The first time I ever heard a land acknowledgment, I was on a panel at a nonprofit conference in Colorado. A Native woman stood up in the audience and started shouting and demanding the floor. Most people were confused, but a few were cheering her on. When the moderator let her speak, she asked to do a “land acknowledgment.” I didn’t know what that was, but she was granted permission and said something about the land to scattered applause before we moved on.
As far as activist tactics go, it was pretty good.
It was much easier for a progressive moderator at a conference with mostly progressive attendees to just say yes than to try to have the woman forcibly removed. It’s a small-bore example of the strategic logic of nonviolent protest, and it succeeded in getting large swathes of progressive America to preemptively start doing land acknowledgments.
The 2024 Democratic platform, for example, commences with a fairly innocuous land acknowledgment, stating that they were gathering on “lands that have been stewarded through many centuries by the ancestors and descendants of Tribal Nations who have been here since time immemorial.” But the Native Governance Center’s guide to Indigenous land acknowledgments tells us, “Don’t sugarcoat the past. Use terms like genocide, ethnic cleansing, stolen land, and forced removal to reflect actions taken by colonizers.”
I think it’s worthwhile to consider the distinction here