For decades, white staff members at summer camps and outdoor programs have inappropriately utilized American Indian ceremonies, imagery, names, and symbols to enhance their programs. It is time to move on from these antiquated practices.

Earlier this summer, I received a text message from Taylor, a recent graduate of the Northland College Outdoor Education program where I taught for the past several years. Taylor expressed concerns about the use of American Indian ceremonies, imagery, names, and symbols by white program leaders at the camp where she was recently hired. She asked me for constructive ways to address her concerns in order to promote positive change in the organization, while also trying to avoid putting herself at odds with her new supervisors. As we had previously discussed in classes, Taylor believes that the appropriation of American Indian culture by summer camps is an antiquated and racist practice, the elimination of which is long overdue. I will share with you, dear reader, the advice I gave Taylor, but first I’d like to provide some context regarding the issue of cultural appropriation in outdoor education.
Historically, there has been a tendency by summer camps and outdoor programs to utilize American Indian symbols, stories, and ceremonies in attempts to help participants cultivate a deeper connection to the natural world (Quinn & Smith, 1992) and to build a sense of ritual and belonging into program curricula. Notably, such program elements are most often created and facilitated by white staff members. This is problematic, as it often results in the essentialized portrayal of indigenous cultures and unfounded appropriation of indigenous cultural practices. For example, Lowan (2009) explains that summer camps and adventure programs often incorporate vision quests, sweat lodges, fasts, council fires, and giving “Indian” names to participant as rites of passage. The intent of these practices is to deepen participants’ sense of place, teach about historic land-based cultural practices, and cultivate a sense of belonging to the camp itself. However, as an unintended consequence, Hamilton (2004), Lowan (2009), and Oles (1995) assert that such practices desecrate sacred objects and rituals while also perpetuating antiquated and racist conceptions of indigenous cultures and people.
In a similar vein, programs often present cultural history lessons about indigenous people, which often include inaccurate historical and cultural references, and lack present-day contextualization of indigenous people and cultures. In turn, participants often walk away with a perception that indigenous communities are somehow frozen in time in some state of primitive sociocultural existence, rather than an understanding of the vibrant, present-day state of indigenous communities. Hamilton (2004) challenges outdoor educators that if teaching participants about indigenous cultures is truly necessary in their programs, they must find ways of doing so that address the historical and contemporary realities of colonialism. Furthermore, Lowan (2009) suggests that practitioners work to develop ideas of a land ethic that are rooted in histories and practices that are culturally relevant to participants, rather than coopting indigenous stories and traditions. So the question emerges, how do we do that?
One such example of a contemporary non-indigenous land ethic is found in Aldo Leopold’s (1947) seminal work A Sand County Almanac. Leopold conceptualizes a land ethic, which offers a pragmatic relational approach to connecting with nature, in which the biotic community is inextricably linked to the human community. Such a relationship is built through observing, studying, understanding, and ultimately caring for the natural world. By viewing the natural world as an inextricable partner of the human community wherein one cares for humanity, one must also care for the natural world. Leopold’s work challenges the notion of land as a commodity or resource, which is prevalent in modern society. In many ways, Leopold’s work embodies the ideology and teaching of numerous indigenous cultures, but does so with appropriate and accurate historical attribution, rather than co-opted language and practices.
So back to Taylor’s predicament. Here’s what I suggested, and I hope you, the reader, find it useful as well. Start with someone with whom you already have a connection. If there’s someone you are close to or comfortable with who has been there a while, see if the issue has ever been addressed. Before asserting your perspective to forcefully, try and get a sense for the landscape of the issue at your camp, and where camp leadership stands in relation to it. Are they completely oblivious that it is even problematic? Has it been brought up before and dismissed? Have there been some changes over the years and perhaps it is incrementally better than it used to be? Chances are there’s a lot of “legacy” attached to those practices. Many camps that were founded early- to mid-20th Century were built appropriated themes and practices. It is likely that one or more people currently leading the organization covet those traditions and have protected them for a long time. Similar to the issue of American Indian sports mascots, people love the identity and sense of belonging that goes with tradition. Even more than that, they find it hard to reconcile that something they cherish is utterly racist.
As you gain an understanding of the history and context of the issue in your program, listen with empathy. As inappropriate as the camp traditions may be, people need to be heard and validated on some level before critiquing their work. Nobody likes to be called a racist, so focus on the behaviors that are problematic, rather than the people exhibiting those behaviors. YouTube sensation Jay Smooth has a great video about this, entitled How to Tell Someone They Sound Racist. He describes strategies for specifically calling out problematic actions without completely alienating people. Also, it may help to reflect on a time when you did or said something that reinforced an oppressive ideology. Remember the pain and awkwardness you felt when realizing the impact of your words or actions, and consider how you worked through that to enact change in yourself. If asked, offer some words of wisdom regarding what helped you in that process.
Perhaps most importantly, be prepared to share some of your own ideas as to how the camp might shift away from the use of American Indian ceremonies, imagery, names, and symbols, but still accomplish the same ends, such as cultivating a deeper connection to the natural world or building a sense of community and tradition within the camp. Perhaps it is as simple as a name change, such as having a “community fire” instead of a “council fire” or giving people “nicknames” instead of “Indian names” or “earth names.” It may take some deeper institutional transformation, such as changing branding and imagery, rethinking curriculum themes, and so forth, but start with the low-hanging fruit.
And most of all, be authentically you. If you are asked to participate in something with which you are uncomfortable, simply explain your personal view and ask if you can be excused from it. This may open the door for further conversations about cultural appropriation in your program. Or if you are not allowed to sit out, it may send a clear message that the issue is not up for negotiation. Ultimately, you need to establish your ethical boundaries and decide how far you are willing to push for change or bend to assimilate. Regardless, I applaud you (Taylor and reader), for recognizing the problematic nature of cultural appropriation in camps and outdoor programs, and for striving to find remedies for this all too pervasive issue.
References
Hamilton, T. (March 07, 2004). The Representation and Appropriation of Indigenous Cultures at Ontario Summer Camps. Pathways: the Ontario Journal of Outdoor Education, 15, 1, 9-15.
Leopold, A., & Schwartz, C. W. (1978). A Sand County almanac: With other essays on conservation from Round River. New York: Ballantine Books.
Lowan, G. (January 01, 2009). Exploring Place from an Aboriginal Perspective: Considerations for Outdoor and Environmental Education. Canadian Journal of Environmental Education, 14, 1, 42-58.
Oles, G. W. (1992). “Borrowing” activities from another culture: A Native American’s perspective.
Quinn, W. J., & Smith, T. E. (1992). The Sweat Lodge Ceremony in Challenge: Adventure Programming. Washington, D.C.: Distributed by ERIC Clearinghouse.
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