Some years ago, I was studying both the Latin and English versions of the Vatican document Inter Caetera, dated May 4, 1493, and came across the following sentence: “We trust in Him from whom empires, and governments, and all good things proceed.” In Latin it reads: “…in Illo a quo i
What does it mean to be an American Indian? For some, the answer is simple: one is American Indian if they possess a specific degree of Indian blood. This standard definition originates in the federal government’s enactment of blood quantum law.
In my historical research I sometimes come across items of interest that I really can’t challenge, but that I don’t want to believe because they may tarnish my image or opinion of some great hero of mine.
We've all heard references to the 'special rights' of American Indians. Sometimes, it's an affirmation of Indian nationhood; other times, it's an attack on Indian sovereignty.
English is a labyrinth language. It has buried within it many hidden or little noticed meanings that reveal deeper insights about all kinds of things that folks tend to take for granted.
For many thousands of years, our indigenous ancestors lived free and independent of Christian European domination.
The debt ceiling negotiations are deep underground. While there’s plenty of action on the surface—posturing, mostly—there are also quiet talks about both temporary and real solutions.
Of late, left leaning groups have raised concerns about a prayer meeting convened by Texas Governor Rick Perry and hosted by the American Family Association.
It seemed like a simple point to make, and the right time to make it.
I often think about the big-picture ideas that would help tribal governments address the small-picture details more efficiently.
This week, nearly 40 passengers (unarmed peace activists and media people) will board The Audacity of Hope, a U.S. flagged boat, which will set sail from Greece and join the international Freedom Flotilla II.
One seldom has an opportunity to converse with one of the brethren of the U.S. Supreme Court, as I did on August 31, 2006.
"What is past and cannot be prevented should not be grieved for."
I read that quote on a beautiful card I bought in the gift shop of the Acoma Pueblo’s fine museum in New Mexico.