Why conservatives are attacking a law meant to protect Native American families

My grandmother Inez was a striking beauty, and quiet. Seen but not heard. She was the youngest of 11 siblings in a family that lived in Albuquerque. Through circumstances that remain hazy today, she was adopted by a white couple in the 1930s. For the rest of her life, Inez suffered from depression and anxiety, which she medicated with alcohol. My father was raised enveloped by her pain. At age 16, just before Thanksgiving, he found her body on the living room couch; she died of liver cirrhosis.

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