Stereotypes

There are two main stereotypes I absolutely hate about being Native American. The first is that we are savages. The second is that we are relics of the past. I’ve had to deal with both of those my entire life, from the playground in elementary school all the way up to present day.

The very foundation of this country is partially because of this stereotype. The final complaint against the King of Great Britain in the Declaration of Independence is “He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.” Basically, the colonists were mad that King George had recognized the rights of the local natives to their tribal lands and even had soldiers protecting them. This prevented the colonists from expanding further west. The use of the word “savages” wasn’t due to the actual behavior and customs of the tribes. It historically had been (and is still) used for the purpose of dehumanizing entire groups of people. Once the public sees a group as less than human, they use that to justify genocidal actions towards them. My tribe lost its language, religious beliefs, and most cultural practices as a result of genocidal colonists. We have been depicted in media as essentially brainless, war mongering animals since imperialist Europeans stumbled onto our lands. The word “savage” as a noun always makes my stomach turn.

That’s what I deal with when I’m seen. However, most of the time, I am not. I am invisible. I am disregarded. I do not exist. I am not even considered. Being considered a relic of the past presents itself in many ways. The most common that I experience is being asked the question “What ARE you?” when someone wants to know my ethnicity. A typical conversation that I’ve had multiple times is

Them: Where are you from?
Me: Here.
Them: I mean where are you FROM from?
Me: Literally here.
Them: But you look exotic.
Me: You’re the exotic one between us.
Them: So what ARE you?
Me: *walking away at this point*

This invisibility has also been quite dangerous to me. It took multiple trips to the ER in crushing pain before someone considered gallstones and I had to have my gallbladder removed. I asked why it wasn’t considered and was told I was a woman and too young for that. My race is on my chart and young Native American women have one of the highest risks of gallbladder disease, but none of the doctors knew that because they don’t learn about our medical risk factors. We’re not even included in school history textbooks after a certain point, so it’s easy for the non-native public to forget about us.

There are many other stereotypes that I endure as a Native American. All of them have affected my life negatively. From strangers to non-native family, I am seen through a lens that paints me in a bad light as soon as my race is known. It’s exhausting, and I’m tired.