(This tribal name is fictitious, but my remarks are based on an actual experience on an Indian reservation in the Southwest. I hope that my suggestions will have application to other settings in which non-Native Americans have come to work, in a helping role, on Indian reservations)

For two years I worked as a teacher and guidance counselor on the Taro Indian reservation in the Southwest. The experience was a mix for me—exciting, mind-expanding, stressful. Looking back, I see it as growth producing. But growth often evolves out of difficulty.

I came to Taro as a divorced, late middle-aged man, still putting the some of the pieces of my life together after a period of homelessness in 1998-1999. I brought with me to Taro many strengths—creativity, good helping skills, especially with children and youth, respect for Native American culture, and understanding of issues related to poverty, racism, and drug substance abuse, as well as a commitment to social justice.

I also came with some emotional issues, including a post-divorce sense of loneliness and wish for a new relationship, along with ongoing treatment and recovery—primarily through medication—from Bipolar Disorder.

I want to share, below, a few suggestions, with a view to easing the adjustment of professionals who come to Taro to help, often from another part of the country (in my own case, Tennessee) but find themselves struggling to adjust to the physical, social and cultural environment.

My suggestions:

I observed that virtually everyone—not just me—came to Taro with both strengths and vulnerabilities, of one sort or another. The vulnerabilities may include family issues, substance abuse, health problems, or economic stress, among others. To think otherwise is unrealistic. My suggestions are aimed at maximizing the contribution of professionals who come to Taro and enhancing their sense of well being, while alleviating the negative potential inherent in the adjustment phase.

*An in-depth program of orientation to the people and culture of Taro would be helpful. Such an orientation should goes beyond teaching newcomers the most glaring do’s and don’t of social interaction; it should include introduction to the richness of Taro culture, including both modern and traditional aspects—touching on aspects of language and religion, in particular. Discussion of both positive and negatives forces at work in the culture would be helpful, including issues related to education, health, and economic opportunity, and the impact of the world outside Taro. The orientation should be conducted primarily by Taro, utilizing a lecture format, and supplemented by small group discussion.

*Opportunities for social integration of Taros and non-Taros—for making friends--cross-culturally—should be expanded. Perhaps some social events could be planned—aimed, specifically, at bring Taros and non-Taros together. Or support groups could be established to facilitate dialogue.

*Both the mental and physical health needs of newcomers should be addressed. Any vulnerability—health-wise—can be exacerbated as one adjusts to a markedly social and physical environment. The issue of where treatment can be accessed should be clarified. I was able to obtain primary care at the Taro Indian Hospital, but psychological services were not available to me—as a non-Taro. It would have been helpful for me to sit down with a mental health professional, at least a few times, to sort out my feelings about life and work on the reservation.

Though I only stayed two years, I want to emphasize that my experience in Taro was mind-expanding, and led me to some new and positive directions. Not only am I happily remarried, but I have also published my poetry and essays in more than fifty periodicals. I have counseled the homeless, taught homebound students and engaged in grassroots political work.

But I think I would have stayed longer, felt less unsettled, and had more to give to the Taro people if some of my suggestions had been implemented—during my two-year stay on the reservation.