For centuries, the Waaswaaganing Anishinaabeg (Lac du Flambeau) Tribe in Wisconsin, lived, breathed, taught and nurtured a Culture of Health.

The land’s bounty—blueberries, blackberries, fish, wild rice and venison—kept them well fed, and sustainability was implicit. Education was something that started at birth and really never ended, as generations of knowledge accumulated by the elders swept across the tribe. Housing, employment and active lifestyles—all elements of modern living—were threaded into the fabric of tribal culture.

This almost idyllic existence was formed by nature, enriched by the tribe’s history and held together through the guidance of the Great Spirit, or the omnipresent creator whom the tribe believes exists in all things. From one generation to the next, and to the next, this was life.

But the historical trauma that would upend so many native cultures in North America would descend upon the Waaswaaganing Anishinaabeg, too. Over the years, the federal government’s heavy-handed—and in many instances, brutal—efforts to assimilate the tribe would inflict wounds that still fester today. The rich culture would be stripped away and the land would be despoiled. The tribe’s collective health would suffer greatly.

By the turn of this century substance abuse, domestic violence, poverty and low graduation rates cast a pall over everyday life. A University of Nebraska study in 2005 found that 3 in every 4 people on the nearly 2,000-person reservation lived in poverty.

• The Peter Christensen Health Center arrived in late 2009, and a dental clinic—now with 27 chairs—followed in 2013. Before, services were limited and tribal members had to seek care off-reservation in non-native communities. The distance was daunting, and treatment in non-native centers was sometimes insensitive to the Waaswaaganing Anishinaabeg culture. Not surprisingly, this discouraged people from receiving regular care. The new clinics are staffed with people who understand the unique needs and sensitivities of the tribe, and students from the public school and Head Start program are regularly bused in for routine dental care.
• The Wellness Center/Lac du Flambeau Center for Fitness is the first exercise facility for the general public in the area. The center operates on a sliding scale based on income, and though it of course has exercise equipment, it’s more than a gym. It offers classes, nutrition programs, elder services and an infant-parenting program as well as a Community Health Department.

“She told us awful things happened. They weren’t allowed to speak their language, about their culture, their families or anything native, or they’d be punished,” says Valliere, Language & Cultural Teacher for the Tribal Ojibwe Language Program. “It was the government’s way of assimilating Native Americans. They thought they were doing us a favor.”

Instead, generations grew up stripped of their cultural identity, feeling isolated, fearful and unmoored. Pulled from their homes, they had no parenting models to follow for their own children—the only framework involved harsh punishments doled out by their non-native teachers.

Though the Waaswaaganing Anishinaabeg understand that language alone will not be the salve for their health challenges, returning it to its proper place as well as embracing other native teachings are seen as essential ingredients of a healthy foundation. For instance, the tribe’s centuries-old native teachings—humility, honesty, love, respect, bravery, wisdom and truth—demand a respect for nature and encourage a connection to the Great Spirit.

“The seven teachings help you function in the world, as a native and a non-native citizen,” says Brian Jackson, an adviser to the Cultural Connections program. “It’s about being a person. It’s about building a citizen.”

A Tradition Steeped in Health

This “building” takes place in classrooms, but also amid the forests and lakes of the reservation.

“Honor your older brothers,” Valliere tells a group of eighth-graders who are about to take canoes out into an area lake to harvest rice. The plants and animals were the Great Spirit’s first creations, he tells the students. Humans came later.

Before the harvesting begins, Valliere recites a traditional prayer in his native tongue, then sprinkles some tobacco into the water. It’s an offering—a thank you—to the Great Spirit. The teens follow his example, taking a pinch and letting the tobacco grounds flutter into the lake and across the forest floor.

Let loose on the water, the students spend the next several hours using ricing sticks to detach the grains from the plants, collecting the bounty into their canoes. From the shore, a teacher can hear the students’ laughter echoing across the water.

“Listen to that,” she says. “This is what they need.”

Handeland says traditional tasks such as the rice harvest serve as a sort of healing force, bringing social cohesion. After all, this is something that had been done by ancestors hundreds of years ago.

“Working as a team strengthens the families,” she says. “When you think about it, that’s the epitome of healthy.”

“They’re learning,” Schuman says with zaagidwin, or love, as she watches them.

Grandma Marge Greene says working with the younger generation makes her hopeful about the next.

The students “love to see the grandmas, they love to see community members come into the school. It makes them feel good inside because they know we care.”

Both ENVISION and Standing In a Good Way, an anti-bullying program, were developed with student involvement. School officials have also found that ENVISION students are better behaved, have better attendance and are more engaged in classwork.

These and myriad other programs developed over the past several years—some working with parents, others directly in the schools—have resulted in stunning turnabouts. Lakeland Union High School, which serves Lac du Flambeau high school students, has seen an increase in American Indian graduation rates, from 43 percent in 2010 to 81 percent in 2014.

It’s these beacons of progress—some via statistics, others in the form of freshly poured sidewalks, still others seen in a child’s hopeful eyes—that are turning heads in Lac du Flambeau and beyond. Though it will take time and relentless dedication to close history’s wounds, optimism flourishes on this reservation.

Melinda Young, the tribe’s historic preservation officer, says that by listening and gaining a full understanding of these complex issues, the floodgates opened.

“With any trauma, you have to be able to talk about it to heal.”