America—the United States—is a multicultural, multi‑ethnic nation composed of Indigenous peoples and individuals who have emigrated from nearly every country and region in the world. Yet for much of the nation’s history, its historical narratives were written as though people of color, minority communities, and Indigenous nations either did not exist or did not matter. Generations of scholars, historians, anthropologists, and others have worked to correct this imbalance. Only in the last 50 years have the histories of Indigenous peoples, minority communities, minority immigrants, and, in many places, women’s histories begun to appear prominently in print and other media.
Despite this extensive scholarship demonstrating how white, male, Anglo‑American histories were long privileged over others, these corrective efforts are now being dismissed. Countless pages, ribbons of typewriter ink, digital files, and the dedicated labor of millions of scholars have been committed to developing more equitable, inclusive, and methodologically rigorous histories. Yet under the current presidential administration, these efforts are at risk of being discarded in favor of recentering American history solely on white Anglo‑Saxon and Christian narratives. This is occurring even though many historians today—who themselves are predominantly white, Anglo‑Saxon, male, and Christian—support the newer, more inclusive histories and actively contribute to them.
It also appears irrelevant to the administration that a nation is strengthened when its histories reflect the full breadth of its population. Inclusive histories allow communities to see themselves, their families, their cultures, and their identities represented. Although marginalization and “othering” still occur in some contexts, they are far less widespread than in the past precisely because of this expanded historical work.
However, the administration’s growing authoritarian tendencies have led it to attempt to control historical narratives—a pattern common among authoritarian regimes throughout recent world history. Such regimes often seek to eliminate anything that casts their privileged class in an unfavorable light and to rewrite history in a way that promotes nationalist ideals. In some communities, this strategy is unfortunately effective. There are recent instances of individuals defending the paramilitary wing of the administration, accepting claims that those harmed or detained “deserve” such treatment because they are supposedly criminals. Some of these apologists even reside in minority communities—often individuals with lighter skin, older generations, or those who fear federal authority and believe their survival depends on it. Meanwhile, the paramilitary forces themselves are often inadequately trained, only nominally “police,” and hide their identities to avoid accountability for the human rights violations they commit.
Despite these efforts, history—and the documented abuses within it—cannot be erased. Removing a sign does not erase the realities of slavery, genocide, or the many other truths we now understand. Scholars and readers of history are already renewed in their commitment to research and writing. Our work will continue, even through the administration’s temporary suspension of federal support.
Sierra Club Article
National Parks belong to all people of the United States, including the minority communities that the administration seeks to exclude. Our histories deserve representation alongside all others. Although the administration treats the parks as its personal domain, the reality is clear. When historical signs representing our communities are removed, the entire nation suffers, and we grow weaker. Fortunately, individuals and organizations are now working to preserve as much of this historical material as possible. This may ultimately be beneficial, as many signs were created decades ago and inadequately reflect current knowledge. Within a few years, we may have the opportunity to update these materials with more accurate and advanced interpretations, replacing those removed. The “Save‑Our‑Signs” project deserves recognition for its efforts to preserve National Park histories in a forward‑looking way.
For Indigenous peoples, many National Parks encompass our ancestral homelands. Numerous parks exist specifically because of our enduring cultural contributions, which remain visible across the vast landscapes of the West. These lands preserve our cultural heritage, which spans tens of thousands of years. Our existence long predates the United States, making the removal of signage about Indigenous histories both illogical and harmful. The Parks would, in many ways, lose their meaning without these histories. Perhaps this is the political motive: if Indigenous history disappears and the West is rewritten without Indigenous peoples—effectively a new form of “Indian” termination—then the parks themselves can be declared unnecessary, paving the way for the sale of land and resources, a goal pursued by Republican political factions for decades.
The central obstacle to such efforts is history itself. History shapes how people understand their world, and many individuals find personal meaning in historical knowledge. If historical narratives are rewritten to exclude minority and Indigenous perspectives, society risks reverting to an older worldview dominated by Anglo‑Saxon male narratives. Yet most of us remember what we have already learned, and once this administration passes, we will redouble our efforts to restore inclusive scholarship and prevent such erasure from happening again. My one concern is that without continued climate research and action, our world may soon become uninhabitable—too quickly for us in the future to recover.