Editorial Note
“My Macaroni Salad” is the most politically daring piece in this collection, necessary for its challenging exploration of community judgment. While most submissions celebrate land-based food knowledge and belonging, this poem questions the authenticity standards imposed by the community itself, mirroring colonial expectations. Rather than providing answers, it inhabits these questions, with the macaroni salad symbolizing choices deemed “not Indigenous enough.” The second section’s breathless prose captures the struggle of seeking recognition that often eludes. This piece is vital as it complicates the theme of belonging, reminding us that reclaiming identity can be hindered by the very communities we wish to connect with.
My macaroni salad
is not good enough for the rez.
They say I’m colonized
because I prefer vegetables instead –
cubed red and yellow peppers,
peppercorn ranch dressing,
ham instead of klik.
My macaroni salad
is not good enough for the rez.
It is implied that I am colonized
because I used Italian seasoning instead.
Can’t just have mayo –
must have spice.
Because my macaroni salad
is just not good enough for the rez.
I can cook, I can bake, I can sew, I can create masterpieces — but neither ever seems good enough
for the rez. I made a giant thunderbird that made all heads tum at the annual parade, and I did not even place. I guess I don’t understand the rules laid before me, rules that, no matter how hard I try to decipher, I just cannot translate into a first-place win. Maybe I’m making it too complicated. The ones who do win spend half the time on their pieces. I just can’t seem to make it -just a polite second or third. I just cannot win.


