'I am a white person'
Elizabeth Hoover aka Liz Hoover 'deeply sorry' for wrongdoing but won't leave prominent perch in academia
Last fall, Dr. Elizabeth Hoover, aka Liz Hoover, released a “Statement about Identity” in which she admitted she had no ties to the tribal nations she repeatedly claimed while building a career in Native food sovereignty and Native environmentalism.
What Hoover left out of the October 20, 2022, statement were any feelings of regret or remorse for her decades of Pretendianism. Instead, she blamed her family for filling her head with trauma and stereotypes about Native peoples — false narratives that she willingly believed, promoted and trafficked while pursuing advanced degrees, writing books and making public appearances as person of supposed “Mohawk” and “Mi’kmaq” descent.
Well more than six months later, Hoover is back with an addendum to to the “Identity” page on her website, profelizabethmhoover.com. This time, she finally admits that she’s a “white person” who pretended to be Native for her “whole life.”
“I am a white person who has incorrectly identified as Native my whole life, based on incomplete information,” Hoover writes in a “Letter of Apology and Accountability” on May 1, 2023.
“In uncritically living an identity based on family stories without seeking out a documented connection to these communities, I caused harm,” she continues.
It’s a stunning admission of fraud, of course, but all the more interesting coming from someone who obtained a doctorate from an Ivy League institution while never bothering to probe, investigate or look into the faulty family lore that she relied on to get to her position of prominence. Or at least that’s what we are supposed to believe.
Hoover further acknowledges that claiming to be of “descent” from Native nations to which they don’t belong goes against the very notion of sovereignty that she pretended to be supporting through her work in Native food and environmental circles.
“That was wrong, and I now recognize that by doing this, I was, in fact, subverting the sovereignty of the Nations I was identifying with,” the new statement reads.
Hoover adds: “I was wrong and should have done my due diligence in response to those who were only guarding the integrity of their community.”
With the statement, Hoover also acknowledges that she repeatedly side-stepped questions about her tribal connections by shifting the blame to others. For decades, she thought that anyone who dared ask about her invented background was motivated by “petty jealousy” or was just trying to “interfere” with the life that she built on what she admits are lies about being Native.
But with the admission of wrongdoing and harm out of the way, what exactly does Hoover plan to do to account for where she is today, in May 2023? Not very much, it turns out!
Hoover, for instance, has no plans on leaving her post at the University of California, Berkeley. She writes that she was hired based on an “open call for scholars that focus on environmental justice or food justice” — and not on her false claims of Native belonging.
What she omits is that she is only a scholar in those fields based on her admitted wrongdoing in claiming to be Native. The word “justice” doesn’t seem to mean a whole lot here.
And Hoover has already explained — at least to herself — why she can't leave Berkeley, and why she has to continue taking up space in Native circles, whether Native people like it or not. That’s the only way, apparently, she can “funnel the proceeds” of her talks and from her book sales “into Native farm, food sovereignty, and educational programs.”
“I will make additional donations to practitioners in these fields,” Hoover writes.
So there you have it folks. Hoover isn’t going anywhere — even though the Native community that she pledges to respect already called on her to step down from Berkeley. To date, 360 people have signed a “Collective statement on Elizabeth Hoover” that was developed by three Native scholars: Ataya Cesspooch (Ute, Assiniboine, and Lakota), Sierra Edd (Diné) and Breylan Martin (Tlingit-T’akdeintaa).
“We demand that Elizabeth Hoover resign from her position as Associate Professor of Environmental Science, Policy, and Management (ESPM) and leave UC Berkeley,” the Native-led statement reads.
And we already know where Berkeley, as a public, land grand institution, stands. The university considers Hoover’s situation — meaning a “white person” who lied about being Native — to be a “deeply personal matter” that they don’t plan on addressing any time soon.
Full “Letter of Apology and Accountability” from profelizabethmhoover.com follows:
Letter of Apology and Accountability
May 1, 2023
I have brought hurt, harm, and broken trust to the Native community at large, and to specific Native communities I have worked with and lived alongside, and for that, I am deeply sorry.
I am a white person who has incorrectly identified as Native my whole life, based on incomplete information. In uncritically living an identity based on family stories without seeking out a documented connection to these communities, I caused harm. I hurt Native people who have been my friends, colleagues, students, and family, both directly through fractured trust and through activating historical harms. This hurt has also interrupted student and faculty life and careers. I acknowledge that I could have prevented all of this hurt by investigating and confirming my family stories sooner. For this, I am deeply sorry.
Having my family claim Native identity does not mean Native nations claimed us. By claiming an identity as a woman of Mohawk and Mi’kmaq descent without confirming it with communities of origin, and by not confirming kinship ties back to politically and culturally affiliated Indigenous peoples, I betrayed and hurt my students, collaborators, and friends. I have negatively impacted people emotionally and culturally. For this hurt I have caused, I am deeply sorry.
Growing up I did not question who I was told I was, or how I identified. But as an adult, as an academic, I should have done my due diligence to confirm that my ancestors were who I was told they were. In my twenties and thirties, I lived in different Native communities, where I knew I did not have the breadth and depth of connection that these folks had to Native family, history, and culture. At the time I wrongly felt that my distant connection was enough for me to claim a Native identity alongside them. This identity guided the types of research and community work I carried out, and the communities I sought to be part of—communities who may or may not have welcomed me in the same way had I identified as white.
I was first directly challenged in my Indigenous identity when I began my first assistant professor job. At the time, I interpreted inquiries into the validity of my Native identity as petty jealousy or people just looking to interfere in my life. As such, I allowed my ego to drive my response and answered these inquiries with my family’s story, rather than doing the proper research for the correct documentation to unequivocally prove that I was descended from these communities. That was wrong, and I now recognize that by doing this, I was, in fact, subverting the sovereignty of the Nations I was identifying with. I was wrong and should have done my due diligence in response to those who were only guarding the integrity of their community.
Identifying as a Native person gave me access to spaces and resources that I would not have otherwise, resources that were intended for students of color. Before taking part in programs or funding opportunities that were identity-related or geared towards under-represented people I should have ensured that I was claimed in return by the communities I was claiming. By avoiding this inquiry, I have received academic fellowships, opportunities, and material benefits that I may not have received had I not been perceived as a Native scholar. My current position was an open call for scholars that focus on environmental justice or food justice and was not part of the Native American Studies cluster hire, which was launched subsequently and is ongoing. Though my current position is separate from the Native American Studies cluster, I recognize that I harmed those who advocated for me and trusted me as an advisor, educator, and community member.
I also want to acknowledge the harm I have caused by entering ceremonial and social spaces reserved for Native people. People invited me into these spaces with the understanding that I was a Native person, and I deeply regret the pain I have caused to some by entering those spaces. I deeply regret not investigating my blood ties before entering ceremonial spaces explicitly reserved for Native people, and I feel devastated to have perpetuated harms caused by white people on Native communities. Any knowledge or experiences I gained as a result of being in these spaces are not mine to share, and I will continue to hold them close to my chest. To those who welcomed me into your spiritual spaces, gardens, kitchens, and homes, I am truly sorry to have broken trust in this way. I realize it will take time and much more than a written apology to regain the trust of those who might welcome me into appropriate spaces again. I accept that many relationships may be broken beyond repair and recognize that this is the outcome of my willful ignorance.
The debate around my identity, and the turmoil it has caused on social media and in various circles, have been very harmful to people associated with me. I understand that even those who stand by my side have been harmed and their support often means enduring more grief, and I’m sorry for what they have endured as a result.
This apology has taken longer than expected, which may have caused more harm: it is based on deep self-reflection and input from others. This apology, insufficient as I imagine it is, in light of all that has happened, is an initial step in my attempts to take accountability for the harms that I’ve caused, in an effort to begin to acknowledge the hurt that people have felt as a result of my life and my actions. For many people, this letter will not provide relief or repair, and, as painful as that may be, I will accept that. This statement is not intended to be a comprehensive apology to everyone I’ve hurt, or a comprehensive listing of the actions I will be taking going forward, but a start, a beginning.
Going forward it is my hope that this apology will open pathways for repair with those who would still choose to be in relationship with me. I have been working with restorative justice facilitators to better understand how members of the UC Berkeley campus community have felt harmed and betrayed, and ways I can work to meaningfully make amends for this. I recognize this will take time and am committed to staying with this process. I will give space to those who need it as part of their healing process, and will be here if and when people would like to dialogue with me about how I can productively address the harm I’ve caused. I am also beginning to work on dialoguing with people outside of the campus community that I have worked with in an effort to figure out how I can be accountable to them. I don’t have all the answers, or even very many answers right now. I’m open to exploring the best ways forward.
Initial commitments going forward
I will continue to funnel the proceeds from my talks and book sales into Native farm, food sovereignty, and educational programs. I will make additional donations to practitioners in these fields.
I have put away my dance regalia, ribbons skirts, moccasins, and Native jewelry. I’ve begun to give away some of these things to people who will wear them better.
I will continue to reach out and be available to the communities and individuals I have engaged with over the years to learn more about how these revelations about my identity have harmed them, and what I can do to make up for that.
I have committed to engaging in the restorative justice process taking place on campus and will continue to do so, as well as supporting restorative justice processes in other circles I have been involved with, where my participation is invited.
I will work with campus partners to provide support to students who have been directly impacted by my inaccurate self-identification as an Indigenous scholar
Based on ongoing personal reflection, conversations with colleagues, and especially keeping in mind the communities I have worked with and for, I will gear future research towards supporting people and communities with whom I have an authentic relationship and will accept spaces where communities ask me to step back. I will be transparent about my identity journey and the new role I’m occupying. In addition to having my research serve the communities I work with, my desire is to continue to contribute to student learning and academia more broadly, and I am committed to approaching this with thoughtfulness towards what has happened.
Thank you all for your time, openness, and the emotional labor you’ve provided in reading this and during the previous months.