Thanksgiving has become a time for families and friends to connect, share in abundance, and be grateful. We in Windborne want to celebrate gratitude and community, but we also cannot ignore the tragic roots of this holiday and the challenging history of this nation and tradition. This piece, Parcel of Rogues, was originally a poem by Robert Burns about the annexation of Scotland by the UK, and we re-wrote the words to tell about the parcel of rogues in our nation.
We invite you to read this Rethinking Thanksgiving Toolkit offered by the Indigenous Solidarity Network and join us in the spreading of awareness along with your giving of thanks.
This video of Parcel of Rogues is an excerpt from our set at the online Old Songs Festival this past summer, filmed in Concord MA, the traditional lands of the Pawtucket, Massachusett, and Nipmuc peoples. If you want to find out more about the lands you currently stand on, native-land.ca is a great place to start.
PARCEL OF ROGUES
Original text by Robert Burns (1791)
Rewritten by Windborne (2020)
From California to Massachusetts Bay
From sea across to shining sea
In redwood forest and waves of grain
Lies the beauteous land of our country.
Yet before we came these lands were bound
To peoples in relation
To a land now seized as stolen ground
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation
When English pilgrims settled here
They met with native peoples.
They bargained to build their homesteads near
And professed they would be peaceful.
Then to start a war for land they claimed–
A convenient accusation–
That poor John Sassamon was slain
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation
Oh woe betide the Cherokee,
The Seminole, and the Choctaw;
They’ve cast out now the Muscogee,
They’ve banished as well the Chickasaw.
Through spurious claims their land was seized
They were driven in forced migration–
A trail of thousands to starve or freeze
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation
These trials endured and hardships borne
Tribes started to recover,
So laws were writ and children torn
From the arms of their own mothers.
To fracture language, kin, and clan
In schools of assimilation–
We will, “Kill the Indian and save the man”
Said the parcel of rogues in our nation
Farewell then to their sacred ground
Farewell their ancient glory
For highways we’ve dug up their burial mound
But buried their culture and story.
Now we must write the next verse of the song,
One of harm or reparation–
And will we choose to right the wrongs
Of the Parcel of Rogues in our Nation?
