Ancestors Protect Me Quotes

Here is a radical idea that I would like you to understand: white silence is violence. It actively protects the system. It says I am okay with the way things are because they do not negatively affect me and because I enjoy the benefits I receive with white privilege.

White supremacy is a system you have been born into. Whether or not you have known it, it is a system that has granted you unearned privileges, protection, and power.

It is also a system that has been designed to keep you asleep and unaware of what having that privilege, protection, and power has meant for people who do not look like you.

I couldn’t explain it if I tried. Why the dominant animal that lived inside me needed her near me, within my protection, like I needed air in my lungs. It was older than time, this savage compulsion. If I’d been a true dragon like my ancestors, and not half human, I would’ve already tucked her beneath me, spread my wings in a show of dominance, and melted them with a breath of fire. But Morgons were more civilized, so I pretended I didn’t want to maim them for looking too appreciatively at Liana, keeping her close to my side.

What do think about abortion?” “I could feel the tension growing in the plane. I dropped my head, acknowledging that we had very different value systems for our lives. Then I thought of a way to respond to his question. “You’re Jewish, right?” I asked. “Yes,” he said defensively. “I told you I was!” “Do you know how Hitler persuaded the German people to destroy more than six million of your Jewish ancestors?” The man looked at me expectantly, so I continued. ”He convinced them that Jews were not human and then exterminated your people like rats.” I could see that I had his attention, so I went on. “Do you understand how Americans enslaved, tortured, and killed millions of Africans? We dehumanized them so our constitution didn’t apply to them, and then we treated them worse than animals.” “How about the Native Americans?” I pressed. “Do you have any idea how we managed to hunt Indians like wild animals, drive them out of their own land, burn their villages, rape their women, and slaughter their children? Do you have any clue how everyday people turned into cruel murderers?” My Jewish friend was silent, and his eyes were filling with tears as I made my point. “We made people believe that the Native Americans were wild savages, not real human beings, and then we brutalized them without any conviction of wrongdoing! Now do you understand how we have persuaded mothers to kill their own babies? We took the word fetus, which is the Latin word for ‘offspring,’ and redefined it to dehumanize the unborn. We told mothers, ‘That is not really a baby you are carrying in your belly; it is a fetus, tissue that suddenly forms into a human being just seconds before it exits the womb.’ In doing so, we were able to assert that, in the issue of abortion, there is only one person’s human rights to consider, and then we convinced mothers that disposing of fetal tissue (terminating the life of their babies) was a woman’s right. Our constitution no longer protects the unborn because they are not real people. They are just lifeless blobs of tissue.” By now, tears were flowing down his cheeks. I looked right into his eyes and said, “Your people, the Native Americans, and the African Americans should be the greatest defenders of the unborn on the planet. After all, you know what it’s like for society to redefine you so that they can destroy your races. But ironically, your races have the highest abortion rates in this country! Somebody is still trying to exterminate your people, and you don’t even realize it. The names have changed, but the plot remains the same!” Finally he couldn’t handle it anymore. He blurted out, “I have never heard anything like this before. I am hanging out with the wrong people. I have been deceived!

Tokenism of BIPOC is a white supremacist act because it still places BIPOC as objects that can be used to further a white person’s or organization’s agenda, and it protects people with white privilege from having to do the work of disrupting white dominance. Tokenism looks flattering on the outside, but the truth of it is that it uses BIPOC as if they are things, not people. Tokenism says that BIPOC are only valuable to people with white privilege to the degree that they can be used for their own agenda (whether consciously or unconsciously).

Lastly, color blindness is a way to avoid not only looking at other people’s races but looking at your own. So often, white people see themselves as “raceless” or “normal,” with everyone else being a race or being other, that they fail to investigate how the idea of color blindness protects them from having to reflect on what it means to be white in a white supremacist society. When you refuse to look at color, you refuse to look at yourself as a person with white privilege.

Under the eye of Fahla, who sees all, I speak so that all may hear. I love Salomen Arrin Opah. Her happiness is my ambition; her well-being is my purpose. All that is mine I place freely at her disposal, including my heart and my life, which I would gladly lay down to protect hers. This I swear in Fahla’s name. I am Andira Shaldone Tal, and I ask this gift of you and Nashta and all your ancestors: Will you do me the honor of accepting me into your family?

Kate, you are not going in there." Her stubborn gaze met his. "You need me in there with you, and we both know it." "Out of the question! You listen to me, young lady," her father blustered. "That evil place took your mother from me. I'll not lose you, as well!" "Papa, you know I have to do this. You can't stop me. This is my decision." "It's madness!" Gerald cried, paling. "What are you trying to prove? It won't bring her back!" "I know that, but at least then I will have some answers. This is the reason you made sure to have me educated like a son, remember? I can do this, Papa. Rohan, I'll be waiting in the boat." "You are staying here," he replied. Anger flashed across her face. "Haven't you two realized yet that you don't run my life? That place killed my mother! Besides, I have a right---the Alchemist is my ancestor, not yours---and also, I'm the only one who has figured out the clues." "Kate, I don't know what sort of deviltry I may face in there. I'm sorry, but this time, considering I have no idea what I'm getting into, I don't want to be responsible for having to protect you." "With all due respect, Your Grace, I'm the one who'll be protecting you on this occasion. You're a warrior, not a scholar, Rohan. I've been studying this book, and I've already decoded the clues. You don't stand a chance without me." "Just give them to me." "No! I'm going with you. Now, if you prefer to survive the fiendish obstacle course that lies beyond that cave, quit wasting time arguing with me, because my mind will not be changed. For that matter, the Prometheans will be here soon. So, let's go!" With that, she pivoted on her heel and marched off toward the small-boat. Once more, she had left him and her father stymied, not sure what to say. "She's very determined," Rohan finally muttered. "Wish I could say she takes after her mother, but I'm afraid she's a bit too much like me." "You think?

The common sayings we heard over and over again while growing up represent hand-me-down beliefs about money, about life, and about relationships—“truths” that our ancestors believed and probably thought would protect us from pain, harm, or disappointment in life.

the prophet Ezekiel. Hear the word of the Lord…” Though you don't deserve what I'm going to do for you, I will lead you home to bring honor to my name and to show foreign nations that I am holy. Then, they will know that I am the Lord God. I have spoken. I will gather you from the foreign nations and bring you home. I will sprinkle you with clean water, and you will be clean and acceptable to me. I will wash away everything that makes you unclean, and I will remove your disgusting idols. I will take away your stubborn heart and give you a new heart and a desire to be faithful. You will have only pure thoughts, because I will put my Spirit in you and make you eager to obey my laws and teachings. You will once again live in the land I gave your ancestors; you will be my people, and I will be your God. I will protect you from anything that makes you unclean. Your fields will overflow with grain, and no one will starve. Your trees will be filled with fruit, and crops will grow in your fields, so that you will never again feel ashamed for not having enough food. You will remember your evil ways and hate yourselves for what you've done… After I have made you clean, I will let you rebuild your ruined towns and let you live in them. Your land will be plowed again, and nobody will be able to see that it was once barren. Instead, they will say that it looks as beautiful as the garden of Eden. They won't see towns lying in ruins, but they will see your strong cities filled with people. Then the nearby nations that survive will know that I am the one who rebuilt the ruined places and replanted the barren fields. I, the Lord, make this promise. I will once again answer your prayers, and I will let your nation grow until you are like a large flock of sheep. The towns that now lie in ruins will be filled with people, just as Jerusalem was once filled with sheep to be offered as sacrifices during a festival. Then you will know that I am the LORD.1

In my life and work, I’ve seen the darkest parts of the human soul. (At least I hope they are the darkest.) That has helped me see more clearly the brightness of the human spirit. Feeling the sting of violence myself has helped me feel more keenly the hand of human kindness. Given the frenzy and the power of the various violence industries, the fact that most Americans live without being violent is a sign of something wonderful in us. In resisting both the darker sides of our species and the darker sides of our heritage, it is everyday Americans, not the icons of big-screen vengeance, who are the real heroes. Abraham Lincoln referred to the “Better angels of our nature,” and they must surely exist, for most of us make it through every day with decency and cooperation. Having spent years preparing for the worst, I have finally arrived at this wisdom: Though the world is a dangerous place, it is also a safe place. You and I have survived some extraordinary risks, particularly given that every day we move in, around, and through powerful machines that could kill us without missing a cylinder: jet airplanes, subways, busses, escalators, elevators, motorcycles, cars—conveyances that carry a few of us to injury but most of us to the destinations we have in mind. We are surrounded by toxic chemicals, and our homes are hooked up to explosive gasses and lethal currents of electricity. Most frightening of all, we live among armed and often angry countrymen. Taken together, these things make every day a high-stakes obstacle course our ancestors would shudder at, but the fact is we are usually delivered through it. Still, rather than be amazed at the wonder of it all, millions of people are actually looking for things to worry about. Near the end of his life, Mark Twain wisely said, “I have had a great many troubles, but most of them never happened.

Ithan said slowly, “Hel is our enemy.” “Is it?” Aidas laughed, ears twitching. “Who wrote the history?” “The Asteri,” Tharion said darkly. Aidas turned approving eyes on him. “You’ve heard the truth in some form, I take it.” “I know that the official history of this world is not necessarily to be believed.” Aidas leapt off the counter, trotting to the coffee table again. “The Asteri fed their lies to your ancestors. Made the scholars and philosophers write down their version of events under penalty of death. Erased Theia from the record. That library your former employer possesses,” he said, turning to Bryce, “is what remains of the truth. Of the world before the Asteri, and the few brave souls who tried to voice that truth afterward. You knew that, Bryce Quinlan, and protected the books for years—yet you have done nothing with that knowledge.” “What the fuck?” Ithan asked Bryce. Aidas only asked, “What was this world before the Asteri?” Tharion said, “Ancient humans and their gods dwelled here. I’ve heard the ruins of their civilizations are deep beneath the sea.” Aidas inclined his head. “And where did the Asteri come from? Where did the Fae or the shifters or the angels come from?” Bryce cut in, “Enough with the questions. Why not just tell us? What does this have to do with my…gifts?” She seemed to choke on the word. “The war approaches its crescendo. And your power isn’t ready.” Bryce flicked the length of her ponytail over her shoulder. “How fucking cliché. Whatever my powers are, I want nothing to do with them. Not if they somehow link me to you—the Asteri will consider that a serious threat. Rightly so.” “People have died so you could have this power. People have been dying in this battle for fifteen thousand years so we could reach this point. Don’t play the reluctant hero now. That is cliché.

It’s mayhem, it’s chaos, and then the hose is unleashed. An icy torrent of water knocks me to the ground and separates me from Seth. Water fills my nose, and I choke on it, coughing hard and desperately trying to shield my eyes from the worst of it so I can see. The spray moves away from me long enough that I can stand on shaky legs. It’s a fight to regain my bearings, my vision still blurred, and stray limbs and bodies tangle across the ground, tripping me with every step. The gate is at my back, and everywhere I look is a mess of water, people, and mud. It’s so loud; even when I blink away the last of the water, I still feel too disoriented, like I’m disconnected from my body. I slip. My shoulder slams into concrete, and I breathe through the pain as I force myself to my feet again. Someone shouts my name, but then there’s a guard in front of me, his helmet visor pulled up so I can see the wicked gleam in his eyes when he pulls out a small black object from his belt. I spot the metal prongs and realize what’s about to happen. Terror lances up my spine, thick and suffocating in my throat. I can’t move. Behind me, Ajei screams. A large hand wrenches me back by the arm, and I lose my balance. Electricity crackles from the end of the taser, missing my drenched side by a centimeter as I crash to the ground hard. “We saw you!” Someone screams. “We have a video! Murderer! You tried to kill him!” Without warning, hands are everywhere, grabbing me and pulling me back to safety. “No, wait!” I shout, struggling to free myself from their grasp. I can’t leave now, not like this. I need to be up at the front, strong in the face of danger, just like our ancestors. I need to make my family proud; need to protect them and the land we were blessed with the way I promised I would. There’s a cry of pain, and I catch a glimpse of Seth yanking my attacker’s arm behind his back until he’s forced to drop the taser, which Seth kicks away. His eyes are ablaze, and he’s utterly ruthless, but despite everything, I can only think of how beautiful he looks. Then, he swings out a leg and takes out another guard who is going after a fleeing Ajei, her phone in her hand from where she had been recording everything. He spies me on the ground amidst the throngs of protestors, something like fear on his face, and roars, “Get him out of here!

Begin by calling in your council of spirit guides. Grandfather, I'm calling on you; I need your guidance now. Grandmother, I'm calling on you; I need your guidance now. Ancestors, I'm calling on you; I need your guidance now. Creator, I'm calling on you; I need your guidance now. 2. State your prayer in simple terms. I am facing [INSERT TROUBLING ISSUE], and I don't know what to do. I bring this issue to you for your guidance. Please bless this prayer with clarity, protection, and favor for the highest and best good for all. 3. Pray for Mother Earth. And please bless our Mother Earth with healing and protection and ease the suffering of all her children. 4. Close with gratitude and remembrance. I am grateful--Mitákuye Oyás'in [(Me-talk-oo-yay Oy-yaw-sin) an indigenous lakota phrase that has a combined meaning of “we are all related” and “all is connected.”]

Love to my ancestors. Thanks to YAHWEH. Thanks to YAHSHUA. Thanks to ELOHIM. The protection ring around me is solid.

They are awakening to the fact that their white privilege has protected them from having to understand what it means to navigate the world as a BIPOC and to the ways in which they have unintentionally caused harm to BIPOC through racial aggressions.

This is the night when the gateway between our world and the spirit world is thinnest. Tonight is a night to call out those who came before. Tonight, I honor my ancestors. Spirits of my fathers and mothers, I call to you tonight and welcome you to join me. You watch over me always, protecting and guiding me, and tonight I thank you. Your blood runs in my veins. Your spirit is in my heart. Your memories are in my soul. With the gift of memory, I remember all of you. You are dead but never forgotten, and you live on within me and those who are yet to come

I invite you not to run away from the pain but to allow it to break your heart open. Superficial attempts to heal racism, like color blindness, tokenism, and white saviorism, protect you from having to feel this pain. Doing the inner work and going into the truth blasts away all the lies and games, giving you a real opportunity to create change. There is no safety in this work. There is no clean, comfortable, or convenient way to dismantle a violent system of oppression. You must roll up your sleeves and get down into the ugly, fertile dirt.

In fact, racial discomfort is inherent to an authentic examination of white supremacy. By avoiding this discomfort, the racist status quo is protected.

White apathy arises as a self-preservation response to protect yourself from having to face your complicity in the oppression that is white supremacy. But like white silence, white apathy is not neutral.

When conversations of racism arise, you jump into defense mode, making you unable to really hear and understand the pain and challenges of BIPOC. The focus becomes to defend the self (and really, one’s white privilege and white supremacy as a whole) rather than opening yourself up to an experience of becoming consciously aware of what your privilege has protected you from.

It actively protects the system. It says I am okay with the way things are because they do not negatively affect me and because I enjoy the benefits I receive with white privilege.

White privilege is a bubble that protects you, rewards you with unearned advantages, gives you the belief that you are entitled to be in all spaces all the time, shields you from showing up for BIPOC, and grants you a feeling of authority and power.

Red Sister "We’re Giljohn’s children. The thought rolled across the smoothness of her mind as the Ancestor’s song grew louder. Sisters of the cage." Hessa had not feared dying. But Nona feared living without her. “The truth is a weapon and lies are a necessary shield.” "All the world and more has rushed eternity’s length to reach this beat of your heart, screaming down the years. And if you let it, the universe, without drawing breath, will press itself through this fractured second and race to the next, on into a new eternity. Everything that is, the echoes of everything that ever was, the roots of all that will ever be, must pass through this moment that you own. Your only task is to give it pause—to make it notice." "His older two were long grown, and little Sali would always be five." "It’s harder to forgive someone else your own sins than those uniquely theirs." “Those that burn short burn bright. The shortest lives can cast the longest shadows.” "The new picture didn’t erase the old—the bump was still a hole, but now it was a bump as well; the old lady was still a young one, but now she was old too. Clera was still her friend, and now an enemy also." “People always want to know things . . . until they hear them, and then it’s too late. Knowledge is a rug of a certain size, and the world is larger. It’s not what remains uncovered at the edges that should worry you, rather what is swept beneath.” Kettle sat with her head back against the bark, her face white as death, a tear running from the corner of her eye. “I can always reach her. A thousand miles wouldn’t matter.” She raised an arm, unsteady, and beneath it a shadow blacker than the night stretched out, reaching for infinity, as if the sun had fallen behind her. “It’s done. She knows I need her. She knows the direction.” “You swear it?” “I swear it.” “By the Ancestor?” “By the Ancestor.” The faintest echo of that grin. “And by the Hope, and the Missing Gods who echo in the tunnels, and by the gods too small for names who dance in buttercups and fall with the rain. Now go. For the love of all that’s holy, go. You wear me out, Nona. And I’ve got to concentrate on being alive. It would break her heart to get here and find me dead.” She drew a shallow breath. “They’re both in that direction. If you take it until you find some sort of trail there’s a good chance you’ll find Ara and the others on it. Try to travel with Ara and Zole. Tarkax may be able to protect you if the Noi-Guin track you from here.” Another shallow breath, snatched in over her pain. “Go! Now!” Nona came forward. She set her canteen in Kettle’s lap and kissed her icy forehead. Then she ran.

Will my friends protect me from my ancestors?

White supremacy is a system you have been born into. Whether or not you have known it, it is a system that has granted you unearned privileges, protection, and power. It is also a system that has been designed to keep you asleep and unaware of what having that privilege, protection, and power has meant for people who do not look like you.

But white silence is anything but neutral. Rather, it is a method of self-protection and therefore also the protection of the dynamics of white supremacy. It protects you, the person with white privilege, from having to deal with the harm of white supremacy. And it protects white supremacy from being challenged, thereby keeping it firmly in place.

At the beginning of 2018, during a briefing meeting with lawmakers in the Oval Office discussing the protection of immigrants from Haiti, El Salvador, and African countries, U.S. president Donald Trump asked, “Why do we want all these people from shithole countries coming here?” 37 The question shocked people around the world, but in truth, his comment was reflective of what is often thought but not overtly said about BIPOC.