UPDATE (Jan. 8, 2023 9:30 a.m. ET): On Sunday, “Killers of the Flower Moon” star Lily Gladstone won for best actress in a motion picture, drama. Gladstone is the first Indigenous actress to win a Golden Globe, ever.
“Killers of the Flower Moon,” nominated for seven Golden Globes on Monday, unspools a dark chapter in our nation’s history, unknown to many: “the Osage Reign of Terror.” Greed and inhumanity in 1920s Oklahoma drove meticulously orchestrated murders and the appropriation of the Osage Nation’s significant oil wealth. Central to this exploitation was the theft of ‘headrights’ — a financial inheritance Osage citizens acquired from leasing their oil rights, making them the wealthiest community globally, per capita, during this moment in history.
Amid the chronicle of the ruthless efforts to drain the Osage Nation’s affluence, the film briefly mentions the parallel attempt to destroy the nation’s wealthiest Black community at that time: Greenwood, located just a few miles from the Osage Nation. This attack on Black Oklahomans culminated in the infamous Tulsa Race Massacre. As a son of Greenwood and a lawyer based in Tulsa, I have lived in Osage County while seeking reparations for the last two living survivors of that massacre. With “Killers of the Flower Moon” receiving more and more award recognition, I want to pose a question for the nation that I’ve long asked for Black Tulsans: What are we going to do as a society for the Osage whose oil rights were stolen and remain in the wrong hands today — as well as others in our society who faced similar injustices?
Both the Osage Nation and the descendants of the Tulsa Race Massacre victims deserve a shared outcome – justice in its truest sense.
You might wonder why a lawyer representing survivors of the Tulsa Race Massacre is addressing this issue. The answer is straightforward: Both the Osage Nation, exploited for its ‘headrights,’ and the descendants of the Tulsa Race Massacre victims deserve a shared outcome – justice in its truest sense.
Both tales are grounded in the allure of prosperity. The Osage — by virtue of their oil-rich lands — and Greenwood — propelled by the industriousness of its Black residents — resisted the economic sidelining typically imposed on them in early 20th-century America. Yet, their prosperity was countered with greed, brutality and theft. From the Osage Reign of Terror to the annihilation of Greenwood, economic exploitation was fortified by systemic violence.
Following a period in which the Osage were deliberately targeted, coerced into marriages and often murdered for their headrights in sheer greed, many headrights left the Osage Tribe. A century later, the repercussions of this terror persist. Currently, 25% of all headright payments, initially intended for the Osage, are received by non-Osages. A few cases involve bequeaths from Osage estates, Bloomberg News reports, but many holders — ranging from Stanford University to the Catholic Archdiocese of New York — could not or would not explain how they had come to hold headright shares. And regardless of provenance, the Osage Tribe has asked for headrights held by non-Osages to be returned.
But returning headrights barely begins to redress the wrongs done to the Osage. True justice for these communities necessitates reparations. Reparations transcend mere compensation; they embody reparative justice. They recognize past injustices, mend wounds and aspire to bridge divides.
For years, I’ve been privileged to advocate for the survivors of that calamitous day in 1921. Yet, with the recent passing of Hughes “Uncle Redd” Van Ellis, the need to secure redress for the two remaining survivors, Viola Ford Fletcher and Lessie Benningfield Randle, has become even more pressing.
Reparations for the Osage Nation and Greenwood represent not only an economic redress, but also a moral imperative. Since those fateful days more than a hundred years ago, the Tulsa community and my clients have grappled with the catastrophic effects of a massacre that obliterated a vibrant Black community, claiming hundreds of lives and displacing thousands. This event’s painful racial aftermath lingers in Tulsa, a city dear to both my clients and me — with glaring rates of poverty and health disparities in north Tulsa, where half of Black Tulsans reside. But all is not lost. Our fight for reparative justice is still “alive” as last month my team and I filed our last brief with the Oklahoma Supreme Court, asking it to reopen our case against the perpetrators of the massacre, including the city of Tulsa. Crucial to this cause are the testimonies of the two survivors, Mother Randle and Viola Fletcher, shedding light on Greenwood’s ongoing struggles. Cinema like “Killers of the Flower Moon” and television series “Watchmen” (which introduced the Tulsa Race Massacre to a fresh audience) amplify our call for justice by bridging past atrocities with present-day action. Confronted with these revelations, our shock and empathy must morph into tangible actions. Reparations for the Osage Nation and Greenwood represent not only an economic redress, but also a moral imperative. In reflecting upon these interrelated tragedies, we must collectively advocate for reparations, ensuring that history, however unsettling, is recognized and crucially never repeated. Let’s seize this moment to rectify, heal and vow that such atrocities will find no refuge in our shared future.
Damario Solomon-Simmons
Damario Solomon-Simmons is a civil rights attorney and founder and executive director of Justice for Greenwood. 
