The Tradition of Disrespect for Native Americans

We saw a shocking example of it this weekend in Washington, DC, but that disrespect goes far, far deeper than the insolence of a bunch of Catholic teenagers who were in DC to fight against women's rights to control their own reproductive lives. Even those who take pride in "helping" Native Americans also show their disrespect, in much more subtle ways. Here's a story from my own youth in 1962, when I was just 16 years old, like that smart-ass boy in the viral videos:



Our Church's Mission Trip to Tuba City, AZ

During the summer of 1962, my home town church invited the teenagers who attended to participate in a "Mission Trip" to Tuba City, AZ, on the Navajo reservation surrounding that place. About 20 of us signed up to go and do "Mission work" there. Accompanied by four adults, we paid $100 each to cover the cost of the week-long trip. We were told that we would be helping the impoverished Navajo people in that remote location.

So, we boarded a bus for the 10-hour drive from our small California town, all full of expectations and good will. The bus smelled strongly of "teen spirit" by the time the journey was over, since the bus had no air conditioning. We were ready to do good and help people we didn't know.

When we got there, we discovered that what we would be doing was painting a school building, inside and out. The photo above is that building now, which is now no longer in use and is dilapidated and has been replaced by more modern buildings. Anyhow, I noticed that the building had no furniture in it when we arrived and looked as though it had been painted and repainted dozens of times.

Still, we fell to our work and slathered the building, inside and out with paint, some of which is doubtless still on or in that building, probably covered my many more layers. But, here's the kicker in the whole story:

The entire week we were there, we saw not one Native American. We met no Navajo elder who could tell us about Navajo culture, history, or anything else. Either none were invited to help us understand that culture or there was no interest in such an understanding. We had no lectures about any of that. We painted the school building for a week, got on the bus again, and returned to our homes, hot and tired, but without having learned anything at all about the people we were "helping."

So, what was the point of that "Mission trip?" On the long ride back from it, I realized that there was really no point to it. The building did not need yet another coat of paint. I doubt that it was even in use by the Navajo community any longer. The point, in the end, was to make us feel like we had "done something good." The point was to make us feel as though we had helped. The point was to give us a false sense of pride in having done something for people we never even met.

The entire thing was a complete waste of time. We learned nothing from it. The people who lived in that area allowed such "Mission work" to take place for some reason or another. Our "Mission work" benefited nobody, not even ourselves, since it was hollow and without a reason for being done. We learned nothing. We accomplished nothing. The entire effort was really disrespectful of the people we were pretending to help.

Every year, many such "Mission trips" take place. In many cases, they are as useless and pointless as that one in 1962. We might have learned something about Navajo culture, but didn't. We might have done something that was needed, but we didn't. Nobody gained anything from that trip.

In the end, I thought about that trip a lot. It was part of my journey to atheism. I still wonder what the adults at that church though the point of that journey was. It made no sense. We learned nothing, except about futility, as far as I could and can see. What a waste!