Navigating this contentious terrain, scholar and author Dina Gilio-Whitaker (Colville) confronts the multifaceted challenges of Native identity in her seminal new book, Who Gets to be Indian? Ethnic Fraud, Disenrollment, and Other Difficult Conversations About Native American Identity. Gilio-Whitaker argues for an honest, rational, and vulnerable conversation, steering clear of the toxic echo chambers of social media. Her work delves into both "pretendianism" and its inverse counterpart, tribal disenrollment – the process by which individuals are stripped of their tribal citizenship – positing both as direct consequences of enduring colonial pressures.

The reluctance of many Native people to engage publicly with the topic of identity fraud stems directly from the historical trauma of colonialism. For centuries, Indigenous identities have been systematically attacked, disrupted, and redefined by external forces. This relentless assault, encompassing forced assimilation policies, the imposition of blood quantum laws, residential schools, and the violent displacement from ancestral lands, has fragmented communities and families, leading to a deep-seated confusion about what it truly means to be Native in a post-colonial world. Gilio-Whitaker explains that when identity is viewed through the lens of individual "free speech logics" and private property, rather than communal belonging, it becomes a personal possession, ripe for appropriation or manipulation. Historically, Native communities have often been characterized by a profound generosity and openness, a trait that, while noble, has sometimes been exploited by those making spurious claims.

The question of verifiable lineage lies at the heart of this controversy. For a significant majority of individuals affiliated with federally recognized tribes, and indeed many others, genealogical lines are clearly established and meticulously documented. Indigenous peoples are, arguably, among the most thoroughly documented populations in North America, a legacy of colonial efforts to categorize, control, and ultimately dispossess them. However, the same colonial disruptions that created these extensive records also created immense ruptures—lost records, forced removals, and hidden histories—that can make genealogical connections genuinely difficult to trace for some, yet also provide fertile ground for "wishful thinking" or outright fabrication by others. The challenge lies in distinguishing between legitimate, albeit complex, ancestral connections and entirely invented ones.

Some critics fear that publicly addressing the problem of identity fraud might arm non-Native individuals with ammunition to further undermine Indigenous communities. Gilio-Whitaker, however, counters that ignoring the issue has proven far more detrimental, allowing the problem to fester and proliferate. Her book aims to fill a critical void, offering a rational, historically grounded framework for understanding the nuances of identity claims. By providing a language and context for these phenomena, she hopes to elevate the conversation beyond the often-destructive "call-out culture" prevalent in online spaces, which, while sometimes necessary, can be counterproductive to genuine healing and accountability.

The crucial question of when an individual’s family history becomes a matter of public scrutiny is delicate. Gilio-Whitaker advocates for the development of clear, community-based vetting processes. The initial step, she suggests, is simply to ask individuals making Native claims to explain their connections and affiliations. This process, she argues, should normalize accountability. Her goal is not to engage in "calling people out" but to foster an environment where individuals understand their responsibility to the communities they claim. She draws a powerful parallel to the concept of "stolen valor," where individuals falsely claiming military service are rightly scrutinized and held accountable, highlighting the ethical imperative for similar scrutiny regarding Indigenous identity.

Gilio-Whitaker posits that both the phenomenon of individuals becoming "non-Indian" through disenrollment and "non-Indians" becoming "Indian" through fraudulent claims are deeply rooted in the intertwined forces of capitalism and colonialism. These systems forcibly detached Indigenous North Americans from their traditional, land-based ways of life, integrating them into a cash-based economic framework. In a Eurocentric worldview, land is primarily real estate, a commodity to be owned and exploited. By blurring or seizing Indigenous identities, settler capitalism gains access not only to land and resources but also to the cultural capital and political leverage that comes with Indigenous status. As scholar Kim TallBear eloquently states, identity can be seen as "the last thing that settlers can take," underscoring how the theft of identity becomes an insidious extension of the theft of land and sovereignty.

Extricating ourselves from this colonial "cul-de-sac" of identity, Gilio-Whitaker suggests, requires a fundamental shift back to collectivist thinking. Colonialism has profoundly impacted the minds of all, Indigenous and non-Indigenous alike, immersing societies in individualistic frameworks. The path forward involves a conscious effort to decolonize thought, re-normalizing Indigenous ways of understanding self and community. This means re-adopting Indigenous knowledge systems, where identity is not an individual possession but is defined by one’s relationships and responsibilities within a collective. Traditional protocols, such as introducing oneself by lineage and community, exemplify this relational understanding. When someone identifies as Indigenous, the expectation should naturally be to articulate that connection according to tribal protocols, rather than through abstract individual assertion.

Urban pan-Indian culture presents a complex facet of this discussion. While Gilio-Whitaker acknowledges its potential as an "on-ramp" for fraudulent claims, she also recognizes its vital role in providing a sense of community and cultural belonging for Native people displaced from their reservations and homelands, often as a result of mid-20th-century federal relocation policies. These urban spaces offer a necessary "facsimile of culture" for those seeking connection. However, she stresses the critical need for robust systems of accountability within these intertribal contexts. The historical generosity and trusting nature of Native people have, at times, allowed these spaces to be infiltrated by posers. Gilio-Whitaker speaks from personal experience, having been "duped" multiple times during the rise of urban pan-Indianism in the 1960s and 70s, highlighting the pervasive nature of such deceptions and the deep personal impact they can have. The unexamined assumption that all participants in historical movements like the Red Power Movement were authentically Native further complicates the historical narrative and underscores the need for greater scrutiny.

Gilio-Whitaker’s decision to weave her own family history and struggles with identity into her book is a deliberate act of vulnerability. She reveals her lifelong journey of feeling "not enough," recognizing this sentiment as a widespread experience among Native people, regardless of blood quantum or enrollment status. This personal disclosure serves to normalize feelings of uncertainty and create a safe space for others to share their own stories, fostering the very conversation her book aims to ignite.

For individuals genuinely seeking to reconnect with their tribal cultural heritage while avoiding the pitfalls of race-shifting or fraudulent claims, Gilio-Whitaker offers clear advice: do the diligent genealogical homework. This process demands rigorous self-examination and a willingness to accept the findings, even if they contradict long-held family narratives or personal aspirations. Unlike figures such as Elizabeth Warren or Elizabeth Hoover, who faced public reckoning for unsubstantiated claims, genuine reconnection requires a verifiable lineage and an unwavering commitment to accountability to the communities one claims. If a clear line of connection, absent a history of being raised within that community, cannot be established through meticulous research, then the individual must be prepared to accept that the claimed identity may simply not be there. This rigorous, honest self-assessment is paramount to moving beyond the current quagmire and rebuilding trust within and around Indigenous identities.