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N ative Americans have more than one thing not to be thankful about on Thanksgiving. Pilgrim Day, and its antecedent feast Halloween, represent

the annual twin peaks of Indian stereotyp- ing. From early October through the end of November, “cute little Indians” abound on greeting cards, advertising posters, in cos- tumes, and school projects. Like stock char- acters from a vaudeville repertoire, they duti- fully march out of the folk-cultural attic (and right down Madison Avenue!) ughing and wah-wah-wahing, smeared with lipstick and rouged; decked out in an assortment of “In- dian suits” composed of everything from old clothes to fringed paper bags, little trick-or- treaters and school pageant extras mindlessly sport and cavort.

Considering that virtually none of the standard fare surrounding either Hallow- een or Thanksgiving contains an ounce of authenticity, historical accuracy, or cross- cultural perception, why is it so apparently ingrained? Is it necessary to the North Amer- ican psyche to perpetually exploit and de- base its victims in order to justify its history? And do Native Americans have to reconcile themselves to forever putting up with such exhibitions of puerile ethnocentrism?

It’s Never Uncomplicated Being a parent is never uncomplicated. One is compelled, through one’s children, to re- experience vicariously the unfolding com- plexities of growing up, of coping with the uncomprehended expectations of an appar- ently intransigent and unaffectable world, of carving a niche of personality and point of view amidst the abundance of pressures and demands which seem to explode from all di- rections. Most people spend a good part of their lives in search of the ephemeral ideal often termed “identity,” but never is the quest more arduous and more precarious— and more crucial—than in the so-called “forma- tive years.”

One would like, of course, to spare off- spring some of the pains and frustrations necessarily involved in maturation and self- realization, without depriving them of the fulfillments, discoveries, and excitements, which are also part of the process. In many arenas, little or no parental control is—or should be—possible. Learning, particularly about self, is a struggle, but with security, support, and love it has extraordinary and marvelously unique possibilities. As parents, our lot is often to watch and worry and cheer and commiserate, curbing throughout our impulse to intervene. The world of children interacting with children is in large part off- limits.

Passivity ends, however, with relation to those adult-manufactured and therefore wholly gratuitous problems with which our children are often confronted. We naturally rise against the greed of panderers of debili- tating junk foods; we reject dangerous toys, however cleverly advertised; and we make strict laws to protect against reckless motor- ists. We dutifully strap our children into seat- belts, keep toxic substances out of reach, and keep a wary eye for the dangerous stranger

With so many blatant dangers to counter, perhaps it is unavoidable that some of the more subtle and insidious perils to child wel- fare are often permitted to pass. The deficien- cies of our own attitudes and training may be allowed to shower upon our children, thus in- suring their continuation, unchallenged, into yet another generation. Much of what we im- part is unconscious, and we can only strive to heighten our own awareness and thereby circumvent a repetition ad infinitum of the “sins of the fathers” (and mothers).

And of course, we all make the effort to do this, to one degree or another. It is there- fore especially intolerable when we observe other adults witlessly, maliciously, and occa- sionally innocently, burdening our children with their own unexamined mental junk. Each of us has undoubtedly amassed a whole repertoire of examples of such negative in- fluences, ranked in hierarchy of infamy ac- cording to our own values and perspectives. Even with the inauguration of certain broad controls, Saturday morning cartoon audienc- es are still too often invited to witness and approve violence, cruelty, racism, sexism, ageism, and a plethora of other endemic so- cial vices.

Attitudes pertinent to “racial” or “sex- role” identity are among the most potentially hazardous, for these can easily be internal- ized—particularly by the “minority” child. Such internalized attitudes profoundly affect self-concept, behavior, aspiration, and con- fidence. They can inhibit a child before he or she has learned to define personal talents, limits, or objectives, and tend to regularly become self-fulfilling prophesies. Young people who are informed that they are going to be underachievers do underachieve with painful regularity.

Indian Fakelore The progeny of each oppressed group are saddled with their own specialized set of debilitating—and to parents, infuriating— stereotypes. As the father of three Native American children, aged ten, six, and three, I am particularly attuned (but not resigned) to that huge store of folk Americana presum- ing to have to do with “Indian lore.” From the “One little, two little . . . ” messages of nursery school, to the ersatz pageantry of boy scout/campfire girl mumbo jumbo, pre- cious, ridiculous, and irritating “Indians” are forever popping up.

Consider for a moment the underlying meanings of some of the supposedly innocu- ous linguistic stand-bys: “Indian givers” take back what they have sneakily bestowed in much the same way that “Indian summer” deceives the gullible flower bud. Unruly children are termed “wild Indians” and a local bank is named “Indian Head” (would you open an account at a “Jew’s hand,” “Ne- gro ear” or “Italian toe” branch?). Ordinary

Why I’m Not Thankful for Thanksgiving by MICHAEL DORRIS

Reprinted from Rethinking Popular Culture and Media • $18.95 • April 2011 • 340 pages ISBN: 978-0-942961-48-5 • Published by Rethinking Schools • www.rethinkingschools.org

citizens rarely walk “Indian file” when about their business, yet countless athletic teams, when seeking emblems of savagery and bloodthirstiness, see fit to title themselves “warriors,” “braves,” “redskins,” and the like.

On another level, children wearing “In- dian suits,” playing “cowboys and Indians,” (or, in the case of organizations like the Y-In- dian Guides, Y-Indian Maidens and Y-Indian Princesses, simply “Indians”), or scratching their fingers with pocket knives (the bet- ter to cement a friendship) are encouraged to shriek, ululate, speak in staccato and un- grammatical utterances (or, conversely, in sickeningly flowery metaphor)—thus pre- sumably emulating “Indians.” With depress- ing predictability, my children have been variously invited to “dress up and dance,” portray Squanto (Pocahontas is waiting in the wings: my daughter is only 3), and “tell a myth.”

Not surprisingly, they have at times evi- denced some unwillingness to identify, and thus cast their lot, with the “Indians” that bombard them on every front. My younger son has lately taken to commenting “Look at the Indians!” when he comes across Ricardo Montalban, Jeff Chandler, or the improb- able Joey Bishop in a vintage TV western. Society is teaching him that “Indians” exist only in an ethnographic frieze, decorative and slightly titillatingly menacing. They in- variably wear feathers, never crack a smile (though an occasional leer is permissible un- der certain conditions), and think about little besides the good old days. Quite naturally, it does not occur to my son that he and these curious and exotic creatures are expected to present a common front— until one of his first grade classmates, garbed in the favor- ite costume of Halloween (ah, the permuta- tions of burlap!) or smarting from an ecology commercial, asks him how to shoot a bow, skin a hamster, or endure a scrape without a tear. The society image is at the same time too demanding and too limiting a model.

What Does One Do? As a parent, what does one do? All efficacy is lost if one is perceived and categorized by school officials as a hypersensitive crank, re- acting with horror to every “I-is-for-Indian” picture book. To be effective, one must ap- pear to be super-reasonable, drawing sym- pathetic teachers and vice-principals into an alliance of the enlightened to beat back the attacks of the flat-earthers. In such a pose, one may find oneself engaged in an appar- ently persuasive discussion with a school

librarian regarding a book titled something like Vicious Red Men of the Plains (“Why, it’s set here for 20 years and nobody ever no- ticed that it portrayed all Indi . . . uh, Native Americans, as homicidal maniacs!”) while at the same time observing in silence a poster on the wall about “Contributions of the In- dians” (heavy on corn and canoes, short on astronomy and medicine).

Priorities must be set. One might elect to let the infrequent coloring book page pass uncontested in favor of mounting the battle- ments against the visitation of a traveling Indianophile group proposing a “playlet” on “Indians of New Hampshire.” These possibly well-intentioned theatricals, routinely head- ed by someone called “Princess Snowflake” or “Chief Bob,” are among the more objec- tionable “learning aids” and should be avoid- ed at all costs. It must somehow be commu- nicated to educators that no information about native peoples is truly preferable to a reiteration of the same old stereo- types, particularly in the early grades.

“The Indians Had Never Seen Such a Feast!” A year ago my older son brought home a program printed by his school; on the second page was an illustration of the “First Thanksgiving,” with a caption which read in part: “They served pumpkins and turkeys and corn and squash. The Indians had never seen such a feast!”

On the contrary! The Pilgrims had liter- ally never seen “such a feast,” since all foods mentioned are exclusively indigenous to the Americas and had been provided, or so leg- end has it, by the local tribe.

Thanksgiving could be a time for ap- preciating Native American peoples as they were and as they are, not as either the Pil- grims or their descendant bureaucrats might wish them to be.

If there was really a Plymouth Thanks- giving dinner, with Native Americans in at- tendance as either guests or hosts, then the event was rare indeed. Pilgrims generally considered Indians to be devils in disguise, and treated them as such.

And if those hypothetical Indians partici- pating in that hypothetical feast thought that

all was well and were thankful in the expec- tation of a peaceful future, they were sadly mistaken. In the ensuing months and years, they would die from European diseases, suf- fer the theft of their lands and property and the near-eradication of their religion and their language, and be driven to the brink of extinction.

Thanksgiving, like much of American history, is complex, multifaceted, and will not bear too close a scrutiny without reveal- ing a less-than-heroic aspect. Knowing the truth about Thanksgiving, both its proud and its shameful motivations and history, might well benefit contemporary children. But the glib retelling of an ethnocentric and self- serving falsehood does not do one any good.

Parents’ major responsibility, of course, resides in the home. From the earliest pos- sible age, children must be made aware that

many people are wrong-headed about not only Native Americans, but about cultural pluralism in general.

Children must be encouraged to ar- ticulate any questions they might have about “other” people. And “minority” children must be given ways in which to insulate themselves from real or implied insults, epithets, slights, or stereotypes. “Survival humor” must be developed and positive models must, consciously and unconsciously, be available and ob- vious. Sadly, children must learn not to trust uncritically.

Protecting children from racism is every bit as important as insuring that they avoid playing with electrical sockets. Poison is poison, and ingrained oppressive cultural attitudes are at least as hard to antidote, once implanted, as are imbibed cleaning fluids.

No one gains by allowing an inequitable and discriminatory status quo to persist. It’s worth being a pain in the neck about.

In preparing this essay on stereotyping and Native American children, I did not con- cern myself with overt or intentional racism. Native American young people, particularly in certain geographical areas, are often prey to racial epithets and slurs—and to physi- cal abuse—just by being who they are. No amount of “consciousness-raising” will solve this problem; it must be put down with force and determination.u

The late Michael Dorris was an author of award- winning novels for adults and children. He was of Modoc heritage. This essay originally appeared in the Bulletin of the Council on Interracial Books for Children, Vol. 9, No. 7.

Knowing the truth about Thanksgiving, both its proud and its shameful motivations and history, might well benefit contemporary children. But the glib retelling of an ethnocentric and self- serving falsehood does not do one any good.