Cherokee-Chief

petrichordiak  asked:

can i hear more about the class you hijacked? (this doesnt have to be private)

I actually got out of bed just so I could go full rant about this on my  computer, so y’all buckle up (thank you for giving me this opportunity lololol)

Okay, so this happened about a year, maybe a year and a half ago. I’m gonna go ahead and make this one public for the benefit of those that didn’t follow me back then, if that’s cool.

Let me preface this by saying that I had taken literally every one of the professor’s classes before then. Partly because they were the only anthropology style class the uni offered, and partly because halfway through the second class I realized that literally everything was the same, except the books, which we never used. Even the assignments were the same, and I had perfected a system of how to do those quickly, easily, and last-minute, lol. So it was pretty much the definition of an easy A, and the prof liked me bc I was nice, actually listened to her even though I’d heard it all before, and didn’t rat her ass out for not actually teaching what she was supposed to, lol.

I should’ve known right there.

So when there was an opportunity to take a Native Americans in North America class with her, I jumped on it. I needed the hours, I obviously knew a lot on the subject already, and it would be another easy a, if history was anything to go by. 

It became one of the most frustrating classes I have ever taken.

As always, the class started the same as the others. We started out learning about vocab and models. NBD, we’d get to specifics eventually, right?

Now there are about 16 to 18 weeks in your average semester.

By week 6 we had yet to learn anything about Native history. She’d assigned some reading about the moundbuilder’s archeological sites, but nothing about the modern day. Maybe she was just taking it slow, I thought, though I was bothered by her only talking about Natives in the past tense. But she’d told me in the first class I’d taken with her (years ago by now) that she was enrolled Native, so I didn’t call it out immediately. 

We get to week 8, halfway through the semester, she hadn’t covered anything. No mention of treaties, modern movements for civil rights, AIM (American Indian Movement), the illegal overthrow of Hawai’i, buffalo kill offs, smallpox blankets, Chicago museum’s bullshit, NAGPRA (a law protecting grave sites and demanding the return of remains to their Nation by museums and sites, if the Nation will accept them (sometimes they allow the remains to be housed by the museum bc they’re typically more secure there, but that’s very rare)) beyond how it affected archeologists, the different regions, the language families, ghost dance, the flooding of lands by companies illegally, human zoos, RESIDENTIAL SCHOOLS, THE FUCKING TRAIL OF TEARS, NOTHING.

Like your 4th grade history segment, as racist as it probably was, probably was more informative than this bitch was being, okay? And I was getting mad. Y’all know me. Native activism is a huge part of my life, and has been for years. Students were being allowed to say really racist shit unchecked. The prof wasn’t teaching jack. Misinformation was being spread, even by the prof.

It felt like even in a class dedicated to us, we didn’t matter. Our history didn’t matter. 

I was fed up.

Then, she pissed me the absolute fuck off. She proceeded to spend the rest of the class talking about South America.

Now, our Indigenous family below the equator absolutely deserve to be discussed. They have so many issues that really, really need to be boosted and respected. We do not raise their voices often enough. But this was a class specifically about North America, and her reasoning for making it otherwise was racist in so many ways.

First, she changed the curriculum outside of its scope because she was “MORE INTERESTED IN SOUTH AMERICA, AND WOULD HAVE TO DO RESEARCH TO TALK ABOUT” the issues I was publicly demanding to know when she would cover. As if her personal interest and ignorance were more important than our lives. 

(side note, it turns out she was lying about being enrolled and Native. Her white supremacist brother (not even kidding) had said that a Cherokee woman chief in Minnesota or some shit had enrolled them. I asked her if she meant Wilma Mankiller, the first modern female Cherokee chief. She said no, it was someone else, and in the late nineties, after Wilma would’ve no longer been Chief. I publicly called her out, and even another student jumped in to help, because there was no other woman Chief then, and there was no recognized Nation that far North. Her white supremacist brother had lied bc he felt othered while working near the Din’e on a job site, bc they didn’t include his racist ass, lol. So she’d lied her way into being allowed to teach a class she didn’t even know or care about. So at this point, I was fucking done with her, lol)

She also was showing us old propaganda films, and literally every group she discussed was being painted as ignorant, warlike savages by her and the materials. She even defended a man that intentionally exposed Indigenous peoples with no immunity to certain diseases to said diseases ‘just to see what would happen.’ She recommended his books, including ‘Noble Savages’ to us. I shouldn’t have to explain why that’s racist, lmao.

All of this is to say that I was VERY fed up, she (and the class) was VERY racist, and she was going down.

Then her foolish self decided to assign a massive project where we were supposed to ‘teach the class’ about a Native subject (y i k e s, esp. since the class was full of non-Natives). Since I was Fed Up, I decided to skip the usual schooling on cultural appropriation to instead teach everyone (including her) about just a smattering of the important things she hadn’t even mentioned in passing. :)

What followed was a 33 page powerpoint.

Apologies for any inaccuracies, and blanket tw for slurs, racism, death, csa, torture, child abuse, etc etc etc

(I added all the regalia pics bc they made me happy and calmed me down, which I was gonna need. I set the presentation up as “Man, I sure had trouble deciding what to make my presentation about. Should I talk about X? Y? Z? This? That? This? And so on until I reached residential schools and Reconciliation as my discussion topic.)

I hope those gifs work. If not, they should be under my “Oka Crisis” tag, or “n i fn a history” and “n i fn a protests” tags. I also had decided early to use the Nations actual names where possible.

Oh look, a quick and easy way to make people realize THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T FUCKING REFER TO US AS SLURS, and here’s how to discuss the issue without being additionally harmful.

OH LOOK, SOURCES

#FreeLeonardPeltier

Getting progressively angrier at this point. The class is smart enough to stay silent.

#MMIW #NoMoreStolenSisters. Please bring them home. Whatever it takes.

Stayed on this slide juuust long enough to stare each person in class down.

Oh look, we’re finally hitting my actual topic. Again, shit’s about to get very heavy. Please read only if you can. I will not be glancing over these to check them rn, bc I can’t. I’m sharing just for y’all to see, and hopefully reblog to educate people.

I honestly wept as I worked on this part. I can’t read it again.

Calling it out.

AYUP. Canadians are so nice and their government isn’t problematic at all

There are survivors that are my age, and younger.

Not letting them forget that this isn’t just in the past. It still wounds us.

It still hurts. We’re still recovering.

I included resources for them, including the prof, to actually educate themselves, since our school sure as shit wasn’t going to do it.

A handful of my sources.

Anyways. I was done. So fucking done. She (the prof) still tried to guide the class back and pretend that it was acceptable that she hadn’t taught them anything. I didn’t let her. I reminded them all that the only reason that this was Canada focused was bc they’d just had the Truth and Reconciliation reports, whereas the US government hasn’t put any effort into assembling data on their atrocities. Go figure.

Anyways, happy #Canada150 everybody :)

OK to reblog.

The Cherokee Word For Water (2013)
dir.  Tim Kelly & Charlie Soap

1. Is she a main character? YES.

2. Does this character fall in love with a white man? NO.

3. Does this character end up raped or murdered at any point during the story? NO / NO

Wilma Mankiller from The Cherokee Word For Water passes The Aila Test 

Submitted by  sofriel 

But if the natives are already agriculturalists, then why not simply incorporate their productivity into the colonial economy? At this point, we begin to get closer to the question of just who it is (or, more to the point, who they are) that settler colonialism strives to eliminate—and, accordingly, closer to an understanding of the relationship between settler colonialism and genocide. To stay with the Cherokee removal: when it came to it, the factor that most antagonized the Georgia state government (with the at-least-tacit support of Andrew Jackson’s federal administration) was not actually the recalcitrant savagery of which Indians were routinely accused, but the Cherokee’s unmistakable aptitude for civilization. Indeed, they and their Creek, Choctaw, Chickasaw and Seminole neighbours, who were also targeted for removal, figured revealingly as the “Five Civilized Tribes” in Euroamerican parlance. In the Cherokee’s case, two dimensions of their civility were particularly salient. They had become successful agriculturalists on the White model, with a number of them owning substantial holdings of Black slaves, and they had introduced a written national constitution that bore more than a passing resemblance to the US one. Why should genteel Georgians wish to rid themselves of such cultivated neighbours? The reason why the Cherokee’s constitution and their agricultural prowess stood out as such singular provocations to the officials and legislators of the state of Georgia—and this is attested over and over again in their public statements and correspondence—is that the Cherokee’s farms, plantations, slaves and written constitution all signified permanence. The first thing the rabble did, let us remember, was burn their houses. Brutal and murderous though the removals of the Five Civilized Tribes generally were, they did not affect each member equally. This was not simply a matter of wealth or status. Principal Cherokee chief John Ross, for example, lost not only his plantation after setting off on the Trail of Tears. On that trail, one deathly cold Little Rock, Arkansas day in February 1839, he also lost his wife, Qatie, who died after giving her blanket to a freezing child. Ross’s fortunes differed sharply from those of the principal Choctaw chief Greenwood LeFlore, who, unlike Ross, signed a removal treaty on behalf of his people, only to stay behind himself, accept US citizenship, and go on to a distinguished career in Mississippi politics. But it was not just his chiefly rank that enabled LeFlore to stay behind. Indeed, he was by no means the only one to do so. As Ronald Satz has commented, Andrew Jackson was taken by surprise when “thousands of Choctaws decided to take advantage of the allotment provisions [in the treaty LeFlore had signed] and become homesteaders and American citizens in Mississippi.” In addition to being principal chiefs, Ross and LeFlore both had White fathers and light skin. Both were wealthy, educated and well connected in Euroamerican society. Many of the thousands of compatriots who stayed behind with LeFlore lacked any of these qualifications. There was nothing special about the Choctaw to make them particularly congenial to White society—most of them got removed like Ross and the Cherokee. The reason that the remaining Choctaw were acceptable had nothing to do with their being Choctaw. On the contrary, it had to do with their not (or, at least, no longer) being Choctaw. They had become “homesteaders and American citizens.” In a word, they had become individuals. What distinguished Ross and the removing Choctaw from those who stayed behind was collectivity. Tribal land was tribally owned—tribes and private property did not mix. Indians were the original communist menace. As homesteaders, by contrast, the Choctaw who stayed became individual proprietors, each to his own, of separately allotted fragments of what had previously been the tribal estate, theirs to sell to White people if they chose to. Without the tribe, though, for all practical purposes they were no longer Indians (this is the citizenship part). Here, in essence, is assimilation’s Faustian bargain— have our settler world, but lose your Indigenous soul. Beyond any doubt, this is a kind of death. Assimilationists recognized this very clearly. On the face of it, one might not expect there to be much in common between Captain Richard Pratt, founder of the Carlisle boarding school for Indian youth and leading light of the philanthropic “Friends of the Indian” group, and General Phil Sheridan, scourge of the Plains and author of the deathless maxim, “The only good Indian is a dead Indian.” Given the training in individualism that Pratt provided at his school, however, the tribe could disappear while its members stayed behind, a metaphysical variant on the Choctaw scenario. This would offer a solution to reformers’ disquiet over the national discredit attaching to the Vanishing Indian. In a paper for the 1892 Charities and Correction Conference held in Denver, Pratt explicitly endorsed Sheridan’s maxim, “but only in this: that all the Indian there is in the race should be dead. Kill the Indian in him and save the man.”
— 

Patrick Wolfe, Settler Colonialism and the Elimination of the Native

anti-Communism has been part of the European soul since before Communism was a thing

FCA (formerly Chrysler) is planning to release a flagship vehicle called the Grand Wagoneer by the year 2018….The original Jeep Grand Wagoneers were considered the first luxury 4x4 and sold and produced through numerous marques from 1963 …to 1991.
This photo is not a Grand Wagoneer but instead, of a 1975 Jeep Cherokee Chief, whose chassis was based upon the original Wagoneer. The Cherokees (built from 1974 through 1983) were marketed as the “sporty” two-door variant of Jeep’s station wagon. The term “Sport Utility” appeared for the first time in the 1974 Cherokee sales brochure… A four-door was not added to the lineup until 1977.

anonymous asked:

I'm quite a dark Native American and every time I say I'm Indian people always look at me weirdly and make it hard for me to be proud as I feel like I just shouldn't say my ethnicity/race anymore.

Never let someone else tell you who you are.

I really struggle/d with identity issues growing up. I never felt “Indian” enough. I even went through a phase of never saying I was Native because I was so tired of having to explain to people why I didn’t look like Disney’s Pocahontas. Or that we still exist. Why was I so tall/light/dark/big/small? People would ask me my tribe and scoff when I answered saying they ‘never heard of it, must not be real’. Then they would turn around and inform me that they were descendants of Cherokee Chiefs and Princesses. Or else people would ask me “how much” not understanding how hurtful that is and that my answer would never satisfy people. I saw interviews on TV where people like Angelina Jolie, Cameron Diaz, Bill Clinton, etc would casually say they were Native American like it was a hobby. Native today. Greek tomorrow. I would look at their faces and then my own in the mirror wondering ‘Why don’t I look like them?’ I wondered what was wrong with me. 

Yet I didn’t get to blend in seamlessly with mainstream society either. In Farmington, NM I was assaulted by a random guy because I was a “dirty Native”. I had a person ask me on an interview, out of the blue, if I liked to drink because they “know how [we] are”. I had a bottle thrown at my head in Albuquerque while someone shouted at me to “Go back to Mexico”. I’ve been mistaken for Filipino, India Indian, Hispanic, Samoan, Pacific Islander, Mongolian repeatedly. 

I felt alone. Sometimes I still do. 

I feel like I disappoint people when they meet me. “You speak really well.” “Wow you are smart.” “You have really nice hair.” “I never met a real Native!” But why do people sound so surprised? These aren’t compliments to me. These make me curl up at night, wondering if I am pandering or if I am a traitor. They cause me to question myself. Then they make me upset because ‘Why wouldn’t I speak well? Why wouldn’t I be smart? Why shouldn’t I exist.’

I was invited to the White House a few weeks ago as a ‘representative’. I felt uncomfortable with that title. Also perhaps, deep inside, I didn’t feel Native enough. I can name 20 Native Women off the top of my head more deserving. I ended up speaking at a local Urban Indian health center instead that day and (hopefully) gave my spot to someone I felt was more deserving. She is Black American, Oneida, Caucasian and grew up on army bases around the world - never living on a reservation. But she knows her cultures. She is proud of her cultures. She is what I aspire to be. Confident. Proud. Constantly finding out new knowledge about her cultures. 

I wish I could give you a hug. You are not alone. You deserve to be proud. You deserve to be magnificent. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to be accepted. You deserve to define who you are.

Be proud of who you are. Your race is a social construct, but your culture and your knowledge defines you. There is no such thing as an ‘Ideal Indian’. You just being the best you is what is ideal. Embrace that.