Martinez 1

Erika Martinez

Professor Sexton

ENG 494A

May 1, 2020

Long Critical Paper

In an interview for Laura Coltelli’s 1990 book, Winged Words: American Indian Writers

Speak, Gerald Vizenor – an Anishinabe writer enrolled in the Minnesota Chippewa Tribe, White

Earth Reservation – tells readers, “You can’t understand without telling a story (Pulitano 146).”

He goes on to say, “There isn’t any center to the world but a story (Pulitano 146)”.

Similarly, Louis Owens – the late Choctaw and Cherokee writer – wrote in his 2001 book,

Mixedblood Messages: Literature, Film, Family, Place, “Stories, I learned very early, make the

world knowable and inhabitable (Owens 210)." The power of storytelling is evident throughout

Native American literature. Not only do the stories told within Native American literature help

us understand the world around us, they also help us understand the worlds within us. Many of

these stories provide a close look at the everyday lives of the members of very specific

communities. Oftentimes, these communities are those that have been and continue to be

marginalized within society. Leslie Marmon Silko, Terese Marie Mailhot, Louise Erdrich, and

Joy Harjo do just that. By pulling the reader into some of the most intimate moments in the lives

of women, they offer readers a profound understanding of womanhood that is almost as

heartbreaking as it is empowering. Although Silko, Mailhot, Erdrich, and Harjo take distinct

approaches in doing so, each of these four indigenous writers reflect the ideals of intersectional

feminism through their work. While Silko and Erdrich write multidimensional female characters

that challenge the way women – and, in particular, Native American women – are typically
 Martinez 2

imagined by non-native people within their 1977 and 1984 novels, Ceremony and Love

Medicine, respectively, Mailhot sheds a light on the treatment of women – particularly

indigenous women – in modern society within her 2018 memoir, Heart Berries. Similarly,

throughout her 1983 collection of poetry – She Had Some Horses, Harjo explores the theme of

female empowerment.

Within Ceremony, Laguna Pueblo Indian writer Leslie Marmon Silko reflects the ideals

of intersectional feminism through her well-developed, complex female characters that challenge

the harmful way that women – and, in particular, Native American women – are imagined by

non-native people. Night Swan is a perfect example of a woman that defies societal expectations

for how women should carry themselves. The former dancer that has performed in cantinas

across southwest America embraces her sexuality in a way women are often ridiculed for doing –

not only through her dancing, but through her choices in everyday life. Despite her poor

reputation in Cubero, the town she retired to after her granddaughter was born because she liked

its view of Mount Taylor – otherwise known as Tse-pi’na – she stays, undaunted by the

townspeople’s negative opinions of her. Earlier in life, she had even been sent packing from the

town of Las Cruces after a woman found her husband enchanted by her captivating dance, which

he had seen dance in a cantina. Ostracized from society, she continues to move from town to

town on her own terms - seemingly unbothered by the way in which society looked and

continues to look down upon her – often seeing her as nothing but a whore. She remains

confident in spite of this ostracization, and is even able to help Tayo on his journey toward

healing. After they have sex in her Cubero apartment, for example, she helps him on his journey

by helping him to see the power of his green eyes, a source of shame in his life since childhood,

when other children would tease him - oftentimes calling him ‘Mexican Eyes’. Although many
 Martinez 3

of the townspeople – Auntie included - see her as disposable and otherwise insignificant due to

the way she chooses to live her life, she plays a crucial part in the journey Tayo must undergo to

restore the balance between good and evil, ultimately saving them all. This is contrary to the way

in which women are typically imagined, as she is fiercely independent – and unapologetically so

- in a world that imagines women as submissive and incapable of making informed decisions for

one’s self. Night Swan, on the other hand, refuses to submit to societal standards for how women

should behave. Perhaps even more telling is her refusal to bear the shame others have tried so

hard to cast upon her throughout her life.

Within Love Medicine, Anishinaabe writer Louis Erdrich, too, reflects the ideals of

intersectional feminism through her well-written, complicated women that defy the problematic

way in which women – and, in particular, Native American women – are imagined by non-native

people. Although, on the surface, it may appear that Marie fulfills the traditional gender role set

out for women, Marie Kapshaw is a prime example of a woman that challenges societal

expectations for how women should behave. This is especially evident in the chapter, “Flesh and

Blood”. Within this chapter, Marie is made aware that Sister Leopolda – a racist white woman

that abused her at the Sacred Heart Convent in childhood – is dying. Upon being made aware of

this, Marie decides to take a trip up the hill - making it a point to put on her best dress and bring

her daughter, Zelda, in order to show the nun how well she has done in life. When Sister

Leopolda, instead, tells Marie that it is her husband, Nector, who has done well in life – Not

Marie - Marie insists that he would not be nearly as successful as he is had it not been for her.

Throughout the novel, the truth of her claim becomes increasingly clear. Marie loves Nector

despite the fact that he is an alcoholic cheater. Had it not been for her positive influence in his

life, he would not be the respectable man he is - much less the chairman of the tribe, getting to
 Martinez 4

have dinner with the governor and speak on behalf of the tribe in Washington D.C.. Later in the

chapter, when Marie reads Nector's letter telling her that he is leaving her for Lulu Lamartine,

who he has always been in love with, she keeps her dignity and begins to peel potatoes for dinner

like she would on any other day. Once she has peeled every potato in the house, she strips,

scrubs, and waxes the floor of the house, stating that she wants to be the type of person who

keeps her floors clean. She refuses to let Nector leaving her change who she is, speaking to her

profound strength as a woman. She even puts herself in a position of power over him by placing

the letter under the salt can, which will leave him to wonder whether he had put it under the salt

can or the sugar bowl for the rest of his life. Although Marie certainly fulfills the traditional

gender role set out for women in that she is motherly – even taking in June Kashpaw, as well as

her son, Lipsha Morissey and caring for them as though they were her own, she also defies the

way in which women are typically imagined. Despite doing the cooking and cleaning in the

Kashpaw house, she is also strong and powerful – even in moments of heartbreak - in a world

where women are seen as being altogether weak and powerless. After all, despite having to run a

house full of children, she maintains her composure upon reading the letter – even asserting her

dominance over Nector by leaving him to wonder whether she had read it at all.

Within Heart Berries, First Nation Canadian writer Terese Marie Mailhot reflects the

ideals of intersectional feminism by shedding a light on the treatment of women – and, in

particular, indigenous women - in modern society. In fact, the first line of her memoir is, “My

story was maltreated (Mailhot 1)”. However, she does not only write about the way in which her

own story was maltreated. She also writes about the way in which other indigenous women’s

stories were maltreated. For example, when she writes of the time that Paul Simon included her

mother, Wahzinak’s story in a Broadway play about her former lover, Salvador Agron – The
 Martinez 5

Capeman - she is telling the story of how Wahzinak’s story was maltreated. Within the play,

Simon reduced Wahzinak to nothing but a cliche - an "Indian hippie chick", as Variety magazine

referred to her as. Others saw her character as being just another “prison groupie”. Just like the

white service workers who had ignored Wahzinak her entire life – refusing to acknowledge her

until she went out of her way to make herself seen - Simon did not really see her. He did not see

her as a single mother of four, a social worker, or an activist - or even attempt to. Rather, he

portrayed her in the way that worked for his play – a stereotype. However, Mailhot does not only

write about how indigenous women’s stories are maltreated. She also writes about how

indigenous women themselves are maltreated, particularly in reference to sexual violence.

Throughout the memoir, it is clear that Mailhot is still processing trauma that has been inflicted

upon her by men in her life. At one point, while referring to her husband, Casey Gray, she even

writes, “Safety wasn’t familiar – not with men. Our life felt brighter together (Mailhot 2)”.

Towards the end of the memoir, in the chapter entitled “Thunder Being Honey Bear”, Mailhot

reveals the major source of this trauma -the sexual abuse she suffered at the hands of her father

as a child. Here, she describes how she has coped with this trauma – both as an adult and a child

– writing, “I spend hours convincing myself that no child is ruined – and the one inside of me is

worth remembering fondly. My mother’s looming spirit guides me some days, telling me that

nothing is too ugly for this world. I am not too ugly for this world (Mailhot 9)”. By speaking up

in regards to her sexual assault as well as her struggle to come to terms with it, Mailhot is

shedding a light on the constant threat of violence in the lives of women – but, in particular,

indigenous women – ultimately reflecting the ideals of intersectional feminism.

 Martinez 6

This is especially pertinent today, as awareness of the crisis regarding missing and

murdered Indigenous women and girls (MMIWG) continues to grow – making the presence of

violence in the lives of Native American women increasingly clear. According to the National

Congress of American Indians (NCAI) Policy Research Center’s 2013 policy insight brief,

“Statistics on Violence Against Native Women”, the U.S. Department of Justice has found that

“American [Indian] and Alaska [Native women] are 2.5 times as likely to experience violent

crimes – and at least 2 times more likely to experience rape or sexual assault crimes – compared

to [women of] all other races (NCAI Policy Research Center 2)”. In fact, a 61 percent of

indigenous women in the United States have reported being assaulted during their lifetime

(NCAI Policy Research Center 2). That means three out of every five Native American women

has been victims to violent crime. These rates are significantly higher than the second most

victimized group of women in the United States – African American women. 52 percent of

African American women reported being assaulted within their lifetimes (NCAI Policy Research

Center 2). This same policy insight brief also found that 39 percent of American Indian and

Alaska Native women will be victims of domestic violence at the hands of an intimate partner at

some point in their lifetimes (NCAI Policy Research Center 3). These rates are also significantly

higher than the second most victimized group of women in the United States – African American

women. 29 percent of African American women reported being subjected to domestic violence

by an intimate partner – a 10 percent difference (NCAI Policy Research Center 3). In their

shocking report for the Urban Indian Health Institute, “Missing and Murdered Indigenous

Women & Girls: A Snapshot of Data from 71 Urban Cities in the United States”, Abigail Echo-

Hawk – Chief Research Officer for the Seattle Indian Health Board - and Annita Lucchesi -

Executive Director of Sovereign Bodies Institute - state that the Center for Disease Control and
 Martinez 7

Prevention (CDC) has actually reported murder as the third-leading cause of death for American

Indian and Alaska Native women (Echo-Hawk & Lucchesi 2). Perhaps even more alarming is

that on some reservations, murder rates among indigenous women in the United States are over

ten times higher than the national average (NCAI Policy Research Center 2).

In terms of sexual violence, a study done by the U.S. Department of Justice found that

about 34 percent of American Indian and Alaska Native women will be raped at some point

during their lifetimes (Amnesty International 2). That means that more than one in every three

Native American women will be victims to rape. According to Amnesty International’s 2007

book, Maze of Injustice: The Failure to Protect Indigenous Women from Sexual Violence in the

U.S.A., this rate is significantly higher than the national average, one in every five women

(Amnesty International 2). These statistics are a testament to the pervasive sense of violence in

the lives of Native American women across the country. This is especially concerning under a

government that offers these women such minimal federal protection. After all, according to the

same Urban Indian Health Institute report, although there were a total of 5,712 reports of missing

American Indian and Alaska Native women and girls made throughout the year of 2016, NamUS

- the U.S. Department of Justice's federal missing persons database - has only logged 116 of

these missing person cases (Echo-Hawk & Lucchesi 2). There are also many barriers preventing

Native American women’s attackers from being prosecuted for their crimes. In fact, of all

reported violent crimes against Native American women that occur on tribal lands, United States

attorneys only attempted to prosecute about 48 percent (NCAI Policy Research Center 8). Of the

nearly 52 percent of cases that were declined, 67 percent were cases of sexual abuse (NCAI

Policy Research Center 8).

 Martinez 8

Within She Had Some Horses, Muscogee Creek poet Joy Harjo reflects the ideals of

intersectional feminism through her exploration of the theme of female empowerment. For

example, in the final poem of She Had Some Horses, “I Give You Back”, the narrator is

banishing any and all fear from within herself. By the end of the poem, she actually gains a sense

of empowerment upon realizing that it is this fear that has been holding her back all of this time.

Although she claims it hurts her as much as it would hurt to learn of the death of her children,

this realization inspires her to release it once and for all.

Although each of these four indigenous women do so in distinct ways, it is clear that

Leslie Marmon Silko, Terese Marie Mailhot, Louis Erdrich, and Joy Harjo all reflect the ideals

of intersectional feminism through their work. While Silko and Erdrich reflect the ideals of

intersectional feminism in Ceremony and Love Medicine, respectively, through their

multidimensional female characters that challenge the way women – and, in particular,

indigenous women – are imagined by non-indigenous people, Mailhot does so in Heart Berries

by shedding a light on the maltreatment of women – particularly indigenous women – in modern

society, and Harjo does so in She Had Some Horses through her use of the theme of female

empowerment.
 Martinez 9

Work Cited

Echo-Hawk, A. & Lucchesi, A.. “Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women & Girls: A

Snapshot of Data from 71 Urban Cities in the United States.” Urban Indian Health

Institute, 2018, www.uihi.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/Missing-and-Murdered-

Indigenous-Women-and-Girls-Report.pdf. Accessed 1 May 2020.

Mailhot, T. M. Heart Berries: A Memoir.  E-book, Counterpoint, Berkeley, 2018, pp. 1-9.

Maze of Injustice: The Failure to Protect Indigenous Women from Sexual Violence in the U.S.A..

Amnesty International, New York City, 2007, pp. 2.

National Congress of American Indians (NCAI) Policy Research Center. “Policy Insights Brief:

Statistics on Violence Against Native Women.” NCAI, 2013,

www.ncai.org/attachments/PolicyPaper_tWAjznFslemhAffZgNGzHUqIWMRPkCDjpFt

xeKEUVKjubxfpGYK_Policy%20Insights%20Brief_VAWA_020613.pdf. Accessed 1

May 2020.

Owens, L. Mixedblood Messages: Literature, Film, Family, Place. University of Oklahoma

Press, Norman, 2001, pp. 210.

Pulitano, E. Toward a Native American Critical Theory. University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln,

2003, pp. 146.

Martinez 10