Cecile Hansen’s roots in Indian Country go deep, all the way back to Chief Si’ ahl’ – Chief Sealth – and much earlier, well before the white man arrived in Renton.

For nearly 35 years she has been the “face” of the Duwamish Indian Tribe as its chair. For most of that time she has fought for something fundamental for her tribe – federal recognition and the health and social services that come with it.

The battle was won in 2001, but victory lasted for just 48 hours. The Bush administration stripped the tribe of its recognition. The Duwamish are appealing the decision and a new foe to recognition emerged, the Muckleshoot Indian Tribe, although a federal judge recently ruled the Muckleshoots can’t intervene.

Through it all, the Duwamish, about 600 strong, remained undaunted.

And today they are much more visible than just the few historical markers scattered around, speaking to their history. Anyone who swims at the Renton Community Center knows the name of one of their subchiefs, Henry Moses. Their longhouses dotted the Black River, now just a remnant in southwest Renton.

“We’re here,” says Hansen, the great-great grandniece of Chief Sealth, Seattle’s namesake, as she shows off the 6,000-square-foot longhouse the tribe is building with the help of donations and grants, including from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.

The longhouse on West Marginal Way in south Seattle is not far from the river that bears the tribe’s name. Its openings, one for tribal members and one for the public, are in November.

“We do have a place where we can gather,” said Hansen. The longhouse provides the Duwamish proof that although its members are scattered and as Hansen says, assimilated, they are a tribe.

– Dean A. Radford