MIXED BLOOD NATIVES-THE SILENCE OF INDIAN COUNTRY

MIXED BLOOD NATIVES-THE SILENCE OF INDIAN COUNTRY

BY MIKE RACCOON EYES KINNEY

As was discussed in ‘Mixed Blood Natives-The Silence of Indian Country’ (Part-1),

Quanah Parker as a mixed blood Native made the decision to leave one culture and enter into another culture.

The story of the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Creek and Seminloe has a similar theme as well. The Cherokee culture was steeped deeply into the great Meso-American pyramid temple cities as early as 800 A.D. When the Olmecs, Toltecs, Mayans and Aztecs were moving from North to into the South deep into Mexico and Central America, they quickly absorbed and embraced building their own great pyramid temple spiritual cities they had observed and seen in the great Cherokee cities of the Southeast.

Cherokee intermarriage to both the Mexican and Central Americans would become the norm for the next 300 years. The mixed blood Cherokees would hold a high place of honor within the Meso-American world of Mexico and Central America. For the mixed blood Cherokee of the time were the priests, prophets, engineers and administrators, who were the elite of running the new spiritual pyramid temple cities of both Mexico and Central America. Without the mixed blood Cherokees, the great pyramid temple cities in Mexico and Central America would cease to run, much less function.

The Cherokee started having intergenerational marriage and ‘sexual relationships with the Europeans in the early 1700’s. Many Cherokee bands and families were quick to see the economic benefits of having trade, land and business dealings with Europeans. In a sense this could be viewed as a classic Cherokee version of the ‘hang around the fort Indians’. However this story was not true for the majority of mixed blood Cherokee people of that time!

For the the upper class elite of mixed blood Cherokee of the late 1700s and early 1800s, it was not uncommon for them to have extensive plantations, a lavish life-style that would have not been uncommon in London or Paris and a sizable work force of African slaves. Many well to do mixed blood Cherokee were highly educated in New York, Washington D.C. or even London.

The preference of mixed blood Cherokee men of the time were to marry European or other mixed blood Cherokee women. Their children and grandchildren would follow suit. The new generation of light-skinned mixed blood bourgeoisie Cherokee would wash their hands of and renounce the traditional ways of Cherokee culture and Spirituality.

However, there was another side to the mixed blood Cherokee people, that has been neglected and treated with silence. The story is that of the traditional mixed blood Cherokee that retained their cultural and Spiritual identities.

The traditional mixed blood Cherokee lived along the side of their full blood cousins in the pre-1830’s in large rural wilderness areas that were isolated communities of families and bands in vast tracks of land through out the greater Southeast of the U.S.

Even during the days of post Contact, while the Europeans were eco-raping the land, extensive outreach by the missionaries to convert out People by force and the Federals in league with newly established State of Georgia authorities were to use brutal and ruthless tactics to remove remove the Real People from our lands with the discovery of gold, both mixed and full blood Cherokee people still retained an amazing amount of sovereignty and autonomy because they knew both spiritually and culturally they were the Creator’s original Holy People.

The Indian Killer Jackson enforced the new Indian Removal Act at the heart land of our Great Cherokee Nation in the mid and late 1830s. Bluecoat soldiers started first with the Cherokee in the new policy or ethnic cleansing, relocation and the reservation system. So began ‘Our Trail of Our Tears. where 20,000 Cherokee were relocated to Indian Territory. No one was spared! Not full or mixed bloods or even the bourgeoisie Cherokee were spared from Jackson’s vision of hell to kill our People!

However, large pockets of both mixed and full blood Cherokee families and bands did manage to escape and offer a sizable resistance coming from Cherokee country. My own family, the Raccoon Eyes were one such family. My Great, great, great, Grandmother- Polly Raccoon Eyes was born in 1714 in Rowan County, North Carolina, she was a full blood woman of the Eastern Band. When Polly was 12 years of age she was a domestic to the Newsome family. In the year 1726, Polly and the Newsome family walked some 400 miles from North Carolina to our family village in Southeast Kentucky.

They would eventually settle in the high hills and river country at a location called Sooky’s Creek. Sooky’s Creek was our old historical family village and it had old burial mounds of our Cherokee ancestors dating back so 4,000 years. It was the homeland of the Raccoon Eyes band. Elder Newsome a white Englishman would leave his wife and family to join Polly as his common law wife. From the time she was 18 years of age and older, Polly would bear some 12 sons and daughter in their union.

It was here that the mixed blood lineage of the Raccoon Eyes family would begin at our family village at Sooky’s Creek. It was here where the Raccoon Eyes family would fight a successful guerilla war against Jackson’s Bluecoat Indian killers.

The mixed blood Cherokee were killing high numbers of Bluecoat soldiers in Southeast Kentucky. However bullets were running low for the long rifles, hunger and starvation were abundant and the hard brutal winters were taking it’s toll on the children, women and Elders in the campaign against the Bluecoats and their allies.

The mixed and full blood elders and ancestors had to make the decision to surrender and turn themselves in so they could survive as a People! They were forced to take missionary surname, embrace a alien Deity and the most hideous of act all… to have forced sexual relations with the white conquerors. The ultimate goal and reason our Cherokee men and women did this for was to keep lightening and lightening our skin color until we could ‘pass for white’. It was the only way as the Real Cherokee People could survive and not become victims of more ethnic cleansing.

Until a generation of fair-skinned, Blue-eyed Cherokee was created! It was the most painful and heart-breaking decisions that our Elders made at the time! BUT WHAT ELSE COULD THEY HAVE DONE?? But we have fulfilled their dream to be alive and celebrate our survival as a People.

I honor and give thanks to my Elder’s decisions to let the Raccoon Eyes family to continue to live and exist! And their are hundreds of thousands of we mixed blood Cherokee people alive today to tell our stories and celebrate that we the REAL PEOPLE are still here! We are just as a part of the history of Indian Country as any other Native people! I always celebrate Native folks who look like us.

Like Quanah Parker who chose to leave his Father’s world and live among his Mother’s world, I chose some 35 years ago to leave my Mother’s mainstream world and enter into my Father’s world of being who and what I truly am…..a Native Man!

Cousins, I tell it was the best decision I ever made. To reclaim my Culture, my Spirituality and most importantly my….life!

We can no longer afford as mixed blood People of Turtle Island to sit in silence and ignorance of the reality of who we are as true Native People! We can no longer sit back and attack ourselves, beat ourselves up and pound ourselves for crimes we have NEVER committed. It now time to view we mixed blood Native People, with good self-esteem, good self-worth and good self value. For this was the Creator’s plan!

Remember all WE Native People are the Creator’s Holy People!

Wado and A-ho my Brothers and Sisters,

TEACHING THE VALUES OF PEACE, A NATIVE PERSPECTIVE

TEACHING THE VALUES OF PEACE IN INDIAN COUNTRY

By: Mike (Ali) Raccoon Eyes Kinney

As a Cherokee Native American Activist and a former member of the Richmond California Violence Prevention Movement, I have seen close to 515 homicides in the City of Richmond from 2001 to the present.

The declaration of a ‘war on violence’ by the Richmond city government was not the panacea, instead it failed miserably.

I have often stated in town hall meetings and on television, the best way to win the ‘war on violence’ in Richmond is to ‘TEACH THE VALUES OF PEACE’.

In the killing fields of Richmond, most of the victims of homicides are youth or young adults. Teaching the values of peace begins with our youth and young adults. From a Native perspective, winning the war on violence begins in the home with a strong, spiritual belief and value system.

We believe that Creator made all generations, past, present and those of the future, holy people. This is what our Elders teach us from the time we are born.

Our families and Elders teach our young people that they must tear away the images and stereotypes that mainstream society has placed upon them as Native peoples.

Violence and killing is not traditional in Native culture, it is a learned behavior from mainstream society.

We teach our youths not to attack, punish or beat themselves up for crimes that they have never committed in regards to racism. Our Elders and families teach our young people to have good self-esteem, self-worth and self-value, for as the original holy people this was Creators plan.

Native people know that it is both family and community responsibility to teach the values of peace to our young people.

We teach our young people honesty and accountability concerning violence. It begins with accepting responsibility for self and acknowledging any past use of violence.

Admitting any wrongdoing, communicating openly and truthfully to renounce the use of violence in the future places our youth on the right path. We place a heavy emphasis that all life is sacred.

The final lesson in teaching the values of peace is quite simple. It is helping young people understand their relationship to others and all things in Creation.

Be responsible for your role, act with compassion and respect, and remember ALL LIFE IS SACRED. Native culture is prevention!

Mike (Ali) Raccoon Eyes Kinney  

Me as a Mixed Blood

( – promoted by navajo)

Introduction

I finished this in approximately May of 2008 and wanted to wait till the issue came up again and after I was able to let it go to discuss it. Poignantly, I wish to discuss the issue of “many simply feel they do not belong.”


High Country: Blood quantum threatens tribes

Thousands of Native Americans are not enrolled in their tribes because their bloodlines have become diluted over the years, as is happening with the Comes Last family. Even some full-blooded Native Americans lack enough of any one tribe’s heritage to qualify for enrollment. .. And, on a more intangible note, many simply feel they do not belong.

Another way of saying “many simply feel they do not belong” is to say that many feel isolated.  I’ll offer some thoughts on that and then share the essay I wrote in 2008.

Feeling isolated and not belonging are different from really being isolated and really not belonging. I really was overall isolated the first six months of my life at the DHS before being adopted. The practice and importance of picking up newborns was not yet established; so, when my parents got me, I had a flat head. I spent most of my life feeling like I didn’t belong and that I was alone, but that was fiction I told myself.  Again, feeling isolated and not belonging are different from really being isolated and really not belonging. Here’s how I pulled the wool over my own eyes.

I felt alone to start with, so I was a bitter victim. Furthermore, my studdering didn’t help any. If someone expressed love, I would to a greater or lesser degree turn my back, then I would really be alone. I made being a loner a self fulfilling prophecy by overreacting to the smallest of perceived rejection and so forth, yet if I had responded in kind to the care being shown to me in the first place, I wouldn’t have been alone. Consequently, learning that took me twenty years. Interesting, because I was always surprised when people didn’t reject me for saying the main way I know I’m 1/6 something is by a DNA test. That’s a huge revelation for mixed bloods like me: if someone expresses care it’s because they care.  I didn’t  always know that though.

My biological mother told me in one of few phone conversations that the family rumor was that the American Indian heritage originated in Oklahoma, but didn’t know anything more about it. I became furious without being able to acknowledge it at the time. I didn’t know who to be angry at: her, my ancestors, Christianity, or the extermination policy of the U.S. government towards my ancestors.  I finally forgave it, yet I think it’s easier for me not knowing specific details about specific ancestors, than for those who do. I can safely assume they were assimilated into the Christian faith my biological mother professes and so on, but specific details are lacking. Point is, it’s been all too easy to make unsound assumptions about other’s motivations, and then use those unsound assumptions as an excuse to refuse their love. On the other hand, is someone is being negative, that’s much more easily dealt with when accepting other’s love is the common choice as opposed to living at a distance.  If you’re a mixed blood, you’re not alone and you’re needed. Feeling isolated and not belonging are different from really being isolated and really not belonging.  Here’s the essay I wrote in spring of 2008.

_______________________________________________________________________

What can you do when you’re a mixed blood and a DNA test is the only proof that you’re Native American? First off, you must be aware that you are part of a modern dilemma  that has no easy answers. Those answers must come from the individual’s awareness of this modern dilemma in a historical context, wherein from that historical context the individual might find their suitable answers.


Biometrics in Indian Country: The Bloody fight for Authenticity

In this essay, I touch on the issues of …the implications of an increasing ‘mixed-blood’ Indian community, and the growing place of DNA testing in Indian country…

– snip –

“The internalization of blood quantum criteria to determine identity has promoted in-group conflict, leaving First Peoples and their descendents fighting each other under the table for the pitiful scraps thrown by the lord and lady of the manor… (Baird-Olson, 2003: 212).”

To reiterate, there are no easy answers on such a mass scale; however, one must be honest and let the cards fall.

Experience has shown me that the cards don’t fall, unless the person I’m communicating with is being dishonest and disregarding the system of relationships between tribal members that yield the power and political status that they think they have. These individuals then demand financial compensation after marketing themselves while committing something much worse than identity theft. Consequently, those in my or similar circumstance with lost history are sitting ducks for such predators; hence, my advice is to not ask questions, but run. I briefly define this character in the next paragraph. Let’s take another brief look at the dilemma, it’s past and present reasons, and then I will share my experience and hope.


Denying Assistance to Mixed Bloods Perpetuates Genocide

Life will be better for all of us when Indian Country abandons the “us and them” mentality and extends a hand in friendship to mixed bloods.

We will now concisely discuss past reasons for this dilemma after mentioning cultural genocide as critical reasons for being honest about one having tribal affiliation or not. There is a need to address with absolute candor the subject of claiming identity with a particular tribe in light of the existence of plastic medicine men and others that “claim tribal status in order to secure highly desirable jobs.” Historically speaking and not mentioning Allotment and so on right now, the problem has been dishonesty. White men married Indian women to steal their land, whites claimed to have Indian identity when they really weren’t Indian in order to steal land; so, it’s no surprise today that history is repeating itself. What can someone do to help stop that history from repeating? Be honest, and brutally so. But what specific history is repeating that causes the hard feelings?

Answering that question, anyone that knows anything about the Dawes Commission knows that putting people in positions of having lost records of family members was the goal all along.

Conquering the land –


“The Dawes Commission” by Kent Carter. p. 2.

The Indian Office appropriations bill passed on March 3, 1893, established a pattern of using such legislation to attack tribal autonomy that would become all too familiar to those delegations.

– by revising and attacking, according to how best the land could be stolen, the very definition of Indian identity.


“The Dawes Commission” by Kent Carter. p. 44.

The Dawes Commission decided that its task was not to find everyone who had Indian blood; it was to enroll only those people who met the exact requirements of the law as they defined it. This position frustrated applicants and their lawyers at the time and drives present – day family researchers to tears.

Indeed it has.

Truth heals, but always after boiling out the infection. Unavoidably, I was raised without any knowledge of any American Indian ancestry whatsoever in my blood for having been adopted into a very loving family. Being honest, my Native American biological origins which are only from my biological mother’s side of the family, where I get my 16% Native American blood from isn’t something I like to think about. Images of her stripping with me inside of her, while smoking marijuana or drinking fill me with disgust if I dwell on it. I hate strip clubs for that reason, and realizing that nudity was still allowed under Oklahoma State law when I was in high school makes me realize the dollar bills probally fell on the floor by her and went not
into her g -string. Yet her allowing herself to be robbed of her values in that way is almost a parable for why I have no place in the Native American world in any tribally recognized capacity. Truth heals, but always after boiling out the infection.

I cannot say for sure my Indian ancestors were exterminated, but this I do know: they and thus me were and are assimilated; victims of the cultural genocide of at least Allotment, racism, and genocide denial of their time. The shame of my biological mother is the shame of my ancestors who became Christianized and left their cultural history behind because of shame, survival, or both. The tribe and the clan were lost from me and from at least my biological grandparents, which condemns me to be a walking example of a successful extermination, culturally speaking.


The legal definition of genocide

The phrase “in whole or in part” is important.

Perpetrators need not intend to destroy the entire group. Destruction of only part of a group (such as its educated members, or members living in one region) is also genocide. Most authorities require intent to destroy a substantial number of group members – mass murder. But an individual criminal may be guilty of genocide even if he kills only one person, so long as he knew he was participating in a larger plan to destroy the group.

Next, I will share what is right for me in my situation and not necessarily for anyone else. Knowing these things about myself and my general history, there is something I will never do. I will illustrate what I’ll never do by sharing a conversation I had with my wife when she asked me something in general about my ever having tribal affiliation after the Chickasaw tribal anthropologist asked me if I was Indian at a recent conference. I told him the bare outline of what I’ve stated in the first paragraph and about my DNA test results. Here’s what I told her.

“Even if I learn informally that I’m this or that tribe, I’ll never say what that is in a public format unless these things have been done: I’ve contacted the tribe, an elder knows about my family history, they are on the Dawes Rolls, and I get a card.” She had some questions and didn’t exactly object, but here’s what I responded with. “It’s not fair, but neither is life. This is how it has to be done. If I ever do miraculously end up as a tribal member; I’m not taking any benefits. The only immediate value would be in having another tribal member listed on their membership rolls for obvious reasons.”

Consequently, my response to the valid, not sound idea that I must first contact the tribe, then find an elder who knows about my family history, then locate them on the Dawes Rolls, and then get a card before I can say that I’m barely over 1/6th Native American, is that I refuse to be homogenized. Whatever this 16% is in me that turns my heart and blood red, is going to live. Not so with my half sisters.

I have two half sisters who I am 99.9% certain I will never meet from my biological mother; consequently, whatever American Indian ancestry that is in me is also in them. Hence, my entire living family from which comes my Native American heritage is walking examples of successful cultural exterminations. Please don’t tell us to go off and die; we’re already dead, culturally speaking.


Source

The problem involves those people claiming to be Native American although they are not enrolled with any particular tribe.

As I said in the beginning, truth heals after boiling out the infection, but boiling the infection out makes room for the cure. Here is the cure for being a walking example of a successful cultural extermination.

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Deer at Quartz Mountain

Those cures feel temporary, because back at home with its walls and ceilings the affliction of civilization begins anew. However, this cure is permanent “depending on my spiritual condition.”


MITAKUYE OYASIN

You are all my relations, my relatives, without whom I would not live. We are in the circle of life together, co-existing, co-dependent, co-creating our destiny. One, not more important than the other.  One nation evolving from the other and yet each dependent upon the one above and the one below. All of us a part of the Great Mystery.

Each day I choose to be either a walking example of a successful cultural extermination, or I choose to be an example of Mitakuye Oyasin. I choose to be the whites in my history who helped American Indians, and never the whites in my history who I imagine probably exterminated them. Whatever I choose to be in any given day, and hopefully it’s choosing to be an example of Mitakuye Oyasin and being of at least some small service to “All My Relations” more often than not, that’s me as a mixed blood.

Concluding, part of the meaning in the suffering for me personally was stated by someone who is a complete surprise in my life. I was recently reunited with my biological father; his side of the family is all German and he married a woman who is Blackfoot. He introduced her to me as my mother; she would have been my step mother. She gave me a crystal she had dug up long ago and said, “This is just like you, all broken up inside but it holds itself together somehow. It’s beautiful, just like you.” I smiled with my heart and remembered Crazy Horse’s vision.


Chief Crazy Horse, Oglala Sioux (This statement was taken from Crazy Horse as he sat smoking the Sacred Pipe with Sitting Bull for the last time, four days before he was assassinated.)

“Upon suffering beyond suffering: the Red Nation shall rise again and it shall be a blessing for a sick world. A world filled with broken promises, selfishness and separations. A world longing for light again. I see a time of Seven Generations when all the colors of mankind will gather under the Sacred Tree of Life and the whole Earth will become one circle again. In that day, there will be those among the Lakota who will carry knowledge and understanding of unity among all living things and the young white ones will come to those of my people and ask for this wisdom. I salute the light within your eyes where the whole Universe dwells. For when you are at that center within you and I am that place within me, we shall be one.”

I hope we make it come true along with similar visions, dreams, philosophies, and hopes.

For if we don’t, let us say that the genocide and the slavery that infected the New World, the hubris of Manifest Destiny,the current economic crisis with all of its social consequences, and the current climate change crisis with all of its social consequences are just too much for us. Are they, really? That is the question we all need to be asking ourselves; accordingly, non – Indians should be asking themselves the questions that David Gabbard, a non – Indian, poses in his essay entitled “Before Predator Came.” If it really is all just too much for us to apply the precepts of unity while simultaneously respecting each other’s cultural and geographic boundaries, then history has already shown us what the alternative is.


Unlearning the Language of Conquest Scholars Expose Anti-Indianism in America. p. 219

As difficult as it may be for non – Indians to realize the corruption of American Institutions, such as universities, or to recognize the hypnotic effect of propaganda and hegemony, it may be far more difficult for them to mitigate the shadow side of their own cultural histories. In this chapter a non – Indian (David Gabbard) scholar stresses how vital it is to do so nonetheless, for until a true realization occurs, the United States of America will likely continue its similar intrusions of colonialism in other parts of the world and on other people. He points out that for this realization to take place, we must recognize First Nations scholarship as a set of practices aimed at helping everyone remember themselves and that efforts to discredit that scholarship and the worldviews that it attempts to recover can keep us in a cycle of genocide that will ultimately consume us.

David Gabbard’s essay entitled “Before Predator Came” in“Unlearning the Language of Conquest Scholars Expose Anti-Indianism in America” by editor Four Arrows (Don Trent Jacobs). p. 230

For European Americans in particular, we need to inquire into the history of our ancestors’ journeys across the Atlantic. Did they really leave Europe to escape religious persecution, or were the majority of our ancestors deemed elements of a surplus population whose deportation could help facilitate predator’s virulent spread to other corners of the earth? Did the enclosure movement and the subsequent deportation of the unemployed and “criminal” elements to the Americas, Africa, and Australia constitute our own “Trail of Tears”? Was it a forerunner to the reservation system imposed on the Indigenous People that predator would later establish? These and other questions abound. Seeking their answers is vital for the sake of remembering ourselves. First Nations scholars from the Indigenous Peoples of North America and elsewhere have shown us the door; it is up to us to walk through it. It’s the only path home.

Mitakuye Oyasin  

Church Rock: Radioactive Spill Disaster

( – promoted by navajo)

On the morning of July 16, 1979, Church Rock (just east of Gallup, NM and north of I-40)  was a small sun baked community of mainly Navajo (Dine’) people,  herding sheep or growing a little corn amidst red dirt and sagebrush.  Clusters of traditional hogans (eight sided cabins) and mobile homes can be seen from the roads throughout the region, marking family land allotments.  

Behind an earthen pond dam, ninety million gallons of liquid radioactive waste, and eleven hundred tons of solid mill wastes were sitting in a pond waiting for evaporation to leave behind solids.  Suddenly, the dam gave way and the waters burst through, flowing out across the red land, and down the washes to permanently contaminate the Rio Puerco, known to traditional Dine’ as To’ Nizhoni (beautiful water.)  This may look like a large dry wash to people passing over it at 80 miles an hour on the interstate.  There is water mostly when there are thunderstorms in the watershed or when the winter snow melts up in the mountains.  There are not a lot of people living out here.  You can see a long way when the interstate tops a rise, and you can see a great empty distance with long train tracks.  When the freight trains come through, they bear logos like MAERSK, China Shipping, Costco.  Consumer goods bound for the big box stores elsewhere.  

Today, although few tourists stopping at the massive Route 66 casino and tourist/truck stop complex know about it, the Church Rock accident is acknowledged as likely the largest single release of radioactive contamination ever to take place in U.S. history (outside of the atomic bomb tests).  A few weeks after it occurred, the mine and mill operator, United Nuclear Corporation, was back in business at Church Rock as if nothing had happened.

I lived on the Navajo Nation for several years, at Tsaile, Az near Lukachukai – over the mountains to the north and west of Church Rock by maybe 80 miles as the crow flies.  I came to know several families that had been affected by uranium mining.

There are still miners, now in their 80s and 90s who are suffering the effects and bearing witness to those that know them.  

The reason that the Navajo Nation banned uranium mining a couple of years ago was primarily because of the complete and utter disregard for Navajo people that mining has brought with it.  That doesn’t seem to have changed, as companies with recent proposals seem to think that just ghastly after effects will be much more tolerated among Navajos than anywhere else.  

Recently, there have been proposals to use volumes of water and settling ponds as a way of getting uranium out of the ground.  Local meetings are held and the company dismisses concern that this will contaminate the water supply – in an area where water is terribly precious.  If they proposed this with a straight face in any large urban community in the country they would get laughed out of there. Rural areas are in a terrible bind, due to lack of jobs and lack of information resources. There is also a dearth of effective advocacy on the part of elected officials, who are also from the same financially desperate environment and who may depend on mining companies for information.

One of the more amazing things I learned from being in the neighborhood was that children of the original “dog hole” miners from the 1960s and before believe that they experience second generation health impacts and worry about passing genetic damage on.  The health care provider in the area is the Indian Health Service.  I checked with the IHS and discovered that the federal government never did any studies assessing this.  

Consistently, Indian people are treated to a great amount of disregard.  If there are no studies, than the prospect that people can complain about such effects is effectively muted.  That is completely consistent with the history of disregard and disrespect that Indian people have suffered at the hands of government, missionies and loads of well meaning others. These are very family oriented people.  They remain closely connected with aunts and uncles, cousins, and in-law relations across the region.  Experience is shared.  

There are some 700 small mines still unclosed.  A “dog hole” basically means one man, one shovel.  The piles of dirt from these are still right where they were left.  Rain causes local water to be contaminated, which is taken up by plants and eaten by sheep and cows.  This can continue to create cancer risks for local people far into the future. Only recently has cleanup begun to be addressed, since interest in uranium was renewed by 4.00 per gallon gasoline.  

These are not people who can move away.  The land has been inherited down Dine’ family lines since at least the 1868 treaty, and possibly before that, as far back as about 1500 (maybe earlier).  A legacy like that cannot be replaced.

I think the Navajo Nation was right to ban uranium mining outright.  I can foresee a future in which some mining might be done again, but the problem that needs to be addressed is sufficient respect for the land and the people.  What is more likely is mining companies looking for ways to force their way in, through lawsuits, and overpower local concerns just like in the old days.

Mining seems to be accompanied by a psychology that disregards and disrespects local people and the local environment and is dishonest to boot.  Indian people are the last ethnic group to be considered when it comes to progress against racial discrimination.  It is hard to believe it until you develop friends who are Indian and then see it through their eyes.  It is just shameful that this should still be the case in 21st Century America. I am always sorry to see signs of it.

That is why Church Rock needs to be remembered.  

Continuing “The Genocide of Matriarchal Societies”

( – promoted by navajo)

I wrote The Genocide of Matriarchal Societies in April of 2007, and there is some additional information I want to share along those general lines now. We’ll pick up where we left off and the answer to “Where Are All Your Women” will be made chillingly clear as to why they are “Missing In Action.” First however, we will reread the words of Archie Fire Lame Deer and relish in the scholarship of Barbara Alice Mann.

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Archie Fire Lame Deer had discovered enormous commonalties in terms of visual imagery between those in his father’s Yuwipi ceremonies and the visual imagery of the Black Madonna. Next, he learned that medicine men and Black Madonnas shared the same tragic fate.


..one last example of synchronicity is between the Lakota and a prehistoric cave in France. Archie Fire Lame tells briefly of his travels there with his daughter, while talking to a guide he described as a “spiritual man.”

Archie

Fire Lame Deer & Richard Erdoes. “Gift Of Power.” pp. 277-278.

I found the image of a buffalo carved out of the living rock with water from a sacred spring flowing from its mouth. While I was contemplating this, I heard (his daughter) holler, “Daddy, quick, come here!” – There revealed a face exactly like the one my father always used during his Yuwipi ceremonies –

Then our guide said, “All this goes back thousands of years before Christianity.” – (He) kept the image of a dark-skinned prophetess that nowadays is called the “Black Madonna.” He told me, “They called her and her sisters witches and burned them at the stake.”

“I know all about this,” I said. “They called our medicine men witch doctors and shot them dead for the same reasons.” He went on, “This here has survived. Few have been inside this cave. You have been chosen.”

Next, Barbara Alice Mann has made such valuable contributions in terms of outlining and defining the “Western obliteration of women from the record, (p. 129)” that I don’t think it can be retold too many times.


Unlearning the Language of Conquest Scholars Expose Anti-Indianism in America. “Where Are Your Women?: Missing In Action,” by Barbara Alice Mann. p. 121, 122, 124.

…in the often fractious discussions of the extent of Native American contributions to modern Euro – American culture, the glaring omission of women continues almost utterly unaddressed…Worse, from the European perspective, was the level of political clout wielded by woodlands women. The sixteenth – century Spaniards in La Florida (the whole American southwest) were nonplussed by matrilineage and the cacicas (female chiefs) with whom they were forced to deal…Spanish frustration was not a little focused on Guale females, who undermined patriarchal tampering with Guale culture…In 1724, the Jesuit missionary Joseph Francois Lafitau recorded in astonishment that Haudenosaunee women were “the souls of the councils…” Judicial affairs so entirely belonged to women that any woodlands man who wished to become a jurist or a negotiator had first to have been “made a woman” in order to be qualified for the job…

Mann then proceeds to outline the methods of genocide and cultural genocide used to destroy “the level of political clout wielded by woodlands women.” She tells how the Spanish forced these women “to scalp their own sons, husbands, fathers, and brothers,” and then Mann outlines “pen – and – ink witchcraft.” “Pen – and – ink witchcraft” can be thought of as deliberately revising history. Mann continues to discuss how the “pen – and – ink witchcraft” was used in attempting to change the character and even the very gender of various entities in creation stories.

Mann ends with the following request, “We need the strong arms of our brothers reinforcing us in this effort.” While I’m not a scholar, this is the best I can do.