Historically, Native nations were bounded but inclusive socio-cultural communities that prided themselves on maintaining distinctive religious-cultural identities while also incorporating--whether through force or invitation--individuals from other indigenous, rac
In Response to Lynn Armitage’s ICTMN article, “Domestic Violence: Careful, the Kids Are Watching”:
In June of this year, President Barack Obama and the First Lady visited the Standing Rock Sioux Indian Reservation in North Dakota. This was ya historic visit.
In 2011 Mary Fallin assumed office as Governor of the Oklahoma and, like it or not, the events that have followed exemplify some of the worst atrocities against Native Americans in any recent memory.
Hundreds of articles have been published and thousands of comments have been shared online. Tribes around the country have galvanized their support.
Thirty-five years ago today, Congress enacted groundbreaking legislation, the impact of which has been arguably more profound than any other piece of federal Indian law in the modern era. On November 8, 1978, the Indian Child Welfare Act, otherwise known as ICWA, became law.
Much ado is made of our divisions and differences, and this is so successful because the narrative of our sameness is foundational to colonial policies.
It is October 10, 2013. I just listened to Dusten Brown’s press conference. Listening to his voice reminded me of the accounts I heard from elders in tribal communities I have traveled to. Dusten with his grief stricken heart has let his baby go for her sake, not for his own.
The recent cases of Baby Veronica and Baby Desaray make me fear for young adoptive children, especially those of color. The similarities of these two cases, including the same adoption agency attorney in both, demand a closer look into these children’s civil rights.
The old Native American walks slowly but he walks for at least two hours every day. If you ask the old man his name, he will look at you with his dark brown eyes. He will smile. And he will tell you it is Marlon. The Spirits know him by a different name.
The voice on the other end had an ominous sense of urgency. He opened with, “We're running. I can't take this shit anymore.” As per our last conversation I knew that he was talking about running for council, but “this shit” could mean any number of things these days.
Click here to read part 1 by Dina Gilio-Whitaker.
A note from Ray Cook, ICTMN Opinions Editor: The political and legal ramifications of the Baby Veronica case have, in broad strokes, done two things.
I mean you no harm. If I meant you harm, I would start by using your name. Every literate Cherokee knows your name. At the time before the Trail of Tears, the Cherokee Nation had a higher literacy rate than the white settlers and gold seekers who coveted the Cherokee homelands.