144 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/17

144 Image-Content of the Day 2018/07/17 of-by https://blog.patrickwey.com/category/image-content-of-the-day
I am there, P4W, Prison for Women, Kingston On. In the early 90’s there was only one federal prison in Canada which meant any women serving a federal crime had to serve her time in Kingston Ontario. This caused great grieve for many women whom came from poor families across the nation and because of economics, never had a visit for years, if ever. That is not to mention the severity for crimes committed by the poor from undesirable backgrounds with racist treatments for people of colour, blacks, browns, reds and women were mistreated the worst. The women of the land, native, anishinabi, native american women were at the end of the end. There are many unreasonable reasons why the native has been persecuted so insanely and especially the women. Far too complicated to explain here but one thing that can be noted is that people all suffer for different reasons and the truth of the nature is that we all are so incredibly similar regardless of race colour sex and age.
This shot was taken by one of the inmates with my camera. I was becoming a common figure as i was returning so often, as an elders helper (Vern Harper), that some were getting to know me and trust me beyond the shield of white and male. I was simply myself, it always has seemed insane to stumble first thru a veil of colour, as if that has any real significance before relating to another human being. Yes i know, it is much more complicated, but one must attempt to see clear thru skin.
Many american natives, possibly even more so then american blacks are very leery of the white man and easily understood but i don’t bother with that realm unless i am confronted with a situation that i need to address. Otherwise, i just live life and do the best i can to respect, love and care for all people and all things.
There is so much more that could be and should be stated here about what sits behind in this photo, the earth altar, the sweat prayer lodge, the prison, the world and the mystery everywhere. Besides all the torture existing surrounding there was a great sense of humour at times in the air between the minds of the sisterhood of mostly native but not all. Anyone with a true heart could find a way into the way of the red road, sometimes it would simply find you….if you were listening.

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