Barbara Froman cannot escape the labels. Alcoholic. Warmonger. Primitive.

She is none of these. A Mohawk Indian of mixed blood at Penn State, she has felt the pain of discrimination from both whites and other Indians.

Froman is prohibited from being a part of the longhouse -- the Mohawk religious system -- because her mother is white. But the Canadian native and a student in the special education teacher program keeps in touch with her heritage here through silver-working, wood-carving and embroidering.

To most people in the University and State College community, the small number of American Indians at Penn State do not pose a "problem," one Chippewa Indian says. Instead, they are a curiosity.

Bobby Wright said it is ironic that this curiosity comes at a time when "Indians have all but disappeared."

Wright belongs to the Native American Indian Student Association -- a support group of about 15 people that strives to create a balance between native culture and life at the University.

The group attracts speakers, holds traditional meals and tries to attend pow-wows -- celebrations involving music and dance.

The association draws many of its members from two graduate programs specifically designed for American Indian students: the American Indian Leadership Program and the American Indian Special Education Teacher Training Program.

Both programs are geared toward educating students in skills which will be valuable upon return to the reservation.

Wright believes overt racism toward American Indians is less of a problem at Penn State than at his home in Rocky Boy Reservation in Montana.

In areas where American Indians are more common, racism is more visible, said Wright, research associate and assistant professor in the Center for the Study of Higher Education.

"People are afraid and lash out at things they don't understand," said Wright.

In spite of this, Wright is happy being different.

The reservation atmosphere is cooperative and familial; blood relationship is not necessarily the determinant of family, said Wright.

"A very common element of Indian culture universally is respect for elders," said Wright.

Religion and language are central to Wright's Chippewa culture. Many tribes have not been able to protect the shreds of their dying cultures without the aid of written language and a strong tradition.

Wright's traditional name, given to him in a ceremony during his youth, relates him to the beaver.

"It instructs me to treat the beaver with respect and kinship. It also brings me in relation to a plant, the sweet grass," said Wright.

"There's nothing I've experienced in 'the white world' to compare to Indian traditional ceremonies," said Wright. But there is also nothing like experiencing discrimination.

Wright remembers going into stores and instantly being suspected of shoplifting.

"I've suffered the psychological conflict that comes from being part of a minority group in a dominant society that has systematically excluded and denigrated our way of life. It is a much more subtle but more tragic consequence of racial discrimination," said Wright.

While Wright may not have experienced racism at Penn State, other American Indians have not been as fortunate.

Because of his traditional practices, Stephen Roy has met with everything from strange looks to harassment.

Penn State has been no exception.

"I've learned to be shy about my customs, and practice them when other people aren't around," said Roy, a member of the Abenaki nation of Concord, New Hampshire.

Even if people do not verbally express their prejudice, Roy notices the effect his appearance has on the way people treat him. He wears his hair braided in one long plait down his back.

"When I came to Penn State, people asked me if I lived in a tipi. They simplified their language as if I was some sort of primitive being who couldn't comprehend things." said Roy (senior-public service).

He remembers one night at an outdoor concert when he and his wife were smoking sweet fern to ward off the hungry mosquitoes. A man sitting next to them threatened to call the police if they did not stop.

"The man suspected we were smoking something else," said Roy.

His family has recently been harassed by a neighbor in Milesburg, said Roy. The neighbor allegedly insulted his children's ethnicity, spit on Roy's car and threw trash on his lawn, said Roy.

Roy quickly realized most people in Central Pennsylvania are more affluent than his kin in the Abenaki nation.

"I owned a car. But people here don't think owning a car is a big deal. When I went to pow-wows, people called it a 'rez car,' meaning it wouldn't be quite legal off the reservation."

By participating in traditional medicine worship, Roy strives to maintain ties to his culture. Plant medicine was passed down from his father and brothers. Certain plants cure various ailments. The Ghost Plant heals eye irritations and wild mint cures stomach and head aches.

The need to preserve his culture and native identity has often put Roy at odds with dominant American culture.

He fought an $800,000 court battle over his daughter's Social Security number, which was automatically issued at birth. Roy and his wife protested the infringement on their daughter's freedom to choose.

They wrote Social Security a letter asking the number be erased. Social Security would not erase the number and the case was taken to the U.S. Supreme Court, Roy said.

"It ended up that the number was erased -- the first time in history a Social Security number has been erased," said Roy.

Roy objects to Social Security numbers for the same reason he does not have his photograph on his student identification card.

"It's not right that a symbol be used to identify me. It questions my individual uniqueness. What's religious and sacred cannot be separated from the whole," said Roy.

Roy plans a career in public service after he completes law school. He wishes to "serve human needs rather than gain prestige or income."

The University must do more than just recruit American Indians, he said. It must create an environment in which the students can take advantage of the opportunities offered by the University without relinquishing their culture.

"I wish we could raise the consciousness about the plight of families and communities here. Penn State recruits Native Americans to study here but they don't get enough money and resources to survive. Most don't make it and experience suffering, anger and frustration. Another generation is being raised in anger," he said.

The small number of American Indians at Penn State makes the task of retaining culture especially difficult, said Steve Rhodd, a Potowatami Indian from Oklahoma.

Rhodd remembers drawing water from the well on his grandparents' property as a child in Potowatami County, Oklahoma. He would fill two buckets and set the water out overnight. In the morning, the drinking water floated atop the muddy sediment which lined the bottom of the bucket.

But today, Rhodd is thousands of miles from home.

Rhodd studies in Penn State's American Indian Special Education Teacher Training Program. This program is designed to prepare American Indians to be special education teachers, of whom there is now a shortage. Since the program's inception in 1983, more than 20 American Indian students have graduated.

Rhodd grew up on 200 acres of traditional Potowatami land. His father, a career military officer, is a Potowatami Indian and his mother is a Choctaw. Spending much of his childhood with his grandparents, he had regular contact with his culture.

Having served in the United States Air Force for seven years and completed a tour of duty in Thailand during the Vietnam War, Rhodd said joining the armed services is customary.

"Though I disagreed with the war, it was something I felt I had to do," said Rhodd.

"The Potowatami, 'People of the Fire,' along with many Woodland and Plains Indians, have a strong tradition of being warriors," he said.

Rhodd learned to hunt and fish at age seven. He learned to deer hunt with a bow and arrow and catch catfish by hand.

At Penn State, American Indians are grouped together as one people, despite the more than 250 different languages and cultures that exist, said Roger Larson, a Minnesota Chippewa and president of the student association.

Born on the 40-square miles of Chippewa land in Minnesota, Larson now spends his time as a graduate student in the special education teacher program.

Larson refers to non-Indians as "white men." It is the "white's man's" government that has crowded the American Indians into undesirable lands.

"The reservations are usually remote areas with not a lot of resources -- often lakes, woods, and swamps," he said.

Larson believes his education at Penn State gives him something to offer the reservation when he returns.

Education and role models can make a difference in whether American Indians can step forward to dispel stereotypes, he said.

"It's not right that people think just because you're Indian, you get a monthly check from the government," Larson said.