Discovering Charles Sams: How Indian Education Shaped His Journey – High Country News

“Grandson, let’s talk about this rock,” said Charles Sams I, as he pulled a stone from the sparkling waters of Iskuulpa Creek. He sat on the bank, watching the water flow between hills covered in grass and pine trees. The stone in his hand had been smoothed over time by the river’s journey through the high desert.

“How do you think this rock was formed?” he asked, taking his time with each word. “What makes a rock move in water?” He wondered aloud who might have come across the rock and noticed a tiny periwinkle attached to its side. “Has this rock ever been in a dry place?”

His grandson, Charles “Chuck” Sams III, listened closely. “I was learning math, science, and history,” he recalled. Chuck explained that Native education differs from Western education. In Western schools, there’s a broad introduction to subjects like math and science, followed by deep specialization later on. In contrast, Native education starts with specific knowledge and builds out to a wider understanding of the world.

Charles I had firsthand experience of both education systems. As a child, he attended a Catholic boarding school on the Umatilla Indian Reservation. Later, he traveled over 200 miles by train to Chemawa Indian School in Salem when he was a teenager. He remembered his grandfather saying he wasn’t taken by an Indian agent but willingly sent off to school. However, he witnessed the damage these schools did to Native culture, including the loss of language and abuse of children.

Sams noted that many of his relatives experienced the same fate in boarding schools across the country, like Carlisle Indian Industrial School in Pennsylvania. These institutions stripped away Indigenous education and forced conformity to Western culture, which he described as cultural genocide. His family often discussed these experiences, but they emphasized the importance of being educated by family rather than the government. So, Chuck and his cousins attended public schools instead.

After high school, Chuck served four years as a Navy intelligence officer and earned a business degree from Concordia University in Portland. He later received a master’s in Indian law. While he valued his formal education, he also cherished the teachings from his grandparents.

As a teenager, Charles I hatched a plan to escape Chemawa. With the help of his older brother, he smuggled younger boys onto trains to bring them home to the Umatilla Indian Reservation. They camped by Iskuulpa Creek, where he told the boys to hide while they ate the deer he had killed. He ultimately turned himself in, fully aware that he would face punishment but wanting to help those boys return to their families.

Later, a new girl named Ruby Whitright arrived at Chemawa. She had been taken by the Bureau of Indian Affairs due to her father’s activism against a government dam project. Ruby found some comfort at Chemawa, receiving meals and an education, but she still missed home. Here, she met Charles I, who later became her husband.

In December 2021, Chuck’s career took a significant turn when he became the first Indigenous director of the National Park Service. He took his oath of office with Interior Secretary Deb Haaland, who urged him to focus on storytelling. “We must be fierce in our storytelling,” he recalled her saying.

During his tenure, Chuck prioritized education about the contributions of various communities to U.S. history. He emphasized the importance of recognizing the stories of those affected by Indian boarding schools and worked to expand the understanding of Indigenous histories within the park system.

Chuck collaborated with Secretary Haaland to establish the Carlisle Indian Boarding School as a national monument, shedding light on its painful legacy within Native communities. He believed that acknowledging this troubled past was a crucial step toward healing and honoring tribal sovereignty.

Throughout his time leading the National Park Service, Chuck advocated for more partnerships between the federal government and tribal nations. By the time he left, the number of parks co-managed by Indigenous tribes had significantly increased, reflecting a commitment to stewardship and collaboration.

After attending Chemawa, Ruby lived among Chuck’s people, the Cayuse and Walla Walla. They raised their family in Umatilla country, near Iskuulpa Creek. Though they didn’t live to see their grandson’s achievements, Chuck carries their stories and lessons with him. The rock remains a cherished reminder, held tightly in his medicine pouch. When traveling, it often raises eyebrows at security, but he simply explains it as a religious token, receiving respect in return.

As Chuck reflects on his education, he knows the teachings from his ancestors have shaped his understanding of humanity, the environment, and interconnectedness. Their lessons remind him of the importance of nature, community, and the power of stories.