The Comanche tribe seeks greater representation in the classroom

While Los Comanches de la Serna strive to preserve Comanche traditions, the history of the tribe has long been neglected in the classroom, a dearth in local education that Francisco “El Comanche” Gonzales believes should be remedied.

Gonzales, 81, recounts what he calls the people’s “forgotten history.”

Before the Spanish arrived in North America, the Comanche were nomadic, moving around on dog sleds, he said. It wasn’t until the Spanish brought horses with them that the Comanche migrated west into New Mexico, Colorado and Utah. Riding on horseback allowed them to hunt more efficiently, as well as raid other tribes, capturing their people and selling them.

However, many of these captives — known as criado, or “servant” — intermingled with the Comanche tribe, producing generations of “mixed blood” individuals who became known as genízaro. The meaning of the word “criado” changed from “captive” to “adopted” as these individuals became more immersed in the Comanche families, who, by then, were given Spanish names. Eventually, many Comanche were forced onto reservations.

These genízaro exist today, but their history, Gonzales said, is not given proper treatment in classrooms.

“That’s part of the problem with our schools,” Gonzales said. “You’re talking about kids being lost and don’t have a direction because they don’t have roots. The first time I ever went to Washington, D.C., I saw our nation’s capital; these big awesome buildings, the obelisk, the National Cemetery — you see all these beautiful things. And I said to myself, ‘But yet, New Mexico is older than all these things put together!’”

Comanche Mary Weahkee, 62, archaeologist for the New Mexico Department of Cultural Affairs, compares the knowledge of tribal history among Comanche youth to that of youth raised in a pueblo. At some point in her career, she brought 40 Comanche and

Picuris Pueblo youths together to share stories from their tribes. The Picuris told the Comanche youth about the historic relationship between their two tribes; the Comanche were unable to do the same.

“Nobody spoke of it anymore, because most of the Spaniards that knew the history of the Comanche have passed on,” Weahkee said. “And the stories didn’t get handed on, [so] they’re getting bits and pieces. That’s how most history gets lost. There are some folk songs that were written in the 1700s about Comanches. Now, you don’t even see those unless you are an archivist and you go searching.”

Weahkee added that pueblos still practice oral history and storytelling, noting that when their history is lost, “it takes away from the Comanche themselves.” However, according to Gonzales, “it’s not only Comanche history; it’s the true history of the New Mexico community” that is being lost.

Gonzales hopes the next generation will be in touch with their roots and strives to accomplish just that.

“The education and understanding of land grants — what’s the history of these lands, and why is it that they no longer are in the hands of the community?” Gonzales asked. “What has happened, what has transpired? These are the things that are lacking in our educational system: to bring the kids to have an affinity or closeness to their own communities.”

Gonzales believes that a large problem is how tribal youth view their history, adding that many young Comanches are unwilling to learn their native tongue due to the fact that English is the dominant language in the area. He calls it a “sort of self-denial in the genízaro initial existence.” Regardless, Gonzales has hope for the future of the Comanche tribe.

“I think it’s an uphill battle, but I do [have hope],” Gonzales said. “I take it positively. I don’t look at it negatively. I can look at all the negativism that has happened in the past, but I can see ourselves as rectifying that. That’s the way I look at it, and that’s what I see myself doing, is rectifying some of the things that I didn’t like about the past.”

To Weahkee, hope comes from the readiness of people to be educated, especially as more and more people become aware of the history that, according to Gonzales, begins long before 1776. Weahkee added that there were once 117 Comanche “clans,” a stark contrast to the seven remaining.

“There’s more openness and more people interested in the truth,” Weahkee said. “Not so much the truth, but the true history of those sites or those locations, and, you know, they’re actually willing to learn more about how far back things go and get a broader sense of even a small location like Ranchos. If you were to really dig in there, Blueberry Hill’s just right across the road and understand that that was a huge pueblo before it became the Ranchos site.”

“One of the most important lessons you can learn from digging into the earth is that the earth is a timeline,” Weahkee said. “It doesn’t change.”