By Bailey Britton

^{“Trail Of Tears” by Kevin is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0}

THIS ARTICLE WAS PUBLISHED IN THE SPRING 2023 EDITION OF LIVE IDEAS. VIEW IT HERE.

The U.S. education system appears to be set up to not teach students about the dark side of colonialism. It tells the story of the colonizers, not the colonized. We see the effects of settler colonialism in our everyday lives, but we don’t even realize it because
from a young age, we are educated to ignore it. Through this paper, I discuss my experiences as a student and a researcher and apply the theory of settler colonialism to monuments in the state of Kansas that reinforce settler colonial ideals.

When I took the class ENGL420 “Indigneous Films” with Dr. Lisa Tatonetti, I thought I was enrolling in an easy class. I expected to watch movies and enjoy them, not to have my perspective about colonialism and the education system changed. Growing up in western Kansas, my education on Indigenous people usually revolved around Buffalo Bill and his Wild West show. I vaguely remember a fifth-grade project where each student was assigned an Indigenous group to report on. I had watched many westerns as a kid with my grandpa, which also informed my education on Indigenous people. It wasn’t until I took the Indigneous Films class that I realized the education system had set me up to not learn about Indigenous people. Dr. Tatonetti taught us on the first day of that class that most educational standards in the United States don’t teach about Indigenous people in a post-1900 context.1 The more I learned about settler colonialism, the more I realized that the education system is not set up to teach about the colonization of the United States and the subsequent murder, removal, and erasure of Indigenous people. A lot of my education on the subject occurred outside of the classroom through my own determination and assistance from faculty and staff at K-State. That isn’t how it should be. However, settler colonialism is why the education system is set up this way.

Scholar Lorenzo Veracini says settler colonialism is a type of colonialism that attempts to erase itself. Veracini says erasure is how settler colonialism “covers its tracks and operates towards its self-supersession.” Self-supersession—the erasure of the colonial act, or invasion—results in a structure to replace the Indigenous culture with settler culture. For example, the colonists dominate the Indigenous group, and then force them to assimilate, leave the occupied area, or die. The colonists then replace their colonial government or way of living—which is the complete control of the Indigenous population—with a different system of their creation that is no longer colonial. The new system would be deemed fair and equal to all people by the colonists, and there would be no separation of colonized and colonizer. However, it is not fair and equal to all.

The settlers force the Indigenous people to comply, and the settlers work towards the end goal, where there is no need for a colonial government exerting power over the Indigenous groups.3 This is why settler colonialism is not usually successful—the Indigenous people don’t see the end point of colonization. There is always colonization of their people and culture. The settler colonialists continue to push out the Indigenous people who, as long as they are still resisting, prove that the colonial event of domination, murder, and forced removal took place. After the Indigenous people are “gone”—either from murder, removal, or assimilation—the story of what occurred can be changed to fit the settler’s needs for domination. However, there are still Indigenous people in the United States and around the world who resist and tell the history of colonization of their people. Settler colonialism continues to this day in the United States through white-washed histories, appropriation of Indigenous nation names in the names of states like Kansas, and resistance to tribal sovereignty. In Kansas (and elsewhere), the appropriation of names is also used in sports teams’ names, such as the Kansas City Chiefs or the Manhattan High School Indians, and monuments like Johnny Kaw, Blue Earth Plaza, and “Peace Offering on the Blue” in Manhattan, Kansas.

Over the summers of 2021 and 2022, I researched settler colonialism in Kansas monuments with assistance from Dr. Lisa Tatonetti, Dr. Abby Knoblauch, and the McNair Scholars Program. I was inspired to conduct this research because I was angry that I hadn’t learned about the Indigenous history of Kansas before, specifically about the Kanza people, who the state of Kansas are named after. I also wanted to bring that history to light for other people. Research was a way for me to learn more about the world I grew up in, and also use my privilege as a student at K-State to show others what I’ve learned.

The Kanza people lived in what is now Kansas beginning in the 1500s. According to “A Timeline History,” their historic lands include what is now northern Missouri and Kansas, and southern Nebraska, and consisted of approximately 20 million acres. Traditionally, the Kanza lived semi-nomadically, following the bison for hunting. However, when white settlers arrived in the area, their way of life changed. The U.S. Government forced them onto reservations, resulting in drastic lifestyle changes for the Kanza. The U.S. government initially restricted the Kanza to a 2-million-acre reservation west of Topeka in 1825. Then, in 1847, the government moved the Kanza to a 256,000-acre reservation near present-day Council Grove. In 1849, the government once again reduced the Kanza reservation, leaving them with only 80,620 acres of their original 20 million.

White settlers and the U.S. government agents treated the Kanza terribly, often tricking the Kanza into paying for things they could not afford, resulting in debts they would attempt to pay off with their annuity money, buffalo hides, and ponies, to no avail. In addition to continually reducing the size of the reservations, settlers often homestead on the Kanza 1847-1859 reservation lands near present-day Council Grove. Finally, in 1873, the U.S. government forcibly removed the Kanza to “Indian Territory” in Oklahoma. Despite the Kaw name being used for names of places around Kansas, the Kaw Nation’s historic claim to the land is not acknowledged.

My first research project, titled “Media Discourse about In ́zhúje ́waxóbe: Rhetorical Sovereignty Subverts Settler Colonialism,” researched rhetoric around the Kaw Nation sacred item In ́zhúje ́waxóbe, which currently stands in Lawrence, Kansas, and is a monument to the “pioneers of Kansas.” The Kaw Nation is now headquartered in Kaw City, Oklahoma. After the U.S. government removed the Kanza people to Oklahoma in 1873, they did not have access to In ́zhúje ́waxóbe. In 1929, the city of Lawrence stole In ́zhúje ́waxóbe.

The discourse in news articles from 1929 to the early 2000s was distinctly colonial, and often dismissed the city’s culpability in the theft of In ́zhúje ́waxóbe. Early news reports did not mention that the Kaw Nation claimed In ́zhúje ́waxóbe even though it would have been common knowledge at the time, according to Ron Parks in his book The Darkest Period: The Kanza Indians and Their Last Homeland. Early news reports from 1929 said that the city of Lawrence had claim to the rock because the rock, they said, was a pioneer like them. Calling the rock a “pioneer” removes the Indigenous context from In ́zhúje ́waxóbe. The plaque on the rock now dedicates it to the “pioneers of Kansas,” implying the pioneers and settlers of Lawrence were the first people in the area. However, the Kaw Nation and many other Indigenous people lived in the area for centuries—the “pioneers” mentioned may have been the first white people. However, it was only after nearly 100 years of discourse surrounding the monument that the Kaw Nation requested the return of In ́zhúje ́waxóbe. After much debate, in 2021, the city of Lawrence formally adopted a resolution to return In ́zhúje ́waxóbe to the Kaw Nation. Now, news articles published in the Lawrence Journal World predominantly focus on the Indigenous history of In ́zhúje ́waxóbe and center Indigenous voices.

Conducting this research gave me more insight into how settler colonialism informs the media and, by extension, people’s perspective on the world around them. Seeing settler colonialism in action is very different from learning about it in the classroom. However, it’s still important to learn about settler colonialism and the effects of colonization.

Settler colonialism seeps into our everyday life, whether we notice it or not. Much of it is something we are taught to do without even knowing why or how. Colonization started as an intentional activity—and still can be intentional—but most everyday people are not aware of it. The effects of colonization are in our everyday culture. Our culture glorifies the settlement of “the West” and Manifest Destiny, which is reflected in our education system and also in the media we consume. Western movies and books focus on the white cowboy figure and Indigenous people are often side characters that are steeped in stereotypes. Stereotypes are perpetuated through the culture, and if people aren’t properly educated on those stereotypes, they will believe them and take them as fact.

Knowing about settler colonialism and Indigenous misrepresentation helped me create my research question while walking my dog one morning—why is Johnny Kaw called Johnny Kaw? The project, “Settler Colonialism and Indigenous (Mis)Representation in Manhattan Monuments,” focused on the stereotypes and representation of the Kaw Nation in the sites of public memory Johnny Kaw, Blue Earth Plaza, and “Peace Offering on the Blue.” I focused on how public memory practices shaped these representations. Public memory is a way for a group of people to remember history and cultural values, but in doing so, they also choose how they remember historical events and construct what the narratives around the events are. Through these three sites of memory, we observe different levels of interaction between the city of Manhattan and the Kaw Nation. Starting with the statue of Johnny Kaw, there is no interaction between the cultures, but that changes with Blue Earth Plaza and “Peace Offering on the Blue.”

Johnny Kaw is a fictional white pioneer created by former K-State professor George Filinger. Filinger created the character of Johnny to celebrate Manhattan’s centennial celebration in 1955 and the statue was built in 1966. Now, Johnny stands in City Park, holding a scythe. He is a tall, blond, white man. However, he draws his name “Kaw” from the Kaw Nation and places in Kansas named after the Kaw Nation. In placing a statue of a blond, white settler named Johnny Kaw on historically Kaw land, the ownership of the name “Kaw” then mistakenly reflects an inherently white history through appearance, name, and location. The history is recast by taking the Indigenous name and giving it to a white settler figure, and then claiming he created Kansas landmarks and Kanza sacred sites, which are then allegedly named after him. This adds another layer of distance to the already murky history people are taught about Indigenous people. Monuments themselves—in location, characteristics, and ownership—help form the narratives and cultural values the dominant culture of white Manhattan residents choose to remember. The non-Indigenous people of Manhattan decided Johnny Kaw reflected the cultural values of Manhattan in the 50s and 60s.

Blue Earth Plaza and “Peace Offering on the Blue,” however, reflect changes in public memory practices in Manhattan. Blue Earth Plaza, a small park with a shopping center in Manhattan, was named after the Blue Earth Village the Kanza people lived in during the late 1700s and the early 1800s. The Manhattan City Commission approved the name for the Plaza in 2011. The city commission’s goal was “to spark awareness among the local community. Manhattan City Commissioners hope the name of this one-acre park will educate residents about Native American history in Kansas and honor the Kansa Indian tribe.” However, the plaza itself has no signs or plaques that explain the history behind the name—it’s up to the individual to research for themselves what the name means. In addition, the city commission did not take into consideration that the government forcibly removed the Kanza from their homelands—they only mentioned that they once lived in the area. The intentions behind the name may have been good, but the execution was poor.

The same goes for “Peace Offering on the Blue.” Tom Ford, a white artist from Wyoming, created the statue. While it might seem at first that the statue “Peace Offering on the Blue” is another Manhattan public site meant to honor the Kansa people, Ford admits that he neither consulted Kaw Nation members nor did he undertake any research for the statue; instead, he “just picked up his tools and started carving out what his imagination thought it should look like.” The motivation for the statue is similar to the intent behind Blue Earth Plaza—the city commission wanted to recognize that the Kaw lived on that land. However, here again, they did not want to remember the forced removal from the area.

Providing interactions between groups with opposing voices is what monuments and sites of memory should do, Matthew Houdeck and Kendall Phillips explain. They write that sometimes there can be tension between groups about official historic accounts and what monuments promote: Given the function of such places of memory to construct a vision of national identity for their viewers, these same sites invite dissident voices to challenge the official versions of history to create space so that their own voices may be heard. … In such cases, the locations of museums, monuments, or memorials within a specific space and time, and the embeddedness within a particular geographical and economic landscape, open them to vernacular contestation.

Each monument discussed in this paper is a product of its own time period. The time periods, paired with the location on historically Kaw land, reflect the public memory practices of the dominant culture during that time. In the case of Johnny Kaw, the collective dominant memory at the time ignored Indigenous people and the Kaw did not have input into the creation of a white settler figure using their name. Newer monuments attempt to bring the Kaw Nation back into the narrative, with the city asking for input in the process. However, even with the input from the Kaw Nation, the sites of memory intentions fall flat.

In Manhattan, there are several other efforts to recognize Indigenous history in the area, as well as change and acknowledge current hurtful portrayals. Some efforts have failed, such as pushes to change the Manhattan High School mascot, which is currently the Indians. The largely white MHS community continues to vote against changing the mascot. Other efforts are more successful, such as The Chapman Center for Rural Studies’ Kansas land treaties project. The project is aimed at the public, and focuses on the Kanza perspective of the 1825, 1846, and 1859 treaties that allowed the U.S. government to remove the Kanza from their homelands.

To me, education is one of the most important things a person can have. Without education, I wouldn’t know about settler colonialism, which is probably what society wants. Once you’re educated, you start to see the effects of colonization all around you. For example, K-State is a land-grant university, and takes pride in that. Where did that land come from though? Before it was K-State land, the Kanza people—and others—lived and thrived in this area. When the U.S. Government forcibly removed the Kanza people to Indian Territory in present-day Oklahoma, the government stole the land. They covered this up with treaties that harmed the Indigenous people, claiming to make them civilized. However, the treaties did not properly compensate them and the U.S. Government often lied and cheated the Indigenous people. Stolen land, treaties, and murders of Indigenous people isn’t covered in the modern United States education system.

Whenever I get a chance in my classes, I try to talk about settler colonialism or a similar topic. This semester, I took the class ENGL705 Theories of Cultural Studies. The professor, Greg Eiselein, had every student teach a class period on an article of their choice from our textbook. I chose to teach “Imperialist Nostalgia” by Renato Resaldo. I had read this article for my research over the summer, but the teaching assignment gave me the opportunity to dig into it deeper and try to teach others why it is important to learn about imperialism and its effects.

Imperialist nostalgia is a type of nostalgia that colonizers or imperialists may feel after they have completely altered or destroyed a way of life. Resaldo writes that nostalgia is a way for those in power to feel better about what they destroyed, which is contradictory, as “a mood of nostalgia makes racial domination appear innocent and pure.” A simple way to think of it is like this: “A person kills somebody, and then mourns their victim.” The article was written and published in 1989. We discussed how we still see imperialist nostalgia in our culture today. The class discussion was engaging—all but one student actively participated in the discussion.

Imperialist nostalgia and colonization are something everyone sees in their life. That being said, these are students who have learned about colonization and settler colonialism and imperialist nostalgia—these concepts wouldn’t be obvious to anyone who hadn’t heard of these subjects before.

Growing up, I wasn’t taught about Indigenous people, the way the government treated them, or how they are living now. I was, however, taught that the state of Kansas was named after the Kanza people. I was taught—in vague details that may be inaccurate—that Native Americans lived in teepees. I was taught that they hunted buffalo and grew corn. I was taught that the government tried to help the Native Americans and “civilize” them. I was taught that the United States wasn’t to blame for their death. I wasn’t taught that the government forced Indigenous children into boarding schools, ripping them away from their parents. I wasn’t taught how reservations were formed. I wasn’t taught that Indigenous people still live today and have sovereign governments. According to IllumiNatives, a non-profit Native leadership organization dedicated to research, “A study of schools in 2011–2012 found that nearly 87 percent of state history standards failed to cover Native American history in a post-1900 context and that 27 states did not specifically name any individual Native Americans in their standards at all.” Beyond K-12 and undergraduate education, IllumiNatives reports, “None of the federal judges interviewed had taken an Indian law course in law school; they reported that either their school didn’t offer one or they did not recall seeing a course offered.” The lack of education isn’t something that was only experienced by me or students in Kansas—it’s a nation-wide issue.

Works Cited

“A Timeline History of the Kaw Nation,” The Kaw Nation, https://www.kawnation.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Timeline.pdf.

Brisendine, Corene. “IN PLACE – Kansas Upbringing Inspired Artist Who Sculpted Kaw Statue.” The Manhattan Mercury, 20 Dec. 2013.

Dome, AJ. “Incoming USD 383 Board Prefers Keeping Manhattan High Indian Mascot, But Talks Continue,” The Manhattan Mercury, 18 Nov. 2021, https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ozi7TNEhDNxQuSK8EUr3VmQz3iISytCts397kUT8s1E/edit

Houdek, Matthew, and Kendall R. Phillips. “Public Memory.” Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Communication, by Matthew Houdek and Kendall R. Phillips, Oxford University Press, 2017. DOI.org (Crossref), https://doi.org/10.1093/acrefore/9780190228613.013.181.

Hughes, Elizabeth. “City Commission Names Blue Earth Plaza in Honor of Kansa Nation.” The Collegian, 5 Apr. 2012, https://www.kstatecollegian.com/2012/04/05/city-commission-names-blue-earth-plaza-in-honor-of-kansa-nation/#:~:text=The%20Blue%20Earth%20Plaza%2C%20a,honor%20the%20Kansa%20Indian%20tribe.

“Kansas Without the Kanza: Understanding How the Kanza Homeland Became K-State.” Kansas Land Treaties, Chapman Center for Rural Studies, Kansas State University, https://www.k-state.edu/chapman/kansaslandtreaties/index.html.

Parks, Ronald. The Darkest Period: The Kanza Indians and Their Last Homeland. University of Oklahoma Press, 2014.

Reclaiming Native Truth: A Project to Dispel America’s Myths and Misconceptions. IllumiNatives, June 2018, https://illuminatives.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/FullFindingsReport-screen-spreads.pdf?x12844.

Rosaldo, Renato. “Imperialist Nostalgia.” Representations, no. 26, 1989, pp. 107–22. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/2928525. Accessed 24 Mar. 2023.

“Topeka Loses Big Boulder | Taken From Banks of Shunganunga Creek to Lawrence Park.” Topeka State Journal, 19 Sept. 1929.

Veracini, Lorenzo. “Introducing: Settler Colonial Studies.” Settler Colonial Studies, vol. 1, no. 1, Jan. 2011, pp. 1–12. DOI.org (Crossref), https://doi.org/10.1080/2201473X.2011.10648799.

Wolfe, Patrick. “Settler Colonialism and the Elimination of the Native.” Journal of Genocide Research, vol. 8, no. 4, Dec. 2006, pp. 387–409. DOI.org (Crossref), https://doi.org/10.1080/14623520601056240.

Zelizer, Barbie. “Reading the Past Against the Grain: The Shape of Memory Studies.” Critical Studies in Mass Communication, vol. 12, no. 2, Routledge, 1995, p. 214–239.