Layli Long Soldier’s poem "38," featured in her collection Whereas, offers a profound and unsettling meditation on historical violence and its enduring impact on Native American communities. Through a stark, almost procedural recounting of the 1862 U.S.-Dakota War and its brutal aftermath, Long Soldier doesn't just present facts; she dissects the language used to frame these events, revealing its inadequacy and complicity in perpetuating erasure. The poem’s power lies in its deliberate, understated tone, which amplifies the horror of the events it describes and highlights the ongoing struggle for Indigenous sovereignty and narrative control.
The poem centers on the mass execution of 38 Dakota men in Mankato, Minnesota, on December 26, 1862, the largest mass execution in U.S. history. Long Soldier meticulously lists the names of these men, a simple act that transforms them from historical footnotes into individuals. This act of naming is a direct challenge to the dehumanizing language that often surrounds such atrocities. The official narratives frequently reduced the Dakota people to aggressors or obstacles to progress, justifying their displacement and extermination. By presenting the names, Long Soldier asserts their humanity and their right to be remembered. The repetition of "Thirty-eight" throughout the poem acts as a somber refrain, a constant reminder of the unfathomable loss.
Beyond the immediate depiction of violence, "38" engages with the very nature of historical documentation and its inherent biases. Long Soldier contrasts the official records – often cold, bureaucratic, and detached – with the lived experience of trauma. She questions the authority of these documents, implicitly asking who wrote them, for what purpose, and whose voices were excluded. This interrogation of language is a core element of the poem. The use of phrases like "according to the history books" or "the official account" suggests a skepticism towards dominant historical narratives. The poem implies that these accounts are not neutral but are constructed to serve specific political agendas, often at the expense of truth and justice for Indigenous peoples.
Furthermore, "38" explores the continuity of historical trauma into the present. The poem’s quiet intensity suggests that the echoes of 1862 are not confined to the past but continue to shape contemporary Indigenous lives. The execution of the 38 men represents a foundational act of dispossession and violence that has had lasting repercussions on Dakota culture, land, and identity. Long Soldier’s unflinching gaze forces readers to confront this uncomfortable legacy, moving beyond a detached historical analysis to an understanding of its present-day implications. The poem doesn't offer easy answers or sentimental resolutions; instead, it demands a reckoning with the past and a recognition of its persistent weight.
In conclusion, Layli Long Soldier’s "38" is a masterful work of poetic reclamation. By employing a restrained yet potent style, the poem confronts the sanitized versions of American history, highlighting the silenced voices and the enduring pain of Indigenous communities. The act of naming, the critical examination of language, and the persistent evocation of the number thirty-eight all contribute to a powerful testament to the resilience of memory and the urgent need for a more truthful understanding of historical events. The poem serves as a vital counter-narrative, insisting on the recognition of individual lives lost and the ongoing struggle for justice.