Miami say land fight isn't over By J. PHILIP BLOOMER The News-Gazette June 16, 2001 CHAMPAIGN – The Miami tribe may have dropped its lawsuit, but leaders from central Illinois aren't letting down their guard. U.S. Rep. Tim Johnson said Friday that legislation authored with Speaker of the House Dennis Hastert to force the tribe to negotiate with the federal government remains on track. "I don't intend and the Speaker doesn't intend to back off our legislation," Johnson said. He also said state legislators don't see the issue dissolving. "They might take a political route. They've hired the biggest lobbyists in Washington, D.C." Johnson was referring to the tribe's recent hiring of Akin, Gump, Strauss, Hauer & Feld, a law firm and lobbying firm. Similarly, Scott Mulford, a spokesman for Illinois Attorney General Jim Ryan, said that the legal defense fund established by the Legislature remains available for the coming budget year starting July 1. The fund contains a new $100,000 for landowners named in the suit, on top of the $100,000 made available last year by the state. Mulford said the state has received about $57,000 worth of bills from the landowners' attorney and some more bills are outstanding. Champaign County has also provided $10,000 for the defense fund. The tribe's attorneys announced Thursday that they were dropping the suit they had filed last July against owners of 15 properties in 15 East Central Illinois counties. The tribe claimed that it is the rightful owner of about 2.6 million acres under the 1805 federal Treaty of Grouseland. In Thursday's announcement, lawyers for the tribe said that they were dropping their suit but not their claim. Johnson's legislation would require the tribe to take its land claim directly to the U.S. government. The bill would waive the federal government's sovereign immunity only in the case of the Miami lawsuit. The measure would also remove the individual landowners from the legal dispute, ensuring that they would keep their land, even if the tribe won. The bill has been put in the House Committee on Resources. If the courts determine the tribe has a right to compensation, "monetary damages shall be the only available remedy," according to the proposal. Johnson said his bill, which is also supported by the state's two senators, would create ideal results for Illinois by forcing the issue into the federal Court of Claims. "But I can only anticipate what they might do. You always have to assume there might be one more strike and you have to be prepared for it. At least for now, justice is served. But they've pursued about every avenue you can imagine and I wouldn't put anything beyond them." Leslie Turner, the tribe's attorney, said there will definitely be other avenues pursued. "The tribe will pursue a legal strategy that is designed to reach the merits of its land claim rather than getting sidetracked by unnecessary procedural issues concerning the state's role in litigation," she said in the announcement. "The tribe will soon take new action to zero in on the merits of its land claim and hopes ultimately to arrive at a comprehensive conclusion satisfactory to all." Rich Porter, founder of the Paxton-based Say No, Stop the Casino group, cautioned politicians and the public not to let down their guard. He believes the Miami's new lawyers recognized that the tribe's previous strategy against the landowners created an environment of ill will that they're now trying to reverse. "All they did was embitter a lot of innocent people. Now I expect them to focus on the state, which is big government and more impersonal. They can make big government look bad and talk about their heritage and culture and gain some sympathy. "We don't for a moment believe anything has changed regarding their intent to create a casino," Porter said. Royce Baier, another member of the group, said the group intends to remain vigilant in trying to educate the public and politicians on the issues surrounding the claims. The tribe's law firm is being bankrolled by New York mall and casino developer Thomas Wilmot Sr. "We can't fight Wilmot with money. He's got more than all of us. He's probably circling the Brinks trucks right now," Baier said. "But we can fight him with education." State representatives from throughout the area issued statements saying they were uniformly gratified at the suit's dismissal and uniformly wary of what the next move by the Miami's attorneys might be. "I find it ironic that the tribe states that they dismissed the suit out of fairness to the local landowners when they are the ones who filed it in the first place," said state Rep. Dale Righter, R-Mattoon. "While this is a wonderful victory for the 15 landowners, the battle may not be over," he said. "It's possible that the tribe is merely shifting the focus of their suit and will now challenge the federal or state government directly, but I hope that is not the case. I hope we have finally put this issue to rest." - - - - - - The king of welcomes By KARL SCHWEIZER The Daily Herald Co June 17, 2001 TULALIP, Wash. -- "More than 500 people came together in a fire-lit Tulalip Tribes longhouse Saturday to dance, pray and wait for Big Chief King Salmon. They weren't disappointed. Midway through the tribes' annual salmon ceremony, a young boy ran into the smoky building to proclaim the arrival of "Haik Ciaub Yo Bauch," the Big Chief himself. The crowd followed him to the beach, where fishermen in a canoe brought in Big Chief -- the first king salmon to be caught this fishing season. According to master of ceremonies Glen Gobin, the whole fishing season would depend on how Big Chief was treated. "The king comes to us from the Salmon People. He is a scout. He will go back to tell how he was received by the Tulalip," Gobin said. This fish got the royal treatment. From the boat, two men carried it ashore on a bed of ferns. A procession of dancers, drummers and the general public followed the Big Chief all the way to a large meeting hall, where he was deboned. Each person was treated to a small bite of salmon, symbolizing the first salmon of the season. At the end, the remains of the chief were put back into the water so he could go back to the Salmon People and tell them how respectfully he was received. "Hopefully, he'll send the rest of his people back here," Gobin said. Lately, there haven't been enough Salmon People to go around, according to tribal leaders. Tribal chairman Herman Williams Jr. said he expects a two- to three-day fishing season this year, thanks in large part to the tribe's fish hatchery. That's up from previous years of one day or no days of salmon fishing, but not nearly enough to sustain the tribe's fishermen, he said. "Thirty to 40 percent of our fishing boats are harvesting shellfish. The rest are sitting in dry dock," Williams said. Williams used the ceremony to call for greater cooperation between the tribes and farmers, whose efforts to preserve salmon habitat help determine how much salmon is available for tribal fishermen to harvest. "For a long time we have been at odds. But the way things are going today, we should be allies," Williams said. To make the point, he invited beef farmer Dale Reiner to be a guest of honor at the event. Reiner has received national recognition for his efforts to protect salmon habitat on his 300-acre farm in Monroe by connecting 11 ponds along the Skykomish River, restoring salmon-rearing habitat. Reiner said he was pleased to be invited and lauded the Tulalips for including other groups in their salmon-restoration plans. "My farm and my beef end at the high-water line. The Tulalips raise salmon on the other side," Reiner said. "We (farmers) plan to be here a long time. The only way is if we work together with the tribes." - - - - - - - Reservations embracing role as 'backbone' of region's defense By MARK MATTHEWS Great Falls Tribune www.greatfallstribune.com/news/stories/20010617/topstories/685299.html June 17, 2001 BROWNING, Montana -- "When afternoon sirens sound, the community of Browning bursts into action. Afoot, on bicycles or in cars, people carrying backpacks beeline for the Bureau of Indian Affairs office. "In no time, the parking lot is packed with firefighters and their families," said Andrea Gilham, the BIA's acting fire management officer here. This summer, from a population of about 8,000 on the Blackfeet Reservation, 1,040 tribal members are ready to hop onto yellow school buses headed to fires across the West. That's enough workers to fill 52 20-person crews. Other tribes are making similar preparations to dispatch Montana Indian Firefighter (MIF) crews. The business is a big one for cash-strapped reservations. Last fire season, about 3,500 MIF grossed $13.5 million in wages. Paul Chamberlin, safety fireline specialist for the Northern Rockies and a long-time smokejumper, calls the MIF crews the "backbone of our labor pool for big fires" in Montana, Wyoming, Idaho and the Dakotas. "Since the Forest Service no longer has very many work crews with people who have sawing skills and who are used to hard work, it's turned to the Native American community to fill that void," said Chamberlin, who also is an operations chief and national fire section head. Jim Stires, BIA fire director at the National Interagency Fire Center in Boise, Idaho, said that interagency fire suppression efforts "simply could not get by without the Native American crews. They are absolutely vital." During the 2000 fire season, when fire charred more than 1 million acres in Region One, the Blackfeet Agency dispatched more than 1,000 firefighters. That doesn't count scores of others who worked as overhead personnel, division superintendents, strike team leaders, or with saw crews, the Chief Mountain Hotshots or 10-person camp crews. "Fire affects everyone on the reservation, whether it be grandmothers, businessmen or teachers," said John Murray, a Blackfeet fire safety instructor, crew boss, strike team leader, division and operations section chief. "Somehow fire reaches into all their homes." The Blackfeet are not alone. Nationwide, the BIA sponsors 175 to 200 crews, plus five hotshot crews. The seven Montana tribes typically muster 75 to 80 crews. For many tribes, firefighting can be the top revenue generator. On a good year, a crew member can make up to $10,000 for a summer's work. Last summer, Blackfeet crews brought home $6.1 million in wages. Workers also raked in the dough at Montana's seven other reservations, including $2.2 million at Fort Belknap, $1.9 million at Rocky Boy's and $1.5 million at Fort Peck. But when summer rains drench the mountains, the entire reservation populace can suffer. During the slow fire season of 1997, the 800 Blackfeet who waited on standby never got to a fireline. The economic effects were felt far beyond the reservation boundaries. "All the businesses from Great Falls started calling the fire cache asking if we were boycotting them," Murray said. "We told them we just weren't getting any work." The tradition of organized Blackfeet firefighting is almost a century old, with evidence of crews established as early as 1903. In 1914, the tribe signed an agreement with the National Park Service to fight fires in adjoining Glacier National Park. Blackfeet crews continued fighting fire throughout the 1930s, but at some point the government stopped paying them. When BIA officials tried to muster crews, "some would go, and others would hide," said Murray. The business of fighting fire picked up again after World War II. In 1949, Frank Still Smoking, then 17, went to his first fire, which burned in steep country near Helena. He believes it was the same fire that killed 13 smokejumpers at Mann Gulch. "I didn't know nothing about fighting fire, but I picked it up," he said. "It was an adventure to me. And I didn't mind the hard work." The U.S. Forest Service dispatcher in Great Falls at the time, Zale Chapman, had asked the tribe to organize the crews. Some of the early crew bosses included John Murray Sr., Joe Birdrattler, Jesse Black Weasel and Frank Still Smoking. "During those days the men were used for initial attack," Murray said. In the 1960s, when the BIA officially began organizing crews, fire managers classified MIF crews as Type 2, meaning they now serve as backups, often being held off a fire until it is contained. Although not as exciting as outdigging advancing flames, the work remains hot, dirty, backbreaking and dangerous." - - - - - - The Custer connection: ‘Amazing disaster’ resonates still, especially in Big Horn County By LORNA THACKERAY Billings Gazette /www.billingsgazette.com/archive.php?section=magazine&display=rednews/ 2001/06/17/build/magazine/custer1.inc 6/17/2001 "Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer ranked among the most famous men in America when he rode off toward the Little Bighorn in 1876. “George Custer was the Michael Jackson of his day, if you look at how good he was at presenting himself,” said Hardin native Eric Halverson. “He had star power, media awareness.” And on the day when Americans were celebrating the 100th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence — a day of special meaning for a country that had just survived a horrifying civil war — news arrived in the East that Custer and five companies under his command had been wiped out. “The most famous guy in the country gets whacked in the most amazing disaster,” Halverson, director the Big Horn County Library, said. “Nobody can explain why it happened, and a lot of people didn’t want to know.” The power of the punch delivered to the nation that day still resonates here and around the world. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of professional and amateur historians have made it a life study. They fiercely debate and defend theories of how the battle was fought and why it ended as it did. Many have made intimate studies of the personalities of everyone involved. Some can tell you the color of Custer’s toothbrush. Halverson makes no claims to be an expert on the battle of June 25, 1876, but he has lived with it most of his life. He grew up only a few miles from where the Sioux and Cheyenne won their last big victory. Visitors to his parents’ motel included battlefield scholars, authors, old cavalry soldiers and history buffs who kindled Halverson’s lifelong interest. “It’s in the background radiation of Big Horn County,” he said. “The events aren’t that long ago. It’s so fresh. I know guys who knew guys who knew Custer. Joe Medicine Crow’s grandfather was a Custer scout. Descendants of the Crow scouts are all over. These people are still here. They’re my patrons. The scouts were just kids, and they lived to be old men in the 1920s and 1930s. It’s not such a big leap to back then.” When the battlefield museum was dedicated in 1952, Halverson, then only a small child, was there to see World War II hero Gen. Jonathan Wainright preside at the ceremonies. Wainright grew up at Fort Custer, which stood across the Bighorn River from Hardin and was one of three Montana forts constructed by the Army in the wake of the battle. Halverson believes that as a child he actually may have seen the last surviving soldier who was with the 7th Cavalry the day of the battle. The old gentleman had been assigned to companies severed from Custer’s immediate command. These companies fought a desperate battle only a few miles away from the main battlefield. “My seventh-grade teacher knew Gall,” he said. (Gall was one the Sioux war leaders.) “It’s all connected, and it’s all endlessly fascinating.” Halverson, who has a master’s degree in library science, worked as a civilian librarian for the modern 7th Cavalry in Korea and also worked for the Army at Fort Riley, one of the Kansas posts where Custer lived. “I’ve been told the only subject more written about in American history is Abraham Lincoln,” he said. “There are 1,200 books written on Custer and the Little Bighorn, and we have 400 of them here.” Through the today in history June 17, 1876 — Sioux and Cheyenne battle Gen. George Crook on the Rosebud, effectively sidelining the largest of three commands dispatched to trap the Indians. Crook was forced to return to his supply base near Sheridan, Wyo. Custer camped below the Tongue on the Yellowstone River. He and family members traveling with him feasted on fish caught just outside his tent on the Tongue. They had seen no sign of Sioux and Cheyenne in nearly three weeks. years, Halverson said, he has learned that people see Custer and the battle through the lens of their own times. “Part of how George Armstrong Custer is used is to project the prevailing feelings,” he said. “(Director) Arthur Penn’s ‘Little Big Man’ in the 1970s, which portrayed Custer as a lunatic, was not talking about Custer at all. It was about Vietnam. In the 1940s, ‘They Died with Their Boots On,’ with Errol Flynn as a swashbuckling Custer, was about Nazi Germany.” Halverson has learned to look at Custer in more realistic terms. “What gets lost in all the smoke is the man had a college education, was an author, had wide-ranging interests and was not necessarily some kind of lunatic,” he said. His favorite Custer story has nothing to do with the Little Bighorn, but with his actions during the Civil War. In the fall of 1864, Gen. Phil Sheridan had launched a campaign to prevent Confederate troops from finding food or shelter in the Shenandoah Valley. One of the cities in the path of Sheridan’s scorched-earth plan was Charlottesville, Va. Citizens of the town surrendered to Custer, Halverson said. “But Custer’s orders were to burn the town, and Custer chose not to do it,” he said. “Some of the buildings saved were designed by Thomas Jefferson at the University of Virginia. I thought it was an extraordinary thing that a 26-year-old kid has sense not to burn them.” Jefferson’s designs at the University of Virginia are considered by many to be among the most beautiful structures in America, Halverson said." -------------------------------------------------------------- Chief Seattle's tribe clings to its identity By SARA JEAN GREEN The Seattle Times seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/134307867_duwamish18m0.html June 18, 2001 "Theirs was the land the white people wanted most. To the Duwamish, the indigenous people of what is now Seattle and King County, this place was an ideal site for winter longhouses and summer camps, salmon weirs and canoe landings. To the newcomers, the place lent itself to a new town, with gridded streets, a mill, deep-water anchorage and, eventually, steel mills and boat docks, concrete plants and sports stadiums. The newcomers' vision won, and the Duwamish were dispersed. For them, there would be no reservation, no fishing rights, no visible landmark of their legacy. "But ... many of our people never left," says Cecile Hansen, the Duwamish tribal chairwoman. One hundred and fifty years after the Denny Party arrived and started the settlement that would become Seattle, Hansen and other Duwamish have no desire to turn back the clock. But they do seek federal recognition as a distinct tribe and want a place where their people can gather in the city that bears their chief's name. Hansen is the great-great-grandniece of Chief Seattle, and her grandmother is buried next to him on the Suquamish reservation. The Duwamish want to deal with the United States on a government-to-government basis and want to offer their members services such as education and health care - rights guaranteed in the treaty they signed. In the 1855 Treaty of Point Elliott, 81 Indian leaders representing 15 tribes ceded Puget Sound to the United States. Chief Seattle was the first to make his mark on behalf of the Suquamish and Duwamish. The Suquamish got their own reservation; the Duwamish didn't. The Duwamish were supposed to move to the Suquamish, Tulalip, Muckleshoot or Lummi reservations and live among other tribes. Many did, but others never left or soon returned to their homeland, dismayed by the restrictions of reservation life. Without a land base, the 570 or so registered Duwamish members struggle against invisibility. Their numbers are small, their blood mixed. Without recognition, "the prospects of the tribe existing and surviving are extremely limited," said James Rasmussen, a third-generation Duwamish council member. "We followed through on our end of the agreement, and we're waiting for the federal government to follow through on theirs." Federal recognition, he says, will fulfill the treaty that guaranteed signatories a government-to-government relationship with the United States. And it will ensure the Duwamish "more than a place at the table" when decisions are made about environmental and other issues, said Rasmussen, whose great-great-great-grandmother was a Duwamish elite and niece of one of Puget Sound's last medicine men. A brief recognition The Duwamish thought they were close to establishing such a relationship when, on Jan. 19, just before 9 p.m., Washington, D.C., time, tribal chairwoman Hansen got a phone call from Lee Fleming, head of the Bureau of Indian Affairs' Bureau of Acknowledgement and Research. With three hours left in the Clinton administration, Fleming told Hansen the federal government was recognizing the Duwamish tribe. But less than 48 hours later, Hansen learned President Bush suspended a batch of his predecessor's 11th-hour orders, including federal recognition of the Duwamish. "Now we're 'pending.' We're in this terrible limbo," Hansen said. The Duwamish had the misfortune of living on some of the most sought-after real estate in the region, says historian David Buerge. Their longhouses were torched, and they were banned from owning land that had been theirs for generations. The Duwamish ceded 54,700 acres of land, but it took almost 120 years and a long court battle for the United States to pay up: In 1971, about 1,000 people were each paid $64. "I bought groceries," said Hansen. "What else can you do with $64?" The Duwamish and other landless people were dropped from the list of federally recognized tribes sometime in the 1960s, Hansen said. Though Judge George Boldt ruled in 1974 that tribes who signed the Point Elliott Treaty had rights to half of the area's fish, he later ruled the Duwamish and four other groups weren't political entities and so weren't entitled to treaty rights. Tribe takes priority Hansen's story is much like the story of her tribe, a people who have adapted to survive while holding tight to their Duwamish identity. She's brusque, tough and funny. She's a Catholic and volunteers at her church. She has borne eight children and buried three. She loves Neil Diamond, boats and her rose bushes. She's a private woman who has tried to resign many times in her 26 years of leadership. The last was in 1996, when the BIA rejected Duwamish recognition. Hansen called the council together and they split up the tribe's roster, phoning every Duwamish to find out what to do next. "They overwhelmingly said, 'We want to keep fighting,' " Hansen said. "That gave me the motivation to go on. "The tribe always takes priority to everything else," she continued. "As many times as I've tried to get away from this work, I think this is the Lord's plan for me because I was just minding my own business, trying to raise my kids." She was elected tribal chairwoman in 1975. It's a lifetime position and, until this year, an unpaid one. Hansen was a young mother when the tribe began fighting for recognition in 1978. Now, she's a great-grandmother. Hansen works out of the tribe's office, most recently a rented Burien storefront next to a hair salon, less than two miles from the house where she lived as a Highline High School student in the 1950s. Her dad was a longshoreman, fisherman and woodsman who knew how to fix cars. Her mom was raised in Indian boarding schools from age 4 to 17, worked in canneries and raised five children. At age 50, she went to college and became a nurse. In the early 1970s, Hansen's late brother Manny was arrested several times for fishing in the Duwamish River, and that was the beginning of Hansen's research into her people's past. Around the same time, she met Buerge, a teacher and local historian who is writing a biography of Chief Seattle. Hansen credits him with piecing together much of what's known about Duwamish history. But there were many people along the way - historians, anthropologists, linguists and others - who helped compile necessary evidence for the tribe's application for federal recognition. Should the Bush administration approve Duwamish recognition, the decision inevitably will be appealed, likely by tribes already recognized. According to Rasmussen, the Muckleshoot have already indicated they would appeal. The Muckleshoot didn't return phone calls requesting comment. Herman Williams Jr., chairman of the board of directors for the Tulalip Tribes, said it was unlikely the Tulalips would appeal, having lost other recognition cases. The Tulalips argue that the Puget Sound Indians who moved to reservations are the ones who kept their end of the treaty bargain. "We ceded our land and moved to reservations, went through the hardships, sifted bugs out of our flour and endured the diseases. We were Indian when it wasn't popular to be Indian, while other people got to assimilate into the community," said Williams. Hansen knows if and when recognition comes through, there will be more red tape. The tribe will need to write a constitution, determine membership criteria and establish ordinances. The tribe's top priority now is getting a longhouse built on West Marginal Way, across the street from the city's new Herring House Park, site of an old Duwamish village and a 360-foot potlatch house. A couple of years ago, an anonymous group of West Seattleites gave $52,000 so the tribe could put a down payment on a small parcel of land downstream from Terminal 107 and Kellogg Island. So far, the tribe has secured two $60,000 grants from King County and $5,000 from Seattle's Department of Neighborhoods for design work and mortgage payments. Hansen estimates the tribe needs to raise $2 million more. "We need to be able to bring our people back together again, to educate our children in their culture, to welcome other tribes to the area, and most importantly, to be able to tell a story to the people who live here, to give them a sense of place and history," Rasmussen said." - - - - - - SIPI Gets High Grades in Student Retention By OLIVER UYTTEBROUCK Albuquerque Journal www.abqjournal.com/news/362739news06-18-01.htm June 18, 2001 "Tammy James-Pino makes no bones about why she commutes from Santa Ana Pueblo to attend Southwestern Indian Polytechnic Institute. "Free education," said James-Pino, a 22-year-old member of the Colville Confederated Tribes in Washington who moved to Santa Ana. Students pay no tuition to attend SIPI; only a $20 fee per trimester. "You can't beat that." And because many of her instructors also are adjunct professors at the University of New Mexico, James-Pino believes the quality of her education at SIPI is comparable to that at UNM, minus tuition and fees. Not only is SIPI a bargain for American Indians, but the community college does a better job than four-year universities at retaining Indian students, who drop out of college at an alarming rate, education officials say. The community college also serves as a stepping stone for students such as James-Pino who plan to transfer to a four-year college. James-Pino plans to transfer to Western Washington University after she receives an associate degree in business administration. The school offers 29 degree or certificate programs. Native Americans too often wash out at mainstream colleges and universities, said Ron Solimon, president of the Laguna Educational Foundation, a group dedicated to improving the odds for Laguna Pueblo youth. The foundation recently studied the retention rate of Laguna Pueblo students who attended universities from 1995-99 and found that 50 percent dropped out the first year. "The success rate of our students is pretty abysmal," Solimon said. Poor academic preparation, inadequate counseling and lack of support from home are reasons for the high dropout rate, he said. SIPI offers Indian students a path to four-year colleges, Solimon and others say. "SIPI has a key role," Solimon said. "It's a bridge, especially for kids growing up on the reservation in a traditional environment. SIPI is a place where they can get better prepared." In particular, students can bone up on remedial and college-level English, math and science, he said. "They can get caught up there and get ready to face a freshman math class," he said. A motorist could commute past SIPI's 165-acre campus for years without realizing the school exists. Nestled in the Rio Grande bosque near Coors and Paseo del Norte, SIPI still has the pastoral feel of the dairy farm that previously occupied the site. Most buildings on campus date to 1971, when the school was founded, but SIPI broke ground last month on a new $12 million science and technology building. The 68,000-square-foot building will house a semiconductor manufacturing laboratory built with technical assistance from Intel, the world's largest semiconductor manufacturer. One of two post-secondary schools funded by the federal Bureau of Indian Affairs - the other is Haskell Indian Nations University in Kansas - SIPI accepts students who are at least one-quarter American Indian or Alaska Native. Anyone with a high school diploma or a GED, the diploma received with passage of the General Educational Development test, can attend. But despite its low admission standards, SIPI retains a higher percentage of Indian students than other colleges and universities, said Carolyn Elgin, president of SIPI. The school keeps 85 percent of students from one trimester to the next, she said. "We're small," Elgin said. "We have small classes. The instructor knows who you are. You are an individual." At SIPI, the largest classes have about 30 students. By contrast, some UNM undergraduate classes might have 300 or more students. For years, Elgin has fended off attempts by other colleges to partner with SIPI, which would give non-Indians access to SIPI's campus. "We focus just on the needs of Indian students," she said. "I think that's why our retention rate is so high." Each student is assigned a councilor and an academic adviser, she said, and UNM professors provide intensive tutoring. Elgin said she also enforces a strict zero-tolerance policy that prohibits alcohol on campus. About 550 of the 700 students enrolled in the spring 2001 trimester resided on campus. The remainder either commuted or enrolled in distance-learning programs. About 70 percent of students take some remedial classes, she said. "What we do here is really focus on basic skills," Elgin said. SIPI was started in 1971 and for two decades served as a vocational-technical college. The school still offers vocational programs such as optics, graphics and culinary arts. SIPI was accredited as a community college in 1993, making credits transferable to a four-year university. Twenty-three percent of SIPI's graduates in 1999 transferred to a four-year college. But many more students transfer without earning an associate degree, Elgin said. She estimated that up to 40 percent of SIPI students transfer to four-year institutions." - - - - - - Native role in Cody show celebrated and debated Journal Star www.journalstar.com/nebraska?story_id=3558&past = Jun. 18, 2001 NORTH PLATTE, NEB. (AP) - "The role Natives played in Buffalo Bill Cody's Wild West Show was celebrated and debated during separate events at the annual Nebraskaland Days over the weekend. A handful of Lakota Sioux from the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota helped dedicate a plaque commemorating Native involvement as performers in Buffalo Bill Cody's Wild West Arena. Gov. Mike Johanns attended Saturday's unveiling in the Wild West Memorial in Cody Park. "Today was just the beginning of the long journey of reconciliation," said Mary Lee Johns, a member of the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe. "It is a starting point for our groups coming together, not just here in North Platte but in Nebraska." Johns and others debated whether Natives were exploited in the show during a separate round-table discussion at Cody's Scouts Rest Ranch. She was one of the three tribal representatives on the panel. She said the Wild West Show offered a new hope to Natives who had been forced to live on reservations. "Cody came along and showed our people an opportunity," she said. The Wild West Show "gave them an opportunity to see and experience what the new world was all about." One performer's descendant said it helped give back pride to Natives. Barbara Means Adams' grandmother participated in the Wild West Show when she was 7 years old and spoke of it often throughout her life. Adams said the show gave the men an opportunity to ride horses and carry guns, things that had been taken away when they were sent to the reservations. Some participants said work in the show helped provide for their ancestors by paying them wages. Hardships that Natives endured with the show were not ignored during the round-table discussion. "Cody began getting ill while the show was in Europe," Adams said. "There was no money, and my grandmother and many others had to work and save any money they could to get back home." ------------------------------------------ Many world languages face extinction By DARLENE SUPERVILLE Associated Press 6/19/2001 WASHINGTON (AP) - Ever hear someone speak Udihe, Eyak, or Arikapu? Odds are you never will. Among the world's 6,800 languages, half to 90 percent could be extinct by the end of the century. One reason is that half of all languages are spoken by fewer than 2,500 people each, according to the Worldwatch Institute, a private organization that monitors global trends. Languages need at least 100,000 speakers to pass from generation to generation, says UNESCO, the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization. War and genocide, fatal natural disasters, the adoption of more dominant languages such as Chinese and Russian, and government bans on language also contribute to their demise. ``In some ways it's similar to what threatens species,'' said Payal Sampat, a Worldwatch researcher who wrote about the topic for the institute's May-June magazine. The outlook for Udihe, Eyak, and Arikapu _ spoken in Siberia, Alaska and the Amazon jungle, respectively _ is particularly bleak. About 100 people speak Udihe, six speak Arikapu, and Eyak is down to one, Worldwatch says. Marie Smith, from Prince William Sound in Alaska, is thought to be the last speaker of Eyak, in which 'awa'ahdah means ``thank you.'' It's becoming a struggle, too, to find many who can say ``thank you'' in the Navajo language of the American Indian tribe (ahehee), ``hello'' in the Maori language of New Zealand (kia ora), or rattle off the proud Cornish saying: ``Me na vyn cows Sawsnak!'' (I will not speak English!). The losses ripple far beyond the affected communities. When a language dies, linguists, anthropologists and others lose rich sources of material for their work documenting a people's history, finding out what they knew and tracking their movements from region to region. And the world, linguistically speaking, becomes less diverse. In January, a catastrophic earthquake in western India killed an estimated 30,000 speakers of Kutchi, leaving about 770,000. Manx, from the Isle of Man in the Irish Sea, disappeared in 1974 with the death of its last speaker. In 1992, a Turkish farmer's passing marked the end of Ubykh, a language from the Caucasus region with the most consonants on record, 81. Eight countries account for more than half of all languages. They are, in order, Papua New Guinea, Indonesia, Nigeria, India, Mexico, Cameroon, Australia, and Brazil. That languages die isn't new; thousands are believed to have disappeared already. ``The distinguishing thing is it's happening at such an alarming rate right now,'' said Megan Crowhurst, chairwoman of the Linguistic Society of America's endangered languages committee. Linguists believe 3,400 to 6,120 languages could become extinct by 2100, a statistic grimmer than the widely used estimate of about one language death every two weeks. While a few languages, including Chinese, Greek, and Hebrew, are more than 2,000 years old, others are coming back from the dead, so to speak. In 1983, Hawaiians created the 'Aha Punana Leo organization to reintroduce their native language throughout the state, including its public schools. The language nearly became extinct when the United States banned schools from teaching students in Hawaiian after annexing the then-independent country in 1898. 'Aha Punana Leo, which means ``language nest,'' opened Hawaiian-language immersion preschools in 1984, followed by secondary schools that produced their first graduates, taught entirely in Hawaiian, in 1999. Some 7,000 to 10,000 Hawaiians currently speak their native tongue, up from fewer than 1,000 in 1983, said Luahiwa Namahoe, the organization's spokeswoman. ``We just want Hawaiian back where she belongs,'' Namahoe explained. ``If you can't speak it here, where will you speak it?'' Elsewhere, efforts are under way to revive Cornish, the language of Cornwall, England, that is believed to have died around 1777, as well as ancient Mayan languages in Mexico. Hebrew evolved in the last century from a written language into Israel's national tongue, spoken by 5 million people. Other initiatives aim to revive Welsh, Navajo, New Zealand's Maori and several languages native to Botswana. Governments can help by removing bans on languages, and children should be encouraged to speak other languages in addition to their native tongues, said Worldwatch's Sampat, who is fluent in French and Spanish and grew up speaking the Indian languages of Hindi, Marathi, Gujarati, and Kutchi. On the Net: Worldwatch Institute: Linguistic Society of America: 'Aha Punana Leo: Summer Institute of Linguistics: UNESCO: - - - - - - Wyandotte Nation sues for 1,920 Kansas acres AP Wire Service 6/19/01 KANSAS CITY, Kan. (AP) -- The Wyandotte Nation filed suit Monday seeking more than 1,920 acres of land it claims were improperly seized by the federal government after the 1855 treaty that moved the tribe to Oklahoma. The lawsuit, filed in U.S. District Court, seeks monetary damages along with return of the land along the Missouri River just northeast of downtown Kansas City, Kan. "Right now, what they're trying to do is protect their rights," said Bob Pohl, a Kansas City, Kan., attorney for the Wyandotte Nation, which is based in Wyandotte, Okla. Named as defendants are all parties currently claiming ownership of the land, Pohl said. That includes the Unified Government of Kansas City, Kan., and Wyandotte County; General Motors Corp.; and several other businesses and individuals. - - - - - - Indian athletes face hurdles on, off reservation Prejudice, fears, jealousies some of the problems holding many back Selena Roberts New York Times June 18, 2001 WHITERIVER, Ariz. _ Just below the Painted Desert in eastern Arizona, a tin smoke shop marks the entrance to the Fort Apache Reservation. With a right turn at a casino, Highway 73 begins an 18-mile plunge into the heart of the Apaches' tribal land. The road spills into a hangdog town where nearly every home, whether peeling, leaning or standing up straight against the backdrop of red-rock mountains, has a basketball goal attached to a chimney, carport or utility pole. Atop each roof, satellite dishes the size of hubcaps let members of this isolated community tap into their passion for the game. On a mountainside overlooking a sawmill, teenagers position their parents' cars around a neighborhood hoop, turn on the headlights and hoist shots well into the night. Similar scenes unfold on reservations across the country, but athletic skills developed on American Indian land are often contained within its boundaries. Although there is athletic talent on the reservations, a fact underscored by the many state basketball championships and cross-country titles Indian high school teams have won, few players have had the opportunity to break through in major college and professional sports. Indians have won less recognition in athletics than most other ethnic or racial groups in the United States. They have not found their niche among the millionaires of sport or produced role models for children whose self-esteem can become threadbare. Only 310 American Indians were among the 70,856 college athletes in Division I who received athletic aid in the 1998-99 school year, according to the most recent data compiled by the National Collegiate Athletic Association. While Indians make up about 1 percent of the country's population, according to the 2000 Census, they account for only 0.4 percent of the scholarship athletes at the major college level. The difficulties Indians have encountered in trying to reach the elite levels of sport reflect some of the larger social forces that have hampered their achievement in other realms of American life. These range from the prejudice of some outsiders to what many Indians say is an ambivalence within their culture toward individuals who seek to stand out. Beyond Jim Thorpe's achievements nearly a century ago in football, baseball and the decathlon, Billy Mills' heroics in the 10,000 meters at the 1964 Olympics and the recent arrival of Notah Begay III on the pro golf tour, Indian athletes have not made the leap to the highest level of American sport. "I keep waiting," said Bob Harrison, a member of the 1951-52 Minneapolis Lakers championship team, one of only six Indians known to have played in the National Basketball Association. "It's confusing in a way because there was Jim Thorpe, so there must be other great athletes out there. I just don't think Native Americans get the same opportunity." Major college coaches often view the talent on the reservations as a risky investment. Some coaches believe Indian teenagers cannot resist alcohol or adjust to life outside the reservation. They fear Indians will ditch their scholarships once they get homesick. Some coaches resort to stereotypes when talking anonymously about Indian athletes. Others are more open. "It seems like the reservation is their comfort zone more than it would be for an inner-city kid," said Mick Durham, who has recruited on the reservations as the head basketball coach at Montana State. "To me, I just think they get the government checks, and they stay. I don't know. I guess it's the way they're raised." This image of American Indians is distressing to the handful of players who have risen above the stigma to succeed outside the reservation, but they also concede that their culture has been an accomplice in concealing their peers, and sometimes even in undermining them. In many tribes, humility is celebrated and individuality is suppressed. Community members have sometimes tried to sabotage their own star players. Leading scorers have been threatened, and top players have been falsely accused of violating team rules. And when the spirituality that ribbons through the culture is combined with jealousy, some athletes have feared the powers of disreputable medicine men, worried that witchery is being used against them on the court. "This shouldn't have anything to do with the game, but it's like spiritual warfare," said Rick Sanchez, a high school teacher and assistant basketball coach at Alchesay High School in Whiteriver, who grew up on the Apache reservation. "It's sad. Instead of helping someone get out and make a name for themselves, we just pull them back in. It's like crabs in a bucket. They're trying to crawl out, but the one right behind it is pulling it down." Several coaches who head major college programs in states where reservations dominate the landscape explained their reluctance to explore talent there by pointing to the history of Indian players who have been awarded scholarships but failed to fulfill them. The coaches said they had also been warned over the years about the possibility of alcohol-related disciplinary problems and absences because of tribal ceremonies. The stereotypes can be stifling. Russell Archambault, a member of the 1997 Final Four team from the University of Minnesota, remembers the image some coaches had of his heritage. "I didn't even go to high school on the rez," Archambault said, "but when I was at Minnesota on a recruiting visit, one of the coaches said to one of my best friends, `Don't take him out to too many places, because you know how Indians are, they like to drink."' American Indians say it takes courage for an athlete to leave the reservation. There is a sense of security inside tribal borders, where an invisible fence of sorts seals off a host of fears: bigotry, loneliness and the condemnation by some tribe members who shun those who venture into the white man's world. For four decades, Sanchez has watched talent wither -- and even die -- inside the Apache boundaries. As a teenager, Sanchez was on almost every athletic team that Alchesay offered, but a 25-year-old team photo is particularly disturbing to him. Eleven seniors from his football team are pictured -- '70s hairdos and all -- but only five are still alive. He said most of them died from alcohol-related diseases and one committed suicide. One night, after a party, that player got into a fight with his girlfriend. Apparently out of despair, he deliberately walked in front of a speeding car. "That boy, he could have played Division I, could have done anything he wanted," Sanchez said. "But he never did, never left the reservation." Basketball players like Vegas Davis at the University of Tennessee, Jarvis Mullahon at Texas-El Paso and Lawrence and Lamoni Yazzie at the Air Force Academy have successfully tested the waters on the outside in recent years. But some of them have faced a backlash when they returned home. Kyle Goklish was a five-sport star at Alchesay High School on the Apache reservation. For the past two years, he attended Central Arizona College, a junior college near Casa Grande. He had a 3.7 grade-point average, and he placed second in the junior college national cross-country championships last fall. Goklish has signed a letter of intent to run track at the University of Arizona. While many tribe members are proud of what Goklish has accomplished, he has been exposed to the jealousy that accompanies stardom on the reservation. "It's hard when I go home for summer break," Goklish said. "Just because I go to school and I've gotten an education, they call me white boy. They say, `You're not really an Apache.' That's what hurts the most." On the reservation, religion is intertwined with daily life and celebrated with many rituals. The positive lure of the community's deep spirituality, along with the tug of family, have often brought promising athletes back to the reservation before they see if they can succeed in the outside world. Willard Tsingine, considered by many to have been the most talented Navajo basketball player, took his skills to the high-profile program at Wichita State in the late 1970s. He became a starter after his first game. But Tsingine left after a year to play with his brother Ray at unassuming Northern Arizona. The school was near home, close to the Indian fans who crammed into the gym to see the brothers play. His chance of being recognized by pro scouts was diminished significantly. "Back then, people were looking for big guards like Magic Johnson, but I was as good as John Stockton," Tsingine said. "I think as I get older, it bothers me to think why I was overlooked. I've wondered if there was prejudice there. But I've got kids, and so maybe they'll get their chance." - - - - - - Battle over Kennewick man continues By JEFF BARNARD Associated Press 6/19/2001 PORTLAND, Ore. (AP) - American Indian tribes say the skeleton known as Kennewick Man is an ancient ancestor and should be buried with respect. Anthropologists say he should be studied first. On Tuesday, U.S. Magistrate John Jelderks began hearing the latest round of arguments about what should happen to the 9,300-year-old skeleton found on the shore of the Columbia River five years ago. Eight scientists sued after the Army Corps of Engineers announced it would turn over the remains to a coalition of five Columbia Basin tribes for burial under federal law. The anthropologists would like to further study the skeleton _ one of the oldest and most complete ever found in North America _ to learn more about the region's earliest inhabitants. In September, then-U.S. Interior Secretary Bruce Babbitt ruled that Kennewick Man should be turned over to the tribes for burial. At the time, Babbitt called his decision a ``close call'' and said it was based primarily on the tribes' oral histories and the area where Kennewick Man was found. The merits of that decision, along with the scientists' claims, were expected to evaluated in the latest hearing. The bones, bearing a stone spear point in the pelvis, were discovered in July 1996 in an eroding bank of the Columbia River at Kennewick, Wash., by two college students who were wading in the shallows. Citing the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act, the Corps awarded custody a few months later to the Colville, Umatilla, Yakama, Nez Perce and Wanapum tribes. But the scientists challenged the Corps, saying the skeleton has too much to tell about how humans populated North America to be returned to the earth from which it came. The scientists' attorneys argue that the government has not shown that the skeleton is Native American, which the Interior Department defines as anyone who was within the boundaries of the present United States in 1492. Using a date alone to determine whether remains are Native American is wrong, they say. Kennewick Man could support recent theories that the continent's earliest arrivals came not by a land bridge between Russia and Alaska - a long-held theory - but by boat or some other route. Scientists figure the bones, stored in the Burke Museum in Seattle, are the remains of a hunter in his 40s with a prominent nose and heavily muscled legs whose physical characteristics more closely resemble people from Polynesia and southern Asia than local Indians. Last year in a similar case, the U.S. Bureau of Land Management decided not to award the 9,500-year-old Spirit Cave Man remains to local tribes. On the Net: Friends of the Past: Umatilla Tribes: Department of Interior: ---------------------------------------------- Early man wandered Weld’s grasslands Greeley Tribune June 17, 2001 Eleven thousand years ago, in an area that would someday become a small highway in northern Colorado, a tribe whose name we’ll never know walked through neck-high grass, carrying stone-tipped spears and hunting the mammoths. We don’t know what these people called themselves, but they would later be given the modern name Clovis because it was in that area of New Mexico where we first found evidence of their existence. They were direct ancestors of the people who migrated to North America from Asia across the frozen Bering Strait in Alaska during the Ice Age, then down through the new continent. When they reached this area, they found pine forests, tall grasses, and plentiful game, including mammoths, giant bison, camels and lions, which look much like the lions of today. This tribe of prehistoric men, women and children probably numbered about 50. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of the bands crossing North America, following the herds of mammoths and prehistoric, giant bison. But this tribe was in what would become northern Weld County. They had campsites, where they would chip away at hard stones to make their distinctive 5-inch spearpoints that would be found thousands of years later, in weathered gullies and stream beds and hillsides. They would hunt with spears, because the bow-and-arrow would not come for thousands of years. But these were thinking people; they learned the large animals would be attracted to ponds and wetlands, that the tall grass would hide them well, and they devised the throwing stick, or “atlatl,” which could heave the spear with tremendous force. To kill the mammoths and bison, they would need power. In most cases, they could only wound the huge beasts, then follow them until they died. These were small people, probably averaging 5-foot-6, with a thin and muscular build. In the summer, they wore only loincloths; in the winter, robes made from the skins of the bison. When they reached their 25th birthdays, they were considered old. At their time, this area was probably about 10 degrees cooler on average, and received double the precipitation we get today. It was a land rich in food: seeds, grains, root plants and game. In the warmer months, they would roam these plains, and in the summers, some would wander toward the mountains. But they would not make a permanent camp anywhere. These Paleo-Indians would inhabit the Americas for 5,000 years, leaving the spear points, arrowheads, campsites and what later would be called tepee rings. The tepee rings can be found today in northern Weld County, usually on hillsides, and usually only visible in the winter when the vegetation doesn’t hide them. They are rings of stones, set in place by prehistoric and more recent American Indians, to hold the bottoms of their tepees in place. When the people moved on, as nomadic tribes did, they would leave the old stones behind, in place, producing the tepee rings we find today. “We’ve found about 300 rings in the area of the Pawnee National Grassland,” said University of Northern Colorado archeology professor Bob Brunswig. “At least one dating back to the Clovis culture, about 10,500 years ago.” But over the thousands of years, the Clovis people would give way to the Folsom culture, then the area would suffer tremendous drought, and the nomadic tribes would travel in areas to the north, where the rainfall and climate would attract more game, produce more vegetation. Then, about the time Christ was born, these Indians would discover the bow and arrow. It would dramatically change their lifestyle, enabling them to kill at a longer distance, using smaller stone points, and killing the small animals after the great bison and mammoths became extinct. Those people returned to this area, living here in the Archaic Period. They developed not only the bow and arrows but also pottery, and some shards are still found here. More modern tribes, with modern language and named Apaches, hunted here in the 1500s, dominating the area for 200 years. They were driven south by the Comanches, who eventually gave way to the Arapaho, Cheyennes, Kiowas, Crow, Sioux and Pawnee. Some of these tribes were at war, fighting battles to maintain territory, or wars sparked with tribal hatred that dated back several generations. Some alliances were formed: the Cheyenne and the Arapaho, the Ute and Comanche. But the Pawnees were enemies of every tribe. Then, in the early 1800s, a new threat to the Indians came west, pursuing the beaver along the rivers and into the mountains. These were white men, the early trappers. While most of them got along with the Indians, the trappers laid the trail for the gold-seekers of the 1850s, and the huge migration of more whites a few years later. There would be massacres on both sides, Indians killing the white settlers, the soldiers plundering Indian campsites. There would be governmental orders to drive the Indians from the territory of Colorado. Treaties would be signed and broken. It wouldn’t be long before the Indians were forced from the plains, driven to the north or south, or transported thousands of miles away onto reservations. By 1870, when the town of Greeley was founded to the south of here, most of the Indians were gone. Colo. 14, which divides the upper third of Weld County, is the main artery across the grasslands. This is the fourth in an occasional series of stories about the highway, its history, wildlife and people. Information for this story was provided by the Greeley Municipal Museums, historians Peggy Ford and Carol Shwayder, and the books “Native Americans of the West” and “Indians of the Plains.” - - - - - - Indian gaming bill planned By Cheyenne Hopkins The Oklahoman 2001-06-20 WASHINGTON — New legislation introduced Tuesday proposes to add more regulation to Indian gaming facilities and also measure American Indians’ quality of life. Rep. Christopher Shays, R-Conn., introduced the legislation at a press conference, and said it would help tribes and states. “Indian gaming facilities and non-Indian financial backers involved with many of them are not held accountable by the federal government, and states are currently left out of the process altogether,” Shays said. “Our legislation aims to improve the role of states in approving new gaming operations affecting their residents and strengthens the federal regulations governing tribal gambling.” The legislation would give both a state’s legislature and governor control over the expansion of tribal gaming; establish an advisory committee to create minimum standards for regulating tribal gambling operations; and create a commission to study the government’s policy toward American Indians. In most states, only the governor has input into Indian gaming facilities. Shays said expanding authority to state legislatures would not violate tribes’ sovereign immunity. It’s unclear how the gaming aspects of the legislation would affect Oklahoma’s 48 tribal facilities. The bill targets Class III Indian gaming facilities, which offer casino games such as roulette, craps, poker and slot machines. Class III facilities are illegal in Oklahoma. Oklahoma has Class II gaming, which includes bingo and pull tabs. However, some federal authorities said they believe there is Class III gambling offered at certain Indian gaming halls in Oklahoma. The advisory committee included in the legislation would consist of eight members who would give recommendations for minimum federal standards for Indian gambling facilities. The National Indian Gaming Commission is the federal agency that regulates Indian gaming operations. Shay said the agency does not have the manpower to monitor all Indian gaming centers. The commission has an $8 million annual budget and a staff of 70 to regulate more than 240 gaming operations. By comparison, the commission regulating 12 Atlantic City casinos spends $58 million a year and has a staff of 800. Wolf said this committee and the legislature involvement would help tribes threatened by the influence of the gambling industry and make gaming more fair for tribes. “Our legislation takes the gambling industry out of the equation by requiring that a state — both the governor and legislature — approve of any new gambling facility,” Wolf said. Beyond gaming provisions, the bill calls for a broad study of American Indian life. Rep. Frank Wolf, R-Va., said he didn’t think Indian gaming was improving the lives of tribal members as it was intended. “Nearly 80 percent of Native Americans don’t receive anything from gambling revenues,” Wolf said. “Most tribes, living in areas that are not economically viable for a casino, continue to live in awful poverty, plagued by disease, infant mortality, unemployment and a lack of educational opportunities.” The legislation would establish a 13-member commission to ensure that Indian gaming money is used correctly by helping tribal members. It would study the tribes’ quality of life in areas of health, education, economic development, housing and transportation infrastructure. - - - - - - Justices give tribe lake win Supreme Court upholds Indians' claim to lower third of Lake Coeur d'Alene Julia Silverman Spokesman-Review June 19, 2001 Coeur d'Alene _ A divided U.S. Supreme Court awarded ownership of a portion of Lake Coeur d'Alene to the Coeur d'Alene Indians on Monday, ending more than a century of dispute between Idaho and the tribe. The 5-4 decision upholds lower court rulings that gave the tribe ultimate authority over boating, fishing, environmental stewardship and marine patrols on the southern third of the lake and the St. Joe River upstream to St. Maries. The decision is a sweeping victory for the tribe, which considers the lake the physical and cultural centerpiece of its heritage. "It makes us stand a little taller," Tribal Chairman Ernie Stensgar said. "The lake is the heartland of our country. It was inconceivable to anyone of Coeur d'Alene descent to think that our ancestors would give away our heartland." Attorneys for both sides said Monday's decision was an unexpected victory for the tribe and the U.S. Justice Department, which had brought the case against the state. The decision leaves Idaho unable "to govern people (on that part of the lake) and to ensure protection of fish and wildlife and economic interests," said Clive Strong, deputy attorney general and chief of the Natural Resources Division. "The state's interest in this case was making sure that this crown jewel was protected for the benefit of the citizens of the state of Idaho as a whole." In the long run, the decision might be a springboard for the tribe to file suit seeking ownership of the entire lake, which tribal members believe belongs to them. Stensgar said Monday that Tribal Council members will discuss the issue after July 4. That case may prove more difficult: The federal government, which holds the lake in trust for the Coeur d'Alenes, has indicated that it would not be a partner in such a lawsuit because it believes President Ulysses Grant in 1873 set aside only the lower portion of the lake. The more immediate impact could be on the mining lawsuit under way in U.S. District Court in Boise, which pits the tribe and the federal government against two mining companies. At issue is who will pay for cleaning up a century's worth of mining pollution in the Coeur d'Alene River Basin. "The U.S. Supreme Court's holding that the tribe owns the southern portion of the lake is crucial to the cleanup case," said Ray Givens, the attorney who argued the lake case for the tribe. "A government can sue for natural resource damages regarding lands and waters which it owns. The tribe owns the lake, and can therefore sue the mining companies for any damage their pollution has caused." Holly Houston, a spokeswoman for Hecla and Asarco, the two mining companies left in the lawsuit, said that the industry, "does not believe that the Supreme Court decision has any bearing on our case. The way the Supreme Court ruled, it is status quo -- it does not change anything from the way it has been." The court's decision turned on the question of intent. The majority opinion, written by Justice David Souter, agreed with the tribe's contention that when Idaho became a state in 1890, Congress recognized the executive branches' intention to designate the southern part of the lake, including its beds and banks, as part of the reservation. " (Idaho's) argument simply ignores the evidence that Congress did know that the reservation included submerged lands, and that it authorized the reservation's modification solely by agreement," Souter said. The dissent, written by Chief Justice William Rehnquist, says arguing that control of all navigable waters and submerged lands not expressly set aside by Congress passes to states upon admission to the union. "The existence of such intent on the part of the Executive branch is simply not enough to defeat an incoming state's title to submerged lands within its borders," Rehnquist wrote. "It is therefore improper for the Court to look to events after Idaho's admission in order to discern whether Congress had months or years previously intended to divest the entering State of its submerged lands." Rehnquist was joined in his dissent by Justices Clarence Thomas, Antonin Scalia and Anthony Kennedy. Souter was joined by Justices Stephen Breyer, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, John Paul Stevens, and Sandra Day O'Connor, whom both sides had identified as the case's swing voter. The practical effects of the decision on lake users won't be seen right away. The tribe has managed the lower third of the lake since 1998, when U.S. District Judge Edward Lodge awarded custody to the tribe. Tribal police patrols on the lake are already in place, and anglers must get tribal fishing permits. Similar permit regulations apply to dock-builders and float home-owners. Boaters with valid Idaho licenses are given privileges on the tribal portion of the lake for one year. Environmental projects, including one to restore cutthroat trout habitat, are under the direction of the tribe's natural resources division. But the Supreme Court's decision solidifies the tribe's position on the lake, residents and business owners around the lake said Monday. "I don't know what to say about it, whether it is good or bad," said Ernie Crossley, the general manager of the Conkling Park Marina in Worley. "People are worried that they will say, `OK, this is ours,' and jerk it out from under everybody. But the tribal officers that patrol the lake are actually more polite than the ones from Kootenai County or Benewah County. They don't harass you." Although 10 other states filed friend of the court briefs siding with Idaho, the case is seen as an affirmation of tribal sovereignty and an erosion of states' rights, lawyers said. John Carter, a tribal attorney for the Confederated Kootenai and Salish tribes in Montana, said the case was closely watched by American Indians. The Kootenai and Salish successfully fought a similar court battle over ownership of Flathead Lake. And it may inspire other tribes with similar submerged lands issues to take their cases to courts, said Robert Anderson, director of the Native American Law Center at the University of Washington. Lt. Gov. Jack Riggs, a Coeur d'Alene physician who is serving as acting governor this week while Gov. Dirk Kempthorne leads a Council of State Governments trip to Europe, said the court's decision was not entirely unexpected. "Clearly I have a great deal of respect for the U.S. Supreme Court, but on a 5-4 decision, obviously this could not be called clear-cut. But we have a system and I respect the system," Riggs said. "Although I supported the appeal, I, in some ways, am not surprised at this decision because my interpretation is that the tribal boundaries were set before statehood." Stensgar got word of the decision while in Spokane to discuss plans for the National Congress of American Indians, which will be held in the city in November. The announcement prompted an ovation for the Coeur d'Alene Tribe from other tribal delegates at the planning session. "We are good stewards," Stensgar said later. "The lake will be protected in the best interests of everyone." - - - - - - Makah butcher beached whale Seattle Post-Intelligencer seattlep-i.nwsource.com/local/28213_tl220.shtml June 20, 2001 "Members of the Makah Indian tribe have butchered a gray whale found on a beach in Olympic National Park. Park officials say the 20-foot whale was found June 10 by hikers on a beach about six miles south of Cape Alava. Rangers found the whale barely alive and suffering from large bite marks, apparently from a marine predator. A National Marine Fisheries Service specialist hiked in to take tissue samples, and found tribal members butchering the carcass. The area is within the tribe's "usual and accustomed area" for hunting under its 1855 treaty with the government, park officials said." -------------------------------------------------- Iroquois law and U.S. founders By DAVID D. HASKELL UPI News www.vny.com/cf/News/upidetail.cfm?QID=195364 19 June 2001 BOSTON, June 19 (UPI) -- "The U.S. Declaration of Independence and Constitution, the pillars of American democracy, are deeply rooted in laws practiced by the Iroquois League of Indian nations long before Europeans arrived on this continent, according to numerous scholars. This theory of Indian influence in the formation of the most cherished documents in U.S. history, however, is also strongly opposed by others who insist the building blocks of American democracy were forged by European theorists. The likely truth is that American Revolutionary figures such as Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson were inspired by both when they helped found the United States in 1776, and that the new nation is a creature of "all its peoples." One undeniable fact is that the Iroquois practiced their own form of egalitarian government for hundreds of years before the Founding Fathers wrote the Declaration of Independence and Constitution. The Iroquois Great Law of Peace, believed by some to have originated in the 1400s or perhaps even earlier, includes freedom of speech, freedom of religion and thought, the right of women to participate in government, and provides for the separation of power in government and checks and balances within government. Close parallels can be found in the Great Law to the executive, legislative and judiciary branches of government as described in the U.S. Constitution. Implicit in the centuries-old Iroquois political philosophy is commitment to the highest principles of individual liberty and justice. As with most academic questions, one side of the debate is not likely to sway the other, but there is growing acceptance of the belief that the Iroquois Confederacy and its Great Law played a major role in the birth of American democracy. "I would say so," said Prof. Bruce E. Johansen of the University of Nebraska-Omaha, who has authored books on the influence theory since he first became aware of it in the 1970s. Johansen told United Press International he based his conclusion on some 1,300 references to the subject he has collected from newspapers, magazines, books and educational outlines over the past 30 years. "Based on that I think it's become more acceptable day by day, person by person and inch by inch," Johansen said. "All the reactions are interesting" and some have been outright "nasty." "Ever since the '70s when I started, it's a lot more acceptable now than earlier. It's been an interesting debate," Johansen said. "I didn't expect it to move things as it has. When I started out it was just an interesting idea. I just took the first step, and then the next step, and pretty soon things started to pop." Until a young Indian woman told him how the Iroquois had strongly influenced the evolution of American democracy, Johansen said he, like others educated in American history, believed the form of government developed in the United States had been "invented by white men in powdered wigs." Despite the growing body of scholarly evidence supporting the Iroquois influence theory, there are still strong feelings against it, Johansen said. "There's still a school of thought that takes it that this didn't happen, that we made it up. But I think the overall evidence is that it seems to be acceptable by most of us." He said some critics may have softened somewhat in the face of the evidence, but "some of the hardest to change are your most ardent opponents." An Internet search turned up quotes attributed to some apparent opponents. Commentator George Will called the influence theory "fiction," conservative politician Patrick Buchanan labeled it "idiocy," and talk-show host Rush Limbaugh called Johansen's intellectual life's work "worse than historical revisionism. It's more than the distortion of facts. It's the elimination of facts." Historian, conservative author and rejected U.S. Supreme Court nominee Robert H. Bork, in his book, "Slouching Toward Gomorrah: Modern Liberalism and American Decline," labeled the concept "nonsensical." Bork complained that New York State has made it official educational doctrine that the U.S. Constitution was heavily influenced by the political arrangements of the Iroquois Confederacy. "The official promulgation of this idea was not due to any research that disclosed its truth," Bork wrote. "Nor has any other state adopted this nonsensical idea. New York adopted it because the Iroquois mounted an intensive lobbying campaign directed at the State Department of Education." Bork called it "a detrimental forcing of a false notion by one culture on another." In his introduction to "Debating Democracy: Native American Legacy of Freedom, "Johansen said Bork's absolute denial "is but one of many examples of the subject's ability to rub raw nerves ... " "The notion that American Indian political systems have contributed to our present-day notions of these (democratic) concepts has caused intense controversy," Johansen wrote. He said many in the academic world had staked everything on a belief that the Iroquois had nothing to do with the evolution of democracy in America. Scholars who back the influence theory base their conclusions on the published and unpublished papers of Founding Fathers Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson, other historical documents, Iroquois oral histories and the Great Law. These researchers say that presents a plausible argument that the Iroquois influenced the ideological birth of the United States. The Iroquois Confederacy was the premier Indian military power in eastern North America in the generations before the arrival of the Europeans and at the time of the American Revolution. Their homelands were situated mostly in what is now New York State, between the rival French in the St. Lawrence River Valley and the English along the East Coast. European immigrants had no idea that the Iroquois already had a working democratic social and political system, a federal union of five Indian nations, the Mohawk, Cayuga, Seneca, Oneida and Onondaga. The Tuscarora later joined the confederacy, creating the League of Six Nations. The Iroquois Confederacy believed in popular participation and natural rights as expressed through its constitution, The Great Law of Peace, which upheld freedom of expression in political and religious matters, forbid the unauthorized entry of homes, and provided for political participation by women. All are democratic tendencies familiar in today's America. The Great Law of Peace, as passed down in oral histories and originally recorded on wampum belts, was translated into English circa 1880. The Iroquois referred to themselves as the "Hodinoshone", or "People of the Long House." The name comes from the manner in which the Iroquois lived. Each Iroquois community had several long, bark-covered communal houses, which had both tribal and political significance. The families lived in semiprivate compartments along their inner sides while central areas were used for social and political gatherings. The confederacy's common council, with elected delegates, met in such places. Each delegate, a chief, represented both a tribe and one of the clans within a tribe. The women of the clan could replace the delegate if he lost the confidence of the people or for misconduct. There was no single head of the league, and it was up to the league council to make decisions. It was through their combined strength that Iroquois League was able to dominate its neighbors. The symbol of their unity was a wampum belt known now as "Hiawatha's Belt," after the leader who helped bring about the confederacy. The symbol is more than 400 years old and is the oldest of all American Indian flags. Anthropologist Lewis Henry Morgan wrote in 1851 that the six-nation Iroquois achieved a "remarkable civil organization" similar in many ways to the union established by the rebellious British colonies. Morgan wrote that the Iroquois "maximized individual freedom while seeking to minimize excess governmental interference in peoples' lives." "The people of the Longhouse commanded to our forefathers a union of colonies similar to their own as early as 1755," Morgan wrote. He believed the Iroquois Confederacy contained "the germ of modern parliament, congress, and legislature." The interchange of social and political ideas between the European and Indian cultures was more widespread than commonly recognized. The Europeans and Indians were more often at peace than at war, although that's hard to tell from most histories. Some scholars say that interchange left a definite imprint on Franklin, Jefferson and others, who saw that the Indians had what appeared to be an alternative to European-style monarchal tyranny and class-based society. The English sought alliances with the Iroquois through treaty councils. Franklin was first drawn to these councils as a printer, than as a colonial envoy. Scholars said Franklin's experience with the Iroquois was woven into his development of revolutionary theory and his advocacy of colonial union on a federal model, very similar to the Iroquois system. Franklin wrote, "It would be strange if ignorant savages could execute a union that persisted ages and appears indissoluble; yet like union is impractical for 12 colonies to whom it is more necessary and advantageous." George Washington, after a visit to the Iroquois, expressed "great excitement" over the Iroquois "two houses and Grand Council." In his book, "Forgotten Founders: Benjamin Franklin, the Iroquois, and the Rationale for the American Revolution," Johansen said that by showing that American Indians played a major role in shaping the ideas of Franklin and the American Revolution, he did not mean to "demean or denigrate European influences." He said he it was not his intention to subtract from the existing record, but to add an indigenous aspect, to show how America has been a creature of "all its peoples." Johansen also said his work was meant to "demolish what remains of stereotypical assumptions that American Indians were somehow too simpleminded to engage in effective social and political organization." John C. Mohawk and Oren R. Lyons wrote in the Introduction to "Exiled in the Land of the Free: Democracy, Indian Nations, and the U.S. Constitution," in 1992, that, "One of the arguments against Indian influence on the thinking of the American colonists has been that the colonists feared and hated Indians, referred to them as 'savages,' and therefore would never have adopted or been influenced by Indian thinking." That is "historically inaccurate," the authors wrote. In the preface to "Exiled," Hawaii Sen. Daniel K. Inouye said, "few Americans are aware that the fundamental structure of our democratic form of government has its origins in the Iroquois Confederacy ... This is a chapter of history we must all have the opportunity to learn." Gettysburg College historian Donald A. Grinde Jr. published the first extensive exploration of Iroquois influence on the Constitution in his 1977 book, "The Iroquois and the Founding of the American Nation." He offered evidence that Jefferson adopted the specific symbols of the man legend said founded the confederacy, a man known as Peacemaker. The Tree of Peace became the Tree of Liberty and the Eagle, clutching 13 arrows, became the symbol of the new American government, even though Franklin would have preferred the turkey. The Iroquois League remains alive today as North America's last surviving sovereign Indian nation. Its capital is in Onondaga County just south of Syracuse in central New York. The 35-square-mile island of still sovereign native soil is inhabited by the survivors of the once great Iroquois Confederacy. The Onondagas still host meetings of the Grand Council of Iroquois government. - - - - - - Indian Gaming Produces Winning Numbers for Arizona PRNewswire June 21, 2001 PHOENIX, -- Arizona Indian casinos generate $40 million in state and local taxes from casino vendors and more than $28 million in federal and state payroll taxes in 2000 according to an economic study by Udall Center for Studies in Public Policy at the University of Arizona. The study was commissioned by the Arizona Indian Gaming Association to assess the impact on the Arizona economy by Indian casinos. "Indian gaming is a large industry making its 9,324 employees comparable, in employment terms, to the Arizona mining sector which employs 9,700 workers," said Stephen Cornell, Director of the Udall Center. "These jobs go to both Indian and non-Indians." The report reveals that, in the spring of 2001, 57% of all casino and tribal gaming jobs were held by non- Indians. "The multiplier effects of Indian gaming through the Arizona economy are substantial," said Cornell. "We estimate that in 2000 at least 14,784 in- state jobs were attributed to Indian casino operations, and those operations directly and indirectly generated at least $468 million economic activity within the State. We also found that Arizona Indian casinos spent $254 million on goods and services in 2000. The majority of these dollars were spent within the state of Arizona." The Udall Center based its findings on studying three categories of casino spending: vendor outlays, employment and taxation. The data was collected from thirteen Arizona Indian gaming tribes. "This study shows that Indian gaming is having a substantial, positive impact on the Arizona economy," said David LaSarte, Executive Director of the Arizona Indian Gaming Association. "But in addition to helping the state and local governments, gaming revenues directly help tribal governments. Like the Arizona Lottery, which sends its profits to the state coffers to provide state services, Indian gaming dollars go directly to tribal governments. These venues are 100% taxed by tribal governments who use them to provide essential services for tribal members." For the complete report, "An Analysis of the Economic Impacts of Indian Gaming in Arizona," call the Arizona Indian Gaming Association at 602-258-4822. - - - - - - New York cuts deal with Seneca tribe to open casinos AP 6/21/2001 Niagara Falls, New York- -- Casino gambling may be coming to the Niagara Falls-Buffalo area of New York state. Governor George Pataki has announced an agreement with the Seneca Indian Nation to open two casinos, one in Buffalo and one in the Niagara Falls Convention Center. The Niagara Falls casino should be open by April 2002, pending approval by the state Legislature and the signing a compact between the state and the tribe. The Buffalo casino is expected to open by the end of next year. The terms of the 14-year agreement call for the state to get a portion of the proceeds from electronic gaming devices within the casinos. Pataki says he'll propose legislation that authorizes him to enter into the compact. -------------------------------------------------- Victories and struggles in tribal education The Seattle Times Company 06-22-2001 The Muckleshoot Tribe has reason to celebrate. A brother and sister are the first students to graduate from the tribe's school. This is good news on a subject that could use some good news. It also coincides with recent figures that show more Indian students staying in high school and going on to college. Still, the graduation rates for Native-American students remains low. One reason is because there is much these students must first overcome. Many are dealing with learning disabilities, poverty, a cycle of low expectations from non-Indian teachers, poorly educated parents and broken families. The effects of alcoholism run rampant in tribal communities. Native-American families are often distrustful of government-run schools and not always in agreement that academic success leads to success on the reservation. Thus, nearly half of all Native-American students eventually leave school. In Washington state, the high-school dropout rate varies between 40 and 90 percent, depending on the tribe. Nationally, only about 52 percent finish high school. The responses to this chronic problem have been half-hearted. President Clinton's final budget request included the largest increase ever for Indian education, economic and social programs - $1.2 billion - which would put funding at $9.4 billion in 2001. What emerged from Congress was a few extra dollars. Many fellowships and scholarships targeting Indian college students have disappeared over the years. Per-pupil funding for reservation schools run by the Bureau of Indian Affairs has remained stagnant. An economic renaissance among some tribes, fueled by the success of casinos, has led many tribes to take control of their reservation schools. Among this state's 29 tribes, many are struggling to do that. They should be supported in this effort. The route to improving education for Indian children starts with an example like that of the Muckleshoots. The kindergarten-through-12th-grade school is run by the Bureau of Indian Affairs. But in every other way it is purely a Muckleshoot enterprise. The curriculum includes various cultural programs such as the tribe's native language, Whulshootseed, and Native-American art - a curriculum that keeps Indian children engaged. But most of the state's 27,505 American Indian students attend public schools. The task turns to how to improve their performance and keep them interested in school. At the federal level, there should be a revival of the White House Conference on Indian Education that was held in the mid-1990s. While little emerged legislatively from that conference, it placed Indian education on the radar screen of lawmakers and school administrators. Hire more Native-American teachers. The Education Department has created an Indian Teacher Corps to train 1,000 Indian teachers. That goal should be just the beginning. Otherwise, when lawmakers and educators talk about the problems facing the nation's 600,000 American Indian children and suggest another report, or a study, tribal members will just nod their heads. As the Muckleshoot Tribe shows, Native Americans know how to educate their own. They ought to be given the tools to do just that. - - - - Donation kicks museum fund drive into high gear By JACK MONEY The Oklahoman db.oklahoman.com/cgi-bin/show_article?ID=705870&pic=none&TP=getarticle 2001-06-21 "Oklahoma's Native American Cultural and Educational Authority kicked off its fund-raising drive for a planned $150 million museum Wednesday by announcing a lead donation from Phillips Petroleum Co. "It's time for our native people to tell their own story," said Sen. Kelly Haney, D-Seminole, announcing the donation. He described the planned museum as a first-class effort to tell that story and said the $100,000 donation would be used as seed money to raise other private donations for the project. The senator said the authority recently hired a professional fund-raising organization to find more private money for the job, and authority board members continue working with Congress and Oklahoma's Legislature to get additional public money. The authority would like to raise $50 million from private sources. The center, planned for the south bank of the North Canadian River near Eastern Avenue, includes a 125,000-square-foot museum and a 75,000-square-foot marketplace. Designers intend for the center to promote American Indians' cultures using language, dance and arts. So far, more than $12 million has been raised from government sources, officials said. Phillips' donation was presented by H.J. Reed, the company's regional governmental relations director. "We call this Phillips country, and we are proud to be a part of this effort," said Reed. - - - - - - Santee Sioux leaders may face jail BY MARK THIESSEN The Associated Press www.journalstar.com/nebraska?story_id=3597&past = Jun. 22, 2001 OMAHA - "The Santee Sioux Tribal Council could face jail time after a federal appeals court ruled Thursday that it has been in contempt of court for refusing to close the tribe's illegal casino. The 8th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals' ruling opens the door for federal prosecutors to pursue jail time for the tribal council's 11 members after they defied court orders to end their gambling operation. U.S. Attorney Mike Heavican said he would not rule out jail time as an option as federal and state officials try to shut down the Ohiya Casino on the tribe's reservation in northeast Nebraska. "That doesn't really push my panic button," said Council President Roger Trudell, who added that he does not anticipate serving jail time. The tribe does not believe it is violating the court's orders because it recently replaced the casino's slot machines, which the state considers illegal, with pull-tab games played elsewhere in the state. "I think we're out of that situation. We're not defying anyone's order," Trudell said. "We've been in compliance since May 15." Tribal attorney Conly Schulte said the appeals court's ruling is moot given the casino's game changes. Schulte last week asked the U.S. District Court in Omaha to lift its contempt order against the tribe and daily fines of $6,000. Tribal council members had previously argued they could not close the casino after tribal members voted Aug. 3, 1999, to keep it open. "The council members cannot hide behind a spurious tribal referendum because the Tribe cannot pass such a referendum in contravention of federal law," the appeals court said in its opinion Thursday. The court said the council attempted to cloak its actions with the "cape of the tribal referendum" while their meeting minutes show it had no intention of complying with the court order to shut the casino down. The tribe suffered a second defeat in Thursday's ruling. The appeals court said the government upheld a previous ruling that federal officials could seize funds from tribal accounts to satisfy the court fines levied against the tribe. Federal authorities last year froze $1.8 million in tribal assets to satisfy the fines, but later released $1.3 million of that." - - - - - - HOUSE APPROPRIATORS, FED UP WITH INTERIOR’S DELAYS, SIGNAL END OF PATIENCE ON TRUST FUND ACCOUNTING Press Release www.indiantrust.com/releases.cfm?press_id=26 June 22, 2001 Contact: Philip Smith (202-661-6350) “No Interest” in Funding a Department Plan That Won’t Work, Panel Says WASHINGTON, D.C. – The House Appropriations Committee, irked by the lack of a plan to account for billions in missing Indian trust funds and concerned by $614 million in spending for trust reform without visible results, has issued a blunt warning to Interior Department officials that its patience has worn thin. In a report attached to Interior’s budget bill for 2002, frustrated House members said they have been waiting since last fall to see Interior’s plans to comply with a federal judge’s order that the department give Indian trust beneficiaries a complete historical accounting of billions in missing revenues from Indian-owned lands. Appropriators strongly urged Interior last fall to settle the Indians’ class action litigation (Cobell v. Norton) rather than spend tens of millions of dollars trying to reconcile the accounts. Interior has admitted in court that it has lost or destroyed most of the trust records, which date as far back as 1887. The report said that a recent federal appeals court ruling upholding the required historical accounting “places additional pressure” on Interior to come up with a credible plan or settle the case. “The Committee remains very concerned over the escalating costs associated with the Cobell v. Norton litigation,” the report said, adding that Congress has appropriated more than $31 million for the case, of which Interior says it spent $17 million trying to dig up records just for the five Indian individuals who represent 500,000 individual Indian trust beneficiaries in the class action lawsuit. “The Committee has no interest in appropriating additional resources for litigation support when these resources come at the expense of on-the-ground Indian programs designed to promote the well-being of the Indian and Alaska Native populations,” the report said. “Therefore, the Committee reiterates its position that it will not appropriate hundreds of millions of dollars for an historical accounting that provides funds for a protracted reconciliation process whose outcome is unlikely to be successful.” The Cobell plaintiffs have repeatedly pointed out that a so-called statistical sampling plan – floated by former Interior secretary Bruce Babbitt in the closing days of the Clinton administration and embraced earlier this year by Interior Secretary Gale Norton – will cost millions and has no chance of success because most of the Indian trust records no longer exist and Interior’s trust databases are highly unreliable. Since 1996, Congress has appropriated $610 million for ineffective trust reform efforts at Interior, including new data management systems and attempts to clean up data and improve records management and real estate services. A senior Bureau of Indian Affairs official revealed in February that trust reform is “imploding” and based on “wishful thinking and rosy scenarios.” Shortly afterward, U.S. District Judge Royce C. Lamberth installed a Court Monitor at Interior to report to the court on the true state of trust reform and the credibility of Interior’s statements about its progress. The Interior appropriations bill, approved June 13, is awaiting action by the full House. - - - - - - KBC Staff, Correspondents Win Journalism Excellence Awards KBC, NPR Provide Radio Training to Native Conference Goers Koahnic Broadcast Corporation June 21, 2001 Contact: Cassandra Shumate 907.258.8890 Anchorage - Koahnic Broadcast Corporation staff and news correspondents took top awards in every Native radio category, one award in Non-Native radio, and one award in print last week at the 17th Annual Native American Journalists Association (NAJA) Convention in Buffalo, NY. One of the evening's biggest radio winners was National Native News Host and Producer Bernadette Chato, a member of the Navajo Nation, who was awarded First Place for Best Radio News Story and Honorable Mention for Best Overall Radio News Reporting for her work on the daily news program. NNN South Dakota Correspondent Brian Bull of the Nez Perce Tribe just edged Chato out of the overall radio news reporting award. Jay Rosenstein, NNN correspondent in Champaign, IL, was awarded First Place in the Best Radio News Story by a Non-Native reporter for his work with NNN. In addition, National Native News was recognized with an Honorable Mention Award for Best Ongoing Radio Program. National Native News is heard every weekday on 230 public and tribal radio stations across the U.S. and Canada. NNN is on the web at www.nativenews.net . Native America Calling Producer Wishelle Banks was awarded a First Place in Best Feature Writing for publications published one to six times per year for her work featured in the magazine Indian Cinema Entertainment. Banks became the producer of Native America Calling at the end of March this year. Native America Calling is the country's electronic talking circle -- a daily call-in program linking radio listeners and guests together in one conversation about Native issues and news. It is heard by more than 50,000 listeners each week. "Our family of staff and news correspondents work extremely hard to make sure public radio listeners have the best Native-produced news and information programming available," said KBC President and CEO Jaclyn Sallee. "I am thrilled to see Bernadette, Brian, Jay and Wishelle receive this recognition for their work." Also at last week's conference, KBC and National Public Radio were sponsors of the NAJA Radio Training Project. Chato was the project's lead trainer with mentors coming from the top ranks of NPR and WGBH in Boston. The Native students who participated in the training produced one five-minute newscast and several radio features that can be heard via real audio on KBC's website www.knba.org . Koahnic Broadcast Corporation, one of the country's leading national Native media enterprises, operates three divisions: KNBA-FM 90.3, the country's only urban, Native-controlled public radio station; national radio programming, including National Native News, Earthsongs, and Native America Calling; and the KBC Training Center. Its corporate offices are in Anchorage, Alaska. -------------------------------------------- Court says Miami Nation not a tribe The government does not have to recognize the Indiana group. By AP 6/23/01 SOUTH BEND, Ind. (AP) -- The Miami Nation of Indians of Indiana is not a tribe and the federal government does not have to recognize it, a federal appeals court has ruled. "Probably by 1940 and certainly by 1992, the Miami Nation had ceased to be a tribe in any reasonable sense," a three-judge panel of the 7th U.S. Court of Appeals said in a ruling issued June 15. "It had no structure. It was a group of people united by nothing more than common descent, with no territory, no significant governance and only the loosest of social ties." Arlinda Locklear, a Jefferson, Md., attorney representing the Miami Nation, said Friday the group plans to appeal. "We think the decision is wrong," she said. "We think the decision is based in large part to a misrepresentation of facts to the court by the government." An 1840 federal treaty called for the removal of the Miamis from Indiana. Soldiers were sent to force them out in 1846, and they were moved to Kansas and then to Oklahoma. Today, Miami, Okla., is the seat of the Miami Indians of Oklahoma, which has federal recognition. The court said about 4,700 Indiana Miamis are left. Only a third of those live in five contiguous counties in Indiana, and they don't live in a group. They constitute less than 0.05 percent of the counties' population, the court said. The appeal court ruled that "Indian nations, like foreign nations, can disappear over time." The Interior Department ruled in 1992 that the Miamis were not a tribe, saying the group didn't live in a distinct community and had not maintained authority over it members. - - - - - - - Bones Found in Vault May Be Kennewick's THE ASSOCIATED PRESS June 23, 2001 YAKIMA, Wash. -- The mystery of Kennewick Man's missing thigh bones may have been solved. Detectives cleaning out the Benton County sheriff's office evidence vault Thursday spotted a shoebox-sized container with bones inside. The pieces probably are from Kennewick Man, based on a preliminary examination, said Robbie Burroughs, an FBI agent in Seattle. An expert will study them more thoroughly and make a final determination. Then they will be turned over to the FBI, which has been investigating the disappearance of the bones since 1998. The 9,300-year-old remains represent one of the oldest and most complete skeletons found in North America. The collection of 350 bones was found in the shallows of the Columbia River in July 1996 at Columbia Park in Kennewick. Benton County Coroner Floyd Johnson was one of the first people to examine the bones, before they were turned over to the federal government for safekeeping. Sheriff Larry Taylor said the box was labeled "Columbia Park" and was in the coroner's cabinet. "The coroner basically didn't know what he had in his own little vault," Taylor said Friday. Johnson declined comment when contacted by The Associated Press. In March 1998, the government acknowledged that substantial pieces of Kennewick Man's femur bones had disappeared, bones that are valuable in assessing stature, size, age and ancestry. The loss disturbed both scientists, who are suing in U.S. District Court for access to the bones for study, and five American Indian tribes seeking the bones for reburial. U.S. Magistrate John Jelderks in Portland, Ore., is expected to issue a ruling in the case later this year. Sheriff's detectives don't usually go poking around in the coroner's locker, but the evidence vault is being cleaned out before it is razed under a new construction plan, Taylor said. - - - - - - Coach Apologizes About Comments on American Indian Athletes By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS June 23, 2001 BOZEMAN, Mont. (AP) -- Montana State basketball coach Mick Durham apologized Friday for comments he made to The New York Times about American Indian athletes. The Times published the remarks on the front page of its Sunday, June 17, edition as part of a story about the hurdles faced by Indian athletes trying to enter Division I college sports. ``It seems like the reservation is their comfort zone more than it would be for an inner-city kid,'' Durham was quoted as saying. ``To me, I just think they get the government check, and they stay. I don't know. I guess it's the way they're raised.'' Complaints to the school about the article prompted the apology from Durham and a letter to the editor of The New York Times from university president Geoff Gamble expressing the school's support of American Indian students. ``I apologize for the statements I made to a New York Times reporter recently regarding reservation life, and am deeply sorry for offending members of the Native American community,'' Durham said in a written statement. ``The discussion I had with that reporter revolved around illustrating stereotypes and perceptions that might be held by some, but not my beliefs. A very narrow portion of that conversation made it into print.'' Gamble, in his letter to the New York Times, said, ``I would like to make it clear that the comments do not reflect the attitudes nor the perceptions of myself or the administration at Montana State University, nor does it mirror the experience of American Indian students on this campus.'' - - - - - - Company asks for $2 million from tribe MSNBC 6-23-2001 MUSKOGEE, June 22 - Cherokee Nation Industries is seeking a $2 million gift from the tribe to address what the chief describes as a short-term cash flow problem. Tribal councilors previously were told the $2 million would be a loan. But tribe spokesman Mike Miller said CNI is requesting the cash infusion not be described as a loan or indebtedness of any kind. Having a loan on the books would not be good for the overall picture of CNI, Miller told the Muskogee Phoenix & Times-Democrat. CNI began in Stilwell in 1969 as a wire and cable division providing electrical wiring components on government projects, such as military tanks. Three other divisions have been added. CNI is having to contribute $100,000 every month to its wire and cable division to keep it solvent, Principal Chief Chad Smith wrote councilors. The division employs 117 people, In all, CNI employs 157 in Cherokee and Adair counties. In his letter to councilors, Smith said CNI had made "unfortunate business decisions'' to arrive at its current state. He said CNI President Hiram McFarland had submitted his resignation to the CNI board and to Smith, but that McFarland had agreed to remain available in a consultant role to assure a smooth transition. David Stewart, a certified public accountant from Sequoyah County serving as a consultant to Cherokee Nation Enterprises as director of business development for the past six months, has the tentative approval of the CNI board to take over day-to-day operations at CNI, Smith wrote. The chief recommends taking $1.48 million from the Marshal Service general fund budget and replacing it with Motor Fuels Tax funds and from settlement funds. He suggests taking almost $270,000 from the Adult Education general fund budget and replacing it the same way. He wants $248,966 from the General Fund's unappropriated fund balance. Smiths Thursday memo states he would propose legislation on Friday authorizing the $2 million to CNI at 6 percent interest and pursuant to the terms of a promissory note. Councilor Mary Flute Cooksey was not surprised the $2 million is now wanted as a gift and not a loan. "They couldn't pay it back anyway,'' Cooksey said. "I don't want to see the company close, but I don't feel comfortable shelling out $2 million when Hiram never let on like anything was wrong.'' - - - - - - Judge tells tribe suit not option to regain land By AMY LORENTZEN Lincoln Journal Star www.journalstar.com/nebraska?story_id=3618&past = Jun. 23, 2001 OMAHA (AP) - "A judge dismissed a federal lawsuit brought by the Omaha Tribe asking for the return of reservation lands given to the Winnebago Tribe more than 135 years ago. U.S. District Court Judge Joseph F. Bataillon ruled the Winnebago Tribe is immune from the lawsuit because the court has no jurisdiction over the tribe. Indian tribes are sovereign nations and cannot be sued without an act of Congress or a tribe's consent, Bataillon said. In the lawsuit, the Omaha Tribe cited a provision of the 1865 treaty that gave the land to the Winnebagos. That provision allows the Omahas to buy back the land if the two tribes did not get along. The tribe tendered to the U.S. Treasury certificates of deposit worth $50,000 - the amount Winnebago ancestors paid for the land. The lawsuit was triggered by the U.S. Indian Hospital Service's decision to build a new hospital to serve both tribes on the Winnebago reservation, which borders the Omaha reservation. Hospital construction began in August with plans to have it completed in 2003. The Omahas accused the Winnebagos of colluding with federal agencies and members of Congress to deny the Omahas meaningful input in the hospital project. The Omaha Tribe tried to stop hospital construction in addition to trying to buy back the Winnebago lands. The treaty clause the Omahas sued to enforce says if the Winnebago Tribe should prove detrimental to the peace, quiet and harmony of the tribes, the Omahas can repurchase the land. The federal government forced the Winnebagos to move from their Wisconsin home lands. Eventually, they ended up in South Dakota on dry, rocky land that did not support crops or game to hunt. As a result, many fled to the established Omaha reservation to the south in northeast Nebraska. Under the federal government's encouragement, a treaty was negotiated between the two tribes that allowed the Winnebagos to acquire their reservation land. Terry Pechota, the Omaha Tribe's attorney, said the tribe has not decided whether it will appeal. Said Winnebago Tribal Chairman John Blackhawk: "We understand their frustration. There were so many obstacles in front of them." Blackhawk said members of the two tribes remain friendly and he does not expect the ruling to have an effect on interaction between the tribes' members. About 3,500 Omahas and 2,500 Winnebagos live on their neighboring reservations. Defendants in the lawsuit included the U.S. Department of the Interior and other federal agencies." - - - - - - Stillaguamish put their fireworks profits back into tribal programs By BRIAN KELLY The Daily Herald . www.heraldnet.com/Stories/01/6/22/13916904.cfm June 22, 2001 "By the rockets' red glare, the Stillaguamish Tribe hopes to see more money for programs for tribal elders and children. The tribe has opened a fireworks stand to compete with the Tulalips' Boom City. It's the second year for the stand, and the first year it's being operated in a high-profile spot next to Highway 530 at Island Crossing. But unlike Boom City, the stand is run by the tribe, with all the profits going back into tribal programs. "Down there, you could be paying someone's rent for the year," said Eddie Goodridge Jr., executive director of the Stillaguamish Tribe. There are other differences as well. The Stillaguamish stand is bigger than any of the individually operated stands at Boom City. It's located in an 8-by-20-foot shed, plus an adjacent double-wide mobile home that the tribe got as surplus two weeks ago from the Bureau of Indian Affairs. It's a great location, Goodridge said, just behind the tribe's smoke shop and where roughly 20,000 people pass by every day. The bigger stand means the Stillaguamish have more room for more items, and their stand is stocked with more than 240 different types of fireworks. The average stand at Boom City carries 30 to 60 different items, Goodridge said. There's an impressive array at the Stillaguamish shop, with stacks and shelves of colorful fireworks packages that have all the subtlety of a circus poster. Beyond the well-recognizable standards like sparklers and Black Cat firecrackers, there's also Lightning Strikes, a wheel-sized roll of 16,000 firecrackers that sells for $120, and Night of the Grizzly, a $300 kit of 90 artillery shells that creates 130 explosions and comes equipped with earplugs and protective eyewear. About 90 percent of the items, Goodridge said, are the "safe and sane" fireworks that are available at non-Indian stands. With just one paid employee, plus a night security guard, the stand is mostly a volunteer operation. And since it is run by the tribe as a whole, there isn't the competitive atmosphere that pervades Boom City, Goodridge said. Beyond the loud and high-pressure sales tactics there, the intense competition can also lead to the sale of illegal explosives, he said. The Stillaguamish first opened their fireworks stand last year, on the tribe's housing land north of Arlington. Open for just 10 days, it brought in $17,000 for tribal programs before the tribe ran out of fireworks and closed on the afternoon of Independence Day. "We should triple that this year, or more," Goodridge said. Profits will be used to fund programs for the tribe's elders, as well as activities for children. Even so, it's a temporary home for the fireworks stand. Come September, the building will be used as a retail pharmacy in the tribe's next money-making venture. Eventually, the tribe hopes to acquire land so they can create a Stillaguamish version of Boom City."