American Indian Culture and Research Journal

When addressing the theme of religion in contemporary American Indian works of fiction, literary scholarship is often hesitant regarding its critical evaluation. Scholars frequently tackle the fictional treatment of tribal ceremonies and rituals, sacred sites, the repatriation of tribal remains and its legal implications, and Native spirituality in general. The issue of whether or not it is possible to negotiate a middle ground, a balance between traditional tribal and Christian religions, largely remains untouched by literary scholarship. This comes somewhat as a surprise, since the writers themselves are continually discussing the transcultural role of religion for Native American peoples today in terms of mutual and reciprocal exchange. This paper will demonstrate to what effect transculturation is used as a strategy for defining how religion is culturally negotiated in Linda Hogan’s Mean Spirit (1990), Diane Glancy’s Pushing the Bear (1996), and Sherman Alexie’s Reservation Blues (1995). I am using the term transculturation employed by Mary Louise Pratt, who understands colonial confrontation as an “encounter” in a “contact zone.” Pratt’s basic principle is that cultures always change, unless they exist in a never-changing, static environment. Instead of dwelling on the frontier concept, the immigration experience, the melting pot, or various concepts of pluralism, Pratt’s focus is on a “zone” which allows—even automatically produces—interaction, exchange, dialogue, and reciprocity. She claims that ethnographers have used the term transculturation “to describe how subordinated or marginal groups select and invent from materials transmitted to them by a dominant or metropolitan culture,” and she continues: “While subjugated peoples cannot readily control what emanates from the dominant culture, they do determine to varying extents what they absorb into their own, and what they use it for.”

Between 1945 and 1975, United States policy toward Native Americans underwent a 180-degree shift, from an assault on tribal authority to almost total recognition of it. Under presidents Harry S. Truman and Dwight D. Eisenhower, the federal government had sought to terminate its trust relationship with Indians and assimilate them into Anglo society. But this effort waned and the administrations of John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson missed an opportunity to break with the past. During the 1960s, federal officials spoke of a “new emphasis” that moved away from termination and toward tribal self-determination without repudiating assimilation and economic development, Anglo style, as policy aims. In 1970, however, President Richard M. Nixon denounced termination and pledged to end the federal government’s “suffocating paternalism” toward American Indians. Five years later, Congress passed the Indian Self-Determination and Education Assistance Act which allowed tribes to run many federal programs themselves. Scholars have published a number of studies of recent Native American policy, but the role of Congress in shaping Indian policy, especially individual members and their Native American constituents, remains largely unexplored. Representative Carl Albert, Democrat of Oklahoma, possessed a limited vision regarding Native American self-determination. The “Little Giant” was one of the few congressmen who saw his career, from 1947 to 1977, span the era of termination, gradual assimilation, and self-determination. A nationally known figure who became majority whip in 1955, majority leader in 1962, and house speaker in 1971, Albert was in a position to influence federal policy. And he was conscious of Indian concerns, since the population of his home state was one-quarter American Indian and his district, the Oklahoma Third, included Chickasaws, Choctaws, and Seminoles, members of the Five Civilize Tribes. Yet Albert’s relations with the Choctaws, who first backed, then opposed termination, exemplifies the ambivalence of many Great Society liberals toward Native American self-determination.

In a previous article I focused on otter, the animal on the first spiritual level of the Midewiwin healing society. For the Great Lakes Ojibwa, otter is present in many ways: as an experienced corporeal reality in nature; as a central theme in stories, on scrolls and medicine bags, and in non-figurative patterns. I argued that otter had a vivid and expansive presence and was a powerful force not only in the life of the Ojibwa in general, but also in the ritual and life of the Mide practitioners. Since otter so thoroughly informed the spiritual practices of the Midewiwin and since these same leaders were also signatories to Treaty Three, their expectations about the treaty were informed by otter. In this article I will ascend the Mide ladder to the next ritual rung and examine the role another specific animal played in the life of the Ojibwa and the Midewiwin. Which animal symbol is on the second step in the Midewiwin ceremonies? With regard to the Woodlands Ojibwa, Robert and Pat Ritzenthaler list the second-degree Mide bags as those of owl or hawk skins. For the Minnesota and Great Lakes Ojibwa, Fred K. Blessing and Julia Harrison give hawk as a second-degree bag and owl as a third-degree one. For Northern Minnesota, W. J. Hoffman states that the pouch of the fourth-degree initiated contained an owl. For the more eastern Ojibwa, Ruth Landes places weasel and mink as second and third. I will focus on the owl, but will also make allusions to the hawk. Stories, images, and voices of the owl offer a window into the Ojibwa world. These impressions give an indication of the prized qualities of the owl, qualities that the Ojibwa appropriated and brought with them to treaty signing. Animals, however, are not merely objects to be heard, viewed, and prized, but agents who have voices and fellow subjects on life’s path. Their approach is multifaceted since they can scare, protect, guide, and mediate. Indeed, they are guardians that are sometimes indistinguishable from human persons, for they often reciprocally exchange places, features, and roles with humans.

A BRIEF REVIEW OF THE CARTOGRAPHIC RECORD There is no dearth of maps depicting Indian lands. The cartographic resource of original, modified, or reconstructed maps is voluminous and map sources abound in the official record and in the literature. To be sure, the vast majority of published maps derive much of their subject matter from older, more empirical sources. Yet gaps exist in the mapping record. Some tribal areas were never mapped (or were poorly mapped) and many maps of such areas have been lost. Keeping up with the countless boundary changes that have affected any one tribe’s ultimate territory (reservation) under federal administration is not impossible, but is frustrating nonetheless. In many instances treaties of land cession have suffered from poor translation into maps, and treaty wordings referring to tribal territory have been called into question. To date, no one has sorted out, classified, and indexed the countless maps that represent background data and exhibits in claims litigation before the Indian Claims Commission (ICC) or the Federal Claims Court (formerly the Court of Claims). Moreover, rarely can only one map fully display the numerous changes in Indian land tenure and territoriality from aboriginal times to the present that would relate to any specific tribe or reservation.

Kashka instinctively thought back to the night in late November when her husband had gone to his cousin’s house and gotten drunk, come home and wanted to have sex. She told him he was too drunk and that she was not interested. In his drunken state, he became angry and left the house. The next morning, on her way to work, she saw her husband coming out of Johnny’s house. Everyone in the village knew that Johnny was HIV positive and sexually active. As burdened as she was with her husband’s infidelity, she knew that asking him to wear a condom would only make him angry and violent. She also realized that she would have little support from the women in the village if she refused to have sexual relations with her husband. As we enter the twenty-first century, Native American women are faced with a variety of health concerns. Two critical and interrelated issues are HIV/AIDS and intimate-partner violence. Both are serious problems by themselves and an even bigger concern where they connect. Kashka’s story above demonstrates one way in which domestic violence and HIV/AIDS are related. She felt powerless to say no to sex or to protect herself from a husband she believed might be infected with HIV/AIDS. This relationship has historically been neglected by researchers, but many today are observing and documenting the critical connections between the AIDS pandemic and women’s inability to protect themselves due to the impact of violence in their lives. Many relationships between HIV/AIDS and violence can be found. One is that “women at highest risk for domestic violence are demographically similar to women at risk for HIV infection.” In addition, the two health problem intersect when women lack sexual agency, experience abuse and/or rape, and notify their partners of their HIV status.

Murv Jacob is a Cherokee painter and pipemaker who, when he’s not at home in Tahlequah, the Cherokee national capital, lives in a world of his own creation. Drawing on the oral tradition of his tribe, Jacob helps words come to life in his vibrant paintings. With color and intricacy, Mr. Jacob introduces Rabbit to Corn Mother. In his art, Jacob meets the challenge of representing a Cherokee worldview, which he often adapts from the iconography of ancient times, with his own unique and modern approach. He has won numerous awards, including Oklahoma Grand Awards, First Place Awards, and Heritage Awards. Jacob’s illustrations grace the covers and pages of many historical novels about Cherokees as well as children’s books, magazines, and videos. He is a joyful presence in Tahlequah, and can be found in the morning in his gallery, painting with tireless energy and talking all the while with those who stop in to say hello and watch the animals take shape. I met with Murv Jacob one July 2000 morning to view the completion of his Bear Dance painting and to hear his thoughts on stories and art. Sean Teuton: Mr. Jacob, you’ve moved around some before making your home in Tahlequah. Is there a place you’re thinking of when you paint? Murv Jacob: Yes, but it’s not necessarily an external place. I’ve spent all my life in the woods, but most of what I’ve been painting these days are the animals from the Cherokee animal stories, and then, sometimes, the Cherokee dances.