Rob Wetherington, Visual Artist, Class of 2011.
As we approached the capitol building in Helena, Montana I couldn’t help but notice how the building popped out against the huge and expansive sky. From a certain angle it appears that we were approaching a building floating in the heavens. Well, most of the time we’ve spent here in Montana has felt like a walk in the clouds. The air has been crisp and the views have been stunning. I’ve studied reservations in history class along with the idea of manifest destiny, but now it all feels real. I don’t know if you knew this, but there really are amber waves of grain and purple mountains majesty –no wonder a song was written about them. The flip side of this involves an understanding of why this place has been considered sacred and holy among American Indians and why settlers showed up to steal it.
I don’t know if you’re like me, but I’m going to go ahead and assume you have an idea of what I’m talking about. When I found out there was a trip to Montana I said, “Yeah, dude, I’m down.” It wasn’t until yesterday when I was in the Holter Gallery viewing maps in the artwork of Corwin “Corky” Clairmont in Helena, MT that I realized where the heck I was. We’re close to Idaho, you know, the one with potatoes that has a border resembling a face… we’re real close to the other side of the face. And, if we went further north we could get to Washington and Oregon fairly easily. Now you know where we are.
We landed in Billings, Montana some time on Monday. I know we’re two hours behind Eastern Standard Time, but it’s been kind of trippy getting used to waking up, walking, meeting, talking, riding, and sleeping. Most mornings have been fairly surreal while my internal clock has been adjusting. Maybe when I get back to Philly I’ll be able to wake up before 9am because of this newfound skill. I’m not sure what I’d do with my two extra hours, but I’m pretty sure it’d open my schedule up for more naps.
There has been a lot of riding here in the Big Sky Country. Things that are “close” tend to be about an hour or more away. Right now I’m jamming to Jimmy Ruffin and writing this update while Dr. Corbitt drives and Rebekah Wilcox coordinates another something or another. I’m amazed by the amount of work that has gone into getting a ragtag bunch of ragamuffins into Montana. Once arriving in Billings, MT on Monday we were met by a great guy named Berris Samples. He opened his
home to us after giving tour of Little Bighorn National Park. You know, the place where General Custard made his last stand against a group of American Indian tribes, which happens to have been the largest group of Indians in one place at one time. He lost. Come on, you remember the story!
Looking out at the expansive battlefield and at the markers where the soldiers fell I thought to myself, “What about the Indian warriors. Where did they fall?” Near the Native American Memorial at the park there were two markers commemorating Cheyenne warriors. The juxtaposition between these markers and the bright white ones for U.S. soldiers sum up a lot of the conflict between the two groups.
Picture with me one of the most beautiful sights on earth. Fields running on forever made up of gold and green rolling hills. In the background are mountains all around and for a moment you wonder if there is anyway they could be as soft as they appear. As you take in this magnificent scenery white markers pepper the ground showing where U.S. soldiers fell in battle. White markers that visually scream, “Look at me and remember I existed.”
As you walk around and make your way to the American Indian Memorial you catch something shiny out the corner of your eye. 
Down to the right next to the path are two brown granite markers. Two brown markers acknowledging the spot two warriors fell in the battle of Little Bighorn. Believe me when I say they don’t scream. Instead, they seem to whisper, “We were. One day you will have been.”
Back in the van we discussed the visual significance of the round Native American memorial and the oblique U.S. monument. We could get into the meaning of these two symbols, but instead let’s acknowledge that they are opposites. One monument reaching out of the earth demanding recognition while the other blends into the landscape. They represent two cultures that clashed and will continue to clash until bridges of understanding are built. The collaboration between BuildaBridge and the Salish Kootenai Tribal council is encouraging. There is no way we can correct the wrongs of the past, but we can be a part of ensuring a positive partnership in the future. There is hope for something that isn’t simply different, but for something significantly better.
