Skip to main content
Access keys NCBI Homepage MyNCBI Homepage Main Content Main Navigation
Food Foodways. Author manuscript; available in PMC 2023 Feb 24.
Published in final edited form as:
Food Foodways. 2023; 31(1): 43–65.
Published online 2023 Feb 2. doi: 10.1080/07409710.2023.2172795
PMCID: PMC9956020
NIHMSID: NIHMS1871151
PMID: 36843960

“I don’t remember any of us … having diabetes or cancer”: How historical oppression undermines indigenous foodways, health, and wellness

Catherine E. McKinleya and Valarie Blue Bird Jerniganb
Author information Copyright and License information PMC Disclaimer

Abstract

Past and present structures of settler colonial historical oppression aimed to erase and replace Indigenous peoples have profoundly disrupted U.S. Indigenous foodways. The purpose of this article is to use the Indigenous Framework of Historical Oppression, Resilience, and Transcendence (FHORT) to understand U.S. Indigenous peoples’ experiences and perceptions of how (a) foodways have changed within the context of settler colonial historical oppression and (b) these changes have affected wellness and cultures of Indigenous peoples. Critical ethnographic analysis focused on data from 31 interviews with participants from a rural Southeast reservation and a Northwest urban context. Results revealed participants’ descriptions of changing foodways situated in a system of historical oppression, with themes including (a) historical oppression and changing values and foodway practices; (b) settler colonial governmental programs interrupting foodways through commodities and rations; and (c) changing foodway practices: from homegrown and homemade to fast food and premade. Participants described the aftermath of settler colonial governmental policies and programs undermined foodways, connectedness, cultural knowledge, family and interpersonal relationships, ceremonies, and outdoor activities—all of which promote health and wellness. To redress historical oppression, including settler colonial governmental policies, decolonized decision-making, foodways, and Indigenous food sovereignty are recommended as approaches to inform policy and programming that affirms Indigenous values and worldviews.

Keywords: Indigenous, Native American, American Indian, foodways, food insecurity, food sovereignty, chronic health, diet, diabetes

Introduction

The purpose of this article was to use the Indigenous framework of historical oppression, resilience, and transcendence (FHORT) to understand U.S. Indigenous peoples’ experiences and perceptions of (a) how foodways have changed within the context of settler colonial historical oppression and (b) how these changes are related to wellness and cultures of Indigenous peoples (Burnette and Figley 2017, 40). The concept of historical oppression is central to the FHORT, which frames this article (Burnette and Figley 2017, 40). Wolfe (2006, 388) argued, “settler colonizers come to stay: invasion is a structure not an event”. Historical oppression is inclusive of intergenerational and historical trauma (Gadhoke and Brenton 2017, 206); yet it is distinct by being broader and centering on its chronic and contemporary settler colonial versions or expressions (Burnette and Figley 2017, 40).

According to the FHORT, liberation is gained through understanding and addressing oppression, which occurs through praxis, reflective thought that ignites social action and decolonization from the settler colonial mindset (Burnette and Figley 2017, 40). According to McKinley (2023, 26) “Decolonization from the settler colonial mindset has to do with undoing the values, practices, and beliefs imposed by settler colonial heteropatriarchal colonization”. This decolonizing process involves dismantling (hetero) patriarchal and colonial superiority that privileges Western European approaches and thought (Arvin, Tuck, and Morrill 2013, 13; Martens et al. 2016, 12; McKinley 2023, 26; Wilson 2008, 70), redressing psychosocial inequities. Such understanding is required to fuel collective social action, or praxis (Hartmann et al. 2019, 6).

Hartmann et al. (2019, 6) argued that a predominant focalized view on historical trauma, though helpful, may inadvertently reduce structural violence to its “psychological consequences” or a “clinical condition” (Hartmann et al. 2019, 6). The negation of its structural, contemporary, and continued forms (which the concept of historical oppression prioritizes) may personalize systemic oppression and relegate it as a “past only” phenomenon—replicating settler colonial narratives of erasure (Hartmann et al. 2019, 6; McKinley et al. 2020, 288; Wolfe 2006, 388).

The FHORT centers understanding of “how oppression tends to be perpetuated over time” and how “losses and oppression are not only ‘historical’ in nature but have persisted into present times” (McKinley et al. 2020, 288). Historical oppression began with settler colonization and has continued through ever-evolving tactics of oppression that are imposed, internalized, and reproduced through structural oppression, including classism, racism, sexism, and colonization (Burnette and Figley 2017, 40). The FHORT and concept of historical oppression were developed through the integration of Indigenous methods and epistemologies (Burnette and Figley 2017, 37–44), including respect, reciprocity, and responsibility (Martens et al. 2016; Wilson 2008, p. 77). This development spanned more than a decade of community-based research with Indigenous peoples to facilitate resilience and transcendence and to “elucidate how social problems may continue after a context of historical oppression has been imposed, linking structural causes to social and health disparities” (McKinley et al. 2020, 288).

The FHORT integrates a critical understanding of how patriarchal colonization perpetuates sociostructural inequities (Burnette and Figley 2017, 37–44). The intersectional and ecological FHORT framework examines risk and protective factors across structural (e.g., power, colonization, gender, politics, and race), relational, contextual, and individual levels to see how they give rise to strength and resilience (Burnette and Figley 2017, 39). Risks worsen problems whereas protective factors buffer against blows and challenges (Burnette and Figley 2017, 39). For example, nutritional colonialism is a structural risk factor that is a particular form of settler colonial historical oppression. Resilience and transcendence are drawn from Indigenous values of balance and harmony with the environment across time and circumstances (Lindholm 2019, 155–170); this balance fosters wellness, the holistic sense of ecological, spiritual, mental, physical, and social well-being (Burnette and Figley 2017, 39).

Historical oppression and foodways

Past and present structures of settler colonial historical oppression have profoundly disrupted U.S. Indigenous foodways. These structures persistently undermine, assimilate, and homogenize U.S. Indigenous1 foodways into “American values and ideals” (Gadhoke and Brenton 2017, 211). Centuries of such practices cumulatively undermine Indigenous food sovereignty, wellness, and health (Burnette and Figley 2017, 37; Matties 2016, 3). Social and health disparities are connected to settler colonial historical oppression—the chronic, pervasive, and intergenerational experiences of historical trauma and oppression that, over time, may be normalized and internalized into the daily lives of individuals, families, communities, and society (McKinley et al. 2020, 288).

According to Burnett, Hay, and Chambers (2016, 2), past and present governmental programs have imposed hunger, malnutrition, and food insecurity to erase and replace Indigenous peoples and cultures—all of which function to enable settler-colonial occupation of Indigenous territories (Burnett, Hay, and Chambers 2016, 2; Wolfe, 1999, 388). Federal policies have undermined tribal sovereignty, disrupted growing and harvesting practices, altered the diets of Indigenous peoples, and contributed to widespread food insecurity at rates 3–4 times those of non-Indigenous peoples (Gurney et al. 2015, 681; Hoover and Mihesuah 2019, 6–9; Jernigan et al. 2017, 444). Two such policies include (a) the Removal Act (1831), which began with the Choctaw removal to the West on an over 500-mile journey on the Trail of Tears; and (b) the Indian Appropriations Act (1850), which restricted tribal members to reservations (Howard University School of Law 2018; National Library of Medicine 2022). The removal of Indigenous peoples to reservations and urban areas and the introduction of European foods and rations disconnected Indigenous peoples from their land, foods, cultural knowledge, and concomitant health (Gurney et al. 2015, 286; Mihesuah 2019, 96).

The continued effect of historical oppression from settler colonization is associated with contemporary rates of diet-related diseases exceeding those of other populations (Jernigan et al. 2010, 677–678; Mihesuah and Hoover 2019, 6). For example, food insecurity has doubled Indigenous peoples’ risk for chronic health conditions, such as type 2 diabetes and obesity and exacerbated cardiovascular disease and other chronic health conditions (Jernigan et al. 2017, 441). Indigenous peoples are 3 times more likely to die from type 2 diabetes, 7 times more likely to die from alcohol misuse, and almost 5 times more likely to die from liver disease than non-Indigenous peoples (Indian Health Service 2019).

According to Wolfe (2006, 388), “Settler colonialism destroys to replace.” Given that foodways are integral to culture, this rapid diet transition has been depicted as cultural genocide (Lindholm 2019, 156). Burnett, Hay, and Chambers (2016, 1) argued settler colonialism has “manufactured” food insecurity, a lack of access to culturally appropriate, safe, and healthy foods (Jernigan et al. 2017, 441) as a means of hegemonic political control (Gadhoke and Brenton 2017, 206). The “conversion” (Gadhoke and Brenton 2017, 208) of Indigenous foodways in the process of assimilative and prescriptive settler colonial historical oppression has imposed and perpetuated sociopolitical health inequities (Burnette and Figley 2017, 37; Matties 2016, 3).

Lindholm (2019, 170) defined nutritional colonialism as the restriction of subsistence and physical activity, cultural suppression, impairment of food sovereignty and food security, imposed dependence on governmental food sources, and disrupted value systems around foodways that have led to chronic health conditions. Food sovereignty entails the rights of peoples to self-determine strategies and policies to produce, distribute, and consume foods sustainably in culturally and contextually relevant ways (Ruelle and Kassam 2013, 316), which depends on understanding the cultural meaning, values, traditions, and activities around food (Peres 2017, 6). This article focuses on filling a gap in understanding of Indigenous peoples foodways and how they relate to experiences of settler colonial forms of historical oppression as structural risks factor for impaired foodways and health (Burnette and Figley 2017, 39; Gadhoke and Brenton 2017, 213).

Methodology

This research integrated Indigenous approaches and epistemologies through the culturally grounded and ethical research strategies developed in a toolkit with Indigenous peoples (Burnette et al. 2014, 11–12; McKinley et al. 2019, 82–83). Carspecken’s (1996) critical ethnographic methodology was integrated with the aforementioned toolkit (Burnette et al. 2014, 11–12; McKinley et al. 2019, 82–83) through the use of storytelling, enabling a tribal perspective, with relationality, reciprocity, respect, and engagement in long-term commitments (Braun et al. 2014, 120; Martens et al. 2016, 22; Wilson 2008, 77). Oral histories are culturally congruent ways of acknowledging the importance of lived experiences among Indigenous peoples according to Indigenous epistemologies, recognizing an interdependence among all living and non-living things, plants, land, food, and health (Martens et al. 2016, 22).

Approached through the Indigenous FHORT, this research centered Indigenous research approaches and followed Indigenous foodway research recommendations by using a storytelling approach to respectfully honor Indigenous people’s experiences and stories as a guide that allows “for connections to emerge organically, much as they would in nature” (Martens et al. 2016, 19). This study integrates Indigenous research approaches (Martens et al. 2016, 19) and the big Q qualitative methodology, focusing on broad, iterative, and emergent research questions, which were responsive to data (Kidder and Fine 1987).

Themes emerged from 31 ethnographic interviews with participants from a reservation in a rural Southeast (SE) context and a Northwest (NW) urban context to understand how historical oppression has affected Indigenous foodways. These interviews inform the foodways portion of a program to promote health, wellness, and resilience among Indigenous families, while preventing substance abuse and violence (Burnette et al. 2014, 11–12; McKinley et al. 2019, 82–83).

Setting

The tribal names and communities remain confidential to adhere to tribal agreements and strategies in the toolkit for ethical and culturally relevant research; community anonymity avoids inadvertent harm through misinterpretations or misuse of sensitive results and findings (Burnette et al. 2014, 11–12; McKinley et al. 2019, 82–83). The SE community included a federally recognized tribe with its own educational, healthcare, social, family, criminal, mental health, land management, and law enforcement systems in the Jim Crow Deep South, which has been marked by significant discrimination. Most of the older tribal members worked as sharecroppers until work opportunities shifted due to greater industrialization and economic development in the 1960s and 1970s. The NW community was an urban region with participants recruited from an urban healthcare facility that provided services to local tribal members in the region. The NW sample included Indigenous peoples from seven tribal nations.

Data collection

Researchers obtained university institutional review board (IRB) and tribal council approvals prior to data collection. Inclusion criteria were (a) Indigenous or non-Indigenous peoples with local foodway knowledge; and (b) adults aged 18 years of age and older. Participants received $50 on a Clincard (i.e., a card that can be used for debit or credit) for their time and participation. Recruitment methods included collaborating with tribal cultural insiders and research assistants to identify participants familiar with past and present Indigenous foodways; such efforts included posting fliers online and in agencies, word of mouth, and snowball sampling (Burnette et al. 2014, 11–12; McKinley et al. 2019, 82–83). Participants voluntarily self-selected into the study by responding to posted fliers or to tribal cultural insiders sharing information. Data were deidentified for reporting purposes, and researchers followed ethical procedures outlined in the IRB study protocol. Participants could choose to be interviewed by a tribal or nontribal interviewer (or both).

Interviewers recorded interviews with 31 participants from December 2018 to January 2019 at local, private conference rooms or locations preferred by participants. This sample included 23 female and eight male participants, with 16 SE participants and 15 NW participants. Because the study aimed to understand how foodways have changed over time and to honor elders’ perceptions (Braun et al. 2014; 120), participant ages ranged from 50–78 years, with an average age of approximately 62 years old. Each participant’s age has been reported with respective quotes to provide context for the reader. Most participants were raised during the late 1950s to the late 1970s and described receiving food from federal commodity programs. In addition, tribal cultural insiders recommended four younger participants (ages 30–46) due to their knowledge of Indigenous foodways.

Researchers used critical ethnographic life history interviews to examine how foodways have changed from past to present (see Appendix 1 for complete interview guide). Life histories included a storytelling approach, which has been recommended as a culturally congruent approach for work with Indigenous peoples (Braun et al. 2014, 120; Carspecken 1996). The guide was based on the research questions and centered on the ways in which health, wellness, and foodways had changed from past to present. Because interviews were open ended, relevant interview questions included: “What do you know about how tribal community members ate in the old days/ways? What memories or stories have you been told of eating practices? How does they compare with how people eat today?”

Data analysis

The research team of analysts consisted of research assistants and tribal community members who had been immersed in 3–12 years of preliminary research with the same tribes (Burnette et al. 2014, 11–12; McKinley et al. 2019, 82–83). The team analyzed the professionally transcribed and verbatim interviews using NVivo qualitative data analysis software (used to derive all results). The team checked transcripts for accuracy by reading and listening to interviews 2–3 times before conducting thematic analysis. Analysts identified themes emerging in the data, with multiple analysts arriving at final themes through consensus and dialogue during biweekly meetings.

Members of the focal tribes and an expert with a scholarly background in Indigenous foodways reviewed interpretations and results and checked final themes for culturally congruent and accurate interpretations of data. After their review and approval, results were shared with participants, which were then affirmed by the 80% who could be reached. The first author shared summative themes, descriptions, and individual transcripts with each participant, who was given the opportunity to comment, change, or add to results multiple times before the authors disseminated results to tribal councils and relevant community partners and stakeholders. Although quotes have been shortened for publication and reporting purposes (as indicated by ellipses … and ellipses with an additional period to indicate the end of a sentence before ellipses), these quotes have not been edited for grammar so as to retain the original meaning. Participants were identified with pseudonyms for confidentiality.

Results: How historical oppression has undermined wellness and health

This section presents these themes: (a) historical oppression (participants expressed the definition and key tenets of historical oppression, not necessarily the specific word, “historical oppression”) and changing values and foodway practices; (b) settler colonial governmental programs interrupting foodways through commodities and rations; and (c) changing foodway practices from homegrown and homemade to fast food and premade. Before illustrating participant quotes, the historical context of relevant federal policies and programs is provided.

Despite participants residing in urban and rural areas cross-nationally, systemic settler colonial governmental policies and programs related to reservations, rations, and commodities imposed consistent patterns of foodway disruption. Forced relocation and restriction of U.S. Indigenous peoples to reservations caused starvation on the journey west and disrupted Indigenous peoples’ abilities to hunt, fish, grow, and gather food from increasingly limited land bases (Chino, Haff, and Dodge Francis 2009, 279–283; Howard University School of Law 2018; National Library of Medicine 2022; Vantrease 2013, 55–58). Due to imposed hunger and starvation, the U.S. government distributed food rations as stipulated by land treaties to account for lost hunting, fishing, and farmland (Hoover and Mihesuah 2019, 5–6). Rations for Indigenous peoples were made of culturally unfamiliar foods, including white flour, beef, bacon, sugar, salt, and coffee (Gadhoke and Brenton 2017, 208; Hoover and Mihesuah 2019, 6). Although specific foods varied by region and tribe, Indigenous foods were primarily composed of vegetables, fruits, and game meats instead of the sugary, fatty, and starchy foods they relied upon through governmental programs. “Rations” shifted to “commodity foods” in the 1950s (Chino, Haff, and Dodge Francis 2009, 279–283; Finegold et al., 2005, 1–6; Vantrease 2013, 55).

At the time of “termination” or Federal relocation programs of the 1950s, where many Indigenous peoples were moved to urban centers with little support, malnutrition and hunger were widespread problems (Gurney et al. 2015, 681–684). Since then, commodities have been distributed through the U.S. Government’s Food Distribution Program on Indian Reservations, which has provided food free of charge to low-income, Indigenous families (Chino, Haff, and Dodge Francis 2009, 279–283; Finegold et al., 2005, 1–6; Mihesuah 2019, 96; Vantrease 2013, 55).

Commodities have been disseminated to approximately 85% of Indigenous peoples on reservations and tend to be less healthy than and culturally dissimilar to traditional diets (Gurney et al. 2015, 681–684). Commodities replaced cultural and localized foods (Gadhoke and Brenton 2017, 213); cross-nationally, commodities consisted primarily of canned meats, beans, vegetables, and fruits; soaps, bottled juices, cereal, pasta, flour, processed cheese, powdered egg mix, rice, shelf-stable milk, buttery spread, and vegetable oil (Vantrease 2013, 55–69). By the 1960s, more than half of people living on reservations received such foods, including canned and packaged foods high in fat, sugar, and sodium (Gurney et al. 2015, 681–684; Mihesuah and Hoover 2019, 6). Because tribes adopted European foods imposed in colonization, some foods Indigenous peoples have considered “traditional” (e.g., fry bread) are heavy on sugar, white flour, cheese, and butter (Gadhoke and Brenton 2017, 213; Mihesuah 2019, 98).

Context of historical oppression and changing values and foodway practices

Participants spoke about the delegitimization of Indigenous forms of knowledge and lifeways. Candice, a 57-year-old NW Indigenous healer, explained how focalized views of intergenerational historical trauma could reframe structural oppression in reductionistic terms as a psychological phenomenon or a clinical condition (Hartman et al., 2019, 6):

The thing is, we have problems in this world, you know, and we have problems specific to racism. … In the Western system of medicine and wellness, it’s people trying to force that on, you know, “you’re the problem.” … They’re not looking at intergenerational trauma. … They’re just saying … “You’re a low-life” … like it’s your personal problem, without actually looking at the bigger picture. But you can’t solve that problem, with you personally. … It’s a systemic thing. It’s an invisible prejudice, like internalized racism and internalized prejudice that we’ve learned. … Part of that is we also have to stop doing that to ourselves because most of us, or many of us, have been forced into the Western … system and it’s hammered and shoved down your throat constantly. That, “the Western way is the good way, the only way, the right way.”

The imposition of settler colonial assimilation and erasure of cultural practices through dysrupting foodways has been described as intentional and has become an internalized practice (Gadhoke and Brenton 2017, 206). Candice described an integrative, incremental, and decolonized perspective of becoming liberated from focalized and personalized perspectives that negated the context of historical oppression, which included interconnections of ceremony, foodways, and health (Martens et al. 2016, 19):

To reverse that [assimilation into the Western] it takes a lot of things. … It takes the heart, and it takes the return to the traditional ways of knowing and being, including ceremony … traditional foods … which were much more healthful. … It’s an intergenerational healing, it’s not going to happen in 5 seconds because it’s taken … hundreds of years … for … the damage to be done.

This holistic perspective included living in harmony with the seasons: “Every … Indigenous nation, we’re in harmony with our climate, so it would not be in harmony to have foods that are going to spoil tomorrow.” However, she reflected on how the imposition of colonial foods undermined Indigenous foodways and how this related to the settler colonial logic of elimination for the purpose of land acquisition:

When I was growing up as a child, [foodways] had been impacted by … colonization. … Because so much food is fried, and that’s a colonial input. … We had rice, which is also a colonial input, because that doesn’t grow there naturally. So, that whole system has been changed by, because of the U.S. did a land grab there. … So, much of the land was taken out of production.

Other participants connected the prevalence of unhealthy fried foods and how these foods have been integrated and considered “traditional” to colonialism Margaret, a 65-year-old SE woman, explained:

Overall is, [people eat] fried foods. And that’s, they consider that Southern cooking. … But even then, some of the “traditional foods” that they serve at gatherings … are full of … lard. … Even with the cooking oil … that contributes to the fat content.

Margaret explained how sharing meals and foods was an important way tribal members fostered community and connection, but social practices of overeating and unhealthy foods undermined the overall benefit of these gatherings. She described a “lack of access to healthy foods. Then, the social organization of the communities … tend to be like places of overeating because of the style and the foods that are cooked.”

Natasha, a 35-year-old female SE participant, added that people ate in moderation, historically. She said:

People didn’t take more than what they needed. … Now, you might be getting more, [but] nutritionally you’re getting less. … You’re getting more calories … so it’s filling you up, but it’s not lasting. … What’s always available is [unhealthy food]. … That’s definitely a big deterrent, because sometimes it [healthy food] is more expensive.

Kenneth, a 50-year-old SE participant, explained how land dispossession and tribal reservations not only limited access to affordable and healthy foods, but also caused changes in Indigenous eating patterns and foodway values—from subsistence to compelling dependence on government for food. Kenneth explained interrelationships between the imposition of settler colonial governmental policies and foodways:

I speak a lot with the elders because I always say, “Why, how is it different today, and how was it back then?” And so, they’re always saying, “I think when our people were … put on the reservation, or let’s just say, the land was taken away, the ability to hunt. Even to farm.” A lot of times people don’t know we were already farmers … harvesting and gathering as well as farming. … When … [settler colonists and descendants] came up with the reservation concept … we were starved, and sometimes the rations wouldn’t come in, or if they came in, [food] was, it was rotted. … We got scarred [or hurt by inadequate foodways] or scared [because there would be no food to eat]. And so, whenever we did have a chance to eat, yeah, we couldn’t help but overeat. … Even the elders and the grandmothers would say, “Eat as much as you can because we don’t know … when we eat again.” So, it went from being self-sufficient to relying on the government. … That’s where … a pattern of overeating has, has come, come about.

The threat of not having food caused people to overeat for fear of not having enough and changed belief systems and relationships with food. Gadhoke and Brenton (2017, 206) argued “Indigenous underlying foodways and related belief systems are actively redefined and realized by communities as products of their own organic experiences of multiple waves of traumatic losses and the resulting embodiment of social devastation.” As such, participants described a shift from preparing and eating only what was needed to overeating in recent times. Margaret recalled the foodway value of moderation:

Well, there was no such thing as wasted food in our house. … My mom would always cook just enough. She’d never overcooked, but I have been in other gatherings where there was always food left over. And this is where I had learned that hey, I need to make just enough so that, hey, we don’t gain the extra pound or, or, you know, waste it.

John, a 61-year-old SE man, said eating practices changed in his lifetime. He remembered eating many fresh foods growing up, saying, “Food was basically just grown, homegrown, prepared, wild meat, squirrels, rabbits.” He stated that fresh foods were “readily available because of … gardens.” But current eating preferences and practices were very different:

I think now, as an adult life, you know, I still like a good a buffet meal … but it can be fattening, as you grow older, your metabolism, it slows down, so at least for me … a lot of others too, I see they’re huge, just as me. They love eating. … The doctors told me, for diabetes, and all that, stay away from flour and all that stuff.

As people’s eating patterns changed and they ate out more, serving sizes and portions grew. Natasha, a 35-year-old SE participant, stated:

Portions are definitely larger. More fried food. Um, and as I mentioned, a lot more buffets, umm, and even just, even the food that’s being provided is a lot of ‘carby,’ starchy stuff. … A lot of [social gatherings] center around food, you have a lot of meetings over lunch or for holiday time when I would eat with my family … I would eat with my, my dad’s side, like lunchtime, then I would go eat the same thing with my mom’s side for dinner, so I don’t even know how many calories that was. … It adds up.

She described gaining weight from lack of access to healthful foods and social norms that perpetuated unhealthy eating:

I think that’s the biggest factor is just like, the social aspect of it. Because of, even if you want to eat healthy, (1) there are limited options; (2) nobody else is doing it around you; (3) any, it’s so food-oriented. … It’s all fried. … even if you really did have a good intent … the temptation is there, and … it just kind of wears down. … I remember I was gaining so much weight. … I asked my [medical] providers … she’s just like … you’ve been steadily growing or gaining weight for … [the] past 5 or 6 years.

Thus, even with great intentions and energy to eat healthfully, those practices were hard to sustain with the systemic structures of impaired foodways.

Settler colonial governmental programs interrupting foodways: Commodities and rations

The context of foodways changed over the course of the participants’ lifetimes, with direct roots in federal food policy programs. Many participants remembered hunting and eating naturally sourced foods from gardens when growing up; this practice shifted with the introduction of rations and commodities. Gwendolyn, a 78-year-old NW participant, remembered her grandparents, who were “born in the late 1800s.” “My grandmother’s days, there was buffalo, berries. … They lived a healthy life.” Gwendolyn added that rations provided flour-based foods and were “definitely” linked to health conditions such as diabetes and high blood pressure. She described that when her grandparents were put on reservations overseen by “Bureau of Indian Affairs Missions, or Catholic missions,” they experienced extreme poverty, severe restrictions, and inadequate rations: “They ate food that was foreign and … [lived in] extreme poverty … you couldn’t leave the reservation without a pass. … [The U.S. Army provided] rations, but a lot of them were horrible.” Gwendolyn described the effects of these rations on tribal people’s diets, saying:

Our diet changed. … [with] rations. … It was, wasn’t adequate for, for tribal people. … It was a lot of carbohydrates … but there was not enough. We were always hungry. … We just had a few straggly cattle … horses … a garden—not that good, because it’s dry. … The growing season is not very long.

Michael, a 64-year-old SE man, stated that people were healthier in the past, “I don’t remember any of us [in the tribe] … having diabetes or cancer.” Indeed, Satterfield et al. (2014) stated, “Diabetes is still viewed by many Native people as a ‘new’ disease, another in a string of threats introduced by the dominant culture. For example, diabetes is referred to by some as a ‘White man’s sickness’ requiring ‘White man’s medicine’” (161). Michael linked it to the change from garden to commodity foods, saying, “We used to have gardens,” but his cousin’s family, “used to have commodities. … Most of the [cousin’s] siblings have died from diabetes at an early age.” He contrasted this with his own family, who ate from a garden and have lived longer, and stated, “We’ve gotten old.” Michael linked lifestyle changes to the early deaths and ingredients in canned meats, which he said were cancer causing:

My auntie just opened [canned meat] up and put it in the pan. But my mom used to spill out the juice and rinse it, and she used to say that there are tiny particles in the can that’ll make you sick, that’ll give you cancer. … She only had a third-grade education, but you know, she’s talking about … those canned goods had lots of preservatives.

Melanie, a 58-year-old NW participant, described the content of commodity foods: “It was a luncheon meat. … like a ham. Um, rice, macaroni. … We grew up on meat.” Melanie’s family also hunted: “Deer. Elk. Um, a little bit of moose.” Lisa, a 63-year-old NW participant, remembered eating a mixture of commodities and fresh food from the local environment. She said, “I ate a lot of commodities, and my brother did a lot of hunting, so we had a lot of deer meat and my grandma used to pick berries all the time.” Lisa was still grounded in the region’s traditional foods; she had positive memories of picking berries and using them ceremonially:

I learned a lot. … I used to go pick berries with my grandma. We’d go, we had big coffee cans with a thing around the neck. Picked our berries. And even they had those sour kind … gooseberries. … bull berries. … They used to use them in like, ceremonial things. Cook them up. … Put them in a bowl and pass them, where they bless them.

This participant underscored the ties between food and ritual, ties that were threatened by changing food habits (Martens et al. 2016, 21; Matties 2016, 7).

Across regions and tribal communities, governmental commodities became a staple, as described by 61-year-old SE participant John:

We had some of those, growing up. … Canned vegetables and then those canned pork, and beef is the one that really has all those bad stuff in it. But if you can take it out and kind of spread it around kind of thing or drain it. Still the beef and all, that’s good.

Participants emphasized how family members were skilled at making tasty dishes with limited ingredients provided by commodities. Stella, a 57-year-old SE woman, remembered:

The government provided commodities. … My mom would make things out of it … homemade pancakes for us for breakfast … powdered eggs … chicken in a can and beef in a can. … Luncheon, lunch meat, like spam. It was almost like that. So, we ate those. Yes, she drained it. We would get them like once a month, once.

Participants demonstrated survivance and creativity in the use of ingredients while expressing consciousness of the unhealthy aspects, which they tried to minimize. Still, the commodity food program homogenized and changed diverse eating patterns across the United States in consistent ways. Sandra, a 59-year-old SE woman, remembered her grandma enhancing commodity food:

My grandma raised me, so we’ll usually eat that commodity food. … Flour and cheese, luncheon meat, beef, orange juice. My grandma … she’d put some onion … if she’s going to make a soup, she put a little vegetable in there, or something to taste good.

Growing up, Stacey, a 63-year-old female participant raised on a NW reservation, remembered eating “Majority was commodities,” as did Arnold, a 69-year-old NW participant: “We got commodities. There was chopped meat that was good. And beans. And Bannock (white flour), a lot of bannock bread.” He stated, sometimes, “I fished, me and my cousin, we fished for our breakfast and whatever we could catch for supper and stuff.” Similarly, Arthur, a 65-year-old NW participant, remembered the processed commodities at his grandparents’ house: “There was rations. Mainly commodity cheese, canned meats. … The meat was more like a Bologna. … A spam type of thing.”

Changing foodways: From homegrown and homemade to fast-food and premade

Gadhoke and Brenton (2017, 211) explain how “American values and ideals” of “healthy eating” often include prepackaged, convenient, and easy-to-prepare foods that are less healthful and culturally irrelevant. Fast-paced lives, long work hours, and limited food choices contributed to people moving from cooking at home to eating premade or restaurant food. Natasha, a 35-year-old SE woman working in wellness, stated food choices were limited. She said:

There’s less options in terms of like, like, even just in terms of the basics, you know, I would go to Walmart [the primary local grocer], and there would be no bananas, or no green peppers. But then also, in terms of like, access, especially in that [rural] area … there’s not a whole lot. … You’re just limited by what they carry. … I think that’s why a lot of people revert to eating the fast food or already made food.

When answering the question about how eating patterns had changed over time, Laura, a 55-year-old SE woman, described the present tendency to prefer fast food as due to the fast-paced lives many families with children lived; she summed up people’s current eating patterns in a few sentences: “Fast food and mama cooks [laughter]. … I used to cook like four time, four times a week, but … it’s easier to go get fast food.” Also, when people have the economic resources, conforming to American ideals of fast-food has become prevalent (Gadhoke and Brenton 2017, 211). Time and resource restrictions could also contribute to eating more fast-foods, as 60-year-old Cheryl, an NW participant, mentioned:

I was working 14 hours a day … I never was really wanting to cook, and so … we were constantly going from either a scout meeting to a football game or to … something else. … I was teaching at night and so, we were constantly eating fast food.

Meredith, a 62-year-old NW participant, explained how changing foodways connected with a lack of family rituals and connection, “I mean, my family doesn’t even sit at the table. … Everybody grabs a plate and goes here, goes there, and eats. … Or buy a pizza.” Thus, times changed, and access to unhealthy processed foods was more convenient, affordable, and attainable with increasingly fast-paced lifestyles.

Discussion

The FHORT enables the identification of contemporary structures of settler colonial historical oppression with a greater understanding of how they “show up” and drive health problems. Although region-specific results related to foodways are important, the scope of this research followed participant themes that elucidated consistent patterns of historical oppression across regions and contexts, which reflect the consequences of assimilative and homogenizing settler colonial governmental policies related to reservation, relocation, and commodity programs (Chino, Haff, and Dodge Francis 2009, 279–283; Howard University School of Law 2018; National Library of Medicine 2022; Vantrease 2013, 55–58). Gadhoke and Brenton (2017, 211) affirm that settler colonial governmental programs served to homogenize and reinforce the settler colonial logic of assimilation into “American values and ideals” through restricting, prescribing, and standardizing foodways according to U.S. eating patterns cross-nationally.

This work exposes a contemporary snapshot of how and why historical oppression that began with settler colonization and persists through contemporary forms of polices and programs that imposed changes on food sources, values, and lifestyles. Participants described how historical oppression has undermined foodways and the concomitant connectedness, cultural knowledge, family and interpersonal relationships, ceremonies, and outdoor activities that accompany them—all of which promote health and wellness (Hoover and Mihesuah 2019, 7–20). For centuries, colonial disruption undermined Indigenous communities’ self-determination and autonomy over their food systems (Hoover and Mihesuah 2019, 4; Vernon 2015, 138), interrupting intergenerational transmission of foodway knowledge (Hoover and Mihesuah 2019, 5). This destruction of food and foodway knowledge imposed dependence on unfamiliar processed foods disseminated by the U.S. government in the forms of rations issued by the U.S. Army and commodity foods issued by the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA; Chino, Haff, and Dodge Francis 2009, 279–281; Hoover and Mihesuah 2019, 5–6; Vantrease 2013, 55–69; Vernon 2015).

Participants connected the increase in diabetes and chronic health conditions with settler colonization and the forced consumption of rations and commodities, which imposed a diet heavy in starches, fats, and preservatives and low in vegetable and fruit intake (Satterfield et al. 2014). Participants spoke frequently about the bulk of their diet consisting of rations and commodities high in flour-based and processed foods that contribute to the development of health conditions such as type 2 diabetes, heart disease, and cancer (Hoover and Mihesuah 2019, 6; Mihesuah 2019, 96). As Hoover and Mihesuah (2019) stated (6–7), some rations have improved with time; however, most rations are heavy in preservatives, fat, sugar, carbohydrates, and salt (Cidro et al. 2015; Livingston 2019, 173–174; Redmond et al., 2019, 81–82). Despite efforts to improve the quality and freshness of commodities and include regional, culturally relevant foods (e.g., wild rice, buffalo meat, blue cornmeal) in the Food Distribution Program on Indian Reservations, barriers to these improvements include having sufficient quantities of culturally relevant foods to supply to all eligible participants (Hoover and Mihesuah 2019, 6).

Participants noted people’s tastes have changed after the imposition of Western foods, and they prefer more mainstream and nutrient-deficient foods over traditional Indigenous foodways, which is a finding supported by research (Chino, Haff, and Dodge Francis 2009, 279–284, Gurney et al. 2015, 681–684). Because Indigenous peoples are now in their second and third generations of eating commodity foods, Chino, Haff, and Dodge Francis (2009, 279–287) found Indigenous peoples whose parents prepared commodity foods growing up were much more likely to prefer canned and packaged meals and were much more likely to participate in federal food assistance programs (Chino, Haff, and Dodge Francis 2009, 279–287).

Consistent with extant research (Cidro et al. 2015), even if participants strove for healthy eating, many spoke about a lack of access to healthy foods and lifestyles. A low income and a lack of affordability and access to healthy, nutritious foods pose risks for type 2 diabetes, malnutrition, obesity, and cardiovascular disease (Jernigan et al. 2017, 441–442). Participants echoed shifts from subsistence living to store-bought and fast foods that contribute to diabetes and obesity (Cidro et al. 2015; Livingston 2019, 173–181). As Indigenous peoples moved away from gardens and consumed more white flour, sugars, and canned fruits, greater health conditions emerged, such as type 2 diabetes and obesity, the combination of which Livingston called diabesity (Livingston 2019, 173–174).

Participants emphasized they had fast-paced lifestyles in contemporary times and greater access to fast food than healthy food options (Cidro et al. 2015; Livingston 2019, 178–181; Redmond et al., 2019, 82). Results may implicate a benefit of reconnecting with land and nature by growing food in a garden; however, this reconnection may be confounded by a lack of time and resources available due to increasingly fast-paced lifestyles and limited access to land (Mihesuah 2019, 94–120). Thus, solutions and approaches to health equity must be contextually tailored and sustainable with the competing demands for people’s time, energy, and resources.

Limitations and future research

This research protected tribal identity due to agreements with focal tribes and followed recommendations for ethical and culturally sensitive research with Indigenous communities (Burnette et al. 2014). This protection was in response to a context of historical oppression in research, where tribal data have directly or inadvertently been misused or interpreted in a way that has caused negative consequences for tribal communities (Burnette and Sanders 2014,1). Other research may glean important insights by taking a comparative approach; however, by following the stories of participants and data, the striking and pervasive reach of federal food programs in the contemporary lives of participants across contexts is indisputable. Eating practices are affected by region, but results revealed how historical oppression homogenized some foodway practices across regions and contexts (Cidro et al. 2015; Livingston 2019, 173–181). Future research could examine localized changes in foodways affected by culture and context to understand how broad-based national policies such as commodity and rations affect tribes cross-nationally (Vantrease 2013, 57–59; Chino, Haff, and Dodge Francis 2009, 279–383).

Conclusion

Participants described the aftermath of settler colonial governmental programs and policies that undermined foodways, connectedness, cultural knowledge, family and interpersonal relationships, ceremonies, and outdoor activities—all of which promote health and wellness. To redress historical oppression, decolonized decision-making, foodways, and Indigenous food sovereignty are recommended as approaches to inform policy and programming that affirms Indigenous values and worldviews. This research has expanded awareness of how contemporary forms of historical oppression persist and pose risks to Indigenous people’s wellness. Results highlight the far-reaching effects of U.S. government policies and programs that caused extensive effects for tribes cross-nationally, albeit in localized ways. Decolonization through actions and decion-making that redress historical oppression at the political and policy level, along with culturally grounded and sustainable tribally driven solutions, can aim to provide Indigenous food sovereignty through increased autonomy, discretion, and governance over foodways.

Cote (2016, 2) stated, “Indigenizing” the movement for food sovereignty requires moving from rights-based initiatives to responsibilities and relationships that Indigenous peoples have always had with the environment. Indigenous food sovereignty places primacy on reconnection to place-based foodways and politically sovereign structures, affirming sacred responsibilities and connections to land, culture, relationships, spirituality, and ancestral peoples (Mihesuah and Hoover 2019, 11). Cote (2016, 2) wrote that decolonial praxis involves revitalizing Indigenous foodways and reaffirming spiritual, emotional, and physical connection to the land and environment while decreasing dependence on globalized food systems. Yet, food sovereignty can take innumerable forms; thus, it is fundamental for Indigenous peoples to self-determine what makes sense to them (Martens et al. 2016, 29). As Ruelle and Kassam (2013, 321) explained, “Cultural traditions are dynamic and adaptive. … Despite persistent expectations by other Americans that ‘authentic’ Native traditions should conform to pre-colonial practices, the right to adapt traditional foodways is critical to food sovereignty.”

Decolonization may be grounded in redressing settler colonial historical oppression at the political and policy level with tribally driven solutions that are culturally relevant and responsive to the local environment. Solutions can address not only changing foodway patterns, but also the systemic and broad barriers that pose disincentives for health, including lack of access and lack of affordability of nutrient-rich and healthy foods (Jernigan et al. 2017, 441–442). Work can be aimed at developing sustainable and culturally grounded programs that deepen and expand Indigenous food sovereignty and simultaneously improve Indigenous health equity. For example, localized foodway information gleaned from this work was infused into the meal portion of a family and culturally grounded program developed through a decade of community-based participatory research (McKinley and Theall 2021, 4). This infusion fostered decolonized foodways, affirmed Indigenous values and worldviews, and fueled critical consciousness and praxis. Indigenous food sovereignty can be integrated into policy and programming by (a) incorporating community based participatory research methods; (b) valuing food providers, localized food systems, and controls; (c) increasing knowledge, skills, and connection with nature; and (d) acknowledging that food is sacred and inseparable in its relationships with culture, the environment, and community (Martens et al. 2016, 21–22; Matties 2016, 7).

Acknowledgments

The authors thank the dedicated work and participation of the tribes and collaborators who contributed to this work. We thank The National Association for Children of Addiction for the original program that the WHF program was developed from, and White Bison for introducing cultural components. This work was supported, in part, by Award K12HD043451 from the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health & Human Development of the National Institutes of Health (Krousel-Wood-PI; Catherine McKinley (Formerly Burnette)-Building Interdisciplinary Research Careers in Women’s Health (BIRCWH) Scholar); and by U54 GM104940 from the National Institute of General Medical Sciences of the National Institutes of Health, which funds the Louisiana Clinical and Translational Science Center. Research reported in this publication was supported by the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism of the National Institutes of Health under Award Number R01AA028201). The content is solely the responsibility of the authors and does not necessarily represent the official views of the National Institutes of Health.

Appendix 1. Complete interview guide

  1. What do you know about how tribal community members ate in the old days/ways?
    1. What did they eat?
    2. How did they get the food?
    3. What memories or stories have you been told of eating practices (Where, with who, how/who prepared)?
    4. How does it compare with how people eat today?
    5. What do you suggest as practices for healthy tribal community members related to diet and well-being?
  2. How did tribal community members get physical exercise in the old days/ways?
    1. What are memories, if any, that you have of activities related to physical activity (Where, with who, how)?
    2. How do you think this relates to diet?
    3. How do you think this relates to well-being?
    4. How does it compare with how this is happened today?
    5. What do you suggest as practices for healthy tribal community members related to physical health and well-being?
  3. What were social relationships between tribal community members like in the old days/ways?
    1. Probe on: Relationships between partners, children, family, extended family, community members
    2. What were the norms around how these groups should behave around each other, provide examples?
    3. What are memories, if any, that you have of activities related to social relationships (Where, with who, how/who prepared)?
    4. How do you think this relates to diet?
    5. How do you think this relates to well-being?
    6. How does it compare with how this is happened today?
    7. What do you suggest as practices for healthy tribal community members related to social health and well-being?
  4. What were spiritual/religious practices like in the old days/ways?
    1. What are memories, if any, that you have of activities related to spirituality and religion (Where, with who, how)?
    2. How do you think this relates to diet?
    3. How do you think this relates to well-being?
    4. How does it compare with how this is happened today?
    5. What do you suggest as practices for healthy tribal community members related to spiritual/religious health and well-being?
  5. How did tribal community members handle mental/psychological challenges in the old days/ways?
    1. How do you think this relates to diet?
    2. How do you think this relates to well-being?
    3. How does it compare with how this is happened today?
    4. What do you suggest as practices for healthy tribal community members related to mental/psychological health and well-being?

Footnotes

1.The scope of this article is limited to U.S. Indigenous peoples (including Native Americans and Alaska Natives), the over 5 million peoples belonging to 574 federally recognized sovereign tribes (Bureau of Indian Affairs 2021) and hundreds of state and non-federally recognized tribes. Approximately 400 treaties with federally recognized tribes in exchange for Turtle Island, or what is now call the United States, promise to honor tribal sovereignty in perpetuity while ensuring adequate health, nutrition, education, and land-based rights (Le and Aptekar 2019). The U.S. government’s responsibility for tribal healthcare was reaffirmed by the Indian Health Care Improvement Act of 1976 and made permanent in the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act of 2020 (Gadhoke and Brenton 2017, 213).

Consent to participate

Researchers obtained informed consent from all individual participants included in the study.

Disclosure statement

The authors have no relevant financial or non-financial interests to disclose.

Ethics approval

All procedures performed in this study involving human participants were in accordance with the ethical standards of the institutional and/or national research committee and with the 1964 Helsinki Declaration and its later amendments or comparable ethical standards. Researchers gained approval from the social-behavioral sciences component of Tulane University’s IRB board [Study: 2018-1372-OTH], along with the tribal councils and agencies associated with this study.

References

  • Arvin M, Tuck E, and Morrill A. 2013. “Decolonizing Feminism: Challenging Connections between Settler Colonialism and Heteropatriarchy.” Feminist Formations 25 (1):8–34. https://www.jstor.org/stable/43860665. [Google Scholar]
  • Braun Kathryn L., Browne Colette V., Lana Sue Ka’Opua, Bum Jung Kim, and Mokuau Noreen. 2014. “Research on Indigenous Elders: From Positivistic to Decolonizing Methodologies.” The Gerontologist 54 (1):117–26. doi: 10.1093/geront/gnt067. [PMC free article] [PubMed] [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Bureau of Indian Affairs 2021. “Bureau of Indian Affairs.” https://www.bia.gov/bia. Accessed 24 June 2022.
  • Burnett K, Hay T, and Chambers L. 2016. “Settler Colonialism, Indigenous Peoples and Food: Federal Indian Policies and Nutrition Programs in the Canadian North since 1945.” Journal of Colonialism and Colonial History 17 (2):1–19. doi: 10.1353/cch.2016.0030. [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Burnette CE, and Figley CR. 2017. “Historical oppression, Resilience, and Transcendence: Can a Holistic Framework Help Explain Violence Experienced by Indigenous People?” Social work 62 (1):37–44. doi: 10.1093/sw/sww065. [PubMed] [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Burnette CE, Sanders S, Butcher HK, and Rand JT. 2014. “A toolkit for Ethical and Culturally Sensitive Research: An Application with Indigenous Communities.” Ethics and Social Welfare 8 (4):364–82. doi: 10.1080/17496535.2014.885987. [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Burnette CE, and Sanders S. 2014. “Trust development in Research with Indigenous Communities in the United States.” The Qualitative Report 19 (44):1–19. http://www.nova.edu/ssss/QR/QR19/burnette44.pdf. [Google Scholar]
  • Carspecken F 1996. Critical Ethnography in Educational Research, a Theoretical and Practical Guide. New York: Routledge. [Google Scholar]
  • Centers for Disease Control and Prevention 2019. “Heart disease behavior.” https://www.cdc.gov/heartdisease/behavior.htm. Accessed 24 June 2022.
  • Chino M, Haff DR, and Dodge Francis C. 2009. “Patterns of Commodity Food Use among American Indians.” Pimatisiwin: A Journal of Aboriginal and Indigenous Community Health 7 (2):279–89. https://digitalscholarship.unlv.edu/env_occ_health_fac_articles/51. [Google Scholar]
  • Cidro J, Adekunle B, Peters E, and Martens T. 2015. “Beyond food Security: Understanding Access to Cultural Food for Urban Indigenous People in Winnipeg as Indigenous Food Sovereignty.” Canadian Journal of Urban Research 24:24–43. https://http:///www.jstor.org/stable/26195276. [Google Scholar]
  • Coté Charlotte. 2016. “Indigenizing” Food Sovereignty. Revitalizing Indigenous Food Practices and Ecological Knowledges in Canada and the United States.” Humanities 5 (3):57–70. doi: 10.3390/h5030057. [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Gadhoke P, and Brenton BP. 2017. “Erasure of Indigenous Food Memories and (Re-) Imaginations.” Food Cults: How Fads, Dogma, and Doctrine Influence Diet edited by Cargill K: 205–18. Maryland: Rowan and Littlefield. [Google Scholar]
  • Gurney RM, Caniglia BS, Mix TL, and Baum KA. 2015. “Native American Food Security and Traditional Foods: A Review of the Literature.” Sociology Compass 9 (8):681–93. doi: 10.1111/soc4.12284. [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Hartmann WE, Wendt DC, Burrage RL, Pomerville A, and Gone JP. 2019. “American Indian Historical Trauma: Anticolonial Prescriptions for Healing, Resilience, and Survivance.” The American Psychologist 74 (1):6–19. doi: 10.1037/amp0000326. [PMC free article] [PubMed] [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Hoover E, and Mihesuah DA. 2019. “Introduction.” Indigenous food Sovereignty in the United States, edited by Mihesuah DA and Hoover E, 3–25. Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press. [Google Scholar]
  • Howard University School of Law 2018. “The Removal Era.” https://library.law.howard.edu/civilrightshistory/indigenous/removal. Accessed 25 June 2022.
  • Indian Health Service 2019. “Disparities.” https://www.ihs.gov/newsroom/factsheets/disparities/. Accessed 24 June 2022.
  • Jernigan VBB, Duran B, Ahn D, and Winkleby M. 2010. “Changing patterns in Health Behaviors and Risk Factors Related to Cardiovascular Disease among American Indians and Alaska Natives.” American journal of Public Health 100 (4):677–83. doi: 10.2105/AJPH.2009.164285. [PMC free article] [PubMed] [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Jernigan VBB, Wetherill MS, Hearod J, Jacob T, Salvatore AL, Cannady T, Grammar M, Standridge J, Fox J, Spiegel J, et al. 2017. “Food insecurity and Chronic Diseases among American Indians in Rural Oklahoma: The THRIVE Study.” American journal of Public Health 107 (3):441–6. doi: 10.2105/AJPH.2016.303605. [PMC free article] [PubMed] [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Kidder LH, and Fine M. 1987. “Qualitative and Quantitative Methods: When Stories Converge.” New Directions for Program Evaluation 1987 (35):57–75. doi: 10.1002/ev.1459. [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Le P, and Aptekar S, S. 2019. “For American Indians, health is a human and legal right.” The Healthcare Blog. https://thehealthcareblog.com/blog/2019/03/29/for-american-indians-health-is-a-human-and-legal-right/. Accessed 24 June 2022. [Google Scholar]
  • Lindholm MM 2019. “Alaska Native Perceptions of Food, Health, and Community Well-Being: Challenging Nutritional Colonialism.” Indigenous food Sovereignty in the United States, edited by Mihesuah DA and Hoover E, 155–72. Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press. [Google Scholar]
  • Livingston D 2019. “Healthy Diné Nation Initiatives: Empowering out Communities.” Indigenous food Sovereignty in the United States, edited by Mihesuah DA and Hoover E, 173–85. Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press. [Google Scholar]
  • Martens TM, Cidro J, Hart MA, and McLachlan S. 2016. “Understanding Indigenous Food Sovereignty through an Indigenous Research Paradigm.” Journal of Indigenous Social Development 5 (1):18–37. http://umanitoba.ca/faculties/social_work/research/jisd/. [Google Scholar]
  • Matties Z 2016. “Unsettling settler Food Movements: Food Sovereignty and Decolonization in Canada.” Cuizine 7 (2):1–15. doi: 10.7202/1038478ar. [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • McKinley CE 2023. Understanding Indigenous Gender Relations and Violence against Indigenous Women: Becoming Gender AWAke. Springer Nature. https://link.springer.com/book/10.1007/978-3-031-18583-0. [Google Scholar]
  • McKinley CE, Boel-Studt S, Renner LM, Figley CR, Billiot S, and Theall K. 2020. “The Historical Oppression Scale: Preliminary Conceptualization and Measurement of Historical Oppression among Indigenous Peoples of the United States.” Transcultural psychiatry 57 (2):288–303. doi: 10.1177/1363461520909605. [PMC free article] [PubMed] [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • McKinley CE, Figley CR, Woodward S, Liddell J, Billiot S, Comby N, and Sanders S. 2019. “Community-Engaged and Culturally Relevant Research to Develop Mental and Behavioral Health Interventions with American Indian and Alaska Natives.” American Indian and Alaska Native Mental Health Research (Online) 26 (3):79–103. doi: 10.5820/aian.2603.2019.79. [PMC free article] [PubMed] [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • McKinley CE, and Theall KP. 2021. “Weaving Healthy Families Program: Promoting Resilience While Reducing Violence and Substance Use.” Research on Social Work Practice 31 (5):476–92. Published online March 182021Issue published July 1, 2021) doi: 10.1177/1049731521998441. [PMC free article] [PubMed] [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Mihesuah DA 2019. “Searching for Haknip Achuma Good Health: Challenges to Food Sovereignty Initiatives in Oklahoma.” Indigenous food Sovereignty in the United States, edited by Mihesuah DA and Hoover E, 94–121. Switzerland: University of Oklahoma Press. [Google Scholar]
  • Mihesuah DA, and Hoover E. 2019. “Introduction.” Indigenous food Sovereignty in the United States, edited Mihesua DA and Hoover E, 3–25. Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press. [Google Scholar]
  • National Library of Medicine. 2022. 1851: Congress creates reservations to manage Native peoples. https://www.nlm.nih.gov/nativevoices/timeline/317.html. Accessed 24 June 2022.
  • Peres TM 2017. “Foodways archaeology: A Decade of Research from the Southeastern United States.” Journal of Archaeological Research 25 (4):421–60. doi: 10.1007/s10814-017-9104-4. [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Redmond LC, Jock B, Gadhoke P, Chiu DT, Christiansen K, Pardilla M, Swartz J, Platero H, Caulfield LE, and Gittelsohn J. 2019. “OPREVENT Obesity Prevention and Evaluation of Intervention Effectiveness in Native North Americans: Design of a Multilevel, Multicomponent Obesity Intervention for Native American Adults and Households.” Current developments in Nutrition 3 (Suppl 2):81–93. doi: 10.1093/cdn/nzz009. [PMC free article] [PubMed] [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Ruelle ML, and Kassam KAS. 2013. “Foodways transmission in the Standing Rock Nation.” Food and Foodways 21 (4):315–39. doi: 10.1080/07409710.2013.850007. [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Satterfield D, DeBruyn L, Francis C, and Allen A. 2014. “A stream is Always Giving Life: Communities Reclaim Native Science and Traditional Ways to Prevent Diabetes and Promote Health.” American Indian Culture and Research Journal 38 (1):157–90. doi: 10.17953/aicr.38.1.hp318040258r7272. [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Vantrease D 2013. “Commod bods and Frybread Power: Government Food Aid in American Indian Culture.” Journal of American Folklore 126 (499):55–69. doi: 10.5406/jamerfolk.126.499.0055. [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Vernon RV 2015. “A Native Perspective: Food is More than Consumption.” Journal of Agriculture, Food Systems, and Community Development 54:1–6. doi: 10.5304/jafscd.2015.054.024. [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]
  • Wilson S 2008. Research is Ceremony: Indigenous Research Methods. Canada: Fernwood Publishing. [Google Scholar]
  • Wolfe Patrick. 2006. “Settler Colonialism and the Elimination of the Native.” Journal of Genocide Research 8 (4):387–409. doi: 10.1080/14623520601056240. [CrossRef] [Google Scholar]