One of the older lifers, whom I will call Greg, told me on my first day as a volunteer that they needed a male, Native American volunteer, not me. I agreed that would be ideal, but he would need to find one. I told him when he did, I would leave.  He stated the same thing to me every time I saw him for years. I responded each time that he should find a volunteer and I would leave when he did. I also told him the group very much needed a volunteer so I would continue until he found a replacement.

He said I was trying to run the group. I told him if I were running the group, it would certainly be run differently than it was. The other Native inmates knew of his very negative feelings towards me, but they kept asking me to stay. In fact, another older Native inmate told me when no one else was in the office that I made a good volunteer for them because I was reliable and was neutral. I didn’t owe allegiance to any tribe or to any family. He said a Native volunteer would be expected to favor his own tribal members and his own incarcerated family members.

Greg was transferred from the Hill to Jameson after trying to tell our supervisor in the chapel what to do.  I thought I would have some peace. I did… for a while.

I was also helping the Native group at the Jameson unit get supplies, plan and supervise powwows and spiritual conferences, make calls to potential speakers, etc. He had a leadership role in that group.

One day in 2011 I was called to my supervisors office and asked if I knew an inmate at Jameson had written to the warden demanding that I be removed from the prison immediately because I was embezzling money from the group and had stolen one postage stamp from them. I was astounded because I had been donating money to their group to help cover expenses. I was their outside treasurer, but provided them with copies of receipts and bank statements every week.  Then I learned that not only had a letter gone to the warden, but copies had also gone to the Governor, our Congressional delegation, and judges in SD.    Greg didn’t sign the letter, but talked other inmates into signing it by having them sign a petition with the top part covered as they went out to rec.  The wording in the letter was clearly his.

I was very upset because I felt betrayed and angry that they were accusing me of embezzlement while I was still working as a CPA and certainly didn’t want my professional reputation damaged. I spoke to some of the other inmates in the group, who told me Greg was behind this along with three other men and the others had no idea what he had done.

I told them I was done being their volunteer.  I said if I wanted to be insulted, I could stay home.  I said I didn’t want to punish everyone in the group for the actions of a few so I would continue to buy botanicals and supplies for them, but would no longer meet with them.   The warden cancelled their next powwow since they no longer had a volunteer to get it set up.

A couple of months later when I was bringing botanicals to Jameson, another older lifer asked me if they could please have a general membership meeting to resolve the issues.  He told me the great majority of the group was angry about the way I had been treated. He said if they couldn’t meet, they had no way of righting the wrong. My supervisor agreed to the meeting and sent the chapel intern to the meeting with me to witness what was said.

It turned out that the underlying issue was that one of the tribes had made a donation and sent a letter with the donation on how they wanted the funds disbursed to the various Native inmate groups at all the prisons in South Dakota. They didn’t want to be bothered with writing out a bunch of checks so they sent one with the instruction letter and I followed their wishes. Greg thought the group at Jameson should get the entire check. I brought copies of the letter from the tribe to the meeting and passed it around for everyone to see as well as copies of the checks disbursing the money to all the groups.

One of the younger leaders in the group stood up and made a motion to take everyone off their council and to vote in new members.  They did this. Greg ran for council again and received three votes.  The younger leader was elected as their president. I told him I didn’t want to resume doing everything I had done for the group previously because there were still the four members of the group whom I could never trust again at Jameson.  We entered into an agreement, which he called the peace treaty, on what I would do and not do.  I told him I was done helping with family powwows and spiritual conferences, but would continue with supplies, botanicals, and meeting with men who had a death in their family. I also said I would continue supervising pipe ceremonies for about half a dozen mental health inmates at Jameson. They wouldn’t have been allowed to have ceremonies if I wasn’t in the room with them.

Fortunately, a man who used to teach at the prison and knew most of the inmates agreed to be in charge of the powwows and spiritual conferences after he retired from another job.  By the way, he was white.

Greg was eventually transferred back to the Hill. The inmates were holding their breaths on how that would go. His animosity towards me was well known. When people asked me about him, I said I prayed for him and it was up to their group to decide what role he would have.

His daughter became very ill. The warden told me to allow him to come to my office to call her at the hospital. She died a couple of weeks later.  He was overcome with grief and apologized to me for the way he had acted towards me. He said I might be white on the outside, but I was red on the inside.

He was elected president of the group last year. I’ve heard he still says mean things about me so I don’t trust him, but at least he has quit saying them to my face.  I steer clear of him as much as I can. He is younger than me so I’m quite sure he will outlast me. By the way, he still has not found a male, Native volunteer.

Mary Mantoya