Burden Of History - The Podcast

Burden of History – Episode 2: Before 1492 – The First Americans

Dr. Rose Season 1 Episode 2

 Welcome back to Burden of History!
If you're new here—welcome. If you're a returning listener, thank you for continuing this journey through the stories that shaped the world we live in.
In today’s episode, we step back in time—before 1492—to honor the lives, cultures, and contributions of the First Americans.
Long before European ships touched the shore, thriving Native nations built powerful civilizations filled with wisdom, resistance, and spiritual depth.
We explore the empires, science, city-building, and oral traditions that existed—and how colonization tried to erase them.
Featuring powerful words from Chief Joseph and Red Jacket, this episode reminds us: history didn’t begin with colonization—it was interrupted by it.
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Welcome back to Burden of History—and if you’re new here, welcome. This podcast is where we bring truth to the surface, even when history tried to bury it.I’m your host, Dr. Rose, and today we’re going back—way back before 1492—to explore the lives and legacies of the First Americans. Before borders, before colonization, Native nations thrived. Their stories weren’t lost—they were silenced. But we’re here to change that.So settle in, and let’s talk about who the First Americans really were.History isn’t just about what was written down. It’s about what was lived, what was erased, and what still echoes.” – Dr. Rose. For generations, we were told the story of America started when Columbus “discovered” it. But how can you discover a place where millions of people already lived, prayed, governed, farmed, traded, and told stories? The truth is, this land was already home to powerful nations with deep histories. Their stories didn’t start in 1492—they go back thousands of years. And today, we’re going to talk about who they were, what they built, and why it still matters.

Before there was a “New World,” there was an old one—rich with tradition, spirit, and resilience. That’s the story we’re telling today. We’re peeling back the myths and digging into what was really here before European boots hit the ground:

empires, science, city-building, spiritual wisdom, and sustainable innovation. We’ll talk about the people, the places, the power — and the reasons we weren’t taught any of it in school. This episode isn’t just about looking back. It’s about reclaiming the timeline. So, take a deep breath. Get ready to unlearn, relearn, and remember. Because, what came before 1492? That’s where the real story begins.

Chapter 1 – Not 'Unclaimed Land':

Indigenous Empires Before 1492.

Let’s begin with a truth that history books have tried very hard to ignore:

North America was not “unclaimed land.” Before Columbus ever packed his bags and misread a map, the continent was already home to thriving, complex, and sovereign civilizations. In other words — the house was fully furnished. And someone was living in it.

Now, the popular myth goes something like this:

when European explorers arrived, they found vast, open wilderness, scattered tribes, and a “virgin land” ready to be tamed. Yeah… no. The truth? This land was already organized, governed, and deeply claimed. From the forests of the Northeast to the deserts of the Southwest, Indigenous nations had governments, agriculture, trade systems, diplomacy, spirituality, and yes — borders.

Let’s put it this way:

If you showed up unannounced in some places, you weren’t just trespassing — you were starting an international incident. We use words like “tribe” a lot when talking about Native people. But many of these societies were more akin to nations. Some even formed federations, confederacies, and alliances — long before Europeans dreamed of a “New World.” Take the Iroquois Confederacy, for example. Known as the Haudenosaunee, this alliance of six nations — the Mohawk, Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, Seneca, and later the Tuscarora — operated with a constitution, a system of checks and balances, and even protocols for diplomacy and war. In fact, some historians argue that elements of the U.S. Constitution were influenced by the Iroquois model. Yet somehow, that never made it into the Schoolhouse Rock episode. And they weren’t alone. The Maya, the Ancestral Puebloans, the Chinook, the Shoshone, the Musogee Creek, and many more had developed systems of leadership, trade, and law that rivaled or exceeded what Europe had at the time. You see, the myth of an “empty continent” wasn’t just wrong — it was strategic. Declaring this land “vacant” gave colonizers a legal and moral excuse to seize it. That idea is what powered the “Doctrine of Discovery” and Manifest Destiny — beliefs that justified conquest, violence, and displacement on the grounds that no one of value was here. But they were here. And they valued the land in a way that many colonizers never would — not as property, but as relationship. Not to be bought and sold, but stewarded and shared.

And here’s the kicker:

when Europeans did finally land, they weren’t stepping onto wild, unclaimed wilderness. They were stepping into someone else’s home — with political systems, spiritual traditions, and land use patterns stretching back thousands of years. Honestly, some of these societies had more structure than a suburban HOA. And probably fewer arguments about mailbox height. Chapter 2 – Cahokia & the Mississippian Powerhouse. Let’s move deeper into this truth. If the Americas were full of civilizations before 1492, then where are the cities? Where are the pyramids? The marketplaces? The monuments?

Well, let me introduce you to one of the most powerful, and least taught, urban centers in American history:

Cahokia. Situated just outside of present-day St. Louis, Cahokia was a massive Indigenous metropolis that, at its peak around 1100 CE, housed more than 20,000 people — making it larger than London at the time. That’s right. While castles were rising in Europe, pyramids were rising in Illinois. Cahokia was the crown jewel of the Mississippian culture, a sophisticated and widespread network of Native nations that stretched from the Great Lakes all the way down to the Gulf of Mexico. Its central feature? Monks Mound — a massive earthen pyramid nearly 100 feet tall and covering 14 acres. That’s bigger than a football field — and it’s still standing today. But this wasn’t just a ceremonial site. It was a city. There were neighborhoods. Temples. Plazas. Elevated homes for elites. Trade zones. Sporting fields. And a cosmological layout aligned with the stars. Some of you might be wondering — why weren’t we taught this?

Because the idea of "advanced" Indigenous civilizations challenges a foundational myth:

that Native Americans were primitive wanderers who needed European guidance.

Spoiler alert:

they didn’t. These communities had complex systems of governance, taxation, religious ceremonies, and even foreign policy. Cahokia was surrounded by satellite towns. It had trade networks that extended to modern-day Florida and the Rockies. Archaeologists have uncovered shells, copper, obsidian, and ceremonial goods that show just how far their influence reached. This wasn’t some backwoods village. Cahokia was New York City before New York had a name. And yet, when we talk about world civilizations in school, we hear about Greece, Rome, Egypt, and Mesopotamia — but rarely, if ever, about Cahokia. Why? Because including it would disrupt the idea that greatness only came after Europeans arrived. Cahokia proves that greatness was already here. Urban development? Check. Engineering? Check. Environmental adaptation? Check. Spiritual worldview tied to astronomy? Absolutely. So next time someone tells you Native Americans lived in huts and teepees, feel free to remind them — they also built pyramids. And they didn’t use slave labor to do it. Cahokia wasn’t perfect. Like all societies, it had inequality, politics, and conflict. But it was a thriving example of what Indigenous excellence looked like — before colonization tried to erase it. So let’s remember Cahokia. __Not as a footnote, but as a headline.

Next up:

we’ll explore the incredible science and environmental wisdom that Native people practiced long before Europeans figured out crop rotation.

___Chapter 3 – Native Science:

Farming, Innovation, and Ecosystems Let’s step into the part of the story that has been the most underestimated — Native science. And yes, "I said science". The idea that Indigenous people were just living off the land in some kind of eternal camping trip? Completely false. They weren’t just surviving — they were engineering ecosystems.

Let’s talk agriculture. Before we dive into crops, let’s clear something up:

agriculture wasn’t just a survival tool. It was a cultural and spiritual expression. Indigenous communities planted not only for food — but in honor of ancestors, in harmony with celestial events, and in gratitude to the earth.Farming wasn’t seasonal labor — it was a sacred dialogue with nature. Long before Europeans figured out crop rotation, Indigenous people had already developed farming systems that were diverse, sustainable, and regionally adapted. One of the most brilliant systems? The Three Sisters — corn, beans, and squash — grown together in a way that not only maximized nutrients in the soil but also maximized yield. Corn provides a stalk for the beans to climb. Beans fix nitrogen in the soil. Squash shades the ground to prevent weeds. It’s teamwork. It’s symbiosis. It’s science. And let’s be honest, it’s a better group project than most of us have ever experienced. In fact, modern sustainable farming models are now looking back at these ancient Indigenous practices for guidance. Scholars call this agroecology, but Native communities would just call it common sense. They weren’t working against the land. They were collaborating with it. But it didn’t stop there. Native communities genetically modified plants — yes, actual domestication and selective breeding — to increase hardiness, yield, taste, and medicinal properties. From maize to sunflowers, they transformed wild plants into powerhouse crops. Let’s not forget water management. Indigenous peoples in the Southwest, like the Hohokam, built elaborate canal systems — some stretching for miles — to irrigate desert farmlands with precision. They didn’t just take from nature — they studied it, learned from it, and designed alongside it. And this relationship wasn’t just functional — it was sacred. Land was not property. It was a living being. A teacher. A relative. And their agricultural practices reflected this — harvesting in rhythm with the moon, letting the soil rest, giving thanks before every meal.

Contrast that with what came next:

monoculture, overgrazing, environmental exploitation. The colonizers came with plows. The Natives came with balance. And it wasn’t just plants — it was entire ecosystems. The Plains tribes, for example, didn’t just hunt bison. They helped manage their migration patterns using controlled burns, which promoted new grass growth, which in turn fed the herds. It was an intentional cycle. Think of it this way — where Europeans saw “wild nature,” Native people saw a living network of relationships.

So the next time someone calls Indigenous knowledge “primitive,” you can remind them:

Native people were practicing sustainability, environmental engineering, and community-based science hundreds of years before the Enlightenment. They didn’t just live with the land. They studied it, shaped it, and respected it. And honestly, it might be time we took a few notes.

Chapter 4 – Oral Libraries:

How Indigenous People Passed Down History. Let’s talk about memory. Not the kind you back up on a hard drive, but the kind you carry in your bones. For Indigenous people, storytelling wasn’t entertainment — it was a sacred form of preservation. In the absence of books, scrolls, and parchment, Native nations passed down their histories, values, cosmologies, and governance through oral tradition — a deeply disciplined, highly structured system of knowledge transfer. And get this — some Indigenous languages are so rich and layered that a single word could carry the weight of an entire experience. Imagine describing the wind, a prayer, and the mood of the day — all in one phrase. That’s the depth of what was passed on orally. Not just facts, but feeling. Imagine elders who could recite hundreds of years of genealogy, migration stories, rituals, harvest cycles, and moral teachings — not with notes, but with intention, rhythm, and community validation. In the Cherokee tradition, stories explained the origin of the mountains. In the Lakota tradition, star maps weren’t just metaphors — they were literal navigation tools. For the Navajo, oral chants and origin stories weren’t just recited — they were sung, danced, and lived. This wasn’t bedtime storytelling. - It was a living library, open to those who listened with care and passed it forward. So "why does this matter?" Because when colonizers came, they weren’t just conquering land. They were targeting memory systems — trying to erase the way Indigenous people remembered themselves.

Boarding schools punished Native children for speaking their language. Missionaries outlawed traditional dances and ceremonies. Oral knowledge was dismissed as superstition — even though it preserved history with more consistency than many written records. Ask any oral historian — the memory of a people is a form of resistance.And that’s exactly what oral tradition became: a form of cultural survival.Even in silence, stories survived.Told in kitchens. -Whispered on porches. -Hidden in lullabies.And now, those stories are rising again. Revived in film, poetry, theater, language schools, and powwows. Not just as art — but as evidence. As lineage. As truth.So when someone asks why there aren’t more “written records” of Indigenous history — remind them:

some truths were carried in the soul, not on paper. And they survived centuries of erasure without a single ISBN number. Today, universities are finally catching up — inviting elders to speak, hiring Native historians, and digitizing oral traditions. What was once dismissed as “unreliable memory” is now being archived by institutions. But let’s be clear — these stories were never forgotten. They were just waiting to be heard.

Next up:

Chapter 5 — the systems that tried to erase it all… and the Native voices who said, "Not today."

CHAPTER 5:

Erasure, Survival, and the Return of Indigenous Knowledge Let’s talk about what was lost — and what refused to be forgotten. When colonizers came to the Americas, they didn’t just take the land. They took the languages, the stories, the children, the ceremonial grounds, the medicines, and the names. They renamed rivers. Burned sacred texts. Dug up burial mounds. Outlawed ceremonies. Banned languages. And created a system of erasure so deep and so strategic that generations grew up never knowing their full names, their tribal affiliations, or their ancestors’ stories. The goal wasn’t just conquest. It was cultural annihilation — the complete destruction of identity. And yet… here we are.

Because Indigenous people did more than survive. They rebuilt. They remembered. They resisted. Through whispered language lessons taught by grandparents. Through beadwork patterns passed from mother to daughter. Through oral histories kept alive in kitchens and community centers. In the 20th and 21st centuries, we’ve seen a powerful resurgence:

Native language immersion schools. Powwows that reclaim traditional dances. Legal efforts to repatriate sacred items and ancestral remains. Native-led museums and cultural centers Youth returning to their roots, learning the names their great-grandparents were forced to forget. Imagine reclaiming your name after four generations of silence. Imagine tasting a traditional dish for the first time because your ancestors had to hide their recipes. This isn’t just cultural revival. It’s emotional resurrection. It’s the return of identity — wrapped in language, food, ceremony, and pride. "This isn’t nostalgia". "It’s reclamation". We’re witnessing Native nations not just recover what was stolen but breathe new life into it. Native authors are on bestseller lists. Native scientists are leading environmental projects. Native activists are fighting pipelines, restoring land rights, and speaking truth to power in courtrooms, classrooms, and on global stages. And yes, Native podcasters and content creators — just like this one — are telling stories that were almost erased. Because history isn’t just in the past. "It's alive"! It’s teaching us. And if we listen to Indigenous voices — not as guests in the story but as rightful narrators — we don’t just repair the timeline.

We begin to heal. Because healing isn’t a one-time event. It’s a season. A song. A series of choices made every day to remember — and to keep remembering. And maybe the most radical act we can do right now... is to tell the truth. So let this be your reminder:

the burden of history is heavy. But it’s lighter when we carry it together. “Before we close this episode, I want to leave you with the voices of those who came before us. Voices that spoke truth, pain, resistance, and hope — sometimes with fire, sometimes with a whisper. These are the words of Indigenous leaders who carried the burden of history… in their hearts.”“Listen closely. Because what they said then still speaks to us now.” Chief Joseph of the Nez PerceSurrender Speech, October 5th, 1877“Tell General Howard I know his heart. What he told me before, I have it in my heart. I am tired of fighting. Our chiefs are killed. Looking Glass is dead, Toohulhulsote is dead. The old men are all dead. It is the young men who say yes or no. He who led the young men is dead.It is cold, and we have no blankets. The little children are freezing to death. My people—some of them—have run away to the hills, and have no blankets, no food. No one knows where they are—perhaps freezing to death.I want to have time to look for my children, and see how many I can find. Maybe I shall find them among the dead.Hear me, my chiefs! I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever.”

SPEECH 2:

Red Jacket of the Seneca NationResponse to a missionary, 1805“We do not wish to destroy your religion or take it from you. We only want to enjoy our own.You have your religion, and we have ours. It was given to us, and we wish to keep it.The Great Spirit made us both, but He gave us different understandings.We do not want to destroy your faith — just do not ask us to give up ours.” This concludes Episode 2. Thank you for listening. And thank you for remembering. So now what? We remember. We tell the truth. America didn’t begin in 1492. It began in the heartbeat of Indigenous nations — in every song, seed, and story they carried. That’s the burden — and the beauty — of historyThank you for listening to Burden of History.If this episode moved you—or taught you something new—please share it with someone. The truth deserves to be heard, and your support helps us keep telling it.You can also support the podcast by making a donation or spreading the word on social media. Every little bit helps us reach more people and uncover more hidden stories.🎧 And if you haven’t already, hit that follow button so you never miss a new episode. AUTHOR’S NOTE. This episode was created with deep reverence for Native co

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