A State of Emergency—A State of Grace

This past Sunday our wildly daring congregation made a decision to give a one time gift of $ 20,000 to the ReMember Capital Campaign. That is a good and generous and blessed thing. The conversation that led to the decision expressed the heartfelt desire to make a difference both in the lives of the people whose volunteerism would be enabled by the gift and the people on the receiving end of the volunteerism. It is humbling to ‘remember’ the courage found in our past year’s decisions and actions that would allow us to share a piece of our safety net with the ReMember ministry—just one of the ministries we support whose purpose is to make a difference in the lives of the Lakota people who live on the Pine Ridge Reservation. We thank God for the vision of those who have made this ministry their priority and for the ways that our ministry with Pine Ridge has transformed us as a congregation.

Yet in the afterglow of that moment, we hear that over the past month there have been a rash of teen suicides on the Pine Ridge Reservation—including 15 year old Santana, the beloved granddaughter of our friend and ReMember staff member Keith Janis. Perhaps worse, if that is possible, are the results of a google search on teen suicide at Pine Ridge. This is not something that happened just this month—rather the top ten results on google are headlines of “A Teen Suicide State of Emergency” from 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010… The headlines read: “Teen Suicide a Fact of Life on Native American Reservations”, and the stories identify the poverty, living conditions, history and systemic issues as the context for the emergency. The suicide rate amongst Native American teens runs from 4 to 10 times higher than the national rate and children as young as nine years old are killing themselves to find relief from the oppressive poverty, substandard living conditions, rampant sexual abuse, domestic and gang violence, 80-90% unemployment rate, lousy schools, historical trauma, contemporary discrimination, lack of opportunity—and hope.

I sat with this news more closely than I had in the past. Nine and ten year olds choosing suicide because there is no hope!? I found myself astounded and then so very, very sad. Joy and Kathy and the others who have volunteered have told us of this horror over and over again. Rev. Titus preached it when he was with us last fall. But today, it hit me deeper than it had in the past. A girl on the verge of womanhood, a child just like so many that we know, a beautiful 15 year-old child just like my beautiful child who will turn 15 this coming week—a child whose picture I had seen on facebook, whose grandfather’s life is connected to mine is gone, whose whole life lay in front of her. How could it be this bad? How could a child be so downtrodden? How could a child have no hope?

As this news arrived in my inbox, Rev. Tom arrived for a confab and spoke of the wonderful experience he has this past week connecting with the teens at Medford in the Middle, an afterschool program founded by our own Deb Soule and Maria Scott. Knowing the value of kids having a safe place to be with each other and supportive connections that help build character strength and resiliency, Tom is excited about what Medford in the Middle is doing. He is also motivated to strengthen that support by including those kids in our ministries with young people.
Later I walked across the street to Amici’s to get a salad, and there was a giggling gaggle of 20 teens delighted by each other’s company and the grown-up-ish chance to gather without parents and flirt and tease and buy themselves a slice and a coke. There was joy in the pizza parlor and on the surface those kids looked like the picture of health and happiness. Now, I know that all is not as it seems on the surface of any gathering of human beings and I know that there was a bunch of teen angst and social worry underneath the five minute sliver of sweet, silly teen time I watched. I know that there is alcoholism and drug addiction, sexual abuse, domestic violence, unemployment, bullying, fear, spiritual loss of values, learning disabilities and mental health issues woven into that gaggle. I know that there have even been thoughts of suicide crossing the minds of one or another of those teens.

But I also know that their privilege and their socio-economic standing (did I mention they were all Caucasian?) guarantees them a much greater chance than Santana Janis ever had that the support and resources and personal resiliencies needed to weather such things are available to them. These kids and my kid have health care and teachers who care. They have enough money to be able to buy a slice of pizza and a back pack to carry the books that our school system provides. They are going home to a house that has heat, electricity, running water and maybe even their own room. Most of them have two parents at home who expect to live past the age of 50. And all of those kids have standing in our society based on the color of their skin that assures them there is opportunity for them if they simply reach out and grab it.

Beloved, we are so blessed and our children are so blessed. We have so much and our children have so much. Santana had a family that loved her and a grandfather that cherished her—and still it was not enough to overcome the impact on her spirit of generations of debilitating injustice and racism—conditions for which I believe we are responsible. Love is not enough. Preaching about it is not enough. Posting about it is not enough. The $20,000 gift to ReMember won’t do it either. It may save one or another of those beautiful children—but it is not enough. So what are we to do?

We have a sense of how our call to be sanctuary will move us to be with and support those kids at Amici’s and at Medford in the Middle with the kind of love, care and community that will serve them if they come to a place of hopeless. I know how to do that with my 15 year old (“with a little help from my friends”). There must be a way for us to express that same call in big picture, systemic ways that will change the institutional racism, the governmental ignorance, the cultural dismissal of a people whose storied history precedes ours and whose spiritual stature in one from whom we might learn and grow. I pray that we might be sanctuary and work for justice for Santana. May we pray for Santana, for all those affected by suicide and for teens everywhere.

Rev. Wendy Miller Olapade