Indigenous Leadership Now

It is unfortunate that, here in the United States, Indigenous Peoples' Day is viewed by many as some sort of subversive, unofficial alternative to Columbus Day. What should be a celebration, and an opportunity to ignite a progressive movement, is instead yet another source of divisiveness. I would argue that if we want to have a future with minimal suffering, or perhaps even survive at all, we must return the reins of stewardship to Indigenous peoples.

Historical portrait of Kanza (aka Kaw, Kansa) people from my region of Kansas.© Wikipedia

Am I guilty of a romanticized view of the “noble savage?” Perhaps, but I am fully aware that humans of every origin have indulged in reprehensible behavior. The scale of the damage, however, has been overwhelmingly white, colonial, racist, and sexist, with religion, nationalism, and industrialization among the drivers.

Throughout our history we have allowed indigenous people to exist only on the white man’s terms, subject to revocation or modification at any time, without warning, due process, or any of the other mitigating factors we require when dealing with other white people. Land is subject to seizure at the whim of mining, logging, and other extractive industries. Income opportunities are limited, often relegated to casinos on reservation land, and anyone with a hint of “red” blood will try to unfairly stake a claim to those profits. Sacred ceremonies are reduced to spectacles for tourists, detached from their true meaning, and/or their appropriate seasonal timing.

What strikes me as relevant, and admirable, about native Americans, is the local and regional scale of their enterprise, and profound reverence for the natural landscape and the living things within it. That said, I recognize my woefully inadequate knowledge of the lifestyle of any Indigenous nation. My education was sparse, and through a white lens via textbooks and teachers, mostly in elementary school in the 1960s and early 1970s.

Where do we start to right the wrongs, and forge an integrated movement? First, we can acknowledge, at every public opportunity, that we represent as settlers on Indigenous land. I try to do this every time I give a presentation, about any topic. I sometimes fail, but know it will become habit eventually. We need to educate ourselves not only on the history of native Americans, but on the contemporary challenges they face. Today, we can get this information directly from Indigenous people themselves thanks to social media and the internet in general. Follow, share, and promote those individuals and organizations.

A slightly more contemporary portrait of Kaw people, 1974.© KawNation.gov

Read books written by Indigenous authors. View documentaries and other movies produced by Indigenous filmmakers. Learn Indigenous recipes and cooking methods. Explore ethnobotany and related fields. In short, we can put our money where our good intentions are. Being an ally should bring something tangible to the table.

One of the more innovative efforts I have seen is Advance Native Political Leadership, which focuses on leadership development within the Indigenous community, and beyond. You can find their candidate endorsements for this upcoming election cycle here. They have a long game approach worth supporting.

Maybe you are a member of an organization that would benefit from Indigenous perspectives. Invite Indigenous speakers to address your group. Feature Indigenous content in your newsletter. Invite participation from Indigenous persons period, and actively promote them to leadership posts.

Advocacy means listening first to the very people you are advocating for, and letting them steer your energy, rather than telling them what you think is best for them. I am going to shut up shortly here myself, as I think we have heard quite enough from old white men.

I’ll end by saying that my personal dreamcatcher has visions of reparations paid to Indigenous Americans, reverting sacred lands back to them, and holding their truths and practices in equity with our own western traditions, science, religions, and systems of justice and governance. The welfare of all peoples, and all species, is paramount, and woven seamlessly into every present and future endeavor.

The Colonist I Am

It is not commonplace for anyone to acknowledge their ignorance of, or complicity with, colonialism, in either a historical context or in the present day, but here I am, about to do exactly that. Some of our political leaders, and I use that word with great sarcasm, would prefer we remain uneducated, and our children left in the dark as well. It is up to each of us to confront our own blind spots and inadvertent participation in continued colonialism and racism. The overwhelming aspects of both are subtle and insidious, most of the time.

Someone on my late father's side of the family did our genealogy, and traced our New World roots to the Mayflower, quite literally. There were one hundred and two passengers, and a crew of thirty more, on that famous ship, which landed on the shores of Cape Cod, Massachusetts in 1620. A year prior, a different ship, the White Lion, brought the first African slaves to a colony in Virginia. Slaves of Spanish explorers coming to North America predate the English transport by nearly a century. My forefathers may not have started the fire, but they made no effort to extinguish it, either.

Somewhere between inappropriate pride in a White heritage, and shame and guilt about the past, there must be a plan of personal action to rectify injustices.

Did any of my ancestors actually own slaves? I have no idea, though it might be worth exploring. I would be interested to know if my family tree has any ties to Indigenous Americans, too. Is it necessary, though, to have a personal stake in the history of slavery to have empathy for the enslaved, the imprisoned, the opressed and murdered? I think not. Somewhere between inappropriate pride in a White heritage, and shame and guilt about the past, there must be a plan of personal action to rectify injustices. This applies even if you have not personally committed some overt act of bigotry, or incidental trespass. It begins with self-evaluation.

In creating a presentation recently for an organization of entomologists, it occurred to me how much overlap there is between environmental devastation and racism and colonialism. I asked myself why the scale of agriculture has intensified, beyond the Industrial Revolution, which amplified the Agricultural Revolution through mechanization, and now automation. Is it because we cannot feed the world any other way? No. In fact, those of us in the Western Hemisphere have an expectation that other nations feed us first, and themselves second.

I drink coffee. I love chocolate....Do my choices in the mareketplace make me a colonist all over again? Still?

Mea culpa. I eat bananas. I drink coffee. I love chocolate, and I no doubt consume my fair share of products made with palm oil. I enjoy pineapple on occasion. These crops have traditionally required deforestation to clear the land for their vast plantations. That is an environmental holocaust, but it also impacts indigenous human populations in a negative fashion. Where they are growing export crops they are not growing food for themselves.

Do my choices in the marketplace make me a colonist all over again? Still? Maybe. I have some soul-searching to do, some critical decisions to make if I do not wish to contribute to poverty and economic colonialism.

Being an ally to Black and Indigenous people here at home requires a different kind of effort. First, we have to commit to educating ourselves. Beyond Black History month, we need to examine the impediments that we have erected, on purpose or by ignorance, that prohibit or discourage participation in our workplaces, our public spaces, and neighborhoods and communities. In short, being an ally does not begin and end with joining protests over the most recent death at the hands of law enforcement, or other racist hate crime. The "everyday racism" is more difficult to detect and takes more work to eliminate.

If we can afford to finance wars, militarize the police, subsidize certain industries and corporations, and protect those with excessive wealth through tax legislation, then we can damn well afford reparations.

At a national level, there is talk of extending reparations: tangible financial benefits for the descendants of slaves. That puts the onous on Black people to prove they are related to former slaves. In my opinion, reparations should be made to Blacks, period, as they continue to face racism. I would also argue that reparations be given to Indigenous Americans. As it stands now, Whites are still mostly deciding where Indigenous and Black Americans can live, what jobs they can hold, and what rights they can enjoy.

Can we afford to pay reparations? If we can afford to finance wars, militarize the police, subsidize certain industries and corporations, and protect those with excessive wealth through tax legislation, then we can damn well afford reparations. You know where this is going. We should be paying reparations instead of financing endeavors that only serve to enrich those who are already wealthy.

As a Caucasian, cis, straight male, I do not feel threatened in any way by the idea of empowering those who have faced nothing but adversity for centuries on end. To the contrary, I believe my life is enriched beyond measure by knowing people of all identities. I learn from them, and I am a better, more sensitive and empathetic human being for it. There is no down side.

Learning how I can effectively participate in decolonization and anti-racism is an ongoing journey I have barely embarked on. With my White privilege comes the luxury of time to think, read, and listen. You, dear reader and follower, are invited to contribute your input, start conversations, and otherwise advance our collective goal of diversity, equality, and inclusion.

The Immigrants My Ancestors Were

© historythings.com

The roots of my personal heritage literally go back to the Mayflower. I suppose I should be proud of that distinction, but as I have grown older the novelty has worn thin and my more informed understanding of history, thanks to enlightened friends and obscure media outlets, has left me less than comfortable with my ancestral privilege. I take less for granted now, and have even more respect for those who have succeeded despite the governmental, cultural, and social obstructionism they have faced. Recent executive orders and openly hostile segments of our U.S. population are making me question what we are so afraid of, and the answers I suspect are ironic and troubling.

When my forefathers arrived in North America there was no United States. The land was occupied by indigenous tribes which either embraced the European aliens or slaughtered them, depending on which accounts you read or have been exposed to. Back in my day, at least, little mention was made in the textbooks about the diseases the White Man exposed the natives to, and how those illnesses devastated indigenous populations. I suspect this fact is still omitted from school lessons in an effort to protect our heroic Caucasian reputation.

We certainly don't make a habit of discussing our legacy of Native American oppression, from confining entire "tribes" to bleak reservations, stealing their children and placing them into boarding schools where they were "re-educated" to conform to the standards of their new White masters. Somewhere between the noble savage and the sworn enemy of progress lies the truth between stereotypical extremes. We still excuse ourselves today, turning a blind eye to the routing of indigenous Nations from where we have already banished them if it blocks the path of a pipeline, or sits atop an oil or gas deposit. Progress today is measured in White profit only.

Dare I even get started on how we have treated Blacks? Equally shameful. Again, we have barely progressed in the realization of past mistakes, while continuing to invent new transgressions. Reparations? Between Native Americans and Blacks alone, our debt of guilt and shame dwarfs the National Debt by several orders of magnitude, as it should. By some miracle of forgiveness and faith, these "minorities" have refrained from violently overwhelming us. Instead, most have exhibited remarkable tolerance, and extended the hands and hearts of friendship and cooperation in all segments of our society.

So, I ask you, those who stand behind measures to ban refugees, build a wall to block those seeking a better life, and exile those who are already here because they are of different faiths or cultures, what are you so afraid of? I think I know. You fear that what we once did to the natives and other minorities will now be done to you, to us. How ironic and awful that our own shame and guilt have morphed into toxic "protectionism" and nationalism. Those are poorly-disguised versions of racism, and you know it. We persist in this framework at our collective peril. No one profits from this mindset and the behaviors that stem from it.

The only way I can overcome my personal angst and sorrow over the fire my forefathers started is to not remain oblivious, idle, or silent. I am not proud of the errors of the past, but I am proud to recognize them, and to not ignore the ongoing plight of those less fortunate, regardless of their ethnicity, origin, or religious beliefs. The societal privilege I enjoy is a sheer coincidence of skin color, gender, and genealogy. Yes, it comes with historical baggage, too, but I own it. How about you?