San Quentin News

Written By Incarcerated - Advancing Social Justice

When New Year Arrives For Native Americans

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“Rich in Culture, Rich in Tradition” read a blazing red banner at San Quentin’s annual Spring Pow Wow. The February 28 event was to celebrate the incoming Native American New Year.

“When the flowers begin to blossom it signals to us the New Year has arrived,” said Hector Heredia, SQ Native American chaplain, beaming with joy.

In North American indigenous cultures, the New Year is at the end of January or the first part of February, based on constellations and moon phases, according to a Manataka American Indian Council website article. The New Year is the time to celebrate the return of the sacred foods. According to some tribal tradition the first food that was created was the salmon and the second food was the deer.

Family, guests and prisoners filled San Quentin’s visiting room for the festivities. Indian sun, hoop and fancy dancers twirled and stomped around the visiting area to bless the event, as the scent of sage purified the air. The coronavirus scare and its associated deaths were not lost on the large crowd’s minds. The native elders chanted the “Black Wolf” song, a sacred prayer to honor the medicine men and ancestors, as the colorful tribal dancers moved around the pounding ceremonial drum.

“It’s the ceremony of life and death,” said Michael Paul Littlevoice, a visiting fancy dancer. “The drum and song is to honor our medicine people who are dwindling.”

Littlevoice said he’s from the Ponca tribe, but the “Black Wolf” chant comes from one of the oldest clans of the Choctaw tribe. Littlevoice, dressed in colorful rainbow regalia and eagle feathers, travels around the country performing the traditional buffalo and horse dances. The dances are for purification and healing as the steps are intended to banish evil.

“I don’t dance for entertainment,” said Littlevoice. “I dance for you all and your families’ healing. Dance is prayer and prayer is the key to life.”

Lee Planco, 82, a visiting elder, spoke about Native Americans’ struggles to institute religious services and to uphold Indian rights within the nation’s correctional systems. Examples are: sweat lodges, opposing grooming standards  (cutting off their hair) and performing sacred rituals.

“We have to honor the ones who have fought for these things,” said Planco, who is a veteran, retired correctional officer and chaplain. “It took us seven years to get a sweat lodge in a Nevada prison. I had to tell their administration that I fought for this country and that includes the freedom of religion. They thought about it for a second and said OK,” reflected Planco.   

Planco and Heredia, both military veterans, have a have a long history of Indian advocacy work. They both were a part of what they call the “Longest Walk.” In 1978, Native Americans walked from San Francisco to Washington, D.C. to protest 11 bills that were before Congress at that time. The bills would have limited rights to tribal government, hunting, and fishing. They also would have restricted access to social services by closing Native American schools and hospitals.

The 3,000-mile march started at Alcatraz Island in San Francisco. The marchers were a mixture of non-native and Native Americans. The group of more than 2,000 would stop along the route and hold “teach-ins” about native culture, beliefs, and practices in various cities and towns, according to the Global Nonviolent Action Database.  The trip took five months, but after more than 12 days of demonstrations and rallies in the D.C. area, Congress rejected all 11 proposed bills.  

“Don’t take for granted the things you have,” Planco said to the men in blue. “We never had jails or prisons in our ancient world. So get out and don’t come back here—get out and honor your mother.”

Gregory “White Eagle” Coates, a San Quentin resident, performed a song on his cedar flute honoring all women.  Visiting Hoop dancer Eddie Medril taught the prison residents the hoop dance.

“The dance tells a story of creation and honoring your ancestors,” said Medril. “When people walk as an individual it’s easy to forget their foundations. But when you start to look back at your ancestors, you can say I come from that— and that will give you the strength of more than you.

“Then you will know that you are a part of an empire and become unstoppable,” Medril added.

The magnetic sounds of the pounding drums bought out San Quentin’s new acting Warden, Ron Broomfield. Warden Broomfield joined the festivities and shared words of encouragement and inclusiveness. He has been making the rounds at prison programs and services.

The New Year celebration ended with a feast of salmon, the sacred food, and fry bread.

“Today was awesome,” said Joe Renteria, an SQ resident. “I believe everyone should experience this. If you look for your roots, you will find peace with the ‘Great Grandfather,’ just like a lot of us lost Indians do.”

Pow Wow celebration sees return of Native leader

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Photo by Dina Durano

Natives performing on tribal drums in the SQ visiting room


Lee Polanco was a correctional officer in San Quentin from the late 1980s to the 2000s. He still has family working within the prison.
“I worked Death Row, the housing blocks and the gun tower,” Polanco said. “But being a C/O wasn’t my calling. The Creator had bigger plans for me.”
Now 81, Polanco returned to San Quentin Sept. 7 to bestow the ceremonial blessing to open the Native American Religious Group annual Fall Pow Wow.
Tribal drums and coordinated dances echoed in San Quentin’s visiting room, as Polanco, draped in a blue and red shawl, danced with an eagle feather fan in his left hand and a gourd rattler in his right. As a gourd dancer, Polanco is the one who blesses the ground before a Pow Wow takes place. He is also a Sun dancer and keeper of the fire for the National Native American Church sweat lodge.

After leaving the duties of a correctional officer, Polanco became an advocate for Native Americans behind prisons walls. He was successful in bringing sweat lodges and native religious services to numerous California and Nevada institutions.
“It’s not who you know or what you’re doing but what you leave behind, and that’s the next generation,” Polanco said. “You are your identity. At first, I couldn’t even pray in my language. Now I wake up every morning and pray in my language.
“If you don’t know the language of your songs—dig them out and learn them,” he added.
The Fall Pow Wow is grounded in the revered tradition of sharing a meal as a community to help everyone get through the winter months.
But celebration of Native American customs in prison has encountered resistance in many prisons through out the country.

“We are a sacred people. We pray for everything,” said Hector Heredia, Native/Indian chaplain. “We have been doing these things for thousands of years, and we are a generation that needs to still identify our culture.
“We don’t sing our songs for entertainment –our songs are spiritual.” Polanco added, “We bless our food, and we wipe down our people with sage (for purification).”
At the ceremony, much of the sacred rituals had to be done symbolically due to the prohibition against smoke or fire within the visiting room. A circle was formed with the small diverse group of family, friends and guests, as Polanco unwrapped the “Canupa” (Cha-nu-pa) sacred ceremonial pipe and passed it around.
The strains of Polanco’s native song rose and fell as people passed the Canupa around and made silent prayers. The circle, or hoop, represents infinity and the man and woman coming together.
“Lee (Polanco) does stay on top of things going on in San Quentin. He does pray for the people all the time,” said Joyce Polanco, Lee’s girlfriend.
Photo by Dina Durano

Greg “White Eagle” Coates serving up a meal


Before the blessed meal was served including the traditional fried bread, the ritual Grand Opening Dance was done. The small crowd left the visiting room and danced their way back in. Everyone was in lock-step with each other as they danced into another circle.
Chaplain Heredia then prsented Polanco with a spear- headed wooden plate from the Native American prisoners. In true tribal tradition of gift giving, Polanco gave Heredia the gourd rattler.
“Plant some seeds and make more rattler out of them,” he told Heredia, urging him to carry on the tradition. Then Polanco turned to the audience.
“If you give somebody something ― give them something good,” Polanco said. “Also show respect and appreciation when someone helps you.
“All you brothers are special because you come from a woman,” Polanco added. “I have learned from you all.”

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Native Americans Are Overlooked in Mass Incarceration

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Native Americans are often overlooked when it comes to mass incarceration and police abuses, according to an article in Truth-Out News Analysis.
Native Americans are incarcerated at a 38 percent rate higher than the national average, according to the Bureau of Justice.
They are incarcerated at nearly twice the rate of Whites and slightly more than Latinos but less than half the frequency of Blacks, according to the article.
Native American women are incarcerated at six times the rate of White women, according to a report compiled by the Lakota People’s Law Project.
The U.S. Commission on Civil Rights attributes lack of access to adequate counsel and racial profiling for the higher rates and the differential treatment by the criminal justice system.
“For Native American’s, being overlooked is nothing new, said Simon Moya-Smith, a journalist quoted in the article. “Our voices are seldom in the mainstream, our issues disregarded … this country has yet to recognize our humanity.”
From 1999 to 2013, Native American deaths in custody per capita was roughly equal to those of Black people and nearly double the rates for Hispanics and almost three times the rates for Whites, according to data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
Those who have died at the hands of police in recent years are Rexdale Henry, Mah-hi-vist Goodblanket, Allen Locke, Paul Castaway and Sarah Lee Circle Bear, the article states.
Henry and Circle Bear passed away in police custody under suspicious circumstances, according to the article. Locke and Goodblanket died in a hail of bullets. Henry, a Choctaw, died a day after Sandra Bland, a Black woman who made headlines after a traffic stop and death in custody. But Native American deaths have attracted little media attention beyond the indigenous circles, the article states.

“Our voices are seldom in the mainstream, our issues disregarded … this country has yet to recognize our humanity”

Under federal jurisdiction Native people faced longer sentences when Native courts lost its sovereignty in the legal criminal realm, the article stated.
In 2014, the U.S. Sentencing Commission formed the Tribal Issues Advisory Group to address federal commission reform recommendations from 2003.
Native Americans represent about 2 percent of the overall U.S. population.
Yet in states like South Dakota, Natives represent 8.9 percent of its population but are 29 percent of the prison population, and juveniles were 38 percent, according to its 2011 state’s Department of Corrections, as reported in the 2013 April edition of the Prison Legal News.
In Montana, Natives are about 7 percent of the general population but 19 percent of the men state’s prison population, and women made up 33 percent of its prison population. Minnesota in 2012 indicated that 1.3 percent of Native American were state’s residents, but its DOC reported that 9 percent of its prisoners were “American Indian,” according to the same Prison Legal News article.
Tribal authorities are fighting to re-empower its courts to bring about genuine alternatives. That embodies a restorative justice model that differed from the punitive and adversarial system of the U.S., the Truth-Out News article stated.
True justice, argues Robert Yazzie, chief justice emeritus of the Navajo Nation, “rejects the process of convicting a person and throwing the keys away in favor of methods that use solidarity to restore good relationships among people. Most importantly, it restores good relations with self,” the article quoted.
The article concluded, “Even today, many tribal courts sit in peacekeeping circles rather than vesting all authority in one judge seated on high. While politicians seek answers to mass incarceration in metadata and cutting-edge risk assessment tools, they might find a more genuine alternative by listening to Native philosophers.”

Vice Principal Beebe Heads Rehabilitation

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The San Quentin education program is expanding after severe budget cuts in recent years. Leading the changes is Tony Beebe, acting principal of the prison’s Robert Burton Adult School.
“The statistics are very clear,” said Beebe. “If you get an education while in prison, recidivism rates drop.”
When people argue against educating, the incarcerated and the benefits that can come from it, Beebe speaks from experience.
“My argument is: educating the incarcerated works. The question is: what’s the price we are willing to pay for failing to do it?” he said. “For me personally, that price is too high.”
In 2004, Beebe began working at San Quentin. Subsequently, he transferred to California Medical Facility for about two years, returning to San Quentin in 2012. “I was the vice principal at CMF and it was really excellent,” he said. “It was one of the best learning experiences I’ve ever had.”
Discussing educational history, Beebe said education was denied to African-Americans but it was forced on Native Americans. “I’m from the Tsalagi (Cherokee Indian) nation, as my mother, my grandmother and all of my great-grandmothers,” he explains. “Children were taken from their tribes and beaten if they didn’t learn the language, but that has not affected my outlook on correctional education.”

“If you get an education while in prison, recidivism rates drop”

A graduate of Sacramento State University, Beebe received a degree in education administration. He said his style of leadership is to adjust to the situation and assume everyone is professional and doing what is expected of him or her.
“My hand is expected to be on the wheel and in some cases my influence will be applied to get the desired outcome,” he said. “My tendency is not to hinder people. If you’re doing a great job, you’ll not hear from me.”
“We do have two new vocational instructors, Mr. Ronald Romo and Mr. Dante Callegari,” said Beebe. “Mr. Romo is our electronics teacher. Mr. Callegari is the building maintenance instructor.”
“We are approved for 12 computers to be delivered and installed,” he said. The computers were bought with federal funds; and will be used to assist prisoners seeking GEDs (high school equivalencies), and college degrees.
Beebe said he expects the separate computer literacy program will be open in August. “It will be serving about 70 percent of eligible inmates,” Beebe said.

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