What’s in a name? Fort Lewis College is asking that question as we speak.
Certainly, names hold importance; they’re part of our identity. For some, names are the testament of their legacy – names like Winston and Cleopatra tell a story. The names of institutions aren’t different. Names like Yale and Princeton call a personality to mind.
But Fort Lewis College wants to change its name. Why?
According to Mitch Davis, FLC’s head of public affairs, the name change has been debated for some time, at least since other regional schools in Colorado have done the same. The options are open, says Davis. The name may change from College to University, or the name may not change at all.
But I’m afraid there’s a darker motive involved in the name change. An invisible oppression long ignored – the eradication of racist American history.
To understand why Fort Lewis bares a militaristic title, let’s go back to a dark time in westward expansion. In today’s La Plata County, the Ute Indians once lived. In 1878, the federal government sent a new Indian agent, Nathan Meeker, a pious teetotaler, to teach the Utes how to farm instead of their traditional hunting practices. Meeker took the job only because he was deeply in debt, and became bent on religious salvation of the Utes.
Meeker’s regular writings to Greeley newspapers became a propaganda tool used by Gov. Frederick Pitkin in his plan to expel the Utes. Gov. Pitkin won his Colorado office under the motto “The Utes Must Go!” Meeker finally begged for soldiers to control the Utes he accused of going on the warpath. He threatened the Utes with war on unauthorized behalf of the United States. Troops were sent to help calm the tensions.
After threatening the Utes once too often, frustrated Utes killed Meeker, as well as ambushed U.S. troops they mistakenly believed were going to attack them. The troops were outnumbered and sent for help from the nearest Colorado outpost – Fort Lewis, manned by Buffalo Soldiers (a nickname for African-American soldiers). The Buffalo Soldiers came quickly, and helped save the troops, losing several men and all of their horses.
Reaction to the “Meeker Massacre” was national panic. A full army was sent to end the uprising. The following year, Congress enacted the Ute Removal Acts, stealing 12 million acres of Ute land and removing Utes innocent of the uprising. In 1881, all Utes were forced to the Utah Territory.
In 1891, Fort Lewis was decommissioned and turned into an Indian boarding school.
As described by the American Indian Relief Council’s website, Indian boarding schools were not pleasant. Pupils were forced to become “civilized,” but weren’t allowed to become part of society. No native speech or art; no “uncivilized” culture was allowed here. These were assimilation schools.
By 1911, Fort Lewis became a liberal arts high school, and Congress stipulated free tuition would be given to Native students. This continues today.
FLC Athletics Director Barney Hinkle recently announced that Nike’s N7, an initiative that supports and encourages Native American sports participation, recognized Fort Lewis. The FLC basketball teams wore the N7 Equality t-shirt before their games played on Nov. 16.
I applaud the recognition of this amazing aspect of FLC. However, it’s not enough.
Fort Lewis has claimed an enrollment crisis. Student numbers and applications are falling, and transfers are rising. So, we’ve changed our accreditation system, added new professional programs and perhaps new graduate programs, but we’ve cut degree programs, staff, perhaps even the liberal arts core.
That’s fine.
What’s not fine is the name change, because changing the name is continuing the racist assimilation of U.S. history. We can control what parts of the story are told, but not the whole story.
To destroy the name is to hide the truth. It’s another way to gloss over the horrid way we obtained the fifty states. To change the name is to forget the tears, racism and death that gave birth to this town and this school. How can we let this happen?
To quote a wise man, “We can deny our heritage and our history, but we cannot escape responsibility for the result.”
Edward R. Murrow was right. We can change the name and hide the racism consistently targeted at Native Americans. We can forget them as our nation often does.
But if we do, are we any better than Pitkin or Meeker?
In everyday life, a name may mean nothing. But in history that involves racism and a questionable legacy, a name means everything.
What will historians think of this change? Nothing good, I assure you.
Avery Martinez is a graduating senior pursuing a Journalism and Multimedia Studies major at Fort Lewis College. He is also the producer of IndyTV, the FLC student newspaper’s television department. Reach him at asmartinez.theindependent@gmail.com
