Native American and Indigenous Studies

Published studies about Native North American representations
of Europeans have mostly concentrated on exogenous
influences on Indigenous visual expressions through art historical
theories and methods. Here historical Native American
imagery of colonists is contextualised in local visual cultures
based on principles and cultural logics that challenge received
knowledge about portraiture, naturalism, likeness, and individualization.
The article argues that formalist interpretations
of Indigenous portraits of Europeans made by Plains Native
peoples fall short of understanding the motivations, functions,
and reasoning applied by Indigenous observers to different
types of representations. Based on what is currently known
of Native North American Plains Native peoples, this account
of three different typologies of portraits made between the 18th
and mid-19th c. presents an unprecedented interpretation of
non-Western visual cultures that combine art history and visual
anthropology.

This document contains a copy of the original 1849 annuity payment roll for the Grand River bands of Ottawa Indians of Michigan along with a transcription of the roll and an index of names. These payments were made under the provisions of the treaties of August 3, 1795, November 17, 1807, September 17, 1818 and August 29, 1821.

Surviving the Long Wars offers a groundbreaking exploration into the complex histories of US warfare and militarism, illuminating the pivotal role of art in cultivating justice, healing, and abolition. Inspired by Indigenous responses to the “American Indian Wars” and artists from the Greater Middle East and South Asia challenging the “Global War on Terror,” this volume examines the intersections between these legacies of creative rebellion and the experiences of contemporary Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) veterans. Informed by the emerging Veteran Art Movement and its ties to global struggles for demilitarization and abolition, the book advocates for solidarity and imaginative resistance against war and empire. Featuring poetry, speeches, and artworks from the 2023 Veteran Art Triennial & Summit held in Chicago, the collection exemplifies the Triennial’s profound impact and critical legacy. With interdisciplinary insights spanning Native and Indigenous Studies, Middle Eastern Studies, Critical Ethnic Studies, and Museum and Exhibition Studies, Surviving the Long Wars celebrates Chicago’s legacy of resistance, while confronting erasures of Indigenous history. Renowned contributors such as Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz, Laleh Khalili, Kyle T. Mays, and Junaid Rana offer fresh perspectives on the enduring impacts of US militarism and the potential for unexpected coalitions to emerge. At its core, Surviving the Long Wars is a clarion call for artists, organizers, and scholars to unite against US imperialism, envisioning a future of peace and justice through art and collective action. CONTRIBUTORS INCLUDE: Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz, Laleh Khalili, Kyle T. Mays, and Junaid Rana

This forum engages an emerging discourse around historical reckoning, truth, and reconciliation, asking how these frameworks inform American archaeology and its future. A growing number of archaeologists are now demanding systemic disciplinary transformations that directly address how white supremacy and settler colonialism enact Indigenous dispossession and erasure as well as anti-Blackness, gender discrimination, and ableism. This forum, featuring 10 archaeologists-including a mixture of junior-and senior-level scholarsis organized into thematic dialogues that highlight their different perspectives and experiences within North American cultural heritage management. First, the dialogue interrogates American archaeology's embeddedness in ethnocentrism and racism. It then looks at different forms of collaboration that actualize anti-colonial critiques and corrections. Next, it compares collaborative methods with broader calls for "un-disciplining" through incorporating non-Western expertise, sensibilities, needs, and interests. In response to systemic forms of racism, colonialism, and neoliberalism within archaeology, the authors discuss how individuals and institutions can work for and with Indigenous and descendant communities to achieve "reclamation, " defined as the assertion of community control over their significant places, ancestors, belongings, and historical narratives. The article concludes with a consideration of how archaeology can be used by communities to ensure their collective futures. Resumen El presente foro involucra una discusión que surge de la afrontación (reckoning), la narración de la verdad, así como la reconciliación histórica, cuestionando cómo éstas estructuras nos presenta la arqueología de Estados Unidos, así como de su futuro. Un número creciente de arqueólogos están exigiendo transformaciones disciplinarias sistémicas que aborden directamente cómo la supremacía blanca y el asentamiento colonial promulgan la desposesión y supresión indígena, así como la antinegritud, discriminación basada en genero, y prejuicios en relación a la capacidad humana. Este foro, compuesto de diez arqueólogos-una combinación de académicos de poca y avanzada experiencia en la disciplina-fue dividido en diálogos temáticos que destacan las diferentes perspectivas, y experiencias dentro de la gestión del patrimonio cultural en Norteamérica. En primer lugar, el diálogo cuestiona el arraigo de la arqueología estadounidense en el etnocentrismo y el racismo. Así mismo, se examinan distintas formas de colaboración que rectifica críticas y correcciones anticolonialistas. Por último, se comparan los métodos de colaboración de talle más amplio a la «indisciplina» mediante

The Machipatawa Confederation is a contemporary cultural and ethnic formation rooted in the descendants of Indigenous communities fragmented between the 1500s and 1700s through slavery, forced assimilation, and colonial displacement. While often classified as “extinct” in historical records, these lineages persisted through survival and adaptation, and are now reconstituted under a unified identity. Comparable to the Muscogee and Seminole Nations, the Machipatawa Confederation is not defined by a singular ancient tribal designation but by the collective heritage of smaller groups brought together through shared history and continuity.

This study examines the structure, symbols, and linguistic practices of the Machipatawa Confederation, emphasizing its commitment to cultural revitalization over political recognition or government dependency. The flag and symbols of Machipatawa reflect its foundational values of endurance, struggle, and achievement, while its two interrelated languages—Sayoah and Machipatawa—serve as vital tools of identity and continuity. Selected vocabulary illustrates both linguistic uniqueness and cultural preservation.

Ultimately, the Machipatawa Confederation represents a deliberate effort to reclaim erased histories, restore fragmented identities, and project an autonomous future grounded in cultural innovation, unity, and resilience.

The scale of damage from a series of earthquakes across Christchurch Otautahi in 2010 and 2011 challenged all networks in the city at a time when many individuals and communities were under severe economic pressure. Historically, Maori have drawn on traditional institutions such as whanau, marae, hapu and iwi in their endurance of past crises. This paper presents research in progress to describe how these Maori-centric networks supported both Maori and non-Maori through massive urban dislocation. Resilience to any disaster can be explained by configurations of economic, social and cultural factors. Knowing what has contributed to Maori resilience is fundamental to the strategic enhancement of future urban communities -Maori and non-Maori.

What does it mean for a culture to include, or exclude, ancestors as active members? How do Indigenous cultures and traditions cast light on the role of ancestors? Those are the central questions in this article. It begins by offering a general account of the role of ancestors in Indigenous cultures and traditions. These general comments contextualize specific engagement with the work of the novelist and essayist Leslie Marmon Silko (a Laguna Pueblo author) and also with the philosopher Kyle Whyte (a Potawatomi author). Having acquired from Silko and Whyte a sense for the active, intergenerational role played by ancestors in Indigenous cultures, the article then addresses the place of ancestors in Euro-American cultures and traditions, noting that due to particular forms of Christianity and secularism, Euro-American scholars and popular culture more generally tend to discount the role of ancestors. Yet, the work of Silko and others lend sight to see traces of ancestors in Euro-American cultures. Finally, the article returns to the question: What difference might it make to include or exclude ancestors in Euro-American communities and democracy? The approach in this article is transdisciplinary, drawing from the fields of religious studies (specifically its subfield, philosophy of religion and ethics), Indigenous studies, anthropology, political theory, and literary criticism.

This article examines William James's philosophy of science through his pragmatic response to epistemic fallibilism, emphasizing how actionability-rather than evidential certainty-underwrites both scientific and religious practices. While James explicitly drew comparisons between science and Abrahamic scriptures, my account highlights resonances with non-Western traditions, particularly Indigenous American and Asian epistemologies, also situating some of James's philosophical motivations within his biography. James may have indirectly absorbed Asian religious and philosophical teachings from American Transcendentalists, who engaged with them, and he may have encountered Amerindian perspectives through the cultural milieu of the United States or during his Amazonian expedition. In either case, threads within these global Indigenous traditions align with the weight James's work gives to contextual, agent-relative forms of knowing that are inseparable from action. I conclude by discussing how James's ideas support an account of animism that integrates Amerindian thought with the extended mind thesis. I also detail how his pluralistic account of experience and reality creates conceptual space for the coexistence of science and spirituality-ironically, by undermining the assumption that the two operate according to radically distinct epistemologies. Throughout the article, I connect James's thought to more recent debates in religion and metaphysics.

This thesis explores preliminary lexical parallels between Turkic languages and selected Native American languages, including Aleut, Yucatec Maya, and Nahuatl. These observations are considered in the context of possible prehistoric migrations across Beringia and broader debates about the possibilities of deep genetic relationships among world languages. While the findings are tentative, recurring phonological and semantic similarities suggest potential avenues for research involving linguistics, archaeology, and population genetics. The study contributes to long-range comparative linguistics by providing evidence for possible lexical continuity between Eurasian and American language families, while also critically evaluating the possibility that these resemblances are coincidental.

This article discuses technology used to develop graphic material in fine arts classes. The purpose of fine arts classes is to teach students to draw on a variety of graphic materials; to teach them to see, comprehend, understand and appreciate the beauties of being and art; to develop aesthetic and artistic taste, to expand the scope of artistic thought; to develop artistic creativity and imagination, to help them find their own style, their own way of creativity.

Resumo: Este artigo, escrito pelo pesquisador Emil' Keme, do povo K'iche' Maya e publicado originalmente em Maya K'iche', espanhol e inglês, é um texto seminal sobre a proposição da categoria Abiayala como interpelação das estruturas da colonialidade e da modernidade, nas quais a nomenclatura América serve ao apagamento dos povos originários desta terra, de suas histórias e culturas que resistiram e resistem aos diversos genocídios, epistemicídios e etnocídios pelos quais passaram e passam, mantendo vivas as suas lutas pela preservação de seu modo de ser no mundo, por seus territórios e direitos. Ao afirmar Abiayala como lugar de enunciação indígena trans-hemisférica, o autor apresenta possibilidades de se pensar e se produzir pontes de unidade, diálogo e de fortalecimento mútuo para essas lutas, tendo em mente a grande diversidade desses povos ante a similaridade de suas necessidades, dificuldades e desafios, em especial a organização e atuação política na busca pela conquista e garantia de direitos. Assim, essa ressiginicação ultrapassa o âmbito da linguagem, abarcando o epistemológico, geográfico, político e cultural, em um processo de reafirmação das identidades de cada povo indígena de Abiayala e de sua indigeneidade fundamentada na ancestralidade.

Since the end of the 20th century, as a result of the struggles of indigenous and Afro-descendant peoples in Latin America, different types of universities have been created that are often generically referred to as “intercultural universities”. However, experiences in this field are very heterogeneous and a distinction must be made between at least three main types of institutions. One corresponds to initiatives established “by” indigenous and/or Afro-descendant organisations and/or intellectuals. Another refers to universities and other institutions of Higher Education created through alliances between indigenous and Afro-descendant groups with “conventional” universities and/or different types of social organisations. A third type corresponds to universities created “for” members of indigenous communities and founded by state agencies. The present chapter offers an overview of this diversity of institutional arrangements; it pays special attention to the modes of learning developed within them and to the way they relate to the communities and organisations of the indigenous and Afro-descendant peoples and to their knowledge and proposals. Furthermore, it briefly examines the main axes of tension and conflict that arise in the relations between these institutions and the corresponding states.

In this paper, we review the literature and context of student parents and Aboriginal access to higher education in Canada and Manitoba. We then present results from a survey of 73 northern Manitoba students, 74 percent of whom report Aboriginal status. We review quantitative and qualitative data showing how family caregiving and childcare obligations affect their education. We propose that universities and colleges must address the reality that, while 11 percent of all PSE students are parents, the rates are more than triple among Native students. For Aboriginal women learners, lack of childcare and caregiving supports are overlooked barriers to higher education. This paper explores a generally unrecognized dimension of systemic discrimination which disadvantages Aboriginal students in the academy. We suggest that just as libraries are essential for post-secondary education institutions, so too are childcare services and the accommodation of caregiving.

This volume has been meticulously organized into three distinct sections, namely: “Human-Plant and Territoriality”, “Human-Plant and the Literary”, and “Human-Plant and Transfiguration.” Each of these sections holds significant importance in elucidating the multifaceted relationship between humans and plants. Within this structural framework, a total of eleven chapters are distributed. This deliberate arrangement underscores the thematic coherence and scholarly rigor of the volume. The first chapter, “Charles Edenshaw’s ‘Fungus Man’ Platters & Tlingit Grave Effigies: Exploring Human-Fungus Relationships through Agarikon Art,” authored by Alexandra M. Peck, belongs to the section entitled, “Human-Plant and Territoriality.” It is a profound inquiry to explore how within Haida and Tlingit societies, life and death are intricately linked to a particular fungus, known as Agarikon (Laricifomes officinalis). This chapter explains how this woody conk features prominently in Haida origin stories, where Agarikon is anthropomorphized as the legendary “Fungus Man” character, whose bravery and power are credited with the creation of women. Amongst the Tlingit, Agarikon plays a complementary role and was employed in pre-colonial mortuary settings, where the fungus offered protection for the deceased. Examining 19th century Haida artist Charles Edenshaw’s carved argillite platters that depict Fungus Man, as well as ancient Tlingit grave effigies carved from actual Agarikon, this chapter draws upon traditional ecological knowledge, oral history, mycology, and material culture to explore the unique spiritual, symbiotic relationship between fungi and First Nations. As further evidence of its protective qualities, Agarikon possesses properties that fight against tuberculosis and smallpox, both diseases that significantly affected Native nations after contraction from European settlers. Now critically endangered because of logging and timber industries—a visceral reminder of settler colonialism’s extractive impact on the Pacific Northwest’s lush rainforests—Agarikon’s future is uncertain. Nevertheless, the fungus remains spiritually, cosmologically, and culturally significant to the Haida and Tlingit, even as Agarikon becomes increasingly associated with a pseudo-mythical, pre-colonial past.

Just as Agarikon was responsible for creating women, the life-givers and cultural caretakers of Haida society, the fungus was a meaningful Tlingit reminder of death and dying. As we grapple with the modern Anthropocene and accompanying dystopian events (climate change, old growth forest devastation, disease epidemics) that have disproportionately impacted and forever altered Indigenous nations, material reminders of Agarikon offer a new lens through which to view these challenges. Unlike other studies of human-fungi relationships that emphasize solely the medicinal, culinary, or hallucinogenic uses of mushrooms, this case study represents a deeper, more nuanced example of how human and fungus or plant-like entities are intertwined and dependent upon each other. Agarikon reminds us that we cannot reference human origins or even death without acknowledging the agency and influence of local ecology.

In 2014 Gary Van Valen published a thought-provoking article in "Voices: The Journal of New York Folklore" titled “The Seven Trees and Ramapough Ethnicity.” In it he took issue with my interpretation of a so-called “Negro Charm” collected circa 1910 from seventy-five year old William De Freece in Ringwood, New Jersey, by Columbia University linguist John Dyneley Prince.

Altāit än zômer
Stât de zûve bôme
äske’n āike än āl de lāng vôrbāi
Kän nît rolle; wāt er opstât

Always in summer
stand the seven trees;
ash and oak and all along past they
cannot proceed. What are they standing on?

Art historian Robert Farris Thompson has shown that aspects of the traditional Kongo civilization were brought to the Americas, especially to Cuba and Brazil. These included cosmological drawings, called cosmograms and the supernatural uses of trees, staffs, branches, and roots. One cosmogram he collected from the Brazilian priests of the folk religion known as Macumba in Rio de Janeiro. It depicted "a Latin cross within a Star of David within a circle decorated with six minor stars." Thus, this "Negro Charm" collected by Prince may well have been an African survival of the cosmological belief system of the Bakongo people.

Van Valen says in a book titled "Mythology of the Lenape: Guide and Texts" published in 1995, folklorist John Bierhorst noted that what is known as the “Pleiades [seven stars] and Tree” motif was collected in the 1930s in Eastern Oklahoma by University of Pennsylvania anthropologist Frank C. Speck circa 1931 in his book on the Delaware Indian Big House Ceremony.
However, there is no contemporary evidence that the Lenape Indians practiced the Big House Ceremony when they lived in New Jersey.

Ray Whritenour, who has studied the Delaware language for thirty-five years, in a letter he wrote in April 1984 to James Revey of the New Jersey Indian Office had a different interpretation of the “Negro charm.” He says that the line “Always in summer stand the seven trees” means “they always stand in summer because they are ever green (evergreens--i.e., pines and cedars).  Whritenour says the answer to what are they standing on is the Milky Way “ (or the Spirit Path to heaven) that is located  the side of the Plaeiades. He argues that the cure is related to the Myth of the Red Cedar.

However, Van Valen goes even further by concluding that the “charm” is evidence that the present-day Ramapo Mountain People descend from Lenape Indians.  But the fact that there may have been some cross-cultural syncretism between African and Native American cosmologies in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, when the ancestors of the Ramapo Mountain People lived in the Hackensack Valley and when the Lenape Indians still lived in colonial New Jersey, is consistent with the fact some of the herb cures and folk remedies I noted in Appendix B of "The Ramapo Mountain People" were similar to those collected by Gladys Tantaquideon among the Delaware Indians in Oklahoma. But neither the loan words, the herb cures, nor this “charm” prove that the Ramapo Mountain People descend from the Lenape Indians, especially in light to the extensive genealogical evidence of Afro-Dutch ancestry I presented in "The Ramapo Mountain People."

The integration of Indigenous Knowledges in planning represents an ongoing dilemma. On the one hand, involvement in the planning process enhances a decolonial space for Indigenous Peoples. On the other, it legitimates the coloniality of planning and coopts Indigenous Knowledges. Because of its complexity, a holistic view of the mechanisms Indigenous Peoples create to engage, support, and empower themselves during the planning process represents an alternative approach. In this paper, I apply the voice of place to describe the epistemological reclamation five Tribal Nations experience in the Bears Ears National Monument. The findings suggest a refusal of settler narratives in Indigenous Land, the importance of Indigenous processes, a praxis of relational Knowledges, and the fluid forms of moving between knowledge systems while maintaining knowledge sovereignty. By telling a story from the Tribes' perspective, this research re-signifies the role of Indigenous Peoples when engaging in settler-state planning.

This essay examines the role traveling indigeneity plays in the creation of global Indigenous theories that honor connections between Palestinians and Natives. Global Indigenous studies is reliant on Indigenous movements that are dialogic, transgressive, and inter/national in their motives and trajectories. Two narratives that attest to the patterns and itineraries of Indigenous theory can be found in the writings of Choctaw writer LeAnne Howe and Palestinian scholar Steven Salaita. Inspiring a world of connections, these authors journey across settler colonial boundaries, centering place and producing land-based insights on relationality and reciprocity. Considering the global scale of settler colonial violence, and its ongoing drive to dispossess through continued genocide, this essay highlights indigeneity—and the stories and theories it formulates through acts of travel, movement, and mutual solidarity—as a historical and continuing force that should ground the work of resisting and unraveling settler colonialism and all that maintains it.

F irst Nations, Métis, and Inuit advocates and their allies have led explicit, wide-ranging efforts to "indigenize" higher education across Canada since the 1990s. The move to indigenize seeks to make colleges and universities more welcoming to Indigenous students, more inclusive of Indigenous knowledge, and more aligned with community interests. It thus revises the predominant historical function of the Canadian university system, which was run by and for (rich, white, male) settlers and produced few Indigenous graduates prior to 1950s and 1960s. Moreover, reflecting the genocidal and assimilationist goals of the Canadian state, the educational system did not teach those Indigenous students about their own cultures, languages, histories, or knowledge systems. Unsurprisingly, prior waves of demand for Native control over education preceded the ongoing movement for indigenization, from education clauses in numbered treaties Erich Steinman, professor of sociology at Pitzer College, is an activist-scholar of Norwegian and German ancestry whose work focuses on Indigenous movements, settler colonialism, unsettling processes, and social movement coalitions and collaborations. His current projects include a study of lessons learned by non-Natives during Indigenous solidarity efforts, ethnoautobiographic learning linking together Indigenous and settler histories, and place-specific popular education about settler colonialism and Indigenous resilience (www.ESteinman.com). Scott edward Orellana Ingles Scoggins is the Strategic Partnership and Development coordinator for Anahuacalmecac International University of North America. He is a member of the Pipil, Nahuat, Maya Indigenous communities of Kuxkatan (El Salvador), the Kuxkatan Indigenous Collective, and serves as a representative to Consejo Coordinador Nacional Indígena Salvadoreño in the diaspora. Scoggins implements traditional ways of learning into educational programs that challenge, inspire, and motivate Indigenous youth to reconnect to their communities.

Federal Indian law emerges from the late eighteenth century onward as a corpus that departs distinctively from the central core of U.S. law. While the latter is grounded, in the first instance, in the civil rights of the individual, understood in the Lockean sense as having a fundamental property in him or herself and thus as always an actual or potential property holder (the paradigm of property in Locke being real estate);' the former' impacts in the first instance on the community, the federally recognized "tribe" or "nation. 4 Thus, since the foundational Marshall trilogy-Johnson v. M'Intosh,5 Cherokee Na•6 Jono v. •~t hrkeN

Exploring the hunting acumen of Native Americans from extant resources of frontier journals throughout the contact period. Through stasis of rigid ancient lifeways, historical accounts are another source of data to understand more ancient people groups of the artifacts in our possession today. Snapshots taken of Native hunting behaviors, techniques, tools and species intent through eyewitness accounts can be thought of as portals to learn about more archaic cultures when continuity is established or evidenced. Through observation, worship and parody of animals, North American Indigenous people groups were some of the most adept hunters  the world has ever known. This treatise brings data points from a wide range of sources to round out speculation and assumptions from other archaeological diagnostics.

Introductory essay for a new book about the artist Jerrold Ballaine (b. 1934). The newest book is number 8 in a series I have written and published and which concern the artist and his work. The title refers to changes in Ballaine's life: gradual loss of vision due to macular degeneration. The latest book reflects how this artist responds to changes in his interaction with reality.

O universo de experiências de Educação Superior por/para/com os povos indígenas atualmente em curso a escala mundial constitui um campo acadêmico e social –em sentido amplo– cada vez mais importante e diverso. Os avanços neste campo são resultado das lutas dos povos indígenas, bem como dos movimentos sociais antirracismo, de direitos humanos, e de educação popular. Também têm estado associados às práticas institucionais de algumas universidades e outros tipos de Instituições de Ensino Superior (IES), assim como aos de algumas agências intergovernamentais e de cooperação internacional, uma diversidade de organizações sociais, fundações privadas, setores de várias igrejas, e algumas agências governamentais. Estes avanços têm sido possíveis também graças ao compromisso de uma grande variedade de indivíduos, como líderes, anciões e sábios de organizações e comunidades locais; estudantes e docentes de todos os níveis educativos; investigadores e funcionários de universidades e outras IES...

Honorable Chair of the Tohono O'odham Nation, Verlon Jose kindly asks us all to respect every twig and rock in their sacred homeland. We make every effort to live by this. The Tohono O'odham ancestors still dwell in these holy places and the native creatures are the relatives of the Tohono O'odham people.

Posées il y a trois siècles, les rubriques instaurées par Lafitau dans ses Moeurs des sauvages ameriquains se sont perpétuées en anthropologie depuis. Les thèmes de recherche, les intitulés de cours, la désignation des postes, et bien d'autres facettes reprennent cette même nomenclature. Il s'agira d'explorer les processus par lesquels ces termes se sont mis en place et surtout sont restés en usage, aujourd'hui encore.

The Pequot author William Apess is regarded as having almost miraculously transcended poverty, racism, and injustice to become an eloquent orator. Modern scholars have imagined the place of his birth as a primitive camp in the hills. Yet Colrain, in the early 1800s, was a bustling, religiously diverse, transcultural town where white (mostly Scots-Irish), Native American, and African American people routinely crossed paths, and where the Apess family routinely crossed color lines. Over time, Apess drew on his experiences among tribal, racial, and religious groups in multiple locales (Colchester, Colrain, Ledyard, Mashpee, Tyendinega, and elsewhere) to construct a compellingly romanticized (and colonized) version of indigenous identity. Onstage and in print, he was an iconic "poor Indian" and "son of the forest"; in person, he was a well-educated, cosmopolitan performer who loved the limelight and feared the wilderness. He evoked a precolonial ideal of a pristine Native life, while delivering trenchant critiques of white settler abuses; yet he advocated for religious conformity more than for indigenous survivance. Thus, to better contextualize Apess' life and works, we need to critically and carefully consider nineteenth-century modes of identity formation, national affiliation, cultural performance, and racial tropes, including those articulated by Apess himself.

with whom I had the previous privilege of conducting a Masters of the Arts in Economic History. The writing of one's dissertation is largely an exercise in self-imposed physical and intellectual isolation, delving ever deeper into a seeming quagmire of terms, concepts, and activities that are of almost no discernible importance to any but a handful of other scholars; as such, during these times, the sympathy and commiseration of other scholars in a similar situation is without equal. I would also like to take this opportunity to express my sincere thanks to the staff and, especially, the librarians and archivists, who executed their duties with great care, efficiency, courtesy, and professionalism. On many occasions, these laboring scholars made recommendations for consultations that produced documents that otherwise would have remained unknown to me. This dissertation would have remained, literally, theoretical without their dedicated, daily work, for which I extend to them my utmost appreciation. On a more personal note, I must express my gratitude to my friends and family, who not only made this dissertation possible, but also encouraged me to stay the course and weather every storm, be it intellectual, psychological, or logistical. Appreciations aside, I humbly dedicate this dissertation to the masses of toilers condemned to work away their lives without recognition, whose stories will never be known; and, to the popular historians who strive to dignify labor's contributions to the great tasks of humanity and to rescue their memory from the "enormous condescension of posterity". 2 2 Thompson, E. P. ( ) "Introduction", The making of the English working class (1. Vintage ed). New York: Vintage Books, p. 12.

Federal Indian law emerges from the late eighteenth century onward as a corpus that departs distinctively from the central core of U.S. law. While the latter is grounded, in the first instance, in the civil rights of the individual, understood in the Lockean sense as having a fundamental property in him or herself and thus as always an actual or potential property holder (the paradigm of property in Locke being real estate);' the former' impacts in the first instance on the community, the federally recognized "tribe" or "nation. 4 Thus, since the foundational Marshall trilogy-Johnson v. M'Intosh,5 Cherokee Na•6 Jono v. •~t hrkeN

The painter and sculptor Fritz Scholder (1937 - 2005) was of French, English, and German decent, but was also a member of the Luiseño tribe of Native American Indians.  Although he is best known today for his uncompromising depiction of Native Americans as a contrast to the then-current romanticised notion of the 'noble savage,' he also created images of a more universal or 'non-Indian' sensibility.  This catalogue entry analyses one such ostensibly 'non-Indian' image to identify its context within the artist's output and to articulate the artwork's underlying power and dynamism.  This artwork was donated to the permanent collection of the National Museum of the American Indian by the author:

https://americanindian.si.edu/collections-search/object/NMAI_281912

Transcribed in this document is the 1855 annual annuity payment roll for the Ottawa and Chippewa Indians of Michigan. This payment was the last payment made the under the provisions of the treaty of March 28, 1836. This document includes a transcription of the payment roll, a copy of the original roll and an index of names.

For a decade, growing numbers of scholars have interrogated the topics of Native American people of African descent, relations between Native Americans and African Americans, and the enslavement of African people by Native people. These subjects were once familiar mostly to specialists in the histories of the native peoples of the regions we now call the Southeast and Oklahoma. But they have drawn increasing attention from scholars in American studies and related disciplines and have become associated with a number of authors, including James F. Brooks, Jack D. Forbes, Barbara Krauthamer, Tiya Miles, Celia E. Naylor, Claudio Saunt, and Circe Sturm. Indeed, the book reviewed here was published almost simultaneously with a closely related work, Saunt's excellent history of a Creek family with African, white, and Indian roots and branches. Why has a field that some might consider obscure, and some others would prefer to leave in obscurity, come to command such attention?

In this volume, editors Terri M. Baker and Connie Oliver Henshaw gather dozens of excerpts from the narratives of white, American Indian, and African American Oklahoma women as written and edited by Works Progress Administration (WPA) workers in the 1930s. The scores of well-chosen and often gripping vignettes will provide teachers with an excellent resource for classroom use and will capture the imagination of what seems to be its intended audiences: general readers interested in Oklahoma history, women in the American West, and American Indian studies. The book, however, will likely frustrate scholars who have read and thought deeply in these fields.

In June 1898, a group of men gathered in the town of Wewoka, capital of the Seminole Nation, to found the Inter-national Afro-American League. With an eye toward impending changes in the political and social landscape of Indian Territory, they dedicated themselves to mobilizing African Americans to defend their interests.∞ The name of the league is worthy of close examination. The term ‘‘Afro-American’’ proudly proclaimed the enduring identification of these black Ameri- cans with Africa. In the word ‘‘Inter-national’’ we are tempted to hear a related affirmation: that the struggle of African Americans was part of a worldwide struggle of people of African descent. Although this interpretation is possible, another is more likely and more instructive. In the context of Wewoka in the 1890s, ‘‘international’’ often referred to relations among the principal nations of Indian Territory: the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Muskogee, and Seminole nations. The founders of the league were inhabitants of these nations. By organizing across national lines and by claiming the name ‘‘Afro-American,’’ the founders of the organization affirmed the racial unity that bound them together. By asserting that this was an international organization, the founders of the league also asserted that the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Muskogee, and Seminole nations were indeed nations, and this at a time that the federal government of the United States was threatening to abolish those nations’ political existence. Read in this way, the name of the Inter-national Afro-American League signals the power that the idea of the nation held in late-nineteenth-century Indian Territory.

It seems to me that the crux of the issue in thinking about "Pacific Empires" is spatial definition and perspective. What do we talk about when we talk about the Pacific and its history? In my mind, it is essential to center the Pacific, its islands, and its peoples-especially its indigenous peoples-in the history of the region. Whether our goal is to understand Pacific Islanders or empires in the Pacific, we must look at the Pacific from the Pacific, rather than look at it only from the outside. If we can do this, we will not only understand the Pacific Ocean and Pacific Islanders better, we will have a firmer and more grounded understanding of the empires and global processes with which Pacific Islanders have engaged. In saying this, I speak from my own work in Native Hawaiian history, but I also echo the words of many scholars who work in Pacific Islander history more broadly. Perhaps most important among these has been the great Epeli Hauʻofa. Contemporary Pacific Studies proceeds from the basis of Hauʻofa's eloquent insistence that we remember that the Pacific is "our sea of islands." 1 The phrase is a rebuke to those who would portray the ocean as a near-empty "waste" marked only by isolated specks of land. It posits the Pacific instead as an oceanic world dense with meaning and knit together with the webs of connection and movement among its many islands. The need to center the Pacific in the study of Pacific history might seem rather obvious, but as Noenoe K. Silva has argued from the perspective of Hawaiian history, much of the literature suggests that this has long not been the case. 2 The literature on the region has often most prominently focused on the history of empires (both formal and informal) and settlers, and not on Padavid a. chang is a historian of race and ethnicity in Hawai'i and the United States, focusing especially on the histories of American Indian and Native Hawaiian people. A professor at the University of Minnesota, his most recent book is The World and All the Things Upon It: Native Hawaiian Geographies of Exploration (University of Minnesota Press, 2016).

One day in 1866 the McIntosh family learned that they were free. Prior to that day Jackson and Hagar McIntosh and their eight children had labored for their owner, Roley McIntosh. He was the micco (generally translated as “king”) of the town of Coweta in the Creek Nation in present-day Oklahoma. Roley McIntosh, like some of the wealthiest men in the nation, had taken up arms for the Creek faction that had allied itself with the Confederacy in the American Civil War. The nation was split as another faction fought alongside Union forces. When Roley McIntosh’s side lost and a treaty of peace with the United States emancipated Creek slaves, he sent word that Jackson and Hagar McIntosh, their children, and his other slaves were freed. The good news did not stop there, however. More than six decades later one of the McIntosh daughters, Nellie, would still recall hearing the momentous news that “we . . . can take up some land for our own selves.”

After the war the McIntoshes stayed on the same land they had once farmed for their master. The land they farmed became their own because of the nature of Creek citizenship and land tenure. The 1866 treaty of peace between the federal government and the Creek Nation (also known as the Muskogee Nation) declared that freed slaves were full Creek citizens. Moreover, the treaty explicitly stated that black Creek citizens would enjoy “an equal interest in the soil.” Black people constituted about 13 percent of the nation of 14,300 people—about 1,780 former slaves and at least 60 people (certainly many more) who were free prior to the war. The treaty meant that they could carve farms out of the national lands just as other citizens could. All lands belonged to the nation as a whole, but Creek farmers enjoyed exclusive use (usufruct) rights over the land they tilled and planted.

The 1860s, 1870s, and 1880s were marked by two movements that were causally related yet contradictory: huge waves of global migration in tension with nation-states’ increased efforts to consolidate authority over their borders. Three villages and hamlets—one at Irish Creek in El Dorado County, California; one at Waiākea in Hilo, Hawai‘i; and one at Wushi in Xiangshan, China—exemplify this tension and illustrate its meanings. Tracing the connections that linked these three places demonstrates the utility of using borderlands to understand the complex relationship between global migration and restrictive border making in the nineteenth century. Each of these places might be considered a borderland, and examining them as such can demonstrate how borderlands scholarship turns our attention to important yet easily neglected meeting places in history and opens our eyes to the complexities and ambiguities of social relations in those places.

Studying these places can also point to the importance of resisting two limitations of the term “borderlands.” First, the word privileges contact between two nation-states. While binational contact is important, the emergence of the modern world saw the construction of spaces where global history became local: often more than two countries were in social and economic contact, rendering the coherence of national boundaries uncertain. Rather than studying places such as the U.S.-Mexican borderlands as the region surrounding one border, we can usefully conceive of them as nodes in a network of global processes and can use the sites’ global connections to understand these processes. Second, a nation-state focus in borderlands history risks obscuring the histories of indigenous peoples whose lands had been colonized or were at risk of colonization, such as nineteenth-century American Indians and Kānaka Maoli (one of the principal Hawaiian language terms for indigenous Hawaiian people). Such people lived within or at the margins of nation-states but often not at places that Americans recognize as borders. Recognizing people as indigenous in a borderlands context becomes more complex and more urgent given the fact that they often moved beyond the borders of their original homelands under compulsion (as in the case of the Concow) or were citizens of nations that, while struggling against colonialism, were still recognized as territorial sovereigns (as in the case of Hawai‘i).

On November 8, 1823, Keali‘iahonui, a son of the ali‘i ‘ai moku (ruling chief) of Kaua‘i, wrote a letter in the Hawaiian language to Jeremiah Evarts, corresponding secretary of the Boston-based American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (ABCFM). This letter merits close scrutiny: it is one of the earliest manuscript documents in Hawaiian by a Native Hawaiian. The first decades of the nineteenth century saw tumultuous changes in the islands. One Hawai‘i Island chief named Kamehameha rose to preeminence over the whole archipelago; foreigners from North America, Europe, and other Pacific islands made their presence felt; the Hawaiian structure of priestly and chiefly ritual and power was overthrown; and American missionaries evangelized for their own beliefs and practices. Carefully contextualized within these rapidly changing circumstances, Keali‘iahonui’s letter speaks powerfully of the place that Ka¯naka Maoli (Native Hawaiians) made for the written word.

© 2016 by the Contemporary Science Association, New York. In this article we investigate strategies for authentically engaging Indigenous knowledges in the epistemologically Western "uni-versity" using data from cross-institutional, virtual international student exchanges between University of Alaska Fairbanks and Victoria University of Wellington. Analysis of student perspectives on Indigenous Knowledges (IK) from discussion forums illustrates their growing understandings of IK as authentic, complex systems generating distinct theoretical and analytic frames; including insights as to how these frames provide innovative, cross-disciplinary processes and solutions to current challenges. Targeted and student-generated questions initiated dynamic dialogue, including: the intersections and divergences of Western and Indigenous knowledge systems; the roles of Indigenous languages in enhancing understandings of IK; the potential for bridging or interfacing IK and Western knowled...

This article unravels the concept of eco-trauma in American Indians’ lifestyle in Gardens in the Dunes (2000), a novel portraying eco-concerns of Leslie Marmon Silko (1948). Silko’s novel is preoccupied with ecological concerns of American Indians who depend on nature to continue their existence. Being detached from their ancestral lands, Indians encountered several psychological problems due to their indispensable loyalty to nature. This article focuses on the significance of environment and ‘place’ according to Lawrence Buell (1939), and traces ‘place’ as the center of feeling for a person. Cheryll Glotfelty’s connection between nature and culture, and Cathy Caruth’s perspective on trauma have been utilized to explain Indians’ psychological problems due to loss of ancestral lands. Eco-traumatic approach illustrates the interrelation of Native American’s identity and culture with their living place. Indeed, Indians return to their land to eliminate their environmental concerns. Their ceaseless effort to reverse eco-trauma by adhering to their ancestral ritual is also examined in this article. Silko re-emphasizes and stipulates that the notion of nature can consolidate Indians’ identity; hence, loyalty to natural environment ensures how Native Americans’ loss of land and nature opens up the experience of eco-loss or eco-trauma and diminishes Native Americans’ culture.

This dissertation constructs a counter-institutional history of contemporary art and visual culture advancing Hawaiian sovereignty from the 1960s into the speculative future. In the decades following Hawai‘i's US statehood admission in 1959, alongside growing discontent with intensifying capital investment in tourism and further fortification of military infrastructure, there began a resurgent—and still ongoing—Hawaiian cultural renaissance. Scholars and artists alike, though, have long bemoaned the seemingly minimal role of the visual arts in this wake, highlighting the general reluctance of Euro-American-centric fine art institutions in Hawai‘i to neither include Kanaka Maoli artists in exhibitions nor support and uplift Native Hawaiian concerns. While critical art historical scholarship has long addressed this ostracism, I take a different approach toward historicizing contemporary art in Hawai‘i, seeking to challenge the very inclination for institutional inclusion. Instead, this dissertation contends that work produced in an explicitly counter-institutional spirit with antagonistic anti-colonial politics had an immediate impact on cultivating support for Hawai‘i's self-determination precisely because of its exclusion from Hawai‘i's hegemonic art institutions. Put differently, early work emerging from non-art contexts importantly did not acquiesce to Euro-American tastes nor seek institutional affirmation, opting to develop and evolve alongside various social concerns and land struggles in Hawai‘i. As I argue, these practices have remained vital foundational touchstones and references for artists working today, forming the foundation of a revolutionary visual culture of national liberation in Hawai‘i that continues to complement, give voice to, and shape the Hawaiian sovereignty movement.

Spanning political print publications, social photography, documentary filmmaking, site-specific sculpture, installations, video work, and digital cartography, among other media, I trace an expansive and ongoing artistic movement in Hawai‘i concerned not with institutional acceptance but, rather, linked through the Indigenous ethical value and radical environmentalism of aloha ‘āina, or "love of the land." Building upon its existing multiplicity of meanings, I theorize aloha ‘āina as both an artistic medium and method of national liberation in the anti-colonial Marxist tradition, converging as an expression of national culture in Hawai‘i. The dissertation's four chapters roughly follow a chronological order and demarcate shifts in artistic production over time. Chapter one examines the early documentarian practices of Kokua Hawaii, Ed Greevy, and Nā Maka o ka ‘Āina from the 1960s through 1993. Chapter two compares site-specific works commissioned by Hawai‘i's arts institutions in the 1970s to ongoing place-based community endeavors begun by Piliāmoʻo and Bernice Akamine in the 1980s and 1990s, respectively. Chapter three assesses work by Drew Kahu‘āina Broderick, Tropic Zine, Jane Chang Mi, Tiare Ribeaux, and others that challenges the interdependent apparatuses of the tourist industry and military occupation in contemporary Hawai‘i. Chapter four analyzes Sean Connelly's online, sculptural, and socially engaged efforts to recover traditional land management practices, imagining decolonial Hawai‘i futures. This genealogy, in which questions over land have remained the primary motivating factor, proposes an environmental art history of post-statehood Hawai‘i that seeks to become the art history of an independent Hawaiian nation.