America's Indian Education Policies: Education for Environmental In- justice

An Overview of Issues Present and Past

In the introduction to the book Environmental Justice, Bruno Leone (1995) notes that in looking at some of America's most polluted and environmentally degraded communities, it becomes apparent that what he terms “environmental racism” is taking place. Likewise, Bullard (2000) has made the same point in a somewhat different way when he says “In the real world, all communities are not created equal. All communities do not receive equal protection. Economics, political clout, and race play an important part in sorting out residential amenities and disamenities” (p. 559). Some assert that minority communities are disproportionately targeted by government and by industry for the siting of manufacturing, processing, and disposal facilities that cause high levels of pollution in the neighborhoods and communities in which they are situated and that these communities are chosen primarily because they lack the strong political representation, the education, and the funds needed to defend themselves effectively from those who see them as easy targets. In support of this argument it has been demonstrated that white communities are rarely targeted for such sites and when they are, they command both the political and monetary clout to deflect the threats (Leone, 1995; Hill, 2009; Bullard, 2000).

To address this situation, President Clinton issued Executive Order No. 12898 nearly 20 years ago directing all federal agencies to make environmental justice part of their mission by ensuring that their actions not create a disproportionately high and adverse environmental effect on poor and minority communities (Hill, 2009). Some positive changes have indeed been made during the intervening years, yet minority communities are still bearing the greatest weight of the nation's waste and pollution. Hill (2009) tells us directly that “the most important predictor of whether a particular community has a hazardous waste landfill is its racial composition—the more people of color, the higher probability” (p. 7).

In America the effects of general racism, and specifically environmental in-justice, are most often considered to be associated with the black and Hispanic communities. But in spite of the apparent focus on these two groups, a general pattern arises that is applicable in all cases of environmental in-justice, including those of Native Americans. Although it can appear that the persistence of environmental in-justice symbolizes the entire problem, Pulido (2000) asks us to look past what is arguably an issue of social and environmental injustice in the siting of polluting industries, and to consider the socio-geographical, structural, and hegemonic histories that have permitted such injustices to develop and persist. Applying this lens to the environmental, economic, and social status of Native Americans, a connection may be made between the socio-geographical, structural, and hegemonic histories of this people group and current injustices. Put another way it is plausible that these First Nation peoples have been historically endowed with an educational legacy that has prepared them neither for successful participation in the dominant society nor holistic functioning in their indigenous societies; this endowment has left them particularly vulnerable to exploitation. One facet of this vulnerability to exploitation is that of environmental in-justice.

A brief look at American history shows that as European settlers pushed west across the North American continent there were repeated conflicts with groups of Native Americans in residence there and pressure to solve what became known as “the Indian problem” intensified. After perusing several different plans, the United States government finally settled on a two-tined approach: relocation and re-education. To accomplish this, Native Americans were routinely removed from their homelands and assigned to a patchwork of reservations that are scattered over the nation. Additionally, as a way of speeding the assimilation of the indigenous peoples into the ideal homogenous stream of American life and culture, Native American children were removed from these reservations and placed in day schools, on-reservation boarding schools, and off-reservation boarding schools for systematic re-education toward that end. As Begaye (2004) in the preface to Grande's Red Pedagogy: Native American Social and Political Thought insists, these were “federal policies experimenting with reinventing Native American people in the likeness of white people” (p. viii).

These actions were not without later ramifications. First, while reservation lands frequently lack the rich, arable qualities found in the original Native American homelands, they are often rich in natural and mineral resources, a situation which has made their exploitation by commercial interests highly attractive. Second, although educating Native American children may have seemed like an appropriate and perhaps even honorable deed on the part of the American government, its execution has been documented as harsh, traumatic, and incomplete, leaving what can arguably be thought of as cultural scars. In this regard, Brasfield (2001) has identified a set of problematic symptoms in Native American students who attended boarding schools. He has termed this as “residential school syndrome.” Concerning this, Fixico (2003) maintains that the classroom was designed “…to undermine the confidence of an Indian youth and to disarm his native intellect so that a teacher could teach him humility and demonstrate that the teacher had power over anyone in the class” (p. 86). In other words, it had as its goal not so much education, but rather re-education. Thus, like Pulido (2000) has argued, the socio-geographical, structural, and hegemonic history of Native American peoples both altered their indigenous way of life and their present situation. Although this approach failed at its ultimate goal of cultural assimilation, it has still worked to fashion their experience of environmental in-justice.

In order to better appreciate this assertion it is important to recall that prior to the arrival of Europeans, Native Americans had been part of a unique communal structure. This structure encompassed a holistic worldview that provided a strong social configuration. These things had allowed Native Americans to successfully live and thrive for hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years on the North American continent. These were structures that had enabled them to know and understand the cycles and secrets of the natural world so completely that they had over that same period of time, not depleted the land and its resources. Their worldview fostered a great respect for and an honoring of the natural world. But, in an effort to de-educate in order to re-educate, the educational policies of the American government worked to break down the very structures that had sustained Native Americans over time. In particular, Indian youth were taught to see the natural world as Europeans saw it—not as something that sustains life but as something to be used and exploited for human benefit. Essentially they were pressed to relinquish their own cultural worldview in exchange for the European worldview. Thus, although rarely wholly transformed into the European image, students nevertheless brought home to the reservations new ideas which conflicted with their own culture. The way in which the natural world was conceptualized in the school curriculum and how this has played out over time highlights the loss of connection with the natural world that was achieved.

Likewise, it is important to recall that while Native American students were being instructed in the ways of looking like, thinking like, and acting like “proper” American citizens, the academic aspects of their education were faltering. Arguably the reasons for this are multiple and moreover inextricably bound to the frameworks of culture and worldview. However, there was at that time an overarching notion that Indians were simple and childlike—only capable of learning and executing menial tasks. Thus, rather than educating for literacy, understanding, and the ability to reason and problem-solve, Native American youth were routinely given vocational training, often, as Reyhner and Eder (2004) point out, in a skill which was useless or outdated. Students that returned to the reservation were often without even the basic academic skills and knowledge needed to survive in white society. In this respect, Brugge and Goble (2002) assert that even after “education” Native Americans [Navajo] remained woefully undereducated and isolated, unable to make informed decisions about environmental hazards. They then go on to comment, concerning uranium mining on the New Mexico Colorado Plateau which began in 1948, that “few Navajo people spoke English, and few had formal education. Thus, the Navajo population was isolated from the general flow of knowledge about radiation and its hazards” (p. 1411). Although in this case a firm grasp of traditional ways may have not fully protected the Navajo from exploitation, this knowledge coupled with a foundational education would have.

The Harvest of MIS-Education: Environmental in-Justice

It seems then that in many cases education as practiced by the schools which Indian children attended prepared them neither for full participation in the dominant white society nor for a return to their own society. Through the assumptions and agendas of worldview it ultimately dishonored the person, the culture, and the ways of knowing that had over time fashioned the very identity of these peoples, creating citizens equipped neither for life in a traditional indigenous society, nor for life in the national mainstream. Students who returned home, returned home altered in both appearance and in thought and respect for their own culture, their own ways of viewing the world and their ethic of care for the earth.

The double pronged approach to the “Indian problem”—relocation and de-education for re-education—has had four general results. First, for many Native Americans there has been a loss of cultural ways of knowing about the natural world and how it functions. Second, through the mistaken assumptions about the cognitive abilities of Native Americans, a foundation of appropriate academic skills was not broadly constructed; without this foundation a treadmill of voiceless-ness, passivity, poverty, and dependency developed over time for many Indians. Third, this situation of voiceless-ness, passivity, poverty, and dependency in turn reinforced the notion of the inferior “other,” a precursor to justification of acts of injustice. Finally, the poverty associated with this treadmill can at times impel community decisions about the use of a reservation's natural resources based not on tribal wellbeing, but on purely monetary grounds. Likewise, the poverty which this treadmill has generated can make protracted legal defense out of reach for many if and when risk-for-money deals go sour.

The Current State of Environmental in-Justice on Reservation Lands

Environmental in-justice on the reservation has two basic constructions: injustices involuntarily imposed on the people by others, and injustices inadvertently or knowingly, but “voluntarily” imposed on the people through actions of the tribal governments themselves. In such instances, tribal leaders bargain away certain safeguards in exchange for monetary reimbursement. Tribal governments may see these tradeoffs as a case of the greatest good for the greatest number of people and thus broadly beneficial to all tribal members. But, while these decisions are freewill and are not coerced, decision makers may not always be fully informed of their overall and long-term consequences by those proposing these agreements.

Many examples of environmental in-justice on reservation lands are available in the literature. Reflecting the fact that many reservation lands are rich in mineral resources, issues associated with mining are frequent. In some instances, early mining activities continue to be problematic on tribal lands. For instance, the Tar Creek Superfund Site, located in northeastern Oklahoma, encompasses approximately forty square miles of tribal and non-tribal land. This area has a long history of lead and zinc mining (1900–the 1960s) and both water and soil are heavily contaminated with mine wastes as a result. These wastes include lead, cadmium, iron, zinc, and sulfate. The majority of these mine sites are on the lands of the Quapaw Tribe, although a significant number of other tribes are affected by runoff, groundwater issues, and stream water flow contaminated by these mines (Datin and Cates, 2002). Datin and Cates (2002) further state that most “[i]mportantly, tribal lands bear the burden of much of the pollution” (p.4) generated by these extractive operations.

Historically this area was covered in tall-grass prairie, and after the native herds of buffalo were hunted to near extinction, the area was briefly used for agriculture. However, the discovery of lead in the area, and in particular on Indian lands, placed great pressure on the United States government to open these ceded reservation lands for mining. By the late 1800s, the government addressed this pressure by negotiated mining leases on behalf of the tribes and lead and zinc began flowing out of these areas. Over time, contaminated mine waste accumulated in large amounts and toxic levels of lead, cadmium, iron, zinc, and sulfate leached into the soil and water. Elevated levels of lead are common in the blood samples of local children, most of whom are Native American. Studies show that as many as 38% of these children have dangerously high levels, disposing them to learning disabilities and irreparable neurological harm. Likewise, kidney disease brought on by high levels of cadmium in the environment affects many in the area (Roosevelt, 2004).

While pollution problems have been addressed, cleanup may never be complete at the Tar Creek Superfund Site. The past decision to open tribal lands for mining by the United States government still, as pointed out previously, primarily impacts Native Americans. In other words, by negotiating leases not with but for the tribes, the United States government tapped into the educationally induced voiceless-ness, passivity, and dependency of these peoples to favorably address pressure from commercial interests. Although at the time that this decision was made the environmental hazards of lead and zinc mining were not well understood, it was the vulnerability of the Native American community which the United States government accessed and used that constitutes environmental in-justice.

Other cases of mine-related environmental in-justice involve current or recent mining that poses a threat. During the late 1970s rising gold prices initiated a modern-day gold rush of sorts in the American west. In 1979 the Zortman and Landusky Mining companies began mining operations on traditional and still disputed former tribal lands in the Little Rocky (Island) Mountains of Montana. This area, while technically outside tribal lands (Ft. Belknap Reservation), remains part of the larger watershed which drains most of the reservation. In turn, this guarantees that pollution generated at the mine site can and does make its way onto tribal lands. These operations had been rigorously opposed by the tribal government yet the Ft. Belknap Reservation found itself voiceless.

Over time, the Montana Department of Environmental Quality, in spite of tribal opposition and demonstrable signs of environmental pollution and degradation on tribal land, issued multiple expansion permits for the mining operations. As the extraction efforts continued, large amounts of rocky waste materials capable of leaching acidic runoff were generated and dangerously contaminated areas grew within the mining compound. Additionally, large quantities of waste water were stored in specially constructed lagoons and cyanide-contaminated earthen pads used to leach gold from the ore increased in number.

When the two mines, now consolidated into one corporation (Pegasus), declared bankruptcy in 1998, operations ceased and the mining compound was abandoned. As the abandoned site continued to age and deteriorate the Fort Belknap Indian Reservation was left to deal with the cleanup of the site and the associated watershed (Emel and Krueger, 2003). In 2002, Schenck-Smith, reporter for the Billings (Montana) Gazette noted that the cleanup had been estimated to have a $63.5 million price tag.

As with the Tar Creek site, some cleanup actions were ultimately negotiated and carried out at the Zortman-Landusky mine site and areas affected by its operations. However, like many heavily contaminated sites, full remediation is not feasible.

Finally, an excellent example of “voluntary” and socioeconomically driven environmental in-justice is found in a report given by Gowda and Easterling in Risk Analysis (2000). In the early 1990s, the federal government concluded that forced placement of environmentally hazardous handling and storage facilities was not in its own best interest. Therefore, it was decided to seek as a gesture of fairness and equity, a volunteer site for its monitored retrievable storage (MRS) high-level civilian nuclear waste facility. With a very generous purse of monetary incentives, the government began openly inviting proposals from bidders. They were disappointed however, when the only serious contenders which remained after an initial evaluation of the proposals, turned out to be Native American tribal governments, with a total of twenty-four tribes applying for the initial study grants. While it is unclear exactly what forces, whether greed or need, drove decisions to invite the placement of these hazardous storage facilities on tribal lands, it is clear that the perceived risk of such a facility outweighed the monetary benefits for all others. Ultimately Congress scuttled this program in 1995 due in part to opposition from state governments. However, two of the final four contenders, the Mescalero Apache of New Mexico, and the Skull Valley Band of Goshute of Utah, were approached by a consortium of nuclear utilities, headed by Northern States Power Company (NSP), concerning the possibility of siting a civilian nuclear storage facility on tribal lands. Still believing that the risk for money trade was in their best overall interest, both entered into negotiations with the NSP-headed group. According to the National Congress of American Indians, ultimately the Skull Valley Band of Goshute entered into an agreement to locate such a facility on their tribal lands. The Goshute find this tradeoff acceptable because it is one of the few viable development options which they have. Their lands have also been used for chemical disposal and ammunition testing (Gowda and Easterling, 2000).

RECAP

A search of the literature did not reveal any studies to date showing a direct link between environmental in-justice and past education for Native Americans, although circumstantial evidence makes this a plausible hypothesis. As Pulido (2000) has suggested, in order to better understand the present, it is often necessary to look past the current injustices and to reflect on the histories that have permitted such injustices to develop and persist. A careful and thoughtful look at the educational policies which the American government implemented to accomplish their goal of cultural homogenization and hastened cultural evolution, reveals that, for Native Americans, the results were disastrous. Often cultural identity, wisdom and values were lost; a functional academic foundation of reading and writing went missing; a passive sense of defeat encompassed many; and poverty ensued. Vulnerability to environmental in-justice easily took root and flourished in this milieu and its effects still haunt tribal lands and tribal communities in the present.

Concerning this particular history, Robbins et. al. (2006) contend that “because they [Indian children] were removed from their homes and families, their identities as Indians were shaped by external forces [the boarding school]” (p. 757). Moreover, the literature documents the inadequate academic foundation given to most of these students (Adams, 1995; Fixico, 2003; Fraser, 2001; Rehner and Eder, 2004; Robbins, 2006; Spring, 2005) which worked to set in place the treadmill of voiceless-ness, passivity, poverty, and dependency that has permitted acts of environmental in-justice toward Native American communities. As Grande (2004) explains, “exploitation manifests through the marginalization and exclusion of the voices of indigenous peoples…[and] the contemporary struggles of Native peoples are virtually ignored” (pp.64–65).

Although in many instances Native Americans continue to be marginalized and exploited, there is a strong and growing movement to address past losses by regaining tribal culture, language, and knowledge. This effort is frequently spearheaded by reservation schools such as the White Clay Immersion School on the Ft. Belknap Reservation. Likewise, a network of tribal colleges that embed tribal culture into all courses taught, serves a number of reservation communities. De-education has taken its toll on Native Americans; re-education in cultural ways is designed to heal these same people.

American education has taken many twists and turns as it has traveled through time. It has been asked to do and be many things. But perhaps one of the least honorable things it has been called upon to do is the de-education of Native Americans with the aim of re-education in the Euro-American image. The legacy of this dishonorable deed does indeed remain today, visible in many ways, and environmental in-justice in the tribal communities of America is one of the most glaring reminders of this legacy. However, in considering the plight of tribal lands and tribal groups, it is important, as Tuck (2009) and Brasfield (2001) both point out, to recognize that while instances of environmental in-justice are plentiful, these communities must not be thought of as broken, without hope or in need of rescue, for within them is a deep cohesiveness and resiliency that remains.