Finally! After two years my autobiography of my years in Western Colorado and working at the Menominee County Community School and the Menominee Indian Tribe has been published. I have copies in hand that can be found or ordered in bookstores throughout the world and all major online venues like amazon or Barnes and Noble. The book tells of growing up in Delta and Grand Junction Colorado, my love affair with Ethel Mortenson Davis (still happily married after closing in on 59 years), and so much history from the early 1970s that occurred because of the remarkable Menominee leaders of those days, resulting in the Indian controlled schools movement and the restoration of the Menominee Tribe and the start of the dominance of the self-determination era that changed the relationship of American Indian Tribes to state governments and the federal government. I was a participant in what happened, an observer.
Part of the reason I wrote this book is to rescue a part of American education and American Indian history that seems to be in danger of being lost. The Indian controlled schools movement was short-lived, but it was the spark that led to the creation of the tribal colleges and universities, which I have played a part in moving forward all these decades, and the contract schools operated by nearly every tribe in the country. The innovations from that movement are still echoing throughout American education.
The history of the Menominee Restoration Committee and its creation of the contemporary Menominee Indian Tribe of Wisconsin is every bit as important since this was one of the major foundations of the Self-Dermination era in tribal and government relationships that changed the arc of American history.
There are also stories about the Menominee Indian Warrior takeover of the Alexian Brother’s Novitiate outside of Gresham, Wisconsin that made international news, the rise of the Posse Comitatus in Shawano County (one of the first major right wing militia groups), and how a handicapped Colorado boy overcame his limitations and insecurities to find love, the strength of Indian values and Indian people, and a small place in the history of this country and its relationship to Native people.
Hopefully readers will find the history informative, the stories exciting, and understand that their lives have been impacted by what happened back then.
Although Beginnings: The Trail from a Boyhood in Western Colorado to the Indian Controlled Schools Movement and Restoration of the Menominee Indian Tribe chronicles the work of the Menominee Restoration Committee and the formation of formal tribal government after the Termination Era in American Indian history—helping usher in the era of Indian Self-Determination—it is a different kind of book.
For one thing, in the Western Colorado sections and in the chapters where I recount the magical love story between Ethel Mortenson Davis—the poet, artist, and my wondrous wife—I integrate narrative poetry into the larger story of being born in the small town of Delta, our move to Grand Junction, our marriage and early years together, and, finally, my success in earning a teaching degree in history and English at the University of Wisconsin–Oshkosh.
The other aspect of my story during these years was the struggle against physical handicaps caused by Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease, a hereditary disorder that affects much of my extended family. The theme of how physical handicaps can affect American children growing up in a culture that extols exceptionalism while often denigrating intellectual and physical disabilities is, I believe, both powerful and universal. I was fortunate that my particular affliction was one I learned, somewhat shakily, to overcome, partially because of the glory of falling in love with Ethel.
I am often asked whether I am American Indian. Then, after I answer, another question follows: How did a Western Colorado boy end up spending most of his life serving American Indians through the Indian-controlled schools movement?
That question reflects the difficulties American society has always had in embracing the patchwork quilt of its own population. In my story, I move from being a true-blue inheritor of the Western ethic of independence, self-reliance, and connection to the landscape to becoming a participant in the effort of Indian people to control their own futures within a country that has often preferred to deny the history of the Indian Wars and the treatment of Native peoples after the wars ended and the Treaty Period gave way to new federal policies.
This meant that I became a participant in some of the most important historical movements in modern American history: the birth and development of the Indian-controlled schools movement and the legal and political foundations of the Self-Determination Era, which recognizes tribes as independent nations possessing constitutional and treaty rights that have too often been violated by national, state, and local governments.
The Major Themes of Beginnings
There are many major themes woven throughout Beginnings. I hope readers discover many of them for themselves.
The Power of Beginnings
How childhood experiences shape a lifetime of values, decisions, and leadership.
The Formation of Character
Lessons learned through family, work, hardship, and responsibility in rural western Colorado.
Leadership Through Service
Leadership emerging from commitment to a cause rather than the pursuit of authority or recognition.
Finding Purpose
The unexpected path from a small-town upbringing to involvement in national Native American issues.
Education as Self-Determination
Education as a means for communities to control their own future rather than simply transmit knowledge.
The Indian Self-Determination Movement
The historic transition from federal control toward tribal governance and local decision-making.
The Menominee Restoration
The political, legal, and human struggle to restore federal recognition to the Menominee Tribe.
Community Building
Creating institutions that outlast individuals, including schools, organizations, and partnerships.
Cross-Cultural Learning
The mutual education that occurs when people from different backgrounds work together with respect.
The Importance of Listening
Effective leadership beginning with understanding rather than directing.
Courage During Change
Individuals willing to challenge established systems in pursuit of justice.
Ordinary People Making History
How significant historical events are often shaped by people who never intended to become historical figures.
The Evolution of Tribal Education
The emergence of Indian-controlled schools and, eventually, tribal colleges as expressions of sovereignty.
Institution Building
The practical challenges of creating new educational and governmental institutions from the ground up.
Perseverance
Continuing despite political setbacks, financial uncertainty, and organizational obstacles.
Relationships and Mentorship
The influence of remarkable individuals whose guidance changed the course of my life.
The Intersection of Personal and National History
One person’s life unfolding alongside transformative events in federal Indian policy.
Hope and Renewal
Restoration not only of a tribe’s legal status but also of dignity, identity, and opportunity.
The Value of Place
The landscapes of western Colorado, Wisconsin, and Indian Country as active influences on identity and perspective.
History Through Personal Experience
Understanding major historical movements through the lived experiences of someone directly involved.
Beginnings ends before the years I spent helping establish and expand the tribal college movement—the work for which I am probably best known at the age of eighty. That story belongs to another volume.
For now, I hope readers find in Beginnings a story that contributes to a broader understanding of this country, its history, and what it ought to stand for.
Tribal College Press has just released an audiobook version of my book of narrative poetry called Meditation on Ceremonies of Beginnings.
According to a review by someone I have never met on amazon, Thomas Cannon, “Meditation on Ceremonies of Beginnings is both intensely local and powerfully global. The tribal college and world indigenous higher education movement described in these poems have their roots and growth in Wisconsin, home of poet Thomas Davis, as well as in many other places, including Minnesota, South Dakota, Hawaii, and New Zealand. The poems are set in many of these places, often at meetings of leaders in the movement. I enjoyed this collection of poems dealing with the early days of the Tribal College Movement. “The Tribal College Movement is an important part of history and has a big impact today. This history is interesting in itself, but Davis brings it to life by sharing in poems. In this way, he brings together biographical information about the people involved, the implications of the movement, and the culture this movement takes place in.” sd
As is true of all movements, time is the great erasure, and unless the people and events of a movement during its starting years are written about and captured in real time, much that should be available for both contemporary and future generations is lost. I hope that those who read or listen to this book will
I spent weeks recording the poems and text at home in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin, doing my best to provide Tribal College Press with as clean a recording as possible. Then the press went through an extensive editing process to clean up the technical challenges with my work so that the book could be published by Audible. My grandson Will helped me by making sure I got the right equipment to do the recording. He earned a degree from the University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh in music and sound engineering.
The tribal college movement is one of the most significant education movements of the late 20th and early 21st centuries. The difference it has made in tribal lives throughout the United States is profound and long-lasting, helping to create and maintain both an economic and artistic renaissance throughout Indian country.
I hope that those who listen or read this book will be entertained by the stories, enlightened by the wisdom of Native voices, and learn about the miracle of both the tribal college and universities movement in the United States and the world indigenous higher education movement worldwide. Imbedded in these movements, in my opinion, is part of the hope of a world that sometimes seems way too dark and foreboding.
The art on the cover was done by Ethel Mortenson Davis
I am, at this moment, completely stunned. I understand I was nominated by Dr. Elmer Guy, President of Navajo Technical University and Carrie Billie, the former Executive Director of the American Indian Higher Education Consortium. I cannot thank them and the selection committee at WINU enough.
Lowerpoint Road, State Hwy 371 Crownpoint, New Mexico, 87313 Email: tdavis@navajotech.edu
Dear Tom
Re: Recommendation to receive a 2025 WINU Honorary Doctorate – Education (EdD) for Indigenous Education
The World Indigenous Nations University (WINU) was launched in 2014 at Crownpoint, New Mexico, USA, heralding in a new era of Indigenous higher education. The formation of WINU represented the culmination of global consultations with a gathering of First Nations educators, scholars, knowledge holders and Elders over an extensive period to establish a more culturally inclusive and responsive higher education system for their people. An inspiring source of WINU’s formation has been the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) and the World Indigenous Nations Higher Education Consortium (WINHEC), which called for critical changes to take place in the engagement of First Nations peoples in higher education.
Every year nominations are called for the WINU Honorary Doctorate Awards. They recognize the meritorious work of Indigenous Educators, Scholars, Knowledge Holders/Elders who their peers and community acknowledge as an inspirational leader. It gives me immense pleasure to advise you that a successful nomination has been received by the WINU International Review Committee nominating you for a 2025 World Indigenous Nations University (WINU) Honorary Doctorate as an outstanding Educator and Knowledge Holder.
The nomination received from Dr Elmer J. Guy and Carrie L. Billy and supported by the Navajo Technical University, acknowledges and honors your contributions as a transformative leader and active participant in the Tribal College movement since the 1990s, in the United States and globally. Carrie’s biographical statement of your achievements provides details of your leadership, advice and expertise that has helped transform Navajo Technical University and several other tribal colleges and universities, through partnerships, research programs, initiatives and new academic programs. Globally, you are recognized as instrumental in the creation of the World Indigenous Nations Higher Education Consortium.
The conferral of the WINU Honorary Doctorate upon you is seen as honoring and profiling your exemplary dedication and contributions through your work at the local, national and global levels. Your nominees seek to celebrate and salute you for the many gains you have made through your meritorious and scholarly contributions, which have advanced Indigenous education through your transformational leadership, diligence and commitment.
The WINU Board of Governors and the International Review Committee have endorsed that the meritorious Award of WINU Honorary Doctorate – Education (EdD) for Indigenous Education, be conferred upon you at this year’s annual WINU Conferral Ceremony, which will be hosted by Te Wananga o Aotearoa, Mangere Campus, Auckland, Aotearoa, New Zealand. This ceremony is an integral part of the WINHEC AGM scheduled for 13-14 November 2025.
The conferral of the WINU Honorary Doctorate upon you pays homage to the pertinence of your work to the Articles of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and to the foundational goals and objectives of the World Indigenous Nations Higher Education Consortium (WINHEC) and the World Indigenous Nations University (WINU).
Congratulations on the success of your nomination for this most meritorious Honorary Award.
Accordingly, you are invited to attend this year’s Ceremony at the 2025 WINHEC/WINU Annual General Meeting being hosted by Te Wananga o Aotearoa, Mangere Campus, 15 Canning Crescent, Mangere, Auckland, Aotearoa, New Zealand, where you will be officially conferred with the WINU Honorary Doctorate – Education (EdD) for Indigenous Education.
Unfortunately, WINU cannot assist with travel, accommodation or the WINHEC registration fee. However, should you wish to attend the meetings the registration and accommodation details can be found on the WINHEC website www.winhec.org. Please contact Dr Berice Anning, the Deputy Vice Chancellor WINU via email: winuenquiries@gmail.com to advise if you will be attending the Conferral Ceremony in person.
We look forward to receiving your advice as to whether you wish to accept the 2025 WINU Honorary Doctorate – Education (EdD) for Indigenous Education, and if so, whether you can attend this year’s formal Conferral Ceremony in Aotearoa.
On closing, the WINU Executive again extends to you the sincerest congratulations on the success of your nomination for this most deserving and meritorious honorary award
Too many of the great American Indian leaders in education are passing. I keep mourning each one as they go beyond the blanket to where I cannot see. Thomas Davis
Hayes Lewis
I have been thinking about Hayes today, How Agent Orange and his time in Viet Nam got him in the end, But like all of us, The ending is not the story, Not the stone that has been shaped into a fetish That means more than what it represents.
He was gentle, softspoken, But the dreams he had! He wanted to somehow reach into the spirit Of every Zuni and American Indian child and young person And stir alive with what they really are, A blessing on the earth. A gentle rain after weeks of unrelenting sun That explodes the high desert into wildflowers, Sun flowers, bee balm, Indian paintbrush, The colors of life as bright as any rainbow.
As a Superintendent of Schools He worked hard to stir up accomplishments Inherent in spirits touched by the spirit Of the Zuni heritage and history. At the Institute of American Indian Arts He worked to allow the creative fires At the heart of who American tribal people are To create a renaissance So powerful it would wipe away The foolish prejudices and preconceptions Of those who still believe that Indian live in teepees And have failed to join the contemporary world. At A:shwi College he labored To bring a college into being, A tribal college that honored language, culture, and history By bringing it alive, Making it the heart of what learning should be.
But even this is only a little bit of what he was. He has been one of those people Who speak and people listen. One of those people whose courage Is not in their deeds alone, But in the presence of how they hold themselves As season passes season and days become a summation Of all that is good and perfect upon the good earth.
In the midst of all the insanity in this country right now, yesterday I was sent news about one of the great leaders of the tribal colleges and universities movement in the United States and the World Indigenous Nations Higher Education movement worldwide.
I am walking through the wilderness. Time has twisted on me. I keep wondering who I am as my hair grows white, my bones ache more fiercely.
Ron His Horse Is Thunder is gone? Gone where? To the top of a tall mountain where clouds of snow-dust blow into a sky so blue it’s not a dome but a song that lasts forever and ever?
I imagine him lean as he rides a golden stallion running with a herd of wild golden stallions, his face alive with the spirit of Sitting Bull, with the fire of the tribal colleges in his black hair as it streams backward in the wind, as the colleges bloom out of the prairie, in the deep woods, in the shadows of great mountains, in the high deserts, and beside the Pacific Ocean into history, the meaning of history.
I could tell you stories. How he became a tribal chairman and then came to an AIHEC board meeting where tribal college Presidents treated him like a rock star, cheering every time he took a breath.
How he walked out on a narrow runway in Albuquerque dressed only in a loin cloth, holding a spear as old as the stories told around campfires on cold nights. Dressed only in a loin cloth, his legs and abs shining.
How he and I argued for a different funding stream for the colleges as the eyes of Presidents glared and linked us into visions of a future where Native men and women dance and sing as the drum of the future thunders and wildflowers bloom every time a foot touches ground.
And now the news. The old leaders, the beautiful people, my friends, those who would sit in cheap motel rooms and fiercely debate for hours as they conjured alive a movement that is changing history, are fading, fading, fading.
The fire in their eyes, the power of their gestures, the song of their voices disappearing, disappearing, disappearing.
And who will remember where they have walked? Who will know the force of who they were?
They created a movement. They fashioned it out of dreams, out of old bar rooms and trailer houses and abandoned buildings that should have been condemned. They did! They did! All of them together!
And now, an email. An email! A technology that wasn’t invented yet when the tribal colleges first came to be. It says that Ron His Horse Is Thunder, a man so glorious they put his glory on national posters and posted them all over the country, is gone.
Nothing more than that. That’s what it says. How can that possibly have any meaning at all?
I feel the wilderness around me, time twisting, my spirit feeling how it felt whenever I heard Ron His Horse Is Thunder laughing.
First, secure a charismatic character, preferably a male who has lived a flawed life seething with perceived slights and resentments. Then have him attract two kinds of followers: those who believe society has left them unfairly behind and those who can imagine their support for such a leader can help them gain power, wealth, or prestige.
After the charismatic leader secures followers through outrageous statements and dramatic performative art, enflame resentments against elites and their status quo, laying claim to a mythological glorious past with glorious values that only a Great Leader can magically bring back to life— as Christ did with Lazarus. Claim divine intervention in the Great Leader’s life, proving beyond doubt that God is on the Great Leader’s side as he crusades against society’s carnage brought about by elites, even if they masquerade as common people, that have gained benefits they clearly don’t deserve.
Then, have the Anointed One win His election by making Him the only news worth covering by the press as he attacks the press and paints them as part of the hated elite. Let the Great Leader encourage his followers to attack those not absolutely on his and their side so that everyone begins to fear being the target of the Great Leader’s wrath. Attack the integrity of elections, claiming fraud where no fraud exists. Eliminate voters from voting rolls in places where the vote might be negative. And always, let the Great Leader be outrageous and bold and filled with the glory of who He is and who He will be.
Then mix in rich oligarchs willing to fund ugly campaigns against any opposition, creating division among different populations of people whenever possible, making good people afraid to step out in the line fire, fearing to have reputations and lives damaged by lies advertised against them. Enrich the supporting rich with government largesse beyond measure. as power flows into the Great Leader’s glory. Develop and implement policies that hurt the stranger, the poor, the old, the handicapped, anyone who his followers can see as lesser than themselves because of his actions.
Create a new Golden Age brought to fruition by the Great Leader’s genius as he thumps his chest and has his minions praise his glorious leadership over and over again.
Celebrate dictators around the world and attack democracies as leeches taking unfair advantage of a country that has benefited from their trade and become the rich democracy it has become. Get the public to recognize the glorious strength of strong men.
Accustom those who have always seen themselves as good people to cruelty as immigrant children and families are deported, starving children in famine areas die as aid that kept them alive is yanked away, and families with the need for special programs spend nights crying as they worry about whether they are going to lose benefits and lose all as they face increased disability, illness, or some other devastation.
Let the Great Leader mock those who fought in the War to End All Wars or the soldiers who protected the country or became prisoners of war because they were fools as he declares love for the military he attacks, weakening the honor a country has for its independent military structure. Then begin to erode the rights of the press and poets who write poems he doesn’t like or artists who create art that anybody who is Great can see is ugly. And always, create dramas that dominate the news as He mocks those who report on or oppose his antics, claiming He is the only one whose words count, that the Great Leader who saves the country can break no law or tell no lie.
And as you are doing all of this, use raw power to begin dismantling society’s norms and institutions, creating norms and institutions in Your image, claiming norms and institutions that created and maintained peace and prosperity for seventy years has led to carnage and failure.
And after institutions and norms have been damaged beyond repair, point out how terrible the previous leadership was to allow such failures and blame them for every problem the Great Leader creates. Surround the Great Leader with sycophants as everyone must acknowledge the gloriousness of the Great Leader’s Glory.
Metamorphosis is complete: Democracy is no longer needed. The Great, divine Leader is the country that serves him.
He was a big man in Arizona
And sincere.
We were in Mesa, Arizona during the winter at a meeting
Sponsored by the Kellogg Foundation,
Tribal college Presidents and administrators, students, Board members, and faculty.
The white man in the tailored black suit
Had shown up and was invited up front to speak.
The Foundation wanted the mainstream universities and tribal colleges to work together with a common purpose.
The Chancellor of the University was careful and polite to begin with,
But then, as if he couldn’t quite help himself, he said:
“You know, I really don’t know what you people want.”
He gestured toward the crowd of Indian eyes and faces.
“I mean, the University of Arizona has developed programs
And reached out to the Reservations
Since signing of the treaties.”
The crowd of tribal college presidents and the others there
Didn’t say anything, didn’t move, didn’t clap, but looked interested and polite.
He clearly didn’t understand what Indian people needed.
Note: This is a poem from the tribal college movement. The incident happened a long time ago.
Like Moses fleeing from the Pharaoh’s wrath
Before the miracle of waters parting,
The Preacher blazed a trail on freedom’s path
As fear possessed their endless fleeing.
What was that man or woman really seeing
That passed them while they tried to run and hide?
What accident of fate would send them running
When slavers found them tired and terrified?
The Preacher prayed away grim miles and tried
To make their spirits testify that dreams
Are greater than the fear that crucified
Their faith that they could get across the streams
And past the towns that blocked their way and threatened
To let the slavers pounce and leave them bludgeoned.
The Bridge that was a Wall
The bridge, inside the night, was like a wall,
Small, wooden, unassuming, houses dark
Beside a path that seemed to be a call
To all who needed passage to embark
Upon a journey to the river’s other side.
They hid in brush, mouths dry, dread strong enough
To make them sick, and, silently, wide-eyed,
Saw spectres armed with whips and iron cuffs
Stand shining where they’d have to cross the bridge
Without disturbing dogs or waking up
The people in the houses as the ridge
Beyond the river beckoned past the interrupt
That stood between their anxious dreams and where
Their breaths would feel God’s freedom in the air.
Note:
These two sonnets continue the long series that tells the fictional story of the people of a black community that actually lived on Washington Island in the 1850s before unexpectedly disappearing. Two sonnets from this series were posted earlier.
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