I'm Busted - Natives Issue

This edition of "I'm Busted" was originally supposed to go in the Natives Issue. Then we decided to drop all the columns in back from that issue and were like, "OK, we'll just put it on the web with that issue." Then sombody put it somewhere and started doing something else and this seasonal montage happened where it got all covered in snow, then the snow melted and a little flower started growing next to it, then it was all sunny and some kid was banging a hoop with a stick in the distance and we were like "Oh yeah, that thing." Anyway, here it is, in all its months-delayed glory:

Steve and some of his fellow Indians

There are over 500 Indian nations represented on American soil, and at least 465 of them have a son or daughter in the federal prison system.

The freedom to practice religion is a basic tenet of our constitution, and that right carries over to those incarcerated by the federal Bureau of Prisons. BOP Program Statement 5360.09 declares "Religious accommodations will be made for all religions authorized to meet in Bureau of Prisons facilities." The BOP recognizes Native Americanism as an authorized religion, but according to Steve Maisenbacher, who hails from the Florida Big Cyprus Seminole reservation and is serving a 165-year sentence for multiple bank robberies, the fight for the should-be granted right to practice what he believes hasn't been easy.

Steve's been incarcerated for 23 years in such notorious institutions as ADX Florence, USP Leavenworth, USP Lewisburg, and USP Lompoc—and has blazed a trail of religious freedom in every lock-up he's been in. He's affiliated with such Indian rights organizations as the American Indians Movement and the Native American Rights Fund, plus he's done time with Native American icon Leonard Peltier, who is considered a political prisoner by Amnesty International.

"I know Leonard," Steve says. "I know a lot of other prestigious brothers—Steve Jackson, Jimmy Youngbear, Michael Taylor, Bobby and Ricky Sams. After 23 years in the system I know some of these brothers pretty well and we have all fought for Native American rights."

In 2000, Congress passed the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act, which granted Indian inmates the right to wear bandanas and long hair in prisons nationwide. President Clinton said upon enacting the law that as a nation we are obliged to allow the indigenous people of our country to practice what they believe. But what goes down in Congress isn't always put into practice at the local level.

"I am the spokesman for the group here at FCI Gilmer," Steve says. "When I got here we had nothing. We had to fight all the way to DC to get a sweat lodge. We didn't even have a piece of ground. We've come from nothing to sweating once a week."

The sweat lodge is paramount to the Native Americans' belief system. "We believe in the hoop and the circle of life and we hold everything in the hoop to be sacred. Everything revolves around the hoop. Everything in existence revolves around the circle—the sun, the moon, life cycles, the seasons.

"The sweat lodge is a sacred ceremony that represents to us a rebirth and cleansing. It involves prayer, traditional songs, and the four sacred directions- east, south, west, and north."

Every Saturday morning the Native American community on the compound—which numbers around 10 to 15—gathers at the sweat lodge during recreation to go through their ritual and practice their religious beliefs.

At 7:30 AM the sweat leader and firekeeper meet at the chapel and go outside with blankets, shovels, rakes, and a book of matches. "They won't let us have flint," Steve smiles. They build the fire with wood that is supplied by the institution. Rocks are arranged around the wood in the form a pyramid, kindling is added, and a six- to eight-foot bonfire develops to heat up the 50 or 60 rocks. When the rocks are heated, they are brought in on a shovel and placed in the doorway of the lodge, then put in a pit in the middle of the room. "This is called Inipi Sweat," Steve explains, "We sit around the rocks and sweat.

"The sweat lodge represents the belly of a mother. A heat of between 125 and 180 degrees is generated from the rocks inside the pit. We beat a hand drum that represents the heartbeat of the people, and we pour water on the rocks to bring forth steam, which is the breath of the grandfather."

The sweat lodge is no Sunday picnic though. "I've seen brothers get seriously hurt in there," Steve says. "You have to be cautious. We spend two to three hours in the sweat lodge under conditions that would horrify normal people."

The ceremony consists of four rounds. The first round is "rebirth" and is conducted facing east. Round two is the "nurturing phase" and done to the south. The third round, facing west, represents confusion—"The place where we find clarity," Steve says. And the fourth round, to the north, is the "Season of the Cold." This, according to Steve, "is where we find courage, integrity, and strength."

In federal prison, Native Americans like Steve have had to battle with administrators and the courts for years just to be able to perform their basic rites. But it's just a continuation of an even bigger struggle the Indians have been waging ever since the white man landed on these shores. It's tough to be an Indian in the United States, but, like Steve says, "I am what I am. A prisoner. A bank robber. And a Native American."

Here's one of the traditional songs used in the ceremony:

Now the BUFFALO ARE gone

Across the Plains a warrior does ride
He's searching For truth, Justice, and life
Then the soldiers came and took the land
The settlers were next claiming all that he had

Now the BUFFALO ARE gone

Next they took a little girl, took her from her world
Tried to beat her white with their Jesus and their might
Punished this child for the language that she had
Allowed her only to speak your tongue, that's so sad

Way ya - way ya – way ya – Hi ya,
Way ya - way ya – way ya – Hi ya,
Now the BUFFALO ARE gone

In a sacred place called Wounded Knee
My brothers Dennis Banks and Russel Means
A ten-week stand to end the corruption and the greed
200 AIM members, 2000 Native peoples strong All singing the same sad song,

Way ya – Hi ya – Way ya- Hey ya
Way ya – Hi ya – Way ya- Hey yo
Now the BUFFALO ARE gone . . .
Way ya – Hi ya – Way ya- Hey ya
Way ya – Hi ya – Way ya- Hey yo
Now the BUFFALO ARE gone
Now the BUFFALO ARE gone
Now the BUFFALO ARE gone
We will wait FOR their Return