In our struggle for the rights of our Native people and our tribal governments, we point out the terrible things that we have suffered over history. Those accounts are manifold in history books in our research – the taking of our lands and our forced removal from primeval homelands, and the slaughter of our people from the earliest days of contact with the European invaders. We have adopted the terms genocide and holocaust to describe the killing of our tribes through pestilence, removal, and unprovoked warfare. And we grieve the memory of the massacre of Cheyenne and Arapaho families at Sand Creek in Colorado, the slaughter of Cheyenne men, women and children at Washita, rampant slaughter of the inhabitants of Indian Island in California, and the infamous massacre at Wounded Knee Creek.

Often we recall these things to put our conquerors and colonizers on a guilt trip to loosen up federal purse strings to meet the needs of our people, and to stir our political adrenaline to fight for our rights as the citizens of the first nations on this continent.

So it is painful in reading history to learn truths that disappoint our preconceptions of our nobler selves – to learn that we are just humans after all. Increasingly we are shaken to consciousness to this fact by actions in our tribal nations today.

Such is the case in the ongoing disenfranchisement of the Freedmen Blacks of the Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma.

It is true that the newly emancipated slaves of Cherokee plantations were forced onto the tribe by the victorious Union as punishment for having fought against the North in the Civil War, and the tribe was forced to incorporate them into its citizenry.

It is true that early on Cherokee entrepreneurs, trying to meet expectations of the conquerors and colonizers to assimilate, had become slave owners because it enabled them to compete agriculturally, especially in growing cotton. So, it can be said – albeit in gross irony – that as part of their efforts to become “civilized” Native farmers adopted slavery.

These Cherokee farmers and entrepreneurs were the core of the group that negotiated and signed the 1835 Treaty of New Echota which accepted removal west to Indian Territory. And it was the slave owners largely that formed the first wave to emigrate west on the Trail of Tears. But for these, the Cherokee elite, the Trail of Tears was facilitated by the slaves they took with them, and the hundreds more that were purchased along the way, most of them to be sold in the new territory.

And in the new territory, during the Civil War, the issue of slavery split each of the Five Civilized Tribes, and dragged them into the cruelest internecine warfare imaginable. Cherokee Stand Watie, General in command of the combined tribal troops fighting for the South and the last confederate general to surrender his forces at the end of the War, waged a cruel, merciless campaign against the anti-slavery forces of Apothle Yoholo, Creek leader of the ragtag intertribal group loyal to the Union. General Watie’s orders to his troops forbade them to take any Black prisoners. They were to be killed upon capture. He drove Yoholo’s pathetic mass into Kansas, with scant supplies in the dead of winter, and left them there to die of the cold and starvation.

In the end, the surviving slaves were those that, out of loyalty, wouldn’t leave their Native plantations, and others that were afraid to leave knowing they would be killed as runaways. Some of the remaining slaves fought beside their Cherokee masters for the South. These were the Black people that were forced upon the Cherokee by treaty to take into its tribal membership rolls at the end of the Civil War.

This is my reading of that tragic era in Civil War history. Thus, to me, the actions taken by the Cherokee Tribe and its Supreme Court to disenfranchise those Freedmen, and the way it was done with apparent political motives, reek of injustice, if not racism. And using tribal sovereignty as the reason – or excuse – cheapens it. There is no question in my mind that Cherokee sovereignty gives them power to take the action that was taken. But the exercise of its sovereignty also means that the Cherokee Nation could tell those Black citizens that they are welcome to stay and enjoy the heritage and the homelands that were forced onto them.

Sovereignty is powerful stuff, but it must have humanity; it must have soul.

There is light, however, in this messy swamp that taints Indian America. Cherokee attorney Ralph Keen, Jr., who courageously represents the Freedmen in their cause, is to be commended for his defense of this embattled minority among minorities. He sets a standard for which the entire Cherokee Nation, and all Indian Country and beyond, must admire and celebrate. I knew his father, the late Ralph Keen Sr., an honorable Cherokee who must from beyond be proud of his son.

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“I am a freshman in college. You are 76. I truly believe that many Indians of your generation have been completely brainwashed by boarding schools and many have even passed down much of the brainwashing to younger generations.”

This young man concerns me because of his seething bitterness, which steals away much from experiences and learning he should be getting as a college student. He seems quite bright and obviously reads much; but his reading appears to be reduced to materials that he knows will justify his rage. It makes me wonder about the teachers that feed his mind, for it is this rage that enflames and implodes, and leaves only a vacuum in his mind and soul.

What concerns me as well is his attitude expressed in this statement:

“I would never serve in the military of a foreign country like America like you because I am passionate about Indian sovereignty. I go to powwows late so I don’t have to watch veterans being honored and the American flag being honored along with our sovereign flag. I don’t believe veterans should be honored for mindlessly fighting wars that are domestically “sold” as “fighting for our freedoms” when millions of innocents are murdered purely for corporate profits and capitalistic greed. The military made my people walk between American flags on which babies were skewered during the forced march. I refuse to salute the American flag for this reason. I remember hundreds of thousands of Indians who were sold into slavery to strange, foreign lands while your generation has completely forgotten those people and are not even aware of their continued existence to this day. You are the older generation; I am the newer generation. Sorry, but we think differently. I refuse to be Americanized. I am the future but I am more traditional than those of your generation.

With peace and love, Joseph.

I won’t argue for waging war, but I’m not what one might call a “dove” either. I do agree with a strong national defense, but I am not for war as the first option for solving international problems. I don’t necessarily feel good or uplifted when I walk through a military cemetery, for although I know I am among heroes, I also know that many of the graves are those of young men – and increasingly, young women – who did not have to die but for the arrogance of some of our national leaders.

I enlisted in the U.S. Army just out of college in 1957, and served three years between the Korean conflict and the Viet Nam war. I had never seen combat and feel fortunate that I didn’t have to. But if it happened, I hope that I would have been brave in the face of death. And I admire those who have faced death in combat, many of whom brought home scars that will never disappear, in the form of posttraumatic stress syndrome. When I see a man or woman in military uniform, either in active service or in some veterans’ organization, I want to salute and tell that person “thank you.”

But people have a right to speak or write their own thoughts and feelings and beliefs, however repugnant they might be. I hope that young Joseph, the very opinionated Freshman, will come to understand the feelings and beliefs of others, and quit missing the very moving and touching openings of the wacipis or powwows, just to diss the veterans. And with his strong feelings of Indian victimhood, that he will understand what has made so many Native American young men and young women volunteer to serve, willingly and un-brainwashed, and fight for freedom for all, and for the pride of family and tribe.

The photo (right) is a constant reminder to me of the patriotism of the American Indian servicemen. The photo was taken in 1946 at the funeral of my cousin Clayton Gibbons, who was killed in the Pacific. You will note that his grave is juxtaposed next to the monument marking the mass grave of the people of Big Foot’s band who were slaughtered at Wounded Knee on December 29^th, 1890. This is a poignant statement of our people’s ability to move beyond tragedy and trauma, and to do what they see is right, however others may see it. There are other white marble government-issued markers throughout all cemeteries all over the reservation.

Certain words come into vogue and quickly become cliches, and I’m always glad to see them disappear. In the early 1960s, for example, everybody was using the word copacetic, meaning good, cool, or however a person wanted to describe something as satisfactory. Throughout the 1990s, the word paradigm was used freely and excessively. Now the big thing is “issue” to mean problematic. Even my doctor tells me I have various issues with my heart. I’d rather have a problem than an issue. If I am going to be a goner in six months, it is not an issue; it’s a problem, at least to me. Let’s be honest.

Certain words and expressions stay around longer in Indian Country, although I’m sure many of those words we used back at Pine Ridge sixty years ago have been forgotten or changed. Even Lakota words change, like the expression “Husti” (hooshtee). According to the Lakota dictionary, it is a masculine term expressing disappointment, e.g. “tough luck,” or “too bad.” We would use the term to mean, “Oh, oh, you’re gonna get it.” Back home recently, I heard young people say, “Hoshteeks,” meaning the same thing.

Why not? We’re human beings, and we evolve, even in language and culture. There seems to be a movement now, at least from what I’m getting in email and Facebook messages, with hilarious new additions to the lexicon of intertribal jargon. Below are some that I’ve seen recently, and I apologize in advance to the excellent mind or minds that created these new terms, that I can’t give due credit, because they come so fast and are forwarded so many times, I wouldn’t know where to find the real authors. Here are a few of the choicest:

Commodify (kah MOD if eye): uncanny ability of Indian women to convert the ingredients of any standard cookbook recipe to commodity ingredients such as powdered milk, powdered eggs and canned meat.

Skinship (SKIN-ship): the eventual relative connection that all Indian people discover within ten minutes of meeting each other.

Indinferior (IN din FEER ee your): the practice of Indians putting down other Indians for not speaking the language or not being full-blood or not participating in ceremonies or not living in the rez or not wearing braids or not dancing in pow-wows, etc., etc., etc.

Snaggravated (SNAG ra vayt ed): the feeling one gets upon realizing that last night’s snag isn’t quite as hot in the light of day.

Triballistic (tribal ISS tik): to become irrational and incoherent upon hearing the latest self-serving, short-sighted and illogical decision made by the local tribal council.

Councilmenopause (cown sil MEN oh paws): a disorder characterized by hot flashes, profuse sweating, impaired speech and loss of memory; normally occurs to tribal councilmen when cornered by angry tribal constituents.

I’ve created some of my own, although I have to admit that a couple of these are recollections of those told me by friends in the distant past, including Yakama journalist Richard LaCourse and Cherokee attorney Osley Saunooke.

SemiNole (Semee Nole): A mixed-blood freshman at Florida State University.

SkinFlicks (Skin Flix): Indian Pornography.

The Four Skins (Nuff Said): A doo-wop quartet of uncircumsized Sioux.

OklahomeBrew: Number one brand of beer in Anadarko.

WinnaBagel: Kosher frybread.

SiouxShi: Bullheads served raw on commodity rice at Pine Ridge.

LummiTender: An 1960s Elvis Presley hit about his Indian sweetheart.

Penobscotch: Best booze served in Maine.

The possibilities are endless. I haven’t even touched on Snagriculture, or Sicanguru, or Wannabeasts, or Siouxper egos. You nice readers who might be groaning over those that I’ve created, send me your creations, and we’ll see who’s the more creative.

Meanwhile, have fun, be happy. Osama bin dead and gone, but GERONOMO LIVES ON AND ON.

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Charles “Chuck” Trimble was born and raised on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, and is a member of the Oglala Lakota Nation.