Standing our Ground

The evolution of the Coquille tribe’s identity over multiple generations in the face of threats to their tribal sovereignty.


Jason Younker stifled his sobs as he tore down the dirt hill to his Aunt Rose’s house. He was running away from school. Again. He was the only Native student at Charleston Elementary school in Coos Bay, Oregon. Other kids taunted and teased him relentlessly for his dark skin and long, black hair. Their words drove him to tears.


Aunt Rose greeted him with a sad smile and a peanut butter cookie, as she had done many times before. One bite at a time, the tears stopped and his breath slowed.

His father, Tom Younker, ran from the same taunts, down the same hill, nearly 30 years prior.


Jason was bullied for being Native, but in the eyes of the U.S. government, he and his people weren’t Native. They weren’t anything at all. 


Jason’s tribe, the Coquille, was terminated in 1954 under the Western Oregon Termination Act. The Bureau of Indian Affairs states that the act aimed to assimilate Native tribes into American society. The years 1953 to 1968 are known as “The Termination Era.” The Coquille were among 61 tribes to lose federal recognition. Tribal governments were dissolved, tribal lands were sold and the U.S. severed all obligations to help them. 

Jason Younker, Chief of the Coquille Tribe, holds open the Southwest Oregon Research Project (SWORP) inventory archival collection book to reveal an illustrated map.

I really want to follow in my mom's footsteps and opefully end up being on Tribal Council when Im older. said Hallie Chambers (right), Vice Chair of the Tribal Yauth Council and a member of Native Club at Marshfield High School. Hallie and Jackie were some of the youngest members of their respective councils, Tribal Youth and Tribal Council, in Coos Bay, Ore., April 11, 2025.

The act has defined the last three generations of Coquille. Jason’s generation is still tending to their wounds. He calls them scars. These scars have been slow to fade.

“Growing up terminated, everybody tells you you're not Indian,” Jason said. “But when you look the way I do, it’s hard to be anything but.”

During The Termination Era, tribal languages were almost nonexistent, and Natives were considered “second citizens.” Native Americans in Oregon lived in a state of constant contradiction: Their cultural identities made them a target, but their federal status rendered them invisible. The next generation had to be shown, not told, who they were. 

Jason learned to hunt clams by scanning for their shine on the sand. He watched his relatives pick tea in secluded bogs. He helped his father with salmon bakes by collecting firewood. When the bake was finished, he followed his father to the riverbank to return the bones. They spoke in hushed tones to keep their traditions safe. 

After the tribe was terminated, Coquille elders pursued many legal avenues to reinstate their tribe. 


On June 28, 1989, after 35 years of litigation, the Coquille was the last Oregon tribe to be federally reinstated. 


Three decades later, in 2021, Jason became the new chief. Now, it’s his job to show younger generations what it felt like to be terminated and to ensure they have access to the resources he never did. 


The reservation sits on a hill in Coos Bay. It’s equipped with a rehabilitation and fitness center, a police department and a wellness center. All tribal buildings are derived from traditional Native architecture, marked by circular doors.

The longhouse is the heart of the reservation. Modeled after first-hand descriptions, its sacred silence is often broken by chants and cheers during tribal celebrations. These are things Jason could have only dreamed of. He worked hard to make these dreams a reality.


Jason served his tribe long before he became chief. The research he did in his youth returned a wealth of knowledge that allowed Coquille culture to flourish. 


In 1995, Jason joined the Southwestern Oregon Research Project, or SWORP. There, with the help of his younger brother Shirod, he sifted through thousands of documents concerning tribal culture and history that had been lost over the past 150 years. 


The project ran from 1995 to 1999. The research occurred using various archives in Washington, D.C. Its goal was to ensure the tribe had a reliable paper trail documenting Coquille history so their existence would never be questioned again. Written records of lost languages, like Miluk, gave the tribe a foundation to start their language revitalization program.

The SWORP findings and the reinstatement of the tribe changed everything. 

Jason is proud of the growth his people and culture have seen over the last 36 years.

The Coquille pride he lacked in his youth is now strong. Far from the hate of Charleston Elementary, kids play at their own Native education center. The services and resources available to tribal members now are nothing like what he had as a kid. 


He lived 22 years in the terminated generation before the tribe was reinstated. “These were formative years,” Jason said. “Years the younger generations didn’t experience.” 


It was dangerous to be Native at the time. There was shame that came with that title. 


“You end up disavowing yourself of your true identity,” Jason said. “When you’re not a federally recognized tribe, you’re denied it altogether.” 


After reinstatement, the lost knowledge uncovered by SWORP allowed elders to proudly pass on lessons they thought were forgotten.


When tribes in Western Oregon first signed treaties in the 1850s, Congress was expecting a map of their territory in the mail. The map would solidify the location of ceded tribal lands and confirm the location of the Coast Reservation where the tribe was to be relocated. 


The map didn’t arrive in time. Its absence nullified all treaties signed across Western Oregon and began their 134-year struggle to gain federal recognition.


Jason described the map as a “pain point” for his family and elders. He asked about it often as a child. His constant questioning, although innocent, reminded his family of their grief. 


Jason and his brother found the map. 


Their hopes were confirmed as the smooth felt weights unfurled the aged brown parchment. They found it. The symbol of their sovereignty, culture and existence.


“It can’t be,” Jason said. 


It was deep in the cartographic archives in College Park, Maryland. Its discovery provided significant emotional closure.


Now it was time to bring it home.


The two brothers described their findings at a tribal council meeting in 1997. The discovery of the map represented a new cultural and spiritual beginning for the Coquille and all Oregon tribes. “Reinstated” was just a label. The map was proof they had been there all along.


“They were just so…” he paused. “The same feelings that I had felt, the same stories that I had been told, were all welling up. They could finally see the one document that changed seven generations, and now we were able to touch it. People wept.” 


Jackie Chambers was eight years old when the map returned to Coos County. 


At 34, she was the youngest member elected to the Coquille Tribal Council.


She works to secure federal grants for the tribe to provide education, health care and elderly services. In 2024, the federal government provided $32.6 billion in direct funding across all federally recognized tribes. For many tribes, this government stipend was their primary source of income. 


Reductions in government staff and funding in sectors such as the Department of Education, the Department of Health and Human Services, the Department of the Interior and especially the Bureau of Indian Affairs have left government-dependent tribes reeling. The BIA oversees almost all services provided to Native Americans. 


For the Coquille, government staffing and funding cuts are a wake-up call and a reason to be concerned for generations to come. 


When the tribe was reinstated, it took years for the discovery of the map and SWORP’s findings to be felt and adopted by the Coquille. Because of this, pieces of cultural knowledge were lost on members of Jackie’s generation. 


Reinstatement brought the introduction of “Indian Ed” programs into school systems, but they were still in their infancy. To Jackie, they felt like more of a chore than an opportunity to learn about her people. 


“It almost felt like I was being punished,” she said. Jackie noted that she learned more about tribal history during her time on the council than she ever did in “Indian Ed.” 


The generation of Jackie’s daughter, Hallie, will be most affected by changes in national legislation. Hallie is 14-year-old stand-out freshman at Marshfield High in Coos Bay, an athlete, a thespian, a committed student and a born leader. Above all, she is Coquille, overflowing with pride for her tribe. 


“One of the first things I tell most people when I meet them is ‘I’m Native’,” she said. “I don’t think I remember a single time in my life when the tribe hasn’t been involved in some way.” 


Hallie is the vice chair of the Coquille Youth Council and hopes to be the first Native student to learn Miluk as her high school language requirement. It would be a milestone in the tribe’s efforts to revitalize the language.


Like Jason and his dad, Hallie now helps with tribal ceremonies, including salmon bakes. Now, she returns the bones to the river, and continues the tradition. 


The knowledge brought by SWORP and the revitalization efforts of Jackie’s generation have fostered a strong sense of identity and pride. Although Hallie never experienced termination first-hand, she understands the lasting pain it evokes within her community.  

 

“People try not to bring it up,” Hallie said. “But it's still something that needs to be talked about.” Every year, the tribe celebrates Restoration Day to remind younger generations of their parents and grandparents' struggles. 


“[There is] such a huge difference in the knowledge that she's going to be able to carry to the next generation,” Jackie said. “She is so proud to be part of the tribe. Not that I'm not, but when I was growing up, I didn't really know what it meant to be tribal.” 


Hallie’s generation is full of kids just like her. Their pride for their tribe is made stronger by stories of The Termination Era.


Jason and the council have concerns about the current presidential administration. The previous Trump presidency demonstrated hostility toward Native tribes on multiple occasions. In 2020, the administration ordered the disestablishment of the Mashpee Wampanoag tribal reservation in eastern Massachusetts. Without a physical reservation, tribal services can’t be established. They were stripped of their right to self-govern. 


Though the Mashpee sued the government for violating their land trust agreements, the case was dropped when former President Biden restored their land. The Mashpee Wampanoag narrowly escaped what was, in essence, a modern-day termination. 


“The brazen nature of all of these acts, whether it be tribally affiliated or federal executive orders, are unsettling,” Jason said. For older Coquille, fear is a natural response to repeated betrayal. They are not certain of what’s to come.


“[This fear] picks at the wounds you carry with you, the scars you’ll have for the rest of your life. And so they start to hurt again,” Jason said.


According to the Associated Press, the Department of Government Efficiency ordered the General Services Administration to terminate all 7,500 employees as part of federal downsizing. This includes 25 BIA offices, shrinking its size by 27% and putting essential Native services like education, transportation, housing and law enforcement at risk.


Preparations are in place to sustain tribal living for at least three years without the help of federal grants. The Coquille hope to increase their preparations, so that there is an eight-year cushion for safety. Their strategy moving forward is to do what they’ve always done: stand their ground.


“We aren’t going anywhere,” Hallie said, smiling. “No one is going to be able to change that.”