The discussion of reparations for Native Americans often hinges on the idea of physically returning land to the possession of tribes. Those who disapprove argue that displacing current residents is unrealistic and egregious, but that sounds a little familiar, doesn’t it?
Pushed onto reservations to make room for a group of people seeking to industrialize and profit off of land held to be sacred, Indigenous peoples have had to accommodate the limitations the United States government has set up for them for centuries.
Land acknowledgments, implemented at many areas of UW ranging from student organizations’ meetings to class syllabi, recognize that locations such as the UW campus — established on the land of the Duwamish and Coast Salish tribes — sit on native land. However, efforts to right the wrongs of history won’t materialize by simply admitting the presence of stolen land, no matter the good intentions behind them.
So, what else can be done, and how can UW contribute? Much of the Land Back movement is about physical land, of course, but tribes can’t simply take it back — they have to buy it back. One way non-Indigenous people can help has become known as a voluntary “land tax.”
Alameda, California, a city just outside of San Francisco, implemented a policy in 2021 in which non-Indigenous residents can pay an annual voluntary tax to the Ohlone Tribe. For the next two years, the city has committed to paying $11,000 per year in what has been called the Shuumi Land Tax. It functions in a similar way to rent or mortgage — depending on the city, participants pay a specific amount periodically directly to the tribe and/or organization.
Meaning “gift” in the Chochenyo language, the Shuumi tax is part of an effort in the “rematriation” of land to Indigenous people across the country — also known as a return of land to tribes.
While there is a variety of vocabulary employed to describe the return of land and reparations for Native Americans, this specific process is Indigenous women-led and aims to revitalize the lost connection between Indigenous people and their ancestry through venerating matrilineage and resisting patriarchal violence.
While it might not be obvious, tangential efforts have been underway in Washington state.
In the summer of 2023, the Snoqualmie Tribe enacted a 2% tax on revenue acquired through the Salish Lodge and Spa, a major attraction site in Washington state. This came following the purchase of 12,000 acres in the Tolt River Watershed region in 2022. A primary factor in this purchase was the ability to control the ecosystem and preserve the cultural heritage of the land.
Seattle sits on Duwamish land, and the mistreatment of this land is evident throughout the metropolitan area. Simply visiting the Duwamish River, one can witness the need for more care focused on this essential water source. Industry has taken over, and the federal government deemed it a superfund site, which is an area polluted with various hazardous materials.
Given this, it’s entirely valid that these tribes want to attain sovereignty over the land that they understand and care for on a level non-Indigenous people do not.
The Snoqualmie tribe is one example of various tribes among the 40 independent nations within the Coast Salish peoples working to protect their land and maintain sovereignty, so what about the tribe’s land on which UW sits?
There have been movements similar to the Shuumi Land Tax here in Seattle. Real Rent Duwamish is a grassroots movement aimed at collecting donations from those living and working in Seattle.
On paper, this idea is a positive step in the Land Back movement, but there are tensions veiled by the widespread political sentiment of land repatriation. In an essay from 2022, Colleen Kimseylove investigated Real Rent Duwamish, including the tensions that exist between Duwamish and other Coast Salish tribes in the Seattle area — especially the Suquamish and Muckleshoot — regarding native identity and what federal recognition means for each tribe.
Kimseylove found that Chief Seattle was not of solely Duwamish descent, and the lines of ancestry within tribes in the Seattle area become a bit blurred when considering the impact of white settlers and the federal government’s unkept promises.
Many Coast Salish tribes oppose the Duwamish Tribal Council’s push for federal recognition because they are not the descendants of the Duwamish people who were among those who signed the Treaty of Point Elliott, while all of the Suquamish Tribe and over 95% of the Muckleshoot Tribe are.
The desire to serve social justice is a benevolent one, but the history of colonialism and current politics among Native American tribes as a result of that history is much more complicated than what is understood on a surface level. The knowledge that these issues are the result of colonial processes is frustrating, especially considering how little effort the federal government is putting into the preservation of Native culture and sovereignty.
Additionally, federal and tribal law can further complicate the implementation of the tax.
As for those living and working at UW, it’s important to evaluate how this tax would affect students and faculty.
When I spoke to students, both Indigenous and non-Indigenous, most agreed that the tax is a step in the right direction, but the lack of a concrete proposal understandably incited hesitation. With that said, the support for this tax weighs heavily on the established implications and what its impact could be.
As an educational institution, UW has a responsibility to prioritize the social justice of its students. Thus, students within these tribes have a right to reparations as well. If UW enacted a land tax, how those funds would be distributed and what they would contribute are important questions to ask to guarantee that the suitable tribes and its members are rightfully receiving what they deserve.
Reach writer Sophie Knight at opinion@dailyuw.com. Twitter: @knightsophie13
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