Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About Appeal tribune. (Silverton, Or.) 1999-current | View Entire Issue (Sept. 15, 2021)
SILVERTONAPPEAL.COM Meet our Mid-Valley: Chemawa junior Kayla Monte sets sights on college Natalie Pate Salem Statesman Journal USA TODAY NETWORK This is part of a weekly series intro- ducing readers to individuals who are passionate about our Mid-Valley com- munity. Kayla Monte found out about the national Lakhani Scholars program only two days before the deadline to apply. The nonprofit offers $10,000 worth of college coaching and test prep to "high-achieving, low-income stu- dents." Monte knew winning could mean the difference between finding and attending her dream college or not. Monte — a junior this coming year at Chemawa Indian School in Salem — has dreams of becoming an architect. To get there, she has her sights set on Harvard, Yale or the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. With the help of an encouraging teacher, Monte completed the applica- tion. She was selected as one of three winners across the country and be- came the first Native American recipi- ent in the program's history. "When I go to school, I'm going to ask my advisor to give me the hardest classes," the 17-year-old told the Statesman Journal. Her Lakhani coach and she have talked about ways to make her college application stand out; Monte wants to show she took honors classes in every subject. Monte has attended Chemawa for the past two years. She opted to enroll since both her older brothers attended before her, and she said it felt like a great opportunity "to learn about my culture and other tribes and their tra- ditions." Though online learning during the pandemic was stressful for many, Monte said it was relaxing for her to set her own schedule. Still, she's excited to be back on campus this fall. Monte finds buildings and houses — and learning how they're structured — fascinating. She also has aspira- tions to provide stable, affordable housing to reservation communities across the United States. Describing herself as a "one-person band," Monte's creativity stretches be- yond her dreams of designing com- mercial or residential properties or working as an interior designer. "My family is obsessed with music," she said. Monte herself plays the guitar, bass and drums. In band, she also learned how to play instruments like the tim- pani and xylophone. "My mom used to do piano and my father got me on the drums when I was, like, eight or nine," she said. "Ever since then, I've just loved music." Monte is from Arizona, a member of the Tohono O'odham Nation. She also has connections with the Navajo and Hopi tribes. When word got out she was the first Native Lakhani Scholar, she said "it went viral on Facebook (in) the Native community." She was surprised by the reaction, but said, "It feels like an honor to rep- resent our culture and how we are just as capable as everybody else in this world." If you have an idea for someone we should profile for this series, please email Statesman Journal senior news editor Alia Beard Rau at arau@gan- nett.com. Contact reporter Natalie Pate at npate@statesmanjournal.com, 503- 399-6745, Twitter @NataliePateGwin, or Facebook at www.Facebook.com/ nataliepatejournalist. Kayla Monte poses for a portrait at Trailside Point Park in Phoenix on Aug. 1, 2021. She attends Chemawa Indian School in Salem. JOSEPH COOKE/THE REPUBLIC | WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 2021 | 3B We opened our home to 110 kids in crisis Alan Gustafson Special to Salem Statesman Journal USA TODAY NETWORK Six years ago, the first crisis respite kid showed up about 11 p.m. at the door of our West Salem home. We were anxious and apprehensive. Dressed in hospital scrubs, a 16-year- old girl, delivered by Salem’s Psychiatric Crisis Center, greeted me and my wife, Nancy, with a bracing question: “You aren’t going to hurt me are you?” Sara walked cautiously into our living room and nestled on a sofa, clutching a blanket. We tried to ease her fear, de- scribing our home as a safe, short-term refuge — part of a new program designed to give kids a break from whatever is get- ting them down. Sara listened politely, then shared a little about herself. She hinted at abuse and turmoil causing her to consider sui- cide. It was almost midnight when we showed her to her room and said good- night. Sara, a fictitious name used to protect privacy, stayed for a week, quickly set- tling into a routine revolved around eat- ing, naps and TV. She reluctantly agreed to take part in a Zumba class and Salem Library outing as well. Occasionally, she asked to be taken for a drive in the country. She would crack a window to let in the warm spring air, then close her eyes and fall asleep. In snippets of conversation, she told us she had been sexually abused and described lingering effects of emotional anguish and confusion, saying she often felt “dead inside.” We offered encouragement, using the limited tools we had to counteract her despair. We hoped a period of sheltered calm would ease her pain, at least tem- porarily. Within days, we saw that stabilizing effect take hold. Sara became less agitat- ed. Her mood and demeanor brightened at times. On the surface at least, she made progress. We said our goodbyes when a CA, short for crisis associate, picked her up and took her back to the Psychiatric Cri- sis Center. There, she met with a case- worker and family members before going back to her home. After Sara left, Nancy and I breathed a sigh of relief. We had worried about what we were getting ourselves into. Now, with the first placement behind us, we thought, “Ok, maybe this crisis respite job might be doable.” Since that first placement in 2015, we have taken in 109 more kids through this innovative program administered by Marion County Mental Health. But our work as paid crisis care providers -- $2,000 a month, plus $100 per night for each stay – is winding down. As grandparents in our mid-60s, we are planning for retirement, travel and new experiences. We look forward to passing the respite baton to replacement providers this summer. Raising awareness about the little- known program partly explains why I wrote this essay, soliciting Nancy’s input and advice along the way. It’s aimed at providing a candid look at the ups and downs we have experienced on our jour- ney. We believe in the program because we often see tangible results. Kids who arrive in crisis have been rocked by sexual abuse, family chaos, bullying, suicidal thoughts and other tor- ments. They tend to be scared, shaken, fragile, confused and hopeless. But in many cases, they stabilize rapidly. Some start to see glimmers of hope. Some get hooked up to counseling, ther- apy and other support systems, bolster- ing their prospects. Taking stock As we near our stopping point, it seems fitting to take stock of the experi- ence and answer some salient questions. Did we provide a useful service? Was it a good experience for us? Would we rec- ommend it to others? Our review highlights a mixed bag. On the plus side, playing a part in something larger than ourselves is re- warding. And while kids placed with us tend to have similar diagnoses and is- sues, it’s uplifting to see the distinct na- ture of each personality emerge. We benefit from the “honeymoon ef- fect,” as kids tend to be well-behaved during short stays. We appreciate the breaks between those stays so we can recharge, spend time with our three adult children and three grandchildren, and handle other work duties. We receive financial compensation that exceeds the usual rates for foster care and therapeutic foster care, both of which we’ve done in the past. Serving as foster parents and respite providers also sets a good example for our children and grandchildren. Finally, we have leaned on each other during placements, drawing us closer. Our shared experience will always be etched into our marriage, memories and legacy. However: We’ve learned a lot about the devas- tating toll trauma takes on kids. We’ve seen firsthand how it shatters lives. Being available 24/7 means living with uncertainty, apprehension and schedule changes. We never know when Crisis care providers Alan and Nancy Gustafson pose for a portrait at their home on Aug. 14,in West Salem. ABIGAIL DOLLINS/STATESMAN JOURNAL How to help Oregon’s toll-free child abuse hotline is 1-855-503-7233. Callers can report abuse of any child 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Child protection workers respond to reports of child abuse and neglect. If a child cannot be safe at home, a foster care placement is made. The state Department of Human Services has a certification process that all applicants must go through to be approved as foster parents. For more information about foster parenting or adoption, call 1-800-331-0503. a placement call might occur. We’ve taken kids at Thanksgiving, Christmas and the day my dad died. We sometimes become frustrated with lack of information about an incoming child’s background, behavioral issues and mental health. We deal with emotional strain and re- curring worry about keeping kids safe. Sometimes, we wonder about personal li- ability. Thankfully, no disasters have oc- curred on our watch. When kids leave, we feel a bittersweet mix of relief, satisfaction and loss. We of- ten wonder how they are faring, but there are no follow-up reports available, which leaves a nagging void. Opting for diversion The pathway to our house is lined with harrowing traumas. Typically, kids get sent to us after cut- ting themselves, overdosing, threatening or attempting suicide, and winding up at the Salem Hospital Emergency Room. Kids are referred to the Psychiatric Cri- sis Center for screening, and, if deemed appropriate, placement in our home. In all cases, access to the program is offered as a voluntary option for youths and their par- ents or guardians. The shift from hospital to home is known as Emergency Department diver- sion. These diversions provide a two-fold purpose: free up hospital emergency beds and shift kids to a home atmosphere for spells of rest, recovery and renewal. From the start, we have been adamant about not accepting kids with histories of sexual offenses or violent attacks, in part because our grandchildren are frequent visitors. We also have a friendly black lab, so we don’t take kids who’ve abused ani- mals. We’ve turned down placements we didn’t think were appropriate for a home without security cameras, locked win- dows and alarm systems. Thankfully, we’ve never been hit, kicked or otherwise harmed, nor have our grandkids and dog. Verbal outbursts have been rare. Much of the emotional venting has come from kids who were upset, some sobbing, be- cause they missed their loved ones. A few kids have pleaded or demanded to go home, persuading us to pull the plug. Length of stays have ranged from one night to 26. Two or three nights is typical. Most of our guests have been teenagers, but we’ve had visitors as young as 5. Most kids take prescribed psychiatric medications. We follow bottle-label direc- tions in dispensing the meds at the right times in the right doses. Some kids have attended school during their stays, others have not due to suspen- sion, expulsion or dropout. Coming up with things for them to do can be a task, more so during the pandem- ic. We often go out to parks and play- grounds. Before COVID, we also routinely took kids to a theater, library, museum or athletic event. Though most kids soon go back to their own homes, some take a different route, moving from respite care to residential treatment facilities such as the Children’s Farm Home in Corvallis or Albertina Kerr’s Crisis Psychiatric Care program in Port- land. However, secure beds are hard to come by, so some youths have had stays extended while they waited. Overcoming despair At times, we’ve struggled to handle emotional outbursts and public melt- downs. Other times, we have been buoyed by our charges’ resilience, cooperation and smiles. We have seen hope flourish among youths yearning for fresh starts amid bleak circumstances. Here is a small sam- pling, gleaned from notes taken during each placement, with names changed to protect privacy: Lily's story Lilly, 17, arrived with suicidal thoughts and recent history of cutting herself. She was withdrawn, depressed, almost mute. Seeming disoriented, she hid behind her hair, which she kept in front of her face. Lilly remained quiet and shy, but even- tually opened up about her family history and despair. She had never attended school, had no friends except a man she met on the Internet, felt trapped because she had to babysit relatives all day in un- sanitary conditions and viewed herself as totally inadequate in most aspects of daily life. We provided Lilly with numerous ac- tivities. She enjoyed doing new things, in- cluding picking blueberries, petting ani- mals at Friends of Felines, checking out books at Salem Library, visiting antique shops and a comic book store, touring the Hallie Ford Museum and browsing at The Fussy Duck gift shop. We also took her to get her hair cut, which made her smile. Lilly took pride in her drawing, saying that she hoped to become a cartoonist. She beamed at our compliments. When Lilly left, she gave us big hugs and said she wanted to stay in touch. Less than a month later, Lilly returned for a second stay after another blowup at home triggered a suicide threat. Upon ar- rival, she was even quieter and more sub- dued than during her previous stay. On the day scheduled for her to go home, Lilly broke down in tears, telling us she dreaded a resumption of unbearable routines. We encouraged her to open up during talks with her counselor and family members and advocate for desired changes. She vowed to try. Eva's story Eva, 16, described detailed conflicts that resulted in multiple hospitalizations for suicidal thoughts and behavior. Vigilant monitoring was part of the dai- ly routine with her, as she was often negli- gent about her diabetes care. She said it was “because I don’t care if I live.” Our deep concerns about Eva’s diabe- tes care lingered throughout her several- weeks stay. We constantly worried about her health and safety. Late one night, we learned she had gone out her bedroom window onto the roof. She provided no explanation, but we later found cigarette butts on the ground. In a positive development, Eva told us that she liked to read because it eased her anxiety and took her mind off negative thoughts. We took her to Salem Library several times and she spent many hours reading books she selected. Our final activities with Eva included a family get-together for Christmas and a visit to the Riverfront Carousel with our daughter and grandchildren. Eva was up- beat during these outings. We told her that it was nice to see her smile and praised her for going home with a positive attitude. A 5-year-old Kari, 5, came to our home for a stay aimed at “stabilizing aggressive behav- iors.” We quickly learned she required con- stant supervision, as she tended to wan- der off in fearless fashion. She also had a habit of approaching strangers with a sim- ple question: “Do you want to be my friend?” Kari is strong-willed and full of energy. During a trip to Riverfront Park, she roamed around at a fast pace on a hot day, conducting her own kind of meet-and- greet adventure. “Can I hold your baby?” she asked one couple. She later attached herself to an- other couple with two children in tow, checking out their bicycles and honking the horns as they tried to leave. Then she ran to the water-spray fountains, biting at the spray and chatting up everyone who came into her orbit. While Kari’s friendly behavior was en- dearing, it could also be worrisome and draining. Keeping tabs on her wasn’t easy, as she honored no boundaries. Alan Gustafson is a former Statesman Journal reporter.