37 minute read
We Did Not Cross the Border, the Border Crossed Us
We didn't cross the border. the border crossed us.
Countless Indigenous Peoples have been divided by imposed State borders, their communities and relatives separated by artificial lines, their migration patterns, sacred rituals, fishing and hunting ways altered. Innumerable Indigenous communities have suffered forced displacement due to conservation efforts, extractive industry operations, political strife, and the impacts of climate change. Every day we hear about Indigenous migrants who are forced to leave their home in search of work because it is no longer viable for them to make a living locally. They flee violence; they flee because they can no longer provide for their families, because their resources are depleted or polluted by large scale agribusiness. To tackle migration and immigration issues, we must reverse the impacts of colonization, decades of neoliberal policies, and the current operations of extractive industries, agro companies, and monocropping that have impoverished Indigenous communities. We must respect, protect, and fulfill Indigenous rights, encouraging the decolonization and support of home communities with sustainable economic opportunities so that people do not have to leave. The following are a few Indigenous voices on these issues. We invite you to listen. To hear the full interviews, visit: cs.org/rights.
We Don’t Let the Border Stop Us Aslak Holmberg (Sami from Finland) Vice President of the Sami Council
Ilive right at the border between Finland and Norway. I ’m from the Deatnu (Tana) River Valley, which is an important salmon fishing river in the world. My home village is called Njuorggán (Nuorgam), which is the northernmost village on the Finnish side of the border. My family comes from both sides of the border, but we don’t really try to emphasize it here because we have been here long before the border was formed. Finland was still not independent from Russia when the border was closed in 1852. The closing of the border meant the end for our usual migration patterns. It used to be common for the Sami, on what is today the Finnish side of the border, to migrate with the reindeer to the coast, what is today the Norwegian side. After the border was closed, that meant that it was not allowed for us to move across the border with the reindeer. This is quite different from what used t o be done when the summer pastures were far away from the winter pastures, so the reindeer herding has changed a lot. Nowadays—in my region at least—it’s part of herding t o feed the reindeer at least part of the year because there isn’t as much area for the reindeer to find food as there used to be. The lifestyle has changed because of the border.
A nother thing that is important here is salmon fishing. It’s not possible to net fish legally together with my friends or colleagues or relatives from the Norwegian side, although net fishing is the main traditional way of fishing. The State border
divides our traditional practice, because by law we should fish only with people who are from the same country as we are. But that’s not how the community is structured. We don’t consider that border…we don’t allow it to dominate the way we live. I believe there is one ongoing court case when two men were fishing with the same boat doing drift net fishing, which requires two people to work together because you cannot do it alone. In this case, it was a man from the Finnish side and the Norwegian side. They were caught and then fined, and they went to court with it. It also became illegal for us to go pick cloudberries on the Norwegian side and then come back with them across the border. My family is from both sides of the border, and people are very used to going to get their berries or fish on the other side. When there are these kinds of legal regulations, that can impact the way we usually use the surrounding areas. The border has many different levels. For example, Finland is part of the European Union while Norway is not; Norway is part of NATO while Finland is not. There was some new directive recently from the European Union about how you cannot bring vegetables and berries across the border. The consequence of that is that you will lose the product that you have that you’re not allowed to bring across the border. We are working on starting a project that would look into the hindrances that the borders cause and the requirements t o solve those problems. For example, there are some reindeer herders that migrate from the Swedish side to the Norwegian side, and they’ve had problems with the reindeer herding co nvention that should ensure their right to use their ancestral grazing lands. There is already some cooperation between schools. The school in Ohcejohka (Utsjoki), which is the center village of the municipality here on the Finnish side, and the Sirbmá (Sirma) school on the Norwegian side, have been working together for many years. Once a week the pupils from the school on the Norwegian side go to the school on the Finnish side, and then on another day the pupils from the school on the Finnish side go to the Norwegian side. This school cooperation tries not to let the State border dictate how we can collaborate. There is an old piece of legislation that is still enforced called the Lapp Codicil, which is a document that was created when the borders were established in the Sami areas in 1751. The goal is to ensure that the State borders don’t negatively affect the way that the Sami live here. In many cases, the border came across what we call our villages, which is the main governance institution—or it used to be. The Lapp Codicil states that the State borders should not negatively impact the way we trade across the border or the way we otherwise interact. I would remind the authorities that even though it is an old piece of legislation from 1750s, it has never been rebuked. It is still legally enforced, but it’s not actively considered as a guidin g document when making decisions regarding the Sami in border areas. I would remind them to respect these agreements because the situation is more or less the same r egarding the Sami that still live here. We don’t let the border stop us from collaborating, so that should also be ensured in t he laws.
There Should Be No Borders for Indigenous Peoples Victoria Tauli-Corpuz (Kankanaey Igorot from the Philippines) UN Special Rapporteur on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples
Iam from the Cordillera region in the Philippines. There is a lot of out-migration of Indigenous Peoples, whether from their own communities to the urban centers, or out of the country. In the Philippines we have a big number of Indigenous women and men who are outside of the country, mainly because they cannot find jobs in the Philippines. That’s a big issue that has to be addressed. There are multiple factors pushing Indigenous Peoples out of their communities, and these have very serious implications in terms of the strength of the community to be able to continue practicing their cultures and transmit them to the next generation. In Asia, there are many Indigenous Peoples across national borders. Theoretically we should be able to continue to be mobile and to visit relatives across the border. But that’s where a lot of problems come, because now there are all these so-called antiterror laws where Indigenous Peoples are always suspected of being insurgents or terrorists, and therefore their mobility and their capacity to walk across borders is very much undermined. There should really be no borders as far as Indigenous Peoples are concerned because they existed in those territories before these nation states came into the picture. It is the obligation of nation states to allow for that.
We Need to Look at the Larger Benefit for Everyone Joan Carling (Kankanaey from the Philippines) I ndigenous Peoples Major Group for Sustainable Development Convenor
The continuing out-migration of Indigenous Peoples from their lands, territories, and resources is actually an alarming trend now. The issue of land grabbing [and resulting displacement] is one major factor that has to be stopped. Another is the increasing incidence of natural disasters because of climate change. More and more Indigenous Peoples are driven away because of the impact of these kinds of disasters; we are becoming victims to these disasters without even contributing to the climate crisis. Another reason is militarization and conflicts in Indigenous territories. How can children go to school if there’s always fighting in their areas? How can we do our traditional livelihoods? There is also the economic condition of Indigenous Peoples, who increasingly cannot provide for their families because their lands are taken away. Out-migration, particularly because of economic reasons, is making Indigenous women and children more vulnerable to abuse because their social network is not there anymore and they’re not familiar with the social environment that they’re getting into. In terms of youth, that is already quite a worry. We need to put in place an environment where the youth will stay in their communities. We need them to have access to education in their own communities so that they don’t have to leave to study in urban centers, far away from their families and their people, and to encourage them to come back and use whatever they’ve learned to help their own people. In the case of Indonesia, there is a clear program encouraging youth to go back to their communities. This has proven effective, and one of the means that they have done this through is the use of technology. [We need to] provide security and support for Indigenous Peoples in their own areas for their sustainable development so that they remain in their communities. We need support to be able to sustain the way we manage our resources and provide livelihoods and for people to be self-reliant so that they don’t have to go looking for jobs. This means we need to take care of the specific needs and aspirations of Indigenous women. We also need to account for the situation of persons with disabilities in our communities. We need to develop a holistic approach to sustainable development of Indigenous Peoples from their perspective and generate the kind of support that is needed. If we do that, we’re contributing to the sustainable development of the wider society because we are protecting the resources needed for future generations. Th ere are different types of border issues. The Karen community was split between Myanmar and Thailand, and they cannot self-govern in the way that they did before. Since neither country recognizes their rights, families and clans of Karen are separated because of this border. We also see that all over India, where the Tripuri were split between Bangladesh and India. Now both the governments of Bangladesh and India are putting non-Indigenous people in these areas, which is causing more problems instead of resolving the issue. Where I come from, my town has a boundary dispute with the next village. The decision was to agree that we don’t have to demarcate the boundary and to agree that both villages
can use the area without drawing the line. It’s more important for both peoples to have peaceful coexistence rather than have a conflict. At the end of the day, it’s the protection of our territories on a wider level that is more important. As long as we live by the values of Indigenous Peoples of solidarity, cooperation, and upholding the common good, that should be the framework of resolving these kinds of boundary issues in a peaceful manner. I t is time for the world to listen to Indigenous Peoples because we have so much to offer. We have been protecting our planet and we have positive values in the way we govern ourselves; those values are what we need at this stage. What we need is to uphold the common interest. We need transparency. And we need to care for each other, especially those most in need. Having reciprocal relations with our environment so we don’t destroy it, this is needed for future generations. These are universal values that have to guide the way to achieving sustainable development. Photo by Pilar Valbuena, Global Landscape Forum.
The Separation of Families Has Consequences William Lopez (Maya Aguacateca from Guatemala), Journalist
Photo courtesy of William Lopez.
We are located in the northwest of Guatemala, about three hours from the Mexican border. We are known for the cultivation of garlic, onion, corn, and beans. Our language has been drastically impacted by invasion, immigration, and migration; now there are people who no longer speak Aguacateco. Many go to other countries and return with another accent. The media have also greatly affected the language of our children. I have been very interested in creating a link between our communities and the people who have migrated to other countries. The United States and Canada have the largest presence of Aguacatecos; of Aguatec migrants living in the United States, almost half have their legal resident status, and the other half are undocumented. Pending their legal status in the U.S., many feel this need to connect to their hometown, to their community. This is the task that I have been given, to connect these families through streaming media, video, and audio, to generate information that transcends borders. Since the internal armed conflict in the 1980s, the first Aguatecos fled from Aguacatan to Mexico, then to the U.S. Everyone went to the farms, banana plantations on the south coast, and others to coffee plantations. My grandparents lived through all these temporary migration movements. They went to earn wages and returned. In terms of permanent migration, many people have gone forever, they already have families in the U.S. This has changed the panorama here in Aguacatan. The high cost of living in Guatemala has also forced people to migrate, usually illegally, to the U.S. Every day there are fewer Aguacatecos here in Aguacatan. It used to be men who migrated a lot. Now women and children are the ones who are taking the risky journey north. Aguacatan is one of the cultures that 50 percent of the population lives in the United States. The majority have one, two, up to three relatives in the U.S. The separation of families has consequences. In order for our society to function properly, the figure of father and mother are indispensable. In our Maya lifeways, grandparents
or parents were always in pairs to raise their children. Now it is totally different. Sometimes only the mother is with the children. Sometimes the children stay with the grandparents, but it is not the same relationship with the grandparents as the parents of the family. This has brought us problems in society: conflicts between young people, drug addiction, alcoholism. It is difficult to think about the future of our children, as currently a university degree is not enough to survive in this country. It is not easy to find a job even with a master’s degree. I h ave visited some agricultural communities in the dry corridor of Aguacatan, towns and other parts of the country. The main crop they harvest is tomato, but they have been compromised in recent years. The rain does not come in season as before and they have had to bring in water. That made the costs of producing increase. It is practically no longer profitable to sow in these conditions. This has forced people to migrate because climate change has really changed the climate and the water cycles. My grandfather recently said to me, “I am worried about the corn situation because it is not growing anymore.” Because of the invasion of the transgenic seeds, all this has come to change the original crops. That forces us to migrate. It is climate change. People who planted before now do not sow as they traditionally did. They are forced out of these communities. They look toward the coasts of Guatemala or risk going to the U.S. As Indigenous Peoples, our constitution, the law of our country, guarantees us nothing. A very clear example is in the media; we have limited access to Guatemalan radio frequencies. It is a violation of our Indigenous rights. That has also limited us: little access to information. Many times we do not inform ourselves of what is happening, or we are simply manipulated by a monopoly communication system. We need to depend on ourselves to avoid migration, and to avoid the damage done to our cultures and our families.
It Is Normal for People to Live Across Borders Raja Devashis Roy (Chakma from Bangladesh) Former UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues Member
What is territorial integrity? And what if Indigenous people cross here and there or have relatives on both sides of the wall—is that a security issue? It is very common, very normal for people to live across borders, to have relatives across borders, to have contacts, cultural links. It will take 20, 30 years in South Asia, but ultimately I think States will realize that there is a need for that. Indigenous Peoples have in some cases migrated beyond the borders, but not in such a large scale as non-Indigenous people. You can see the Indian-Bangladesh border issue: some people have migrated and are practicing shifting cultivation between India, Myanmar, and Bangladesh. Farmers sometimes don’t even know when they cross the border by cultivation because there is no clear border boundary pillar. ILO Convention 169 recognizes the rights of Indigenous Peoples to maintain sociocultural contexts across the borders, and the UN Declaration also does that, but most of our governments in South Asia have not implemented this. Southeast Asia is a little more relaxed, but still not like Latin America, where border controls are more relaxed. Indigenous Peoples are losing their identity and their language. The second generation are not speaking their languages. In this new place, their food, their clothes, their literature and music is changing. It becomes a struggle. In many cases, these people are going to lose their identity. They will remain Indigenous; once or twice a year they will observe the special days
and wear traditional clothing and put up photographs on Facebook. But for the rest of the 364 days, what happens? Will they be living in a way they would like to live, where they can feel comfortable and practice their spirituality, t heir music, literature, and culture? Language rights have been clearly recognized in the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, both as a collective right of a nation, but also as an individual right. In the Convention on the Rights of the Child and ILO Convention 169, the right of a child to speak his or her mother tongue is guaranteed. Even where we are staying in our ancestral territories, many of us are losing our languages. My concern is not just the death of a language; it’s the morbidity of a l anguage. Before, you used to speak 100 percent or 95 percent using your language. Now it’s maybe 10, 15, 20 percent. I a m concerned about Indigenous Peoples, about our iden tity. [But when] I see the youth, I also feel confident. They have the energy, they can dream. They must also learn from the older generations and from their heritage, their t raditions, their customary law, their spirituality, their links with ecology and nature. I hope that this transmission of t raditional knowledge is passed on as much as possible in the right way to the youth, to the next generation, so the youth can go on using modern technology and all the advantages o f social media and science and technology, but retaining t he ethos and identity of Indigenous Peoples.
We Were Forcefully Evicted Gakemotho Tikhwebe Satau (Buka Khwe from Botswana)
I’m a member of a San organization called ToCadi Trans Okavango Cultural Development Initiative, as well as the San council called Khwedam council. I’m also a member of the Indigenous Peoples of Africa Coordinating Committee; I am the regional chair as well as the deputy chair of the Southern African region. The Okavango in Botswana forms part of the broader landscape classified under Khazar, and the Okavango Delta is a traditional and historic home of the Khwe Basarwa Bushmen. Th e recent talks about land claims are about the SainteMarie Midgame Reserve, which is at the heart of the Okavango Delta. Inside the reserve, there is an island known as Chief ’s Island. The Tawana local Tribal authorities applied three years ago to the Tawana land board, who are the local authorities of the land. Our argument is that the land in question traditionally belongs to the San. These are the Xani Khwe and BukaKhwe speakers, who were forcefully evicted to establish the game reserve and since have been denied access to the land. Buka Khwe linguistically belongs to central Khwe San languages in Botswana. We have heard that the Tawana land board are expediting their process for possible allocation of the land in question to the chief. A few San organizations, including ToCadi, Khwedem Council, and others facilitated the submission of an objection to the Tawana land board; some of our members who put through the applications had them deferred o r rejected, but the matter is still ongoing. The land in question has a history of my people and t heir interactions on it. The San, like many other Indigenous Peoples, have an oral, unwritten history. This is the land where the Tswana, or Bantu, ethnic groups came to find us. Our forefathers used to hunt big game on these lands. We a re administered on the basis of that dominant Tswana group, which is completely alien to our ways of doing things, our ways of reasoning. This has for decades increased our marginalization. There were talks on making a game reserve here in Botswana Okavango Delta, which later became the Moremi Game Reserve. Everyone sided with the influence of the dominant Tswana of the chiefs. The San were not part of that development. Decisions were made and we were evicted. Some got killed in the process. The modern systems of government have forced us to assimilate to their ways and forego our own ways. They labeled our ways as not civilized and said that we live the life of Stone Age creatures and had to change while they took our land and our animals. Their ways of life were continually forced upon us, and we lost our land and our identity. Our prime land became protected areas, game reserves, national parks, forest reserves. Our land became the State land. We don’t own any form of land, we lost our economy, our cultures and ways of expression, and it has killed our hopes. We are calling now for negotiations to correct this historic brutality. We need resources for support: money, legal volunteers
Photo courtesy of Gakemotho Tikhwebe Satau.
for litigation on issues of identity, land rights, economic threats, and economic freedom. We want our governments, private organizations, the Southern African Development Community, and international organizations to help us make the State accountable for the negligence against the San. It is hypocritical for Botswana to be a member of the United Nations and be bound by human rights principles while on the ground they are guilty of depriving the San of their identity, their language, their lands, and their economy. W e are waiting for the land board to respond. If they do not respond favorably, we are going to take the matter to the land tribunal. If we are not satisfied, we are going to go to the high courts. We are going to go for the African Commission to engage further on this in order to make sure that the voices of the San are heard. The San should be looked at as shareholders in this process. We need support to help us achieve a meaningful dialogue in the issues of land, acquiring land rights, our identity, and representation in decision making bodies.
Reducing Carbon Emissions and Restoring Biodiversity in Ogoni Land
Lokiaka Community Development Centre
Mangrove saplings are ferried for participant restoration practicums.
The Ogoni in the Niger Delta region in Nigeria face threats to their livelihood as the quality of their land depletes and the biodiversity of the local ecosystem deteriorates due to oil and gas extraction on their territories. Their farmlands are less fertile and integral plants are becoming extinct, escalating food insecurity. Through a grant from the Keepers of the Earth Fund (KOEF) to the Lokiaka Community Development Centre, volunteers at Lokiaka worked to replenish the land by conducting two intensive training sessions with Ogoni women. Workshops taught 65 women farmers the skills to start mangrove and fruit tree nurseries and trained 55 women to make fuel efficient stoves out of clay. Lokiaka emphasizes the role of Indigenous women farmers in maintaining the health of the land and ecosystem to ensure that women are recognized as important stewards of the land. With the aid of KOEF’s resources, Lokiaka helped Ogoni women utilize their natural resources to improve their living standards while reducing carbon emissions, deforestation, and climate change. The population of mangroves in the Niger Delta Region has substantially diminished due to clearings for commercial agriculture, urban construction, pollution caused by artisanal refining, oil spills, and runoff containing chemical and biological contaminants. Additionally, the changing climate has brought an influx of cyclones, hurricanes, and tsunamis that cause severe damage to the mangrove population. Mangroves are extremely versatile in their usage for the Ogoni people as they can be used as water resistant wood for buildings and furniture, serve as domestic fuel, protect shorelines from erosion, and filter pollutants to maintain water quality. Participants learned about sustainable nursing of mangrove propagules and how to transport them within the mangrove swamp forest of Kwawa. The women also learned how to preserve seedlings in fruit tree nurseries; encouraging plant growth in these
communities combats food insecurity and health issues. Many women also cultivate medicinal plants and local herbs to remedy illnesses. Barisi Dumbor, a participant from Kegbara Dere in the Gokana Local Government Area of Rivers State, raised several nurseries of palm nut, fruit trees, and mangroves. This is one of the most polluted areas in Ogoni, but Indigenous women trained by Lokiaka effectively utilize their resources to grow and harvest plants here. Instead of buying seeds, she gathers them from waste dumping grounds, under fruit trees, and from the fruit she eats herself. Nursery cultivation has proven to be a low cost and highly effective way to increase her income through farming: “Raising fruit tree nurseries is new to me, and it has helped to put food on my table and helped train my two boys,” Dumbor commented. “Now I know that I do not need to have farmland before starting my agriculture business. Even my veranda and garden can give me money today, and I’m happy.” Namon Grace Nwidee, another training beneficiary, said, “I agree with the resource person who said planting trees will wipe away our tears and would drive away hunger in t he land.” In addition to increasing food accessibility in Ogoni, women also practice sustainable farming and forest management techniques to combat deforestation and mitigate climate change. Participants were able to support plant nurseries despite the harsh weather conditions and insecurity within their provinces with the help of Lokiaka’s training a nd resources. However, women in the Nyokhana district, t he largest and most remote area in Ogoni, were unable to maintain their nurseries due to violence and conflict. Th e second training Lokiaka offered taught Ogoni women how to make fuel efficient stoves. Many older women are potters, but the practice is less common among younger generations. The technology of clay stoves is transforming the skills of the potters into a valuable asset for the community. Producing and using these stoves reduced 55 households’ dependency on forest wood for heat and energy, lowering carbon emissions. The stoves also serve as a stepping stone towards the implementation of forest conservation and more sustainable, environmentally friendly practices. Th e importance of Indigenous women farmers cannot be overstated. With this work, the Ogoni community is contributing to climate resilience in several ways. Mangroves are among the most carbon rich tropical forests and can store twice as much carbon on a per area basis as salt marshes, preventing carbon from escaping into the atmosphere as a greenhouse gas. Carbon storage also results in the accretion of sediment, allowing the coastline to keep up with rising water levels. By training Ogoni women in sustainable agricultural practices, their knowledge of conservational forest practices will continue to rejuvenate the local ecosystems and improve the health of Ogoni communities.
Zapatista Radio
Broadcasting for Autonomy and Self-determination
Over the last decade, Zapatista communities have developed a massive communication project reaching more than 1,000 communities and rancherías across their entire territory in Chiapas, Mexico. More than a dozen radio stations located in this mountainous and autonomous region are broadcasting about their struggles and the rights of the local Maya Peoples. The Zapatista radio stations were established in 2009 as part of a larger autonomy process to denounce social injustices in their communities. Collectively, they are supporting the revitalization and promotion of Maya cultural practices threatened by globalization, and defending lands, territory, and the autonomy of authorities in the villages. A s a means of communication dedicated to serving the people, these stations had the objective of broadcasting in the native languages of the region: Tzeltal, Tsotsil, Tojolabal, and Cho (in addition to Spanish), not only to revitalize those languages but to promote a sense of identity and pride in their people. For the stations, it has always been important to create a sustainable media that strengthens their self-determination. As part of a political stance and in the exercise of their autonomy, the Zapatista radio stations have chosen not to apply for a community or Indigenous radio concession since it became possible to acquire one in Mexico. The stations have trained community members in both on-air and behind the scenes skills. Since the beginning, men and women of all ages have been invited to participate equally; both adults and youth pass through the broadcast booths. Due to societal and familial demands, many women end up leaving their positions. In response, the stations have sought to provide them with more training to foster their independence and enhance their ability to solve technical problems. A ccess to essential equipment has been another challenge for the stations. New needs constantly arise, such as the r elocation of transmission towers to improve radio coverage, updates to mixers and computers, and repair or replacement of damaged transmission equipment. With the support of Cultural Survival’s Community Media Grants Program, several stations have been able to address these needs. In addition to renovating equipment, stations have organized trainings for women to encourage their increasing technological self-sufficiency. W ith the grant, new radio members have been trained in voiceover, editing, and production workshops taught by senior members of each station. These trainings, organized according to the particular needs and number of new members at each station, will continue through the end of the year. Although the project was originally intended to cover only three stations in one of the Zapatista zones, the communities decided to include all their radio stations throughout their territory of influence. Community radio addresses, and often denounces, issues of concern to Indigenous Peoples that affect business and government interests. There is currently a great concern about the implementation of large infrastructure and extractive projects throughout the country promoted by the government of President Andrés Manuel López Obrador. These projects will involve the encroachment and dispossession of territories where many Indigenous Peoples live, threatening their cultures, lives, and natural resources. Among many projects, three stand out: the so-called Mayan Train, whose construction and operation will have serious effects on the ecosystems of the entire Mexican southeast; the Morelos Integral Project, which already affects Indigenous Peoples in several states in the center of the country; and the Commercial and Railway Corridor of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, which is intended to connect the Pacific with the Atlantic, and will affect communities of Oaxaca and Veracruz. Also of concern is the breach by the Mexican government of the right to Free, Prior and Informed Consent (FPIC) and culturally appropriate consultation of Indigenous Peoples regarding these initiatives. The rejection of these projects by many Indigenous communities and organizations has been met with repression, threats, and murders, including that of Samir Flores Soberanes, a Nahuatl environmental defender and community organizer who opposed the Morelos Integral Project and was shot dead at his home in February 2019. Through messages, songs, radio theater, and poems, community radio raises awareness about the care and defense of Mother Earth, respect for women, health, children’s rights, the value of culture, and the true history of Indigenous Peoples. It also promotes the prevention of alcoholism, supports the organization of Indigenous Peoples, and strengthens the system of self-governance of the Zapatista Peoples.
Z apatista radio stations are organizing trainings for women to solve technical problems.
Seeking Justice for Indigenous Peoples Carla Fredericks
Cultural Survival is excited to announce our newest board member, Carla Fredericks (Mandan, Hidatsa, and Arikara Nations). Fredericks is the director of the American Indian Law Clinic at the University of Colorado Law School and the director of First Peoples Worldwide, a program with the University of Colorado Leeds School of Business. She is a graduate of the University of Colorado and Columbia Law School. A t the age of seven, Fredericks’ family moved from an affluent suburb of Washington, D.C. to the Pine Ridge Reservation in northwestern North Dakota. “That was a huge wake up call and culture shock,” she recalls. “We went to the rez school. We lived in a two bedroom HUD track housing house. From then, I understood my Indianness and my obligations to my own people. In college, I took every Native American class that they had. I went to law school wanting to do work in repatriation because that’s when the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act was passed. I ended up getting pulled into public interest litigation.” Today, Fredericks serves as counsel for the Native American law firm Fredericks, Peebles and Morgan LLP. She is chair of the Board of Trustees for the Mashantucket Pequot (Western) Endowment Trust, and is a founding board member of Unreserved, the Native American Fashion and Art Alliance. Reflecting on her everyday work, she says, “The great thing about running the American Indian Law Clinic at the University of Colorado School and then also directing First Peoples Worldwide is we get to mobilize students as part of their educational experience alongside communities to try to effect social change for Indigenous Peoples and protection of their rights.” The movement that was created in opposition to the Keystone Pipeline, which came to be known as Standing Rock, was a key moment for Indigenous rights. “We’re still experiencing that moment; it’s not over. Indigenous people are articulating their rights in a very different way than in the past. This resurgence of Indigenous self-determination and selfexpression is happening in real time right now. There has to be a decolonization process because the whole system that Indigenous people must engage with to have their rights protected is a system constructed against their best interests. State parties and outside entities must respect Indigenous rights, but they also need to look within to see how their institutions and organizations were built to disrespect Indigenous rights and there needs to be a dismantling of those processes,” Fredericks says, adding, “I’m really encouraged by Indigenous youth and activists who are open to reconstructing institutions in a way that’s very different from my generation, where we just accepted the institutional realities. They’re much more
Carla Fredericks (center) with former Cultural Survival Executive Director Suzanne Benally (Santa Clara Tewa/ Navajo) and UN Special Rapporteur on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples Victoria Tauli-Corpuz (Igorot).
willing to turn things over and pull them apart. It is very necessary.” The American Indian Law Clinic is one of the oldest law clinics in the country. In addition to the clinic’s deep engagement with Standing Rock, Fredericks says the institution has worked with several Tribes on problems of human trafficking related to fossil fuel development on their reservations. It is also assisting activists in Hawai’i in the Mauna Kea case (where Indigenous protectors are protesting the construction of the Thirty Meter Telescope on a sacred mountain), and the Gwich’in Peoples regarding drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. “To be entrusted with that work and to have engaged students in that work has been incredibly humbling and meaningful to us all,” she says. Fir st Peoples Worldwide focuses on Indigenous Peoples’ interaction with business interests, to prevent harm and to mobilize Indigenous communities to develop their economies, gain access to capital, and to develop their resources in a selfdetermined way. “We are deeply in conversation with communities about how to engage with companies, and we provide toolkits to communities and companies on obtaining Free, Prior and Informed Consent (FPIC). Our new endeavor is to model a private equity fund specific to Tribal renewable energy development. We are creating a vehicle for social impact investors to provide capital to Tribal projects to develop renewable energy resources in a sustainable way,” she explains. Through the Clinic, Fredericks has partnered extensively with Cultural Survival over the years on human rights reporting to the United Nations. On her newest role as a board member, she says, “I’m excited to join the board because I have a very deep respect for the organization after working with you all for many years. I want to find ways to support the organization to be as strong as it can be, finding potential for meaningful collaboration and philanthropy, and to have Cultural Survival really emerge as the leader in this space.”
Bazaar artist: Taleo Handmade Indigenous Women Keeping Weaving Traditions Alive L–R: Lan (Hmong), Taleo Handmade artisan partner, splicing hemp fibers. Chai (Hmong), artisan partner, drawing batik on handwoven hemp. Bouathong (Tai Lue), artisan partner, dyeing cotton thread in natural indigo.
Taleo Handmade works with weavers, natural dyers, b atik artisans, and embroiderers from remote villages in L aos and Vietnam. A fair trade business, Taleo Handmade derives its name from the Lao word taleo, the woven bamboo talisman used to protect homes and communities from spirits. In this spirit of protection, Taleo Handmade focuses on empowering women through economic opportunity, maintaining Indigenous traditions, and protecting the environment through the use of natural and sustainable materials and zero waste design. “Tai Lue women are famous for our weaving. I learned to weave when I was 7 years old from my mother. Every Tai Lue girl learns to weave. We have looms under our houses, which are built on stilts. We weave our own sinhs, traditional Lao skirts and we weave shawls to wear to the temple,” says Bouathong (Tai Lue), a weaver and Taleo Handmade artisan partner in Laos. Taleo Handmade’s artisan partners produce textiles unique t o their ethnic groups. Founder Sally Strasser explains the process: “Hmong women [in Laos and Vietnam] grow, process, and weave hemp as the base material for their traditional clothing. They decorate it with hand drawn Hmong motifs in beeswax and dye it in natural indigo. The cloth is then boiled to remove the wax, revealing complex designs, a technique known as batik.” Taleo Handmade creates pillows, table runners, and bags from exquisite Hmong batik and embroidery. Their designs are sewn by women in small family owned workshops in Hanoi, Vietnam and Vientiane, Laos. Taleo Handmade is committed to compensating both their artisan partners and their finishing seamstresses with fair trade wages. Through their fair trade practices, Lan (Hmong), one of Taleo’s artisan partners in Vietnam, says she is able to send her three young daughters to school—something that her family was unable to provide for her when she was young. “Hmong people in Vietnam face many challenges,” Lan says. “We can only grow one rice crop per year because we live in the mountains and it is too cold to grow rice much of the year. We cannot grow enough rice to feed our families, so we have to supplement our income, but there are not many jobs for Hmong people. We like to sell our handicrafts and used clothing to get extra income for our families.” She adds, “Hmong clothing is a reflection of our culture; it is a very important part of our identity. We believe that hemp fabric will help to guide our spirits to heaven after we die. The Hmong symbols in our batik and embroidery tell the story of our culture.” Another Indigenous Peoples in Laos, the Khmu, are renowned for their hand knotted bags made from a locally foraged liana vine. Khmu women gather the vine after the rainy season, strip it into raffia-like fibers, twist the fibers into thread, and hand knot it, a technique traditionally used for fishnets and tumpline bags. They sell their work to tourists and to shops in Laos, but it is the consistent orders from Taleo Handmade that provide a sustainable income for Khmu women. Taleo pairs their vine products with Hmong hemp fabric to create one-of-a-kind bags and pouches, which enables their Khmu artisan partners to sell more of their work. T ai Lue women, also of Laos, are expert weavers and natural dyers specializing in indigo. Bouathong explains, “We grow our own cotton, process and spin it into thread, and weave it. We use all natural dyes for our cotton, specializing in indigo, which we also grow. We use turmeric root, tamarind seeds, sappan wood, lemongrass, and other roots, flowers, and seeds for our natural colors.” The weavers hand spin the cotton into thread and dye the skeins of thread in natural dyes. They weave shawls in traditional complex patterns and scarves in a simpler plain weave that highlights the texture of their handspun thread and the subtlety of the natural colors. Bouathong says she “is proud of the Tai Lue weaving traditions and is grateful that people from other countries appreciate my work.” Taleo Handmade is dedicated to assisting their artisan partners in reaching a broader market for their extraordinary textiles. Supporting the work of Indigenous women in Laos and Vietnam, enables their families to access better education, nutrition and healthcare, and ensures that their textile traditions are passed down to the next generation.
Check out our Summer Cultural Survival Bazaars: July 18-19, 2020 in Newburyport, MA, and July 25-26, 2020 in Tiverton, RI For more information, visit: bazaar.cs.org
Cultural Survival Thanks to your support in 2019
Funded 20 projects in 10 countries, totaling $79,864, to support Indigenous Peoples’ community advocacy and development projects
Supported 6 groups of Youth Fellows in community media
Trained 80+ Indigenous women in radio production and journalism
Released more than 160 radio programs on Indigenous rights to 1,000+ stations in 69 countries
Submitted 8 reports to the Universal Periodic Review (UPR) and UN Treaty Bodies on human rights issues in El Salvador, Honduras, Panama, Mexico, Chile, Colombia, and the U.S.
Cultural Survival Bazaars generated over $493,358 for Indigenous artists and communities
Cultural Survival Bazaars hosted over 65 artists representing over 4,500 Indigenous craftspeople from more than 30 countries
