Federal Recognition Research Articles

Magunkaquog Materiality, Federal Recognition, and the Search for a Deeper History

This article explores the manner in which archaeology can address some of the issues that confront contemporary Native American groups trying to gain federal recognition. Often frustrating and at times capricious, the federal recognition process privileges documentary evidence over other forms of information in determining the political and cultural continuity demanded of groups seeking recognition. Demonstrating cultural continuity is hindered by the antiquated, assimilationist views that underpin the recognition process which equate the adoption of European cultural practices with the loss of Indian identity. This issue of authenticity is linked to even broader questions concerning materiality and the construction of identity. Drawing on archaeological and documentary investigations of the Christian Indian community of Magunkaquog, this paper explores the ambiguities of an archival record that can be challenged by material evidence. Archaeological evidence of cultural persistence discussed in the paper supports the political arguments of contemporary Native American groups that their ancestors maintained their political and cultural identity in the face of European colonization.

Indians, Southerners, and Americans: Race, Tribe, and Nation during “Jim Crow”

Indians, Southerners, and AmericansRace, Tribe, and Nation during “Jim Crow” Malinda Maynor Lowery (bio) After the Civil War, Southerners of all races struggled to resolve questions of citizenship, opportunity, political autonomy, and freedom in a drastically changed economic environment. The story of Southern African Americans in this period is well known, while that of Native Americans centers on conflicts over the United States’ imperial expansion in the West. But Native Americans in the South contended with an imperial force as well: the mounting wave of white supremacy. By 1910 white supremacy dictated the separation of racial groups in public facilities—schools, churches, movie theaters, streetcars, and other places. In Robeson County, North Carolina, home of the largest Indian community east of the Mississippi, that separation was threefold in the county seat of Lumberton. There were different facilities for whites, blacks, and Indians. In the county courthouse each group had its own water fountains and restrooms, while the Lumberton movie theater boasted a balcony divided by chicken wire for the Indian and black patrons. What were the contours and boundaries of racial segregation for Native American Southerners? How did their identities function and how did the concept of race become institutionalized out of identities based on different markers, of kinship and place? Furthermore, how did Indians negotiate identities as both Indians and American citizens? Why do Indians seek recognition, when other American citizens have devoted so much energy to dispossessing them? I want to introduce the topic of Indian citizenship and federal recognition with a personal story. I am Lumbee, from Robeson County, North Carolina, and the people you see in this photograph are all Lumbees. [End Page 1] Click for larger view View full resolution Fig. 1. Veterans’ Club, Pembroke State College for Indians, 1946. First row, left to right: James H. Dial, Danford Dial, Archie Oxendine, J. P. Swett, Brantley Blue, Vincent Lowry. Second row, left to right: J. A. Jacobs, Grady Oxendine, Castor Locklear, Harry West Locklear, Lock B. Locklear, William Earl Oxendine, Josephus Jacobs, Simeon Cummings, Reese Bullard. Third row, left to right: Henry Ford Lowry, Peter Dial, Theodore Maynor, Andrew Ransom, Warford Maynor. Courtesy Lumbee River Fund Collection, Mary Livermore Library, University of North Carolina at Pembroke. My great-uncle Theodore Maynor is pictured here in 1946 as a veteran—he’s the bald head at the very top of the group, in the center. My father remembers Uncle Theodore as the most politically active of his father’s brothers, a “maverick who drank whiskey,” Woodmen of the World member, and Boy Scout booster. Uncle Theodore spent the 1930s teaching school, after having earned a teaching certificate in 1928. The navy drafted him early in World War II, and after the war he returned to college to earn a baccalaureate degree at Pembroke State College for Indians, which is now the University of North Carolina at Pembroke. While back at college after the war, Uncle Theodore joined the Veterans’ Club; he is nearly forty years old here, a senior member of this group of dapper gentlemen—they might have inspired the casting and costuming for Guys and Dolls; their expressions and outfits announce them as good-natured men, shy adventurers, and soft-hearted rogues. Their poses are reminiscent of 1940s American culture and prosperity. But their surnames also connect them to an older, ancient, perhaps sacred culture. [End Page 2] Every one of them has a name that is instantly recognizable as part of the kinship community of Robeson County Indians. Uncle Theodore and the rest of these men gave their loyalty to two communities, American and Indian, but they wondered whether that loyalty was returned. I use this photograph of the Veterans’ Club to illustrate why understanding identity formation is important to history. These men appear to articulate one identity—as assimilated Americans—but their names and their stories manifest an identity as Indians who belong to Robeson County. Our interpretation of their history changes when we understand the full complexity of their identities. Much of the historical literature on Indian ethnicity has implicitly defined an Indian as an individual who is racially different from American immigrant groups, who has a historical, continuous attachment...

Native Hawaiian Decolonization and the Politics of Gender

Unbeknownst to most Americans—and even those within American studies—there is a thriving independence movement taking place in the Hawaiian Islands today. It was borne out of an unlawful U.S.backed overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom in 1893, and is currently in opposition to a proposal for U.S. federal recognition of a Native Hawaiian Governing Entity, which would transform Hawaiians’ political status in damaging ways. U.S. senator Daniel Akaka (D-HI) first proposed the legislation in 2000 to recognize Hawaiians as “Native Americans” with a political trust relationship to the United States—similar to that of American Indians. 1 Akaka’s initiative followed the U.S. Supreme Court ruling in Rice v. Cayetano that found Native Hawaiian–only voting in trustee elections for the state’s Office of Hawaiian Affairs to be unconstitutional. 2 Even though the ruling was made only on the basis of the Fifteenth Amendment, state programs and federal funding targeting Native Hawaiians are under threat by lawsuits challenging their legitimacy on the basis of the Fourteenth Amendment’s equal protection. But none of those suits has met with success in the courts; what they have managed to do is terrify Native Hawaiians, especially the poorest—some of whom live on Hawaiian Home Lands (congressionally allotted homesteads), while others survive on the beaches. Senator Akaka and proponents of the federal proposal argue that this status change would offer protection against these constitutional challenges and afford Native Hawaiians the rights currently accorded other indigenous peoples in the United States, albeit precariously. However, the legislative proposal paves the way for the global settlement of outstanding Hawaiian land claims and further undercuts the right to selfdetermination under international law protocols for decolonization. When one looks at the history of U.S. federal recognition for indigenous domestic dependent nations, it is clear that there are some guarantees that would come along with the passage of the bill. These include extinguishing the Hawaiian people’s title to the Hawaiian Kingdom Crown and Government Lands—a title that heretofore has not been relinquished, as acknowledged

Feeble Echoes of the Heart: A Postcolonial Legal Struggle in Hawai`i

This article analyzes the legal discourse of native Hawaiians opposed to proposed federal recognition. We argue that this contemporary contest over the means of self-determination reveals the ways in which law and rights provide inescapable idioms for indigenous sovereignty at the same time that they form the primary obstacles that must be overcome. Strategic maneuvering through this postcolonial legal dilemma is shown to produce new ideas of law's authority, challenging dominant notions of place and time, as well as the performance of legal recognition.

Compass of Compassion: Reflections on a Choctaw Vision of Alliances and Unrecognized Peoples Following Katrina

The word tragedy can hardly signify the extent of the pain being suffered by many in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. While America comes to grips with the enormity of the despair, people, many of them Black, in the previously unheard of Ninth Ward of New Orleans (one of the country’s most impoverished ghettos) already understand the touch, taste, and sound of generations of poverty. A poverty created by a very real caste system, which exists here in the United States of America. And Indians are no exception. Indian country has its own Ninth Ward of . . . individuals and families who have been some of the hardest hit over the course of the past week. . . . As communities of primarily impoverished and identifiable Indian people, we have never had the best of what America has to offer. The prosperity parade doesn’t march down the roads of our communities. And neither will assistance. Our lack of federal recognition has placed us at the mercy of federal bureaucrats and the Bureau of Indian Affairs. We are the neglected of the neglected. You see, it is easy to forget about people, when you marginalize them and pretend they no longer exist. Just ask the people in New Orleans Ninth Ward.1

Fishing for Gold: The Story of Alabama's Catfish Industry

With a wonderful ear for dialogue and in flowing narrative style, Karni Perez weaves together oral histories collected from early hatchery owners, catfish farmers, processors, and researchers to recount the important contributions made by Alabamians to the channel catfish industry. Perez describes the struggles and glories of fish culture from its early days as an experimental venture to the thriving present-day commercial enterprise that supplies warmwater fish for the American food industry. As Perez states, catfish industry started out in Alabama as a do-it-yourself and figure-it-out-yourself kind of enterprise. We hear how men who were mostly cattle farmers learned to nudge male and female fish into spawning in crudely constructed aquaria, how growers discovered the dissolved oxygen needs of their herd when big die-offs occurred, how Lenson Montz and Otis Breland designed the first paddle aerator to remedy the problem, how farmers eventually trained a bottomfeeding species to rise to the water surface to eat so their numbers could be better estimated. In one dramatic story, we learn how an early processor experimenting with a skinning machine lost a piece of his hand in front of a crowd of horrifield locals but, after it was retrieved from the skin basket, it was reattached by a town doctor and healed perfectly. The machine was modified accordingly and became an essential component of modern fish processing. In addition to telling the remarkable stories of individual contributions by farmers and researchers, Perez explains the positive effects played by improved public infrastructure, continued biological research, state legislation, and federal recognition of aquaculture as agriculture. From Chapter Three: You're crazy, the bank officer declared with a friendly chuckle. Why, the Warrior River is full of catfish for anyone who wants them. There are more in there than people will ever eat. And you think you're going to go sell them when folks can go get them for nothing? That's just a bunch of dreams! From Chapter Two: A crop duster's error, a visit by a curious feed company researcher, a fluke of the weather, a coincidental encounter at a gas station...How could the three men, or anyone else for that matter, guess that these chance circumstances would play into the birth of an industry that would mushroom over the next forty or so years into one of the largest contributors to the state's economy and that of the entire southeastern United States?

Who Would Claim to Be That, Who Was Not? Evaluations of an Ethnic Validation Procedure

We investigated the fairness implications of a procedure designed to validate ethnic membership. In addition, procedural justifications, or justifications before the procedure were tested as the rationale for the procedure introduced. Of 2 procedural justifications—the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) and the National Science Foundation (NSF)—the NSF justification was hypothesized as being perceived as more fair. Results showed that procedures designed to validate ethnic membership were evaluated as unfair under most conditions. Additionally, results indicated that procedural justifications influenced evaluations of the degree of fairness of the procedure. Implications for Lumbee American Indian Federal recognition are discussed.

A 'strange multiplicity' of voices

Cultural resource laws mandate the management and stewardship of archaeological sites located on federal property within the USA. Consultation with the appropriate stakeholders — usually local tribes — is an important component of this stewardship mandate. While the process of consultation is often routine, complexities arise when consultation concerns a site of contested heritage with multiple and interdependent stakeholding voices. Additionally, continuing manifestations of colonialism, such as the federal recognition process and stereotypical views of Native American authenticity, profoundly shape the stewardship landscape. The following article uses a site of heritage in the Pacific Northwest to explore the complex interplay between stewardship, stakeholders, and the continuing effects of colonial contact.

2006 AHC Conference on Chiropractic History

The Association for the History of Chiropractic (AHC) held its 26th annual Conference on Chiropractic History in conjunction with the centennial anniversary homecoming of the National University of Health Sciences in Lombard, Illinois. Several original papers were presented (Table ​(Table11). Table 1 Papers Presented at the AHC Conference on Chiropractic History The AHC's annual prize for the best paper was awarded to Jonathan Todd Egan, DC and his coauthors for their investigation of chiropractors' role in the American Public Health Association. Most of the papers presented at the conference have been or will be published in the AHC's scholarly journal, Chiropractic History. This year the Association bestowed its Lee-Homewood Chiropractic Heritage Award upon Orval L. Hidde, DC, JD for his lifetime contributions to the profession and most especially for his role in securing federal recognition of the Council on Chiropractic Education (today's CCE-USA) from the US Office of Education in 1974 (Fig. ​(Fig.1).1). Also honored at this year's conference were two of AHC cofounders: Herbert K. Lee, DC and James M. Russell, DC. Figure 1 AHC President Art Lensgraf, DC (left) presents the 2006 Lee-Homewood Chiropractic Heritage Award for lifetime contributions to the profession to Orval L. Hidde, DC, JD during the National University's centennial homecoming banquet. Newly elected officers of the AHC are: Jerry Ray Willis, DC, president; Bart N. Green, DC, MSEd, first vice president; William Holmberg, DC, second vice president; and Kenneth J. Young, DC, DACBR, secretary. Immediate Past President Arthur Lensgraf, DC will continue to serve on the society's executive board. Glenda C. Wiese, PhD continues as executive director of the organization and John Willis, MA, DC was re-appointed editor of the AHC's journal, Chiropractic History. Stepping down from the board after many years of dedicated service as board member and officer was P. Reginald Hug, MDiv, DC. Re-elected to the AHC's board of directors was Joe Keating, PhD; newly elected to the board was Norris Erickson, DC of Aurora, Illinois; each will serve terms of 3 years. Continuing members of the board of directors are Carl S. Cleveland III, DC; Ed McKenzie, DC; Kenneth Padgett, DC; and N. Ray Tuck, Jr., DC. The board of directors announced that next year's AHC Conference on Chiropractic History will be held in Portugal in conjunction with the WFC Congress/ECU Convention—Vilamoura, Portugal, May 17–19, 2007. Details of the 2007 Conference will be available at the AHC's Web site: www.historychiropractic.org. The AHC will also be present at the March 2007 ACC/RAC meeting in Scottsdale, Arizona. The AHC is a nonprofit, membership society founded at Spears Hospital in Denver in 1980. Our mission is the discovery, dissemination, and preservation of the saga of chiropractic. Conferences are held yearly. Chiropractic History is distributed to all members of the AHC as a membership benefit. Membership in the AHC can be obtained by sending your name, address, and check for annual dues of $75 ($30/year for students) to the AHC's executive director: Glenda Wiese, PhD, Association for the History of Chiropractic, 1000 Brady Street, Davenport IA 52803 (Wiese_G@palmer.edu).

Forgotten Tribes: Unrecognized Indians and the Federal Acknowledgment Process

The Federal Acknowledgment Process (FAP) is one of the most important and contentious issues facing Native Americans today. A complicated system of criteria and procedures, the FAP is utilized by federal officials to determine whether a Native community qualifies for federal recognition by the United States government. In Forgotten Tribes, Mark Edwin Miller offers a balanced and detailed look at the origins, procedures, and assumptions governing the FAP. His work examines the FAP through the prism of four previously unrecognized tribal communities and their battles to gain indigenous rights under federal law. Based on a wealth of interviews and original research, Forgotten Tribes features the first in-depth history and overview of the FAP and sheds light on this controversial Native identification policy involving state power over Native peoples and tribal sovereignty. Mark Edwin Miller is an assistant professor of history at Southern Utah University.

Epistemological Frameworks, Homosexuality, and Religion: A Response to Hodge

In his recent article in this journal Epistemological Frameworks, Homosexuality, and Religion: How People of Faith Understand the Intersection between Homosexuality and Religion, David Hodge argued that Christians are disenfranchised in the culture and in the work profession because of the intellectual and power of progressives, whom he described as including men and lesbians, feminists, atheists, and metaphysical relativists (2005, p. 208). Following Hunter's (1991) distinctions between orthodox and progressive ideology, Hodge posits that progressives hold hegemonic power in the culture based on their domination of the centers of power, such as the entertainment industry, news media, helping professions, and perhaps most notably, education (p. 209). I wonder whether Hodge has been apprised of the and political power of what is commonly known as the Christian Coalition, group of conservative Christians who have unparalleled access to broadcast media, including talk radio and television news stations. These outlets of popular culture are considerably more powerful shapers of the social narratives that inform the broader society, than the progressives so troubling to Hodge. These popular media outlets tend to reflect the viewpoint of conservative, rather than progressive thought. Conservative Christians' power in shaping our government, as well as our narratives, was aptly demonstrated by the last presidential election. An example of the national platform that traditional Christians have found for their ideas was the recent statement of President Bush, an avowed devout Christian, affirming his support for intelligent design as theory of human creation. The president believes that intelligent design should be taught along with evolution in the nation's public schools, saying that both sides ought to be properly taught, even though much of the scientific establishment, including the president's own science adviser, has argued that intelligent design is not tested scientific theory. Richard Land, president of The Ethics & Religious Liberty Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention, noted after Bush's remarks, It's what I've been pushing, it's what lot of us have been pushing (Bumiller, 2005, p. A14). The point here is that the ideas Hodge claims are being marginalized by the so-called progressives are well represented in the highest strata of political and power in the country. The White House has unparalleled ability to shape public opinion, far more so than metropolitan newspapers such as The New York Times, paper Hodge and like-minded individuals single out as being in thrall to the progressive point of view (Alterman, 2003). Despite the clear indications of the power of traditional Christians to shape national politics as well as reality, Hodge calls the Christian perspective a limited, minority viewpoint in national discourse (p. 211). After making these and other sweeping and specious arguments about the power of progressive thought, Hodge focused on his central thesis: the Christian belief that homosexual behavior is morally wrong is not allowed fair hearing, either nationally, or most significantly, in the work profession. As far as the national agenda is concerned, traditional Christians, as Hodge calls them, could only have been cheered by the passage of the Defense of Marriage Act (P.L. 104-199) in 1996, which forbade federal recognition of gay and lesbian marriage, regardless of whether individual states allow such marriages. Here is clear example of the lack of power of the so-called Progressive Coalition. Traditional Christian viewpoints about marriage also are central to this administration's efforts to tie marriage promotion funds to TANF reauthorization. The heterosexist bias of these two federal measures, along with federally funded abstinence-only campaigns targeted to adolescents that ignore the needs of gay and lesbian adolescents for sex education, privileges the beliefs and values of traditional Christians over progressives (Levin-Epstein, 2005; Lind, 2004). …

Out of the Woods: The Making of the Maine Indian Claims Settlement Act

“Maine appears out of the woods,” the editor of the Lewiston Evening Journal opined, after President Jimmy Carter signed the Maine Indian Claims Settlement Act in 1980.1 That sigh of relief was heartfelt. During the 1970s, two Native American tribes, the Passamaquoddies and Penobscots, had sparked a long, statewide nightmare when they asserted claim to more than twelve million acres of land in the Pine Tree State. To the Indians, their claim and the ensuing settlement represented long-delayed justice. For privateproperty owners, however, the controversy unleashed great anxiety about the future of Maine’s economy. To leaders in the Maine statehouse, Congress, and the White House, the matter was a conundrum pitting the demands of an aggrieved racial minority against the ire of an aroused white majority. When Congress, in 1980, granted the Passamaquoddies and Penobscots federal recognition and $81.5 million in cash, from which they could purchase up to three hundred thousand acres of land, all sides breathed easier. The land claims of these tribes form a compelling, albeit overlooked (by historians), story that illustrates three larger themes.2 The first involves the Native American rights movement, whose leadership and tactics proved quite diverse. Along with elected leaders located on federal reservations and urban-based “Red Power” radicals—the founders of the American Indian Movement (AIM)—it included a new generation of university-educated activists who worked with tribal officials to reclaim Indian land, fishing, and water rights through lawsuits.3 One columnist noted that “the trend among most of the Western tribes seems to be toward organizing for court action and away from violent protest.”4 It was a similar story in the East, where Indians, lacking both federal recognition and extensive reservations, had little to lose by suing in court.5

So Long

So Long Sidner Larson (bio) During one of the telephone conversations we used to have, Uncle Vine admonished me to tackle federal Indian law from my perspective, so I did. In "Making Sense of Federal Indian Law" (Wicazo Sa Review 20, no. 1 [Spring 2005]: 9–21), I began by citing his caution about the legal system and other things, such as Indian-run gaming. I was reminded of this when I recently read about the billion-dollar divide between Connecticut's Indians, where the residents of the run-down Eastern Pequot reservation can look up and see a glow in the sky from the massive Foxwoods Resort Casino, where the neighboring Mashantucket Pequot Indians—separated from the Easterns by a 1638 treaty, a short stretch of road, and an enormous difference in good fortune—pull in more than $800 million a year on slots alone. Unfortunately, within the last 18 months, the Eastern Pequots and three other would-be casino tribes have seen their bids for federal recognition rejected. Such division, to Vine Deloria Jr., represented the worst kind of evil, and he was not shy about saying so. At the same time, as others have noted, he was able to offer criticism in a way that caused people not only to listen but often to laugh in good-natured acceptance. As tribal people work to reconstruct their worlds, such a voice was and is crucial, and it will be an even greater challenge to address the issues before us without it. Law, business, science, and education were disciplines over which Vine ranged freely, recognizing that they all meddled in Indian affairs and were destined to play a part in a common [End Page 179] American Indian destiny. Although it appears Indian gaming will play a large role in the evolution of the present presidential administration, and may even bring it to a halt, education was the last subject he and I discussed, and it was our most frequent topic. Although he always said these things much better, in part because of his trademark saltiness, I remember some of our topics of conversation, in part because I was always interested in his take on how to understand and what to do. For example, at present, American Indian studies exists in various incarnations located somewhere between ongoing colonial suppression of tribal colleges (their most logical home) and the fragmentation imposed by mainstream university departments who often "host" them. AIS is also often not well defined in terms of form or content, which is probably common to any emerging discipline, but there are other areas of concern as well. One is the mainstream university preference for putative American Indian academics who, in too many cases, have only tenuous connections to both American Indian studies and Indian people. Another problem is the common mainstream university policy of the "joint appointment," where, although hired as American Indian studies specialists, faculty members are forced to belong to a "home department," often anthropology, English, or religious studies. These arrangements are an atrocity almost always resulting in an impossible situation for those who attempt to focus on the American Indian side of their appointment. Suppression of tribal colleges is administered by the infamous bureaucracy of the federal government, an entity that acts like an alcoholic parent: the tease of funding, the broken promises, the reinforcement of negative self-identity, and the constant destabilization are all part of the burden of survival for educational institutions in tribal communities. Practically everybody knows about the "glass ceiling" as applied to the Other (usually women) in the business world; however, the idea can be extended to the academic world, where, although the appearance of liberty and justice for all is important, they are anathema in actual practice. For example, although it is clear the underlying problem is enforced poverty, conservative policymakers have instead attacked teachers as incompetent and lazy. These policymakers, few of whom are trained in education, have initiated programs such as No Child Left Behind and the less obvious requirements that schools add daycare and food-service work to the work of teaching reading, writing, and arithmetic. The result of this withholding of resources is an overextension of...

Standing Tall: The Lifeway of Kathryn Jones Harrison, Chair of the Confederated Tribes of the Grand Ronde Community by Kristine Olson

_REVIEWS STANDINGTALL: THE LIFEWAY OF KATHRYN JONES HARRISON, CHAIR OF THECONFEDERATED TRIBES OF THE GRAND RONDECOMMUNITY by KristineOlson Oregon Historical Society Press, Portland, in association with University of Washington Press, Seattle, 2005. Photographs, maps, notes, bibliography, index. 272 pages. $23.95 paper. In 1970,Kathryn JonesHarrison hit bottom, beaten down by a lifetimeof punishing blows. For her, the crucibles of pain and sorrow had never been far in the background. She was born intopoverty and lostboth ofher parents sixdays apart ina fluepidemic, a scourge that reappeared a decade later and claimed her twenty-three-year-old older sister. She suffered sexual abuse at thehands of her fosterfather, tookher education inan off-reservationIndian boarding school, and was married too young toan abusive, alcoholic classmate.An itinerant worker andmother of ten children, she spent twentyyears hanging on by the thinnest of threads, an experience so excruciating shehas repressedmost memories of it.Surpassing the magnitude of thosemiseries was the most ago nizing hurt of all, thedeaths of twoofher sons. Harrison s realization that she would have to sever ties with her husband of over thirty years demarcated the end of thefirst major stage of her lifeand her ascendancy into the second. Weary of livingon the margins and drowning in a relationship of booze and dependency, Harrison decided to strikeout on her own in search of a futurethatofferedat least thehint of something better. Harrison may have reached low ebb,but in the wisdom ofErnestHemingway in A Farewell to Arms, shehad been made "strong at thebro ken places," her trialshaving uniquely prepared her forthechallenges that layahead. At theage of forty-eight,she embarked on a journey that began as a personal quest to provide forher children and ended with her achieving public status as one of themost prominent and ef fective Indian leaders inOregon, the Pacific Northwest, and the country. Harrison's personal life corresponded to theperiod ofAmerican Indian history known as "Self-Determination." A 1942 graduate of Chemawa Indian School, she enrolled inLane Community College inEugene, Oregon, and earned a degree innursing. But her truecalling was not healthcare. Drawing on the influence ofher father, a descendant of the Molalla Chief Yel-kus who had been selected by theGrand Rondes to testifybefore congressional lead ers on the Indian Reorganization Act in 1934, and the resourcefulness ofMolalla Kate, her namesake and great-great-aunt who had been employed as a nanny for Dr. John McLoughlin as a teenager, Harrison assisted theSiletzTribe ofwestern Oregon in its successful campaign for tribal restoration. She ran for and won a seat on the Siletz Tribal Council, holding the position of secretary. Not feelingtotallyaccepted in thatcommu nity ? her father'sfamily was fromSiletz,but he had been enrolled atGrand Ronde? Har risonmoved north in 1981and emerged again as a tireless and formidable leader, laboring literallynight and day forGrand Ronde tribal recognition, which was granted in1983.Eventu allyoccupying theofficesofvice chairman and chairman on thetribalcouncil,Harrison served for nearly two decades. She shepherded the Grand Rondes through the critical process of acquiring a landbase and oversaw construction of the tribe'seconomic lifeblood,Spirit Moun tainCasino, one of the most successfulgaming operations on thePacific Coast today. Standing Tall joins an expanding anthology of contemporary biographies that document Reviews 461 the inestimable contributions ofAmerican In dianwomen inthetwentiethcentury. Although the lifehistory of each of these trailblazers is unique and relevant to their own experiences, they are bound by the capacity to confront and conquer the crudest of adversities. Kris tine Olson swrenchingly poignant retelling of thebitterdisappointments Harrison knew, contrastedwith her fearlessdetermination and perseverance, reminds readers of the coura geous response of another Chemawa graduate, the late Hazel Pete, a renowned Chehalis basket maker and cultural leader.Harrison spolitical acumen and prodigious powers of persua sion were not unlike those of the longtime Stillaguamish council chairwoman, Esther Ross, whose adult life was devoted to achiev ing federal recognition of her tribe.Harrison, Haida elder Florence Davidson, and Makah elder Helma Swan all negotiated the domi nant culturewhile never forsaking theirown tribal cultures. Perhaps more than any other, Harrison s lifeclosely paralleled thatof Wilma Mankiller, theprincipal chiefof theCherokee Nation ofOklahoma from 1985 to 1995.Each rebounded from shattered personal circum stances ?hardscrabble beginnings, failed mar riages, singlemotherhood, limited educations...

Military Medical History: The American Civil War

War and medicine are two of society's more powerful forces and their impact on each other is a significant part of his tory (i). In American history the two greatest examples are the Second World War and the Civil War. However, the impact of war on medicine, on the one hand, and medicine on war, on the other, is multifaceted. The Second World War can serve as a brief example. That war brought antibiotics, led by penicillin, to public awareness as one of the several contributions of science that encouraged American society to invest in scientific re search in the postwar years. Penicillin had a dramatic impact on the care of soldiers and was partially responsible for the reduction in the number of troops who died of wounds in the European Theater of Operations, from 4 percent of casualties to about 2.5 percent by war's end. There were similar reciprocal ef fects in non-scientific innovations, the best example being the im pact on specialization. At the beginning of the Second World War the Army Medical Depart ment requested the cooperation of new spe cialty boards in selecting qualified physicians for the expanding military hospital system. The re suit was that board certified specialists received jobs in general hospitals, while non-boarded practitioners were given lower ranking operational medical jobs closer to the hostile action. Sick and wounded troops in all branches of the armed services were cared for by specialists, and doctors perceived that society valued specialists more highly than generalists. After the war, physicians pursued specialty training in unprecedented numbers and patients began to look to specialists for treatment. The va riety of social changes needed to facilitate this shift from generalist to specialist care?including expanded health insurance, more hospitals, and more specialty training slots?were all encouraged by wartime deci sions and experiences. The Civil War is in some ways more difficult to study than World War II because the medicine is less clear and familiar; the medical ideas of the mid-nineteenth century were in transition from the ancient to the modern. The Civil War, however, had a profound impact on medi cine in late nineteenth century America and in many ways facilitated the shift to recogniz ably modern medical practices (2). To begin with, medicine in the United States in i860 was exceeding diverse. The monolithic profes sion of the twentieth century can be seen in embryonic form, but it hardly dominated early industrial culture. The formal profession as recognized by the U.S. Army, however, was the ancient medical tradi tion called regular or allopathic, recognized by the M.D. degree and based in a rationalistic reductionism of experi mental science. The chief advantage of the federal recognition of their regular profes sion was that other forms of practitioners could not claim the heritage of service to the nation in its hour of great need. In retrospect, it was not so much that the physicians were obviously effective as it was that they were there and their competitors were not. The first major battle?at Bull Run in northern Virginia?was a medical as well as a military disaster. The walking wounded some ^^^^^B^^^^^^^H^fKBI^B?^BPi?l^^B^^BH?^^

Perceptions of the Process: Indian Gaming as it Affects Federal Tribal Acknowledgment Law and Practices*

This paper places federal acknowledgment practices within a context of expanding Indian gaming. It argues that gaming has changed the discourses around tribal acknowledgment in the general public, at the Bureau of Indian Affairs, and in inter‐ and intra‐tribal politics. Ethnographic and archival research show that, while gaming has proven to be a highly effective development strategy, it has also given rise to backlash against, and suspicion towards, Indian groups seeking recognition of their tribal status. The intersection of acknowledgment practices with public perceptions about Indian gaming has resulted in an increased politicization of the administrative process for federal recognition.

Why Scientific Research must Guide Educational Policy and Instructional Practices in Learning Disabilities

SOME BACKGROUND When I initiated my research program in the neuropsychology of learning disabilities (LDs) in 1974, I was guided in part by the scholarship of William Cruickshank, Helmer Myklebust, Doris Johnson, and Samuel Kirk, among others. These gifted pioneers made an indelible impact on my thinking and my research over the years. I found compelling their clinical insights about children who had significant reading problems (and other academic problems) despite robust intellectual capability, since I worked with many such children as a psychologist in the public schools. I also learned a great deal from them about the instructional skills that teachers must possess in order to address individual differences in learning. I was particularly fascinated by this concept of unexpected underachievement and the paradox of learning difficulties in an intellectually competent student. Misguided Assumptions As I became interested in this concept of unexpected underachievement, I was struck by the heterogeneity of reading difficulties that I observed in schools. When I began my research career, I focused on this heterogeneity and asked whether children identified with LDs in reading could be assigned to more homogeneous subtypes, with each subtype described by different reading-related deficits. My goal, if I found subtypes, was to then identify and validate subtype-by-treatment interactions. Unfortunately, my search for valid subtypes and interactions with different treatments was unsuccessful for several reasons. Fundamentally, my work was based on scientifically untested assumptions underlying the construct of LDs: I assumed that the definition of LDs at that time was valid and I assumed that LDs was a distinct category of disability that could be differentiated empirically from other categories through psychometric (e.g., IQ-achievement discrepancies) and exclusionary criteria. I was wrong on both counts, but I figured I might not be alone in making these assumptions. At the same time, it was clear to me that the field had made significant contributions by bringing special education services to students with LDs--services that had previously been denied. By 1969, parental and professional advocacy resulted in federal recognition of LDs and access to due process to ensure a free and appropriate public education. However, it troubled me that federal policy may have been based on the same flawed assumptions that I had made. While I did not have any doubts that LDs constituted a genuine category of exceptionality, I came to realize that the definition of LDs, instantiated in federal legislation, was based upon clinical observations and anecdotal evidence rather than replicated scientific evidence. Lessons Learned To make myself feel better I could make the excuse that my faulty assumptions were based on the knowledge of LDs available at the time. But that doesn't cut it. In hindsight, I should have broadened my view of LDs beyond the literature specific to the field and my training (experimental and physiological psychology, learning disabilities), and turned to the literatures in the developmental, cognitive, linguistic, psychometric and classification sciences as well. When I eventually did examine these sources in depth, I learned a great deal about individual differences, principles of classification, continuous distributions, the vagaries of establishing cut points along the normal distribution, and the fact that there were significant problems with the notion that IQ scores are valid predictors of learning potential. I learned that a comparison of IQ scores with achievement scores to derive a discrepancy as a marker for LDs is fraught with psychometric, statistical, and conceptual problems that render the putative relationship between the scores unreliable and meaningless (see Steubing et al., 2002, for a review of these issues). In addition, I learned that using a discrepancy metric in the identification of LDs may harm children more than it helps, not only because criteria are inconsistent across states and schools, but also because a discrepancy typically requires failure to occur (i. …

Sacajawea's people: the Lemhi Shoshones and the Salmon River country

On October 20, 2001, a crowd gathered just east of Salmon, Idaho, to dedicate the site of the Sacajawea Interpretive, Cultural, and Education Center, in preparation for the Lewis and Clark Bicentennial. In a bitter instance of irony, the American Indian peoples conducting the ceremony dedicating the land to the tribe, the city of Salmon, and the nation - the Lemhi Shoshones, Sacajawea's own people - had been removed from their homeland nearly a hundred years earlier and had yet to regain official federal recognition as a tribe. John W. W. Mann's book at long last tells the remarkable and inspiring story of the Lemhi Shoshones, from their distant beginning to their present struggles. Mann offers an absorbing and richly detailed look at the life of Sacajawea's people before their first contact with non-Natives, their encounter with the Lewis and Clark Expedition in the early nineteenth century, and their subsequent confinement to a reservation in northern Idaho near the town of Salmon. He follows the Lemhis from the liquidation of their reservation in 1907 to their forced union with the Shoshone-Bannock tribes of the Fort Hall Reservation to the south. He describes how for the past century, surrounded by more populous and powerful Native tribes, the Lemhis have fought to preserve their political, economic, and cultural integrity. His compelling and informative account should help to bring Sacajawea's people out of the long shadow of history and restore them to their rightful place in the American story. John W. W. Mann is a visiting assistant professor in the Department of History at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire.

Precarious Positions: Native Hawaiians and US Federal Recognition

This essay examines the politics of the controversial proposal for US federal recognition for Native Hawaiians. It explores a range of historical and legal issues that shed light on the multiple claims that constitute the complex terrain of Hawaiian sovereignty politics. The article provides a historical overview of the events that impact the current situation and then discusses a particular set of contemporary conditions that serve as key elements in catalyzing widespread support for federal recognition—namely, the implications of the recent US Supreme Court ruling in Rice v Cayetano and subsequent legal challenges to Native Hawaiian programs and funding by the US government. It also highlights difficulties with the promise of federal recognition as a solution to "the Hawaiian problem" by looking at lessons from Indian Country, Native Alaska, and the Pacific—especially the US unincorporated territories. Finally, the essay explores the independence movement as an alternative to domestic dependent nationhood.

A Conversation with Mililani Trask

Mililani Trask was born into the world of politics and struggle for Native Hawaiian and human rights. Her grandfather, David Trask, was an early member of the Hawai'i Democratic Party, the first Hawaiian sheriff in Honolulu, and a member of the Territorial Legislature for twenty-six years. Her maternal grandmother, Maui-born Iwalani Haia, was one of the first women to organize the Benevolent Societies on Maui and played a key role in the movement to inform Hawaiians of the events surrounding the overthrow of Queen Lili'uokalani in 1893. Mililani is the niece ofArthur Trask, well-known orator, lawyer, and politician, and David Trask, Jr, a politician and a key player in labor organizing and collective bargaining for higher wages and better working conditions for public workers. Mililani is descended from the Pi'ilani line of Maui and the Kahakumakaliua line of Kaua'i. Born and raised on O'ahu, the fourth of five children of Bernard and Haunani Trask, Mililani was educated at the Kamehameha Schools. Following her graduation in 1969, she attended the University of Redlands and San Jose State University in California. In 1977, Mililani returned home with a law degree from Santa Clara University. In 1990, Mililani became the first elected kia'āina or governor of Ka Lāhui Hawai'i, a Hawaiian nation formed in response to the United States' colonial dominance. She was a prominent figure in the Hawaiian political spotlight for over eight years during her leadership of Ka Lāhui Hawai'i. In 1993, she served on the prestigious Indigenous Initiative for Peace under the direction of Nobel Laureate Rigoberta Menchu-Tum, the United Nations' Goodwill Ambassador to the UN Decade on Indigenous Peoples. And, in 1995, Mililani became the second vice-chair of the General Assembly of Nations of the Unrepresented Nations and Peoples Organizations, [End Page 142] founded in 1991 by his holiness, the Dalai Lama, as an alternative forum to the United Nations. Then, in 1998, Mililani won a coveted seat on the Board of Trustees of the Office of Hawaiian Affairs (oha), the quasi-governmental organization formed in the 1978 Hawai'i Constitutional Convention. She was elected by the largest number of Hawaiian votes cast in any election since oha's inception. The Office of Hawaiian Affairs is an organization that has been the object of attack by independence-minded Hawaiian nationalists since its creation. In 2000, after the Rice decision forced the mass resignation of the oha board members and opened the election process to non-Hawaiians,1 Mililani lost her bid for reelection. She is an advocate of peace and has studied and worked with Mother Theresa of Calcutta for seven years. She founded the Native Hawaiian nongovernmental organization Nā Koa Ikaika o Ka Lāhui Hawai'i, which worked in the international arena on the Draft Declaration for Indigenous Peoples and the World Conference on Racism for the last fifteen years. Today, she has a reputation as an expert on international and human rights law and is a much sought after speaker on native issues. She is currently serving as the Pacific representative on the UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues, based in New York. Mililani and her sister, University of Hawai'i at Mānoa Professor Haunani-Kay Trask, are outspoken critics of the current movement for the establishment of US federal recognition for Native Hawaiians, symbolized by the "Akaka Bill."2 The original interview took place on 9 July 2003, with follow-up discussions between then and April 2004. Our first meeting took place in Mililani's Hilo office at the Gibson Foundation, a nonprofit organization founded in 1987 to support housing for Native Hawaiians. She focuses on assisting kūpuna or elders in the community by providing advice and project support for home construction and repair. This, she feels, is her life's purpose, working selflessly, without pay for her community. The initial interview lasted for three hours and covered a...