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Episode 3: Early Encounters — Indigenous Peoples and European Colonizers

• Dr. Rose • Season 1 • Episode 3

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Episode 3: Early Encounters — Indigenous Peoples and European Colonizers
Before 1619. Before slavery reached American soil. There were Native nations—sovereign, spiritual, and thriving.

In this episode, we trace the earliest encounters between Indigenous peoples and European settlers. From the generosity of the Taino to the betrayal of Metacom, we explore what happened when strangers arrived with crosses, contracts, and conquest.

We’ll break down the Doctrine of Discovery, dissect the trap of colonial treaties, and spotlight the resistance movements that history tried to forget.

✨ This is not a story of discovery. It’s a story of survival.
 🎧 If you're ready to confront the truth and honor the voices erased from textbooks, press play.

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Long before the auction blocks, before the whips and plantations—there were kingdoms, cathedrals, and a world in motion. ...But when they teach about slavery, they often begin in 1619—as if the story started when the English showed up. That’s not just wrong. It’s erasure.Welcome back to Burden of History—and if you’re new here, welcome. This podcast brings truth to the surface, even when history tried to bury it. I’m your host, Dr. Rose.And today, in Episode 3 of our Before Slavery series, we go back to the world that existed before slavery ever reached America.This is “Before 1619.” And we’re telling the truth from the very beginning. Caution - This episode contains emotionally heavy material involving colonization, cultural erasure, and Indigenous resistance. No graphic language is used, but please listen with care. As always, our goal is truth with compassion.“They made us many promises, more than I can remember. But they only kept one. They promised to take our land—and they did.” — Red Cloud, Oglala Lakota Chief. Before there were colonies… before there was even a country… the land we now call America was already home. Home to nations with languages, governments, belief systems, and sacred traditions. But beginning in 1492, everything changed.

First came the ships—three of them. Then came the maps, the missions, and the greed. And with them, came a myth:

that this was an empty land, waiting to be claimed. - It wasn’t. What followed was not a single moment of conquest, but a series of encounters—some peaceful, many devastating—that would begin the long unraveling of Native sovereignty.

Today, we go back to where it all began:

the first contact, the broken promises, and the resistance that followed long before there was a United States. Let's begin.

Chapter 1:

, - First Contact, – Hope and Hospitality Imagine you’re a Native villager in the late 1400s or early 1500s. You’re fishing, planting, hunting—life is structured around the rhythms of nature and the wisdom of generations. Then, one day, the horizon changes. Strange people with pale skin arrive in what look like giant wooden beasts floating on water. They stumble ashore in layers of armor, sweating under the sun, clutching objects you’ve never seen. They speak in frantic bursts, loud and urgent—but none of it makes sense. They don’t understand your land, your language, or your ways. And yet, they carry themselves like they’ve discovered something. As if you weren’t already here. But you don’t attack. Instead, you offer them food, shelter, even guidance. That’s exactly what happened in many first encounters. The Taino people, living in what is now the Caribbean, were the first to meet Christopher Columbus. They greeted him with kindness. Columbus? He described them as generous—and then promptly wrote in his journal how easy it would be to enslave them. In the north, Algonquian and Powhatan tribes helped English settlers survive their first brutal winters. The Wampanoag, led by Massasoit, even signed a peace treaty with the Pilgrims at Plymouth Rock. That first Thanksgiving? It was real. But what came after? Not so heartwarming. Even the French, who preferred trade over conquest, eventually brought missionaries and disease along with their furs. The early years of contact were not immediate conquest. They were complicated. There was diplomacy, hope, and a real belief—on the Native side—that coexistence might be possible. But unfortunately, that generosity was mistaken for weakness. Some tribes saw the writing on the wall early. Others hoped for mutual benefit. And still, others prepared for what would come next. Because as more ships arrived, the guests who came for dinner started moving in… permanently. And they didn’t come empty-handed. They brought religion, flags, laws—and a doctrine that would change everything.Before we dive into religion and conquest, we need to step back and ask—why were they coming here in the first place?By the 1400s, Europe was in a frenzy for power, trade, and territory. Spain and Portugal were neck-and-neck in a race to find new sea routes, expand their empires, and secure exotic goods like spices, gold, and silk. It wasn’t just about exploration—it was about competition. Whoever found the newest lands first could claim not just the resources—but the bragging rights.And it wasn’t their first rodeo. Before Columbus ever set sail, Europeans had already been experimenting with conquest and colonization off the coast of Africa. The Portuguese, in particular, had established slave-trading forts along the West African coast. These early ventures into forced labor and domination shaped the blueprint for what they’d do in the Americas.So when they arrived on these shores, they didn’t come with curiosity alone. They came with a plan—and history shows they had already practiced it on someone else.

Chapter 2:

- Religion, - Greed, and the Doctrine of Discovery Let’s talk about how the newcomers justified taking land that wasn’t theirs. It wasn’t just weapons and warfare. They brought words… laws… and God. And those turned out to be just as dangerous. Apparently, stealing land is easier when you bring a Bible and a flag. Turns out—if you say “God sent me” loud enough, people stop asking why you’re building fences on their sacred ground. Because conquest always sounds cleaner—when it’s preached like salvation. At the heart of it all was something called the Doctrine of Discovery—a series of Papal Bulls issued by the Catholic Church in the 15th century. These declarations gave Christian explorers the so-called “right” to claim any non-Christian land as their own.

Let me break that down:

If the people they found didn’t worship the same God or wear the same robes, they were considered uncivilized—and their land was up for grabs. “We came to save souls,” they said… conveniently forgetting that land deeds weren’t spiritual.

The Spanish took this to heart with brutal effect. When Hernán Cortés landed in Mexico, he wasn’t looking for friends—he was looking for gold, and he believed God was on his side. The Requerimiento, a document read aloud in Spanish to Indigenous people who didn’t understand it, basically said:

“Convert to Christianity or we have the right to conquer you.” Not everyone in Europe agreed with this divine justification for conquest.There was one man who dared to call it out—Bartolomé de las Casas, a Spanish priest who had originally supported colonization but later became one of its fiercest critics.He witnessed the cruelty firsthand. The enslavement. The mass killings. The destruction of entire cultures. And he couldn’t stay silent.In 1542, de las Casas published A Short Account of the Destruction of the Indies. It was exactly what it sounds like—a detailed, gut-wrenching report of Spanish atrocities against Indigenous people.

He wrote, “What we committed in the Indies stands out among the most unpardonable offenses ever committed against God and humankind.”Did his writings change everything? No. But they changed something.His outcry forced the Spanish crown to issue the New Laws of 1542, which were supposed to end the enslavement of Indigenous peoples in Spanish colonies.Spoiler alert: - they were ignored in most places. But de las Casas’ legacy remains as one of the first documented voices to say:

“This is wrong…This is evil…And this is not what God would want.” Even in a world built on domination, there were those who chose to stand on the side of justice. —Helpful, right?

In North America, the English and French followed a similar pattern. Even when their language was softer, the meaning was the same:

“You don’t know God the way we do. So we’ll help you. And while we’re at it… we’ll take your land.” Missionaries came in droves, sometimes with good intentions—but often tied to colonizers, soldiers, and settlers. For Native people, these visits weren’t just about religion—they were about the erosion of culture. Traditional spiritual practices were labeled pagan. Ceremonies were outlawed. Children were later forced into church-run schools to “kill the Indian and save the man.”

But let’s be clear:

Native peoples had deep, sacred belief systems—long before a Bible ever touched the soil. From the Iroquois Great Law of Peace, to the Lakota’s spiritual harmony with nature, to Pueblo ceremonies aligned with the stars—their faith guided their lives with purpose. They didn’t need saving. They needed respecting. Unfortunately, the Doctrine of Discovery didn’t just stay in the past. Its principles are still echoed in some modern legal rulings. Yes—today.

Let me show you just how far those echoes travel.In 1823, the U.S. Supreme Court made a ruling in Johnson v. M’Intosh, a case about land ownership between white settlers and Indigenous people.Now, you might think:

“That sounds old. Irrelevant.” But here’s the kicker—it’s still cited in American courts today.Chief Justice John Marshall wrote that the “discovery” of America gave European nations, and by extension the United States, ultimate title to the land—even if Native people were living there.Let that sink in....A decision written nearly 200 years ago, based on a doctrine created by the Catholic Church in the 1400s, is still influencing property law and Indigenous land claims in the 21st century.It’s like discovering your landlord doesn’t actually own the building—but is still cashing the rent checks because some medieval bishop said he could.This isn’t dusty legal theory. It’s a system where colonial theft was turned into paperwork—and then filed away as precedent.

But in the 1500s and 1600s, that doctrine fueled everything:

war, land grabs, slavery, forced conversions, and the rewriting of history. And it paved the way for another tool of deception—treaties.

Chapter 3:

Treaties, Traps, and Broken Promises

After the first waves of contact and conversion came something a bit more… official:

treaties.On paper, treaties sound like a good idea. Two nations sit down, agree on terms, shake hands (or feathers), and walk away with mutual respect. But when one side is writing the documents, enforcing the laws, and changing the terms without warning—well, it’s not a treaty. It’s a trap. The very first treaties between Native nations and European powers were often filled with misunderstandings. Many Native communities had no concept of private land ownership. Land was sacred, shared, and lived upon—not bought, sold, or fenced off. So when colonizers said, “Sign this document giving us your land,” Native leaders often believed they were agreeing to share land—or to form a peaceful alliance. Instead, they were unknowingly giving up their homes… forever. And when they realized what had happened? Too late. Take the Treaty of Hartford in 1638, for example. After the Pequot War, the survivors were forced into a treaty that essentially outlawed their very identity. The name "Pequot" was banned. Their people were enslaved or absorbed into other tribes. And yet, the colonists called it a "peace agreement." It’s the only time in history where signing a treaty erased your name from existence. Then came the Walking Purchase of 1737 in Pennsylvania. The Lenape people were told that white settlers would take as much land as a man could walk in a day and a half. But the settlers hired trained runners, cleared paths, and claimed over 1200 square miles. It was fraud with a finish line. To make it worse, even when treaties were signed in good faith—like the Treaty of Fort Laramie—they were broken as soon as the U.S. government decided it needed more land, more railroads, or more gold.These weren’t just dishonest dealings. These were instruments of conquest wrapped in the language of civility. So many broken promises. So many communities displaced.If treaties were kept, Indigenous nations today would own nearly two-thirds of the continental United States.But they weren't.Instead, treaty after treaty was violated. And eventually, Native people stopped trusting the ink and started preparing for battle.Because when words failed, they turned to resistance. They were told to sign treaties written in a language they didn’t understand. Told that sharing the land meant surrendering it. Told that if they resisted, they were savages.And still—they tried.There are records of Native leaders traveling hundreds of miles—on foot or horseback—to speak directly to colonial governors and U.S. officials.Chiefs like Joseph Brant of the Mohawk, Black Kettle of the Cheyenne, and Seattle of the Duwamish all pleaded for peace. They made their case with logic, history, and heart.And time and again, they were met with lies—or silence.The U.S. government even appointed Indian agents who were supposed to advocate for Native communities. Many of them were corrupt.Those who weren’t? They were often ignored by Washington.Treaties weren’t just broken—they were bulldozed by greed, railroads, and westward dreams.At some point, resistance wasn’t a choice.It was survival.

Chapter 4:

Resistance Before the Revolution Before the American Revolution ever sparked, Native nations were already fighting for their land, their people, and their right to exist. They didn’t wait for the Declaration of Independence to say “We have a right to freedom.” They knew that already. And they acted on it. Let’s start with King Philip’s War, one of the bloodiest conflicts in American history—yet rarely taught in schools. In 1675, Metacom, a Wampanoag leader known to the English as “King Philip,” led a coalition of tribes across New England to push back against colonial expansion. The settlers had broken treaties, seized more land, and disrespected Native traditions. Metacom had enough. For nearly two years, Native warriors struck back with strategic attacks on English settlements. At one point, half of all Puritan towns in New England were damaged or destroyed.

It was a full-scale uprising. It wasn’t just about land—it was about dignity, survival, and sending a message:

“We are not yours to conquer.” Though the colonists eventually crushed the rebellion, they did so at a great cost. Thousands died. And in the aftermath, hundreds of Native people were enslaved, executed, or driven out. Metacom was killed—his head displayed on a pike for two decades. A brutal warning to any future resisters.

Can you imagine this?You show up uninvited to someone’s home. They feed you. Clothe you. Help you survive your first winter. They share their land, even though they don’t owe you a thing. And in return?You kill them. And just to make sure no one ever forgets what happens when people fight back… You cut off their leader’s head— and leave it on a pike. Not for a day. Not for a week. But for twenty years.That’s what they did to Metacom.The man who dared to defend his people was turned into a trophy. Displayed like a warning sign:

“This is what happens when you resist.”Now tell me— how much nerve does it take to accept someone’s kindness… and repay it with that? But resistance didn’t end there.Just five years later, in what is now the American Southwest, the Pueblo Revolt of 1680 shook the Spanish Empire to its core. Led by a spiritual leader named Popé, the Pueblo people united across different villages and languages to drive out the Spanish colonizers from present-day New Mexico. They destroyed mission churches, cut off Spanish supply lines, and reclaimed their land. The Spanish were completely expelled for 12 years—one of the only successful Indigenous revolts in colonial history. Popé didn’t just win a battle. He reclaimed spiritual and cultural sovereignty—restoring banned ceremonies, languages, and traditions. Let me tell you about The Yamasee War, a powerful but often overlooked rebellion... This wasn’t random rebellion. It was coordinated, intelligent, and grounded in a deep love for community. From the East Coast to the Southwest, Native resistance was strong long before the United States called itself a country. They didn’t just endure colonization. They challenged it—head on. Let’s not forget the Yamasee War of 1715. A coalition of tribes—including the Yamasee, Muscogee (Creek), Catawba, and others—rose up against British colonists in the southeastern region of what’s now the United States.Why? Because the colonists weren’t just taking land—they were enslaving Native people and forcing them into debt and dependency.The Native coalition nearly wiped out the entire South Carolina colony. For a while, it looked like the British might lose their southern foothold.This was a major Indigenous uprising—one of the most threatening colonial America ever faced. And yet, it’s barely mentioned in textbooks.The war didn’t end in total victory for the Yamasee, but it left scars on the colonial psyche—and reminded settlers that Native people were not going to go quietly. And their stories remind us that resistance is not always about winning—it’s about refusing to be erased. What did resistance actually cost them?Land, lives, language—yes. But it also cost them peace of mind.Generations of Native families lived with the constant pressure of assimilation.Imagine waking up and not being allowed to pray in your language… Or raise your child with your traditions… Or even speak your own name without fear.That’s not just cultural loss. That’s erasure in slow motion.And yet—they resisted. With every ceremony performed in secret… Every child taught the stories their schools tried to suppress… Every grandmother whispering old words into newborn ears…Resistance wasn’t always loud. Sometimes, it was as quiet as memory.

Chapter 5:

The Shift from Coexistence to Colonization Coexistence turned into conquest. At first, colonization didn’t look like a tidal wave. It came slowly—through trade, treaties, and missions. A handshake here. A peace pipe there. But underneath the surface was a quiet, growing storm. Because once the European powers realized the land was rich, the resources were vast, and the Native people weren’t going to disappear… their strategy shifted. Coexistence turned into conquest. Settlements became towns. Towns became colonies. And colonies began drawing lines that didn’t exist before—on maps, in laws, and in blood. No longer was the goal to live beside Native nations. Now the goal was to control them… or remove them. You can see this shift in the language used in colonial charters. Early documents spoke of “peaceful neighbors.” Later ones used terms like “dominion,” “subject,” and “territorial rights.”“We want to share the land,” turned into “We own it now—deal with it.” It’s also reflected in the military buildup. Colonists began forming militias—not just for defense, but for aggression. They launched preemptive strikes, demanded land cessions, and took captives to send a message. Even those who initially supported peaceful engagement—like William Penn in Pennsylvania—couldn’t stop what was coming. As more settlers arrived, the pressure for expansion grew. And with expansion came violence."Spiritual warfare intensified, too". Ceremonial grounds were bulldozed. Sacred sites were turned into farms or fortresses. And children were taken from their communities and placed in boarding schools that stripped away their language, identity, and spirit. Before we wrap up, let’s pause to recognize what was nearly lost.A continent wasn’t discovered. It was invaded.And in the process, entire ways of life—languages, medicines, architecture, cosmology—were nearly wiped from the earth.But not completely. -Because memory survives.You can still hear it in the beat of the drum at powwows… You can still see it in the beading of regalia, in the resistance of water protectors, in the pride of a Native elder teaching a child their tribal tongue. -Survival isn’t just continuing to breathe. It’s continuing to be.And Indigenous people—despite centuries of policy designed to erase them—are still here.Not as relics. Not as mascots. Not as myths.But as teachers. Leaders. Innovators.And storytellers who never stopped telling the truth—even when the world refused to listen. Call to Action The history you just heard is not distant. It lives in the land we walk on, the policies we uphold, and the stories we choose—or refuse—to tell. Too often, Native history is boxed into Thanksgiving lessons or mascots on football fields. But Native resistance? Native brilliance? That’s ongoing. From the Taino’s first welcome… to Popé’s rebellion… to modern land protectors standing at Standing Rock—Indigenous people have never stopped fighting for their right to exist with dignity, sovereignty, and truth. This episode isn’t just about what happened. It’s about what was hidden—and who it was hidden from. And if this is your first time hearing any of this… that’s not your fault. But now that you know, what you do next? That’s on you. “And before we go… I want to leave you with something to think about.”

Author’s Note:

As a healthcare professional, I’ve spent my life advocating for systems that respect human dignity. As a historian, I’ve committed myself to unearthing truths that never made it to our textbooks. This podcast is my love letter to truth—and my quiet protest against the erasure of people who mattered. If this episode made you pause, question, or reflect—that’s the work. That’s the burden… and the beauty… of history.

If you found value in today’s episode:

Share it with someone who needs to hear the full story. Follow Burden of History on your favorite podcast platform.“Leave a review—it helps this truth reach more people. And if you haven’t already, please subscribe to our YouTube channel, Burden of History. "That’s where we go deeper—through visuals and storytelling you won’t find anywhere else.""If you subscribe, be sure to leave us a note to let us know you joined from this podcast. We love hearing from our listeners"Help us bring truth to more people—because silence protects no one.”• 💥 And come back next week as we dig deeper into what happened after the colonists declared independence… and who paid the price for that freedom. You’ve been listening to Burden of History. I’m Dr. Rose. Until next time—listen deeply, learn bravely, and never stop asking whose story

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Dr. Rose Chaperon

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