The Mountain We Celebrate… and the Story We Often Leave Out
A few days ago, millions of Americans celebrated Independence Day. Television cameras once again swept across Mount Rushmore—the familiar faces of Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt, and Lincoln carved into the granite of South Dakota’s Black Hills.
It’s an iconic American image.
But there’s another story written into those same mountains that many of us were never taught.
In 1868, following years of conflict, the United States signed the Treaty of Fort Laramie with the Sioux Nation. The treaty recognized the Black Hills as part of the Great Sioux Reservation and guaranteed the land for the “absolute and undisturbed use and occupation” of the Lakota and other Sioux peoples.
Then gold was discovered.
In 1874, Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer led an expedition into the Black Hills. His reports confirmed what prospectors hoped—that the hills held valuable gold deposits. Almost overnight, miners poured into territory that the federal government had promised belonged to the Sioux.
Rather than enforce its own treaty and remove the trespassers, the United States changed course.
The tensions escalated into what became known as the Great Sioux War. In June of 1876, Lakota, Northern Cheyenne, and Arapaho warriors defeated Custer and the 7th Cavalry at the Battle of the Little Bighorn—often remembered as “Custer’s Last Stand.”
The military victory was short-lived.
Within a year, Congress forced the Sioux to surrender the Black Hills, despite the protections guaranteed by treaty.
Decades later, the highest court in the land acknowledged what had happened.
In 1980, the United States Supreme Court ruled that the Black Hills had been taken illegally and that the government had violated the 1868 treaty. The Court awarded financial compensation to the Sioux Nation.
The tribes refused the money.
Not because it wasn’t substantial—it has grown with interest into well over a billion dollars—but because, for many tribal members, the issue has never been about money.
It has always been about the land.
Today, the Black Hills remain sacred to the Lakota people.
And just seventeen miles from Mount Rushmore stands another mountain telling a very different story.
The Crazy Horse Memorial honors the legendary Oglala Lakota leader Crazy Horse, who fought to protect his people’s homeland. Begun in 1948 by sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski at the invitation of Lakota elder Henry Standing Bear, it is intended to become the largest mountain carving in the world.
When completed, the monument will dwarf Mount Rushmore. Crazy Horse will be depicted riding his horse and pointing toward the horizon in response to the question, “Where are your lands?” His answer: “My lands are where my dead lie buried.”
More than seventy-five years after work began, the monument remains unfinished. The face was dedicated in 1998, and work continues on the horse’s head, arm, and hand. There is no projected completion date. The memorial receives no federal funding and is built entirely through admissions, donations, and private support.
Even the memorial itself reflects complexity. Some Lakota people embrace it as a tribute to one of their greatest leaders. Others believe no mountain—especially one considered sacred—should be carved at all.
History is rarely simple.
As Americans, we can celebrate our country while also telling the whole story. Patriotism doesn’t require forgetting. In fact, I would argue that loving a nation means being willing to learn from its triumphs and its failures alike.
The Black Hills remind us that promises matter. Treaties matter. And the people whose stories were pushed aside deserve to be remembered alongside the monuments we proudly photograph.
Sometimes the most patriotic thing we can do is make room for the history we weren’t taught.
Thank you, as always, for spending a few minutes of your week with me. I never take your time for granted.
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Until next time,
Julie Bolejack, MBA
The Mindful Activist
Julies-journal.ghost.io
