You’ve probably heard of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma. Maybe you’re even familiar with the Mississippi Band of Choctaw Indians. But if you head down to the piney woods of southwest Alabama, specifically around the border of Mobile and Washington Counties, you’ll find a community that most history books—and the federal government—basically ignore.
They are the MOWA Band of Choctaw Indians.
The name itself is a portmanteau of MObile and WAshington. It’s a group of people who didn’t leave during the Trail of Tears. They stayed. They hid in the swamps. They survived. But survival hasn't translated into the federal recognition they’ve been fighting for since the 1970s. It’s a messy, frustrating, and deeply human story about what happens when your identity depends on a government bureaucracy that seems determined to look the other way.
Why the MOWA Band of Choctaw Indians is Still "Unrecognized"
Federal recognition is everything in Indian Country. It means healthcare through IHS, education grants, and sovereign land rights. The MOWA Choctaw have state recognition—Alabama gave them that in 1979—but the Department of the Interior is a whole different beast.
The Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) has a process called the Federal Acknowledgment Process. It’s notoriously brutal. It requires a "continuous" paper trail of political authority and distinct social community since historical times.
Here is the problem.
When your ancestors were literally hiding in the Alabama wetlands to avoid being forcibly removed to Oklahoma in the 1830s, they weren't exactly keeping detailed meeting minutes for the BIA to review 150 years later. They were trying not to be seen. In the 1990s, the BIA officially turned down their petition. The agency claimed the MOWA couldn't prove their ancestry specifically back to the historical Choctaw tribe to the government's satisfaction.
The tribe fought back. Hard. They pointed to the 1830 Treaty of Dancing Rabbit Creek. They pointed to census records. They pointed to the fact that their families have lived on the exact same land in Mt. Vernon for generations.
Honestly, it feels like a moving goalpost.
Life in Mt. Vernon and the Community Hub
If you drive through Mt. Vernon today, you won't see a sprawling casino or a massive federal complex. You see a tight-knit community centered around the MOWA Choctaw Reservation and the tribal office.
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It’s about 300 to 600 acres of land, depending on how you count the various parcels held by the tribe and its members. This is the heart of the community. They have a tribal church. They have a school. They have a community center.
The elders talk about a time when the MOWA people were segregated—not just from white society, but sometimes from Black society too. They were a "third group" in the Jim Crow South. Because they weren't "white" or "colored" according to the binary laws of the time, they often ended up with their own separate schools and churches. This isolation actually helped preserve their unique culture, but it also fueled a cycle of poverty that the lack of federal recognition only makes worse.
Think about it. Without federal status, they don't get the same economic development tools other tribes use to build a middle class. They’re essentially an island of indigenous identity surrounded by Alabama timberland.
The Ancestry Debate: What the BIA Gets Wrong
The BIA’s rejection in the late 90s focused heavily on a lack of "genealogical evidence." They argued that some MOWA ancestors were actually "Free People of Color" or European settlers who integrated into the community.
The tribe says that’s a gross oversimplification.
Anthropologists like Dr. Richard Stoffle have studied the MOWA and found a consistent, distinct cultural pattern that doesn't just "appear" out of nowhere. The MOWA contend that their ancestors were Choctaw who took "reserve" land under the Treaty of Dancing Rabbit Creek but were later swindled out of it by local land speculators.
Left with nothing, they retreated into the "Reedbrake" and "Piney Woods."
If you look at the names in the community—Weaver, Reed, Taylor, Byrd—these families have been intermarrying and maintaining a distinct social unit for nearly two centuries. To the MOWA, the BIA isn't looking for "truth"; they're looking for an excuse to keep the federal budget from expanding. Every new recognized tribe is another mouth for the government to feed, and the MOWA are a large group, with thousands of enrolled members.
Cultural Survival Against the Odds
Culture isn't just a certificate from Washington D.C.
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Every June, the tribe holds its annual pow-wow. It’s one of the biggest events in southwest Alabama. You see the traditional Choctaw dresses—colorful, intricate, and heavy. You see the stickball games.
Stickball is often called the "little brother of war." It’s violent, fast, and deeply spiritual. Seeing the MOWA youth play it today is a direct middle finger to the idea that their culture died out in the 19th century.
They also maintain a strong oral tradition. Elders pass down stories about "The Old Ones" who lived in the swamps. They talk about the medicinal uses of local plants that the BIA researchers probably couldn't identify if they tried.
It's a living culture.
But it’s also a culture at risk. Without the "official" stamp of approval, it’s harder to get grants for language revitalization. The Choctaw language is struggling within the MOWA community. Most people speak a local dialect of English, peppered with phrases and cadences that feel indigenous, but the fluent Choctaw speakers are largely gone.
The Political Battle: From Sessions to Shelby
For decades, the MOWA have tried the legislative route. If the BIA says no, Congress can still say yes.
Alabama politicians have a weird history with this. Former Senator Jeff Sessions and Senator Richard Shelby occasionally voiced support or introduced bills, but those bills almost always died in committee. Why? Because other recognized tribes often lobby against them.
It’s the ugly side of tribal politics.
Recognized tribes sometimes fear that recognizing "new" groups will dilute their own power or funding. It’s a scarcity mindset forced upon indigenous people by the federal government. The MOWA are stuck in the middle of this tug-of-war.
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The tribe has even taken their case to the United Nations. They’ve argued that the U.S. government is violating their human rights by refusing to acknowledge their existence. It hasn't changed the BIA's mind yet, but it keeps the pressure on.
What You Should Know If You Visit
First off, don't expect a tourist trap. This is a residential and historical community.
If you want to support the MOWA Band of Choctaw Indians, the best time is during their public events.
- The Pow-Wow: Usually held in June. It’s the best way to see the culture firsthand.
- The Tribal Museum: It’s small, but it’s packed with artifacts and family histories that you won't find in the Smithsonian.
- Mt. Vernon History: Take a look at the old Mount Vernon Arsenal and Search Hospital nearby. The MOWA history is inextricably linked to this land.
Respect is the big thing here. This is a community that has been poked, prodded, and "studied" by outsiders for decades. They aren't props. They are a sovereign people—even if the paperwork doesn't reflect that yet.
The Reality of the Future
Where does this go? Honestly, it’s an uphill climb.
The MOWA recently sought to have their case reopened based on new genealogical technology and records, but the legal hurdles are massive. Once the BIA says "no," they don't like to change their minds.
However, the younger generation of MOWA is more tech-savvy and politically active than ever. They are using social media to connect with other "unrecognized" or state-recognized tribes across the South, like the Lumbee in North Carolina. There is a growing movement to reform the BIA’s recognition process entirely, making it less about 19th-century paperwork and more about living, breathing communities.
The MOWA Band of Choctaw Indians aren't going anywhere. They’ve been in those Alabama woods for thousands of years in one form or another. A rejection letter from an office in D.C. doesn't change the blood in their veins or the history of the land they walk on.
Actionable Insights for Supporters and Researchers
If you're looking to dive deeper or support the MOWA, here is how you actually do it without just being a "digital tourist":
- Read the BIA Summary Status: Don't just take the tribe's word or the government's word. Look up the "Summary Under the Criteria for the Proposed Finding on the MOWA Band of Choctaw." It shows exactly where the bureaucratic friction lies and helps you understand the complexity of indigenous law.
- Support Local Education: The MOWA community often lacks the resources for the kind of "official" archival work the BIA demands. Supporting Alabama indigenous history projects or university programs (like those at the University of South Alabama) that partner with the MOWA is crucial.
- Advocate for Recognition Reform: The MOWA's struggle is a symptom of a broken system. Following the work of the Native American Rights Fund (NARF) can give you a better sense of how the legal landscape for unrecognized tribes is shifting.
- Buy Local: When you attend the pow-wow or visit the area, buy directly from MOWA artisans. Economic sovereignty is the first step toward political sovereignty.
The MOWA story is a reminder that history isn't something that just happened in the past. It’s something that is being litigated, denied, and fought for every single day in the backroads of Alabama.