Yearning for a different ending

It is no great secret among those who know me that I am pro-American Indian. Some call me a bleeding heart liberal. If I got involved in the so-called culture wars, I might even, in the heat of battle, be called anti-American. That would be untrue, of course. Probably no one will ever call me anything because I have added nothing to the print body of American history.

But I am pro-Indian. I have always been fascinated by the history of the Indians in Ohio, and the rest of the US as well. Tecumseh was my hero when I was younger, and I still admire him. Every time I reread his story, I hope for a different ending. I know it’s not possible for a book–especially a history book–to suddenly acquire a different ending, but still I yearn for the day when Tecumseh does not fall at the Battle of the Thames, when his Indian confederacy remains strong and manages to stand up to the US and say “this land, here, is ours. Go away.”

I don’t believe the dispute between America and the Indian nations was an either/or situation; unfortunately that’s how it turned out in Ohio. A series of treaties turned Indian landholdings into a hunk of swiss cheese, and then the settlers gobbled that up too. The Wyandots were the last tribe to leave Ohio, in 1843.

Here’s what I find so frustrating. Before they left, the Wyandots owned a twelve mile square hunk of land in present day Wyandot County. It wasn’t even all of Wyandot County. The Americans had all the rest of Ohio: 87+ counties out of 88. Couldn’t they have left the Wyandots alone on their 12 mile square remainder?

But no, they had to have that too.

Just think, if the Wyandots had kept their Ohio lands, we could have had a casino in Ohio today. (I’m being sarcastic about that, but seriously…it would have been a small price to pay for the US to have maintained some sense of pride for having acted morally.)

I’m not crazy–I like being able to live in Ohio and I’m glad my (white) ancestors were able to settle here. I don’t think we should have turned around and gone back to Europe. I like being American.

We’re coming up on Memorial Day, when we honor those brave people who fought and died for our freedom. I am grateful to them for their sacrifice.

I don’t believe it diminishes that gratitude when I remember another, less often honored, sacrifice that enabled the United States to exist.

The American Indians gave up everything. They had been living here, developing communities, civilizations, economies, cultures, everything that makes humans human, for a long time before Europeans came. And because of some freak circumstances, an unbelievably massive percentage of Indians died, just because of the nature of the germs. Devastating. And then came the wars, and the religious challenges, and the cultural clashes. And still Indian communities tried valiantly to do the most basic thing human beings do:

They tried to live. They tried to stabilize their communities, to maintain family ties, to strengthen their economies. It’s hard to persevere when the ground your everyday life depends upon suddenly becomes as unstable as quicksand. It’s hard to plan for the future when you don’t even know if the land you own today will be yours tomorrow–it’s amazing (and heartbreaking) that the Wyandots built houses and planted orchards–orchards–the ultimate long-term investment!

Before I gallop too far ahead on my favorite hobby horse, let me say this. Indians are still here. I don’t want it to sound as if I’m contributing to the Noble Disappearing Savage myth. There are even Indians in Ohio–and I’m not talking about the team on the lake.

I think I’d better just fade away for now.