Native American Reservation
In the spring of 2013, a small group of kids and I traveled to the Pine Ridge reservation located in North Dakota. None of us knew what to expect once we stepped foot on the res. We learned about the sacred land and their culture a couple weeks prior to the trip, but no amount of information can grasp how it feels there. We learned that this is the most poverty stricken part of America, their unemployment rate shoots from 85%-95%, their teen suicide rates are 3 times the national average and their infant immortality is the highest in the continent, 300% higher than the U.S. The Pine Ridge reservation is home to the Lakota tribe and like most reservations theirs is dry. Two miles outside of the reservation, there is a town called White Clay and this is where the natives go to get their alcohol.
I remember our descent into the reservation, White Clay is the first thing we come across and everyone became hushed. The feel in atmosphere was empty, as if all the happiness was sucked out of that land and we saw drunken men just laying on the ground breathing but their hearths barely beating. This moment set the tone for what we were about to endure. Life on the reservation is not easy, they have 10 people living in a 3 bedroom house doing what they can for heat and food. If it snows and the powers out, they have to shovel their selves out before they can go get help. Food is not cheap and only one person may have a job. During our duration there we built bunk beds, fixed houses and shoveled out driveways.
The people were thankful for what we did, but I felt it was never enough considering what my race had done to them and their land. Some natives didn't want us there because of the history and that's understandable. From that trip I learned that nothing ever comes easy in life, to always help others and be thankful for everything we have, even the small thing. If I could have left anything for the people there, I would give them hope.
In the spring of 2013, a small group of kids and I traveled to the Pine Ridge reservation located in North Dakota. None of us knew what to expect once we stepped foot on the res. We learned about the sacred land and their culture a couple weeks prior to the trip, but no amount of information can grasp how it feels there. We learned that this is the most poverty stricken part of America, their unemployment rate shoots from 85%-95%, their teen suicide rates are 3 times the national average and their infant immortality is the highest in the continent, 300% higher than the U.S. The Pine Ridge reservation is home to the Lakota tribe and like most reservations theirs is dry. Two miles outside of the reservation, there is a town called White Clay and this is where the natives go to get their alcohol.
I remember our descent into the reservation, White Clay is the first thing we come across and everyone became hushed. The feel in atmosphere was empty, as if all the happiness was sucked out of that land and we saw drunken men just laying on the ground breathing but their hearths barely beating. This moment set the tone for what we were about to endure. Life on the reservation is not easy, they have 10 people living in a 3 bedroom house doing what they can for heat and food. If it snows and the powers out, they have to shovel their selves out before they can go get help. Food is not cheap and only one person may have a job. During our duration there we built bunk beds, fixed houses and shoveled out driveways.
The people were thankful for what we did, but I felt it was never enough considering what my race had done to them and their land. Some natives didn't want us there because of the history and that's understandable. From that trip I learned that nothing ever comes easy in life, to always help others and be thankful for everything we have, even the small thing. If I could have left anything for the people there, I would give them hope.