There isn’t even a discussion. There aren’t any words. You just start swinging—the building is a fence, your cousins are a fence. The two of you are surrounded. There’s no escape for either of you.
The thing about Paradise is this—yours can’t be mine, and mine can’t be yours. Paradise exists in the imagination, and imagination is our only privacy.
Sherman Alexie always loved to read, but it never occurred to him that he—or any other Native American, for that matter—could become a writer. That all changed when he read…
With the exception of sporadic documentaries, books and a small but dedicated scholarly following, Mardi Gras Indians have remained comparatively unknown to much of the world outside New Orleans.