BIRMINGHAM, Alabama — Brendan Bomberry’s voice rose, his words spilling out at a rapid rate as he teased his teammates with obscenities.
The Haudenosaunee Nationals men’s lacrosse team, a roster representing the six nations of the Haudenosaunee Confederation — Cayuga, Mohawk, Oneida, Onondaga, Seneca and Tuscarora — prepared for a competitively meaningless game at the World Olympic Games earlier this month pre-style event after being knocked out of the medal fight.
Bomberry, 27, was there to remind players that every game and every minute spent in a Haudenosaunee uniform meant a lot to them.
“Sport may not be political, but for our people it is,” he said, peppering his words with expletives and punches. “Let’s show some heart on this stage. That means something for the people back home.”
His message was clear: Haudenosaunee (formerly known as the Iroquois) representation now includes a number of larger, intertwined goals that go beyond winning lacrosse games.
They fight first and foremost for official recognition in global sport – an effort symbolic of the broader efforts of indigenous nations to assert their nation and sovereignty in the geopolitical arena. Her goal in this area is inclusion by the International Olympic Committee with a goal of competing at the 2028 Games in Los Angeles, where the sport could return to the medal program after more than a century.
“One thing I realized is that lacrosse makes us relevant in terms of our place in the world,” Bomberry said in an interview.
The Haudenosaunee (hoe-dee-no-SHOW-nee) are also fighting for the spirit of the game. Lacrosse is one of the fastest-growing sports in the world, but for the last few decades its dominant image in popular culture has felt like a caricature of suburban white privilege — in Bomberry’s words, “a fraternity personality.”
As some of the historical originators of lacrosse, as people who consider it a sacred “medicine game,” the Haudenosaunee wants to reclaim her heart.
“Representation here is important,” said Cody Jamieson, 35, a member of the men’s team, describing the pride of seeing the Haudenosaunee flag at the World Games in Birmingham, Alabama. “We are sovereign. That we are here at the World Games and being accepted is all the IOC needs to know.”
The Haudenosaunee men’s team—founded in 1983 and until recently known as the Iroquois Nationals—was officially recognized by the international lacrosse board in 1988, while the women’s team was recognized in 2008. Today, the two teams are the only indigenous teams to compete in any sport at the international level.
Despite operating with a fraction of the talent pool of other top teams like the United States and Canada, the Haudenosaunee Nationals have thrived in recent years. The men’s team finished third at the last two Field Lacrosse World Championships in 2014 and 2018. The women’s team finished eighth out of 29 teams at this month’s Women’s World Championship in Maryland.
It was all the more confusing when the men’s team for the 2022 World Games – which marked the debut of men’s lacrosse and the second appearance of the women’s game – over an apparent confusion between World Lacrosse, the sport’s global governing body, and the International World Games Association about the permission of the team. The Haudenosaunee are spread across Ontario, Quebec and upstate New York and carry their own passports. You are not currently a member of the United Nations or the IOC
The news caused a bit of an uproar. Lacrosse officials eventually signaled a willingness to change course, but there was a problem: At the time, the eight-team men’s field was considered closed. The situation was finally resolved when the Ireland national team agreed to give up their place in Birmingham in order to field the Haudenosaunee. (The women’s field was not decided until this month’s World Championships, after the Haudenosaunee was declared eligible.)
“What competition would you have in lacrosse if you didn’t have the first nation that ever played and is still one of the best?” said men’s team coach Peter Milliman, who has no Indigenous heritage.
That very question could echo all the way to the 2028 Olympics.
In 2018, the IOC offered World Lacrosse (then known as the Federation of International Lacrosse) so-called provisional recognition, which meant the federation and its several dozen member nations could receive financial support from the IOC. The decision was also interpreted as a sign that lacrosse, last played as a medal competition in 1904 and 1908, could return to the Olympic program in time for the 2028 Los Angeles Games.
But if the Olympic community includes the somewhat quintessentially American sport for upcoming games in the US, can it reasonably exclude its creators?
For the Haudenosaunee, there are a few theoretical pathways to participation.
There are already nearly a dozen territories that are IOC members despite not having UN membership, including Puerto Rico and Hong Kong. To be officially recognized by the IOC, the Haudenosaunee would need to form a National Olympic Committee, which would require them to gather athletes in at least four other sports, among other administrative details.
Some see the traditional route to IOC membership as arduous given the time constraints. The IOC could also issue some sort of special invitation to the Haudenosaunee, perhaps similar to how it has allowed refugee teams to compete in recent games.
“You see some of the sports in the Olympics and it’s like, ‘Why isn’t lacrosse in the Olympics?'” said Cassandra Minerd, 27, a member of the women’s team. “And if you want lacrosse, the people who made the game have to be there.”
In Birmingham this month, lacrosse was played in the “six” format – smaller and faster than the established field and box lacrosse disciplines – which international officials have been developing for potential use at the Olympics.
Neither the Haudenosaunee men’s nor women’s team made it onto the podium – a disappointment especially for the men who attended the Games third in the world rankings – but the players nonetheless found the experience fulfilling. One night they accepted an invitation from the Cherokee tribe of northeast Alabama to have dinner at a local hotel.
“The game you see out there, the long stick game, is our game,” Oren Lyons, 92, who founded the Haudenosaunee team, told the assembled group. “It took our team all over the world. And it has given people a chance to understand that the Native American nations are still here.”
Later, Greg Drowning Bear, one of the Cherokee members, led the players and coaches in a traditional quail dance. Hands on hips, elbows stretched out to the side, the players crooked with laughter as they hopped across the hotel conference room to a beat of drums.
Before they all dispersed, Tracy Shenandoah, 65, the men’s team’s spiritual advisor, called for backup. A recent influx of funds has enabled the Haudenosaunee to begin building a dedicated youth development program – including for players from other Indigenous nations.
“If you guys have players and they make it, we’re open to other Native Americans,” Shenandoah told her Cherokee hosts.
Shenandoah plays a central role on the men’s team. Before each game this month, he gathered the players on the pitch for a moment of reflection. Standing in a circle, the players took puffs from a pipe filled with tobacco. Then they walked around a blue cool box, drank medicinal tea and also wet their hands and heads with it.
Throughout the tournament, players took every opportunity to educate viewers about their culture.
“It’s liberating to be here, liberating to fly our flags, and liberating to wear the Haudenosaunee name on our chests as we walk around and play,” Minerd said.
This pride has become an important antidote to the pain of discrimination some players faced growing up playing the game. Lois Garlow, 21, a member of the women’s team, rattled off a series of such incidents in quick succession.
There were the times when opponents and fans would hurl insults or make tomahawk gestures, the time at a tournament in Albany when a man told her and her teammates they were “pretty good for a bunch of Indians,” and the time when her cousins were told about it during a game to “get back on the trail of tears”.
Garlow also mentioned a National Lacrosse League game three years ago when Lyle Thompson, one of the best men’s players in the world (who was out through injury this month), was repeatedly joked by a speaker about cutting his long braids — an important symbol in his culture — and taunts from fans for scalping him.
“It’s dehumanizing,” Garlow said. “We’re growing as a society, but there definitely needs to be more education.”
But there are also signs of a spreading awareness of the game’s origins and a willingness to learn more.
At the Women’s World Cup a week before the World Games, the Canadian team wore jerseys with the logo of Every Child Matters, a campaign in support of survivors of Canada’s boarding school system, where indigenous children were often brutally deprived of their culture.
The Premier Lacrosse League has begun conducting pre-game land recognition ceremonies to recognize an area’s indigenous people.
And in a growing number of lacrosse arenas, the US and Canadian flags commonly seen at locations across North America now fly alongside a purple Haudenosaunee flag.
That’s why the visibility they enjoyed in Birmingham – and the recognition they want in the future – is so important to them.
“Western society keeps trying to push us back and erase us from the history books,” said Kason Tarbell, 25, a member of the men’s team, “but with our flag flying with every other country, we’re still here and we are.” we are still fighting.”