CEDAR CITY — Of all of the Indian tribes native to Utah, the Paiutes may seem the most "mysterious."
With 781 members, the tribe lacks the presence of the Navajos and Utes. And its homeland in southern Utah is far away from the major media and population centers of the state.
But part of the tribe's "hazy" image also comes from the low-key, understated nature of tribal members themselves.
"Not only are the Paiutes not known around the state," said Gayle Rollo, Cedar City, a tribal administrator for the past 14 years, "they aren't well-known around here, either."
The main reason, of course, is that for many years the Paiutes simply did not exist — at least on paper. The tribe was officially disbanded. And for many in the public, all that remained for decades were a few fading impressions.
Today, many citizens of southern Utah still associate the tribe with the infamous Mountain Meadows Massacre, for instance, though tribal historians have tried to debunk that notion. And some locals do recall media reports about the tribe being re-established in the 1980s with the help of Sen. Orrin Hatch, R-Utah.
But after that, most people draw a blank.
Lora Tom, the tribal chairwoman, spends a good deal of her time trying to fill in that blank.
"We're not as big as other tribes, but we have a strong sense of pride and unity, and we have some very bright individuals," she said. "We also have many challenges: education, economic development and substance abuse, among them."
When people ask just what the Paiutes contribute to society, Rollo bristles and quickly points out that the tribe is responsible for $250,000 in scholarships and millions of dollars in contracted health care.
In fact, health care is a top priority issue for the Paiutes. And having Tom as Paiute chairwoman has proven to be an advantage in that regard. She doubles as a community health representative.
Her biggest worry these days? Not alcoholism or accidents — though those are worrisome. No, what concerns Tom is the same thing that concerns dozens of tribes today: diabetes. Adult diabetes, or Type 2 diabetes, is the inability of the body to utilize or produce the insulin hormone that allows blood sugars to be burned for energy. It can lead to weight loss, blindness, leg problems and other maladies. And it is triggered by both hereditary and environmental conditions.
According to the American Diabetes Association, 12.2 percent of American Indians older than 19 suffer from the disease, compared with just 4 percent of the general population.
"Many native people don't realize they can lose their vision or limbs with the disease," Tom said. "Sometimes I'm tempted to use scare tactics just to make them aware."
Anthony Smith, the health director for the Indian Walk-in Center in Salt Lake City, says if diabetes doesn't seem to frighten many of his people, it certainly frightens him.
"In the past 10 years there has been a rapid increase in diabetes," he said. "On the Pima Reservation, the problem affects 90 percent of the tribe."
Smith points to several culprits.
"The main risk factor is the way Indians are made up genetically," he said. "After that, it has to do with changes in the way we live, our diet and lifestyle. We used to work hard as hunters and gatherers. And we were used to natural foods. We didn't eat a lot of carbohydrates and sugars. Fifty years ago there weren't any signs of diabetes among Native Americans. Now adult diabetes even affects our children."
Needless to say, diabetes often leads to other woes. It's a contributing factor in obesity and by extension cardiovascular disease and post-traumatic stress syndrome.
Tom also points to hypertension, or high blood pressure, as a major health issue among Paiutes, along with the disease that has haunted American Indians for 200 years — substance abuse. The problem, Smith says, is that alcoholism opened the door for meth, marijuana and amphetamines among inner-city Indians and even the abuse of over-the-counter products such as hairspray and mouthwash in rural communities.
Tom is quick to drive home the point, however, that due to the way the reservation system is set up, it's easier for health officials to track and record such statistics there. And though she says the Paiutes do seem to have more problems with addictions than the community at large, their tendency to be non-compliant and self-medicating likely is no more pronounced on the reservations than in mainstream America.
As for Smith, he believes that health — like so many issues among American Indians — must eventually be laid at the doorstep of economics.
"Some tribes have more resources and are able to help their people better," he said. "Other tribes have little money and can't help. So, the statistics depend on which tribe you're looking at. The economic status of a tribe can determine many of its health concerns."
The ultimate solution, Smith believes, is information, and not only information for tribal members but the education of mainstream America about Indians themselves. And the relatively unknown Paiutes could use an introduction.
The Paiute story begins, as do most native stories, with the land.
And it is a story of how the West was lost, partially won back, lost again, then finally secured.
Today, the Paiutes are divided into five separate bands covering a five-county area. The tribal lands form an odd configuration. The reason is the original block of tribal land was sold when the tribe was disbanded. So, the Kanosh Band (115 members) is in Millard County; the Koosharem Band (108) is in Sevier; the Indian Peak Band (38) and Cedar Band (241) inhabit Iron County, and the Shivwits Band (279) lives in Washington County. The tribe also holds mineral rights in Beaver County.
And if it seems unusual to see an Indian tribe scattered like a handful of jacks, well, the Paiutes have an unusual history.
In 1954, the tribe was "terminated" by the U.S. government in an effort to force tribal members into being assimilated by the general population. It was a social experiment that had the best of intentions but produced the worst possible results. The Paiute tribe became a people without an identity. They didn't become part of white culture. They became a wandering race.
"Many Paiutes continued to work as unskilled laborers," Gary Tom and Ronald Holt write in "A History of Utah's American Indians," but "the traditional knowledge base had deteriorated to the point less than half of the Paiutes spoke native Paiute, very few were tanning deerskin, and very little storytelling or weaving of baskets and cradles was taking place. Social gatherings were very infrequent. Alcoholism began to affect more and more of the Paiutes."
The tribe was finally recognized again April 3, 1980, with the help of many Indian leaders, along with Hatch.
Today, the date April 3 holds a special place in the Paiute culture. Tribal elections are held on that day, and a Restoration Gathering is celebrated each year.
The tribe lost a great deal of its land when it was disenfranchised, but parcels were returned.
"The majority of the land was rocky they were given back," Rollo said. "They lost 8,000 acres. To compensate, a trust fund was set up for the tribe. The Paiutes today are allowed access to interest from that fund."
The tribe has used the interest in a variety of ways, including building new tribal headquarters in Cedar City and sponsoring tribal cultural programs, such as the current "cradleboard" project directed by Travis Parashonts, representative of the Cedar Band of Paiutes.
Cradleboards are the traditional means for Paiute women to carry their young — strapped to their backs — and the project has yielded some fascinating examples of the art.
Parashonts is sure similar efforts will follow and will bring the Paiutes back into public awareness and help the people discover their identity again.
"We are a young tribe," he said. And, indeed, statistics show that the average Paiute age is 25. Parashonts also feels that the tribe's future is in the arts. "Our biggest challenge," he said, "is funding projects to revitalize our crafts."
"I believe the future looks good for us," Tom said. "We have a dedicated tribal council. I just keep reminding the youth that anything is possible."
And in the Paiute tribe of today, "youth" is definitely a big resource.
Coming Thursday; White Mesa Utes and education
E-mail: jerjohn@desnews.com