The Morning Journal (Lorain, OH)

Ex-boarding school for Native children owning up to past

- By Peter Smith

PINE RIDGE, S.D. » Middle schooler Rarity Cournoyer stood at the heart of the Red Cloud Indian School campus and chanted a prayer song firmly and solemnly in the Lakota language — in a place where past generation­s of students were punished for speaking their mother tongue.

Her classmates stood around her at a prayer circle designed with archetypes of Native American spirituali­ty, with a circular sidewalk representi­ng a traditiona­l medicine wheel, crossed by sidewalks pointing to the four cardinal directions.

Lakota language teacher Amery Brave Heart walked quietly with a small bundle of smoldering sage stems. Brave Heart — sporting a long braid on the very campus where his grandfathe­r, Basil Brave Heart, said he had his long hair shorn and carelessly trampled on as a newly arrived pupil — offered the sage to each student as part of a brief smudging or purificati­on ritual, in which they symbolical­ly waved the scented smoke toward themselves.

Such scenes would have been hard to imagine here decades ago when Holy Rosary Mission — as the Catholic K-12 school was then named — formed part of a network of boarding schools across North America where generation­s of Indigenous children were brought to weaken their bonds to tribe and family and assimilate them into the dominant white, English-speaking, Christian culture.

But while Lakota staff, language and ritual have increasing­ly become central to Red Cloud, the 133-year-old school has never fully reckoned with this history, which has alienated many Lakota living on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservatio­n, one of the nation’s largest.

Now the school is undertakin­g what it calls a Truth and Healing process, seeking to hear the stories of former students, open its archives and face its past.

“I’m so proud of who we are today, the direction Red Cloud is heading in. That’s the beautiful part,” said Tashina Banks Rama, the school’s vice president for advancemen­t. “The tough part is we have to confront ... the dark history of boarding school policies and our role in that policy.”

The ceremony at the prayer circle was a way of acknowledg­ing that history, one of several small gatherings held at Red Cloud on the last day of September to mark what’s come to be known across North America as Orange Shirt Day.

Many students and teachers wore orange in solidarity with Indigenous children of past generation­s who suffered cultural loss, family rupture and sometimes abuse and neglect while compelled to attend residentia­l schools from the late 19th to the mid-20th centuries.

The event commemorat­es the long-ago account of an Indigenous woman in Canada whose residentia­l school confiscate­d her orange shirt — a cherished gift from her grandmothe­r — and made her wear a uniform.

“Our ancestors faced a lot in their time, but they remained resilient,” Red Cloud senior Mia Murdoch told fellow students during the high school’s observance. “They weren’t allowed to express themselves or to rejoice in who they were. We as young people now have those privileges . ... Orange Shirt Day is not just a single day. It is a confrontat­ion of the past and a conversati­on that takes place over a long period.”

The school’s Truth and Healing process, begun in 2020, is following four steps described as confrontat­ion, understand­ing, healing and transforma­tion.

“We’re really in the early stages of confrontat­ion,” said Maka Black Elk, executive director for Truth and Healing at Red Cloud.

“I think people want to rush quickly to healing because it’s hopeful ... but there’s a lot more that needs to happen before we can,” he said.

That includes giving former students a chance to tell their stories, whether in public settings or confidenti­ally.

It will also involve a deep dive into school archives. “The stories that records and archives tell are sometimes ones that we don’t want to hear,” Black Elk said.

The Truth and Healing process comes amid largerscal­e reckonings by government­s and church groups that ran residentia­l schools.

Earlier this year in Canada, specialist­s using ground-penetratin­g radar discovered hundreds of unmarked graves at former school sites. The discoverie­s reopened historical wounds years after a 2015 report by the Truth and Reconcilia­tion Commission of Canada said residentia­l schools were often abusive, unsanitary and unsafe, where children died from disease and fires “in numbers that would not have been tolerated” anywhere else.

While school conditions varied across the U.S. and Canada, and some former students say they had positive experience­s, even schools with better track records were serving in the larger project of cultural assimilati­on — what some call cultural genocide.

At least 367 such boarding schools once operated across the United States, about 40 percent of them affiliated with Catholic or Protestant churches, according to the National Native American Boarding School Healing Coalition. Most have closed, and most of the remaining ones, including Red Cloud, no longer board students overnight.

Holy Rosary, long staffed by Jesuit brothers and Franciscan nuns, boarded students for nearly a century after its founding in 1888. Its current name comes from the 19th-century Lakota warrior and chief who long fought against U.S. land grabs before his people were confined to the reservatio­n, and who later invited the Jesuits to start the school and converted to Catholicis­m.

A small group of Jesuits remain, but much else has changed at what is now a day school, with buses fanning out across the sprawling reservatio­n to bring students to the main campus and an elementary school about 30 miles away. K-12 enrollment on both campuses totals about 600.

Still, the wounds of earlier generation­s continue to fester for many on the reservatio­n.

“This is something that people in the community who are from here have known about for a long time,” Black Elk said. “It’s their family history.”

That family history is also motivating a group of high school students at Red Cloud to add their voices to the Truth and Healing process. They’re raising awareness of the history and helping with ceremonies honoring their forebears and others who went to boarding schools.

“We’re trying to heal from what they did to them, because that intergener­ational trauma is still with us,” said Destiny Big Crow, a junior. “I also want to bring that healing around to my community.” One path to healing, she said is “by learning the language and learning the traditions, learning what they took away from us.”

Lakota language instructio­n is now woven into the curriculum. On a recent day, students in one high school class competed to complete a series of translatio­ns the fastest.

“Help each other out, work together,” teacher Roger White Eyes urged as he moved from desk to desk.

“It’s just awesome to hear the language spoken by the youth,” said White Eyes, wearing a T-shirt and face mask with Red Cloud logos. “For me, growing up, you never heard it” except among elders.

Across the campus, elementary students sat in a classroom where they learn most of their subjects in a Lakota immersion program.

Teacher Randilynn Boucher-Giago presented a slideshow on the boarding school legacy. Afterward the students gathered around a drum and joined in a pulsing, full-throated Lakota chant.

Boucher-Giago said she incorporat­ed the chant into the lesson to tell the students: “You speak Lakota, you sing in Lakota. Our grandparen­ts had suffered, but now you’re turning that around.”

As a Catholic school, Red Cloud also represents something larger.

“We also have to address a very dynamic and complex relationsh­ip between Indigenous people as a whole and the greater Catholic Church, and what that church represents for colonial history,” Black Elk said. “And so we’re kind of ground zero for an intercultu­ral and interrelig­ious dialogue.”

It’s a complex picture, because some Lakota are Catholics and some follow Lakota spiritual traditions, while others practice both and still others belong to different faiths. The school teaches about both Catholicis­m and Lakota beliefs in its religion classes.

 ?? EMILY LESHNER — THE ASSOCIATED PRESS ?? Multi-immersion teacher Randilynn Boucher-Giago addresses students at an assembly for Orange Shirt Day on Sept. 30, in Pine Ridge, S.D. Students and teachers wore orange in solidarity with Indigenous children of past generation­s who suffered cultural loss, family separation and sometimes abuse and neglect while compelled to attend hundreds of residentia­l schools that once dotted the map across the United States and Canada from the late 19th to the mid-20th centuries.
EMILY LESHNER — THE ASSOCIATED PRESS Multi-immersion teacher Randilynn Boucher-Giago addresses students at an assembly for Orange Shirt Day on Sept. 30, in Pine Ridge, S.D. Students and teachers wore orange in solidarity with Indigenous children of past generation­s who suffered cultural loss, family separation and sometimes abuse and neglect while compelled to attend hundreds of residentia­l schools that once dotted the map across the United States and Canada from the late 19th to the mid-20th centuries.

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