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Op-Docs

A Conversation With Native Americans on Race

Michèle Stephenson and

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A Conversation With Native Americans on Race

Native Americans challenge their invisibility in society.

I’m Apache, but really that’s the government’s name, because they can’t say “Dził Łigai N’dee.” They will tell me how awesome they think it is that I’ve decided to be a part of my culture. And it’s funny to me. It hits me really weird, and I don’t like it. And I didn’t know why at first, but it’s because I haven’t decided to be a part of my culture. I live it every day. I’m more comfortable with the term “native,” divorced from “Native American.” I know there are people who use “indigenous.” If there is one term I do not like to be called, it is “American Indian.” And for me, to be indigenous is to have an intimate and interconnected relationship to a homeland. And so that’s really important, because land is, you know, tied to every aspect of who we are. Being native in a city is almost a daily reminder of your people’s erasure. Of the fact that people don’t even remember that you’re here and that you exist. But what I did encounter was just this preconceived notion that all Native Americans are dead. I’ve had older white men come up to me and say, “Oh, man, if this was 40 years ago, I could just do whatever I wanted to you.” You know, the cattle outside doing the work and the dog inside the house, those are property. Those are the black folks in America. They are property to white men. Then the exotic antelope on the wall or the exotic — that’s how natives are perceived in America. We’re treated like animals. They monitor our blood quantum. I mean, besides dogs and horses, I don’t know of any other animal that they monitor the blood quantum. The way I explain it to people is, imagine a pizza with different slices, and let’s say 32 slices. Of the 32 slices, I’m 28 Apache. That’s my particular blood quantum. And Native Americans in the U.S. are the only minority group who have to prove their nativeness on an Indian card. It’s used to divide native people against each other, because it can be used as a way to say, I am more native than you. And I was a part of that, too. I used my 4 fourths to kind of make myself feel better against other people. The one drop rule, meaning that one drop of black blood makes you black, that was to keep as many people oppressed or legitimize their oppression as possible. But on the other side, one drop of anything else completely dilutes you as a native person. So if you’re a native person, you have the one drop of something else, then suddenly you’re less native. So it’s the opposite. Traditionally, within the Apache society, you go by the mother. And if the mother is recognized as Apache, she has her clan, the children are unquestionably Apache. Not in the American context, not when patriarchy trumps matriarchy. So what does that mean? My sisters are short 1/16 of a degree. What does that mean? Does it mean their pinkies aren’t Apache? What does that mean? You know, being a mixed race person is a whole other side of it, but that’s a very common experience in our tribe. So it’s not as if we’re unusual in that way. What is unusual is the admixture of black. My grandfather actually doesn’t want people — if he hears that somebody from the tribe is coming over, he won’t come out of his room. Because he doesn’t want them to know that he’s that complexion, that he doesn’t — I guess he doesn’t want me to be affiliated with having African-American blood. But I mean, I say it. It’s not going to change anything. If it were up to the American government, natives wouldn’t be around. Because after a certain time, that blood will dilute. It will go out. And so if there’s no native peoples to provide benefits, then we’re not obligated to meet these treaty rights. And if we’re not obligated to meet these treaty contracts, then the land is available, the resources are available. And I think that that essential point about our claim to sovereignty, our claim to land, our claim to a culture, our claim to resources is one that gets lost if we don’t insist upon the fact that we are nations. And we have taken huge steps to decolonizing, and that proof comes from people being able to have the opportunities to speak their language, to be on their ancestral land. But the thing with decolonization is that it’s an ongoing process, just like grieving, just like any loss. As much as possible now, I try to tell people that I have a Native American name, and maybe it doesn’t mean anything to you, but it means everything to me. My name, maybe, doesn’t have a romanticized, Hollywood Indian name, but my name has more meaning than that. My name means that my family survived. My family survived disease. My family survived Catholicism. My family survived settler colonialism, and my family, they survived. I survived. My existence is resistance. Me saying my name is Skiumtalx, that is resistance in and of itself.

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Native Americans challenge their invisibility in society.CreditCredit...Michèle Stephenson and Brian Young

Op-Docs is The New York Times’s Emmy-award-winning and Oscar-nominated short documentary series.

What does it mean to be a Native American today? ln our latest installment of The Times’s Conversation on Race project, we set out to include as many perspectives on native identity as possible.

And there are many perspectives indeed. For this film, we spoke to dark-skinned and light-skinned individuals. Those whose ancestry ranges from one-sixteenth to four-fourth. People younger and older. And those who follow their tribe’s religion to those that follow Bible-based beliefs. We heard from people with backgrounds from as far as Arizona Navajo to the northeastern United States, and even interviewed Hawaiian and South American native individuals living in New York City.

While there are naturally nuances to everyone’s personal story, we saw a profound universality in their experiences. No matter who you are, if you are Native American, your opinions and experiences are marginalized to the point of invisibility in American society and culture. This project presents an opportunity to express some of the deeper debates that shape the journey shared by many Native Americans to personal liberation.

One pervasive theme that emerged was the struggle of not feeling “native enough.” There were a number of reasons for this, from imposed ideas of not having enough native blood to not having a stereotypical Indian look. But as one of our interviewees asked, What does being not native enough even mean? We are still contemplating.

It was also inspiring to observe that despite these internalized feelings of oppression, people found their own sense of belonging and ways of being part of their Native nation or community, while at the same time maintaining a sense of individuality. Before filming these interviews, our co-director, Brian Young, had been struggling with his own sense of “nativeness.” (He is a member of the Diné, or Navajo, nation.) By hearing how others negotiated those feelings, he could better understand and explore his own way of expressing his Native identity while living in New York City.

Despite the broad spectrum of indigenous identities who participated in our conversation, they shared the experience of living away from their respective reservations and communities. We hope that this piece helps inspire more online and offline conversations that include an even wider range of Native voices living in, around and beyond reservation communities.

Brian Young is an author, filmmaker and Ford Foundation fellow. He is completing a master’s in creative writing at Columbia University. Michèle Stephenson is a Brooklyn-based filmmaker and author whose work has earned three Emmy nominations, a Sundance Jury Prize and an N.A.A.C.P. Image Award for Outstanding Literary Work.

Op-Docs is a forum for short, opinionated documentaries, produced with creative latitude by independent filmmakers and artists. Learn more about Op-Docs and how to submit to the series.

Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook and Twitter (@NYTopinion), and sign up for the Op-Docs newsletter.

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