The pressing issue was land. In the post-Civil War years, Black-freedom advocates such as Edward P. McCabe proposed flooding Indian Territory with Black towns, establishing the demographic foothold for a future Black-majority state. As the chronicler A. G. Stacey wrote at the time, “There is a secret political society in existence . . . which is based upon the principles of Negro advancement, mentally and morally, and the future control of Oklahoma whenever it shall become a state.” The creators of such plans were blind to the concerns of Indians and did not hesitate to align Black and white settlers against them. Frederick Douglass assured a crowd in 1869, “The negro is more like the white man than the Indian, in his tastes and tendencies, and disposition to accept civilization.” Where the Indian “rejects our civilization,” he went on, “it is not so with the negro. He loves you and remains with you, under all circumstances, in slavery and in freedom.”
Gayle is not wrong to name Claude Cox and Alexander Posey as anti-Black racists. The more interesting question, however, is how their racism was shaped by concerns for their people, their polities, and their dwindling land. At the Sequoyah Constitutional Convention of 1905, several tribes sought to establish an Indian state from Indian Territory, bringing a petition to Congress that was swiftly rejected. The secretary to that convention was Posey, a complicated, sometimes contradictory thinker who was devoted to the politics and the aspirations of his tribe. To see his racism clearly is to see a desperate collision between the ambitions of Black and Native peoples.
....
When it comes to belonging, two cultural problems intertwine. Black Creek claims to Creek identity—at least in Gayle’s account—tend to be genealogical, full of blood essentialisms, and sometimes disengaged from the ongoing vitality of Muscogee culture. Figures such as Jake Simmons, Jr., for instance, seem to care most about leveraging Black success out of Native citizenship, leasing and selling Creek land to corporations. At the same time, the historically rooted culture of Muscogee anti-Black racism is not merely abhorrent but unsustainable, offering no path to the future for anyone involved. When it comes to citizenship, two political problems intertwine. Native sovereignty, in the American context, rests upon the legal authority of treaties. So, too, do Black rights to Native membership. The various arguments about Native identity bounce between cultural ties and political claims, all exuding moral authority but none fully authoritative. In this sense, one of Gayle’s maxims proves compelling: Black Creek stories, rich with both the subtleties and the crudenesses of America’s racial history, force us all to contemplate new forms of reckoning.
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Apache and Proud – Native American Indian Pride T-Shirt
Introducing the "Apache and Proud – Native American Indian Pride T-Shirt" — a powerful and meaningful garment that celebrates the rich heritage and resilience of the Apache people. This t-shirt combines cultural pride and style, allowing you to showcase your connection to Native American Indian traditions in a bold and fashionable way.
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*sigh*
I'm seeing variations of this meme around again, so to today's (un)lucky 10000:
the "inside you there are two wolves" meme is racist. full stop. it was invented by a Christian pastor in the late 70s and attributed to the Cherokee nation, despite being completely made up. every native american / indigenous page I've ever followed denounces it as made up and racist, using their imagery to sound mystical and wise while ignoring the people themselves.
please consider using another format. try to use your guilt productively: I'm not calling you out, this is aimed at educating. You can't erase not knowing in the past, but you can elect to 1) not reblog these in the future, 2) delete any that are easy to delete, 3) help to spread education by following native people's accounts and news so that you hear this from them, not me.
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Article Link
"Minnetonka first started selling its “Thunderbird” moccasins in 1965. Now, for the first time, they’ve been redesigned by a Native American designer.
It’s one step in the company’s larger work to deal with its history of cultural appropriation. The Minneapolis-based company launched in the 1940s as a small business making souvenirs for roadside gift shops in the region—including Native American-inspired moccasins, though the business wasn��t started or run by Native Americans. The moccasins soon became its biggest seller.
[Photo: Minnetonka]
Adrienne Benjamin, an Anishanaabe artist and community activist who became the company’s “reconciliation advisor,” was initially reluctant when a tribal elder approached her about meeting with the company. Other activists had dismissed the idea that the company would do the work to truly transform. But Benjamin agreed to the meeting, and the conversation convinced her to move forward.
“I sensed a genuine commitment to positive change,” she says. “They had really done their homework as far as understanding and acknowledging the wrong and the appropriation. I think they knew for a long time that things needed to get better, and they just weren’t sure what a first step was.”
Pictured: Lucie Skjefte and son Animikii [Photo: Minnetonka]
In 2020, Minnetonka publicly apologized “for having benefited from selling Native-inspired designs without directly honoring Native culture or communities.” It also said that it was actively recruiting Native Americans to work at the company, reexamining its branding, looking for Native-owned businesses to partner with, continuing to support Native American nonprofits, and that it planned to collaborate with Native American artists and designers.
Benjamin partnered with the company on the first collaboration, a collection of hand-beaded hats, and then recruited the Minneapolis-based designer Lucie Skjefte, a citizen of the Red Lake Nation, who designed the beadwork for another moccasin style and a pair of slippers for the brand. Skjefte says that she felt comfortable working with the company knowing that it had already done work with Benjamin on reconciliation. And she wasn’t a stranger to the brand. “Our grandmothers and our mothers would always look for moccasins in a clutch kind of situation where they didn’t have a pair ready and available to make on their own—then they would buy Minnetonka mocs and walk into a traditional pow wow and wear them,” she says. Her mother, she says, who passed away in 2019, would have been “immensely proud” that Skjefte’s design work was part of the moccasins—and on the new version of the Thunderbird moccasin, one of the company’s top-selling styles.
[Photo: Minnetonka]
“I started thinking about all of those stories, and what resonated with me visually,” Skjefte says. The redesign, she says, is much more detailed and authentic than the previous version. “Through the redesign and beading process, we are actively reclaiming and reconnecting our Animikii or Thunderbird motif with its Indigenous roots,” she says. Skjefte will earn royalties for the design, and Minnetonka will also separately donate a portion of the sale of each shoe to Mni Sota Fund, a nonprofit that helps Native Americans in Minnesota get training and capital for home ownership and entrepreneurship.
Some companies go a step farther—Manitobah Mukluks, based in Canada, has an Indigenous founder and more than half Indigenous staff. (While Minnetonka is actively recruiting more Native American workers, the company says that employees self-report race and it can’t share any data about its current number of Indigenous employees.) Beyond its own line of products, Manitobah also has an online Indigenous Market that features artists who earn 100% of the profit for their work.
White Bear Moccasins, a Native-owned-and-made brand in Montana, makes moccasins from bison hide. Each custom pair can take six to eight hours to make; the shoes cost hundreds of dollars, though they can also be repaired and last as long as a lifetime, says owner Shauna White Bear. In interviews, White Bear has said that she wants “to take our craft back,” from companies like Minnetonka. But she also told Fast Company that she doesn’t think that Minnetonka, as a family-owned business, should have to lose its livelihood now and stop making moccasins.
The situation is arguably different for other fashion brands that might use a Native American symbol—or rip off a Native American design completely—on a single product that could easily be taken off the market. Benjamin says that she has also worked with other companies that have discontinued products.
She sees five steps in the process of reconciliation. First, the person or company who did wrong has to acknowledge the wrong. Then they need to publicly apologize, begin to change behavior, start to rebuild trust, and then, eventually, the wronged party might take the step of forgiveness. Right now, she says, Minnetonka is in the third phase of behavior change. The brand plans to continue to collaborate with Native American designers.
The company can be an example to others on how to listen and build true relationships, Benjamin says. “I think that’s the only way that these relationships are going to get any better—people have to sit down and talk about it,” she says. “People have to be real. People have to apologize. They have to want to reconcile with people.”
The leadership at Minnetonka can also be allies in pushing other companies to do better. “My voice is important at the table as an Indigenous woman,” Benjamin says. “Lucie’s voice is important. But at tables where there’s a majority of people that aren’t Indigenous, sometimes those allies’ voices are more powerful in those spaces, because that means that they’ve signed on to what we’re saying. The power has signed on to moving forward and we agree with ‘Yes, this was wrong.’ That’s the stuff that’s going to change [things] right there.”"
-via FastCompany, February 7, 2024
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