BACK TO THE BLANKET

The clothing of the white man adopted by the Lakota [Sioux] had much to do with the physical welfare of the tribe, and at the Carlisle School where the change from tribal to white man's clothing was sudden and direct, the effect on the health and comfort of the children was considerable.  Our first resentment was in having our hair cut.  It has ever been the custom of Lakota men to wear long hair, and old tribal members still wear the hair in this manner.  On first hearing the rule, some of the older boys talked of resisting, but realizing the uselessness of doing so, submitted.  But for days after being shorn, we felt strange and uncomfortable.  If the argument that has been advanced is true, that the children needed delousing, then why were not girls as well as boys put through the same process?  The fact is that we were to be transformed, and short hair being the mark of gentility [nobility] with the white man, he put upon us the mark, though he still retained his own custom of keeping the hair covering on his face.

Our second resentment was against the trousers, based upon what we considered the best of hygienic reasons.  Our bodies were use to constant bathing in the sun, air, and rain, and the function of the pores of our skin, which were in reality a highly developed breathing apparatus, was at once stopped by trousers of heavy sweat-absorbing material aided by the worst of all torments -- red flannel underwear.  For the stiff collars, stiff front shirts, and derby hats no word of praise is due, and heavy, squeaky, leather boots were positive tormentors, which we endured because we thought that when we wore them we were "dressed up."  Many times we have been laughed at for our native way of dressing, but could anything we ever wore compare in the utter foolishness to the steel-ribbed corset and the huge bustle, which our girls adopted after a few years in school?

Certain small ways and observances sometimes have connection with larger and more profound ideas, and for reasons of this sort the Lakota disliked the pocket-handkerchief and found the white man's use of this toilet article very distasteful.  The Indian, essentially an outdoor person, had no use for the handkerchief; he was practically immune to colds, and like the animal, not addicted to spitting.  The white man, essentially an indoor person, was subject to colds, catarrh [wheezing], bronchitis and kindred diseases.  He was a cougher and a spitter, and his constant use of tobacco aggravated the habit.  With him the handkerchief was a toilet necessity.  So it is easy to see why the Indian considered the carrying of a handkerchief an uncleanly habit.

According to the white man, the Indian choosing to, return to his tribal manners and dress "goes back to the blanket”. True, but "going back to the blanket" is the factor that saved him from, or at least stayed, his final destruction.  Had the Indian been as completely subdued in spirit as he was in body he would have perished within the century of his subjection.  But is it the unquenchable spirit that saved him -- his clinging to Indian ways, Indian thought, and tradition that has kept him and is keeping him today.  The white man's ways were not his ways and many of the things that he has tried to adopt have proven disastrous and to his utter shame.  Could the Indian have forestalled the flattery and deceit of his European subjector and retained his native truth and honesty; could he have shunned whiskey and disease and remained the paragon of health and strength he was, he might today be a recognized a man instead of a hostage on a reservation.  But many an Indian has accompanied his own personal salvation by "going back to the blanket."  The Indian blanket, or buffalo robe, a true American garment, and worn with the significance of language, covered beneath it, in the prototype [model] of the American Indian, one of the bravest attempts ever made by man on this continent to rise to the heights of true humanity.

To clothe a man falsely is only to distress his spirit and to make him incongruous and ridiculous, and my entreaty to the American Indian is to retain his tribal dress.

Luther Standing Bear telling about his experiences at the Carlisle School his autobiography, Land of the Spotted Eagle (1933), pp. 189-91.