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SANTA FE, N.M. — <\/span>Swiftly marching toward westward expansion, the United States in the 1800s brought with it a tidal wave of displacement and cultural suppression for Native Americans.<\/p>\n A century of broken treaties already had spawned distrust of the federal government, and widespread forced assimilation was accelerating. With shifting cultural and social circumstances came declining populations. Survival was hanging in the balance.<\/p>\n Renowned for their masterful beadwork, Lakota women had a strategy.<\/p>\n Incorporating symbols of American patriotism into their work was more than a simple embrace of the stars and stripes. It was an act of quiet resistance that provided an avenue for conserving their values as U.S. policies unraveled their communities.<\/p>\n So with America’s 250th birthday<\/a> come mixed emotions rooted in pain, pride and even patriotism. Museum displays of elaborate beadwork are providing a window into that past, while paintings by contemporary Native artists offer critiques on more modern political struggles.<\/p>\n It’s a milestone marking resilience \u2014 and a fresh opportunity to look at the nation’s history through an unexpected, and perhaps less varnished, lens.<\/p>\n Curators and tribal scholars say the Native experience cannot be overlooked or minimized when talking about the complex tapestry that is America.<\/p>\n \u201cThe United States could not exist without Native history having been here first,\u201d said Aaron Carapella, who is of Cherokee descent and creates maps of Indigenous territories. \u201cThere\u2019s so many influences that Native people embedded into the fabric of what we call America.\u201d<\/p>\n A student of history, Carapella finds it unlikely that most of the Founding Fathers would have expected tribes to persist as sovereign entities. Rather, they thought tribes would be absorbed into American society.<\/p>\n Implementation of laws like the 1830 Indian Removal Act signed by President Andrew Jackson and the 1887 Dawes Act enacted by President Grover Cleveland led to forced relocations through brutal journeys like the Trail of Tears<\/a>. Land grabs resulted when millions of acres of tribal landholdings were broken up.<\/p>\n Bounties in Minnesota and the Southwest along with militias in California further eroded tribal territories. Then came the boarding schools<\/a>, where Native children were sent in an effort to erase their connections to culture, language and religion.<\/p>\n It’s not ancient history. Tribal leaders say their people are still living with the effects of those policies.<\/p>\n Today, there are 575 tribes with inherent sovereignty recognized by the U.S, with the Lumbee Tribe<\/a> of North Carolina joining the list in December. The government-to-government relationships are unlike arrangements many other countries have with Indigenous populations. <\/p>\n N. Bruce Duthu, chair of Native American and Indigenous Studies at Dartmouth College and a member of the United Houma Nation, has taught and lectured around the globe. He said it\u2019s hard for Indigenous leaders in Bolivia and elsewhere to believe that tribes in the U.S. have been able to build power over the last half-century. It\u2019s an ongoing fight, but Duthu points to successful efforts to influence environmental policies and pass major legislation to hold non-tribal citizens accountable for crimes committed in Indian Country.<\/p>\n \u201cThe U.S. is routinely at the top of the heap in terms of a country that, despite all the flaws, at least now in the last 50 years or so, seems to have gotten it right,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n Native influences span from the notions of democracy shared with the Founding Fathers to the warrior ethos exhibited by the fierceness with which tribal nations fought to protect their land \u2014 from other tribes, foreign nations and the federal government.<\/p>\n It’s not unlike the patriotism many Americans feel today. And for some Native Americans, it’s a fundamental part of who they are; they have one of the highest per-capita rates of military service in the country.<\/p>\n At the center of the \u201cStars, Stripes and First Americans\u201d exhibit at New Mexico\u2019s Museum of Indian Arts and Culture is a painting by Kee Yazzie titled Din\u00e9 Code Talker. The brushstrokes pay homage to the Navajo Code Talkers<\/a>, who used their language to create an unbreakable code that played a critical role in U.S. victories during World War II.<\/p>\n Danyelle Means, the museum’s executive director and a member of the Oglala Lakota Nation, said other tribes also had code talkers. That included the Choctaw Nation and Comanche, Kiowa, Hopi, Muscogee, Sioux and Seminole recruits.<\/p>\n \u201cVeterans are a huge part of celebration and ceremony within Native communities and are often revered and have their own societies within these communities,\u201d Means said. \u201cSo it is something \u2014 that aspect of the U.S. and being a warrior for this country \u2014 that is very deep-seated in so many Native communities.\u201d<\/p>\n The Smithsonian\u2019s National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, D.C., is commemorating the 250th with an installation of two dresses that highlight heritage and Native American servicewomen. <\/p>\n Made a century apart, one is a Lakota beaded dress likely made for a July Fourth celebration and the other is a modern jingle dress worn by members of the Native American Women Warriors that includes a patch honoring Lori Piestewa, who is believed to be the first Native woman killed in combat on foreign soil. The Hopi soldier died from injuries following an ambush in Iraq in 2003.<\/p>\n Those military operations came after the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks. Navajo artist Pauline Thomas called it a scary time, knowing that more Native soldiers would be heading off to war. The 73-year-old created a weaving following 9\/11 that is now part of the exhibition in New Mexico.<\/p>\n For Thomas, her weavings mark moments in time, but they’re also a way for Navajo customs to live on. Her 12-year-old granddaughter already is winning blue ribbons for her weavings.<\/p>\n \u201cI think it\u2019s very, very important,\u201d Thomas said from her hometown of Naschitti on the Navajo Nation. \u201cI don\u2019t want my people to lose their culture. I want them to learn more about their ancestors, where they came from.\u201d<\/p>\n Jami Powell, curator of Indigenous art at Dartmouth College’s Hood Museum of Art, uses the phrase \u201ccolonial entanglements\u201d to describe the complexity of U.S.-tribal relations. She tells her students that things aren’t always black and white. <\/p>\n \u201cAnd it is OK to have feelings of ambivalence around these issues and the difficult histories that led to this current moment,\u201d said Powell, a citizen of the Osage Nation.<\/p>\n The Hood Museum is displaying the work of Native artists as part of its 250th commemoration. Both subversive and pointed, the pieces broaden the conversation and get visitors thinking about the next two centuries, Powell said.<\/p>\n Ensuring Native youth have a voice in that future is a driving force for Tracy Canard Goodluck, executive director of the Center for Native American Youth. <\/p>\n A member of the Oneida Nation of Wisconsin and of Mvskoke Creek heritage, Goodluck said the power of those voices rang loud and clear in essays submitted for a recent competition focused on the 250th. They touched on sovereignty, self-determination and maintaining a connection with land and culture.<\/p>\n \u201cThey know who they are, where they come from, their identity, their culture, their history,\u201d Goodluck says, \u201cand we need to create pathways for them to be able to share that with everyone.\u201d<\/p>\n ___<\/p>\n This story is published through the Global Indigenous Reporting Network<\/a> at The Associated Press.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n