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JOHN BIEWEN: I spent some time earlier this summer with the DeVaults, a Native American family on the Leech Lake Indian Reservation in Northern Minnesota, and this documentary is the result. Main Street Radio Productions are made possible by a major grant from the Blandin Foundation. Here now is Dancing on Beat: Portrait of a Reservation Family.

[CHICKEN CACKLING]

BO DEVAULT: I got him.

JOHN BIEWEN: For Bo DeVault, a barefoot four-year-old, chasing chickens in the dirt outside his family's trailer on the Leech Lake Indian Reservation is a favorite pastime. He catches a hand in his arms and squeezes it, smiling proudly before letting it go.

BO DEVAULT: Hey, let's get that one away.

JOHN BIEWEN: Bo is tireless, despite the 90-degree heat. He scrambles onto what's left of an old truck sitting in the yard, just its hood propped up at an angle, which he uses as a slide.

WILLIAM JACKSON: Watch where you're going.

JOHN BIEWEN: That's Bo's cousin, William Jackson, on a bicycle. William, who is five, lives with his mother in a house just 50 yards or so from the DeVaults' trailer. Altogether, there are half a dozen small houses and trailers clustered around a looped gravel road in this clearing in the woods, a few miles outside the reservation village of Inger.

Bob and Beverly DeVault and their four children live at the end of the loop in an old trailer with a plywood addition on one side and a large TV antenna rising from the roof.

BEVERLY DEVAULT: Well, my grandma and grandpa moved here first. My dad moved them from Inger. There was nothing out here. He owned it for a long time. And we finally moved out here in 1967.

JOHN BIEWEN: Beverly DeVault, Bo's mother, is 36. She's one of five sisters who live on this plot of land with their parents. The land was allotted to the Jackson family by the reservation around the turn of the century. The DeVaults' trailer is the center of activity for the extended family.

BEVERLY DEVAULT: My dad moved here from Inger.

JOHN BIEWEN: Beverly's sisters and their children come in and out freely and frequently. The trailer is furnished with a long couch and an assortment of kitchen chairs, all very well-worn. The ceiling is patched with a large piece of white Styrofoam where the gas stove started a fire last winter. The walls are covered with a couple different varieties of plywood paneling and hung with oil paintings by Bob DeVault and a number of Bo's crayon drawings from last year's head-start classes.

With a fan humming nearby, Beverly, a tall, large-boned woman with calm, dark eyes, sits at the small kitchen table and runs her fingers over a plate of wild rice, picking out hulls missed in the parching process.

BEVERLY DEVAULT: The way everyone around here does it is they parch it on a fire. They have a big cast iron kettle. That's what my ma uses. They build a fire on it, and then it's sideways. It's setting sideways. And then they use a paddle and just turn it and turn it and turn it till it's-- they know when it's done. It's called-- that's what they call parching it. Then thrash it, and it gets all this stuff out here, but it doesn't get it all out.

JOHN BIEWEN: Native Americans on reservations are reputed to be mistrustful and reticent toward outsiders. But I find the DeVaults gracious and open. Teenagers Roberta and Penny, who are 16 and 13, are quick to get out their jingle dresses to show me how they dance at powwows.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: I can do it better when you start it.

PENNY: I don't want to start it. You start it.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: Go ahead, go ahead.

[TIN CANS JINGLING]

JOHN BIEWEN: The satin dresses, one purple, the other brown, have hundreds of jingles, pieces of tin cans or snuff covers rolled into cones and sewn on to the dresses in rows. Roberta, who goes by Bobbie, says, there's a powwow every weekend in the summer. She suggests the dancing is not for evoking the past, but rather says a lot about who she is.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: You're like Indian if you go to a powwow and stuff like that. But if you don't, they'll say, oh, you're acting all white and everything. And it's really important to the Indian and stuff.

JOHN BIEWEN: The DeVaults are among the 5,000 Chippewa who live on Leech Lake, but they admit they are not in every way typical. They are carving out a life on the reservation, a life that is at least partly Indian. But at the same time, they are fighting to avoid the problems that devastate so many of their people. The word "pride" is spoken often in the DeVault's house, or sometimes it's just hinted at, like when Bobbie talks about always trying to dance well.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: You have to-- when you're dancing to the music and stuff, you have to make sure it sounds right. And it's really hard when you're dancing by someone that doesn't dance too good. And if they dance off beat, you could hear the dress.

And it's really hard to-- you end up start dancing like them. But it's really hard to keep dancing good when someone else is dancing off-beat by you.

[CAR ENGINE ROARING]

BOB DEVAULT: A little backing up. Take your time.

JOHN BIEWEN: Bob DeVault drives the reservation's gravel roads in search of birch and basswood for the Indian crafts he and his family make for their summer livelihood. The average household income for Leech Lake Indians is about $7,500 a year. The DeVaults may be slightly better off than that, but not much. So the family makes do with old things, used things that Bob fixes up, like the 15-year-old Mazda pickup he bought for $250.

[RUSTLING]

In the woods, thick with mosquitoes, DeVault breaks branches off a small basswood trees. He wears jeans, work boots, and a T-shirt on his lean frame.

BOB DEVAULT: Here it goes.

[GRUNTS]

[RUSTLING, TWIGS BREAKING]

JOHN BIEWEN: The bark from the branches will be peeled and cut in strips, then used as thread, or [INAUDIBLE] to saw birch bark baskets together. The crafts the DeVaults make are ultimately sold in East Coast stores.

BOB DEVAULT: We're the only old Indian people who still respect the land and what it has to offer, the way they see it.

[SAW BUZZING]

I respect it because it's a resource.

JOHN BIEWEN: Bob says though he makes birch bark crafts using traditional Indian techniques, the work doesn't have the spiritual meaning for him that it does for some Native Americans. Birch bark, he says, is just his way of making a living.

Back at the DeVaults' trailer, Bob explains that the birch bark work earned his family about $5,000 last summer, enough to keep them off welfare for nearly half the year. He hopes eventually to find a way to store more bark through the winter to make it a year-round job.

BOB DEVAULT: I started about six years ago, seven, started out with the simple things my mother-in-law showed me. Then I noticed all this attention these white guys were getting for building canoes. They were in the magazines-- sports magazines. I got thinking, why isn't the Indian building his own canoe and getting some of the recognition? It takes a white man to build a birch bark canoe. The Indians should build their own canoes.

JOHN BIEWEN: Bob says he settled on craftwork as a way to get a new start in life after years of drinking. Alcoholism is epidemic on the reservation. People in angers say the village of 200 people has only a few adults who are not alcoholic. Bob DeVault says most in his generation were raised by parents who drank, and he was no exception.

BOB DEVAULT: My ma died. My dad turned to drinking after a few years. He was lonely and what have you, and a stack of bills. He had a rough time. So I didn't get no attention or guidance from my father. And I started drinking at 14 years old, fighting. I hated school. I'd miss half a year out of the school year. And I flunked two years in a row at one time. I turned 18 ninth grade.

The other kids would go to A&W. I'd go to the 3.2 beer joint and drink beer and go back to class, fall asleep on the desk. And they used told me I should just quit. So I just up and quit one day, tried to get a job for a while. And I couldn't keep that either, kept getting in trouble. I didn't have much choice than join the Marine Corps. And that's saved me.

JOHN BIEWEN: Bob says his stint in Vietnam with the Marines taught him the discipline to get his drinking under control, which he finally did about six years ago. Beverly DeVault's parents never drank and she doesn't either. Bob and Beverly suggest that being free of the bottle makes them outsiders in their community, with only a few other sober Indians to associate with.

EARL ROBINSON: I don't know what's wrong with the people here. They just don't-- they just don't care. And another way, I don't blame them because there's nothing to look forward to, no jobs.

JOHN BIEWEN: Earl Robinson, who is 72, is a respected elder in the village. He says in his childhood, people in Inger spoke Chippewa, got their sustenance mainly by hunting and fishing, and lived in tarpaper shacks with no electricity or running water.

EARL ROBINSON: But they weren't poor. I don't think-- I never did see really a poor, poor Indian. I think the Indians are worse off today than they were back then. Some people are. And this village itself really has been going downhill really, for the last 40 years.

JOHN BIEWEN: Robinson sits at a picnic table in his yard, wearing work clothes and a baseball cap. He remembers when there were few limits enforced on hunting or fishing, and when families could make substantial money harvesting wild rice. That was before paddy-grown rice drove prices way down.

In those days, Robinson says, the Ojibwe were more self-sufficient. And he says the drinking wasn't so bad then. Inger used to have enough sober and healthy young men to field an amateur baseball team.

EARL ROBINSON: And we had some real good teams, and we played some good teams. Well, we were the only Indian team. And we were all Indian. So the teams used to really go out for us. They want to knock us down flat. '53 and '54, we went to state tournament. And we beat everybody like-- by good games, like, 1 run, 2 runs or something like that all summer long.

It was fun. We all took a drum along with us. So we'd have a powwow after every ball game, win or lose. And the white teams used to join right with us. They'd be out there dancing just like we did, drinking beer and having a good time.

Nobody got ever riled up or never any fights. We got along good with the people that we played with and teams that played against us. You don't see that anymore. The things that-- the thing that ruins the ball teams here is drinking. They try to have a ball game-- ball team last summer, and they got thrown out of the league because they didn't show up because they were drunk.

I used to like to go to the ball games. I used to like to go to these ball games that went from here. I'd follow them all over the place and just watch them. But the last few years, I wouldn't go near them at all. Not that I'm ashamed of them, but I know what's going to happen. I hate to see them get out there and make fools of themselves. That's what they're doing.

JOHN BIEWEN: Robinson says the educational opportunities for Native Americans are greater than ever. Three of his own children have graduated from college and have good jobs. But he says they are in a small minority. Most Indian kids, if they do finish high school, go no further.

The problem, according to Earl Robinson, is in the families. Which he says have been undermined by the absence of jobs, of hope, of pride.

[CHILD MUMBLES]

The DeVaults would never admit to being special. But in a place where so many people manage to find community only in drunkenness and despair, the DeVaults are clearly determined to be among the healthy ones, to dance on-beat, despite the struggles of those around them.

It's about 9:30 PM at the DeVaults' place. Beverly and her sister, Sarah Jackson, are making supper, seasoned wild rice and fry bread, a fritter-like food that the kids eat with peanut butter.

BEVERLY DEVAULT: I got generic peanut butter this time.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: [GAGS]

SARAH JACKSON: [LAUGHS]

BO DEVAULT: Go!

ROBERTA DEVAULT: Where is the Skippy? Don't you love us?

[LAUGHTER]

BEVERLY DEVAULT: Yes, what's that?

SARAH JACKSON: Not that much.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: That's too much.

SARAH JACKSON: I'll put it in--

JOHN BIEWEN: After supper, Beverley rubs ointment all over her youngest, Bo, who's gotten dozens of new mosquito bites during the day.

BEVERLY DEVAULT: On your back because it's all chewed up.

JOHN BIEWEN: The older girls have gone to their grandmother's house. That's where they sleep now that their former bedroom in the trailer's addition has been turned into a workshop for birch barking. Daniel, the seven-year-old, sleeps soundly on the couch. He and Bo will be carried later to the bedroom in the back of the trailer that they share with their parents.

At 11:30, while Bob sweeps up in the workshop, Beverly finally gets to the dishes. I asked to talk with her about her children.

It's sort of an understatement. It's sort of obvious, but it seems like you care a lot about them.

BEVERLY DEVAULT: [GIGGLES] I do-- a lot. Everything revolves around our kids. Everything we do is for our kids. You'd figure after-- after they're grown up, we could do what we want to do then. If they have a good start in life, it seems like that's all they would need.

DANIEL DEVAULT: [SCREAMS]

ROBERTA DEVAULT: Daniel, let's get them. You're never going to get used to it till you just get down.

DANIEL DEVAULT: No--

PENNY DEVAULT: I'll take you-- I'll take you there. You wait.

DANIEL DEVAULT: No.

JOHN BIEWEN: Another summer day on Leech Lake. Bobbie and Penny try to coax their little brother Daniel into the cold water of Bowstring Lake, about a mile from their home. The temperature's in the 90s again, and the four DeVault children and two of their cousins have come to the lake to cool off.

[WATER SPLASHING]

PENNY DEVAULT: Hey, look, you can stand.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: Take-- walk him out there on your back.

JOHN BIEWEN: It's the end of the long 4th of July weekend. A ways out on the lake, several fishing boats are anchored. The people in them sit motionless, watching their lines. A pair of ducks flies away as a powerboat from a nearby resort roars past, pulling two water skiers. The children pay no attention.

DANIEL DEVAULT: You know we're here, Bob, catching your nose.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: He can't get off his place.

[POTS CLANKING]

JOHN BIEWEN: Outside the DeVault's trailer, Bob has arranged a makeshift grill by laying an oven shelf across some cinder blocks. Some friends, the Wilkinsons, a white, middle-aged couple who live in the woods not far away, have come over for a 4th of July cookout.

BOB DEVAULT: I believe these are done.

SPEAKER: Are they my hamburgers, Bob?

BOB DEVAULT: Yeah, yeah.

SPEAKER: They can eat over about one of them, Penny.

BOB DEVAULT: Got here about three.

SPEAKER: He's skinny. Guys are all that.

JOHN BIEWEN: Bob DeVault says, as far as he's concerned, this gathering isn't really a celebration of America's independence, which, as he puts it, didn't do the Indian any good.

BOB DEVAULT: Don't have much significance other than everybody has a barbecue or something. I do it, too. Christmas, you buy the kids presents. The same thing, I don't practice religion. But when the kids go to school, other kids get presents. Their parents might tell them about religion.

But I do it just because it's-- because other kids get gifts, too, and they talk about what they get. Other than that, I probably wouldn't celebrate Christmas, really. So I'm stuck between two cultures. I choose not to believe in either one of them, but just better points in each one of them.

JOHN BIEWEN: Many reservation Indians, unlike Bob DeVault, make a clear choice between the cultures.

[DRUMBEATS]

[CHANTING]

That night, about 1,000 people, mostly Indians with a few whites mixed in, attend the 4th of July powwow some 50 miles from the DeVaults' home on the outskirts of Cass Lake. The thinnest slice of moon hangs in the sky over the sacred circle, which is illuminated by stadium lights. A few hundred people in traditional dress move around the grass in small bouncing steps.

Many more sit in the grandstands surrounding the circle or mill about behind the bleachers where food and beverage stands are set up.

SPEAKER: Thank you. We'll go right back up to the top. Thanks.

JOHN BIEWEN: Bobbie and Penny DeVault are here, but they're in jeans and blouses, having decided not to dance tonight. They run off to find some friends. The atmosphere behind the grandstands reminds me of a county fair or a high school football game, where people socialize and perhaps boys meet girls.

The Ojibwe's slang term for that, I'm told, is snagging. But there's more going on here than just socializing.

SANDRA GOODSKY: When you think about the spiritual life, this is it.

JOHN BIEWEN: Sandra Goodsky says she grew up on the Leech Lake Reservation and now works for the schools in Duluth.

SANDRA GOODSKY: And when I dance out there, sometimes the drum will be beating just like my heartbeat. And it's a real spiritual connection. And at times, I get really emotional because it's so intense in a real spiritual way.

JOHN BIEWEN: Goodsky says after several generations in which the white society actively tried to strip Native Americans of their traditions, there's now a resurgence of Indian culture.

SANDRA GOODSKY: And I think in the '70s, when I was living in the cities, you could see a lot of the people coming back with the drums and the powwows. And it's just gotten bigger and better and stronger. And I think it's going to be a lot stronger.

[CHANTING]

[DISTANT TV NOISE]

JOHN BIEWEN: The balancing of cultures continues the next day at the DeVaults. Wheel of Fortune is on in the living room, keeping Beverly company while she cleans house. Meanwhile, in the workshop, Beverly's sister, Sarah Jackson, sews a thin willow branch around the rim of a small birch bark basket.

SARAH JACKSON: My mom used to do a birch bark before, but she'd only do it in the summer. They make different things, sand dishes, birdhouses, boats or canoes, whatever.

JOHN BIEWEN: Sarah Jackson is 41. She doesn't know her family's history more than a couple generations back. History books say the Ojibwe came to what is now Minnesota in the 1700s, pushed here from the East Coast by white settlers. They'd gotten firearms from trading with whites and used them to drive the Dakota or Sioux out of the area.

The treaty establishing the Leech Lake Reservation, one of seven Ojibwe reservations in Minnesota, was signed in 1855. Sarah Jackson.

SARAH JACKSON: What my dad said is Indians always lived on this continent. They said that-- from what they tell us, they made people, and they put them in different places and gave them their own religion and values and stuff, like the Caucasians across the ocean and the black people down in South America, I guess you'd call it, and the Indians here in North America.

And other people like Japan and Chinese, their own, because they have a legend where-- I don't know how it goes, but that's basically what I figured out to be.

JOHN BIEWEN: So then, when white people came here--

SARAH JACKSON: Yeah, it mixed it up. Am I supposed to say it? I don't know.

JOHN BIEWEN: The children playing nearby are Sarah's five-year-old son, William, whose father, she says, lives down the road and her two-year-old grandson, Jordan. Jordan is the son of Sarah's daughter who's in her early 20s.

SARAH JACKSON: She thought it was fun to have a baby just because she used to babysit William once in a while. She thought it was easy.

JORDAN: How come you didn't put in tight, ma?

JOHN BIEWEN: Sarah says she's been raising Jordan since he was 10 days old when her daughter declared that she couldn't take care of the child and left the state.

SARAH JACKSON: It was hard. I was mad at her for a long time, but then I figured, well, if she would have kept them, maybe she would abused him or something. So I figured I saved him from being hit or whatever.

JOHN BIEWEN: Teenage pregnancies are one more problem on the reservation. Bobbie DeVault can tick off the names of Indian girls in her high school who've had children. Bobbie attends Deer River High School, where most of the students are white. She doesn't like it there.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: You know them, you see them, those Indian schools they have, like Flandreau and stuff? I'm thinking about going to them. If you really like something, they'll help you with it. I was thinking about going to that next year.

JOHN BIEWEN: Why do you choose the Indian school?

ROBERTA DEVAULT: Because there's Indian kids there, and it's easier to get along, I think.

JOHN BIEWEN: You're not going to segregate yourself in later life, are you?

ROBERTA DEVAULT: No.

JOHN BIEWEN: Well, why do it when you're getting an education? You don't care and be the best among all of them.

BO DEVAULT: I went down there.

JOHN BIEWEN: A few miles from their home, Bobbie, Daniel and Bo lead the way along a wooded path to what's called the Turtle Mound, where a prehistoric woodland tribe thousands of years ago created a ceremonial carving in the ground. There's now a historical marker and a wooden fence around the site.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: I think they just made it a long time ago, and so it's like, there grew a big turtle was or something like that, like an imprint or something, I guess.

JOHN BIEWEN: Actually, Bobbie doesn't seem to be thinking much about the past these days, but a lot about the future. She wants to be a commercial artist. She says the reason she wants to transfer to a Native American school is that in her public school, Indians are given less help because it's assumed they will fail.

She tells of an incident last fall when she missed some school because of allergies and when she returned, a school administrator had jumped to conclusions about why she'd been absent.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: He said, well, Roberta, do you have a chemical problem? We can help you if you have a chemical problem. Does your mom just let you stay home, and-- oh, Roberta's mom just lets her do whatever she wants, huh? And I got mad at him, and then-- so I took off from school right after that.

And I called my mom and she come pick me up because I was just too mad to stay in school that day. I mean, to say, oh, Roberta, do you have a chemical problem? And all that stuff is like-- it's like, do you think all Indians are like that or something?

JOHN BIEWEN: In order to escape prejudice, Bobbie suggests she'll have to leave the reservation.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: Well, if I move somewhere, it would be like where there's-- in a city because it's like-- especially like on the West or the East Coast because there's all kinds of people. And they're not really that prejudiced.

And if I had a kid, I'd want to know-- I want him to know that there's prejudice. But I wouldn't want him to deal with it every day or something, or to be stereotyped to-- or just to-- I don't know, I think when you're stereotyped, you're held back or something.

JOHN BIEWEN: Bob DeVault worries a lot about the influences his children face and that he faces. It's the last morning of my visit. We talk over several cups of coffee before Bob goes out to collect birch bark. He gets a pained expression when talking about how few Indian friends he has anymore.

BOB DEVAULT: Because you hang around with successful people that it only makes you feel better. It makes you feel like trying more. I don't know if that would bring me down or hang around with them. I'd be socializing with them, drinking, and I might be drinking more and more and finally, back to where I was, alcoholic. No, I can't even associate with Indians.

JOHN BIEWEN: The smell of bacon finds its way into the workshop. Four-year-old Bo comes in and climbs on his father's lap. I asked Bob what he wants for his children.

BOB DEVAULT: Well, I just hope they'll want to do something on their own. I don't want them to be anything but a good person. I want them to have drive and ambition. And I want them to have a good life, that's all.

JOHN BIEWEN: Bob and Beverly DeVault say it makes no difference to them whether their children choose to live on the reservation or not. What does matter is that the children continue to care, to care about each other, and above all, to care about themselves. If they can only keep dancing to that beat, they will have defeated the odds. On the Leech Lake Indian Reservation in Northern Minnesota, this is John Biewen.

BO DEVAULT: I can right here.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: Bernie, do you want to come in the water?

BERNIE: I'll try.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: Bo, do you want to come in the water?

BO DEVAULT: No!

ROBERTA DEVAULT: Why not?

BO DEVAULT: Because it's too deep.

ROBERTA DEVAULT: It's not right here.

SPEAKER: Dancing on Beat: Portrait of a Reservation Family, was written and produced by John Biewen, edited by Kate Moos, research assistance from Susan Helena, studio engineer, John Getto. This program is a production of Minnesota Public Radio's Main Street radio team.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

BOB POTTER: It's about a half a minute now or half past the hour-- half past the hour as we continue now talking with Mike Bongo, who has joined us in the studios. Mike is a former resident of the Leech Lake Indian Reservation. And how long were you there, Mike?

MIKE BONGO: I was raised there and lived there from the time I was a very, very small child, an infant, as a matter of fact, up until seven years ago. So I spent, from my perspective, the vast majority of my life living on the reservation.

BOB POTTER: And Mike is currently director of the American Indian Opportunities Industrialization Center in Minneapolis, which is a jobs and training program, which we can find out a little bit more about as we continue as well. What did you think of that Half Hour, Mike?

MIKE BONGO: I thought from many perspectives that it was somewhat informative to the general public as a whole. Parts of it made me homesick, to be frank and honest with you.

Most urban Indian people that-- as I've become now in the past seven years that I've been in the urban area-- I left Leech Lake in 1982 because of the lack of employment opportunities and in search of a better way of life. And if you talk to the vast majority, 99% of the urban Indian people, I think what you will find is that their ultimate goal in life is to one day return back to the reservation, which they all consider to be home.

And so from my perspective, as I was saying, as I sat here and listened to it, it made me very homesick. It made me want to go out and get into the car and not go back to work and head straight up north to be with my family, to be frank and honest with you.

BOB POTTER: Well, you've got half a day left. Maybe you can sneak out a little early and do that.

MIKE BONGO: I just may do that. Thinking about it, Bob.

BOB POTTER: How typical do you think the DeVaults are of the people who live on Leech Lake? From what I heard, it sounds like they are not particularly typical, if in fact, the majority of people there are on alcohol.

MIKE BONGO: I think in a lot of ways that that is slowly but surely changing. But I think-- you have to understand, I think more and more Indian people are becoming chemically free, whether it be of alcohol or drugs in the reservation and urban area for that matter. And there are more and more programs that are starting to be developed to address the chemical dependency problems of Indian people.

One of the most successful treatment programs of Indian people is the Mishikawa In-Treatment Center in Fond Du lac. But as well on Leech Lake, they have a halfway house and a detox center and so forth. So there are programs that are available on a limited scale on the reservation.

But I think one of the things that people really have to understand relative to a lot of the problems-- and I'm not saying that those types of problems do not exist because they do exist, to be frank and honest with you. But one of the things that people have to understand is the fact that the lack of employment opportunities for Indian people on the reservation is really, from my perspective, at the root cause of many of the social illnesses that the people on the reservation are faced with.

The despair, as they alluded to-- the DeVaults alluded to, when you wake up in the morning and you don't have something to look forward to that day, whether it'd be going to work or whatever it is, despair sets in. And to escape from that despair, many of our people turn to alcohol.

BOB POTTER: Now, the DeVaults, in John Biewen's report, he did craftwork, and she apparently worked on wild rice and so on. But other than that, there apparently aren't that many job opportunities out there.

MIKE BONGO: That's very true. Probably, the largest employer in Leech Lake is with tribal government. And there are only so many of those jobs that are available. So the lack of economic opportunities is part of the problem that practically every reservation in the country faces.

BOB POTTER: What's to be done about that? How do you get some industry up there?

MIKE BONGO: That's a very interesting question because it's a question that's continuously asked. I think part of the answer to the question is the fact that we need to start looking at more and more-- developing more and more private Indian entrepreneurs on the reservation.

For example, in Leech Lake, the primary industry in Leech Lake is the tourism industry, and that's seasonal. But I don't believe, in many respects, that Indian people have fully captured that market or even began to, for that matter, in the nature or fashion that they need to look at it in order to generate the income.

I mean, there are non-Indians that are living on the lake, in resorts that in three or four months of the tourist season, make their living for the full year. And the economy, as I said, is very seasonal because the winters on the reservation are very difficult and very tough. I've lived there. I've experienced them. I know what it's like.

My feeling is, we need to look at more and more private entrepreneurship, teaching our people more and more skills related to developing businesses themselves that they can then become self-employed in many respects.

BOB POTTER: Mike Bongo is with us. He used to live on Leech Lake for a long time until he came down to the Twin Cities. He now runs the American Indian Opportunities Industrialization Center in Minneapolis. If you have a question for him about something you heard in the documentary and would like him to respond to it, give us a call.

In the Twin Cities area, the number is 227-6000, 227-6000, and outside Minneapolis, St. Paul, the toll-free number is 1-800-652-9700, 1-800-652-9700. Those of you living in the surrounding states can call us, too, at area code 612-227-6000.

Interesting discussion-- just move on to another topic briefly here before we take some listener calls. Interesting conversation between the father and the daughter about where she was going to go to school. She was interested in going to an Indian school, and he sort of felt that she ought to go to a standard public school. That's got to be a tough dilemma for a lot of Indian kids.

MIKE BONGO: It is. And I can sympathize with how the young lady was feeling because Indian people have a different set of values and standards, if you will, by which they live by and especially on the reservation.

I think in a lot of respects that the culture is more strong and more alive on the reservation areas than it is in the urban area to a large extent. But you have to understand that Indian people feel more comfortable in an environment with other Indian people as opposed to non-Indians.

That's why Indian alternative schools, tribal schools and so forth have been more successful at educating Indian people than the public school system as a whole because the children feel that they're in a more culturally conducive environment with people who understand their problems and needs and wants better than someone from, say, the dominant society.

BOB POTTER: Well, I'm sure it doesn't help either when the girl was sick for a few days and the automatic assumption was that she had a chemical-dependency problem.

MIKE BONGO: It's very true. And what happens in a lot of the reservations or public schools in and around the reservation is the fact that a lot of the children are pushed out and are lost in the shuffle in the system. I can relate stories to that myself going to high school.

The principal told me when I was a junior in high school, look, you don't want to be here. We don't want you here. Why don't you just quit? And I did. I literally walked out of the building with the intentions of never going back. And I got home and my mother was there, and she asked me why I was home from school so early.

And I told her what had happened. And she said to me, well, I tell you, if you quit, that's your decision, and that's up to you. But if you do quit, you're doing exactly what he wants you to do. And if I were you, I would go back and continue and not let him get the best of you because that's what he wants.

The next day, she had no trouble getting me up for school. I was up and out the door and I was at school on time. And I stayed there. And I thought to myself that-- and it really came to light for me personally that I wasn't going to allow non-Indian people who had stereotyped Indian people and especially with me to push me out.

And it's at that point in time in my life that I made up my mind that no matter what roadblock they put in in front of me, I wasn't going to let it stop me. I was determined to go around it. I was going to go through it. I was to go over it, but I wasn't going to quit.

BOB POTTER: Let's take some folks who have called up with questions for you, Mike. Mike Bongo, former Leech Lake Indian Reservation resident and now, director of the American Indian Opportunity Industrialization Center in Minneapolis. You're on the air with Mike, go ahead, please.

SPEAKER: Good afternoon, Mike.

MIKE BONGO: Good afternoon.

SPEAKER: I'd like to-- that was a very interesting documentary. And I've just did a little bit of reading about Indian ways and the Native American people. And I'm just wondering how much of the problems on the reservations and with Indian people have to do with the lack of pride and their spirituality from their elders and how much of that is involved in the prejudice that the white people have against the native ways.

MIKE BONGO: I think that-- to answer your question, I think that a lot of it has to do with the fact that Indian people have, in some respects, lost their pride on the reservation. But it's due to the fact that the economic despair at some point in time just simply overwhelms you.

And what happens, as I said earlier, in talking with Bob, that you lose sense of your values and your structure, and you become what we refer to as you fall out of balance with yourself. And when it happens, you need to turn to an escape. And many of our people escape by turning to alcohol and drugs and things of that nature.

Racism-- and to answer the other part of your question, racism in Northern Minnesota, to be frank and honest with you, is alive and well. In some cases, it's more open and blatant. In others, it's more subtle and subdued, but it's still there nonetheless, I can assure you of that.

It's alive and well in the public school systems. And I think whether or not the teacher that-- or principal that mentioned to the little girl that asked her if she had a chemical dependency problem, whether or not he realized it or not, he was expressing to a certain extent, a form of racial prejudice, if you will, by stereotyping all Indian people together.

That would be like me stereotyping all Swedish people or all people of Norwegian ancestries, which I'm sure people from those ethnic backgrounds wouldn't particularly appreciate.

BOB POTTER: Let's move on to another listener with a question for Mike Bongo. Hello, you're on the air.

SPEAKER: Yes, Mike, good afternoon. I'm calling with regards to the Onigum Point Campground in Marina. We had been boating on Leech for many years. We saw the marina developed running water, electricity in the campsites, the restaurant, the marina itself.

And now it's just gone into complete ruin and wondering what mistakes may have been learned and if such, a development-- an entrepreneurial effort were put back into the Leech Lake area, how could it be more positive than the results? I'll hang up and listen.

MIKE BONGO: Yes, it's interesting that you raised that question because I'm initially from Onigum myself. And I'm very familiar with the Onigum Point Marina and some of the problems that we're faced with.

First of all, opening that marina several years ago was very difficult and a battle in itself. And the local community in Walker was very opposed to it from the standpoint that they were afraid that it was going to take business away from the local town. Some of the problems that-- and so it really got off and got started on the wrong foot, to begin with, from that perspective.

In order to get the marina open at one point in time, as history serves me and I was a much younger individual at that time, I believe the local Indian Community had to organize a boycott. And they boycotted many of the stores and towns in and around Walker and in the Leech Lake area in order to try and force the businesses to accept the fact that that Marina was going to be built and going to be opened.

BOB POTTER: Why did it-- why did it not succeed? Why did it fall apart?

MIKE BONGO: There were many difficulties and problems with it, the lack of steady cash flow. But I think one of the major problems with it is the fact that the economy was very seasonal. I think perhaps the reservation might have learned a valuable lesson in terms of marketing.

I think better marketing could have been done to make the general public as a whole throughout the state and in all other areas where tourists were attracted from to become more aware of it. And it was a very beautiful facility. And I go out there from time to time, and it really saddens me. And I feel very bad to see what has happened to it because as I was saying, it was a very beautiful facility.

But I think really, really, one of the things that, as I alluded to earlier, that as Indian people, we have to remember is that I don't think tribal government has all the answers or can be solving all of the problems. The business at the Onigum Point Marina was managed by the tribal government. I think what is necessary in this day and age is the fact that we need to start developing private Indian entrepreneurs to manage businesses themselves.

And from my perspective, it stands to reason that if you own something, you're going to work much harder at that being successful, as opposed to if you're just managing it for someone. And I think that's the thrust that tribal government is starting to move in today. But it was a very painful and hard lesson that they had to learn. In this particular case, they did learn it the hard way.

BOB POTTER: It's about 15 minutes before the hour, so we'll continue with more questions here for Mike Bongo. Go ahead, please. You're on the air with him now.

SPEAKER: Yes, my question is, could you give me some description of how the tribal government is conducted on the reservation? Is it pretty much like, say, Minneapolis government? Is there a mayor, a council? Give us some insight into how that works.

MIKE BONGO: The tribal government structure on the Leech Lake Indian Reservation and in many of the reservations throughout the state of Minnesota consists of a chairman, secretary, treasurer, and then three district representatives, which then form what is called the Reservation Business Committee or the Tribal Council, if you will. They are elected by the people of the reservation. And they primarily are the governing body.

BOB POTTER: All right. Let's move on to our next caller. Go ahead, please. You're on with Mike Bongo, calling from where?

SPEAKER: Detroit Lakes, Minnesota.

BOB POTTER: Yes, sir.

SPEAKER: Good afternoon, Mike.

MIKE BONGO: Good afternoon.

SPEAKER: Usually, racism and discrimination is a result of ignorance on our part. And how do non-Indian people find out a little more about the cultural differences? I'll hang up and listen. Thank you.

MIKE BONGO: That's a very good question. I think in a lot of areas that it's a two-way street. I think a lot of Indian people could benefit and learn by non-Indians. And I guess what I'm saying is a sharing of learning. I think Indian people need to learn more about non-Indians. And non-Indians certainly need to learn more about Indians.

But one of the most beneficial ways is-- from my perspective, is to go to the reservation and spend time with Indian people, seek them out, ask them questions. Don't be afraid to ask them questions. Try and obtain a better understanding of their perspective.

My mother used to always tell me as a young child growing up, you have to remember that there are always two sides to every story. So don't always be so quick to jump the gun and form an opinion. And she also used to tell me, I'll pass this wisdom along that, in many respects that everyone is entitled to their own opinion and has the right to speak that opinion.

And many times, as Indian people, we hear non-Indians speaking and making derogatory remarks about Indian people, we become very upset. We have to remember that they have a right to speak that opinion, but we, as well, have a right to share or speak our opinion as well.

So from my perspective, the bottom line to your question is I think you need to go to the Reservation. And if you're in the Detroit Lakes area, you're not far from the White Earth Indian Reservation. I would encourage you to go there and speak to some of the people and seek them out. They're people just like you and I. And I'm sure they'd be more than happy to answer some of your questions and to share with you some of the problems that they face on the reservation there.

BOB POTTER: Let's take another question here for Mike Bongo in the remaining moments we have. Go ahead, you're on the air.

SPEAKER: Mr. Bongo?

MIKE BONGO: Right.

SPEAKER : This is in reference to the parallels between what happens on the reservations and the urban reservations that we have here. Can you discuss those issues and point out some problems?

MIKE BONGO: Well, one of the problems that-- and Bob and I talked a little bit about this earlier. And I've said this many times. I think to a certain extent, poverty on the reservation and poverty in the urban areas, while still it's poverty, is somewhat different. From the standpoint on the reservation, you're much more isolated.

And I think that, to a certain extent, draws the family closer together, whereas, in the urban area, people are much more mobile, whether it be through public transportation or whatever. And it creates more of a dysfunctional family than it does to strengthen the family overall.

I think from my perspective, in my feelings that while we grew up very poor-- and I'm not afraid to express that, it wasn't poverty in a sense that the family broke apart and went in different directions. The unity was always maintained. And I don't see that happening many times in the urban area.

The other thing that happens is a lot of people come here-- in the reservation, you're much more aware of your surroundings and so forth, in terms of where you're at both physically and mentally. In the urban area, you come-- many people come to the urban-- many Indian people come to the urban area in search of a better way of life, but find an environment that they're not familiar with.

And many of them have problems with finding their way around, finding housing, finding jobs. And so really, what happens is they come here in search of a better way of life only to find an urban jungle that they're not prepared to deal with. And it only causes more problems for them.

BOB POTTER: It is-- and your program attempts to help them find their way out of that jungle a little bit.

MIKE BONGO: Correct. I think one of the things that we've tried to do over the years is trying to teach our people how to utilize the system and how to work within that structure and system as opposed to remaining ignorant to the various systems and structure and allowing that system to work against them.

BOB POTTER: More questions for Mike Bongo here as we continue our conversation. You're on the air with him, go ahead.

SPEAKER: Yeah, hello, Mike.

MIKE BONGO: Hi.

SPEAKER: When I was in college in the early '70s, in a psychology course, I had, they brought up a study that was done in southwestern United States where they had altered the hours in a factory. And they employed mostly Indians. And they found that they had to work an eight-hour day, but they varied the shift.

The people could come in whenever they wanted as long as they put in an eight-hour day and were productive. And they found to be quite successful. And I'm just wondering, it goes back on the scheduling and whatever. But has anything like that ever been tried or thought about or has anybody even approached that type of an issue or that approach to some of the problems with that kind of a solution that you know of?

MIKE BONGO: Well, first of all, on the reservation-- well, first of all, let me say this. To my knowledge, it's never been tried. I can't say that it hasn't or won't be in the future. But to my knowledge, I've never seen that tried in and around the reservation or in the urban area, for that matter.

The big thing on the Reservation is the fact that it might and might very well in fact be successful if there was some type of economic ventures or opportunities or employment opportunities in which to experiment with that type of a work schedule.

BOB POTTER: Seven minutes now before the hour. Thank you for waiting. You're on the air now with Mike Bongo. Hello.

SPEAKER: Hello, Mike.

MIKE BONGO: Hi.

SPEAKER: I'm a college teacher in the education department of the College of St. Catherine in St. Paul.

MIKE BONGO: Yes.

SPEAKER: And we're very eager to prepare teachers who are ready in a positive way for the racial, cultural, and other diversity they'll meet in the classroom. Can you give some maybe words of advice to us and to our future teachers about teaching American Indian students in elementary and high school and maybe even teaching about them?

MIKE BONGO: Yeah, the thing that I would like to pass on in one of the problems that I see with the educational structure and system, as a whole, in the state of Minnesota is the fact that many times, the system takes the students and especially, it takes the Indian students and tries to mold them into that system.

And they've tried this for the last 60, 70 years, and it's failed miserably. And educators, from my perspective, have a difficult time learning that in order to be successful in teaching Indian children, you need to take that child and mold the system around the needs of that child so that you better meet that child's needs.

And by doing that, you will be much more successful. That is why in a lot of respects, the tribal contract schools and the local alternative schools are much more successful at educating Indian children than the public school setting as a whole.

BOB POTTER: Do those schools teach the kids to get along in the larger society, though? I mean, if they-- the system as a whole, generally speaking, isn't molded around an individual, an individual has to fit in if he wants to. So it doesn't-- in a way, just exactly what the father was saying to his daughter, doesn't it, give them a wrong impression?

MIKE BONGO: Well, I think that that happens over the course of time in subtle ways so that you eventually lead that child to that point in time where they feel comfortable with entering the mainstream of society or education. But it's not something that you just take a young child and throw them into. It'd be like throwing them into a cold tub of water.

BOB POTTER: Yeah.

MIKE BONGO: It's a real culture shock.

BOB POTTER: We've got less than five minutes left and a full bank of telephone lines. We'll see if we can get through a couple three of you here. Thank you for calling. Where are you from, please?

SPEAKER: Yeah, this is Northern Minnesota.

BOB POTTER: Yes, go ahead, please.

SPEAKER: Yes, a couple of comments for Gilly. Today, we have more American Indian students in school in Minnesota than ever before in the history of the state of Minnesota. And I think the general population is realizing that, is the white progress really progress?

Our rivers are hardly liquid anymore. They're almost solid. And that the Indian-- that the general society is realizing that Indian culture is a long-lasting, very viable, very meaningful way of life. And I think that there should be more information on this.

And in closing now, I think Indian relations should be more on your program than there has been in the past. Thank you. I'll hang up.

BOB POTTER: OK, observation on that, Mike?

MIKE BONGO: I think the caller's viewpoint is very correct and very much on target. One of the things that I've always believed in and been taught by people that I have a great deal of respect for is that it's OK as Indian people to be successful in the dominant society, to take from the dominant society what you can use and what will serve you best, and leave those things that will not be of use to you.

And certainly, education plays a key role in all of that. As the caller alluded to, Minnesota is very successful in a large-- to a large extent in turning out college graduates, et cetera. I believe the Minnesota Indian scholarship program had 120 Indian students graduating from college last year.

And those numbers have, in the past years, continuously averaged over 100 per year, whereas, some time ago, if you had 10 a number of years ago, that was considered a large number.

BOB POTTER: Let's take one more quick question here. We have just about a minute left for Mike Bongo. Go ahead, please. You're on the air briefly.

SPEAKER: Hello, I often wonder how American Indians feel about the euphemism, Native American. To me, a euphemism means that the subject being euphemized is so distasteful that they want to clean it up by calling another name. I know the American Indian Movement says Indian. And you have used the word Indian. So, could you comment on that?

MIKE BONGO: Really, that particular question is a question that's been batted around by Congress and the federal government in terms of what do we call Native peoples. Myself, I always preferred the First Americans, but I don't think that went over very well with Congress. And so, it's the terminology used by the federal government classifying Native Americans, American Indians as Native Americans.

BOB POTTER: In casual conversation, is one as acceptable as the other as far as you're concerned?

MIKE BONGO: In a large-- to a large extent, yes. But I think if you were in the community itself that you would hear more people talking about American Indians or things of that-- using that terminology as opposed to Native Americans.

BOB POTTER: Mike, we've run out of time. The half hour has gone very quickly. Thank you very much.

MIKE BONGO: Thank you for having me, Bob. I enjoyed it. And I hope that this discussion was beneficial and educational in some respects to many of the listening public.

BOB POTTER: Well, we'll certainly have to bring you back and talk some more. Mike Bongo is director of the American Indian Opportunities Industrialization Center in Minneapolis and a resident of the Leech Lake Reservation up until the past seven years ago.

The hour began, as you may have heard. I hope you heard with the documentary called Dancing on Beat: Portrait of a Reservation Family. I might remind you that this documentary will be repeated at 9 o'clock tonight on the news and information stations of Minnesota Public Radio and also at 9:15 tomorrow on those stations.

MPR's coverage of issues related to human services is made possible in part through a grant from 3M, of Post-It brand notes. This is Bob Potter speaking. This is KSJN, Minneapolis-St. Paul. Forecast for the Twin Cities calls for a 30% chance of showers this afternoon, 60% tonight and tomorrow.

Whether we know it or not, all of us are busy making our culture every day as artists, thinkers, doers or consumers. Hear from people on the cutting edge of culture, weekday afternoons at 1:00 on Takeout, right here on Minnesota Public Radio.

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BETH FRIEND: Hi, I'm Beth Friend, and this is Takeout. Today being Friday, it's time for Selected Shorts: A Celebration of the Short Story. Enjoy.

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SPEAKER: When exasperated by his hot lids, his crowded heart, he rose from bed and dressed. She awoke enough to turn over. He told her then, if I could undo it all, I would. Where would you begin? she asked.

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ISAIAH SCHAEFFER: This is Selected Shorts, A Celebration of a Short Story, a series of classic and contemporary pieces of short fiction read by some of the finest artists of the American theater. I'm Isaiah Schaeffer, artistic director of Symphony Space in New York City, where these readings were staged and recorded for broadcast. The programs were produced for radio by WNYC, New York Public Radio.

In the next hour, you'll hear stories by--