[9.0/10] The Real All Americans is a fascinating story about America’s government-run “Indian schools”, and about the early days of college football. Sally Jenkins finds the interesting places where the two intersect, where the Carlisle Indians became one of the original disruptors of college football, and the sport became a way for Carlisle and its faculty to try to show the country that their project was working.
It is a great book! The subject matter is enthralling, from the earliest days of Carlisle’s founder, Richard Henry Pratt, and his dealings with, respect for, and sympathy for local tribes; to the development of the school which would develop a mixed-at-best legacy; to the early days of college football itself and its rise in popularity at the school; to the arrival of none other than Pop Warner to coach the squad, and the eventual shuttering of both the team and the school.
The way The Real All Americans uses these events to comment on the history of the Indians’ mistreatment in America, the political snarls of the day, the debates about the shape of sport, and the shift from the “frontier” days of the United States to a nation closer in form to what we know today, make it a treat for anyone interested in indigenous history, football in America, and especially both.
Jenkins does well with the material, using figures like Pratt as a spine to tell these stories, while managing to provide broader context and acknowledge larger societal forces, rather than letting this devolve into a “Great Man” history. Her prose is engaging and poetic, even if she does use the occasional obscure and/or five dollar word. (I had to look up “cadged” among others.) One of her deftest choices is to liberally use quotes from original sources of the time, giving unvarnished views from people who were there in their own words. It’s a cliche to say, but hearing those words directly makes the history come alive.
My only complaint is that at some point the book runs out of steam. There’s a strong sense of build from Pratt’s early beginnings to the founding of the school, to its compromised early existence, to its steady successes, to Pratt himself being squeezed out. Likewise, the story of how the Carlisle football team began and, through determination and guile, was steadily able to put a thumb to the eye of the gridiron bluebloods is exciting. But in the last third or so, there’s not the same sense of structure or momentum, just a series of interesting enough but largely disconnected events as the book plays things out to the end.
Even so, it’s easy to be compelled by the figures Jenkins puts at the center of her story: Early figures like American Horse who had mixed feelings about the school, but wanted to give their children and grandchildren a leg-up as best they could, team stars like Bemus Pierce and Delos Lone Wolf who carved a path for the school in the public eye, characters like Pop Warner and Jim Thorpe who spice up an interesting historical survey, and sharp football players and sharper thinkers like Albert Exendine and Gus Welch who have important roles to play. The rush of names can be overwhelming at times, but there’s a handful that are easy to latch onto.
But the most fascinating of them all is Pratt, since he is such a man of contradictions, and the school he founds reflects that. In many ways, he is dramatically progressive for his day, not only sincerely caring about Indian welfare, but believing that we are all “born blank” and that Indians were no less capable than the Europeans who colonized their land. He has a sense of equality and care that is rare. On the other hand, his solution was to try to make them white, by stripping them of their culture, their heritage, even their names, and assimilate them into the society and culture Pratt knew and thought superior.
The tension of those two goals comes through in Carlisle, in the way that Pratt and his faculty seemed to genuinely care about his pupils and believe in their potential, while also patronizing and at times infantilizing them, while attempting to raze their cultural inheritance. Hearing the mixed feelings the Indian students had before, during, and after their time at Carlisle, and Pratt’s own changing views on the school and its place in the American experiment, are one of the best parts of the book.
The best thing I can say about The Real All Americans is that I came to it to learn a little more about the school’s unique football team, and yet at the end of the day, I would have been just as engrossed, and just as pleased with it, if it had never touched on Carlisle’s gridiron escapades.
But those escapades are no less fascinating! On the one hand, it’s interesting to see the development of the sport as we know it today (more or less). The transition from a ground and pound game to an aerial attack, the amusing logic that anything the rulebook doesn’t explicitly prohibit must be fair game, and the synod of football minds working to actively shape the game in its early days, are all engaging topics for the devoted football fan.
On the other, it’s striking, and humbling, to realize how many problems college football coaches, players, and commentators argue over today were just as prevalent in the early days of the game. There are cheating scandals that rock the sporting world! There are pained, vociferous debates over the safety of the game and the danger to its players! Most notably, there is a tremendous tug of war on the issue of amateurism versus paying players, with questions of whether the men who generate the interest and put their bodies on the line ought to get a cut of the proceeds that match the contours of disputes today. The sense that, despite a century of time passing, we’re still having the same basic arguments, is both awing and dispiriting.
So is the sense of football as a means of image management. The catch phrase these days is that your football team is the “front door” of your university. Carlisle meant for football to be the front door for an entire people. The sense in which the Carlisle squad meant for the gridiron to be a proving ground, to show the world they could stand with the champions of Harvard and Yale, and even beat them at their own game, adds a cultural dimension to the sport. The fact that they typically lacked the size of their opponents, but made up for it with nimbleness and cleverness, frames the Carlisle Indians as a true underdog story. And the fact that in those days especially, football was a dirty, gritty game, that the Carlisle squad had to play with total class and thick skin, lest they be considered succumbing to common stereotypes, adds another layer to their journey.
Overall, The Real All Americans is a tremendous work, one that illuminates a fascinating if demoralizing period in this country’s treatment of indigenous people, and uses football as a window into the cultural exchange, idealistic aspirations, and harsh realities that the Indians of Carlisle, and far beyond, dealt with as the game, and the nation, came of age.