Karbon Kounty Moos

This is from Kent Nerburn’s Blog

March 21, 2005
Red Lake Redux: They are all our children

I know I just wrote on this, but it is bothering me deeply. So I penned off an editorial to the New York Times. I doubt they will use it, but I thought I would share it with you. And if any of you have local papers that would like to use it, feel free to pass it on to them. I recognize that it would need editing to suit local conditions.

They are all our children

I awoke this morning to the leafy richness of an Oxford University spring day, far from the cold confines of my northern Minnesota home. I am here across the pond with a group of students from a small Minnesota university who are having their lives changed by a series of brilliant lectures and a city of timeless civility.

But as I sit here another group of students from the Red Lake reservation near my home town in Bemidji, Minnesota are also having their lives changed. But those changes are coming at the hand of a student who walked through the hallways of a high school where I once taught and aimed a gun at the teachers with whom I once worked and the children of parents with whom I have shared tables and friendship.

It is a sad and tragic and story, made all the more poignant by my knowledge of the people, the reservation, and the land on which this all took place. I wish there was something I could do.

But I cannot reach across to my friends; I cannot share the grief of the Red Lake community that I have grown to know and love. What I can do is reach out to those of you in your cities and homes and commuter trains and ask you to watch.

Watch as the journalists and t.v. reporters fly out from their home cities, land in Minneapolis, catch a commuter flight to the small airport in the forests of Bemidji, and drive their rental cars thirty miles north through the pine and popple to the Red Lake Reservation. Watch them as they go to the small convenience store, interview a few folks, and push their way as near as possible to the school building that sits on the gravel parking area near the edge of the great northern lake that gives the reservation its name.

Watch them go into the tribal offices, try to interview the tribal chairman, a young man with a dream of making his reservation a better place, and then scurry back on the dark country roads to their hotels in Bemidji and where they can issue dispatches about a student caught in a culture of poverty and hopelessness on a rural reservation.

It will all be quite earnest and at least partially true. But it will not get to the heart of the matter. It will not show the love and sense of family that is at the core of the reservation. Nor will it will reveal the unique sense of grief that fills a culture where the drum is the metaphor for community — when the drumhead is struck in one place, the whole membrane shudders and the sound reverberates everywhere.

What it will do, I’m afraid, is reduce this tragedy to a sociological event. “Rural reservation” is carte blanche for journalistic speculation about social problems and cultural hopelessness.

So watch to see if that is what this story becomes. And wonder why the same story in the wealthy suburbs of Denver did not immediately become fallow ground for sociological speculation about wealth, anomie, and fundamentalist Christianity gone awry.

This Red Lake story is hidden beneath two layers of mythology and misunderstanding that pervade contemporary American culture: “rural” and “Indian reservation.” In each lies a series of expectations and misconceptions that obscures the truth of events and makes what takes place there something “other” than the workaday affairs of our urban and suburban lives.

Watch, now, and see if that mythology and misunderstanding obscures the truth. I know Red Lake. I know those kids. They are just like my students asleep in their beds here in Oxford, just like your children brushing their teeth and packing up their books down the hall from where you are sitting reading this paper.

It was Sitting Bull, the great Lakota chief, who said it best: “Come, let us put our minds together to see what kind of life we can create for our children.”

Those children in Red Lake are your children. Hear their cries and the cries of their parents as if they were your own.

Kent Nerburn
Author, “Neither Wolf nor Dog: On Forgotten Roads with an Indian Elder”
Founder and past director of Project Preserve at Red Lake High School on the Red Lake Reservation

The answers are coming!
The answers are coming!

Please visit and respond if you dare, to be tagged for 5 questions of your own!

Direct Links to the Interview Answers from Bloggers:

Goatopolis as usual, makes me laugh ’til I cry!

Babs did a wonderful job, as always. Pink duck slippers and boas, hmmm…

Chenoah - WOW! Everyone must want you to interview them! And thanks for clearing up the Hannibal Lecter reference. I think…

Scroll down to read Montannie’s and Mike’s interviews. I have comments for the both of you - but I’m holding them in (for now).

And Linn, see what you have to look forward to!

Photo by David Grubbs/Gazette Staff

I read this story in today’s dead tree edition of the Billings Gazette. Congratulations to Josiah Hamilton! I was glad to see that he had his water bottle in his hands. If you read the on-line story and click on the photo to enlarge, you’ll see what I saw. Why aren’t the participants in the Spelling Bee required to pick up after themselves?

Which immediately reminded me of this story from yesterday’s Gazette. This is what bothered me:

Audience members during Thursday night’s Carrot Top show took full advantage of the new policy, drinking plenty of plastic cups of beer. The cups, many of which were left scattered across the floor around the seats, added to the chore of cleaning up on Friday, but the added revenue from concessions more than balanced out the cost of cleanup, Fisher said.

Why are we unable to take care of our own litter?

I apologize for a communication failure on my end.

Mike recently switched from lurker to commenter.

***** Updated 21 Mar 2005 9:30AM *****

Well, here goes nothing! I’d love to introduce you all to Mike, but I’ll let him start by answering these:

1. Tell us a little about your role/interest in the “Ag Community”.

I grew up on a family farm in Montana and though I’ve spent some time away, I always knew I’d return in one form or another. Went to MSU for my initial ag degree and then onto Cornell for a Master’s in Crop & Soil Science. After returning from a stint in the Peace Corps I started a crop consulting company called “Applied Agronomics,” and have been trying to use some of the $$ I make from that to throw back at the operation. A few years ago I inherited 28,000 acres from my uncle. The land stretches in patch-work fashion from near Cut Bank to Sidney and south to the Big Hole Valley. We’re currently growing wheat, sugar beets, and certified seed potatoes. I live on 40 acres near Lolo Pass in western Montana, but will be relocating to near the Billings area probably late this year or early next year. Growing anything in Montana is challenging because of our razor-thin margins but it’s still necessary and rewarding work. Despite the best efforts of a number of friends to talk me out of it I’m now getting involved in starting a cow-calf operation…just bought a number of cows via auction last week…god help me! On a professional level I helped with some research years ago on drought tolerant wheat varities, which still remains an area of interest to me. As personal interest goes I breed lillies (I once promised my grandmother I would name one after her, and haven’t quite succeeded, yet…) and am interested in Cucurbits of every variety. At some point I’d like to also research the viability of a community supported organic farm/produce operation, and perhaps even donate some land to such an endeavor, but that’s a bit far off at the moment.

2. Please share a story about your time in the Peace Corps.

I initially joined the Peace Corps because when I graduated from Cornell jobs in my field were hard to come by, but most importantly I thought it would be a good way to serve my country without the pesky need to learn how to kill others. I spent most of my time in Cameroon, teaching the locals and a handfull of “university” folks how to selectively improve their crops based upon local growing conditions and how to prevent erosion. It seemed like an easy task… The best part of my posting to Cameroon was the frequent visits to the beaches near Kiribi…absolutely some of the best anywhere. Took a short posting to the Central African Republic, doing the same kind of work took side-trips to the M’Baiki region, with it’s plentiful coffee growing plantations it was quite a change to what I had known in Montana! One could purchase ebony carvings for pennies. The worst time I ever had there was a bus trip I deceided to make from Banggssou to the Congo. A hard rough trip that would have
taken perhaps an hour or two by air but took 4 days thanks to a bus that I still believe was held together with bat spit.

3. What is the most amusing thing you’ve seen in the Missoula area? The most amazing?

The most amazing is the alpenglow during sunrise as it hits the mountains. I’ve traveled a lot of places but no where is it as spectacular as in western Montana! The luminesence of the distant pines played against the slate gray of the sky is breathtaking. That’s surely is one of only a handfull of things I will miss about the Missoula area. Amusing? That would be me and the wife bringing along a flask and planting ourselves next to a hotel in downtown Missoula and watching the tourists, who probably just unloaded a thousand-plus for a complete fly fishing outfit, not including a Winston rod, make complete asses of themselves trying to cast in the Clark Fork. It’s really rich, and I highly reccomend it as the cheapest form of entertainment in all of Missoula. I think I remember reading on another Montana blog out there somewhere the hypocrisy involved in almost any visit to the “Good Food Store” in Missoula. Exactly how “organic” are people who wear that much tattoo ink and have that much metal protruding from piercings on the uncovered parts of their
bodies?

4. What do you miss about Longuyland?

I spent some time in Glen Cove when the company my father worked for at the time, Pan Am, kept a house for him and my mom there. It worked out perfectly because I was studying at Cornell during this time. They lived on Daniels Drive in GCLI and what I miss is sitting in the family room and looking out at Long Island Sound. I also miss the frequent trips into “the city.” Spent a lot of time doing the touristy things but fell in love with the Lower East Side. Katz’s deli and Streits Bakery were among, and remain among, my favorite places in the world. I have a place there in a rent-controlled building on Ludlow near Canal which pays for itself 4 times over with what I charge to sublet…ain’t life great. Bought a ticket for the wife and I to attend one of the Prairie Home Companion shows at Town Hall on April 16th. Give the show a listen…I’ll try to put a “hello” out, and mention KKM if Mr. Keillor will read it
:-)

5. When can we expect you to begin a blog? That’s how most of us started, lurking, commenting then blogging! We’d be glad to have you join us.

Start a blog? I’ve probably bored everyone to death with this! It’s been on the burner for some time. I think I would have to learn something more about blogspot or another outfit…and learn some of the code required to post some of those ‘fancy’ links I see you and Sarpy Sam doing. What fun is a blog without photos? Yep, would have to learn how to do that also. While I’ve been online since the days when you would use a “dumb box” from Tandy/Radio Shack to call up a local BBS and display the
results on your TV screen, I’m a screaming moron when it comes to understanding how to do all of this stuff (why else own a Mac these days?) and just when I think I have the time to start, something turns up to suck away my time. One day…and sooner rather than later. If I do, just promise you’ll be critical of everything I do and offer tons of advice for improvement. I’m not the kind of guy who takes personal offense at suggestions for self-improvement

Now it’s my turn to ask the questions, since I answered mine from Randy.

Some of my responders are not bloggers. I treasure my commenters. I couldn’t imagine blogging without you!

**** Update 21 Mar 2005 ****
Montannie commented in the comments (where else?!) but I’ve pasted her answers below for those too lazy to click! Thanks Again Montannie!

For Montannie:

1. As a Billings, Montana native, I’d imagine that you have observed many changes that the city and state have gone through. What are some of these changes, and what are your thoughts on them?

The growth of the city is what immediately comes to mind. The corner of 24th St. West and King Ave. used to be a gravel company, and of course, Barnes & Noble is built overtop the old drive-in movie theater, where I had my first pony ride. I miss the great old department stores downtown — Hart Albin’s, Cole’s, S&L. I miss these things, but would I trade the 2005-Billings for the 1965 edition? Probably not. I’m as much a slave to consumerism as anyone.

2. What was your most memorable job - and why?

Ugh. I sold ice cream, popsicles, etc. one summer from one of those converted meter scooters. I nearly went mad listening to the recorded music that blared non-stop. It was also a low-paying job — there is not as much money in frozen treats as you might expect. Even though it was the worst job I ever had, it did make every other job I’ve had seem better.

3. Tell us what you like about blogs - and don’t like about blogs.

If you’re a regular contributor, it’s like being at a neighborhood bar, where everybody knows your name and your opinions. I like being able to read, and make a comment here or there. Like the aging barfly, but with fewer headaches.

I read more selectively for a while before the election — I did get tired of the same old arguments.

4. What do you do for relaxation?

Read, knit, do art projects. I like to hike in the summer — I’ve gotten into geocaching, and enjoy that. Also, I research my family history. If anyone knows Darby Curran who emigrated from County Mayo in 1847 or so, we’ve got to talk!

5. If you could visit anyplace in the world - where would it be?

I want to go to Ireland, and to the Ukraine, to see the land of my ancestors. I’d travel LOTS if my budget allowed it.

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For Linn (whenever you notice this and you have the time!):

1. Can you tell us an FBI story? Or will you have to kill us?

2. How many places have you lived? Which was your favorite and why?

3. What kind of music do you enjoy the most?

4. What is Atlanta like this time of year? What was your impression of the airport there? The restaurants?

5. Laurel, Montana - tell us something that would surprise us about the place.

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For Goatopolis:

1. If the time machine was in working order, and you were permitted to use it - where/when would you go?

2. What is the first book that you remember reading?

3. Tell us a story about “growing up” in Richey, Montana.

4. Tractors - green or red?

5. What kind of superpowers does Super Girl possess?

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For Babs:

1. Please share with us your favorite WalMart tale.

2. What advice do you have for parents who would like to home school?

3. As an artist, what is your favorite medium to work in?

4. What book are you currently reading?

5. What ever became of the black feather boa?

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For Chenoah:

1. Please explain the title of your blog!

2. How did you and Tomcat meet?

3. Can you share another televangelist story?

4. What’s your favorite song by the Who? What memories does it evoke?

5. During your research on the Korean War (excuse me conflict) what was something unusual that you discovered?

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And Mike, I’m still waiting!

The other day, my husband came in with the mail. He told me that there was a check for me. I haven’t sent in any rebates lately, so I couldn’t figure that out. Sure enough - there was a check for me from a place that I didn’t recognize. I looked at the stub. It said February freelance. I looked at the envelope again. It sounded vaguely familiar. There was a website that I had sent a few little items to last spring, maybe that was it… I went to the site and was unable to get to any archives. I called the telephone number on the check. The bookkeeper had no idea. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that I was paid for something, but I’d sure like to know what it was! Next, I tried the “contact us” on the site. I received an e-mail back right away. They had published a story in one of their print publications. They will send me the issue with the article. I don’t even know if this is a magazine or a newspaper.

When I had sent articles to their website it was done using an on-line form. So I have no e-mail trail to spark my memory. I consistently had trouble signing in on their site. Which was why I eventually gave up and forgot about it.

I’ll keep you posted.

We had quite a bit more snow last night.
Eight degrees this morning - clear, and bright.
Here’s something to look forward to, lilacs and butterflies…

To You & Yours

Una, Mom & Ti

Una says, “Don’t mess with my Bailey’s!”

Everything you always wanted to know about memes - but were afraid to ask can be found here.

At A Secular Franciscan Life Randy
presents these five questions to me.

1. As a Montana transplant what did you find to be the most difficult adjustment to living in Montana and what was the easiest?

The hardest adjustment for me is access to food. I took for granted being able to enjoy any kind of ethnic food anytime of day. Within a square mile radius from my Mom’s house - you could visit a German bakery; several Italian bakeries - most with pizza ovens; several Greek bakeries; a pita bakery; two French bakeries; two bagel shops and a handful of donut shops. It’s hard to believe that I grew up baking at home. I couldn’t begin to describe all the groceries and restaurants. But I am getting hungry thinking about them . . .

The easiest adjustment was discovering that I was meant to be a farmer - with access to fresh food!

2. Tell us a story from your days when you sang for tips.

Uhhh - my mother reads this blog (and your blog too, Randy). I didn’t get my drivers license until I was thirty years old. I did know how to drive. I probably renewed my permit half a dozen times. I didn’t need to drive, so I never bothered. . . I walked to school. I walked further to the train, and took the trains to work. When I hit the clubs I was always solo on foot, with a guitar in each hand - usually bouncing around the Village. I can’t recall ever being in a car, cab or bus with my guitars. Trains, yes . . . Once in a blue moon I may have dragged a brother with me to a gig. I did actually get paid to perform most of the time, but sometimes I’d just wander into places with talent nights.

High point - Singing with the always gracious Odetta at Folk City.

Weird point - Riding the subway after last call was consistently bizarre.

Wacky point - Walking off the stage at the Other End, and having a guy tell me, “You have beautiful ________.” He was referring to body parts that aren’t visible. Perhaps he had x-ray vision. I was too amazed to respond. Which doesn’t happen often.

3. Being a product of a Catholic education in your formative years did you find this to be enlightening or scarring?

Formative years?! I hope that I’m still in them. There’s always more to learn. Yes, I’m the product of twelve years of a Catholic education. My father was Greek Orthodox, but we were raised Catholic in “Little Athens” - Astoria, New York. We always had nuns and priests in our home. Definitely enlightening. An excellent thing for a bodhisattva.

4. How far back have you traced your family tree? Tell us about one of your ancestors whom you never met but wish you had. What makes this person so appealing to you?

I wish that I had been interested in family history when I was in NY. But since I wasn’t, I have specialized in Montana history. I started by studying my husband’s family, who have been in this valley since the early 1900’s. When I realized the resources I have available to me, I decided to help other people. That has been wonderful. I’ve developed research muscles that I never expected. But to answer your question. Not very far back for my own family. I’m second generation American. I know my great grandparents names, but little else.

There are two! I never met either grandmother. I would like to have met my maternal grandmother, who died when my mom was eight years old. I would like to hear her voice, and her accent.

I also would like to spend some time with my paternal grandmother. As Ricky Ricardo said, “Virginia, you’ve got some ’splainin to do”. Every time I discover something about her, it doesn’t answer questions. It creates new family history mysteries.

5. How did a nice Astoria girl like you travel to the end of the road?

End of what road? How did I get to Montana? Lots of Greyhound, a little bit of thumb.

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The first five folks who comment here will receive five questions of their own. And if you respond immediately - you will also receive the only knives you’ll ever need. Well, a link to them - Ginsu!

We had a nice day yesterday - had some friends over for a party.
It was good to visit, and to eat - of course.
It’s still snowing today - and it’s wonderful wet snow!

Time to feed and bed the bovines down again.