Marchando Juntos Somos Más Fuertes


En solidaridad con la Marcha de las Mujeres en Washington D.C. y otras ciudades de todo el país

21 de enero, 2017 11:30—2:30 pm


La marcha comienza en la Alcaldía de Newport y termina en Hallmark Resort. Por favor, únese al final de la marcha para una reunión con música en vivo, café, y oradores.

Para todos que estén interesados en proteger los derechos civiles, proteger a las comunidades vulnerables y proteger el medio ambiente.

Con el apoyo de Central Oregon Coast NOW, el Comité de Diversidad del Condado de Lincoln, PFLAG, y el Comité Central Democrático del Condado de Lincoln


Today is a historic day both for the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe and for indigenous people everywhere.

Thanks in part to the pressure from people like you, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers announced that it would not be granting an easement under Lake Oahe for the Dakota Access pipeline to cross the Missouri River, just a half mile upstream of the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe reservation.

Taylor Peterson, Katherine Morrisseau, Nancy Scanie, and Fawn Youngbear-Tibbetts. Clan Grandmother Nancy Scanie from Cold Lake Dene First Nation in Alberta Canada represents the Athabasca Keepers of the Water. (photo by Joey Podlubny)

Standing Rock Sioux Tribe Chairman, Dave Archambault II said in a statement,

“We wholeheartedly support the decision of the administration and commend with the utmost gratitude the courage it took on the part of President Obama, the Army Corps, the Department of Justice and the Department of the Interior to take steps to correct the course of history and to do the right thing.

With this decision we look forward to being able to return home and spend the winter with our families and loved ones, many of whom have sacrificed as well. We look forward to celebrating in wopila, in thanks, in the coming days.”

This is a huge victory and it would not have been possible without your continued support.

Earlier this year our team of legal experts worked with the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe to file a lawsuit against the Corps. Since then we have been fighting tooth and nail to stop this pipeline.

The fact of the matter is, this pipeline never should have been routed near these sacred lands in the first place and it certainly never should have received permits without a thorough and meaningful discussion of potential risks with the affected Indian Tribes.

Today’s announcement that a full environmental impact statement will be prepared is a step in the right direction. It sets in motion a new round of public involvement that will have to take place before the final portion of the pipeline can be completed.

As we continue forward I know we can count on you to speak out and make sure your voice is heard.

Please Share this Immediately. Standing Rock Observations from a Combat Veteran’s Point of View.


My husband, my friend, and I left for a 12 hour drive to Cannonball, North Dakota on Thanksgiving day to stand in solidarity with the Lakota Sioux Tribe. I thought when I left Saudi Arabia in 1991, at the end of Operation Desert Storm, that I’d ever feel as unsafe as I did in the theater of war on American soil, and I was wrong. When we arrived, the concertina wire, road block barricades and burned out cars greeted us with jagged smile, and my heart sank. My eyes tried to drink it in, teepee’s, tents, yurts, vehicles, dust, and smoke as far as the eyes could see. The smell of the GP Large tents, took me back to a place I never wanted to revisit. This was the longest 3 days of my life since the war. At the gas station in Cannonball, my husband met a man looking to find Standing Rock, his name is Rich and he followed us in. Rich, it turns out is a Purple Heart recipient from Afghanistan. Within minutes we were embracing because we understood each other’s pain. I knew who Rich was without having to say a word, and he knew who I was, comrades in arms.
What is happening between the hired militarized security forces and the people of the Standing Rock Sioux would be a mis-characterization not to refer to it as a conflict. When you have jersey barriers on a bridge, concertina wire, flood lights, 38,000 pound mine resistant armor protected personnel carriers against people who are burning sage bundles, and using the victory sign as a means of protest it’s not a demonstration, it’s a human rights violation. The Dakota Access Pipeline forces are known as DAPL.
What I observed at Standing Rock absolutely changed me, healed me, and hurt me in ways I never imagined. There is a vested community of people who genuinely want to be a part of history to change the world for the better. They cook meals as a community, pray together, accept one another immediately regardless of race, creed, sexual orientation and gender. There are announcements all over the camp, “What ever your ‘ism’ is, leave it at the gate. No racism, sexism, stupidism, no isms allowed.”
My husband and our friend who is a Franciscan Sister had been to the camp a week before. This time my friend Alliza who is a member of the Navajo Nation traveled with us. I think in the 24 hours we spent in the car together, I learned more about the plight of Native Americans than I had learned in college. Alliza, is a wise teacher. We stayed in the Southwest section of camp with her people. I learned about the sacred fire, lessons of the Hopi, Navajo, and Lakota Sioux. I met people from all nations. I felt accepted as white female, and never once did I feel as if I were an outsider. The motto of the camp, “Mitakuye Oyasin, we are all related,” could not have been more true. I thanked two Muslim women coming to stand with the Sioux, while wearing a veteran hat.
Dogs, horses, and kids,run free through camp. Portable restrooms dot the landscape with dumpsters, and propane refilling trucks. It’s bitterly cold, and people jump in trash bins to recycle bottles, paper, and plastic. The smells of sage, cedar, and medicinal herbs linger in the wind. Barking, hoof beats, sacred songs of the nations, hammering, generators, laughter, and battle cries erupt throughout the night. It’s a menagerie of experiences and people, you’ll take away from the camp what you want. Alliza shared bitter medicine from her beloved grandfather who had died. She kept it in a sacred pouch for protection from negativity. She graciously shared that medicine and I ingested that into my being, she knew I would need it. I was grateful from my heart because I knew how precious it is to her.
All day and night volunteers wash dishes, make food, keep order, hug one another, and try to use their phones, and computers. I had 4 bars on my phone the entire time I was there, but couldn’t even update a Facebook status. I’m not certain, nor do I have any proof that the militarized oil security forces are using jammers, but I have my suspicions. Jammers are legal only to the federal government and used by the military. Police forces have used them in the United States to disrupt or thwart protests. They work by disrupting the communication between the cell phone and the tower. I couldn’t even upstream a simple Snapchat video. I was shooting a livestream event on Facebook, a oil security plane flew directly overhead and I lost my signal each time. I have no proof, and in my opinion only I have my suspicions that the agencies are using a dirtbox, that not only jams phones but collects data from all the cell phones in an area. If you have about $9000.00 you can mount one to your plane too. Stingray trackers are available and similar to a dirtbox.
I walked with Alliza to the river in a peaceful march. The sky was blue, the land was blond. Turtle Island is a hill, and outcropping of rocks on the water where the Lakota have ancestors buried. The Dakota Access Pipeline denies the fact that Turtle Island is a burial site. On our walk there, I panicked. I put earplugs in because the previous Sunday, concussion grenades and sound canons were used, this is also denied by the militarized oil security. On top of the hill concertina wire glittered in the sun, stadium lighting lined the expanse with armored vehicles and armed personnel. The Morton County Sherri’s Department stood by looking down upon us. I had no weapon, no Kevlar helmet, no first aid kit and no M-16. I was vulnerable, naked in the open, and realized from the vantage point of the security forces I couldn’t even low crawl into the grass to take cover. I fought my tears back and swallowed hard. I was reliving the worst moments of my life, and I was doing it on American soil. The irony was that it was people just like me up on that hill. I now had it slap me in the face at rocket like speed how the Iraqi people felt, how my fellow soldiers caught in the open felt, and hot, bitter, tears streamed down my face. I didn’t know what to do, so I walked to the edge of the water where the security forces had concertina wired the Native Americans canoes into the shore, stood at attention and saluted the security forces for a good ten seconds.
What happened next was quite remarkable and changed my life forever. A Navajo flag flanked the shoreline tied to a tree branch, a Navajo man by the name of Cedric embraced me. I fell into his shoulders and cried from my soul. I repeated to him over, and over. I am so sorry, I am so ashamed, I am so very sorry. He hugged me while I sobbed and didn’t let go. I felt all the shame of what my ancestors had done to the Native Americans, I felt the shame of what my military brother’s and sister’s were doing to these people and I couldn’t get rid of the shame. He opened my hands and placed cedar and tobacco into my palms, he thanked me for my service and hugged me again under the watchful eyes of the police. I owe him a debt of gratitude for life, he broke my heart wide open and now the healing can begin.
Two elders led a ceremony of healing. The first elder said, “If your heart is black and full of hate, you belong up on the hill with the DAPL.” He spoke of non-violence, forgiveness, compassion and not taking up arms. He understood how angry people are, he knew this week that they would be tested, he knows that some people may lose their lives and be returned to the creator and stressed once again this can only be achieved through peaceful resistance. They sang sacred songs and blessed us. Another Navajo speaker came to the front, he explained how many hours he had driven from Arizona to get to Standing Rock. When he spoke he broke down, “When I think of my children, my grandchildren I want one day to say, I fished in the Missouri river and caught a fish today because grandfather was there to protect the water.” It was that simple, you can’t drink oil. I went to war so people could have cheap gas. The Native Americans are always the people to pay for the American way. This pipeline is a private venture, for private profit. They are essentially building a pipeline through Arlington National Cemetery. President Obama has abandoned the First People and President Elect Donald Trump is a financial investor.
I am a self employed Midwestern mother of four children. I am in debt 35,000 for student loans for my children. My son is graduating from the military next week. I am not a professional protester. The rumors online about what happened to Sophia Wilanski are unjust. The DAPL said she made an IED from a propane tank, my guess is she was hit by a concussion grenade, again I can’t prove this but it is my opinion. I have seen what war can do to a body, and this is a war declared on the Lakota Sioux water protectors. I am an average mom, an average citizen, an average veteran trying to support the right thing.
I am terrified for my fellow veterans going to Standing Rock. We are wounded people that have been mistreated by our government and sometimes our citizens. We are a tired collective of people that are exhausted by abuse, tired of being silenced and drained by war. My fear is that those who have been sworn to protect the Constitution, and our citizens whether on foreign or domestic soil will do just that. There are veterans arriving that are republican, democratic, independent, they have no race or creed. My fear is that since the Federal government has ignored this situation, and allowed itself to report to the needs of business over citizens that many lives will be shed. An active duty army member said to me this weekend, “That will never happen, they don’t want another Kent State on their hands.” I wish I could agree but I don’t. Veterans will fight for the people of Standing Rock. There are children in this camp, and I wish to God the parents would remove their children to a safe place, Standing Rock is not safe, it’s under a militarized security force. When you place jersey blocks on a bridge to take cover behind and have enough military power to control 10,000 unarmed people, you are courting certain disaster.
Please, pray for the people of Standing Rock. Please do something, to do nothing means we will all have blood on our hands December 5th.

A Young Jesse Jackson Rallies for Jobs

The Rev. Jesse L. Jackson was only 27 on Sept. 22, 1969, when he led a rally of 4,000 people in Chicago, calling for an end to discrimination in the construction trades. In an interview, which has been condensed, he described what he remembered from that day.


We wanted to demand that if they were going to build where we live, we should have the trade skills to build. If there were public contracts, we should have the right to have a part of those contracts.

The police were there to protect them from us; we should have been protected from them.

We were just fighting regular racial segregation, except it was segregation in the unions – as it was in the schools, as it was in the police and fire departments. It was as hostile as anything we faced in the South, maybe even more so.

As for me, well, I’m still here. My fire for justice and inclusiveness is as strong now as it was then. Today it is facing those police in Ferguson, those police who still think they have the right to kill us; or in Flint, it’s the right to poison the water. We’re still fighting these barriers to equality and justice.

It’s not understood. The same people who call us lazy lock us out of trade unions. We’ve had to fight to get the right to skills to work. Many young men are hopeless and jobless — they don’t have the same trade skills their white counterparts had.

In the fight to rebuild where we live, there are countless jobs. There are probably more jobs than people. People ask how can you police poverty. You can’t police poverty. But you can develop people where you live so there’s less need for police.

“4,000 Negroes in Chicago Rally In Bid for Skilled Building Jobs” in TimesMachine

Photo credit:  CreditGary Settle/The New York Times