the railroad and the schools
It’s 1862, and the United States Department of War has just recently completed its Pacific Railroad Surveys—a study that explored possible routes for what would become the First Transcontinental Railroad, aka the Pacific Railroad.
After deliberating over the surveys, the US Congress approved the railroad construction that would connect the east and west coasts. It was a seemingly grand idea with many economic and political benefits, except that the land on which the railroad would be built wasn’t actually owned by the US.
The land belonged to the Native Americans, who fought for their lands and lost.
Thirty years later, at the 1892 Republican National Convention in Minnesota, a so-called Captain, Richard H. Pratt, is being praised for his work in subduing parts of the Native American population.
Pratt is one of the pioneers of the Native American boarding schools—educational institutions established and run by Christian missionaries to teach Native Americans about Euro-American culture while suppressing their knowledge of Native American culture.
In his speech at the convention, Pratt says, “A great general has said that the only good Indian is a dead one…In a sense, I agree with the sentiment, but only in this: that all the Indian there is in the race should be dead. Kill the Indian in him, and save the man.”
While Pratt is making this speech, the Canadian Parliament in Ottawa begins considering amendments to the Indian Act.
Two years later, they confirmed the amendments, which made it mandatory for all Indigenous children between the ages of seven and 16 to enroll in the Canadian Indian Residential School System—Canadian educational institutions inspired by, and similar to, the Native American boarding schools.
For more than a century, in both countries, young Native Americans and Indigenous people were forcibly taken from their parents, enrolled in these schools, mistreated, and sometimes murdered.
The railroad stole their lands, and the schools stole their identity.
And in many ways, this was a fulfillment of Pratt’s vision.
Like many European settlers in North America, Pratt truly believed his vision was noble and justified. Like many people with strong ideologies, including the religious kinds, he believed that he had a monopoly on the truth.
Like many proponents of subtle or overt ostracism, who refuse to consider the humanity of those across the aisle, his words and actions led to the destruction of more lives than he could ever imagine.
But this letter isn’t about Pratt; it’s about the lives he destroyed and those still being marginalized by individuals and governments with similar beliefs. It’s a reminder that more than a century later, yes, especially now, we must be mindful of how our words and actions impact the lives of those around us.