Tag Archives: leadership

Beginnings Is a Different Kind of Memoir


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.

1 Comment

Filed under Essays, Uncategorized

The News About Ron His Horse Is Thunder

By Thomas Davis

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.

Leave a comment

Filed under poems, Poetry, Thomas Davis