The Word Carrier (Santee, Nebraska), 1900-01

              The Word Carrier
©
VOLUME   XXIX.
HELPING   THE   RIGHT,   EXPOSING   THE   WRONG.
NUMBER 1.
SANTEE AGENCY, NEBBASKA.
JANUARY, 1900.
FIFTY CENTS PER YEAR.
OUR PLATFORM.
For Indians we want American Education! We want American Homes!
We want American Rights! The result of which is American Citizenship!
And tlie gospel is the Power of God for
their Salvation,'
AN ECONOMIC FACTOR IN INDIAN
EDUCATION.
The problem of keeping our Indian help up to a reasonable standard of efficiency has been a little
more difficult than usual for a few
months. Quite possibly a cause of
this fact has existed in myself; in
some lack of tact and patience, or in
some other deficiency. I am not
conscious that this has been true,
but of course my consciousness may
be deficient in that respect. Undoubtedly, however, there have been
other causes. Some of these have
been personal and special. But probably the most important has been,
as of old, simply the general fact
that not even careless labor, much
less steadiness and efficiency, are
necessary factors in obtaining a livelihood on the reservation.
Here, at least, this simple economic fact issteadily doing very much
to defeat all educational effort.
The reservation is swarming with
young men who are idle three-
fourths, or all, of the time, and who
cannot be induced to hold good positions for more than a fraction of a
year, or be held up to reasonable
standards of efficiency while they do
hold them. The position which has
been given to S. had been held since
last fall by a young man who returned during the summer from the
east, having been there six or seven
years. On his return he was almost
immediately given a position in the
agency carpenter shop and soon promoted to this position in the school.
He married one of our older school
girls during the summer; was given an agency house to live in; and
seemed to be getting along nicely.
Worked quite satisfactorily, and we
hoped to keep him. Suddenly
about two weeks ago he announced
that he desired to quit. Had nothing else, in view; had no fault to
find with his position; no grievance
against myself or anyone else at the
school; but said that some six weeks
before he had asked the Agent to allow him to move into another house
larger than the one he occupied, and
that the Agent had given him permission to do so but had told him
that he must clean it up and keep
it clean or he would have to move
out. He had not accepted the house,
and, after taking this length of time
to reflect upon it, bad decided that
the Agent had insulted him, and
that he would therefore throw up
his position in the school. I of
course told him that the Agent had
been entirely within the proprieties
in making the conditions he did,
and even in stating them very bluntly,—having much provocation to do
so,—and succeeded in persuading
him (I thought) to abandon any intent to give up his position.
But twodayslaterhe came again to
say that he desired to quit. And this
time he had a grievance. He was
working too hard. He admitted
quite readily that when doing farm
work in Pennsylvania he had had
to   work a great deal harder for
much less wages! but here (he
mentioned with engaging frankness) he was working for the
Government, and did not flinch
from expressing adherence to the
inference obviously intended to
be drawn. His particular grievance
was the fact that in addition to doing
just seven hours regular work six
days per week, he was required on
seven days per week to merely oversee the milking of the cows,—a task
occupying 40 to 60 minutes per day.
He stated that if he could be excused from this burden he would stay.
But he was allowed to go, though I
refused to accept his resignation
until he had taken a night to think
it over.
And this is a specimen case, almost exactly similar to many others
which occur every year, the truth
being that this young man was
simply tired of regular employment,
—tired, in fact, of any employment.
He has been offered employment by
one of his neighbors since he left the
school,—either cash wages, or a
share in the crop to be raised being
tendered if he would help plant 30
acres of corn; but herefused to work
and is loafing. The Indian who
made him this offer, one of the
very few progressive Indians on
the reservation, informs me that
he tried to employ every young man
on the agency, and succeeded in getting only one, and him for only a
part of one day. The school position was offered to four young men
who refused it,—all of them idle or
nearly so.
These seem to me very serious
facts,—and somewhat discouraging.
And I doubt whether there is any
educational remedy for them;—educational as distinguished from economic. Perhaps "rations", "reservations", etc., are provisionally necessary. But, inasmuch as the conditions of life which they create are artificial, their intent is largely defeated. Natural law sometimes seems
hard and merciless—because we do
not trace its operation far enough,
I think. But at any rate God is the
author thereof, and it seems to me
quite possible that we try to interfere with it much too often. Even
economic laws do not seem tobe violated with impunity, and violation
of them seems to inevitably affect
character,—no matter how we may
try to modify the effect by industrial
and other education. Of course the
Indian is not alone in illustrating
the tendencies in question.
Just what it is best to do, more
and more impresses me as being
very difficult to determine. But I
think, with you, that too much is
being done. The Indians on this
Beservation, at least, are being pauperized, it seems to me, by the artificial conditions of life which are
maintained for them. They are
perfectly aware that no stern necessity to be industrious and thrifty
exists for them, and, in the absence
of such necessity (as an impersonal
condition of environment) personal
influence simply holds them until
they grow a little weary of it, and
of work.
Of course, even in this connection it would be pertinent to quote
a very acute remark of George
Eliot's,—"It always remains true
that if we had been greater, circum.
stances would have been less against
us."     If personal   influence   was
stronger, greater, better, it would be
less ineffective.    Yet a ton's weight
will not crush an egg shell unless
resistance is met.    "If any would
not work, neither should he eat,"
impersonally   enforced  as an economic condition would modify character more effectively and desirably '
than a great deal of paternalism,— j
which almost inevitably modifies it ;
undesirably, even when it is much
more judicious paternalism than is j
apt to issue from the Indian Office and j
percolate through Indian Agencies
and schools.
The question is complicated and i
difficult.    I certainly have no con-
viction that I could   suggest just
how   it   should    be   dealt    witb.
Many of the Indians even of adult
age   are   yet   children.    And  the
present system had its origin—its <
provisional justification, perhaps, in
the   swift filling up of a continent
which was only nominally occupied
as a whole by those who held it, and j
in the unnecessary aggression and
crime which attended that filling up, !
and for which we now try to atone,
after a fashion, by paying annuities '
and maintaining a generally pater- ,
nal relation to those who were de- !
spoiled.    And, what exactly, ought
we to do about it?   I, for my part
don't know.    Over and over I give
the question up,—simply with vividly renewed perception that there is
no end to the consequences of sin.
And the giving up in question is not
simply mental abandonment of the
problem as a whole, but unending
perplexity as to what it is best to do
toward solving my particular little
part of it; how to defeat impersonal
conditions; how to work with, instead of against, the self-enforcing
laws of God.     	
POPLAR LEAVES.
Poplar does not look as it did in
1882. When one left the boat-for
it always was a boat in those days—
and drove the two miles over the
bottom between the Missouri and
the Agency village, except for the
Indian teepees grouped about, the
first human habitation that met
the eye was the two-story frame
house of the agent, standing close
to the edge of the plateau upon
which the village was located. It
was the only house that aspired to
such a height then. On the banks
of the Poplar river, perhaps a mile
from it, the white-washed log buildings of the military appeared in the
back-ground. Between the agency
group and military quarters, another creation of Uncle Sam's broke
the treeless expanse, in the shape
of a new log building used for a
boarding school. It was under
contract to the Methodist church.
The Presbyterian Mission was visible to the right not far from the
agency group. These were the
main buildings, though there were
others: the trader's store, and some
belonging to white men with Indian wives.
The Indians, of which there were
some 5000, roved about in blankets
painted their faces, danced,—even
the sun dance, hunted some,—and
drew small rations. There was
scarcely an Indian who showed any
signs of civilization.
Now one alights on the platform
of a respectable looking depot and
climbs the hill to find himself in a
small village whieh has an air of
neatness and comfort. The military have gone, and their quarters,
improved by some additional brick
buildings, are now occupied by one
of the largest government boarding
schools for Indians on any reservation.
A Roman Catholic church stands
quite near. Two school-houses have
burned on the site where stood the
one in 1882, and a substantial looking Presbyterian church, covered
with corrugated iron, now occupies
the spot. The road from the place
where the agent's house used to
stand to the school is lined on one
side with a row of neat, frame cottages for government employees.
The house was spirited to the school-
grounds, where it does duty as a
hospital. Above the cottages is the
new house recently built for the
agent, a very good one, too. Opposite to it is the doctor's new
cottage, also very neat and tasty.
There are two good stores, a fine
public well with windmill, telephone
wires, water-pipes, etc. The irrigating ditch begun in 1894 was successfully completed, and is an important feature in a locality where
drouth is such a drawback. It is
utilized in the interest of the school,
and Indians and employees also reap
the benefit of it. It is situated
above the village, and up the Poplar river.
In 1882 the buildings of the Presbyterian Mission consisted of three.
A comfortable log house where
dwelt Misses McCreight and Dickson, Mr. Wood's story and a half
frame, and a log building used for
the mission day school and meetings. Joseph Rogers and family
were stowed away in one end of it.
All traces of it are now obliterated.
The other two were consolidated
some years ago, and Mr. Lindsey
and wife dispense hospitality alike
to saint and sinner. A former missionary there made a visit after an
absence of several years. The arrival came at nightfall. The following morning the first glance from
the window was fairly electrifying.
It was an astonishing sight to look
down upon blooming flowers in
such abundance, and a vegetable
garden, in that desert. A well had
made this possible.
Not all of the Indians one meets at
Poplar now are clad in full citizen's
clothes. Blankets are warm and the
climate is a cold one in winter. A
short walk might take one within
sight of the bags of a medicineman
and within the sound of his drum.
Vigilance alone prevents tbe ghost
dance from becoming more material than its name would indicate.
Farming is not the only occupation
of the people. Movable teepees are
a convenience where the semimonthly issue of rations requires a
long trip to headquarters for them.
White people have not the entire
"corner" on feathers, beads, and face
paint. However, the savage appearance of the native people ie
quite modified, and their manners
are not nearly so startling as they
were eighteen years ago. As to their
hearts, that belongs to another leaf
from Poplar, which would more
fittingly come from the missionary
there. Abbie L. Miller.
Poplar, Mont.