Copyright © 1999 NLThomas
All Rights Reserved

The following interview took place with Len Foster in March 1999. Mr. Foster, as project director and spiritual advisor for the Navajo Nations Corrections Project, has fought for religious freedom for Indian inmates for the last 19 years. He was raised as a traditional Navajo, and became a sundancer after making a vow at Wounded Knee in 1973 that he would help his people through spiritual practices.

In 1981, in the midst of graduate work at Arizona State, Mr. Foster became part of a volunteer group taking the pipe and drum to prison inmates. The experience inspired him to found an Indian spiritual counseling program for correctional facilities. Today his work involves 89 state and federal prisons, ranging from minimum security to Supermax. He has authored or co-authored legislation in New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado and Utah to ensure that Native American inmates have access to their religious practices.

This January, as the result of persistent advocacy, Mr. Foster helped set a precedent:for the first time, a Native American inmate on death row was permitted to use a sweat lodge as part of his last rites.

Len Foster:
"Religious freedom is guaranteed in the first amendment of the United States Constitution, but Native Americans seem to fall outside that protection. We have to seek legislation to bring forth this concern, which is that our spiritual rights are being denied.

          "In 1978, a policy was developed that was supposed to guarantee these rights, called the American Indian Religious Freedom Act. Then in 1990-91, the American Indian Religious Freedom Coalition tried to amend the act with legislation called the Native American Free Exercise of Religion Act. This federal legislation was introduced by Senator Daniel Inouye of Hawaii. Many, many Indian people were involved; Indian leaders were brought in from all over the country. Testimony was given and documented as to the great need and purpose of providing religious rights for Native Americans in prison. But the legislation didn't pass; it never got out of committee.

          "Through my experience, Native American religious practices are the most important form of therapy for rehabilitation. I've seen individuals change as a result of their participation in a sweat lodge ceremony on a regular basis. Only about seven percent of Indian inmates who participate in traditional ceremonies reoffend, compared to the 30 - 40 percent recidivism rate among those who do not. But prison officials don't recognize our spiritual beliefs as valid. They see our practices as a security threat to the institution.

          "For example, they have stated on numerous occasions that they won't let Indian people grow their hair long because they could hide guns, knives, bullets, contraband in their hair. There hasn't been one documented case of this happening, but it's always given as the reason. It's a control issue. If they can cut your hair, they can control you - spiritually castrate you. When we use the pipe, they make racist remarks, like "You smoking marijuana or peyote in your pipe?" It displays their ignorance of our beautiful culture.

          "The sweat lodge is one of the oldest forms of purification and cleansing of body, mind, and spirit, but prison officials haven't bothered to learn about it. They feel that if our people would go to church, go to AA and NA meetings, we would be saved. But that doesn't work for us. We need our own traditional ceremonies. The sweat lodge is a very profound therapy for insight into behavior, attitudes, responsibility, respect, sobriety. It's a place one comes to pray, sing, and meditate about his problems, or to seek a blessing for family or loved ones. But prison officials think we're plotting and planning when we're in the sweat lodge. We're not inside a prison building and we're hidden from view; we're drumming and singing in a language they can't understand. They see a security threat because of the use of fire and hot stones.

          "We've pursued litigation as well as legislation to obtain the right to pray, to meditate and participate in ancient practices, but that's been very difficult because the courts are not friendly to Native American beliefs. More recently, negotiation has become another avenue. The National Native American Prisoner's Rights Advocacy Coalition, comprised of 44 Indian organizations, tribal governments and Indian activists, has negotiated with the Federal Bureau of Prisons under the U.S. Department of Justice. We've met with them seven times to revise the policy on Native American religious practices. We've also met with the Association of State Correctional Administrators to create a dialogue. It's been a huge effort by the National Congress of American Indians, the Native American Rights Fund, the Navajo Nation, spiritual leaders, tribes, activists and other Indian organizations to obtain the right for our people to practice their spiritual beliefs.

          "The most recent experience I've had was visiting a 38-year-old Pima Indian named Darick Gerlaugh, who was incarcerated 19 years ago on death row in Arizona State Prison. Mr. Gerlaugh was convicted of killing a white person while under the influence of alcohol and drugs. Alcohol is a very prominent factor in our people's incarceration; it undermines our spiritual values. It's been devastating. Anywhere from 95 to 98 percent of Indians are in prison because of alcohol-related felonies.

          "I'd been visiting Mr. Gerlaugh for the past 15 years. He became a client, a patient, and a friend of mine. In November 1998, he was served his warrant of execution, notifying him that his execution was scheduled for February 3rd, 1999. So I visited him seven times throughout the next three months. About every other weekend I took a pipe into the prison and prayed with him and got him ready for his execution.

          "Prior to this I had sweated with him while he was on death row; he was allowed to use the sweat lodge nine times in 15 years. When his execution date was scheduled, I made the request to use the sweat lodge and perform the ceremony two more times. The prison officials said no, it was a security risk: he was on death watch, being watched 24 hours a day.

          "I had to approach the executive director of the Department of Corrections in Arizona, and was ready to go to the governor of Arizona to make a petition that my client be allowed his last rites as an Indian. Mr. Gerlaugh was a traditional Indian. He didn't want a Catholic priest to come in and perform last rites; he wanted a Native American. He and his family asked that I be allowed to do that through the sweat lodge. After some negotiations with officials, they approved one ceremony, for Saturday, January 30, 1999. We attribute that decision to the prayers we made; the blessing was provided through the Creator.

          "The day of the ceremony, there were three vehicles patrolling the areas outside the gates. There were 11 guards, three chaplains, and two cameras - one hand-held camera they walked around with, and one on top of a building next to the sweat lodge. The lodge was in an area that was isolated from the general population. It was one I had built in 1992; it was used on very rare occasions for Supermax prisoners.

          "I consented to a strip search because I was going to be in close contact with my client. I was completely stripped down and they went through my clothes and my medicine bundles. Then they took me out to the sweat lodge area. Pete Jackson, a Pima Indian from Sacaton, Arizona, was our firekeeper. We heated up the stones for two hours, prayed and made offerings. There was one German shepherd that was just completely hypnotized by the fire. Pretty soon it was laying down. The person leading it was trying to pull it up, but it didn't want to get up, it was so entranced with that fire.

          "The ceremony was held from eight in the morning until 1:00 pm. It began very slow and somber. Only Mr. Gerlaugh, myself and Mr. Jackson were allowed in the lodge. It was a beautiful ceremony. Mr. Gerlaugh's body, mind and spirit were cleansed; he expressed his remorse; he prayed for his victim, for his loved ones. He let go of his pain, his anger, his remorse. It was sad, but it was also a joyous occasion. At the conclusion my client was very happy, relieved - he was ready to go into the next world and meet his Maker.

          "The sweat lodge provided that blessing. It was a very holy event - a very special day for my client, his family, and Indian people across the country. We considered it a victory that he was allowed to have his last rites as a traditional Indian; we demonstrated that the ceremony could be held without any incident. Before, it had never been approved. We made history that day.

          "There's not many people who have actually witnessed an execution. I prepared myself by visiting my own Dine' medicine man for a sweat lodge ceremony and prayer. It's a cultural taboo to view something like that, but I knew one day I would be requested to be a spiritual advisor for an inmate who would be executed. There are a number of Indians on death row at this time.

          "On February 2nd I was allowed to take the pipe in to Mr. Gerlaugh one more time. He and I spent almost two hours together and we prayed with the sacred pipe. On Wednesday, February 3rd, I went in at 12:25 pm to see him until 2:30 pm. Then the guards escorted me to the warden's conference room. There was a stay of execution for four hours while the U.S. Supreme Court ruled on his appeal. About 6:30 that evening they ruled 7 to 2 in favor of execution. But I saw him again for about three hours during the stay of execution.

          "At 7:00 pm we were led into a room where he was strapped to a gurney. He was wearing a new light blue shirt and a brand new pair of blue levis and white socks, no shoes, and a cotton sheet around his waist down to his ankles. He had his arms stretched out on the gurney. There were IV's leading to his elbows. The director of the Arizona State Department of Corrections read a statement that the warrant of execution was being done. He asked Mr. Gerlaugh if he had any last words, and he said no. Then the warden of the central unit read what was to take place.

          "There were perhaps 20 people present as witnesses: wardens, chaplains, government officials. Mr. Gerlaugh was the first Indian executed in Arizona, and there was quite a lot of press there: CNN, NBC, all the different newspapers. My client had requested that his family not be present, so Pete Jackson and I were there. Mr. Gerlaugh was very respectful looking, and showed a lot of courage. He had braided his hair in a traditional Indian fashion. At first they weren't going to let him do it - usually he tied his hair up - but that request was important to him.

          "Once the IV took its course, within two-three minutes he was gone. They pronounced him dead at 7:09. It was very sterile, very calculated, inhumane and barbaric, seeing his neck stiffen. It was like a chess move. It's a very cruel and unusual punishment for any human being to be executed. I'm totally opposed to the death penalty and I hope this country abolishes it.

          "I felt very sad; I had known Mr. Gerlaugh for 15 years. I know the family was full of sorrow, but they were also very brave. The prison released the body to Pete Jackson, who served as the representative for Governor Mary Thomas of the Gila River Indian Nation and for the Gerlaugh family. Mr. Gerlaugh had lived on the Gila River Pima Indian Reservation, and they had ceremonies performed at home - Native American Church prayer services, done in a traditional Indian fashion. The funeral and burial were done within four days of the execution.

          "The denial of our religious practices is very profound. It borders on cultural genocide. There are more Indian people in U.S. prisons than any other nationality, and I find that disturbing. There's a message right here that we need to reach out and provide rehabilitative opportunities. Our Indian people need to take a leadership role. We can't continue to act like we don't have a problem with drugs and alcohol. We need to take on that burden. Each generation of Indians has a responsibility to learn our ancient practices, our songs and prayers, to heal and help our people. It's hard when the non-Indian inhibits our beliefs. But we have to provide these teachings and instructions to future generations. I'd like more Indians to be involved. There are non-Indian wannabes trying to speak for us, and I don't think that's appropriate, or what we're looking for. We can only help ourselves."