I want to start by acknowledging that I have known of Ramona Bennett’s activism for as long as I can remember. As a fellow member of the Puyallup Tribe, I grew up aware of her presence as a resilient leader within our community. She knew my great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother, and her life was deeply intertwined with theirs and with those of other members of the tribal community. Although I was not alive for most of her years of activism and was relatively young during the latter part of it, I deeply respect what she has done for our tribal community. Her reputation for fearlessness was a living example of what it means to challenge authority for the sake of one’s people. Reading her memoir, I see not only a record of a life lived in resistance but also the echo of stories I have heard since childhood, and it is with these stories that carry the weight of our shared memory as Puyallup people.

The history of Indigenous communities fighting for their sovereignty in the United States is often oversimplified to court rulings and political headlines. However, the deeper story lies in the lives of those who risked everything to keep their communities intact. Ramona Bennett Bill’s Fighting for the Puyallup Tribe: A Memoir serves as a testimony and a call to action, rooted in the political and social upheavals of the mid-twentieth century, while emphasizing that sovereignty is not granted but fought for through relentless organizing, courageous direct action, and significant personal sacrifice on behalf of Bennett and others. Refusing to separate her own story from her people’s, she combines autobiography with political and cultural memory into a narrative that presents sovereignty as a pathway for the betterment of her tribal community, and in many instances, to merely survive.

To grasp the importance of Bennett’s memoir, it’s essential to place it within the larger context of federal Indian policy in the twentieth century. Her early life was shaped by the federal termination era, a period when tribal governments across the country faced unprecedented threats to their sovereignty. Along with the pressures from urban relocation policies, which pushed Native Americans to leave their traditional lands and largely move to cities, these efforts aimed to dissolve Indigenous nations and assimilate them into mainstream American society. Yet, during this era of cultural suppression, a new generation of Indigenous activists rose to fight for justice, recognition, and treaty rights. The Pacific Northwest became one of the key battlegrounds in this struggle, with tribal fishers and leaders defending rights secured under the Medicine Creek Treaty of 1854. The historic Boldt Decision of 1974, which reaffirmed tribal fishing rights and changed the region’s legal landscape, didn’t happen in isolation. It was the result of decades of grassroots resistance led by figures like Billy Frank Jr., and as Bennett’s memoir clearly illustrates, by the determination of women like herself who led this fight.

The opening of Fighting for the Puyallup Tribe: A Memoir establishes a firm grounding for the rest of the book by starting not with protest or political conflict, but with a depiction of Indigenous ways of life in the Pacific Northwest. Bennett recalls the land, waters, and salmon, grounding her story in the cultural practices and values that supported our people. This framing is important because it shows that sovereignty is a lived experience rooted in land and community. It helps readers understand that later struggles, such as the Fishing Wars, the Boldt Decision, and the fight for recognition, were about protecting identity and survival, not just abstract legal battles. At the same time, Bennett places her early life in this context, sharing childhood acts of resistance against authority and her formative ties to labor reform and unions, where solidarity was part of everyday life. These experiences not only hint at her activism but also connect her Indigenous resistance to broader twentieth-century social movements, including labor struggles, civil rights, and feminism. This positions her story into a wider fight against powerful systems. In this way, the memoir’s opening astutely lays the cultural and moral groundwork for her years of activism.

It is also in this section that the crucial role she and others working closely with her played in securing recognition for the Puyallup Tribe is painstakingly detailed, especially since the Tribe’s very existence was at stake. Recognition served as the lifeline that allowed the Tribe to reassert sovereignty, access essential resources, and shape its political and cultural future with more independence. Bennett describes the immense challenges of those years, when recognition was far from guaranteed and the path forward was uncertain, including legal measures that could have rendered the tribal community “nonexistent” due to a lack of registered membership. She shares how she and other leaders persisted despite numerous obstacles and setbacks from state and federal bureaucracies that might have preferred they disappear in order to gain the Tribe’s land and resources. She emphasizes that recognition was ultimately achieved not through government benevolence or grace, but through the relentless persistence and resilience of a tribal community and their allies, who refused to fade away or be forgotten.

One of the most distinctive features of Bennett’s memoir is her use of humor. Even when recounting tense confrontations with police, political leaders, racism, or hostile authorities, she injects moments of wit and levity. This technique does more than entertain, and it humanizes the story and affirms the inherent dignity of Indigenous people in the face of dehumanizing circumstances. Humor has long been a hallmark of Native literature, serving as a way of cultural survival. Vine Deloria Jr.’s Custer Died for Your Sins used humor as a sharp-edged tool against colonial arrogance. In contrast, contemporary writers like Louise Erdrich and Sherman Alexie have used humor to expose the contradictions of modern Indigenous life. Bennett’s memoir fits into this tradition, but her humor feels different. It is less a literary performance and more the genuine expression of an activist who understands that laughter can sustain a community even in the darkest times.

As the book progresses from her early childhood into the 1960s and 1970s, Bennett immerses readers in the heart of the Red Power movement. She discusses her involvement in the Trail of Broken Treaties, the occupation of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, the Alcatraz takeover, and the fierce conflicts of the Fishing Wars. What sets her account apart is its immediacy. She doesn’t provide a detached summary like a historian. She offers the visceral perspective of someone present and actively involved, not just visiting for the sake of being there. She was someone who felt the tear gas and cold nights, argued with leaders in tense rooms, and stood shoulder to shoulder with those who were arrested alongside her. Her portrayals of interactions with Billy Frank Jr., Leonard Peltier, Hank Adams, and Russell Means, among others, show not only the public faces of the movement but also the private dynamics of disagreement and solidarity that enabled collective action. For scholars of Indigenous history, these sections offer invaluable firsthand testimony. For general readers, they bring history to life and offer close insight into how events truly unfolded.

A recurring and powerful theme throughout Bennett’s memoir is her deep dedication to caring for the community and restoring a sense of belonging among tribal members, especially those who had been removed from the tribal community through adoption and boarding school efforts. Her activism is fundamentally about strengthening the social fabric that unites the Puyallup people. She often recalls small moments when the fight for sovereignty was intertwined with everyday efforts, such as supporting families, protecting vulnerable community members, and ensuring no one was left out of the decision-making process about the Tribe’s future. Whether challenging government agencies or mobilizing grassroots efforts, Bennett consistently shows that political activism and community care are closely linked, highlighting her commitment to holistic, community-centered activism. Bennett does a great job of providing examples throughout the book of how to foster an ethic of responsibility that aligns with broader Indigenous kinship traditions, where leadership is judged not by authority over others but by the ability to care for one’s relatives and community. Bennett’s emphasis on “bringing people back” echoes the cultural principle that survival is collective, not individual.

Another striking aspect of Bennett’s memoir is her extraordinary memory for the individuals she encountered during decades of activism. She recalls not only nationally recognized leaders but also local figures, allies, and adversaries, naming them precisely and placing them alongside her within the unfolding episodes of resistance and activism. This abundance of detail gives the book a remarkable sense of authenticity. However, this strength may also pose challenges for some readers, as the density of names, places, and events can sometimes feel overwhelming, especially for those unfamiliar with Pacific Northwest tribal history or the complexities of the Red Power era. The sheer number of references may slow the narrative and require careful rereading or additional supportive reading material to contextualize each element. Still, this potential difficulty is inherent to the memoir’s dedication to accuracy and remembrance. Bennett emphasizes honoring the individuals who stood beside her, even if doing so risks testing the reader’s ability to keep all the names in mind. The memoir functions as a communal archive, inviting us to follow her story but also to acknowledge the broader community of activists who shaped it.

The second half of the memoir shifts focus inward, exploring the internal battles to establish the Puyallup Tribe as the politically and culturally structured community it is today. Bennett’s approach in this section shows that sovereignty is not claimed from outside authorities but is built within tribal communities. She describes the hard work of building institutions, uniting members, and securing resources, especially seeking government funding, to establish and operationalize the Puyallup Tribe, including a fantastic section on the takeover of the Cascadia building. One can envision that this part of the book is significant for younger Puyallup Tribal members, many of whom might now take for granted the existence of tribal government, enterprises, and services. Bennett reminds us that these institutions were not always there; she and others fought for, negotiated, and sometimes defended them at significant personal risk, highlighting how individual memory and community survival are closely linked. She goes into great detail about the steps she took with others in the Puyallup Tribe community to take initiative in completing the work, not just talking about change but leading that change.

What makes Fighting for the Puyallup Tribe: A Memoir such a compelling work is its unwavering refusal to sanitize or sugarcoat history. Bennett does not romanticize activism or hide its conflicts or personal costs. Instead, she provides a vividly personal and honest portrait of struggle that is both brave and painfully human, capturing the raw realities faced by those fighting for their rights. For the Puyallup Tribal community, Bennett’s memoir will be seen as a powerful family record, a heartfelt tribute to the strength, resilience, and identity of their people, capturing the struggles and victories that have shaped their history. By skillfully blending humor, personal stories, and detailed history, Bennett ensures her story is not only engaging but also lasting and meaningful, inspiring future generations to understand and value the rich and complex history of the Puyallup Tribe and other tribal communities like it. In doing so, her memoir transcends its personal narrative, becoming a rallying call to all of us to participate in the enduring struggle for justice and sovereignty.

Miguel Douglas

Miguel Douglas is the executive director of American Indian Republic and is an enrolled member of the Puyallup Tribe of Indians. He has written extensively on Indian gaming and its effects on American Indian communities. He has received a Master’s Degree in Interdisciplinary Studies from the University of Washington.