Monumental
People ascribe meaning to many things. A monolithic stone pillar in Wyoming is a place of worship for many Native American tribes. In the Black Hills of South Dakota, the essence of America is represented in the granite portraits of four presidents. In the broad prairies nearby, the icon of the West plods in bison herds. What can we learn from the symbols we chose?
Featured photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/zL87D2kaTTw8VrwQ6
May 28th, 2024 - Dakotas Day 5
I was convinced we had forgotten how to sleep on this trip. Though only a few hours had passed since we had arrived at our hotel in Keystone, we were already trudging back to the car. A pink sunrise was shyly blooming across the wispy clouds. It kissed the cheeks of granite presidents like a schoolgirl’s blush. We sat sleepily on a wall, watching the dignified sun rise over Mount Rushmore. The tourist hotspot was spectacularly quiet. It was just us and the presidents, and they didn’t talk much. Despite our many yawns, I had to admit it. Sunrise at Mount Rushmore was worth it.
Not ones to neglect a hot breakfast, we returned to our Keystone hotel to wait for the breakfast room to open. I’m pretty sure we actually went back to sleep while we waited. At least we got a little more use out of our hotel room! Revived by the food and rest, we were soon back in the car.
The road took us up past Mount Rushmore once again. Turning a corner, we were delighted to catch a glimpse of the marble faces impressed upon the Black Hills. George Washington’s profile cut a resolute shape into the blue sky. Noble granite cliffs rose majestically around his face. Against such beauty, the sculpture just looked wrong. It was unnatural. It didn’t belong.
Tragedy dwells in the dark valleys of the regal mountains. Long before the presidents’ faces were carved, the Black Hills were beloved by the Lakota Sioux. They traveled to the jagged cliffs for ceremonies, practices that defined their identity and being. They relied on the Black Hills for life-giving sustenance. When settlers began moving west, the Lakota undoubtedly grew fearful for their existence. In 1868, their fears were briefly resolved when the Treaty of Fort Laramie promised the Black Hills to the Lakota. Yet, it wasn’t meant to be. Too soon, the glitter of gold caught the eye of white man. Prospectors swarmed the sacred hills, greedily ignorant of the treaty. By 1877, the American government had seized the land. The Lakota Black Hills were gone.
In the 1970s, multiple groups of Native Americans renewed their efforts to protest the broken Treaty of Fort Laramie. In two symbolic efforts, they climbed to the top of Mount Rushmore and occupied the monument. There were arrests, but their point had been made. The government recognized that the treaty had been broken. But what could be done? A national monument had been built at the site. For all their efforts, the Sioux received a governmental shrug. In 1980, the US Supreme Court awarded $105 million to the Sioux Nation as restitution for their loss. The Sioux Nation rejected the money.
One Lakota elder wrote, “The Black Hills is a sacred grandmother to us, filled with sacred power sites. How can one sell a sacred grandmother? …One of my fears is that there is a day coming that the Bureau of Indian Affairs will sit down at a table with the offer and our people will accept the money. At that point, thousands and thousands of years of spiritual significance of the Black Hills will be left to the wayside because the new culture of the new people that have come onto the reservation will see the same meaning in the value of the money.”
In the end, it is just sad. Mount Rushmore was intended to be a signal of America’s greatness. In truth, I think it represents something else entirely.
Mount Rushmore finished construction in 1941. In response to the divisive presidential faces, construction began on the Crazy Horse Memorial in 1948. When Lakota Chief Standing Bear commissioned sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski, he said, “My fellow chiefs and I would like the white man to know that the red man has great heroes, too.” The memorial portrays one of the great Lakota chiefs, Crazy Horse, riding a horse out of the Black Hills. His face is stoic. His arm is outstretched, pointing accusingly at the stolen tribal lands of the Lakota. The magnitude of the sculpture far surpasses Mount Rushmore, and it is amplified by its unfinished state. At the time of our visit, only the face and arm of Crazy Horse had been completed. Progress continues at a speed dictated by funding. Not a cent of government money has ever gone towards the Crazy Horse Memorial. It never will. The Lakota message is clear: no amount of money can ever rectify their experiences. The Lakota make a stand on their own.
We were fortunate to witness a hoop dancing demonstration when we visited the Crazy Horse Memorial. Sisters Starr and Delacina Chief Eagle gracefully twirled at the foot of Crazy Horse, weaving images of animals with their colorful hoops. The coordination and elegance required by hoop dancing is remarkable. While keeping the beat, the sisters added hoops, shaped them, and told visual stories. All the while, the unfinished Crazy Horse sculpture watched resolutely from behind. During one of Delacina’s dances, the racket of three double-prop helicopters shook the ground. Their roaring approach muted the music. They drew our eyes away from the Lakota sisters. The helicopters circled the monument with a sort of arrogant ownership that felt despicable. We were told later that it was likely the President, as politicians are prone to make detours to see the monument from the air. Embarrassed, I stopped gawking at the raucous helicopters to return to the hoop dance. Delacina was still dancing, her chin lifted in dignity. She had not missed a beat.
When we later visited Wind Cave and Custer State Park, we got our first real taste of the prairie. It doesn’t take imagination to understand how people were drawn to the prairie. The wildlife was abundant and majestic. The grasses concealed singing crickets and birds. The hills rolled into stony mountains and crystalline skies. It was so different than anything we’ve seen before. Differently beautiful.
Underneath the grass, I sensed the sorrow of a land lost to those who loved it. According to the Lakota creation myths, Wind Cave is the birthplace of man. From the “breathing earth,” bison and man crawled to the surface. What is Wind Cave now? A place for people to visit. During our visit, we could not descend into the cave as we had hoped. The elevator was closed for repairs. The Lakota believe that Wind Cave holds the portal to the spirit world. Perhaps the spirit world is not meant to be visited. There are some things better left alone.
Starr Chief Eagle: https://www.healingthebrokenhoop.com/
Delacina Chief Eagle: https://womenofthewhitebuffalo.com/cast/4/
A Lakota elder’s views on the Black Hills: https://www.culturalsurvival.org/publications/cultural-survival-quarterly/we-walk-our-ancestors-sacredness-black-hills
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