An article published by the Los Angeles Times (June 25) caught my attention. It was discussing how Mexican immigrants in Los Angeles are feeling a stronger sense of disenfranchisement, racial bias, socio-political harassment, oppression, and marginalization. [cite the article here]
‘Scared to be brown’: California residents fearful amid immigration raids
“The heightened fear that kicks in for those “driving while Black” is widely known. But the recent immigration sweeps in Southern California have underscored how much of an issue skin color — and all the circumstances that attach to it — is for Latinos as well” (The LA Times, June 25).
The article frames the current state of affairs facing immigrants in the greater Los Angeles area in light of the recent ICE enforcement and arrests. A community familiar with open oppression and bigotry, the Latino/a/Latinx/Latine communities in Los Angeles have found themselves in the crosshairs of political unrest along with abject media attention. Those supporting these communities have themselves come into physical contact with authoritarian power. Counter to these protests, the objectified Latino/a/Latinx/Latine community finds themselves oppressed in other arenas. The profiling of “illegal” immigrants has come under scrutiny, along with the use of force and wide-ranging arrests. Supporters not of Latino/a/Latinx/Latine heritage are only able to understand the context and lived realities of oppression as an outsider. Those in the “brown communities” contend with physical, mental, economic, educational, and environmental insecurities.
“This Is What Democracy Looks Like, To Me”
To contextualize the issue of Native identity, an op-ed authored by Levi Rickert published in Native News Online discusses the “No Kings” movement (June 14, 2025), calling the phrase, “This is what democracy looks like to me”, and reframing it through an active Indigenous lens. In doing so, Levi Rickert situates this protest chant as a vehicle for decolonization. Rickert is not limiting the attention and importance of this contemporary phrase. Rather, Rickert re-reads the protest motto as an active space for Indigenous decolonization.
Rickert’s analysis is largely framed around the Grand Rapids area. The analysis works across the country, as the points are neutral in location, disciplined in visibility, and direct in tone.
“[I]n the Pacific Northwest, Washington state House Speaker Pro Tempore Chris Stearns, a tribal citizen of the Navajo Nation, attended a No Kings rally in Auburn, Wash. He carried a sign that read: “No Kings: Remember Magna Carta 1215” — a reference to the document in English history that limited the power of the monarchy and established the principle that even the king was subject to the law…At the Auburn rally were tribal members wearing ribbon skirts. One Native woman’s sign read: “No One is Illegal on Stolen Land”…This is what democracy looks like to me” (qtd in Native News Online, June 16).
These examples outline a discourse of protest to the visible actions by the current U.S. administration. The point of their use by tribal members extends the depth of the phrases. When promoted by tribal entities, the lines of protest speak out against assimilation and termination policies.
The vernacular expressed is a pointed critique against the history of colonialism waged on Native Nations in the U.S. When reading these signifiers of protest, they are framed against the realities of colonialism, thus giving a limited voice to these statements. Intended by non-Native protesters as articulations against governmental suppression, the popular phrases speak to a post-colonial identity. These signifiers need a colonial apparatus to contest, thus limiting their ability to cultivate life beyond the firm hold of colonialism.
Post-coloniality cannot exist absent a colonial posture. Post-coloniality will be visible in the arena of colonialism. The modernist/colonial doctrine of oppression is founded on man’s privilege to control and dictate their own lives and the surrounding socio-political contexts. Post-coloniality is a limited articulation seeking a path toward liberation. When Rickert uses the phrase, “This is what democracy looks like to me,” he moves the needle away from post-coloniality to decoloniality.
Critical feminist theorist, Cheryl Suzack, in her article “Indigenous Feminism In Canada” (2015) defines the importance of self-determination and sovereignty through a reading of oppressive patriarchal structures systematically employed to marginalize and eradicate Indigenous feminism. Suzack’s “active silence” is a critical tool she constructs to present and lay the foundations for Indigenous feminist agency. Taking the point of historic silence by Indigenous women, from a traditional position of culture, not as one of suppression, “active silence” promotes Indigenous feminism to invert the misunderstanding of Indigenous female silence as one to emphasize their collective actions against oppression and, for feminism, misogyny. Engaging this critical theory as agency for the large Native/Indigenous identity, Native/Indigenous Peoples can flip the script on institutionalized racism and historic erasure policies. Cultural misunderstanding and colonial ideology are corralled by the limitations of their use. Active silence is not a reactionary or resistance position. Active silence is a discipline of decolonialism experienced outside of colonial and post-colonial borders.
Being Indian Is Still A Crime
“Indigenous people questioned about immigration,” CBS News, January 2025.
This video exemplifies the realities of racism that exist against Native Peoples. The current American administration follows along these same lines of authoritarian dominance, with heightened engagement. This means, Native/Indigenous Peoples are systemically aligned to fall within the umbrella of target communities to arrest, suppress, and forcibly dominate.
“Racial Profiling Native Americans At Colorado State University,” Get Ready Productions, May 2018.
This event further articulates the depth of xenophobia against Native/Indigenous Peoples. The xenophobic 911 caller did so based on the premise of “Living While Being Red.” The targeted Native students were wearing black, apparently a signifier of civil unrest. The authorities specifically weighed heavily on their presence to convey fear and power over the Native/Indigenous students who were misidentified as being “Mexican.” A crime to visit a college campus for future attendance? The only “crime” the Native youth committed, based on this discriminatory event, is “Living While Being Red.”
“Native American brothers invited back to CSU after racial profiling claims,” KRQE News, May 2018.
Native artist Lyla June held a TED TALK where she frames the point of what it is to “look” and “experience” being Native/Indigenous in the 21st Century. Is this a crime unto itself? Or is this the colonial logical extension of assimilation and termination policies?
3000-year-old solutions to modern problems, Lyla June, TEDxKC, September 2022.
Qualifying the context of the lived experiences of Native Peoples in the contemporary space of the 21st century, the “No Kings” protest episode gave the large non-Native American populist two views of an active silent voice(s) residing in the current socio-political American fabric. One view carries support, the other positions opposition. Both agree on a post-colonial doctrine and the limited liberty of traditionally marginalized majority-minority communities. When narrated by a critical Native/Indigenous reading, the “No Kings” protest campaign is less on post-colonialism and large on pointing out a decolonial tribal ideology. The active silence (Cheryl Suzack, 2015) of the “No Kings” episode prompts transitional justice practices (Suzack, 2015) which are free of token tolerance toward involved decolonial representation. For contemporary Native identity, self-determination, and sovereignty, the “No Kings” point in time was a vehicle for Native Nations to re-state to the American legislative and administrative oppressive, autocratic, imperialistic colonial ideology that Native/Indigenous Peoples are present and not being qualified by their historic suppressive, exclusitory, and oppressive mechanics.
Native/Indigenous Peoples experience realities through active decolonization. The “No Kings” marker was a large-scale broadcast of Native/Indigenous decoloniality. To update Rickert’s reading of the timely protest mantra, it can be read, “This is what decoloniality looks like to us.”
Alan Lechusza Aquallo, Co-founder, Managing Editor
Indigenous Hip Hop Business Association (IHHBA)
