PRYOR — Some say sports are life. In this case, the expression couldn't be more true.
“She just really fell into a shell, a really deep shell,” Martha DeCrane recalled of her daughter Lawren's emotions within the last few years. “I just was so wrapped up in my own grieving (after losing my mother), I wasn’t paying attention to Lawren and how it really affected her as well.”
“I couldn’t believe it … because this was my little sister," said older brother Blake DeCrane upon learning of Lawren's despairing grief. "I’d seen her grow up; she always had a smile on her face. Yeah, it was just hard to see.
"Honestly, I was in shock. I just gave her space. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how to handle the situation. That's the first time that's ever happened to me ... having a family member suicidal or having those thoughts come into their minds."
Depression's warning signs didn't stand out for Lawren's family or to those who knew her at school.
“You get emotional about it because you see so many kids you don’t exactly know what’s going on,” said Beau Malia, who coaches wrestling and girls flag football at Lockwood High School.
Lockwood activities director Mike Erickson struggles with the thought as well.
“Yeah, I get emotional … every time I talk about it,” Erickson said with tearful eyes.
Four years ago, as COVID tipped the world upside down, the weight of its impact initiated Lawren’s downward spiral.
She would shoulder one painful heartache after another in rapid manor. Lawren lost four close relatives, including two to COVID, and two of her grandparents. The last straw was losing her grandmother on the same day Lawren's Plenty Coups basketball team won a district championship.
“This is a picture of the day she lost her grandmother and the day she became a district champ,” Martha said while holding a photo she keeps on her refrigerator.
Lawren recalls it vividly.
“It was one of the hardest days of my life, one of the hardest games I ever played. But also a really big day for me, too, because we won,” Lawren said. “I made one point in that whole game. I just ... was too heartbroken.”
Graduating from Plenty Coups High School in Pryor, Lawren’s three older brothers realized the difficulty of growing up on Montana’s reservations. Along with their parents, the brothers encouraged a transfer for Lawren to Lockwood's new high school her freshman year, and the brothers, now living there, would help with the transition. Lawren agreed to the transfer but not until the start of her junior year.
"We felt like a new environment and a new surrounding would help build her character back up and make her smile again, you know," Blake said.
Though well-intended, entering a school five times the size she was used to in Plenty Coups wasn't easy.
As days turned to months, then years, Lawren wasn't feeling any better. And she wasn't letting on. Until one day she did.
"She was like, 'Geez, there's so many kids there,'" Martha remembered.
“There was somebody in front of me, there was somebody behind me, there was somebody on the side of me," Lawren recalled of her first experiences navigating the more crowded hallways.
“She was OK, and then she started falling into her shell again,” said Martha.
Worn down physically and emotionally, Lawren finally felt like she’d fallen to the bottom of sadness. Like so many others her age, she struggled with suicidal thoughts.
“I’ll admit to it, I’ve struggled with a lot of that," she said. “I just felt like, what was the point of being here?”
Eventually, Lawren was brave enough to confide in her parents the fragile feelings often unspoken in Native American culture.
“Taking your life, for one thing … that’s just a forbidden topic," Martha said. “She told us that she didn’t want to be here anymore. And that scared me. Honesty, I really didn't know what to do."
A schoolteacher of almost 20 years, Martha and her husband, Lawrence, reached out with urgency to Erickson.
“We had to start getting the word out, we had to let people know that it’s not about her mistakes on the court," Erickson said of informing Lawren's teachers and coaches about her depression. "It’s more about what’s going on from 8 to 4 p.m. every day in her life … when she goes to sleep, if she’s wanting to be awake in the morning and things like that.”
“Lawren is really a tough girl, and she doesn’t cry much," Martha said. "But when she cries, she cries hard. We know she needs it, so we were like, 'It’s OK, it’s OK … just go ahead and cry.'”
When Lawren's tears dried, the simplicity and joy of flag football emerged and changed everything.
The Atlanta Falcons were (and still are) actively funding start-up programs for high school girls across Montana, where team owner Arthur Blank owns a home. It turned out the Falcons happened to be in Lockwood last summer offering their free camp.
Lawren was encouraged by her brothers and Erickson to give it a shot.
"I really enjoyed them coming out and showing all of us how to play the game properly and spreading out (the fact) that girls can do more than just what they're told," she said.
Soon wavering between her fall sport comfort zone of volleyball or playing flag football, Lawren was talked into lacing up cleats for Lockwood’s first-ever team.
“(I told her) you know, you could be one of the ones to be pioneering the sport and you’ve got arm, you might as well utilize it,” Blake remembers saying.
Malia, the flag football coach, recalls his first time seeing Lawren chuck the football.
“I can’t remember what day it was, but she came out and threw like a 40-yard bomb. I mean, she could throw farther than I could,” he said in amazement.
The sport was almost instantly therapeutic for Lawren, and noticeable to Martha.
“Once flag football came, she started getting courage, her self-esteem, and it just made her happy,” Martha said. "She felt she just belonged. It just clicked."
Erickson could see it as well — Lawren's appreciation for helping spark a sport that previously hadn't been available.
"A lot of kids went to wrestling camp, football camp, volleyball camp ... there wasn't flag football, so it's definitely the beginning of something that the state has never seen," Erickson said. "And we're actually part of that, which is pretty cool.
“It just ended up being that because of the girls flag football program that she just felt like she was needed and wanted and found her real point in life, honestly."
It took a mountain of courage for Lawren to share her vulnerability with family, teachers and coaches. And even more to now share it publicly.
"I'm very thankful to see that it panned out the right way," Blake said.
"You know, as a coach and a teacher, to have an impact on her ... it's awesome," Malia said. "I’m proud of her and it’s good to see that the system is still working."
Lawren is sharing her story to raise awareness among young girls and boys and teens and moms and dads. And for Native Americans.
“I feel like it’s important we carry on our traditions to the next generation, keep our cultural activities, our cultural doings, our native tongue,” Lawren thoughtfully explained.
Her turnaround was sparked almost one year ago this week.
“Sometimes we base our success on the scoreboard behind me," Erickson said sitting in his office overlooking Lockwood's gymnasium. "Although her life changed, I think my life and perspective about what my job has been has changed. I really feel like what flag football did to her, Lawren did to me in my career.
"I think in the past, I've recognized situations but have never been sat down by family members saying, 'We need help.' ... It was one that I was directed ... to help. They were searching and I knew I couldn’t let them down. It became emotional to me from that point on ... and will always, always be dear to me. And she knows that, because I tell her that … how important this is to not only her, but also to me.”
Additionally, Lawren's family members continue to affirm their love.
“My parents would remind me that I am needed … that I am valued, and that helped a lot," she said. “There’s actually stuff worth living for.”
Lawren graduated from Lockwood in May and recently signed a letter of intent to continue her education and play basketball at South Puget Sound Community College in Olypmia, Washington. A turnaround likely improbable if not for the day she cried such painful feelings to her mother.
“I hope this story helps parents to recognize (the signs) ... and don’t be afraid to get help because your child is worth it," Martha said.
