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- By Levi Rickert
Opinion. Just days before Christmas, Sunday’s Washington Post report revealing that over 3,100 Native students died while attending Indian boarding schools cast a sobering shadow over this festive season. The article is a heartbreaking confirmation of what Indigenous communities have known and carried in silence for generations.
The Washington Post report, spearheaded by Dana Hedgpeth, a citizen of the Haliwa-Saponi Tribe of North Carolina, and Sari Horwitz, an investigative reporter and author of Justice in Indian Country, highlights the critical role of the media in truth-telling. The investigation revealed death tolls among Native students at Indian boarding schools that are three times higher than those reported by the federal government in July 2024, when the Interior Department released Federal Indian Boarding School Initiative Investigative Report, Volume II. This outstanding piece of journalism by the Washington Post deserves commendation.
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While the newspaper’s number of deaths is sobering and staggering, it only scratches the surface of the pain and loss inflicted by an education system designed to strip Native children of their tribal cultures, languages, and identities.
For those unfamiliar with the history, the federal government and various Christian denominations established these schools in the late 19th and early 20th centuries under the guise of assimilation. The infamous mantra, “Kill the Indian, save the man,” articulated the brutal intent behind these institutions. Children as young as five were forcibly taken from their families, placed in schools far from home, and subjected to harsh discipline, forced labor, and cultural erasure. Many of the Native children faced physical, emotional, and sexual abuse.
The deaths of thousands of Native children at these schools are not merely statistics; they are tragedies that ripple through generations. These children, many of whom were buried in unmarked graves, were brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters. They were storytellers in the making, future leaders of their tribes, and living embodiments of cultural resilience. Their lives were cut short, leaving families with unanswered questions and unhealed wounds. Their potential greatness never came to fruition.
While the report focuses on the number of deaths, it also underscores the systemic neglect and abuse that characterized these schools. Malnutrition, disease, and physical punishment were rampant. The boarding school experience was not simply about education—it was about erasure. The loss of language, cultural practices, and familial bonds has left a legacy of trauma that persists today.
The federal government’s role in these schools is undeniable, but so too is the complicity of religious organizations. The partnership between church and state in running these schools reflects a troubling intersection of colonialism and faith. Many survivors recount not only the physical, emotional, and sexual abuse they endured but also the spiritual dislocation caused by being forced to renounce their traditional beliefs.
In the face of this history, the question arises: How do we reckon with such profound loss? Truth-telling is an essential first step. The federal investigation into Indian boarding schools, led by the Department of the Interior, is a significant move toward uncovering the full scope of these atrocities. The testimonies of survivors must be centered, not just as historical evidence but as voices of resilience and resistance.
However, acknowledgement alone is not enough. The United States must commit to meaningful reparations, both material and symbolic. Restitution must include funding for language revitalization programs, cultural preservation, and mental health services for Native communities. Additionally, the graves of these children must be located, identified, and honored in collaboration with their tribes. This process of repatriation is a sacred act that restores dignity to those who were lost.
For Native communities, healing also involves reclaiming the narratives stolen by these schools. Many tribes are doing the difficult work of revitalizing languages and traditions once suppressed. This resurgence is a testament to the resilience of Indigenous peoples and a powerful counter-narrative to the intended erasure imposed by the boarding school system.
As a society, we have a moral obligation to listen to these stories and to support efforts to address the intergenerational trauma caused by boarding schools. This history is not just a Native issue; it is an American issue. It is a reminder of the cost of systemic racism and the work still needed to build a more just and equitable future.
The boarding school era represents a dark chapter in American history, but it is also a story of survival. Despite the immense suffering, Native peoples have endured and continue to thrive, carrying forward the wisdom and traditions that these schools sought to destroy.
In honoring the memories of those who were lost, we must also celebrate the resilience of those who remain, ensuring that the lessons of this painful history guide us toward a future rooted in justice and respect.
Thayék gde nwéndëmen - We are all related.
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