For most Americans the answer to the first question has always been as obvious as the reflection in a mirror. Thirty years ago, when a Harvard anthropologist was asked to decide whether a distinct group of North Carolinians was Indian, he took along calipers and a steel tape. The answer, he decided, would lie in physical traits, in his painstaking measurement of cheekbones, lips, earlobes and noses. For many non-Indians, that superficial assessment persists despite centuries of assimilation, centuries of living alongside America's native peoples.
Stereotypes die hard.
It's a matter of speech patterns, of things you can see and hear. For many natives, the question runs much deeper, and it is hardly simple. In Montana, the answer varies from tribe to tribe, and is fraught with implications. It means entitlements, such as eligibility for health care and housing, a chance to compete for tribal money for higher education, or small cash outlays at the end of the year. But more important, it has come to mean greater likelihood of early death, and a higher rate of illness and disease.