Indian Blood
I’m just a plainspoken Colorado criminal defense lawyer, but the way I see it…
Like Elizabeth Warren, my maternal grandmother used to tell me I was one sixteenth American Indian, half of that Comanche and the other half Cherokee. At least that’s the way I remember it. Seems reasonable: both tribes are an extremely well-shot arrow’s flight from where my mother was born in Texas.
Like Elizabeth Warren, my maternal grandmother may have exaggerated, or I may have misremembered what she said, because later I learned from my older sister that I’m probably only one thirty-secondth American Indian. That means there’s just the tiniest Comanche living inside my body in search of just the tiniest Cherokee.
Unlike Elizabeth Warren, I never used that information, bogus or not, to try to get into a better college or land a better job. But I always did feel some pride and satisfaction knowing that at least those tiny parts of me deserved the land I was living on.
The people who fully deserved the land they were living on, actual indigenous Americans, have struggled since first they met the people from whom I have mostly descended. Their continued struggle is documented by the Justice Department in two articles published earlier this year in its Journal of Federal Law and Practice.
The articles detail law enforcement and prevention, legal, prosecution, advocacy, and healthcare aspects of missing or murdered indigenous persons, with a particular focus on children. American Indians experience two and a half times the national rate of violent crime, and the highest victimization rates for both men and women, across all ages, places of residence, and incomes. More rape, sexual assault, aggravated and simple assault. More interracial attack.
The articles are a comprehensive attempt to address these issues, and perhaps promote Native American health and healing.