A major overhaul of the Hiawatha Golf Course, named after a fictional warrior from a Henry Wadsworth Longfellow poem, is again up for consideration by the Park Board after multiple failed attempts to reduce golf in order to restore the ecology of the floodplain where the course sits.
Now more Indigenous residents are weighing in, saying their views on the importance of wildlife and clean water have been sidelined throughout the past eight years of controversy between the Park Board and advocates of the golf course.
"Frankly, I don't think that people care enough about Native people," said Naomi Anywaush, who has a background in tribal historic preservation, including the protection of burial grounds, wild waters and rice beds. "I think a lot of people think that we are dead and gone as a people ... and that reinforces not listening to Native voices."
The Hiawatha Golf Course Area Master Plan calls for redesigning the course, which sits 4 feet below the level of Lake Hiawatha in the historical Minnehaha Creek floodplain, so that stormwater can flow more naturally through the grounds as the climate changes. The adjustments would allow for a storm sewer diversion and trash collection system in the northwest corner of the site, along with water-cleaning green infrastructure such as stormwater planters and tree trenches. The plan also proposes strategic removal of the golf course fence to allow greater access for non-golfers.
Golf course advocates have successfully blocked the master plan for years because it calls for reducing the 18-hole regulation course to nine holes. That is a nonstarter for some because the Hiawatha Golf Course was among the first five racially integrated courses in the Minneapolis park system. It continues to be home turf for many Black golfers.
For lack of a plan to decrease the excessive groundwater pumping required to keep the course dry and stop the constant flow of trash into Lake Hiawatha, the area's environmental problems remain unresolved.
Lake Hiawatha — engineered out of the former Bde Psin, or Rice Lake — is sacred to the Dakota, who consider the region around the confluence of the Mississippi and Minnesota rivers to be the genesis of their people, subject to fishing and ricing rights under the 1805 Treaty, said Anywaush. In about 1930, park planners dredged the lake — destroying what wild rice grew there — to create a fenced-in golf course.
"Because it's been so polluted by trash, pesticides — a lot of it coming from the golf course — we're unable to even practice our traditional ways with that lake," Anywaush said.