Tribal leaders can make a bigger imprint on our everyday lives than our local officials but most opt to not choose.
---
In the pages of a near forgotten tome, “Carbine and Lance,” the old warriors who stalked the Southern Plains still stride. Although all of them have long departed the rolling prairies that are now Oklahoma, one of them, Is-see-o, lassoed my attention with all the agility of the Cherokee cowboy, Will Rogers.
I-see-o (or Tahbonemah) was the last active member of a contingent of Indian scouts in the 7th Cavalry at Old Fort Sill near Lawton, OK. I understand why they call it Old Fort Sill. The new version in all its military glory bears no resemblance to the pale-gray stone post that is now a museum. But I ponder why Indian names are mostly hyphenated, although I am sure it’s quite elementary.
He rode many years as scout for the federal government. The natural native tendency is to bristle at this vocation but ignorance is not the better part of bliss. Research showed me I-see-o (I defer to convention here) also saw the historic Medicine Lodge Treaty in 1867 and took part in the Kiowa sun dance in the days when the Creator received this homage on the Washita River near Rainy Mountain.
The old Kiowa scout was venerated for his work and credited with maneuvering the tribes and the U.S. Army so that potential landmines were defused. It’s like he intuited that the tide of blue-coated soldiers would not ebb. I-see-o lived both the old way and the new.
And yet, assimilation was not a utopia for Indian people. Early on, Indians were given the yoke of individual land ownership then ridiculed for not enterprising it. I’ve seen old pictures where Indian women put on a corset and became encased by its convention. Likewise, top hats for the men folk did not assure acceptance.
They say that noted Comanche warrior, Tabananica, died of a heart attack as he was running to catch the train in Anadarko, OK. Chalk one up to modern living. But also count the overnight asphyxiation death of the Comanche, Yellow Bear, after he blew out the gas lamp in his room at the Pickwick Hotel in Fort Worth, TX.
Knowing that civilized life was not all that it was cracked up to be brings me comfort. I like knowing that the way saddled on the nations is not all for the best. Today, some of our greatest social ills like suicide, unemployment and domestic abuse are experienced to a higher degree in Indian Country than our racial counterparts. I detect a correlation here.
We also see the contagion in our political arenas. It’s true that Indians have the oldest known versions of confederate governments. The American system is reputed to be modeled upon it (e.g. Articles of Confederation). But while we have the freedom to opt out of voting in contemporary elections, we are forsaking our tribal elections as well.
I hear that a turnout of ten percent of registered tribal voters in an election is off-the-charts. I am told that the national voting average is eight percent of the population. Remarkable. In a recent Wichita tribal election, a grand total of 270-plus voters turned out to pick a chairman (this qualifies as near phenomenal with just over 2,500 members). Comparatively, OKs largest tribe, the Cherokee Nation, garnered just over 15,000 voters (of a reported 300,000 citizens) for the same type of election. The outcome did not grab me so much as the numbers did. This roughly equates to about five percent of their total populace.
This indicates we have well learned the lesson of voter apathy set before us by the dominant society. It’s a puzzle, though. Tribal leaders can make a bigger imprint on our everyday lives than our local officials but most opt to not choose.
This says a lot about what apathy is: absence or suppression of passion, emotion or excitement. Remedying this is a complex issue. We should consider that tribal voter apathy is a nonpartisan issue. Our government systems are not based on an electoral college which is why the popular vote remains integral. Here, blood degrees are inconsequential.
Registering tribal voters is only half the battle. It’s funny that on election day (usually a Saturday in tribal venues) where to eat lunch is more pressing than who makes the decisions. Mobile, healthy tribal members can be a jumpstart to the future.
As for I-see-o, he remained a scout until 1913.Then he was built a new frame house near Old Fort Sill (on the government dime) but he did not live in it. Instead, he pitched a tent by the house so that he could keep one of the sacred Kiowa medicine bundles in it. He was often seen sitting in silhouette by the tent smoking a long pipe.
Tahbonemah was secured the rank of senior duty sergeant for the rest of his life and drew this salary until he died in 1927. Historians say that his funeral (complete with taps) was the most lavish in Indian Country up until that time. I keep getting somehow that even though he accepted the new system he opted for his own way of doing things. It just happened to be distinctly traditional.
To me, independence like this is what the Fourth of July is all about.