This story was originally published by The Imprint, a national nonprofit news outlet covering child welfare and youth justice. Sign up for The Imprint’s free newsletters here.
Nancy Marie Spears
The Imprint
He’s a cool 8-year-old on a recent weekday afternoon, sporting a snapback baseball cap and left stud earring while doing ollies and pop-shove-it tricks at a skateboarding park, bopping to Tyler, The Creator blaring in the background.
Later that evening, S.G. hangs out with his mom and their cats — a Maine Coon named Luna and another grey and black-striped shorthaired cat named Socks — and finishes his math homework, his favorite 2nd grade subject.
Another weekly highlight, the Lakota and Seminole child said, is visiting with Coleman Eagle Elk, his mentor with Friends of the Children’s He Sapa program.
He described in four words what he’s learned from Eagle Elk so far: “Powwows, Sundance, language and horses,” S.G. said during his Zoom interview with a reporter. His initials are being used to protect his privacy.
Friends of the Children, a Portland, Oregon-based national nonprofit founded in 1993, connects mentors with “vulnerable” youth including those in the child welfare or juvenile justice systems.
It now serves young people from kindergarten through high school graduation at 44 chapters in 22 states including tribal communities such as the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota and a nearby Rapid City location, where S.G. and Eagle Elk meet. Friends of the Children has forged partnerships with several sovereign tribal nations: the Oglala Lakota Nation, the Confederated Salish-Kootenai Tribes, and the Klamath Tribes.
Unlike Big Brothers, Big Sisters and other mentoring groups nationwide that rely on volunteers, Friends of the Children pays its 400 mentors, who serve over 3,000 children annually. Mentors such as Eagle Elk are vetted with background checks and receive extensive training in child protection and mandatory reporting. Additional policies require children’s interactions to be observable and interruptible.
The nonprofit partnered with the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation to establish the group’s first and only “culturally based” Indigenous chapter. The He Sapa chapter serves over 60 enrolled youth and is in its third year of operation. The Lakota words “he sapa” mean “black ridge,” a place of spiritual significance where many tribal people believe they originated from.
One of the first children to join He Sapa was S.G., who started at age 5. He and Eagle Elk split their time weekly: two hours of mentorship inside the classroom, and two hours of activities outside the classroom.
He has instilled many lessons to S.G., including the importance of the Sundance, a yearly ceremony convening several Plains tribes with drum songs, regalia and dance. On hikes, Eagle Elk explains the Lakota names for different plants and animals they encounter.
“We’re trying to prolong that sense of purity and innocence in a child, because today our kids are exposed to too much — it does something to a spirit,” Eagle Elk, who is Rosebud Sicangu and Osage, said. “We try to harness that and save it for as long as we can.”
S.G. shared other teachings he’s received from Eagle Elk, like when he rode a horse for the first time. Even though his mentor specializes in equine therapy, being around such large animals was scary in the beginning, S.G. said, adding that horses are important to his culture because they are “our relatives.”
In another outing, they went fishing at a public lake outside Rapid City.
“When I was at Kinney Lake with Coleman, I caught a rainbow trout,” S.G. said, widening the distance between his small hands to demonstrate how long the fish was.
With his mentor’s supervision, S.G. descaled the fish, and together, they cooked it. He ate it without any side dishes, because the fish tasted “good” by itself, S.G. added.
Pine Ridge is home to the Oglala Sioux Tribe, so the organization’s Indigenous staff help arrange naming ceremonies, coming-of-age celebrations and culture camps to strengthen identity among Indigenous youth.
S.G.’s naming ceremony was facilitated by He Sapa, and Eagle Elk attended to support the boy’s family. Such language reclamation helps counteract centuries of harm caused by the federal government, which tried to obliterate Native culture during the eras of forced boarding school attendance and mass adoptions to white homes; Indigenous communities were forbidden from speaking or learning their languages.
“Knowing who they are, where they come from and who they come from, is huge,” Eagle Elk said. “When that child grows up, they’re going to understand the connection we have to everything that we walk on, that we breathe, that we see.”
Friends of the Children’s latest data shows that of the thousands of Indigenous and non-Indigenous children paired with a mentor who successfully completed the program, 83 percent graduated high school, 93 percent avoided the juvenile justice system and 98 percent avoided early parenting. Over half had parents who themselves lacked support to graduate, were involved in criminal justice or were teen parents.
And, according to the organization’s data, its long-term mentorship — spanning 12 years from kindergarten to high school graduation — prevented foster care entry for hundreds of children, shortened the lengths of stay by six months and reduced re-entries.
Program Director Tyresha Grey Horse said S.G.’s involvement in the program was “contingent on some sensitive experiences and circumstances” in his family. Staff are mindful to ensure kids aren’t embarrassed about being in the program because of their family’s situations — which often includes direct or indirect involvement in foster care or juvenile justice systems.
“Our youth have already experienced so much in their lives,” said Tasha Mousseau, the organization’s chief officer of advancement and tribal relations. “Friends of the Children is intended to be a safe place, free of trauma and full of support.”
For Eagle Elk, it’s work that comes full circle across generations.
“I want to share everything I know with them, and they do become nephews,” he said of the seven other boys he mentors. “Their parents become sisters, brothers, even their siblings are also nieces and nephews. It creates a bond that will last a lifetime.”