The Reservation and Me

I know, I know, I'm a hit and run blogger. I haven't written a blog in 8 months, but I guess I just wasn't inspired the way I thought I would be.

I ran across a feature published by the Sioux Falls Argus Leader last fall, Growing Up Indian. It is the best account of what it means to be born and raised Native American on South Dakota reservations. Honestly, I had a really hard time watching the video and reading the stories. While these are not the specific families I work with daily, they are certainly similar. Life is hard for all of us, but most of us can have three meals a day and a bed. Many families on the reservations (or low income families anywhere) don't even have enough beds for everyone living in the house. The challenges they face daily are hard and many. I could spend hours, maybe even days, sharing accounts of the families I have worked with and their hardships. There are triumphs, too, but the trials seem to overshadow the happy times.

Over the last 18 years, I have come to love my families on the reservation despite the challenges I may face while trying to deliver early intervention services to their children. I don't know why I've been called to be there, but I now believe that working at Crow Creek is my calling. I now it sounds cliche. But, it hit me last week like a Mac truck. It's something that most people don't understand and maybe you can't if you've never worked with people that have so little to call their own and so much heartache. I start working with babies and I may continue to provide therapy for them until they enter kindergarten. They are my families. I have one little boy that practically jumps out of his skin when he sees me drive up and other little guys that cry when I leave.

Even when I don't realize it, I am invested in them. I have made a commitment to help them be as successful as possible. At the very least, most children go from not talking at all at age 3 to having conversations and asking peers to play with them by age 5. At best, I can dismiss a child from therapy before kindergarten (like I was able to do twice this week!) because their skills are now age-appropriate with no more delays. Nothing will bring tears to your eyes like watching a boy who one year ago barely said a word and now he speaks in sentences, asks others to play with him, and talks about what he is doing in detail. Or, the little girl who 6 months ago at age 3 was non-verbal and had tantrums so badly at the drop of a hat that everyone walked on egg shells around her. Now she is using sentences, playing Barbies with other girls, counting, and singing songs.

If I won't invest my time, energy and love into these families, who will? Too many people say the reservations are hopeless wastelands. I don't agree and I won't give up on those children. They deserve a better life. Even though I'm often discouraged or frustrated, I have knowledge that can help them. All I ask is that they listen and trust that I want what's best for them.

Please take some time to read Growing Up Indian. I hope it gives you a greater understanding of what life is really like on the SD reservations. Pidama (That's Lakota for thank you.)