sarahBy Daniel G. Nolett and Suzie O’Bomsawin
We write in response to Giovanna Peebles’ recent commentary “History is on the Side of Vermont’s Abenakis” (Feb. 4–17 issue of The Bridge), which advances serious allegations while misrepresenting both our Nation and the substance of our work.
At the outset, we reject the premise that the Abenaki First Nations of Odanak and Wôlinak are “Canadian” actors interfering in Vermont. The Ndakina, our ancestral territory, predates the international boundary imposed by colonial powers. To describe us as foreign to our own homeland is not only inaccurate, it reflects a colonial logic that seeks to divide one people through imposed borders.
We are not “Canadian Abenakis” engaged in “attacks” to “extinguish” Vermont communities, as Giovanna Peebles describes. We are the Abenaki.
Peebles claims that “history is on the side of Vermont’s Abenakis.” Yet her argument rests on selectively invoking complexity when it suits her, while dismissing evidence when it does not. She suggests that history is too “messy” and poorly documented to support rigorous conclusions. At the same time, she defends identity claims that have never been subjected to a transparent and consistent standard of verification. This is not a neutral reading of history. It is an attempt to shield certain claims from scrutiny.
Our concern is grounded in evidence, found in the reports of the Vermont Attorney General and the Bureau of Indian Affairs, peer-reviewed scholarship, and the recent investigations by Vermont Public, VTDigger, New Hampshire Public Radio, the CBC, and APTN.
This is precisely why we commissioned a genealogical study conducted by Professor Darryl Leroux. Contrary to Peebles’ claims, this work follows established methodological standards and was conducted using the very ancestors the self-proclaimed chiefs identified themselves as Abenaki to justify that they were Abenaki during the recognition process. From that starting point, we traced lineage using the publicly available records and established genealogical methods.
Genealogical reconstruction draws on a wide range of sources, and not on a single document, as she argues. It includes parish registers, baptismal and marriage records, notarial archives, and census data. In Québec, this work is supported by one of the most developed genealogical research ecosystems in the world, including decades of scholarship. The findings are not invented as she implies. They are based on data the self-proclaimed Abenaki in Vermont openly provided and on the cumulative weight of consistent, verifiable records. Peebles dismisses this work as “falsehood” and “weaponization.” Yet she does not engage with its substance. She does not refute its findings. Instead, she attempts to discredit the very idea of documentary evidence when it challenges the narrative she has supported for decades.
Moreover, we do not dismiss oral traditions, as Peebles alleges. They are a vital part of Indigenous knowledge systems. However, oral history does not exist in isolation from lineage, kinship, and collective recognition. Identity is not self-declared. It is grounded in continuity with a people.
We are also concerned with the broader pattern that Peebles represents: when evidence-based criticism is raised by Native people, Vermont’s archaeologists double down on fiction, protecting their professional reputations. This is a self-serving misuse of their discipline. They distort our history and reframe us — the original people of this land — as a foreign and hostile threat, inviting the public to respond to us with suspicion.
More troubling still is the escalation of rhetoric in her commentary. To suggest that our work approaches the threshold of the Genocide Convention is not only false, but it is also deeply irresponsible. Such claims trivialize the lived reality of Indigenous peoples who have experienced dispossession, forced assimilation, and cultural destruction. Invoking genocide in this context is not only inaccurate, it also undermines serious discussion.
Peebles also invokes the invisibility of Indigenous peoples in historical records to explain the absence of documentation. On this point, we agree in part. Indigenous peoples were often erased from colonial archives. But this does not mean that identity can be constructed out of nowhere. Invisibility does not validate all claims. If anything, it demands greater rigor, not less.
For too long, non-Indigenous institutions and experts have claimed the authority to define who is and is not Indigenous, often excluding Indigenous nations themselves from that process. This is precisely what international standards such as the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples seek to correct.
Our position has been consistent for over two decades. Vermont’s recognition process did not require demonstrable Abenaki descent through a transparent and rigorous standard. This is not a personal attack. It is a necessary question of accountability in how Indigenous identity is defined and recognized.
We will not accept a situation in which our identity is fragmented, reinterpreted, or reassigned through narratives that disconnect it from lineage, history, and community.
History is not “messy” when it is inconvenient. It is clear on one fundamental point: there is one Abenaki people, whose members live today across Québec, Vermont, New Hampshire, and many other places. The evidence also shows that the self-proclaimed leaders of state-recognized groups do not have Abenaki ancestry, and treating them as such is deeply problematic.
Daniel G. Nolett is the general manager and Suzie O’Bomsawin is the assistant general manager of the Abenaki Council of Odanak. They both reside in Odanak, Quebec.
The material presented here represents the opinion of the authors and does not reflect the opinions of The Bridge. Commentaries may be submitted to editor@montpelierbridge.com. Preference is given to submissions by those who live in central Vermont. Submissions are encouraged to be 500 to 750 words in length.
