By Nikki Babri
Recent resignations of tenured professors following allegations of “ethnic fraud” have intensified debates about Indigenous identity verification in academia. At UC Irvine, Alicia Carroll, associate professor of comparative literature, approaches these controversies not through the lens of individual cases, but by examining the broader systems that shape how Indigenous identity is understood, documented and validated in academic spaces.
Personal journey meets professional research
Carroll’s path to studying Indigenous identity is deeply personal. Born to a teenage mother in foster care and taken to live with their father at age four, Carroll grew up spending weekends with their mother. “During these visits, my mother would share childhood memories of her Cherokee grandpa, who exposed her to cultural knowledge and practices while growing food, hiking, fishing, hunting and cooking,” Carroll recalls. “I never met my mom’s grandpa, but my mom told me to remember his stories and know myself as Cherokee. Throughout my adult life I have tried to find the meaning of my mother’s stories for myself.”
Carroll’s family history planted seeds that would grow during their undergraduate years at the University of Kansas where they became interested in Native American literature. Some Native-authored stories reminded Carroll of their mother and reawaked their desire to learn more about Native culture. They pursued a Ph.D. at UC Riverside where they met the Cherokee Community of the Inland Empire (CCIE), one of 25 “at-large” communities organized by Cherokee Nation citizens living outside the reservation in Oklahoma. CCIE welcomed Carroll to become a member, which they were eligible to do even though they are not a citizen. The at-large communities facilitate alliances and direct the formation of responsible, respectful and reciprocal relationships between the Cherokee Nation and people who have family histories of Cherokee ancestry but no present connection to a tribe.
“My mother’s stories influenced my academic interests and search for community, but my work in the field of Indigenous studies seeks to learn about Native peoples’ cultural productions and share what I’ve learned through my teaching and writing, not to speak for Native peoples or represent myself as someone with expertise that comes from lived experiences,” Carroll explains. When allegations against scholars emerged, Carroll consulted with a Cherokee Nation elected official about their own position as someone with family stories of Cherokee ancestry but no documentation. They were assured that their participation in the community was appropriate since they had never claimed Cherokee Nation citizenship or sought resources designated for enrolled tribal members.
Literary landscapes of identity
Their forthcoming book blends literary criticism, memoir and historical research to examine the crucial distinction between what they term “reconnection journeys” – experiences of people seeking to understand their family histories and potential Indigenous connections – and intentional misrepresentation of identity for personal gain.
Carroll draws on an extensive body of historical and contemporary literature, including works by Daniel Heath Justice, Theda Perdue and Circe Sturm. Their analysis spans from Chief John Ross, whose leadership of the Cherokee Nation demonstrated how matrilineal clan affiliation rather than blood quantum traditionally defined Cherokee identity, to Chief Wilma Mankiller, whose autobiography reveals how Cherokee belonging transcends Western concepts of race through cultural integration.
The research pays particular attention to complex figures like Sylvester Clark Long, whose story illustrates how accusations of “ethnic fraud” sometimes reinforce settler colonial racial politics and erase historical intersections of Black and Native identities. Through these works and recent scholarship like Unpapered: Writers Consider Native American Identity and Cultural Belonging, Carroll explores how Cherokee writers have consistently challenged colonial documentation systems while maintaining cultural distinctiveness.
This historical context feels particularly relevant now, as recent controversies about Indigenous identity in academia have prompted Carroll to examine their own position in the field. “I’m not interested in policing other people’s identities,” they explain. “But professionally, I have felt deeply disappointed by these professors’ failure to meaningfully address the charges against them. I had hoped that each would engage in thoughtful public discourse and contribute to critical debates around these complicated issues.”
Turning inward, Carroll plans to conduct genealogical investigations into their own family history, working with experts and traveling to access physical records. They face the challenge of navigating the intricacies of documenting ancestral connections complicated by generations of family separation and displacement. Rather than using commercial genealogy services, they plan to conduct research through direct access to historical archives and documents that align their ethical stance against settler colonialism.
Despite conducting this research, they emphasize that documented proof of Cherokee ancestry wouldn’t fundamentally change their relationship to Cherokee identity. “I believe my mother’s stories. And I’ve found and cultivated community among Cherokee people in California who claim me as family.” They’re approaching their research with a focus on meaningful community participation rather than pursuing official citizenship.
Redefining Cherokee identity
Through participating in Cherokee Nation history courses, Carroll learned that Cherokee identity comprises multiple components, of which Cherokee people may have one or more: nationality, ancestry or ethnicity, cultural knowledge and community belonging. “Cherokee citizenship is not an ethnic identity; not even only a community, relational or kinship identity. It’s a nationality, a political affiliation with a sovereign Native nation. The Cherokee Nation acknowledges that citizenship is not the only valid form of Cherokee identity,” they assert.
As a comparative literature scholar whose research focuses on Native American and Indigenous studies, feminist studies and queer theory, Carroll examines how documentation requirements can conflict with traditional understandings of belonging. “The question of whether someone is an ethnic fraud often comes down to whether they can provide documented evidence of lineal descent,” they explain. “This erases historical Cherokee ways of belonging and normalizes the idea that the only legitimate form of kinship comes from heterosexual reproduction, which ignores more expansive ways of making family.”
While Cherokee Nation citizenship today requires documented descent from an ancestor listed on the Dawes Rolls, a federal census taken from 1898-1906 to assign allotments to tribal citizens when Oklahoma became a state, many Cherokee people had already left Indian Territory due to political unrest and violence, while others actively refused to sign the rolls as opposition to private property ownership. These historical complexities mean that many people with Cherokee ancestry cannot qualify for citizenship today.
The Cherokee Nation’s approach to citizenship, which requires documented lineage but rejects minimum blood quantum requirements unlike some other Nations or tribes, reflects its historically distinct understanding of identity and belonging. It further represents a form of resistance to settler colonial attempts to reduce the number of people who can claim Native ancestry and land rights.
Transforming academic spaces
Another facet of Carroll’s research examines how universities have historically approached Native American identity verification and the implications of these practices. When they arrived at UCI, they were the only faculty member specializing in Native American studies focused on North America. “I talked to as many administrators as I could about how this is not acceptable,” they recall. “I needed an intellectual community.”
Through their advocacy, UCI has hired five additional Native American and Indigenous Studies scholars. However, Carroll argues that current debates about ethnic fraud often mask deeper institutional issues. “It seems egregious to me that the consequences of institutional negligence are being dealt with at the individual level, with the defamation and punishment of specific professors, and institutions are being let off the hook for their histories of failing to follow the advice of Native communities who want something more structural to be done about this problem.”
These systemic issues directly shape how Carroll approaches their role as both scholar and teacher. “Have I been asked to speak about Native subjects because people think I am a scholar with Native ancestry rather than a researcher who specializes in Native studies?” they reflect. Almost every time they share their field of study with a new academic acquaintance, the inevitable next question is whether they are Native – a question that implies that the authority of Native studies scholarship is based on scholars’ identities rather than their research, an implication with which Carroll strongly disagrees.
For Carroll, these interactions underscore the importance of transparency about one’s position while highlighting a broader concern. “I think it’s dangerous to send a message that only Native people can or should engage with Native studies, which I fear may be an implication of the current debates,” they warn. “All U.S. residents are responsible for knowing and being accountable for the history and present reality of settler colonialism.”
With this in mind, Carroll advocates for institutional changes, including requiring Native Studies courses for all students, collaborating with Native Studies colleagues to develop guidelines for community based research practices and working with UCI to develop more comprehensive support for Native students and stronger relationships with local tribal communities.
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