Reznet

I'm a Native who works at a Native-owned and operated smoke shop in a city with a Native presence and a lot of smokers. But strangely enough, most of my customers aren't Native. They come in all shapes, but some customers don't come in the pleasant variety. Anyone who's worked retail can tell you, some times you have to bite your lip.

It was when my lip started to get bloody that I decided to start talking back.

I hear phrases that begin with, "You people" more often than I'd care. One afternoon, I made the mistake of answering the phone and on the other end was a belligerent man who started on a tirade about, "You people." He called in to complain about his poor customer service experience, which I apologized for profusely, and that led to more absurd generalizations.

He continued, "You people are as bad as the Mexicans! You always take and take and take and now, you're over-charging me for my cigarettes!" When a moment like that comes upon me, where I'm called to answer for the alleged fiscal improprieties of my race (and quite possibly, another), there's a fine line to walk. On one hand, I'd like to tell him exactly where he can subsidize his over-priced merchandise on his person, but my better angels inspire me to handle it like an adult. I told him he was free to file a complaint with the Better Business Bureau and thanked him for his patronage and hung up.

While the 17 year-old version of myself berates me for not sticking to my radical guns, I remind myself this man obviously knows where I work and has the free time to call me up and yell. It's not too far a jump of sanity from an insult on the phone to a car crashing through the shop during my shift.

Then, there are those who look at their receipts and get outraged about the sales tax. It always starts innocently enough with a simple question, but it inevitable balloons into generalizations they've been fed by folk who assume Natives are just one more leech on the perfect, utopian America. They say things like, "I didn't think [you people] had to pay taxes." And it comes out, just like that, a statement and not a question; kind of like an overdue "gotcha" moment.

That's when the lessons from my old high school tribal government teacher come around in my head to be dusted off and recited right in their ignorant faces. I inform the customer that the Reno-Sparks Indian Colony's agreement with the state of Nevada may include the right by the state to charge tax in Native-owned and/or operated businesses. I explain that each tribes' agreement with various state and local governments vary.

I use myself as an example when they press the issue. I inform the customer that my own tribe has not paid state taxes on goods and services because of the Ft. Laramie Treaty of 1868, which was specific to the Lakota and other nations, and the state government had no jurisdiction on my reservation. Imagine my surprise when, on my last trip home, the price of cigarettes matched the state-wide one-dollar tax. Obviously, I'm not as up on the treaties as they relate to taxes as I think I am.

As a grandstand moment, I also explain not all of us receive $10,000 stipends each month from the government (whether tribal or federal) or our illustrious casinos. And to bring the house down, I continue talking about me by saying the most I see from the federal government is one penny per annum for my trust land, all 500 acres of it. That damned penny has been a thorn in my side since I started paying attention to my Bureau of Indian Affairs statements.  

Most customers will walk away enlightened and bemused by the concept that Natives aren't just one pan-American race, but a collective of individual nations and tribes with their own languages, customs and agreements with the federal government. But a small few will look at their receipt and say something like, "It's still not right."

As I've said to my friends recently, it all makes me want to wear a shirt to work every day with the phrase, "A free market economy doesn't mean you get free sh*t." But we have a dress code at my little shop and I'd hate to blow the minds of the ignorant and slick Rick coupon-clippers.

For now, I keep my mouth shut until pressed, working every day to enlighten the general public about my people through the magic of retail.