Post by Okwes on Feb 23, 2006 9:14:06 GMT -5
Nurturing native Americans on campus
Nurturing native Americans on campus
Indigenous studies programs aim to reduce culture shock and improve
graduation rates of native American college students.
By Stacy A. Teicher | Staff writer of The Christian Science Monitor
February 22, 2006 edition -
www.csmonitor.com/2006/0222/p14s01-legn.html
ENLIGHTENED: Debby Tewa helps bring power to native Americans on remote
reservations. Here, she maintains solar panels at Sandia National
Laboratories in Albuquerque, N.M. Ms. Tewa left Arizona State University
in the 1980s to become an electrician, but later returned to obtain a
degree in indigenous studies. COURTESY OF RANDY MONTOYA
FLAGSTAFF, ARIZ. - Her first time around, Debby Tewa struggled through
just two years of college. Having grown up on the Hopi reservation, she
had attended schools in Arizona and California before heading to
Northern Arizona University (NAU) in Flagstaff. "I was totally
unprepared," she says. "I kind of felt lost."
It was an academic and emotional whirlwind - one that many American
Indian students encounter on large campuses. Whatever support systems
might have existed at the time, Ms. Tewa didn't know about them.
More than a decade after leaving NAU, and in midcareer as an
electrician, Tewa came back to finish her bachelor's degree. The
enhanced academic and mentoring programs she found hint at the kinds of
efforts colleges around the country may need to make to improve
retention rates for native American students.
Nationally, only about 15 percent of native American 12th-graders who
are likely to attend college actually earn a bachelor's degree within
eight years. For tribes, that makes it difficult to find people with
enough education to serve a host of critical roles, ranging from doctors
to economic-development experts.
But there's no silver bullet. For many native Americans, there's still a
sense of culture shock and missing home when they first arrive at a
university. Other obstacles include prejudice, finances, language
barriers, and alcoholism, according to a study of several dozen
successful American Indian college students in Montana in the mid-1990s.
More than 90 percent considered leaving college at some point. But the
study also gave insight into what helped them get to graduation: In
addition to the support of family and friends, the students found some
professors who were caring and culturally sensitive. The report
recommended incorporating more Indian history into the curriculum and
making sure the campus had native role models.
That's what drew Tewa back to NAU. She saw a brochure for Applied
Indigenous Studies, a program that grounds students in both traditional
native knowledge and Western academics - and equips them to apply their
skills in indigenous communities. Paired with a minor in environmental
studies, it was a perfect fit for Tewa, who had been working to bring
solar energy to parts of reservations that were still without electricity.
For the first time, Tewa's classes covered the history of native
Americans. But she also learned practical matters, like how to apply for
grants. "When I graduated [in December 2004] and became involved with
the Sandia National Laboratories [as a liaison with tribal governments],
all of the theories and the course work totally applied," she says.
The reason the indigenous studies program is so attractive? "It's
affirmation - there's now relevancy for what they're learning," says
department chair Octaviana Trujillo. Although NAU is a bit late to the
game - many universities offered native American studies in response to
activism in the 1960s and '70s - she's proud that the program was
designed in consultation with tribal leaders and has the rare status of
a full academic department. About 40 students major in it each year,
concentrating on everything from law to economics. But the department's
offerings have a much wider reach - both for native and nonnative
students and faculty.
Perhaps there's no more tangible form of outreach than the "resident
elders" on campus. A few years ago the department brought in James
Peshlakai, a Navajo "Keeper of the Way," as he calls himself (preferring
that to labels such as "medicine man"). He brings a treasure trove of
knowledge both of the songs and ceremonies that transmit Navajo culture,
and on how to straddle two worlds - his remote sheep farm, where life is
governed by the rhythms of nature, and city life, dominated by brick
buildings, clocks, and e-mail.
The story of his first semester at NAU shows the ripple effects his
presence has had. "I thought, these kids, they come off the
reservation.... I have to build their courage up to face a new life away
from their people." So his first talk was titled, "Being an Indian
youth." He was shocked when he walked into the room and found it mostly
full of white professors. "So I look around, look up, and say, 'Oh Great
Spirit ... give me the power: All of these guys want to be an Indian
youth.' So they all laughed," he says with a face-creasing smile.
It was a humorous start to a serious task - helping professors
understand their native students. Some would complain, he says, that
Indians are "uncontrollable" and do crazy things like jump out of
windows into snowbanks. Mr. Peshlakai invited them to his sheep ranch,
where they saw his grandchildren grab their bikes and disappear into a
vast landscape. "The whole desert is their playground," he says.
Peshlakai still has an edge of anger, something many native students can
relate to. "I saw my people denied life, liberty, and the pursuit of
happiness," he says. Like many in his generation, he was sent to a
boarding school where he was whipped if he was caught speaking Navajo.
He tells the students, "You have to have a college degree today," but
he's trying to make sure that they can survive in the dominant culture
without losing their heritage. "A lot of the native American students
write papers and let me critique them. I tell them sometimes, 'This is
not true.' And they say, 'I got it out of a book.' Well, it's not true."
Last fall, two more resident elders joined him - Bob Lomadafkie, a Hopi,
and Marina Vasquez, a Mayan from Mexico. "As an elder, our position is
nonthreatening, because we have no influence on their grades," Mr.
Lomadafkie says. "We encourage them to seek out tutoring, or if they
need financial help or psychological help, we can guide them to [the
right resources]."
The hope is that Indian students won't drop out when they hit a rough
patch if they can turn to these mentors. The 1,300 native students make
up about 10 percent of NAU's student body. But only 29 percent of
first-time native American freshmen graduate within six years, according
to the institutional planning office. While that's significantly higher
than the national average, it's much lower than the 46 percent rate for
the overall group of first-time freshmen at NAU.
There's also a physical structure on campus that embodies the support
network: a Navajo hogan, where talks are given and students can have
traditional ceremonies that might otherwise require a long trip home.
Located outside the building that houses the indigenous studies
department, the octagonal wooden structure was built by students and a
local nonprofit group in 2002. Peshlakai brought soil from his land to
create the hard-packed floor. In the snow nearby, branches of
traditional medicinal plants peek out, waiting to bloom again in spring.
These efforts are still too new to track their effect on student
retention, Professor Trujillo says, but there's anecdotal evidence that
makes her optimistic.
Take Temashio Anderson, a recent graduate who grew up on the Navajo and
Pomo Indian reservations. "The resident elders are very important," he
says. "Sometimes you do need somebody to talk to - that understands,
that's been through these different problems before.... They always
welcome you with open arms - kind of like your grandpa or grandma."
As a teenager, he says, he was full of anger and got into trouble with
gangs and drugs. "I stopped one day and thought about what I'd been
doing.... Everybody has some kind of vision of who they want to be ...
and I envisioned myself as maybe someone who's helpful to the community,
a mentor to the children, [someone] involved in his culture."
Now Mr. Anderson has bachelor's degrees in both environmental science
and applied indigenous studies, and he hopes to continue studying
uranium contamination on the Navajo reservation. He always consults with
native leaders and residents to shape his projects, even though it can
slow things down. That stands in contrast to a history of exploitative
research, he says. Anderson is part of a new tradition that "really
stresses that research needs to be done for the [native] people, and it
needs to ultimately benefit the people."
Statistics
166,000
The number of American Indians and Alaskan native students in higher
education in 2002, more than twice as many as in 1976.
11.5%
Percentage of the native American population age 25 and older who had at
least a bachelor's degree in 2000 (compared with 24.4 percent for the
overall population).
60%
Percentage of enrolled native Americans who are female.
56%
Percentage of native American full-time undergraduates who received
financial aid (similar to average for all groups).
0.5%
Percentage of native American full-time faculty members at
degree-granting institutions in 2001 (native Americans are about 1.5
percent of the US population).
Full HTML version of this story which may include photos, graphics, and
related links
www.csmonitor.com | Copyright © 2006 The Christian Science Monitor. All
rights reserved.
The material in this post is distributed without
profit to those who have expressed a prior interest
in receiving the included information for research
and educational purposes. For more information go to:
www4.law.cornell.edu/uscode/17/107.html
oregon.uoregon.edu/~csundt/documents.htm
If you wish to use copyrighted material from this email
for purposes that go beyond 'fair use', you must obtain
permission from the copyright owner.
Nurturing native Americans on campus
Indigenous studies programs aim to reduce culture shock and improve
graduation rates of native American college students.
By Stacy A. Teicher | Staff writer of The Christian Science Monitor
February 22, 2006 edition -
www.csmonitor.com/2006/0222/p14s01-legn.html
ENLIGHTENED: Debby Tewa helps bring power to native Americans on remote
reservations. Here, she maintains solar panels at Sandia National
Laboratories in Albuquerque, N.M. Ms. Tewa left Arizona State University
in the 1980s to become an electrician, but later returned to obtain a
degree in indigenous studies. COURTESY OF RANDY MONTOYA
FLAGSTAFF, ARIZ. - Her first time around, Debby Tewa struggled through
just two years of college. Having grown up on the Hopi reservation, she
had attended schools in Arizona and California before heading to
Northern Arizona University (NAU) in Flagstaff. "I was totally
unprepared," she says. "I kind of felt lost."
It was an academic and emotional whirlwind - one that many American
Indian students encounter on large campuses. Whatever support systems
might have existed at the time, Ms. Tewa didn't know about them.
More than a decade after leaving NAU, and in midcareer as an
electrician, Tewa came back to finish her bachelor's degree. The
enhanced academic and mentoring programs she found hint at the kinds of
efforts colleges around the country may need to make to improve
retention rates for native American students.
Nationally, only about 15 percent of native American 12th-graders who
are likely to attend college actually earn a bachelor's degree within
eight years. For tribes, that makes it difficult to find people with
enough education to serve a host of critical roles, ranging from doctors
to economic-development experts.
But there's no silver bullet. For many native Americans, there's still a
sense of culture shock and missing home when they first arrive at a
university. Other obstacles include prejudice, finances, language
barriers, and alcoholism, according to a study of several dozen
successful American Indian college students in Montana in the mid-1990s.
More than 90 percent considered leaving college at some point. But the
study also gave insight into what helped them get to graduation: In
addition to the support of family and friends, the students found some
professors who were caring and culturally sensitive. The report
recommended incorporating more Indian history into the curriculum and
making sure the campus had native role models.
That's what drew Tewa back to NAU. She saw a brochure for Applied
Indigenous Studies, a program that grounds students in both traditional
native knowledge and Western academics - and equips them to apply their
skills in indigenous communities. Paired with a minor in environmental
studies, it was a perfect fit for Tewa, who had been working to bring
solar energy to parts of reservations that were still without electricity.
For the first time, Tewa's classes covered the history of native
Americans. But she also learned practical matters, like how to apply for
grants. "When I graduated [in December 2004] and became involved with
the Sandia National Laboratories [as a liaison with tribal governments],
all of the theories and the course work totally applied," she says.
The reason the indigenous studies program is so attractive? "It's
affirmation - there's now relevancy for what they're learning," says
department chair Octaviana Trujillo. Although NAU is a bit late to the
game - many universities offered native American studies in response to
activism in the 1960s and '70s - she's proud that the program was
designed in consultation with tribal leaders and has the rare status of
a full academic department. About 40 students major in it each year,
concentrating on everything from law to economics. But the department's
offerings have a much wider reach - both for native and nonnative
students and faculty.
Perhaps there's no more tangible form of outreach than the "resident
elders" on campus. A few years ago the department brought in James
Peshlakai, a Navajo "Keeper of the Way," as he calls himself (preferring
that to labels such as "medicine man"). He brings a treasure trove of
knowledge both of the songs and ceremonies that transmit Navajo culture,
and on how to straddle two worlds - his remote sheep farm, where life is
governed by the rhythms of nature, and city life, dominated by brick
buildings, clocks, and e-mail.
The story of his first semester at NAU shows the ripple effects his
presence has had. "I thought, these kids, they come off the
reservation.... I have to build their courage up to face a new life away
from their people." So his first talk was titled, "Being an Indian
youth." He was shocked when he walked into the room and found it mostly
full of white professors. "So I look around, look up, and say, 'Oh Great
Spirit ... give me the power: All of these guys want to be an Indian
youth.' So they all laughed," he says with a face-creasing smile.
It was a humorous start to a serious task - helping professors
understand their native students. Some would complain, he says, that
Indians are "uncontrollable" and do crazy things like jump out of
windows into snowbanks. Mr. Peshlakai invited them to his sheep ranch,
where they saw his grandchildren grab their bikes and disappear into a
vast landscape. "The whole desert is their playground," he says.
Peshlakai still has an edge of anger, something many native students can
relate to. "I saw my people denied life, liberty, and the pursuit of
happiness," he says. Like many in his generation, he was sent to a
boarding school where he was whipped if he was caught speaking Navajo.
He tells the students, "You have to have a college degree today," but
he's trying to make sure that they can survive in the dominant culture
without losing their heritage. "A lot of the native American students
write papers and let me critique them. I tell them sometimes, 'This is
not true.' And they say, 'I got it out of a book.' Well, it's not true."
Last fall, two more resident elders joined him - Bob Lomadafkie, a Hopi,
and Marina Vasquez, a Mayan from Mexico. "As an elder, our position is
nonthreatening, because we have no influence on their grades," Mr.
Lomadafkie says. "We encourage them to seek out tutoring, or if they
need financial help or psychological help, we can guide them to [the
right resources]."
The hope is that Indian students won't drop out when they hit a rough
patch if they can turn to these mentors. The 1,300 native students make
up about 10 percent of NAU's student body. But only 29 percent of
first-time native American freshmen graduate within six years, according
to the institutional planning office. While that's significantly higher
than the national average, it's much lower than the 46 percent rate for
the overall group of first-time freshmen at NAU.
There's also a physical structure on campus that embodies the support
network: a Navajo hogan, where talks are given and students can have
traditional ceremonies that might otherwise require a long trip home.
Located outside the building that houses the indigenous studies
department, the octagonal wooden structure was built by students and a
local nonprofit group in 2002. Peshlakai brought soil from his land to
create the hard-packed floor. In the snow nearby, branches of
traditional medicinal plants peek out, waiting to bloom again in spring.
These efforts are still too new to track their effect on student
retention, Professor Trujillo says, but there's anecdotal evidence that
makes her optimistic.
Take Temashio Anderson, a recent graduate who grew up on the Navajo and
Pomo Indian reservations. "The resident elders are very important," he
says. "Sometimes you do need somebody to talk to - that understands,
that's been through these different problems before.... They always
welcome you with open arms - kind of like your grandpa or grandma."
As a teenager, he says, he was full of anger and got into trouble with
gangs and drugs. "I stopped one day and thought about what I'd been
doing.... Everybody has some kind of vision of who they want to be ...
and I envisioned myself as maybe someone who's helpful to the community,
a mentor to the children, [someone] involved in his culture."
Now Mr. Anderson has bachelor's degrees in both environmental science
and applied indigenous studies, and he hopes to continue studying
uranium contamination on the Navajo reservation. He always consults with
native leaders and residents to shape his projects, even though it can
slow things down. That stands in contrast to a history of exploitative
research, he says. Anderson is part of a new tradition that "really
stresses that research needs to be done for the [native] people, and it
needs to ultimately benefit the people."
Statistics
166,000
The number of American Indians and Alaskan native students in higher
education in 2002, more than twice as many as in 1976.
11.5%
Percentage of the native American population age 25 and older who had at
least a bachelor's degree in 2000 (compared with 24.4 percent for the
overall population).
60%
Percentage of enrolled native Americans who are female.
56%
Percentage of native American full-time undergraduates who received
financial aid (similar to average for all groups).
0.5%
Percentage of native American full-time faculty members at
degree-granting institutions in 2001 (native Americans are about 1.5
percent of the US population).
Full HTML version of this story which may include photos, graphics, and
related links
www.csmonitor.com | Copyright © 2006 The Christian Science Monitor. All
rights reserved.
The material in this post is distributed without
profit to those who have expressed a prior interest
in receiving the included information for research
and educational purposes. For more information go to:
www4.law.cornell.edu/uscode/17/107.html
oregon.uoregon.edu/~csundt/documents.htm
If you wish to use copyrighted material from this email
for purposes that go beyond 'fair use', you must obtain
permission from the copyright owner.