Wild Rice Harvest Restores a Native Tradition

  • Chloe Aldred is one of many kids learning the tradition of harvesting wild rice. (Photo by Rebecca Williams)

For thousands of years, Native American tribes in the Great Lakes region have been harvesting wild rice. They call it manoomin.

But over the past few centuries, this tradition has been dying out. The rice beds have been shrinking, and the cultural knowledge has been disappearing. Many tribes were forced to relocate away from the wild rice beds. Starting in the 1870s, some children were taken from their families, into boarding schools. They were given English names and cut off from their culture and from the knowledge of how to harvest rice.

In Michigan, some people are trying to bring the tradition back.

Native Wild Rice Coalition

More about “The Good Berry”

The Lac Vieux Desert Band of Lake Superior Chippewa

Video of the Manoomin Project for at risk teens

Transcript

Roger LaBine is a member of the Lac Vieux Desert band of Lake Superior Chippewa. He says manoomin is central to his ancestors’ migration story.

“And they were presented in visions with seven prophecies and we would know where our homeland would be when we found this food that grows on the water, which is the manoomin.”

(paddling sound)

Here, on Tubbs Lake near Mecosta, you can still find wild rice. The rice beds look like a bright green meadow growing on the water. It’s the perfect spot for Wild Rice Camp. About 50 people are here, young and old, tribal and non-tribal. They’re here to learn how to harvest and process the rice.

Barb Barton is one of the camp’s instructors.

“So to harvest rice you use cedar ricing sticks, they look like shortened pool cues. You pull rice over the boat and knock the rice into the boat.”

(snd of knocking rice)

After a couple hours on the lake, everyone heads back to camp to process the rice.

Charley Fox has been ricing since he was nine years old. He’s showing us how to soften the rice in a copper kettle.

(snd under)

“It takes the moisture out of the rice kernel, gets the outer shaft brittle to where you can roll it in your fingers. it’s a golden color, it’s ready to go, ready for the next stage where they dance on it!”

Saige Mackay is 11 years old. She’s in a little pit, wearing moccasins.

“I’m dancing on the rice. It shells the rice so you don’t have the husks on it, like husking corn.”

(dancing sound under)

Then it’s on to the winnowing stage. That’s where they use birch baskets to separate the husks from the rice. Then they clean the rice, and it’s finally ready to eat.

Zhawan Sprague is the daughter of a tribal chairman.

“My dad really wanted me to learn more about how to like, harvest rice, so I’m really excited how it’s going to end out.”

A lot of people here are first timers.

Roger LaBine says he loves having all the kids around.

He says to the Anishinaabe people, everything has a spirit. He says the spirit of the manoomin is glad to have them back.

“It’s been waiting for us. By us coming out here and harvesting this rice, it’s helping us to enhance it. Not only the rice bed but it’s a healing process for us, it gives us that incentive to carry it on. We need that. It’s our identity. It’s almost like a language, we lose our identity if we lose our language, if we lose our dance, if we lose our drum.”

LaBine says on the last day of camp, they’ll return one day’s harvest back to the water, to re-seed the rice beds for next year.

“And say thank you, Miigwetch, give us all that we need and no more than we need so that we can carry this on.”

Rebecca Williams, The Environment Report

Native Americans Lose Land to Climate Change

  • Choctaw Chief Albert Naquin has watched his tribe's island - the Isle de Jean Charles - go from four miles across to a quarter mile across. (Photo by Samara Freemark)

Over the next century, rising
sea levels will change coastlines
all over the world. But the impact
might be most dramatic in South
Louisiana. A study out last month
predicts the state will lose up to
5000 square miles in the next
century – a chunk of land the size
of Connecticut. If the report’s
authors are right, that means a
lot of people in Louisiana are
going to have to relocate – become
climate refugees. Samara Freemark has the story of one of
the first communities to be displaced:

Transcript

Over the next century, rising sea levels will change coastlines all over the world. But the impact might be most dramatic in South Louisiana. A study out last month predicts the state will lose up to 5000 square miles in the next century – a chunk of land the size of Connecticut. If the report’s authors are right, that means a lot of people in Louisiana are going to have to relocate – become climate refugees. Samara Freemark has the story of one of the first communities to be displaced:

It was sometime in the mid-1970s that Albert Naquin first realized that Isle de Jean Charles was sinking. Naquin had grown up on the island. He’s the chief of a group of Choctaws who have lived there since the 19th century – and when he was a kid, it was a pretty good community: it had stores, a couple of churches, horse pastures and fields. But those are all gone now.

“Salt water kept coming in, faster and faster, and now it’s basically just beach.”

Isle de Jean Charles is sinking into the Gulf of Mexico.

The list of reasons why is long. There’s subsidence- that’s the natural phenomenon where delta regions kind of settle down on themselves. There are the dams that block the sediment that used to wash down and build the land back up. There are oil company canals that slice through the wetlands, hurricanes that tear up the island’s coastline, and, of course, there’s rising sea levels.

All together they explain why Isle de Jean Charles used to be about 4 miles across and now has shrunk to a quarter mile.

“Now, we see the disaster that is Isle de Jean.”

We’re in Naquin’s pickup truck, and he’s driving me out to the island.

“See this little house moved across the way, this house. These 1, 2, 3 are deserted.”

Naquin himself moved off the island awhile ago. But for years he was happy to support families who chose to stay. In fact, when the US government came to him in 2002 and offered to pay to help people move off the island, he resisted.

“So, I said, ‘what they gonna do, tell us they’re gonna move us there and then next thing send us a bill for the house?’ You know, so I said, ‘no, that’s just a modern day Trail of Tears. We’re not moving.’”

But lately Naquin has just gotten tired. Tired of evacuating people before storms, tired of helping them rebuild after, tired of watching the sea nibble away at the island.

And so he decided – enough. For the past year he’s been on a mission to convince the 25 families still living on the island to abandon it.

“They’re not going to save the island. It’s going to be gone. Either we move now or we move later, ‘cause we will move.”

But not everyone is ready to leave.

(sound of greeting and talking)

Naquin pulls over to talk to Dominique Dardar.

Dardar’s house was leveled by Hurricane Gustav last summer. He’s rebuilding it with pieces of other houses he’s found blowing around the island- bits of roof and siding. Dardar says he’s not moving.

“I ain’t never gonna move. I’m gonna stay over here. That’s my territory.”

Across the street Wenselas Billiot lives in a house raised 13 feet in the air.

Billiot is Naquin’s brother in law. He’s in his 80s and has lived on the island his whole life. I ask him what he’ll do if the island shrinks any more.

“That’s going to be rough. But, as long as I can stay, I’ll stay. I was born and raised on the island. As long as I can stay here I’m going to stay.”

Albert Naquin hasn’t given up. He thinks if he can get everyone to agree, the government will help the tribe get a big piece of land where they can all relocate as a group. He’s already thinking of names for the new town.

“We could say, Island Number Two, or Isle de Jean Charles New Beginning, or something like that. But I think we just name it Isle de Jean Charles 2. I think that has a good sound to it.”

In short, Naquin is trying to figure out how to keep the idea of Isle de Jean Charles alive, even when the island itself no longer exists.

It’s a challenge many Louisiana communities could soon face.

For The Environment Report, I’m Samara Freemark.

Related Links

Saving Salmon From Sea Lions

  • Bobby Begay has been patrolling the Columbia River below Bonneville Dam for the past three years, hazing sea lions. (Photo by Sadie Babits)

The Columbia River in the Pacific Northwest historically has been a super highway for salmon. But dams, development, and pollution have taken their toll on salmon. The fish have declined to the point that several species are endangered. Now the salmon face another threat, sea lions. As Sadie Babits reports wildlife managers are trying to get rid of the sea lions to protect the salmon:

Transcript

The Columbia River in the Pacific Northwest historically has been a super highway for salmon. But dams, development, and pollution have taken their toll on salmon. The fish have declined to the point that several species are endangered. Now the salmon face another threat, sea lions. As Sadie Babits reports wildlife managers are trying to get rid of the sea lions to protect the salmon:

Bobby Begay steers his small boat up the Columbia River. He knows this river, and he
knows the salmon. His ties to the salmon go back generations.

As a member of the Yakima Tribe, he comes out here to tribal fishing sites to catch
salmon. It’s something Indians along the Columbia River have been doing for thousands
of years. He says the salmon are considered sacred food.

“It’s part of our livelihood. It’s part of our health and well being.”

They use the salmon to feed everyone from the tribal elders to the children. Tribal
fishermen tell stories of seeing so many salmon in the Columbia River that you could
walk across their backs. Those days are gone.

A series of dams on the river make it hard for fish to get from the Pacific Ocean to fresh
water and back again. The salmon have fallen victim to over-fishing, agricultural
pollution, and habitat destruction. Pacific salmon are now listed as endangered. And they
face yet another threat on the Columbia River – sea lions.

“Sea lions have probably always been in the Columbia but not to this extent and have
done damage to salmon populations like it has and all of it is due because of a man-made
structure, which is Bonneville Dam.”

Sea lion numbers have exploded along the Pacific Coast. And more than a thousand of
them travel up the Columbia River looking for food. Some of them have figured out that
if they gather at the base of Bonneville Dam, they can easily catch salmon that are trying
to pass by.

Biologists estimate that every year sea lions eat some 13,000 salmon. This year, the
federal government gave state wildlife agencies in Oregon, Washington and Idaho, the go
ahead to kill up to 85 sea lions.

Begay won’t really talk about whether he thinks this is right. He’s torn.

“Well, ah, sea lion is a spiritual animal not only to us but to coastal tribes and we respect
the animal as it is, but also the salmon is a scared food to us as Columbia River Indians.”

So Begay works to protect the salmon without killing the sea lions. He works for the
Columbia River Inter-Tribal Fish Commission.

That’s why he’s out here in this boat. He patrols the river most days using fireworks to
scare sea lions away from the salmon.

Crew: “There he is 1 o’clock, 50 yards.”

(sound of gun shots and boat)

Begay’s crew shoots firecrackers over the sea lion.

“And hopefully we’ll get them into the main stem of the river and start hazing them down
stream.”

“The hazing really is not highly effective. The animals are really quick to learn.”

Robin Brown is a marine mammal researcher for the Oregon Department of Fish and
Wildlife.

Brown says they’ve euthanized seven sea lions this year. He says the decision to kill a sea
lion is made after everything else has failed.

“We have to have observed them killing salmon and steelhead, and they have to have
been exposed to all the non-lethal methods of harassment that you’ve observed here
today and shown that that isn’t detouring them from being here and feeding.”

The Humane Society opposes killing the sea lions. It’s asked the courts to put a stop to it.
While this legal battle plays out, Bobby Begay will keep hazing the sea lions until the end
of May.

That’s when the sea lions leave the dam and head back down the Columbia River to the
Pacific Coast to breed.

For The Environment Report, I’m Sadie Babits.

Related Links

Tribes Talk Climate Change

Many Native American tribes say
they want to be part of the national debate
over climate change legislation. The
tribes at least have the attention of the
US EPA. Chuck Quirmbach reports:

Transcript

Many Native American tribes say
they want to be part of the national debate
over climate change legislation. The
tribes at least have the attention of the
US EPA. Chuck Quirmbach reports:

The tribes are worried about climate change. They think it might be affecting natural resources
like wild rice beds, fish habitat and animals they hunt to feed their people.


The tribes got some provisions into a major climate change bill that recently failed in Congress.
They’re now preparing their arguments for the next go-round on Capitol Hill.

Stephen Hartsfield is with the National Tribal Air Association. He says one thing the Native
communities want is more incentives to produce cleaner energy – such as solar power in the
Southwest US.

“ We have 300 days of sunshine a year – so it just makes logical sense for tribes and states and
communities in the Southwest to look at those opportunities.”

At a meeting with Great Lakes area tribes in Milwaukee, an EPA official said it’ll be up to
Congress and the Obama Administration to determine how much clout the tribes will have in the
debate.

For The Environment Report, I’m Chuck Quirmbach.

Related Links

Preserving Indian Mounds

  • Roger and Margaret Martin visit the effigy and burial mounds. (Photo by Brian Bull)

Historians, archaeologists, and Native American tribes are fighting to save ancient
mounds. The mounds are found scattered across much of North America. These
earthen, man-made formations mark the presence of prehistoric, indigenous people. But,
Brian Bull reports many are disappearing because of development or neglect:

Transcript

Historians, archaeologists, and Native American tribes are fighting to save ancient
mounds. The mounds are found scattered across much of North America. These
earthen, man-made formations mark the presence of prehistoric, indigenous people. But,
Brian Bull reports many are disappearing because of development or neglect:



Jay Toth is walking through the Kingsley-Bend Indian Mounds site. Toth is an
archeologist with the Ho-Chunk tribe in Wisconsin. He surveys nearly 30 mounds here,
including several that he says contain human remains. Toth says these mounds range
from 800 to 2000 years old, and are considered sacred, which is why Toth isn’t happy
when a man lets his dog use one for a bathroom:


“There’s a sign right there…”



“The guy saw the sign coming in, he didn’t bother…think that’s a good reflection on why
mounds are continually destroyed. There’s just no consideration.”


The tribe has painstakingly restored and maintained this site with its own money. But
Toth says out of 20,000 groups of mounds across Wisconsin alone, only a quarter
survive today. Many are still being desecrated or destroyed by construction and
development:


“It’s just too bad that we don’t have the respect for the religious aspects of what these are
all about. No one would expect the Ho-Chunk Nation or
any other tribe to go in and buy up public cemeteries and subdivide it up for housing
development, but somehow mound sites and other native burial seem to be okay.”


And it’s not just in Wisconsin. Similar problems exist for Indian mounds in other states,
including Ohio, Illinois, Minnesota, and Tennessee. Development is supposed to stop if a
mound is discovered, but authorities can only act on the calls they receive.


Samantha Greendeer is a Ho-Chunk attorney. She’s working with tribal, state, and federal
officials to revive legislation first introduced by West Virginia Congressman Nick Rahall.
It would proactively protect burial mounds, rather than after they’re disturbed:


“We seem to have to deal with this a little bit more just because a lot of the old ancestral
mounds and burials of native people are not in organized European-type cemeteries that
are zoned and properly accounted for. They don’t get that extra
bit of protection that a normal burial site would get.”


If passed, the federal government would have to deal with Native American and Native
Hawaiian tribes before taking action that would affect any land deemed sacred. Attitudes
about the mounds are changing.


(Sound of jackhammers)


Construction workers are tearing up old concrete foundations, to help set up new
buildings on the University of Wisconsin campus. But it’s a different story near the
University observatory. Campus developers plan to displace newer structures with the
older architecture. Gary Brown points to a sidewalk built in the 1950s. It’s right next to a
centuries-old bird effigy mound which some Native Americans still use for ceremonies:


“We’ll be coming back several feet away from the edges of the mound, carefully remove
the sidewalk, reconstruct the sidewalk a little bit further away. It’ll be a lot of hand labor,
there won’t be a lot of major big machinery…”


And moving the sidewalk will create a buffer zone to help protect the ancient mound.



Some people outside of the tribes realized the value of the mounds decades ago.
Roger and Margaret Martin walk in the rain with umbrellas, to show several effigy and
burial mounds in their backyard:


“When friends come to visit, we take ’em out back and point them out…We’re standing
on the bird effigy, swept back from both sides are the bird’s wings…the one on the left is
much more pronounced.”


Back when the neighborhood was being built, most people flattened the mounds. But, he
Martins signed up with what’s called an archaeological covenant program. They’ve
promised not to alter the mounds on their property. They also get a tax break on any land
containing a mound.


The Martins say they’d like to begin a ceremony where they visit the mounds and think of
their makers, the early North American cultures. Such reverence means a lot to Ho-Chunk
archeologist Jay Toth, who says the formations are rich in meaning and history for his
people:


“These mounds represent the deed to the land for all Native Americans. This you can’t
take away.”


Toth and other preservationists hope Congress passes laws to better protect ancient
mounds. They hope in time that people come to regard both burial and effigy mounds as
items to preserve, rather than destroy.


For the Environment Report, I’m Brian Bull.

Related Links

Cash Strapped Biologists Lean on Volunteers

  • The lynx was recently considered extinct in Michigan until a trapper caught one. (Photo courtesy of USFWS)

For years, federal and state governments have cut funding for wildlife protection. That’s led to complaints from biologists who say they don’t have enough money to adequately do their jobs, but it’s also led to a new movement. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Celeste Headlee reports on how citizens are starting to take over duties once performed by trained scientists:

Transcript

For years, federal and state governments have cut funding for wildlife
protection. That’s led to complaints from biologists who say they don’t
have enough money to adequately do their jobs, but it’s also led to a new
movement. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Celeste Headlee
reports on how citizens are starting to take over duties once performed by
trained scientists:


Ray Rustem says wildlife biologists these days are often chained to their
desks.


“Years ago, when I first started with the Department of Natural
Resources, wildlife habitat biologists spent quite a bit of time in the field
actually doing fieldwork. With the types of things that are going on now,
they’ve become much more in getting the planning done and we’ve had
to shift some of that fieldwork done to the technician level. Frankly,
yeah, we could always use additional people out there.”


Rustem is with the Wildlife Division of the Michigan Department of
Natural Resources. He says state funding has fallen steadily for years,
and one way he’s made up the difference is by involving Michigan
citizens. Rustem says the DNR uses dozens of volunteers for its frog and
toad survey in the early part of the summer.


“This is our tenth year and we’ve got at least 120 people who’ve been
doing this all ten years. That’s a tremendous amount of data that’s being
provided for us on information about species and where they’re located.”


Many groups are now using so-called citizen scientists to collect data.
Sally Petrella is a biologist who works with the non-profit organization
the Friends of the Detroit River.


“We’ve cut out so much of the funding for regular science that there’s a
real lack, and citizen scientists can cover far more areas than
professionals can, at a much lower cost.”


Petrella is standing beside the murky, reed-choked waters of the Rouge
River Watershed. It’s home to six species of frogs and toads. Every
summer, Friends of the Detroit River enlists the help of 700 people to
listen for the creatures as they call to each other from the marshy
grasses.


Petrella is standing beside one of her more loyal volunteers… Al Sadler.
Sadler admits that part of the appeal is the walk along the banks of the
river… but he also believes that public participation in wildlife
protection has become an absolute necessity.


“I think that it’s required if we plan on keeping any wildlife areas
around. I think that if citizens don’t get involved, I think that people
won’t know what they’re going to miss, and before we know it, there
won’t be much wild places left.”


Sadler is a fairly typical citizen scientist. He has a day job as an engineer
and volunteers in his spare time, but there are also people with advanced
degrees in biology and wildlife management who are called citizen
scientists simply because they don’t work for the government.


Dennis Fijakowski is one of those people. He’s the executive director of
the Michigan Wildlife Conservancy.


“We can’t count on the government to do everything for us. We have to
be a part of the solution.”


Fijakowski says ordinary people have made important contributions to
wildlife conservation. He says the lynx was considered extinct in
Michigan until a trapper caught one, and a rare Great Gray Owl was
discovered on a national wildlife refuge last spring by a photographer.


“You look back at the conservation history of our state and it was citizen
led. All of the important, the milestone decisions, legislation… it was
citizen led.”


John Kostyack with the National Wildlife Federation says involving
citizen scientists is great, but…


“They’re not really a substitute for having staff in the wildlife agencies…
state and federal and tribal. Because they are the ones who are going to
take this initial data, which is going to be very rough from volunteers,
and then use it to decide upon where to take the research next.”


And there have been cases in which citizen scientists have clashed with
state and federal governments. They are consistently at odds with government
officials over issues related to global warming and the Michigan Wildlife
Conservancy is locked in a bitter battle with state biologists over whether
the state is home to a viable cougar population.


The Conservancy’s Dennis Fijakowski acknowledges that the union
between government biologists and citizen scientists may not always be
an easy one, but he says the involvement of residents in the protection of
their state’s wildlife can only be a good thing.


“Because all anyone of us wants is that we pass on a wild legacy to our
children and grandchildren… and we’re not going to if we don’t get our
acts together.”


Many organizations offer citizens the opportunity to get involved in data
collection, including the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.


For the GLRC, I’m Celeste Headlee.

Related Links

Tribal Governments Demand Role in Annex 2001

  • Water diversions from the Great Lakes concern many people, including Native Americans. Some are worried that their voices aren't being given equal weight. (Photo by Bartlomiej Stoinski)

Tribal and First Nation governments from the Great Lakes region say they’re being left out of negotiations to craft a sweeping new framework for regulating Great Lakes water. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Sarah Hulett reports:

Transcript

Tribal and First Nation governments from the Great Lakes region say they’re being left out of negotiations to craft a sweeping new framework for regulating Great Lakes water. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Sarah Hulett reports:


Representatives from about 75 Native American communities in the U.S. and Canada are demanding a more prominent role in the decision-making process for the agreement known as Annex 2001. The agreement aims to limit Great Lakes diversion. But many tribal groups say the draft agreement is weak.


The Council of Great Lakes Governors says it plans to invite tribal groups to a forum shortly after the New Year. Frank Ettawageshik is the tribal chair of the Little Traverse Bay Bands of Odawa Indians, in northern michigan. Ettawageshik says he has yet to see the offer. But he says tribal governments don’t just want to be consulted as Indian communities.


“Of course, the governments are made up of many communities. But it’s not just a matter of wanting community input. It’s a matter of wanting input at a government-to-government level.”


The Council of Great Lakes Governors is handling Annex negotiations. The eight governors and two premiers are expected to sign the agreement sometime next year.


For the Great Lakes Radio Consortium, I’m Sarah Hulett.

Related Links

Convening Great Lakes Cleanup Summit

  • In an effort to eliminate invasive species and pollution from the Great Lakes, a summit to organize cleanup initatives will soon be underway. (Photo courtesy of USGS.gov)

State and federal officials will meet soon to take
the next step on organizing clean up projects in the Great Lakes. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Chuck Quirmbach reports:

Transcript

State and federal officials will meet soon to take the next step on organizing clean-up projects in the Great Lakes. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Chuck Quirmbach reports:


EPA administrator Mike Leavitt is in charge of a task force reviewing spending on about 140 Great Lakes programs. He’s been meeting with key parties and says he’s now ready for a summit with Great Lakes governors, mayors, tribal leaders and members of Congress. The meeting will be in Chicago. In a talk with environmental reporters, Leavitt said one goal will be to set up nine working groups on issues like invasive species, and non-point pollution.


“…and we will begin the process over the course of a year – not to stop or to stall – but to build on what’s already occuring into very concise action plans on the Great Lakes.”


Leavitt says it may be a very complex environmental collaboration. The National Wildlife Federation praises Leavitt for meeting with the various parties. But the environmental group says the EPA should plan on spending more money to clean up the Great Lakes.


For the Great Lakes Radio Consoritum, I’m Chuck Quirmbach.

Related Links

Capturing Chippewa History

New technology is being used to expose students in the
Great Lakes states to the history and ways of the six Chippewa
tribes of the Lake Superior region. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s
Mike Simonson reports … the C-D ROM, created with the help from tribal
leaders, has been six years in the making: