Minding the Indigenous Mind: How the practice of mindfulness can contribute to Indigenous Education

        Mindful Greetings Friends and Relatives,

The Buddha once said, “We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world.” In this column I want to advocate for the use of mindfulness practices in schools that serve and educate Indigenous youth. I believe that mindfulness is an activity that teachers, administrators, school boards, parents, and students should regularly engage in; it can be easily incorporated into the health and wellness curriculum of the school. Mindfulness is a practice that enables one to improve their thinking and to train their mind and attention to attain greater levels of awareness, stability, concentration, and calm. In this column I will define mindfulness, its significance, and its linkages to neuroscience and Indigenous cultural traditions.

An Exercise in Mindfulness

            Before launching into the reasons why mindfulness is appropriate in schools that education Native youth, I want readers to experience for themselves a simple breath counting exercise that is commonly used in mindfulness practice. It is an exercise that helps establish a foundation for deeper attention and awareness.  If you start to fall asleep or find it difficult to concentrate due to racing thoughts, twinges of anxiety or restlessness, pleasant or unpleasant memories, and body aches and pains during this exercise, just remember that this is normal when you are beginning to learn how to “tame” your mind. However, as you gently press yourself into a consistent routine of practice, you will find yourself entering into deeper and more sustained states of awareness, calm, and well being. The distractions in your life will gradually become quieter and less troublesome.   

1. To begin with find a quiet place where you won’t be disturbed.

2. Get into a comfortable position sitting in chair or cross-legged on the floor. If you choose the floor you can sit on a pillow or a cushion to help support you and to reduce the strain on your knees. As you get into your sitting position make sure that you keep your back straight but relaxed and your neck aligned with your spine. Your head should be held as if you are balancing a ball on top. If you choose to sit in a chair make sure that both feet are resting flat on the floor.

3. Relax your shoulders and rest your hands, palms down, on the top of your legs if you’re sitting in a chair. If you are on the floor rest your hands on your lap, knuckle side down. One hand can rest inside the other, with palms facing upward, fingers slightly and gently curled up, and thumbs lightly touching. Take a deep breath and settle into a relaxed, balanced position that feels grounded and calm.

4. Close your eyes and bring your attention to your breathing. Settle into your breath but don’t force it. Just allow it be as natural as possible. Allow yourself to experience what this natural, relaxed breathing feels like for a bit.

5. When you are ready begin counting silently to yourself: Count 1 on your first in-breath, 2 on the out-breath, 3 on the in-breath, and 4 on the out-breath. Repeat this pattern and continue counting for the next five minutes.  

6. If any thoughts come up that distract you away from your counting. Observe their content and how they make you feel, but do not get attached to them or judge them. Just allow them to be and as soon as you remember return to counting your breaths. It’s important not to get frustrated or judge yourself when you get distracted. Just stay relaxed and continue to return to your breathing and counting, remembering that it is your anchor.

7. When you are ready gently open your eyes, continue to let your breathing be relaxed and natural. Take a deep, cleansing breath and observe how you feel and what your surroundings look like. Write down what this experience was like. Was it pleasant, difficult, or relaxing? How did it make you feel? If you are an educator or parent, after you try it, you might help your students or child(ren) practice this exercise.

 What is Mindfulness?

Mindfulness refers to being deeply aware of what is happening from moment to moment outside and inside us, without judging or attaching to the content, feelings, and emotions that arise. It refers to living deeply and richly in the present moment and not responding to life in a distracted and mechanical manner. For instance, when a student learns how to mindfully count his or her breaths, she or he will develop a greater awareness of his or her breathing. She or he will notice if the breaths that are taken are long, relaxed, and deep or short, rushed, and shallow. With this awareness she or he can make adjustments to  so that their breathing more tranquil and efficient.  After some time the student and teacher will notice that the deeper calm, awareness, and ability to concentrate that is acquired can be carried over to other activities in and out of school.

The Significance of Mindfulness

Mindfulness is one of the fasting growing approaches in the helping and healing professions. In a book entitled “The Clinical Handbook of Mindfulness,” (2008, edited by Fabrizio Didonna) several of the contributors to this text share how mindfulness approaches are becoming well-known in the field of psychology due to growing body of evidence that shows the positive effects these interventions have when treating a number of behavioral and psychological conditions. In the book, “Mindfulness-based Treatment Approaches,” (2005, edited by Ruth A. Baer) mindfulness-based treatment approaches are credited with successfully treating anxiety, depressive relapse, eating disorders, psychosis, and borderline personality disorder. In a paper entitled, “The benefits of being present: Mindfulness and its role in psychological well-being,” (2003, written by Kirk Warren Brown and Richard M. Ryan), mindfulness is credited with improved self-regulated behavior, positive emotional states, and declines in mood disturbance and stress.

A growing number of K-12 schools in the U.S., with students from many different ethnicities and socioeconomic backgrounds are using mindfulness practices to improve academic performance and deal with student stress and behavior. For instance, The Garrison Institute, an organization dedicated to transformation of society through contemplative methods, compiled a major report in 2005 on the use of mindfulness in grades K-12. Several schools participated in this study and reported that students who learned mindfulness practices developed a number of noble qualities: emotional balance and intelligence, peacefulness, well being, compassion, gratitude, empathy, confidence, a sense of safety, forgiveness, and love.  Teachers also benefited: reduced stress, more alertness and patience, and less reactivity.

Linking Mindfulness Practices with Neuroscience

 The value of mindfulness practices such as meditation is supported by a wealth of scientific findings. One important discovery linking mindfulness and the brain is neuroplasticity, which refers to our brain’s ability to change its neurons and reorganize its networks and functions due to new experiences. When a student learns something his or her brain forms new connections between brain cells. As she or he practices and memorizes what was learned, networks become stronger, enabling the person to become more accomplished at whatever task has been undertaken.

When a student practices mindfulness a number of important circuits in the brain are positively affected. For instance, the Amygdala, a region in the brain that is associated with fear, anxiety, and aggression, quiets down and the left side of the prefrontal cortex of the brain, an area located approximately behind and above the left eyebrow, is activated. Research has shown that this area is associated with happiness, well being, and an enhanced immune response.

 In the book, “How God Changes Your Brain,” (2009) neuroscientists Andrew Newberg and Mark Robert Waldman state that “As neural functioning begins to change, different circuits become activated, while others become inactivated. New dendrites are formed, new synaptic connections are made, and the brain becomes more sensitive to subtle realms of experience.” Newberg and Waldman report that the research has consistently established that mindfulness practices such as meditation, positive thinking, and visualization change the structure and function of our brains and improve our health, optimism, and performance. In one study, renowned neuroscientist Richard Davidson and colleagues (2007) concluded that, “When the framework of neuroplasticity is applied to meditation, we suggest that the mental training of meditation is fundamentally no different than other forms of skill acquisition that can induce plastic changes in the brain.”

The Linkage between Mindfulness and

 Indigenous Cultural Traditions

Although many people associate mindfulness and meditation with eastern spiritual traditions, almost all human cultures have engaged in practices that include the use of deep, focused thought, listening, and attention. This is particularly true of Indigenous Peoples throughout the world. When spiritual leaders taught sacred rituals to the uninitiated members of the tribe (mainly the youth), it was required that the novice engage in concentrated, uninterrupted attention to what was being presented, its meanings, and how it was connected to the traditions of the people. Among some tribes, before youth would be introduced to certain sacred practices they might be required to undergo a purification process where they would be spiritually cleansed so that their minds and hearts would be in a good place (without negative thoughts or feelings). Children were reminded that bad thoughts and lack of focus would taint their experience and their ability to learn. 

            When young people were passing into adulthood many would be guided into the formal process of “vision-seeking” to understand their purpose in life and how their actions would contribute to the well-being of the tribe. The preparation for vision-seeking was long, intense, and challenging. It required deep mindfulness and long periods of meditation, which focused on what was being sought (a vision, special healing powers, or insights). It also required one to focus on the process: an uninterrupted, steady focus and awareness of the special prayers and songs that were to be used, and an interpersonal humility and maintenance of pure, compassionate thoughts. 

In closing, many Indigenous youth are not given the opportunity, nor are they pressed, to engage in formal mindfulness practices to improve their well being. While it may not be appropriate for school personnel to direct students in cultural mindfulness practices, they can implement mindfulness into the school setting. Developing mindfulness is not easy but it is worth doing since it is culturally appropriate, easy to implement, low cost, and it works. Mindfulness involves systematic training and practice and is a process that takes place over time. However, dramatic, positive changes can occur when one gently and consistently practices mindfulness. It is a journey that is well worth it for native students and those that teach them; for when they are invited to enter into states of deep awareness and concentration their worlds, experiences, and lives become much richer, less fearful and angry, more vivid, creative, peaceful, and healed. Raising the educational success and well being of Indigenous students is just one mindful breath away.

Michael Yellow Bird, MSW, Ph.D., is an enrolled member of the Three Affiliated Tribes and a professor and the director of graduate education  in the Department of Social Work at Humboldt State University, Arcata, CA. His teaching, writing, research, and community work focuses on social work with Indigenous Peoples, neurodecolonization, neuroscience and social work, and employing mainstream and traditional Indigenous mindfulness practices in tribal communities to promote health and well being. He leads a regular morning mindfulness practice for staff, students, and faculty in his department. He can be reached by email at:  mjy9@humboldt.edu 

Counting Coup! A Fictional Halloween Tale of Suspense and Cultural Awareness

I was out doing the tricks or treat thing this evening and saw a couple dressed up like Indians. I did a double take because they looked like an old traditional enemy tribe...so I attacked them, counted coup, war whoops; all that Hollywood, John Wayne stuff. When I realized they were just a couple of little white kids, I ceased my attack. After they got up, broken fake feathers and all, I told them I was "honored" that they were dressing up like Indians. They didn't say much and ran away before they could thank me for honoring them. Yeah, right. Gratitude! 

I left and went around the corner and saw another couple dressed up like Indians; looked like an enemy tribe again...so I attacked. Kicked the hell out of them; gave 'em a couple of pretty hard, stiff Tomahawk chops - all that Atlanta Braves, Washington Redskins, Indian Mascot stuff, and they went down. When I realized it was an old white couple, the grandparents of the little kids I attacked earlier, I put away my weapons and helped them up and told them I was "honored" that they were dressed up like Indians. Between their moans of pain they were shouting something to me; sounded like F this and F you. Yeah, right. Gratitude! 

But, I actually didn't hear what they said because I saw another person that was dressed up like an enemy tribe; had to attack him too. Turned out he was some little white dude from HSU. I helped him up and told him I was sorry that I had mistaken him for an enemy tribe. Before I could tell him I was honored by him dressing up like an Indian, he started apologizing; something about taking a diversity training and he should have known better... What a night! 

When I go back home to my rez and tell my folks what I did tonight I'm pretty sure they're gonna give me some beautiful Pendleton blankets, a feast, and 3 eagle feathers. Probably dance all night. Probably make me a Chief! I was thinking that out here if I actually did this I would get 5 years in jail for assault. Man, it's tough being from another culture; but still can't wait till next year. Happy Halloween!

Minding the Indigenous Mind - Decolonizing Social Work, Snatching Indigenous Children

Mindful Greetings Friends and Relatives,

In this column I share a story about how a social worker removed children from my home when I was a child. These relatives had come to live with us during times of hardship and my parents, especially my mother, had embraced them with a strong, unconditional, abiding love. And even though I already shared a close bond of friendship and brotherhood with my younger cousin who came to stay with me that summer, after living with us during this time, I believed that my bond of loyalty and friendship to him was unbreakable; until he was snatched away by a social worker.

I was moved to share this story after reading an article entitled, “Native Foster Care: Lost Children, Shattered Families,” that was posted on October 11, 2011 on the National Public Radio (NPR) website. The article reported that “Nearly 700 Native American children in South Dakota are being removed from their homes every year, sometimes under questionable circumstances.” The NPR investigation found that the state is failing to place the children according to the Indian Children Welfare Act of 1978 and that 32 other states also are failing to abide by the law as well. Although what is happening to these Lakota children and their families is unlawful and outrageous, having been a social worker for five years and a social work professor for nearly 20, I am not surprised, but yet I am outraged, that the illegal abduction of Native children continues unabated.

There are four main issues that I believe contribute to this situation: First, there has been no significant enlightenment in colonial society’s attitudes towards Indigenous Peoples and our rights. Second, Indigenous child welfare is situated in the colonial social services industrial-complex which is corrupt, broken, racist, genocidal, ineffective, and inefficient. Third, the system profits from the sickness, marginalization, and oppression of Indigenous Peoples. Fourth, the system’s engines are fueled by paradigms of Western social work that are embedded in the fantasies of American Exceptionalism, a belief that the United States occupies a special place among or above all nations of the world.

Because Schools and departments of Social Work are strategic cogs in the machinery of the social services industrial-complex, in truth, very few programs are interested in truly equipping their students, the next generations of social workers, to overthrow this racist, oppressive structure. Don’t get me wrong: there are honest, courageous, ethical social workers fighting for the rights of those they work for. But, in most cases, social work programs do little to teach students how to decolonize themselves or their profession. For instance, very few programs teach their students how to directly and intelligently subvert the racist rules of the system. Indeed, social work has no equivalent of “The 48 Laws of Power” that they can use to instruct their students to radically reform the racist, colonial structure. Few programs teach students they must stand side-by-side with Indigenous Peoples against the machine called the United States of America. Few programs teach them that they must “occupy” the imperialist social services and social work, and when necessary go to jail for standing up for the rights of Indigenous Peoples. This is beginning decolonized social work and it is an antidote to prevent the snatching of Indigenous children.

The Abduction

My first experience with social workers happened when I was about six or seven years old. When I recently reminded my mother about this encounter, even though what had happened occurred more than fifty years ago, she winced in distress and said, “Yes. I remember that day. It was awful. I still don’t like to talk about it.” I was quiet for a while respecting the fence she had suddenly erected to protect herself from that time. When it seemed that the tenseness had left her I continued by saying, “I think I was about eight years old when that happened.” She replied, “You were only six or seven; maybe younger. You were just a little boy. When I used to think back to that time and all that happened I used to wonder what ever made you want to be a social worker.”

In my community, we all knew that the light, green-colored car with black lettering on the doors belonged to the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA). We knew the tall, bald-headed White man that drove the car and smiled and waved at us was the BIA social worker. We knew he took children from our community and sent them away to boarding schools or to live with White families, especially those kids that had parents that were poor or drank a lot. We knew that what he did broke the hearts of many parents.

Sometimes the kids that he took away came home; sometimes they didn’t. Off and on, over the years, as we grew up we would hear about someone from our community that had died and how their relatives had brought them home to be buried. But we didn’t really know them, only the family name, since they had been adopted out to a White family or gone to a boarding school and then went to live in the city, never to return until their death.

It was a hot, shimmering summer afternoon when the green BIA car drove up to my house. As usual, my Mom and Dad’s place was bustling with many relatives laughing, eating, and carrying on multiple conversations in English and Arikara. The aromas of fresh baked bread, corn soup, and coffee drifted pleasantly throughout the house. My cousin and I had walked into all of the activity by way of the back door after spending much of the morning playing out back in a nearby row of trees. As the day warmed we positioned ourselves out in the open, away from the shade of the trees to enjoy the gentle heat of the Sun on our shirtless, little brown bodies.

Our conversations that morning had centered on two things. The first was whether some of the older men in the community would stop by my mother’s house for lunch and, after eating, organize another “Indian Dance” contest among the neighborhood kids. They brought a hand drum and sang several traditional dance songs in the yard behind the BIA house we lived in. They laughed and laughed as we did our best dance moves and picked out the best dancers and paid them. Third place won a nickel, second a dime, and first a whole quarter (big money in those days). The second topic was arguing about whom was the best and most accurate mud ball thrower of all of the neighborhood kids. It was a critical question since our most important boyhood game was playing war; and if you had the best mud ball thrower on your side chances were you might survive the battlefield carnage.

As my cousin and I walked into room amid all the activity, from the living room window, which was squarely in front of me, I could see the bald White man getting out of the BIA car. I watched him as he studied the different the cars in front of our house, looking at the license plates and then looking inside each one as if someone might be hiding in one of the cars. After a few moments he turned towards our house, walked up to our front door, knocked, and entered without being invited in. Once inside, he glanced around at all of the activity, smiled, reached into the back pocket of his pressed black pants, and took out his handkerchief and wiped his nose. He put folded it and tucked it into the front pocket of his white shirt. He continued scanning the room until he made eye contact with my mother.

“Hello Mrs. Yellow Bird,” he yelled over all of the noise. “I’ve come for the children. Are they ready?” With that remark all conversation immediately ceased and everyone looked at him. There was a long pause before my mother spoke. “Yes. They’re ready,” she said as she got up from the kitchen table where she had been visiting with several of my aunts.

She slowly walked toward my cousin standing next to me, gently put her arm around his shoulders and guided him toward my other cousins that had gathered in a small, tight circle in the middle of the room. She gazed at them with intense pain in her face, while at the same time trying to smile at them.

“It’s time to go with Mr. Herman,” she said. “He’s going to take you to a real nice school.” Then all hell broke loose! My cousins started screaming and crying and began hiding behind my mother, who burst into tears. My sisters, girl cousins, and aunts all started crying too. But us boys just stood still, frozen with confusion, paralyzed by what was happening. I wish I could say, all these years later, we boys fought back with everything we had; little brown fists flying and hard mud balls striking and disabling the enemy. But there were no warriors among us this day. There was no resistance, no defense; just little boys suffering from the paralyses that war sometimes brings to those that have been engaged for too long.

As my cousins were led outside by the social worker and my weeping mother, I unfroze enough to move to the window to watch them loaded into the green car. They continued crying holding on to my mother’s dress, fighting hard against the grips of the bald White man as he forced them into the backseat of the car. One by one he put them inside the mobile prison; and once they were in all of the fight dissipated from their little bodies, which enabled him to slam and lock the door. He looked at my mother as she stood there crying, looking in the windows at my cousins. He ran quickly to the driver’s side, got in and began to drive away.

I don’t remember my mother coming back into the house, but as I turned away from the window after the green car went out of sight, I saw her sitting back at the table with her face buried in the palms of her hands crying uncontrollably, rocking back and forth, loudly repeating, “I wanted to keep them! I wanted to keep them!”

All around her stood my aunts, sisters, and girl cousins deeply sobbing and wiping the tears from their eyes. But us boys, we just stood there, unable to cry, glancing at one another and the floor.

Michael Yellow Bird, MSW, Ph.D., is an enrolled member of the Three Affiliated Tribes and a professor and the director of graduate education in the Department of Social Work at Humboldt State University, Arcata, CA. His teaching, writing, research, and community work focuses on social work with Indigenous Peoples, decolonizing social work, neurodecolonization, neuroscience and social work, and employing mainstream and traditional Indigenous mindfulness practices in tribal communities to promote health and well being. He can be reached by email at: mjy9@humboldt.edu