Wanna Play Indian? Give Tamarack $8000

Greedy little creep, ain't he?

In 2002, the Yearlong program only cost $3600.

According to the Wisconsin State Journal, twelve out of fifteen people have quit the 2007-2008 Yearlong so far- a impressive number that almost beats the title holders from Yearlong 2002, which saw two survivors out of fourteen.

Can ya'll say "More money than sense"?

Look, we tried to warn you folks, and now each and every one of you twelve are out $8000 a piece. And Tamarack Song is laughing his racist, playing Indian, new ager ass off all the way to the bank. As the article clearly states, Tamarack and his phoney outdoor school aim to "teach traditional American Indian ways" - a racist, culturally imperialistic purpose if ever there was one. Only REAL Native American traditionals with deep roots in their own Nations can teach authentic, indigenous ways. Imagine if Tamarack claimed he could teach you traditional Jewish ways. The uproar would be pandemonious.

Dear god, white people! WTF??!!

Four are surviving year in the North Woods wild

Excerpts from the article by Ana Davis:

"THREE LAKES -- As dawn breaks over the icy North Woods, four shapes are beginning to stir inside a small, dark, birch bark shelter built deep in the heart of the forest. It's well below zero outside, and the trees and ground are covered in snow."

"The aim of the program, now in its eighth year, is to teach traditional American Indian ways and how to live in harmony with nature, without the comforts and distractions of the modern world."

"The tiny lodge, with its gently puffing campfire, earth floor strewn with pine needles and thatched walls covered with drying socks, has been home to Corley, Bastion Barucker, 24, and Armine Wetzel, 28, both of Germany, and Denise Bosak, 46, of Underwood, Minn., for the past nine months.

They are the last survivors of a group of fifteen who entered the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest in May on a yearlong wilderness program organized by the Teaching Drum Outdoor School in Three Lakes."

"Program cost: $8,000 for the year, including equipment, clothing and supplies Starting this year, the school will also offer monthlong internships for those who wish to experience living in the wilderness but cannot commit to a full year, at a cost of $850 per person."

Bad Publicity: The Teaching Drum in Stevens Point (WI) Journal

The reporter on this story, Shenandoah Sowash, was kind enough to contact us for a statement before publishing this account of the Teaching Drum Outdoor School. Unfortunately, the Stevens Point Journal does not allow anonymous sources, so we declined. Part of our strategy is to keep Tamarack Song (Dan Konen) and staff guessing at all times who our many contributors are.

Overall, we find the story satisfying. The legendary, come-apart Yearlong class of thirteen is highlighted with special emphasis on the dysfunctional nature of throwing mostly white kids together in the woods with total strangers for 24/7.

Note how both Luke and Jacob Brault blame themselves (and other students) for Tamarack's failures, as if sitting around all day and thinking about yourself and your problems is going to solve this culture's chronic narcissism, a narcissism readily apparent in both Tamarack's hokey, fake-lore writings and teaching style.

"I wanted to fulfill these dreams of pursuing alternative learning," said Jacob Brault, who participated in the 2002 program for five months, "but I had a romanticized idea of living off the land, a hippie dream, the Native American way."

Yes, that is the essence of our apartheid, white supremacist society, isn't it? A romanticized view of Native Americans. Now, who do we know girls and boys who peddles in his books and essays a romanticized view of Native Americans? That's right. Tamarack Song. And every other Twinkie-fied, white New Ager in this country writing about Native American "way" (as if there is some unified Pan-Indian way in the first place), while having next to zero contact or relationship with contemporary indigenous peoples and their struggles. Tamarack Song gasses on and on about relationships, but does he or anyone at his school actually have a committed relationship to Ojibwe people and resistance in his area?

The answer, of course, is no.

Our assessment of this article is mostly positive. Clearly, the Teaching Drum Outdoor School has been stung enough by our and others' criticisms that they are on the defensive now. After reading the story, please check out for yourselves additional eyewitness testimony from another student in the disasterous 2002 Yearlong.

To affirm the not-so-veiled undertone of this story: Yes, if you take part in the Teaching Drum's Yearlong, you may very likely end up in the woods with crazy people.

Posted July 8, 2007

Wilderness school builds self-knowledge

By Shenandoah Sowash
Central Wisconsin Sunday

Winter is the "White Season." Earth is the "First Mother." Fire is a male being. Welcome to the Teaching Drum Outdoor School in Three Lakes.

"On the surface, it looks like we might be just a primitive skills school, but we're truly about exploring the inner self. These skills mean nothing unless they're integrated into honoring relationship," said Tamarack Song, founder of the school.

Relationship is a term one hears often when speaking of Teaching Drum. Song believes relationship refers not only to the self, but to others, plants, animals and the earth.

"We want to guide people in the Old Way. So if someone asks a question, you ask a question in response," said Luke Brault, a staff member from Fond du Lac.

Founded in 1987, Teaching Drum offers a year-long immersion experience called the Wilderness Guide Program.

For one year, participants (also known as Seekers) learn vital survival skills and explore the Old Way, a reference to a Native American spiritual path. Alcohol, tobacco, firearms, caffeine, domestic animals and drugs are prohibited.

"I wanted to fulfill these dreams of pursuing alternative learning," said Jacob Brault, who participated in the 2002 program for five months, "but I had a romanticized idea of living off the land, a hippie dream, the Native American way."

Brault, who is Luke's brother, experienced physical difficulties during his time in the program, including an intestinal disorder referred to as Drum Disease.

"Being exposed to the elements 24/7 was really hard. Some of the things your body goes through are difficult," Jacob said.

Luke experienced comparable challenges in the program, though his were of a more emotional nature.

"The yearlong program takes you on an inward journey. I left because I ran into a wall of full personal depression. I couldn't deal with it out there," said Luke, who completed eight months.

According to Luke, the 2002 program started with 13 participants and only two completed the full year.

"It was a strange mix of people, a dysfunctional group," he said.

All volunteers or program participants must sign a liability waiver and agreement stating a licensed medical doctor has verified their physical health though a doctor's signature is not required, nor is there any mention of mental health history or status.

Despite Luke's experience in the program, he currently serves on staff as a carpenter and assists in running the school.

"What separates us from other schools is that we learn how to live as a clan," Luke said.

In such a setting, conflict and personal growth are inevitable.

"People come to the program with so much history that they're sifting through. Their personal history is hidden. There will always be tension when you put a group of people out in the woods together," Jacob said.

Still, the Braults believe such conflict should be worked though, not ignored.

Jacob looks back fondly on his experience, but not without ambivalence.

"When you're faced with it, you realize pretty quickly that it's not as romantic as you dreamt it would be," he said.

Playing Indian - Milwaukee Journal Sentinel Article

That photo just about says it all, no? More photos from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel article below are HERE.

Song of the Wilderness

American Indian traditions guide seekers who learn of the land, and themselves, in Oneida County

By Peter Maller
of the Journal Sentinel staff
Last Updated: Aug. 24, 2000

Three Lakes - Squatting at a campfire deep in Nicolet National Forest, Tim Nelson prepared the evening meal: barbecued garter snake.

It promised to be tastier than the grub he ate last spring while lost in the wilds at Teaching Drum Outdoor School, where he is a student learning wilderness survival skills rooted in ancient American Indian spiritual traditions.

Nelson, 20, raised in an upper-middle-class family in Cape Cod, Mass., chewed down raw leeches, frogs, worms and assorted bugs during a week spent wandering. Instead of cursing his luck, he recited prayers thanking Mother Earth for the bounty of the land.

When he finally located his home in the forest, a birch bark wigwam, he feasted on road-kill deer supplied by the school's headmaster.

"It's a rich life we live here," said Nelson, who recently completed Teaching Drum's apprenticeship program and signed on for another 12-month stint. "My existence didn't have much meaning before. I'm beginning to understand things better now."

Teaching Drum, a non-profit institution at an 80-acre nature preserve in northern Oneida County, was founded 11 years ago by Tamarack Song, 52, a former Fox Valley area businessman. Born Daniel Jerome Konen, the eldest of three outdoorsy brothers, he changed his name to one he felt better suited his spiritual identity.

Song launched Teaching Drum after growing up inspired by his mother's knowledge of wild plants and later living with a pack of wolves he rescued from a private zoo. He ran a water bed shop and a natural foods restaurant, while conducting a 20-year odyssey to learn traditional American Indian culture from tribal elders at reservations across the United States.

Teaching Drum, about 20 miles northeast of Rhinelander, offers dozens of courses aimed at students who are disenchanted with America's emphasis on materialism. The school accepts about 75 students a year. The cost of classes ranges from $50 to $350.

Even weekend workshops in hide-tanning, medicinal-herb gathering and building shelters from materials scavenged in the woods have a strong spiritual theme.

"There is a deep unfilled yearning in people that can be answered by going to a place that is stress-free - far from the routines of normal life - so we can hear the voices within us," Song said. "Lots of students are searching for their inner selves."

A student of anthropology, philosophy and wildlife conservation before dropping out of the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay, he also performs marriages and baby naming ceremonies.

Pupils at Teaching Drum are often empty-nesters and corporate professionals who are changing careers and searching for a new path. Other students, such as a psychologist and an electrician who took a recent course in basic Chippewa Indian culture, came looking for soul-satisfying vacations.

Students learn to make spoons, bowls and clothes from materials found in their surroundings. Lessons are also offered in shelter-building, mushroom-hunting, wild rice gathering and firemaking. Fire classes are taught using handmade bows and drills, drawn from ancient practices traced to early cave dwellers.

"Almost all the materials, including the tinder, come from cedar trees, which the native people of this area call 'the grandmother tree,' because it has such a sacred tradition," he said.

Song also leads boating adventures in dugout canoes. He sprinkles the voyages with tips on finding drinkable water, cooking without pots and locating "great natural toilet paper."

A self-effacing man who sports a bushy white beard and a braided ponytail, he is reluctant to accept payment for some courses because he considers them so sacred.

Each spring, students who sign up for a course entitled "Song of the Mosquito," are asked only for a free-will offering to the school's building fund. He promises to teach students "the rhythm of the forest, so we won't stand out as aliens ripe for bloodletting." Song calls the mosquitoes "guardians of the farther places." No bug spray is allowed.

Lodging at the school is provided at wigwams. Or visitors can bring their own tents. Class size averages from 4 to 10 students, to ensure personal attention.

Between school sessions, Song writes books and magazine articles for New Age journals. He also travels throughout the Midwest to present demonstrations at public schools and community festivals.

Nick Gale, 21, of Kenosha, a student in the apprenticeship program, said the year he spent under Song's tutelage deepened his reverence for nature.

"The most important lesson is to trust the landscape," he said. "Once you learn the basic skills, you don't need to worry about yourself. The land takes care of you."