March Hownikan Article
In February, the City of Maumee, hosted a screening of Sugarcane, a film that examines the abuse and lasting trauma caused by Indian boarding schools. I attended expecting to watch the film as a local resident, but through a series of conversations, I was asked to participate in a post-screening discussion and share perspective as a Potawatomi citizen.
The film is difficult to watch. Like many stories shared by our elders, it reveals painful truths - forced separation, abuse, and efforts to strip Indigenous children of their identity. While much of the public conversation around boarding schools focuses on physical and emotional harm, I spoke about another lasting impact that is often overlooked: the loss of language.
Language carries more than words. It holds a worldview, values, humor, and identity. Boarding schools understood this, which is why children were punished for speaking their languages and given new names. Today, across all Potawatomi communities, less than a handful of first-language speakers remain. That reality is not accidental, and it is the direct result of historical policy.
I shared how these policies shaped my family. With each generation, removals, boarding schools, and economic hardship caused connections to language and community to weaken. Reclaiming our language later in life, with the help of elders and mentors, most especially that of my good friend Thomas Loftis, helped me to live more intentionally and rebuild a relationship with something greater than myself.
What struck me most during the event was how little many attendees knew - not just about boarding schools, but about our continued presence as Native people today. Our history is often overshadowed by monuments and place names tied to colonization, while Indigenous stories remain absent. It was a reminder of the work we all share in educating our neighbors.
I shared that despite centuries of loss and hardship, our people continue to come together - to speak our language, to share our stories, and to restore what was nearly erased. Every powwow dance, every language class, every bead sewn into regalia, and every prayer lifted to the Creator is more than tradition; it is survival, resilience, and healing.
Speaking of coming together in community, I had a conversation with District 1 tribal citizen Tyler Spencer, who is participating in the Mdamen Program. Mdamen is a nine-week virtual program designed to help Tribal citizens connect and explore their heritage. Tyler shared how impactful the experience has been and how eager he is to build relationships with other Potawatomi in his area.
Our conversation turned to the challenge of connection across a district that spans 16 states, from Missouri to Maine. Distance can make it difficult to feel informed or connected, and no single meeting or location can reach everyone.
Community shows up in many ways - from the Potawatomi Gathering in Crandon this summer, to February’s virtual finger weaving with Anna Johnson, to locally organized gatherings like Kevin Roberts’ event at the Illinois State Museum.
Community is not built by elected officials alone; it grows through the actions of individuals. Small gatherings, shared meals, cultural teachings, and local meetups matter deeply. If you are interested in hosting something in your area, I want to help support and connect you with others.
Please visit cpndistrict1.com and sign up for the newsletter. I can only send updates to those who request them, and just 127 citizens are signed up. You can also visit cpndistrict1.com/events for the most up-to-date information on virtual and in-person gatherings.
My goal is for District 1 citizens to feel informed, connected, and supported. It is truly an honor to serve you.
