The Unyielding Spirit: Unpacking the Lumbee Tribe’s Quest for Identity
In the heart of North Carolina, nestled within the pine forests and tobacco fields of Robeson County, resides a people whose very existence is a testament to resilience, self-determination, and a relentless fight for who they are. They are the Lumbee Tribe, the largest state-recognized Native American tribe east of the Mississippi River, numbering over 60,000 members. Yet, despite their significant population, a vibrant culture, and a history deeply etched into the American landscape, the Lumbee remain a paradox: a federally unrecognized tribe, locked in a decades-long struggle for full acknowledgment from the U.S. government.
Their story is not one of a lost tribe, but rather a community that forged its identity in the crucible of post-colonial America, navigating the shifting sands of racial classification and asserting their indigeneity against formidable odds. To understand the Lumbee is to understand a unique chapter in American history, one where identity is not just inherited, but fiercely defended.
Roots in a Shifting Landscape
The precise origins of the Lumbee are a subject of ongoing historical and ethnographic study, often shrouded in the complexities of early colonial interactions. Unlike many federally recognized tribes, the Lumbee do not have a treaty with the U.S. government, nor do they possess a reservation. Their ancestry is believed to stem from various Siouan-speaking tribes indigenous to the region, such as the Cheraw and Saponi, who, after devastating wars and diseases in the 17th and 18th centuries, sought refuge and intermarried with remnants of other Native groups, as well as with free people of color and European settlers, particularly Scots-Irish immigrants.
This mixed heritage, rather than diminishing their Native identity, became the foundation of a distinct and cohesive community. As early as the 1700s, historical records refer to groups of self-identified "Indians" residing in what would become Robeson County, maintaining their own churches, schools, and social structures, distinct from both white and Black communities.
"We were never a conquered people, never forced onto a reservation," explains Dr. Malinda Maynor Lowery, a Lumbee historian and professor. "Instead, our ancestors gathered, intermarried, and built a new community in the swamps and uplands of southeastern North Carolina. This wasn’t assimilation; it was adaptation and the creation of a new, distinct Native identity."
A popular, though unproven, theory ties some Lumbee ancestry to the "Lost Colony" of Roanoke, the English settlers who vanished from their settlement in the late 16th century, with some historians suggesting they may have intermingled with local Native tribes. While captivating, this narrative is often seen by the Lumbee as secondary to their own documented history of self-identification and community building.
The Fight for Recognition: Names and Schools
The 19th and early 20th centuries saw the Lumbee community actively pursuing recognition and the right to educate their children within a system that largely ignored or miscategorized them. Facing the rigid racial hierarchy of the Jim Crow South, where society was strictly divided into "white" and "colored," the Lumbee insisted on their Indian identity, refusing to be relegated to the "colored" category.
This struggle culminated in a significant victory in 1887, when the North Carolina General Assembly recognized them as "Croatan Indians" and established the Croatan Normal School for the education of Indian teachers. This institution, now the University of North Carolina at Pembroke (UNCP), became a cornerstone of Lumbee identity and empowerment, providing educational opportunities that were otherwise denied.
Over the years, their state-recognized name evolved from "Croatan Indians" to "Cherokee Indians of Robeson County," and finally, in 1953, to "Lumbee Indians of North Carolina," a name derived from the Lumber River (or Lumbee River) that flows through their ancestral lands – a name chosen by the people themselves. This self-determination in naming was a powerful act of reclaiming their narrative.
The 1956 Act: A Hollow Victory
The true complexity of the Lumbee’s identity struggle became starkly apparent with the passage of the "Lumbee Act" by the U.S. Congress in 1956. On the surface, it appeared to be a federal recognition, but a closer look reveals its deceptive nature. The Act stated: "The Indians now residing in Robeson and adjoining counties of North Carolina, who are known as ‘Lumbee Indians,’ are hereby recognized as a tribe of Indians and are designated by the name of ‘Lumbee Indians of North Carolina.’"
However, the critical caveat followed: "Nothing in this Act shall make such Indians eligible for any services, benefits, or privileges provided by the United States to Indians because of their status as Indians." This unprecedented clause effectively granted recognition without the rights and benefits afforded to other federally recognized tribes, denying them access to crucial federal programs for health, education, and economic development, and preventing them from asserting sovereign rights.
"The 1956 Act was a cruel joke," states Harvey Godwin Jr., a former Lumbee Tribal Chairman. "It was recognition in name only, designed to keep us separate but unequal, to deny us the resources that other tribes used to build their nations. It was a political maneuver, not true recognition."
Defiance at Hayes Pond: A Defining Moment
The Lumbee’s determination was perhaps most vividly demonstrated on a chilly January night in 1958, at a place called Hayes Pond near Maxton, North Carolina. It was here that a Ku Klux Klan rally, organized by Grand Dragon James W. "Catfish" Cole, aimed to intimidate the Lumbee community and reassert white supremacy in the region. Cole had publicly vowed to "put the Indians in their place."
What Cole encountered, however, was not fear but furious defiance. Led by Lumbee veterans of World War II and the Korean War, hundreds of armed Lumbee men and women descended upon the Klan rally. The Lumbee vastly outnumbered the Klansmen, who had gathered around a burning cross. Gunshots rang out – largely into the air, though some hit Cole’s car – and the Klansmen scattered in disarray, leaving their robes and equipment behind. Cole himself fled into the swamps.
This event, widely publicized as the "Battle of Hayes Pond" or "Maxton Riot," was a pivotal moment. It sent a clear message: the Lumbee would not be intimidated. It solidified their unity and earned them national admiration. Life magazine famously ran a photo of Lumbee men holding a captured KKK banner, with the caption: "GO HOME, KLAN!"
"That night, we showed the world we were not going to be pushed around," recalls a Lumbee elder, reflecting on the courage of his community. "We were Lumbee, and we stood together."
The Ongoing Quest for Full Recognition
In the decades since Hayes Pond, the Lumbee have tirelessly pursued full federal recognition, consistently introducing legislation in Congress. Their case is unique: they are not a "new" tribe seeking recognition, but a large, well-documented community with a long history of self-governance and state recognition, only denied federal benefits by a specific act of Congress.
Arguments against Lumbee recognition often come from other federally recognized tribes, particularly those in Oklahoma and other parts of the country, who express concerns about the distribution of limited federal resources and potential dilution of the definition of "Indian." However, proponents argue that the Lumbee’s historical context, particularly the 1956 Act, makes their case distinct and deserving of rectification.
"For generations, we have known who we are," says Lumbee Tribal Chairman John L. Oxendine. "We have lived as Lumbee, maintained our culture, educated our children, and contributed to this nation. All we ask for is the same status and opportunities afforded to other federally recognized tribes. It’s about justice and self-determination."
Culture and Community: The Heart of Lumbee Identity
Beyond the political battles, the Lumbee maintain a vibrant cultural life that reinforces their identity. Powwows, like the annual Lumbee Homecoming, draw thousands and celebrate their heritage through dance, drumming, food, and fellowship. The Lumbee Tribe of North Carolina headquarters in Pembroke serves as a hub for community services, cultural preservation, and governance. UNCP continues to play a vital role, fostering Native American studies and serving as an educational anchor for the community.
While the Lumbee language, a Siouan dialect, is no longer spoken, efforts are underway to revive aspects of it and teach it to younger generations. The strength of their identity lies not in a lost language, but in their shared history, their tight-knit community, and their unwavering determination to preserve their way of life.
The Lumbee’s journey is far from over. The push for full federal recognition continues, with legislation frequently introduced in both the House and Senate. Their story is a powerful reminder that identity is not solely defined by external recognition, but by the enduring spirit of a people who, against all odds, have refused to be anything but who they are: the Lumbee. Their past is a testament to their fortitude, and their future, they hope, will finally bring the full acknowledgment they have so long deserved.
