I’m almost done with the final paper and honestly, I’m tired. Having to recall memories and learning more about my history is exhausting for me, both mentally and emotionally. Yet it still leaves me with a sense of knowing, the feeling that I’m learning and that’s enough to make up for it. Even if it’s just the smallest piece of knowledge, no matter how hard and emotionally taxing it is, means a lot to me. Some of my classmates might understand the feeling, but I feel that the white students will find it hard to understand since their whole history can be found just by looking themselves up on Ancestry.com and not have it be erased by colonization.