Kathleen: About that sweat lodge...

This is not a Native American sweat lodge. How can you tell? It's covered with plastic.








This is definitely not a Native American sweat lodge. It's not a even a Native American style sweat lodge. This is the structure used recently in Arizona during a "spiritual warrior" event that resulted in 3 deaths. I heard and read the "Native American" reference over and over again in the news reports. Call it New Age (whatever that means) or motivational magic or self discovery, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that what you see here bears little resemblance to Native American tradition and that reporters and self-help gurus alike should refrain from adding insult to injury by drawing any kind of comparison between American Indian ceremonies and the kind of activity that went on at the Sedona retreat.

I've written about Lakota ceremonies in many of my novels. I'm not Lakota, and I've never participated in inipi--the sweat lodge ceremony--but my husband and my sons have. I've been present. I've heard the songs and the prayers, but always from the outside. (Heck, I've been known to faint in a steamy bathroom.) I've been to Sun Dance, which is truly a moving experience.

This is a Native American sweat lodge. Yes, it's a little old, but it's authentic. They're still made this way. It's a willow frame covered with tanned hides or canvas. Maybe some blankets, but they tend to drip. No plastic. Plastic doesn't breathe. Notice the size. Clyde says he's never been in a sweat lodge with more than 10 participants, and usually not that many. Not just anybody can run a sweat in Indian Country, and no one pays to attend. People contribute food, and they might bring a gift of tobacco, sage or sweetgrass. Holy Men (aka, medicine men) do not charge fees. Ever. Traditional Lakota ceremonies like inipi and hanbleceya (the vision quest, to which guru James Arthur Ray has also tried to lay claim) are not part of a for-profit enterprise. Lakota spirituality is not for sale. If you're paying $10,000 for your "spiritual warrior" experience, it has nothing to do with Native American tradition. I'm not saying you won't get anything out of it, but buyer beware. And seller, be honest. And reporter, for heaven's sake, tell it like it is.

Why do I broach this subject here in the convertible? I spoke of Snopes a few days ago--a fact-checking site that helps us separate fact from fiction. I've blogged about stereotypes in the past. We're readers and writers here. Of all the cultures that are part of our American "melting pot," native cultures seem to be the most fictionalized.

I love fiction. Love it. Read it all the time. I can find more truth in 200 pages of good fiction than a week's worth of cable news. And I'm a news junkie. How about you? What kind of truth do you find in fiction? What kind of truth does a writer try to bring to her fiction, and how does she achieve that? And what about facts? Are they getting lost in this Age of Information?

I've got another autographed copy of IN CARE OF SAM BEAUDRY for one of our commenting passengers today. (Sam's brother, Zach, is coming to a store near you December 1 in ONE COWBOY, ONE CHRISTMAS.)

Even a Caveman Can Do It

What’s wrong with stereotypes?

Good question; glad you asked. I’ve been thinking about that lately—lately being the last coupla few decades—and I have a coupla few thoughts on the subject that I’d love to tie in after I trot out my Alpha Man of the Hour.

Here he is: The Geico Caveman. I love those commercials! Remember the old Folger’s coffee ongoing romance commercials? Misunderstood Caveman is way better. “So simple, even a caveman can do it.” Currently our sensitive, tortured, hirsute hero is in therapy. “How would you like it if they said ‘So simple even a therapist could do it?’” Well, that just wouldn’t make sense. Love it, love it, love it. If we have to stereotype somebody—some human body—it might as well be the caveman, right? Is this not the ultimate alpha male? Or, at the very least, a great piece of satire.

And our society does enjoy the easy caricature—the stereotype. Stereotyping is lazy writing and lazy visual art, but it’s a powerful political and social tool. It’s powerful because it seems so innocuous. It’s just a little joke. A fable, a fairytale. A story to entertain the children. Or teach the slanted lesson about history, tradition, identity or social values. Or a way to underscore one group’s claim to being “in” or chosen or elite or somehow superior to another. And that other group is so simple, so easily boiled down to a few “characteristic” traits that they become a cipher. A stereotype.

So far we’re probably mostly in agreement. But what about the stereotypes that creep into our little corner of the world? I’m talking genre fiction. I’m talking Romance. We don’t see as many of the noble savage/white captive covers as we once did, but when I got started in this business—back when Geicoman was knee high to an eohippus—we’d pay a visit to the
paperback book rack in the grocery store, and my kids would zero right in on the 101 “Savage” titles and pipe right up with “Why is this Indian dude dragging the white lady onto his horse?” Their dad’s a damn good rider, so I can’t imagine why he’s never tried to pull that trick. (Okay, he didn’t have to. Two days after we met he got his horse to rear up Roy Rogers-style, and I said “My Hero!”) Ah, how time doth add romance to the past. But what’s wrong with the “noble savage”? It’s a stereotype, sure, but it’s a good one, isn’t it? It’s conceived in love. Well, isn’t it? What can it hurt?

And what about those team mascots? My husband’s alma mater, the University of North Dakota, steadfastly refuses to retire their “fighting Sioux” mascot. They can’t afford to. A gazillionaire alum single-handedly built them a new hockey arena only after the U agreed not to give in to NCAA pressure. So now they’re in court. Makes you wonder why the guy cares that much. He’s not “Sioux.” Not American Indian at all as far as I know. Does he have an ax to grind, or simple control issues? I grew up in Massachusetts, and I’m proud to say that UMass changed the “Redmen” to the “Minutemen” a long time ago. I doubt they lost any games or alumni contributions because of it. I’ve been thinking about this because I saw that UIllinois finally sent Chief Illiniwek to the Happy Hunting Grounds. (Yes, folks, the HHG is a fantasy of the white man’s making.) You can go to their web site and watch a video of his final dance, which is like no dancing I’ve ever seen at any powwow. The video is moving, really. You’ve got your school spirit, your nostalgia and all that. But a mascot is a pet. It’s a good luck charm.

And it’s represented by a caricature—a cartoonish logo, a person dressed in a silly costume (the one to the left is for sale online intended for use as a mascot), sometimes a hapless animal, although PETA and the ASPCA have cut down of the number of bears and wildcats getting trotted out on the playing field these days. Why American Indians? Why not Chinese or Africans or Scots? Is it really fair to create a cartoon image of a living, breathing people and trivialize their culture this way?

Mind you, I don't presume to speak for American Indians. Only for myself. And I’m just asking.