The Oregon Trail

I, personally, have never died of dysentery.

If you have died of dysentery, though,

and lived to tell the tale, then you undoubtedly attended public school in the United States, and you think the the Oregon Trail game is RAD.

My sister-in-law, for example, born and raised in Yamhill County, Oregon, died of dysentery dozens of times, and it still makes her giggle.

This year, my Aden is in the fourth grade. And in the fourth grade in Oregon, kids learn about the Oregon Trail. That means this is the time of the year when parents kids bring their completed Oregon Trail projects to school for their final grade – like carefully crafted covered wagons made of popsicle sticks and torn bedsheets and held together with heavy globs of Elmer’s glue, hope, frustration, and parental intervention.

And the kids learn SO MUCH about our country’s history…

the circumstances that drive people to take tremendous risks for a new life…

the call of freedom on our souls…

and dysentery.

Aden’s grandma picked her up from school this week. Aden’s grandma is a retired teacher. Aden’s grandma has lived in Oregon most of her life. And so Aden’s grandma asked Aden all about the Oregon Trail.

Their conversation went like this:

Grandma: So, Aden, are you learning about the Oregon trail this year?

Aden: Mm, hmm. We’re making it! But I only have the mountain done.

Grandma: You’re making a map of the trail?

Aden: Yes!

Grandma: So where did the trail start?

Aden: Mississippi.

Grandma: Missouri?

Aden: Yes!

Grandma: How did the people travel? Did they walk?

Aden: Yes! But they had those other things, too.

Grandma: You mean covered wagons?

Aden: Yes!

Grandma: What made the wagons move?

Aden: The wheels.

Grandma: Well, didn’t they have something to pull the wagons?

Aden: Yes! The buffalo.

Grandma: You mean the oxen?

Aden: Yes!

Grandma: So, are you learning a lot about the Oregon Trail this year?

Aden: I am!

I’m pretty sure that teaching and parenting are two sides of the same coin. I plan my words. I organize my thoughts. I teach the life lessons. I give my kids the very best information so they’ll have a sense of their place in history, empathy for the plight of modern immigrants, pride in human tenacity, and respect for native culture. I hand them all of my knowledge, wrapped with bows and pretty paper.

You guys, they don’t even have to experience life for themselves to learn my fantastic lessons! They just have to pluck those lessons out of the gift boxes, fully formed.

And you know what my kids do? They absorb or discard what I offer them. Randomly. All willy-nilly. Intuitively and easily understanding some things. Wrestling and fighting and learning other things the very hardest way possible. Just like regular people. So beautiful. So maddening.

In the end, I suppose I must walk the Trail beside my kids and their buffalo, our covered wagon stacked high with lessons, some that I packed on purpose and some that they picked up along the way.

I just hope we don’t get dysentery.

Love,
Beth

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ABOUT BETH WOOLSEY I'm a writer. And a mess. And mouthy, brave, and strong. I believe we all belong to each other. I believe in the long way 'round. And I believe, always, in grace in the grime and wonder in the wild of a life lived off course from what was, once, a perfectly good plan.
6 comments
  1. Have you really truly lived if you haven’t died of dysentery??? 😉 I grew up in Oregon too, but I don’t know if you had to to play this game!
    I remember making maps of the state with a little star for our town (Clatskanie) and then making cider in an old fashioned cider press in our old school gym that I swear was almost as old as the Oregon Trail! 😉

  2. Ahhh, you’re wonderful! Your kiddos will turn out great…walking behind their buffalo.

    They probably got dysentery from eating too many hard-boiled eggs. Bring your Oregon-educated kids our way and help us get through this frig full of eggs…and Aden can take over school for the day and teach my kids all about “stuff.”

    Wow–totally random thoughts today. Sorry ’bout that.

  3. Oh, how I loved the Oregon Trail game (and I’m from Indiana). 🙂 PuThis conversation made me smile. 🙂

    P.S. I found your blog via your beautifully expressed comment to Stephanie at Adventures in Babywearing. So nice to “meet” you! 🙂

    -Rachel

  4. I always said that if I were a pioneer woman, I’d be buried along the trail. Never thought about it being due to dysentery. I thought it would be due to being a wimp.

    I can’t wait to learn more from Aden.

  5. Hey… I grew up in Oregon- I even grew up in Clackamas County and I have never heard of the Oregon Trail game until now! I do think the Oregon Trail is RAD though. 😉

  6. I’ve died of dysentery more times than I can count, and I turned out okay! 🙂

    I love reading your “spin” on things. Gives me a little bit of perspective. Tomorrow, please give me some perspective on temper tantrums and sibling scream fests, would you?

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