On the Red Road Native Americans reclaim culture while dealing with stereotypes and prejudices

Story: Grace Dobush
Photos: Pat Jarrett

From the door of the lab, a young black man looks in at the group and asks, “What’s this?”

“This is a meeting of the Native American Student Association,” responds Lauren Yates, president of the organization.

Only three people have shown up for the organization’s meeting in the Oscar Ritchie computer lab.

Lauren Yates and Kandis Schoenfeld look at Yates' regalia. {larger}

“You all are Native American? You guys look white to me,” he says.

“That’s probably because we don’t look like the stereotype of Native Americans,” Yates says.

“What’s the stereotype?” he asks.

Yates explains that most people expect Native Americans to have dark skin and long black hair. Actually coloration varies from East to West and from nation to nation.

The black man doesn’t back down and says it’s “white privilege” to claim the heritage of minorities as they please.

Yates insists: “No, really, we’re Native American. I’m Eastern Band Cherokee from North Carolina.

“And I’m German.”

Native Americans on campus make up less than 1 percent of the student body at Kent State. Some have a hard time trying to keep traditions alive while making others understand what they’re all about.

“You all are Native American? You guys look white to me.”

The man leaves and the three NASA members are unsettled and angry.

“Don’t we love the cultural diversity on this campus?” Yates says sarcastically.

Chris Headworth, freshman anthropology major and a member of the Prairie Band of Potawatomi, says he gets that a lot, especially because his hair isn’t black and he has blue eyes. He moved to Ohio from Kansas four years ago, and it wasn’t as much of a problem there because people have aremore accustomed with Native Americans. But then he recalls being called a “prairie n-----” by his third grade teacher.

A few minutes later, the three are telling Indian jokes while eating frybread, a Native American treat that tastes like a cross between soft pretzels and county fair elephant ears, especially with a little sugar or honey.

One joke Yates tells has the punch line, “You left your injun running.”

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