Jasmine Neosh has already accomplished much, and she’s just getting started. In her final year of law school at the University of Michigan, she’s simultaneously obtaining a master’s degree in environmental justice. Both her passion for the law and commitment to the environment were formed during her youth and undergrad years, which were mostly spent growing up on, or adjacent to, her tribe’s reservation in Wisconsin’s woodlands.
Initially pursuing a career in the arts, a turning point came in 2016 when she began seeing news coverage of Indigenous people protesting the Dakota Access Pipeline near the Standing Rock Reservation, an experience that helped set her on her current course. As part of our Native American Heritage Month celebration, we talked with Ms. Neosh about her personal journey, her tribe’s recent history, the importance of the Tribal College and University system, what motivated her to take up the banjo, and much more.
In regard to describing your ethnicity, do you have a preference?
It depends on the context of the situation. If I’m just talking about myself, I self-identify as a member of the Bear Clan of the Menominee Indian Tribe of Wisconsin – a tribe that originated in the upper peninsula of what’s now called Michigan.
If I'm talking about people like me, folks whose ancestors were the original inhabitants of this land, I usually go with the term Indigenous. Regarding the law, Indian is the legal term of art, so I go with that.
Where did you grow up?
I was born in Chicago, but spent most of my youth and undergrad years – either on my tribe’s reservation, or in the town bordering it, surrounded by the forests of north central Wisconsin
What was that experience like?
It was interesting in both good and bad ways. It’s a very remote place, with lots of poverty. But I loved the forests that surrounded us. Forests that were there because of the sustainable way my tribe managed them – unlike the commercial companies that destroyed forests through purely profit-based management. When I describe what it’s like, I say it is kind of like you imagine what it would be like to grow up on Endor [a lushly forested moon featured in the Star Wars saga].
It was also really cool being able to grow up in a place where community is at the front and center of everything you do.
Why is that important?
It forces you to consider the broader implications of individual actions, which makes it more difficult for a person to be selfish, or so self-centered.
What inspired you to pursue a career in law?
Weirdly enough, I think I started saying that I wanted to be a lawyer when I was 6 or 7 years old, even though I didn't know anything about lawyers. There weren't any lawyers in my family. I’d never even met one. The only thing I knew about lawyers was that they were really smart, and they helped people. So, it's something I’ve always aspired to.
But I've had a couple of careers before this. I did some fiction writing. I did a lot of community organizing. I was thinking for a while about becoming an ecologist. In fact, my undergraduate work focused on cultural ecology and Indigenous research methods. That led to even more of a focus on climate change and the rights of Indigenous people.
A real turning point came in 2016, when I began seeing news coverage of protests against the Dakota Access Pipeline taking place at the Standing Rock Indian Reservation. Seeing what was happening there compelled me to return to school with the idea of using the law to make a difference.
What was it about those protests that motivated you in such a significant way?
I think the greatest thing is that I realized how it’s really on us as Native people to protect our communities in the way that they deserve to be protected. As a Menominee, I was raised with a sense of responsibility to my community and my homeland rather than privilege, and I think that’s something fairly common to a lot of Native people. Non-Native allies are really important, but since the land and the water and the non-human relatives -- meaning everything that's not human but with whom we have a reciprocal relationship of care are so central to our existence -- it’s really on us to be at the forefront of protecting them, the way that we have always done.
What’s something you’d like people to know about you?
One thing people might find interesting is that I went to a tribal college. The outgrowth of a movement by Indigenous people that began in the 1960s, that resulted in there now being 32 fully accredited Tribal Colleges and Universities (TCUs) on or near Indian reservations. They provide an important way for young Indigenous people to learn about their culture, and obtain the education and skills needed to thrive. They also serve as an important economic stimulus for the largely rural places where they are located.
Because of all the benefits these institutions provide, I’ve been doing a lot of advocacy to help ensure their funding doesn’t get cut amid the chaotic cuts to federal funding going on now. The focus is on organizing folks to advocate for the sustained funding of TCUs, because there's still a lot of programs that are in jeopardy, a lot of internships that got cut, a lot of grants and scholarships that got cut, so it's kind of a day-by-day thing.
Anything else you’d like to point out?
I think my tribe’s modern history is worth noting because we played an important role in establishing legal precedent around the issue of termination as a federally recognized tribe.
Since the 1800s, unlike most of the lumber industry in Wisconsin, we have sustainably managed our forests. Our ability to thrive was solely dependent on our relationship with the land and taking good care of it. This is part of the reason why we were targeted for the termination of our federal recognition. The termination, which occurred through the 1950s and 60s, was an attempt to terminate the trust relationship owed to us by the federal government and, in my personal opinion, an attempt to punish us through policy for our recent success in holding the federal government accountable for its mismanagement of our resources. The results were devastating to our tribe. In some ways, we are still rebuilding to this day.
Our people took the legal battle all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court, where, in 1968, we achieved a landmark victory in Menominee Tribe of Indians v. United States, which helped to protect our treaty rights through termination. At the same time, advocacy efforts both in policy spaces and on the ground, led by people like Ada Deer and many others, resulted in the Restoration Act of 1973, which reversed the federal government’s termination policy and restored our federal status. This was an unheard-of feat—a small Tribe from rural Wisconsin marshalling support from other Tribes, the state, people in the Nixon administration, as well as winning the hearts and minds of the public, to convince the federal government to reverse a federal policy harmful to Native people and get them to recognize the value of Native sovereignty and leadership. I grew up with that in the background of my life, getting to see and even know the people who were responsible for that monumental shift, and it’s something that stays with me to this day.
What do you see as the significance of that victory?
It was important because it cemented the idea that our future, and our way of life, was solely within our hands. That we can overcome seemingly impossible odds just by sticking to the things that have kept us going through millennia: community, creativity, solidarity, bridge-building, and diplomacy. The people that did those things were brilliant, dedicated people, but they were also just normal people like me who stepped up into the moment when the moment called for someone to do that. And it impressed the idea that if they can do it, we can do it too.
On a lighter note, we’ve seen pictures of you playing what’s been described as a “uniquely crafted” fretless banjo. Is there a story behind that?
It’s a habit that I picked up when I moved back to Wisconsin. I am a longtime lover of folk music and old-time Americana and spent much of my teen years in the Chicago folk music scene, which is very robust. So, when I saw the opportunity to get my hands on this gorgeous cherry and maple banjo, I leapt on it. It’s sort of a safety blanket for me now as I move from place to place.
This being Native American Heritage Month, is there any movie you’d recommend people watch?
What I’d really like to see is someone make a movie about the federal government’s efforts to take away our sovereignty and the incredible effort made to regain it. I think that would be a great movie. I also can’t recommend the television series Reservation Dogs enough.
Is there any particular music that is in heavy rotation on your play list these days?
I like a little bit of everything. Folk music, as I mentioned. Banjo player Roscoe Holcomb is a favorite of mine in that genre. But I’ve also been going through a big New Order phase for the last year or so. Kendrick Lamar has been getting me through law school, also. Keeps me energized.
What, if anything, gives you optimism these days?
A lot of things, actually. One thing that really gives me hope is seeing how many just absolutely incredible young Native people are pursuing a career in law. Seeing how hard life has been for so many of these people, and how they’ve taken that pain and channeled it into wanting to help other people and in wanting to make the door wider for the people who will come after them, even while they themselves are still students. It is an incredible community to be a part of.
I am also encouraged by the number of protests taking place in opposition to attacks on free speech, protesting genocide, and really taking ownership of the world that we live in. No one wants to be out on the streets all the time protesting, but it is really good to see that more and more people are stepping up and speaking out to say that what they see happening is not acceptable, and offering a different, far more positive vision for this country going forward.