A repetitious pattern may be repeated to the point of being boring or tiring. Yet, obviously, not every pattern of repetition is tedious.
“To many men the sense of domination is sweet...” writes Leonard Barnes in his book Empire or Democracy (1939).
I recently came across the book Writing the Social Text: Poetics and Politics in Social Science Discourse (New York: Aldine de Gruyter, 1992), edited by Richard H. Brown.
When the jury and judges awarded Elizabeth Fenn the 2015 Pulitzer Prize in History for her book, Encounters at the Heart of the World: A History of the Mandan People, their citation described the book as "an engr
Our campaign to end the use of Native American nicknames and mascots by Maine’s public schools has reached the last community, Skowhegan, still clinging to the tenets protected by acceptable institutional racism.
In his book Captives of Sovereignty (2010), Jonathon Havercroft points out that a number of contemporary political philosophers (Hannah Arendt, Michel Foucault, Giorgio Agamben, and Michae
Although the United States has forcibly imposed patterns of domination on the original Native nations of this continent, it is typical to see the courts of the United States and most legal scholars use the words “conquest,” “conqueror,” and “conquering” and not th
Professor Colin Calloway's new book, The Victory With No Name, chronicles how a confederation of Native nations defeated the U.S.
As my plane winged its way to Cleveland last week, to give a library talk in praise of Maine Penobscot Indian Louis Sockalexis and against the Cleveland Indians’ continuing use of Chief Wahoo, I began imagining myself as being something like the Jimmy Stewart character in “Mr.
I started to read S.C. Gwynne's book, Empire of the Summer Moon, about Quanah Parker and the U.S. war against the Comanche, but I don't know if I'll finish it.
Buffalo Shout, Salmon Cry (Herald Press) offers an extraordinary challenge to the torturous history and continuing damage of Christian colonialism in North America.
Imagine a couple of novels that contain a deep discernment that our existence as Original Nations and Peoples extends back to the beginning of time, through our oral histories and our oral traditions.
My Nez Perce name is Sik-no-wit-Tats which means “Good Speaker,” which was given to me by my tribal elders as a nod that I am to be a “voice” for our people.
“Oh Uncle Adrian, I am in the reservation of my mind,” is a passage from Adrian C. Louis’s literary work, Elegy for the Forgotten Oldsmobile. It is the same one line written by a different author and in a different context which affirms a biography of oppression in living on an Indian reservation; and the intellectual and emotional understanding that fuses together the immense communicative power of language. For Sherman Alexie, a Spokane/Coeur d'Alene Indian, who grew up destitute where literary dreams were more than beyond reach, Louis’ passage opened his eyes to the potential of writing. Alexie soon went on to write several novels, for example: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, War Dance, First Indian on the Moon, Indian Killer; and and Smoke Signals (1998), a critically acclaimed movie based on one of Alexie’s short stories and for which he co-wrote the screenplay Smoke Signals (1998), a critically acclaimed movie based on one of Alexie’s short stories. Sherman Alexie’s writing has cleared a mental, emotional and spiritual path for others wanting to ‘fancy dance’ a new Indian reality though writing.
For some however, moving beyond reservation borders is more difficult — a place where poverty, despair and alcoholism have often shaped the lives of many Native Americans living on reservations. But what about Indians who grew up off reservations with desires of wanting to write a different experience?
In a series of e-mails Alexei Auld, Pamunkey-Tauxenant, Graduate, Columbia School of Law, and a Sundance Native Writing alum whose work has been featured in E! True Hollywood Story, Fondo Del Sol, and numerous curated festivals and publications has recently penned a must-read book titled Tonto Canto Pocahontas to answer my inquiry.
Auld asserts, “It is difficult, but as human beings, we cope in different ways. It was easier for me to move beyond the 'reservation mind' because I never grew up on one. And I'm not making a judgment, it's just my reality.” He continues, “I have always participated in the culture. My grandmother was in an arranged marriage with my grandfather to 'keep the blood strong'. My cousin, who was the Chief's brother, married my wife and I. I was a member of a Lumbee Indian church in Baltimore (they were originally from North Carolina, so they were experiencing the whole off-Rez urban experience as well). I worked the powwow circuit with my parents until I left for law school in NYC. Served as president of Columbia Law's Native American Law Students Association. Organized the first unity pow wow between Columbia's undergraduate and graduate Native American student organizations.”