Drawn from Native American autobiographical accounts, a study revealing white society's program of civilizing American Indian schoolchildren

Clara D. True and Clinton J. Crandall, teacher and superintendent for the Indian Day School of the Santa Clara Pueblo, were typical agents in the campaign waged by the federal government to assimilate Native Americans into mainstream American society. As the primary Office of Indian Affairs officials for the Pueblo, True and Crandall administered the school and also served as de facto health officials, demographers, arbiters, and legal consultants-as well as the eyes and ears of the government. Drawing upon an extensive correspondence between True and Crandall from 1902 to 1907, Adrea Lawrence provides an intimate look at the daily lives and challenges that the two educators faced as they worked with a diverse community of Tewa Indians and Hispanos. Through this long-overlooked correspondence, Lawrence introduces us to two fascinating characters-flawed but intent individuals charged with the task of carrying out the government's colonialist Indian education policy. Through descriptions of such episodes as their disdain for older Indians' suspicion of vaccination, True and Crandall provide clear examples of the inherent contradictions in the federal government's culturally insensitive approach toward its Indian population. Yet they were also great advocates for the Indians, often stepping in to mediate in matters involving land and taxation. The complex portrait of these educators that emerges is based not just on the letters but also on corresponding documents from Pueblo Indians, periodicals, legal cases, statutes, Indian Office circulars, and anthropological studies conducted by both Native and non-Native scholars. Lawrence reveals the challenges federal employees faced as they tried to execute the federal policy of assimilation while dealing with educative issues-relating to land, disease, citizenship, and modes of education-that confronted Santa Clara Pueblo and its neighbors. Several recurring themes are traced through each chapter, such as colonization as negotiation; place as a participant; True and Crandall's notions of "good" and "bad" Indians; and the significance of the relationships among Pueblo Indians, Hispanos, and Anglos. Simultaneously caring and condescending, dedicated yet oblivious to cultural complexities, True and Crandall in these letters offer a rare and nuanced look at the daily interactions between OIA employees and their charges. It makes a unique contribution to both Native American and education history.

Now in its second edition, The American Indian Mind in a Linear World examines the persistence of Native peoples in retaining their own worldviews, from the pre-Columbian era into the twenty-first century. The book explores the ways in which Indian people who are close to their cultural traditions think in a circular fashion, understand by relying on visual analysis, and make decisions from an Indigenous logic. Yet, Comanches have a different reality from Mohawks, Apache ethos is not like that of the Lakotas, and Indian men and women see things differently. How and why is the Native mind different from the western world? Why have white teachers and missionaries tried to change the minds of Native students? The Indian perspective is not wrong; it is simply different and inclusive, another way of looking at the world and universe. This edition updates the discussion with a new chapter on contemporary American Indian intellectualism and further analysis of the preservation of Indigenous traditional knowledge. Approachable and engaging, this volume is a key resource for students and scholars of Native American and Indigenous studies and Indigenous history.

Sherman Indian High School, as it is known today, began in 1892 as Perris Indian School on eighty acres south of Riverside, California, with nine students. Its mission, like that of other off-reservation Indian boarding schools, was to "civilize" Indian children, which meant stripping them of their Native culture and giving them vocational training. Today, the school on Magnolia Avenue in Riverside serves 350 students from 68 tribes, and its curricula are designed to both preserve Native languages and traditions and prepare students for life and work in mainstream American society. This book offers the first full history of Sherman Indian School’s 100-plus years, a history that reflects federal Indian education policy since the late nineteenth century. Sherman Institute's historical trajectory features the abuse and exploitation familiar from other accounts of life at Indian boarding schools—children punished and humiliated for maintaining Native ways and put to work as manual laborers. But this book also brings to light the ways Native children managed to maintain their dignity, benefited from interacting with students from other tribes, and often even expressed appreciation for the experiences at Sherman. Alternating periods of assimilation and self-determination form a critical part of the story Diana Meyers Bahr tells, but her interpretation of the students’ complex experiences is more subtle than that. From the accounts of students, educators, and administrators over the years, Bahr draws a picture of Sherman students successfully navigating a complicated middle course between total assimilation and total rejection of white education. The ambivalence of such a middle way has meant confronting painful moral choices—and ultimately it has deepened students’ appreciation for the diverse cultures of Indian America and heightened their awareness of their own tribal identity. The ramifications can be seen in today's Sherman Indian High School, a repository of the living history so deftly and thoroughly chronicled here.

An in depth look at boarding schools and their effect on the Native students.

A Companion to American Indian History captures the thematic breadth of Native American history over the last forty years. Twenty-five original essays by leading scholars in the field, both American Indian and non-American Indian, bring an exciting modern perspective to Native American histories that were at one time related exclusively by Euro-American settlers. Contains 25 original essays by leading experts in Native American history. Covers the breadth of American Indian history, including contacts with settlers, religion, family, economy, law, education, gender issues, and culture. Surveys and evaluates the best scholarship on every important era and topic. Summarizes current debates and anticipates future concerns.

The years between 1880 and 1930 are usually seen as a time in which American writers departed from values and traditions of the Victorian era in wholly new works of modernist literature, with the turn of the century typically used as a dividing line between the old and the new. Challenging this periodization, contributors argue that this entire time span should instead be studied as a coherent and complex literary field. The essays in this volume show that these were years of experimentation, negotiation of boundaries, and hybridity—resulting in a true literature of transition. Contributors offer new readings of authors including Jack London, Edith Wharton, and Theodore Dreiser in light of their ties to both the nineteenth-century past and the emerging modernity of the twentieth century. Emphasizing the diversity of the literature of this time, contributors also examine poetry written by and for Native American students in a Westernized boarding school, the changing attitudes of authors toward marriage, turn-of-the-century feminism, dime novels, anthologies edited by late-nineteenth-century female literary historians, and fiction of the Harlem Renaissance. Calling for readers to look both forward and backward at the cultural contexts of these works and to be mindful of the elastic categories of this era, these essays demonstrate the plurality and the tensions characteristic of American literature during the century’s long turn. Contributors: Dale M. Bauer | Donna M. Campbell | Melanie Dawson | Myrto Drizou | Meredith Goldsmith | Karin Hooks | John G. Nichols | Kristen Renzi | Cristina Stanciu

With essays ranging in topic from the films of Neil LaBute to the sexual politics of Major League Baseball, this diverse collection of essays examines the multi-faceted media images of contemporary masculinity from a variety of perspectives and academic disciplines. The book's first half focuses on the issue of racialized masculinity and its various manifestations, with essays covering, among other topics, the re-imagining of Asian American masculinity in Justin Lin's Better Luck Tomorrow and the ever-present image of black male buffoonery in the neo-minstrel performances of VH1's Flavor of Love. The book's second half explores the issue of contemporary mediated performance and the cultural politics of masculinity, with essays focusing on popular media representations of men in a variety of gendered roles, from homemakers and househusbands to valorous war heroes and athletic demigods.

When Indian University--now Bacone College--opened its doors in Indian Territory (now Oklahoma) in 1880, it was a small Baptist institution designed to train young Native Americans to be teachers and Christian missionaries among their own people and to act as agents of cultural assimilation. From 1927 to 1957, however, Bacone College changed course and pursued a new strategy of emphasizing the Indian identities of its students and projecting often-romanticized images of Indianness to the non-Indian public in its fund-raising campaigns. Money was funneled back into the school as administrators hired Native American faculty who in turn created innovative curricular programs in music and the arts that encouraged their students to explore and develop their Native identities. Through their frequent use of humor and inventive wordplay to reference Indianness--"Indian play"--students articulated the (often contradictory) implications of being educated Indians in mid-twentieth-century America. In this supportive and creative culture, Bacone became an "Indian school," rather than just another "school for Indians." In examining how and why this transformation occurred, Lisa K. Neuman situates the students' Indian play within larger theoretical frameworks of cultural creativity, ideologies of authenticity, and counterhegemonic practices that are central to the fields of Native American and indigenous studies today.

A survey of two centuries of Indian political writings