THE RUNNER

Artwork courtesy of Nittaunis Anoquese Baker, Narragansett Indian Tribal Citizen (2025)

Where History is Shared and Stories Continue

January - March 2025



Kunoopeam Netompaûog

Welcome Friends

  Hello Readers.  You may have noticed our newsletter’s new name.  “The Runner” acknowledges and honors traditional ways of sharing news. 

Running was an important part of Indigenous cultures across this country.  Apache runners were said to be able to run 100 miles in a day across the desert.  And the Navajos’ Kinaaldá - the coming of age ceremony for young women - incorporates running two to three times a day for the four days of the ceremony.  The running ritual is said to make the women strong and prepare them for the adversities of life.  And, long before cellphones, the Internet, television, and daily newspapers, runners proved invaluable in providing communication and coordination between villages, towns, and territories.  During the Pueblo Revolt of 1680, the various pueblos communicated with each other via runners.  This coordination resulted in the Pueblos pushing the Spanish colonizers out of the Southwest. 

It was the same mode of long-distance communication for the Narragansett People.  Before the arrival of the Pilgrims in 1620, the Narragansett Tribe consisted of an estimated 30-35,000 people.  Their villages were spread across the area known today as Rhode Island.  Runners were essential in bringing news and passing information between the various villages.   For the Narragansetts, running was not based solely on competing, but connecting with community, ancestry, and a representation of something much larger than themselves.  

This tradition lived on throughout the generations.   Running to deliver messages as a child, Narragansett Tribal Member and Marathoner Ellison “Tarzan” Brown would run between family homes to deliver messages, continuing this tradition among a community devoid of telephones in the 1920s. Later as a marathon athlete, winner, and named olympian, he represented his community and country and became a hero among his people, not just for his running prowess, but for his representation during a time of invisibility and written erasure of the Narragansetts by the State of Rhode Island; a topic to be discussed in a later issue of The Runner.

This year our theme and purpose is “The Preservation of History, and each quarter the writers of this newsletter will feature historical and/or contemporary events that have had significant impact on the Indigenous peoples across Turtle Island (U.S.).  The majority of preserved history about the Natives who inhabited these lands for thousands of years and predate the United States has been written and taught by non-Natives. Each writing herein will share the Native perspective on these events and how they have impacted the existence and continuation of Native culture and peoples.  Contributions by Native people who lived and continue to live through the changes of these lands will be acknowledged and celebrated.  

~Education Team



HISTORY SHAPES OUR PRESENT…

THROUGH LANGUAGE AND IDENTITY

When newspapers such as The New York Times, The Spokesman Review, the Seattle Times, and more report the death of an individual stating they were “the last known speaker” of one of the many Indigenous languages of the many Tribes across the United States, it may prompt reflection on whether identity is solely defined by the language one speaks.  This should not be the case.  

The official language of the United States is English, yet if one travels across the Atlantic to its origin, the English spoken there sounds markedly different from the American version. Over time, words, spellings, pronunciations, and phonetics have evolved. This evolution is no different for Indigenous languages. Variations in speech, sound, and pronunciation exist within these languages, reflecting the diversity of their speakers.  In some instances, phonetic systems for Indigenous languages may no longer be available, yet written records have preserved aspects of these languages, fueling efforts toward language reclamation. While language is a cornerstone of cultural identity, it is not the sole defining characteristic of being Indigenous.  Among the more than 500 federally recognized tribal nations today, very few have fluent language speakers remaining. 

 The last fluent Narragansett language speaker likely lived in the early 19th century. Historical accounts tell of Esther Ninigret, daughter of Sachem Ninigret, who in the 1770s refused to speak English. Under her leadership, the Narragansett people maintained their ability to communicate in their language despite external pressures. But Esther was not the last of the Narragansetts.  While there are no fluent speakers of the Narragansett language today, it is far from lost. It lives on in written form, in naming ceremonies, in prayers, and in everyday words spoken with intention. The late Ella Sekatau, a respected tribal elder and historian, taught that as long as one word of the Narragansett language is spoken, it is not lost. For many, English may be their first spoken language, but the spirit of the Narragansett language lives within them, waiting to be awoken and reclaimed. I am one of those people.

The erasure of Indigenous identity persists today in documents we are required to use to identify ourselves—birth records, school registrations, employment applications, marriage certificates, and more. These documents often reduce identity to a single checkbox: Black, White, Hispanic, American Indian, and so on. But identity cannot be reduced to a single color. White, Black, Red, Yellow, and Brown are not cultures—they are colors, and they erase cultural specificity.  True identity reflects lineage, culture, and a nation of origin. People should have the option to identify as Irish, English, Jamaican, Haitian, Narragansett, Hopi, Haudenosaunee, Salish Kootenai, and more. Identity is a tapestry woven from lineage, culture, and ancestral roots—not a single box on a form.

 Indigenous identity is deeply rooted in communal ties. It is passed down through lineal connections and recognized within one’s community. Identity is inherited, not assumed, and should not be appropriated.  Colonial laws and policies that shaped the foundation of America wrought devastation on the over 800 tribal nations that existed pre-colonization. This devastation caused a widespread loss of identity among Indigenous peoples through forced assimilation. However, the truth lies within their communities—rooted in bloodlines, spiritual connections, community ties, and the land beneath their feet. Forced removal, boarding school policies, detribalization, and reclassification practices all attempted to sever these ties. For many, this loss is real, devastating, and traumatic. Yet the call of one’s ancestors remains powerful, and there is a growing movement to reconnect, reclaim, and return to cultural roots for collective healing.

~Chrystal Mars Baker



THROUGH LAW

Although colonial laws had already inflicted significant harm on Eastern Tribes, the damage persisted under Federal law.  As early as 1798, the newly formed Federal Government began the allotment of tribal lands. Allotment was the forced privatization of communal lands that had long supported tribal cultural ways of life. Treaties were made between tribes and colonial, state, and federal governments, enforcing foreign perspectives and legal systems onto Indigenous nations.

In 1830, President Andrew Jackson signed the Indian Removal Act, enabling the forced displacement of Tribes from their ancestral homelands. In his message to Congress, he justified this policy with the following statement:

“It gives me pleasure to announce to Congress that the benevolent policy of the Government, steadily pursued for nearly thirty years, in relation to the removal of the Indians beyond the white settlements, is approaching a happy consummation.”

Jackson outlined what he viewed as the advantages of this removal, stating:

“It will place a dense and civilized population in large tracts of country now occupied by a few savage hunters. It will separate the Indians from immediate contact with settlements of whites; free them from the power of the States; enable them to pursue happiness in their own way, and under their own rude institutions; will retard the progress of decay, which is lessening their numbers; and perhaps cause them gradually, under the protection of the Government, and through the influence of good counsels, to cast off their savage habits, and become an interesting, civilized, and Christian community.”

He further expressed his intentions with the following sentiment:

“Toward the aborigines of the country no one can indulge a more friendly feeling than myself, or would go further in attempting to reclaim them from their wandering habits, and make them a happy and prosperous people.”

These quotes, sourced from the Appendix to Gales & Seaton’s Register (21st Congress, 2nd Session, Vol. VII), reveal Jackson’s framing of the Indian Removal Act as a benevolent policy, despite its devastating impact on Indigenous peoples.

After 1871, Congress declared that no further treaties would be made with Tribes, and all future dealings would be managed through legislation. This shift was solidified by the passage of the General Allotment Act, or Dawes Act, on February 8, 1887.  Years before the Act’s passage, the Narragansett Indian Tribe faced similar challenges when the State of Rhode Island subjected their Tribal Council to an inquiry. Councilman Daniel Sekator captured the sentiment of the Tribal leadership during this time, stating:

“And I can’t see for my life wherein we shall be benefitted any more than we are at the present time by coming out as citizens under the present circumstances. We have now here a little mite of property that belongs to the Narragansett Indians, conveyed to them by their foreparents, and it belongs to them; and it does seem to me that they ought to have the handling of it as they see fit.” 

Despite such heartfelt testimony, the inquiry ultimately favored the State, resulting in the loss of the Narragansetts’ tribal status and any remaining communal land holdings with the exception of two and a half acres in Charlestown, upon which sits the Narragansett Indian Church Meeting House, were sold by the State.  For the Narragansetts, in just two to three generations, since European settlement, their land base was reduced from thousands of acres to just 2.5 in 1880.  This outcome reflects a troubling history in which the promises made by various U.S. governments have often proven false—on many occasions, at many levels, and across generations. This enduring legacy is one of the reasons why Tribes today continue to advocate for the enforcement of treaty agreements and challenge unjust laws.

~Chrystal Mars Baker

Good intentions or ill will?

The Dawes Act of 1887 was without doubt one of the most detrimental policies ever inflicted on Native Americans. Within a short period of time, tribes lost two-thirds of their communal land holdings and Indian nations were hurled into poverty.  It authorized the President of the United States to subdivide tribal communal landholdings into allotments for Native American heads of families and individuals.  This would convert traditional systems of land tenure into a government-imposed system of private property by forcing Native Americans to assume a capitalist and proprietary relationship with property that did not previously exist in their cultures.

Even before the United States was established, European settlers pursued various methods to address the so-called “Indian Problem,” ranging from massacres to forced relocation. Richard Henry Pratt, the architect of the Indian boarding school system, explicitly designed these institutions with the intent to “kill the Indian, save the man.” The Dawes Act reflected a similar mindset. Forced removal facilitated land grabs by settlers and supported westward expansion.   It sought to force the Indians to live like a white man.  Between 1887 and 1934, Native Americans lost control of about 100 million acres of land – or about 66 percent of the land base they held in 1887.  The loss of land ownership and the break-up of traditional leadership of Tribes produced potentially negative cultural and social effects that have since prompted some scholars to consider the act as one of the most destructive U.S. policies for Native Americans in history.  Sen. Henry Teller, of Colorado, understood the real point behind the Dawes Act.

 “The real aim [of allotment] was to get at the Indian lands and open them up to settlement. The provisions for the apparent benefit of the Indians are but the pretext to get at his lands and occupy them,” Teller said. “If this were done in the name of greed, it would be bad enough; but to do it in the name of humanity ... is infinitely worse.”

The Narragansett Nation suffered from this fate nearly a decade before the Dawes Act was even passed.

Jumping the gun – and ignoring the 1790 Non-Intercourse Act, which gave the federal government control over Indian land – the State of Rhode Island arbitrarily “de-tribalized” the Narragansetts, parceled off their land to 324 “Indians” and then seized the remaining tribal property.  It took the Narragansetts nearly a century to regain their status as a federally-recognized tribe.  

~ John Christian Hopkins





THROUGH ACTIONS:

Indigenous activism is deeply rooted in history and is a response to centuries of encroachment, displacement, and injustice. The gradual and relentless encroachment upon Native lands and the imposition of new boundaries have long demanded action, compelling Indigenous people to rise in defense of their rights, cultures, and identities. Far from being passive, Native communities have continuously asserted themselves through various means—whether by grassroots movements, legal battles, cultural revitalization efforts, or direct action. This unwavering persistence not only honors their ancestors’ resilience but also inspires current and future generations to continue the struggle for justice and sovereignty.

Activism in the form of resistance has early beginnings through the actions of  Indigenous groups, including the  Wampanoag, Nipmuc, and Narragansett during the King Philip’s War aka War for New England.  The Narragansett Sachem, Canonchet, when challenged by the governor of Plymouth to release Wampanoag who were in Narragansett safety, resisted and emphatically declared that,

“Neither a Wampanoag, nor the pairings of a Wampanoag’s nails shall I deliver to the English.”

1906 Photo Great Swamp, South Kingstown, RI

Thus, a surprise attack by the combined forces of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Plymouth Colonies was launched and the Great Swamp Island fort was surrounded, resulting in the burning and killing of more than half of the multi-Tribal families who had taken refuge there.  In the aftermath of devastating losses and in defiance to the tragic events of the Great Swamp Massacre on December 19, 1675, the Narragansett and their fellow refugees in an act of resistance, resilience and retaliation burned Colonial settlements on their way to a safe location. These actions were not merely aggressive but were defensive measures against the settlers’ relentless expansion, which threatened Native sovereignty and survival. 

In the 1880s, Rhode Island continued pursuing efforts of Indigenous land dispossession.  However, the resistance of these communities and need for self-determination can be heard through the words of Narragansett Tribal Councilman Abraham Champlin. Responding to an inquiry that ultimately led to the illegal detribalization of his people and the sale of remaining communally held lands, he expressed:

“It is not the tribe that asks for this.  …They propose to see what they can make out of the tribe, or see if they can overthrow the tribe and sell out a portion of this land.  And what is it for?  I have made out to hold the property and keep it, and now I have a guardian appointed to handle this property.  The guardian, instead of seeing what would be beneficial for me, and seeing how the property should be improved so that I might get profit out of it, manages it as he thinks it ought to be managed, sets off a portion of the land, and intrudes upon privileges that I had before; and even my friends at last pinched my lot up so much that I hardly had anything left, and while I had quite a farm at the start, my guardian has took it about all away, while he was watching for my good."

Throughout history, various movements have emerged to resist erasure and ensure the continuation of Native cultures, identities, and communities. The Land Back Movement is a prominent example, focusing on reclaiming ancestral lands and restoring Indigenous rights to manage their territories and practice traditional stewardship. This movement employs diverse strategies, including purchasing land from private owners or the government, filing legal claims based on historical treaties or injustices, and organizing protests against development projects on or near ancestral lands. While not all efforts have succeeded, significant progress has been made, and notable victories achieved.

One such movement was the occupation of Alcatraz Island, which took place in the 1960s. The first attempt occurred in 1964, when five Sicangu Lakota arrived on Alcatraz and declared it Indian land, citing the 1868 Fort Laramie Treaty that stated abandoned federal land could revert to the Sioux. However, their occupation lasted less than four hours. In the weeks that followed, the U.S. Attorney rejected their claim as unfounded, and the U.S. General Services Administration reclaimed custody of the island. Plans were made to transform Alcatraz into a recreational park, with a 1969 deadline.  In November 1969, Native people returned to Alcatraz in a symbolic act of reclamation. This time, the occupation grew into a full-scale effort, lasting until June 1971. Although it ultimately did not succeed in reclaiming the island, the occupation brought widespread attention to Indigenous struggles for self-determination and awakened the American public to their ongoing fight for justice.

Land is culture, culture is identity; the loss of both is devastating.  Orange Shirt Day, also known as the National Day of Remembrance of Indigenous Boarding Schools, was established to shed light on the destruction caused by the residential school system to Native children, cultures, and ways of life.   The boarding schools were designed to “civilize” Native children and force their assimilation into white culture—a form of cultural genocide. Children were forcibly taken from their families, who were often threatened with imprisonment if they refused to comply. In some cases, children were outright stolen, leaving parents in anguish, wondering and worrying about their whereabouts.  

To sever ties with their families and communities, children were sent to schools as far as 5,000 miles away from home. Some, unaware of the distance or location, attempted to escape, braving harsh weather and conditions on foot. Tragically, many of these attempts ended in death, leaving parents with no answers about their children’s fates.  Observed annually on September 30th, Orange Shirt Day represents a first step toward healing and truth and reconciliation, acknowledging this dark chapter of history and honoring those who suffered. 

Activism and resistance remain central to Indigenous struggles, as demonstrated by movements like Water is Life (#NoDAPL; Standing Rock Protest 2016). This powerful campaign, supported by both Indigenous and non-Indigenous allies, fought against an oil pipeline that threatened clean water sources and sacred sites. Among the more than 300 tribes that joined the protest were members of the Narragansett Indian Tribe.

The following year, in September 2017, activism continued thousands of miles away on Rhode Island soil. Indigenous and non-Indigenous allies united once again, this time to oppose Invenergy’s plan to construct a power plant in  Burrillville, RI. The company, along with certain Narragansett Tribal leaders, had entered into an illegal agreement—contrary to the Tribe’s historic Constitution, which requires full Tribal Body approval—to use a well belonging to the Narragansett Indian Tribe. This well, fed by a natural aquifer in the Pawcatuck River Basin, was intended as a water source to cool the power plant’s turbines.

When this plan became public, members of the Narragansett Tribe vehemently opposed it, leading to the defeat of the water withdrawal contract and ultimately nullifying the agreement. These efforts demonstrated the enduring spirit of resistance and the commitment to protecting Tribal sovereignty and natural resources.

The history of Indigenous activism is a testament to resilience, resistance, and the unyielding pursuit of justice. From the defiance of colonial expansion during the King Philip’s War to modern movements like Water is Life and the fight against the Invenergy power plant, Indigenous communities have consistently stood up against threats to their sovereignty, culture, and resources. These efforts—whether through direct action, legal challenges, or cultural revitalization—highlight the enduring strength of Native peoples and their allies in the face of centuries of injustice.

Through movements like the Land Back initiative, the occupation of Alcatraz, and Orange Shirt Day, Indigenous activism not only honors the struggles and sacrifices of past generations but also lays the foundation for healing, reconciliation, and the continued fight for self-determination. Each of these actions underscores the vital truth that land, culture, and identity are inseparable and worth defending for future generations.

~Chrystal Mars Baker








BOOK NOOK:   

We Are Still Here written for children by enrolled Cherokee author Traci Sorrell writes about important events such as relocation and assimilation to provide an understanding about the history of Native people in the United States.   It speaks to how the forming of this country under the leadership of those who immigrated, settled, colonized, and now govern here changed what was the Indigenous landscape and how that affected the Indigenous people who were always here.  So many laws, treaties, and more will be shared in this book.   What you read here, may not be taught in your schools.  This is an important book to read and share with others.   

To hear the author speak about why she wrote this book, click here.

To hear this book read aloud, click here.

 

Another recommended book for teen readers is An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States For Young People, by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz and adapted by Jean Mendoza, and Debbie Reese (enrolled citizen at Nambé Owingeh, a federally recognized tribe).  This is a good resource to support your public or private school education.  This young readers edition challenges laws you may or may not have heard of such as the Doctrine of Discovery, Manifest Destiny, and the often used untruth as the United States as a “nation of immigrants.”  In this book you will learn about the continuous Indigenous genocide not written or recorded in textbooks.  The book includes discussion topics, archival images, maps and recommendations for more reading and more.  An important read to learn the truth about the country we all live in and share, but not taught in mainstream classrooms.

 

Captured during New England’s King Philip’s War, the young son of the Wampanoag sachem is sold into slavery in the West Indies. But he harbors the desire to taste freedom once more, and to return to his woodlands home. To do so he must escape the chains of his Spanish master, evade the terrible Cimaroons and conquer a land populated by wild beasts, poisonous serpents and man-eating alligators. If he survives those Herculean labors, Carlomagno’s journey will have only begun—for he must somehow find his way past the savage buccaneers stalking The Spanish Main! Hopkins, a member of the Narragansett Indian Tribe of Rhode Island, is a descendant of King Ninigret, patriarch of the tribe’s last hereditary royal family. “I like to blend real history with fiction,” Hopkins says. “What I have done here is to take a child that vanished from history and breathed new life into him.” *Join Tomaquag Museum Educators for a discussion of Carlomagno during our first virtual book club event on Tuesday, January 28, 2025 (7-8 pm)

To register for this event, click here.

















RESOURCES:

At Tomaquag we are continuously doing the work of educating new generations of children as well as the general public about the lives, traditions and life changes of the Indigenous peoples of Rhode Island and neighboring communities.  Follow us on our website at tomaquagmuseum.org, Youtube and Facebook. Check out these resources!

To learn more about Chicken of the woods mushroom click here.

For book reviews click here.

To purchase books and support an Indigenous business and authors, click here.

To support Tomaquag museum, other Indigenous businesses, and artists, shop our store here.



 

Looking for More Educational Resources? Check out the following: