On my way back from the Badlands, I stopped at
"Register Cliff," which is located near Fort Laramie, Wyoming. The
cliff sits along the old Oregon Trail. It is right next to the North
Platte River, and was used by those using the trail from 1846 to 1869 as a place to carve their names, often to let others in subsequent wagon trains know they were OK.
As I examined the cliff, I found myself filled with mixed emotions. On the one hand, I imagined the excitement and optimism of the 400,000+ emigrants who used the trail to make the 2,200 mile trek from Missouri to Oregon, where they hoped to start a brand new life. I also thought of the 20,000 who died of cholera along the way, and wondered at the fact that the numerous crossings made on the North Platte River would have been quite difficult.
However, I also wondered how the Native Peoples must have felt at seeing a seemingly endless string of travelers entering their lands. The National Park Service movie at Fort Laramie mentions the fact that many of the Oregon Trail travelers were surprised to find - contrary to stories they'd heard - that the Indians were actually quite friendly. The movie makes a point of saying that less than 2% of the deaths occurring along the trail were the result of emigrant-Native conflict.
I imagined how I - as a Native - would have felt when thousands upon thousands of emigrants entered Indian territory, and I envisioned the anger and disbelief I would have experienced as treaty after treaty was broken. I also imagined the heartbreak and anger I would have felt when Euro-Americans decimated all of the buffalo herds, effectively ending the Plains Indian way of life.
In this case, as with so many other issues in life, I've learned to take the advice of psychoanalyist Carl Jung, who recommended that we allow ourselves "to be crucified between the opposites, until a reconciling THIRD takes form." That is indeed one of the major tasks of our time.
As I examined the cliff, I found myself filled with mixed emotions. On the one hand, I imagined the excitement and optimism of the 400,000+ emigrants who used the trail to make the 2,200 mile trek from Missouri to Oregon, where they hoped to start a brand new life. I also thought of the 20,000 who died of cholera along the way, and wondered at the fact that the numerous crossings made on the North Platte River would have been quite difficult.
However, I also wondered how the Native Peoples must have felt at seeing a seemingly endless string of travelers entering their lands. The National Park Service movie at Fort Laramie mentions the fact that many of the Oregon Trail travelers were surprised to find - contrary to stories they'd heard - that the Indians were actually quite friendly. The movie makes a point of saying that less than 2% of the deaths occurring along the trail were the result of emigrant-Native conflict.
I imagined how I - as a Native - would have felt when thousands upon thousands of emigrants entered Indian territory, and I envisioned the anger and disbelief I would have experienced as treaty after treaty was broken. I also imagined the heartbreak and anger I would have felt when Euro-Americans decimated all of the buffalo herds, effectively ending the Plains Indian way of life.
In this case, as with so many other issues in life, I've learned to take the advice of psychoanalyist Carl Jung, who recommended that we allow ourselves "to be crucified between the opposites, until a reconciling THIRD takes form." That is indeed one of the major tasks of our time.
Photos: (Top) one of the names on Register Cliff, and (Bottom) Blue Flax and
cliffs along the Oregon Trail, near Fort Laramie, WY; May 18, 2014
