How casinos and snubbing by the federal government have both divided and empowered Worcester's real natives

By Chet Williamson

Before the African Americans came, before the Italians and the Irish and the Polish — even before the first English settlers established themselves in a place they named Worcester — there were the Nipmuc, the Native Americans who inhabited what is now the city and suburbs of Worcester.

But for nearly a century, Worcester's natives were "hiding in plain sight" — assimilated and indiscernible to unaware eyes. Red, black, white — and everything in between — they were here, but unidentified, unrecognized.

No more — or so they would have it.

Beginning in 1980, the Nipmuc Indians banded together to seek federal recognition as a tribe. Such recognition would mean sovereignty, pride, grants and other entitlements and, yes, a shot at Massachusetts' current hot-button topic: casino money. In January of this year, however, the Nipmucs' latest appeal to the federal government for official recognition was denied.

The announcement arrived in the form of a letter sent by the United States Department of the Interior, addressed to two different — and somewhat estranged — Nipmuc tribes based in Worcester County. It essentially upheld a determination that was first made in 2004 by the federal Bureau of Indian Affairs.

David White of Brimfield, a Nipmuc Council member.

The petitioning bands that were declined federal acknowledgment were The Nipmuc Nation, also known as the Hassanamisco from Grafton; and the Chaubunagungamaug Nipmuck Indians, also known as the Webster/Dudley Band. The news of the final denial was bitter, especially since recognition had already been granted to the Nipmuc years earlier, only to be taken away.

In the waning days of the Clinton administration, the initial finding declared that the Nipmuc had met all criteria for federal recognition. That lasted a month. In January 2001, the new Bush administration put a freeze on all of Clinton's last-minute signings. Six months later, with the same documentation, it was determined that the Nipmuc now failed to meet such criteria.

Pride and the lure of casino money

In 2008, there are currently more than 250 tribes across the country pursuing federal recognition. Federal acknowledgement affords tribes the option for gaming opportunities. Translation: This could mean casinos, an option that tribes across the country are considering or have already established.

When Nipmucs filed their petitions, investors flew into the state looking to back the effort. Their agenda was not recognition. It was casinos. By most estimates, between $8 million to $12 million was spent on lobbyists, lawyers, genealogists, anthropologists, historians and a sundry of bureaucrats hired to seal the deal.

The crap-shoot of building a casino has been — as one tribal member called it — a "toxic solvent" for the Nipmuc people. With all this money floating around, many wanted a piece of the action. As another member put it, "People are people. Greed and avarice got the best of us." 

Kenneth (Winnisheik) White, a member of the Nipmuck Indian Council Inc. of Chaubunagungamaug, in the trophy room of his Sturbridge home.

In the end, not one acre of land has been acquired. They were told they are part of a "Nipmuc region." Not one piece of cultural patrimony has been returned to the community.

Some say the percentages were in the Nipmucs' favor for obtaining recognition until they got in bed with casino investors. Others rationalize it by saying they needed the financial support to pay all the costs associated with the endeavor. The result has created factional splits throughout the community. In many cases the fractures occurred within the same family. One group spells its name "Nipmuck," another without the "K." Each is a self-perpetuating and closed entity with very little interaction with the other.

The irony is that failure to achieve federal recognition happens at a time when the Nipmucs were in essence finding themselves — and one another. Casino money aside, the struggle toward federal recognition was first and foremost about tribal sovereignty, which is a means of indentifying oneself. Although it was held against them in the Bureau of Indian Affairs proceedings and seen as "massive recruitment drives" to fill their ranks, people throughout New England began retracing their bloodlines and finding themselves on the Nipmuc ancestral tree.

It could be argued that after 27 years, 70,000 documents presented and a trail of blood, sweat and tears, the Nipmucs are right back where they started. But out of the disappointment of denial comes a renewed sense of commitment and resolve.

Some members say, now that the casino investors have headed back to the hills, the tribes can really begin the process of healing, coming together as one unified community that shares the same cultural customs, heritage and identity. The people of the Webster-Dudley tribe have a rallying cry: "We exist."

It should also be noted that although they've been unable to gain federal recognition, both tribes are recognized by the commonwealth of Massachusetts.

So what's the next step?

Having exhausted the Bureau of Indian Affairs avenue, the tribes do have other options. They can either take their fight directly to Congress or by means of litigation through the courts. While still reeling from the decision, council heads from both tribes are meeting with each individual tribal membership to organize the next plan of attack.

Walter A. Vickers of Northboro (a.k.a. Chief Vickers, a.k.a. Chief Natachaman) of the Tribal Council of the Nipmuc Nation.

Ronald Donovan, tribal council chairman for the Chaubunagungamaug Nipmuc band of Nipmucs, says the next step could be the courts, but, "financially, to go to court we are talking about significant amounts of money, which we already spent to get to where we are now, which is where we began.

"Congress, in the past, hasn't been much help," he adds. "We've met with Ted Kennedy and others and there just doesn't seem to be a desire to get involved in it. But we still have to meet to discuss this."

The U.S. congressional/senatorial delegation for the Webster-Dudley district includes Congressmen Richard Neal, James McGovern, Edward Kennedy and John Kerry, who, according to state Rep. Paul Kujawski (D-Webster), have all gone on record in support of the Nipmucs.

When asked what recognition would mean, Kujawski says, "They would be receiving all tribal rights that other tribes would receive. That would include the right to casinos on their property."

Lost money and opportunity

Congress, as a federal entity, has absolute power in the matter of sovereign entitlements. The federal laws say that if granted, the state will not interfere with the self-government of a federally recognized tribe.

Kujawski, who is on record as being in favor of limited casinos in the state, says, "We continually lose at least a billion dollars in Massachusetts revenue to the expanded gaming facilities in Connecticut and Rhode Island."

He also notes that Massachusetts Gov. Deval Patrick has filed a bill seeking to establish three casinos across the state. "The issue at this point is talked about but there is nothing that has been voted on. But the speaker of the House [Salvatore DiMasi] evidently does not have an appetite to approve any of that."

Donovan says that while there have been casino investors willing to back the tribe, "there has never been a positive vote from the Chaubunagungamaug to go in the casino direction. They have approached us," he admits. "I think a lot of people in our tribe were [considering] it .... When someone is waving a check in their face, it's pretty hard for someone who has never had a lot to vote no. But as far as pursuing it, no — nor, have we ever voted to have one."

The letter of denial was delivered to the Nipmucs in late January and signed by David Bernhardt of the Department of the Interior. In rejecting the decision, Donovon says, "I think that the regulation and criteria is pointed in the direction of Western and mid-Western tribes. They are pointed toward the bigger tribes where they had all of that land.

"With the Nipmuc nation, on the East Coast, the settlements that were here already made it pretty difficult for the Indians. The white man would come in and encroach on the land. He would take the land. It was never fair. The sales of the land are suspect. I think we could follow that path in the courts."

After numerous appeals of the Bush administration's decision that overturned Clinton's decisions, the 2004 denial determination was announced by Principal Deputy Assistant Secretary of Indian Affairs Aurene Martin who, on the same day, declined to acknowledge both groups. It was determined that the "Nipmuc Nation" did not meet four of the seven mandatory requirements. The Webster-Dudley Band fell short by three criteria (See sidebar).

A joint statement, issued by both tribes at the time of the 2004 decision, read: "This is wrong. We have fought for decades through every imaginable obstacle for this long-withheld recognition, despite our people tracing back thousands of years and recognition by the commonwealth for more than 300 years."

As for what action the Hassanamisco will take, in a "statement to media" Walter Vickers, who is recognized by its band as its chief, stated: "The Nation's tribal council is committed to pursuing recognition, continues to believe that it is legally entitled to federal recognition, and will continue to pursue all measures to ensure its success in this important quest."

Vickers, who is on record as saying the Bureau of Indian Affairs got the facts wrong, said that the tribe met all the criteria in the Clinton administration.

"Then when Bush got in there he turned it around because of a letter given to his chief of staff by Connecticut Attorney General Richard Blumenthal," Vickers says. "He said that we weren't a tribe. That was the first time in history. We are recognized in Massachusetts but we are not a tribe in his eyes."

Financial backers with casino ties

When asked what federal acknowledgement means to him, Vickers said, "People get the wrong impression of recognition. That's a right for us. We have the right to seek recognition. Every time you speak of recognition, all they can think about is a casino. Long before casinos, I was looking for recognition. It was certainly not to build a casino. We were looking for something for our people. We were looking for education. We were looking for housing, medical assistance."

Vickers, however, admits that investors did work with the Nipmuc Nation: "Now of course, spending so much money, we needed a backer. It brought us into the casino ring."

Press reports cite Lyle Berman and Minnesota-based Lakes Entertainment as the backers for the tribe. In a March 5 interview with The New York Times Berman said that he makes no apologies for helping (to the tune of $4 million) the Nipmuc Nation in its effort.

He also noted that he saw his company as providing a service to the tribe by offering assistance in the process.

"There's no question we make money," Berman is quoted as saying. Adding, "That's the American way. We see nothing wrong with that."

Although he didn't cite Berman by name, Vickers said, "We had a backer. He cut loose. I don't blame him. I wouldn't back somebody up that I didn't think was going to get it."

The effect of money and tearing apart a people

Tribal leaders from both camps admit that people started to separate when the casinos entered the picture. Some say it was because the money corrupted the process.

"That was the big cause of the split and separation with our people in general," says David "Tall Pine" White, a tribal member of the Webster-Dudley Band. "With this whole casino craze and big investors coming in and throwing big money out there, enticing us with big dollars — that was the big thing. Unfortunately, our own people were greedy as well. It hurt the group as a whole."

"The Hassanimiscos had different criteria to fill their tribal rolls," says Kenneth "Kind Warrior" White, a tribal elder of the Webster-Dudley Band and David's father. "We felt that we were going to run into trouble if we stayed that route. So we broke off. We've had criteria for our tribal roll and we've never changed it. It's never been denied by anybody. They have always been intact.

"Unfortunately, when the Nipmuc Nation began their purge, they kicked people out of their tribal roll. Some then started little tribes of their own. That's why there's so many around now. You had all these bona fide Nipmucs with no place to go."

Vickers supports his position by saying, "When we did a genealogy search, a lot of people couldn't be traced back to the ancient tribe. "Some of them have the same name as I do. We may be from the same family, but if Walter Vickers married somebody else of a different tribe, then he wasn't Nipmuc. He was Narragansett or Pequod or whatever.

Larry "Spotted Crow" Mann says he voluntarily left the tribe along with others, organizing their own band, the Historical Nipmuc Tribe based in Monson. Vickers, he says, asked him not to leave, but he and a few others did not like the decisions being made and decided to go it alone.

"What happened was there was criteria set by the tribal council themselves. Many of [the requirements] were not set by [the Hassanamisco], but by the lobbyists and lawyers and backers who were funding the tribe's bid for federal recognition. The end result would be a casino, which many, including myself and more of the traditional people, did not want or see as something viable for our people.

"We said to the Hassanamisco, my cousins up there and Chief Walter ... they were at the nucleus of all the problems. I told them, ‘When you chopped blood Nipmucs off your roll, you caused strife within the community, you made people unwelcome.

"After the money was spent you still didn't achieve your goal. That's the biggest insult. It was all that for naught. We have nothing to show for it — in terms of a new community center a new health center, tribal lands — what was the point?"

Vickers admits, "We have been shooting ourselves in the foot for years."

"Everybody wants to be Indian"

David White says the Nipmucs have faced division and dissention for centuries. He notes that in an effort to assimilate into American society, people were separated along lines of color and the tribe went underground to preserve its customs — "hiding in plain sight."

"If you ask me, either you are or you aren't," White says. "You can't say my arm is Indian but my leg is white and my other leg is black. A lot of people who are Indian, you would never know it by looking at them. Some have blonde hair and blue eyes. We have mixed in with other cultures.

"Back in the days of my father and grandfather, they had to put up with a lot of bigotry, racism and oppression. A lot of our people wouldn't even bring up the word ‘Indian.' It's kind of ironic, now with the casino craze, everybody wants to be Indian. It's not about that. It's how you live your life. You honor your culture, whether you are Irish or African."

Cheryl Toney is a Nipmuc from Worcester. In 1998, she became a member of the state's Commission on Indian Affairs. She holds a bachelor's degree in history from Howard University and is the chairwoman of the Genealogy Committee for the Nipmuc Nation. She has written extensively on the history of the tribe.

"We all come from the same people," Toney says. Most of the people that live in Worcester, our ancestors came here in the early 1800s and stayed. They settled mostly around Beaver Brook. Some around where Plumley Village is right now. Those neighborhoods were really people-of-color neighborhoods."

Her cousin is Al Toney Sr., a sergeant and 35-year veteran with the Massachusetts State Police.

"What happened with the Toney family is my great-great-great grandmother was a Nipmuc. She lived in Grafton," Toney says. My great-great-great grandfather was a slave coming through the area. She liked him and purchased him from the slave holder and that's how the Toneys came around."

Commenting on the division within the community, he says, "I don't think that the Nipmucs would have any problem seeking recognition if it wasn't for the casino issue."

Cheryl Toney says, "We are all the same people. We are not a separate group. Every community has people who want to go a different way. That's just the way life is. Not everybody is a Democrat or Republican. I think people need healing. I think you just have to give people time." o