“A Disease of the Outside People”

Colonization and IPV

Many Euro-American scholars have asserted that IPV is universal and has been historically and systematically documented (Dobash & Dobash, 1979; Hamby, 2000; McHugh & Bartoszek, 2000; Pence & Paymar, 1993). Feminist theories on IPV often cite patriarchal social structures, societal acceptance of male dominance and aggression, and gender-role stereotyping as causal factors in IPV that are assumed to be universal for all cultures (Hamby, 2000). Although rates of IPV in Native American communities today are very high, this is a recent phenomenon (Tehee & Esqueda, 2008). Most Native American scholars agree that IPV was almost nonexistent in pre-contact cultures and that, when it did occur, it was severely sanctioned (Chester et al., 1994; Duran, Duran, Woodis, & Woodis, 1998; Hamby, 2000; Roesch-Wagner, 2000). It would be inaccurate and overly simplistic to suggest that women were never the victims of men’s violence in pre-contact Native societies; however, there is evidence from within the cultures themselves of sanctions and social-cultural religious prohibitions against it.

Prior to widespread European colonization, social, political, familial, and spiritual structures across many indigenous cultures gave women inherent power and resulted in societies that were often more egalitarian than those found in European cultures. Although gender roles varied by tribes, there generally was greater flexibility and variability for both men and women (Klein & Ackerman, 1995; LaDuke, 1992). Clan connections and relationships assured a family or community response to interpersonal violence. Divorce was an option for women in many pre-contact societies, and men who perpetrated violence against women lost status as warriors, were ostracized, or could be exiled. Because harmony among tribal members was essential for survival, effective systems for mediating and resolving interpersonal conflicts evolved over thousands of years (Klein & Ackerman, 1995; LaDuke, 1992). The reduction in the status held by women within indigenous nations was a first priority for European colonizers eager to weaken and destabilize target societies (Jaimes & Halsey, 1992). The disempowerment of Native women corresponded precisely with the colonial domination of each indigenous nation.

In 1996, Zion and Zion reviewed Navajo tradition regarding the handling of IPV. Examining Navajo common law and traditions that discouraged IPV, they assert that current violence is the product of disruption of traditional lifestyles, economies, and institutions along with the introduction of individualism and patriarchal rule. Coker (1999) examined Navajo “Peacemaking” as a useful informal adjudication method that disrupts nontraditional social and familial supports for IPV. Peacemaking addresses both the systemic and personal responsibility aspects of violence and includes the use of traditional stories with gender anti-subordination themes to change the way perpetrators and families understand this violence.

Alcohol, Colonization, and IPV

Alcoholism and substance abuse rates are quite high in many reservation communities. The use of alcohol as a subduing tool, as a factor in cultural loss, and as an artifact of colonization has been well documented (Duran et al., 1998; Kawamoto, 2001). Researchers have noted that IPV often occurs with drug or alcohol use by the perpetrator as well as by the target (Bohn, 2003; Cooley & Severson, 1993; Steinmetz, 1987). However, few theorists have proposed a direct causal relationship, despite that substance use and IPV often occur in tandem.

Current research indicates that men who have severe alcohol and drug problems are apt to abuse their partner when they are drunk and sober (Frieze & Browne, 1989). Patterns of alcohol consumption seem to influence violence in that alcohol abuse is more predictive of violence than acute intoxication, although both are predictive. Tolman and Bennett (1990) found binge drinkers have the highest rates of battering. Frieze and Knoble (1980) asserted that the main supports for the view that alcohol and IPV have a causal relationship are reports from victims and general public opinion. Researchers agree that drugs and alcohol have the potential to exacerbate an individual’s emotional instability or intensify interpersonal conflict (Collins, Kroutil, Roland, Moore-Gurrera, 1997; Cooley & Severson, 1993; Frieze & Browne, 1989; Hotaling & Sugarman, 1986; Leonard, 2001, 2005; Martin, 1992; McCarroll, Newby, Benedel, Ursano, & Vineburgh, 2006; Steinmetz, 1987; Tolman & Bennett, 1990). The substance may act as a disinhibitor for those already prone to violence or to provide justification or an excuse for it (Hayes & Emshoff, 1993). High rates of alcoholism are a reality in many Native American communities; therefore, it is necessary to examine the relationship between alcohol abuse and IPV.

Unique Cultural Perspectives

Tehee and Esqueda (2008) compared differences in the perceptions of American Indian women and European American women regarding IPV. The authors hypothesized that due to unique historical and cultural experiences, American Indian women would hold different perceptions regarding the history, definitions, and causes of IPV. Results indicated that there are important differences in the women’s perspectives regarding the causes of IPV that have implications for prevention and treatment. The authors advocate the need for community-based, tribally controlled, and culturally appropriate approaches to this problem. Additionally, Weaver (2009) emphasized the colonial context as a critical means to understanding violence in the lives of Native American women.

There are several theories regarding cultural differences that may exist in the phenomenon of IPV that have arisen from extensive clinical work with Native American men from a variety of community settings (Duran et al., 1998). These theories inform public policy, community awareness initiatives, and psychological treatment approaches (Duran et al., 1998). Tribal governments, tribal leaders, advocacy groups, and numerous tribal-based prevention and intervention efforts have formally recognized the epidemic violence against Native American women as a result of interaction with immigrant groups and the loss of traditional social structures and values through the process of colonization (Duran et al., 1998; Kawamoto, 2001; LaDuke, 1992; NCAI, 2013).

Feminist Perspective

My research was informed by an underlying theoretical feminist understanding of IPV as a social pathology that results from patriarchal social structures that support male dominance, male violence, and female subordination (Bograd & Yllo, 1989; Dobash & Dobash, 1979; Hansen & Harway, 1993). From this conceptual framework, IPV in Native American communities may be the result of colonization by the patriarchal colonizers and loss of traditional cultural values and social structures. A postcolonial, feminist epistemology is focused not only on patriarchy as a source of oppression but also on how social inequities are embedded in historical, political, social, cultural, and economic contexts that influence violence against women. My approach is post-positivist (Nelson & Prilleltensky, 2005; Ryan, 2006) in that I seek to identify the cultural elements that shape scientific inquiry and to assess which of these elements may inhibit or further knowledge about IPV in Native communities. Although many feminist scholars (Fonow & Cook, 1991, 2005; Harding, 1987; Sprague & Zimmerman, 1993; Stanley, 2013; Stanley & Wise, 1993) have rejected the notion that there is a distinctive feminist methodology in research, my study’s focus on giving “voice” to a disempowered, disenfranchised, oppressed group (Native American men) and the focus of knowledge as socially constructed by the dominant (colonizing) group to serve its interests is consistent with feminist standpoint theorists (Stanley, 2013). The use of personal interviews/narratives based on the participants’ perspectives, beliefs, and experiences along with researcher reflexivity (the acknowledgement of the researcher within the research process) is consistent with feminist research approaches (Fonow & Cook, 1991, 2005).

The Present Research

Prior to the current study, no specific formal data are known to exist with regard to Native American men’s awareness, understanding, or perceptions regarding IPV. My study sought to understand the cultural perspectives and beliefs of men from a single cultural community by using intensive qualitative interviews and by placing their life stories and perspectives at the center of my analysis. With my initial interviews with male Elders, I sought to clarify and understand the concepts about traditional culture and values as well as provide a lens for a community-level, culturally specific perspective on IPV. Through my interviews with subsequent participants, I attempted to broaden the discussion of racial and cultural issues in the lives of Native American men who had been involved with IPV at some point in their lives. The aim of my study was to provide potentially unique cultural perspectives about IPV in a single Native American community. Given the scarcity of existing data on Native American men’s experiences with and perceptions of IPV, my qualitative data are necessarily descriptive and exploratory.

Methods

Given the lack of prior data on Native American men’s experiences or perceptions of IPV, the goals of my research were discovery and exploration of the participants’ own interpretations of reality, thus making a qualitative design most congruent. I used loosely structured, open-ended interviews and an approach to data collection and analysis utilizing principles and techniques from grounded theory and ethnographic content analysis. This form of research is an inductive approach, rather than beginning with a theory and formal hypothesis, which is then tested and understood through the collection of data (i.e., a deductive approach), the data are examined for the theories that may be contained within them. My research had three phases: (a) Phase 1 preliminary fieldwork that informed my research questions for the formal study (phases 2 and 3) and divulged the values and the interests of the researcher to key sanctioning members of the community, (b) Phase 2 interviews with tribal Elders to establish and define “traditional values,” and (c) Phase 3 interviews with Native men with histories of IPV.

Phase 1: Preliminary Fieldwork

In ethnographic tradition, I began preliminary fieldwork 2 years prior to the formal study, which entailed an ongoing reflexive process. Reflexivity refers to the bidirectional nature of the research process in which the researcher is aware of and acknowledges his or her place and contribution to the construction of meanings throughout each stage of the research process. Rather than assuming the position of “outside observer,” reflexivity in the research process includes self-reference, divulging values and interests in the research, and a willingness to receive critique in order to maintain the primary interest in cultural analysis (Tuhiwai Smith, 2012). Reflexivity and the researcher’s continual awareness of the ways in which they inform the research process from conceptualization to data analysis is a major theme in feminist research (DeVault, 1990; Fonow & Cook, 1991, 2005; Harding, 1992; Olesen, 1994).

Preliminary fieldwork was essential to the research design and process (Altheide, 1987; Hammersley & Atkinson, 2007; Leedy & Ormrod, 2001), and it consisted of informal and formal interviews with 17 men and women in the community on the topic of IPV—including its definition, prevalence (both historically and in the present), causes, and solutions to this social problem. The goal of the fieldwork was to strengthen and form relationships with leaders in the community and to discover community-specific, culturally specific perceptions and beliefs about contemporary and historic IPV. Additionally, the fieldwork provided an opportunity for the researcher to divulge values and interests in pursuing a formal study (Phases 2 and 3) and to receive critique from leaders in the community. Unlike the questions in the formal study, fieldwork questions were directed at the community level rather than personal level; for example, “Tell me about domestic violence on this reservation.” Data from the fieldwork indicated those in the reservation community who were interviewed perceived IPV as an increasing social problem brought on by colonization. They spoke about the widespread loss of traditional cultural values and social structures and the introduction of alcohol as the causes of this violence. It was noted in several interviews that IPV has become “epidemic” only in the last few decades since the legalization and availability of alcohol on the reservation (as opposed to the 150 years stated in the literature). Most of those interviewed were aware that, prior to colonization, their society had been matrilineal and matrilocal. They indicated that women in pre-contact society were treated respectfully and that violence against them was swiftly retaliated by male clan and family members.

Phase 2: Interviews With Elders

In my interviews with male Elders, I sought to more formally clarify and understand the concepts about traditional culture and values and provide a lens for a community-level, culturally specific perspective on IPV. Two general sets of questions guided my interviews with Elders: (a) How do traditional Elders in the community perceive IPV (in pre-contact culture, over their life span, and currently)? (“When we speak about tradition or the ‘old days,’ what does that mean to you?” “In the old days, how did a man treat his wife?” “Do you think the men and women on this reservation still follow these traditions?”) and (b) Do Elders think IPV is a problem in the community? What do traditional Elders think should be done about it? (“Tell me what you think of domestic violence now. Is it a problem?” “What do you think should be done about it?”)

Phase 3: Interviews With Native Men

My interviews with Native men attempted to open the discussion of racial and cultural issues in the lives of Native American men who had been involved with IPV at some point in their lives. The following three sets of research questions guided this portion of my study: (a) How do American Indian men with self-identified histories of IPV define themselves in relation to their culture and community? (“How would you describe yourself to others when they ask you about your background?”), (b) How do American Indian men perceive their involvement with IPV—particularly with respect to cultural identity? (“In your view, what does domestic violence mean?” “Do you think it is a problem in this community?” “…in your family?” “…with you?”), and (c) Do American Indian men perceive IPV as a problem in their community? If so, what might be done to stop it? (“In your view, why do you think relationships become violent?” “Can you tell me a story of something that happened to you or someone close to you?” “Can you tell me a story about what happened when you were violent or abusive towards a woman?” “What (if anything) should be done about domestic violence here [in the community]?”).

Procedure and Participants

I am a Native American psychologist, and I had existing relationships in the community and detailed knowledge of the tribal history and traditional cultural traditions that informed the research design and process. Based on my knowledge of the culture and history of the community, preliminary fieldwork, and my review of the literature, my preconceptions about possible discoveries included the notion that men who identified as “traditional” in terms of cultural identity and values would not have histories of IPV, whereas those with histories of violence would possess a more acculturated identity aligned with male-dominated, patriarchal social values. Support from the tribal leadership and the participation of respected community Elders were essential for my study, and both are also recommended in the literature (Norton & Manson, 1996). For the protection and confidentiality of the participants, I used “Great Lakes tribe” in place of the official tribal name. I provided a summary of my results to tribal leaders and IPV treatment providers serving the study’s community.

Participants were recruited through flyers posted at the local mental health facility that provided IPV treatment and at public and cultural events both on and off the reservation. Recruitment strategies also included brief presentations about the study, and early participants referred other men to participate in the interviews. For reasons of safety and to minimize risk to women and families, men who were currently in treatment for IPV were ineligible for the study. An additional exclusion criterion was intoxication at the time of the interview; two volunteers were excluded from interviews due to suspected intoxication.

Consistent with cultural tradition, all participants were given a traditional offering of tobacco just prior to the interviews as a sign of gratitude and respect for their willingness to share their views and stories. At the time of the interview, a list of local mental health counselors and spiritual counselors was provided in case the interviews caused distress to the participants. Additionally, participants had the option of attending a debriefing at the end of the study that took the form of a traditional Talking Circle (a culturally relevant form of group discussion that has healing implications and has been frequently used in Native American communities for problems such as addiction) facilitated by a respected traditional Elder and myself. The privacy and confidentiality of participants were protected throughout the research process. The participants chose pseudonyms, and interviews were conducted in a private off-reservation location that was not used during recruitment. Identifying information was obscured or removed, and participants had the opportunity to refuse the use of direct quotes in the presentation of results.

Nine men, representing three generations, identified experiences with IPV and self-selected to participate. Their pseudonyms, approximate ages, marital status, IPV treatment status, whether they lived on or near the reservation, and education are detailed in Table 1. All had been married at least once, and seven of the nine had been married more than once. Levels of traditional cultural identification, assimilation, or acculturation were not measured formally, but rather, participants were asked open-ended questions to describe themselves in relation to their cultural identity (e.g., “How would you describe yourself to others when they ask you about your background?”). All but three of the men lived on the reservation, and the three lived within 50 miles and traveled there frequently. Although five of the participants reported that they had police involvement and had served time in jail for violent behavior against their female partners, only three of the five indicated that they had been court ordered for treatment. IPV treatment consisted of group anger management, and one participant received a 26-week IPV treatment program in conjunction with substance abuse treatment. The men had all completed treatment prior to the study. The treatment facility at the time of the study utilized standard mainstream Euro–American approaches, and treatment staff members were Caucasian.

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Table 1.

Each Participant’s Demographic Information.

Pseudonym	Category	Age	Married or Living With Partner	IPV Treatment	Living on Reservation	Highest Education
So-Say	Elder	>60	Married	No	Yes	8th Grade
Wa-Ni	Elder	>60	Married	No	Yes	GED
Daniel	Non-violent witness	50s	Married	No	Yes	MA Degree
Tom	Non-violent witness	50s	Married	No	No	Associates Degree
KC	Very violent history	40s	Married	Yes	Yes	GED
Skin	Very violent history	40s	Living with	Yes	Yes	High School Grad
Bob	In transition	30s	No	No	Yes	8th Grade
Joe	In transition	30s	Living with	Yes	No	High School Grad
Kanasa	In transition	30s	Living with	No	No	GED

Note. IPV = intimate partner violence; GED = general equivalency diploma.

Interviewing

Data were collected through loosely structured, open-ended, face-to-face interviews between 1 and 3 hours in length. The interview questions were informed by the research questions, the reflexive process, and the fieldwork I did in Phase 1 prior to the formal study. Additionally, I had several years of prior experience conducting intake/assessment interviews with men referred for IPV treatment in an urban mental health center. The questions focused on cultural dynamics (such as cultural identity, values, and knowledge or adherence to traditional cultural values) while at the same time allowing for additional themes and concepts to emerge. Interviews were audiotaped and I transcribed them verbatim. I took field notes during the interview process describing impressions, reactions, or other significant events that occurred as additional data. Once saturation was achieved, evidenced by repetition (or the parallel nature of participants’ stories), I halted the interviews (Bowen, 2008).

During the interviews, participants were asked to clarify meanings and context if these were unclear. During the consent process, participants decided if they would permit me to contact them postinterview if I needed to verify data. The nine consenting participants were mailed a copy of their verbatim transcript for review. Only one participant followed up to clarify responses. A supporting research assistant served as the second transcriber and as an auditor of each of the transcripts. The findings were evaluated against existing literature, and the auditor and I discussed interpretations of data until we arrived at consensus. The interview narratives offered a tapestry of personal life stories, opinions, cultural stories, historical and current events, and general social commentary.

Data Analysis

The standards in the qualitative paradigm used in my study to ensure trustworthiness (rigor) and the social and intellectual value of the research included credibility, transferability, dependability, and confirmability (Creswell & Miller, 2000; Guba & Lincoln, 1983; Lincoln & Guba, 1985). Lincoln and Guba (1985) have asserted that these standards are analogous to standards in quantitative research. Credibility (internal validity) refers to the investigator’s attempt to demonstrate that the true picture of the phenomenon being studied is presented. Transferability (external validity) refers to providing sufficient details of the context and the fieldwork or interviews, so that other researchers and practitioners can decide if the research environment is similar to another situation and if the findings might justifiably be applied to another site. Dependability (reliability) means that the researcher strives to enable future researchers to repeat the study. Confirmability (objectivity) is achieved when researchers take steps to demonstrate that the findings that emerge from the data come from the data and not their own predispositions.

The methods of analysis included several stages and utilized principles from grounded theory and ethnographic content analysis (Bowen, 2008; Glaser & Strauss, 1999; Hammersley & Atkinson, 2007). The element of grounded theory that I used was the element of coding (or the labeling of phenomenon). My analysis of the data utilized the constant comparative method used in both ethnographic content analysis and grounded theory (Guba & Lincoln, 1983; Merriam, 2002). In the constant comparative method, participants’ views, actions, and experiences are compared (through their narratives), the data within the individual’s narrative are compared across the narrative, the data and codes are compared with the categories, and categories are compared with other categories (Charmaz, 1983, 1995; Glaser, 1978, 1992). The goals for this form of analysis are to discover emergent patterns, themes, and cultural perspectives. Although systematic, it is not rigid and allows for the constant discovery and comparisons of culturally relevant situations, styles, images, and meanings (Bowen, 2008; Glaser & Strauss, 1999; Hammersley & Atkinson, 2007; Strauss, 2003; Strauss & Corbin, 1997). Consistent with grounded theory approaches, the coding and analytic work occurred alongside the data collection.

Coding began with a careful reading and re-reading of each narrative transcript, noting initial impressions until themes and patterns began to emerge. During the process of open coding, each transcript was read line by line, and words phrases and sentences were given codes based on the questions “What is being referenced here?” and “What is this about?” The codes were then grouped into similar concepts (e.g., traditions and values), and those were later combined with related or similar codes and merged as categories. A coding template was created, and words, phrases, sentences, and paragraphs from each narrative were transferred to the coding template for further analysis. The data were highly interconnected, and often, the quotations overlapped conceptually and were relevant for more than one category. These data were then double coded. In reflexive analysis, the coded interviews were re-read, and tensions as well as conflicting or contradicting codes were noted. The core categories were again tracked and compared from beginning to end within each narrative and across each narrative by reading separately and repeatedly for each code/theme. Through analysis and comparison, several new “in vivo” codes/themes emerged spontaneously from the data. These included culturally specific terms and meanings used by the participants. For example, “human being” was a term (in vivo) code that was used by many of the participants to describe a “traditional tribal person” both from the historical and from the contemporary perspective. None of the research or interview questions referenced alcohol, yet, both within and across the narratives, references to it were so pervasive that it became a major category. A full description of this aspect of the study is deserving of and intended for a separate article. In keeping with the scope and focus of the present article, references are included when germane to personal/cultural identity and IPV.

Results

Based on the analysis of the narratives, the participants were identified as falling into four groups: (a) the Elders, (b) Non-violent Witnesses, (c) Men with Very Violent Histories, and (d) Men in Transition (see Table 1). These categories described the participants’ level of cultural knowledge and identification as well as their relationship with IPV and recovery. Not only were the two Elders the oldest, but they also had extensive knowledge of oral history and traditional tribal culture and values. The narratives of the two men described as “Non-Violent Witnesses” focused heavily on the effects of their parent’s violence on their lives. The two men described as “Men with Very Violent Histories” had reported extreme levels of violence in relationships several decades before the research study, but were, at the time of the study, respected cultural role models. The “Men in Transition” represented the three youngest men in the study who reported recent IPV problems but were in a process of retraditionalization (an identity transformation through reconnecting with Elders and traditional tribal culture) as a means to sobriety and nonviolence. These groupings described and differentiated participants; however, the main themes presented here were found across the sample and all participants described themselves as “traditional.”

The findings of the study and participants’ responses were organized into three overarching thematic categories: (a) Cultural identity and traditional values, (b) Perceptions of IPV, and (c) Addressing the problem of IPV. For further information about the source of each quote, please refer to Table 1 which lists each participant by his study pseudonym.

Cultural Identity and Traditional Values

The men were asked to describe both themselves and how they would describe themselves to others. Levels of traditional identification were defined through several aspects: (a) their knowledge of oral history and tribal customs, (b) their identification with these aspects of culture as evidenced in their life stories, (c) length of time and impact of their exposure to Elders, and (d) current roles within the community. Their narratives included themes of growing up with racism, isolation, alcoholism, and family violence, of struggling to define themselves as “Indian,” and of finding their roles in a world not of their making.

Despite the fact that none of the interview questions addressed alcohol, each participant included in his self-description his past and current relationship with alcohol as a part of his identity. For example, Daniel noted: “They would say I am really into protecting the environment, that I view education as important, and that I don’t drink or do drugs. Sometimes I am brutally honest.” Skin, one of the men with a very violent history explained: “I don’t drink, I used to be an alcoholic—a long time ago—then plus I was a drug addict…I don’t do that stuff no more.”

Themes of childhood neglect, family dysfunction, and violence as a result of “49’n” (binge drinking over a 48-hour weekend) were found across the sample. The men stated that as children they “despised alcohol and anyone who drank” (K.C.), and all were adamant about not drinking or wanting to be like the drinking adults around them. During adolescence and young adulthood, however, each of the men told of struggles with destructive drinking and substance abuse patterns that have, unfortunately, become social norms in the community. Eight of the nine participants began drinking between the ages of 14 and 17. Daniel described his experiences: “…so I started doing exactly what I said I wasn’t going to do—getting heavy into alcohol.” After having his own children his drinking and violence with their mother escalated and he remembered a turning point: “Immediately it hit me…Christ! I’m getting like my dad…I had resolved when I was younger I was never going to be like my father.” Similarly, Kanasa, who was placed in a White foster home as a toddler, told of reconnecting with family on the reservation and experienced “drinking to be Indian.” His story was filled with conflicting loyalties and aspects of “Indian-ness” in identification with, and eventual rejection of, the “drunken Indian” stereotype.

During the interviews, it became apparent that alcohol is highly symbolic of destruction, colonization, and foreign invasion. It “takes over,” and the people themselves become something different. It prevents them from being “human beings.” A theme across the sample was that alcohol is not only a symbol/artifact of colonization, it is a protest to it. Each of the men, regardless of his level of traditional knowledge, understood alcohol as an artifact of colonization.

… the reason we have so much domestic violence on the reservation is because of alcohol, because of sex, because of not understanding what a man and a woman’s responsibilities are…I believe greed and control is the biggest factor for our condition…The non-Indian was the cause of it. They say the West was won…but I believe it was won by IW Harper and Jim Beam [whiskeys] and things like that. (So-Say)

But then they brought alcohol around here…I think when they brought it up to this reservation that’s when they really got violence you know. Because I don’t think they did that a long time ago to the woman. Until alcohol came along…(Skin)

The men had a clear sense of the negative stereotypes of themselves as “drunks” and the “savages the books made us out to be” (Kanasa). Additionally, they had a sense of the roles men held historically. Their stories included struggles and challenges with trying to define their roles in contemporary reservation life. The term “warrior” was used so frequently in the preliminary fieldwork and early interviews that the question “What does it mean to be a traditional warrior?” was included. Warrior was a complex construct that included the abstract ideal, concrete behaviors, and ways of being. Themes that resonated within and across the sample were that the warrior protects and preserves the culture, individual and tribal rights, the environment, and individuals within the tribe and family. Notably, none of their responses combined “warrior” with physical violence.

I think it’s sobriety and the way of life. A warrior today is not the same as what a warrior was last week, or last month or last year—or five hundred years ago. A warrior today is a whole different context—and I am speaking from the context that we’re intelligent human beings. We are intelligent. We know that violence—and we know that war—is not good for our health. (Wa-Ni)

Although not all of the men identified themselves as traditional warriors, they all identified as “traditional” or “becoming more traditional” in terms of cultural identification—regardless of where they lived, their roles in the community, and their apparent level of knowledge and exposure to cultural traditions. The three youngest men in my study, all Men in Transition, reported they were in the process of seeking out traditional Elders and mentors to connect deeper with their Native identity. The most traditional men expressed they wanted to “educate” non-Native communities to combat negative stereotypes and preserve their culture.

It is particularly important to understand the social context in which these responses were generated. The use of the word “traditional” is in no way a unitary construct with clear or agreed-upon definitions. In these narratives when the participants describe themselves as “traditional,” this is a means of presenting a culturally and socially sanctioned self that is idealized as a Native American identity. When this term is used, it is often a means of dis-identifying with the dominant culture. In this community, over the last several hundred years, it is understood that one cannot be “traditional” and use alcohol.

“Human being” was a term across the sample that was frequently used in conjunction with “warrior.” These terms represented a state of spiritual and social development in which one is living in harmony with traditional tribal values. The values included humbleness, humility, consistency in words and actions, sobriety, education, and reciprocity. Colonization is referenced as not allowing the people to be “human beings,” and alcohol is referenced as preventing people from becoming “human beings” again. The Elder So-Say states: “And after 30 years of drinking, I had to go back to my Elders and ask the Medicine man how I could be an Indian again. He laughed at me and said, ‘You are an Indian, but what you have to become again is a human being.’” In my study, alcohol provided a solution to a problem. In the narratives, it justified and explained the major discrepancies and contradictions between the men’s social idealized images of themselves as “traditional” Native men and their personal behaviors, problems, and lived experiences with IPV.

Perceptions of IPV

The men were asked to define and describe “domestic violence” in their lives and in the community as well as a number of open-ended questions regarding their perceptions of IPV. They described IPV most often in non-gendered terms as “two people fighting,” and all believed that the number of incidents is “growing not shrinking.” All of the men believed that it was not a problem before “alcohol came along” and that it was a “disease of the outside people” brought on by colonization. When asked to describe what had changed over time in their culture and in the community to account for the increasing violence, they cited alcohol as a key factor along with the loss of traditional cultural structures that may have mediated or prevented violence against women.

Loss of traditional cultural structures

The Elders had extensive knowledge of historical traditional social structures (e.g., the clan system, traditional tribal government) and expressed that the loss of these through the process of forced assimilation and contact with colonizing groups was the major cause of contemporary social problems of IPV and alcoholism. The Elders in the study linked both alcoholism and IPV to a loss of “a code” of social structures and values embedded within pre-contact culture that mediated conflict and prevented violence. In the Elder interviews, mourning of the loss of pre-contact culture is clear: “Today we don’t have the family structures—I believe that’s why we have so much drug use, alcoholism and domestic—because there is not family structure anymore. There is a code but that code has disappeared—the structure has been lost” (So-Say). Elder Wa-Ni emphasized traditional values of respect, balance, and harmony as keys to survival:

It’s a value system. Not the one of our mothers and fathers and uncles and grandparents or great grandparents lived in—when you mention culture it takes me mentally back to a time when the people were migratory. So it had to be before contact… and that value system there—that it was so strong that it held people together. You know their ethics if there was such a thing. Their relationship to one another and the environment. That’s where I go back. I like to think that people lived out of respect for one another. You respected not only the people you were around—but the environment you lived in equally. (Wa-Ni)

The younger men in my study, although not as knowledgeable about historic cultural structures as the Elders, also expressed the loss of traditional tribal family structure as a factor in IPV although their responses varied in length and complexity. The two youngest men, Bob and Joe, expressed that the presence of extended family structures was a factor in preventing violence in that a woman was protected by her male family members. When asked whether men were violent toward women in the past, Bob explained: “I don’t think so. I don’t know what they did back then…but I don’t think so. She had too many brothers and uncles and relatives.” For Joe, extended family provided a means for diffusing conflict by giving him space to “cool off” so that he could go back later to problem solve.

All the men in my study had a sense that gender roles were historically more flexible in tribal society than those imposed by colonization. Despite the loss of traditional cultural structures, which were both matrilineal and matrilocal, women in this reservation community have managed to maintain their roles and status within the tribe unofficially as mothers, aunts, and grandmothers and more recently officially as members of tribal government and leadership. Despite the history of imposed patriarchal structures, “grandmothers” (female Elders) continued to have great influence within the lives of traditional community members. Over the last several decades, women have reasserted their leadership positions within tribal government as well. The men believed that the nonhierarchal, flexible gender structure was better when it was more “equal.” “Years ago you were taught that you were supposed to look at women like she is on equal footing with you and you are not looking at a male–female relation. You’re just looking at one another and you’re human beings. Sexuality has nothing to do with that, and so we lived in a lot better society then” (Tom). “And we live in—regardless of what we think—we’ve made strides—we live in a male-dominant society. That’s not good. It’s not good at all” (Kanasa). Similarly, one of the youngest men in the study shared how he was trying to live with more balance in his own home:

I think [households] should be set up 50-50. I think a lot of it is communications, just talking things out. How things came to be the way they were and for the good decisions and the bad decisions. You can’t just point the finger at one person. Pretty much equal responsibility for everything. (Joe)

In a traditional Native American worldview, spiritual practices and beliefs are fully integrated into all aspects of life and are not viewed separately as “religion.” Although the men varied in their level of traditional tribal history and knowledge (and thus their responses varied in complexity and sophistication), all of their responses reflected an awareness that traditional spirituality and the resulting social structures valued women as “life-givers” or “givers of life.”

I would tell them that it’s morally wrong to do something like that [being violent against a woman or family member]. That you are defying your own culture by doing things like that. You’re hurting your people…Read some books learn about this. Learn about who the [Great Lakes tribal people] were. (Daniel)

“My belief is that any traditional man had uh, had uh—great respect for the woman. Because of, of her place. Her place in the nation. Her place in the home. Because she was the life giver” (Kanasa).

Because spirituality is integrated into all aspects of traditional tribal life, participants’ responses on traditional spirituality overlapped with themes of colonization and treating social problems by returning to traditional spiritual values. They believed that by educating other men on traditional tribal structure and values, they could reverse the effects of colonization. One of the youngest men in my study, a man in transition, expressed this point:

You know beating up women and slapping them around and calling them sluts and whores you know that’s a way of life. That’s the way it’s always been? But no! We have to change it back. We have to stop the clock. Change it back to the way it used to be. To being respectful to show the other people that we’re not the savages that the books made us up to be. We are respectful. We do have a culture that we want protected.

Our young men, they are always trying to be something that they are not. They are trying to take on somebody else’s character or culture. You know like gang bangers or something. They think to abuse their women or young girls it’s okay when it’s not. I think they need to come back and listen to the stories of the traditional Elders—that they have been through a lot of things and are living a good life on that good “red road.” (Kanasa)

During the interviews and in the stages of analysis, there were clear tensions and contradictions between what the participants said about women being “sacred” and “givers of life” and deserving of respect and their own reported past behaviors with violence against women. There were no questions addressing this contradiction or tension; however, the men appeared to have an awareness of this inconsistency as the narratives unfolded. They reconciled the idealized, culturally, socially sanctioned “traditional self” with their reported lived experiences through the symbolic and actual presence of alcohol. Linking problems with drinking with problems of violence against women (and men) provided a means to explain these contradictions.

IPV as an artifact of colonization

Across the sample, the men expressed the belief that IPV and alcohol were artifacts of colonization. Daniel stated “When you pick up the values of the outside people, you also pick up their diseases. And this is a disease that is frequently associated with the dominant society. When you go back and look at our old society you didn’t have them issues.” Tom grew up witnessing violence which became so severe that he was removed from his home and placed in foster care. He describes his perceptions about the role of colonization, the loss of traditional tribal roles, and the impact of colonial domination:

And the men, all of a sudden are losing this foothold to another culture. They may have seen—maybe he saw a White guy beating his wife, you know one of the military guys beating his wife—or something like that—and thought “Yeah, that’s okay.” I don’t know how it came about but I can see that when there was a change in civilization and the threat of your home being taken away…and all of a sudden the warrior that once was—this warrior that would go out and hunt—is reduced to nothing by this other culture…and you are living with your family and the next thing you know you are starting to beat—beat on your wife, your kids because of your own anger.

You know when you look back, prior to colonization and stuff like that, as far as I can remember, you didn’t have the alcohol thing, you didn’t have the drug abuse, you had you know people taking care of families. And that was a very important part of Native life back in those days. When we faced extinction, termination, wars, disease, poverty you know they starved us into submission…I think that’s when it started to change. (Tom)

For these men, alcohol and IPV are fused together with the loss of identity and cultural values brought on by colonization. When asked about why they think there is so much IPV in their community, the two men with the most violent histories explained:

Alcohol. The acceptance of alcohol and acceptance of that behavior—or the denial that goes with it. Denying that it’s happened. I think it’s gotten worse. I think there were, you know as society evolves there’s always different ethics that seem to rise to the top. Among Native people…we had our own way. And then we were a group abruptly stopped. You know. They just come in and say, “You can’t do this anymore—the way you’ve always been going. We want you to change and be this other person.” But then they really threw a curve ball at us when they threw in alcohol—you know on top of everything. So we really won’t know who the hell we are for another couple of generations. (KC)

But when they brought alcohol around here that’s…I think when they brought it up to this reservation that’s when they really got violence you know. Because I don’t think they did that a long time ago to the woman. Until alcohol came along. That’s what I think. (Skin)

Addressing the Problem of IPV

During the interviews, the Elders and participants were asked, “What should be done about domestic violence?” They offered opinions and insights into the ways in which the community should address this problem as well as shared their own healing journeys on which the sought help for their alcoholism and interpersonal violence. Across the sample, the men expressed that treating IPV through sobriety needed to happen from within the community by a return to traditional values rather than involving outside (non-Native) help and professionals. They also expressed that incarceration would make the problem worse. “It has to be something else that’s going to stop that behavior. And again it’s people not tolerating that in your community—that’s going to alter that behavior. Not jail. Jail might exacerbate that [the violence]” (KC). “By teaching about how to be true [Great Lakes tribal people]…going back to being more human beings. You know it all starts with spirituality and connection to the earth and your family members—what’s slowly eroded away here” (Wa-Ni). “Members of our society need to go back to what works. You know people can deny their own history. But our history is there for 10,000 years. The tribal societies lived in ecclesiastic harmony. If we go back and look at that and [ask], “Why did that work?” (Daniel).

The men who had participated in treatment by professionals indicated that it was a negative experience due to racial differences and issues of trust.

I never trusted them [the White counselors]. I never trust a White man—that’s why I went back to treatment three times…I was in treatment three times and that was with all White counselors. And those White counselors—they tried to make me cry because all those other people they would cry…but I was in there they try to break you down but they could never make me cry.

That’s why I went back to treatment three times. I finally went to Thunderbird. That’s where I worked on my alcoholism and my domestic…We always had these talking circles…we all shared…you have to get to know people and there is healing there. (Skin)

Joe, the other participant who had participated in formal treatment, explained the importance of racial and cultural differences in treatment: “It is really important to have Indian men in the group providing treatment ‘cause you can talk better to an Indian person than you can talk to a White guy, Black guy or Mexican. Because you know he’s an Indian he knows your culture and where you come from.”

So-Say, an Elder, had worked with sobriety and violence issue with a number of men in the community in traditional talking circles and ceremonies. He found that treatments that emphasized power and control issues in IPV was “out of tune” with traditional Native values:

I tell them…it isn’t a control thing. If you control something then you are not in tune. You should be in tune. You don’t have to control—controlling is like what you are already fighting. You try to control somebody. But if you are in tune with the Great Spirit—in tune with yourself—control doesn’t have anything to do with it. (So-Say)

The Elder So-Say facilitated many “healing circles” for men and women as a spiritual leader in the community. He expressed compassion and understanding of shame and the multigenerational problem of family violence:

But one of the things that I really try to do—I don’t try to embarrass the person—or make that person feel ashamed. I try to make that person feel that he is just one of billions—or thousands of people and that there is help—and just like anything else it can be treated. I believe in a spiritual way it can be treated.

You know, give them an example, show them. All they know is they have had their rough life—and it almost gets ingrained in them and they repeat what they’ve learned ever since they were young.

Each one of these men’s narratives contained stories of “turning points” and a healing journey toward sobriety and nonviolence. They all spoke about how traditional values, spirituality, ceremonies, and Elders played a significant role in helping them redefine themselves and change their behaviors. They believed that they can find solutions to these issues, provided that the Elders are allowed the freedom and autonomy to help the community. For each of these men, healing began at different ages and stages of life. The younger men in the study (Men in Transition) had most recently begun the journey to sobriety and better family relationships through identifying with traditional Elders and tribal values. Daniel tells about his “turning point”:

An Elder told me, “When you first picked up the bottle—when you started drinking…and you start staggering, you thought that was funny. That flag should have gone up IMMEDIATELY… people should always know if you drink or take drugs you are out of balance. There is something wrong because we always lived in perfect balance and harmony.” And that was a great turning point in my life—because I got to enjoy life then…got to see through that alcoholic fog that won’t let you experience the reality of things.

The Elders were down to earth and I could see that—humbleness and humility. It had a great effect on me…I think I’ve helped my people. I am an example of what can happen if you put the bottle down. (Daniel)

Others talk about the value of sweat lodges and talking circles for healing:

I was a very violent person until I became involved again with the culture…But if I go into a lodge, you know there are Indian people around there if I did something wrong you know or somebody died or something—that’s how I’d let my feelings out in the lodge. Its dark and no one is judging you. You just go in there and stay and it’s safe. There ain’t nobody going out and going around the reservation and saying “This guy was crying…or this”—you KNOW you are not supposed to do that. I’d go to a sweat before I’d go to an AA meeting. I used to go to AA meetings all the time until I started going to sweats. (Skin)

There is a different talking when you are speaking from the heart. I mean it’s very hard sometimes to do that…even very close people. The only time I liken it to…the only time we ever do that is when we are sitting in or coming out of a sweat lodge or we have a talking circle…it’s a whole different talk that they’re coming to. (KC)

I would share my story [in a talking circle or sweat]—I would tell them how I was violent first. You know tell them about how I was violent to all of these women—all these relationships I was in…Because they probably did the same thing that I did you know everybody has got anger problems. Then I would ask their story—if they would tell me their story. And I’d listen to them. I’d tell them how I’d become non-violent. I would tell them you don’t want to be violent around Indian children—because Indian children are precious…(Skin)

In traditional Native American cultures, stories are “medicine.” The Elders spoke frequently about how sharing traditional stories and their own stories of healing and sobriety were “medicine”—a method for helping others in the community. Additionally, the men shared that they participated in the study because they wanted their stories to be heard in the hope that it might help others:

If you told somebody you were in jail for beating up somebody—you know right away you could be ostracized…when maybe telling them that would also inspire them to maybe begin to speak from their heart. But everything in a [healing] context. If people want to begin to speak the truth, begin to open up—there aren’t any questions that it can be helpful. (KC)

KC concluded his interview with a story of forgiveness and healing.

We were at a ceremony. We had both stopped drinking and she had a pipe and I was getting a pipe. There were four of us going out [on a vision quest]. Up until this point we had not spoken to one another—I was [years ago] pretty violent with her. We sat down and we were lighting the pipe; we were saying the things we had to say. And she spoke from the heart and she says, “[KC] I just want you to know that I forgave you for all of those things.” I mean I could feel the weight being lifted off of me. And I spoke to her for the first time [since the relationship ended due to violence] and we’re now the best of friends. Once we sobered up, we were just two different people. (KC)

Discussion

My study explored IPV from the perspectives of Native American men from a single cultural community. This was a heterogeneous group with respect to age, level of education, statuses in the reservation and mainstream communities, level of cultural identification, and levels and types of violence in their personal histories. This heterogeneity is true for batterers in the general population as well (McHugh & Bartoszek, 2000). The narratives held themes of intergenerational family violence and dysfunction, alcoholism, racism, isolation, loss, deep grief, and remorse. However, each narrative also contained strong themes of healing and hope found through connecting with Elders, learning spiritual traditions, and strengthening cultural identity. These men believed that the serious social problems of both alcoholism and interpersonal violence could be solved through reconnecting with traditional tribal values and identity.

My preconceptions as a researcher when I began the study included the notions that men who identified as “traditional” in terms of identity and values would not have histories of IPV, whereas those with histories of violence would possess a more acculturated identity aligned with male-dominated patriarchal social values. This was not the case in that all the men in my study told me they were “traditional” and had histories involving IPV. The ways in which they reconciled the apparent conflict between their identities and histories was mediated through the overwhelming belief that using alcohol prevented them from being who they truly were as Native men.

All the participants believed that IPV is a serious and growing problem in the community for men and women and that it was not part of traditional, pre-contact society due to “codes,” family structures, harmony ethics, tribal values, and absence of alcohol. Alcohol was cited as the overwhelming cause or catalyst for IPV in their lives and in the community. In the general literature, this reflects a “disavowing theory” wherein personal responsibility is avoided and alcohol is blamed for the violence (Frieze & McHugh, 1992; Walker, 1979). However, caution should be exercised when interpreting this finding as merely “disavowing” because of the complex sociohistorical context of alcohol in Native American communities in which alcohol is both an artifact and an agent of colonization.

None of the current research questions referenced alcohol, but it was an overarching theme throughout the narratives and is highly symbolic. The men referenced their past and current relationship with alcohol when describing themselves. All the men expressed that one could not be “traditional” and use alcohol and that using it prevented people from maintaining their true cultural identities, from adapting to the realities of reservation life, and from being “human beings.” For at least the last 200 years in Native American communities, alcohol has been a religious, spiritual, and political idiom—a concept that is well documented in the literature (Arbogast, 1995; Duran & Duran, 1995; Garrett & Carroll, 2002; LaFromboise, Trimble,& Mohatt, 1995; McCormick, 2000; Schinke et al., 1988).

In terms of recovery, the men varied in terms of stage and length of time, but all believed that returning to traditional spiritual and cultural traditions were keys to sobriety and nonviolence. Prevention and intervention efforts that have focused on revitalization of traditional culture as a means for sobriety have supported this view. The men were replacing the assignment of alcoholic identity with a more positive view of themselves as “traditional” men. These findings provide support for current substance abuse and IPV treatments that emphasize traditional values and indicate that alcohol use and destructive drinking patterns should be addressed in the assessment and treatment of IPV. Participants in my study agreed that their own healing was initiated by their readiness to change and their sense of urgency about breaking negative drinking patterns and violence. The men expressed that this issue needs to be addressed from within the community by its members and that they already have the solutions and means to change if given “freedom” and “autonomy.”

Research Strengths and Limitations

Research on IPV within the Native American population has been historically poorly characterized and is not culturally specific. Most researchers working in this area agree that research needs to begin with tribal or community-specific populations. A strength of my study is that it is culturally and community specific as well as culturally sensitive and congruent with best practices for conducting research with Native American populations. However, because my study is purposefully culturally specific, its findings may not be generalizable to other Native American groups. Additionally, all men recruited for the present study were over 30 years old so that men from a younger cohort, who might be much less psychologically and developmentally reflective and who may have different experiences of acculturation and exposure to other cultural groups, might yield different perspectives.

Recommendations for those researchers and practitioners working on prevention or treatment initiatives in Native American communities need to recognize the importance of building on the strengths and value systems already imbedded in the cultures themselves. This includes involving Elders, spiritual leaders, and cultural practices as part of the healing initiatives as well as allowing the community to have a sense of ownership and responsibility for its evolution, continuation, and success. This is not only culturally sensitive and congruent, it is empowering.

Support for a Feminist Framework

Feminism encompasses the political, legal, sociological, and psychological views of women and their roles as individuals and as members of families and society. Feminist researchers not only revolutionized the way psychology and society conceptualize the problem of IPV but also were responsible for much of the widespread social and legal changes (such as criminalizing violence). Since the 1970s, views associated with IPV have shifted from it being a “male prerogative,” to being a female pathology, and now to being a recognized social problem (McHugh & Bartoszek, 2000). Additionally, there has been a proliferation of research on partner violence in the general U.S. population, and topics such as the prevalence of IPV and the characteristics and reactions of the victim have received extensive attention (Bowker, 1983; Browne & Williams, 1989; Dobash & Dobash, 1979; Frieze, 1979; Hotaling & Sugarman, 1986; Sugarman & Hotaling, 1989; Walker, 1979). Other topics, such as batterer typology and the reasons why men abuse their intimate partners, are less frequently, and only more recently, the focus of study (Anderson, 2002; Bent-Goodly, 2005; Hamberger & Hastings, 1988, 1991; Rosenbaum, Geffner, & Benjamin, 1997; Sanders, 1996; Sokoloff & Dupont, 2005).

A feminist theoretical perspective is particularly important in understanding IPV within Native American communities for two key reasons. First, a feminist perspective always considers the interplay between sociopolitical factors and phenomenological experience. Second, a feminist perspective on IPV has made significant contributions to our understanding of the role of power and control in IPV in Western cultures (Cazenave & Straus, 1990; Frieze & McHugh, 1992; Hamby & Sugarman, 1996; McHugh & Bartoszek, 2000; Walker, 1979).

Much can be learned about the impact of societal factors on interpersonal violence by examining societies that have undergone great social change. Native American societies have undergone radical social upheaval through ongoing genocide and colonization which has included replacing structures that mediated and prevented IPV to structures believed to contribute to violence against women such as unequal gender roles, notions of power and control, and traditions of patriarchy and misogyny. My small-sample qualitative study suggests support for an ecological feminist framework for understanding IPV in this community, and it may hold promise for examining this serious social problem in other Native American communities as well.

Support for Treatment Approaches

Numerous IPV prevention and awareness initiatives in reservation communities across the United States and Canada are utilizing the concept that IPV is “not traditional.” For example, Artichoker and Gullickson (2003) interviewed male and female Lakota Elders and spiritual leaders in South Dakota, most of whom identified IPV as a problem brought on by colonization. The slogan, “Domestic Violence is Not a Lakota Tradition—Women are Sacred” is currently being used as a means for raising public awareness of the problem on reservations and in nearby communities. Additionally, the White Buffalo Calf Woman Society utilizes traditional Lakota spiritual values as a means for addressing violence against women (Matamonasa-Bennett, 2011).

Beginning in the 1980s with the Domestic Abuse Intervention Programs, “Mending the Sacred Hoop” (2011) in northeastern Minnesota addresses IPV from a social change and traditional Native perspective. Formed as a nonprofit in 2006, this program now provides training and intervention approaches utilizing traditional Native values honoring and respecting women to tribal communities nationally. These approaches are supported by the perspectives and beliefs of the men who participated in my study, and this has important implications for Native men and women living off-reservation in urban areas as well.

Practice Implications

For researchers, clinicians, and policymakers, my article emphasizes the need to understand contemporary social problems (such as alcoholism and IPV) in Native American populations through each community’s historical, social, and cultural lens. Although there are commonalities that exist with experiences with genocide and colonization, each Native American nation has a unique cultural history that needs to be considered. Additionally, individuals within Native communities have unique perspectives on these issues.

Although assessing each Native American client’s level of acculturation is often recommended in the literature (Choney, Berryhill-Paapke, & Robbins, 1995; Chun, Organista, & Marin, 2003), my study highlights the challenges, complexity, and perceived desirability of identifying with Native versus mainstream culture. As Walters (1999) has suggested, implicit in acculturation research is the erroneous assumption that acculturation is synonymous with identity and is often used as a proxy for identity in research, possibly accounting for discrepant findings in the wellness literature. Participants in my study varied widely in terms of their lifestyle and knowledge of traditional culture yet all the men identified themselves as “traditional.” This point underscores that individuals be allowed to determine how they identify themselves and illustrates that identity attitudes and acculturative behaviors, although related, are separate constructs. Contrary to assimilationist models, these men buffer negative colonization processes through the internalization of positive “traditional” identity and externalize negative dominant (colonizing) group attitudes.

For therapists and practitioners, cultural competence and sensitivity are essential for effective treatment and to avoid harm. Mental health, substance abuse, and IPV treatments were oftentimes negative experiences for these men, and my study suggests that there are traditional values and healing opportunities within the traditional tribal culture that may mediate and prevent violence against women. Research and practice that builds on the inherent strengths of Native cultural values are both culturally sensitive and empowering to tribal people who have been marginalized and disenfranchised.

Conclusions

The men in my study chose to participate and discuss a painful, shameful topic because they wanted their stories to be heard. They were acutely aware that their perspectives and voices are missing or misrepresented in the dominant culture. From the Native American cultural standpoint, in which stories are sacred and considered “medicine,” their spoken words are equally as important as interpretation and analysis. For these men, there are important aspects of traditional cultural identity, values, and healing methods that have helped them with issues of interpersonal violence and sobriety. What was most striking is that these men envisioned a past before contact in which violence against women was rare and socially unacceptable. This vision provides a foundation from which to build a nonviolent future. They believed that as individuals, they had the power to change their community by becoming more “traditional.” Additionally, they believed that the community has the answers and keys for change—if they are given the freedom and autonomy to be “true Great Lakes tribal people.”

Many factors contribute to IPV in Native American communities. Clearly, an approach that considers the social and historical context in which this occurs is critical to understanding, treating, and preventing future violence. Although feminist models that examine power, dominance, and control, as well as beliefs and attitudes about women, may prove useful for analysis of IPV in Native communities, the historical context must always be considered.

The impact of colonization as a factor in IPV clearly warrants further attention. The constructs of intergenerational posttraumatic stress disorder and historical and disenfranchised grief may provide additional important frameworks for understanding not only IPV but other societal pathologies as well. The experience of colonization is not limited to indigenous people in North America, and it continues to occur in many subtle and overt ways to people today. Domination and the assumed superiority of one worldview or race over another have created great loss and grief for humanity. Perhaps it is through a deeper understanding of the ways in which societies create pathologies that are often viewed as “personal” or interpersonal problems, such as IPV, that we can begin to create positive social change, social justice, and healthy communities, families, and individuals.