Post by Okwes on Jul 15, 2007 16:01:28 GMT -5
Abenakis' legacy of equality
March 8, 2007
Another Martin Luther King Day has passed. A point often raised is that Vermont is among the whitest states in the nation. We must constantly challenge ourselves to treat African-Americans, Hispanics, Jamaicans and people of all ethnic backgrounds, with respect and dignity. There is great risk in identifying others largely by color and place of origin. By so doing, we inadvertently empower the forces behind some of our most pernicious racial problems, and we ignore the widening gap between differences in class and economic means.
In many Vermont towns, diversity is a matter of subtle shadings. Students in the schools I visit to explore cultural diversity often discover that their collective ancestries trace roots back to more than two dozen countries. Each of these cultures needs to be acknowledged, studied and celebrated for the strands it contributes to the fabric of our communities.
And what of the Abenaki, who might be considered — in the vernacular of today's racial politics — Vermont's largest minority? During the past quarter century I have worked with more than 75,000 students in Vermont schools. My observations: On average, up to 10 percent of Vermonters have Abenaki ancestry in their family tree. Vermont's venerable traditions of hunting, fishing and stewardship of the land, close-knit communities and local control are a legacy from the Abenaki.
I have also found that their peers frequently treat Abenaki children as "different." Schools work hard to help students understand that "different" is just that — nothing more and nothing less. Many schools now study Abenaki traditions in a way that honors and celebrates their rich culture and contributions to our world. Over time, fewer children of Abenaki and other Native American ancestries feel compelled to hide their identity in order to avoid being teased or bullied. In fact, many are now proud to share their culture.
But old attitudes persist, especially and ironically, in communities with higher numbers of Abenaki families. Vermont still has a way to go before freeing itself from lingering attitudes born of past prejudices. In the early 1920s and 1930s a state eugenics campaign incarcerated "undesirables" and subjected them to forced sterilization. Some of Vermont's asylums and prisons became local gulags, quietly rooting out individuals who were deemed "defective," including many of Abenaki and French-Canadian ancestry, plus Italians, Jews, Catholics and Irish. Under the sterilization law of 1931, criminals were lumped together with the poor and mentally ill.
It is ironic that our state and society — both of which have grown stronger because of close, long-term relationships with native peoples — are rife with divisions based on race, culture and gender. Europeans originally came here from monarchies where a person's birthright was a permanent place in a rigid caste system. Millions worked long and hard at the base of an economic pyramid that served the very few of extreme wealth at the top. Women were treated as chattel. But early immigrants to North America found an array of indigenous cultures whose respect for individual autonomy and freedom of expression was balanced by equality in social standing and in the distribution of food and material goods.
The country that we have become has adopted the native regard for individual liberties, but often neglects its companion, egalitarianism. At no time in the modern era has the social order and class structure of the United States more closely resembled the European aristocracy that the colonies revolted against more than 230 years ago. Our government and economic system have failed to deliver on the promise of our forefather's social contract with the people.
No society and no system of government is perfect. Our prejudices cling hard to the mind — wizened brown leaves chattering on cold winter beeches. As a state and a nation, we have long fed the seeds of individualism, but have often neglected the roots of social equality and economic justice. The values we nurture today will determine the Vermont, and the nation, we will become.
Michael J. Caduto presents programs on cultural diversity and the environment. (www.p-e-a-c-e.net) His most recent book is "Abraham's Bind: Bible Stories of Trickery, Folly, Mercy and Love" (SkyLight Paths, Woodstock, Vt.).
March 8, 2007
Another Martin Luther King Day has passed. A point often raised is that Vermont is among the whitest states in the nation. We must constantly challenge ourselves to treat African-Americans, Hispanics, Jamaicans and people of all ethnic backgrounds, with respect and dignity. There is great risk in identifying others largely by color and place of origin. By so doing, we inadvertently empower the forces behind some of our most pernicious racial problems, and we ignore the widening gap between differences in class and economic means.
In many Vermont towns, diversity is a matter of subtle shadings. Students in the schools I visit to explore cultural diversity often discover that their collective ancestries trace roots back to more than two dozen countries. Each of these cultures needs to be acknowledged, studied and celebrated for the strands it contributes to the fabric of our communities.
And what of the Abenaki, who might be considered — in the vernacular of today's racial politics — Vermont's largest minority? During the past quarter century I have worked with more than 75,000 students in Vermont schools. My observations: On average, up to 10 percent of Vermonters have Abenaki ancestry in their family tree. Vermont's venerable traditions of hunting, fishing and stewardship of the land, close-knit communities and local control are a legacy from the Abenaki.
I have also found that their peers frequently treat Abenaki children as "different." Schools work hard to help students understand that "different" is just that — nothing more and nothing less. Many schools now study Abenaki traditions in a way that honors and celebrates their rich culture and contributions to our world. Over time, fewer children of Abenaki and other Native American ancestries feel compelled to hide their identity in order to avoid being teased or bullied. In fact, many are now proud to share their culture.
But old attitudes persist, especially and ironically, in communities with higher numbers of Abenaki families. Vermont still has a way to go before freeing itself from lingering attitudes born of past prejudices. In the early 1920s and 1930s a state eugenics campaign incarcerated "undesirables" and subjected them to forced sterilization. Some of Vermont's asylums and prisons became local gulags, quietly rooting out individuals who were deemed "defective," including many of Abenaki and French-Canadian ancestry, plus Italians, Jews, Catholics and Irish. Under the sterilization law of 1931, criminals were lumped together with the poor and mentally ill.
It is ironic that our state and society — both of which have grown stronger because of close, long-term relationships with native peoples — are rife with divisions based on race, culture and gender. Europeans originally came here from monarchies where a person's birthright was a permanent place in a rigid caste system. Millions worked long and hard at the base of an economic pyramid that served the very few of extreme wealth at the top. Women were treated as chattel. But early immigrants to North America found an array of indigenous cultures whose respect for individual autonomy and freedom of expression was balanced by equality in social standing and in the distribution of food and material goods.
The country that we have become has adopted the native regard for individual liberties, but often neglects its companion, egalitarianism. At no time in the modern era has the social order and class structure of the United States more closely resembled the European aristocracy that the colonies revolted against more than 230 years ago. Our government and economic system have failed to deliver on the promise of our forefather's social contract with the people.
No society and no system of government is perfect. Our prejudices cling hard to the mind — wizened brown leaves chattering on cold winter beeches. As a state and a nation, we have long fed the seeds of individualism, but have often neglected the roots of social equality and economic justice. The values we nurture today will determine the Vermont, and the nation, we will become.
Michael J. Caduto presents programs on cultural diversity and the environment. (www.p-e-a-c-e.net) His most recent book is "Abraham's Bind: Bible Stories of Trickery, Folly, Mercy and Love" (SkyLight Paths, Woodstock, Vt.).