At the university’s current pace, some of its campuses could take more than a decade to finish repatriation.
Earlier state audits in 2019 and 2021 reached similar conclusions. They pointed to weak oversight, delayed planning and limited funding to make good on repatriation promises.
They didn't believe me when I wrote about Indian slavery (First Contact) in 2000, since there was nothing out there to read, for me and you, ordinary people. But remember, it was in their archives, like scalp bounties. They just didn't bother to write about it. And get this: I am reading LEGACY OF VIOLENCE and hidden in the back of the book, in the notes, is the British hid and destroyed evidence of their crimes (ABOVE PHOTO) ... oh really? As if we had not noticed...
WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?
I think this question every time I watch a zoom lecture and some new book or person is rewriting history!
Not writing about it - that is/was a crime against humanity - how "supposed historians" hid, deleted or erased what happened - globally I might add... we should not forget it - and how the ANCIENT EMPIRE killed across continents. How long? Forever!
It's a pattern you see, once it emerges. Once you see it, you can't unsee it.
KEEP IN MIND: THEY DID NOT WANT YOU TO KNOW.
Dr. William S. Kiser is a Las Cruces native and currently a professor of history and department chair at Texas A&M University-San Antonio. He spoke about his latest book, “The Business of Killing Indians: Scalp Warfare and the Violent Conquest of North America” on April 23 at NMSU’s Branson Library. Scott Brocato recently spoke with Dr. Kiser about the talk and his book.
Scott Brocato:
First, give us an overview of what your book covers.
Dr. Willam S. Kiser:
The
book itself covers about 250 years of North American history, and it
spans geographically everywhere from French Canada in the 16 and 1700s
to Mexico in the 1800s to Gold Rush California, mid-nineteenth century
Texas, the British colonies. So it's actually very expansive in scope
with respect to what I call “scalp warfare” or Indian scalp hunting. It
was a practice that I'm sure we'll get into more here in a few minutes,
but a practice that was very prominent across the continent as a form of
colonial conquest. My talk itself at NMSU (April 23) is going
to focus exclusively on scalp warfare in the southwest borderlands, so
it will not be nearly as broad as the book.
Scott Brocato:
Well, let's go ahead and talk about scalp warfare. Explain what it was and when and where it began.
Dr. Willam S. Kiser:
So
“scalp warfare” is, it's a term that I coined myself in writing this
book to describe a specific type of violence and conflict that commonly
occurred across North America between various Indian tribes and various
colonial groups. And of course, there are many forms of conflict between
natives and newcomers. Many of those fall within more traditional
frameworks of, you know, whether it's the British Army, the French Army,
the Mexican Army, the U.S. Army, and members of various tribes.
But scalp warfare was different in that it involved not professional armies, but it involved usually paramilitary operatives and even civilians who temporarily kind of set aside their normal daily activities or businesses and took up arms in small groups to track down, fight, and kill Indians who were viewed as enemies at the time. And there was an economic incentive behind this because they would take the scalps and oftentimes they could redeem those scalps for cash payments with the local governments that sponsored these types of actions. So it's a form of conflict and violence that proliferates over a three-century period, not in isolation, but alongside other more traditional conflicts between Indians and settlers.
Scott Brocato:
Focusing
on the mid-19th century, the Mexican states of Chihuahua and Sonora
implementing their bounty systems to monetize the killing and scalping
of Apache people as a strategy for conquest, why was this system
implemented about the Apaches? Why were they so hated?
Dr. Willam S. Kiser:
In
the case of the Mexican states of Chihuahua and Sonora and the Apache
tribe, there was a long-standing hatred between the two groups that went
back into the 1700s, and it revolved a lot around reciprocal raiding
and captive taking. For multiple generations, Apaches had raided
rancherias, haciendas in northern Mexico; and killed, plundered, and
taken women and children as captives, and then assimilated those
captives into their Apache tribe. At the same time, Mexican settlers
were doing the same thing to Apaches. So this was really a reciprocal
type of violence that bred a deep, deep animosity and hatred between the
two sides over many decades.
And by the time you get to the 1830s, the local Mexican governments in Chihuahua and Sonora--and again, this was done at the local level, not the national level in Mexico City--as a new strategy for their warfare against Apaches, they began passing laws that allowed for the payment of scout bounties to try to encourage civilians, in addition to the Mexican army and soldiers, to encourage civilians to go out and try to hunt and kill Apaches for profit. And the scout bounties that they implemented in Chihuahua and Sonora offered the equivalent of, in a lot of cases, an entire year of wages for the average Mexican worker at the time.
So there were windfall profits to be, you know, potentially to be gained by killing Apaches, and the scalps were used as the evidence scalp hunters actually called scalps receipts. They use this, I call the book The Business of Killing Indians, because a lot of the scalp hunters actually used business language and they treated it as a business to make money, the profit incentive. They would redeem the scalps, or what they called the receipts, in the state capital for the bounty money.
Scott Brocato:
There were even public celebrations about the slain victims, their scalps on display, for example, at a church.
Dr. Willam S. Kiser:
Yeah,
and that's a very common characteristic of scalp warfare across time
and place. In the case of northern Mexico specifically, in addition to
the economic incentives for taking scalps, there was also a performative
aspect, kind of like a martial masculinity, and it was also performing
racial hatred.
So the scalps were taken and then redeemed for the cash rewards, and then afterwards, the scalps would oftentimes be displayed publicly in these towns, sometimes on the plaza, sometimes in front of the church, sometimes across the front of the courthouse. Sometimes the scalp hunters themselves would, after receiving the cash payout, they would keep the scalps and they would decorate their houses with them. There are actual eyewitness accounts of scalp hunters who had scalps nailed to their front doors.
And this was a performative aspect, because these men were treated as celebrities and heroes in their local societies, and so displaying playing the scalps and celebrating it, was a way of sort of celebrating their victories over their native enemies. And it was a way of demonstrating their celebrity status in these frontier communities in really a very gruesome, macabre kind of way.
Scott Brocato:
When did scalp warfare begin to wane, in particular the warfare we're discussing between Mexico and Texas?
Dr. Willam S. Kiser:
With
respect to the Southwest borderlands, the scalp warfare begins really
in the 1830s. The first codified scalp bounty in Mexico is 1837, and it
continues to occur...there are certain time periods where it's more
prominent than others. It was very common in the 1840s and ‘50s. less so
in the 1870s and ‘80s, but the last known Apache scalp that was
redeemed for a bounty in Mexico was in 1886, and actually it was
September of 1886. And that's significant, because September of 1886 is
the same month that Geronimo surrendered to the U.S. Army, and the
Apache War is officially ended. So scalp warfare, in an official kind of
a sense, with respect to the Apache tribe, literally ended the same
month that the broader wars between the Apaches and the American and
Mexican militaries ended.
Scott Brocato:
What lessons
can be gleaned from learning about scalp warfare of the past? Do you see
any modern parallels--minus actual scalping--in terms of similar racial
animosity today?
Dr. Willam S. Kiser:
Certainly, the
racial animosities are there in different areas. In the book, I don't
really try to draw specific parallels or comparisons to current events
or examples of racial violence. But what I do try to do in the book is I
try to highlight the legacies of scalp warfare, because it was so
violent, so brutal, and rooted in such deep hatred, and the legacies in
particular for the victims with respect to indigenous oral traditions.
and oral histories.
So, for example, in the case of the Chiricahua Apaches, there's the oral traditions of the tribe, which hold that an Apache person who is killed will enter the afterlife in the same physical condition that they leave their earthly life. So what this means is that if an Apache is killed and then scalped, they are essentially doomed to an eternity in the afterlife in that defiled, humiliated condition. So scalp warfare--and that's the Apache example, but many tribes have variations of those oral traditions about an afterlife and the mutilation of the corpses--so scalp warfare has a sort of a spiritual, a traumatic impact, not just on the victims, but on their survivors as well. And that is passed down through oral histories and oral traditions in ways that I try to highlight, you know, sort of the continuity of that trauma.
And there are also other examples of, you know, the modern legacies of scalp warfare in terms of memorialization. For example, in Nova Scotia and Canada in the last decade or so, they've taken down several public monuments to former British governors who implemented scalp bounties back in the 1700s. So you start to see it's less prominent and certainly less common, but there are memorials and monuments across Canada, the United States. celebrating perpetrators of scalp warfare, that there's kind of been a reckoning with that in modern times, similar, I guess, in some ways to Confederate monuments, but on a much, much smaller scale.
If you want to read my book ATROCITY: ALMOST DEAD INDIANS, I shared what I could find about scalp bounties - and it was shocking...
Professor Vanessa Ambtman Smith from the Department of Geography and Environment and the Indigenous Studies Program, March 18, 2026.
Vanessa Ambtman-Smith’s first experience at a hospital lasted 21 days.
Now, she’s making it her life’s mission to make sure Indigenous children never have to fight for their rights in Canada’s healthcare system again.
Born during the Sixties Scoop, Vanessa was removed from her home and immediately placed into the child welfare system. After 21 days of waiting in the hospital, she was adopted by a non-Indigenous family in Alberta.
Today, Vanessa is an assistant professor in both the department of geography and environment and the Indigenous studies program at Western University. Before that, she spent two decades working in the healthcare field.
“My journey has naturally gone from working as an advocate in Indigenous healthcare to becoming a professor and an Indigenous health researcher. I’ve had to be an educator my whole career,” says Vanessa.
Her research explores Indigenous healing practices and traditional healing spaces within hospital settings. Through education and policy reform, Vanessa is committed to removing the colonial foundations of healthcare systems and making sure that hospitals are safe places for Indigenous patients.
According to Vanessa, anti-Indigenous racism is one of the most significant determinants of Indigenous health. She attributes this outcome to how non-Indigenous people have been educated to carry biases and stereotypes towards Indigenous people.
Vanessa recounts the story of Brian Sinclair, an Indigenous man, who died from a bladder infection after waiting for 34 hours in a hospital emergency room.
KEEP READING:
WASHINGTON (WCSC) — On this day in 2013, a Charleston-area custody fight landed before the United States Supreme Court in Washington, DC, as justices heard oral arguments in the “Baby Veronica” case.
After an hour and a half of emotional arguments, the justices took up the battle over a 3-year-old girl whose South Carolina adoptive parents were fighting her Cherokee biological father for custody under the Indian Child Welfare Act.
Supporters on both sides watched as lawyers argued three key questions: whether her biological father, Dusten Brown, counted as a “parent” under the ICWA, whether the law only applied when there was already an Indian family in place and whether parts of the law were constitutional at all.
Two months later, the Supreme Court ruled 5-4 that several core ICWA protections did not apply to a non-custodial Native American father when the child had never lived with him and sent the case back to South Carolina. By that fall, after more legal wrangling in South Carolina and even Oklahoma, Baby Veronica was returned to her adoptive parents on James Island.
The case became one of the most closely watched custody and tribal rights cases in decades.
PLEASE USE THE SEARCH BAR ON THIS WEBSITE TO READ ABOUT THIS CASE...
VIDEOS and HEADLINES: APTN:
This episode questions preconceived notions of Indigenous contributions to Canadian and western European societies. It argues that we require a new perspective on Indigenous people’s participation in and influence on historical events and social setting. The episode concludes with the idea that we all become better informed when we recognize Indigenous participation in the production of science.
Through Indigenous Eyes: Slowly but surely
Graphic by Elise Samson
This semester, I have tackled relevant, breaking news stories as they have occurred. From the Bad Bunny Superbowl Halftime Show to the horrific acts of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the immediate issues of the day have been my major focus. While I believe this coverage is vital, I also recognize that the vast majority of Indigenous issues lie beneath the surface because they have remained issues for years, decades, even centuries. Progress on these issues happens in spurts and is often covered through a non-Indigenous lens. As this is my last column for this semester, I want to bring attention to one of those issues: NAGPRA, or the Native American Graves and Repatriation Act.
Prevalent within American popular knowledge is the issue of the ‘Vanishing Indian,’ or the belief that Native Americans were extinct or on their way to extinction. This understanding of Indigenous people was legitimized through the emergence of anthropology as a discipline in the early 1900s. Anthropologists and archaeologists would go to traditionally Native areas and gravesites (after Indigenous people were forced onto contained reservations), dig up ancestral bodies and take them for scientific study. They wrote and studied Indigenous people as if their entire cultures were dead. Then, bodies were displayed by educational institutions and museums. While this process began in the early 1900s, the same display tactics have been documented in grave robberies as recently as four months ago.
The University of California, Berkeley, was one of the premier institutions for anthropology. Located in my tribe’s proverbial backyard, anthropologists affiliated with the institution stole over 40 bodies of my ancestors. My tribe is not alone; in 2024, it was announced that over 215,000 bodies of Indigenous people were stolen and displayed across the United States. Millions of funerary objects have also been reported.
NAGPRA, a federal law passed in 1990, orders museums and educational institutions that have Indigenous bodies and funerary objects in their collections to repatriate said items to the tribes they originated from. The original law was astonishingly limited in scope; only federally recognized tribes were eligible to have items repatriated, museums had the ability to delay repatriation almost indefinitely and private collections were not required to be evaluated. Accordingly, NAGPRA led to astonishingly little repatriation progress over the following 30 years.
In 2023, the non-profit news organization ProPublica published an expose on NAGPRA’s failures. In a series of investigative articles, it brought public attention to this systemic issue. It published and has been consistently updating a database that shows which institutions are actually engaging in repatriation. In the same year, the Department of the Interior revised NAGPRA to close loopholes, set a firm time limit for repatriation and strengthen the power of tribes in the repatriation process. These changes have already had profound effects, with institutions hiring curators that specialize in NAGPRA and repatriation becoming increasingly accessible to tribes. However, systemic issues, such as federal recognition and private collectors, remain.
While 2023 was a watershed moment, progress concerning NAGPRA has occurred slowly but surely. For example, my home state of California adopted NAGPRA at the state level in 2001. In 2020, they amended the law so that institutions were required to repatriate bodies to non-federally recognized tribes. And the work still isn’t done. For example, while UC Berkeley repatriated 18 of my tribe’s remains between 2002–05, it has yet to make 23 of my ancestors available, even 20 years later. Nationally, 42% of all remains have not been repatriated. These numbers can be shocking, especially since issues with NAGPRA have been criminally underreported.
Engaging with Indigenous issues requires you to confront your own knowledge biases and prejudices. As Americans, we must unlearn the ‘Vanishing Indian’ trope, we must recognize that our universities and institutions have benefited from grave robbery and we must advocate for Indigenous communities that are fighting for justice. We must also think critically about what stories are not being told. This work is a labor of empathy and connection; it is meant to make us uncomfortable, to make us question and to make us care. This work extends far beyond NAGPRA. I hope that, in some small way, this column has helped you to see the world through Indigenous eyes. And I can’t wait to continue on this journey with you.
SOURCE: https://www.tuftsdaily.com/article/2026/04/through-indigenous-eyes-slowly-but-surely
Newly uncovered Inuit animation from the '70s screening for the first time
Of all the animation reels made in Kinngait in the 1970s, Jamesie Fournier says he remembers the sand reels best.
“It has an ethereal, dreamlike quality to it," he said. "Just seeing animation in sand and seeing one image blur into another, but also seeing a culture reflected into that as well, something that's uniquely Inuit... I thought, well, that is quite something.”
Many of these stop motion animation sand reels were made by Timmun Alariaq in the 1972 Sikusilarmiut animation workshop in Kinngait, Nunavut. The workshop was put on by the National Film Board of Canada, with support from the Department of Indian and Northern Affairs and the government of the Northwest Territories.
Some of those sand reels aired in the 18-minute film “Animation from Cape Dorset” in 1973, which went on to win an award at Animafest Zagreb and gain international attention.
But many reels were put in storage and never screened to a wider audience.
That was until last summer, when the National Film Board of Canada uncovered and digitized these forgotten reels, labelled “Arctic Workshop Reel 1", "Arctic Workshop Reel 2" and "Arctic Workshop Reel 3."
These newly uncovered reels run for more than 50 minutes and are made by 12 different filmmakers — nearly triple the number of reels first screened to the public in “Animation from Cape Dorset.”
“Think of it as a director's cut,” Fournier said. “All of [the reels] had never seen the light of day or had never gotten into any sort of acclaim or accreditation for the artists. So, being able to have this body of work, and being able to make it widely available to folks is really an exciting, exciting time.”
Fournier is the coordinator for the Aulajut Nunavut International Film Festival, where the reels screened to a public audience for the first time in Iqaluit this week.
The reels will be screening in Kinngait next week and Igloolik the week after to share them with more communities. They are also available to watch on the National Film Board of Canada’s website.
Peter Raymont directed the 1975 film “Sikusilarmiut” about the workshop. He says he was “honoured” to be invited to go to Kinngait and make the film.
“Amazing footage, right?” he said, smiling. “Made by these kids just sort of experimenting with various animation techniques. And I was told to splice it all together and to send it to film festivals.”
Raymont says it’s “wonderful” that these uncovered animation reels are now available to watch.
“That's remarkable, because we didn't include all the films, obviously, that the animators of [Kinngait] were doing in 1973 when they won that award,” he said. “They kept making films ... and now they're all available to see.”
Like Raymont, Fournier says the reels are experimental, unconventional and may challenge any misconceptions people may have when they think of Inuit art.
“Here you see a body of work that is very modern and experimental, especially for the 1970s era," he said. "So we have this feeling of a new wave of artistic expression coming out that defies the traditional beliefs that we [have about] Inuit art.”
Fournier says these reels still hold up today. He said he’s equally amazed by the other vibrant work made by artists from these workshops, like the reel “Magic Man”, which depicts a person flying.
“That's the exact same thing that people are producing now, just with their cell phones as a reel clip,” he said, smiling. “But that’s what these guys were doing in 1972 on the land in Kinngait.”
IMPORTANT
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| blog photo (not exhibit) |
New Exhibit – Opening Saturday, April 11, 2026. This travelling exhibition from the Legacy of Hope Foundation was developed with input from the National Indigenous Survivors of Child Welfare Network. This innovative and challenging exhibition features the first-person oral testimonies of 12 Indigenous Survivors of the Sixties Scoop, and reflects upon their pain, loss, enduring strength, courage, and resilience. Warning: This exhibition contains subject matter that may be disturbing to some visitors and may be triggering. The Legacy of Hope Foundation is a national, Indigenous-led, charitable organization that has been working to promote healing and Reconciliation in Canada for more than 19 years.
IMPORTANT TO KNOW!
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Over a year into the second Trump administration, Indigenous communities have seen dramatic changes, from rescinding land-management policies that were more inclusive of Indigenous knowledge and reducing $1.5 billion in climate funding for tribal initiatives to removing tribal flags from Veterans Affairs hospitals. The administration has regularly bypassed tribal consultation or rolled back the work the previous administration did in partnership with tribes.
To better understand the on-the-ground impacts, High Country News reporters and editors spoke with the leaders of intertribal coalitions, commissions and Native-run community organizations across the Western U.S. Tribal leaders described the haphazard changes that affected their funding and staffing amid an atmosphere of uncertainty, but a few also mentioned a sense of possibility: While some changes have caused irrevocable community harm, there are also unexpected opportunities within the disruption — opportunities to reflect, remember their elders and to make new choices with the generations to come in mind.
These conversations have been edited for length and clarity.
Click to read about tribal leaders' experiences during this time
Autumn Gillard (Southern Paiute)
Coordinator for the Grand Staircase Escalante Intertribal Coalition
During his first term, President Donald Trump shrank Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument by half. Last spring, the five tribes with ancestral lands within Grand Staircase-Escalante formed an intertribal coalition to better advocate for the monument and ensure that their perspectives were included in its management under a second Trump administration. In early March, Republican members of Congress sought to repeal the monument resource management plan that had been approved under the Biden administration.
Location: Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, Utah
“The groundwork actually started in 2019 to establish the coalition. A previous cultural manager from one of the tribes said we really need to have a tribal coalition for this monument, so that Indigenous voices can be heard.
“The resource management plan prior to 2020 did not include Indigenous voices in the management of our ancestral landscape, and so we had worked diligently as the coalition to make sure that we were putting comments in for this new process for the resource management plan that was approved in January of 2025.
“The (congressional actions) would severely impact the process that tribes had taken to integrate our traditional ecological knowledge into the commenting process for this management plan. It could also prohibit a future Resource Management Plan — maybe there wouldn't even be one. It would diminish all of the consultation that was held between the government and tribes. We worked so hard, and we have some individuals that have worked on these comments that are no longer with us. We’re not going to be able to re-retrieve that beautiful cultural knowledge.”
Cody Desautel (Colville)
President of the Intertribal Timber Council
The Intertribal Timber Council, which comprises some 50 tribal nations, is focused on the management of forests, fire and natural resources.
Location: Colville Reservation, Washington
“The Department of Interior fire reorganization has us concerned. The structure and how the leadership gets built out will be important in ensuring that they understand Indian Country; what some of their responsibilities will be for protecting tribal trust resources and then how they navigate (contracting with tribal governments), which will be new to most of them. There’s a lot of unknowns going into this fire season.
“With the reduction of the workforce in the U.S. Forest Service, and particularly under the leadership of the new chief, there seems to be a renewed objective to partner with tribes. We’ve got several bills working through Congress now that would expand tribal co-management authorities on adjacent federal land, and we've had some discussions about what shared stewardship agreements might look like. There's as much tribal-specific legislation moving through Congress as any point I've seen in my career.
“We always tend to pivot, recognizing where we’ve got opportunities with any given administration, and sometimes we pick up one political agenda with a change and then set down one that we worked on in the past. From a forestry and fire perspective, typically there’s a lot of alignment with those, and so we seem to be able to maintain some of the momentum that we’ve gained in past Congresses.
“I think there’s always opportunity, even when there’s change. One of the best things that has come out of this administration is the focus on partnerships. Downsizing the federal government has impacts to us; it also creates opportunity when they're looking to have other partners do some of that work. I think tribes are situated to do that.”
KEEP READING: https://www.hcn.org/articles/tribal-leaders-reflect-on-a-year-of-uncertainty-and-possibility/
This article first appeared on High Country News and is republished here under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
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You changed your diet. You found a naturopath. You stopped filling prescriptions you never understood and started asking questions your GP couldn’t answer. One afternoon you walked out of the clinic where you’d been a patient for fifteen years, and you didn’t go back. Nobody stopped you. Nobody called. The transition from one paradigm to another was, in the end, unremarkable. You found a different practitioner who spoke a language that made more sense, and you moved on.
Now imagine doing that on 40mg of paroxetine.
You can’t. And the reason you can’t reveals something about psychiatry that separates it from every other branch of medicine: the treatment itself locks you in. Not metaphorically. Chemically.
A person who decides their GP’s approach to cholesterol or blood pressure is wrong can simply stop taking the statin or the ACE inhibitor, experience some rebound effects, and move on. The decision is uncomfortable but it’s a decision. A person on psychiatric drugs — antidepressants, antipsychotics, benzodiazepines, mood stabilisers — faces a problem that is not comparable. Their brain has been physically restructured by the medication. Stopping it is not a decision. It is an ordeal that can last months or years, that can produce symptoms worse than anything that brought them to psychiatry in the first place, and that the entire medical system is designed to interpret as proof that the drugs were needed all along.
READ: https://open.substack.com/pub/unbekoming/p/escape-from-psychiatry?utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=email
David Moses Bridges, a nationally recognized Maine Passamaquoddy craftsman, fights to preserve his heritage, culture, and family while battling a rare form of cancer. Told through intimate and touching interviews, indigenous artistry, and original music.
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Wisconsin woman teams with MIT to map violence against Indigenous people in Great Lakes region |
https://youtu.be/p5rAkdEVC9g?si=2va4O4VPvFYc3mi7
This is a growing map of MMIW/P resources available across Turtle Island to help groups and families quickly locate agencies, non-profits, grassroots, and other organizations that provide direct services to families of MMIW/P and survivors of violence. The map was co-developed by Waking Women Healing Institute, the Data + Feminism Lab, and MIT students. We hope to improve responses and increase access to support for those experiencing violence and cases of MMIW/P. Each dot opens a pop-up that shares the location, contact details, and services available for each known entity. Notably, this is an on-going, collaborative effort to map Indigenous-led, community-based organizations and we welcome your suggestions for groups that should be on the map. Please reach out to us with your suggestions at sthompson@wakingwomenhealingint.org and dignazio@mit.edu.
Waewaenen to Profs. Elizabeth Rule, Gabriella Carolini and Larry Susskind for leading the Indigenous Environmental Planning course from which our collaboration began.
MAP👇
To view the map you can scan the QR code above or click this link: https://shorturl.at/hOGgt
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| Ellowyn's Lakota doll |
Your History Class Was a F*cking Lie by Sean Sherman (Or: How the American Educational System Has Always Been a Racist Propaganda Program...
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