Wednesday, December 06, 2017

Hearing for Standing Rock water protector Red Fawn Fallis this Friday, 12/8/17. US Federal District Courthouse, Bismarck, ND, 9 am, Courtroom #1. Stand w/ who's been held by US jailers for more than 1year. FREE RED FAWN

Sunday, November 19, 2017

Thankstaking - National Day of Mourning and Fasting

Rebel Diaz - The Thankstaking

                       Free Red Fawn Fallis                       Red Fawn is a Lakota woman Political Prisoner  who is unjustly imprisoned by the U.S. government for her defense of the Mni Wiconi (Sacred Water) at Standing Rock in 2016. Her trial begins in January, 2018 and the US government is seeking to put her in prison for the rest of her life.
Red Fawn stood in protection of the Sacred Water.
Now, she needs us to stand with her.
Please support Red Fawn.
Free Red Fawn

Sunday, October 29, 2017

In honor of our Brother, Teacher, and Example of
Indigenous Resistance

            Nowa Cumig             

(Dennis Banks)

Image result for dennis banks russell means

           Russell Means and Dennis Banks (ca. 1973 and 2012)
Standing Rock, Oceti Sakowin Camp, 2016

New York Times Obituary, October 30,2017


Dennis Banks' powerful indictment of the boarding school genocide
"We Shall Remain" (2009)

Colorado AIM Tribute to Dennis Banks
30 October 2017
Dennis Banks (Nowa Cumig – Ojibwe for “In the Center of the Universe”) was a genuine indigenous revolutionary, not simply because he was willing to defend Native people with his life, but because he worked tirelessly to inspire people of all races and colors to imagine a new future, based on core indigenous values. Banks not only had the courage to “speak truth to power,” but he laid his body on the gears of the machine of anti-Indian power and forced it to a stop.

He might be best known, along with his AIM brother Russell Means, for their leadership in the American Indian Movement (AIM) at Wounded Knee (1973), or The Trail of Broken Treaties (1972), but he spent his entire life empowering Native peoples to extract themselves from the jaws of colonial occupation -- from political and legal injustice, from drugs, alcohol and suicide among Native youth, from a boarding school system that has left a wrecking yard of carnage throughout Indian Country, to corporate/governmental environmental racism in places like Standing Rock and the Tar Sands and the Amazon.

Dennis Banks continued his example until his final breath in this world, and his work will carry on. A new generation has embraced Banks’ vision – from Standing Rock to the United Nations, from the classroom to the boardroom, confronting ongoing anti-Indian racism while constructing a new and sustainable future for the next seven generations of Native children. History placed Dennis Banks in a particular place at a particular historical moment, a moment when Native people in the US were on the brink of extermination. 

Fortunately for Native peoples, Dennis seized his responsibility and helped to create a movement that inspired a resistance that now allows us to speak our languages without fear, to practice our spirituality freely, to protect our children from kidnapping and abuse, to know our histories and defend our treaty rights. He convinced us to stand with dignity and self-respect to assert that Great Turtle Island will always be indigenous territory and that we will never be made to feel like strangers or refugees or orphans in our homeland again.

Dennis Banks was not a saint. He was a human being with all of the strengths and weaknesses of any of us. Despite that, he rose above his flaws and shortcomings and through his life, he encouraged us to remember that we are stronger and smarter and braver and more spiritual than we think we are. He taught us and mentored us to unlock our genetic memory, to live our lives in ways that would make our ancestors proud to call us their descendants.  We owe Dennis Banks much – perhaps our very lives and consciousness.  The Native world, and the larger world around us, is better off because he lived. After a proper period of mourning and reflecting on his life’s work, Nowa Cumig would want us to reset our vision for the Native struggle, reaffirm our commitment to the defense and the liberation of our people, roll up our sleeves, and get back to work. Which is exactly what we intend to do.

Friday, September 30, 2016

Transform Columbus Day

Stand With Standing Rock

Lawrence O'Donnell on The Standing Rock Resistance. A blistering indictment of invader society:

Monday, October 05, 2015

Resist Columbus Day Racism -- Pueblo, CO, October 11-12, 2015

Columbus Day began in Colorado, with the Colorado state government declaring it a state holiday in 1907. The holiday has nothing to to do with "honoring Italians." It has to do with celebrating, invasion, colonialism [Columbus' actual name was Cristobal Colon], and genocide against Native peoples. There is growing momentum to abolish the holiday, with several locations already having done so -- South Dakota, Seattle, Minneapolis, Berkeley, CA, with current efforts in other places, including Oklahoma City. We have a responsibility to abolish this racist holiday in its birthplace.

Friday, November 28, 2014

Remember the Sand Creek Massacre

Thursday, November 27, 2014

My family's Thanksgiving on the reservation is a rebuke to America's colonialism by Frank Waln (Sicangu Lakota)

When I was a little kid, I was unaware that I am the bastard child of colonisation, born into a reality in which I’ll spend my entire life combating the way the world views me based on propaganda like national sports mascots and tales of the first thanksgiving.
As an adult, Thanksgiving is just more colonialist propaganda masquerading as history – and a day that represents hundreds of years of genocide, persecution and oppression of our people.
So I love the version of the Thanksgiving story in the movie Addams FamilyValues, because I get to see the Indians win.
In the summer camp play depicting the first thanksgiving, all the blond, white kids in their Western hegemonic glory are cast as the Pilgrims. The outcasts of the summer camp – the black, brown and disabled kids – are cast as the Indians, with Wednesday Addams as Pocahontas (despite the fact that the Wampanoags were the first to come into contact with the Pilgrims, and Pocahantas was Powhatan). During the performance, Wednesday disregards the script, gives a speech about the impending colonization the Pilgrims will bring, proclaiming, “The Gods of my tribe have spoken. They have said ‘Do not trust the Pilgrims’” – and then leads a revolt and burns the Pilgrim village to the ground.
I love this scene because the cultural appropriation and racist dialogue usually used in portrayals of Indigenous people on thanksgiving is absent. I was taken in by the illusion that we were finally triumphant – if only in a made-up play, in a movie about a strange, fictional family.
My family is Sicangu Lakota, and I was born and raised on the Rosebud Reservation in South Dakota. My family was in no way wealthy, but we were lucky enough to have food on our table when we got together at my grandma’s house to eat every day. My mother taught me to give thanks for the things we have every day, because that’s what Lakotas do.
As a 25-year-old Lakota hip-hop artist, I celebrate life by creating new, true representations for the next generation to look up to instead of make-believe ones. I celebrate life by using my art to speak on indigenous resistance and the injustices indigenous people suffer.
But living on the reservation as a child, the colonialism the holiday represents never occurred to me as we came together every Thanksgiving. I grew up spending every Thanksgiving eating, laughing and spending time with my family.
I now see the historical subtext behind the holiday, and the way some Indigenous folks, including my family, have appropriated the day as a time to celebrate our life. On Thanksgiving, we aren’t celebrating the Mayflower landing in the New World or the systematic genocide that decimated Native populations. We’re enjoying a meal no different than any other meal in our house, but with a little extra food on the table that day. Lakota people don’t need a national holiday to come together as family to eat and give thanks.
But I have a lot of respect for the Indigenous folks who refuse to observe the “holiday” in any way, shape or form.
Because there are more than 560 federally-recognized tribes (and many more unrecognized) in the US alone, I can’t speak for all Indigenous people – their views on Thanksgiving are as varied as their cultures, languages, and traditions.
My family getting together to eat and celebrate our lives on a day that represents the genocide of our ancestors and culture is, in its own way, a “fuck you” to colonialisation. America’s colonial project failed. We’re still here, and we’re keeping our ceremonies and traditions alive. We’re still speaking our languages. We’re living our culture. I’m alive and I know what it means to be Lakota. For that, I give thanks every day.