Origins

Origins of Othering

It was just another day on the plains, hunting and gathering. Actually, there was a lot more gathering in those days, but the 'hunters' got all the glory. It was so much more flashy to come back to the place where we slept and ate with a dead animal than an armload of the things that grew in the ground or in the trees. Truth be told, the hunters usually found things that were almost dead, or, more frequently, already dead. Oh, I know, you'd think that would be considered gathering, but no... they called it hunting. Just because it was once something that walked or crawled, they laid claim to it, even if one of those who gather found it first. They would just poke a sharp stick into a few times to make sure it wouldn't bite them, then yell and whoop and celebrate like they had just chased it down and killed it themselves. Wankers.

Where was I... oh yes. Another day, just like the one before this, and the one before that. The ones who gather were walking in the place where the round things grow on vines on the ground, looking to gather a few of them, when the one who leads us walked up and addressed them.

"You who are gathering. Come to the place where The One Who Leads is." he announced.

They all walked to the place where The One Who Leads was standing. I don't understand how he can lead when he's standing and not walking, but that is a question for The One Who Thinks, not the ones who gather.

"It appears" began The One Who Leads "that not everyone who gathers is gathering the same. Some of you gather the round things that grow on the ground on vines better than others. Why is that?"

I looked at the others who gather. They looked around too.

"Could you explain what that means?" asked The One Who Is Always First To Ask Questions.

"Some of you gather a round thing that grows on vines on the ground for each finger and each toe. This is good. Others gather a round thing that grows on vines on the ground for each finger that is the hand you hold your sharp stick with. This is not good."

"I always gather one for each finger and each toe on all of my hands and feet" said The One Who Always Tells Everyone How Good He Is.

After a few more times explaining the situation to the group, The One Who Leads asked "Why is this?"

A bit of grumbling erupted from the ones farthest away from the one who leads. Some of the group talked softly in the sounds we made before we had words. Others looked at the ground or picked their teeth. Finally, one of the group stepped toward the one who leads.

"We would be better at gathering" he stated, slowly and deliberately "but the ones with hair the colour of the sand aren't doing their share. They spend too much time talking to each other with the words we use and not enough time gathering."

"Thank you, One Who Tells On Others" said The One Who Leads. "What should we do about this?"

"That sounds like a question for The One Who Leads!" said someone from the group far from the one who leads, who just happened to have hair the colour of the sand.

That was dangerous talk! It was almost like a challenge to The One Who Leads. Fortunately for the one who spoke, The One Who Leads didn't hear them. This is because, in the time before he became The One Who Leads, he was The One Who Tried To Sleep Too Close To The Fire And Burned The Place He Hears From. I think he wanted to become The One Who Leads just to lose that name.

"Ones who gather. You can do better. You are valuable to The One Who Leads, and the ones who sit by the fire and talk. The things you gather are important to the tribe, especially because they make great side dishes for the things that those who hunt bring back. Carry on."

Once The One Who Leads walked back to the place where we have our fire for talking around, the rest of us gathered in the shape of the thing that birds grow their babies in. We talked about the gathering issue. The ones with hair the colour of sand were unhappy with the way they were treated. They felt they were doing all they could. The One Who Does Little And Gets Away With It had an idea. He stepped toward the middle of the group and spoke.

"Did you see the way The One Who Leads responded to The One Who Tells On Others? He was no longer angry at all of us, only the ones with hair the colour of sand! That reminds me... an apology is due before I continue."

"Sorry ones who have hair the colour of sand' said the one who tells on others. "I'm sure I remember a day that you only gathered a round thing that grows on vines on the ground for each finger on one hand, but I shouldn't have said that."

Grunts from the ones with hair the colour of sand.

"Go on! Tell us what you were going to say!" said one of the other ones who gatherer.

"If we can blame the lack of gathering on someone else, we can get away with doing less." he continued. "We just need to figure out who to point the finger at."

"What about the people with hair the colour of sand?" asked the one who is first to ask questions.

"No" he went on "we've already apologized for saying things about them. We need someone else."

"What about the ones with hair on their bodies? They also eat the round things that grow on vines on the ground."

"That just might work!" said The One Who Never Has An Idea Of His Own.

"Then it's settled. Any time something goes wrong, we can blame the ones who have hair on their bodies. It doesn't matter if it's true, because they are different. The one who leads doesn't like them anyway. We can easily get away with it."

The ones who gather then set off to rest in the shade of the plant that grows taller than a gatherer can reach, and slacked off until the round thing in the sky that makes us hot was gone.