On February 12, 1892, Lydia Hill Daggett (1823-1901) and a Miss Thomas arrive at Lynden in Whatcom County to begin operations at the Stickney Home, a boarding school for Native children. A member of the Women's Home Missionary Society based in Boston, she is the first director of a school that will continue operations in different forms and locations until 1914 under a variety of names. Unlike many schools for the education and enculturation of tribal children, this one comes with the blessing and practical support of a tribal leader. James Selhameten Yelewqaynem (?-1911) known by settlers as Lynden Jim, has provided property, a milk cow, and the prestige of his own respected position among both Nooksacks and whites. Over the next 22 years, the school will house and educate scores of Nooksack children as well as some from Lummi and from Canadian bands.
Methodist Outreach
The Women's Home Missionary Society (WHMS), a project of the Methodist Episcopal Church, was founded in 1880 and focused on training and supporting teachers, nurses, and mission workers in the United States with an emphasis on Indian reservations. The project at Nooksack was an outgrowth of the work of Rev. Charles Montgomery Tate (1852-1933), a British immigrant to Canada in the 1860s. After working for years with bands in the Lower Fraser Valley, he crossed the border to establish a mission at Nooksack. Part of the appeal for the WHMS and other supporters outside the region was to counter the success of Catholic proselytizing at the Lummi Reservation nearby.
The Methodists decided to build a boarding school at Stickney Island, between two Nooksack communities at The Crossing (present day Everson) and Sqwehálich across the Nooksack River from Lynden. At that time the Bureau of Indian Affairs provided subsidies for boarding schools, most of that money coming from Indian Trust Funds stemming from the sale (often forced) of tribal property. Other money for the Stickney School came from in-kind contributions from the Nooksacks themselves and from fundraising efforts in the religious community.
Lydia Hill Daggett was one of the founders of the WHMS in Boston and a longtime proponent of education, both in tribal communities and for Black children in the post-Civil War South. For several years she also edited a newsletter, called The Heathen Woman's Friend, for the Woman's Foreign Missionary Society. As a fundraising tool for supporters back East, she printed an account of her early days at Stickney Island. The letter is undated, but probably written in the spring of 1892"
"This home for Nooksachks – made possible by the generosity of Mr. L. Stickney (1915-1883), of Albany, N.Y., and the generous service of Brother [John] Carr, our late missionary to Renga, Alaska – is now a REALITY" (Daggett, 1).
Daggett wrote that after delays in construction, she decided to come to Whatcom County in person.
"Miss Thomas and I – left our home January 26th [1892] to come here and see what we could do. After hindrances of various kinds, one of the most novel of which being the last 14 miles of mudholes of unknown depths, streams bridged by floating logs between which we feared our horses would lose their legs, we safely arrived at Lynden, next door to our 'Mecca.'
"'Can you tell us where Stickney Home is?' We asked. 'Do you mean the Indian schoolhouse? Come this way and I'll show you.'
"Across the river, away through the woods we obtained our first glimpse of the 'house beautiful' as it seemed to our longing eyes. 'How can we get over there?' 'Oh, you go down that way and you'll find a boat.' Where the boat lay is now called 'Stickney Crossing.' The swift rolling Nooksachk was crossed in a skiff, the mud and underbrush clambered through to the clearing, where stands the long-awaited-for Home. What not done! We thought it ready for occupancy. Rubbish everywhere – 'up stairs, down stairs and in the lady's chamber.' Where shall we lay out heads? ... Securing broom, shovel, scrub-brush and other requisites we begin our search for the floor of one room. By the next night we had a bed covered with bedding and pillows taken from home for an emergency like this, a stove, two chairs, a round table" (Daggett, 1).
Like most Indian boarding schools, Stickney was expected to be largely self-sufficient, with students providing much of the farm work and housekeeping. Federal money was dependent on the schools meeting a set of requirements, so it was not dispersed in advance. Daggert wrote:
"We shall get nothing from government until our quarterly repost has been plentifully adorned with 'red tape,' which will take at least one month – four months we must wait. Meantime what shall we eat and 'wherewithal shall we be clothed?' The board is too heavily burdened to easily advance all this and meet other demands. We need a 'Sustenance Fund' for this purpose. From this we will draw until government pays and with that begin another four months struggle for life" (Daggett, 6).
Among the requirements was that students worked for half the school day. Depending on the priorities of the staff, this mandate could function as protection against exploitation in the form of full-time labor or as an inroad into their educational time.
"Here's a day's work: Bell calls all to duty. Before breakfast. One sweeps front stairs, hall, front platform and steps; another dining-room, kitchen, wash-room, back platform and steps; two prepare wood for the day; two bring water; one does general work; Katie [age 7] puts the sewing room in order; Sarah milks her grand-father's (Jim's) cow, the milk of which we share with the calf for her keeping; others help about breakfast. This and morning prayers over the large boys – one 5 feet 9 1/2 inches – go to their work with Mr. Carr, cutting down trees – one over a hundred feet tall – grubbing and sowing what is ready to receive seed. Others remain to help about the house. On their knees they will scrub floors better than most hired help at home. Boys have care of their own rooms, sweep and make beds. George made a washstand so all can properly prepare for breakfast before leaving their room. Katie efficiently aids in the sewing room: the others in the domestic department. Not believing in 'more cats than will catch mice' the little ones do chores of all sorts; girls learning to sew, boys bring in wood, etc. (Some of our big boys sat one evening and hemmed each a handkerchief for themselves – better than some girls of the same age I've seen.) Dinner over, recreation hour. At 2, schoolroom exercises. Look at those tall, stalwart boys that this forenoon fell trees and grubbed, planted and sowed, and those girls that cooked and sewed. See them at their work on the blackboard. ... 'School's out.' Can white boys throw or catch ball better that these? Look at the baseball players. We bought them one, believing that boys who work and study as do these should have their playground furnished as well as the work ground and schoolroom. Supper and evening worship over, in which all join more devoutly than any number of white boarding school pupils I ever saw – all choose their own way to spend the evening, usually vibrating between dining and sewing room ..." (Daggert, 2-3).
Daggett envisioned a community of Nooksack Methodist farmers created by white missionary influence and training. When she shared the novelty of Indians "grubbing," she was unaware that the Nooksacks routinely cultivated land for camas and fern roots.
"LATER. - "Would you lend us your plow when not using it? Gladly we loan anything that will help them to use the land all about them now lying idle. It is not Jim's land alone that will be brought under cultivation. Every Indian comes to his old chief's house – is welcome to his best, all he has. From his influence will come other cleared and planted ground all up and down the river. Is it worth your while to help us radiate such influences all about among these long neglected people to support this work? Then do it soon as possible" (Daggett, 5).
Like a public radio pledge-drive host, Daggert dangled prizes in return for financial support. The biggest donor, Mrs. Stickney, got the family name on the school itself. More modest givers were promised door nameplates and fruit trees:
"Mrs. Sulliger, Port Townsend, enabled us to have stair rails to prevent our little ones from making their descent too rapidly and thus cause a doctor's bill. By this gift of $20 she names our pretty front door ...
"Were I to close without asking for 'a collection' I am sure you would think me backslidden. This would be terrible to me, so I proceed to pass around the box, and will you please put in 'five dollar pieces?'
... "We have now 63 fruit trees set. And what I want is $5 from each of as many persons or auxiliaries. For every one of these fives the name you choose shall be put upon one of these fruit bearing trees to be, and when the tree is large enough it shall be cut into the bark where it will increase in size until the tree ceases to grow" (Daggett, 6).
Government funding ended for good in June 1892 as federal policy changed to prioritize government schools. The next year enrollment dropped to five pupils until the WHMS gathered up enough pledges to raise the numbers to 15, with another five reported on a waiting list. Money, and periodic damage to the buildings and crops by the Nooksack River in flood, remained the biggest challenges for most of the school's existence.
