I spent some time this summer visiting my parents in Taos, NM, and while doing all the touristy things there, I couldn’t help but encounter stories of the history of the place that truly made me think. It is strange being at places in America where our own sordid history has not been completely hushed up. In most of the country it is easy to forget who we stole the land from, who we enslaved to build initial infrastructure, and who we oppressed on our path to becoming a “great” nation. If those reminders aren’t there before our eyes, we tend to forget they ever happened (and then get accused of being unpatriotic or of outright lying if you even mention the history). But it’s hard to hide from that history in New Mexico — at least once you make even a vague attempt to open your eyes.
For instance — I attended the Emergent Gathering in Glorieta, NM a couple of times in the past. While I had heard that Glorieta was the site of a major Civil War battle, often called the Gettysburg of the West, I knew little else of its history or culture except for the fact that the Southern Baptists had built a camp there that did its best to pretend New Mexican culture didn’t exist. But during this trip, I discovered that it was at the opening of the Glorieta Pass on the Santa Fe Trail that the Mexican army made its last stand against the invading U.S. army in 1846. You see, for years U.S. citizens had been settling in Texas (often for the freedom to trade slaves). In 1836, these U.S. Texans declared Texas an independent country and went to war with the current ruler – Mexico. After remembering the Alamo and all that, the Republic of Texas formed. When the U.S. then annexed Texas in 1846 (which at that point included most of New Mexico), Mexico chose not to simply give up the land and leave. This was seen as cause for war and the U.S. invaded to secure the land we stole. General opinion saw it as our right to take the land, with some calling it “Our manifest destiny to overspread the continent allotted by Providence for the free development of our yearly multiplying millions.” A small group of dissenters called this invasion robbery and murder, and Abraham Lincoln asserted “Let us put a check upon this lust of dominion.” But their protest was to no avail. And so the U.S. army met and massacred the Mexican army at Glorieta — claiming the territory for ourselves. It puts things in perspective to know the history of the place — knowing who died so we could use a spiffy retreat center.
Same thing in Taos. One of the oldest continuously lived-in pueblos in America is the Taos Pueblo. In 1847, after the U.S. took New Mexico, local Indians and Hispanics were fearful that the U.S. wouldn’t honor their ownership of the land and so staged a rebellion against the U.S. governor in Taos. The governor ended up dead and the U.S. Army moved quickly to quash the revolt. (The Indians actually claim that they had nothing to do with the murder, that the Mexicans set them up). As the U.S. army attacked, many of the pueblo’s residents (the women and children), as well as some of the insurgents, took refugee in the Catholic church on the pueblo to seek its protection and sanctuary. The U.S. army burned them alive inside the church. The picture is of the remains of the church that has simply been left in ruins since that day.
I hear those stories and know that even though I am enjoying the benefits of past oppression, I have to at least acknowledge that great evil has been done. But I overheard others touring the Taos Pueblo who were offended that the Indians dare tell the story of how the U.S. army massacred their people. They thought it was rude and uncalled for to even bring up such stories. I found it interesting that here I had no choice but to confront the sins of our collective past, and others around me were trying to silence history. But then I thought, at least they were hearing the stories — whether they choose to believe them or not. That’s why I am a huge fan of going to places where that history is in your face. No, it’s not fun to visit the site of a massacre, or of a firebombing, or the Holocaust Museum, but unless we make that effort, we too soon forget that they exist. And from there we quickly start pretending that the evils they remind us of never happened. We need those reminders.
Julie Clawson is the author of Everyday Justice: The Global Impact of Our Daily Choices
