The first words we hear in Paige Bethmann’s documentary Remaining Native (11/9/2020 4 pm Lincoln Theatre; 11/12/2025 7:30 pm Chase Park Plaza Cinema) are Kuthoven Stevens’ thoughts while running. Like any runner, he monitors his breathing and his body temperature, becoming more aware of himself in the moment. Like some, he also imagines that he’s running not on an asphalt road, but through untouched wilderness. Unlike most, he also imagines that he’s not just running for training, he’s running for his life.
If you know anything about Native American history in the United States, you know that many children were forcibly removed from their families at a young age and taken to boarding schools. The reasons were not subtle: the goal was to extinguish indigenous cultures and replaced them with that of European Americans. Many of these young people were abused physically or sexually, but all were abused through the attempt to separate them from their own culture and, ultimately, from themselves. In response, many ran away, resisting forced assimilation by claiming the only power available to them and literally voting with their feet.
Stevens is aware of this history: his great-grandfather Frank Quinn was taken from his family at age 8 and sent to a residential school, from which he ran away three times. So Stevens comes by both his determination and his athletic ability honestly, and he’s a local star. But he knows that victories on the rez, or even at the Nevada state championships, are not enough to attract the attention of college recruiters and get him to his goal, which is to run for the University of Oregon Ducks (insert obligatory image of Steve Prefontaine).
Remaining Native succeeds at two different goals: it’s a sensitive appreciation of Native American culture including the continuing impact of the residential schools on that culture. It’s also a great sports movie. Stevens wants to be “more than just a small-town boy from Yerington” and is counting on his legs to take him up and out. A coach spotted his talent and offered him coaching via the Reno Running Club, where he sets out on a quest to drop 40 seconds from his time at 3200 meters (the metric equivalent of two miles), which is what he will need to attract the attention of recruiters.
Such is the blessing and the curse of running: the good news is that the currency of times act as a unit of account making it easy to compare runners who have never competed against each other directly. The bad news is that times have an absolute as well as a comparative meaning and winning your state championship counts for not much at all if your time is substantially slower than other champion high school runners. And the argument that you haven’t experienced the kind of competition that could push you to faster times doesn’t carry much weight in a competitive recruiting process.
Stevens’ parents encourage him to pursue his dreams, but they’re also concerned that he may lose himself in the process. Plus, as his father muses, if he leaves to become educated, will he be lost to the reservation together? These concerns play out in the background, along with ruminations about the lingering effects of the Native American boarding schools, illustrated with a wealth of archival materials. At the same time, the more typical sports-movie action has Stevens trying, in one race after another, to run a time that will make him competitive in the college recruiting process. | Sarah Boslaugh
The 34th Annual Whitaker St. Louis International Film Festival runs Nov. 6-16, 2025 at various locations around St. Louis. Further information is available from the Cinema St. Louis web site.
