I wish I could say I was pleasantly surprised by the conditions on Pine Ridge Reservation, but unfortunately they lived up to every troubling story I had heard. My heritage is Native, and it’s always pained me to know that the American Indian population is amongst the most impoverished and oppressed in the country. I knew I wanted to help, but until recently I just wasn’t sure what I could offer. Having spent the last seven years teaching music enrichment clinics, I’ve begun to more fully understand music’s ability to access and empower students, particularly those who are struggling in some way. The Moxie Strings were booked down the road in Wyoming, so I saw my opportunity and mustered the courage to offer what I could to the students of Pine Ridge.

Pine Ridge Reservation is the 7th largest rez in the country, spanning 2.1 million acres and inhabited by almost 20,000 people. The average life expectancy is about 67 years (the lowest in the country.) It has an 89% unemployment rate, and lowest per capita income in the US. There are 9 elementary/intermediate schools and 3 major high schools, with an average drop-out rate of over 70%. The teen suicide rate is 150% that of the United States, and alcoholism affects 85% of the reservation’s families. 1 in 4 children are born with fetal alcohol complications. These are just the start of many more staggering statistics. You can see why I’ve been pulled to Pine Ridge, as are many others. (www.re-member.org)

I woke up early in nervous anticipation of my day with the Pine Ridge students. I started my 2-hour drive from Rapid City around 6am. I didn’t encounter any other cars for most of my drive. As I entered the reservation, I noticed the small, weathered homes stacked on the dirt hillsides. Most are manufactured, some missing windows, and I’m told most of them house multiple families. The schools I saw were made of mostly cinder blocks with crumbling front steps and dirt parking lots.

I really didn’t know what to expect from the students. I knew of their history and the hardship they face, but their actual day-to-day was a mystery to me. I arrived at the first elementary school and was relieved to see some familiarity. Little people, little backpacks, little school buses… the majority of them all had beautiful dark hair and bronzed skin. Their adorable way of asking if I had Native heritage was raising their hands and asking “what’s your natural hair color?” “Dark like yours,” I said.

I spent the morning working with second graders, then saw 6th, 7th, and 8th in the afternoon. (Ages 7-14.) I performed for them, told them about my musical journey, and answered questions. I offered my story as the illustration of an exciting career that risk-taking, creative thinking, and determination can produce, and encouraged them to think about what made them feel most alive and excited in life. “What’s the thing you could do every day for the rest of your life?” I asked, and assured them that a career in that does exist. I grappled with this, because I think there’s a fine line between empowerment and false hope. Given the dedication of the teachers and strength of the young people I was experiencing, though, I truly do believe this is can be true for each of them. The teachers were strong, and spoke openly and empathetically about the conditions on the rez. I asked for their feedback, and they assured me that my message was appropriately hopeful and not unrealistic. This eased my worry, and I could trust that if the students took my message to heart, they had a team of adult support.

Each group of students I worked with left me almost speechless. I cannot say enough about their warmth, excitement, and kindness. The raised their hands and asked thoughtful questions, and weren’t afraid to use vulnerable language. One second grader raised his hand to say that “this is the most beautiful music [he’d] ever heard.” One of my fears working with underserved populations was the possibility of confronting more behavior issues than I’m used to, but this wasn’t the case here. The students were perfectly behaved and showed genuine appreciation for my being there. They didn’t take it for granted. There were lots of little hugs after each performance, and many lingered to ask more questions as their teachers smiled and reluctantly herded them back to their classrooms.

The students’ immense kindness almost made it harder. Like I would have had an easier time digesting the windowless homes and barbed wire around the schools if the students were agitated or aggressive. They would have every right to be; more-so than most. But it was the opposite, and it was heartbreaking. They were some of the most sensitive and warm souls I’d ever worked with. Smiley, kind, curious, polite, enthusiastic, and appreciative.

I thought about how hard it can be to be kind sometimes. When I get overwhelmed or worried, being sensitive and open is so much harder. These students and teachers kept their kindness alive despite the hardship they experience daily. I was inspired and changed by it. I realized that I’d do anything to make sure the possibility and optimism I assured them of was true. I offered them my contact information and encouraged them to stay in touch.

I returned to my hotel room exhausted but motivated to reach as many of these brave, deserving little humans as I can. Starting a nonprofit has been a dream of mine for a long time, and I’m so thrilled to announce that it’s finally become a reality. Watch the video below, and please help us continue to reach these students on Pine Ridge and many other underserved communities nationwide.

If you’re inclined to help Pine Ridge specifically or just learn more, I highly recommend these organizations and their continued efforts: www.re-member.org and www.friendsofpineridgereservation.org  

Thank you, drriifters 💙🌏💨

Diana