Hoofed healers

Sir Winston Churchill famously said, "There's something about the outside of a horse that's good for the inside of a man."

But it turns out there's something about the inside of a horse that's also good for the inside of a man. Or woman, or child.

This is, of course, no news to Navajos. You over-50s who were problem children may remember your parents sending you out on a multi-day errand on horseback. It wasn't a punishment, per se, more like a chance for you to regroup and think about things. You may remember that the horse, in some strange, mystical way, helped you sort things out.

As usual, it has taken a while for modern science to catch up with Cheii and Másáni. The latest thing in psychotherapy is called "equine therapy." It's a little more structured than when your parents banished you and your steed to the desert with a couple pieces of fry bread and a sharpened stick for killing prairie dogs, but it's kind of the same thing.

And, after catching on like wildfire in places like southern California, equine therapy is slowly making its way back to Native America.

Friday, June 25, found a small group of youth from Pine Hill working with Ty Etsitty and Desirée Harvey of the Navajo Nation's Department of Behavioral Health, Suzi Landolphi of the non-profit Red Horse Nation and four horses at Oso Vista Ranch, a gorgeous stretch of high desert near El Morro that owner Margaret Merrill has dedicated to healing and community development.

The local youths participating in the five-day camp didn't necessarily have issues. The session was more about "learning about life and yourself and how to get the great things you deserve," as Landolphi explained.

It was also a chance for Etsitty, Harvey and Landolphi - three true believers in equine therapy - to introduce the concept and show how effective it can be.

The kids, ages 12 to 20, had spent Thursday getting oriented and introducing themselves to the horses. Friday morning saw the first of a series of challenging exercises.

This one was called "Crossing the Desert." Each youth had to think of three necessities - food, water, and clothing, or more ephemeral things like family, hope and faith.

These words they wrote on wooden planks, which they had to lay down like stepping stones in order to walk on them across the "desert," actually a sandy stretch of corral behind the ranch house.

To complicate matters, the "coyotes" - Harvey and Etsitty - could try to distract the kids and steal the planks if no one was standing on them.

The last person had to lead one of the horses across.

This was all a lot harder than it sounds, and served to teach some valuable lessons, starting before the first plank was laid.

Choosing a horse to accompany them, the group almost instantly settled on Buck the curious buckskin. Too instantly for Landolphi's taste.

"Did everyone want Buck?" she asked. "Who wanted a different horse?"

Two hands reluctantly crept up.

"You gave up what you wanted!" she chided. "You can still speak up. Even if you don't get what you want, you have a right to ask for what you need."

The group started out being manipulated by the wily "coyotes," but soon learned how to ignore them and fend them off.

At one point, Etsitty sneakily slipped off Buck's halter as the kid in back was leading him, and the boy had to coax the reluctant gelding back into the game. In this case, the horse represented a burden, such as a family member who can't help you with your quest and just needs to be taken care of.

Something "magical" happened during the exercise, according to Landolphi. The shyest boy in the group emerged as the leader.

"Yesterday, he was so quiet he almost didn't have a voice," she said. "It's like looking at a different kid. This wouldn't happen in talk therapy."

Harvey, a DBHS case manager, had watched Etsitty, a traditional practitioner, implement an equine therapy program with the youth at the Chinle DBHS treatment center four years ago. She said she's seen similar transformations.

"You see changes in two days that would take six months with Western-style therapy," she said.

Scientific studies have recently borne this out, said Landolphi, a screenwriter-turned-therapist from Los Angeles.

"We now know that experiential learning causes changes in the limbic brain," the part that affects emotions, she explained, while simply talking things out stimulates only the logic centers.

"We know this type of experiential treatment works better, and yet we cling to talk therapy," she said. "It drives me crazy."

Her own positive experience in equine therapy drove Landlophi to found Red Horse Nation, a non-profit that brings equine therapy to indigenous youths and adults.

Having been raised by a Penobscot stepfather, it was her way of giving back to the Native community. But she also discovered Natives have a special relationship with horses and many start to glow the minute they touch one.

"For tribes like the Navajo and Apache, horses were part of their historical greatness," she said. "When these kids get in touch with horses, that historical greatness comes out."

Etsitty, who is a rancher as well as a traditional practitioner, agreed.

"The horse was the foundation of our livelihood," he said, noting that elders used a horse's body parts to teach children spiritual lessons.

The hoof, for example - the horse's foundation, if you will - is comprised of an outer part resembling a prayer stack, and an inner part that looks like an arrowhead. The wise person, like the horse, stands on his spiritual values but is ready to defend himself if necessary.

The mane symbolizes rain, the eyes stars, the hind legs male lightning - "I could go on all day," Etsitty said.

Etsitty's equine therapy program was working well, but was shut down when the Navajo Nation government refused to fund it, citing budgetary and insurance concerns. That's when Landolphi stepped in.

"They can get insurance through my program," she explained. "We're here as a resource for them."

If Navajos take to equine therapy - and it looks like they will - Landolphi envisions it being used with families, veterans, addicts, and even maybe tribal government agencies trying to develop team-building skills.

"I'd love to see if the tribal council could use this," she said.

She's negotiating with a rancher in the Farmington area who may be willing to donate some land for an equine therapy facility.

"This could even help with the feral horse problem," she said, noting there's a type of equine therapy called "wild horse gentling" that requires untrained horses.

But the teens at Oso Vista don't seem to know they were in therapy. They were just having fun. Over a lunch of Navajo tacos on Friday, they ask Merrill if they can sleep over and make s'mores.

"Way to express your needs!" encouraged Landolphi.

Information: www.redhorsenation.com, www.osovistaranchproject.org.

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