Related: A surprising remedy for teens in mental health crises
When it’s up and running, the small Warm Springs call center will be a lot like the one in Bend, where Eddie Lopez, 17, is among the young people answering the phones.
On a chilly February night Lopez sat in the cozy call center with half a dozen other teen call takers and three adult supervisors. Lopez moved to Bend, about an hour south of Warm Springs, when he was 15. The transition was brutal, he said. But the gracious welcome he was offered when he arrived inspired him to give something back.
“Obviously, I won’t understand people from all walks of life,” said Lopez, whose family is Mexican-American. But “mental and emotional support is kind of universal in a way,” he said. “Everyone likes to be validated. Everyone likes to feel like they’re not alone. I’m helping even if I don’t understand them as people.”
Lopez read a message on his computer screen from a person saying they felt unloved.
“I also feel better when I talk about my feelings,” the texter wrote. “I just want to heal from them, but I don’t know how to heal?”
The key when texting people who reach out for help is to make sure they know that they are not alone and that their feelings are valid, Lopez said. The teens are taught to avoid giving specific advice; instead, they ask questions.
“I’m very thankful you shared that with me,” Lopez texted back under his alias. “It takes a lot of bravery to be vulnerable. Have you talked to anyone about what you’ve been going through?”
The goal is for the texter to say how they will take care of themselves — for that evening, at least. “Since we’re so short term, we kind of have to, like, motivate them to want to help themselves in a way,” Lopez explained. The teen volunteers may list things other people do to calm down, like take a walk or listen to music.
Counselors on the Native and Strong line follow the same protocol, but they also list culturally specific practices, like smudging (the burning of sacred herbs), talking to an elder or eating a traditional food.
Both Hamilton and Jackson said they are determined to prove the need for Native-specific call lines and then expand their models. They want to see a nationally available, Native-run helpline available to every Indigenous person struggling with thoughts of suicide.
There was some encouraging news buried in the most recent CDC data on suicide released last year. The rate of suicide for young people fell 8 percent in 2022 and for Native people it fell 6 percent. Yet experts say a one year drop is hardly a trend.
Back in Bend, a call taker named Sarah Hawkins, 18, was chatting with someone worried about a rumor being spread about them at school. Following protocol as the conversation wrapped up, Hawkins asked the middle schooler what would help them tonight.
“IDK,” the texter replied. “Frankly, just talking about it made me feel so much better.”
This story about Native American suicide prevention was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for the Hechinger newsletter.
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