A number of years ago, a friend and I got into a fascinating conversation. We chatted about the highest points of natural elevation in different states. Since we both lived in Washington, that point was the top of Mount Rainier at 14,400 feet. I have not been the top of that peak, nor do I have any interest if I have to endure the climb.
My home state of Florida is notoriously flat, and its highest point of natural elevation peaks at a few hundred feet, comparatively unimpressive. However, it’s still of interest to some people; we call the activity highpointing. While I’m certainly perplexed by this fascination, I pass no judgment on this activity. I collect and build Lego sets; who am I to judge? As long you don’t break any laws or harm people, do what you want.
Every few months friends on social media will post the list of the states they visited and the ones where they lived. They even define standards by which a state may be counted. For instance, you may count stopping in Texas for a layover, but may not count flying over Montana in a plane.
It’s all in the obsession of creating a list and crossing items off that list. Completing them rewards us with that sense of accomplishment.
Identifying with a team
I moved to Washington in the 1990’s. By the time I arrived, I already built my sports team loyalties. Mostly, I followed the Atlanta Braves. Though to be perfectly blunt, the idea of identifying with a team based strictly on physical proximity seems absurd. Even coming from the Miami area, I had absolutely no kinship with the Miami Dolphins.
The residents of Seattle seemed to be disproportionately spirited about the local professional sports teams, which at the time were the Mariners (baseball), Seahawks (football), and Sonics (basketball). I have no qualms about your selection process, as acquiescent as it may be, but allow me to make my own decisions. To expect me to root for a particular team based on geography, or furthermore to question that choice is absurd. “Oh, of course you have freedom of choice, as long as you choose like me.”
In 2008, the Seattle Sonics left the city and became the Oklahoma City Thunder. This move crushed many locals. One friend admitted that he publicly burned his Sonics jersey in protest. I understand this, to some degree. This one team integrated with your being in a way that can’t adequately be articulated. You remember moments of agony and elation, collectively shared with friends and family. I get that.
Over a decade later, friends still hold animosity over the Oklahoma City Thunder or even Kevin Durant (Rookie of the Year in Seattle), simply because the Sonics left Seattle.
Setting healthy boundaries
We continued to talk about the points of elevation across the United States. As you might imagine, there are people who aspire to reach the high points on each of the states. However, unlike the bucket list of ‘visiting each state’, the high point in any particular state is unique. In other words, to count the state of Washington, you couldn’t simply step over the state line from Oregon, you must make it to the top of Mount Rainier. It’s simply a greater challenge, like finishing a video game in hard difficulty.
However, so the story goes the high point in Florida resided in someone’s backyard; it was private property. Prospective high pointers would knock on the door of the homeowner and ask to enter. Amused at first, he allowed them to go and check this location off their list. As these became more frequent and disruptive, he refused. The question for you, the reader, is having crossed off the remaining 49 states off your list, would you:
- Risk a felony trespassing conviction in order to cross this final state off your list?
- Climb the next public high point in Florida and call it done (with an asterisk)?
- Abandon the list at 49 states, allowing that last entry to taunt you in perpetuity?
You can plead your case to the homeowner. You can rationalize that he was not reasonable. However, at the end of the day, it’s his property. He doesn’t owe you any courtesy or even an explanation. It’s his to do what he wants.
The moving of a team
I remember all the hoopla around the departure of the Seattle Sonics. I do not care about basketball or the Sonics. However, between the evening news and the local fans, I could not escape the discussion. I watched an entire city go through the five stages of grief around this basketball team.
The one stage that I found the creepiest was ‘bargaining’. All the endless talk of revamping the existing arena, and what changes would entice the team to stay. Or perhaps ‘we’ could build them a brand-new arena. I was somehow lumped into this group, with expectations that my tax dollars would fund the workplace of a local company, simply because enough locals identified with the label “Seattle Sonics”.
For everyone who identifies with a team to this degree of dysfunction, I’ll state this as bluntly as possible. The owners (and the league) decide whether to move the team and potentially where to move them. At the end of the day, it’s their property. They don’t owe you any courtesy or even an explanation. It’s theirs to do what they want.
It doesn’t matter if your favorite memory of your late father was at a Sonic’s game. Even if you should refer to them as your team, you don’t actually own them.
What about Americana?
Let’s say, as a hypothetical, that someone kidnaps your child as a toddler. Years later, the authorities find your child as a teenager. The kidnapper offers to pay money in reparations but expects to keep your child. Does that not sound completely absurd? What kind of surreal rationalization is there for a random stranger keeping your offspring indefinitely?
What if there’s a piece of American culture that is not legitimately ours? As it happens, Mount Rushmore, the famous one with the facial carving of the four presidents, is not actually on United States property. It was carved from sacred tribal land. Imagine someone urinating on your grandparents’ gravesite; that’s effectively what we did to them. The United States designated that land (The Black Hills) as “Permanent Indian Country” in the 1868 Fort Laramie Treaty.
This is not simply a biased perspective; it is beyond contestation. The Supreme Court ruled (United States v. Sioux Nation of Indians) that the land was taken illegally. To that end, they awarded the Sioux Nation more than $100 million. Here’s the wrinkle; the land was never for sale. To this day, they have never accepted that payment for the land; it’s still not for sale.
It’s very simple. At the end of the day, it’s their (Sioux Nation’s) property. They don’t owe you any courtesy or even an explanation. It’s theirs to do what they want. Even if they choose to destroy the monument, it’s their right.