Authorities observe from the top of Turtle Island a massive prayer circle following demonstrations, November 24th. - Photo by Amaya McKenna
OCETI SAKOWIN CAMP, N.D. - Reminiscent of pages from history textbooks, a militarized company of state and national police occupy the sacred burial ground Turtle Island Thursday, November 24th. Donning bulletproof vests, armed with rifles and tear gas, they peer through shielded riot helmets down at thousands of water protectors holding hands in prayer and solidarity.
This scene represents a 500-year-old conflict between the United States government and the indigenous people of these lands. The difference being today’s battle is fought in the name of corporate profit rather than manifest destiny
Tuesday morning, November 22nd, forty-something water protectors including myself departed from Durango Colorado to join in solidarity and prayerful demonstration with the people of the Oceti Sakowin camp.
Durango to Standing Rock caravan leaving Fort Lewis College to pick up more cars in Denver, before completing the journey to the Oceti Sakowin camp. - Photo by Becky Clausen
As we reached the camp, we were each swept away by the powerful energy of the masses joining together for a single cause. I am by no means a religious person, but I can say with confidence that as we were welcomed ‘home,’ with warm smiles, I was as close to a higher power as I have been.
Many of my companions on the trip were native, and many, myself included, were not. Though we each came from different backgrounds and had different personal attachments to the cause, we stood shoulder to shoulder in defense of water as a human right.
Driving down Flag Road, the wind whipping the colors of hundreds of tribes and communities, the gravity of the situation settled in my gut. This isn’t a protest, this is a society. An international village of people from all backgrounds coming together to defend the source of human life and civilization: water.
This village came together in defense of the Earth and its native people. For the first time in my life, I witnessed the true power of numbers, presence, and energy. The people fearlessly confronting immoral profit. Water protectors stood together arm in arm and risked safety and freedom to defend our connection to the powers greater than us.
In this moment in western history, I have felt myself and seen in my peers, a nihilistic and submissive relationship to the powers that be. The capitalistic, mechanical structuring of our lives and experiences have sapped my generation of any sort of purpose, and we are waking up to that reality.
Water protector John Moya peacefully demonstrating, November 24th - Photo by Breeah Kinsella
The pipeline has been an alarm clock, violently shaking us from our dreamy sense of American liberty and equality. It's become too painfully obvious to avoid any further. No longer can we existentially cope with the fact that we live in an immoral world. No longer can we ignore the truth. And no longer will we bow down to corporate agendas that sacrifice the peaceful and sovereign people indigenous to this nation.
After returning, I have felt a real sense of loneliness. At the Oceti Sakowin camp, the norm is community, and that energy was infectious. Our caravan of forty-something strangers almost immediately developed into a family and it was a magical thing to be a part of. Coming back to Durango, I recognize how individualistic our society is, and I have since been longing for that sense of community.
More than anything, I recognized the amount of understanding and inner-peace we willfully cast away in our western society. Focused on making ends means, and satisfying others expectations, we become alienated from ourselves, our communities, and our earth. This experience at the Oceti Sakowin camp has made it apparent to me and thousands of others that we must protect indigenous people and their traditions, because without their guidance we will continue to isolate ourselves from earth and spirit.
That Thursday; a holiday many believe represents peace between natives and settlers, thousands of water protectors linked arms, held hands, and sang in prayer. We prayed not only for our own victory, we prayed for the authorities who are so disconnected from their earth and their community that they defend the black snake at the cost of their fellow human beings. We asked them to join us, and we told them that we love them.
As the sun set, as the energy from our prayers reached its climax, for a brief moment it appeared that the police were backing away, and for that moment, from my perspective, it seemed that we had won. Some removed their helmets in respect, some retreated behind Turtle Island and allowed us to practice our demonstration without the looming threat of conflict. For a second, they appeared human.
Thursday night, hours after this moment of respect, those same officers advanced their occupation, apathetically marching atop sacred burial grounds to erect razor fencing around Turtle Island.
The next morning I woke up to return to the front lines and was disgusted by what I saw. The recently established barrier was an absolute disgrace to the peaceful prayer demonstrated the evening before. I recognized there was no respect here, only psychological and emotional manipulation. A patronizing and immoral means to an end.
Water protector sending love to police shortly after the razor fencing was erected, November 25th. - Photo by Amaya McKenna
I fear that a similar tactic is being employed considering the recent denial of easement by the Army Corps of Engineers. In this moment we are blinded by the guise of an apparent victory, but we must look back to the actions of the police on Thursday the 24th. There has been no respect for what is sacred, let alone what is legal or not. Thus we cannot back down, or accept this momentary victory as an absolute.
Let us not forget the corporate greed of our very own president-elect Donald Trump. Let us not forget his wilful, and gross advocacy for abuse of political power in the name of economic profit. Let us not forget that he is personally invested in this pipeline.
But most importantly, let us not forget that this battle between western capitalism and indigenous people is centuries old. Let us not forget that our colonial ancestors allowed and participated in the genocide of these peaceful people. Let us not forget the power of unity and community. Let us stand in solidarity to write a history that we can remember with pride.
