There are people who fear telling children difficult truths about history. I suppose that such intentions are well meaning and I can’t speak for everyone, but my own experience has been appreciating honesty from my elders. I suppose that is because my father and my grandfather were always quite open with me. They had a way of informing me of our nation’s troubles without making me feel personally responsible. I always appreciated that they did not hide the flaws from me, but discussed them in ways that even a child might understand. Their honesty actually made me feel more empathetic and determined to understand people who have suffered.
My grandfather in particular often spoke of the profound poverty of many American families during what he called the Cleveland Panic at the end of the nineteenth century. He related how an army of unemployed and impoverished people came through his town on their way to Washington to protest their situations. This group became known as “Coxey’s Army.” Grandpa spoke of their plight and reinforced the gravity of the situation by speaking of people that he knew who were starving. He often noted that this era of economic turmoil was even worse that what came to be known as the Great Depression in the twentieth century.
My grandfather also recounted tales of his time in Oklahoma before and after it had become a state. A frequent theme of his stories involved the mistreatment of the members of the Osage Indian tribe that he witnessed. It was fascinating and disheartening to hear how white people had stolen from the Native Americans and treated them as though they were inferior and lacking in intelligence. Grandpa said that he saw white men trading car batteries for land among other egregious things. He related his disgust over and over again as though he wanted to be certain that I would be privy to truths about the mistreatment of the original inhabitants of this nation.
When I heard that Martin Scorsese had directed a movie that featured a story about murder and theft against members of the Osage Indian tribe in Oklahoma I knew that I had to see the film. Killers of the Flower Moon is based on a book of the same name. Members of the Osage tribe were placed on a reservation in Oklahoma on land that was considered to be the worst part of the state. Then oil was discovered making the Osage people who lived there the wealthiest people in the nation per capita because the treaty agreement had promised them the mineral rights. Unfortunately the Osage people were under the jurisdiction of white guardians who doled out their income and often took cuts for themselves as fees for their services. Eventually there were a series of unexplained deaths among the newly wealthy Osage people.
I won’t go into details about the story because I think that the film is a masterpiece that is a must see for everyone. Martin Scorsese has created a movie that will be viewed for the ages. His reverence for the Osage people is apparent in every minute of the over three hour story. The actors, Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert DiNero, and Lily Gladstone give Oscar worthy performances. The script is intense and heartbreaking. Every American should see this film so that they might realize the extent to which we all too often mistreated and misunderstood those whose ancestors roamed this land long before the first settlers came from Europe. It is an important and eye opening story even for someone like me who had already heard of such mistreatment of the Osage people from my Grandfather.
What is most beautiful about the movie is that the Osage nation is treated with great respect by Martin Scorsese. He used only Native Americans for the roles of Osage people. He did not ask them to speak any differently that they actually do. He portrayed them as the beautiful, compassionate and intelligent people that they were and continue to be.
The conclusion of the film included a ceremony of the Osage tribe that brought me to tears. As a child of five years old I lived in Oklahoma for a brief time while my father worked there. One evening he took us to see a similar ceremony telling us what a privilege it was to see such a thing. I have never forgotten the beauty of the ritual. It was absolutely stunning. Seeing it again on the big screen brought back the child in me who had been so enchanted by the sheer majesty of the ceremony. I found myself sobbing for the cruelty that these beautiful people have endured as I viewed their beauty in the theater. I understood why my father and grandfather had tried to educate me even when I was quite young.
Learning difficult truths is indeed very sad, but I believe that it is necessary. The history of the world is littered with tragedies inflicted by one group of people on others. Knowing about such things helps us to recognize wrongs when we see them. Admitting that we humans or Americans do not always get things right makes us better people. We can evolve into more just behavior only if we are honest. Children are not harmed by truth.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 