by Phillip B Gottfredson author Black Hawk's Mission of Peace
The silent victims of the Black Hawk War in Utah are often forgotten. Until recently, I hadn’t really thought about the emotional weight carried by the descendants of those responsible for these injustices. Over the past month, I met and talked with some of them, and what they shared moved me deeply.
With respect, I told the people I met that they could speak freely, that I would respect their privacy, and most importantly, that I would listen. We talked about a lifelong shame tied to their ancestors’ actions. Many said they feared being judged, rejected, or misunderstood if they shared their grief or pain. Hearing from descendants of those involved in the Utah Black Hawk War made me realize how deeply historical trauma can affect families for generations.
I believe it is important to share these stories—not to diminish anyone's suffering, but to better understand the full human impact of the Utah Black Hawk War. A truthful dialogue about the past can create space for accountability, empathy, and healing.
George E. Tinker wrote, "It is time we stop viewing these injustices as simply white processes and begin viewing them as human processes. It is time we apply the same yardstick to both groups--compassionately seeking to understand human actions in the past without flailing old wounds by "unabashedly" taking sides. Without confronting and owning our past, as white Americans, as Europeans, as American Indians, as African Americans, we cannot hope to overcome the past and generate a constructive, healing process, leading to a world of genuine, mutual respect among peoples, communities, and nations." But that "mutual respect" must begin by seeking to understand the history and human motivations of all these "peoples and communities, and nations" with a spirit of equity, balance, and compassion."
Healing does not come from simply acknowledging past wrongs; acknowledgment is only the beginning. This realization led me to think more deeply about the silent victims as well. After listening to their stories, I have no doubt that many carry a sincere desire to express regret to the Timpanogos Nation for the actions of their forefathers.
They spoke about growing up as outcasts in their own communities, burdened by a history they did not create yet were forced to carry. Some shared that they hide their family history from their children to spare them shame, judgment, and social rejection. Yet many of those children eventually learn what their ancestors did, and the cycle of silence, guilt, and isolation begins again.
This is why healing must involve honesty, compassion, and open dialogue for everyone affected by the past. Reconciliation cannot grow in silence or fear. It requires space for difficult truths, for pain to be acknowledged on all sides, and for people to move beyond inherited shame toward shared understanding and humanity.
"Every day," one mother told me, "Not a day goes by that I ask what it was that made my great-grandfather do what he did?"
Reflecting on these difficult conversations, I was reminded of my own background. As a former member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I was taught never to question the authority of church leaders. I was told to live my life according to the church's teachings or risk being castigated out of Mormon culture and society. I was told, 'that's all in the past, we just need to forget about it.' I know they mean well when they say that, but it does little to soothe the pain.
Considering the need for healing on all sides, I ask: who can teach us more about human injustice than those who have lived through it? Who is better equipped to help build bridges between cultures than those who understand firsthand how destructive racism and settler colonialism can be—not only to the oppressed, but to society as a whole? By learning from past mistakes and using that wisdom to guide future generations, we create opportunities for greater understanding, compassion, and peace.
I believe the voices of those who have suffered in silence must be heard. People should feel free to share their experiences openly with their families and communities without fear of censorship or dismissal. These stories are essential to collective healing and to a fuller understanding of our shared history. True reconciliation and meaningful progress can only happen when every voice affected by this history is acknowledged and empowered.
Judging others solely for the actions of their ancestors reflects a closed mindset. Growth comes through humility, empathy, and openness—the willingness to better understand one another and what it means to be human. Mistakes are part of human history, but they do not have to define our future. What matters is our willingness to learn from them, take responsibility where needed, and work together to correct them.
See: Truth In Education
