When most people think of Native American Jews, they think of Mel Brooks poking fun at the idea Native Americans as Lost Israelites in Blazing Saddles.
People don’t imagine astronauts (like Jessica Meir). Or musicians (like Andrew Winters, the guy who got Blue Öyster Cult together). Or actors (like Scott Glenn). Or Washington State Supreme Court Justices (like Raquel Montoya-Lewis). Or writers (like my friend Rebecca Klempner).
To most people, the entire idea of a Native American Jew is entirely unreal. A fanciful notion. A contradiction. It is as if we do not exist.
Yet, as I just illustrated, we very much exist. We have existed for a long time (Solomon Bibo married a woman from the Acoma Pueblo, and that isn’t likely the first example).
Truth be told, people don’t even consider the possibility of us. Like Native Americans in general, people forget we exist, and, when brought up, it’s always followed by someone bringing up a fantastic tale of Native blood in their family with no real proof (as I call it, the “Cherokee” great-grandma story). And, usually, from white-looking people.
That isn’t to say we cannot look white. Some of us do. Some of us also look black. Or Asian. Or stereotypically Latinx. Or Middle Eastern. Or Indian.
And some people who have met Native American Jews think we are all alike. But we aren’t. Some of us are from Southeastern Tribes (Cherokee, Creek, Choctaw, Shawnee, or Powhatan, usually), and I fall into this category: Shawnee, Powhatan, Pamunkey, Potawomeck, Cherokee, and Lumbee. Some of us are from Northeastern Tribes (I know of children from a Seneca-Ashkenazi marriage), and I myself have Mohawk, Mohegan, Narrangasset, Pequot, Montauk, and Wangunk in my family tree.
Yes. Twelve Tribes. A strange coincidence.
But I know others who are Navajo. Or Arapaho. Or Apache. Or Comanche. Or Blackfoot. I even know someone who is Guatemalan Mayan and Jewish.
There isn’t a single Native Jewish ethnicity or experience. And not all of us are Ashkenazi either. Some of us are (like me), but some of us are Sephardic (also me). Or Maghrebi (still me). Or Italkim (also still me). Or Romanoite (yes, still me). And, some are converts. Or weren’t raised Jewish but still have the ancestral connection.
I wasn’t raised Jewish. But I have the roots.
But we remain invisible. And that might be the most hurtful thing. It seems often that no one cares about who we are or about our experiences and hardships. Or they ask how in the world we could exist.
Same way that everyone else does.
And we Jews and we Natives have that kind of deep connection, our histories of persecution, as a method for strong empathy to form. Maybe that is why at least 1-2% of my local Jewish population is Native American. We can understand one another all too well.