Top Quotes: “Fighter in Velvet Gloves: Alaska Civil Rights Hero Elizabeth Peratrovich” — Annie Boochever

“Today, the majority of the largest Alaska companies are owned by Alaska Natives, and members of Alaska’s 229 federally recognized tribes manage a statewide system of tribal health organizations, the largest in the United States. An extensive network of Native-run cultural institutions preserves and celebrates Alaska’s eight distinct Indigenous cultures. Dozens of policy and educational organizations help protect and advance Alaska Native people’s right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

None of those things existed in 1911 when Elizabeth Wanamaker Peratrovich was born. Her generation of Alaska Native leaders planted the seeds of a civil rights revolution with their personal courage and commitment. This book celebrates all their efforts by telling the story of a woman who exemplified courage and commitment throughout her life.”

“It was only the second time in the history of America that a bill to end discrimination had come up for an official vote, and the federal Civil Rights Act of 1964 was still two decades away.”

“When she was old enough to go to school, Elizabeth was surprised to find there were no Alaska Native teachers and speaking Tlingit was not allowed. Sometimes white teachers even made students kneel on rocks and struck them across their hands with a ruler for speaking their Native language. Another punishment was to make a student write on the chalkboard one hundred times that he or she would speak only English.

As Elizabeth grew older, she was troubled to see that Alaska Native people and other minorities were separated in many ways from white people. Schools, hospitals, movie theaters, and even cemeteries had different places for people who were Alaska Native and people who weren’t, and the nicest places were only for the white people. The reason for these inequities was racism, and young Elizabeth wasn’t the only person bothered by it.

In 1912, just a year after Elizabeth was born, a group of Native people from around Southeast Alaska met in Sitka to form the Alaska Native Brotherhood, or AB, and two years later, the Alaska Native Sisterhood, or ANS. Andrew Wanamaker was a charter member of the AB and an honorary founder of what is now known as the oldest Indigenous civil rights organization in the world. Both the ANB and ANS worked to advance Native rights throughout Southeast Alaska and to support improvements in educational opportunities, employment, social services, health services, and housing for all Alaska Native people.”

“In those days educational opportunities in small villages like Klawock were limited, if they existed at all. Alaska Native students who wanted to continue their educations were forced to leave home to attend boarding schools. Sometimes children as young as five years old were taken from their parents and sent to those faraway schools. The disruption caused a deep sense of loss for families and communities.”

“They noticed several homes with “For Rent” signs. The homes were only a block from the Fifth Street School, and they appeared to be well maintained. It was a perfect neighborhood to raise their children. Roy Sr, called the phone number written on one sign and was told to come by the next day to complete the necessary paperwork so they could move in.

But when the couple got there, the owner said, “You’re an Indian, aren’t you?”

Roy answered, “Yes, I am.’

“Your wife too?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’d like to help you, but other people who live around here don’t want me to rent to Indians.””

“When they had finally secured housing in Juneau, Elizabeth and Roy Sr. discovered their children were not allowed to go to the school that was only a block away. Just like the stores with “No Natives” signs, Juneau had separate schools for white children. Alaska Native and other minority children were forced to attend Willoughby Avenue School, a government school in the “Indian Village.”

The Native school had more students and fewer teachers, and Elizabeth believed it would not offer her children the kind of education she wanted for them. She also wanted her children to attend the same school as the other children in their neighborhood. Perhaps most important, she didn’t think it was right to force any child into a separate school just because the child wasn’t white.

Elizabeth went to the school district office and asked to see the superintendent, Mr. A. B. Phillips. No one knows exactly what happened at that meeting. Roy Jr. says his mother explained that the government school was too far away for her children to walk to.”

“Elizabeth may also have mentioned that Alaska Native people were required to pay school taxes even though they were excluded from the public schools. Whatever she said, not long after the meeting, Mr. Phillips agreed that the Peratrovich children could attend the school of their choice, and Roy Jr. was the first Alaska Native child to attend the white people’s school in Juneau.

Not everyone liked the decision. A headline in the Daily Alaska Empire read, “Board Chairman to Resign Rather Than be Party to a Board That Admits Indian Children to Public Schools.” The article went on to say, “By admitting Indian children, it will lower the standards.” Fortunately, with Elizabeth’s help, the members of the board of education overruled the chairman. By 1947 Juneau schools were fully integrated. Several years later, one of the Native students, Judy Brown, graduated at the top of her class.”

“The period between 1941 and 1945 marked the United States’ involvement in World War Il and a time of great disrespect for Alaska’s Native people. One of the worst injustices was the forced relocation of nearly nine thousand men, women, children, and Elders from their homeland in the Aleutian Islands to crude, overcrowded camps in old canneries and other dilapidated facilities in Southeast Alaska. The U.S. Army thought that destroying the Aleut villages would make it harder for the Japanese to invade that part of Alaska.

At the same time, the Alaska Territorial Guard, defender of Alaska’s shores during the war, was composed almost entirely of Alaska Native volunteers. Elizabeth had a friend whose Native grandmother spoke only Tlingit but who nevertheless volunteered at the United Service Organizations, or USO, which arranged entertainment shows and care packages for soldiers. All the grandmothers’ sons were serving overseas. Elizabeth herself wrote many letters to raise funds to support the American Red Cross in its nursing of wounded American soldiers.

But even though Alaska Native men and women were actively supporting the war effort, if a Native woman were seen in public with an American soldier, she was often taunted and humiliated. The army even issued an order that prohibited soldiers from “associating with” Alaska Native women. That meant a Native soldier could be punished for speaking in public to his own mother or sister.”

“This kind of discrimination was widespread and continued well after the war was over. Elizabeth later heard about Alberta Schenck, a seventeen-year-old high school student in Nome whose father was a white army veteran of World War I and whose mother was an Alaska Native woman of Iñupiat descent. In early 1944 Alberta was fired from her position as an usher at Nome’s Dream Theater for speaking out about the theater’s segregated seating.

In response, she wrote an essay about the seating policy that appeared in the Nome Nugget. A short time later, while on a date with a white army sergeant, Alberta sat in the whites only section of the theater. She was arrested and spent a night in jail.

Finally, Alaska Native soldiers were dying on the battlefield for America, but their family members could be prevented from voting. Even though they were U.S. citizens, Alaska Native people sometimes had to pass special voting tests, including a literacy test. The tests were in English, but many of the Elders were much more comfortable with their traditional languages. Because the Elders in Southeast Alaska grew up under Russian rule, many spoke not only their Native language but Russian as well. Nevertheless, under the law at that time, they were considered illiterate and ineligible to vote.”

“One of their most important allies turned out to be the territorial governor, Ernest Gruening.

Emest Gruening was appointed as Territorial governor of Alaska by President Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1939. Gruening did not like prejudice and discrimination. He had seen plenty of injustice as a boy growing up in New York City, and although he had found personal success as a doctor, journalist, and politician, he was Jewish and had felt the sting of prejudice firsthand. Elizabeth and Roy Sr. sent a letter to the new governor urging him to have the hateful signs removed and asking for his help battling other discriminatory practices.”

“Governor Gruening was sympathetic to their cause. Although he was unsuccessful in removing the signs, he worked closely with Anthony Dimond (Alaska’s territorial representative in Congress) and others, including Elizabeth and Roy Sr., to draft an anti-discrimination bill and present it to the Alaska Territorial Legislature in 1943. At that time, however, the legislature was dominated by white men who represented business interests outside Alaska. The equality of Alaska Natives was not a priority for them, and although the bill passed in the House, it suffered a bitter defeat in the Senate. In those days the legislature met only every other year, so it would be 1945 before the bill could be reconsidered.

It was clear to Elizabeth that to pass an anti-discrimination bill, support was needed from all over Alaska, not just Juneau. She set up a meeting with Governor Gruening to come up with a plan.”

“All summer whenever Shell Simmons had an empty seat in his plane, he invited Elizabeth to join him. She worked her magic in every town in the Southeast. She even donned mukluks and a fur parka to travel, first by plane and then by dog team, to some villages way up north. Decades later, when Elizabeth’s grandson Mike went hunting near Deering in the Northwest Arctic Borough, he found the people there still remembered his grandmother’s visit.

In her quiet, no-nonsense way, Elizabeth would explain why the anti-discrimination bill would help Alaska Native people, why it was so important for them to vote, and why they should consider running for office. Elizabeth’s message was met with great enthusiasm. One added result was that many more villages started their own ANB and ANS camps.

Meanwhile, Governor Gruening worked his own kind of magic. He helped Congressman Dimond convince Congress to amend the Alaska Organic Act, which increased the size of the territorial legislature. That, coupled with a reapportionment bill to change the way voting districts were laid out, resulted in an opportunity for fairer representation. The influence of outside special interests that had dominated the legislature in previous years was diminished, and new legislative seats became available for Alaska Native candidates to fill.”

“Senate approval was less certain. Senator Cochran and Senator Norman Ray “Doc” Walker spoke in favor of passage, but the senate was a smaller body with no Alaska Native members and some fierce opponents of the bill. Intense arguing and bickering erupted. A senator from Juneau, Allen Shattuck, exclaimed, “Far from being brought closer together, which will result from this bill, the races should be kept further apart. Who are these people, barely out of savagery, who want to associate with us whites with five thousand years of recorded civilization behind us?”

Elizabeth’s knitting needles froze. She drew a slow, deliberate breath before beginning to knit again.

Senator Frank Whaley, a bush pilot and gold miner from Fairbanks, called the bill “a lawyer’s dream and a natural in creating hard feelings between whites and Natives.” He went on to say, “I don’t want to sit next to an Eskimo in a theater, because they smell.”

The words grew even nastier.

Senator Grenold Collins said, “It is the mixed breed who is not accepted by either race who causes the trouble.””

“At the end of debate on a bill, it was the custom in the legislature for the Senate president to ask if anyone else wanted to speak. When Senator Edward D. Coffey stood and made that invitation, few in the crowd expected anyone to respond, certainly not the Alaska Native woman with the knitting in her lap. But in the end, Elizabeth was the only one who stepped forward.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. She felt she was ready, but would her words have any effect? She looked at Lori and thought about what kind of life her daughter would have with those ugly signs plastered around town. She thought of the birth mother she never knew, and of her dear adoptive mother, and prickled at the racism they surely must have suffered. She thought of her adoptive father, Andrew, and about how kind he was and how powerful his sermons had been. Words were the tools that had served her all her life, and she and Roy Sr. had spent hours thinking about just the right ones for this occasion. Now was the time.

Elizabeth Peratrovich stood and was acknowledged by the senator. Thirty-three years old and classically styled in white velvet gloves, matching hat, and an olive-green dress, Elizabeth walked slowly down the aisle with her head held high. As she turned to face the assembled legislators, the audience strained forward, pulled by her calm but powerful presence.

If anyone in the room thought the young woman before them would mince her words, they quickly realized their mistake.

“I would not have expected,” she began, “that I who am barely out of savagery would have to remind gentlemen with thousand years of recorded civilization behind them of our Bill of Rights.” Elizabeth continued in a voice that grew steadier and even more intent. “When my husband and I came to Juneau and sought a home in a nice neighborhood where our children could play happily with our neighbors’ children, we found such a house and had arranged to lease it. When the owners learned that we were Indians, they said no. Would we be compelled to live in the slums?”

Her voice grew louder and clearer. “There are three kinds of persons who practice discrimination against Indians and Native people. First, the politician who wants to maintain an inferior minority group so he can always promise them something. Second, the Mr. and Mrs. Jones who aren’t quite sure of their social position and who are nice to you on one occasion and can’t see you on others, depending on who they are with. Third, the great superman who believes in the superiority of the white race.

Senator Shattuck rose and challenged her, “Will the proposed bill eliminate discrimination?”

Elizabeth answered confidently, “Do your laws against larceny and murder prevent those crimes? No law will eliminate crimes, but at least you as legislators can assert to the world that you recognize the evil of the present situation and speak your intent to help us overcome discrimination.”

A long silence seemed to swallow the air in the room. Then a wave of clapping swept through the crowd; even some who had opposed the bill joined in. Cheers rang throughout the gallery and the Senate floor.

Elizabeth made her way back to her seat. She put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders as she sat down. She was the last speaker of the day.

When the vote was taken, eleven senators favored the bill, and five voted against it. The legislature of the territory of Alaska passed House Bill 14, Chapter 2, the Anti-Discrimination Act, providing for “full and equal accommodations, facilities, and privileges to all citizens in places of public accommodations within the jurisdiction of the Territory of Alaska” and specifying penalties for violation.

On February 16, 1945, Governor Ernest Gruening signed the nation’s first anti-discrimination bill into law. Not until twenty years later did Title VII of the United States Civil Rights Act make it illegal to discriminate on the basis of race or ethnicity throughout the nation.

Elizabeth looked back on that memorable day in her last letter to Roy Jr. when she wrote: “I’ll never forget the moment the governor signed the bill, then turned to me, and presented me with the pen with which the bill was signed. The Governor said, ‘This is the most important piece of legislation passed in Alaska and will help the most in its development. It never would have passed without your speech.”

The fighter in velvet gloves had punched more powerfully than any boxer. Yet her only weapon had been her carefully chosen words delivered with elegance and integrity.

The night the bill passed, Elizabeth and Roy Sr. went to the Baranof Hotel, the swankiest establishment in Juneau and one that was previously off-limits to Alaska Native people. Elizabeth wore a stylish taffeta gown, turquoise blue with ruffles at the bodice, and Roy a dashing suit and tie. As the handsome couple approached the dance floor, the others in the room stepped back.”

“Passage of the anti-discrimination act meant the terrible signs came down, and Alaska Natives gradually moved into neighborhoods where they previously had not been allowed. Schools were integrated and eventually so were clubs like the Rotary and the Elks.

But discrimination did not simply disappear then, nor is it completely gone now. Unfortunately it took years along with well-publicized court cases and fines before some Alaskans realized the law would be enforced. Elizabeth was well aware of these continuing challenges when, in October 1945, she wrote a letter to the National Council of American Indians. She described her fundamental belief that the greatest barrier to equality is ignorance:

We realize its passage will not eliminate Racial Discrimination, but we are satisfied that by the passing of this Bill, our white friends are recognizing that there are discriminations, and they are now interested in correcting this awful injustice. This is a step in the right direction, and we will continue in our endeavors to obtain, for our people, rights enjoyed by all.

And so Elizabeth and Roy kept up their work. Elizabeth confronted the local newspaper, the Daily Alaska Empire. She asked the editor why he continued to publish the names of young Natives who were suspected of crimes on the front page but buried the names of white suspects in the back of the paper. The editor listened, and soon all juvenile crime reports were handled the same way regardless of race.

Elizabeth went on to help revise the Alaska juvenile code, the laws that apply to children under eighteen. There were many issues that demanded attention. What kind of legal processes are young people entitled to? What kind of punishments are allowed? And what should be done with juvenile criminal records so convicted young people wouldn’t be hounded by them for the rest of their lives? Flizabeth was determined to make the Alaska juvenile code non-dischminatory. She tackled it section by section until the inequality was abolished.

Elizabeth also worked with the ANS to promote public-health hospital services for Alaska Native people suffering from tuberculosis. She was elected to the national executive council of the National Congress of American Indians and worked to change its constitution so membership would extend to Alaska Native people who were previously ineligible to join.”

“A few times some people tried to discriminate against us but that is almost impossible to do when the object of such action feels no inferiority.”

“A year after the letter to Roy Jr., Elizabeth was admitted to the Christian Science Care Facility in Seattle with breast cancer. Just as she had prepared herself to fight for equality for Alaska Natives, Elizabeth steeled herself for a different battle, but one she would not win.

Roy Jr., who had recently married and graduated from the University of Washington with a degree in civil engineering, was working in Seattle. He visited his mother every day and witnessed her increasing frailty. Though she grew terribly thin and suffered greatly, Elizabeth asked Roy Jr. not to tell his father how sick she was. Roy Sr. was in Juneau working and watching over Lori, who was about to graduate from high school. Elizabeth didn’t want her husband to worry, and she wanted him to remember her not as a patient, but as the strong partner she had always been.

In June of 1958, Elizabeth held Roy Jr.’s first child — her first grandchild-in her arms. She died six months later on December 1, at the age of forty-seven. Roy Sr. outlived her by thirty-one years and died in 1989. Their spirits, however, live on, inhabiting the most important individual right in Alaska or anywhere: the right to equal treatment under the law, no more, no less.”