Sports as Communal Identity

Most of the students in my summer theater production course are athletes. They’re part of a cohort of Menominee Nation High School students taking classes that will culminate with them earning an associate’s degree in liberal studies from College of Menominee Nation. They’re an excellent group—astute, engaged, and inquisitive. During breaks between lectures about acting choices and set designs, my athletic pupils share recollections about seasons past and hopes for future prowess. Although varied in detail specific to their sports, what is consistent is the connection between their teams and communities. Never one to miss an opportunity to make a classroom experience didactic, I highlight how the sense of combined purpose seems to drive their endeavors. As tribal college students, I ask them to consider how their participation in sports is an expression of their nation’s collective identity.

History offers a multitude of stories about Indigenous sports, but sometimes the power of the community gets lost in the accomplishments of the individual. Sac and Fox tribal member Jim Thorpe may have been the greatest all-around athlete who ever lived, but he didn’t win Carlisle football games on his own. Thorpe’s celebrated teams were comprised of the most gifted Native athletes from across Turtle Island, a fact that I am reminded of every time I discuss the accomplishments of those teams with elders. Carlisle’s reach spanned across the United States, and so it stands to reason that there are descendants of the players from those football dynasties on every TCU roster. It does not surprise me that so many people have told me personal stories about their ancestors’ gridiron success. Team sports help build a sense of communal pride, and, win or lose, they teach the power of working towards a common goal.

Journalist John M. Glionna’s book No Friday Night Lights: Reservation Football on the Edge of America chronicles a rural Nevada football team that lost every game it played. Coached by a descendant of the slain and disrespected Paiute Chief Egan, the eight-man football team is comprised mostly of players from the Fort McDermitt Indian Reservation. Playing only four games a year, the team is typically shut out by opponents who are privileged with more players and resources than the McDermitt Bulldogs can muster. Yet, what resonates from the text is the pride the district feels for their players. The team finds its purpose through the connections among its players, coaches, and fans, sometimes overtly educating the book’s author with lessons in humility, graciousness, and tenacity. It’s an unquestionable underdog story, but the truth is that the team wins whenever they refuse to surrender to insurmountable odds.

While football helped raise Indigenous team sports’ profile to the national consciousness, that game is hardly the most revered across Indian Country. S.L. Price’s recent book The American Game: History and Hope in the Country of Lacrosse offers a primer on that sport’s storied history. A decorated former staff writer for Sports Illustrated, Price captures how the game created prior to Western contact remains a nexus for exclusive competitive sports and inclusive Indigenous culture. Exploring how lacrosse transformed from a medicine game that any Indigenous male could play “to deal with personal strife” to a game that is often associated with privileged, upper-class white players, Price centers his work in the reality that the Haudenosaunee have used the game to uphold their sovereignty. For the first time since 1908, lacrosse will be included in the 2028 Olympic games and the Haudenosaunee Nation’s team is seeking to compete under their own flag. Grounded in archival research, sports scores, and a multitude of interviews, Price’s text offers reasons why the sport remains an expression of Indigenous cultural affirmation.

It’s no wonder that sports are a classroom conversation starter because these chats rarely touch on box scores, records, or even accolades. While many of those accomplishments are worth recognizing, what most captures my students’ attention is sharing and hearing each other’s stories. Often these discussions are passionate, and sometimes the storyteller even recreates the moves they made to pull off the memorable play. The theater professor in me can attest that I’m impressed by the demonstrative reenactments, but what should inspire us all is our students’ commitment to playing their roles both within and beyond the classroom. Some might see athletics merely as a way to channel their energy, but what every celebratory pass, juke, and score actually reveals is how being part of a collective can shape one’s communal identity.

Ryan Winn, PhD teaches in the Liberal Studies Department at College of Menominee Nation.  

Editor’s note: The opinions expressed in the Inquisitive Academic or any other opinion columns published by the Tribal College Journal (TCJ) do not necessarily reflect the opinions of TCJ or the American Indian Higher Education Consortium. 

References

Glionna, J.M. (2024). No Friday Night Lights: Reservation Football on the Edge of America. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press.

Price, S.L. (2025). The American Game: History and Hope in the Country of Lacrosse. New York: Atlantic Monthly Press.