Voter turnout among Native American communities is growing — and California organizers are working to build a network of engaged young people throughout the state.
"I realized that it's not just presidential elections that define the lay of the land for my community, the state, the country," said Maya Sanchez, a youth organizer with California Native Vote Project. "There's local elections. There's people that we put in power that I actually could go and meet… this is where real change can happen today.”
The nonprofit, founded months ahead of the 2016 election, focuses on increasing political power in Native American communities throughout the state. Despite recent growth, Native American election participation nationally still trails the overall population and other ethnic groups.
“There are some of us out there that don't even believe in this voting system because of all the historical trauma that there is with the U. S. government,” Sanchez said. “We're trying to flip the narrative.”
Congress granted U.S. citizenship to Native Americans in 1924, but until 1957 some states barred them from voting. Restrictive voting laws, and a lack of polling sites and broadband access in tribal areas are among the biggest obstacles that continue to disenfranchise Indigenous voters.
Native youths have driven civic engagement nationally during recent elections. One 2018 poll found more than half encouraged their friends and family to register or vote and about 27% volunteered for a candidate or participated in voter outreach. California has one of the highest rates of eligible Indigenous voters in the country.
The California Native Vote Project coordinates an annual series of workshops for young people about topics ranging from advocacy to mental health. This year the Native Youth for Justice Organizing Academy ended with an in-person gathering in downtown Los Angeles that mixed activism with artistic practices including beading and printmaking.
“Our activities are grounded in cultural revitalization,” said Youth Organizing Coordinator Liam Walsh. “Making sure that the youth have access to cultural resources so that they can practice it and reaffirm their own identity as an American Indian or an Indigenous person.”
LAist spoke with a few of the youths who participated about their relationship to voting and the civic, community, and social issues they feel most passionate about. Their responses have been lightly edited for length and clarity.
Panchebe Manahuiatlaka, 20, is Diné and Mexica. He lives in Hacienda Heights and is a student at Mt. San Antonio College.
“I honestly believe it's more important to watch out for our local elections because those impact our community a lot more than the presidential elections … I don't care about the Democrats or Republicans because all the way in the beginning they were the people who enslaved our people, continued Manifest Destiny, had these broken treaties, these broken promises. Maybe we should be more aware of what's happening politically, so our people can be educated. Instead of maybe focusing so much on the presidential [election], we can work our way up from local.”
Manahuiatlaka says the Academy has helped connect him to a community.
“There are people out there who care for me and I think that's what a lot of youth are missing out [on]. Sometimes we don't have those communities or we don't have an outlet or someone to vent to, or a best friend. Being in like these communities or these spaces grounds me and humbles me. I'm happy to be a part of this community and grateful to be myself.”
Tlakatl Atl, 18, is K'iche, Huichol, Mexica, and Filipino and grew up in the San Fernando Valley. They are studying dance at Cal State Long Beach.
“I'm very excited to vote … I still feel like it's important to still have Native communities vote because … we didn't get the right to vote until later in time, and I think it's important for the youth now, this new generation is seeing what's needed to be done.”
Atl says they are focused on issues like climate change, affordability and homelessness. Growing up, Atl moved often, sometimes couch-surfing or living in the family car.
“No one should be homeless on stolen land, first off, but also, I think it's just incredibly hard to see our own relatives living on the streets when they should be able to be living in territories that belong to them specifically and their families and their ancestral families.
"The misplacement is really discouraging sometimes to be able to feel like, [Where] is there a place I can rest? But I know that someday there's going to be a time where we're going to be able to live on our traditional homelands.”
Joey Gonzales, 20, is Chumash and Chicano and is an actor and content creator in Huntington Beach.
“Looking at my community and seeing the diversity not being shown in film and television. A lot of the times we see in film and media, the stereotypes of Native people is the long thick black hair and dark skin tone, and it's always during colonial times … Whenever I see my community, I see beauty that's not often represented correctly, so I want to be able to do that and represent all of my relatives in media.”
Gonzales says he wants to use his platform to spread the word about voting this year.
“When I grew up, we didn't really have our family members going out and voting. They just really didn't think that it mattered. So, growing up, I thought the same thing. Like, my vote isn't gonna make a difference. But as I started seeing polls and statistics showing the numbers of Native people voting or Latino people voting— it was low, I was like, ‘OK, my voice does matter, so my vote matters.’”
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L.A.’s Indigenous population is the largest of any city in the U.S. These communities include:
- People whose ancestors lived in what is now Southern California, for example, the Gabrielino/Tongva and Tataviam
- Native Americans from other parts of the country
- Indigenous diasporas from regions around the world including Latin America and Oceania
Junie Ponce, 19, Chicane and Diné and is concerned by how gentrification and rising rents are reshaping their Echo Park neighborhood.
“I've seen some people struggle with houselessness and like struggling to get back on their feet, whether it was by trying to apply to Section 8, which is an extremely long process, or trying to get into shelters. It's a bit of a tough thing to witness.”
LAist asked how they’re starting to think about what their role might be in changing things.
“That's definitely a hard question, but I guess finding more spaces where I can talk about these problems, and bring them to people in powers’ attention, and let them know that these are really big things that are really impacting our communities.
"I've seen [voting] in a new light. Learn the system so that we can use it to our advantage, which is something I'm trying to bring back to my family."
At this year’s Academy, they led a panel about mental health.
“I've been meeting people and talking about this work and they're telling me I'm doing such great things for my community, and it's like I didn't even realize. So that's something I'm still working on acknowledging.”
Heslatkala-kaluluka Layfield, who also goes by Kalu, 21, lives in Sacramento and is Nomtipom Wintu and Lakota.
“I don't live on the rez, but when I go to the rez to dance, there's been a noticeable neglect of the elders there, and blatant disrespect, definitely. So I just want more support for elders, medical, financial, especially, because they're old, so they need all the support they can get, especially from us younger people who are very able-bodied.”
“Keeping it light and keeping it fun is definitely really important because sometimes organizing can be kind of like a grueling, kind of a monotonous process and you don't always want to be so serious in what you do. You want to take what you're doing seriously, but you don't want to burn yourself out.”
