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Native Americans in Upper Midwest protect their drumming tradition 

Mark Erickson, third from left, leads others in singing on the drum during an open drum and dance night at Minneapolis American Indian Center, July 10, 2024, in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Mark Erickson, third from left, leads others in singing on the drum during an open drum and dance night at Minneapolis American Indian Center, July 10, 2024, in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

At summertime social powwows and spiritual ceremonies throughout the Upper Midwest, Native Americans are gathering around singers seated at big, resonant drums to dance, celebrate and connect with their ancestral culture.

"I grew up singing my entire life, and I was always taught that dewe'igan is the heartbeat of our people," said Jakob Wilson, 19, using the Ojibwe term for drum that's rooted in the words for heart and sound. "The absolute power and feeling that comes off of the drum and the singers around it is incredible."

Wilson has led the drum group at Hinckley-Finlayson High School. In 2023, Wilson's senior year, they were invited to drum and sing at graduation. But this year, when his younger sister Kaiya graduated, the school board barred them from performing at the ceremony, creating dismay across Native communities far beyond this tiny town where cornfields give way to northern Minnesota's birch and fir forests.

"It kind of shuts us down, makes us step back instead of going forward. It was hurtful," said Lesley Shabaiash. She was participating in the weekly drum and dance session at the Minneapolis American Indian Center a few weeks after attending protests in Hinckley.

"Hopefully this incident doesn't stop us from doing our spiritual things," added the mother of four, who grew up in the Twin Cities but identifies with the Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe, whose tribal lands abut Hinckley.

In written statements, the school district's superintendent said the decision to ban "all extracurricular groups" from the ceremony, while making other times and places for performance available, was intended to prevent disruptions and avoid "legal risk if members of the community feel the District is endorsing a religious group as part of the graduation ceremony."

But many Native families felt the ban showed how little their culture and spirituality is understood. It also brought back traumatic memories of their being forcibly suppressed, not only at boarding schools like the one the Wilsons' grandmother attended, but more generally from public spaces.

It was not until the late 1970s that the American Indian Religious Freedom Act directed government agencies to make policy changes "to protect and preserve Native American religious cultural rights and practices."

"We had our language, culture and way of life taken away," said Memegwesi Sutherland, who went to high school in Hinckley and teaches the Ojibwe language at the Minneapolis American Indian Center.

The Center's weekly drum and dance sessions help those who "may feel lost inside" without connections to ancestral ways of life find their way back, said Tony Frank, a drum instructor.

"Singing is a door opener to everything else we do," said Frank, who has been a singer for nearly three decades. "The reason we sing is from our heart. Our connection to the drum and songs is all spiritual. You give 100 percent, so the community can feel a piece of us."

Community members dance to the drum during an open drum and dance night at Minneapolis American Indian Center, July 10. 2024, in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Community members dance to the drum during an open drum and dance night at Minneapolis American Indian Center, July 10. 2024, in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

In drum circles like those in Minneapolis, where many Natives are Ojibwe and Lakota, there is a lead singer, who starts each song before passing on the beat and verse to others seated at the drum, which is made of wood and animal hide (usually deer or steer).

A drum keeper or carrier cares for the drum, often revered as having its own spirit and considered like a relative and not like personal property. Keepers and singers are usually male; according to one tradition, that's because women can already connect to a second heartbeat when pregnant.

These lifelong positions are often passed down in families. Similarly, traditional lyrics or melodies are learned from older generations, while others are gifted in dreams to medicine men, several singers said. Some songs have no words, only vocables meant to convey feelings or emulate nature.

Songs and drums at the center of social events like powwows are different from those that are crucial instruments in spiritual ceremonies, for example for healing, and that often contain invocations to the Creator, said Anton Treuer, an Ojibwe language and culture professor at Bemidji State University.

Meant to mark the beginning of a new journey in life, the "traveling song" that the drum group wanted to sing at the Hinckley graduation includes the verse "when you no longer can walk, that is when I will carry you," said Jakob Wilson.

Nation Wright Sr. and his son Niigaanii sing on the drum during an open drum and dance night at Minneapolis American Indian Center, July 10, 2024, in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Nation Wright Sr. and his son Niigaanii sing on the drum during an open drum and dance night at Minneapolis American Indian Center, July 10, 2024, in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

That's why it was meant for the entire graduating class of about 70 students, not only the 21 Native seniors, added Kaiya Wilson, who trained as a back-up singer – and why relegating it to just another extracurricular activity hurt so deeply.

"This isn't just for fun, this is our culture," said Tim Taggart, who works at the Meshakwad Community Center – named after a local drum carrier born in the early 20th century – and helped organize the packed powwow held in the school's parking lot after graduation. "To just be culturally accepted, right? That's all everybody wants, just to be accepted."

The school had taken good steps in recent years, like founding the Native American Student Association, and many in the broader Hinckley community turned out to support Native students. So Taggart is optimistic that after this painful setback, bridges will be rebuilt.

And the drum, with all that it signifies about community and a connected way of life, will be brought back.

"Nothing can function without that heartbeat," said Taggart, whose earliest memory of the drum is being held as a toddler at a ceremony. "It's not just hearing the drums, but you're feeling it throughout your entire body, and that just connects you more with the spirit connection, more with God."

As dancers – from toddlers to adults in traditional shawls – circled the floor to the drum's beat in the Minneapolis center's gym, Cheryl Secola, program director for its Culture Language Arts Network, said it was heartwarming to see families bring children week after week, building connections even if they might not have enough resources to travel to the reservations.

On reservations too, many youths aren't being raised in cultural ways like singing, said Isabella Stensrud-Eubanks, 16, a junior and back-up singer on the Hinckley high school drum group.

"It's sad to say, but our culture is slowly dying out," she said, adding that several elders reached out to her and the Wilsons after the graduation controversy to teach them more, so the youth can themselves one day teach their traditions.

Mark Erickson was already about 20 when he went back to Red Lake, his father's band in northern Minnesota, to learn his people's songs.

"It's taken me a lifetime to learn and speak the language, and a lifetime to learn the songs," said Erickson, who only in his late 60s was awarded the distinction of culture carrier for Anishinaabe songs, a term for Ojibwe and other Indigenous groups in the Great Lakes region of Canada and the United States.

Believing that songs and drums are gifts from the Creator, he has been going to drum and dance sessions at the Minneapolis Center for more than a decade to share them, and the notions of honor and respect they carry.

"When you're out there dancing, you tend to forget your day-to-day struggles and get some relief, some joy and happiness," Erickson said.

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A guide to Native American candidates for Congress in 2024

Alaska U.S. Representative Mary Peltola shakes hands after entering a campaign event in Juneau, Alaska, on Aug. 3, 2024.
Alaska U.S. Representative Mary Peltola shakes hands after entering a campaign event in Juneau, Alaska, on Aug. 3, 2024.

Native Americans comprise 3.4% of the U.S. population but hold only 0.07% of all elected offices. In 2020, a record-breaking six Native Americans were elected to Congress. This year, nine Native Americans, including four incumbents, are vying for seats in the U.S. House of Representatives.

REPUBLICAN CANDIDATES:

Incumbent Josh Brecheen (Choctaw), Oklahoma, 2nd District

Brecheen is a member of the House Committee on Homeland Security and the House Budget Committee. He previously served in the Oklahoma Senate, where he limited himself to an eight-year term.

In an editorial for the McCarville Report following a 2023 trip to the U.S. border with Mexico, Brecheen cited nearly 4.7 million illegal crossings since 2020 and record levels of drug and human trafficking. He argues that policy changes, including halting border wall construction and revising federal immigration laws, have weakened border security.

Brecheen would like to complete the border wall and implement advanced security technology, including ground sensors, to improve surveillance.

He prioritizes a strong military and supports gun rights. He opposes abortion and defunding the police.

On financial issues, he pushes for budget cuts to reduce inflation and the national debt, and he says he is committed to protecting Social Security and Medicare.

Sharon Clahchischilliage (Navajo), New Mexico, 3rd District

Clahchischilliage currently serves on the New Mexico Public Education Commission and is running against the incumbent Democrat, Teresa Fernandez.

The district includes most of northern New Mexico and some of the eastern part of the state. Her district holds large fossil fuel and mineral reserves, which Clahchischilliage says are vital to economic development.

Former state Legislator Sharon Clahchischilliage, a Republican citizen of the Navajo Nation, is seen on Feb. 6, 2024, in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Former state Legislator Sharon Clahchischilliage, a Republican citizen of the Navajo Nation, is seen on Feb. 6, 2024, in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

“It’s time for Congress to hear a voice like mine, someone who has served our country, taught in the classroom, raised on the family farm and fought against the radicals in Santa Fe," she told the Albuquerque Journal in September. "From energy production to protecting the farmers, ranchers and herders, New Mexicans need someone who has lived their experiences, not tell them how to live.”

Clahchischilliage previously served in the state Legislature, supporting water rights and investments in infrastructure, education and economic development. During a candidate forum October 7 in Santa Fe, she said she does not believe in climate change.

“The earth is cleansing itself,” she said.

She opposes gun safety laws and believes the government should focus more on crime involving the use of guns rather than on the weapons themselves.

Incumbent Tom Cole (Chickasaw), Oklahoma, 4th District

Cole was elected to Congress in 2002 and is serving his 10th term. He is the longest-serving Native American lawmaker in House history.

In April, he became the first Native American to chair the House Appropriations Committee.

U.S. Representative Tom Cole, a Republican from Oklahoma who is the House Rules Committee chair, listens on Jan. 16, 2024, on Capitol Hill in Washington.
U.S. Representative Tom Cole, a Republican from Oklahoma who is the House Rules Committee chair, listens on Jan. 16, 2024, on Capitol Hill in Washington.

“States and the federal government must work with Native Americans to maintain the integrity of their heritage, culture, and rights,” Cole wrote in his weekly column shortly after being named. “At the same time, the federal government must uphold its constitutional oath to tribes to provide basic resources such as healthcare, education, infrastructure, and law enforcement, among many others, in Indian Country.”

He says veterans' services, Social Security reform and border security are his top priorities.

In the final days of his campaign, Cole led a bipartisan delegation to the Middle East to strengthen alliances and deepen collaboration on security challenges. In Israel, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and top officials briefed the group on current military operations and hostage rescue efforts.

Yvette Herrell (Cherokee), New Mexico, 2nd District

Herrell is challenging Democratic incumbent Gabe Vasquez in a district that includes a chunk of the southern border with Mexico.

A former U.S. representative for this district from 2021 to 2023, she favors restarting construction of the border wall and ending so-called "catch and release" policies that hold migrants in detention rather than allowing them into the community while they wait for their hearings.

New Mexico's Yvette Herrell, a Republican, speaks to voters at a party event in Hobbs, New Mexico, on May 24, 2018.
New Mexico's Yvette Herrell, a Republican, speaks to voters at a party event in Hobbs, New Mexico, on May 24, 2018.

Endorsed by the New Mexico Sheriffs’ Association and the Albuquerque Police Officers’ Association, she advocates "defending" rather than "defunding" police. Herrell strongly supports Second Amendment gun rights and has been endorsed by the National Rifle Association.

Herrell says she prioritizes economic growth through reduced regulation, lower energy prices and increased domestic oil and gas production, which, in part, could fund state education programs. She opposes abortion, with exceptions for rape, incest and the life of the mother.

DEMOCRATIC CANDIDATES

Dennis Baker (Muscogee of Euchee descent), Oklahoma, 1st District

Baker is an attorney and former FBI special agent whose platform focuses on worker rights. He supports raising the federal minimum wage, protecting and expanding labor unions and strengthening worker protections.

Baker says he was moved to run for political office after watching the attack on the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021.

Dennis Baker, a Muscogee citizen of Euchee descent and a Democrat, is running to represent Oklahoma's 1st Congressional district.
Dennis Baker, a Muscogee citizen of Euchee descent and a Democrat, is running to represent Oklahoma's 1st Congressional district.

“I saw the results of political extremism and said, you know, that's not my values. I don't think it's America's values,” he told Tulsa’s FOX23 News in July.

Baker opposes any state-level challenges to tribal authority. In 2022, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in Oklahoma v. Castro-Huerta that state governments have the authority to prosecute certain cases on tribal lands. Baker opposes any state-level challenges to the authority of 39 recognized tribes in Oklahoma.

Baker also supports reproductive rights and marriage equality.

Incumbent Sharice Davids (Ho-Chunk), Kansas, 3rd District

Davids was elected to represent Kansas' 3rd District in 2018, one of the first two Native American women to serve in Congress — the other was Deb Haaland (Pueblo of Laguna), representing New Mexico’s 1st District and currently U.S. secretary of the interior.

U.S. Representative Sharice Davids, a Democrat from Kansas, talks to supporters on Nov. 8, 2022, in Overland Park, Kansas.
U.S. Representative Sharice Davids, a Democrat from Kansas, talks to supporters on Nov. 8, 2022, in Overland Park, Kansas.

Davids has a background as a lawyer and former mixed martial arts fighter. Her career in Washington has focused on reducing living costs for families, promoting economic growth and advocating for government accountability.

She worked with Republican Representative Tom Cole of Oklahoma to reauthorize the Violence Against Women Act, which addressed domestic violence, sexual assault, dating violence and stalking She and Cole also introduced the Truth and Healing Commission on Indian Boarding School Policies Act of 2024, a bill that, if passed, would create a commission to investigate the federal Indian boarding school system and recommend actions to promote the healing of survivors and descendants.

In her district, Davids secured more than $1.5 billion in federal funds through the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law to improve the state’s infrastructure.

Incumbent Mary Peltola (Yup’ik), Alaska, District at Large

Peltola grew up in towns along the Kuskokwim River in western Alaska. She began her political career early. In 1998, at age 24, she won a seat in the state House of Representatives, the first Alaska Native to serve in that position. In 2022, she won Alaska’s only seat in the U.S. House, and just days after being sworn in, she introduced a bill establishing an office of food security within the Department of Veterans Affairs, which passed in the House with strong bipartisan support.

A strong advocate for Alaska Natives, her top concerns are subsistence fishing, food security, infrastructure and the impact of climate change.

She also worries about out-migration from her state.

"We are seeing this negative trend of our young people leaving and people not moving to Alaska," Peltola told Alaska Public Media on October 30. "I think that we really need to be talking more and finding more solutions on food security, on shipping costs, on energy costs."

Madison Horn (Cherokee), Oklahoma, 5th District

Horn is running for a seat in Congress for the second time. In 2022, she lost her bid for a U.S. Senate seat. This year, she is looking to unseat House Republican incumbent Stephanie Bice.

Madison Horn, a cybersecurity expert, is running to represent Oklahoma's 5th District in the U.S. House of Representatives.
Madison Horn, a cybersecurity expert, is running to represent Oklahoma's 5th District in the U.S. House of Representatives.

Her background is in cybersecurity and national security. She was a founding member of Siemens Energy’s global cyber practice and later CEO of Critical Fault, an Oklahoma-based cybersecurity firm whose logo is “paranoid with a purpose.”

In a recent post on X, Horn noted that China, Russia and Iran are advancing their cyber capabilities and building alliances to threaten U.S. security. Her key concerns include a digital Cold War with China over economic security and the risks of quantum computing to current encryption systems.

“We need technical expertise and with a strategic vision to craft modern policies that enhance American resilience against evolving threats,” she said.

Jonathan Nez (Navajo), Arizona, 2nd District

Nez began his political career as the vice president of the Shonto Chapter, one of the 110 local, semi-self-autonomous districts on the Navajo Nation, the largest Indian reservation in the U.S. Later, he served on the Navajo Nation council, and in 2015 was elected the Nation’s vice president and served until 2023.

Navajo Presidential candidate Jonathan Nez speaks during a Presidential Forum at Arizona State University, July 12, 2022, in Phoenix.
Navajo Presidential candidate Jonathan Nez speaks during a Presidential Forum at Arizona State University, July 12, 2022, in Phoenix.

He steered Navajos through the COVID-19 pandemic and organized a vaccination campaign through which 70% of Navajo citizens were vaccinated.

Nez says his policy priorities include protecting voting rights, advancing border security and immigration reform, ensuring water security and environmental sustainability in the face of climate change, and upholding reproductive rights and marriage equality as matters of individual autonomy.

US forest managers finalize land exchange with Native American tribe in Arizona

FILE - In this Sunday, June 1, 2014, photograph, cattle graze at the edge of the Verde River in Camp Verde, Ariz.
FILE - In this Sunday, June 1, 2014, photograph, cattle graze at the edge of the Verde River in Camp Verde, Ariz.

U.S. forest managers have finalized a land exchange with the Yavapai-Apache Nation that has been decades in the making and will significantly expand the size of the tribe's reservation in Arizona's Verde Valley, tribal leaders announced Tuesday.

As part of the arrangement, six parcels of private land acquired over the years by the tribe will be traded to the U.S. Forest Service in exchange for the tribe gaining ownership of 12.95 square kilometers of national forest land that is part of the tribe’s ancestral homelands. The tribe will host a signing ceremony next week to celebrate the exchange, which was first proposed in 1996.

“This is a critical step in our history and vital to the nation’s cultural and economic recovery and future prosperity,” Yavapai-Apache Chairwoman Tanya Lewis said in a post on the tribe's website.

Prescott National Forest Supervisor Sarah Clawson said in a statement that there had been many delays and changes to the proposal over the years, but the tribe and the Forest Service never lost sight of developing an agreement that would benefit both public and tribal lands.

The federal government has made strides over recent years to protect more lands held sacred by Native American tribes, to develop more arrangements for incorporating Indigenous knowledge into management of public lands and to streamline regulations for putting land into trust for tribes.

The Yavapai-Apache Nation is made up of two distinct groups of people — the Wipuhk’a’bah and the Dil’zhe’e. Their homelands spanned more than 41,440 square kilometers of what is now central Arizona. After the discovery of gold in the 1860s near Prescott, the federal government carved out only a fraction to establish a reservation. The inhabitants eventually were forced from the land, and it wasn't until the early 1900s that they were able to resettle a tiny portion of the area.

In the Verde Valley, the Yavapai-Apache Nation's reservation lands are currently comprised of less than 7.77 square kilometers near Camp Verde. The small land base hasn't been enough to develop economic opportunities or to meet housing needs, Lewis said, pointing to dozens of families who are on a waiting list for new homes.

Lewis said that in acknowledgment of the past removal of the Yavapai-Apache people from their homelands, the preamble to the tribal constitution recognizes that land acquisition is among the Yavapai-Apache Nation's responsibilities.

Aside from growing the reservation, the exchange will bolster efforts by federal land managers to protect the headwaters of the Verde River and ensure the historic Yavapai Ranch is not sold for development. The agreement also will improve recreational access to portions of four national forests in Arizona.

On Navajo Nation, push to electrify more homes on vast reservation 

A crew with the Navajo Tribal Utility Authority installs power poles, Oct. 9, 2024, on the Navajo Nation in Halchita, Utah.
A crew with the Navajo Tribal Utility Authority installs power poles, Oct. 9, 2024, on the Navajo Nation in Halchita, Utah.

After a five-year wait, Lorraine Black and Ricky Gillis heard the rumblings of an electrical crew reach their home on the sprawling Navajo Nation.

In five days' time, their home would be connected to the power grid, replacing their reliance on a few solar panels and propane lanterns. No longer would the CPAP machine Gillis uses for sleep apnea or his home heart monitor transmitting information to doctors 400 miles away face interruptions due to intermittent power. It also means Black and Gillis can now use more than a few appliances — such as a fridge, a TV, and an evaporative cooling unit — at the same time.

"We're one of the luckiest people who get to get electric," Gillis said.

Lorraine Black sits inside her kitchen, Oct. 9, 2024, on the Navajo Nation in Halchita, Utah.
Lorraine Black sits inside her kitchen, Oct. 9, 2024, on the Navajo Nation in Halchita, Utah.

Many Navajo families still live without running water and electricity, a product of historic neglect and the struggle to get services to far-flung homes on the 70,000-square-kilometer (27,000-square-mile) Native American reservation that lies in parts of Arizona, New Mexico and Utah. Some rely on solar panels or generators, which can be patchy, and others have no electricity whatsoever.

Gillis and Black filed an application to connect their home back in 2019. But when the coronavirus pandemic started ravaging the tribe and everything besides essential services was shut down on the reservation, it further stalled the process.

Their wait highlights the persistent challenges in electrifying every Navajo home, even with recent injections of federal money for tribal infrastructure and services and as extreme heat in the Southwest intensified by climate change adds to the urgency.

"We are a part of America that a lot of the time feels kind of left out," said Vircynthia Charley, district manager at the Navajo Tribal Utility Authority, a non-for-profit utility that provides electric, water, wastewater, natural gas and solar energy services.

For years, the Navajo Tribal Utility Authority has worked to get more Navajo homes connected to the grid faster. Under a program called Light Up Navajo, which uses a mix of private and public funding, outside utilities from across the U.S. send electric crews to help connect homes and extend power lines.

Ricky Gillis collects water for use in a evaporative air cooling unit, Oct. 9, 2024, at his home on the Navajo Nation in Halchita, Utah.
Ricky Gillis collects water for use in a evaporative air cooling unit, Oct. 9, 2024, at his home on the Navajo Nation in Halchita, Utah.

But installing power on the reservation roughly the size of West Virginia is time-consuming and expensive due to its rugged geography and the vast distances between homes. Drilling for power poles there can take several hours because of underground rock deposits while some homes near Monument Valley must have power lines installed underground to meet strict regulations around development in the area.

About 32% of Navajo homes still have no electricity. Connecting the remaining 10,400 homes on the reservation would cost $416 million, said Deenise Becenti, government and public affairs manager at the utility.

This year, Light Up Navajo connected 170 more families to the grid. Since the program started in 2019, 882 Navajo families have had their homes electrified. If the program stays funded, Becenti said it could take another 26 years to connect every home on the reservation.

A crew with the Navajo Tribal Utility Authority installs power poles for a home, at top right, Oct. 9, 2024, on the Navajo Nation in Halchita, Utah.
A crew with the Navajo Tribal Utility Authority installs power poles for a home, at top right, Oct. 9, 2024, on the Navajo Nation in Halchita, Utah.

Those that get connected immediately reap the benefits.

Until this month, Black and Gillis' solar panels that the utility installed a few years ago would last about two to three days before their battery drained in cloudy weather. It would take another two days to recharge.

"You had to really watch the watts and whatever you're using on a cloudy day," Gillis said.

Then a volunteer power crew from Colorado helped install 14 power poles while the tribal utility authority drilled holes six feet deep in which the poles would sit. The crew then ran a wire about a mile down a red sand road from the main power line to the couple's home.

"The lights are brighter," Black remarked after her home was connected.

In recent years, significantly more federal money has been allocated for tribes to improve infrastructure on reservations, including $32 billion from the American Rescue Plan Act of 2021 — of which Navajo Nation received $112 million for electric connections. The Navajo tribal utility also received $17 million through the Biden administration's climate law, known as the Inflation Reduction Act, to connect families to the electric grid. But it can be slow to see the effects of that money on the ground due to bureaucracy and logistics.

Ryan Smith, left, a foreman with the Navajo Tribal Utility Authority, checks the depth of a power pole during construction, Oct. 9, 2024, on the Navajo Nation in Halchita, Utah.
Ryan Smith, left, a foreman with the Navajo Tribal Utility Authority, checks the depth of a power pole during construction, Oct. 9, 2024, on the Navajo Nation in Halchita, Utah.

Next spring, the tribal utility authority hopes to connect another 150 homes, including the home of Priscilla and Leo Dan.

For the couple, having grid electricity at their home near Navajo Mountain in Arizona would end a nearly 12-year wait. They currently live in a recreational vehicle elsewhere closer to their jobs but have worked on their home on the reservation for years. With power there, they could spend more time where Priscilla grew up and where her dad still lives.

It would make life simpler, Priscilla said. "Because otherwise, everything, it seems like, takes twice as long to do."

Native Americans react to Biden apology as a good ‘first step’

President Joe Biden and Gila River Indian Community Governor Stephen Roe Lewis are pictured at the Gila Crossing Community School, Oct. 25, 2024, in Laveen, Ariz.
President Joe Biden and Gila River Indian Community Governor Stephen Roe Lewis are pictured at the Gila Crossing Community School, Oct. 25, 2024, in Laveen, Ariz.

President Joe Biden visited the Gila River Indian Community in Arizona on Friday to deliver a long-awaited official apology to Native Americans for the federal boarding school system that severed the family, tribal and cultural ties of thousands of Indian children over multiple generations.

“I say this with all sincerity: This, to me, is one the most consequential things I've ever had an opportunity to do in my whole career as president of the United States,” Biden said.

He described how Native children were “stolen, taken away to places they didn't know by people they'd never met who spoke a language they had never heard,” he said.

“Children would arrive at school, their clothes taken off, their hair that they were told [was] sacred was chopped off, their names literally erased and replaced by a number or an English name,” he continued, “emotionally, physically and sexually abused, forced into hard labor, some put up for adoption without the consent of their birth parents, some left for dead in unmarked graves.”

When the time came to apologize, Biden shouted the words, “I formally apologize!”

Mixed reactions

In 2021, Interior Secretary Deb Haaland launched an investigation into federal and federally funded Indian boarding schools. The investigation confirmed that more than 18,600 Native American, Native Alaskan and Native Hawaiian children were forced to attend residential schools; 1,000 died during their enrollment.

The report recommended the U.S. government formally acknowledge and apologize for its role in the system and take steps to help survivors heal from its effects.

VOA spoke with Christine Diindiisi McCleave, a citizen of the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa Indians in North Dakota and former CEO of the National Native American Boarding School Healing Coalition (NABS), which collaborated with the Interior investigation.

“I think politically it is extremely significant that Biden traveled to tribal lands in Gila River to deliver the apology publicly, not bury it in a defense appropriations bill,” she said, referencing a 2009 defense spending bill that acknowledged “years of official depredations, ill-conceived policies and the breaking of covenants” and apologized for instances of “violence, maltreatment and neglect.”

A U.S. apology for historic wrongs against Native Americans was embedded deep within a defense spending bill passed December 19, 2009.
A U.S. apology for historic wrongs against Native Americans was embedded deep within a defense spending bill passed December 19, 2009.

“However, as a survivor, as somebody who worked for many years to make progress on this issue, yes, we need the acknowledgment, but we also need actions to follow that up,” she said.

Friday’s apology came late in Biden’s term. McCleave said she worried that a Republican win in the November 5 presidential vote could reverse the gains for tribes made during the Biden-Harris administration.

“I hope they pass the Truth and Healing Commission bill before the new term begins,” she said.

The bipartisan Truth and Healing Commission on Indian Boarding School Policies Act, currently making its way through Congress, would create a commission to investigate the boarding school system and recommend action to promote healing.

U.S. Department of the Interior 1911 advertisement offering Indian Land for Sale.
U.S. Department of the Interior 1911 advertisement offering Indian Land for Sale.

Schools only part of the story

On Friday, Biden summarized his investments in Indian Country, which include $32 billion from the American Rescue Plan, $13 billion to support improvements in tribal infrastructure and $700 million from the Inflation Reduction Act to combat the effects of climate change.

He did not, however, address growing calls from Native communities for the return of historic lands, a campaign dubbed “Land Back.”

Brenda J. Child, a citizen of the Red Lake Band of Chippewa in Minnesota, is a professor of American studies at the University of Minnesota who has written extensively about Indian boarding schools from the perspective of Indigenous Americans.

“Boarding schools were about dispossessing Indian people of their lands,” she said, “which went hand in hand with the complex policy called the General Allotment Act of 1887, which helped break up the traditional systems of land tenure.”

Also known as the Dawes Act, it divided Native Americans’ communal tribal lands into individual plots that were doled out to families and individuals. The leftover land – about 36 million hectares (90 million acres) – was opened up for sale to non-Native settlers, passing out of Indian control.

“So, what do we do now?” Child asked. “Apologies are nice, but if you don't change the behavior, we're still stuck. Now it's time to return some of that land that we lost.”

Watch Biden’s entire speech below:

One of the last Navajo Code Talkers from World War II dies at 107

A visitor looks up at the Navajo Code Talkers Memorial on Veterans Day, Nov. 11, 2020, in Phoenix, Arizona. John Kinsel Sr., one of the last remaining Navajo Code Talkers who transmitted messages during World War II based on the tribe's native language, has died at 107. 
A visitor looks up at the Navajo Code Talkers Memorial on Veterans Day, Nov. 11, 2020, in Phoenix, Arizona. John Kinsel Sr., one of the last remaining Navajo Code Talkers who transmitted messages during World War II based on the tribe's native language, has died at 107. 

John Kinsel Sr., one of the last remaining Navajo Code Talkers who transmitted messages during World War II based on the tribe's native language, has died. He was 107.

Navajo Nation officials in Window Rock announced Kinsel's death on Saturday.

Tribal President Buu Nygren has ordered all flags on the reservation to be flown at half-staff until Oct. 27 at sunset to honor Kinsel.

"Mr. Kinsel was a Marine who bravely and selflessly fought for all of us in the most terrifying circumstances with the greatest responsibility as a Navajo Code Talker," Nygren said in a statement Sunday.

With Kinsel's death, only two original Navajo Code Talkers are still alive: Former Navajo Chairman Peter MacDonald and Thomas H. Begay.

Hundreds of Navajos were recruited by the Marines to serve as Code Talkers during the war, transmitting messages based on their then-unwritten native language.

They confounded Japanese military cryptologists during World War II and participated in all assaults the Marines led in the Pacific from 1942 to 1945, including at Guadalcanal, Tarawa, Peleliu and Iwo Jima.

The Code Talkers sent thousands of messages without error on Japanese troop movements, battlefield tactics and other communications crucial to the war's ultimate outcome.

Kinsel was born in Cove, Arizona, and lived in the Navajo community of Lukachukai.

He enlisted in the Marines in 1942 and became an elite Code Talker, serving with the 9th Marine Regiment and the 3rd Marine Division during the Battle of Iwo Jima.

President Ronald Reagan established Navajo Code Talkers Day in 1982 and the Aug. 14 holiday honors all the tribes associated with the war effort.

The day is an Arizona state holiday and Navajo Nation holiday on the vast reservation that occupies portions of northeastern Arizona, northwestern New Mexico and southeastern Utah.

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