Federal Indian boarding schools still exist, but what's inside may be surprising
On a hot afternoon last summer, Riverside Indian School drew a crowd from all over Oklahoma. Elders and family members drove hours to pile into the residential school's gymnasium. They filled the space with rows of chairs and stuffed the bleachers up to the rafters, but when the meeting was called to order, everyone was silent.
Facing the busloads of tribal citizens were U.S. Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland and Assistant Secretary Bryan Newland. They traveled from Washington to listen for as long as people wanted to speak. The subject at hand? The very place they were sitting.
The gym now shines with new equipment and has a wall dedicated to the "Tribes of Riverside." A symbol of the new Riverside, one with a majority Native staff and an emphasis on cultural practices. But for many of the people here, Riverside Indian School was once a waking nightmare.
One of the first to speak was an 85-year-old man with short salt-and-pepper hair who used a walker to steady himself. Donald Neconie attended this school more than 60 years ago.
"It was 12 years of hell," he told the officials. He recounted for Haaland and Newland how, when he first arrived at the school, the staff treated him like a prisoner.
"The moment I landed there, they took me downstairs, took all my clothes off, and threw a
