We explode gender norms by exploring their incredible variety across time. For example, did you know the Nazis encouraged young girls to bear a child out of wedlock for the Fatherland? Or that pre-contact Hawaii had no such thing as marriage? Or that ancient Romans had no concept of orientation, only a vague sense of “preference” for one sex or the other? That’s the kind of stuff we’ll be covering in this show. We explore the entire spectrum, from male to female and everything in-between, and from straight to gloriously twisted.
History of Sex is made with Jetpack Podcast. Full show notes and every episode at https://historyofsexpod.com/
Two-Spirit: The Lakota Winkte – Sex on the Great Plains
Oct 03, 2022
Show notes
https://archive.org/download/ho-s-70-byzantine-court-eunuchs/HoS71LakotaWinkte.mp3 What does it mean to be Two-Spirit? The film The Miseducation of Cameron Post likens it to being a “Native American David Bowie,” but that’s a far cry. What does it really mean? And what is the Two-Spirit tradition of the Lakota, the winkte? Episode theme music courtesy of the The Eagle and the Raven Band, featuring Ki’ Earth Spirit. Don’t forget to subscribe, rate, and review. Support the show on Patreon at www.patreon.com/btnewberg. Research, writing, editing, and production by B. T. Newberg. Logo Design by Rachel Westhoff. Additional credits, references, and more at www.historyofsexpod.com. Transcript In the 2018 film The Miseducation of Cameron Post, Cameron encounters a Lakota character named Adam Red Eagle, played by Forrest Goodluck, who identifies as a winkte. Cameron’s never heard of such a thing. [clip: Cameron: “Hey Adam, what’s winkte mean?”] It’s a charged scene where it is pretty clear Cameron is treading on something important to Adam’s identity that might be difficult to talk about with those outside his culture. But Adam explains: [clip: Adam: “It’s a Lakotan word for Two-Spirit. It’s like a third gender.”] Cameron is still confused, so Adam breaks it down further with an explanation that is, shall we say, correct-ish: [clip: Adam: “Okay, so um… I’m Two-Spirit, which means I was born with a man’s soul and a woman’s soul, and literally winkte means ‘killed by a woman’, so it’s as if the male part of me is being killed by the female part. That make sense?”] Cameron is still confused until a friend adds: [clip: Jane: “He’s basically the Native American David Bowie.”] This elicits a chuckle from Adam, who adds: [clip: Adam: “I’ll take it.”] And that, so far as I know, is the only on-screen depiction of a Lakota winkte in any film ever. Now, as I said, the film only gets it correct-ish, and we’ll get to that in just a moment. But first, I want to emphasize what the film gets right. First, it’s true that “Two-Spirit” is a way of describing Native American third gender traditions, and that the Lakota third-gender tradition is called winkte. Second, it’s appropriate to show Adam identifying in terms of the local tradition first, and the Two Spirit notion only second. “Two-Spirit” is actually a modern term coined in 1990 to encompass a broad range of different local traditions unique to different tribal cultures, and it’s usually preferred to think in terms of the local tradition first and foremost. Third, Adam doesn’t explain it as a synonym for “gay” or “trans.” Although these traditions can and often do involve same-sex relations, and almost always express a gender at odds with that assigned at birth, traditionally they are not analogous to any modern Western majority-culture category. Such categories do no justice to the unique way in which these traditions functioned, nor to the differences between tribes. Of course, there is variety in how these terms are interpreted today, and some do use them to mean a Native American who is queer in some sense, but traditionally they are not the same. Finally, the film gets right that misunderstanding – that is, the common misunderstanding that Two-Spirit is just a synonym for “queer Indian” – and plays with it. This film scene takes place at a religious school where both Adam and Cameron are taught to “pray the gay away” as it were, assuming Adam is gay or trans when that’s not really accurate. The school misunderstands Adam’s identity in a manner that echoes Western misunderstandings of Native genders throughout history, and I think that was an intentional choice on the part of the filmmakers. It’s not explained in the film and might be lost on most viewers, but those in the know might pick up on it and appreciate the irony. So, that’s a final thing the film gets right: Two-Spirit is not traditionally a synonym for queer. Now, at the same time, as I said, there’s plenty the film only gets correct-ish. The whole male and female souls fighting thing seems to imply some kind of uniform theology underlying the Two Spirits concept when there is no such shared theology, the meaning of winkte as “killed by a woman” is only one of several possible interpretations of the word, and lastly the joke about being the “Native American David Bowie” suggests eccentricity whereas Two-Spirit traditions were actually quite traditional, respected, and mainstream within their cultures. So, yeah, it’s not quite right, but it’s not terrible either. More than anything, it leaves the viewer with more questions. What is this Two Spirit thing? What does it really mean to be a winkte? What was it like for them on the Great Plains in the 19th century, and what is it like for them today? That’s what we’re talking about in today’s episode. I’m B. T. Newberg, and this is The History of Sex. [music] I’d like to thank our Patreon patrons Bee Greenfield and Robert for making this episode possible. I also want to thank Blanca Iris Acuña for once again contributing the theme song for today’s episode. She has been wonderfully supportive and I am grateful to be able to showcase her lovely talents. Today’s music is “Father Time” by The Eagle and the Raven Band, featuring Ki’ Earth Spirit. Folks, this episode is a bit bittersweet because, as announced last month, this episode is not just the last in this series, but also the last regular release of this show. We may still put out the occasional episode on an irregular basis, so stay subscribed. In fact, we just received a request from an author for an interview and I might take her up on that, but this is going to the be the end of pumping out episodes on a regular schedule. It has been a fantastic run, but things change. I’ve got a new job, I’m taking on more work, and other life things are taking precedence. Most of all, though, I’m just ready for something new. I did more than 100 episodes of Dead Ideas, and this will be episode 71 of The History of Sex. I learned a whole lot, and it was a blast, but my creative energies are restless. And I’m sick of deadlines. I’m soooo sick of deadlines. So, no more regular episode releases. I will be pumping out something creative again in the future, but probably not a podcast. I want a new challenge, and I don’t know yet what that will be. You can follow me on social media if you want to be there when I do. Oh, and the portraits will continue, by the way. If you’re a patron or thinking of becoming one, the Patreon will remain open for you to get a portrait – which I love drawing for you folks – and you can also listen to the backlog of episodes ad-free as a patron. So, with that bittersweet message out of the way, let’s make this a show to remember. Folks, this is the fourth and final episode in our series Sex on the Great Plains, exploring sex and gender among the Lakota. The series has been focused on the 19th century, but today will be centered mostly on the 20th century and later, mainly because we have very few sources for winkte in the 19th century and therefore must rely on later accounts. In a way, though, it’s a good reminder that Native cultures are modern cultures that change, adapt, and meet the challenges of the present just like any other, even if they also reach back to traditional roots in the past. Today, we’re exploring the Lakota third gender tradition of the winkte. As you might imagine, this is a fairly sensitive topic. Many Lakota are understandably reticent to talk about it, given the history of settler culture misunderstanding Native gender and weaponizing it against them, as well as the ongoing stigma against gender variance today. Nevertheless, it is an important topic, and an exploration of traditional Lakota sex and gender would not be complete without it. We’ll hew closely to actual first-hand accounts, letting Lakota speak for themselves wherever possible, while recognizing that these accounts may be incomplete, and that views vary even within the tribe. Also, we should talk about pronouns. In English, we have to choose gendered pronouns to refer to a person, and that is of course a hot topic today. In the Lakota language, however, that is not the case. As explained by Rev. Isaiah Brokenleg, who is himself a Lakota winkte: “In Lakota, there are no pronouns. We don’t have she and he. In Lakota, men will speak differently than women. We know their gender based on how they are talking and what words they are using. Suppose a male-bodied individual speaks with the words of a woman or a female-bodied person speaks with the words of a man. In that case, they are winkte — their gender being neither female nor male.” (Kulkarni) So, although the need to choose pronouns is not native to the Lakota language, the manner of speaking is, and that manner leans toward the gender opposite of one’s assigned sex. Thus, that’s what I’ll generally prefer in today’s episode, though quoted texts may differ. I want to make clear, however, that this is a choice and shouldn’t be taken as an established Lakota custom. Oh, and by the way, Brokenleg refers to winkte who are assigned sex as female, but traditionally we only have accounts of those assigned male. We will have a look at some possible correlates for assigned-sex female Lakota, but most of today’s discussion will regard winkte, who are traditionally assigned sex as male but come to express a third gender. Okay, let’s get into it. What is this Two-Spirit tradition that The Miseducation of Cameron Post calls “the Native American David Bowie?” [music] Two-Spirit Adam Red Eagle explains to Cameron that a winkte is a kind of Two-Spirit person. Now, if listeners have heard of anything today, it’s probably this “Two-Spirit” concept, so let’s start there. What does it mean to be Two-Spirit? The term “Two-Spirit” is a modern invention, created in 1990 at a conference in Winnipeg to replace the old anthropological term “berdache”, which was, well… let’s just say Western perceptions grossly misunderstood Native cultures (big surprise). The old term had connotations of “boy prostitute” which were offensive and not remotely accurate. Thus, the new term “Two Spirits” was created to replace it. Now, why didn’t they just choose “gay”, “queer”, “LGBTQ+”, or something like that? Well, such concepts don’t begin to capture the complexity. For example, Western queer categories have no ceremonial components, nor any necessary social roles or community functions. What’s more, queer categories are usually considered to derive from a strong genetic component – you’re “born this way,” so to speak. In contrast, Two-Spirit folk might show signs at an early age, but the real confirmation of it tends to come in the form of visions. There’s a strong spiritual component. Thus, Western queer concepts just don’t fit the bill, and the term “Two Spirit” was created to stand apart from them. But “Two-Spirit” was never meant to replace local traditions, with all their variety and nuance. So, now let’s turn to the tradition specific to the Lakota, the winkte. The Winkte As we’ve heard in previous episodes, Lakota culture traditionally gravitates between the poles of masculine and feminine. Tasks break down along these gendered lines, with men largely hunting bison and women mostly processing bison into food, clothing, tools, and so on. As anthropologist Raymond DeMallie says, “male and female was the single most important attribute for defining an individual in Lakota culture” (DeMallie, p. 238). However, it may not be as binary as that would seem to imply. As one 60 year-old traditionalist Lakota puts it, “Winkte means ‘different.’ It is neither man nor woman, but is a third group different from men and woman. That is why winktes are regarded as sacred. Only Wakan Tanka, the great spirit, can explain it, so we accept it. Winktes are gifted persons.” (Williams, p. 193) So, despite the heavy emphasis on male and female in Lakota culture, there was something apart from or beyond it. The winkte expressed a third gender category by combining masculine and feminine traits. Sociologist Margaret Robinson reports, citing several earlier scholars: “In an article from 1986, one Lakȟóta man (identified as a 60-year-old traditionalist) reported, ‘it’s easy to pick out a winkte. They don’t marry women, but they act and talk like a woman. But they’re ‘half and half,’ and will dress mostly like men’ (Williams, 1986, p. 193). The Lakȟóta people interviewed by Williams (1986) describe the wíŋtke as engaging in women’s quill and beadwork and performing traditional dances in the women’s style. Medicine (2002) notes that wíŋtke engaged in women’s crafts, raised children, engaged in warfare as men did, and had sexual relationships with men.” (Robinson, p. 1678-1679) So, right there, you can already see a dense mixing of male-coded and female-coded traits. On the masculine side, they may dress mostly as men (according to this source; I’ve read other sources that disagree). They also take part in warfare, which is a masculine activity in Lakota culture. On the feminine side, they may wear articles of women’s clothing, adopt the speech and mannerisms of women, raise children, dance like women, and perform feminine production-type tasks like quill and beadwork. The latter, the quill and beadwork, was particularly strongly associated with winkte. In addition to this mixing of masculine and feminine traits, Robinson mentions sexual relationships with men. Notice it’s just one feature among many, though – just kinda thrown in there at the end. It’s not the primary defining feature, but just one possible trait among many. This underscores how being a winkte is not a sexual orientation. Rather, it’s a combination of masculine and feminine traits to the extent that it becomes a different gender category, a unique third gender. And such third-gender folk were not eccentrics like David Bowie. They may not have been common, but they were mainstream, and traditionally respected. A Lakota medicine man by the name of Lame Deer said of a winkte, “To us, a man is what nature, or his dreams, make him. We accept him for what he wants to be. That’s up to him… There are good men among the winktes and they have been given certain powers” (Fire and Erdoes, 1972, p. 149, quoted in Williams, p. 192). Now, that statement was given in 1971, which is quite late, and long after the Lakota Nation roamed the Great Plains hunting buffalo. This makes me wonder: what were winkte like back in those days, in the 19th century and earlier, before colonization? Winkte in the 19th Century Unfortunately, we don’t really know what winkte were like in the 19th century. Very little comes down to us from that era that is published and publicly accessible. As for visual representations, none are known save for glyph-like symbols on some Lakota winter counts. Remember that winter counts are mnemonic devices where Lakota history-tellers record each year by a symbol recalling its most significant event. In a few cases, they used winkte figures, which were represented in full dresses with phalluses protruding. This is most likely not meant as a literal depiction, but rather as an abstract symbol. It’s interesting in that it emphasizes that combination of masculine and feminine traits, but it doesn’t really help us understand what winkte were like in those days. The only other depiction from the 19th century that I could find comes to us in the form of a story involving an unnamed winkte seer prophesying before an 1866 battle against the US Army. This story was published in 1915 by anthropologist George Bird Grinnel based on accounts told to him by several Cheyenne who were present at the battle, including a man named White Elk. Interestingly, the story mis-identifies the winkte as a hee’maneh, which is the Cheyenne Two-Spirit tradition and quite different. In contrast to the winkte, the Cheyenne hee’maneh traditionally wears the dress of the elderly rathe…
Two-Spirit: The Lakota Winkte - Sex on the Great Plains
Oct 03, 2022
Show notes
What does it mean to be Two-Spirit? The film The Miseducation of Cameron Post likens it to being a "Native American David Bowie," but that's a far cry. What does it really mean? And what is the Two-Spirit tradition of the Lakota, the winkte?
Don't forget to subscribe, rate, and review. Support the show on Patreon at www.patreon.com/btnewberg. Research, writing, editing, and production by B. T. Newberg. Logo Design by Rachel Westhoff. Additional credits, references, and more at www.historyofsexpod.com.
Did you know that Europe had its own third gender tradition, which arose, flourished, and then disappeared over the span of a few centuries? In the Byzantine Empire, this third gender was called a eunuch. They began as exotic imports from abroad, but quickly became a local tradition both feared and respected, reviled and adored, devilish and angelic.
Don’t forget to subscribe, rate, and review. Support the show on Patreon at www.patreon.com/btnewberg. Research, writing, editing, and production by B. T. Newberg. Logo Design by Rachel Westhoff. Additional credits, references, and more at www.historyofsexpod.com.
Partial Transcript (Intro and Outro Only)
There are only two genders, male and female, right?
Well, no, not today. But traditionally, I mean, right? At least in the West, right?
Well, actually no, not entirely.
Third gender traditions, neither male nor female but a third category, are fairly common across the world, known among Asian, African, Pacific, and American Indian cultures. In fact, the West is really the odd one out, knowing only two genders until quite recently. But did you know that even Europe had its own such tradition, which arose, flourished, and then disappeared over the span of a few centuries?
It occurred in the Roman Empire, especially in the Eastern half, which survived much longer and came to be known to historians as the Byzantine Empire. There, it came to be recognized that there was more than just male and female, but a third alternative. For them, this gender was called a eunuch.
Now, third gender traditions are often quite unique in their local manifestations, and this one is no different, being centered on assigned-sex males who were, for whatever reason, incapable of reproduction. Contrary to popular belief, you didn’t have to be castrated to be considered a eunuch in Byzantine eyes. Castration was the most common way to become one, but you could also have been born naturally sterile, for example.
These non-reproductive persons came to be understood as neither male nor female, but a third gender category. They began as exotic imports from abroad, but quickly became a local tradition both feared and respected, reviled and adored, devilish and angelic. It’s a complicated and fascinating story almost entirely forgotten in European history.
What was it like for eunuchs in the Byzantine Empire? How did this third gender tradition arise, and how did it disappear? That’s what we’re talking about in today’s showcase episode.
I’m B. T. Newberg, and this is The History of Sex.
[music]
Hiya folks. Today we’ve got a showcase episode coming at you from my other show, Dead Ideas. We did have a whole five-part series on Byzantine Court Eunuchs, so what you hear today perks your interest, you can check out the rest of the series on Dead Ideas.
Meanwhile, I’m hard at work on the next episode of our current series Sex on the Great Plains. It wasn’t quite ready this month (hence the showcase episode to fill in today), but we should be back to the Lakota next month. That episode will also feature a third gender tradition, the Lakota winkte, which is of course very different from the Byzantine eunuch, but I thought it might be interesting to have the one next to the other as we consider third genders in different cultures.
Also, I do have a big announcement, and that is that next month’s episode will be the final episode of the show. I know, I’ve said that before, but now the time has finally come. It’ll make 70 episodes of The History of Sex, which is way, way more than I ever expected to complete, so that feels good. And my creative energies are restless. I’m ready for something new. Not sure what that new thing will be yet, probably not a podcast, but who knows? It’s always an adventure, and I’m looking forward to whatever’s next on the horizon.
So, with that bittersweet announcement out of the way, let’s get to the show. Today, we’re talking about the Byzantine third gender tradition of the eunuch. What did it mean to be a eunuch, what was it like for them, and how did they arise, soar meteorically to fill some of the highest positions in the empire, and then disappear almost entirely from European history? Let’s find out.
[Dead Ideas episode]
Well, that’s all we’ve got for you today, folks. If you want to hear more about Byzantine court eunuchs, check out the rest of the series on Dead Ideas.
If you’ve enjoyed this show and want to express your support, you can do so by subscribing, rating, and reviewing on Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Or you can pledge on Patreon where $5 a month gets you a portrait drawn in the time period and culture of your choosing.
The portraits will continue even though the show is ending, by the way. And all patrons get access to the full backlog of episodes ad-free for both my shows (Dead Ideas and The History of Sex). So, if you are thinking of becoming a patron, you will gain those perks. If you are a current patron, you are welcome to discontinue (no hard feelings, I appreciate that you’ve been with me as long as you have!), or you can choose to continue, enjoy the backlog ad-free, and earn a new portrait each 12 months that you stay on. It’s also possible to do a custom pledge, toss me a year’s worth of $5 pledges all at one time, then discontinue, and I’ll honor that with a portrait as well. Whatever works best for you is cool with me.
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Alright folks, I’ll see you next time. I’m B. T. Newberg, and this is The History of Sex.
Europe’s Third Gender: Byzantine Court Eunuchs - Showcase, Feat. Dead Ideas
Sep 05, 2022
Show notes
Did you know that Europe had its own third gender tradition, which arose, flourished, and then disappeared over the span of a few centuries? In the Byzantine Empire, this third gender was called a eunuch. They began as exotic imports from abroad, but quickly became a local tradition both feared and respected, reviled and adored, devilish and angelic.
Don't forget to subscribe, rate, and review. Support the show on Patreon at www.patreon.com/btnewberg. Research, writing, editing, and production by B. T. Newberg. Logo Design by Rachel Westhoff. Additional credits, references, and more at www.historyofsexpod.com.
Were Lakota Women Slaves to their Husbands? – Sex on the Great Plains
Aug 01, 2022
Show notes
https://archive.org/download/ho-s-70-byzantine-court-eunuchs/HoS69LakotaWomen.mp3 19th-century writers called Lakota women virtually enslaved to their husbands, but were they? Or were they skilled artisans, valued by the community, and empowered within their marriages? It turns out the working woman of the modern West owes much to the skilled craftswoman of the Great Plains. Special thanks to Dr. Jon Cleland Host for help in the preparation of this episode. Episode theme music courtesy of the The Eagle and the Raven Band, featuring Ki’ Earth Spirit. Don’t forget to subscribe, rate, and review. Support the show on Patreon at www.patreon.com/btnewberg. Research, writing, editing, and production by B. T. Newberg. Logo Design by Rachel Westhoff. Additional credits, references, and more at www.historyofsexpod.com. Transcript If you time-traveled a Victorian-era gentleman and lady to the present, and they saw modern Western women working, what do you think they would say? They’d probably choke on their tea. [spitting tea sound] Women today make up a full half of the labor force, whatever we might say about equity in leadership, but in Victorian times, women working at all was a major no-no. Egads! Now, women did work in Victorian times, but the thing was, it was seen as low-class at best, demeaning at worst. What dystopia is this where men force women to labor like drudges?, they might exclaim. How crude! How barbaric! Well, it seems our dyspeptic Victorians didn’t have to get in a time machine to experience this very same reaction. They had a rather similar reaction in their own day and age, but on the Great Plains. The traditional gender roles of plains tribes like the Lakota baffled European and American settlers, who saw them through the lens of their own gender norms. They scoffed at Lakota expectations that women work, unlike their own delicate domestic goddesses. Consequently, they considered them something like sweat-shop workers, very nearly enslaved to their husbands. However, they failed to notice that Lakota women were considered skilled craftspeople, rose in status independently of their husbands based on the quality of their craftsmanship, could divorce relatively easily, and self-determined their own fates to a relatively large extent. If observers had asked the Lakota themselves, they would have been told that men’s and women’s labor, though rigidly divided along gender lines, was not exploitative but complementary. Oh, and by the way, they might also have been told that gender was not binary, that there was not only man and woman but also a third gender called winkte, but we’ll get to that in a future episode. In any case, all of that, well… let’s just say it got lost in translation. Observers recoiled from Lakota gender norms, and railed against them in written accounts. Later, in the reservation period, plains tribes like the Lakota found themselves forced to conform to Western gender norms. This led not to a rise in women’s status, as our Victorian observers would have expected, but to a decline. In fact, today, many are trying to revive a form of those traditional Lakota gender roles fit for the modern era. So, what was it like to live and labor as a Lakota woman? Stripped of all the Victorian poppycock, what was life for women really like on the Great Plains? That’s what we’re talking about in today’s episode. I’m B. T. Newberg, and this is The History of Sex. [music] I’d like to thank our Patreon patron Dave for making this episode possible. I’d also like to thank Dr. Jon Cleland Host for help in the preparation of this episode. Finally, our theme song for today comes courtesy of The Eagle and the Raven Band, featuring Ki’ Earth Spirit, whose talented front woman Blanca Iris Acuña belongs to the Taino tribe. We are trying to showcase Native artists in this series where possible, so a big thank you to them. Folks, this the third episode in our series Sex on the Great Plains, focusing on the Lakota in the 19th century. For a general overview of Lakota gender norms, check out the first episode, and for the viewpoint of one member of the Lakota tribe today, check out the second. Today, we’re looking specifically at women. What was life for women like on the Great Plains? Plains tribes like the Lakota boasted gender norms that befuddled settlers. They were once thought a textbook case of patriarchal exploitation. While I was not able to find a quote addressing the Lakota specifically, the view was applied to all the plains tribes generally, of which the Lakota were one. For example, in 1872 E.D. Neill wrote of the Lakota’s cousins the Dakota: “…From early childhood they lead ‘worse than a dog’s life.’ Like the Gibeonites of old, they are the hewers of wood and the drawers of water for the camp… Uncultivated and made to do the labor of beasts” (quoted in Weist, p. 31) Likewise, Fanny Kelly, who lived in a Dakota camp as a captive, remarked in 1873 on the “slavish” and “unceasing toils” of the women there (Weist, p. 40). Finally, an 1868 letter by Lt. George Palmer to the Chicago Tribune describes the Lakota’s neighbors on the plains, the Crow: “The men are indolent and slothful, and look upon labor as degrading and only fit for women… They compel their women to do all the labor, and often reward the overworked creatures with neglect and cruelty,” (quoted in Weist, p. 36). Palmer goes on to describe a woman’s work, saying she “must move the tepees from place to place, tan all the skins, gather wood, provide the winter supply of food, and take care of the ponies, papooses and dogs; while her lazy buck rides his horses or lies on soft robes in pleasant places, and occasionally pounds her with a club,” (quoted in Weist, p. 36). Even today, depictions of Native American women in film tend toward either a princess or a menial, downtrodden drudge (Albers, p. 3), and the latter descends directly from Victorian-era accounts. However, there’s something fishy going on here, because later ethnographic studies from the early 20th century report nothing of the kind. For example, Hewitt in 1910 and Grinnel in 1923 explicitly denied that women were slaves. Further, later interviews with actual Lakota women, including Pretty Shield, Iron Teeth, Plenty Coups, and Wooden Leg, denied experiencing overwork or disdain (Weist, p. 40). So, what’s going on here? Historian Katherine Weist believes the perception of drudgery was due to Victorian notions of womanhood at the time. Settlers thought: “…the proper roles of women were to provide nurturance, psychological support, and educational benefits to husbands and children – all activities considered appropriate to Euro-American women who were the models for what Indian women should become. In actuality, Euro-American women had lost many of the productive activities they had performed during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Due to an increase in industrialization, competition for jobs by large numbers of poor laborers, and the development of a middle class during the nineteenth century, many women no longer had their previous economic freedoms and became more dependent upon men. There arose around women a ‘cult of true womanhood’ characterized by the virtues of piety, purity, submissiveness, and domesticity” (Weist, p. 38). Huh. So, it seems settlers saw plains tribes, along with many other peoples, through a peculiar lens. They took norms unique to their own industrial way of life as the standard for all women everywhere, and judged accordingly. Settlers, especially those of the middle and upper classes (who were the ones most likely to leave written accounts), recoiled at the treatment of women on the plains. Forgetting their own recent history of women’s labor, they believed women such delicate flowers that they ought not be asked to lift a finger. Consequently, when they saw women on the plains stretching and tanning hides, putting up and tearing down tipis, and trucking firewood, they nearly swallowed their kravats. [choking sound] “You couldn’t find a better example of women exploited by men,” they thought. ”These poor women are practically sweat-shop workers!” But were they? What was it really like to live and labor as a Lakota woman on the Great Plains? And how did it come to be that way? That’s what we’re going to find out next, but first we’ll take a short break, and be back after this. Audiodrama Hey folks, we’ve got something special for you today: an audiodrama presentation of excerpts from a story by Yankton (that’s one of those tribes sometimes called Nakota) author Zitkála-Šá. Born in 1876, she was of the first generation raised in the boarding school system, which removed children from their parents, forced them to become Christian, and attempted to erase from them all trace of tribal ways – “Kill the Indian to save the man,” as it was once put. Zitkála-Šá became a stalwart activist against this system, as well as an accomplished author, editor, translator, educator, musician, and opera writer. This story, published in the Atlantic Monthly in 1902, evokes her traditional spirituality, and is entitled “Why I Am a Pagan.” [sounds of the prairie] WHEN the spirit swells my breast I love to roam leisurely among the green hills; or sometimes, sitting on the brink of the murmuring Missouri, I marvel at the great blue overhead. With half closed eyes I watch the huge cloud shadows in their noiseless play upon the high bluffs opposite me, while into my ear ripple the sweet, soft cadences of the river’s song. Folded hands lie in my lap, for the time forgot. My heart and I lie small upon the earth like a grain of throbbing sand. Drifting clouds and tinkling waters, together with the warmth of a genial summer day, bespeak with eloquence the loving Mystery round about us. … [sound of a yellow-breasted warbler chirping] Yellow Breast, swaying upon the slender stem of a wild sunflower, warbles a sweet assurance of this as I pass near by. Breaking off the clear crystal song, he turns his wee head from side to side eyeing me wisely as slowly I plod with moccasined feet. Then again he yields himself to his song of joy. Flit, flit hither and yon, he fills the summer sky with his swift, sweet melody. And truly does it seem his vigorous freedom lies more in his little spirit than in his wing. With these thoughts I reach the log cabin whither I am strongly drawn by the tie of a child to an aged mother. [sound of a yapping dog] Out bounds my four-footed friend to meet me, frisking about my path with unmistakable delight. Chan is a black shaggy dog, “a thorough bred little mongrel,” of whom I am very fond. Chan seems to understand many words in Sioux, and will go to her mat even when I whisper the word, though generally I think she is guided by the tone of the voice. Often she tries to imitate the sliding inflection and long drawn out voice to the amusement of our guests, but her articulation is quite beyond my ear. In both my hands I hold her shaggy head and gaze into her large brown eyes. At once the dilated pupils contract into tiny black dots, as if the roguish spirit within would evade my questioning. [sound of footsteps and a creaking chair] Finally resuming the chair at my desk I feel in keen sympathy with my fellow creatures, for I seem to see clearly again that all are akin. The racial lines, which once were bitterly real, now serve nothing more than marking out a living mosaic of human beings. And even here men of the same color are like the ivory keys of one instrument where each represents all the rest, yet varies from them in pitch and quality of voice. And those creatures who are for a time mere echoes of another’s note are not unlike the fable of the thin sick man whose distorted shadow, dressed like a real creature, came to the old master to make him follow as a shadow. Thus with a compassion for all echoes in human guise, I greet the solemn-faced “native preacher” whom I find awaiting me. I listen with respect for God’s creature, though he mouth most strangely the jangling phrases of a bigoted creed. As our tribe is one large family, where every person is related to all the others, he addressed me: “Cousin, I came from the morning church service to talk with you.” (The Native preacher goes on to tell her of the reward of Heaven, the punishment of Hell, and the folly of the old beliefs.) … I offered midday meal to the converted Indian sitting wordless and with downcast face. No sooner had he risen from the table with “Cousin, I have relished it,” than the church bell rang. [sound of church bells and footsteps departing] Thither he hurried forth with his afternoon sermon. I watched him as he hastened along, his eyes bent fast upon the dusty road till he disappeared at the end of a quarter of a mile. … Still I would not forget that the pale-faced missionary and the hoodooed aborigine are both God’s creatures, though small indeed their own conceptions of Infinite Love. A wee child toddling in a wonder world, I prefer to their dogma my excursions into the natural gardens where the voice of the Great Spirit is heard in the twittering of birds, the rippling of mighty waters, and the sweet breathing of flowers. If this is Paganism, then at present, at least, I am a Pagan. [sounds of the prairie] Alright, we’re back. Now, what was it like for women on the Great Plains? Were Zitkála-Šá and her sisters among the plains tribes really drudges, as the Victorians would have us believe? Women Among the Lakota As we heard in the first episode of this series, for the Lakota, tasks were divided along gendered lines. This is not uncommon for pre-modern cultures, nor for modern ones for that matter – after all, Euro-American culture was arguably even more strictly divided at the time, but we’ll leave that as it lies. So, it’s not surprising to find a strict gender-coding of tasks. However, it seems plains tribes like the Lakota at this time were especially pronounced in this respect relative to other Native American tribes in North America. Anthropologist Raymond DeMallie explains: “In symbolic terms, the distinction between male and female was the single most important attribute for defining an individual in Lakota culture. Sex differences were emphasized in virtually every aspect of life. Masculinity and femininity were marked most importantly by behavioral differences. Sexual division of labor was very rigid and it may be said that behavior itself was the most important criterion differentiating male from female.” (DeMallie, p. 238) As the Lakota adapted to life on the plains, gender roles broke down around bison, divided between hunting and processing. To sum up what we learned in our first episode: If you were male, you were in charge of hunting. You scouted for bison, spied out the herd, organized the approach, made the kill, and transported it back to camp. You also defended and enlarged the tribe through raids and warfare. If you were female, you were in charge of processing. When the bison carcasses were brought back to camp by men, they were handed over to you for everything else necessary. Thus, your roles included cooking meat; drying meat into jerky; tanning hides; fashioning hides into clothing, bedding and tipi dressings; decorating hides; crafting utensils, tools, and implements; and generally manufacturing bison into every other product necessary for survival, comfort, and trade on the plains. You also did beadwork, and quillwork using dyed porcupine quills. When it came time to move the camp, it was your job to strike and pack the tipi, guard it during the move, and erect it again upon arrival. Finally, you gathered firewood, fetched water, and cared for children (DeMallie, p. 238). This gendered division between the hunting and processing of bison meant the male sphere was largely outside the camp, the female sphere inside. To Victorian observers, this appeared dangerously close to their own breakdown of male and female spheres, so they mist…
Were Lakota Women Slaves to their Husbands? - Sex on the Great Plains
Aug 01, 2022
Show notes
19th-century writers called Lakota women virtually enslaved to their husbands, but were they? Or were they skilled artisans, valued by the community, and empowered within their marriages? It turns out the working woman of the modern West owes much to the skilled craftswoman of the Great Plains.
Don't forget to subscribe, rate, and review. Support the show on Patreon at www.patreon.com/btnewberg. Research, writing, editing, and production by B. T. Newberg. Logo Design by Rachel Westhoff. Additional credits, references, and more at www.historyofsexpod.com.
If you had to choose between giving up your way of life or facing the death of your people, what would you do? What if it meant having to give up ever feeling like a man, a woman, or your authentic self again? Lakota historian Jeff Means is here to helps us understand that question.
Don’t forget to subscribe, rate, and review. Support the show on Patreon at www.patreon.com/btnewberg. Research, writing, editing, and production by B. T. Newberg. Logo Design by Rachel Westhoff. Additional credits, references, and more at www.historyofsexpod.com.
Means, Jeffrey. “From Buffalo to Beeves The Transformation of the Oglala Lakota Economy 1868-1889.” Thesis. University of Montana. 2001.
Means, Jeffrey. “Indians Shall Do Things In Common: Oglala Lakota Identity and Cattle-raising on the Pine Ridge Reservation” Montana: The Magazine of Western History. 2011, Autumn: pp. 3-21.
Means, Jeffrey. “Oglala Paths Oglala Choices: A Turning Point in Oglala Lakota Culture The Sioux Bill of 1889.” In: A Parallel History: Stories from Indian America. Cajune, Julie, Ed. UCLA Press: 2014-2015, submitted.
To Save the Lakota: An Interview with Dr. Jeff Means - Sex on the Great Plains
Jul 04, 2022
Show notes
If you had to choose between giving up your way of life or facing the death of your people, what would you do? What if it meant having to give up ever feeling like a man, a woman, or your authentic self again? Lakota historian Jeff Means is here to helps us understand that question.
How the Lakota Became Cowboys – Sex on the Great Plains
Jun 06, 2022
Show notes
https://archive.org/download/ho-s-70-byzantine-court-eunuchs/HoS67LakotaCowboys.mp3 After hunting bison for centuries, the Lakota suddenly switched to cattle in the late 19th century. Why did they hunt cattle? Why was it crucial to maintaining the gender norms of Lakota men, women, and those Two-Spirit folk called the winkte? And why was the cattle hunt their last best hope for survival? Special thanks to Dr. Jeff Means, Dr. Jon Cleland Host, and Neil McKay for help in the preparation of this series. Episode theme music courtesy of the Battling Sioux Singers. Don’t forget to subscribe, rate, and review. Support the show on Patreon at www.patreon.com/btnewberg. Research, writing, editing, and production by B. T. Newberg. Logo Design by Rachel Westhoff. Additional credits, references, and more at www.historyofsexpod.com. Transcript [sounds of the prairie and cattle lowing] The summer sun burns hot on the plain. Insects whiz from pasqueflower to pasqueflower. A herd of hundreds of cattle grazes on clumps of blue grama prairie grass. Branded into the beasts’ rumps is a peculiar symbol: a circle with two branch-like wings. Locals know it as the “Flying O.” Does it mark the property of some frontier rancher? The living wealth of some vast cattle baron? No, this is the mark of a people for whom this is no frontier, and for whom these cattle mean something very, very different. Suddenly, the cows’ eyes shoot wide. Ears perk up. Hooves stomp warily. Something is coming, or someone. [sound of galloping horses] Over a ridge crests a party of riders. They raise high their rifles and bows and shout war cries. The lumbering beasts dart, and the stampede begins. [sounds of the hunt] With practiced hands the riders guide the fleeing cattle, corralling them to keep the herd together. When the moment is right, they move in for the kill. As the beasts go down, children watch with awe as men earn honor by deed. Men are men again. Meanwhile, women move in to skin the creatures. They harvest not only the meat but also the hides essential to the craftsmanship that will bring them honor. Women are women again. But this is no callous slaughter. This is life sustaining life. As the heartbeat of the beasts fade, another beats stronger. Generations can be heard in that life-beat. This is a prayer, and an answer to a prayer. For to these people, this is their last best hope to save a way of life. This is the cattle hunt of the Lakota. (adapted from Means, 2001, p. 8) [sounds fade to silence] Wait… the cattle hunt of the Lakota? Shouldn’t that be bison? That B. T. Newberg guy must be really off his rocker this time. No, it’s true. For about two decades in the late 19th century, the Lakota became cowboys, albeit of a very different sort. Why did the Lakota hunt cattle? Why was it crucial to maintaining the gender norms of Lakota men, women, and those Two-Spirit folk, the winkte? And why was the cattle hunt their last best hope for survival? That’s what we’re talking about in today’s episode. I’m B. T. Newberg, and this is The History of Sex. [music] I’d like to thank our Patreon patron Miki Jennings for making this episode possible. I’d also like to thank Dr. Jeff Means, Dr. Jon Cleland Host, and Neil McKay for help in the preparation of this series. Folks, I record this show here in Minnesota on the ancestral lands of the Anishinaabeg, also called the Ojibwe, and the Očhéthi Šakówiŋ, better known to most as the Sioux, comprised of the Lakota, Dakota, and Nakota peoples. There was a time in the not too distant past when my ancestors called this the frontier, but there were already peoples here for whom it was no such thing. The meeting of our ancestors was sometimes peaceable, sometimes even mutually beneficial, but in the end wrought atrocities upon those native to this place, who have been striving to maintain their culture through waves of change ever since. Despite it all, they remain proud and vital. Folks, this is the beginning of our new series Sex on the Great Plains, looking at the same region as the Wild West but through the eyes of its native inhabitants. Specifically, we’ll be focusing on the Lakota. When you see Native Americans depicted in Western films, wearing eagle feather headdresses and riding horses across open range, that is mostly inspired by plains tribes like the Lakota. Often the depiction is completely inappropriate, transporting a specifically plains-based lifestyle to the Southwest desert and transposing it onto tribes who lived very differently in actual history. As a result, the impression in many people’s minds is that all Native Americans are more or less like the Lakota, when in fact they are just one tribe among hundreds, each with different cultures, identities, and languages. In actual fact, the traditional Lakota way of life is unique to them, and uniquely adapted to the Great Plains. They ranged across the expanse on horseback in a nomadic lifestyle, following herds of bison and striking fear into the hearts of their enemies. But according to historian and Oglala Lakota tribe member Jeff Means, by the 1860s, the bison were nearly gone from the plains (Means, 2011, p. 6). An entire way of life was at risk of disappearing. Deprived of the herds that once roamed in the tens of millions, the Lakota were brought to their knees. This was not military conquest. The Lakota had won Red Cloud’s War against the U.S. Army, and defeated General Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn. No, this was loss of a different kind. By the latter half of the nineteenth century, the Lakota knew they had to change. They could not sustain themselves without the base of their power: the bison. Nor could they sustain their culture. Men who once made their names in the hunt, and especially in the warfare that defended access to the hunt, had no way left to prove themselves. Women once famed for their craftsmanship at hides had nothing left to craft. Leaders who once earned power through generosity had no meat left to share. To them, the bison was not just a source of food and raw materials; it was the very lifeblood of their culture. Without it, they would die – unless, that is, they could find a substitute for the great shaggy beasts of the plains. And so, reluctantly, in 1868 they made peace with the United States, who guaranteed them a territory almost the size of Germany, and promised, in recognition of the loss of bison, a pound per day of beef on the hoof to every Lakota (Means, 2011, p. 7). Cattle were poor cousins of bison to be sure, but perhaps… perhaps they might do. It stung to rely on handouts from a government that had taken from them everything they had known, but they had no choice. With cattle, they could hunt again. They could craft again. They could lead again. They could be proud again. Men could be men again, and women could be women again. And the Two-Spirit winkte could be winkte again (by the way, we’ll have more to say about them in a future episode). In short, through cattle, it just might be possible that the Lakota could live as they once did: as a people of the plains. How did the Lakota come to this point? How did they develop gender norms that were centered around the mighty bison? And when the bison disappeared, how did they strive to preserve those norms by switching to cattle? Today, we’re going to see how the Lakota developed over time, changing again and again in response to new challenges, beginning with how they became a people of the plains in the first place. A Forest People Lakota culture is uniquely adapted to the Great Plains, but it was not always so. They began as forest people. Pre-contact histories in North America are notoriously difficult to reconstruct. According to one theory put forward by anthropologist Guy Gibbon and supported by tribal oral narratives, archaeological evidence, and linguistic patterns, the ancestry of the Lakota traces back to the northwoods around the Great Lakes in modern-day Wisconsin and Minnesota. According to this theory, the ancestors of the Lakota were bands of hunter-gatherers who moved into the Southwestern Great Lakes area by 800 CE. There, they may have interacted with some of the great mound-building cultures of the Mississippi. Then, sometime around 1300 CE, trade and conflict with the Oneata to the south led them to form together into a cohesive tribe (Gibbon, p. 43). This was not yet the Lakota, but what archaeologists refer to as the Psinomani Complex, psinomani being a Dakota word that means “wild rice gatherer.” It may have been at this time that they developed what Gibbon calls a “male warrior/supremacist complex” (p. 42). Setting aside the problems with that term for the moment, a development like this often coincides with the emergence of tribes. As Gibbon explains, tribalization is frequently spurred by conflict with neighboring aggressive and more highly-organized peoples, which leads bands to come together for mutual defense. This produces opportunities to gain status and authority through warfare, hence the tendency for tribal societies to privilege warriors. Associating this exclusively with male warriors is problematic in this case, however, because there may have been female warriors as well. The Psinomani Complex would eventually give birth to both the Lakota and Dakota tribes. While we have no records of female fighters among the Lakota, they were apparently fairly common among the Dakota. Anthropologist Beatrice Medicine writes of the Dakota: “…while women were tacitly barred from joining war parties, many did participate in war for glory as well as revenge, and some even led war expeditions (Ruth Landes, 1968: 49). Women who had achieved war honors played an important role in the winoxtca (the female equivalent of the male akicita or soldiers). These women were called upon to police other women in the campsite and to punish female offenders (1968: 69)” (Medicine, p. 274). That term Medicine uses, winoxtca, can also mean female elder, but here refers to women warriors. So, there you have it. There were female fighters. Yes, the vast majority were male, but female fighters were not unknown among the Dakota, and one might reasonably wonder if they were also present among their parent culture, the Psinomani Complex, and therefore among the ancestors of the Lakota. We can’t say so with confidence, but it’s certainly possible. In any case, this newly-tribalized warrior culture lived in the northwoods, harvesting wild rice, tapping maple trees, and hunting deer (Gibbon, p. 3). What were their gender norms like at this time? I tried to find out, but was not able to turn up any studies speculating on this. However, hunter-gatherer societies in general tend to divide tasks along gender lines, and the descendants of this early people show such divisions strongly. Both the Lakota and Dakota would come to allot hunting and fishing to men, and the processing of these animals to women. Horticulture and agriculture, when practiced, would also be allotted to women. Whether these task allocations were already customary at the time of the Psinomani Complex is difficult to say, but it would be a reasonable assumption. In any case, the Psinomani Complex persisted for several centuries in the Northwoods. The first non-indigenous record of this people comes from 1641, when a pair of French missionaries asked the Anishinaabeg, or Ojibwe, about them. As the story goes, the Anishinaabeg said they were “people of an alien tribe”, which in their language is na-towe-ssiwa. As the story goes, the French shortened this to Sioux, and that’s how they got their name (Gibbon, p. 2). This may or may not be true. Today some are fine with the name Sioux, while others, such as Jeff Means, have started to move away from it, preferring instead to be called the people of the Očhéthi Šakówiŋ or Seven Council Fires, and so that’s what we’ll call them from here on out. Into the Plains This people of the Seven Council Fires may have ventured into the prairie once or twice a year to hunt bison, but they were not yet a people of bison. That was soon to change, however, for several reasons. First, Anishinaabeg began to expand into their turf. This was partly the result of European colonization far to the east in New England, which pushed tribes westward, which in turn pushed their neighbors westward in a kind of domino effect, until finally the Anishinaabeg started pushing into the homeland of the Seven Council Fires. Second, influence came from the south as well. As Europeans explored up the Mississippi looking for furs, it created a profitable opportunity for local tribes. By the early 18th century, many were competing for a piece of the lucrative new trade with this alien people. Finally, a new technology became available: the horse. While horses are native to North America, they had gone extinct thousands of years earlier. Not until they were re-introduced by Europeans did the capacity for mounted travel become available again. This revolutionized life on the plains. Much as the horse enabled the Mongols to sweep across the steppes in Asia, it empowered the people of the Seven Council Fires to strike out across the Great Plains. By 1700, they were mounting up and moving out. Over the next hundred years, they left behind the familiarity of their forest homeland and exploded westward. As they struck out in all directions, they developed distinct identities formed around new ways of life. Some settled along the Mississippi and Minnesota Rivers, and got in on the fur trade. These became the Dakota. Meanwhile, those that went northward into present-day northern North Dakota, Montana, Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Alberta became the Yankton-Yanktonai Dakota, sometimes called the Nakota. Finally, a third group became nomads riding far in search of game, pushing across the Red River into present-day North and South Dakota, Wyoming, and Montana. These became the Lakota (Gibbon, p. 5). As their lifestyles changed, so too did their language, diverging into dialects. All three of these names – Dakota, and Nakota, and Lakota – are essentially the same word pronounced in three now-divergent dialects, but all roughly translatable as “the people” (Gibbon, p. 2). I should note at this point that there are other ways these people categorize their identities, you know, exactly who is a subsection of who, and next month we’ll hear Jeff Means give a slightly different breakdown, so I want to acknowledge that there are other legitimate ways of presenting this. But the for the sake of clarity, we just have to choose one and stick with it, and so we’ll go with this tripartite division in this series. This was how the Lakota developed their own unique identity: by roving far out onto the plains, and even more than their cousins, adopting a nomadic horseback lifestyle centered around the bison. What was that new culture like? And how did it affect their gender norms? We’re going to find that out next. Gender on the Plains We just saw how the Lakota emerged out of the early Psinomani Complex, who became the people of the Seven Council Fires, or Sioux, who then diverged into the Dakota, Nakota, and Lakota. Now, what did the new culture of the Lakota become, and how did their gender norms change? The answer to both lies in the great shaggy beast of the plains, the bison. The herds they found at this time numbered in the tens of millions. It was inconceivable that in a mere hundred years they would be all but gone, for in the 18th century, they seemed almost infinite. So abundant were the bison that the Lakota went all-in on this life-giving beast, shaping their entire culture around it. Gender norms became defined by how each interacted with bison. If you were male, you were in charge of hunting. You scouted for bison, spied out the herd, organized the approach, made the kill, and transported it back to camp. You might also share out the bison meat you procured, along with other posses…
How the Lakota Became Cowboys - Sex on the Great Plains
Jun 06, 2022
Show notes
After hunting bison for centuries, the Lakota suddenly switched to cattle in the late 19th century. Why did they hunt cattle? Why was it crucial to maintaining the gender norms of Lakota men, women, and those Two-Spirit folk called the winkte? And why was the cattle hunt their last best hope for survival?
Special thanks to Dr. Jeff Means, Dr. Jon Cleland Host, and Neil McKay for help in the preparation of this series. Episode theme music courtesy of the Battling Sioux Singers.
Don't forget to subscribe, rate, and review. Support the show on Patreon at www.patreon.com/btnewberg. Research, writing, editing, and production by B. T. Newberg. Logo Design by Rachel Westhoff. Additional credits, references, and more at www.historyofsexpod.com.
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