Philip Stevens ’99
By Laurie Morrissey

As a boy, Philip Stevens roamed the high mesas of south- ern Arizona: swimming in the Gila River, scrambling up and down the canyons, and hunting and fishing with his father and grandfather. With a large extended family, his ties to his home were strong. Since then, he has spent four years in New Hampshire, two in Cincinnati, and two in South America—but he has always wanted to return to the San Carlos Apache Reservation to help his people.

He is starting to live his dream, working with the reservation’s health center and schools.

The San Carlos Reservation is one of the largest reservations in Arizona, home to 8,000 Apaches. "When I was growing up, even though my parents were poor, I didn’t know it," Stevens says. "Now that I see the reservation with adult eyes, it’s kind of a shock. I knew things were bad, but not this bad. We have high rates of alcoholism, drug abuse, arson, suicide, and gang activity, and an unemployment rate of 70 percent. They’re really heavy problems, and to top it all off, there’s a good deal of corruption."

As a prevention specialist at the reservation’s tribal wellness center, the Saint Anselm English major worked with young people to stress education and a healthy, substance-free lifestyle, helping them to rise above the social problems that plague Native American populations.

Stevens is dismayed that young Apaches are not as familiar with their natural environment as he is. "My uncle, father, and grandfather were always in the mountains, and I thought everybody knew about it." Recently, he led 25 youngsters on a nine-mile overnight hike to the center’s camp at Point of Pines Lake.

As a promising young student on the reservation, Stevens was sent to Phoenix for high school through a program called Boys Hope Girls Hope, and then earned a Saint Anselm College scholarship. After graduating, he spent two years working for Boys Hope in Cincinnati. Then he and his wife, Vanessa, went to Paraguay with the Peace Corps. They lived in a squatter community in Asuncion called San Cayetano and became fluent in Guarani, Paraguay’s indigenous language.

Stevens is a colorful storyteller. English Professor Denise Askin remembers him telling the story of trying out for the baseball team—pitch by pitch. "He made this terrific tall tale, complete with dramatic suspense and a heroic stand against the odds," she recalls. "A writer was in the making. When I read his poem, ‘Indian Jazzman,’ I knew."

This fall, Stevens began teaching fifth grade on the reservation. Eventually, he would like to teach college students, and someday even establish a college on the reservation. His next step is applying to a Ph.D. program in American literature at the University of Arizona.

"Whenever I’ve been away, what kept me going was the idea that I would take my knowledge and abilities back home," he says. "This is my home; these are my people. I’m going to do whatever I can to help."