philosophy supernatural nude

I read this story during a coffee break from some preparatory work for a class tomorrow. The course is on Truth and Reconciliation (http://www.trc.ca/websites/trcinstitution/index.php?p=26), but it's also more broadly on decolonization in a settler nation that denies its colonial past, on methodologies and epistemologies, on treaties and ethics and responsibilities, on what it means to live here, in this territory, right now. And I've been having some major concerns about various people's 'Native American Cecil' headcanons that are floating around on tumblr, in the sense that I think that a 'Native American Cecil' that isn't at least slightly situated within histories of North American colonization and the current realities of Indigenous lives in North America is extremely problematic and amounts to turning a potential moment of recognition and respect into the Apache Tracker. Your Cecil is wonderful and this fic speaks so subtly and wisely to these things I've been thinking about a lot but am not yet ready to address. So, however crookedly and awkwardly, I just wanted to say thanks.