Theresa took a moment to get a look at him. He looked like he was nineteen, clean shaven (he probably had no choice in the matter). His black hair was parted in the middle and hung around the tops of his ears. His eyes were lighter than his hair, more hazel than brown. His jaw was narrow, but he had a pleasant smile.

            Once his belongings were packed Mark turned to her. “Do you want to get coffee?”

            Theresa considered for a moment, and then nodded. She had orange juice the first time and coffee would help her get through the day.  Mark led the way to the door, while Theresa followed. He paused to hold the door for her. As she passed she caught his eye and smiled. It was something Jerome had never done.

            Once they were outside, Mark walked alongside her as much as the narrow walkway allowed. The couple making out had disappeared and the plaza was empty save the exiting students.

            “So where are you from?” Mark asked as they walked.

            “San Diego,” Theresa replied, “you?”

            Mark nodded. “Same. Just looking to get out of town for college?”

            Theresa paused. She had come to college because Jerome was here…somehow she didn’t feel like telling that to mark. “Yeah. Wanted some space from my parents, you know?”

            “I understand that,” Mark said with a chuckle.

            Theresa bit her tongue and tried to hide her suspicion. Why could he understand that so easily? He wasn’t running from his parents was he? She refused to be with any boy who couldn’t live with his parents. Then she hesitated, maybe his parents were awful. She couldn’t blame him from running then, could she? Theresa decided to give Mark a few more minutes to clear himself, after all she hardly knew him.

            They emerged from the plaza and started towards the main square of campus. It was close to eleven, the psychology class only being fifty minutes. The crowd from earlier was long since gone. Only a faint smattering of students were scattered about, seeking to study in fresh air.

            The landscaping department of the college had laid grass in every free space on campus. As soon as the walkway ended, grass and oak trees began. The students paid no attention to the walkways, taking the shortest distance between classes. As a result, worn footpaths spider-webbed across every lawn.

            The campus coffee shop was next to the library, and Mark once again held the door and allowed Theresa to enter. Theresa’s thoughts on Mark’s home life were interrupted by the gesture and she realized Mark hadn’t said a word since talking about his family. The silence irritated her. If he wasn’t going to talk or ask questions, why did he invite her to coffee? She made up her mind to get her drink and leave as quickly as possible when Mark broke the silence. “Are you a psychology major?”

            Theresa shook her head. “I don’t know what I want to be yet. I wanted to try something new.”

            Mark nodded, but said nothing.

            What was he thinking? She knew men liked women who were smart. Did he think she wasn’t smart because of what she’d said?

            “I get that,” Mark continued, “I didn’t choose for the first two years. I took a few psychology classes and got hooked.”

            He turned to the cashier, “Grande hazelnut latte.” He turned back to Theresa, “what do you want?”
            This was something new entirely. He’d invited her to coffee, but paying for it? Theresa wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It made this seem like a coffee date. Nevertheless, she found herself ordering. “Grande Caramel Macchiato.” She thought she saw Mark raise an eyebrow and resisted the urge to hit him.

            All at once the memory of Jerome in astronomy class came back. Why was it easy to kick strangers who were jerks and not people you knew? About a minute later, the cashier returned with their drinks. “Where should we sit?” Mark asked.

            “It’s nice outside.” Theresa said. She turned to look out the window and there he was. Still wearing his athletic gear and surrounded by his track buddies, Jerome was glancing in the coffee shop when he saw her and Mark. At first he raised an eyebrow and smiled, then turned back to his conversation.

            “Maybe the library,” she said.

            Mark took out his phone and started. “I’m sorry I’ve got to go. I forgot I’m tutoring today.” He set his backpack on the counter, ignoring the protest of the barista and pulled out a scrap of paper. With a quick motion he jotted the number down and handed it to her. “Sorry to run like this,” he said, “rain check on the conversation to go with this coffee?”

            Theresa nodded.

            “Then call me.” He opened the door, Jerome and his buddies to a step back; Mark didn’t notice them. “See you soon.”
            He left the coffee shop heading back towards the psychology building. Theresa glanced at Jerome who raised an eyebrow and smirked, before turning back to his friends.

            Theresa walked on the brick walkway, trying not to notice the junior couple necking underneath the gazebo. Once she was a safe distance past them she stopped to admire the garden. The landscaping department spared no expense filling the plaza with every kind of rose from Jacob’s Coats to American Beauties. With so many kinds of flowers in one place, the plaza seemed to explode in fireworks of color.

            Theresa’s phone vibrated. She pulled it out of her purse; Rachelle was trying to call. Theresa thought about answering, but when she noticed the time on her phone she thought better. Stuffing the phone back into her purse she walked along the edge of the plaza until she reached room 115. She pulled the door open and walked in.

            Even after pulling her sunglasses off, it took Theresa’s eyes a few moments to adjust. Unlike the science building, the room was intimate with tasteful brown walls and dark red trim. There were no more than ten students in the class, and a young woman at the far side of the room who appeared to be the professor. Theresa might have thought she was a student, but the woman held a stack of syllabi which she started to pass around. When the professor saw Theresa she smiled. “Welcome.”

            Theresa returned the smile. “Hi.” Six tables were arranged into one mega-table in the center of the room and Theresa took the nearest available seat, setting her purse underneath her chair. As the syllabus made its way around, Theresa spent a few seconds looking it over. The door opened a few more times as students made their way in. Theresa was too engrossed to notice until someone sat down beside her. Theresa started in surprise; the boy from the coffee shop was sitting next to her reading a syllabus of his own.

            Theresa’s eyes snapped back to her reading. Should she say something? She glanced at the boy beside her without looking away from the paper. She’d already talked to him once. She did want to talk to him again, but what would he think of that? Would he think she was easy? With Jerome’s behavior, that was not something Theresa was ready to allow. She focused on her reading, until she noticed the boy was staring at her.

            “Excuse me,” he said.

            Theresa set the syllabus down, trying desperately to appear aloof. “Yes?”

            As soon as she met his gaze, his face lit up. “I thought it was you,” he said, “you’re the girl from the coffee shop.”
            Theresa nodded, but said nothing.

            The boy extended his hand, “I’m Mark.”
            After a moment’s hesitation, Theresa took his hand. “Theresa.”

            The professor was writing on the board and students around the class started pulling out their notebooks and opening laptops.

            “I know class is about to start,” Mark said, “but I wanted to say thank you for what you said before.”
            For the first time in the conversation Theresa smiled. “You’re welcome.” Then turned to face the front of the class.

            A group of freshmen were huddled in front of her, chattering busily among themselves. Theresa could picture the same conversation she’d had a hundred times as a freshman “what’s your name?”, “where are you from?”, and “what’s your major?” After those three questions, most of these students would never talk again.

            There were three people working behind the register, so the line moved fairly quickly. Theresa glanced up at the counter. Next to the register was a glass case keeping the organic gelato cool. Theresa looked from the gelato up to the menu. She had refused the chocolate muffins already today, keeping away from gelato wouldn’t be a problem.

            A group of three guys opened the door behind her and walked in behind her. Theresa listened halfheartedly to their conversation. The other two were trying to convince their friend to dump his girlfriend. Listening to their reasons, Theresa thought she’d have dumped the girl herself. Apparently, she had made rounds with the rest of the track team over Christmas break.

            The poor boy whose girlfriend she was insisted no such thing had happened, but it was clear he only half-believed what he was saying. Theresa turned to face out the glass wall to her right. It allowed her to get a good look at the guy talking. He seemed so sweet; he was a little taller than she was, maybe six feet, with brown eyes, and an easy smile.

            Theresa turned back as the line moved again and she came to the cash register. A shabby looking barista with long frizzy hair and a nose ring gave her a bored stare. “What do you want?”

            Theresa paused. She had been so distracted by the boys behind her she hadn’t thought of what to order. In a panic she glanced around and saw the boy barista squeezing fresh orange juice. Theresa turned back to the barista and nodded towards the machine. “Fresh squeezed orange juice.” She handed her student id card, which the cashier swiped lazily in the register. “You’ve got two hundred thirty seven forty five left on your card.”

            Theresa took back the card and placed in her purse, then stepped back to let the boys behind her order. She pretended to watch the barista prepare her drink as she saw them argue about what to buy. Watching the boy whose girlfriend had cheated on him struck a nerve. She thought of Jerome.
            A few seconds later a clear plastic cup of orange juice was handed to her over the bar. Theresa reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, she had class in just a few moments. Turning to look at the group of boys she hesitated, and then walked briskly up to them.

            “I just want you to know,” she said, “if that girl didn’t care enough about you to not cheat, you deserve better.”

            He looked at her in surprise, but didn’t say anything. His friends looked at each other as if ready to trade high-fives. Theresa ignored them and walked out of the coffee shop, sipping her orange juice. As she felt the sun in the walkways of the campus she smiled. There was something oddly comforting that she wasn’t the only one to have trouble with her other.

            Inside the auditorium hundreds of silent faces turned to stare. Theresa felt the blood rushing to her face. Putting on a brave expression she started down the middle of the aisle. It was an older wing of the college, but not so much that it was quaint. Fluorescent lights bleared down on cracked drywall. The carpet was that especially thin carpet that seems to be reserved for classrooms, the kind that hold staples and may as well be concrete; it was a drab olive-blue. Adding accents was beige and white tile, and made the classroom almost as hideous as the professor.

            He stood slightly less than six feet, at least he would have if his shoulders weren’t rounded. He wore faded blue jeans and a blue plaid shirt. His brown leather belt was the only thing holding his pants up, as Theresa noticed the jeans were unbuttoned.

            Theresa wondered if he’d been playing with static electricity, at least his hair seemed to indicate this. The worst was his eyes, he stared at Theresa with grey eyes and didn’t move until she took her seat.

            A quick glance revealed that there were no cute boys in the classroom, so Theresa opted to sit by herself. It was the usual smattering of nerds, overweight, pimply, wheezy, and unable to stop staring at her legs. She made sure to sit behind them.

            When she was seated the professor turned back to the whiteboard. There was a series of red concentric rings which Theresa assumed was the solar system, or the galaxy, or something round and concentric.

            Any attempt to listen to the lecture was drowned out by her stomach growling. Why hadn’t she taken the chocolate muffin? She could still smell it, she could almost taste it. The teacher was looking her direction, Theresa became very still. After a moment’s pause he continued his lecture and Theresa allowed herself a sigh of relief. Just then the door in the back of the room opened.

            Theresa spun around, this time she was one of the hundred faces. There was a pause and then he walked into the classroom. It was the first time she had seen Jerome since Christmas break, but there he was. He swaggered into the classroom hands in the pockets of his white college hoodie. The hood covered his shaved head and he smiled as he saw her. Theresa’s face flushed, how dare he smile at her. Didn’t he know she was trying to forget him?

            A small backpack was slung across Jerome’s broad shoulders. He made his way down the aisle, stopping when he saw Theresa. Theresa held her breath as he walked towards her, lowered the adjacent seat and plopped down.

            Now the embarrassment of being late to class paled to Theresa’s current embarrassment. Jerome didn’t look at her, but he was sitting less than a foot away. Theresa tried desperately to pay attention to the lecture, anything to keep from noticing Jerome. Just as she felt ready to push him from her mind she heard him snap his gum.

            She must have been visibly upset, because Jerome looked over and leered at her, then snapped his gum again and turned back to the lecture. The magic was broken, Theresa realized, how could she have ever fallen for this jerk.

            Sitting next to him was maddening, how could he do this to her. Then the hit came, Jerome reached up stretched his arms out and placed his arm on Theresa’s shoulder. That was too much; Theresa furiously rose to her feet. The professor became silent and once again everyone in the class turned to stare. Theresa moved over three seats and sat down again. Jerome chuckled.

            The Professor cast a stern eye their direction and continued his lecture. After what seemed like an eternity, he distributed the syllabus and all the students got to their feet. Theresa tried to move into the aisle, but Jerome moved into her way.

            Jerome opened his mouth to speak but Theresa had already climbed over the back of the aisle into the next row. When Jerome tried to speak again, she climbed over the next row and made her way unimpeded to the aisle. He might share the classroom with her, but she didn’t have to talk to him and next time she’d be ready.

                She hurried to her dresser and opened the drawers to pick her outfit. She finally settled on dark blue underwear, if her bra and underwear were matched anything was possible. She pulled an olive denim skirt from the bottom drawer and took a black halter top from the top.

                Her selection made, Theresa walked to the bathroom and removed her plaid pink pajama pants and grey shirt. It took a minute or two to adjust the shower temperature. While she waited for the water to adjust, Theresa piled her hair underneath a baby blue shower cap.

                Theresa took her time in the shower enjoying the hot water, until she heard Rachelle banging on the bathroom door. Theresa quickly turned the water off and took a towel from the rack. Rachelle had class even earlier than she did. Theresa wrapped the towel around her body and unlocked the door.

                “Sorry,” she mumbled as she brushed past. Rachelle rolled her eyes and moved into the vacant bathroom.

                Once back in her room Theresa’s eyes flitted to her dresser. It was an old-fashioned thing, with white paint now turning yellow. Across the top were the jeans. Theresa ran her hands along the dark fabric; it was like smelling a cupcake without being able to eat it. She quickly stepped back, resisting the urge to try them on. She didn’t need any reminder they wouldn’t fit.

                Theresa donned her carefully chosen outfit and then looked to the mirror to apply makeup. That zit on her chin had finally started to fade. Theresa applied a light base, before carefully putting mascara on her eyelashes. Rachelle never had to put on mascara; her lashes were long enough without it. After mascara, Theresa brushed a light coat of green eye shadow. It would be hard for anyone to see unless they were looking, but it made her dark eyes even more vibrant.

                After that, Theresa dabbed a small amount of blush on her cheeks, then sat on her bed to put on her black leather heel sandals. There would be no wearing flats today, boys beware!

                Her morning ceremony completed, Theresa grabbed her small black purse and walked out into the kitchen. She walked into the kitchen towards the pantry, only to see a carton of chocolate muffins waiting on the counter.

                Theresa’s eyes flitted to the hallway and then to the pantry. This was Rachelle’s doing, she could eat whatever she wanted. Theresa resisted the urge to get any closer to the muffins. Chocolate was her favorite, how could Rachelle do this to her?

                Of course, what would be the harm of eating one? Theresa felt herself inching towards the carton and then stepped back. She couldn’t, she knew it. The jeans were still sitting on her dresser, where they would stay if she kept eating chocolate muffins.

                Surely it wouldn’t hurt just to smell them, would it? Theresa inched back towards the muffins. As she leaned close she felt the heat rising from them, they were freshly baked. Theresa shut her eyes and drank in the smell. Against her will Theresa started to reach for them when she heard the bathroom door shut. The spell was broken; Theresa stood up straight and stepped back.

                “I bought muffins,” Rachelle announced. “You can have one if you want.”

                But the moment was over, Theresa’s willpower had prevailed. She walked past the muffins to the pantry, opened it, and pulled out a granola bar. Things were going to be different, the jeans were waiting and so was a new semester of school.

                “Thanks, but that’s ok.” She called back. With a smile she brushed past the muffins and out of the apartment.

In this, however, is a warning. Does it strike anyone as strange that our incessant worrying seems easy and appears to mimic the world? Should not the phrase “for the pagans run after these things,” give us pause. What is the Lord’s next statement? “And your heavenly father knows you need them all.”

Where the ascetics got things wrong is they assumed man had no need of food or clothing. The problem isn’t that they’re unnecessary, the problem is our brains are too small to worry about everything.

This is not an attack on diligence or wisdom, but a rehabilitation of contentment. Jesus said to focus first on the kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you. Our call is to be content in everything except our relationship with God. In our relationship with God we must constantly seek to be more and more like him.

When Jesus gives a command it is for our benefit, and this is no exception. It is not a call to wear a celise and self-flagellate while wearing burlap. It is an acknowledgement that we are too frail to worry about everything, and it was Christ’s intent to unburden us from the world’s way of thinking.

Seek God, make wise decisions, and bear with cheerful endurance your hardships. This exemplifies what soon to be renowned philosopher C. McLaughlin calls the “freedom of constraint.” Accept this gift from Christ, you are free from sin, be free from worry. Trust God, fear him, and live in peace.

God Bless

                Why hadn’t she bought them earlier? Had the mocha with Rachelle been that important? Worse, some cheerleader probably had them, now she would have to see those jeans on that witch Michelle.

                The store was empty save the one attendant, who seemed to have sneaked into the back to play minesweeper. The fluorescent lights made all the priceless fashion finds seem dingy and pale. Theresa tore through canvas coats and designer slacks, the jeans were nowhere to be seen.

                As she drifted helplessly from rack to rack Theresa let out a sigh of resignation.  She slid her fingers along a row of silk blouses and then dropped them to her side. Without a word to the attendant (who switched from minesweeper to 3d pinball) she walked towards the exit when she saw them.

                Nestled behind the cash register were the jeans. Theresa had to look twice and then sneak behind the desk to make sure. Sure enough, here were the jeans, acid washed dark jeans with the same sultry cut she had wanted. They would be slimming, but would grab attention, just what she needed now that Jerome was gone.

                She rang the bell, desperately trying to get the attention of the cashier, there was still the fear that the jeans would vanish. At first the rings were patient, but as the seconds ticked by the frequency of rings increased. She had been waiting almost a whole minute, didn’t the cashier realize there were jeans on the line, but not just jeans. The future of Theresa’s school semester hung in the balance. These were the jeans that were going to motivate her to go to the gym. The jeans that were going to help her replace Jerome.

                Finally he emerged from the back room. For someone who worked in a trendy thrift store, he must not have been an avid customer. He wore those outdated Castro hats over a grey long-sleeve and ripped jeans, didn’t he realize that hipsters were everywhere now?

                The cashier said nothing, and appeared not to notice his customer’s impatience. Instead, he took Theresa’s money, mumbled something about a receipt, and meandered his way back to his minesweeper game.

                Theresa didn’t mind, she was so excited about her jeans she didn’t even think about change or the receipt. These were the jeans that were going to change everything, the jeans that were going to change her life forever.

                The Pre-Reservation stage was Tribal society as it existed before European encroachment. The tribes were self-governed and most had intricate systems of law and order. They were self-policing and the basis for all decision making was culture and tradition.

                In the BIA era the tribes had their sovereignty stripped and all governance was replaced with BIA officials. There was widespread parentalism (a term coined by Prof. Jamie Ratner) and oversight. Courts were created to punish traditional practices (dancing, bride-price, ceremonies and festivals, etc.).

                Finally the BIA began shifting power back to the tribes and the Court of Indian Offenses were replaced with tribal courts. Today the tribes assert self-governance where they can and try to piece together the shambles of their sovereignty. Some have been successful some have not.

                Below is the information on the three phases in table format. The table is the brainchild of Prof. Ray Austin and I take no credit for its creation:

                The First column is things as they were, the second is the changes implemented, and the third is the result of the BIA policy. 

Disclaimer 1: This article does have an editorial slant, despite my attempt to be unbiased. I fully recognize that the table above may be subject to disputes of interpretation.

Disclaimer 2: Law Summaries are created by a non-barred individual, they are not meant to replace legal guidance or advice.

                Chairman Macdonald continues to demand respect and, if inclined to study, a legal historian will find news articles replete with his struggle for tribal sovereignty. The scholar will also find numerous references to the Chairman’s legal troubles.

                Around 1978 Chairman Macdonald found himself in trouble for appropriating tribal funds for personal use. The Chairman decided to hire the most expensive defense attorney of the day . The tab for the attorney’s services came to around 70k. Never one to give up, the Chairman had the tribal council vote to give him the money.

                This resolution was challenged in the tribal courts, where the judges decided the resolution was improper. It was the tribes’ money, they said, he couldn’t use it for personal purposes. MacDonald then consulted legal professors who suggested the creation of a superior court to tribal court, with judges appointed by MacDonald. The Chairman quickly carried out their advice and appointed his allies as judges on his new Navajo Supreme Judicial Council. The new court overturned the decision; MacDonald got his money, and was acquitted.

                My Professor, Ray Austin, cites this story as a warning about the mixing of the branches of tribal government. The Navajo still govern themselves without a constitution, so there was no protection from MacDonald’s actions. However, the Navajo continue to use culture and tradition (particularly the practices of Dine’) as a prototypical constitution or guideline for practice.

                In the end, people and chairmen come and go and make mistakes, but the proper drafting of statutes and a firm foundation can a be a protection when things go wrong. As a follow up to the Chairman’s story, he ended up being acquitted of the initial crime (70k buys a darn good lawyer), but was later arrested along with his allies and convicted in Federal Court. This was not before the council tried to expel MacDonald who then urged his supporters to riot. The army got called in, mobs with 2x4s and nails…it became a mess. The history is too much to relate in a short post, but the principle of a strong foundation in culture & tradition or in a constitution (if culture and tradition are unavailable) are essential to the protection of tribal governments against humanity’s weakness.

Law Summaries are created by a Non-Barred Individual. These summaries are not meant to replace legal guidance or counsel.

            There are five methods of cultural inclusion:

• 100% Custom as the Law
• Culture as a Canon of Construction (Interpreting the Constitution)
• Custom and Constitution Combined into a new law.
• Non-Tribal Law Only.
• Non-Tribal Law Supported by Custom.

One example of non-tribal law was the case of Frias v. Appellant (A Hopi Case). In Frias a tribal council filed ethics charges against its chairman. The council voted for conviction and the chairman was now trying to appeal the decision. The decision was that trial level was the appropriate venue. The appellate court did not have original jurisdiction. The foundation for the decision was the tribal constitution.

Despite the vast trove of cultural options, the Hopi in this case relied entirely on their constitution for the decision. Next post, we’ll turn to the Navajo Courts and describe how the Navajos used cultural tradition as the basis for a decision in Halona v. MacDonald.

Law Summaries are Prepared by a non-barred individual. They are not meant to replace legal guidance or advice.