Rez Family Speaks Out -

There’s another side to the ICWA that until very recently has received little disclosure or news coverage. Just why would a family (2-parent, single-parent, multi-generational, or blended) decide that reservation life is not what they CHOOSE for their family? The reasons are many, but some of the reasons are shocking.  

What cannot be denied is that a large number of Native Americans are dying from alcoholism, drug abuse, suicide and violence. Further, what is being hidden on some reservations is that scores of children are suffering emotional, physical and sexual abuse as a result of the accepted behavior on those reservations, and the ICWA is trapping more and more children into this unacceptable system.

While many tribal governments continue to fund congressional candidates who promise to increase tribal sovereignty, the voices of the children who are at the mercy of corrupt government continue to go unheard. The truth that must be revealed is that some tribal governments are not protecting the children in their “custody.” Some have said that there are children actually being traded and sold by the very people who are being paid to “foster” them. The Spirit Lake tribal government in North Dakota is not isolated in the mistreatment of children.

Though tribal governments claim there are accountability measures in place, in reality many children within the foster system never receive adequate care or any follow-up at all. Some tribal members report that extended family members, social workers, judges, lawyers, teachers, and other “mandated reporters” all seem to participate in this broken system where, as long as a child remains in foster care, the tribe and the custodian(s) receive a check. There is no incentive to permanently place an Indian child in an adoptive home, and no incentive to report abuse. The adults in charge simply turn a blind eye and pretend that the system works, and children are denied the most basic of human needs…real love and a safe place to call home.  

Dying in Indian Country, by Elizabeth Sharon Morris, provides a real glimpse into some of these unacceptable conditions. Dying in Indian Country tells a compelling true story of one family who comes to realize that corrupt tribal government, dishonest Federal Indian Policy, welfare policy, and the controlling reservation system has more to do with the current despair than tragedies that occurred 150 years ago.

“Dying in Indian Country is a compassionate and honest portrayal… I highly recommend it to you.” Reed Elley, former Member of Parliament, Canada; Chief Critic for Indian Affairs in 2000, Baptist Pastor, Father of four Native and Métis children

“He was a magnificent warrior who put himself on the line for the good of all…I can think of no one at this time, in this dark period of Indian history, who is able to speak as Roland has.” Arlene,Tribal Member

“…truly gripping, with a good pace.” Dr. William B. Allen, -Emeritus Professor, Political Science, MSU and former Chair of the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights (1989)

Dying in Indian Country is available at: http://dyinginindiancountry.com

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War On Women Comes from Cherokee Nation

NOT ONLY is the ‘INDIAN CHILD WELFARE ACT’ a weapon against the rights and best interests of many children – but it is an affront on the parental rights of ALL woman ~ The REAL War on Women comes in the form of the Cherokee Nation’s affirmation that single mothers of ALL heritages MUST fear tribal interference if they give a child up for adoption without knowing for certain that the birth father doesn’t have EVEN ONE DROP of Cherokee blood.

In the Thursday, October 18, 2012, segment of Dr. Phil show, Cherokee Nation Attorney Christi Nemmo refuses to admit Veronica had only a drop of Cherokee blood, but she also doesn't deny it. She doesn't answer the question because she knows people would be horrified. She tries to make the argument that it's not about how a child looks or how much blood the child has, but that they have a right to be part of the Cherokee tribe. Watch this 3 minute clip, then read more...

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She was sidestepping the fact that this "right" is being forced on not only this child, but many children and families all across the U.S. She is avoiding the fact that not all enrollable individuals WANT their children to be forced into the Cherokee Nation, not all enrollable parents want their children to be raised on or near the reservation, and some enrolled families have purposefully taken their children and moved away.

 For example: Enrolled mothers at a home for unwed mothers in Bismarck told State Representative Lee Kaldor that they had wanted to give their babies up for adoption, but were afraid that tribal government would interfere. So although they honestly didn't feel they were able to properly raise and nurture their babies, they felt that adoption wasn't an option. Instead, some of them contemplated abortion. ( Interestingly, tribal governments don't interfere in a mother's decision to abort.)

Nemmo is also ignoring the rights of the Latino birth mother in question - and ANY mother who chooses adoption for their child. The horrifying issue that is being ignored here is that while it's bad enough that enrolled mothers don't feel a freedom of choice in deciding what is best for their children, we also have a NON-Indian Mother, who was carrying a child with ONLY A TINY percentage of tribal heritage - and that mother and child's wishes were tromped on by tribal gov't. What a nightmare for any pregnant single mother contemplating adoption - that some minute amount of heritage could give a government the legal right to interfere.    

Beth Ward is the Author of the new book, "Dying in Indian Country." Purchase your copy at http://dyinginindiancountry.com/ and get it signed with a personal note, as well as $5 off the cover price ~

Chat with Author Beth Ward at her online Book Signing, Oct 13

The true story of an American Indian who realized just how much tribal and federal government policies were destroying his extended family.  

Roland grew up watching members of his family die of alcoholism, child abuse, suicide, and violence on the reservation. Like many others, he blamed all the problems on “white people.”  

Beth Ward grew up in a middle class home in the suburbs. Raised in a politically left family, she also believed that all problems on the reservation originated with cruel treatment by settlers and the stealing of land. Meeting her husband, her first close experience with a tribal member, she stepped out of the comfort of suburban life into a whole new, frightening world.  

After almost ten years of living with his alcoholism and the terrible dangers that came with it, they both realized that individual behavior and personal decisions were at the root of a man’s troubles, including their own, and no amount of entitlements would change that.  

What cannot be denied is that a large number of Native Americans are dying from alcoholism, drug abuse, suicide, and violence. The reservation, a socialistic experiment at best, pushes people to depend on tribal and federal government rather than God, and to blame all of life’s ills on others. The results have been disastrous. Roland realized that corrupt tribal government, dishonest federal Indian policy, and the controlling reservation system had more to do with the current pain and despair in his family and community than what had happened 150 years ago.  

Here is the plain truth in the eyes of one family, in the hope that at least some of the dying in Indian Country — physical, emotional, and spiritual — may be prevented.  

Dr. William B. Allen, Emeritus Professor, Political Science, MSU and former Chair of the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights (1989) has called the book, “…truly gripping, with a good pace.”  

Meet the author at an online book signing, Saturday, October 13th, 3 pm eastern time, 12 noon pacific, at https://dyinginindiancountry.campfirenow.com/room/533942

The book sells for $29.99 and is available online. For more information about the author and to purchase the book, please visit http://dyinginindiancountry.com/

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Children are Expedient: Nothing more

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Having watched the young dancers at the powwows for several years, I was impressed. I imagined Andrew as a fancy dancer. Wanting him to have a chance to learn, I called the Indian Center and was told about a child's drum and dance group meeting every week at the health center. Roland wasn't interested, so I took Andrew by myself.

The room was lined with parents sitting on folding chairs against the wall and their children sitting on their laps or standing near. I found a place to sit and held Andrew in front of me. I was surprised at the discomfort I felt. Having been with Roland for 6 years, I no longer felt conspicuous around Indians. But there was something here that wasn’t right. I looked around for a familiar face, but my eyes met only hostile stares. I understood immediately I was not wanted. What I couldn't understand though was with all of the talk about the benefits of tribal culture, why would these people chase away a white person who was trying to make sure their child stayed connected to the tribal culture? We never returned to the class.

Candis was visiting Arnold's sister on the northeast side, and Annie asked if I would drive Savannah and her up there. Driving over a bridge on Aspen Street, I slid on black ice and rammed into the rear end of a nice little car. Unfortunately, I wasn't carrying insurance.

The owner and I both got out to look at the damage. His rear fender suffered only a small, inch long crack. I was relieved. No important damage occurred. However, he seemed to think it was important and asked for my name, address and phone number. In a panic, I lied and gave him false information.

At Arnold's sister's later that afternoon, we told them about the incident. After that, I put it out of mind.

A few days later Arnold paid me to taxi Candis and him home to his “Rez”, which neighbored Salmon Lake. Candis was about ten at the time. Dorothy’s son, Troy, was visiting for a few days and rode with us. It was a cold night. The snow fell softly and silently. It was late and we all were tired. We hadn't originally intended to stop anywhere, but we had gotten a late start, and the weather had slowed us down. I couldn't drive anymore, and was glad Arnold had suggested we stop at his sister’s house.

The house we stopped at, with shoulder high snowdrifts in the driveway, was an unexpected, beautiful, ranch style home. The owner, Arnold's other sister and her husband, were obviously employed. We weren't sure if anyone was at home at first, but their 15-year-old daughter finally answered the door. After she assured Arnold it was no problem for us to stay, she led me past the kitchen and down to the end of the hall where there was a room I could use to sleep with Andrew. It was a teenage girl's room. The twin bed had a fluffy, pink comforter and the furnishings and toiletries on the dresser were that of a bubbly adolescent. I guessed it was her room. I am not sure where she and Candis were to sleep that night. Arnold and Troy slept on the living room couches.

I don't know how long I had been asleep when I heard noises in the hall. I could hear a man laughing and talking in slurred, drunken fashion, and I could hear Candis laughing and answering, "No, no, leave me alone. Don't do that!" I heard a loud thump, and suddenly the door to my room flew open. In the darkness, the man pushed Candis onto my bed, onto my legs, and began fumbling with the zipper of her pants.

In horror, I sat straight up and screamed at the top of my lungs; "Get the H--- out of here!"

The man jerked up, turned to look at me, and then dashed from the room. To my surprise, Candis started after him. Quickly, I jumped out of bed and grabbed her by the arm, "No! Not you!" I slammed the door shut and pulled Candis back to the bed, putting her in-between myself and Andrew, (who had never awakened). I wasn't going to let anyone touch her if I could help it. But I could hear the man moving around in the kitchen, getting himself something to eat. The kitchen was in between the living room and us. How will I get to Arnold and Troy for help? Who was that man? What if he comes back with a gun, mad, or scared I’ll call the cops?

Candis fell asleep after a short time, but I sat in the room with the lights on for the rest of the night, too afraid to close my eyes. After a time, I could hear the man snoring, but I was still too scared to attempt to get past him. In my mind's eye, I pictured him sitting in a chair, sleeping with his head bent and his chin on his chest. What could I do? I was too afraid to leave the room.

Candis and Andrew slept peacefully beside me.
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