A thin layer of cigarette smoke wafted through the enormous and colorful gaming hall at the Wind Creek Casino as gamblers frantically thumped on clunky slot machine buttons and watched the wheels of chance spin -- presumably waiting for a life-changing strike of luck at the Poarch Creek Indian reservation in Atmore.
Jingles, bleeps, whooping and cheering created the sound of a chaotic jazz orchestra, acting as a personal theme tune to accompany someone’s recent win. Or more likely, a loss. There are no retirees clutching buckets of quarters anymore. Some used charge cards, but most seem content to slide crisp $20 notes into the illuminated slot.
There is something ironic and morally perplexing about watching President Andrew Jackson’s face being slid into a slot machine that will further enrich Native Americans, a group of people he hated and tried to exterminate over a period of 20 years in the early 1800s.
As a major general in the United States Army between about 1812 and 1818, Jackson controlled armies that killed thousands of Muscogee and Seminole Indians in Alabama, Florida and Georgia. As part of the Muscogee tribe’s surrender, it was forced to give the U.S. Government 23 million acres of land.
One battle that was a pivotal moment in the ongoing hostilities between the U.S. Government and Creek Indians was the Battle of Horseshoe Bend in March 1814. After killing nearly 1,000 Creek Indians and forcing them to sign the Treaty of Fort Jackson, Jackson was promoted. The victory paved the way for further military victories in New Orleans and made Jackson a hugely popular figure ahead of his run for president more than a decade later.
In 1830, the then President Jackson signed into law the Indian Removal Act, which marked the beginning of Indian tribal clearances across the Southeast. Around 60,000 in total were removed from their lands, forced to then make the long journey to new reservations far west of the Mississippi. Around 13,000 died from starvation, exposure to the elements and disease, according to historical accounts. The removal act was hurried along by population growth, the expansion of slavery and the continued cultivation of cotton.
This was known as the Trail of Tears, the name taken after a Choctaw chief, upon arriving in a bitterly cold Little Rock, Arkansas, described a “trail of tears and death.”
Discoveries of Native American architecture and artifacts at Moundville date from between 1000 AD to 1450 AD, furthering theories that Alabama was a major tribal center at that time. At the settlement’s peak, around 1,000 people lived in the enclave with a further 10,000 living in surrounding areas.
Native American culture and its history can at times be lost on those of us who weren’t raised among it or haven’t read beyond the atrocities leading up to the Trail of Tears. In more recent history, many in Alabama have become accustomed to reading headlines about the Poarch Creek Indians earning millions from its statewide gambling operation and more recently offering the state government $225 million for exclusive gambling rights.
But in a paradoxical way, it’s President Jackson’s face that reminds that Alabama’s Native American culture isn’t just money and politics, but a complicated and at times sad legacy that is rich with history. And one that continues today.
There are currently nine state-recognized tribes scattered across the state, predominately concentrated in areas to the southeast near Dothan, and Huntsville in the north. (The Native American population in Alabama is currently 22,589 – at 0.5% of the total state population, according to the most recent American Community Survey.)
The tribes are typically made up of members who refused to travel the Trail of Tears, which historians have since compared to death marches. Among those who remained were the ancestors of the MOWA band of Choctaw Indians, a small tribe based in south Washington County and North Mobile County.
“They hid in the forests,” said MOWA tribal Chief Dr. Lebaron Byrd. “Some of them hid for years at a time, avoiding troops and law enforcement. The ones who survived settled in this part of the state.”
Chief Byrd said that some of the men who stayed became trapped working in the local turpentine industry, one of the harshest working environments at that time, according to historical accounts. Chief Byrd said that if the men attempted to leave the factory, the owner would threaten to give them up to authorities.
In 1979 the MOWA, named after the first two letters of Mobile and Washington Counties, became a state recognized tribe and was given further recognition in 1991 by the U.S. Senate Committee on Indian Affairs. However, full federalization of the tribe was denied in 1997 by the Bureau of Indian Affairs. Byrd said efforts at federal recognition are continuing.
The recognition would allow the MOWA to operate some gambling on their land in the same way the Poarch Creek Indians do in Atmore. The tribe had operated slot and bingo machines at an entertainment center before the machines were confiscated by local law enforcement. A judge said that despite being recognized in Alabama, MOWA was not a federally recognized tribe and therefore the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act, which authorizes gambling on Indian reservations, does not apply to them.
The Last Native American School in Alabama
While most state students are expected to learn about the four so-called civilized tribes that once called Alabama home, students at schools where the native American population is higher are given a more extensive Native American education through Indian Education programs.
None more important than at the Calcedeaver Elementary School in Mount Vernon.
“This school is the last school in Alabama where Native Indian students are in the majority and if you believe in history and diversity, that makes us one of the most important schools in this state, and probably in neighboring states as well," said Principal George Sullivan at a recent cultural event celebrating Native American culture.
Students danced in traditional Native American regalia as parents and family watched on from the stands. While a majority of those dancing are Native American, black and white students also participated. Adult drummers in the middle of a circle led singing and drumming.
While poverty levels are reportedly in the 80 to 90 percent range, Sullivan says the community is very tightknit, and most activities revolve around the tribal offices and the elementary school. Many of the Native American families qualify for housing and welfare benefits, said Byrd, who added that the Band of Poarch Creek Indians donates its portion of Mobile County housing aid to the MOWA tribe.
After decades of decline the school was transformed in 2001 when it enrolled in Alabama’s Reading Initiative and the federal Reading First program, which provided students sophisticated reading materials. Within five years the school was ranked as one of the best in the state and was awarded status as a Blue Ribbon School by the U.S. Department of Education in 2006. By 2013, 100 percent of sixth-graders met state math standards, and 91 percent of them met state reading standards, 79 percent of those at an advanced level.
Today, approximately 90 percent of students at the pre-K to sixth-grade school, score advanced or proficient on state reading and math tests, an impressive achievement given Alabama’s low rankings nationally.
And this was all achieved in a tiny rural elementary school that used to teach grades one through 12. “That building certainly had character,” said Sullivan, who stood in the offices of the new $10.5 million building opened in early 2015.
There’s no doubt that 2020 will be another important year for Native American culture in Alabama. For some, the future will be counted in $20 bills destined for the flashing slot machines in loud smoke-filled rooms, and maybe the green felts of table games. For others, that future will counted in success in the classroom and the recognition of a difficult and winding legacy that has existed on the border of Mobile and Washington Counties for hundreds of years.
“To have our tribe recognized by the federal government would give us a chance to make a bigger difference in the future of everyone’s lives,” said Chief Byrd. “It would mean better opportunities for our students and children, and help ease the burdens of what our tribe has been through."