When "govenator-elect" Arnold Schwarzenegger's face filled the television screen in the weeks before the recall election to implore Californians to help him make "Indians pay their fair share" in gaming, it felt like a kick in the stomach, and the feeling of outrage inspired a new beginning for my article. There seems to be a rule when writing about contemporary social justice issues, which is that you must write quickly because something new and horrendous always overtakes your current outrage. With the new "John Wayne" in town to "clean up" the state government, we can expect him to turn his terminating powers towards Native Nations operating successful casinos. As part of this greater visibility around gaming issues in the national press, USA Today ran a front page news story entitled "The Newest Kingmakers: Indian Tribes," with a telling subtitle, "They have what it takes: Cash, votes."1 Without providing important context, the article never once references sovereign rights in explaining the issues surrounding Native gaming. How do we prevent the emergence of a new, dangerous, and misrepresentative stereotype from simply lining up next to the old ones that continue to be so pervasive and insidious in their erasure of contemporary Native reality? How can we as academics play a role in educating a public lacking critical historical knowledge of Indigenous Nations and do so in a collaborative and ethical way with Native people and communities? The USA Today article relies on the testimony of men with titles, Indians and non-Indians, to illustrate the emerging electoral power of the Native vote in states with high populations as well as the increasing influence of casino tribes on the political process. While Schwarzenegger may have just made me ill, I felt depressed when I jumped to the inside page of [End Page 840] the article to read about the 2002 South Dakota Senate race that was won by a narrow margin of the Indian vote. This was an amazing feat of get-out-the-vote grassroots organizing in which I was involved enough to know firsthand that the real story behind this historic election was the work of local women, not the titled Democratic party leaders whose cultural ignorance nearly destroyed the campaign. As a historian writing about the history of women's involvement in the Red Power Movement, it was a strong feeling of déjà vu to witness a complete reenactment of the same dynamics that made invisible the work of local people, primarily women. One woman who has occupied an often invisible role for thirty years in the media shadow of her more famous family is Madonna Thunder Hawk. Russell Means, the photographic icon of the American Indian Movement in the 1970s, has received media coverage that was for a while unparalleled. Since his time in the spotlight, he has sought out opportunities in Hollywood and the political arena that have kept his name alive. While he certainly occupies an important place in American history and his media relationship guarantees coverage of anything to which he lends his name, we must also make room for those who truly tied red power to the grassroots, returning to their communities in the decline of the movement to put into practice the revolutionary ideals of aim. Thunder Hawk and the strong women in her family have been on the front line, visible and powerful in every battle for Native rights since the late sixties; however, the camera or reporter has often overlooked their participation. The abysmally limited coverage of Indian issues by the popular media has too often had room only for the overexploited stereotype of the stoic Plains warrior. Consequently, Thunder Hawk's work as a veteran community organizer has gone largely unnoticed, not only by...
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Jan 1, 2022
Tammy Cowart 
