Cowboys and Indians

When I was a boy I played Cowboys and Indians. First I was a cowboy, then I was an Indian, then a cowboy who was an Indian, or an Indian who was a cowboy, either way, it didn’t matter, Cowboys were awesome, Indians were awesome, so a cowboy who was also an Indian, or an Indian also a cowboy… Double awesome. I had my cap gun, and my plastic hickory-bow. When out of caps I shot suction-cup arrows, when out arrows I got new roll of caps. And I was a hero. Many years later two people with serious faces showed up on my front door. They said I could not be a cowboy, because cowboy’s had ‘privilege.’ They said I could not be an Indian, because that was ‘appropriation.’ I said that many cowboys were ex-slaves, or Mexican immigrants, they didn’t care. I said that the Indians appropriated guns, horses, and writing, they didn’t care. So I pointed to my gun case, to my hanging compound bow, they got the hint, and fled, calling me names that ended in ‘-ist’ or ‘-phobe,’ but I didn’t care. I just went out back to watch my son play, with his cap gun and plastic bow. First he was a cowboy, then he was an Indian, then a cowboy who was an Indian, or an Indian who was a cowboy, either way, it didn’t matter, because he was a hero, and he was double awesome.