There’s a controversy brewing in one of the little river towns near where I live, and I’m not sure what the ‘right’ thing to do is. So, might as well write about it, eh?1 Write toward what you want to know, and maybe the path forward will become more clear. Maybe not. Worth a shot anyway.
Here’s the short version:
For many many years there has been a statue of a Native American male in a headdress on the main street of one of the little river towns in my area—the town’s name is Osceola2, and the mascot of the high school is “The Chieftains”. We could go down a rabbit hole of how Native American symbolism and terminology shouldn’t be used for non-Native institutions, but for sake of simplicity and so this post doesn’t turn into a chapter, I’ll just leave it at the simple facts for now.
The chief statue was removed from main street due to a building demolition and hasn’t yet been returned because it is in need of some minor repairs after years of weather. Now the controversy lies in whether or not to put the statue back. Based on social media commentary (which I’m not too inclined to join–debating things on Facebook generally doesn’t leave one feeling like something was accomplished in a good way..but I dove in to read all the commentary so I’d know what people are talking about–i may need to do some sort of purification ritual now), it would appear a large number of community members feel it should be returned. A smaller group (at least on social media..) of people feel the statue is demeaning to Indigenous folks and should not be returned. The statue has been well loved by many community members for decades, as myriad folks have shared they have happy memories tied to taking photographs by the statue and the town lore of which the statue represents. Some seem to feel it honors Native folks to have it there. The village of Osceola doesn’t have a large Native American presence, though to my knowledge no local tribal leaders have been contacted recently to learn how the local Dakota or Anishinaabe or Ho Chunk population feels about this issue. [Edited to add: A local Native Elder will be speaking at the township meeting next week, on Oct. 10 to share her perspective, and I’m looking forward to hearing what she has to say.] However, one individual who identified themselves as Native American (Cherokee, they said) in the comments is very much on the side of returning “The Chief” as the statue is often called. It’s fair to say that those who want the statue to stay gone are largely folks who would probably identify as ‘progressive’ and ‘white.’ The waters are muddy. Who’s right?
I’m one of those people who lean toward ‘progressive’ (though I like that label less and less the more divided folks seem to get and the more I learn about various decisions made in government..but that’s another rabbit hole). I am of German and Norwegian descent. My first reaction was, “Okay, well, nice as those memories and photo ops are for folks, aren’t statues like this disrespectful when not historically accurate? (Someone who knew the statue’s backstory stated that it is not a depiction of the actual Chief Osceola but rather a general depiction of one who may have been a Dakota or Ojibwe Native American male. Another article I found claims the statue is a rendering of Chief Osceola himself, though that one was by what appears to be some kind of travel blogger, so I’m doubtful of the historical accuracy. I’m fairly certain this particular headdress wasn’t part of the usual Seminole attire for men, which was more often a single feather, rather than a full headdress. Another bunch of folks said the statue was made to be representative of the headdress mascot of the local high school, and another person stated the local tribal leaders had given the school district a letter stating their permission years ago when the mascot was chosen. Muddy again…who’s right?
Anyway, if it is indeed a general depiction of “some random dude” as one person put it, that means the statue could be seen as a characterization of a nameless indigenous person, and that sort of characterization can cause harm to Native American folks who are living today. Direct bodily harm? No. Do ALL Native folks feel mascots or unnamed statues are an issue worth putting energy into? No again. Some probably do care, some surely don’t care at all, just like any other large group of people comprised of an array of differing views on things. One person on a thread shared that her son in law is Native American and loves the statue. (True? No idea as this is second hand information, but I doubt this individual is just making it up.)
I have a hard time getting past that the statue’s presence supports stereotypes that contribute to upholding the ongoing violence that is still a reality for so many Native groups today. My friend Cliff, an enrolled member of the Ponca tribe of Nebraska who was on the Ordinary Collisions interview series last week, used to post a lot about how he is on a mission to clear all antique shops of kitschy Native American stuff. He wants it gone.
Another person brought up that there are statues of Swedish people in some of the towns in the area, too. Yes, there absolutely are. Though they’re not characterizations of stereotypical Swedish traits, and all the ones I can think of also have information plates or state who the statue is or represents. And Swedes, even though not a result of intentional malice for the vast majority of immigrants, were part of the wave of colonization that impacted the area–part of the colonizing force that had (and still almost always has) the power. So that leads me back to thinking the Native American chief statue runs the risk of supporting the stereotypes that continue to perpetuate the harm that colonization has already caused (and continues to cause) indigenous groups. Someone else on the threads pointed out that if a town was named after Columbus, you wouldn’t have a statue of a “random white dude” in the town square to ‘honor’ him and somebody else said, “okay so maybe The Chief needs an info plaque” explaining the significance of the statue. And then, to add another layer of complication, a friend of mine told me a story of the time they were enrolling their kids in a school where the mascot was “The Indians” and she witnessed a small Indian boy (i.e. the family’s roots were in India) say to his mother, “Mom, why is this school the Indians, but they have a picture of a Native American?” Whew.
The whole thing clearly hit a nerve, and I’m still not sure what the right answer is, other than continuing to talk about it.
I’m reminded of this excerpt from Collisions of Earth and Sky:
Sometimes people we know and respect come into a conversation ready to fight: with us, with the committee, with the employer, with the system. Sometimes we go into an interaction—with our leaders, with our colleagues, with our family members, even with ourselves—expecting a fight. Inertia in the direction you’re trying to shift away from can feel like an unbeatable foe after years of trying to force a desired outcome into being, no matter how worthy the cause. Being in a fight is usually short-lived—you take and throw some punches, and eventually someone limps or is carried away. Not much gets solved.
On the other hand, being in a conversation takes staying power. Compassion. Empathy for “the other.” It takes deep listening and seeing from someone else’s perspective. In a fight, it’s everyone with blinders on going to battle for what they think is right. In a conversation, it’s seeing through the eyes of the other and then acting from love despite a difference of belief or opinion or status. It’s being open to new ways of existing alongside things that make us uncomfortable. Being in a conversation doesn’t have to mean compromising on something that goes against what you value deep in your bones, but it does mean acting from considering the question “what is it like to be you?” when interacting with your conversation partner. It’s important to note that there is privilege involved in having the capacity to choose a conversation over a fight: folks from marginalized groups often don’t have many opportunities to make this choice. There are times when a fight is necessary. Yet there are usually opportunities to choose to interact with a situation differently. (This is, of course, much easier said than done.)
I'm all for removing caricatures of any historically marginalized group. I’d love to support a local initiative to install art made BY some Indigenous artists, rather than supporting the return of art that is made about the idea of them. But I’m not for ‘cancel culture.’ I am for a world that is sensitive to the harm caused by dominant culture. That’s going to take some different thinking. I’m not sure if the community will get there. I think it could. I hope so. At any rate, it has me wondering: what if we could think differently? Imagine the possibilities in that.
For those who lean toward “progressive”, some food for thought (of which I certainly don’t have a clear answer): When is it our battle, a time to speak up loudly…..and when are we trying to speak FOR a group rather than WITH them? How can we recognize the difference? How can there be more reciprocity and true mutual aid? I think this can be a tough one: so often we want to be ‘doing the right thing’ but the ‘right thing’ is so often not that simple and we often still have our bias directing our actions. And for those who perhaps haven’t thought about ‘whatever the issue is’ much, or from another perspective: What might it be like from another point of view? What if ‘what’s always been done’ isn’t great? What good might come of trying something different?
Whatever ends up happening, I'm for a world that supports honoring true culture and taking the steps necessary to reduce harm wherever we can. I hope the community can have an actual productive conversation about why this hit a nerve–it seems to me keeping the conversation lines open and truly listening to the perspectives of all parties is essential. What if we could listen to each other? Not throw stones? Look at things from someone else’s point of view, maybe even somebody who isn’t always at the table? What if we brought more people to the table? Imagine the possibilities in that.
Join me October 8th at the St. Croix Falls Public Library as part of the Cracked Walnut Lit Festival. I’ll be interviewed by River Maria Urke in a special Up Close: Meet the Poet Behind the Verse. 3pm-4pm, and it’s free!
Does publishing this post make me pretty nervous? Yep. Any step into controversy feels scary, especially when it’s close to home.
One of the many towns across the country named after the prominent Seminole leader: Osceola was born as Billy Powell in Alabama in 1804 to a Creek mother and an English or Scottish (depending on the source) father. He and his mother were displaced during the Creek war of 1813-14 and migrated south east where they took refuge with the Seminole people –today there are about 3000 Seminole folks living on six different reservations in Florida, and there are 16,000 enrolled members of the Seminole Nation of Oklahoma.
Whew, this one is muddy, isn't it? I just wrapped up a training on White Saviorism and I think your question sort of wades into these waters. When are we acting performatively (most white progressives have strayed into this place from time to time, I know I have), how much are we weilding power over rather than power with, are we centering ourselves vs. the population in question...it's all murky. One of the questions that we ended the training with is "How is the dominant culture benefiting/not benefiting from this situation? How is the non-dominant culture benefiting/not benefiting from the situation?" I wonder if Osceola will have the courage to take on these harder questions...