Life On America's Reservations: In Stormy Times, Look For Rainbows

"An enormous grayish-purple cloud sweeps over the golden-brown rolling hills of the plains, cascades through the expansive sky and merges with the yellow horizon," American Indian filmmaker Chris Eyre writes in the latest issues of Smithsonian magazine, describing the awe he continues to feel at the untouched beauty of reservation land.

His words resonate with me — as a guest living with and working for the Oglala Lakota this summer in South Dakota, my heart still leaps every evening as I roll home down the interstate, chasing the fiery sunset and wondering how I ever lived without it. Driving to my apartment yesterday at sunset, I watched a lightning show unfolding outside my windshield as if my truck was an Imax theater made by Chevrolet. As I drove into the storm, the soothing sound of raindrops filled the cab of my truck. Billowing black clouds tumbled across the biggest sky I've ever seen for every one of the 50 miles between me and my destination. Breathtaking.

In his article, Eyre characterizes media coverage of Indian reservations as concentrating "solely on poverty and the cycle of oppression." As a member of the media myself, I have to admit that he is right. Early entries in the blog I keep to chronicle my time on the Pine Ridge Reservation tended to focus on how hopeless I felt in the face of rampant poverty, child abuse and alcoholism. As an outsider, that's all I could see. But as my days here melted into weeks and now months, I became witness to and even participant in the vibrant fabric of tradition.

Today, I look out over this reservation and see what Eyre sees in his own: "laughter, love, smiles, constant joking and humor and the unbreakable strength of the tribal spirit." So Mr. Eyre, here is a media tribute to the beauty of the reservation — its land, its customs, but most importantly, its people.

If you look, you'll see that native culture is still very much alive on many reservations, even in institutions that resemble American practices. In the Oglala Sioux Tribe Child and Family Code, I see not only laws governing jurisdiction in child custody cases, but also guidelines on how to address family members and conduct the Seven Sacred Ceremonies of Lakota tradition. The Iroquois National Lacrosse Team, ranked fourth in the world, asserts its sovereignty by traveling with tribal Haudenosaunee passports. When these documents are refused — even in high-stakes situations like the world championships in England last week — the team does not go. This is the "unbreakable strength of the tribal spirit" that Eyre describes.

In the workplace, time off is regularly given for spiritual leave; events like powwows, the Lakota Sundances and family ceremonies are (rightfully) legitimate reasons to miss work. Tradition even translates into companies' missions: for example, the child advocacy group I work for, a branch of the National CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocates) Association, seamlessly blends purification and healing ceremonies in the sweat lodge with Western psychotherapy to form culturally relevant sources of therapy for native children.

Yes, Indian reservations are some of the most impoverished places in America. Addictions, abuse, suicide, high school dropouts and gang violence rates are often frightening in scope. I do not suggest that we pretend these problems don't exist. What I do suggest is that we do not pretend that these problems are the only things that exist. And people like Chris Eyre, along with programs like The Harvard Project on American Indian Economic Development, which annually recognizes excellence in tribal governance and cultural programs, are doing something very, very right by encouraging perspectives that cultivate hope.

As the raindrops cleared on the road that evening, streaks of sunlight burst through the rolling clouds. And just around the bend that would lead me home, my last gift: a double rainbow spanning the entire Dakota sky.

Photo credit: Ashley Eberhart (taken on the Pine Ridge Reservation, near Wounded Knee)