I am saddened by the death of Vine Deloria Jr. This sadness is compounded by the fact that outside of the indigenous communities, institutions, and nations of North America, too few Americans really know what Deloria accomplished. Consequently, the general public cannot really appreciate what his passing represents, and this is a tragedy. On November 13, 2005 I lost a friend and mentor, but the world lost one of the most important voices of the twentieth century.
Deloria never called attention to himself—it was unnecessary. His words and ideas demanded the attention of anyone who came into contact with his intellectual energy, virtuosity, and activism. Through five decades, Deloria articulated through his twenty-some books and teaching the importance of tribal knowledge—wisdom, really. He called attention to American Indian ways of knowing and the knowledge produced not as museum or historical artifact, but as practical knowledge conducive to living well in this world.
Deloria encouraged several generations of indigenous scholars to take seriously their tribal traditions and reject the still prevailing notion that success meant complete adoption of the culture of the dominant non-Native society of the United States. It would be impossible to list all the areas of American Indian affairs Deloria influenced, but a short list would include the American Indian Policy Review Commission (1975–77), the American Indian Religious Freedom Act (1978), the Indian Self-Governance Act (1988), and the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (1990).
So why in this land called the United States of America is one of the most important intellects and social justice activists of the last century, known and respected so widely among indigenous peoples of North America, unrecognized—to a shameful extent—by the larger society? Think about it—it is a sign of how much popular stereotypes and thinking about the people of the first nations of America still needs to change. Rosa Parks received the nationwide attention her life and death deserved; the absence of a similar response for Deloria’s life and death is telling. Almost forty years after Deloria captured the attention of the general public with his wit and keen insights in the now classic "Custer Died For Your Sins" and his follow-up work "We Talk, You Listen," it appears far too few listened or are listening.
Throughout his life’s work, he never stopped trying to engage the dominant institutions of the United States in an honest dialogue and discussion about the important issues of life on this planet and the universe. Deloria read widely and wrote across academic disciplines. At best, this earned him a reputation as a “renaissance man,” and at worst, a dismissal because he was not an academic specialist. Both evaluations miss the distinguishing feature that indigenous people recognized in Deloria’s work: he was an indigenous thinker, an indigenous intellectual.
I guess American Indians and Alaska Natives in the mind’s eye of most Americans are not supposed to be intellectuals. If we diverge from either the “noble savage” script or, conversely, the despondent dependent colonial victim motif, many Americans simply turn the channel or put the book down.
Today, leaders throughout the institutions of modern societies desperately need ideas about ways to solve pressing problems. I suggest one way to honor Vine Deloria Jr. is to listen seriously to what indigenous people in the United States and around the world have to say: we talk, you listen. It’s a good time to ask a question: do people in modern societies, especially the United States, have the spirit and reason to do so?