Photo credit: hechingerreport.org
SUPAI, Ariz. — In the close-knit tribal village of Supai, 22-year-old Kambria Siyuja reflects on her education with a blend of pride and sadness. Raised in a family of educators and starting kindergarten with an academic edge, Siyuja was once seen as the brightest student at Havasupai Elementary School. She graduated as valedictorian but quickly realized that her education fell short when she moved to a private boarding school in Sedona, Arizona, for high school, due to the lack of options for secondary education in her remote community.
“I didn’t know math or basic formulas,” Siyuja recalled. “Typing and tech? Nonexistent.” The emotional weight of her experiences during that transition was palpable as she recounted them with her mother and grandmother, both of whom have dedicated their lives to teaching.
Despite her impressive achievements, Siyuja was faced with significant gaps in her education. At her new school, she discovered she was the only freshman who had never taken pre-algebra. Eight years after her graduation, Havasupai Elementary still lacked the resources to teach fundamental courses like pre-algebra, with only 3 percent of its students demonstrating proficiency in English language arts or math. The school’s isolation on a government-designated reservation, coupled with chronic staffing shortages, contributed to a system that has long struggled to provide quality education.
“I know they struggle a lot because of how few resources we have down here,” Siyuja lamented. “But what are they teaching here?”
In response to these ongoing educational inadequacies, six families from Supai took legal action against the federal government in 2017. They alleged that the Bureau of Indian Education (BIE), responsible for managing Havasupai Elementary, had failed to ensure their children’s right to a quality education. The tribe’s brief noted that the school had devolved into an appalling example within a flawed educational system and demanded judicial intervention for the sake of students’ futures.
The ensuing legal battles resulted in significant settlements, igniting hope for educational reform in Supai and potentially across similar BIE schools nationwide. These settlements have catalyzed some changes, including the hiring of new staff and the introduction of curricula for English, science, and math, as well as a commitment from the new principal to remain long term.
“We now have some teachers and some repairs to the building that are being done,” said Dinolene Kaska, a mother and new school board member, emphasizing the long road to these modest improvements.
The broader context of the BIE’s failures stretches back for years, exacerbated by a history of underfunding and bureaucratic challenges. Federal initiatives aimed at reforming the BIE have had mixed results, as the bureau’s academic performance historically lagged behind other educational institutions. Recent budget increases had started to yield improvements in graduation rates and staffing vacancies, yet those gains now appear jeopardized under the threat of severe federal budget cuts and the movement toward school choice initiatives.
Critics have argued that such proposals could dismantle the already fragile educational framework for Native American communities, where alternatives like private schooling are generally inaccessible. “Tribes in rural areas don’t have a lot of school choice,” said Quinton Roman Nose of the Tribal Education Departments National Assembly, highlighting the inadequacy of school choice as a viable solution for many Native students.
The Trump administration’s approach, which included significant layoffs across federal agencies, has fueled concern about the future of BIE-funded education amid already daunting challenges. Longtime BIE director Tony Dearman defended the bureau’s capacity to fulfill its educational commitments to tribes, asserting that recent reforms positioned the BIE to meet its obligations better than before.
Historically, reforms have been stymied by inadequate funding and systemic mismanagement within the BIE. Since its inception, the bureau has faced criticisms, including from the Government Accountability Office, regarding its approaches to education for Native American students, with failures documented across various metrics of academic performance. Recent internal reports have revealed ongoing issues, particularly with special education and overall institutional oversight.
Siyuja’s experience underscores a bigger issue affecting tribal education: the profound impacts of systemic inequalities. Many tribal schools, including her alma mater, struggle with multi-grade classrooms, frequent teacher turnover, and a curriculum devoid of local culture and history. This undermines students’ learning experiences while also disconnecting them from their heritage.
After graduating from her tribal school, Siyuja went on to study education in college, bringing her perspective full circle as she plans to return to Supai to teach. “I want the younger kids to have a much better education than we got,” she affirmed, emphasizing her commitment to the community that shaped her own educational journey.
The recent changes at Havasupai Elementary, including new hires and an emergent focus on cultural education, suggest a glimmer of hope that the longstanding issues can be addressed. With continued advocacy, legal support, and a community invested in educational reform, there lies potential for a brighter future for students in Supai.
While the challenges remain formidable, the legal victories and newfound initiatives signal a critical turning point in the efforts to provide adequate education for Native American students. As advocates continue to push for accountability and improvements, the voices of families like Siyuja’s serve to remind us that reform is not just necessary, but imperative for the well-being of future generations.
Source
hechingerreport.org