Jim Crow Museum
1010 Campus Drive
Big Rapids, MI 49307
By Arlene Hirschfelder and Paulette F. Molin
Published February 22, 2018
A common belief in the contemporary United States, often unspoken and unconscious, implies that everyone has a right to use Indians as they see fit; everyone owns them. Indianness is a national heritage; it is a fount for commercial enterprise; it is a costume one can put on for a party, a youth activity, or a sporting event. This sense of entitlement, this expression of white privilege, has a long history, manifesting itself in national narratives, popular entertainments, marketing schemes, sporting worlds, and self-improvement regimes.
From the earliest period of European colonization, images of Indians found expression in early drawings, engravings, portraiture, political prints, maps and cartouches, tobacconist figures, weather vanes, coins and medals, and books and prints. Initially, depictions of Native males and females were used to symbolize the North American continent in the international iconography of the day, representations that proliferated. The Indian Queen, an emblematic figure in use by the end of the sixteenth century, symbolized the Western Hemisphere. Her successor, the Indian Princess, became representative of the American colonies. During the Revolutionary period, America was portrayed as a feathered Indian defying British tyranny in printed materials of the day.
As the United States grew, it developed a mythology that helped provide Americans with a laudable national heritage while serving to rationalize the dispossession and conquest of indigenous peoples. As National Museum of the American Indian curator Cécile R. Ganteaume points out, “American Indian imagery has been used by the federal government to distinguish the United States from other nations and to define the nation for its citizens, by U.S. armed forces to express military might, by American corporations to signify integrity and by designers . . . to add luster and cachet to commercial products.”
Institutionalized throughout the nation and exported to other countries, these images and others include dual portrayals of the good Indian (those who help Europeans) and the bad Indian (those who resist Europeans), nostalgic vanishing, brave warriors, romantic princesses, and countless ignoble images of brutality and degradation. Such representations obliterate or mask the realities of tribal nations struggling to maintain their populations, lands, resources, and sovereignty.
Questions about indigenous people often begin with terminology. “At the museums and on social media,” Kevin Gover, director of the National Museum of the American Indian, comments, “people ask at least once per day when we are going to take ‘American Indian’ out of our name.” As he responds, “Native Americans use a range of words to describe themselves, and all are appropriate. Some people refer to themselves as Native or Indian; most prefer to be known by their tribal affiliation . . . if the context doesn’t demand a more encompassing description.” With respect to Canada, Gover notes that “terms such as First Nations and First Peoples are preferred.”
American Indians are richly diverse, yet all too often their public portrayals—in books, advertisements, shop signs, terminology, and even children’s toys and games—are greatly at odds with actual Native peoples and cultures. As the National Congress of American Indians points out, “There are 567 federally recognized Indian Nations (variously called tribes, nations, bands, pueblos, communities and native villages) in the United States. Approximately 229 of these ethnically, culturally and linguistically diverse nations are located in Alaska; the other federally recognized tribes are located in 35 other states.” In addition, there are state recognized tribes across the country as well as other differences.
This essay explores selected themes centered on centuries-old stereotypes of American Indians: “Tomahawks and Knives”: Stereotypical Violence; “Words Are Weapons”: Language Representations; “Stereotypes Sell”: Commercialization of Indians; “Self-Shaping”: Playing Indian; “Braves” and “Chiefs”: Indian Mascots; and “I is for Indian”: World of Children. It is illustrated with images from the Jim Crow Museum, drawn from its collection of objects depicting Native Americans and consistent with its goal to tell stories of injustice towards all groups.
Almost any portrait that we see of an Indian, he is represented with tomahawk and scalping knife in hand, as if they possessed no other but a barbarous nature. Christian nations might with equal justice be always represented with cannon and ball, swords and pistols.
Throughout U. S. history, Euro-Americans committed countless acts of violence against Native people. Such acts include extermination or genocide, theft of Indian lands and resources, captivity and enslavement, forced removals from homelands, and schooling aimed at destroying Native cultures.
Violence continues today. A study by the U.S. Department of Justice shows that “American Indian and Alaska Native women and men suffer violence at alarmingly high rates.”
In an American Psychiatric Association blog post, research scientist Melanie Peterson-Hickey observes that high suicide rates among Native Americans are well documented, noting that the “trauma resulting from a history of race-based policy, discrimination and oppression has significant and longstanding impact.”
Nonetheless, as Tuscarora Chief Elias Johnson has pointed out, American Indians are represented as barbarous, with tomahawk and scalping knife in hand. In contrast, Euro-Americans are depicted as innocent victims of savagery, especially from Indian males.
It is believed that European representations of Native people as violent date back to as early as 1591, when engraver Theodor DeBry engraved and published artist Jacques LeMoyne’s 1564-65 drawing of Indian scalping. Furthermore, from the 17th to the 19th centuries, non-Indian observers portrayed Indians intent on “savage war” more violent than “civilized” combat of European and American governments. Increasingly lurid details of Indian savagery also appeared in captivity narratives, published from the 1600s to the 1800s, accounts of non-Indians captured and held prisoner by Indians. Dime novels, inexpensive booklets first marketed in 1859, became popular as well. This bestselling fiction portrayed Indians as savages preying on defenseless Euro-Americans.
Wild West shows, performed across North America and Europe from the late 1800s into the 20th century, dramatized Indian attacks on stagecoaches and cabins as well as mock battles between cavalry and Indians. William “Buffalo Bill” Cody and other showmen, including Plains Indians, drew huge audiences. These shows, and related influences, inspired filmmakers to produce Westerns depicting hordes of Indians attacking Euro-Americans. As a matter of fact, many American Indians were taken captive by non-Indians, tortured, incarcerated, murdered, and expelled into slavery. Because Europeans and Euro-Americans colonists threatened Native peoples, many resisted mightily to defend their families and homelands.
The ongoing perception of Indians as dangerous contributes to negative expectations, interactions, and consequences. Thus, Indians are incarcerated at high rates, encounter discrimination and hate crimes, and experience other negative impacts. Stereotyped Indian violence also leads non-Indians to fear Native people.
Nonetheless, the “barbarous nature” representation of Indians, voiced by Elias Johnson, continues to pervade American culture via school curricula, books and toys, sports teams, media advertisements, and other means. Such representations prevent others from seeing Native people realistically, including in a range of roles, settings, and occupations.
In contrast to the inane stereotype of the Indian as soundless, we know from the vast storehouse of our oral traditions that Aboriginal peoples were peoples of words. Many words. Amazing words. Cultivated words. They were neither wordless nor illiterate in the context of their linguistic and cultural roots.
Although more than 300 Native languages existed in what is now the continental United States, “as different from each other as Turkish, English, and Chinese,” that number greatly diminished in the aftermath of European colonization. Indigenous population loss through disease and war exacted a toll as did ongoing measures to Europeanize and Christianize Native people at the expense of their own cultures and languages. Such measures included the establishment of mission and government boarding schools to implement English-only and other harsh policies. As federal commissioners wrote, “their barbarous dialect should be blotted out and the English language substituted.”
With English, a lexicon of words and phrases became entrenched, a shorthand way to refer to all Native people, language reflecting stereotypical attitudes and behaviors. Savage, pagan, injun, brave, buck, chief, redskin, squaw, papoose, and other terms became commonplace. The negative impact was heightened with the addition of adjectives such as wild, dirty, pesky, sneaky, and worse. “In an abusive society,” activist Suzan Shown Harjo points out, “language is a control mechanism . . . and words are weapons used to signal status information, such as who are the inferior and superior folks.”
“Words such as savage, buck, squaw, and papoose,” author Mary Gloyne Byler emphasizes, “do not bring to mind the same images as do the words man, boy, woman and baby.” While some words (squaw, papoose) can be traced to specific Native languages, they have been removed from their cultural origins and turned into generic, pejorative labels. Other terms may have been benign, but have been weaponized over time, also by context. Even Pocahontas, the name of a historical figure, is misused as a slur.
Compounding slurs, media such as Hollywood films and Wild West shows contributed to the notion that American Indians, regardless of linguistic background, speak a fictional, substandard version of English. Variously described as Hollywood or Pidgin English or “Tonto-speak,” its grammatical markers include formulaic grammar, including the use of “um” (“speak-um”) and “me” instead of “I” (“me speak-um”). This language became entrenched, endlessly repeated across time and place. It portrays Indians as silent and wordless or incapable of speaking proper English or other “civilized” languages.
Stereotypes sell. To this day, consumers recognize the stylized Indian chief on cans of Calumet baking powder and the kneeling Indian maiden on packages of Land O’Lakes butter.
For hundreds of years, merchants have used images of American Indians to advertise and market merchandise. Products include tobacco, associated with Native Americans, advertised via tobacconist figures, or cigar store Indians, and more. According to author Ralph Sessions, “English tobacconists were among the first to capitalize upon the image of the Native Americans.” Figures, intended to represent the inhabitants of the New World, advertised shops carrying the “Indian weed.” “The earliest visual evidence of the use of a tobacconist figure in America,” Sessions notes, appears outside a tobacco shop depicted in an 1810 watercolor by painter Baroness Hyde de Neuville.
The tobacconist figures, made from wood or cast iron, soon became popular across North America. At first, “the female figure . . . was by far the more popular, outnumbering male figures four to one.” Omnipresent as today’s neon signs and billboards, these figures usually appear as generically “Indian.” Cigar store Indians and other products associated with tobacco continue to appear across commercial venues.
Marketers also invoked Native associations with herbs and plants to sell medicinal concoctions. Popular during the 1800s, Indian medicine shows, a number featuring Indian or Indian-impersonator performers, pitched a range of patent or proprietary (across the counter) nostrums or remedies as cure-alls, among them Kickapoo Indian Salve, Big Chief Liniment, and Indian Stomach Bitters. The burgeoning advertising industry was patently instrumental to the rise of medicine shows during the period. As author Brooks McNamara points out, “Nostrum advertising continued to develop on a prodigious scale in nineteenth-century America,” with presses pouring forth “a sea of handbills, posters, flyers, free magazines, trade cards” and more to promote products.
Native food associations, too, contributed to companies promoting a range of products using Indian names, titles, and images. “Advertising objectifies,” author Deborah Doxtator notes. “It transforms the image of historical figures such as Tecumseh … and Pontiac into trivial objects that can be possessed, used up and thrown away.” The same is true of commercialization that exploits titles (Big Chief Meat Snacks) and “loanwords” (Squaw Peas). Furthermore, when companies appropriate tribal names like Sioux (Sioux Bee Honey/Sue Bee Honey), they suggest an association with specific Indian nations.
Once advertisers in America, Japan, and other countries began using images of Native people after the 1850s, historian Daniel Francis writes: “Suddenly images of the Indian were appearing on the pages of mass-circulation magazines, on billboards, on the shelves at the local supermarket.” These images relegate people to a timeless past. “Any appropriation of American Indian images or cultural imagery to sell a product,” scholar Victoria E. Sanchez asserts, “amounts to perpetuation of institutionalized racism and is a contributing factor to insensitive stereotypes, prejudice, discrimination, and stigmatization.”
While minstrel shows have long been criticized as racist, American children are still socialized into playing Indian. Columbus Day celebrations, Halloween costumes and Thanksgiving reenactments stereotype Indigenous Peoples as one big distorted culture. We are relegated to racist stereotypes and cultural caricatures.
Let’s Play Indian, a children’s book by Madye Lee Chastain, is one of countless examples of playing Indian, a practice engaged in by outsiders who appropriate, or take on, American Indian identities and cultural ways. Chastain’s main character transforms herself into “a really truly dressed-up painted Indian,” who runs, whoops, and waves her tomahawk. As columnist Ruth Hopkins notes, “Some folks contend that since it’s acceptable to dress up as a cowboy, they should get a pass for dressing up as an ‘Indian.’ Wrong.” While children frequently dress up to play a cowboy, nurse, or fire fighter, these are occupations. Being American Indian is not a profession or vocation. It is a human identity, tribally specific and integral to Native personhood and nationhood.
Let’s Play Indian is not an isolated example of playing Indian. Actually, the practice has a long history. As scholar Rayna Green writes: “Almost from their very arrival in the Americas, Europeans found it useful, perhaps essential, to ‘play Indian’ in America, to demand that tribal peoples ‘play Indian,’ and to export the performances back to Europe, where they thrive to date.” The Boston Tea Party, which helped spark the American Revolution in 1773, is an early example. Sounding war whoops and masquerading as Mohawks, colonial men boarded ships in Boston Harbor and threw chests of tea overboard to protest British tea taxes. White males such as these were the first of many participants to engage in Indian play. Woodcraft Indians, Camp Fire Girls, Boy Scouts, Wild West and Indian medicine shows, hobbyists, and sports teams are among numerous examples. Playing Indian cuts across race, class, gender, age, and group affiliations. Some people engage in such “play” temporarily, as in Halloween costuming, but others appropriate Indian names and identities on an ongoing basis.
Playing Indian also extends to depictions of animals dressed as Indians in a variety of products, including books and toys. These portrayals are dehumanizing, suggesting that Native people are creatures of fantasy and not fully human.
Playing Indian with one-size-fits-all images of American Indians is contrary to actual Native peoples, past or present. Such practices prevent other people from learning about, or understanding, Native America. Such “play” masks low per-capita incomes, high unemployment, poor health, and other realities. As Philip J. Deloria, author of Playing Indian, points out: “…the ways in which white Americans have used Indianness in creative self-shaping have continued to be pried apart from questions about inequality, the uneven workings of power, and the social settings in which Indians and non-Indians might actually meet.”
Native American mascots have very little to do with Native Americans. They do not, nay, cannot, represent indigenous men and women. Much like blackface, such inventions and imaginings, meant to represent a racial other, tell us much more about Euro-Americans….They reflect and reinforce the fundamental features of racial and gendered privilege in a settler society, particularly a sense of entitlement to take and remake without consent and to do so without the burden of history, the challenges of knowing, or the risk of penalty.
A popular version of playing Indian arose in the early part of the twentieth century in organized sports, with team names such as Braves, Chiefs, Indians, Savages, Redskins, and Warriors. These monikers, evoking masculine ideals of bravery and aggression, became widespread at a range of institutions, including K-12 schools, colleges and universities, and amateur and professional athletic leagues and franchises.
Teams with “Indian” names come with a variety of practices, among them the adoption of “red-face” mascots costumed as Plains Indians, ersatz Indian dances and rituals at halftime, face paint and feathered headdresses, and the antics of war whooping, tomahawk chopping fans. Band members, drill teams and cheerleaders (including “Indian princesses,” “Redskinettes,” and the like) contribute to the overall theme. Such representations have become normalized, a familiar part of everyday America. “These images are so powerful,” activist Charlene Teters has testified, “that many non-native people do not see us as modern people with a valued history, living culture, language or a future.” Challenging such images requires seeing them for what they are (and are not). Author Dave Zirin, for instance, notes: “I started looking into [the Redskins] more after a young girl of Native American ancestry saw the logo on a media folder in my bag and asked me fearfully why ‘the man’s head had been chopped off.’” He concluded: “…once you see it, you can’t unsee it.”
Team logos, rife with “chopped off” Indian heads, are emblazoned on fields and arenas, programs and memorabilia, and across a range of venues. Audiences, fans or not, are bombarded with radio, television, newspaper, and electronic media coverage. Teams, especially franchises worth billions of dollars, market an astonishing array of commercial products, such as pennants, caps, mugs, plates, notebooks, mascot figures, bobble heads, and even toilet paper. Starting with infant apparel and other merchandise, marketing is aimed at all age groups, the better to groom fans and keep revenue flowing into team coffers.
Demeaning “Indian” language, too, reinforces imagery, as in:
Hail to the Redskins.
Braves on the warpath.
Fight for old D.C.
Scalp ‘um, swamp ‘um, we will
Take ‘um big score.
Although some teams have denied or sanitized racist versions of fight songs and other representations, the historical record reveals the truth. Through efforts by opponents of Indian mascots, a number of institutions, especially at the K-12 and college levels, have changed a range of practices, including team names. Professional teams such as the Redskins and the Cleveland Indians have been the most resistant to change.
But I am hurt and often outraged by how my children experience their Indianness in mainstream America.
The lives of children are saturated with American Indian stereotypes: “I for Indian” in alphabet books, “Ten Little Indians” song and dance, plastic “Indian villages,” coffee-can “tom-toms,” cardboard totem poles, “Indian” Barbie dolls, Pocahontas costumes, and more. As educator Jim E. Warne has testified, “Today’s average U.S. education about Indians is reduced to cutting out construction paper feathers, coloring book tepees and tomahawks, and Pilgrim hats for Thanksgiving.”
Consistent with such instruction, “I for Indian” too often appears in alphabet blocks, cards, and books. Juxtaposed with objects (A for apple, B for ball), it is also accompanied by a dancing, whooping, war painted “Indian” and other stereotypical imagery. Besides objectifying Native peoples, “I for Indian” is known to manifest “the anachronistic placement of past-tensed ‘Indians’ with modern items or settings.” Such anachronisms contribute to misconceptions about Native Americans, past or present.
Native people are also treated as objects in counting songs, books, and toys. “Ten Little Indians” is the best known example by far, appearing in nursery school curricula, toys, recordings, games, YouTube videos, and theater productions. Written in 1868 as “Ten Little Injuns” by songwriter Septimus Winner, this hit “comic song and chorus” features “injuns” dying by different means “until there were none.”  Adults continue to teach the song, seemingly oblivious to its violent, racist history, counting down Indians to annihilation.
Clinical psychologists report that constant encounters with false images result in Native children internalizing stereotypes that interfere with their developing positive self-images and racial identities. Likewise, researchers have studied the development of racial awareness, attitudes, and feelings in young children. “The first six years of life are important for the development of all social attitudes,” psychologist Gordon Allport has written. “A bigoted personality may be well under way by the age of six….” For writer Mary Gloyne Payne Byler, “far from being harmless, stereotypes are one of the most common manifestations of prejudice and one of the most persistent.”
Whatever the source, inaccurate images and information about Native people are particularly harmful during children’s formative years. In a study by Children NOW, a child advocacy organization examining children’s perceptions of race and class in the media, Native youngsters said they see themselves as “poor,” “drunk,” “living on reservations,” and “an invisible race.” The Children NOW study concludes that “Native American youth are concerned about portrayals of their race in the media.” So are countless historians and other educators who object to the maltreatment of Native peoples and cultures. Scholar Michael Dorris puts it bluntly: “To deprive our children (who grow up to become no less deprived adults) access to the wealth and sophistication of traditional Native American societies is indefensible . . . this treasure trove of experience and intelligence, perfected over tens of thousands of years residence on this continent, is allowed to be eclipsed by dumb, racist drivel.”
1 C. Richard King, redskins: Insult and Brand (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2016), 100.
2 Cécile R. Ganteaume, “Americans: Major New Exhibition Asks, Why Do Images of American Indians Permeate American Life?” National Museum of the American Indian magazine, vol. 18, no. 3 (Fall 2017): 20-27.
3 Kevin Gover, “Five Myths about American Indians,” The Washington Post, November 22, 2017. https://www.washingtonpost.com/outlook/five-myths/five-myths-about-american-indians/2017/11/21/41081cb6-ce4f-11e7-a1a3-0d1e45a6de3d_story.html?utm_term=.c73ca14f9617 (accessed January 13, 2018).
4 Gover, “Five Myths about American Indians.”
5 Gover, “Five Myths about American Indians.”
6 National Congress of American Indians, “Tribal Nations and the United States: An Introduction,” January 15, 2015. http://www.ncai.org/about-tribes (accessed January 13, 2018).
7 Elias Johnson, A Native Tuscarora Chief. Legends, Traditions and Laws of the Iroquois, or Six Nations, and History of the Tuscarora Indians. Lockport, NY: Union Publishing Co., 1881. [reprints available]
8André B. Rosay, “Violence Against American Indian and Alaska Native Women and Men,” U.S. Department of Justice, Office of Justice Programs National Institute of Justice, May 2016. https://www.ncjrs.gov/pdffiles1/nij/249736.pdf (accessed January 15, 2018).
9 Melanie Peterson-Hickey, “American Indians, Mental Health, and the Influence of History,” American Psychiatric Association blog post, November 6, 2015. https://www.psychiatry.org/news-room/apa-blogs/apa-blog/2015/11/american-indians-mental-health-and-the-influence-of-history (accessed January 15, 2018).
10 Emma LaRocque, “Here Are Our Voices—Who Will Hear?” Preface to Writing the Circle: Native Women of Western Canada, compiled and edited by Jeanne Perreault and Sylvia Vance (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1993), xv.
11 Elizabeth Seay, Searching for Lost City: On the Trail of America’s Native Languages (Guilford, CT: The Lyons Press, 2003), ix.
12J.D.C. Atkins, “The English Language in Indian Schools,” in Americanizing the American Indians: Writings by the “Friends of the Indian” 1880-1900, ed. Francis Paul Prucha (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1978): 197-206.
13 Suzan Shown Harjo, “Watch Your Language!” Indian Country Today, July 4, 2001. https://indiancountrymedianetwork.com/news/watch-your-language/ (accessed October 26, 2017).
14Mary Gloyne Byler, “Taking Another Look,” in Through Indian Eyes: The Native Experience in Books for Children, eds. Beverly Slapin and Doris Seale (Philadelphia, PA: New Society Publishers, 1992): 81-87.
15 Jeffrey Steele, “Reduced to Images: American Indians in Nineteenth Century Advertising,” in Dressing in Feathers: The Construction of the Indian in American Popular Culture, ed. S. Elizabeth Bird (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1996): 45-64.
16 Ralph Sessions, The Shipcarvers’ Art: Figureheads and Cigar-Store Indians in Nineteenth-Century America (Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2005), 86.
17 Sessions, The Shipcarvers’ Art, 86.
18 “Cigar-Store Indian,” in Encyclopedia of North American Indians, ed. Frederick Hoxie (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1986), 123.
19Brooks McNamara, Step Right Up: An Illustrated History of the American Medicine Show (Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Co., 1976), 13, 16.
20Deborah Doxtator, Fluffs and Feathers: An Exhibit on the Symbols of Indianness: A Resource Guide (Brantford, Ontario: Woodland Cultural Centre, revised edition, 1992), 46.
21Daniel Francis, The Imaginary Indian: The Image of the Indian in Canadian Culture (Vancouver, B.C.: Arsenal Pulp Press, 1993), 175.
22Victoria E. Sanchez, “Buying into Racism: American Indian Product Icons in the American Marketplace,” in American Indians and the Mass Media, eds. Meta G. Carstarphen and John P. Sanchez (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2012): 153-168.
23Dwanna L. Robertson, “Playing ‘Indian’ and Color-Blind Racism,” Indian Country Today, September 20, 2013. https://indiancountrymedianetwork.com/news/opinions/playing-indian-and-color-blind-racism/ (accessed October 30, 2017).
24Madye Lee Chastain, Let’s Play Indian (New York: Wonder Books, 1950).
25Ruth Hopkins, “My Native Identity Isn’t Your Plaything. Stop with the Mascots and ‘Pocahotties,’” The Guardian, June 19, 2015. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/jun/19/my-native-identity-isnt-your-plaything-mascots-pocahotties (accessed October 2, 2017).
26Rayna Green, “The Tribe Called Wannabee: Playing Indian in America and Europe.” Folklore, vol. 99, no. 1 (1988): 30-55.
27Philip J. Deloria, Playing Indian (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1998), 189-190.
28C. Richard King, redskins: Insult and Brand, 31-32.
29Charlene Teters, in “Stolen Identities: The Impact of Racist Stereotypes on Indigenous People,” Hearing before the Committee on Indian Affairs, United States Senate, 112th Congress, May 5, 2011. https://www.gpo.gov/fdsys/pkg/CHRG-112shrg66994/pdf/CHRG-112shrg66994.pdf (accessed October 29, 2017).
30Dave Zirin, “You Can’t Unsee It: Washington Football Name and Quiet Acts of Resistance,” The Nation, September 5, 2014. https://www.thenation.com/article/you-cant-unsee-it-redskins-and-quiet-acts-resistance/ (accessed October 6, 2017).
31Connie Griffith, My Life with the Redskins (New York: A.S. Barnes & Co., 1947), 39.
32Nancy Marie Mithlo, “Our Indian Princess”: Subverting the Stereotype (Santa Fe, NM: School for Advanced Research, 2009), viii.
33Jim E. Warne, in “Stolen Identities: The Impact of Racist Stereotypes on Indigenous People.” https://www.gpo.gov/fdsys/pkg/CHRG-112shrg66994/pdf/CHRG-112shrg66994.pdf (accessed October 29, 2017).
34Robert B. Moore and Arlene Hirschfelder, “Feathers, Tomahawks and Tipis: A Study of Stereotyped ‘Indian’ Imagery in Children’s Picture Books,” in American Indian Stereotypes in the World of Children: A Reader and Bibliography, 2nd ed., eds. Arlene Hirschfelder, Paulette Fairbanks Molin, and Yvonne Wakim (Lanham, MD: The Scarecrow Press, 1999): 55-80.
35Julianne Jennings, “The History of ‘Ten Little Indians,’” Indian Country Today, October 11, 2012. https://indiancountrymedianetwork.com/culture/social-issues/the-history-of-ten-little-indians/ (accessed January 15, 2018).
36Gordon Allport, The Nature of Prejudice (Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley Publishing Co., 1954), 297. [Reprint edition: New York: Basic Books, 1979]
37Mary Gloyne Payne, “Editorial: Mary Gloyne Payne,” Indian Affairs, no. 62 (December 1965), 5.
38Children NOW. A Different World: Native American Children’s Perceptions of Race and Class in the Media. (Oakland, CA: Children NOW, 1999), https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/ED436234.pdf (accessed January 15, 2018).
40Michael A. Dorris, “Foreword to the First Edition,” in American Indian Stereotypes in the World of Children: A Reader and Bibliography, 2nd ed., vii-viii.