In this captivating collection of unpublished and published essays, one of our most important scholars, Paula Gunn Allen, explores the symbiotic relationship between Native American culture and the larger Western world. Through her own history and that of other Native peoples, she searches for a connection that will link the eco-spiritual and implicitly multicultural heritage to the demands of an increasingly global and culturally unilateral community.

This pathbreaking book documents the transformation of reproductive practices and politics on Indian reservations from the late nineteenth century to the present, integrating a localized history of childbearing, motherhood, and activism on the Crow Reservation in Montana with an analysis of trends affecting Indigenous women more broadly. As Brianna Theobald illustrates, the federal government and local authorities have long sought to control Indigenous families and women's reproduction, using tactics such as coercive sterilization and removal of Indigenous children into the white foster care system. But Theobald examines women's resistance, showing how they have worked within families, tribal networks, and activist groups to confront these issues. Blending local and intimate family histories with the histories of broader movements such as WARN (Women of All Red Nations), Theobald links the federal government's intrusion into Indigenous women's reproductive and familial decisions to the wider history of eugenics and the reproductive rights movement. She argues convincingly that colonial politics have always been--and remain--reproductive politics. By looking deeply at one tribal nation over more than a century, Theobald offers an especially rich analysis of how Indigenous women experienced pregnancy and motherhood under evolving federal Indian policy. At the heart of this history are the Crow women who displayed creativity and fortitude in struggling for reproductive self-determination.

In the 1970s the Quinault and Suquamish, like dozens of Indigenous nations across the United States, asserted their sovereignty by applying their laws to everyone on their reservations. This included arresting non-Indians for minor offenses, and two of those arrests triggered federal litigation that had big implications for Indian tribes’ place in the American political system. Tribal governments had long sought to manage affairs in their territories, and their bid for all-inclusive reservation jurisdiction was an important, bold move, driven by deeply rooted local histories as well as pan-Indian activism. They believed federal law supported their case. In a 1978 decision that reverberated across Indian country and beyond, the Supreme Court struck a blow to their efforts by ruling in Oliphant v. Suquamish Indian Tribe that non-Indians were not subject to tribal prosecution for criminal offenses. The court cited two centuries of US legal history to justify their decision but relied solely on the interpretations of non-Indians. In Reclaiming the Reservation, Alexandra Harmon delves into Quinault, Suquamish, and pan-tribal histories to illuminate the roots of Indians’ claim of regulatory power in their reserved homelands. She considers the promises and perils of relying on the US legal system to address the damage caused by colonial dispossession. She also shows how tribes have responded since 1978, seeking and often finding new ways to protect their interests and assert their sovereignty. Reclaiming the Reservation is the 2020 winner of the Robert G. Athearn Prize for a published book on the twentieth-century American West, presented by the Western History Association.

The first person of color to serve as vice president, Charles Curtis was once a household name but has become a footnote in American history. As a mixed-race person who became a public figure in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, his story is more relevant today than ever. He was constantly forced to choose whether to be Indian or white. Society would not let him be both. When his temper flared it was his “savage nature” coming through; when he presided over the United States Senate with an unprecedented knowledge of the rules and procedures, it was evidence of his “civilized” ancestry. Charles Curtis was born into Bleeding Kansas and came of age during the most turbulent of times. His father participated in the violence, as a Kansas Redleg avenging the actions of Missouri bushwhackers. As Civil War evolved into the Plains Indian Wars, Curtis was an eyewitness as his own people were starving and even the most powerful of tribes were confined to reservations. These forces shaped his philosophy and perspective. To this day he holds the distinction of being the only person of Native American heritage to be elected the second highest office in the land. He served as the 31st vice president of the United States from 1929 to 1933 under Herbert Hoover. Private and pragmatic, he became a respected statesman championing citizenship for Native Americans and rights for women. But his path of inclusion was perceived by others as destroying tribal sovereignty. Perhaps he realized that. But in his experience the most powerful force on earth was the federal government, and he learned to play the government game and to be better at it than almost anyone else.

Once Indians had private property, reformers reasoned, they would practice agriculture and eventually adopt "American" economic and natural rules."--BOOK JACKET.