Before the emergence of Hollywood and the studio system, moviemaking was something of a free-for-all, open to anyone that could afford it. In the US, that privileged group was almost exclusively white and male. Roles for minorities were usually crudely stereotypical, minor, and liable to be played by a white actor in yellowface, brownface, blackface or redface. As a result, some minority figures attempted to start their own alternatives. In 1916, Oakland resident Marion Wong made the first example of Asian-American Cinema with The Curse of Quon Gwon. A few years later, Anna Mae Wong and Sessue Hayakawa began making films. In 1918, John Noble invented Black Cinema with Birth of a Race. He was soon joined in his endeavor by Oscar Mischeaux.

 

True Native American cinema beat them both by almost a decade. The mainstream view of Natives at the time was generally less murderously hateful than those of contemporary Asians and blacks (or the Natives' ancestors). In fact, Natives were widely adored and fetishized, what Frank Chin would later term “love racism." Natives, regardless of reality, were reduced to mere metaphors and symbols… for stoicism, honor, strength, &c. Edward S. Curtis's 1914 In the Land of the Headhunters and Robert Flaherty's 1922 Nanook of the North have little to do with reality, but did reflect well-meaning white men’s attempts to portray their subjects with some respect, even if it meant they had to fictionalize and stage everything.

It's not that surprising, given our Hollywood history of Native Americans, that the media feel it necessary to coin a term like "Urban Indians." Since Native Americans exist in popular culture as stewards of nature who spend their lives camping under the stars and measuring times in "moons," the fact that millions of Native Americans live in cities doesn't jibe with our media-reinforced notions of race as it corresponds to population density. Thus "urban" is shorthand for black and "suburban" means white. Any exceptions would be similarly worth qualifying, like "suburban blacks" or "country Asians" (e.g. Henry Cho).

So anyway, Natives have a long history of being "urban." Before being decimated by disease, warfare, slavery and famine, Natives were responsible for creating some of the biggest, most-populated cities of their day. Here are some of my favorite Native American urban centers...

ANCIENT CITIES OF NATIVE AMERICA

 

Caral 

Caral was inhabited between roughly 2600 BC and 2000 BC and covered 66 hectares. It's one of the oldest towns in the Americas in what's today Peru) and was home to more than 3,000 members of what is now known as the Norte Chico Civilization. 

In the US, what the word "Latino" connotes varies regionally. Often, regardless of accuracy, in the southwest it means "Mexican;" in the northeast it means "Puerto Rican;" and in Florida, "Cuban." Indeed, those are the three largest populations of Latino-Americanos in the country, although obviously not the only ones. Each have their own distinct culture, history, and place in America. This entry is about the fourth largest Latino population, Salvadorans.

The flag of El Salvador

The indigenous people of what's now El Salvador are the Pipil. Today, 90% of Salvadorans identify as mestizos, in this case usually meaning of Spanish and Pipil backgrounds. Although only 1% of Salvadorans self-identify solely as Pipil, in reality the percentage is likely higher, but, due to prejudice, many Salvadorans are reluctant to embrace their Native side. 

It seems timely to think about the history of Native Americans with less than a week to go before Thanksgiving. And if you already dislike the US Government, prepare to be impressed, even astounded by the lows it has sunk to...It'll make you want to deface that cool, snide Andrew Jackson staring at you from your twenty dollar bills. You will see that the arrogant United States of America has its own history of genocide, one that has been going on for hundreds of years.

I watched the entire series We Shall Remain, a set of PBS documentaries about Native Americans' history once the settlers hit the continent's shores. The films cover brutal, unsettling material that unfolds in a deft, direct manner. It covers histories of the Cherokee, Shawnee, Apache, and others in episodes entitled "After the Mayflower," "Tecumseh's Vision," "Trail of Tears," "Geronimo," and "Wounded Knee." There are definitely some major tribes missing from the series, but hopefully their stories will also accessibly be told with such care in the future. There's still about 8+ hours worth of straightforward viewing here, and the films are made from careful, studied recreations, truly haunting photos, interviews and even found footage.

The most interesting and vital part of the films though, I found, is definitely the interviews conducted with Native people living today. This is particularly moving during "Geronimo," when ancestors of Geronimo, Cochise and others are interviewed. Their words and stories are intense, and the gravity of what their families have experienced is devastating. It is also particularly moving during the final film of the series, "Wounded Knee," which focuses on growing Native American activism in the 70s and the 1973 occupation of Wounded Knee by the radical American Indian Movement (AIM). The interviewees' memories are so fresh, and their hope and passion for The Movement is so strong. If you think things will have gotten better for Native people after making it through the first 4 portions of this series, think again! Just because the final film covers the post- hippie 1970s doesn't mean the government is any sweeter to Native Americans.

Although it's received little-to-no coverage in most mainstream media, clashes between Mapuche activists and the Chilean government have intensified as of late. Two days ago, thousands of Mapuche and other Chileans gathered around the country to protest plans for damming many of the country's rivers. This was only the latest round in a growing protest movement over land rights issues in Ngulu Mapu, the Mapuche homeland.


Just two weeks ago, a young Mapuche, Jaime Mendoza Collío, was shot in the back and killed by a Chilean police officer. The police were attempting to evict a group of about eighty Mapuche who were occuypying the San Sebastián farm. Following Collío's death, many Mapuche took to the streets of Temuco demanding direct talks with the Chilean president, Michelle Bachelet. The killing of Collío was only the latest death of a Mapuche at the hands of Chilean police. On January 3, 2008, 22-year-old Mapuche student Matias Catrileo was shot and killed by police. 17-year-old Alex Lemun was similarly shot and killed in November of 2002.


The Mapuche, whose claims to Ngulu Mapu stem from thousands of years of continuous presence, routinely clash with the Chilean governments as it sells off more and more of the Mapuche homelands to foreign mining companies which wreak considerable environmental destruction whilst reaping considerable profits. Meanwhile, large timber firms (most state-owned) continue to deforest the countryside. Most of the timber ends up in the US, at an annual profit of about $600 million. After the forests are destroyed, the timber firms replant the area with thirsty, non-native trees like eucalyptus. Those who speak out against what they call environmental racism are frequently arrested under the banner of counter-terrorism. The government regularly applies laws enacted during the Pinochet dictatorship to imprison activists, especially those belonging to Mapuche organizations like Coordinadora Arauco-Malleco (CAM).