A Generation Removed: The Fostering and Adoption of Indigenous Children in the Postwar World

Part 1

part one Taking Care of American Indian Children 3 modern indian life Recently, when I was at my annual check-up, my health care provider asked me about what I was writing. I told her about my research, and she disclosed that in her work at a low-income clinic, she meets Indian families all the time who face the loss of their children. But what can be done, she asked me, when alcoholism rates on reservations in Nebraska are over 90 percent ? This shocking number didn’t sound right to me, but I didn’t have any hard data on hand about American Indian rates of alcohol use and abuse. Later I looked up the latest research. My provider and most Americans might be surprised to learn that overall, American Indians drink less than other Americans and are actually more likely to abstain altogether. And rates of heavy alcohol use among Indians are comparable to those of white Americans. According to the report, 2010 National Survey on Drug Use and Health, only 36.6 percent of American Indians or Alaska Natives had used alcohol in the past month, compared with 56.7 percent of whites. The report characterized 17.9 percent of American Indians as binge alcohol users and 6.9 percent as heavy alcohol users. Among whites, 16.3 percent were binge alcohol users, and 7.7 percent were heavy alcohol users. (The Americans with the highest rates of alcohol abuse are college students; 42.2 percent were binge drinkers, and 15.6 percent were heavy drinkers.)¹ Despite such statistics, however, the public perception persists that Indian communities suffer from rampant alcohol abuse. Media reports have shaped and reinforced the notion that American Indian families and communities are hopelessly dysfunctional as a result of out-ofcontrol alcoholism. In abc’s broadcast of “A Hidden America: Children of the Plains” in October 2011, journalist Diane Sawyer toured the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota and detailed alcohol abuse, dilapidated and 4 overcrowded housing, high suicide rates, unwed teen pregnancy, and unemployment .² This is virtually all that non-Indians learn about Indian people. Little wonder, then, that my health care provider and many other Americans believe that Indian communities are beyond hope. I have visited quite a few reservations and other Indian communities over the years: the Tolowa ranchería in northern California, Zuni Pueblo and Taos Pueblo, and the Wind River, Navajo, Hopi, Mescalero Apache, and Omaha reservations. And in Lincoln, Nebraska, I’ve gone to the Lincoln Indian Center on occasion. From what I have seen and taken part in, life seems to be proceeding in Indian communities in the same mundane ways that it does in other places that I have lived and visited. Friends and family get together and share meals, community members gather for ceremonies, governing councils deliberate, children attend school and play sports, teachers instruct children. Indian communities assuredly have more than their share of hardship , tragedy and controversy, but they also provide spaces where Indian families can sustain their distinctive languages and cultures. Most Americans have never witnessed or shared in the everyday life of Indian people, nor have they been exposed to the rich ceremonial culture that persists among Indians. Few have had the opportunity to visit Indian communities, whether an urban Indian center or a remote reservation. Instead they rely on media to give them a picture of Indian life, and this picture is usually grim. For most Americans, the glass of modern Indian life is empty of all but pain, suffering, and misery. But what if we saw it as half full? Admittedly, we would see sorrow and hardship—but also pulsing life, joy, and beauty. ...