Confessions of a Standing Rock Do-Gooder

I will not be another white person telling an Indian what they need. I confess, I came to their reservation to feel like a hero. I did not realize my need to feel seen that way was a form of violence. I was also unaware of how racist I was, until I met an evil man who happened to be native, and I couldn’t see it, because it was politically incorrect to do so -- and because he was my friend.

What Story Can I Tell?

“The Plains and Pacific Coast Indians ranged over larger expanses of land in their search for plants, animals, and shelter to meet their needs, and adopt seasonal homes to take advantage of natural bounty of different areas during different times of the year. Their movements were directed by natural events such as annual salmon spawning... Continue Reading →

Memories of a Living Movement

“What, after all, is an animal worth, or a mountain, or a redwood tree, or an hour of human life? The market gives us a numerical answer based on scarcity and demand. To the degree that we believe that such values have meaning, we live in a world that is desacralized and desensitized, without heart... Continue Reading →

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