Whirling Logs

I had made it up to the regroup spot. Even though there was no group to regroup, it still seemed like a good place for a little break, since it is basically at the top of the loop with just the turn around and descent. After kicking off again, I shifted into the big ring, only nothing shifted, there were none of the usual shifting sounds. Hmm, that's odd, I said while looking down past the top tube and noticing that I was already in the big ring. Damn. No wonder, I continued.

"Deceptive, huh? You thought you were riding poorly, while the whole time you were actually riding well. You still owe me a quail, you know."

Ah?! Dang, Coyote! Do you have to do that all the time. Can't you just sit out in the open, middle of the trail? I'd stop.

"Ha, you're really going to try that line. There is nothing you like more than chasing me down the trail. I'm not one to be deceived by your promises."

 "Speaking of deception, remember the whirling logs?"

Hidden behind my sunglasses, my eyes took on that far-away stare as I slipped into the past:

While working at the Museum I once got a call (part of my job description was helping people with research) from someone who wanted to get a tattoo. The caller was a teenage girl and she was attempting to justify her choice of image so that her mother, who adamantly refused to give permission for this particular tattoo, would relent. She wanted to ink her arm, or leg, or maybe her neck for all I knew, with the Navajo whirling logs symbol. "It's a benign symbol, mom. It's a protection symbol for good luck, right?" She thought she could corner me, by getting me to affirm her strict definition. 

"Is this true?" the mother asked.

Yes, the Navajo have a symbol commonly called the whirling logs. It was often used in weavings and silver work in the early 1900s. 

"I don't care, you're still not getting that tattoo."

"Mooooommmm!"

Are you of Navajo descent? I asked, before they could get deeper into their disagreement.

"What does that have to do with anything? Are you saying I couldn't use that symbol because it's Navajo and I'm not?"

Not exactly, I replied. I have never been one to believe in the "evils" of cultural appropriation. On the contrary, cultures have shared their beliefs, and symbols since the beginning of time. It is how new ideas spread from place to place, group to group, culture to culture. That spread leads to greater understanding, and there ain't nothing wrong with that. The problem is, you see, when someone sees that symbol, especially on your fair skinned arm, even on the off chance that they are familiar with the whirling logs, that is not what they are going to see. They are going to see one thing, a symbol of hate. They are going to see a swastika. They are not going to walk over to you and ask about the interesting tattoo, giving you a chance to explain what it is (and what it isn't). No,  and further, they are not going to see you as one of those "very fine people." And for good reason. You know, Navajo use of that symbol pretty much died out in the 1930s, and for good reason. People already know what that symbol stands for, and they won't be deceived into seeing something else. Sorry, but your mom is right on this.

I never did find out if she got that tattoo, I told Coyote.

"Doesn't really matter," he consoled, "you put the idea in her head - just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. Ideas take root, and can grow into profound things. You never know."