Charles Trimble. Photo from Google+

On being Iyeska
By Charles "Chuck" Trimble

As many who have read my columns over the years know, I am a so-called Iyeska – a mixed-blood product of a Lakota mother and white father.

I read in the July 24, 2015 Indianz.com an op-ed piece by James Giago Davies entitled “Mixed-race Indians shamed over blood” and the comments it elicited from various readers. I have 80 years of experience at being Iyeska and thought that a piece I had done ten years or so ago might lend some perspective. Here it is:

Whether or not we admit it, many of the mixed blood kids that I knew in the Indian boarding school I attended and in my home village on the Pine Ridge Reservation through the 1940s and 50s wished sometimes that we were not Indian at all. That came perhaps from seeing movies and reading books in which the white guys always won, had all the money, nice cars, and girls. Indians were always the bad guys, killing white settlers who only wanted us dead and our land theirs.

And in most towns on the reservation, the stores and other businesses were owned by whites. In reservation border towns, we often faced discrimination. In short, our futures sometimes didn’t look all that promising as Indians.

So we readily bought into what was being pushed on us anyway: assimilation; and in order to get jobs and fit into the larger society we acted out what was expected of us.

But in the 1960s, minorities all around us were breaking out of the prison that was racism and discrimination. Encouraged by this, Indian people, especially in the urban areas, began to demonstrate for equality and justice. The media started to pay attention to Indian people – their needs and demands.

Federal and private foundation sources in response began to make funds available for new programs in the inner cities where relocated Indians tended to collect, and in the Indian reservation communities. This required new leadership to handle the programs and exposure to the world of industry and commerce invited many “lapsed” Indians to see themselves in those leadership positions. It became cool to be Indian, and many who had been washed away in the mainstream “went back to the blanket,” as it used to be said.

But most of the new would-be leaders had to convince the world, especially the media, that they were real Indians. More importantly, they had to establish or reestablish themselves among their own people to be accepted. The white man’s appearance, dress, behavior and surname that had given many Iyeskas the lions’ share of Indian opportunities in the past, now had to be disclaimed or abandoned. And this brought about a whole generation of ethno-cultural makeovers.

The cosmetic changes were no problem. Stereotypical Indian apparel was easy to come by, and even physical appearance could be changed. Hair could be let grown, darkened, and braided to give a re-born Indian that chiefy look the public and the press especially were seeking.

The inner changes were more difficult. Sometimes this required a total rewrite of one’s life story. The new life story usually included being born into grim poverty on a reservation; and, depending on who was telling it, being born in a log cabin or tipi (or hogan, or wickiup, igloo or whatever).

Then it was important to have been raised by tribal elders, having sat at their feet to learn the lessons of life and culture, always in the native tongue. In short, one had to claim to have been reared immersed in traditional life.

But the quickest way into the trust and acceptance of Indian people was to have suffered for the cause of Indianness. This required mission or government boarding school experience, where traditional language, religion and culture were beaten out of the students. Having his traditional language beaten out of him provided the Iyeska an excuse for not being able to speak his native tongue.

It is interesting to note, however, that Iyeskas are invariably the ones who tell about getting their native language beaten out of them. Full bloods tend not to complain about it because they still can speak their tribal language fluently, this despite the fact that where there was pressure to adopt the English language and punishment to discourage speaking the native language, the full bloods would certainly have gotten the worst of it.

And, finally, an Iyeska tends to inflate his tribal blood quantum, never correcting some white friend who proudly introduces him as “a full blooded Indian.”

It pains me to read or hear someone I knew in my youth lie that he couldn’t speak a word of English when he started school. Or tell that the Christian religion was alien to him when he first attended a mission school, especially when he carries a family surname of many generations of Christian forebears.

Perhaps it’s time for us mixed-bloods to be honest with ourselves and with the rest of the world.

Contrary to the impression that Iyeskas often try to convey, we were not, as children, little holy people sitting at Grandpa’s feet being instructed on the secrets of life, or walking around contemplating nature. We were mischievous and sometimes mean, often making fun of older people who spoke broken English.

In the schools, there was often a sense of superiority among Iyeskas over the full-bloods, and sometimes there was tension between them. “Buck” was a common term used to describe a person who the Iyeska considered backward -- mostly full-bloods. But an Iyeska didn’t say it too loudly, because many of the best athletes and the toughest boys were full bloods.

It seems that during our formative years we Iyeskas used our white characteristics to our advantage in getting scholarships and employment opportunities, and then when more opportunities came for Indians – especially from Casino earnings, we want to take back our Indianness, at least in our fantasies, and get back in the head of the line for handouts.

Admittedly, what I have written above could be seen as cynical or even mean. I admit that the scenario applies to me to some degree, or I would not have written it. I write it as symbolic of what I have seen over many years. I do not mean it to apply to all mixed-blood people, but it does characterize many who return to Indian Country and try to tell Indians how to be real Indian.

It is true that most Iyeskas who stayed on the reservation are very satisfied and comfortable in their status in the communities. And many Iyeskas who had left the reservation are very serious in their search to find their native roots, and a culture they may feel to have been deprived of. For whatever reason they may have returned, some are happy in finding that special goodness and peace that can be found in traditional life.

But for many Iyeskas it’s time to quit lying and trying to impress white people and younger generations of Indians with fantasy stories of another life they might claim, or to quit blaming the government or history for their having given up a culture that was largely peripheral to their lives anyway.

We need to take pride in our Indianness, no matter how thin our tribal blood quantum might be; but we also need to give some credit to our White or Latino or Black forebears. We need to come to terms with our unique situation brought about by the mutual love of parents and forebears of difference races. The inner peace of accepting who we are and living a real life, with a true life story, is worth it.

So wipe off that phony war paint and that countenance of perpetual rage, and beam to the world, “You’re damn right I am Iyeska; and proud of it!”

Charles "Chuck" Trimble is a member of the Oglala Lakota Oyate, born and raised on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. He was principal founder of the American Indian Press Association in 1970, and served as Executive Director of the National Congress of American Indians from 1972-1978. He can be reached at cchuktrim@aol.com or charlestrimble.com

Related Stories:
James Giago Davies: Mixed-race Indians shamed over blood (7/24)