The microgrids are grid-connected, but with a combined 60 MWh of solar electricity generation, that connection serves only to provide backup power to the buildings should it be needed.

“To be able to take this step for their people and be able to achieve their energy independence and autonomy and sovereignty represents a very big step forward [for the Mesa Grande]”, said Bob Freling, executive director of SELF. “We couldn't be happier with the project, and we want to continue working with them going forward.”

The systems are also expected to displace an estimated 18 metric tons of carbon dioxide emissions each year, a critical outcome for the tribe as it seeks to balance what it takes from and gives to the earth.

“The earth will give you everything you need,” La Chusa said. “Mother earth will take care of you as long as you take care of what you’re taking out.”

Electricity access isn’t just a “global south” problem

Much of SELF’s work has been focused on the global south — developing or historically disadvantaged countries in Africa, Latin America and Asia, according to Freling, but there is a need here at home in the U.S. as well. A 2002 project with the Navajo nation was a real eye-opener, he said.

“Right here in our own proverbial backyard, you've got folks that are living in conditions similar to what I've seen in remote parts of Africa. What's wrong with this situation?” Freling asked.

Plenty… of Scarcity

The Mesa Grande Band receives less than $300,000 a year in federal funding to run the tribal government and maintain the aging homes on the reservation. The microgrids are expected to save the tribe at least $16,780 a year in electricity costs — money the tribal council can spend more on other high-priority initiatives, such as the construction of new homes.

The tribe has more than 1,000 enrolled members, many of whom left the reservation in the 1970s and 80s in search of a better education and jobs. La Chusa said there are members in Tennessee, Idaho and as far away as Italy.

But with housing available for only 20% of that population, there is no opportunity for those members — or their children and grandchildren — to return home.

“Having no homes is terrible,” La Chusa said. “You lose that connection with the Earth. That generation went out and did very well and is raising children now. But they should have the option to be able to come back to where they came from if they want to.”

The last homes the tribe built were carved out of a remote, narrow canyon in 2005. The 120-acre plot was maxed out with just 24 units. They recently acquired an additional 560-acres, where they plan to build another 1,500 housing units to address both availability and affordability issues.

Those homes, a mix of single- and multi-family units, will be powered by solar and energy storage microgrids and will be grid-connected for redundancy. La Chusa expects them to be ready for occupancy in late 2027 or early 2028.

The tribe is also looking to create a maintenance program so members can care for the growing fleet of solar, energy storage and microgrid systems across the reservation.

Hope for the future

The Mesa Grande reservation occupies just a tiny swath of lands their ancestors have occupied for more than 12,000 years. Their territory used to stretch “from the beach to the mountains,” La Chusa said, but Spanish and white settlers, and ultimately the U.S. government pushed the into the harshest part of that land over the last 200 years. Their history is fraught with oppression, racism and poverty.

But despite the challenges they’ve faced, La Chusa has great hopes for the future, in part because organizations like SELF are “pulling for us and for the community to be able to stand up and take pride in things.”

He’s noticed a real change in attitude, he said, one that’s rooted in working together.

“I think there’s hope for us yet,” he said. “I think if we have the same common goal for good, we can make it.”