Meth Takes A Toll on Indian Reservations

Meth Takes a Toll on Indian Reservations

By MARY CLARE JALONICK
.c The Associated Press

WASHINGTON (AP) - Leah Fyten believes every family on her South Dakota reservation has been affected by methamphetamine use. The drug has torn apart these families, led to increases in crime and bumped mortality rates. And now, the director of the Flandreau Santee Sioux Housing Authority says, it's affecting the reservation's already desperate housing situation.

Housing is not only ruined by meth labs, which are highly poisonous and often difficult to spot, but also by the destructive habits that often accompany drug use. The housing authority on the Flandreau reservation has spent countless dollars fixing up holes in the walls, broken windows, ruined appliances and other damage wrought by the violent habits of drug users, Fyten said.

``We have a small budget that decreases every year and families are growing,'' she said. ``Housing gets worse every year. And to try to repair houses that are damaged by alcohol and drug abuse puts a strain on your budget.''

Last year, Fyten's reservation recruited Jay Barton to help alleviate the problem. Barton, an Oklahoma police officer who also works for the National American Indian Housing Council, is traveling around the country teaching Indian housing officials what the drug does and how to spot it. Fyten and others say the council's seminars are breaking through in communities that have so far ignored and denied the problem, helping reservations lessen meth's collateral damage.

Barton likes to say he is shocking his students out of complacency.

``The response has been tremendous,'' he said. ``Especially with the funding cuts that tribes have received, this is really important.''

Barton teaches his students all about the drug - its effects, its origins, its market and its chemistry. He shows them pictures of users with their teeth rotting out and tells them about the drug's poisonous effect on children who come anywhere near it.

Statistics on Indian meth use are scarce, but an administration survey found in 2004 that almost 2 percent of the American Indian population was using meth. Robert McSwain, deputy director of the Indian Health Service, told a congressional panel earlier this month that the rate of Indians using meth appears to have dramatically increased in the past five years.

This poses a major problem for states and Indian reservations, Barton said, as some states have passed laws that essentially punish property owners for meth contamination. Some landlords - including Indian housing authorities - have been forced to pay for cleanup of meth labs, which can cost thousands of dollars.

In addition, few states have published standards for cleanup. Congress is pushing the Environmental Protection Agency to develop federal guidelines, as there is still some confusion about the effects of chemicals involved in producing the drug.

Because it is often up to the reservations to pick up the work and also the tab, and because most of these reservations have dramatic housing shortages, Barton said there is a critical need for education about meth.

Indian housing has been a problem for decades. According to a 2003 survey, an estimated 200,000 housing units are needed immediately in Indian country and approximately 90,000 Indian families are homeless or ``under-housed.''

``If we can make them aware of the costs and also the people that are abusing meth, then hopefully we can cut down on the costs,'' Barton said.

His seminars have led to at least one drug bust in Juneau, Alaska, where a maintenance worker who had attended a seminar identified a meth lab in his hotel.

Ron Peltier, director of the Turtle Mountain Housing Authority in North Dakota, said he hopes Barton, who gave a seminar there in early May, will be able to similarly help his reservation.

``We have a lot of workers who are unaware of how meth labs look, and we have a feeling that some of our units are being used,'' Peltier said. ``We hear a lot of rumors. But when we go there, we don't know what to look for.''

Joe Shirley Jr., president of the Navajo Nation in Arizona, says training people to spot the drug is paramount because meth is ``cutting into the kinship we have as Navajo people.''

``If you can't catch them there's no way to treat them,'' he said.

Despite their success, federal cuts to Indian programs have threatened Barton's seminars. He conducted about 50 last year, but he said fewer are scheduled in 2006 because of less federal money allocated for the National American Indian Housing Council, a quasi-government organization. After that, Barton said, organizers will have to come up with some sort of alternative.

The meth problem in Indian country has shown few signs of slowing, however. At the congressional hearing earlier this year, McSwain said the situation could be described in a single word: ``crisis.''

``I think what we are seeing now is that if communities don't take action it's going to get a whole lot worse,'' said Fyten. ``It's very sad and it's very scary. People have to wake up. There's a lot of people that don't understand meth and how to detect it.''

On the Net:

National American Indian Housing Council: http://naihc.net/

Indian Health Service: http://www.ihs.gov/



06/12/06 02:16 EDT
   

Copyright 2004 The Associated Press. The information contained in the AP news report may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or otherwise distributed without the prior written authority of The Associated Press.  All active hyperlinks have been inserted by AOL.

Tribal Colleges Filling Growing Need

Tribal Colleges Filling Growing Need


By SHAUN SCHAFER
.c The Associated Press

PAWNEE, Okla. (AP) - With two small children to support, Cedric Sunray doesn't have much time to pursue a college degree.

But a desire to learn how to teach American Indian languages and determination to build a better life drove Sunray to be one of 90 people enrolled at Pawnee Nation College when it started classes last fall.

``I wouldn't do it anywhere else,'' said Sunray, who speaks Cherokee, Choctaw and Pawnee. ``Tribal colleges offer classes that are historically not offered anywhere and tribal colleges depend on work force students.''

Tribal colleges - schools owned and run by Indian tribes that are often located on reservations - are growing, stemming in part from economic clout spurred in some cases by Indian gaming and a desire by tribes to validate their sovereign status.

There were no tribal colleges in the U.S. before 1968, but today there are more than three dozen and one in Canada.

``It's been a slow process, but we are happy to be where we are,'' said Gerald Gipp, executive director of the American Indian Higher Education Consortium. ``We're going through a real learning process of operating our schools and reversing decades of neglect.''

Tribal colleges developed along with an increase in American Indians seeking higher education. American Indian enrollment in universities has more than doubled in the past 25 years, according to the National Center for Education Statistics. That included a 62 percent increase in enrollment at tribal colleges in the past decade, according to the higher education consortium.

Todd Fuller, president of Pawnee Nation College, said those numbers should continue to grow. He said he expected enrollment at his college to increase at least 40 percent this fall.

Tribal colleges may be the last chance to save some native languages, said Quinton Roman Nose, education director of the Cheyenne-Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma. He is helping develop a tribal college on the campus of Southwestern Oklahoma State University in Weatherford.

``Some tribes have their own syllabary. Others have languages that aren't written. This is a really complicated area to try and preserve and teach a language,'' Roman Nose said. ``There's a great need and this is one way of meeting it.''

Course offerings reflect tribal goals. In Oklahoma, the College of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation offers Creek classes, while Wind River Tribal College in Wyoming teaches Arapaho.

Nebraska Indian Community College offers an associate's degree in tribal business management. In South Dakota, Sinte Gleska University's Lakota Studies Department has been integrating Lakota values into academics since 1973, for example, adjusting class times to allow for tribal obligations.

The institutions, however, sometimes face an uncertain future. Characterized by rural isolation, limited property tax bases, and neglect from state governments, growth of tribal colleges has been uneven. At least seven have failed in the past 25 years.

But during that time, another 17 tribal colleges opened. They keep appearing because there is a need, said Roman Nose, whose great-grandfather, Henry, attended Carlisle Indian School in Pennsylvania.

``Even our own tribal members ask 'Why do we need to do this?''' Roman Nose said. ``We have needs that can't be met any other way.''

Sunray, who is learning how to teach languages to students in kindergarten through 12th grade and how to administer an accredited language program, said tribal colleges offer a unique challenge.

``There are no excuses at a tribal college,'' Sunray said. ``You can't look at a teacher and say he doesn't like me because of so-and-so.''

Instead of having a white instructor, students likely will have a tribal member as a teacher, he said. They're not there to get rich, but to make a difference, Sunray said.

``They are going to make you work,'' he said.

On the Net:

Pawnee Nation College: http://pawneenationacademy.org

College of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation: http://www.muscogeenation-nsn.gov/college/humdev-colleg-class.htm

Sinte Gleska University: http://www.sinte.edu

American Indian Higher Education Consortium: http://www.aihec.org



06/20/06 04:19 EDT
   

Copyright 2004 The Associated Press. The information contained in the AP news report may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or otherwise distributed without the prior written authority of The Associated Press.  All active hyperlinks have been inserted by AOL.

I Am The Blood Left Standing

I Am The Blood Left Standing
~Marge Tindal~  © 1999
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hear the voice of the Cherokee
crying out in the night.
I hear the voice of the lone wolf answer.
Is this also my plight?

On the horizon of many moons,
I see the legends and hear them speak.
I cry the tears of the Cherokee,
they run freely down my cheek.

You cannot take back
what you have lost...
or what has been taken from you.
You can only ask the spirits
to somehow see you through.

For it is written in Cherokee blood
spilled upon the land...
I am the blood left standing.
I hold the future in my hand.

I will not crawl or grovel
meekly this time.
But I will not be denied...
that which is mine.

My forefather's left the spirits
to guide me to this place...
perhaps to prove to you
I am also part of this human race.

So look me in the eye,
meet my gaze forthright.
I am declaring my heritage,
my birth and my right.

'Finder's keepers'.
'Loser's weepers'.
I don't subscribe to this rhyme.
Return to me what you took.
Return what is rightfully mine.

I will not speak with tongue that is forked.
I know what I must do.
You do not 'give' me anything...
I have earned my due.

Don't stand on your throne of empowerment
and claim how generous you've been.
The spirit guardian of the history books
know where you have sinned.

Unless you have the blood
of the Cherokee coursing through your veins,
do not pass judgement on me,
do not with cursed accusations speak my name.

I am the love that lay in the hearts
of all Cherokee who walked the trail.
I am the love of the Cherokee
when I hear their spirits wail.

Take what you will, but remember,
I am protected like you.
And all the spirits of the Cherokee...
speak with your God too.

God of the earth.
God of the sky.
God of the sun and the rain.
All the God's of the Cherokee...
know my name.

I have summoned the spirits
to take mercy on your soul.
The spirits have spoken...
the story is told.

All Rights Reserved Marge

Diana Elizabeth Stanley Paintings 

from the site:

My Cyber World

THE TREE-BOUND

 THE TREE-BOUND

 

IT was a clear summer day. The blue, blue sky dropped low over the edge of the green level land. A large yellow sun hung directly overhead.

The singing of birds filled the summer space between earth and sky with sweet music. Again and again sang a yellow- breasted birdie -- "Koda Ni Dakota!" He insisted upon it. "Koda Ni Dakota!" which was "Friend, you're a Dakota! Friend, you're a Dakota!" Perchance the birdie meant the avenger with the magic arrow, for there across the plain he strode. He was handsome in his paint and feathers, proud with his great buckskin quiver on his back and a long bow in his hand. Afar to an eastern camp of cone-shaped teepees he was going. There over the Indian village hovered a large red eagle threatening the safety of the people. Every morning rose this terrible red bird out of a high chalk bluff and spreading out his gigantic wings soared slowly over the round camp ground. Then it was that the people, terror-stricken, ran screaming into their lodges. Covering their heads with their blankets, they sat trembling with fear. No one dared to venture out till the red eagle had disappeared beyond the west, where meet the blue and green.

In vain tried the chieftain of the tribe to find among his warriors a powerful marks- man who could send a death arrow to the man-hungry bird. At last to urge his men to their utmost skill he bade his crier proclaim a new reward.

Of the chieftain's two beautiful daughters he would have his choice who brought the dreaded red eagle with an arrow in its breast.

Upon hearing these words, the men of the village, both young and old, both heroes and cowards, trimmed new arrows for the contest. At gray dawn there stood indistinct under the shadow of the bluff many human figures; silent as ghosts and wrapped in robes girdled tight about their waists, they waited with chosen bow and arrow.

Some cunning old warriors stayed not with the group. They crouched low upon the open ground. But all eyes alike were fixed upon the top of the high bluff. Breathless they watched for the soaring of the red eagle.

From within the dwellings many eyes peeped through the small holes in the front lapels of the teepee. With shaking knees and hard-set teeth, the women peered out upon the Dakota men prowling about with bows and arrows.

At length when the morning sun also peeped over the eastern horizon at the armed Dakotas, the red eagle walked out upon the edge of the cliff. Pluming his gorgeous feathers, he ruffled his neck and flapped his strong wings together. Then he dived into the air. Slowly he winged his way over the round camp ground; over the men with their strong bows and arrows! In an instant the long bows were bent. Strong straight arrows with red feathered tips sped upward to the blue sky. Ah! slowly moved those indifferent wings, untouched by the poison-beaked arrows. Off to the west beyond the reach of arrow, beyond the reach of eye, the red eagle flew away.

A sudden clamor of high-pitched voices broke the deadly stillness of the dawn. The women talked excitedly about the invulnerable red of the eagle's feathers, while the would-be heroes sulked within their wigwams. "He-he-he!" groaned the chieftain.

On the evening of the same day sat a group of hunters around a bright burning fire. They were talking of a strange young man whom they spied while out upon a hunt for deer beyond the bluffs. They saw the stranger taking aim. Following the point of his arrow with their eyes, they beheld a herd of buffalo. The arrow sprang from the bow! It darted into the skull of the foremost buffalo. But unlike other arrows it pierced through the head of the creature and spinning in the air lit into the next buffalo head. One by one the buffalo fell upon the sweet grass they were grazing. With straight quivering limbs they lay on their sides. The young man stood calmly by, counting on his fingers the buffalo as they dropped dead to the ground. When the last one fell, he ran thither and picking up his magic arrow wiped it carefully on the soft grass. He slipped it into his long fringed quiver.

"He is going to make a feast for some hungry tribe of men or beasts!" cried the hunters among themselves as they hastened away.

They were afraid of the stranger with the sacred arrow. When the hunter's tale of the stranger's arrow reached the ears of the chieftain, his face brightened with a smile. He sent forth fleet horsemen, to learn of him his birth, his name, and his deeds.

"If he is the avenger with the magic arrow, sprung up from the earth out of a clot of buffalo blood, bid him come hither. Let him kill the red eagle with his magic arrow. Let him win for himself one of my beautiful daughters," he had said to his messengers, for the old story of the badger's man-son was known all over the level lands.

After four days and nights the braves returned. "He is coming," they said. "We The Tree-Bound have seen him. He is straight and tall; handsome in face, with large black eyes. He paints his round cheeks with bright red, and wears the penciled lines of red over his temples like our men of honored rank. He carries on his back a long fringed quiver in which he keeps his magic arrow. His bow is long and strong. He is coming now to kill the big red eagle." All around the camp ground from mouth to ear passed those words of the returned messengers.

Now it chanced that immortal Iktomi, fully recovered from the brown burnt spots, overheard the people talking. At once he was filled with a new desire. "If only I had the magic arrow, I would kill the red eagle and win the chieftain's daughter for a wife," said he in his heart.

Back to his lonely wigwam he hastened. Beneath the tree in front of his teepee he sat upon the ground with chin between his drawn-up knees. His keen eyes scanned the wide plain. He was watching for the avenger.

"'He is coming!' said the people," muttered old Iktomi. All of a sudden he raised an open palm to his brow and peered afar into the west. The summer sun hung bright in the middle of a cloudless sky. There across the green prairie was a man walking bareheaded toward the east.

"Ha! ha! 'tis he! the man with the magic arrow!" laughed Iktomi. And when the bird with the yellow breast sang loud again -- "Koda Ni Dakota! Friend, you're a Dakota!" Iktomi put his hand over his mouth as he threw his head far backward, laughing at both the bird and man.

"He is your friend, but his arrow will kill one of your kind! He is a Dakota, but soon he'll grow into the bark on this tree! Ha! ha! ha!" he laughed again.

The young avenger walked with swaying strides nearer and nearer toward the lonely wigwam and tree. Iktomi heard the swish! swish! of the stranger's feet through the tall grass. He was passing now beyond the tree, when Iktomi, springing to his feet, called out: "How, how, my friend! I see you are dressed in handsome deerskins and have red paint on your cheeks. You are going to some feast or dance, may I ask?" Seeing the young man only smiled Iktomi went on: "I have not had a mouthful of food this day. Have pity on me, young brave, and shoot yonder bird for me!" With these words Iktomi pointed toward the tree-top, where sat a bird on the highest branch. The young avenger, always ready to help those in distress, sent an arrow upward and the bird fell. In the next branch it was caught between the forked prongs.

"My friend, climb the tree and get the bird. I cannot climb so high. I would get dizzy and fall," pleaded Iktomi. The avenger began to scale the tree, when Iktomi cried to him: "My friend, your beaded buckskins may be torn by the branches. Leave them safe upon the grass till you are down again."

"You are right," replied the young man, quickly slipping off his long fringed quiver. Together with his dangling pouches and tinkling ornaments, he placed it on the ground. Now he climbed the tree unhindered. Soon from the top he took the bird. "My friend, toss to me your arrow that I may have the honor of wiping it clean on soft deerskin!" exclaimed Iktomi.

"How!" said the brave, and threw the bird and arrow to the ground.

At once Iktomi seized the arrow. Rubbing it first on the grass and then on a piece of deerskin, he muttered indistinct words all the while. The young man, stepping downward from limb to limb, hearing the low muttering, said: "Iktomi, I cannot hear what you say!"

"Oh, my friend, I was only talking of your big heart."

Again stooping over the arrow Iktomi continued his repetition of charm words. "Grow fast, grow fast to the bark of the tree," he whispered. Still the young man moved slowly downward. Suddenly dropping the arrow and standing erect, Iktomi said aloud: "Grow fast to the bark of the tree!" Before the brave could leap from the tree he became tight-grown to the bark.

"Ah! ha!" laughed the bad Iktomi. "I have the magic arrow! I have the beaded buckskins of the great avenger!" Hooting and dancing beneath the tree, he said: "I shall kill the red eagle; I shall wed the chieftain's beautiful daughter!"

"Oh, Iktomi, set me free!" begged the tree-bound Dakota brave. But Iktomi's ears were like the fungus on a tree. He did not hear with them.

Wearing the handsome buckskins and carrying proudly the magic arrow in his right hand, he started off eastward. Imitating the swaying strides of the avenger, he walked away with a face turned slightly skyward.

"Oh, set me free! I am glued to the tree like its own bark! Cut me loose!" moaned the prisoner.

A young woman, carrying on her strong back a bundle of tightly bound willow sticks, passed near by the lonely teepee. She heard the wailing man's voice. She paused to listen to the sad words. Looking around she saw nowhere a human creature. "It may be a spirit," thought she.

"Oh! cut me loose! set me free! Iktomi has played me false! He has made me bark of his tree!" cried the voice again.

The young woman dropped her pack of firewood to the ground. With her stone axe she hurried to the tree. There before her astonished eyes clung a young brave close to the tree.

Too shy for words, yet too kind-hearted to leave the stranger tree-bound, she cut loose the whole bark. Like an open jacket she drew it to the ground. With it came the young man also. Free once more, he started away. Looking backward, a few paces from the young woman, he waved his hand, upward and downward, before her face. This was a sign of gratitude used when words failed to interpret strong emotion.

When the bewildered woman reached her dwelling, she mounted a pony and rode swiftly across the rolling land. To the camp ground in the east, to the chieftain troubled by the red eagle, she carried her story.