String about indian boarding schools

String about Indian Boarding Schools

Before reading this on boarding schools, I named my website Navajo
Spaceships because I envisioned it to be a flight into the
imagination, taking us to a higher place. I did not realize I was just
following a trail of Sioux girl, a former boarding school student like
me, who started out to these places a century before I got here. I
found this information about a young Indian girl who wrote a story
about taking a trip to the moon, taking herself, her people and me on
her travels there. This is taken from research on Carlisle Indian
School, the website address follows: "The Nellie we know best is that
girl who took a trip to the moon in 1890. It was that Nellie who came
to Carlisle as a student, graduated in the second class (1890), went
on to university, returned to Carlisle as teacher and then matron, and
was one of the last people on campus when it closed in 1918" Nellie's
Trip to the Moon
The following is discussion about boarding schools "taken from
Navajos.com message board" June 9, 99. It is regrettable that this
websit is no longer available, however there is Navajopage.com and
Shidineh.com, if you would like to visit.


Rustywire: I was in Albuquerque the other day and found myself
standing on the street next to the Old Albuquerque Boarding School. It
was a nice place the old buildings and I remember the kids who went to
school there. The campus was clean, grass in front of the buildings
and the voices of the children there, the comings and goings to the
nearby stores and movies. The Dorm life, staying there with a bunch of
others, the dorm attendants checking on everyone, cleaning all the
time and all those things. The cafeteria food, the playing of basket
ball outside and lounging around on the grass at the park next door.


Those buildings were old, the school was built way back in the 20's
and I think some of those buildings were that old, red brick, great
big Victorian structures. There was a circle in the middle, a sidewalk
with trees that was nice.


Mainly I remember kids like Bettian Judee from Shonto, long hair and a
nice smile. Her and many other graduated from Valley High, alot of
kids went to schools in the area there. Life experiences were gained
in this place, learning to live with one another and to see what a
city was like. All these things came from this place.


I stand here looking at this school, but I find that it has all been
torn down and there is nothing but an empty field of weeds, a few
pieces of broken concrete that were foundations and no trees.
Everything is gone. It is an empty feeling standing here, much that
was here and in other places like Stewart, Nevada; Richfield, Utah;
Manuelito Hall in Gallup, Intermountain at Brigham city, Utah. These
old schools that shaped us are disappearing, they are like a mist that
has disappeared with the light of dawn. Soon they will be all gone.
There is no monument not even a plaque to say this is where
Albuquerque Boarding School was, just a street called Indian School
Road, there is also a street with a similar name in Phoenix. The
school there is gone as well.


It was a place where lives were formed and life changing experiences
were brought to native children in a world of the white man. Now,
there isn't anything. I listened to the rustle of the trees and there
is nothing more.


I have seen old pictures of Carlisle in Pennsylvania and the Grand
Junction School in Colorado; of those young Indian children standing
there in black and white with buttoned up uniforms, shades of grey and
they have no names. They are faces and not much is known about them.
Yet I know I was one of them. How many of our children have gone to
these places and there is nothing written about them and so their
names are gone with the wind.


I stand on this empty street and realize I am one of those faces now
in some notebook, in a filing drawer about Indian education, but this
place was much more than that there is nothing to mark this spot. It
is time to go and so I step into my ride and drive away and see there
is nothing, nothing left, it is gone forever...


Mudrun...@amritech.net:


I grew up going to a Catholic school. The nun's where great at
teaching fear and good behavior


Jolene Catron, o...@yahoo.com: about Albuquerque Indian school and old
hospital":


I remember attending the early beginnings of the Gathering of Nations
powwow when it was at the old indian school campus. That was a while
ago, and I was just a little girl with bugger nose and chizzy knees.
Now I am a big girl...hahahaha.


Anyway, my mother was born in the old hospital that used to be part of
the indian school campus. The building burned down about 4 or 5 years
ago, and my mother was visiting me that morning the old nurses
quarters burned down. I lived downtown at the time, and my mother and
I drove by the burning building. She was very, very sad to see that
building burn, and that was the first time she told me that was where
she was born.


I am sure there are lots of memories that are kept alive when former
students pass by that empty field. Jolene


Nathan, nredho...@aol.com: "old Fort Lewis school" :
I can relate to your feelings since I have experienced the same thing
myself and I saw it through the eyes of my Grandfather Sam Ahkeah out
of Cudei. My cousin and I were going to school at Ignacio and Sam came
by to take us back to school one Sunday after a holiday when we were
allowed to go home. Sam came by with his son and I recall his visit
with my mother, his niece. We went toward Farmington out of Shiprock,
but instead of going into "town," he took the LaPlata road toward
Durango. Somewhere between the turnoff and route 160, I awoke after
dozing and found Sam had stopped and was standing out in a field
looking into the afternoon sun. With his off-white fedora blowing in
the wind, he called us over but his son would not go and I went on
alone to where he was standing. He took me by the shoulder and he
lamented his childhood of how he was brought to this site where a
school once stood. "It was called Fort Lewis," he said. This is after
he had completed his term of being Chairman of the Tribe. When we got
to Ignacio he gave a wooden #2 pencil and told me that the pencil was
not much but what came off the end was more important than the value.
I go to Ignacio now and I stand among the trees next to the flagpole
and look at the dormitories and think of all the youth who have passed
through and think, "my my, how young we all were." Nathan


LD: "about Lower Kaibeto boarding school:


Totally understand the feeling. I attending the Lower Kaibeto Boarding
School from K thru 4th grade. The trading post was just over the wash.
There was a wooden foot bridge that spanned the wash. When the wash
was flowing after a storm, we would stand on the bridge and watch the
water rush under the bridge. The dorm aids would always chase us off
the bridge, and some of us would get in trouble and be punished by
standing in line in front of everyone else bent over with the legs
straight and touching our toes for what seemed to be forever.


After my 4th grade year (I think) the upper campus was built and moved
up there. The trading post moved up some years later. Now all you see
is chipped concrete floor and foundations where the dormitories,
Gymnasium, teachers quarters and cafeteria once stood.


Some good memories and some not so good ones. But as you said, when
you stand there, there's an empty feeling where so many young lives
were formed and molded. LD


waterlogged_30@yahhocom: "about Shonto boarding school":


I remember boarding school, even though it seems like it was ages ago.
I attended Shonto Boarding school for about eight years of my life. A
small price to pay for what I deem the end results of a well fulfilled
life.


I remember having to walk in two single file lines everywhere we went,
boy, girl, boy, girl... To the gym, the library, the cafeteria. Just
about everywhere. Even to the restrooms. But not into, thank God.


Having to stand at the head of the table in the cafeteria to recite,
"Girrs may si' down and boyz may si' down."


Who can forget those awesome Monday and Thursday night movies? Was it
Bruce Lee again tonight or might it be Rooster Cogburn? "Slush" and
popcorn for .50 cents. Wow. Am I telling my age here?


What about those Wednesday evening canteen runs to the "Bears Den" for
frybread, Navajo Tacos, a game of pool or "Space Invaders". Spending
the money that your Grandma had given you the last time you saw her
when they dropped you off at the dorm. "Don't forget to give some to
your sister," echoing in your mind as you try to rid the world of the
invasion of Galaga.


Once in a while there was a dance held in the gym. Or as I remember,
two or three dancers, 60 - 70 wallflowers. At least for about the
first hour or so. 'Till some of the dorm aids start threatening that
we will all go back to the dorm if nobody starts dancing. Which means
everybody would get off there side of the bleachers and slowly migrate
to the other side. The boys would still be on one side and the girls
on the other.


Every once in a while, the whole gym would be racked by cries of
"ohh-ohh" in discoesque fashion trying to emulate the latest warblings
of the likes of KC and the Sunshine Band. Now this is getting pretty
scary.


Then the day would finally arrive. Friday, check out day. Will this be
the week that Mom and Dad will show up and take us home for the
weekend? Or will I be stuck here again for another clean up day around
the school campus? One by one, others are being checked out by
relatives and family, freed from the daily regiment of "details" and
such. Any minute, someone will be coming for me too. I hope. Sometimes
they did, most times not. But, such was life in the ole Boarding
school.


I rather quite enjoyed this little walk down memory lane. I thank you
for resurrecting some of those moments that will live on, at least in
my mind. In your minds also.


They may be pictures in a filing cabinet somewhere of the BIA Boarding
School System. But as for me, each is a cherished memory of my youth.
Apart of history that I played a small, maybe forgetable, but
nevertheless, precious role in.


2K:"about Richfield dorm"


Reminiscencing about the old days spend at boarding schools can bring
back alot of memories, rather they are good or bad. It is sad that
some of these schools are history with nothing, not even a plaque, to
commemorate it with.


Recently, I had the opportunity to attend the last dinner with the
class of 99' and other former students of Richfield Dorm. Alot has
changed since I was there, but I remember vividly, and picture myself
and my friends, what we did. I remember the stereo with its speakers
blarring country music which you can hear all the way downtown. The
bucking barrel that was on the east side of the dorm. The study halls,
family dinners, doing our own laundries. I remember the stories we
used to tell about ghosts and skinwalkers.


Then, I wonder what happened to these students and friends that I
knew...where are they? How did they turn out? What are they doing now?
You wonder why you didn't keep in touch and regret getting an address.
These are the good old days, the good and bad, when life wasn't as
hectic. The staff that I still remember; Mr. Charles, Mr. Addison,
Mrs. Waters, the principal, Mr. LeFlore, the night aid walking down
the hall. I could go on and on, but when I stepped out of my car, and
set my eyes on the dorm and campus, I choked up knowing that this will
all be history. What good memories this history would be.


k Kay: "more about Richfield dorm"


In response to 2k, i am only 1 of those hundreds of students that went
to Richfield Dormitory. I visited back to the dorm in January or so,
and they did mentioned that this would be the last year for the dorm
to be opened. I regret not going to the last dinner in May. I just
couldn't make it. In my last visit I had a chance to visit w/ Mr. Lee
and Mona Lee Petersen. I still love to EAT, so i remember the kitchen
the best, Mr. Lee cooking up fry bread, & mutton stew. It seems I was
always in there for K P duty, working off hrs, or was hungry. The
ghost stories fit the picture, wasn't the dorm built on an old, old
graveyard or something like that, on the girls side? I use to hear
anyway. I still will go back and visit. Thanks for the memories...