They met with university president re native genocide

by Vincent Schilling

One week after 19-year-old Native American student Chiitaanibah Johnson of California State University, Sacramento says she was disenrolled from her U.S. History class for disagreeing with her professor over the existence of Native American genocide, Johnson and her family met with Sacramento State President Robert S. Nelsen to discuss the matter. Though Johnson and her family say the meeting was cordial and sincere, they feel disappointed and say they fear neither the school nor the president will be taking any action that will satisfactorily address their concerns.
President Nelsen agreed to meet on Thursday with Johnson as well as her mother, Martina Johnson, father Kurt Johnson and Cindy La Marr (Pit River and Paiute), Executive Director of Capitol Area Indian Resources, Inc. in Sacramento, an organization that advocates for the academic and cultural rights of American Indian students. Nelsen told the family and the University has told ICTMN in an email that the President will also be meeting with Professor Maury Wiseman, the professor involved in the matter, at a later time.
Johnson says she was comforted by the meeting’s informality but fears a viable solution may never happen. “The president was respectful, open and I didn’t expect it to be just him,” she said. “I thought someone would be recording it or there would possibly be a lawyer present, but there wasn’t.
“But when we pressed for a solution,” says Johnson, “the president told me that his hands were basically tied. I thought at least the professor’s class might be monitored or evaluated on some level. But the professor is still teaching and going on with his class.”
Cindy La Marr, who has worked with public schools and universities for many years for the benefit of Indian country, says she was not as impressed by Nelsen’s cordial demeanor. She told ICTMN that some of Nelsen’s proposed solutions were not sufficient. “I asked if the instructor would be required to attend this, and he said, ‘No.’”
La Marr says that when she and the family asked if there was going to be any disciplinary action against the professor, President Nelsen said Professor Wiseman was protected by his faculty’s labor union. La Marr says after the Johnson family’s repeated attempts to ask if the professor would be disciplined were deflected, they decided to leave. “I continually asked, ‘What is your plan?’” Martina Johnson said. “The President just told us, ‘It is out of my hands.’”
In addition to speaking to ICTMN, student Chiitaanibah Johnson also issued a written statement addressing her thoughts on the meeting.
“The President was fair, open and welcoming in hearing my concerns. I appreciated his candor regarding the bureaucratic and regulatory restrictions his office is subject to with regards to the limited actions he is allowed to take with regards to the issues at hand.
However, I am particularly concerned that while CSU-Sacramento officials are working to transfer me into another course, Professor Wiseman, under protection of the faculty teacher’s union and legal team, is still teaching under no observation or supervision while under investigation and that curriculum changes to actually address GENOCIDE are even less likely.
Having met with the CSU-Sacramento President, a fair and reasonable resolution to these issues appears unlikely within the current bureaucratic bounds of the university.
There are three very important points we want to make very clear:
Genocide is and always has been wrong.
Teaching otherwise is wrong.
Instructors demonstrating such lack of academic rigor and acting in a manner both aggressive and intimidating manner of stifling student questioning should be held accountable in a manner both fair and timely.”
Chiitaanibah Johnson’s father Kurt Johnson added to his daughter’s remarks and told ICTMN, “The professor’s statements were a product of a direct lack of academic rigor. Academic freedom does not preclude academic responsibility.”
ICTMN has reached out to Sacramento State regarding the meeting. University spokesperson Elisa Smith replied in an email with the following statement:
President Nelsen had an extensive, fact-gathering meeting with Ms. Johnson and her family as he attempts to achieve a positive resolution in this matter.  He also is meeting with Prof. Wiseman.
As the fact-finding continues, and because this is an ongoing personnel matter, we cannot comment further at this time.
In the meantime, President Nelsen’s message to the campus earlier this week speaks for itself:
We at the University believe in academic freedom, and we also believe in civility and rigorous academic research. Our standards must be high, and we must follow the processes that we have put in place to ensure that the rights of students and faculty are protected.
Johnson says when she first returned to the school after the incident, she felt as if people were looking her way but not overtly staring or being intrusive. Though she says she is disappointed in the outcome thus far, she is encouraged by the outpouring of support from Indian country.
“It is what it is. I had no idea what to expect based on what happened but I told myself not to be not to set on the idea that the professor would be reprimanded,” she says. “I thought they might make him apologize or something else. The president basically said his hands were tied and there was only so much he could do.
“I feel unresolved about the issue.  But my mom says, ‘There are Indian people all over the country that are supporting you because they know the truth and they know you stood up for them.’
“There is a conversation now,” says Johnson. “And people are talking about whether genocide has happened. My father said something that really affected me. He said, ‘Even if nothing else happens, the circulation of this story and the effects on conversations across the country are more than my own grandfather could have done.’ If I had done something like this back then, it could have gotten me killed. But here I am.
“I didn’t realize how good having the blessing of so many Indian people would feel. I’ve only known the natives of the outer rings of my family or in college, but I’ve never felt so connected to Indian country.”
Follow ICTMN’s Vincent Schilling on Twitter – www.twitter.com/VinceSchilling

by David Bacon

The Spaniards conquered the Zapotecs of the central valleys of Oaxaca, Mexico, almost 500 years ago, in an earth-shattering series of events. It changed everything in the lives of the conquered. So many died that many indigenous peoples came close to disappearing; some estimates hold that the indigenous population of the Americas was reduced by 90 percent in the two centuries following the conquest. The population drop was so great that the Spaniards later had to bring slaves to labor in their plantations on the Costa Chica (Oaxaca’s Pacific coast).
Such change and catastrophe, however, produced one of the world’s most beautiful dances: The Dance of the Feather. Today, it is performed in a number of towns in central Oaxaca, among them the weaving village of Teotitlan del Valle. In one of life’s ironies, the forced migration of the Zapotecs, driven from their homes by poverty and conquest, helped this commemorative dance survive.
The name of the city, Teotitlán, comes from Nahuatl and means “land of the gods”. Its Zapotec name is Xaguixe, which means “at the foot of the mountain”. It still retains its Zapotec culture and language. The dance is performed in the town plaza in front of the Preciosa Sangre de Cristo Church, begun in 1581 and completed in 1758. The church sits on the ruins of a Zapotec temple, which the Spanish destroyed.
The dance recalls the basic history of the conquest. At the time of the Spaniards’ arrival, indigenous people had been living in Oaxaca’s central valleys for 11,000 years. The first site of human habitation is not far from Teotitlan, in the Guilá Naquitz cave near the town of Mitla. The discovery of corncob fragments indicates that the world’s first people to cultivate corn lived there.
People speaking Zapotec in Oaxaca’s central valleys built towns with palaces, temples, ball courts and markets, coexisting and sometimes fighting with each other until 1457. That year the Aztec tlatoani, or ruler, Moctezuma invaded. First he conquered the towns inhabited by Mixtecs, then those of the Zapotecs. The Aztec invasion halted when Hernando Cortes arrived in the Yucatan, traveling up the coast of Tabasco in 1519. Cortes made alliances with the Aztecs’ enemies and marched on Tenochtitlan, their capital, massacring thousands of indigenous people at Cholula on the way.
By then, the first Moctezuma was dead. The second Moctezuma let Cortes and his soldiers into the city. Moctezuma was then taken hostage and later murdered. The city’s inhabitants rose up, forcing Cortes to flee, but they won only temporary respite. Cortes laid siege to Tenochtitlan and finally destroyed it, burying the huge temple pyramid under what is now Mexico City’s main cathedral and central plaza, the Zocalo. Moctezuma’s successor, Cuauhtemoc, was eventually captured and, with his death, the Aztec empire crumbled.
To form alliances against the Aztecs, Cortes needed a translator. First he found a priest who could speak Mayan, then a Nahuatl woman from the Gulf Coast who could translate between Mayan and Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs and surrounding peoples. Malinalli, or Doña Marina, was one of 20 women given to the Spaniards by the residents of Tabasco. She became Cortes’ lover and advisor, and bore Cortes’ first son, Martin.
Malinalli became known as the Malinche, an object of hatred and veneration ever since. She is blamed for the defeat of the feathered warriors of Tenochtitlan and the end of purely indigenous civilization in Mexico. But she was also the mother of one of the first children borne of this enormous clash. The Oaxacan Jose Vasconcellos, secretary of education in Mexico’s first post-Revolutionary government, called the mix a new race: la raza cosmica or “the cosmic race.” He and his intellectual companions held that Mexico had people of mixed indigenous, African, and European ancestry, and was therefore moving beyond the boundaries of the old world.
While the union of Malinalli and Cortes gave birth to the mestizo, this did not free indigenous people, who were forced into conditions close to slavery. When Cortes died, Martin became Marquis of the Valley of Oaxaca. His lands included 23,000 people living in 11,500 square kilometers of territory. The Spaniards set up the encomienda system, huge land grants that included the indigenous population, forced into slavery to “pay” for room, board, and religious instruction.
Martin, so the legend goes, invented a dance to dramatize the conquest of indigenous people by the Spaniards. Jorge Hernandez Diaz, an anthropologist at the Benito Juarez Autonomous University of Oaxaca, writes that there are three theories of the origin of the dance. In one, Martin celebrated the birth of twins by staging a fight between dancers representing the conquering Spaniards (headed by Martin himself in the role of his father) and the defeated native people. The roles of the dancers in the Dance of the Feather today are still the same: Cortes, his captains and soldiers, Moctezuma and his allies. The personality of Malinalli was split into the roles of two people: Doña Marina and the Malinche.
In Teotitlan del Valle, the dance also highlights another contradiction. Fifty years ago, the town was very poor and much of the traditional weaving craft that had created part of its historical identity was no longer practiced. That poverty, reinforced by economic reforms and trade agreements that undermined Oaxaca’s agricultural economy, forced many of the town’s residents to leave. They became migrants, first within Mexico and then across the border into the United States. As remittances began arriving to support the families left behind, expatriates also provided money to buy materials for weaving. With the influx of tourists anxious to buy rugs in traditional Zapotec designs, weaving workshops were reestablished.
Migrants saved money to buy the materials for the elaborate clothing and headdresses needed for the Dance of the Feather. Some returned home to fulfill the three-year commitment required of those wanting to perform the dance.
“Why do people make the commitment?” he asks. “These commitments have a religious and spiritual importance. [Benito Mendoza Mendoza, who played Moctezuma in 1977, says:] ‘In some cases we do it because the Lord helped us overcome our food situation, when we had no money. Others do it because of their faith. And other people do it because they had a personal problem, or were sick and got better.

Therefore, to give thanks to God that they were able to move forward they made the commitment. There are many reasons why people do it.’”