Dr. Andrea Garcia

The Challenge 

American Indians and Alaska Natives (AIAN) in LA County experience disproportionately high rates of homelessness and lower rates of housing retention, and they still remain undercounted and underreported by mainstream data systems. Despite a Federal trust responsibility to provide health care, education, housing, and beyond, the US government is in breach of these contracts as evidenced by the deplorable underfunding of these systems and poor outcomes. While the long game of building people power and increasing voter participation may someday impact these issue areas, the reality is that we do not have enough time to wait for these larger systems and legal frameworks to figure themselves out. In some ways, we have relied too much on Federal powers to set the precedent (for obvious reasons such as the Federal trust responsibility and funding), and perhaps we have not fully explored the opportunities we have at the local level. Where do opportunities lie to dig into the strengths and nimbleness of our own systems and pair/amplify those with the strengths of the communities best suited to care for their stakeholders? 

The Inquiry

“How can cities and counties forge meaningful relationships with American Indian and Alaska Native communities, particularly as it relates to houselessness?” 

My proposed plan was to identify a community advisory board (CAB), undertake a landscape analysis and literature review, partake in interviews and site visits, and share as much information as possible with stakeholders along the way. 

I was able to stick to the process that I laid out for myself, but in true Stanton fashion, my inquiry evolved. I was overly specific with focusing solely on “houselessness,” whereas my research, interviews, and site visits instead challenged me to think more deeply about what “home” means to Indigenous people. In short, I learned that homelessness for Indigenous people includes historic displacement homelessness, contemporary geographic separation homelessness (as a result of colonial control), spiritual disconnection homelessness, mental disruption homelessness, cultural disintegration and loss homelessness, relocation and mobility homelessness, going home homelessness, and more. Thus, with this more expansive lens, it was easier to see the ways in which communities reclaimed control of those domains in defining “home” for themselves, and how a “home,” not a house, can set the stage for true intergenerational healing. 

My journey yielded numerous lessons along the way. One early and haunting insight was how colonization seems to share a playbook on a global scale. Things like dispossession and removal, separation of families, stealing of children, and assimilation and relocation policies were eerily similar across countries. And yet, relationships with government and reconciliation varied widely. I learned that Canada- and US-based tribes are probably better politically positioned in their sovereignty, whereas a country like Australia seems relatively behind in their formal relations with its Aboriginal people. Regardless of potential “advantages” in treaty relationships or other forms of government interactions, every country had abysmal outcomes across the board for its Indigenous people. This confirmed my desire to focus on local strategies while understanding, though, that the larger context is always a piece of the puzzle. 

As my inquiry continued, I learned the value of partnerships, compromise, and just how difficult it is to take care of communities within systems of capitalism and white supremacy. Shining examples seemed to leverage creativity, boldness, and willingness to have difficult conversations. I saw some very successful examples of partnership that probably took decades to build mutual trust and respect. It is such an obvious conclusion, but relationships were a central part of the stories I witnessed, as was the self-determination of the Indigenous entities demanding space and doing the work. 

Regardless of whether my travels were overseas or within the US, one sobering contrast I noticed is that unlike these other places, Indigenous people in LA have been erased—in a visual sense, through media, and through all of our systems, including education. This is likely rooted in the history of local tribes experiencing colonization three times over—first under Spain, next under Mexico, and finally under the US—and compounded through a failed Relocation era of policymaking. Even though our local systems have been making more efforts to be more inclusive of Native American folks within recent years, the road ahead is still long. 

As my last action for the fellowship, I gathered my local community and systems partners to ask what home means to them (as well as report back on what I learned over the course of my fellowship). The community was generous and bold in sharing their dreams and drawing the connections between belonging, culture, and traditional knowledge to health and healing. It is this vision of home that our partner organizations will do our best to fulfill and craft an advocacy agenda around. 

Where I Ended Up 

I’ve come away with a deep interest in cultural districts as a means to seed our collective vision of home. This is very much about placemaking, not the idea of “placekeeping” that most cultural districts tend to lean into. By design, there are not any Native American ethnic enclaves in LA, and obviously no reservations. While this vision seems even more daunting given the lack of existing cultural infrastructure, there couldn’t be a better time to start given conversations around Land Back reparations, more recent and intentional cultural district making in LA, and more community alignment. We’ll be tending very carefully to the seeds planted over these past couple years…