Abstract
Classical social theory has shaped how sociologists frame our understandings of social phenomena and influences how empirical questions are formed and investigated, yet it has recently received much critical scrutiny in light of its Eurocentric and Androcentric roots. Drawing on postcolonial and Tribal Critical Race Theory, this paper brings scholarly attention to a particular indigenous voice of significant sociocultural impact that may help sociology expand its knowledge base, contributing to the construction of an indigenous epistemology within sociology. John Trudell was a prominent figure for indigenous rights and served as the National Chairman for the American Indian Movement. I provide a conceptual history, with a partial biographical history, that examines Trudell’s roots in indigenous activism. I utilize a historical approach, examining the nature of his ideas, expression across multiple kinds of media, and provide a textual analysis of selected works.
Introduction
Boozhoo. Nimkee binoojihn n’dizhinikaas. Myengen n’doodem. Anishinaabe niindaw miinwaa Nehiyawin niindaw. Welcome. I am Cree and Ojibway, with my family’s roots in the wolf clan. It is customary within my Anishinaabe and Nehiyawin practices to introduce myself to give the reader a sense of where I am from and where my teachings are from. The importance of acknowledging these customs and roots is key to this paper; I will center these ways at the heart of this work and within my own approach to this topic. This paper, at its core, seeks to contribute to the building of an indigenous epistemology within sociology. Through engagement with Trudell’s work, I argue that it is critical for the future of the discipline to expand its consideration of theorists beyond that of the traditional canon, especially from traditionally marginalized populations, and recognize the intellectual history and contributions to social thought beyond Euro-American authors.
As a discipline, sociology has faced critique for being deeply rooted in Eurocentric thought (Magubane, 2021; Morris, 2022). Various attempts have been made to rethink traditional social theory through multiple courses of action: returning to the theory and critiquing arguments made with Eurocentric and androcentric views, challenging the racist and sexist rhetoric (Alatas and Vineeta, 2018), while others have criticized how those perspectives are continuing to be taught in lieu of traditional theory accredited to non-white, non-male theorists (Alatas, 2021; Rodríguez et al., 2010). This narrow window into traditional theory limits what knowledge is seen as social theory. Indigenous work and theory exists, yet finds itself lacking visibility and space within sociology. As noted within the Oxford Handbook of Indigenous Sociology, Indigenous issues often don’t fit within sociological frames of social inquiry (Walter et. al., 2023; 5). This neglect has led scholars to call for de-colonization of the field and reconceptualization of the canon (Magubane, 2021; Morris, 2022). As Dr. Thakur, Professor of Sociology at Calcutta, writes: ‘Indigeneity has come to be viewed as an epistemic intervention promising meaningful contribution to the production of knowledge apart from its decolonizing endeavor. It is seen as an “effective antidote to the embedded Eurocentricity of much that passes as social theory” (Thakur, 2015: 110). This paper seeks to encourage and contribute to the development of a space for indigenous epistemology in sociology, a component of a larger apparatus of indigenous knowledge and theory within sociology.
Indigenous epistemology is, in essence, indigenous ways of knowing. As expansive as indigeneity is, indigenous epistemologies are equally diverse, yet it is agreed that there are some common threads throughout indigenous societies and knowledge systems (Antoine et. al., 2018; Battiste, 1988; Cajete, 1994; Couture, 1989, 1991, 1996; Ermine, 1995; Hoffman, 2013). There have been avenues into weaving these threads into western literature. Foley (2003) presented Indigenous Standpoint Theory as one approach to integrate indigenous Australian philosophies as an alternative methodological framework. Van Meijl (2019) offered a recent reflection of indigenous epistemological debates in a Maori community, and provided succinct descriptions and history of the rich work Pacific indigenous communities have produced on the topic. Returning to the western hemisphere, Hoffman (2013) gave an excellent overview of the literature on indigenous epistemologies and offered advice on how indigenous knowledge should be respected in the academy. Grounded in lived understandings of several points, indigenous epistemology brings to the table: that the world exists in one reality composed of a weave of secular and sacred dimensions; that time is not linear; that individuals are physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual beings; that all actions must be guided by respect and reciprocity; and that aboriginal knowledge transmission is characterized by oral tradition, experiential learning, subjective experience and collective knowing (Hoffman, 2013: 200). The points Hoffman presented, as well as the element of spirit, are central to indigenous epistemologies and the ideas Trudell presents. Dr. Joe Couture, the first indigenous man in Canada to receive a PhD in psychology, has been quoted by Hoffman (2013) and Ermine (1995) on key insights regarding the spiritual component of indigenous epistemologies: ‘The mode of indigenous knowing is a non-dualistic process. . . it transcends the usual oppositions between rational knowledge and intuition, spiritual insight and physical behavior. It is inclusive of all reality’ (Couture, 1991: 51). All human beings have mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual aspects of the self. The spiritual component is one which is connected to everything. Although spirit is central to indigenous epistemologies it remains somewhat alien to sociology, and this lens makes Trudell’s contributions particularly unique.
The convergence of my own intellectual pathway and spiritual growth is an excellent example for illustrating indigenous epistemology in action, as my own cultural roots are interconnected throughout the resources presented in this paper. Amidst the many influences I had growing up, teachings from Couture (1996) were among the most resonant and ever-present. Western knowledge and institutions have traditionally been separate from everyday life, what Ermine expands on as ‘fragmentary self-world view’ (p. 103), whereas indigenous epistemology is grounded in our relations and understandings of interconnectivity throughout all aspects of life. The teachings and words that Trudell sang and spoke are among the influences that I carry with me, and provide avenues for critically engaging with social thought that are interconnected to indigenous struggles worldwide.
The absence of indigenous work(s) within sociology and social theory is marked and enduring. Tribal Critical Race Theory or TribCrit is a useful lens for understanding how this exclusion has impacted indigenous communities, and how systems of Eurocentricity have intentionally disregarded and diminished indigenous perspectives. This particular theoretical lens acknowledges the colonial nature of current institutions and their roots in white supremacy and imperialism. Educational institutions are not exempt, as the 6th tenet of TribCrit specifically calls attention to the discriminatory nature of governmental and educational policies towards assimilation (Brayboy, 2005). The necessity for an indigenous body of literature is made clear by TribCrit—the violent approaches to assimilation have intentionally dismissed and ignored indigenous thought, a legacy that continues to make educational institutions difficult to navigate for indigenous students. Studies examining educational persistence among American Indian graduate students have highlighted study subjects’ yearning to cultivate and maintain cultural identity, with students combining indigenous epistemologies with Western education to navigate higher education and maintain a level of self-determination and autonomy (Brayboy, 2005: 437; Bird, 2017: 61). The lack of indigenous perspectives has been noted within my own experience in sociology. Through introductory classes at my community college, classes that scratched deeper below the surface at my undergraduate, and even graduate level theory courses, there have been no indigenous scholars mentioned or discussed. Marx and Durkheim are commonplace names in these spaces, yet their contributions are soured by racist rhetoric regarding indigenous peoples.
What might an indigenous epistemology for sociology look like? Who might be included, and how would this alter the shape and operation of the discipline? To begin answering these questions within this special issue of Critical Sociology, this work seeks to take a closer look at the writer, musician, activist, and thinker John Trudell, who had enormous significance in the reconceptualization of power and activism. Trudell’s songs have offered substantial support to indigenous scholars, assisting us in navigating these institutions. As I presented this work in progress at ASA in 2023, 1 many of the indigenous scholars in attendance offered supporting words and shared stories of Trudell’s influence on their work. This work provides an opportunity for sociology to catch up and hear this particular indigenous voice whose words resonate throughout the generations, and aid in constructing a body of theoretical support for indigenous scholarship.
This is not meant to be an exhaustive review of all of Trudell’s works—rather it is a critical entry, shedding light on him as an indigenous social theorist, and is meant to pique a sociological curiosity about his work. Establishing a short biography to understand who he was, where his perspectives came from and how they were shaped, and the roles he played as a speaker for the American Indian Movement and renowned activist, poet, and artist, is a crucial first step. I then proceed to highlight several core themes to his work and construct theory present in the media analyzed in this study. In particular, Trudell reconceptualizes understandings of power and language, evokes powerful messages on intergenerational trauma and healing, and contextualizes the social exclusion experienced by indigenous peoples while simultaneously uncovering how that process is not solely in the oppressor’s hands. Finally, I provide a discussion of these core themes and explore their application.
Methods
As discussed above, I first developed a biography through which to give context for Trudell’s works and establish his positionality in a critical time and place. I performed a textual analysis of select works of Trudell’s, which comprise a small subset of the body of his work. The album Tribal Voice was selected as particularly impactful, as it contained songs that featured in several of his books and a documentary covering his life titled Trudell. This form of analysis was inspired in part by Robert Allen Warrior’s book Tribal Secrets. Warrior encourages the construction of an indigenous intellectual tradition, yet cautions that ‘critically reading our own tradition allows us to see some of the mistakes of the past as we analyze problems of the present’ (Warrior, 1995: 2). 2 The selected materials were subjected to close reading for substantive themes, a tri-themed coding schematic developed through a grounded theory approach (Charmaz, 2012). The three themes at the core of Trudell’s work were ‘Power and Spirit’, ‘Intergenerationality and Resistance’, and ‘Social Exclusion’. Lines and stanzas that spoke to each of these themes were found throughout all the songs on this album, and two key speeches were included in this analysis as representative of Trudell’s direct calls to political action in prose. The first speech was one given at the Black Hills Survival Summit in 1980 titled ‘We are Power’, and the second was a speech given at the American Indian Community House in New York, 1992 (Igliori and Trudell, 1994). The two speeches were selected due to their influence, relevance, and accessibility.
Biography
To properly understand the contributions he made, his story must first be told. In a similar fashion to how I introduced myself at the beginning of this work, so must I first introduce Trudell, in greater detail, keeping consistent the utilization of an indigenous research praxis. John Trudell was born in Omaha, Nebraska in 1946. He lived in the Santee Sioux reservation, as his father was from there. On his mother’s side he had Mexican indigenous roots, and his grandfather rode with Poncho Villa during the Mexican Revolution. He reported that he grew up poor, but didn’t feel deprived of anything. When he was in high school, he dropped out and joined the navy as an avenue to escape where he was. ‘It wasn’t about politics, patriotism, or any of that. It was about survival’ (Trudell, quoted in Rae and Katz, 2005). He was sent to Vietnam during this time, but was relieved as North Vietnam didn’t have a navy, so he didn’t have to participate in the war in the ways people in the army or the marines did. After being stationed in Long Beach California he met his first wife, Fenicia Ordonez, whom he married in 1968. He left the navy in 1967, and studied radio and broadcasting briefly at San Bernardino Valley College.
Trudell’s radio experience was significant in his activist career. In 1969 he joined the Indians of All Tribes (IOAT) in the Occupation of Alcatraz Island and was the spokesperson for ‘Radio Free Alcatraz’. They occupied the island through the jurisprudence of the 1868 Fort Laramie Treaty which outlined that unused federal land would be returned to indigenous peoples. Trudell became a prominent speaker at that time, hosting Radio Free Alcatraz, appearing in interviews and on TV, and assisting negotiations for settlement on the island (asking more specifically for the deed to the island and for public recognition of their rights). As the Indians of All Tribes had occupied the island, they planned for establishing permanent residence and even built a school. Federal negotiators sought to undermine the sovereignty IOAT was looking for, as the government wanted to offer $250,000 and stewardship of the island but not give ownership of the island. IOAT refused those negotiations, as they saw how it undermined the legal responsibilities the federal government owed to the native community. In 1971 the federal government removed IOAT from the island using police force, despite ongoing negotiations. This was the first of many occupations Trudell would participate in during the civil rights movement era.
The American Indian Movement (AIM) began during the Occupation of Alcatraz. It originated in Minnesota in 1968, and AIM members were present during the Occupation of Alcatraz (Abbott, 2016; Wittstock and Salinas, 2008). Trudell became involved in AIM shortly after the occupation ended and became one of the most visible spokespeople for the movement. In 1972 Trudell was involved with the 1972 Trail of Broken Treaties Caravan run by AIM. They occupied the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) Headquarters for a week in Washington DC (Abbott, 2016), aiming to bring attention to the way the BIA was treating people in native communities, and presented a 20-point position paper to revive indigenous sovereignty through the elimination of all state jurisdictions over indigenous affairs. This 20-point position paper is still available on the American Indian Movement website, listing many demands for the US government to recognize legal rights and sovereignty of Native nations in the US. President Nixon refused any notion of treaty reform or recognition, and as a result of this occupation the FBI included AIM in the scope of the Counter Intelligence Program they deployed against civil rights groups and organizations and radical groups. In an effort to end the occupation, the federal government paid out over $66,000 in cash to occupiers for gas money to leave.
‘Between 1969 and 1979 the FBI amassed a 17,000 page dossier on John Trudell, one of the longest in the agency’s history’ (Rae and Katz, 2005). Through an illegal FBI Counter Intelligence Program (CointelPro), Trudell’s actions were under immense scrutiny by the US government. The 2005 documentary detailing Trudell’s life quotes a striking passage from one of these FBI memos: ‘He is extremely eloquent, therefore extremely dangerous’. Trudell’s place of residence, along with other AIM members’ homes, were reported to be under surveillance by the FBI. As a result of constant surveillance, the FBI gathered a particularly large file on Trudell which is publicly available online. 3
From 1973 to 1979, Trudell went on to serve as National Chairman for AIM (Leovy and Robert, 2015). In February of 1973 AIM occupied Wounded Knee to take a stand for the Fort Laramie Treaty rights of 1868. It became a 71-day occupation and shootout between AIM members and the federal government. ‘AIM picked Wounded Knee, but the government picked South Dakota. Because it shut down the momentum of AIM’ (Trudell, quoted in Rae and Katz, 2005). There was a great deal of private interest in mineral and uranium rights in the Black Hills of South Dakota at the time, which Trudell felt was a factor in the government’s stance on AIM, viewing them as a threat and escalating their response to AIM’s activism. Trudell goes on to explain that the arrest and sentencing of Leonard Peltier for the murder of two FBI agents on Pine Ridge Reservation was another tactic of the government to kill any momentum AIM had left, and to build a narrative against AIM as a violent militant group.
Trudell also noted that the issues AIM raised with the treatment of indigenous peoples had resonated with the general population outside of Indian Country, and that the government wanted to prevent AIM from building support any further than they already had (Rae and Katz, 2005). Between 1973 and 1975, AIM was viewed as a terrorist group and a war was waged against AIM members, organization, and activism. During this time period, the Pine Ridge Reservation had the highest murder rate in the country, and video footage on television of US involvement and interference looked incredibly similar to that of Vietnam, an active site of war. 4 ‘The political murder rate on Pine Ridge during that time was equivalent to that of the US supported military coup in Chile during the Pinochet regime’ (Rae and Katz, 2005).
In 1975 a firefight took place on Pine Ridge Reservation between two FBI agents and AIM members. The conflict resulted in the murder of Joseph Stuntz, a member of AIM, and the death of the invading FBI agents. Three men were held on trial for the murder of the FBI agents: Dino Butler, Bob Robideau, and Leonard Peltier. Trudell and his second wife Tina testified that they were innocent and organized for their freedom. Butler and Robideau were acquitted of their charges in 1976, and in 1977 Leonard Peltier was sentenced to two life sentences.
John met Tina Manning while at Tulsa University at a speaking engagement, and they went on to have several kids together. She was a community woman, and while John worked more broadly with AIM on a national level, Tina worked on the ground level within her community focusing on educational and community building initiatives, as well as the implementation of acts of sovereignty on the Duck Valley Reservation. Tina was also from the Duck Valley Reservation and her work served to contribute to community sovereignty. Her role was significant in a different way than John’s, and he acknowledged how important her impacts were outside of any connection to him.
On February 11th, 1979, John attended a protest at the steps of the FBI headquarters in Washington D.C. and burned the US flag, claiming that the US did not represent the values it claimed to. Less than 12 hours later, his home on the Duck Valley Reservation burned down with Tina, their two children and unborn child, and Tina’s mother inside. This was an absolutely devastating event for John, and while the BIA conducted an investigation into what caused the event, they claimed that the cause was a faulty fire trap. Understandably, Trudell was suspicious of their findings, given the involvement of the FBI in his personal life, the massive file they kept on him, and the constant surveillance he and his home had endured from FBI agents at the behest of CointelPro. His suspicion led him to take political asylum in Canada and prompted him to hire a private investigation of the fire. The results of that private investigation were inconclusive, but what they did conclude on was that the results of the BIA’s investigation were impossible. ‘I died then. I needed to die, to survive’ (Trudell in the documentary; Rae and Katz, 2005).
Trudell’s trip to Canada also provided space to process and recover emotionally from his loss. Through an interview in the documentary, he revealed that was when a lot of the lines for his poetry came to him. He attributed them to Tina, as a parting gift to help him get through those times. He said that he went on to follow those lines, that they took him down a path that later became his career as a poet and song maker. His activity as an activist shifted after this event, and he focused on producing music, acting, and his work dubbed as art. He spoke at various engagements in many capacities, at universities and private events, and continued working with communities broadly within the US and Canada. AIM slowed their activities as well, but as Trudell put it in an interview for the documentary surrounding his life: ‘The lasting effect of the activistic period is that it made the spirit of the people stronger’ (Rae and Katz, 2005).
John later went on to produce many albums, the first and likely most prominent being his album Tribal Voice published in 1983, which is central to the analysis in this paper. His other albums included Graffiti Man (1986, rereleased in 2017), Heart Jump Bouquet (1987), But This Isn’t El Salvador (1987), Fables and Other Realities (1991), Children of Earth: Child’s Voice (1992), Johnny Damas and Me (1994), Bone Days (2001), DNA: Descendant Now Ancestor, Crazier Than Hell (2010), Madness and the Moremes (2007), Wazi’s Dream (2015), and Blue Indians. He published several books titled Living in Reality (1982), Stickman (1994), Indigo Rouges (1999), and Lines From a Mined Mind (2008). 5 Throughout his career as an artist and poet, he collaborated with several artists after the 2000s, and appeared in several films including critically acclaimed film Smoke Signals (1998). 6 On December 8th, 2015 John passed away in his home after a long struggle with cancer (Weber, 2015). His passing was covered in a variety of news sites, from Indian Country Today Media Network featuring an open letter from his family (ICT Staff, 2015; Indian Country Today, 2016), to acknowledgements from the New York Times, LA Times, Washington Post, and CBC News (CBC News: Anon, 2015; Leovy and Robert, 2015; The Washington Post: Anon, 2015; Weber, 2015).
In sum, Trudell was a significant member of the native community during a critical time when our civil and legal rights were being fought for. His perspective as a Lakota and Mexican man helped shape his perspectives and grounded him in indigenous thought, and his work as an activist was central to AIM. His words were clear and resonated not only with the Native community, but with broader American society to a point where the US government perceived him as a threat. After Tina’s passing, Trudell’s time spent producing music, films, and speaking were critical to the proliferation of his ideas beyond that time. His work was incredibly critical of the United States and its state power, leaving a lasting impact on his listeners and followers.
Textual Analysis
This analysis examines the album Tribal Voice and two key speeches he gave: We Are Power, 7 a speech given at the Black Hills Survival Gathering in 1980 and an untitled speech given in 1992 at the American Indian Community House in New York (Igliori and Trudell, 1994), employing a grounded theory approach (Charmaz, 2012). As an activist from the civil rights era, his work is reflective of that time, yet leaves important contributions that transcend that particular period. In particular, Trudell (1) reconceptualizes understandings of power and language; (2) evokes powerful messages on intergenerational trauma and healing; and (3) contextualizes the social exclusion experienced by indigenous peoples while simultaneously uncovering how that process is not solely in the oppressor’s hands. These themes are all interconnected and interrelated, thus they overlap with each other a great deal. Trudell coupled spoken poetry with indigenous music in the background, and the content of the songs that I will focus on will show how Trudell emphasized certain phrases and words through the breaks in the poetry.
Power and Spirit: Words as Power and Spiritual Connections
Reaching back to his time of intense activism with AIM, Trudell was incredibly aware of the power of language, and practiced intentionality in its application. His considerate use of language during the Occupation of Alcatraz was evident in appearances he made on television and radio to the American public about the rationale for occupying the island. He stated that IOAN weren’t there for political or moral reasons they were there for legal reasons, and implementing their legal rights through the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868. His specificity with the word ‘legal’ was critical to garnering recognition of the legal rights of indigenous nations within the United States and Canada, and helped shape the foundation for AIM’s platform and goals during that time.
This is one example of his long history of intentionality with language, but one of his most contentious uses of language stems from the term ‘power’. In a speech given in 1992 at the American Indian Community House in New York, he lays out some of the specifics of his issues with the term and concept. This speech provides very explicit definitions and understandings of what power is, and while his interpretations in songs are cogent, this speech provides a particular insight into how he defines and conceives of power.
The sun, the rain, and the wind— that you go away from here understanding that this is power and this is the only true real power; this is it the only true real connection we will ever have to power— our relationship to the mother earth. We must not become confused and deceived by their illusions. There is no such thing as military power; there is only military terrorism. There is no such thing as economic power; there is only economic exploitation. That is all that it is. They try to program our minds and fool us with these illusions so that we will believe that they hold the power in their hands but they do not. All they know how to do is act in a repressive, brutal way . . . (Igliori and Trudell, 1994)
The meaning of the word power for Trudell is clarified above: that power is a natural entity. 8 The use of the word power as if it was possessed and controlled by (only some) humans is a strategic abuse of the word. These are illusions of power, as he puts it, meant to separate people from a true understanding of what power is and what it means. Through renaming this colonial misconception of power ‘terrorism’ and ‘exploitation’, he re-appropriates the word to his own lexicon. Making a distinction of the common misconceptions around power, Trudell clarifies that there is an industrial ruling class 9 that actively exploits misconceptions of power to their benefit.
Conceiving of power as a natural process and a part of the earth, and connecting people to the earth as part of a natural process, produces an understanding of power as something that is collective. Power is a connective force, embedded within us and tying us to the natural world. It is within everyone and provides a foundation of strength for collective action. This structurally shifts an understanding of power away from a force that governments, militaries, and religious organizations can abuse, to a unifying element that connects us all and ties us to the earth. As he continues with his speech We Are Power at the Black Hills, he adds further context on what our relationship to power is.
. . . Power . . . we are a natural part of the earth. We are an extension of the earth, we are not separate from it. We are a part of it. The earth is our mother. The earth is a spirit and we are an extension of that spirit. We are spirit. We are power. They want us to believe that we have to believe in them and depend upon them and we have to consume these consumer identities and these religious identities and these political identities and these racial identities. They want to separate us from our power. They want to separate us from who we are.
What does Trudell mean by power here by ‘we are power’? He connects human beings with open terms like ‘we’ and ‘us’ to the earth, connected through spirit. ‘We are spirit’ and ‘We are power’ are one in the same, building an understanding of power as spirit, something natural that cannot be taken from us unless we allow it to be. In this context, Trudell is grounded in indigenous teachings; ideas of interconnectedness through spirit and spirit connection are present in a number of indigenous epistemologies and worldviews as described in the introduction. Interconnectedness is foundational in indigenous ways of thinking, and is held up by Trudell here as the mode of resistance to the separateness of Western religious or consumer identities.
Trudell attempts to disentangle colonial implementations of power and re-centers power away from the oppressor. This decolonization of thought is present in the ways in which he chooses to frame what he’s saying. When he asserts that ‘They want us to believe that we have to believe in them and depend upon them’, he indicates government interference in indigenous nations and forced reliance upon the US government. As an example, the US forced indigenous people to have to rely on nutritionally poor food after implementation of the reservation system, leading to health problems and food insecurity persisting in native populations today (Sagaskie, 2019).
Trudell mentions consumer identities, religious identities, political identities, and racial identities as some of the categories through which people have been subjected to and forced to align with through this postcolonial system. Consuming these identities, he argues, attempts to keep us separate from our power and who we are. In this case, he is re-asserting indigenous conceptions of self, power, and connections. Internalizing and accepting definitions of power as force, and by accepting categories of the oppressor, indigenous teachings and understandings of power and spirit get lost in translation and separation from these ideas is a separation from our identities and power.
We have to re-establish our identity, we have to understand who we are and where we fit in the natural order of the world because our oppressor deals in illusions. They tell us that it is power, but it is not power. They may have all the guns and they may have all the racist laws and judges, and they may control all the money, but that is not power. These are imitations of power and they are only power because in our minds we allow it to be power. The brutality of the American corporate state way of life is nothing more than violence and repression and it has nothing to do with power: it is brutality. It is a lack of a sane balance. They have made us out of balance. They have come into our minds and into our hearts and they have programmed us. And because we are out of balance we no longer have the power to deal with them. See,
As he constructs the notion that separation from understandings of power that lie with the earth and natural processes is an attempt at keeping us separate from our identities and our power, Trudell also explains that a re-establishment of traditional notions of power and connections to the earth and our surroundings is necessary. By saying ‘They have made us out of balance’, he’s saying to regain balance and our power, we need to remember who we are, our connections, and how we fit into natural systems. Trudell offers more insights into how the definitions of power given by the oppressor, those of violence and force, affect not just indigenous peoples but all peoples. During times of intense activism, especially for indigenous peoples, our voices are not heard or listened to, and protests don’t always end in success. Trudell offers the insight that, as long as violence and oppression are viewed as power, people will feel powerless until they remember this deeper sense of power that he invokes. Trudell’s definition of power offers strength to individual and community agency.
While the two speeches offer very explicit definitions of what power is and is not, his songs represent these ideas in more abstract terms. These explicit terms offer a useful baseline for understanding what Trudell is talking about throughout his songs, with an excellent example at the beginning of the song Listening.
I was listening to the voices of life Chanting in unison Carry on the struggle The generations surge together In resistance To meet the reality of power Mother Earth embraces her children In natural beauty to last beyond Oppressors brutality As the butterfly floats into life We are the spirit of natural life Which is forever The power of understanding Real connections to spirit Is meaning our resistance, our struggle Is not sacrifice lost It is natural energy Properly used
This stanza connects several of the themes covered in this paper, yet offers a specific example of the application of Trudell’s definition of power in his songs. Power is connected to spirit, mother earth, and natural processes. He describes it as the reality of power, defining another boundary between oppressive violence and force (here stated as brutality) and power that has a foundation in connection and individual agency. Trudell uses direct metaphors to parallel how we are a part of natural life and natural systems, and even embraced by Mother Earth. These messages are especially important for the next section, which focuses on intergenerational connectedness and resistance, as they serve as important reminders for when efforts of resistance may not alter oppressive or colonial acts.
Trudell’s intentional and critical use of language came from a space where civil and legal rights were being fought for across the nation. To understand and break down colonial illusions surrounding language, he brings a thoughtful approach to analyzing the specificity of words grounded in indigenous ways of viewing the world. This led him to re-define power and its usage. He acknowledged that through colonial illusionary use of the word power, we become separated from the Earth and natural lifeways and instead associate power with force and violence. That process disconnects us from power, and he reminds us that it is imperative that we remember our connections to each other, the world around us, and through that our true connection to power. The implications of such a definition offer an empowering approach to discussing state violence and individual agency, recognizing resistance as the utilization of power.
Intergenerationality and Resistance: The Generations Remembering the Past to Rebuild the Future 11
Endure The people cry out Tears of anger Tears of sorrow Flowing giving birth to resistance Young ones to remember struggle For the people cry out Tears of happiness Tears of joy Washing the pain Cleansing the spirit Giving strength The generations remembering the past To rebuild the future For weeping is another way of laughing And resisting and outlasting the enemy.
12
His words in this collection of lines and stanzas reflect a collective processing of intergenerational and historical trauma, as well as trauma that he faced during his time with AIM. The processing involved acknowledging the emotions, individually and collectively, of these experiences. The segment above in particular emphasizes what grounded him, the emotions of the people laying the foundation for resistance. Intergenerational connectivity lays the grounding for strength, the core of the resistance, and provides a path forward towards the future. The connection of weeping to laughing and resistance is another way of acknowledging intergenerational healing-bolstering and strengthening the efforts of the resistance he and other indigenous peoples shared during the time of the civil rights movement.
Yesterdays laughter Is the balance for today Today’s tears Are the cleansing for tomorrow We started out so long ago There was no one to teach us What we had to know The days were ours The times they were extreme We did our best and we did our worst in The constant struggle to understand why Illusions and fantasies battering us Teaching us the hard way Forcing us to find a right way Shelter and comfort coming where we found it Constantly moving it was like being Chased by something we did not understand Many are the times we could Have just laid down and died But the will of life Helped us to survive As we travel through life With yesterday’s laughter The balance for today And today’s tears A cleansing for tomorrow.
13
While his poetry focuses on the connections through time, connections from the past to the present and future, he also discusses the difficulty his generation had in handling the struggles they faced. His insights came from attempting to rationalize and understand why they were facing what they were, and how to navigate those challenges. Constantly returning to ideas of yesterday’s laughter, tears of happiness and tears of joy, he found strength from the generations before him and connected those to the resilience he and his generation needed to get through the struggles they faced during their period of activism.
It took the times we didn’t care about living To learn survivors survive whether they want to or not It took the pain the grief and The dying to remember What gets forgotten in the living It took the lessons of a thousand Generations to get through the Time of yesterday It took the joyful songs of laughter To last beyond today in to tomorrow.
14
The grounding he found in past generations and the connections to trauma, pain, and struggle reflect in the lines above, yet they also show an attempt at conveying that learned knowledge and lessons to following generations. Passing on this information, Trudell emphasizes resilience and strength in connections to the past and to community. Solace is found with the expanse of time, as he points out the temporality of these experiences. He starts with the experiences of those who survived the initial genocide, surviving whether they wanted to or not. The pain they endured reminded them of what was important, and reminded them of how to live properly. The collective experiences of generations past provided a path into the future and reminded them to laugh and enjoy life, which helped them heal. Lasting beyond today into tomorrow—making it to tomorrow—he is connecting to power through ancestral lines. Resilience is found in connection to power, power being in the spiritual connection to the generations, helping resist colonial and capitalist forces. The relationship between power as natural, intergenerational strength, and the rejection of capitalist forms of repression will become evident in the next stanza.
Young ones listen Remember who we are Remember where we are Do not take the word of America Listen to them as in caution Live among them as in surrounded Live not as they live Live to appreciate Seconds ago in eternity Ancient ones decided Way before wounded spirits Dreams shattering under aggression Earth is Mother, we are children The protection is our innocence Seconds ago it was decided We are the middle of forever Look for your medicine There is a white world gone mad Thinking protection is in force Greed the machine preys on them But they will not admit it Or do anything about it They have no medicine With backs turned on children and elders They do not even care For air or water or land or life Too confused to care is no way to live Young ones listen Remember who you are Remember where you are Remember why you are
Connection to the generations provides space and strength for survival and healing, yet Trudell also encourages scrutiny and caution to following generations. His warning is rooted in the experiences he had during his time with AIM, but reflects the broader pattern of alienation indigenous peoples have faced historically and contemporarily. With lines such as ‘seconds ago in eternity, ancient ones decided’ and ‘seconds ago it was decided, we are the middle of forever’ Trudell situates a broader timeline in which we exist within a temporary space. Temporal reminders are given to situate our resistance inside a lasting space, and that immediate violence and repression are temporary. What is lasting, and where resistance can build, is in our connections to teachings given before colonialism and before the unique forms of violence and repression associated with colonialism and capitalism. He grounds Native experiences in traditional teachings and reminds youth not to forget these teachings of connection to the generations, the earth, and life. This grounding is something he implies that the ‘white world’ has forgotten, defining a boundary between broader American society and indigenous societies, but suggests that there is room for remembrance. As ‘Greed the machine preys on them, but they won’t admit it or do anything about it’, Trudell makes clear that a capitalistic force feeds on people in America, yet there is no acknowledgement or movement against it. This force is what makes the ‘white world gone mad’, and it benefits disconnecting people from land, water, and connection to our relatives—human and nonhuman. Providing reminders for traditional indigenous knowledge and teachings helps put into action his words on re-establishing our identity. Urging youth to remember these ways and not to fall into dominant discourses within the US, he emphatically communicates what was needed for him and other activists to make it through their time and struggles, and to not lose that focus. Nestled within his advice for future generations and throughout his work broadly, Trudell provides rationalization for our mistreatment and offers a way forward for healing.
As a theme and central point of Trudell’s work, his words resound through the generations. He gives reminders to future listeners and generations the lessons of his generation and the temporality of their struggles to relate to our own. We may feel isolated in the now, but the spirit of resistance, power, and the nature of our struggles are consistent across past and future. The interconnectedness of our experiences remind us that we are not alone, and the reminders he provides encourage us to seek connection to the past, culture, and our communities past and present to make it through until the time of tomorrow. Sharing the resilience of our ancestors supports our resistance against colonial and capitalist forces, forces that actively feed on all people. Connecting to our intergenerational power and resilience, seeing time as nonlinear in those connections, and seeing our current span of time as temporal, are all points that are necessary for resisting colonial and capitalistic forces. He suggests that the white world has forgotten these connections, yet retains the potential to remember. While his words certainly represent conversations with indigenous people and indigenous youth, the ideas are salient across race and provide critical reflection of resistance from someone on the front lines of resistance movements.
Social Exclusion
From Trudell’s history and interactions with the federal government, his experience was one of disenfranchisement individually and collectively of indigenous peoples. The lack of recognition of legal rights coupled with the actions the government took in refusing to listen or negotiate with AIM and on Alcatraz set a clear precedent that indigenous lives, thoughts, and legal rights were negligible. Native people were not the only ones to experience this form of oppression or repression during this time, and there is a keen literature within sociology that has examined the ways in which race has played a factor in political, social, and institutional exclusion (Itzigsohn and Brown, 2020; Lipsitz, 1995; Ratcliffe, 1999; Wesselmann and Williams, 2017). Notably, Du Bois’ conceptualizations of double consciousness and the veil that analyze the treatment of black folks and the lenses black folks develop through that institutional exclusion (Du Bois, 2018; Itzigsohn and Brown, 2020) stand out amongst the literature and are similar to the critiques Trudell develops. Trudell effectively communicates the legal and social exclusion indigenous people face through his songs, and even flips the exclusionary process around. While he was the victim of processes of social exclusion, he goes a step further and explains that he refuses to participate in US society under which systems of oppression, alienation, and exploitation occur.
At times they were kind. They were polite in their sophist-o-cation. Smiling, but never too loudly. Acting in civilized manner an illusion of gentleness always fighting to get their way. While the people see, the people know, the people wait, the people say, the closing of your doors will never shut us out. the closing of your doors can only shut you in.
15
Trudell highlights part of the process of exclusion indigenous people have faced, with terms of politeness and smiles with ulterior motives. The disingenuous actions are a proxy for the language and discourse of the US government, especially through the process of westward expansion and colonialism as treaties were formed and broken repetitively by the US. Yet Trudell takes this process and explains that indigenous people were not ignorant to the lies. Institutionalized racial discrimination and exploitation is detrimental to the general population of the US as well, as alienation and marginalization of indigenous peoples inadvertently isolates the American population from systems of connection. The lines ‘the closing of your doors will never shut us out. The closing of your doors can only shut you in’, vocalize directly the reversal of social exclusion processes.
Indigenous peoples are not the only ones who have been systematically excluded and targeted by racist government policies: this process of inadvertent alienation connects to concepts of loneliness that Trudell explores in other lines, as the processes of exclusion employed by the US isolate white Americans from other racial groups through discriminatory policies. Exclusion was a tactic employed through colonization, producing hierarchies of race and culminating in a system of global white supremacy. The legacy of that system has not been entirely dismantled, and Trudell talked about a specific way in which it continues to isolate people.
Trying to isolate us in a dimension called loneliness. Leading us into the trap. Believe in their power, but not in ourselves. Piling us with guilt. Always taking the blame. Greed chasing out the balance. Trying to isolate us in a dimension called loneliness. Economic deities seizing power through illusions. Created armies are justified. Class systems are democracy. God listens to war mongers’ prayers. Tyranny is here. Divide and conquer. Trying to isolate us in a dimension called loneliness. Greed apparent. Insecurity, the happiness companion. Genocide conceived in sophist-o-cation. Tech-no-logic material civilization, a rationalization, replacing a way to live. Trying to isolate us in a dimension called loneliness.
16
A dimension called loneliness; an exploration of power, the effects of social exclusion, and systems of colonial abuse. Trudell discusses economic and class inequalities, with military force being justified to make a profit. The phrase ‘trying to isolate us in a dimension called loneliness’ can be understood through several perspectives. First, it can be understood from the perspective of indigenous people, addressing the emotional journeys of how forced assimilation into abusive colonial systems impacts indigenous peoples. It is clear Trudell is talking to an indigenous audience about our journeys. ‘Greed chasing out the balance’ is an excellent example, as ideas of balance are central to indigenous epistemologies and pedagogies (Bell, 2013: 100–101; Hoffman, 2013). The colonial capitalistic force created an imbalance, relating to his conception of power as a natural process that we are part of, and the imbalance representing a disconnect from power. Western ideas of modernity are critiqued by pacing the word ‘technologic’ into three words: tech-no-logic. The phrase ‘Replacing a way to live’ adds to this critique and is explicit about the forced indoctrination and assimilation at work.
The second perspective on the phrase on isolation can be understood from the reversal of social exclusion. ‘Trying to isolate us in a dimension called loneliness’ can designate people who are being indoctrinated into a colonial system, but also implicates people who are already a part of that system. Trudell described many of the facets of how those systems affect people on an emotional level, using terms like guilt and insecurity. He is critical of systems of economic exploitation and how they impact people on a socioemotional level with emphasis on their isolating effects. Trudell frequently uses the term ‘illusion’ to insist that the economic and political elite are working to build a façade of power to capture it, and while it is clear he is talking about it from the perspective of an indigenous man he is also saying that people within the US are also victims of that exploitation and deception. He applies his understanding of power to everyone. The illusions mean to disenfranchise all people from power and place it in the institutions, associating power with force and authority, to continue feeding systems that exploit the people.
Religion was a focal point of critique for Trudell in many of his songs and speeches, as he clearly saw it as an extension of the predatory systems of colonialism he encountered regularly. In the stanza above, he relates God and Christianity as being complicit with capitalistic forms of violence, justifying war. His song Living in Reality encapsulates all of the themes discussed above in speaking directly to ‘Ronald America 17 ’in a scathing critique.
For Ronald America This time I almost wanted to believe you When you said it would be all right You wanted to end the suffering And the deliberateness of the wrongs Were only in my imagination This time I almost wanted to believe you When you implied the times of Sorrow were buried in the past Never would we have to worry About shadows and memories Clinging and draining the strength From our souls This time I almost wanted to believe you When you spoke of peace and love and Caring and duty and God and destiny But somehow the death in your eyes and Your bombs and your taxes and your Greed and your facelift told me This time I cannot afford to believe you
Trudell’s conversation with America critiques disappointing rhetoric from the US. It illustrates the intergenerational trauma and pain that he and other indigenous peoples face and emphasizes that after so many lies from the federal government skepticism had to occur. This connects clearly with his experiences with Alcatraz and AIM fighting for legal recognition, and the historical legal fight for recognition and accountability of treaty rights. After a certain point of disenfranchisement, he knew better than to trust in US structures, institutions, and processes that explicitly ignored indigenous agency and refused to hold themselves accountable to agreements with indigenous peoples. Social exclusion by the state led to a refusal to want to participate in said systems.
He continues in that same song to critique the capitalist economic system of the US and its entanglement with religion:
Industrial Slave Industrial slave Capitalist and communist imperialist Smiling with false faces Beckoning us with their lies about progress Wanting us to enjoy the rape of earth And our minds Industrial slave Fork-tongue legalistic contract chains Turning our visions To tech-no-logic nightmares National security war makers Desecrating the natural world And Gods still trying to get over what You done to his boy Industrial slave Material bound law and order Religious salvation Individually alone Industrial slave Without Earth There Is No Heaven Streets of gold Angels wings eternal life Corporate Reich nuclear regimes Maximizing profit eating identities Plundering natural allies as though Earth is dead Allowing religious rite collection Plate tributes to church and state With Christ still hanging From the Cross Echoing industrial war cries Warring against body and soul Attacking spirit Lying to enslave with an illusion About freedom
After communicating the refusal of the US to treat him and other indigenous peoples properly, his commentary on the US building a system of ‘industrial slavery’ not only shows discontentment with the actions of the US government, but provides a commentary on how the actions of the government have produced an isolating system. He returns to this sense of isolation he communicated in other songs, here only touching on it, but relating it to these larger processes of exploitation through military justifications and religious salvation. Trudell’s combined address to religion and military institutions is a reflection of experiences of colonialism, as religion and military came hand in hand as separate tools for the colonizer to abuse indigenous peoples. Yet, in a separate fashion, these institutions wrap Americans into cycles of isolation and loneliness that exclude them from the natural world. Plundering natural allies as though earth is dead, attacking spirit, and beckoning us with lies about progress as we enjoy the rape of earth are all lines that build into this narrative of isolation from natural processes. Towards the end of this stanza he likens these processes to a war against body and spirit. As discussed in the section on power, Trudell’s definition and understanding of power relies on spiritual connection and acknowledgement of humanity’s position within natural processes. Christianity, or Christian-based religions, provide an isolating salvation for military expansion and destruction of the natural world. This creates overlapping systems that exponentiate feelings of isolation for people within the US. Indigenous peoples feel the accumulating weight of these systems, intensified by indoctrination into a foreign oppressive system.
Our own agency to decide whether we participate in genocidal, oppressive colonial systems allows us to reclaim and remember our own power. Trudell’s reminders to look past the deceptive language put forth by a colonial America allow us to see the reality that is our own power. As we are affected by these isolating capitalist systems of dominance and oppression, we feel a sense of social exclusion, yet Trudell’s critical approach to language encourages us to see that those actions and words only further isolate those systems and peoples. The American system he criticizes further alienates its people through lies about ‘progress’, illusions of ‘freedom’, and religious and military deception. The process of social exclusion that is enforced upon us is one which truly happens conversely, and this theme reveals a core component to colonial machinations that indigenous communities worldwide (as well as marginalized communities and other communities deemed deviant) could benefit from examining further within their own relationships to colonial entities.
What Could a ‘Trudellian’ Focus Look Like Within Sociology?
Trudell has been a source of support for indigenous academics, referenced in materials ranging from Environmental and Indigenous pedagogies (Bell, 2013), socio-historical analysis (Fenelon, 2023), featured in Project 562 (Wilbur, 2023), and even authored a chapter in the book Original Instructions: Indigenous Teachings for a Sustainable Future (Nelson, 2008). Calling attention to Trudell as a social theorist seeks to honor his contributions and provide space for indigenous approaches to sociological theory.
What could a ‘Trudellian’ focus look like within sociology? Trudell’s discussion of power is central to understanding much of his work, yet he also makes acute criticisms of capitalism as a force that actively works against us and describes the exploitation of labor as a mining process. One application of Trudell’s approach to power could explore how his definition of power may relate or conflict with Brayboy’s application of power in TribCrit? Brayboy offers an exploration of indigenous approaches to power as an expression of sovereignty, going on to define it as ‘the ability to survive rooted in the capacity to adapt and adjust to changing landscapes, times, ideas, circumstances, and situations’ (Brayboy, 2005: 435). Brayboy’s definition is similar to the temporal language of survival that Trudell describes in the form of intergenerational resilience, however the definition could be bolstered by Trudell’s observations of power as natural. It is in our connections to place, environment, human and nonhuman relations that power lies, enabling our survival and capacity to adapt. Brayboy goes on to illustrate a relationship between culture, knowledge and power: ‘culture is the base for knowledge that ultimately leads to power’ (p. 436). Though Brayboy describes these relationships as reciprocal, Trudell’s definition would suggest that even in the absence of culture and knowledge, power is inherent. To view power otherwise would disenfranchise ourselves, disconnecting us from environment and relations, isolating us and leaving us vulnerable to systems of domination and abuse. Tribal Critical Race Theory has been an incredibly useful tool for sovereignty and breaking down legal structural racism, how would the inclusion of Trudell’s definition assist Brayboy’s (2013) critiques of colonial structures? There is room for exploration in future work.
Trudell’s thoughts on intergenerationality are extremely salient with global indigenous resistance. His words embolden scholars and peoples surviving amidst colonial, capitalist forces and may encourage scholarly engagement from other struggles against genocide and colonial occupation. How could his perspectives on intergenerational resilience translate across cultural bounds? As Palestinians in Gaza continue to face political violence and colonial repression, a recent review of Palestinian dance tied the cultural dance dabke to a form of steadfastness known to Palestinians as sumud (Rustom, 2025). Sumud was defined as ‘a determination to exist by being steadfast and rooted to the land’ (Rustom, 2025: 25). Dabke was identified as a particular artistic form of healing through trauma while reconnecting to land, self, and community. As Rustom described the embodiment of Sumud through Dabke, therein lies a grounding within the generations reminiscent of Trudell’s perspectives. Ideas of intergenerationality are present, and the language Trudell utilizes could lend support to other indigenous analysis of resistance.
His work on social exclusion narrows in on the language of oppression, critically re-examining the use of isolating and marginalizing language to think about how the process truly occurs inversely. An application of this understanding of social exclusion could examine the exclusion of scholars of color from sociological literature, contributing to the argument that necessitates the inclusion of scholars like Trudell. With the recent call to return to Du Bois (Morris, 2017, 2022), Trudell’s work comes to mind in conversation around Du Bois’ conceptualization of the veil (Du Bois, 2018), extending its application to how this exclusionary process leaves the discipline in the dark, isolating it from the abundance of theory that exists outside of its canon.
Trudell did not develop these ideas in a vacuum. Further work should delve into the deeply interrelated ideas Trudell presents and connect them to other indigenous theorists. He described his work in the album Tribal Voice as a parting gift from Tina Manning, gifted to him through dreams, and developed these ideas alongside his teachers and the women who were the driving force behind AIM and the spiritual re-awakening of Indian Country. Much of the history around AIM focuses on and centers the men of the movement who were placed in the spotlight. Mihesuah (2003) calls particular attention to this patriarchal focus within historical and indigenous scholarship in her discussion of women in the Red Power movement and Anna Mae Pictou-Aquash (pp. 9–13). As Trudell’s work continues scholarly exploration, so should the contributions of indigenous women whose work has been dismissed and misattributed.
Conclusion
The biography presented in this paper outlined his long and complex life, providing context for his work and words. Trudell’s interactions with the United States government and FBI through his time of activism show that he was seen as dangerous and subversive, and his ability to rally people with his words was considered a threat to existing systems of ‘power’. Trudell’s re-evaluation of power and intentional use of language, his critical engagement with the temporality of oppression and intergenerational resilience as a source of resistance, and reversal of social exclusion processes are a few of the many layers of social theory Trudell presents in his spoken poetry. This work may serve as a critical entry for examining the abundance of social theory Trudell has to offer, and as a conceptual foundation for integrating indigenous epistemologies with sociology.
Trudell held myriad identities as he passed through his life journey: musician, activist, poet, speaker, veteran, and father to name a few; yet he often rejected such labels and identities, choosing above all to be known as a human being. It is likely that he would reject the title ‘social theorist’. Why go through all the trouble of analyzing his songs and speeches then? The ideas he presented are social theory. Our stories, songs, and lived experiences are indigenous forms of theory, and are treated as such within indigenous scholarship. As Trudell’s work continues to influence indigenous scholarship and resistance movements, it is critical for the field of sociology to confront its colonial foundations and expand its consideration of social theory.
