“In this world nothing is certain but death and taxes.”

We all know this familiar quotation from Benjamin Franklin, but there’s an underlying message that few people have recognized. The trick in deciphering this message is that you can’t be an American Citizen. No matter how hard you try, if you were born on U.S. soil you’ll probably never figure it out.

I am not an American citizen. I am not a Canadian citizen. I’m a Native Indian of the Iroquois tribe; specifically from the Mohawk Nation. When my ancestors roamed this land, there was no border between Canada and the United States, which is why I consider myself a North American Citizen.

I was raised on the Six Nations Indian Reservation. I went to school there. For the first six years of my education I was even taught to speak the Mohawk language. I consider the Six Nations Indian Reservation a separate nation surrounded by Canada. Being a separate nation means that we can make up our own laws, like having our own police force or allowing casinos to be built, if we so desire.

From a legal standpoint, I carry a Canadian passport and U.S. Green Card. Being a Native Indian, I have the ability to travel and trade freely between Canada and the United States, which is guaranteed by the Jay Treaty that was ratified in 1795.

I came to the U.S. in 1992 and initially settled outside Chicago, Illinois. At that time I was looking for a job, but I didn’t have a Social Security card. I remember going to the Social Security office and showing the nice woman my Native Status card and asking for a Social Security number. She looked a little shocked and merely replied that there was no way I was going to get a number and no way I could legally work in the U.S. I asked to see a supervisor who took a photocopy of my Native Status card and within 10 minutes I was all set. I could now start worrying about identify-theft with the rest of you Yahoos.

Within 12 months of living in the U.S., there were two things that totally surprised, shocked, amazed and frightened me: death and taxes.

Death: When I first came here, driving around was an adventure. I couldn’t believe I was actually seeing giant billboards advertising hospitals, clinics, doctors and medical hotlines like 1-800-call-a-nurse-before-the-bills-really-start-racking-up. The radio spots were even better with their catchy jingles and slogans. “If you’re near death…come to our Hospital! (But only if you have insurance, otherwise we don’t want to see your sorry ass!)”

I was in the U.S. about six months before I had to see a doctor. I remember walking into the Clinic, up to the front desk ready to explain my seemingly never ending cold to some caring, sympathetic person who would write me a prescription.

Surprise, surprise!

No one was interested in what was wrong with me…they didn’t even want to know my name. The first question I was asked was: “How do you intend to pay for this?”

I was shocked. I was speechless. That experience literally took my breath away. No one had ever treated me like that before. Today, more than 15 years later, it frightens me that nothing has really changed and no one seems to care. It’s unfortunate, but I guess everyone has just gotten used to being treated this way.

There should be a difference between health care and a moneymaking business. A big difference. A noticeable difference. But there isn’t. We’re supposed to be the best country in the world, where we can do anything we set our minds to, but I guess it’s not that important to us yet.

Taxes: There’s a black cloud that follows everyone around in this country. This cloud has ultimate power over your life and knows everything about you. If you want to speak openly about this cloud, you have to whisper or else they might hear you. It sounds like the Gestapo police from an old Nazi movie, but it’s really disguised as the IRS.

I don’t get it. In a country that claims to be “the land of the free”…why is everyone so God-awful afraid of the IRS?

Everyone has a story about how “they” came in the middle of the night without just cause, and took some poor bastard to prison for 38 years while torturing the wife and kids. If these stories are to be believed, “they” can do anything they want. “They” don’t answer to anyone.

What I don’t understand and completely fail to comprehend is why are the innocent people afraid? There are people out there literally lying awake at night, shuddering in bed waiting for the dreaded call telling them they’re going to be audited. If you’ve never cheated on your taxes, what the hell are you afraid of? Is there even a shred of truth in these stories? What happened to the idea that the government works for the people? Is all of that bullshit? Do we simply tell this to other countries hoping they’ll be envious of us?

I tell everyone that if you’re going to live with this fear, you may as well cheat on your taxes. At least then you’d be getting something out of it.

Death and taxes…the Ben Franklin riddle. I guess you have to be from another country to get it.

Now…I know that all you insane and unreasonable people out there are going to tell me to leave the country if I don’t like it. Which is why I went to great lengths to explain my lineage. I’m a North American Citizen. I’m from a long line of people who were here first. This is where I’m “from”…I have nowhere to go back “to”.

I get to complain all I want.