The Miseducation of Frank Waln
Frank Waln
On and off the reservation  American schools tend to whitewash the stories of Native Americans.  Frank Waln   a Lakota hip-hop artist from  He  Dog  South Dakota  is endeavoring to change that â with music that champions  his  heritage while demolishing Native American stereotypes.
On and off the reservation  American schools tend to whitewash the stories of Native Americans.  Frank Waln   a Lakota hip-hop artist from  He  Dog  South Dakota  is endeavoring to change that â with music that champions  his  heritage while demolishing Native American stereotypes.
 Frank Waln . (Photo: Tomas Karmelo Amaya)
A young man walks onto an empty stage. The spotlight glares off of his white moccasins and crisp long-sleeved button-down  which billows  untucked  over dark slacks. He cuts a slight figure against the venueâs deep  black backdrop  and his clean-shaven face  framed by two long black braids  makes him look younger than his 27 years. He speaks softly into the microphone  first in his native Lakota  then in English: âHello  relatives. My Lakota name is Walks With Young People. I also go by  Frank Waln . And I welcome you with an open heart and an open handshake.â
The enemy is ignorance  which reveals itself plainly in Walnâs new song âWhat Makes the Red Man Red â his send-up of the racist tune âWhat Made the Red Man Redâ from Disneyâs 1953 film Peter Pan. Walnâs song samples the tuneâs chorus and the filmâs offhand references to Native Americans as âaboriginesâ and âIndians.â That is  before  Waln  drowns them out with a sharp verse.
The crowd is on its feet now  some singing along  others bobbing in agreement with the beat. Walnâs frequent tours of reservations and his blunt  firebrand style have made him well-known among his people (heâs a two-time Native American Music Award winner). Recently   Waln  has made a splash in the mainstream media too: Heâs been featured on NPR and MTVâs Rebel Music: Native Americaand in Vibe and USA Today; he has performed at the South by Southwest festival in Austin  and at concerts in France and Germany. The day before his Albuquerque concert  he spoke at a Harvard University symposium on Native politics.
 Waln  is an ascendant member of a Native American hip-hop vanguard that is taking  its  message of social justice off of the reservation. What separates  Waln  and other socially engaged artists  like War Party  Without Rezervation  and Supaman  from older generations of Native artists  says Alan Lechusza Aquallo  a professor of American Indian studies at Palomar College  is their authenticity.  Waln  doesnât play to Native stereotypes  like a preaching elder or a fierce sports mascot â  his  performing persona is young  charismatic  believably real. âThere are a number of Native hip-hop artists who play off the kitsch of what it is to be Indian because thatâs whatâs going to give them notoriety â Aquallo says. â [Waln]  has  his  long braids  but  he âs wearing street clothes.  He âs not playing Indian.â
 Walnâs  overall message is plain: Americans â Native and non-Native alike â need to educate themselves about the real history and current politics of Americaâs indigenous people. And through his words and music  on the reservation and off   Waln  plans on delivering the wake-up call.
 Frank Walnâs  own education began on the Rosebud Sioux Indian Reservation  on the Great Plains of central South Dakota.  He  grew up in He Dog  a small Sicangu Lakota community  where  his  single mom and her sisters ran the family ranch.  His  father was abusive and mostly absent â the first of many scars  he  would learn to bear.
 Frank Waln . (Photo: Tomas Karmelo Amaya)
He Dog is located in Todd County  where the poverty rate approaches 50 percent  a problem with deep and tangled roots. Studies of modern Native Americans have shown that âhistorical trauma â the name that social workers give to the perception of historical loss passed down through generations  has been linked to symptoms of emotional distress like anger  anxiety  substance abuse  and even depression.  Waln  remembers grappling with these manifestations even as a child. âIt was very confusing to me â he says. âI was wondering why I was struggling with depression all the time  why I had suicidal thoughts  why the suicide rate was so high on our reservation. I was very insecure.â
 Waln  says his confusion stemmed from the fact that  beyond the traditions passed down through his family  he didnât know much about the political history of his people. And indeed  with scant resources  schools on American reservations have fallen behind. A 2011 National Indian Education Study found huge deficits in reading and math scores for schools heavily attended by Native American students. Schools controlled by the Bureau of Indian Education  which are run by tribes  fared even worse: Fourth gradersâ reading scores averaged 182 on a 500-point scale  compared to 204 in public schools. Only 43 percent of eighth-graders said that their teachers included any Native American culture or history in their curricula.
 Frank Waln . (Photo: Tomas Karmelo Amaya)
âIn my opinion  the way history is taught in this country is colonial propaganda â  Waln  says. âI was aware of the big atrocities  like the Wounded Knee Massacre and the government giving us blankets with smallpox. But I didnât know the details and how recent some of these discriminatory laws were.â
If  Waln  didnât see  himself  in textbooks growing up   he  did in music.  He  learned piano at age seven;  he  joined a Lakota drum group in middle school. When  Waln  was a teenager   his  older cousins started gathering in their basements to make music  influenced by rappers like Nas  Talib Kweli  Dead Prez  and Eminem.  Waln  started sampling beats and recording on  his  laptop. To  his  mother and most of the adults in  his  cowboy-and-rodeo community   Walnâs  sudden infatuation with hip-hop could be attributed to hip-hopâs popularity with kids his age. But to  Waln   his playlist wasnât just about youth culture. âA lot of Native Americans are living in poverty â he says. âHip-hop was born in poor communities of color.â
 Frank Waln . (Photo: Tomas Karmelo Amaya)
On and off the reservation  American schools tend to whitewash the stories of Native Americans.   [TGT] a Lakota hip-hop artist from  He  Dog  South Dakota  is endeavoring to change that â with music that champions  his  heritage while demolishing Native American stereotypes.
On and off the reservation  American schools tend to whitewash the stories of Native Americans.   [TGT] a Lakota hip-hop artist from  He  Dog  South Dakota  is endeavoring to change that â with music that champions  his  heritage while demolishing Native American stereotypes.
  [TGT]  . (Photo: Tomas Karmelo Amaya)
A young man walks onto an empty stage. The spotlight glares off of his white moccasins and crisp long-sleeved button-down  which billows  untucked  over dark slacks. He cuts a slight figure against the venueâs deep  black backdrop  and his clean-shaven face  framed by two long black braids  makes him look younger than his 27 years. He speaks softly into the microphone  first in his native Lakota  then in English: âHello  relatives. My Lakota name is Walks With Young People. I also go by   [TGT]  . And I welcome you with an open heart and an open handshake.â
The enemy is ignorance  which reveals itself plainly in Walnâs new song âWhat Makes the Red Man Red â his send-up of the racist tune âWhat Made the Red Man Redâ from Disneyâs 1953 film Peter Pan. Walnâs song samples the tuneâs chorus and the filmâs offhand references to Native Americans as âaboriginesâ and âIndians.â That is  before  Waln  drowns them out with a sharp verse.
The crowd is on its feet now  some singing along  others bobbing in agreement with the beat. Walnâs frequent tours of reservations and his blunt  firebrand style have made him well-known among his people (heâs a two-time Native American Music Award winner). Recently   Waln  has made a splash in the mainstream media too: Heâs been featured on NPR and MTVâs Rebel Music: Native Americaand in Vibe and USA Today; he has performed at the South by Southwest festival in Austin  and at concerts in France and Germany. The day before his Albuquerque concert  he spoke at a Harvard University symposium on Native politics.
 Waln  is an ascendant member of a Native American hip-hop vanguard that is taking  its  message of social justice off of the reservation. What separates  Waln  and other socially engaged artists  like War Party  Without Rezervation  and Supaman  from older generations of Native artists  says Alan Lechusza Aquallo  a professor of American Indian studies at Palomar College  is their authenticity.  Waln  doesnât play to Native stereotypes  like a preaching elder or a fierce sports mascot â  his  performing persona is young  charismatic  believably real. âThere are a number of Native hip-hop artists who play off the kitsch of what it is to be Indian because thatâs whatâs going to give them notoriety â Aquallo says. â [Waln]  has  his  long braids  but  he âs wearing street clothes.  He âs not playing Indian.â
 Walnâs  overall message is plain: Americans â Native and non-Native alike â need to educate themselves about the real history and current politics of Americaâs indigenous people. And through his words and music  on the reservation and off   Waln  plans on delivering the wake-up call.
 Frank Walnâs  own education began on the Rosebud Sioux Indian Reservation  on the Great Plains of central South Dakota.  He  grew up in He Dog  a small Sicangu Lakota community  where  his  single mom and her sisters ran the family ranch.  His  father was abusive and mostly absent â the first of many scars  he  would learn to bear.
 Frank Waln . (Photo: Tomas Karmelo Amaya)
He Dog is located in Todd County  where the poverty rate approaches 50 percent  a problem with deep and tangled roots. Studies of modern Native Americans have shown that âhistorical trauma â the name that social workers give to the perception of historical loss passed down through generations  has been linked to symptoms of emotional distress like anger  anxiety  substance abuse  and even depression.  Waln  remembers grappling with these manifestations even as a child. âIt was very confusing to me â he says. âI was wondering why I was struggling with depression all the time  why I had suicidal thoughts  why the suicide rate was so high on our reservation. I was very insecure.â
 Waln  says his confusion stemmed from the fact that  beyond the traditions passed down through his family  he didnât know much about the political history of his people. And indeed  with scant resources  schools on American reservations have fallen behind. A 2011 National Indian Education Study found huge deficits in reading and math scores for schools heavily attended by Native American students. Schools controlled by the Bureau of Indian Education  which are run by tribes  fared even worse: Fourth gradersâ reading scores averaged 182 on a 500-point scale  compared to 204 in public schools. Only 43 percent of eighth-graders said that their teachers included any Native American culture or history in their curricula.
 Frank Waln . (Photo: Tomas Karmelo Amaya)
âIn my opinion  the way history is taught in this country is colonial propaganda â  Waln  says. âI was aware of the big atrocities  like the Wounded Knee Massacre and the government giving us blankets with smallpox. But I didnât know the details and how recent some of these discriminatory laws were.â
If  Waln  didnât see  himself  in textbooks growing up   he  did in music.  He  learned piano at age seven;  he  joined a Lakota drum group in middle school. When  Waln  was a teenager   his  older cousins started gathering in their basements to make music  influenced by rappers like Nas  Talib Kweli  Dead Prez  and Eminem.  Waln  started sampling beats and recording on  his  laptop. To  his  mother and most of the adults in  his  cowboy-and-rodeo community   Walnâs  sudden infatuation with hip-hop could be attributed to hip-hopâs popularity with kids his age. But to  Waln   his playlist wasnât just about youth culture. âA lot of Native Americans are living in poverty â he says. âHip-hop was born in poor communities of color.â
 Frank Waln . (Photo: Tomas Karmelo Amaya)