I feel cheated because my grandmother was cheated and her heirs were cheated and cowed by the very lack of information, by the lack of answers when questions were asked, cowed into believing we had little or no right to ask about our interest in her allotment. This is one of reasons I opted out: I still don’t know what resources are on the allotments (there are 3) that I have interests in. To say on quarterly statement, which have miraculously appeared in recent years, that the land is leased for “business purpose” or “agriculture” tells me very little. The point is, these leased lands are the source of the trust accounts that are the subject of Cobell and I still don’t know enough about the value of my interests to make an informed decision about whether to agree to settle.
I do know that I continue to feel cheated. My family has never benefited in any meaningful way from our allotments. Now some 110 years later, I have the offer of another paltry piece of paper with a few small numbers typed on it. What am I supposed to do with $500? What would you do? What would you do if you didn’t feel so powerless and like you deserved at least something, even if it is this silly amount called a “settlement”? My daughter pointed out the plain reality, “There are poor people who would gladly take $500, a month’s worth of fuel oil [in a cold North Dakota winter], or a couple of week’s groceries in exchange for a piece of land they will never see and have no money to ever see.”
The fact is, the settlement will make no real difference in the lives of most account holders and can hardly be considered justice in any real sense of the word. It is just a way to put an ugly chapter in American history to rest for the perpetrators, while conveniently ignoring that it is largely a meaningless act for most Indians.
It is not a meaningless exercise, however, for those few who stand to reap large benefits despite the very fact that the suit failed in it essential mission: most trust account holders still don’t know any more about how our lands were mismanaged. Even after 12 years of litigation and hundreds of millions of dollars spent, we still don’t know. But when the few get their big money, the rest are expected to walk away happy with the equivalent of a peanut.
I am not complaining about the named plaintiffs or lawyers in this case. They undertook a noble and heroic mission, though it proved impossible. They went forward, I believe in good faith, with the vision and strength of the best warriors of any Indian nation. They did what they could, but like Red Bear, like Chief Joseph, like Sitting Bull, like Geronimo, like Black Hawk, like Red Cloud, like Louis Riel, like Ira Hayes, like so many good warriors (men and women) trying to make a living and a life on our reservations and from our allotments, it wasn’t enough, it is not enough. They could not turn the tide of history or turn aside the bands of thieves wanting to hand Indians trinkets for their eternal treasures. Still, I honor them, although I can’t help begrudge the real money they will get. And I can’t help but wonder if the large amounts didn’t entice them to “opt in” for all of us.
But again, that is not why I opted out. With the Cobell settlement, I feel like I am standing between “eternity” and a hard place. Some things you just have to hold on to no matter what. Five hundred dollars, on the other hand, is meant to be let go of. Like my grandfather waiting for his allotment, I will likely die waiting to know the truth, but better to wait than to give up on what is right.
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