I see what white people are best at—failed good intentions. A chimeric assemblage of thousands of years of culture and vibrance processed neatly and filtered through the perceptions of the colonizer, and put on display to comfort, not those who have suffered at the hands of this brutal colonial project—but the oppressors themselves.

I see desire to seek inspiration and clarity to the divine. I see respect of spiritual order and respect.

I hate it and usually use the back entrance to avoid it. It tells me that the Museum isn’t for Native people like me, but for white people and their false impressions of reality.

I see a proud and defiant man ready to fight for his people and his culture.

• Inaccurate portrayal of a Native American man
• Shows him looking passive as if welcoming visitors onto land that was stolen from Native people
• Not an accurate depiction of what a Native person would look like today
• Perpetuates a stereotype that is harmful to Native communities

Northeastern student

Upon first glance, the statue shows a strong man riding a majestic horse. He seems free and spiritual. He appears to be looking to his spiritual guides. It is a very powerful statue.

• Freedom
  Open palms representing peace, surrender, and identification. Embracing thyself
• Power
  Symmetrical posture shows confidence and upward stare shows surrender
• Culture
  His apparel and appearance, mounting of the horse shows skill

The installation draws on several stereotypes, contributing to the seemingly perennial romanticization and ignorance toward the Native peoples. More accurate depictions should be the norm, however, it also must be noted that Dallin’s piece still is one of the few attempts at honoring the history of this Indigenous people and has some worth.

I have always loved this Dallin sculpture. Regal, noble, humility before God. Lovely and respectful.

Sad because it’s not pretty. —Nayeli (3 y/o)

Freedom, and sacred. —Nayeli’s dad

It’s interesting how the horse is standing still not in mid-movement. The figure on the horse is not allowed to take action. He’s asking for help, as shown even by the title. He’s not allowed the resistance his society must have surmounted. Always important to consider perspective, even if intentions seem good at first. White savoir BS.

When I see the statue, I see a warrior!

Today is a really sunny day and the stature is facing into the sunlight, looking right up at it. It seems like he’s appreciating the sun and earth and drawing power from it, creating a sense of fearlessness and freedom.

I see a perfect illustration of intent vs. impact: a well-meaning sculptor setting out to honor Native Americans has nonetheless perpetuated stereotypes about what Native Americans “look like” and notions of them as “vanishing.”

If the artist had consulted with Native Americans from the local area to make the statue, why did he still create a statue of a Plains Indian? I wish I could ask!

When I look at the statue I see resilience, survival, and pain. All the pain Indigenous people have encountered matched their sense of strength and survival is why we will never forget and will continue to share their legacy. —Amainaris Sanchez, educator, Latinx, Taina, Boston Native.

My children described the sculpture as capturing artist’s idea. The man on the horse seems to be enjoying the day. He has shoes, but no clothes. “Were clothes not invented yet?” my son asked. The feathers on his head—those are called a headdress.

When I look at this image through their eyes, I see an image that tells a story of how stories have been told. The story focuses more on what observers note and imagine, rather than what the thinking human being is actually experiencing. I see an image and label that conveys a certainty that is unattainable. I think we need to rethink the placements and position of this piece of work. And continue use it to check our interpretive lenses.