Meet Jim Thorpe: More Than a First
Photo Illustration: Humanizing History Visuals. Photo: unattributed, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
Welcome to Humanizing History™! Every month, we feature a central theme. Each week, we dive into different areas of focus.
This month’s theme: Changemakers — More than a First
This week’s focus: Hidden History, a facts-based narrative to highlight someone who changed history
Today’s edition of Humanizing History™ is about 1,200 words, an estimated 4½-minute read.
Trigger Warning: This newsletter references violence and forced assimilation. Please care for yourself as needed.
The Why for This Week’s Topic
This month, we’re examining a topic common across school curricula: changemakers.
In the early grades, changemakers often start close to home — people who fight fires, deliver mail, grow food, or care for families. They often make change dependably and without much fanfare.
As students grow older, the focus often shifts to people who shaped history — political leaders, inventors, movement organizers, builders of empires. These biographies often signal “who matters.”
But there’s another layer worth exploring: people who were the first to do something. Firsts are often celebrated for breaking barriers and opening doors, yet their story rarely begins — or ends — there.
Why were they the first?
What legal or social obstacles did they face?
What conditions made their achievements improbable and possible — and how did their impact extend beyond the named, single milestone?
In our work with educators, a common theme emerges: the “first” is important, but it’s only part of a larger story.
To understand changemakers more fully — and more humanly — we can tell the larger story of their context, complexity, and continued impact.
This month, we’ll explore changemakers who were first — but also “more than a first.”
For our first newsletter, let’s meet Jim Thorpe.
Jim Thorpe: “More Than a First”
For many sports enthusiasts, Jim Thorpe is often referred to as one of the greatest athletes of the early 20th century.
An Olympic gold medalist in the pentathlon and decathlon at the 1912 Games, Thorpe also played professional football and baseball.
He was the first Native American, or Indigenous, athlete to reach this level of national — and international — recognition.
It may be tempting to remember Thorpe as simply a “Native American Olympic champion.” But his story is far more layered, complex, and deeply human than a simple title, or label, allows.
Early Life: Bright Path
Born in the late 1880s as Wah-Tho-Huk, often translated as Bright Path, Thorpe grew up on a Native American reservation in what is now Oklahoma.
As legend goes, the night Wah-Tho-Huk was born, lightning struck a nearby river, and it seems that energy would carry him forward, especially through immense challenges.
Orphaned as a teenager, Thorpe grew up amid upheaval: land dispossession, forced assimilation, and systemic violence by the U.S. government.
At that time, fewer than 300,000 Indigenous Americans remained within the U.S. borders — a fraction of the tens of millions who had lived across the Americas before colonization.
Thorpe had a natural athletic ability.
As author Kate Buford says, Thorpe grew up “challenging his own body, even as a little boy… swimming in the North Canadian River, catching wild horses, running over fences.” These early experiences built strength, resilience, and a love for movement that would influence his life.
This was some of the world that shaped Wah-Tho-Huk, or Jim Thorpe — a mix of survival and forged strength drawn from his heritage and his environment.
Schooling and Sport
Jim Thorpe attended several U.S. government-run boarding schools, which sought to assimilate Native children by denying them access to Indigenous culture and knowledge.
The horrific motto of one, Carlisle Indian Industrial School, where Thorpe would eventually attend, was “K*ll the Indian, save the man.”
Thorpe ran away several times, traveling over 20 miles on foot to return home.
Eventually, he was sent to Haskell Institute in Kansas, where he first encountered organized football.
Despite systemic discrimination, his talent was undeniable.
Dr. Shane Doyle of the Apsáalooke Nation notes, “It’s amazing that these communities survived. Even more stunning is that an athlete could emerge from those circumstances."
Dr. Joely Proudfit, Professor of Native American adds, “For Jim Thorpe, sports are in his blood. [Indigenous people] invented so many games that people know today,” such as lacrosse and other games that may be considered precursors for soccer, such as pahsahëman.
The Olympics and the Stripped Medal
In 1912, Thorpe competed in the pentathlon and decathlon, with little formal training.
By the final race, he only needed seventh place to win gold. Legend says his track shoes were stolen, forcing Thorpe to run in mismatched footwear — including a shoe that was too small and a shoe too large — yet, he still won by a huge margin.
Thorpe received international acclaim, but within a year, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) stripped him of his medals. Years earlier, he had briefly played minor-league baseball, technically violating amateur rules. Other athletes who earned money playing sports were not penalized. (Watch this video to unpack this complex story.)
As a result, Thorpe’s records were erased, reflecting selective enforcement and racial or cultural double standards.
It wasn’t until 1983, thirty years after his death, that the IOC reinstated his title, and not until 2022 that he was fully recognized as the sole gold medalist of both events — a hard-earned result of a Native-led campaign to restore his medals and return his name to the pages of history.
More Than a Medal
Beyond the Olympics, Thorpe played professional baseball and football, serving as the first president of what became the NFL.
Throughout his life, Thorpe also worked to support Native communities — helping people find jobs, housing, and even film industry work in Los Angeles.
As W. Ron Allen, of S’Klallam Tribe reflected, “He stayed focused, he persevered, he was patient. I’m sure he struggled, but never lost his determination.”
Thorpe’s later years were marked by hardship, economic struggle, ongoing prejudice, and erasure — but his impact endures.
His layered story reminds us that to be the “first” often carries the weight of many histories.
The measure of a “changemaker” — or someone who opens doors or breaks ceilings — lies not only in their triumphs, but in their struggles and resilience, in their humanity and the paths they clear for others to follow.
From the moment of his birth, Wah-Tho-Huk or Bright Path, seems almost destined to create such a legacy — a result of both strength and sacrifice.
What Comes Next?
When talking to children about changemakers, especially those who were “The First,” we can tell their stories as single moments of triumph, or we can expand the story to include context, obstacles, persistence, and community.
Jim Thorpe wasn’t the “first” because no one before him could succeed. He was the first whose excellence and moments of circumstance broke through barriers that had long kept others unseen.
When unpacking his story, consider asking:
What conditions made being the “first” possible?
Who helped — or hindered — along the way?
What did it cost to be “the first”?
How does their story inspire change today?
Being first isn’t an ending — it’s an opening. An opening for other voices, other stories, and for students to see that changemaking happens everywhere, and it’s often accompanied with an immeasurable echo that can inspire generations.
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