My son, all of six years old, bubbled with excitement one evening as I tucked him into bed. He announced he was cast in his school play.
“Peter Pan,” he declared.
A chill shot through me. Peter Pan? A play seeped in problematic portrayals, and my son was in it without my prior knowledge? My immediate concern leaped to the stereotypical and racist depictions of native peoples within the narrative. Dread pooling in my stomach, I cautiously asked him what role he would be playing, my mind racing with images of offensive costumes.
“A merman,” he beamed, “And I get to wear a really cool costume!”
A merman, I could manage. But my unease about the play itself remained. As a Native American, specifically Alaskan Native, Haida, Raven moiety, and Brown Bear Clan, the cultural misrepresentations in Peter Pan are deeply troubling.
My son is growing up embracing his heritage, yet he’s also becoming acutely aware of the persistent racism and misrepresentation that shadows our daily lives. He’s starting to grasp the concept of stereotypes and how these harmful generalizations clash with his understanding and lived experience of Native people.
My worries extended beyond my son’s role. I was concerned about all the children involved. They are sponges, absorbing the biases that surround them. It’s crucial for adults to recognize that silence in the face of such portrayals only allows these biases to take root and flourish. This play, with its antiquated script, risks reinforcing harmful stereotypes already pervasive in our broader culture.
Native Americans have long been subjected to damaging stereotypes. We are reduced to caricatures, marginalized in media, and misrepresented in countless ways, from children’s books to popular culture. Growing up in America means constant exposure to stereotypical images, toys, and stereotypes.
These stereotypes are ubiquitous, and they contribute to the erasure of Native cultures, reducing us to flattened, inaccurate tropes. Consider the sheer volume of imagery associating Native people with sports teams, vehicle brands, and cigarette products. What’s glaringly absent is genuine respect for and understanding of our vibrant and complex traditions.
Driven by these concerns, I reached out to the school via email, posing direct questions about the play’s content. I inquired whether props like tomahawks and feather headdresses were planned. I also asked if the children would be encouraged to use stereotypical Hollywood “war cries.” The response confirmed my fears: yes to all.
I requested to review the script. Upon reading the line where the “Indians” deferentially address Peter Pan as “Great White Father,” I was appalled. Did we truly want to perpetuate the idea to a new generation that Native people are subservient to white figures?
While canceling the production wasn’t feasible at that stage, I knew I had to advocate for change and raise awareness.
The school administration was responsive to my concerns. They agreed to incorporate a preface to the play, explaining that the story originated a century ago from the pen of J.M. Barrie, an author who had never set foot in America. They emphasized the fictional nature of the narrative and its characters.
Crucially, the offensive “Great White Father” line was altered to “Great White Feather.” The headdresses and tomahawks were removed from the production. The children cast as “Indians” were dressed in simple, unadorned brown tunics, each bearing the school logo on the back – an attempt to create a sense of school “tribe” rather than a specific cultural representation.
My son, adorned in his merman costume, took to the stage. We had numerous conversations leading up to the performance about the problems with stereotypes and the importance of respectful representation. The play proceeded, and the families in attendance seemed to enjoy it. While I still hope the school reconsiders using this particular script in the future, perhaps directing them towards more culturally sensitive resources is a constructive next step.
Bliss teaches at Sierra College and lives in California.
