The [Chicago American Indian Center](https://aicchicago.org/) was founded in 1953, but has existed in several locations across its history. At each place, it has worked to promote community across Native people living in Chicago, advocate for the welfare of Native people in the city, and sustain and educate others about Native cultural and artistic traditions. The center moved to this Wilson Avenue location after Verna Ewen bequeathed money for the building's purchase after her death. In its first year (under Leroy Wesaw as director) the address was sometimes given as 4605 N Paulina Street.

The [Chicago American Indian Center](https://aicchicago.org/) was created in 1953, at a time of great change for the Chicago Native community. Native peoples had been moving to and from Chicago since forced removal in the 1830s, but the Bureau of Indian Affairs's voluntary relocation program (1952-1972) meant that there was a significant increase in Chicago's Native population. In response to this change, a group of organizations including the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA), the Chicago Citizens’ Advisory Board, the American Indian Club, the Indian Council Fire, and the American Friends Service Committee began meeting in July of 1953 with the intention of creating connections between Native Americans moving to the city and the city itself. These meetings and the work of Native people already in the city led to the creation of the All-Tribes American Indian Center, which opened its doors in a rented space on LaSalle Drive in late 1953. At the LaSalle location the American Indian Center began hosting annual powwows and formed clubs to facilitate community building in a growing intertribal Chicago Native community. The Canoe Club, the Photography Club, an all Native Boy Scout troop, a day camp, educational services, and job assistance were a few of the many clubs or programs developed in the first decade of the Center. Leaders within the American Indian Center and the Chicago Native community including Ben Bearskin, Frank Fastwolf, Tom Greenwood, Dorothy Holstein, Robinson Johnson, Willard LaMere, and many others participated in the planning for the famed Chicago American Indian Conference in July 1961 at the University of Chicago. The conference drew Native activists from across country to Chicago and resulted in drafting The Declaration of Indian Purpose, a document outlining the needs and priorities of Native communities that was delivered to President Kennedy. In 1963, the center moved to North Broadway for several years, before moving to Uptown on West Wilson Avenue in 1967. Here the Center continued to host annual powwows, hold gatherings, develop programs, and participate in activism that asserted the presence of Native peoples in the city. In 2017, the American Indian Center moved out of Uptown and into its current location in Albany Park. Over the past seventy years, the Center, its leadership, and the Chicago Native community have worked to uphold the legacy of the institution to serve the community and sustain the Center’s mission. It remains one of the oldest American Indian centers in the country.

This monument was commissioned by previous fur trader, eventual lumber magnate, and Chicago real estate investor, Martin L. Ryerson, who employed John J. Boyle to create “The Alarm.” Originally commissioned under the name “The Indian Family,” the monument is dedicated to the Odawa, one of several Indigenous peoples whose homelands include Chicago. The statue’s pedestal also holds a relief panel on each side, titled, “The Peace Pipe,” “The Corn Dance,” “Forestry,” and “The Hunt." Ryerson, sought to memorialize his relationship with the Odawa, but the representation ultimately cements Native people in time. Moreover, the monument was commissioned in the same period that violence against Native people was still ongoing in the West and Native children were being sent to Indian boarding schools. The creation of representations like these allowed settlers to romanticize Native people and think of them as entirely historical, while ignoring the ongoing atrocities against them. Representations (and misrepresentations) of Native history and people are present across public art and architecture in Chicago. Other aspects of the built environment feature colonial narratives that marginalize Native people or erase them altogether. On this map, we have selected a examples of iconography to feature, but you can see a full map of many more sites across Chicago [here](https://felt.com/map/Iconography-Map-5qLDiEuoRFanMm87gPzO7C?loc=41.9384,-87.9581,10.99z&share=1).

Our next stop is 411 N La Salle, the site of the Chicago American Indian Center from its founding in 1953 to 1963, when it moved to a new location. Today, the American Indian Center continues to offer community programming from its location in Albany Park. The center was initially founded during a time of great change for the Chicago Native community. Native people had been moving to and from Chicago since forced removal in the 1830s, but the Bureau of Indian Affairs's voluntary relocation program (1952-1972) meant that there was a significant increase in Chicago's Native population. In response to this change, a group of organizations including the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA), the Chicago Citizens’ Advisory Board, the American Indian Club, the Indian Council Fire, and the American Friends Service Committee began meeting in July of 1953 with the intention of creating connections between Native Americans moving to the city and the city itself. These meetings and the work of Native people already in the city led to the creation of the All-Tribes American Indian Center, which opened its doors here in late 1953. At this location, the American Indian Center began hosting annual powwows and formed clubs to facilitate community building in a growing intertribal Chicago Native community. The Canoe Club, the Photography Club, an all Native Boy Scout troop, a day camp, educational services, and job assistance were a few of the many clubs or programs developed in the first decade of the Center. Over the past seventy years, the Center, its leadership, and the Chicago Native community have worked to uphold the legacy of the institution to serve the community and sustain the Center’s mission. It remains one of the oldest American Indian centers in the country. *Proceed south on La Salle Avenue about .2 miles across the LaSalle bridge to the southeast corner. Look back across the bridge to locate the Merchandise Mart building.*

Founded in 2007 by Dr. Dorene Wiese (White Earth Band Ojibwe), the [American Indian Association of Illinois (AIAI)](https://www.chicago-american-indian-edu.org/) is among the most recently Native founded and driven organizations in Chicago. AIAI provides student centered assistance and services for students in public, private, and tribal schools not only in Chicago but throughout the United States. A few of the programs implemented by AIAI include the Medicine Shield Indian School Program, the Black Hawk Performance Company, and the Native American Language Institute. AIAI's leadership is dedicated to grounding the Native youth of the city today in the longstanding activism within Chicago and individual's ties to their tribal nations. Its leadership under Dr. Wiese and others also connects the organization to institutions that are no longer active, including the Institute of Native American Development (INAD) at Truman College and Native American Educational Services (NAES) College. This connection has grounded IAIA in the goals of many Native driven organizations in Chicago, to provide space for Native students to receive support and make their mark within the rich history of the Native community within the city.

The portage between the Chicago and Des Plaines Rivers served as an important piece of infrastructure for Native peoples long before European settlers arrived in the region. The portage was often called “Mud Lake” because of the way it fluctuated between marsh and dry land over the changing seasons. Called the Portage des Chenes, or “Portage of the Oaks,” by the French, it was one of two portages that connected the Mississippi River watershed to Lake Michigan and the Great Lakes via the Illinois River (the other portage was between the Des Plaines River and the Calumet River). These portages allowed Native people to travel and trade throughout the region for millennia. Louis Jolliet and Jesuit Father Jacques Marquette, the first European settlers to traverse the Indigenous portage in 1673, were guided every step of the way by Native people. Jolliet and Marquette drew maps based on the expertise provided by Odawa people at the Jesuit Mission of St. Ignace on the upper peninsula of Michigan. They were then led by Myaamia guides as they traveled to the Mississippi River via the difficult Wisconsin and Fox River portage. On their way back, Kaskaskia guides led them through the Chicago portage to Lake Michigan. The entire journey would have been impossible without the extensive knowledge of the Native people who had used the portage for generations. In spite of this support, the monuments at the site today (one of which is pictured here) show Marquette leading the journey, while the Native guide crouches behind him, in a submissive position. This is one of several depictions of Marquette and Jolliet throughout Chicago, each of which perpetuates a false narrative of the subservience of Native people.

On August 18th, 1835, roughly 5,000 Potawatomi converged at the Agency House to receive their final annuity payment from the 1833 Treaty of Chicago. At the conclusion of this meeting, the Potawatomi began singing and drumming, and approximately 800 began to dance as a procession formed. With their hair done in a roached style and “decorated with a profusion of hawk’s and eagle’s feathers, some strung together so as to extend nearly to the ground,” Potawatomi mourners began dancing with their weapons in-hand as myriad more beat drums, sticks, and other hollow objects together. Judge John Dean Caton, a resident of Chicago at the time of the procession, recounted before an audience 35 years later at the Chicago Historical Society. As Caton writes, “[f]oreheads, cheeks, and noses were covered with curved stripes of red vermilion, which were edged with black points… [they were] principally armed with tomahawks and clubs… [and] were led (sic) by what answered for a band of music…” From the Council House they marched west, dancing as they moved along the Chicago riverfront “stopping in front of every house they passed,” before crossing the North Branch of the river. After crossing the bridge, the procession made its way south before again crossing the South Branch on the Corduroy Bridge (located roughly at the site of the present-day Lake street bridge). As they crossed, the procession halted in front of the Sauganash Hotel as its patrons stared in awe. The processioners continued to dance, and from the hotel windows, Caton stated that he and the other patrons could see the entirety of the procession as it snaked across the South Branch back up to the North Branch bridge. Caton and other onlookers misinterpreted this procession as a “war dance,” but in fact, it was a mourning procession that served as a visible act of defiance against Chicago’s alleged “founders.” It illustrates that Neshnabé people did not willingly cede the land on Lake Michigan’s shores. It was taken from them, and they protested their loss.

Prior to Jean Baptiste Point du Sable’s arrival in Chicago sometime in the 1780s, Native people long used what is now called Chicago as a hub for trade. DuSable, likely born before 1750 in what is now the nation of Haiti, was a newcomer in this established Native world. In order to join that existing trade network, he had to integrate himself into existing relational networks (often called kinship) and build trust with Native people. To do so, he married Kitihawa, a Potawatomi woman who would become essential in his ability to safely and successfully trade and travel through the region. It is likely that Kitihawa would have instructed him about Indigenous protocols for trade. She also probably served as a translator and language instructor for his conversations with other traders (which would mostly have been conducted in Neshnabémwen, the language of the Potawatomi, Ojibwe, and Odawa people). Together, they built a home and trading post here in 1789, making the mouth of the Chicago River an even more valuable trading site that rivaled those on the St. Joseph River and at Kekionga (near present-day Fort Wayne, IN). In 1800, the house was acquired by John Kinzie, a fur trader of Scots-Irish descent born in Quebec City, and by 1831, it included as many as five rooms, a front green space, and a small farm in the back with a dairy, bake-house, lodging-house, and stables. Though the Northwest Ordinance outlawed slavery, the Kinzies kept enslaved people in bondage on the property. When the War of 1812 made the Chicago trading post untenable, the Kinzies abandoned it. Another Potawatomi woman, Archange Ouillemette, lived next door and managed the farm and property before the Kinzies returned after the war. *There is a duplicate point for this site on the Downtown Walking Tour*

As seen in this relief sculpture, French explorer Louis Jolliet and Jesuit priest Father Jacques Marquette, are often credited with discovering Chicago in 1673. However, Native people had been living at and traveling through Chicago for centuries before their arrival. Likewise, their journey through the Chicago portage, a critical link between the Great Lakes and the Mississippi River watershed, was made possible with the assistance of Native guides. Jolliet and Marquette drew maps based on the expertise provided by Odawa people at the Jesuit Mission of St. Ignace on the upper peninsula of Michigan. They were then led by Myaamia guides as they traveled to the Mississippi River via the difficult Wisconsin and Fox River portage. It was Native people they encountered near the convergence of the Arkansas and Mississippi Rivers who told them about the Chicago portage, and Kaskaskia people (of the larger Illinois Confederation) that led them safely through the portage. Despite their significant reliance on Indigenous knowledge and assistance, the legacy of Jolliet and Marquette often overshadows the leadership and contributions of Native people. In representations like this one, Marquette and Jolliet are centered and appear to be leading, while Native people cower behind or below them in subservient positions. *Proceed north a short distance to the bust of Jean Baptiste Point du Sable in Pioneer Court.*

Mark Beaubien built a tavern on the South Side of the river across from Wolf Point. A canoe fairy attached by rope connected the tavern to the houses across the river making it Chicago’s first bridge. He later named it the Sauganash Hotel after Sauganash (Billy Caldwell) a significant Potawatomi leader who helped negotiate the 1829, 1832, and 1833 treaties. Caldwell was born to a Mohawk mother and British father, but was integrated into Potawatomi kinship networks through marriage. He was a skilled negotiator who could successfully work with both Native and American leaders, and he aimed to arrange fair payment and new land for his people in the face of forced removal from the Chicago region. He was given a plot of land in the 1829 treaty on the northwest side of the city that now makes up the Edgebrook and Sauganash neighborhoods, the latter of which bears his name. However, when forced removal came in 1835, he led his people west.

Andrea Carlson’s mural along the Chicago rivier waterfront reminds us “Bodéwadmikik ėthë yéyék/You are on Potawatomi Land.” Created in June 2021 and displayed until 2024, Carlson’s (oil on canvas) mural spanned across five banners and measured 15 feet high and 266 feet long. The land beneath the banner is part of Chicago's [lakefill](https://www.whoselakefront.com/lakefill): land that was added to the original lakeshore beginning in the 19th century, after treaties ceding the land up to the lake were signed. Because this land did not exist when the treaties were signed, it remains unceded. In 1917, the Pokagon Band of Potawatomi sued the city for this land, in a case (Williams v. City of Chicago) that went all the way to the Supreme Court, which ruled against the Pokagon Band of Potawatomi. In light of the 2020 protests which removed two Christopher Columbus from Chicago, and inspired by the Williams v. City of Chicago (1917), Carlson wanted to create a reminder and declaration of the original inhabitants and their ongoing presence within Chicago. This mural, not only created by a Native artist, but also in community with the Pokagon Band of Potawatomi, draws attention to the man-made lakefront as a breach of the treaty agreement. By declaring and reminding audiences that we are on Potawatomi land, Carlson pulls us to recognize that we reside not only on land which was stolen but also that colonial occupation continues today. By placing “You are on Potawatomi Land” in the present tense, she stresses that Indigenous people retain their connections to this place and perpetually belong here. Representations (and misrepresentations) of Native history and people are present across public art and architecture in Chicago. Other aspects of the built environment feature colonial narratives that marginalize Native people or erase them altogether. On this map, we have selected a examples of iconography to feature, but you can see a full map of many more sites across Chicago [here](https://felt.com/map/Iconography-Map-5qLDiEuoRFanMm87gPzO7C?loc=41.8713,-87.8547,10.79z&share=1). *There is a duplicate point for this site on the Downtown Walking Tour*

The [Newberry Library](https://www.newberry.org/) is a cultural institution whose collections and exhibitions offer a portal to more than six centuries of human history. Among its many collections, the Newberry is home to the [Edward E. Ayer American Indian and Indigenous Studies Collection](https://www.newberry.org/collection/subjects/american-indian-and-indigenous-studies), which includes thousands of print and manuscript materials related to American Indian and Indigenous people. The collection includes content on Indigenous people in North and South America from pole to pole, coast to coast, and beyond into the Pacific. In 1972, Métis author and activist D'Arcy McNickle helped found the Center for the History of the American Indian at the library, which aimed to promote the research of Native American history, increase access to the collection for Native communities, and revise the ways Native peoples had been misrepresented in these histories. The center was later renamed the [D'Arcy McNickle Center for American Indian and Indigenous Studies](https://www.newberry.org/research/research-centers/mcnickle-center), and has provided training to graduate students and presented public programming and project, often in collaboration with the Chicago Native community. Several of its current projects aim toward expanding the accessibility of its collections to tribal communities and collaborating with the Native communities to align with Native perspectives, knowledge systems, and cultural practices. Merge this text with the above: Initially founded in 1972 as the Center for the History of the American Indian, the D’Arcy McMickle Center was established to promote the research of Native American history and revise the ways Native peoples have been misrepresented in these histories. Located within the Newberry Library in Chicago it is named after Salish Kootenai activist, writer, and its first director D’Arcy McNickle. Since its founding the Center has provided training in American Indian and Indigenous Studies to students and presented public programming for the Chicago Native community. Several of its current projects aim toward expanding the accessibility of its collections to tribal communities and collaborating with the Native communities to align with Native perspectives, knowledge systems, and cultural practices.

By the 1893 World’s Fair, Sitting Bull (Lakota) was a national celebrity. He had defeated Custer's forces in the Battle of Little Bighorn. He was then forced to go on tour with Bill Cody's Wild West Shows where he was paid fifty dollars a week as a performer. He was murdered by police in a raid three years before the World's Fair, but this building purporting to be his “cabin” was an attempt to profit from his image.

When Fort Dearborn was built in 1803, it was a military outpost in a landscape still occupied and controlled by Native people. The fort sat across the Chicago River from the fur trading post and was built within only six square miles of land that had been ceded in the 1795 Treaty of Greenville. All other land surrounding those six miles was still owned by Native people until future treaty cessions in 1816. In the decade after the fort was built, Neshnabé people living in the area began to increasingly see it as a threat to their land and lifeways. These groups contested the Treaty of Greenville and argued that no representatives from Chicago were present at the treaty signing, and they grew increasingly frustrated with white settlers who had begun to farm the land and disrupt the environment that Native people had long maintained. These tensions erupted in the Battle of Fort Dearborn. After the battle, Fort Dearborn was raided for what supplies had not been destroyed and the building was burned to the ground. The Neshnabé people who lived and traded in the area continued to do so with some non-Native relatives. Beyond the mouth of the river, the labor of the Potawatomi, Odawa Sauk, Ho-Chunk, Myaamia, and Kickapoo people made the fur industry in the city immensely profitable. When the Americans returned to Chicago in 1816 and rebuilt Fort Dearborn, they once again entered an already thriving market.

Representations (and misrepresentations) of Native history and people are present across public art and architecture in Chicago. Other aspects of the built environment feature colonial narratives that marginalize Native people or erase them altogether. On this map, we have selected a examples of iconography to feature, but you can see a full map of many more sites across Chicago [here](https://felt.com/map/Iconography-Map-5qLDiEuoRFanMm87gPzO7C?loc=41.9384,-87.9581,10.99z&share=1). These stained glass images in the Baptistry of the Queen of All Saints Cathedral retell a story of colonial expansion and assimilation. Looking across the room you can see Christopher Columbus’s arrival in America, the baptism of Chief Sauganash (Billy Caldwell) and his family by Father Badin, the settlement of Fort Dearborn, and lastly, the signing of the Treaty of 1833 (although it is labeled as 1835) which orchestrated the removal of Neshnabé (Potawatomi, Ojibwe and Odawa) people from Illinois.

This beautiful bricolage mosaic mural was created in 2009 by Cynthia Weiss, Tracy Van Duinen, and Todd Osborne after being commissioned by 48th Ward Alderman Mary Ann Smith. Prior to its construction, Weiss, Duinen and Todd facilitated community discussions with various Native community members and organizations in Chicago to discuss how they want to be represented. These discussions spanned across two years before the current design was solidified. The location of the mural was also selected deliberately for how roads like Rodgers, Broadway, and even the general area around the mural’s location, were all former Native trails. The mural is intended to represent the past and current Native American community in Chicago, but deliberately avoided generalizing “Indian culture.” The imagery on the mural seeks to connect generations of the Indigenous community by incorporating figures from traditional culture alongside ‘gaps’ in the mural in which mirror fragments allow the viewer to reflect how they too occupy a part within this greater art piece and community. The mural’s name was inspired by Ojibwe artist E. Donald “Eddy” Two-Rivers’ poem “Indian Land Dancing.” Learn more about E. Donald Two-Rivers [here](https://chicagoliteraryhof.org/inductees/profile/e-donald-two-rivers). Representations (and misrepresentations) of Native history and people are present across public art and architecture in Chicago. Other aspects of the built environment feature colonial narratives that marginalize Native people or erase them altogether. On this map, we have selected a examples of iconography to feature, but you can see a full map of many more sites across Chicago [here](https://felt.com/map/Iconography-Map-5qLDiEuoRFanMm87gPzO7C?loc=41.9384,-87.9581,10.99z&share=1).

Carlos Montezuma was a Yavapai Apache physician who lived from 1866 to 1923. He graduated from high school, college, and medical school in Illinois, and established his medical practice in Chicago in 1896. While we do not know if this location at 100 N State Street was his home or his office, the majority of his correspondence was directed to this address. Having worked as a physician for the Bureau of Indian Affairs, or BIA, Montezuma saw how the federal system failed to fully address the needs of Native people. He was among those in the early 20th century who believed in the need to abolish the Bureau of Indian Affairs, or BIA. Montezuma published a newsletter called *[Wassaja](https://collections.newberry.org/asset-management/2KXJ8ZSQGHBQS?&WS=SearchResults)* that frequently critiqued the BIA, and he was a founder of a national advocacy organization called the Society of American Indians (SAI). SAI, was a national intertribal advocacy group for Indigenous rights in the early 1900s. Members were often middle class Native professionals like Carlos Montezuma. While there were different opinions within the organization, SAI members often believed that some amount of assimilation into white society was necessary for Native people to be successful. Others outside of the SAI (and some within it) did not believe assimilation was the answer. *Proceed north three blocks north on State, stopping in front of the Chicago Theatre (.3 miles).*

Here, in what is known as Pioneer Court, we can see two sites related to the importance of Native women in early Chicago. First, we have this bust depicting Jean Baptiste Point du Sable, a fur trader who was of African and Haitian descent and came to Chicago in the 1780s. Du Sable was married to Kitihawa, a Potawatomi woman, and their relationship is an important example of early kinship between Black and Native communities. Together, they established a trading post at this site. Another French fur trader, Antoine Ouilmette, and his Potawatomi wife Archange lived nearby, at approximately the site of Tribune Tower, just north of where you stand. Antoine led a business of leading people through the Chicago portage, but it's likely that Archange was actually the one who carried the knowledge of the fluctuating waterway and helped, or taught her husband how to, lead people through it. Archange was from a powerful Native-French family, the Chevaliers. Her father was also a French fur trader, and her sisters, Catherine and Suzanne, also married white fur traders. Archange and Antoine lived in Chicago for several decades. They helped protect several white fur trading families in the aftermath of the Battle of Fort Dearborn and were influential in the negotiation of the 1829 Treaty of Prairie du Chien. This treaty reserved land for Archange and her family in what are now the townships of Evanston and Wilmette, and the city Wilmette is named for her family. These two households give us examples of the many relationships between Native women and non-Native fur traders, who had to establish and maintain relationships with the Native peoples who controlled these lands in order to safely travel through them and be successful traders. Ojibwe scholar Michael Witgen describes this process clearly: Settlers who were new to the region either became ndenwémagen (relatives in the Potawatomi language) or myeg yegwan (foreigners). In order to be successful in the fur trade, they had to become relatives. But Native women like Archange and Kitihawa were not passive participants in these marriages. Instead, they were extending the long-practiced value of incorporating newcomers into their communities. They introduced their fur trading husbands to the people they would need to know to do business. They managed the businesses locally while their husbands traded across the Great Lakes region for long periods of time. They translated across various Native languages, and educated their husbands on protocols for greetings, gift exchange, and communication. *Proceed north to the corner of Hubbard and Michigan Avenue, then turn left on Hubbard and walk 3 blocks west to the corner of Hubbard and State (a total of .3 miles). From this intersection, locate Marina City (often known as the "corn cob" towers), walking south along State if needed. Please note, there are stairs along Hubbard Ave. Alternatively, you can walk back to the south side of the river and take one of the ramps down to the Chicago Riverwalk, then proceed west along the path. You can view marina city from this side of the river.*

Native peoples from around the United States came to the 1933 World's Fair to perform. Many came as a part of the official American Indian Villages, but the Seminole Village was a privately operated exhibit on the Midway. It was created entirely for entertainment (a popular attraction was the alligator wrestling) and had very little information about Native people's daily life.

A full-scale replica of Fort Dearborn was constructed for the 1933 World's Fair. The fort’s blockhouse and barracks were built on the fair's Midway, overlooking Lake Michigan at the end of 26th Street. Fort Dearborn was used as a symbol of the colonial era of Chicago during the 1903 Chicago Centennial Celebration where the first Fort Dearborn replica was constructed. Native actors, along with white actors portraying colonial soldiers and pioneers, were hired for the Fort Dearborn exhibit. While that dynamic reified an adversarial image of Native people, it created a space where local Native people could tell stories directly to fair visitors. Some of the only Indigenous people who lived in Chicago to work at the fair were hired for the Fort Dearborn exhibit. They posed for photos and worked as guides at Fort Dearborn–sharing stories of Indigenous history. To learn more about the role of Fort Dearborn in Chicago’s Indigenous history, see the “[Re-Thinking Chicago’s Founding City Story](https://map.indigenous-chicago.org/li/3b070b7b-ecba-4eef-85d7-e161890a0839).”

The Battle of Fort Dearborn did not occur at the fort, but on the shores of Lake Michigan, on August 15, 1812. It ended in the death of more than fifty American soldiers, women, and children and fifteen Potawatomi fighters. The violence is often included in stories of Chicago’s founding, but rarely do these narratives include the larger context of which the battle was one part. In June of 1812, Shawnee leader Tecumseh was coordinating an intertribal resistance movement against American invasion, and he and his allies laid out a plan to attack several American forts later that summer: Fort Madison in present-day Iowa, Fort Wayne and Fort Harrison in present-day Indiana, and Fort Dearborn at Chicago. The attacks would be coordinated through wampum belts, small beads made from shells that were strung together to record histories and communicate messages. However, as Tecumseh and his allies made plans, war broke out between the Americans and the British. In the midst of this colonial conflict, many Native leaders, including Tecumseh and Chicago Potawatomi leader Main Poc, chose to ally with the British, hoping that the defeat of the Americans would stop the increasing flood of white settlers into Native lands. Knowing this, the commander of Fort Dearborn, Captain Nathan Heald, organized a meeting with Potawatomi leaders on August 15, 1812 to negotiate the American surrender of the fort and secure their safe passage to Fort Wayne (in modern-day Indiana). They came to an agreement, but the US forces instantly went back on their word and destroyed the supplies they had agreed to distribute to the Potawatomi. The night before the battle, a wampum belt was delivered to Potawatomi leader Mad Sturgeon signaling war should begin. Since those at Fort Dearborn had been ordered to evacuate the next day, it was an ideal time to attack the American garrison and the betrayal by Heald had further angered Potawatomi leadership.On the morning of the evacuation from the fort, Potawatomi fighters, along with Kickapoo, Sauk, and Ho-Chunk allies, attacked the convoy of American soldiers, civilians, and their Myaamia allies who were leaving the fort. Until very recently, Chicagoans have mistakenly called the events that followed a massacre, but most historians now call it the Battle of Fort Dearborn, in part because of its place within the larger War of 1812 and Tecumseh’s resistance movement.

Native peoples from around the United States came to work at the 1933 Century of Progress International Exposition, or World's Fair. Most came as performers, but many artisans came to sell artworks and other items. Craftspeople earned $1.00 a day. This trading post was one of the places where art created by Native peoples was sold. The fair Committee on Arts and Crafts created a special Indian Arts and Crafts Board to regulate the sale of Native art. While the Indian Arts and Crafts Board was formed to provide opportunities for Native peoples to make a living at the fair, fair organizers at the 1933 fair were similarly constricting and paternalistic towards Indigenous people as they were at the 1893 fair. Likewise, the Indian Arts and Crafts Board wouldn’t allow Indigenous people to sell items that included factory-made beads because they wanted to maintain the narrative that Indigenous people were not modern.

People from all over the world gathered for the 1893 World's Columbian Exposition, or the 1893 World’s Fair, and that included many Native peoples from around the country. Like most people at the fair, many Indigenous people traveled there to work, to perform, or to sell goods. Others protested the fair. Simon Pokagon wrote the pamphlet critical of the fair, "A Red Man's Rebuke" (later "A Red Man's Greeting") on birchbark and distributed it at the fair. Upon reading it, Chicago Mayor Carter Harrison requested that Pokagon become involved with some ceremonial aspects of the fair. This included Pokagon riding on a float on "Chicago Day" and performing in a tableau of him signing the 1833 Treaty of Chicago, which his father had actually signed 60 years earlier. Harrison then accepted the treaty at a ceremony attended by 70,000 people in front of the "Columbian Liberty Bell." Pokagon wrote a speech for the event in which he gave his vision for the future of Indigenous people in America. Using his new-found publicity from the World’s Fair, Pokagon became a prominent activist for Indigenous rights before he died in 1899.

The Institute for Native American Development (INAD) was founded in 1979 after Truman College received a $27,920 grant from the Illinois State Board of Education's Department of Adult, Vocational, and Technical Education. Michael Limas (Diné) proposed the grant and acted as INAD's first director. Under Limas's leadership and INAD's mostly Native staff, the previously low enrollment of Native students in the Chicago City College system gradually rose. INAD focused on the specific circumstances each student faced to attend college, and organized from this approach within the typical structures of a college. Despite facing budget cuts that limited the extent of support they could offer, the program focused on academic counseling, financial aid, and job placement. By the time INAD was shut down and merged with other services to help students of all backgrounds in 2002, it had enabled almost 2,300 Native people to attend Truman College. 

Listed in the Chicago American Indian Service Directory as one of the "American Indian Owned and Operated Businesses in the Chicago and Metropolitan Areas" the Chicago Indian Artist's Guild had Sharon Skolnick (Fort Sill Apache) as its proprietor. In the 1970’s it had a gallery on the fourth floor of the American Indian Center on Wilson. Skolnick also founded the Okee-Chee Wild Horse Gallery in Andersonville to continue to highlight the work of Native artists within Chicago.

Mainstream narratives of Chicago’s founding have primarily featured European and American settlers. But stories of René-Robert Cavelier Sieur de La Salle, Jacques Marquette, and Louis Jolliet as visionary adventurers and John Kinzie and Jean Baptiste Point Du Sable as founding settlers have concealed a much more complicated reality. In fact, Indigenous people lived on the land now called Chicago a long time before Europeans set foot here, and many remain here today. Indigenous people used this area for seasonal and more permanent village sites, to gather food sources like wild rice and wild onions (or ramps), and to travel to other parts of the larger Great Lakes and Mississippi River networks. The first European settlers entered into an already existing network of trade and familial relationships created before their arrival. How does this change the way we understand the founding of Chicago as a city? This City Story re-centers Indigenous people to encourage a re-thinking of the familiar “founding” myths. It casts aside unnecessary superlatives like “first” settlers and “last” Native peoples in order to understand the more complicated origins of Chicago. Sources Alfred Theodore Andreas, *History of Chicago: From the Earliest Period to the Present Time* (Chicago: A. T. Andreas, 1884) Ann Durkin Keating, *Rising up from Indian Country: The Battle of Fort Dearborn and the Birth of Chicago* (Chicago: University Of Chicago Press, 2012) Juliette Kinzie, *Wau-Bun, the “Early Day” in the North-West* (New York: Derby & Jackson, 1856) Jean M. O'Brien, *Firsting and Lasting: Writing Indians Out of Existence in New England* (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2010) Terry Straus, ed., *Indians of the Chicago Area* (Chicago, Ill: NAES College, 1990).

This monument is one of several dedicated to Jesuit Father Jacques Marquette, the first non-Native settler to traverse the Chicago portage in 1673. However he and his party, which included French explorer Louis Jolliet, were guided every step of the way by Native people. Jolliet and Marquette drew maps based on the expertise provided by Odawa people at the Jesuit Mission of St. Ignace on the upper peninsula of Michigan. They were then led by Myaamia guides as they traveled to the Mississippi River via the difficult Wisconsin and Fox River portage. On their way back, Kaskaskia guides led them through the Chicago portage to Lake Michigan. The entire journey would have been impossible without the extensive knowledge of the Native people who had used the portage for generations. In spite of this support, monuments across the city show Marquette leading the journey, while Native guides crouch behind him or turn to the side, in submissive positions. This is one of several depictions of Marquette throughout Chicago, each of which perpetuates a false narrative of the subservience of Native people. Representations (and misrepresentations) of Native history and people are present across public art and architecture in Chicago. Other aspects of the built environment feature colonial narratives that marginalize Native people or erase them altogether. On this map, we have selected a examples of iconography to feature, but you can see a full map of many more sites across Chicago [here](https://felt.com/map/Iconography-Map-5qLDiEuoRFanMm87gPzO7C?loc=41.9384,-87.9581,10.99z&share=1).

This statue of French explorer and fur trader Robert Cavelier de La Salle was created by artist Count Jacques de la Liang and commissioned by Lambert Tree in 1889. Originally casted in bronze in Belgium and transported to Chicago, this statue commemorates La Salle as he "claims" what is now known as Louisiana in 1682 and searched for the mouth of the Mississippi River. Although unable to reach where the Mississippi flows into the Gulf of Mexico, he extended French claims into Texas, enabling the later US claim following the Louisiana Purchase. Lambert Tree, apart from commissioning another Chicago monument, Cyrus Dallin’s “A Signal of Peace,” also created artist studios hoping to retain visiting artists from the Chicago’s World Fair. Representations (and misrepresentations) of Native history and people are present across public art and architecture in Chicago. Other aspects of the built environment feature colonial narratives that marginalize Native people or erase them altogether. On this map, we have selected a examples of iconography to feature, but you can see a full map of many more sites across Chicago [here](https://felt.com/map/Iconography-Map-5qLDiEuoRFanMm87gPzO7C?loc=41.9384,-87.9581,10.99z&share=1).

Our tour begins at the site where the "You Are On Potawatomi Land" banner was displayed from 2021 to 2024. We have intentionally started this tour with the present, to emphasize that although Native people were forcibly removed from this place, the many tribes who still consider Chicago to be part of their ancestral homelands, still maintain connections to this place. These include the Potawatomi, Ojibwe, and Odawa, the many tribes within the Illinois Confederation, and the Myaamia, Ho-Chunk, Sauk, Meskwaki, Menominee, Kickapoo, and Mascouten. This mural, created by Ojibwe artist Andrea Carlson in 2021, highlights these ongoing connections. Land in Chicago was ceded through four treaties, but the land on which we stand and over which this mural stood did not exist when those treaties we're signed. In fact, the majority of the land east of Michigan avenue did not exist when those treaties were signed, and thus remains unceded. Originally, the Chicago River curved sharply, forming a protective sandbar ideal for canoes and wildlife. But after the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, the land was extended into the lake, creating new territory that was not covered by the treaties. In 1917, the Pokagon Band of Potawatomi sued for this land, though the Supreme Court ruled against them. A more recent victory occurred in April 2024 when the Prairie Band of Potawatomi reclaimed 130 acres of land in DeKalb County that was illegally sold, marking a significant moment in the ongoing struggle for land justice. The Prairie Band of Potawatomi is the first federally-recognized tribal nation in Illinois. *Proceed north about .1 miles across the DuSable bridge to the northeast corner, where you will see the Discoverers relief. On you way across, notice the other plaque dedicated to Marquette and Joliet.*

After its incorporation into the city of Chicago in the 1880s Uptown worked to compete with downtown, leading to the construction of well-known landmarks such as the Uptown Theatre, the Aragon Ballroom, and the Green Mill Lounge. The Great Depression led to a once thriving area with luxury housing to be broken down into smaller apartments that could be cheaply rented. This was the Uptown that White Appalachians, African Americans, and Native Americans encountered when federal policies or economic necessity drove them to migrate to the neighborhood from across the country from the 1950’s through the 1970’s. Native people that moved to Chicago were motivated by economic necessity or pushed by federal policies created by the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) seeking to assimilate them into American society. These policies included the voluntary relocation program (1952-1972) followed by the relocation Act of 1956, other job placement programs, and decades of other assimilation policies. Chicago was chosen by the BIA as one of five original relocation sites for relocation due to the high volume of factory work and other jobs, along with it being an urban setting that was seen as being in opposition to Native reservations. But Chicago had already been chosen by Native people. It had been a site of [Native villages](https://felt.com/map/Chicagoland-Village-Site-Map-MlC9A1aS5T9AKwafrD8Eq7DB?loc=41.892,-88.929,7.53z&share=1) prior to the establishment of the city, and those who remained in spite of removals or moved to the city did not always see it as being in opposition to their home communities. This Chicago Native community that existed prior to relocation founded the Indian Council Fire, the American Indian Club, and worked with other groups to create the foundations of the institutions that would follow. This Native community was scattered throughout the city, not concentrated in one neighborhood. In its first nine years the voluntary relocation program relocated almost 5,000 Native peoples to Chicago. The need for housing for the mass number of people, and the low paying jobs many were forced to take meant that many were forced into cheap housing around the city, with Uptown becoming the neighborhood with the largest population of Natives. Native people also came together to support one another when the BIA failed to provide the housing, jobs, and support that it had promised. In opposition to the efforts to assimilate Native people, relocation resulted in the creation of a new, intertribal community in which people supported one another through mutual aid. Sources: Ann Durkin Keating, ed. *Chicago’s Neighborhoods and Suburbs: A Historical Guide.* (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2008: 286). James B. LaGrand. *Indian Metropolis: Native Americans in Chicago, 1945-75*. (Champaign: University of Illinois Press, 2002). John J. Laukaitis. *Community Self-Determination: American Indian Education in Chicago, 1952-1996*. (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2015). Douglas K. Miller. *Indians on the Move: Native American Mobility and Urbanization in the Twentieth Century*. (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2019). Chicago American Indian Oral History Project Records - Native Voices in the City manuscript, Newberry Library.

The [Chicago American Indian Community Collaborative (CAICC)](https://chicagoaicc.com/) was established in 2012 and consists of fifteen Native American organizations and programs that are focused on “improving conditions for Native Americans in the Chicago area.” CAICC was founded to create cohesion across the many organizations that serve the Native community and provide a unified voice in a city where Native perspectives are often ignored and invisible. From its beginning, CAICC has established goals to meet the current and future needs of Native Americans who continue to call Chicago home and to sustain connections to Chicago’s Native past. Today, CAICC maintains four subcommittees that attend to pressing issues for the Chicago Native community. Among the organization's greatest accomplishments include: hosting an annual Education Conference that brings together leaders in Native education from across the nation; holding two Native American Summits in 2022 and 2024 at the state capitol to call attention to community priorities; and assisting in [the passage of two state bills](https://chicagoaicc.com/native-american-history-hb1633-school-dress-policy-sb1446/): HB1633, which mandates the teaching of Native history in K-12 classrooms, and SB1446, which ensures that Native students are allowed to wear culturally significant regalia at graduation ceremonies.

The Agency House is where the US government engaged with Native people, especially regarding past treaties. This is where the Native signers of past treaties such as the 1829 Treaty of Prairie du Chien collected annuity payments for land ceded. Chicago’s first Indian Agent, Charles Jouett, moved his family into the Agency House in 1805. The Jouett family employed a Pottawatomi woman, Nokenoqua, as a housekeeper and held at least one enslaved person in bondage there. Alexander Wolcott was appointed as Indian Agent in 1817. It is believed that Wolcott worked with Antoine Ouilmette to recruit Alexander Robinson to negotiate the three treaties in 1829, 1832, and 1833 that lead to the removal of Anishinaabe and the official founding of Chicago as an American city.

The “Big Chief” steel and fiberglass statue stands at 30 feet tall (current world’s tallest "cigar store Indian") where Mead Ave. meets the Southwest highway in Oak Lawn. Depicting a Native American man with a headdress, the figure is shown with one arm raised covering his eyes from the sun and the other holding a bundle of sticks (possibly tobacco). Created by Wisconsin based company Creative Display, it was first bought for $14,000 by the now closed Cooke County Tobacco Warehouse. Like other so-called “Cigar Store Indians,” this iconography has been used nationally as advertisement for tobacco since the 17th century in England. Sometimes referred to as their much smaller renditions, “Virginie Men,” these tabletop statues were displayed in Eastern U.S. states to advertise tobacco sales but have since been enlarged and displayed outside of businesses for the same purpose. Since the closure of the Cook County Tobacco Warehouse in 1998, Cardinal Liquor Barn Inc. purchased the statue for $10,000. Jim Shirazi, Cardinal Liquor’s owner, has since spent over $30,000 relocating, cleaning, and restoring the statue. In 2015, Shirazi had the statue repainted, reportedly adding greater detail to the headdress plumage, retouching the buckskin traditional clothing and changing the blue sash to green. Another report remarks that since its relocation the repairs had fixed areas on the statue where it had been “pierced by arrows” while sitting on top of the Tobacco Warehouse. Representations (and misrepresentations) of Native history and people are present across public art and architecture in Chicago. Other aspects of the built environment feature colonial narratives that marginalize Native people or erase them altogether. On this map, we have selected a examples of iconography to feature, but you can see a full map of many more sites across Chicago [here](https://felt.com/map/Iconography-Map-5qLDiEuoRFanMm87gPzO7C?loc=41.9384,-87.9581,10.99z&share=1).

The [Chicago American Indian Center](https://aicchicago.org/) was founded in 1953, but has existed in several locations across its history. At each place, it has worked to promote community across Native people living in Chicago, advocate for the welfare of Native people in the city, and sustain and educate others about Native cultural and artistic traditions.

Located on the ninth floor of the old main Post Office, the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) office was occupied several times by Native activists who were advocating for more resources and more of a voice within the BIA in the late 1960s and early 1970s. The sit-in on December 26, 1969 was organized by the Native American Committee, a group formed within the American Indian Center to support Red Power activism. The committee occupied the BIA office to support the occupation of Alcatraz Island (1969-1971) by the group Indians of All Tribes and other Native activists. By December, the Alcatraz occupation had entered its second month of what would become a two-year occupation. Another one of the most publicized sit-ins by Native activists in Chicago occurred on Monday March 23, 1970. This was part of a coordinated mass sit-in campaign that also included five other BIA offices in Denver, Colorado, Santa Fe, New Mexico, Sacramento, California, Cleveland, Ohio, and Minneapolis, Minnesota. Leaders of the American Indian Movement (AIM) and other Native institutions argued that the BIA needed to assist Natives that lived off of reservations. The protests also critiqued the BIA more broadly, especially policies like the voluntary relocation program and Termination. This sit-in at the Chicago BIA office resulted in 23 arrests on trespassing charges including Minnie Bacon, Mike Chosa, and Steven Fastwolf. However, like other national-level protests, these sit-ins also brought national attention to issues Native communities faced in cities and on reservations. Native activists sought aid to help with housing, health, job, and food security, which they had been promised through treaties and through the voluntary relocation program. These sit-ins were Native communities' way of exerting their right to aid.

Founded by Donald 'Eddy' Two-Rivers and Beverly Moeser in the early 1990s, the Red Path Theatre Company originated within the Institute of Native American Development at Truman College. It wrote, produced, and performed plays in Truman College’s theater and in theaters through the Midwest. It was the only Native American owned theater company in Chicago throughout the 1990s, and sponsored Native art and cultural events such as the First Nations Annual Film and Video Festival. They promoted Chicago as a place Native art was created and appreciated. 

Established in Schaumburg, Illinois in 2005, the [Trickster Cultural Center](https://www.tricksterculturalcenter.org/) features contemporary Native American art and works to provide space for Native artists to show their work along with educating people on the impact of Native American art. Named for the trickster archetype in Native American traditions that teaches life lessons and other truths, the Trickster Cultural Center positions itself in this legacy of the trickster by creating an environment to educate others about the present-day Native communities. Alongside other Native driven and founded institutions in and around Chicago, the Trickster Cultural Center supports community efforts to provide culturally focused education for Native youth through summer and cultural camps. The organization has also led the National Gathering of American Indian Veterans in Wheaton, Illinois since 2015, and this has led to a shift in its original mission statement to now promote the legacy of Native veterans alongside contemporary Native art.

The Bureau of Indian Affairs created a replica of an Indian boarding school on the 1893 World’s Fair grounds. The United States Commissioner of Indian Affairs Thomas Morgan saw the fair as an opportunity to promote Indian boarding schools to the world. He saw the Indian school and anthropology exhibits as contrasting images that illustrated his white supremacist ideology regarding Indigenous people, stating: “the new [the indian school building exhibit] and the old [the Anthropology exhibit] can be sharply contrasted and though the old may attract popular attention by its picturesqueness the new will impress the thoughtful with the hopefulness of the outlook and the wisdom, as well as fairness, of extending to the weaker the helpful hand of the stronger race.” Morgan’s patriarchal vision of Indian boarding schools worked in tandem with the Anthropology exhibit overseen by Harvard Anthropologist Frederic Putnam to advance the racist policy of the United States Bureau of Indian Affairs. In the Indian school building exhibit, school children pretended to take classes and perform school activities. They were not paid for their performances. Infamous Carlisle Institute leader Richard Pratt refused to bring his students to the exhibit because of its association with anthropologists, who he saw as opposing his assimilationist vision.

There were a number of cabins and taverns on Wolfe Point because this area was relatively dry compared to the lakeside buildings. These homes and businesses were owned by both Native and non-Native people, including Alexander Robinson, or Che-che-pin-quay. Robinson was born to an Odawa mother and Scottish father, so like Billy Caldwell, he excelled at navigating both Native and American worlds and was a key negotiator in the 1829, 1832, and 1833 treaties. He married Archange Oulimette’s sister Catherine Chevalier (Potawatomi) in 1826. Catherine was the daughter of Marianne (Potawatomi) and François Chevalier and the granddaughter of Potawatomi leader Naunongee, which meant she was connected to one of the most notable Indigenous and fur trade families in the western Great Lakes. Their home and trading post had frequent visits from Native people like Billy Caldwell until the 1833 Treaty of Chicago forced them out of the area. As part of the 1829 treaty, a plot of land was reserved for Robinson on the Des Plaines River where he moved in the 1830s and lived until 1872. It was the only Potawatomi “reservation” in the area in the post-removal period. His family remained connected to the land until the mid-1900s.

In 2019 Santiago X (or X) was commissioned by the Chicago Public Art Group and The American Indian Center of Chicago to pay homage to the original inhabitants of Illinois. X is an Indigenous futurist artist and a citizen of the Coushatta of Louisiana and CHarmoru from the island of Guam. Pokto Cinto is the Koasati (language of the Coushatta) translation of Serpent Twin. The effigy mound is made in collaboration with various artisans and community members such as Nilay Mistry (landscape artist) and honors the ancestral practice of mound building by using soil from various tribal lands. Located in Schiller Woods, Pokto Cinto marks the Des Plaines River on one end of Irving Park road and is bookended by a forthcoming Coiled Serpent mound in Horner Park. Pokto Cinto and Coiled Serpent Mound are the two ends of the forthcoming Northwest Portage Walking Museum which aims to show the connection between Indigenous cultures in Chicago and the land which surrounds it. Representations (and misrepresentations) of Native history and people are present across public art and architecture in Chicago. Other aspects of the built environment feature colonial narratives that marginalize Native people or erase them altogether. On this map, we have selected a examples of iconography to feature, but you can see a full map of many more sites across Chicago [here](https://felt.com/map/Iconography-Map-5qLDiEuoRFanMm87gPzO7C?loc=41.8713,-87.8547,10.79z&share=1).

The historic Green Mill Lounge located in Uptown Chicago has a legacy connected to its place in the city during Prohibition, its ties to Al Capone and his associates, and performances by stars of the Jazz Age. But this history also has ties to the Native community in the city. Its poetry slam nights attracted writers and performers from around the city, including Native writers and poets. E. Donald Two-Rivers (Ojibwe) became involved in these poetry nights as he became involved with institutions in the Native community and the poetry scene in Chicago. The Green Mill also held weekly poetry slams that were sponsored by the Red Path Theatre, founded in part by Two-Rivers in the 1990s. Two-Rivers also held a book release party at the Green Mill for his first book *A Dozen Cold Ones* in 1992, and remained connected to the establishment through his work with Red Path Theatre Company and the lounge's long-term ties to artists in Chicago.

Native peoples from around the United States came to work at the 1933 World's Fair. Many lived and worked in the American Indian Village where they worked as performers. Performers were paid as much as $1.75 per day with children also working for $0.40 per day. The "Winnebago Village" (Ho Chunk) included at least seventy-five Ho Chunk people from Wisconsin. Many had performed before and after at the Wisconsin Dells where performance of Native identity became an ongoing attraction. By 1933, performance of Native identity had become popular outside of the World's Fair in vaudeville and at tourist sites. Performers like Chief Eagle Feather (Cherokee) promoted themselves by creating a perception of authenticity in their work that was popular among audiences.

The [Center for Native American and Indigenous Research (CNAIR)](https://cnair.northwestern.edu/) at Northwestern University was founded in 2014 as a larger movement of initiatives within Northwestern University that has worked to strengthen the relationship between Northwestern and Native American communities. These initiatives include the John Evans Study Committee, the Native American Outreach and Inclusion Task Force, the Native American Leadership Council, and student participation in projects for the Chicago Native community.

The Chicago Theatre is a historic building, and its large marquee has become an icon of Chicago. However, the theater also sits on the site of one of the camps that Neshnabé (Potawatomi, Ojibwe, and Odawa) people created during the negotiations of the 1833 Treaty of Chicago. That year, Neshnabé representatives were called to Chicago to negotiate additional land cessions in the Midwest. They built massive encampments around Fort Dearborn and lived there the month before finally meeting with US Commissioners on September 21 for negotiations across the river from the fort. In the 18th and 19th centuries, land cessions from Indigenous nations were made through treaties (legal agreements) with the U.S. federal government. These treaties were often negotiated at established meeting places like Chicago and are not necessarily named for the land that is being ceded. Such is the case for the 1833 Treaty of Chicago which ceded land tracts in northern Illinois and southern Wisconsin and orchestrated the forced removal of Neshnabé people from 8 million acres of land in what are now the states of Illinois, Indiana, and Michigan. The treaty was signed on September 26, and it began another migration into the city. Knowing that Neshnabé leaders would soon be receiving their treaty payments, hundreds of American traders from the midwest descended on the city to collect on supposed debts they claimed from Native people. These creditors made up $175,000 of the annuities listed in the treaty, equivalent to about $6.5 million dollars in 2024. In the cash-poor economy of the Midwest, these payments were a massive influx of federal dollars into the region. Over the next decade, Neshnabé people were removed from the 8 million acres of land in Illinois, Indiana, and Michigan in a fragmented and abusive way over the course of nearly a dozen different removals. At least 5 of these removals began at or crossed through the Chicagoland area. *Proceed north, turning right on Lake Street for one block, then turning left onto Wabash and proceeding north one block. When you reach East Wacker, turn right, and make your way back to the southwest corner of DuSable bridge for the final stop on this walking tour (.4 miles).*

This mural, titled "Indians Cede the Land" is one of hundreds of WPA murals across Chicagoland, many of which depict Native people. WPA (The Works Progress Administration) murals were a part of the New Deal program under President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Murals like this allow passerby to quickly take in the story and narrative which they display. Typically showing the development of the U.S. from early interactions with Indigenous peoples, western expansion, and modern industry, these murals include Native people but strip them of all information which would make them significant to U.S. or Indigenous history. Rather than capture the complicated history of Indigenous-settler interactions and the transformation of Native land, this mural reduces it to an easily digestible story of progress. By commemorating Indigenous peoples as only located in the past or at a particular point wherein they encountered European settlers, the murals erase Indigenous peoples, or position conquest and removal as a necessary developmental step in the unfolding of U.S. history. Representations (and misrepresentations) of Native history and people are present across public art and architecture in Chicago. Other aspects of the built environment feature colonial narratives that marginalize Native people or erase them altogether. On this map, we have selected a examples of iconography to feature, but you can see a full map of many more sites across Chicago [here](https://felt.com/map/Iconography-Map-5qLDiEuoRFanMm87gPzO7C?loc=41.8713,-87.8547,10.79z&share=1).

Our final stop on this walking tour is the Defense, a sculpture representing the Battle of Fort Dearbon, which is an event that looms large in the collective memory of Chicago. Represented by one of the four stars on Chicago's flag, the Battle has been positioned as a "founding moment" in the city's history. However, before discussing the battle, it's important to understand the context of Fort Dearborn, a military outpost built in 1803. Though the fort no longer stands, plaques on the ground around you show the outline of where the fort once stood. When the fort was built, it existed within only six square miles of land that had been ceded in the 1795 Treaty of Greenville. In the decade after the fort was built, Neshnabé (Potawatomi, Ojibwe, and Odawa) people living in the area began to increasingly see it as a threat to their land and lifeways. These groups contested the Treaty of Greenville and argued that no representatives from Chicago were present at the treaty signing, and they grew increasingly frustrated with white settlers who had begun to farm the land and disrupt the environment that Native people had long maintained. These tensions erupted in the Battle of Fort Dearborn. The Battle itself did not take place at the Fort, but about a mile and a half south on the shores of Lake Michigan, on August 15, 1812. It ended in the death of more than fifty American soldiers, women, and children and fifteen Potawatomi fighters. The violence is often positioned as a random act of violence and has been used throughout history to cast Native people as savage, but in reality, it was one of several violent engagements during this time period in which Native people fought on both sides, and it was part of a much larger intertribal resistance movement coordinated by Shawnee leader Tecumseh against American invasion. In June of 1812, Tecumseh and his allies laid out a plan to attack several American forts later that summer: Fort Madison in present-day Iowa, Fort Wayne and Fort Harrison in present-day Indiana, and Fort Dearborn at Chicago. The attacks would be coordinated through wampum belts, small beads made from shells that were strung together to record histories and communicate messages. However, as Tecumseh and his allies made plans, war broke out between the Americans and the British, and Captain Nathan Heald was ordered to evacuate Fort Dearborn. Tecumseh and his allies learned of this planned evacuation, and decided that this was the right time to execute their attack on the fort. The night before the battle, a wampum belt was delivered to Potawatomi leader Mad Sturgeon signaling war should begin. On the morning of the evacuation from the fort, Potawatomi fighters, along with Kickapoo, Sauk, and Ho-Chunk allies, attacked the convoy of American soldiers, civilians, and their Myaamia allies who were leaving the fort. In the centuries following the Battle of Fort Dearborn, the story of this event has been told and retold in various ways, but the most common narratives dehumanize Native people and stoke resentment against them. The term “massacre” comes from one of the earliest published histories of Chicago, Wau-Bun, by Juliette Kinzie in 1856. This myth took on further life during the World’s Columbian Exhibition of 1893, when fair commissioners sought to tell a story that cast the city of Chicago as resilient in the face of disaster. The city was just twenty years removed from the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, and the myth of the “Fort Dearborn Massacre'' provided useful inspiration. Today, representations like those in "The Defense" continue to cement a story of Indigenous violence within the myth of the city’s founding.

The [Tunica-Biloxi Chicago Branch Office](https://www.facebook.com/TBTCHICAGO/) is a satellite office for the Tunica- Biloxi Nation of Louisiana. In Chicago, it serves as a gathering place for both Tunica-Biloxi tribal members, as well as the broader Native community in Chicago. The office hosts both educational and cultural gatherings about a variety of subjects, including beading, language, and cooking. Members of the Tunica-Biloxi Nation have been living in Chicago for more than 100 years, even though their an ancestral lands, reservation, and governmental operations are located in Marksville, Louisiana. Tribal members in Chicago began trying to establish a satellite office in Chicago in the 1990s, but it was not until 2019 that the branch office was officially opened.

The home of Archange (Potawatomi) and Antoine Ouilmette was one of many French and Native households in early Chicago. French and American men frequently married Native women as a way of integrating themselves into existing kinship networks, and Native women expanded the connections of their own kin through these marriages. Archange was the daughter of Marianne (Potawatomi) and François Chevalier and the granddaughter of Potawatomi leader Naunongee, which meant she was connected to one of the most notable Indigenous and fur trade families in the western Great Lakes. Though we don’t know very much about the Ouilmette home other than that it neighbored the Kinzie house, we can make educated assumptions about Archange based on what we know about other relationships between French men and Native women. Archange likely served as a translator for her husband Antoine, instructed him on Native protocols, and was his way of integrating into existing Indigenous kinship networks. Many believe Archange was instrumental in helping settlers navigate the constantly fluctuating portage between the Chicago and Des Plaines River. Though the business of leading people through the portage was in her husband’s name, she would have carried that knowledge of the land from generations of Potawatomi people who lived around and used the portage before her. We also know that Archange helped several of the wives of officers at Fort Dearborn through pregnancies and deliveries, and that she personally helped survivors of the Battle of Fort Dearborn to survive in her house by disguising them as Native women. She and her husband worked directly with Indian Agent Alexander Wolcott to acquire support for the Treaty of Chicago in 1833. In the 1829 Treaty of Prairie du Chien, she and her children were given a plot of land on the Northern border of the city that includes parts of the present-day cities Evanston and Wilmette. The Village of Wilmette is named after her family.

In the centuries following the Battle of Fort Dearborn, the story of this event has been told and retold in various ways, but the most common narratives dehumanize Native people and stoke resentment against them. The term “massacre” comes from one of the earliest published histories of Chicago, Wau-Bun, by Juliette Kinzie in 1856. Kinzie lived in Chicago in the 1830s at the Kinzie mansion which gave credibility to her account of the early days of the American occupation there. Native historians and other scholars disputed her story, but the misnomer stuck. The myth of a “massacre” took on further life during the World’s Columbian Exhibition of 1893, when fair commissioners sought to tell a story that cast the city of Chicago as resilient in the face of disaster. The city was just twenty years removed from the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, and the myth of the “Fort Dearborn Massacre'' provided useful inspiration. The fair’s celebration of the battle as connected to colonialism made the event a fitting place to dedicate The Fort Dearborn Massacre, a monument that once stood in this park, but was removed from public view in 1998. Still, other public commemorations of the battle remain. In 1939, the fourth and final star on the Chicago flag was added symbolizing the “Fort Dearborn Massacre.” These representations and other commemorations of the battle within the built environment of the city cement a story of Indigenous violence within the myth of the city’s founding. Today, historians rely on a bevy of evidence to reconstruct the events of the Battle of Fort Dearborn. Few narratives hold more weight than that of Simon Pokagon’s whose father witnessed the aftermath of the battle. Pokagon’s story gathers multiple accounts from Native people, something Juliette Kinzie’s book failed to do. In his story, the Battle of Fort Dearborn was the result of a conflict between complex political entities who were in open war. And he compares the battle directly to massacres of American Indians committed by US soldiers where there were no survivors. Representations (and misrepresentations) of Native history and people are present across public art and architecture in Chicago. Other aspects of the built environment feature colonial narratives that marginalize Native people or erase them altogether. On this map, we have selected a examples of iconography to feature, but you can see a full map of many more sites across Chicago [here](https://felt.com/map/Iconography-Map-5qLDiEuoRFanMm87gPzO7C?loc=41.8713,-87.8547,10.79z&share=1).

Founded in the 1970s, the [Native American Support Program (NASP)](https://nasp.uic.edu/) at the University of Illinois Chicago supports the success of Native American, Alaska Native, Native Hawaiian, and Native Pacific Islander students academically and culturally. This support comes from the program’s origin and administrators from within the Chicago Native community who have had first-hand experience with the issues Native students face while attending college.