Reintegration On, Off the Reservation Spurs Hope, Challenges for Native Communities
By Tabitha Hidalgo
OKLAHOMA CITY, OK — After serving 38 years in prison for a crime he says he did not commit, Melvin Battiest, 64, emerged into a world where the support he had long counted on was suddenly out of reach.
“When I got out, I turned to my tribe for reintegration services like they had promised,” Battiest said. “But because I wasn’t living on the reservation, I was told I didn’t qualify.”
The Muscogee (Creek) Nation Reintegration Center is located in Okmulgee and offers Muscogee citizens reentry services; however, citizens must be living within one of the 12 counties on the reservation.
Mark Harjo, 31, outreach specialist and fiber optic coordinator at the Muscogee (Creek) Nation Reintegration Center, said services for enrolled citizens range from housing, food, clothing, case management and drug treatment. The facility is equipped with 36 residential housing units that are organized by clan names.
Mark Harjo, Outreach Specialist and Fiber Optic Coordinator, gestures towards the housing facility at the Muscogee (Creek) Nation Reintegration Center. Tabitha Hidalgo
Reintegration after incarceration poses unique challenges in tribal communities, where access to housing, employment and healthcare can be limited. For native citizens like Battiest, the process is about more than just rebuilding a life – it’s about reclaiming identity and sovereignty. His story is part of a larger effort within the Muscogee (Creek) Nation to reduce recidivism and restore community ties.
Frustrated but undeterred, Battiest decided to take action. Drawing on his experience, he and his wife, Tammeria Battiest, 62, co-founded Native Wings Like an Eagle, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit based in Oklahoma City dedicated to supporting native men and women after incarceration — especially those who, like Melvin Battiest, are rebuilding their lives outside reservation boundaries.
Clients gather in the medicine talking circle, taking turns holding the feather which means they have the floor. Tabitha Hidalgo
Native Wings officially has a commercial location and focuses on a critical transition period: the first year after incarceration. Its goal is to prevent native individuals from falling through the cracks — facing homelessness, recidivism, or even suicide.
“My whole mission is to take those coming out of prison, give them a successful reintegration process and then send them back to their reservation as an asset and not a burden,” Melvin Battiest said.
Native Wings Program Director Terri Begay, 54, uses her degree in social work to ensure clients successfully reintegrate back into society.
“When they come out, they’re in a deep survival mode and to get them out of that is really hard because they have to do a lot of work on themselves,” Begay said.
Begay said the primary barrier for individuals transitioning out of prison is trauma, followed by lack of resources.
“Quite frankly, the system is set up to have them fail,” Begay said. “So navigating that is another issue that we help them with.
For Native Wings, success is deeply tied to culture. Upon release, many native individuals find themselves cut off from their traditions — a vital source of identity and healing. Melvin Battiest understands this loss intimately.
“The first thing I wanted to do when I got out was go to a stomp dance, or I wanted to go to a powwow or I wanted to go where natives were gathered because I missed that," he said. "Culture is so important when you’re dealing with native people–regardless if you’re coming out of prison or not."
Melvin Battiest starts off and ends the medicine talking circle with a drum song as a way to reconnect clients to their culture. Tabitha Hidalgo
In summer 2022, Battiest convened a series of roundtable discussions with tribal leaders across Oklahoma. Despite early doubts that tribes could unite around a single reintegration effort, 25 tribes agreed there was a pressing need for services beyond reservation lines.
With their consensus, Battiest formally established Native Wings Like an Eagle. Today, the organization continues to build momentum, with several tribes offering financial and logistical support. His vision remains ambitious: unite all 39 tribal nations in Oklahoma behind the cause.
Battiest knows from experience that incarceration poses unique challenges for native people. While Native Americans represent a small fraction of the prison population, the cultural void inside prisons cuts especially deep.
Co-Founder Tammeria Battiest and Case Manager Sarah Elms discuss their journey in navigating a nonprofit that offers reintegration services. Tabitha Hidalgo
“There’s nothing there to connect us to who we are,” Battiest said.
During his incarceration, he fought to establish powwows and cultural programs in Oklahoma prisons, culminating in the Oklahoma Department of Corrections formally allowing sweat lodge ceremonies for native inmates — a small but vital victory.
According to the nonprofit, nonpartisan Prison Policy Initiative, native people are vastly overrepresented in the criminal justice system at a rate of of 763 per 100,000 — more than four times higher than the state and federal incarceration rate of white people.
Even after release, many native individuals struggle with a system that doesn’t recognize extended kinship ties — cousins, uncles, and nieces — central to native families but often excluded from official visitation lists.
“The system strips away what it means to be native,” Battiest said. “When we come out, we have to rebuild that.”
At Native Wings, cultural restoration is embedded into the reentry process. Clients participate in strong medicine talking circles, where ceremonies like smudging with cedar and sage create sacred spaces for healing.
Each circle begins with a drum song, grounding participants in tradition before sharing their struggles and triumphs.
The key, Battiest believes, is listening.
"In prison, the greatest gift I could give was a listening ear," he said. "Sometimes people don’t need answers. They just need someone to listen until the answers come from inside."
Consenna Allen, 43, reflects back on his first attempt at the Muscogee (Creek) reintegration program after successfully completing the fiber optic program. Tabitha Hidalgo
Consenna Allen, 44, has spent eight months in the Muscogee (Creek) Nation residential reintegration program. His first time, in 2021, resulted in his relapsing on drugs and getting treatment for substance abuse disorder. He currently works as a fiber optic lineman – training he received at the reintegration center.
He said individuals must make the choice to better themselves.
“There are people who want to change but don’t want to take that chance,” Allen said.
For Battiest, Native Wings is about more than survival — it’s about thriving. His hope is to reconnect native people with their culture, identity, and communities.
“Life put me where I needed to be,” he said. “Now, I’m here to help others find their way back to the circle they were missing.”
As the smoke cleared out from the smudging, Melvin Battiest and Tammeria Battiest announced to the group that the nonprofit’s funding had nearly depleted for the year.
“Until we get more funding, we will be closed on Fridays to save on costs,” she said, as clients listened intently. “But if you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out.”
On April 23, Native Wings was notified that the U.S. Department of Justice had frozen all grants, funds that they were waiting on.
“We have nothing coming in right now,” Tammeria Battiest said. “Everybody is scrambling. We got this phone call at 8 last night that they terminated our grants.”
Despite that lack of cash flow for Native Wings, Melvin Battiest still remains hopeful.
“We’re gonna keep working with our native brothers and sisters that are released,” he said. “We’ve got resources we can send them to.”
