Dr. Gary Mounce

EDINBURG, Aug. 29 - Tejas, the origin of our state’s name, came from the Caddo, a coastal Texas tribe, word for “friendly.”

Often the friendship was not reciprocated. You may have studied with a progressive professor, learning how European immigrants treated Native Americans. Their food source, the buffalo, was slaughtered. Deliberate genocide included blankets impregnated with small pox and ground glass in sacks of grain. If your studies result in empathy, that is a good start. If you feel guilt, a book such as ‘Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee’ (Dee Brown) could provide greater wisdom and some catharsis.

But, too often, the “outrage with the past smoothes over the ease of ignoring the present.” (Chaudhuris, in de la Garza’s Chicanos and Native Americans). The present status of Native Americans nationwide is an improvement over the past, but one demanding more knowledge, concern and action. This is certainly true in Texas. Deep in east and west Texas, the Alabama-Coushatta and Kickapoo tribes struggle to maintain their own traditions and, yet, wish to have their rights and privileges as Texans and U.S. citizens recognized.

History repeats itself in various ways, often not recognized. “It was the Indians’ great misfortune to be conquered by a people intolerant of cultural diversity.” (Edgar Cahn, Our Brother’s Keeper). The Iroquois, for example, were once numerous, four million in 1492 out of as many as eighteen million total indigenous peoples. Decades later, due to forced marches, disease and genocide, few remain (Samantha Gross, Monitor, August 1, 2010). The original confederal political system of the Iroquois was sophisticated, influencing early ideas of European colonists. Today, they serve in the U.S. military and many have assimilated into American life. They are U.S. citizens but most wish to retain—as many indigenous tribes are allowed to do in many other countries—their vital cultural traditions. 

Many of the rest of us know something of these cultures. In my case, my mother taught at the famous Chilocco School in Oklahoma. I grew up amidst the Tonkawa and Ponca tribes. I rode horses with our Pawnee neighbors near my Grandfather’s farm. My friend in high school, Clyde Otipoby, Comanche artist, still teaches art in Ponca High School. Ponca is home of the fine Native American collection of the Marland Museum and is the site of an imposing statue of famous Chief Standing Bear, who argued successfully in Federal Court that Indians were “persons” under the Constitution.

I still attend pow-wows with the Kaw tribe, who just added a new community center to their school and wellness center through a HUD grant and with funds from their popular casino. I am part Cherokee. (Of course, I endured teasing disbelief from my Native American friends—“Oh, and your Great-Great-Grandmother was probably an Indian Princess, like everyone else, right?)” But, yes, I am, and have long felt a kinship, for reasons of blood, academic study and spiritual passion. 

We can never know enough. We certainly cannot allow inspiring Native American stories to be cut out of children’s’ history books. We can reflect on the humanistic, environmentally sensitive philosophies of Native Americans. We can learn about their systems of organization. They were not homogeneous. Indeed, they were once more diverse than their European conquerors. We must also study contemporary changes. Circumstances and categories today vary widely, not only among tribes but in terms of socio-political organization: reservation Indians; non reservation Indians; urban Indians; Indians without legal status, etc. Traditions as practiced and perplexing problems vary as well. Today’s tribes, despite some progress (partly thanks to funds from casinos), still face enormous problems.

Native Americans have: the lowest percentage of college graduates; the lowest family income ($10,000); the highest unemployment rates. Of the 1.9 million Native Americans, 30 percent live in poverty. Texas tribes are not much different, a shame for this wealthy state called “friendly” in Native tongue. Texas was graced by the presence of several tribes at one time. Today, two major groups are more visible and politically active. The Kickapoo, now over a thousand were forced to move frequently by the government and have split into various states. They are prominent now near Eagle Pass where they lived for a time in authentic wikiups and in El Paso. The other group is the Alabama-Coushatta, near Livingston in the Big Thicket.

From his home in east Texas, retired Forestry Engineer, Chief Clayton Sylestine, asks only dignity and jobs for his people. The Alabama-Coushatta helped settlers in early Texas and were honored by a grateful Sam Houston and Mirabeau Lamar. Today, Chief Sylestine advocates for casinos to help his over one thousand member group. They work in a lovely, unique State park; its authentic mounds are similar to those in the Midwest. But tourism, while important, is not enough. One partial solution that provides more cash and jobs would be casinos.

Before you respond critically, be aware that Native Americans and friends do have the experience and intellect to regulate casinos adequately and to manage them responsibly. Some of the usual, patronizing objections: “they” would not account for the revenues fairly; the presence of casinos would increase alcohol and gambling abuse, etc. Programs dealing with these fall-out problems would also be necessary. Are there better ideas to help Texas tribes, our own Native Americans, other than their own plans and actions which they have seen help tribes elsewhere? Great; let’s hear them. Meanwhile, how about casinos with creative improvements?

There is, of course, opposition—religious, social and personal—to gambling as there was to legalized alcohol. But prohibition solved nothing, indeed, created more problems. The fact of the matter is all the states surrounding Texas have casinos, pulling away potential revenue from the State. The tribes—and the rest of the taxpayers of the State—are losing money. Actually, according to a credible Rasmussen poll, 57 percent of Texans believe casinos would be a good way to deal with the recession and help the economy.

The U.S. Congress could help. The Federal Government allows Class III gambling establishments by Native Americans. But the Alabama-Coushatta do not live on a typical reservation; that was deeded to the State of Texas long ago. It is a Texas problem now and will take generous, thoughtful Texas solutions to fix. But Governor Perry stubbornly opposes. Part of the explanation may be the classic case of influence from outside gambling interests. Or, there may be a bigger story, as yet uncovered. But why wait for the Governor? The Legislature could resurrect the issue. But, apparently, not enough of its members are sufficiently sympathetic to Native American problems or sufficiently able to develop positive, job-oriented solutions.

Perhaps the rising number of assertive Mexican American legislators from south Texas could reflect upon their roots and take the lead. Many of them may be part Mayan, Aztec or Coahuiltecan. One does not have to have Native blood to be able to empathize. The rest of us can and should urge our representatives to take some small steps—for example, legalizing casinos—to try to change a discouraging situation. Perhaps the Native American Indian poet, David Martin Nez, expressed the hope for cooperation and improvement best with his very practical entreaty which, at the same time, is creative and honors traditions of ancestors:

“We shall learn all these devices the White Man has. We shall handle his tools for ourselves. We shall master his machinery, his inventions, his skills, his medicine, his planning: but we’ll retain our beauty. And still be Indian” (Steiner, The New Indians, cited in de la Garza).  

Dr. Gary Mounce is a professor of politics at the University of Texas-Pan American. His columns, often about Latin America, appear regularly in the Guardian. 

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