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Published on May 18, 2012
Dearest Campaign Manager
Though the weather has been temperate this Massachusetts spring, my heart is a tempest.
I cannot rest easy when I think upon the impertinence of those who would disparage my proud Cherokee lineage.
What more testimony do they require? Native American has been a part of my story since the day of my birth. It has been with me in brilliant days and darkest nights. It has been my badge in professional directories lo these 20 years, in the fervent hope that it would bring me to the Ivy League luncheons I so ardently desired.
As you well know, my Papaw had high cheekbones like all of the Indians do.
I remember with tenderness the days spent pondering recipes with my cousin for "Pow Wow Chow." Enclosed please find a copy of this volume, vouchsafed for you as shelter against the storm of censure we must endure on this, our own unhappy trail.
I would appeal to Divine Providence, but I have not yet focus-grouped that phrase, and fear it would fall heavy on the ears of the urbane, white, liberal vote which is my bastion and my daily comfort.
With fondest hopes for the future blueness of our state, I am ever your candidate,