For Native Students, Education’s Promise Has Long Been Broken
It’s prom night at Browning High School on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation in Montana, and the first cars are just starting to pull up in front of an angular entrance that was built to resemble a teepee. The students, clad in sequins and lace, black tuxes and white suits, emerge from their cars into the glare of spotlights and flashing cameras. Smiling and waving, they walk the red carpet past parents and siblings who crowd behind the velvet ropes, calling out their names, while teachers valet-park their cars. Librarian-turned-paparazzo Amy Andreas snaps their pictures, and the students head into the school, passing Cyrus, the drug-sniffing golden retriever, and several cops wearing bulletproof vests and holstered guns. When they reach the cafeteria, the students sign a "safe and sober" pledge. Prom is one of a dozen nights a year when the reservation is dry — graduation is another — and signs warn that "drinking and driving leads to empty lodges." After another photo shoot, the couples cross the cafeteria stage, the crowd cheering as they’re introduced.