I have wondered how to go about writing about my heavy heart without it making this place sound bad. I'm not quite sure how to do that, but all I can do is speak the truth as it is seen though my lens. I love the Sioux YMCA. I love this reservation. I love that no matter where I go out here, someone knows me or knows that I work for the Y. I love that when I go into the store, I see at least five people who know me and what was a simple outing for bread, has now turned into a half an hour long conversation. I love the sunsets and the sunrises; even the huge scary clouds that brought rain which turned the camp road (and everything else at camp) to gumbo. Hell, I will even say I love the gumbo... Sometimes. Well, only when looking back on the craziness that we endured because of it. I love that there are people here in this community that care as much as I do about the youth we serve. I love knowing that when I leave, my kids aren't going to be left with no one to listen to their stories- the good, the bad and sometimes the ugly.
With all of that being said, the ugly things are what makes my heart hurt. Yes, I'm a camp director. Yes, I spend six weeks out of the summer sunbathing by the river, listening to children laugh, seeing them smile, and seeing these children be kids. I get to spend six weeks giving these kids what most kids have their whole lives. They aren't worried about where their next meal will be coming from, they don't have to take care of their four younger siblings, they don't have to sleep on the floor without a pillow or blanket. They play. They swim. They get to live and be a kid in a safe, healthy environment where they know THEY will be taken care of. Six weeks.
I just went to a Camping Conference where one of the Camp Directors told a story about a Sam's Club employee asking what he did when he didn't have summer camp... It made me think. Six weeks out of 52. I don't just close up camp and go home. I don't go to work at the Y in my office and never converse with my kids from camp. I don't look at them when they tell me that another one of the kids is cutting herself again and say "Oh, sorry, I'm the camp director. Go talk to someone else". I spend the other 46 weeks listening to my kids from camp and some who have never gone to camp.
I listen to stories of my kids who are staying at a cousin's house (maybe a three bedroom trailer which already houses 10-12 people on a full night) because their mom is drinking again and doesn't have food in their house. I listen to kids tell me that they couldn't sleep because they were up counting the mice that ran across the floor. I listen to girls tell me about their "friends" cyber bullying them telling them no one likes them and that they should cut their wrists and die. I see my kids hurt when their friends are taken away by the state and split up never to be heard of again. I never get to see my kids who are taken by the state ever again. Kids that I have spent more time with than their own parents. I see kids who have parents who don't parent. I see and spend more time being a parental figure to these kids than their parents do. I see what addiction does to those who are not even the addict. I don't see some of my kids because they are given up by their parents because meth is more important than their Wakan children. Their sacred children. I hear that parents want to fight other adults because their child said that another child picked on them. I start to wonder what I would do if a parent came to me and wanted to fight me. I don't know if I could hold back my thoughts. Sometimes when I think of things I would love to say to some of my kid's parents, it's really hard to remember that they have experienced generations of hurt. That there is sooooo much history to take into consideration. Addiction is a real thing that so many people have to deal with and are touched by out here, even those who never thought they would be effected by it, aka me. As you can read, these are real life issues that my kids and the people who live out here are faced with every day. For some, this is just every day life. I'm not saying that there is a right and wrong way of living and one thing I have learned is that just because some things are done differently doesn't mean they are wrong, but there are things that I personally in my heart, cannot handle as being an OK thing. Through my lens, morally, there are things that I cannot turn my back to.
I have been told by social workers that "you need to set boundaries" or "you need to point the kids in the direction of programs and services that can help them" or "you're not qualified to help them with issues such as those". You know what? They are correct, but when the services that are offered to them are a half hour away or that they may not be able to ask for help because they will get in trouble it's hard not to try to help them. How do you listen to these little human beings that have grown up dealing with things I wouldn't wish upon my biggest enemy and tell them "Sorry, I won't help you because I'm not qualified"? I know I can't fix all their problems. I know that I can listen and if that means my heart fills up and I have to carry some of their pain and mine overflows with all these things that scare them just so their hearts can be a little lighter, I'm going to do it. I did do it. Without knowing how to let loose the hurt I hear that fills my heart and cracks it, I cannot continue to help my kids. It's tough to help others when you are broken yourself.
A teacher out at the Takini School told Amanda and I that "You can't sacrifice yourself for the children" but ultimately that is what every YMCA worker does out here at the Y. It's not a matter of NOT sacrificing yourself, but for how long you can continue to sacrifice...
If you are still reading this, I hope you understand that I am not putting anyone or these communities down. If anything, I hope that if you are reading this and if you don't live out here or even if you do, that you understand that I think those who continue to strive and be strong for the children on this reservation are heroes. I have grown to love this place and the people. There is something so amazing about a community that will help one another out in times of need. From helping fix each other's vehicle or sharing pampers because the grocery store is closed. I have never felt the sense of community more than I do out here in the Cheyenne River Reservation. My friend asked me if I could now understand how kids who grew up here feel when they go off to college and it took me a couple minutes to think about. That's exactly how I feel, but on a much smaller scale obviously. Those kids are the strong ones. The ones leading the path for their brothers and sisters. Their nieces and nephews. They are showing them that it's ok to go off and better themselves and to come home and still be a part of their family and community. To better their communities. I know a couple of amazingly strong girls out here who are doing that right now and I am so happy I was able to get to know them and add them to my friends list.
Even in the short year that I have spent out here, so many things have changed within the Sioux YMCA. When I first started, I was the only program director. I was running the after school program and trying to prepare for not only my first summer as a camp director but going into it almost completely blind while still trying to keep how camp was the year prior. Now, we have two program director positions and a full time volunteer. Programming and numbers of kids participating not only at the Y for day camp, after school and night activities has gone up, but also at summer camp. The Sioux YMCA culture is strong and thriving and you can tell each time you see a child enter the building after school. They always have smiles on their faces and are excited to be here. If they don't have smiles, they are coming to you to have you help them, which is exactly what we could only HOPE for here at the Y.
Our mission is to develop and strengthen the children and families in our reservation communities so they can fulfill their greatest individual and collective potential, spiritually, mentally and physically. The Sioux YMCA is ran solely off of private donations and grants. Everything we do comes from monies raised by us or for us. There are many YMCAs and separate people who believe in what we do and HOPE that by providing us the money needed, that we, who work for the YMCA here will be able to live up to our mission. Compared to where we were a year ago, I personally HOPE that the Sioux YMCA will continue doing all that they can to develop and strengthen these children so they can be all that they can and should be. I have been so fortunate and blessed for this opportunity to fall on my lap for this past year I cannot put into words how much I owe those who have taken me in to their families and have welcomed me into their culture and traditions with unconditional love.
I know that although I have only been a part of these children's lives for a year, I have helped plant the seed in them that is needed to know they are more than just an ugly stupid statistic and that their lives are worth more. I HOPE to see all of my kids grow up to fulfill their greatest individual and collective potential, spiritually, mentally and physically by staying connected to the Y.
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