Juliet at the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone
On our trip out west to Yellowstone National Park, we took in so many splendid sights. Then, on the eighth day of travel, I woke up with a sense of dread about what we hadn’t seen on our trip.
I covered at this previous post our itinerary and shared photos from the eighteen National Parks Service sites we visited in just over two weeks. Living almost my entire life in the South, pretty much every mile traveled was a new kind of landscape for my kids and I to take in.
The seemingly endless plains across Nebraska, laid out flat and blown by an ever billowing wind transitioned into the rising land of Wyoming as we made our way to Yellowstone. On our return back, we went through multiple canyons and back again across the great plains of South Dakota, Nebraska, and Iowa.
Along these landscapes were animals that were new to us: we saw our first pronghorn in Western Nebraska and then regularly as we drove through Wyoming. Yellowstone, Grand Teton, Badlands, and Wind Cave National Parks all have their own herds of bison. And, in the Badlands we saw bighorn sheep.
Bison herd in Yellowstone NP, photo credit: James Leach
The bison were particularly impressive. For whatever reason, I either did not know or failed to appreciate that the American Bison is the largest land mammal on the entire North American continent (actually in the entire Western Hemisphere). For whatever reason, I figured polar bear or musk ox held that distinction. But, then you see them and you gain an appreciation for their mass.
Standing at over 6ft high at the shoulder with bulls weighing in excess of a ton, they are to our continent what the African elephant is to that continent.
What cannot be appreciated, however, is what all of those plains and fields, canyons and valleys looked like just over 100 years ago. At that time, the time popularly known as the height of the American Old West, herds of bison numbering in the millions flooded the Great Plains. We read at one stop how one traveling party waited for three days for a herd to cross their path before they could move on.
We can’t appreciate what that must have been like because it was the United States military strategy to wipe out the bison as a means of eliminating the threat it perceived the Native American tribes posed to westward expansion.
The logic of the strategy went like this: Native American tribes relied heavily on the bison (also regularly referred to as buffalo) for their survival. By killing off the bison, it made the Native Americans more dependent and more likely to agree to be dependent upon the U.S. government’s promises of rations if the tribes agreed to be restricted to living just on reservations.
As one Army colonel said to a wealthy businessman the colonel was leading on a hunting trip:
“Kill every buffalo you can! Every buffalo dead is an Indian gone.”
The plan worked.
The herds of millions of bison were culled to just a few dozen remaining in the wild. And, likewise, the population of Native Americans, who had numbered in the millions prior to the arrival of Columbus, dwindled to around 250,000 by 1890.
The elimination did not happen by accident or circumstance. It was intentional. Strategic. Planned.
Disappearance & the 8th Day
On the eighth day of our travels, we were at our first stop on our return from Yellowstone: Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Area. That evening, after setting up camp, we toured the park. We saw about 10% of the Wild Horse herd that makes its home in the park and, rounding a corner on the road, we saw a juvenile black bear. Our adrenaline surged as we got out of the truck to take pictures, while I took the safety clip off the bear spray in case mama bear made an appearance (fortunately, she did not).
Returning to camp, I grilled a late dinner and we all went to bed soon afterwards.
I was awakened around 5 am that morning. Not by a noise or storm (though there had been some rain overnight) but I couldn’t fall back asleep because of a realization that would not leave my mind.
We had driven already thousands of miles by that point. We had visited ten of the total 18 parks on our trips. There were dozens of visitors at the early sites in Nebraska and literally thousands of visitors once we made it to Yellowstone and Grand Teton. We saw people from all over the world visiting these sights, Japanese, Chinese, Israeli, French, Spanish, British and of course from all over the United States. We saw people of all races and ethnicities, as well.
But what I realized that morning was we had not seen anyone with Down syndrome, other than my daughter, Juliet.
As a parent, it becomes second nature to notice someone other than your own child who happens to have Down syndrome when you are out in public. James, too, will tug on my sleeve to let me know of someone with Down syndrome he spied in the restaurant, at the supermarket, in the crowds. But, neither of us had seen any other person with Down syndrome.
This realization saddened me.
It saddened me because I had to believe it had something to do with more than just all the other explanations, some of which are: well, maybe families with someone with Down syndrome are less likely to visit national parks due to the physical rigor of hiking (never mind the NPS offers an Access Pass for those with disabilities that saved us a significant sum in entrance fees); we were traveling through relatively less populated states and therefore there just aren’t as many people, period, living there, including those with Down syndrome; and, yes, maybe you’re the weirdo Mark who thinks making your kids do the equivalent of homework by completing Junior Ranger books to get badges isn’t what most families would choose to do with precious vacation time.
Acknowledging all of those factors, the realization still saddened me. And, here’s why:
Because even if the overall population of people with Down syndrome is holding stable, currently, in the United States, and even if, there could be innocuous reasons for why I didn’t see anyone else with Down syndrome on a trip that crossed eight states, the fact remains that there are strategic, intentional, government-backed programs to eliminate lives with Down syndrome from being born through the public financing of prenatal genetic testing.
I am reticent to write this post in such a way that it can draw the reader to make an analogy of those with Down syndrome being akin to endangered species. There are images out there on the web that promote this meme, but I find it de-humanizing (because literally it is).
Instead, I would rather appeal to you, the reader, along what I believe is an innate and ever growing sense of conservation.
You don’t have to be an environmentalist or a tree-hugger to enjoy seeing nature in its natural splendor. Part of that is seeing nature preserved in its natural state. And, seeing the reaction of visitors to the bison herds, some reacting too closely to get their selfie and risking being gored (as happened to one lady during the time we were at Yellowstone), shows that seeing these rare, magnificent animals resonates with something deep inside each of us.
The opposite holds true as well.
When we think of how close we were to bison being extinct and not being here to be appreciated and enjoyed, we feel a sense of loss. Because indeed we would have lost something. We would have lost a whole kind of life, unique and wonderfully made.
It is this sense of sadness that overwhelmed me in realizing we had not seen another face with Down syndrome on our trip. It is that sense that I hope may cause us to pause and reflect on what we’re choosing to invest in, how prenatal testing is administered, and for what reason or goal. After taking that pause, hopefully it will motivate us to improve both how prenatal testing is administered and for what reasons it’s administered. Instead of being a tool of elimination of a condition historically discriminated against, let it become a tool for facilitating healthy pregnancies and births of all children, including those with Down syndrome.
A postscript: just two days after that sad morning, we were visiting Mount Rushmore. There standing along the amphitheater’s rear wall for the seats, I saw a family whose two-year old shared the tell-tale facial features that my daughter shares as well. I felt this excitement and hope and joy well up in me, so much so, that I’m sure I freaked the family out with my rushed speaking and stammering over myself just to exchange typical pleasantries.
While the lives with Down syndrome are staying fairly level, the opposite would be happening but for how prenatal genetic testing is administered. There would be at least 30 percent more babies being born each year. If that were to happen, then these faces would not be so rare. And they would not be disappearing from this world.
A great article. While on vacation with my 3 young adult children with DS I saw someone daily with DS when we went to breakfast at different hotels in different states. My attend a dance class with at least 40 other people that have DS and 25 volunteers that don’t. Our school system is fully integrated and there are kids everywhere at our schools with DS.
I fear that you ignore the problem is not prenatal screening, but the mechanisms that promote abortion. The main focus of pro-choice is the dehumanization of the fetus; until a fetus is recognized as a person the only person who is affected by the mother’s decision is the mother.
Look at the conditions that allowed us to exploit the American Indian. We refused to acknowledge that Indians were human; savages or primitives we called them… some distinction to justify our own superiority which gave us the privilege to deny them life. Animal cruelty is often seen by people who have major superiority complexes over lifeforms that are perceived as insignificant to themselves.
Humans are really good at finding reasons to hate each other… we’re of no shortage of excuses to dehumanize an individual. GATTACA shows us exactly where prenatal screening will head as technology continues create greater divide between ourselves and the idea of designer babies becomes more popular.
You spoke of utilitarianism in the prior post, which brings up an important question of what constitutes “good”? As humans, we’re oft to put ourselves in black and white categories, but Hegelian synthesis is still possible if we were to admit neither side is the idea and a new method of thought is required to make a moralistic decision.
With GATTACA creating a “god child” was seen as inflicting suffering on an individual due to the bigotry of the society. One could argue that “because society will never accept your child, it is better to not let your child be born”… but others (or rather a generic progressive movements) tend to point out that it is because society does not accept others that we need to elevate those others and bring them into the public’s eye.
From my research, expectant mothers who choose to terminate following a diagnosis recognize that they are already mothers, that their expectant child is just that, a child, and they still choose to terminate out of a concern of not having the support that they expect they will need. More here at this post.