Chapter 19: Stereotypes and Bigotry

There is much accumulated anger in America’s Indians, which is understandable, and often it is vented on whoever is nearby, usually another Indian. This comes out in tribal politics, where accusations are nasty and usually based on nothing more than suspicion and envy. This is a serious problem for a society based on sharing, where there is little left to share and many live on crumbs from the whiteman’s table.
If a tribal leader is seen with a new car or pickup truck, then obviously that person gave away some tribal property to “the whiteman” in an under the counter deal. The saying is that the person accepted “beads” from the whiteman, as in the story of Manhattan Island that was sold for a few dollars worth of trinkets.
In tribal politics, if you support the majority party you are a tool of BIA, and cooperate in selling out the Indian land and heritage for pennies on the dollar. If you support the minority, you are a fool who is keeping others away from the few benefits BIA allows for cooperation. If you remain aloof from the battle you lack guts and are a fence-straddler.
Those who are born again Christians look down on their heathen relatives who remain true to their religious heritage, and call them the Devil’s Children. Traditional Indians in turn see Christian Indians as people who sell their integrity for free food and the whiteman’s approval.
Indians are not allowed to fully govern themselves and lack the political power to control their own destiny. When you add grinding poverty, relentless greed from outside to exploit the land, and bigots who won’t allow Indians to be Indian, you begin to understand the problems that make Indians into victims struggling for life.
It is necessary to report to you that at least in Montana and in Southern California, bigotry is still alive in the dominant Caucasian society. I frequently hear Afro-American spoken of with the N-word which I avoid repeating. The term for Indians takes two words; they are often called drunken Indians. Women as a group receive negative comments. If I listened more carefully, I’m sure other identifiable groups are also treated as “things” and negative and derogatory words are reserved for them.
January 19, 1989 was my 58th birthday, and I was invited to a party. When I heard both the N-word and “drunken Indian” used in almost the same sentence, I said I was leaving, got up and left the party as a form of protest. The protest was not appreciated but it was noticed.
If you and I do not confront words of hate, then they continue unabated and gain strength (in dark clouds) simply because we let them go unchallenged. To confront can make you unpopular, and you also become a target for hate, but you must confront if you hope to change the attitudes that feed hatred.
Speaking up for Afro-Americans, or for Indians, or for women, suddenly I am a communist, an Afro-American lover, an Indian lover, and you name it. In truth I am not a communist, but yes I do love Afro Americans, Indians, women, white Anglo Saxon Protestants and who ever else happens to be in the immediate vicinity.
There is no shame in being included in some group or class, and it’s great to have pride in that group. The problem comes when you claim that your group has more of a right to exist or should be dominant over some other group or class. White pride, Black pride, and Red pride are great. White power, Black power and Red power, at the expense of others, are dead wrong. All groups have their particular features of nobility, and all have an equal right to exist.
There are, or more correctly were, several hundred distinct groups of native Americans who share the name Indian. The name itself was a mistake that was intended for citizens of India, but it stuck and is used to group diverse people into a single category. It is a handy title even though there is nothing accurate about it. Most of these groups have disappeared from the face of the earth forever, but a few have survived against all odds and remain with us yet.
The word Indian is a stereotype to describe some theoretical people that do not exist. Indians respond to the title, but prefer to be called by a specific tribal name such as Crow or Sioux, because their tribal groupings have distinct differences. Stereotypes are used to simplify that which is complex and they fill a need. The typical Indian that the name most often describes is the plains Indian, during the period of the buffalo and at the time of the Indian wars.
There was much to be admired in the plains Indian. An image is created of strength and daring, nobility of character, great honesty and respect for God and nature. I am not above using that image where it applies and where it does not belittle the Indian people themselves. There is truth in that image, and much about Indians is noble.
The Crow language has no word for “please.” My language instructor, Euna Rose He Does It, explains that the reason for this is very simple. Let me tell you how she explained the absence of “please” in Crow.
While we had the buffalo, all our needs were met. If a person was lacking some necessity, he or she would simply ask a neighbor, and the thing was freely given. “Please” is a begging word, needed in a society where things are valued more than people.
Indians themselves are most aware of their “noble” image, and are not above using it to advantage. They have few advantages in dealing with the dominant power structure, and I do not object to their attempt to manipulate whites when appropriate. Indians see the humor and irony of putting on their feathers and bells for the benefit of the cameras, and at times you can be sure they resent the curiosity of tourists who want to see a “real-live Indian.”
The stereotype has most often been used in a negative way. The first step in “putting down” any group is to treat them as things rather than as individual humans. You can create your own list of words used for various minorities, but for Indians the words often used are savage, heathen, dirty, drunken, lazy and the like.
There is always an element of truth in a stereotype. There are drunken Indians as well as drunken Caucasians. The problem is that a negative example is expanded to include all in the group, and the negative label justifies doing harm to a less than human, faceless “them.” Hitler used this technique on the Jews, and in the United States we used it (and still use it) against blacks, Indians and other minorities.
Often I hear Indians as a group spoken of as “drunken Indians.” Let me introduce you to some “real live” Indian people I know.
Janine Pease Pretty On Top:
I had met Janine, the President of Little Big Horn College, on several occasions. (There was an article about her and the College in the August, 1988 Life magazine.) I made an attempt earlier to raise funds for the College from private sources, with no luck. If this is the first time you have heard of Janine, I doubt it will be the last, because Janine is striking as a person, and her status as a celebrity is rapidly growing on both the national and international scene.
I am fortunate to count Janine as a friend, and over a period of time her family has come to be within that group I am relatively intimate with and consider part of my larger circle, and certainly I am a personal friend of her father and mother and several other family members. Janine speaks of herself as an educator, she is that and more.
It is a grave error to classify this striking woman as a “living doll” and you’ll be in big trouble with Janine if you call her an “Indian Princess,” even with good intentions. Both terms classify a woman as simply a beautiful object, and Janine has a much larger goal in life than promoting her personal beauty. She is an educator who takes a powerful stand when it comes to Indian civil rights, and the rights of all minorities. In 1994 she received her Ph.D. degree, and had been presented earlier with three honorary doctorates in recognition of her accomplishments.
The world at large is destined to hear more from and about Janine Pease Pretty On Top, and well it should, because she speaks honest words and displays a strong sense of love and respect for all humankind. Personal beauty is a trifle, a passing thing. Rather than beautiful, Janine is magnificent!
Marlon Passes:
Marlon Passes is a Crow man who worked in the same department with me at BIA in Billings. Marlon is in the last years of his youth, not yet an Elder so I’d guess his age is around thirty five. Marlon is not tall, but he is powerful like a wrestler with strong arms and legs, and a thick neck and trunk.
Marlon lives on the reservation, and each day commutes in a car-pool for the 150 mile round trip to work. He has a wife and children, and works on farming chores and irrigation after his long day of work and commuting. Marlon likes horses, and at local rodeos serves as a pick-up man to rescue riders from the backs of bucking horses.
Seven days a week, regardless of Montana winters and summer heat, Marlon gets up before dawn. He goes outside, raises his arms and faces East, looks up to the heavens and prays. Marlon was raised in Catholic schools yet is filled with Crow tradition so I don’t know what name or language he uses when he speaks to God. I do know that Marlon is a religious man.
Once or twice Marlon and I sat and drank a beer together after work. I don’t drink very much or very often, and I’ve never seen Marlon overdo it. His real name, in Crow, translates in English to “Nice Young Man,” which I believe is a good fit.
Marlon and I have the promise of a nice day together in the future. He has offered to guide me through some of the lovely land in Crow Country that is closed to the public, and will have me to his home for a good meal. Marlon, if I am able to return to Montana (written during one of my escapes to California) you can be sure I’ll accept that invitation.
If people have a need to call this devout man a good for nothing drunken Indian, then they might as well call me the same, because I tell you that Marlon is my brother.
Burton Pretty on Top:
I first met Burton Pretty On Top (a brother of John Pretty On Top, Janine’s husband) when he lived in Billings, and for twenty years he drove a local delivery truck. When customers say “hey Chief, hurry up with those boxes” Burton turns the insult into a joke, and keeps his job working in the white world. His English last name is a tribute to the fine headdress of an ancestor.
Like many Crow men and women, Burton is a good speaker. When there is some threat to the environment with hearings and public meetings, you can be sure Burton will be there to say a few words in favor of conservation and preservation. Burton is a good looking “hunk’ as the teenagers say, and the single women are restless in his presence, but Burton keeps his distance.
One day Burton heard an unusual bark from a dog, and got out of his truck to investigate. The large dog was tied with a chain, and a toddler had come too close. In his excitement the dog ran in circles, and the chain had wrapped around the child’s neck. The dog was frightened, and jerked at the chain trying to get free, snarling at anyone who tried to approach. Other people at the scene were unable to approach the dog and looked on in panic as the child turned blue.
Burton says animals understand Crow better than English, so he spoke to the dog in the Crow language, and the dog became calm. He was able to unfasten the chain from the dog so that the child could breathe again.
Is there some magic here; is it true that an Indian can use ancient words to speak to an animal? The world is full of wonders, and Burton is known for goodness and honesty.
In my own experience from carrying the Eagle whistle, even in crowded California there is always a hawk or an Eagle that appears in the sky overhead. A respected Indian Priest put his hands on my whistle. He said it would blow away evil, and I believe it has that power. So, who am I to disbelieve Burton. If you have a need to call him a good for nothing drunken Indian, then you must call me the same because Burton will tell you I am his Uncle.
Danny Rowe:
Danny Rowe was a friend of mine in Billings, who later moved to another state for post-graduate college work. Dan is “once a Marine always a Marine.” Dan is also Assiniboine, but winces when he is called Indian, because he has a need to escape the degrading memories of childhood.
I know Dan’s wife Kathy who is a delight, and their daughter Sheila. Dan and his family contributed much to the Billings community, and I am proud to call them friends. At present Dan is working towards a doctoral degree “back East.”
Dan is a mixture of white blood and Assiniboine, and was “raised Indian” on the Fort Peck reservation near Poplar, Montana. His natural parents were sunk in poverty and despair, so he was raised by a grandmother. He has a childhood memory of gathering fruits and berries, and a broad wisdom about wild things and the outdoors.
As a six year old, he was the sole provider of food for younger children for he had learned to scavenge in the white man’s garbage. Dan’s memories of being Indian include the smell of garbage pails behind restaurants where the white tourists had enough money to waste food, leaving scraps on their plates that he could sort through at night. He carried the garbage home to cook an Indian stew.
Dan joined me one afternoon as my guest at the Prior Sundance. When I introduced Dan to a Crow Elder, I mentioned Dan’s Indian heritage to provide a point of contact, but Dan would rather escape into the white world and abandon things Indian.
There is pride in having been a Marine, but not much joy in the memory of garbage meals. You be the one to tell Danny Rowe that Indians lack merit through birth, and garbage is good enough. Dan is my friend, and I tell you that Indian children don’t deserve garbage stew.