There is way too much purple inside the gymnasium of the Coffin Sports Complex for it to ever be confused with Allen Fieldhouse.

But Ian Stand swears there is a similarity, if people will just take the time to find a seat in the gold and purple bleachers.

“You come out here to a basketball game, and you’ll hear a lot of noise,” Stand says. “I promise you that. You’ll love it, especially if you are wearing a Haskell shirt.”

That shirt pretty much will make you an honorary member of the family here at the home court for Haskell Indian Nations University. Stand, a senior at the university, says that is the way it works here on the campus that is just south and east of 23rd and Massachusetts streets.

“That’s what’s beautiful about Haskell because it is a place where people come together,” Stand says.

Well, unless you’re an average Lawrence resident. Let’s face it, most of us don’t know much about Haskell, even though the institution this week is marking its 130th year in Lawrence. Take me, for example. Sure, I’ve been to the fine Indian Art Market before, and as a journalist, I’ve covered some events and meetings on the campus.

But when I decided last week that I wanted to spend some time talking to students at Haskell, the first thing I thought I discovered was that Haskell has a really boring student union. Hallways and a couple of benches and lots of offices. Then, I realized I was in the wrong building. I’ve lived here 23 years and I didn’t even know where the student union was. There are historic buildings on the campus, some dating back to the late 1800s, and I’ve never been in them.

Stand tells me not to feel bad. He says there probably are some people who feel like if they aren’t Indian they wouldn’t be welcome on the campus, or aren’t supposed to be here. Administration officials stressed that’s not the case at all. The campus is federal property. It’s your campus, too, and they want visitors.

But the thought does persist with some.

“And there probably are some Haskell students who feel the same way about Massachusetts Street,” Stand says. “I think sometimes we’re both missing out.”

I know I’ve been missing out on the student union: $1.50 corn dogs, Frito Pie, good pool tables and a large room full of big-screen TVs. They may never get rid of me.

•••

In its 130 years, Haskell probably has never been confused with Kansas University. KU is on the Hill. Haskell is on the part of the city that begins to flatten out as it heads to the Wakarusa River.

And the two campuses certainly do feel different. For one, parking. Oh my heavens, it is possible to find a free parking spot at an institution of higher learning, and not have to carry an acetylene torch with you to cut off the inevitable wheel lock.

But the biggest difference surely is size. Haskell’s enrollment this semester is 790 students, says Stephen Prue, executive assistant to the president. About 600 of the students live on campus.

Parents of university students interrupt me to point out that the biggest difference between Haskell and a standard university isn’t size, but surely must be its tuition. Haskell students pay only $715 a semester in fees. That includes a meal plan, housing plan, class fees, activity fees and pretty much all the other basics needed to attend the university. The university receives about $12 million a year from the federal government, an amount that has increased a bit now that sequestration has eased.

But before you fill your entire wardrobe full of Haskell gear, it is important to note that only members of a federally-recognized tribe are eligible to attend Haskell. Prue says each recognized tribe has its own process for determining whether an individual is eligible for membership.

Haskell’s history also is different than most universities’. When the school was founded, it was a boarding school for young Indian children — and not the type where kids could call mom and dad and say they wanted to come home now.

“The state motto for a long time was kill the Indian, save the man,” says Prue, who says the 100 years section of the Journal-World sometimes includes a mention of an old article about Haskell students who “escaped” but were later “captured.”

But the institution has evolved. Up until the 1960s, it was a high school and vocational education center. In the 1970s, it became a junior college, and in the early 1990s it began offering its first four-year degrees. Today, it offers a host of two-year associate degrees, and four-year degrees in American Indian Studies, business administration, environmental science and elementary education.

There is at least one other difference with Haskell: Not every university can claim it has the No. 1 brand in the country in education. Prue says that in Haskell’s country — Indian Country — Haskell certainly is the most well-known and respected institution of higher learning.

“That’s not us bragging, it is just if you are in Indian Country, and you mention you are from Haskell, they know that Indian logo, they know the arch over the football stadium. We are instantly recognizable. We’re very proud of what we have become.”

•••

Forget what I just said about size, and tuition and history. Let’s be honest: the real difference at Haskell are the people. To state the obvious, they’re Indians, and they are different than us non-Indians.

I’m hoping that some students I talk to will be able to clue me in on those differences, because I’m the first to admit that I don’t understand all of them. Certainly, we both share a lot of common values, but there are differences in how we think.

Students stressed to me that they believe many non-Indians don’t recognize that there is a breadth of diversity within Indian culture. There are more than 560 federally recognized tribes, and they all have their own cultures. As one student pointed out to me, a tribe in Alaska is going to have quite a bit different culture than a tribe from Arizona.

But some themes emerged. Many students said a respect for the environment was stressed in their upbringing, and not just the physical environment.

“You are always told by your elders that you are supposed to respect your surroundings,” said Isaac Johnson, a sophomore at Haskell. “I truly don’t fully understand what that means yet, but I’m getting there.”

Amie Holden, a junior at Haskell, said the role elders play in the Native American community seems different. She said much is different on a reservation.

“Living here in a city and living on a reservation are two different worlds,” Holden said. “I can’t really explain it, but it is just completely different.”

The role of heritage also seems to be heightened. One of the unique aspects about Haskell is that you don’t just ask someone where they are from, but you also can ask them what tribe they belong to. That’s not to say that every student knows a lot about their tribe’s history and culture. Jazmine Jefferson, a freshman, grew up in Lawrence and graduated from Lawrence High. She is a member of the Choctaw Nation, but it is not like there is a Choctaw reservation in Lawrence. She said she didn’t know much about her tribe growing up. But she likely soon will. There is a Choctaw club at Haskell, and the university makes it a priority to help students learn about their heritage.

“I think I’m going to grow a lot here,” Jefferson said.

I’m sure all those factors play into our differences, but I can’t help but wonder if there is not something else. I ask Stand, the Haskell senior and basketball promoter, for his thoughts. He pauses for a second, and I think I’m finally going to get my answer.

“I don’t think I would be doing you any favors by telling you that,” he says. “The best chance of learning that is to come around Haskell more. You’ll learn more about native people firsthand than you will any other way.”

And the beauty is, because of Haskell, Lawrence has an opportunity that most communities don’t. Maybe we could start by going to Coffin Sports Complex. Rooting for a basketball team. That’s something both of us understand.

— Each Sunday, Lawhorn’s Lawrence focuses on the people, places or past of Lawrence and the surrounding area. If you have a story idea, send it to Chad at clawhorn@ljworld.com.