Indigenous Oil and My Vision for the Future
Roosevelt, UT
2024, Senior, Creative Writing
I’m sitting in the passenger seat of my father’s truck as we drive through the dry backroads of Utah during summer. We’re surrounded by the natural beauty of my ancestor’s homeland: sage and rabbitbrush dot the foothills of the Uintah Mountains. Oil rigs, some dead and some alive, clash with nature as their obnoxious metal poles penetrate the ground. I build up the courage to ask my father a question I’ve had on my mind for a long time. “Why is the Ute tribe a huge supplier for the oil industry when our ancestors practiced taking care of Mother Earth!?”
My father’s lips curl into a frown, and with a deep sigh, he proceeds to explain how, in order for the Ute tribe to provide for its members, the tribe must take advantage of the resources that lay deep within the earth. Finding his statement ironic, I wonder why this type of business is so prevalent in today’s world.
In 1881, the Northern Indian Utes were moved into the Uintah Mountains. Former Governor Frederick Pitkin coined the phrase “The Utes Must Go!” He advocated for their relocation, and the US Army marched them to northeastern Utah, a dry desert deemed uninhabitable for anything, including humans. Little did the colonizers know that they’d moved the Utes onto a jackpot of liquid gold: oil and natural gas reserves scattered throughout the reservation. Oil and gas development began on tribal lands in the 1940s, and the industry became profitable in the 1970s. That led to a significant impact on the tribe’s economy. Today, rigs are found across the reservation, pumping oil from the earth every single minute.
I’m aware that almost everything in our economy relies on oil; however I detest this business as it’s a direct result of the forced relocation of my people, the Utes. This ideology has led to the destruction of our Mother Earth. I’m not afraid to speak up, especially when it comes to topics that affect tribal communities. For the most part, my father does not agree with me when it comes to my stance on tribal oil.
I come from a braided lineage of three Native American tribes that were impacted mightily by colonization: the Wampanoag, Ute, and Hunkpapha Lakota nations. Each tribe connected deeply to the Earth. When I was a child, my mother told me about my Lakota ancestors. They shared and cared for one another, not for reward or personal gain—the belief in community as a top priority is the essence of Oyate (meaning “the people” or “the nation”) culture. It’s our responsibility as Lakota people not to be greedy, but to see all things as equal on this earth and to treat everything with respect.
In the truck with my father, thinking about my tribe’s history, I glance at my reflection in the side-view mirror. My eyes shift to the window, and the landscape blurs. Our voices rise and overlap as every statement’s piercing echo fills the vehicle. A silence falls as the argument dies down. The silence provides solace, and I ponder how all of my people’s tribal lands, cultures, languages, and spiritual practices throughout the US were almost obliterated as a result of mass destruction of the earth for the sake of personal gain and profit.
Deep down, I know that the spirit of my people will not be destroyed. Asking my father—and others—“Why?!” is a step towards decolonization and a return to more indigenous perspectives and ways of living. I understand that despite the damage caused by years of colonization, as well as the intergenerational struggles within indigenous communities, my generation can continue to mend our relationship with the earth and her peoples. My effort to protect the land to support future generations may seem like a small step to some, but my continual advocacy and action on behalf of Mother Earth will leave a critical lasting legacy.
Works Cited
“Frederick W. Pitkin | Archives.” Archives.colorado.gov, archives.colorado.gov/collections/governors/frederick-w-pitkin.
“Meeker Incident | Colorado Encyclopedia.” Coloradoencyclopedia.org, coloradoencyclopedia.org/article/meeker-incident#:~:text=%E2%80%9CThe%20Utes%20Must%20Go. Accessed 10 May 2024.
“Mitákuye Oyás’iŋ.” Tapestry Institute, 12 June 2020, tapestryinstitute.org/mitakuye-oyasin/.
Testimony of the Ute Indian Tribe of the Uintah and Ouray Reservation before the House Committee on Natural Resources Full Committee Oversight Hearing on “Unleashing America’s Energy and Mineral Potential.” 2023.
Reflection
Reflection
Throughout my youth I have always been influenced by the indigenous traditions and stories passed down from generation to generation from my different tribes such as the Aquinnah Wampanoag, Ute Indian Tribe, and Hunkpapa Lakota. Although the oil industry in Utah is far from the ocean, the emissions released still affect the world all around us. While writing this essay I reflected back on my ancestors and the previous generations that have lived before me and how drastically different the earth was. Although change takes time, I believe that my generation can help break barriers and help fix the climate crisis that affects the world all around us. Throughout my time attending Wasatch Academy I have been able to create connections throughout the student body via multiple leadership roles I have upheld such as being the vice president of Wasatch Academy’s student council as well as the president of Sustainability Council. As my generation has been deeply impacted by the Covid-19 pandemic, one of the few ways that we are able to come together as one is through connection in our education, as well as how we give back to our community. Through my leadership I have worked with my school's student body to build the outline of a greenhouse and start the creation of a community garden. The Lakota philosophy Mitakuye Oyasin, which translates to “We are all connected”, teaches that all of us on the earth are connected as one in different ways. Whether plants, humans, or animals, all things are sacred life and should be treated as one.