Attention, colonized Indians
Not sure you’re a colonized Indian? Ask the nearest reformed colonized Indian or take this little test.
Is your idea of Indian art an “End of the Trail” painting on velvet?
Is your idea of Indian identity a sports team mascot or an Indian Barbie?
Do you wake up every morning staring into the vapidness of a “dream catcher” or some other New Age nightmare?
If you answered yes to any of these questions, it’s a good bet that you are a colonized Indian.
Now the question is, do you want to leave the colonized Indian life behind? Do you want to become decolonized?
You don’t have to decolonize all at once. In fact, it could be dangerous to suddenly stop being a deculturalized white wannabe. Growing your hair, speaking your language, dancing with wolves – too much of everything at the same time could prove a strain.
Through these simple Twelve Steps to Decolonization, you can begin slowly and move gradually from quasi-dependence through semi-sovereignty to self-governmenting.
It is hard to kick the old habits and withstand the enticements of colonization.
But, through the Twelve Steps to Decolonization, there will be other colonized Indians to help you make it though the trip to town or those long conference nights. Yes, your new friends will be there to make fun of you and tell everyone back home when they catch you being a token Indian or acting like a mascot.
Here’s all you have to do to start. Repeat after me: I am a colonized Indian.
Hi, colonized Indian.
Okay. That’s a swell start. Now, let’s read through the Twelve Steps to Decolonization and you’re on your way.
1.I once was powerless over the Indian trust funds colonization by Ross O. Swimmer and J. Steven Griles, and the federal government kept getting richer from Indian money and I kept getting poorer.
2.I came to believe that there are powers greater than Gail A. Norton and John Ashcroft and that my property is not their trust corpus.
3.I turned over the bad men (and women) to Judge Royce Lamberth and he has set me free (even though the feds are still spending the loot) to focus on decolonization.
4.I will make an inventory of all my Indian kitsch and put it on a Mantle of Shame, where I can confront my former colonization daily with a clear and sober eye.
5.I admit to all my long-suffering friends and relatives that I’ve been wrong and apologize for shaming them out, and I just hope that some of them get it that they are way wrong, too.
6.I am ready to get rid of my defective language of colonization. I will stop using the word “squaw” for any woman, place, dance, food or article of clothing. I will stop using the term “grave goods” when I mean the sacred objects buried with our dear relatives. I will give up saying “tribe” and will start saying “n-n-n-n-n-nation.”
7.I am ready to get rid of all the trappings of colonization. I will stop eating “frybread” and other white flour and lard products in favor of our traditional foods.
8.I will teach my children that you don’t have to drink to be Indian.
9.I will teach my grandchildren that you don’t have to be poor to be Indian, but you still have to keep the generous spirit of the give-away tradition. I will teach them that there are a lot of generous non-Indians in the world, but there are many Indian haters following in their ancestors’ footprints in moccasins we can’t afford.
10.I will make a list of all the books, plays, movies and songs by Indian writers, filmmakers and musicians, and start reading, seeing and listening to some of them.
11.I will urge my nation to start hiring Indian lawyers, law enforcement officers and other professionals, and to stop listening to the non-Indians on the payroll who urge differently.
12.I will date a Native person or at least not walk 10 paces behind my non-Native sweetheart.
Go, colonized Indian. Go and earn your feather. But, there’s one last thing.
Before you go to sleep at night, say this: may I have the strength to resist going to sports events and doing the tomahawk chop, the serenity to take part in traditional ceremonies and the wisdom to know the difference.
Do this and you won’t miss your “dream catcher” so much.
Suzan Shown Harjo, Cheyenne and Hodulgee Muscogee, is president of the Morning Star Institute in Washington, D.C., and a columnist for Indian Country Today.
