Wednesday, June 15, 2011

June 15, 1924

Life has been SO busy. Barely time to sleep much less time to share - but coming back to this site has been one of those "ahhhh" moments. I've missed you, my good online friends!

This is irony personified...just wanted to share a moment in history today:

Native American Citizenship


1924 Indian Citizenship Act

Until the Indian Citizenship Act of 1924, Indians occupied an unusual status under federal law. Some had acquired citizenship by marrying white men. Others received citizenship through military service, by receipt of allotments, or through special treaties or special statutes. But many were still not citizens, and they were barred from the ordinary processes of naturalization open to foreigners. Congress took what some saw as the final step on June 2, 1924 and granted citizenship to all Native Americans born in the United States.



President Calvin Coolidge with four Osage Indians after Coolidge signed the bill granting Indians full citizenship. Source — LOC, LC-USZ62-111409 DLC.

The granting of citizenship was not a response to some universal petition by American Indian groups. Rather, it was a move by the federal government to absorb Indians into the mainstream of American life. No doubt Indian participation in World War I accelerated the granting of citizenship to all Indians, but it seems more likely to have been the logical extension and culmination of the assimilation policy. After all, Native Americans had demonstrated their ability to assimilate into the general military society. There were no segregated Indian units as there were for African Americans. Some members of the white society declared that the Indians had successfully passed the assimilation test during wartime, and thus they deserved the rewards of citizenship.

Dr. Joseph K. Dixon, an active proponent of assimilating the "vanishing race" into white society, wrote:

"The Indian, though a man without a country, the Indian who has suffered a thousand wrongs considered the white man's burden and from mountains, plains and divides, the Indian threw himself into the struggle to help throttle the unthinkable tyranny of the Hun. The Indian helped to free Belgium, helped to free all the small nations, helped to give victory to the Stars and Stripes. The Indian went to France to help avenge the ravages of autocracy. Now, shall we not redeem ourselves by redeeming all the tribes?"

So, the Indian Citizenship Act of 1924 proclaimed:

"BE IT ENACTED by the Senate and house of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, That all non citizen Indians born within the territorial limits of the United States be, and they are hereby, declared to be citizens of the United States: Provided That the granting of such citizenship shall not in any manner impair or otherwise affect the right of any Indian to tribal or other property. (Approved June 2, 1924)"



Not all Native Americans viewed citizenship as something wonderful. Their experiences in dealing with Washington and the states did not give them much confidence in the government or desire to participate in it. Some tribes feared they would have to give up their own sovereignty and the federal government would deny its treaty obligations. In the words of one Native American:

"United States citizenship was just another way of absorbing us and destroying our customs and our government. How could these Europeans come over and tell us we were citizens in our country? We had our own citizenship. By its [the Citizenship Act of 1924] provisions all Indians were automatically made United States citizens whether they wanted to be so or not. This was a violation of our sovereignty. Our citizenship was in our nations."

On the other hand, there were Native Americans who saw voting as a right that had been denied to them too long. Maine was one of the last states to overturn state legal barriers to Indian voting. That rankled Henry Mitchell, an Indian canoe maker:

"The Indians aren't allowed to have a voice in state affairs because they aren't voters. All they [the politicians] have to do out there is to look out for the interests of the Indians. Just why the Indians shouldn't vote is something I can't understand. One of the Indians went over to Old Town once to see some official in the city hall about voting. I don't know just what position that official had over there, but he said to the Indian, 'We don't want you people over here. You have your own elections over on the island, and if you want to vote, go over there.'"

Did the 1924 Act really mean the end of the journey in the Native American's march to equality or was it merely a rest stop? By the time the 1924 Citizenship Act was passed, two-thirds of all Indians had already gained citizenship. And while all Native Americans were now citizens, not all states were prepared to allow them to vote. Western states, in particular, engaged in all sorts of legal ruses to deny Indians the ballot. It was not until almost the middle of the 20th century that the last three states, Maine, Arizona and New Mexico, finally granted the right to vote to Indians in their states. And the policies of the federal government towards American Indians continued to change and evolve.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

ohhhhhh I don't want to WOOORRRKK TODAY!!!!!!!

You can't see them, but up in those hills are many of our traditional foods, for women such as I to go and gather...Piyaxi, Luuksh, Xoush to name only three...it's such a beautiful day outside and my kupn is sitting right by the door along with my rootbag!
OR I could just go upriver and explore...that's another favorite on such a day as this....but there it is...

Deadlines await:-)

HAPPY WEDNESDAY ALL!!!!!

Monday, May 9, 2011

Honor Song...

On Saturday my brother, #1 son and I loaded up in our van and off we went to a small pow wow in a neighboring town. We'd been told they would do an honor song for our "dad" (actual foster dad to my brother, and quasi-adopted dad to me, we both called him "Pa" and loved him dearly) who had passed away last year. Off we went.

The drive over was interesting enough, the trees seem to greet us as we went by, "hey - good to see you guys again, drive safely!" and we saw a lot of beautiful sights on the way over...small tendrils of mossy growth wistfully climbing aged rock walls; tree nurseries full of baby fir trees laughing, playing and falling over each other as fat baby beings will do...it was a nice drive.

We got to the Pow Wow and actually none of us were really "feeling" it but as we walked in I could see my son getting that "ohhhhh yeah, I missed this" look on his face. We visited and laughed with people around us in line for the nice dinner hosted by the Pow wow group then it was time for grand entry.

We watched grand entry, snapped a few shots of different people we love or look up to then it was time. We admired the hard work and artistry that went into many of our friends and relatives outfits and we especially took in the elder women as they danced in with all their dignity and experience in their traditional dresses. Our sister Jacky called us over and we trotted off obediently and got in line with the "family."

The emcee started talking about the honoring...how do you "honor" these two people who had left us? Atway Jay, a leader and historian, one who carried with him traditions and knowledge unfathomable in depth, Atway Jeri, the richly magnificent mom of a beautiful family and the core of our gatherings, the one who laughed with us when we were happy, and gently patted us when we were sad, who would say sharp things yet with a smile and gentle voice.

I had only met them in the 90's when working at an urban arm of tribal government. I had been hired as the receptionist and Atway Jay had greeted me with a handshake and smile, asking who my family was, then telling me "oh I know all about you." Then came Jeri who finding out my background, took me under her wing without question. From that day forward they would look in on me everytime they were around and they would expect me to be a part of their lives.

There's no way to express the importance of this connection because as the story goes, I was raised pretty much without anyone who would do this. Later, I went home to my own family, my mother, brothers and the whole huge extended core of my being. Long story short, coming home was as rough as being away were it not for the patient guidance of a few of my brothers and cousins.

In retrospect I understand my biological mother had a rough life. So rough, it's truly astounding that she survived. The lesson learned here is that each individual deals with adverse situations differently.

Upon coming home to stay within one year I'd lost my cousin, auntie and other parts of my being. I planned on diving into this amazing family and started with my "dad" who then passed away with cancer...I turned to my mom who had chosen a life path of brusque harshness with which to shield her soul from the paralyzing blows life had dealt her. She stood tall up to the end with her snapping eyes and quick retort, but the strength in her made me speechless with awe; For some reason she never "took" to me. For many reasons actually. I am the spitting image of my father whom I'm told was a laugh a minute and as kind as you could ask for when he was sober...and the utter and absolute opposite when he was drunk - which was more often than not. In many ways, I represented what she once was and no longer could be...although to myself I often feel old and used up, to her I must have been the picture of vitality taking the world by the tail and spinning it at whim...for whatever reasons, after her passing, I found that she had not even acknowledged me in her will as her offspring...something I continue growing used to without pangs of that young child standing in the cold...

Atway Jay and Jeri took the sting of my mother's treatment of me away. Where she degraded me and scoffed at my hopes and dreams, they sheltered me and advised me. Where she scratched at my psyche and poured salt into exposed nerve, they loved me and poured healing rosewater songs into my wounded soul. The world was a shaky place and they made it safe.

All of these things zipped through my mind as I danced around the pow wow floor with this amazing extended family. I wondered how I could ever express these things to those to whom it matters. I realized I just can't. I couldn't get the words out because as I recalled Jeri's gentle voice urging me forward I started to cry...when I remembered Jay's words after I ran for a particular office and lost, he took me aside and told me "don't you be ashamed, you did a good job, a damn good job, you be PROUD of yourself." He always expected our best...it would never have occurred to him that what we attempted we might not achieve. When we tried to take a step back he would just laugh at us and push us forward...if he didn't laugh we would actually JUMP forward:-)

No, there aren't enough words, not enough songs to honor these two who are now gone, but often I see them; I see Atway Jay's smile in his grandson, and Jeri's affectionate touch in her daughter...I see his determination and grit in his grand daughter's eyes, and his quick smile in my own son's dance. I often hear her voice, our Mugg, when I question "should I do this or not?" and she would just look at me and say "GET OUT THERE" or "YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO" and then just smile and shake her head...I miss her delightful little gifts she would bring me from time to time, a little purple picture frame, a purple flowered bag, a richly colored purple barrette.
When I look at my brother as he moves forward to what is expected of him I remember how Jay always used to tell him "it's YOUR turn now"

Honor...the legacy these two left is that there are many younger people with a vision...two of us are working in our way towards this vision. Everything they stood for was about honor...and as long as there are songs to sing, causes to fight for, issues to resolve, the legacy of these two will stand.

Friday, April 22, 2011

relying on the kindness of strangers

It's so easy to get jaded in this world. A rude bus driver, that one woman who incessantly yells at her children in the most nasal, whiny yet raspy voice you've ever heard; the close "friend" who steals your cashed paycheck right off your desk while you're finishing a last minute chore. These are examples of why we finally throw our hands in the air and say "that's it, I'll not trust another living soul as long as I live."

For awhile this works out well. We go along in our lives as though in our human hamster wheels...go to work, go home, go to the store, go to the bar...go home, go to work, on and on...we don't touch anyone and we certainly try our hardest not to let anyone touch US!

Every now and then someone comes along to shift our perspective back and we can once again breathe a sigh of warm relief and realize that bitterness makes one brittle; unforgiveness makes one tired and ill.

I was running late yesterday on my flight home from a week-long conference. Tired, broke (really REALLY broke) and physically sore I waited in line behind a long line of people from another country who try as they might could not fit the required weight limit in their stainless steel luggage and who in broken english were trying their hardest to dissuade the counter worker from keeping the rules. Time ticked by and although I'd arrived at the airport in ample time, my little margin was wearing thin. I finally got to the counter, got my boarding pass, checked my luggage and was told HURRY boarding starts in 25 minutes.

Off I hurried to get to what I thought I had heard was gate D6. My legs were hurting and I know I probably looked pretty pitiful when the dulcet tones of a beautiful airline goddess said to me "Miss, please come this way" and she ushered me through a delightful gate from the long line of those awaiting security checks to being the second in line. Bless her heart. I was relieved and my carry on and I sailed through.

I got to gate D6 and realized I had made a mistake, it was actually gate D26 I was supposed to be at so I hurried to my correct gate, got on the plane and for the rest of my trip everything was amazing.

Thank you kind lady in Las Vegas, you have restored the balance of my reality!!!!!!!

Monday, April 4, 2011

this moms view...

i hear horrific news from afar
and on the winds i hear cries of mothers
searching for children long lost in
the tumult

my spirit weeps when a child i see
picking through
piles of rubble in tears
once home

far away or right next door
mothers arise to
battle the horrors
of night

creatures of prey
rustle through walls
each day more terror
is wrought

and one day soon
the songs will arise
sung from mothers of forever
woven of the sun
and harmonized
by light

yes one day soon
when songs arise
sung by mothers
notes of justice
on wings of laughter
healing

Not that I believe moms are always right because if you walk down any aisle in any supermarket it's clear they're not, but I'm reminded of mothers such as the mom of Chief Joseph, or Yellow Wolf, any of the courageous men who fought for our tribes' sovereignty and I'm reminded even of battles long before us...there is always of a mom who taught a warrior the right way...if you listen closely you can hear them singing in the background when any world trauma happens...or any world joy...or even just if its a clear sunny day...