POPULARITY
The arrest of a suspect in the fatal shooting of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson is a relief for people who worked with Thompson. A 26-year-old man, Luigi Nicholas Mangione, has been charged with murder after a quick-thinking McDonald's customer in Pennsylvania recognized him from a surveillance photo and police officers found a gun, mask and writings linking him to the ambush.St. Paul Mayor Melvin Carter says he wants to raise taxes. Some homeowners say they can't afford it. Carter is proposing a nearly 8 percent increase in the city's 2025 budget.And Frank Paro, a prominent figure in the American Indian Movement, has died. Paro was a tribal citizen of the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa.This is a MPR News morning update, hosted by Jacob Aloi. Music by Gary Meister.Find these headlines and more at mprnews.org.New York prosecutors charge suspect in UnitedHealthcare CEO killing with murderRead the latest edition of the Minnesota Today newsletter.Subscribe on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube or RSS.
Erik Redix, Ojibwe Language Coordinator with the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa joins this episode, along with Superior National Forest Archeologist Lee Johnson who returns to Forest North, to talk about the Ojibwe language, or Ojibwemowin, and some of the original place names in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, Superior National Forest and the North Shore of Lake Superior.Show Notes:Ojibwe People's Dictionary | the Ojibwe People's Dictionaryhttps://www.nps.gov/grpo/learn/historyculture/north-shore-place-names.htmhttps://openrivers.lib.umn.edu/article/rivers-north-shore-ojibwe-dialects/Anishinaabe Bizindamoo Makak | WTIP
Send us a Text Message.In this episode of The Adventure Diaries, host Chris Watson chats with renowned adventure photographer and expedition guide, Ian Finch. Ian shares his journey from Royal Marines commando to celebrated adventure photographer, known for his respect for diverse cultures and commitment to environmental awareness.Topics Covered:Ian's early influences and love for the outdoorsTransition from the Royal Marines to adventure photographyBreakthrough moments in Ian's photography careerThe importance of capturing authentic cultural storiesSignificant expeditions including the Cherokee Trail of TearsEnvironmental projects like moose conservation with the Grand Portage Band of the ChippewaIan's company, Walk Wild, and its mission to connect people with naturePractical advice on finding adventure close to homeKey Takeaways:Ian Finch's love for the outdoors started with early fishing and hunting trips with his father.His creative side—art, writing, and photography—shaped his career.Time in the Marines equipped him with valuable expedition skills.A chance encounter with a Brooklyn photographer was pivotal for his photography career.Recent projects focus on environmental awareness and the impact of climate change on wildlife.Walk Wild offers guided walks and workshops to help people connect with nature.Call to Adventure:“Adventure doesn't need to be grand. Doesn't have to be over months and it doesn't have to be over weeks. I think it's all about immersion. I think it's about going into an environment that maybe you don't know so much about, something where you can go and you can learn.”“It could be the Lake District, could be the Peak District, could be, the wilds of the West Highlands and stuff like that, or a foreign country. But it's going to a place where you can maybe spend a few days out in the wilderness or out in the countryside or wherever it may be.”“Aiming to making the kind of the concept of that experience about trying to keep your phone away from the experience unless you need it for navigation or you want, you get an epic sunset or see something, but to just with the goal of being as present as you can.”Pay It Forward:“I like a lot of stuff that people are doing out there, the BMC doing incredible things. But one of the, I think one of the things is true to my heart other than the Royal Marines Association that help veterans and ex Royal Marines dealing with mental health issues and stuff like that.”One of my friends, a guy called Andy Jones, he passed away recently. He was an ex-army guy and he died of a brain tumor. So I think to sort of the brain tumor societies and anyone that can offer any sort of help or money into the development of research into brain tumors, I think would be a wonderful thing.”Connect with Ian Finch:Instagram: @IanEFinchWebsite: ianefinch.com Support the Show.Thanks For Listening.If you enjoyed this episode, please leave a comment and subscribe for more exciting content. Follow us https://linktr.ee/adventurediaries for updates. Have a topic suggestion? Email us at ideas@adventurediaries.com. AdventureDiaries.com#AdventureDiaries #AdventureStories #NationalGeographic #Discovery #NaturalWorld
Most tribes have important traditional connections to the stars and other celestial bodies in the night sky. But increasing encroachment from artificial lights is diminishing those connections. A handful of tribes are supporting a dark skies initiative to preserve what night sky visibility is left and promoting methods to limit light pollution. In the process, they're raising awareness of their own night sky traditions. GUESTS S.D. Nelson (Standing Rock Sioux Tribe), author and illustrator of children's books Travis Novitsky (Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa), nature photographer Daniel Bulletts, cultural resource director for the Kaibab Band of Paiute Indians and director of the Southern Paiute Consortium
Staci Lola Drouillard is a Grand Portage Band of Ojibwe direct descendant. She lives and works in her hometown of Kitchibitobig—Grand Marais, on Minnesota's North Shore of Lake Superior. Staci works as a radio producer for WTIP North Shore Community Radio and authors the monthly column Nibi Chronicles for Great Lakes Now, a branch of Detroit Public Media. Her first book Walking the Old Road: A People's History of Chippewa City and the Grand Marais Anishinaabe (UMP, 2019) won the Hamlin Garland Prize in Popular History, the Northeastern Minnesota Book Award for nonfiction and was a finalist for a Minnesota Book Award. Her second book Seven Aunts (UMP, 2022) won the 2023 Minnesota Book Award for Memoir and Creative nonfiction, the Northeastern Minnesota Book Award and was a “Minnesota Reads” selection at the Library of Congress National Book Festival. The children's book A Family Tree, will be released in May of 2024 (Harper Collins). In today's episode, Staci describes memories that inspired her artistic journey that paved the way for her many accolades. Staci expresses how she manages taking care of her mental health as a writer while unearthing truths that fold into her creative processes overtime.
Myron Johnson of Minneapolis, former artistic director for Ballet of the Dolls, recommends “The Conference of the Birds” from Zorongo Flamenco Dance Theatre. The dance piece is based on an epic poem by 12th-century Persian mystic Farīd al-DīnʿAṭṭār.“It's been performed and created by one of my absolute favorite artists in this community, Susana di Palma,” Johnson said. “I can't imagine anyone taking this story and doing an interpretation any better than Susana and her live musicians and singers and flamenco dancers and original music.”“The Conference of the Birds” plays Feb. 10-11 at the Cowles Center in Minneapolis.Minneapolis resident Mary Thomas is an art historian and arts administrator. She is looking forward to “In the Middle of Somewhere,” an exhibit by artist Martin Gonzales.An alum of the University of Minnesota's art department, Gonzales is based in Massachusetts. Thomas sees Gonzales “grappling with questions of how he takes up space and how he can occupy space in different ways.” “The sculptures are a way to think through and meditate on some of those questions through his own life and his own experience,” Thomas said.The exhibit is on display at the Silverwood Park Visitor Center in St. Anthony through Feb. 29. Linda LeGarde Grover, a member of the Bois Forte Band of Chippewa in northern Minnesota, is a professor emeritus of American Indian Studies at the University of Minnesota Duluth. She's very pleased to recommend the Indigenous Writer Series at AICHO in Duluth. The series features Indigenous writers from around the region. “Some of them will actually have drawings for some of their books, and the community will get to listen to them, ask questions of them and especially hear them talking about their writing,” Grover said. The event Saturday will include authors Tashia Hart of Red Lake Nation and Staci L. Drouillard of Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa, from 2-4 p.m. at the Dr. Robert Powless Cultural Center in Duluth.
Conservators and artists have worked this past year to restore a work of art created by artist George Morrison half a century ago. Morrison's vision is felt by the people who helped to restore his work, and by those redesigning the building where the mural lives.The late artist George Morrison was from a small town near the Grand Portage reservation in northern Minnesota. He attended art school in Minneapolis and New York City and was part of a leading generation of American artists working as abstract expressionists. Known for his intricate wood sculpture and collage, George Morrison was commissioned to create the mural for the Minneapolis American Indian Center in 1974.Morrison once told a biographer the design was inspired by feathers. Its chevron V-shapes work in unison to create an optical illusion. Although never formally named, Morrison suggested the work might be called — “Turning the Feather Around: A Mural for the Indian.” Sam Olbekson is an architect and the chair of the Minneapolis American Indian Center's board of directors. He is a part of a team working on the center's renovation.“That pattern and the way it's constructed allowed us to take it apart piece by piece, and one of the main goals of this entire project is to preserve this piece art,” says Olbekson.In 2022, the Midwest Arts Conservation Center, or MACC, answered the center's call to restore the mural.Chief conservator Megan Emery served as the manager of the project. MACC called on another team of conservators from Montana with expertise in rigging and reinstalling complicated works of art.“We decided we were going to have to start the project by doing full documentation with photographs of the mural to basically map out exactly out how it looked and how everything was laid out,” says Emery.“When it was time to start to start the project, we physically removed every single board, and that's when we need a team of people.” Josie Hoffman is an Anishinaabe multi-media artist whose family is from the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa. Hoffman was tasked by MACC to work on the restoration.“There wasn't a ton of problems. And actually, when we were taking it down it came down really easily. It was also the documentation of [the mural],” says Hoffman. “It's about over 700 cedar boards, so it's about documenting and making sure we have all these pieces in the right place.”Once the pieces were carefully removed, they were packed into crates and shipped to specialists at the firm Wolf Magritte in Missoula, Mont. The firm cleaned the mural again and worked to design a series of interlocking panels on which to mount jigsaw-like pieces for reinstallation.When the full sun hits the mural at its new home on the east side of the building, the contrast of the light and dark surfaces of the cedar planks is striking — adding a sense of movement. George Morrison mural in Minneapolis preserved for future generations by Olbekson says the restoration of the mural is a part of the long-term vision for community development along Franklin Avenue. “Where it was on the building ... [George Morrison] was so intent on it being open to the public. So that art was accessible to the community. He wanted it to be large scale, in your face, out, and unapologetically Indigenous on Franklin Avenue,” says Olbekson. Olbekson points out the mural's new location on the east side of the center will mean that it has a different experience with environmental elements and weather. “We tried to preserve the aging, the integrity of it,” says Olbekson. “It was about making sure the original artist's intention was conveyed in the new building, to do it in a way that will make it last there in another fifty years.”The restoration of the mural is part of the Minneapolis American Indian Center's first major renovation since opening in 1975.
Winona LaDuke recalls “Salsa Tuesdays” outside the old Carnegie Library in Park Rapids. In 2021, water protector activists and members of the community would dance — salsa, macarena — in protest against Enbridge, the building's then occupant, the Canadian conglomerate behind the controversial Line 3 pipeline.“We would stand out there with little signs that said, ‘Water is life, protect the water, stop Line 3,'” LaDuke says. “We would always look at the building and hope that one day something would be different there.”On Thursday, Giiwedinong: The Anishinaabe Museum of Treaties and Culture opened on the spot. The museum sits just off the main drag of a downtown lined with candy shops, bars and an old cinema. Now, the stone building, built in 1908, is striped with red, white, yellow and black, the medicine wheel colors representing the four directions. It is the first museum in Minnesota devoted to the Indigenous perspective on treaty rights, environmental justice and culture.“This is not a tribal museum,” explains LaDuke, a member of the Mississippi Band of Ashinaabeg. “This is an Indigenous museum, but it is off the reservation. It received no state funding, it's entirely independent. We think of ourselves as the little museum that could.”In Oct. 2022, the building was purchased for the museum by Akiing, an Anishinaabe community nonprofit based on the nearby White Earth Indian Reservation. “It's being put in a place that's so ironic,” says Frank Bibeau, a museum board member and the Akiing executive director.Bibeau is an enrolled member of the Minnesota Chippewa Tribe at White Earth and a treaty rights attorney. Park Rapids is in the heart of ceded treaty territory, explains Bibeau. Enbridge placed the Line 3 pipeline across Northern Minnesota despite public opposition. Water protector activists, including Native and climate advocates, warned it could pollute waterways. With the museum, Bibeau says they are correcting the actions of the building's past occupants, Carnegie and Enbridge. Related Winona LaDuke resigns as Honor The Earth leader after sexual harassment case “So, the imperialist who took and raped our land and resources created that building in Park Rapids,” Bibeau says. “The next round of imperialists also were there, and so we're taking that space, and we're saying that's not the proper use of this space. That's been harmful to our area.”At the museum are interim executive director Jerry Lee Chilton, a member of the White Earth Band, and museum organizer Mary Crystal Goggleye, who is Anishinaabe and Pueblo. They stand in the entry, surrounded by a freshly painted mural. In jewel tones, Red Lake artist Brian Dow painted animals representing many Anishinaabe clans. “Giiwedinong” is Anishinaabe for “in the north,” says Chilton, who is also the executive director of the Anishinaabe Agricultural Institute.“It's a lot of cool artifacts, a lot of cool heritage,” Chilton says. He points to the ground and cites the 1855 Treaty. “This was all reservation at one point. So, we're just bringing that to light,” Chilton says. Goggleye walks among the maps and photographs.“We are fighting for our history to be told,” Goggleye says. “We are in society, you see us in society, and we will revitalize our own history.”The intimate galleries of Giiwedinong unfold with historical photos, treaty maps, and documents. Displays outline ceded territories defined by the Treaties of 1837, 1854, 1855 and 1867. They also show the rights to hunt, fish and gather in these territories, and tell the stories about how these rights have been breached. More displays depict agreements the Anishinaabe had with other indigenous nations, like One Dish One Spoon, the treaty about shared hunting rights that dates back to the 12th century.“It's a new concept, an important concept,” says museum board member Travis Zimmerman, a descendent of the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa. Zimmerman is also the site manager for the Mille Lacs Indian Museum and Trading Post, which is run by the Minnesota Historical Society. Giiwedinong is different, he says.“A museum run by an American Indian organization, having American Indian curators, and really having that Native voice come out, is something that you don't really see much of, anywhere really, much less in Minnesota.”The museum is an educational resource for Native and non-Native folk alike, Zimmerman says.“The thing that's really behind treaties, it's all about sovereignty, and I think that's what people don't realize and struggle with, that American Indians are sovereign nations,” Zimmerman says. “We always have been, and we always will be.”Giiwedinong also puts these treaty rights into a contemporary context. A special exhibit features photos and stories from the Line 3 protests, and the Dakota Access Pipeline at Standing Rock. A photo on display by Sarah (Miskwaa-ens Migiziwigwan) Kalmanson includes water protector activist Tania Aubid at Standing Rock in North Dakota. In September, Aitkin County judge Leslie Metzen dismissed charges related to a Line 3 protest against Aubid, LaDuke and fellow activist Dawn Goodwin.Metzen reasoned, “We moved them by force and power and violence off the land where they lived for thousands of years. To make peace, we signed treaties with them that promised many things they never received.”Kalmanson, an Anishinaabekwe descendant of White Earth, photographed many of these protests. She is also a curator and marketing director for the museum.“We had tens of thousands of people at Standing Rock. I was there. And I want to honor that. There were a lot of atrocities that happened,” she says.Curating the museum has been healing, she says.“It was pretty brutal, what we all went through, and I just feel really energized and I'm so happy to share and carry this on,” Kalmanson says. “I'm really excited to have folks come in and see how beautiful we are.”LaDuke says there will be another dance party at the opening tonight.
A few miles from the Canada border, Heather Boyd walks the grassy trail of the national monument's Ojibwe Village. She passes the soaring pointed timber of the palisade fence that encircles the recreated historic depot, what was once the famed 18th-century cultural crossroads of the Grand Portage Anishinaabe and the fur trade.Boyd then stops in the field where the National Monument hosts the annual Rendezvous Days event. Thousands of visitors flock to the remote site every August for music, camping, reenactments and craft workshops. “This is the encampment area,” Boyd says. “It's wild to see tent upon tent here.” She looks up at the nearby western hills, the site of the Grand Portage Band's annual powwow, also in August.“I'm really looking forward to blending the two events a bit more, the powwow and the Rendezvous here” Boyd says. “Well, it's celebrating both cultures, right? So, being able to encourage not only visitors here, but encourage them to go up to the powwow, too, and have that experience.”Boyd is the new superintendent of the Grand Portage National Monument. She is the first woman and first Anishinaabe person to hold the National Park Service position since the monument was established in 1958. The Anishinaabe have occupied the land since “time immemorial,” as the monument's signage points out.Today, Boyd is wearing a pin given to her by the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa, the tribe that has been co-managing the site with the park service for decades. She is also wearing a traditional Native ribbon skirt, striped in red, white and black. “The ribbon skirt represents resiliency and identity and is just empowering as a woman,” Boyd says, “and a woman in a management position — that I'm the first Anishinaabe and the first woman to ever lead here.” Many say her appointment is a historic moment in the co-stewardship of the monument, which is within the boundaries of the of the Grand Portage Indian Reservation. The Grand Portage Band donated the land to the federal government.“I understand living in a tribal community,” says Boyd, who is an enrolled member of the Red Cliff Band of Lake Superior Chippewa from Bayfield, Wis. “I think that's one of the things they saw in me.”Less than half a mile up the road, April McCormick sits in the timber building that houses the Grand Portage Reservation Tribal Council, the partner in co-management with the National Park Service. McCormick is the Tribal Council secretary treasurer.“We're really trying to have our leadership be reflective of who we are,” McCormick says. McCormick says Boyd is a good fit because of her 14-year tenure as an administrative officer for Isle Royale National Park, the Michigan island site in Lake Superior, which is part of the Anishinaabe ancestral homelands. It's less than 40 miles from Grand Portage and on a clear day, you can see it from Boyd's new office.McCormick adds that even though Boyd is from a different Anishinaabe band, she is one of them and the community has welcomed her.“She has a deep understanding of tribal government and protocol,” McCormick says. “And also, just understanding the value of our culture, and traditions, and how we're telling our story for national parks. Whose worldview, whose lenses are we using?”Citing the efforts of the Grand Portage Band, McCormick points to the growing number of Native women working at the national monument. She says the current chief of interpretation Anna Deschampe is the first Grand Portage Band member to fill the position, within the division of interpretation and education. Boyd will work with Deschampe to refine the storytelling at the national monument, from signage and exhibitions to reenactments and workshops. The National Park Service announced Boyd's appointment last summer. She's only recently relocated from Michigan. The choice to wear the ribbon skirt regularly at Grand Portage, instead of the typical green and khaki of the NPS uniforms, is one way she's making an impact on the site's culture. “Throughout my career with the Park Service, I don't see a lot of Indigenous people,” Boyd says. “As I go to different meetings, I'm the only one in a ribbon skirt in a room. Breaking that barrier so people feel like this is a regular thing means a lot to me.”Boyd points to other Native women in leadership, who in growing numbers in the last few years have been wearing the ribbon skirt in their official capacity in state and national government.White Earth member and Minnesota Lieutenant Governor Peggy Flanagan often wore a ribbon skirt. And Deb Haaland, who in 2021 became the first Native woman to serve as the U.S. Secretary of the Department of the Interior (the department responsible for the National Park Service), wore a traditional ribbon skirt at her swearing-in ceremony in Washington D.C. While Boyd says she still has a lot to learn about the site, she knows she also wants to make an impact by doing more community events, like a recent Ojibwa language roundtable that was hosted in the monument's Heritage Center. The center houses a museum, art gallery and shop; she wants to bring more local artists into the space, too. Joseph Bauerkemper, professor and director of the Tribal Sovereignty Institute at the University of Minnesota Duluth, says Boyd's appointment is important but not surprising. “The Grand Portage Band has really sophisticated, long-standing, consistent leadership, even when different elected officials and community leaders have come and gone,” Bauerkemper says. “Grand Portage has worked very effectively in partnership with the National Park Service for many years, and so this is not a radical shift in that relationship, but it's a significant improvement in that relationship.”He compares Boyd's appointment to the Biden administration appointment of Haaland. “It's of similar import, because Secretary Haaland brings extensive knowledge and experience to that position” he says. “Native nations don't have to explain to the Secretary of Interior who they are, what they are, what they're up to, and that's a big deal. We can see the same thing going on — sure on a smaller scale, but no less important — at the monument there at Grand Portage.” Grand Portage National Monument is considered a leader in the National Park System for its co-management agreement, which creates a sharing of power and responsibility between the federal government and local tribes. Charles F. Sams III, the current National Park Service director (and the first tribally enrolled member to hold the position), testified before congress in 2022 about Grand Portage.“The stewardship of Grand Portage National Monument exemplifies how successful co-management can be, while infusing valuable dollars into the local Tribal economy,” Sams said. Boyd also sits on the NPS Tribal Relations Advisory Committee for the Midwest region, which includes superintendents and staff from other parks and sites and meets monthly by video call. At the May meeting, Boyd sat in the conference room of the Heritage Center. St. Croix National Scenic Riverway superintendent Craig Hansen — who is the former superintendent of Grand Portage — was on the call and said Boyd's appointment is significant. “It shows the commitment to that community and that site,” Hansen said. Also on the call was Alisha Deegan, the superintendent of the Knife River Indian Village National History Site in North Dakota. A member of the Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara Nation, Deegan is also working at a federal site in her ancestral homeland. “Having that connection to the land that is beyond government is huge,” Deegan said. “The pride extends beyond her and her family.” Deegan explained that, as a Native person, it can be “really difficult” to work for government, or feel welcome entering a federal building or park, because of the U.S. history of oppression, violating treaties and taking land from Native populations. “Having Indigenous people in leadership positions, there is that permission to come back to sites,” Deegan said. “Elders may come and shares stories they wouldn't have before.” Boyd sits at her desk in her office at the Heritage Center. She is framed by a window that overlooks the Ojibwe Village and the Historic Depot, with Grand Portage Island and Isle Royale appearing as purple streaks in the distance on Lake Superior. Boyd says she feels like she's home, even though she hasn't lived on her own Red Cliff reservation for 20 years. “So, when I first came over here, it just felt right,” Boyd says. “When I first started with the Park Service, I wasn't promoting my heritage and my culture because it didn't feel right. Here, I feel like I'm empowered to do that. It feels awesome.” The Grand Portage National Monument grounds are open year-round. The Historic Depot opens for the season Memorial Day weekend. Correction (May 26, 2023): A previous version of this story incorrectly stated the Lieutenant Governor's title. This has been fixed.
If you visited Isle Royale National Park in Lake Superior 50 years ago, the story you heard about what makes this place special would have left out quite a bit — specifically, the sites' connections to Ojibwe people, past and present. We heard about that history in a past episode of the award-winning podcast, “It Happens Here,” by WTIP North Shore Community Radio. In this next episode, producers Staci Drouillard and Leah Lemm explain how the Grand Portage Band of Superior Chippewa and allies in the National Park Service worked to rectify the erasure of Ojibwe people from the National Park.
Drost grew up in Grand Portage and is an enrolled member of the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa. Her interest in tribal politics traces back to her childhood and especially to her father.
The returned land, a stretch of beach along Lake Superior's North Shore outside Grand Marais, MN, was once part of a larger native settlement known as Chippewa City. The historic occasion was celebrated with a ceremony at the Grand Portage Lodge and Casino. John Morrin, a Grand Portage Tribal Elder, was one of the keynote speakers.
Ashley Hanson wants you to know about an exhibit that celebrates rural Minnesota artists and stories. Hanson, executive director of the nonprofit Department of Public of Transformation in Granite Falls, recommends “Field Notes: 7 Truths about the Rural,” which draws together the work of seven artists of various disciplines. They explore subjects that make up our rural places, including small-town newspapers, post offices, mining and extractive economies, relationship to the land, and more. Laura Youngbird of the Minnesota Chippewa, Grand Portage Band uses mixed media to investigate “issues of identity as they relate to family members' forced enrollment in boarding schools.” Installation artist Matthew Fluharty of Winona looks at the ways rural communities are presented in national print media compared with local newspapers. Abstract painters Andrew Nordin and Lisa Bergh of New London look outward to architecture and inward to our emotional landscapes. Hanson highlights the timing of this exhibit makes it powerful as it celebrates the complexities of rural life at a time when political coverage focused on voting blocs can oversimplify rural life. The exhibit runs at Form+Content Gallery in Minneapolis through Dec. 23. Theater maker Ryan Paul North of St. Anthony Village is looking forward to seeing Spiked! at Granada Theater in Minneapolis. A co-production of Table Salt Productions and Rock What You Got, this classic holiday variety show promises music, improv and sketch comedy, along with a great line-up of guests that vary from show to show. It's family friendly, with a run time of three hours. North is looking forward to a chance to sit back, relax with a drink, and laugh. “Spiked!” runs Thursday at 7:30 p.m., Dec. 3 and 4 at 2 p.m. and Dec. 6 and 13 at 7:30 p.m. Dining options are available before the show for additional cost. Nicole Watson, director of the Catherine G. Murphy Gallery at St. Catherine University, wants to shine a light on a Twin Cities-area art exhibit that she found utterly thought-provoking. “Surface Tension” at Bethel University's Olson Gallery features the work of four female photographers, Sophia Chai, Paula McCartney, Christine Nguyen and Letha Wilson. Chai is from Rochester and McCarthy is based in the Twin Cities. Courtesy photo Paula McCartney's work, "Acquaintance," glazed and unglazed stoneware and archival pigment print on a wood base. Each artist pushes their work beyond the bounds of a printed photograph. Sometimes these changes are 3-dimensional, like McCartney's ceramic geometric shapes that play on the light and shadow in her photographs. “The longer you look at them the more surprises that surface,” Watson said. In Nguyen's work, light and time change the appearance of her unprocessed photographic paper. The exhibit is open to the public and on view through Dec. 16.
Think about this: As long as humans have walked the earth, they've stepped out of their shelters at night, looked at the sky and come face to face with the universe. That is until the past hundred years or so. Now many of us look up and see the glow of electric lights. A new documentary looks at the history and science behind Northern Minnesota's night skies, as well as indigenous star knowledge and the impact of light pollution. “Northern Nights, Starry Skies” is a production of Hamline University's Center for Global Environmental Education in partnership with WDSE, the PBS member station in Duluth. Travis Novitsky is a night sky photographer and tribal member of the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa whose photographs and stories are included in the documentary.
Part 2 - Once-ignored Indigenous knowledge of nature now shaping science by If you come into contact with people working in and around natural resources in Minnesota you may hear the term TEK. It's a popular buzzword, which, confusingly, has little to do with technology. It's the acronym for Traditional Ecological Knowledge, an umbrella term for information about the natural world collected by countless generations of Indigenous people. Through observation and life experience, they gained knowledge — what plants were good to make teas to soothe a sore throat, what bark to harvest to bring down a fever, how certain species adapted to changes in climate and how fire can revitalize the forest floor to produce an abundance of berries. That knowledge was shared, often orally through stories or songs. Once dismissed as unscientific, there's now increasing interest in incorporating Indigenous knowledge into the policies and practices of Minnesotans working with forestry and wildlife. Mathew Holding Eagle III | MPR News A group of red pines in Camp 8 about a month after a prescribed burn. Michael Dockry is an enrolled member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation. He is also involved in American Indian studies at the University of Minnesota where he teaches TEK concepts. Through a traditional ecological knowledge perspective, “we are connected with everything,” Dockry said. “That's something that transcends science itself,” he said. “That's why the spirituality, that's why cultural practices and songs come into play with how tribal people are managing resources and thinking about them. We are all related.” TEK differs from what some call scientific or academic ecological knowledge, which often views humans as separate from nature. "It's really about that relationship between people and the place where they live, and the beings that are there with them,” said Rob Croll, who coordinates the climate change program at the Great Lakes Indian Fish and Wildlife Commission. GLIFWC represents 11 Ojibwe tribes in Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan with treaty rights to hunt, fish and gather on lands ceded to the federal government. Scientists recently collected information through interviews with tribal elders and harvesters to assess how vulnerable certain species are to climate change. Croll emphasized that collective Indigenous knowledge about natural resources isn't ancient history. "It's happening now, it's happening today,” he said. “It's happening as people are out in the field on the lake, practicing the same activities that their ancestors did for hundreds and thousands of years." Over time, that knowledge has been handed down, usually orally through stories and songs. Michael Waasegiizhig Price is GLIFWC's traditional ecological knowledge specialist. Growing up, he knew little about his Anishinaabe culture. But when visiting family members in Canada, he listened as they told stories. Mathew Holding Eagle III | MPR News A reminder of the prescribed burn remains standing amidst the backdrop of new growth. "Some of these stories talked about ecological concepts, like burning off a forest to chase away the bad spirits and bring back the good spirits,” Price said. “From a scientific term, that would be called forest regeneration. You're talking about the same thing from two very different worldviews." When European settlers negotiated or often imposed treaties on tribes, that Western ideology, along with Manifest Destiny and the belief system that people were ordained by God to reign over nature — that everything on Earth was put here for their consumption — became implemented in policies. In turn, this threatened Indigenous people's way of life. However, at least on paper, it guaranteed them the right to hunt, fish and gather in ceded territories. Under TEK, the treaties have broader implications, said Seth Moore, a biologist for the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa. “If those foods are not available, if those foods are toxic, if our air is toxic, if our water is toxic, the United States federal government has not honored those treaties and there has been an abrogation of those treaty rights,” Moore said. Using fire as a tool In the Cloquet Forest, just south of Duluth, underneath a canopy of towering white and red pines, nature's melody is a chorus of Traditional Ecological Knowledge. It's a point where science and spirituality overlap. In many Indigenous communities, people have long made careful use of burns to promote forest health. But the Western view saw fire as inherently bad. On the Fond du Lac Reservation of Lake Superior Chippewa, this resulted in a curbing of burns. In 1904, urged by lumber companies, the land comprising the forest — three percent of the reservation — was given to the University of Minnesota by the government so that it could study methods to replenish areas after deforestation. Dockry said nowadays, tribes are reclaiming TEK they were prohibited from using in the past, including fire. “We're starting again to see tribes leading natural resource management forward with fire use in the region,” Dockry said. Mathew Holding Eagle III | MPR News A burned log inside Camp 8 after a prescribed burn in the Cloquet Forest. In May, the first prescribed burn of at least an acre since 2000 was conducted in the Cloquet Forest. To make it happen, at the request of the Fond du Lac Reservation to the Bureau of Indian Affairs, the BIA and the U of M agreed to a memorandum of understanding. It defined the working relationship between the three entities and paid tribal fire professionals to help conduct the burn. “We can learn a lot from tribes,” Dockry said. “Tribes have done a lot of work around fire.” Dockry says fires can be a real threat in Minnesota. However, prescribed burns help by removing forest waste which can lead to larger fires. It also encourages biodiversity by not allowing any one species of plant or tree to dominate an ecosystem — making it more sustainable. During a recent workshop at the Cloquet Forestry Center, fire expert Damon Panek, an enrolled member of the Mississippi Band of White Earth Ojibwe, spoke from the field in Arizona while assisting another tribe with their fire efforts. Panek helped lead the prescribed Cloquet Forest burn. He said using fires is about much more than reshaping the landscape, it is also about reclamation of something greater. "Our identity depends on it,” Panek said. “Our language, our culture, our ways of seeing the world is based on an ecosystem that is fire adapted and we don't have that right now. So what does that mean for us?" Panek said if prescribed burns continue, they will help unshroud Indigenous identity. He predicts there will be families camping out on the reservation, on the ceded territory, foraging for berries and sharing songs, stories and life practices — as he put it, rediscovering inlets to old outlets. ‘We want to see bigger trees' One place where traditional ecological knowledge about natural resources is being put to use is the Leech Lake Band of Ojibwe reservation in north-central Minnesota. The reservation encompasses nearly half of the Chippewa National Forest. The red and white pine stands on and around the reservation were heavily logged starting in the 1800s. Long before those timber barons began cutting the trees for profits, BJ Gotchie's ancestors made their home here. Kirsti Marohn | MPR News New plants, including wild strawberries, are visible on the forest floor in a portion of the Leech Lake forest where a prescribed burn was recently conducted. "A lot of tribal members — myself included — we want to see bigger trees,” said Gotchie, interagency fire restoration coordinator for the Leech Lake Band. “We don't care so much about having big trees to harvest for timber revenues.” Now, along with Keith Karnes, the band's forestry director, Gotchie is working to restore it closer to the forest his ancestors knew — by selectively cutting and using prescribed burns to give the remaining trees more space to grow." We want some of these big legacy trees, these great big old monoliths. They used to be here before the timber barons came through,” Karnes said. “There'll be some young forest that comes up, too. It's all about having a mix." The forest has responded. With less underbrush, the trees are able to grow taller and form more of a canopy. "Look at the difference in the trees,” Karnes said. “They just look happy.” Kirsti Marohn | MPR News Forestry director Keith Karnes inspects a pine tree in an area of the Leech Lake reservation near Cass Lake where recent thinning and prescribed burns have helped clear underbrush and given the remaining trees more room to grow. The forest is also getting more diverse, with other native trees and shrubs such as wild blueberries, roses and juneberries, able to thrive. For Karnes, who's not a tribal member, embracing this old way of thinking is a transformation that's taken years. When he first started working for the Leech Lake Band 16 years ago, he brought a traditional forestry mindset, all about the economics — how to harvest the most timber for the most revenue, an attitude that earned him the nickname the “Timber Beast.” Karnes recalled a conversation with a tribal employee on his first day. "I told her, ‘A happy tree is a horizontal tree,' which is what my forest products professor told me in college,” he said. “I got this absolute evil look." But after a decade or so, Karnes said his perspective changed, as he began listening to what tribal elders wanted. "The idea of timber revenues to the tribal government — it doesn't matter,” he said. “Here I was, just constantly focusing on economics. And that wasn't a vantage point for the tribe." Related stories New Bemidji State degree draws on indigenous practices to teach 21st century sustainability USDA announces a new focus on Indigenous food and agriculture Changemakers: Sean Sherman - Teaching Indigenous foods as cultural preservation Foraged plants form a connection to the earth Now, Karnes said, he uses a more holistic approach, focusing on the sustainable ecology of the forest. That includes thinning trees earlier and aggressively to allow the remaining ones to develop bigger crowns, letting some trees fall over to create habitat for wildlife, allowing more biodiversity and encouraging tree species that are hardy to climate change and invasive insects. In other words, Karnes said, thinking long term — not just about maximizing profits. "It's grounded in not just Western science,” he said. “It's adaptive silviculture. It's climate change science. But it's also traditional ecological knowledge. Everything has a purpose." Some federal agencies also are beginning to incorporate more Indigenous ecological knowledge into their policies and practices. In 2016, then-Leech Lake tribal chairwoman Carri Jones sent a letter to the U.S. Forest Service, voicing the band's concerns that the overharvesting of timber had led to forests dominated by pine and aspen that lacked diversity of plants and wildlife. In 2019, the tribe and the Forest Service signed a memorandum of understanding for shared stewardship of the Chippewa National Forest that reflects the band's goals. For his part, Gotchie envisions a thriving forest that produces local foods and medicines, much like it did for his ancestors. "It's not going to be just in my lifetime. Not even in my kids' lifetime,” he said. “My grandkids. That's what we want for future generations.”
A group of educators gathered around a canoe display at the Grand Portage State Park welcome center. Rick Novitsky, who used to be the park manager, began telling a story about how the Grand Portage band of Chippewa turned this land on the banks of the Pigeon River and the Canadian border from private property into reservation land and a state park. “It's become the destination that it always was — now for tens and thousands of visitors every summer and winter,” Novitsky said, “It's the only state park in Minnesota that is not on state land.” He spoke to more than 50 teachers from district schools, charters, colleges and K-12. They'd come from around Minnesota to spend a week training on the northernmost tip of Minnesota, next to Lake Superior, learning the history and present-day work of the Grand Portage Band of Chippewa. After listening to Novitsky talk about the tribe's DNR work stocking fish, buying land and counting wildlife moose populations, the educators leave the welcome center and begin hiking up to High Falls — the tallest waterfall in Minnesota. Derek Montgomery for MPR News High Falls as seen on June 29 at Grand Portage State Park near Grand Portage, Minn. The lecture and tour are part of a week-long educator training program called the Native Studies Summer Workshop for Educators. Darlene St. Clair, associate professor at St. Cloud State University, helped found the workshop and has been organizing and leading summer training sessions for more than a decade. It's meant to address a dearth of educator preparation to teach Native content. A recent statewide survey of educators commissioned by the Shakopee Mdewakanton Sioux Community found that most Minnesota teachers lack the confidence to incorporate Native American content into their teaching practice. They also said access to Native tribes or individuals was the most significant factor necessary to increase their confidence in teaching. Nearly 30 percent said they didn't have age-appropriate, culturally authentic resources to teach Native content. For St. Clair, addressing this access to Native people and resources is central to her summer training program. Each year she works to locate the training on one of Minnesota's 11 Native reservations. So far they've visited 10 of those reservations — in some cases more than once. St. Clair waits for permission to visit. Then she works with the tribe's educators, elders, artists and authors to give workshop participants information about treaties and sovereignty as well as the history, current events, language and culture of the reservation. Derek Montgomery for MPR News Darlene St. Clair poses for a portrait on June 29 at Grand Portage State Park near Grand Portage, Minn. This week they're on Ojibwe land, learning about log building, hand weaving and food sovereignty. But they're also listening to Dakota guest speakers talk about that tribe's language, history and culture. For St. Clair, this sort of training for educators is vital. “Schools have been used to erase Native people,” St. Clair said. “We're using those same institutions to address that erasure, to halt it and to sort of repair it and to restore Native people as the indigenous peoples of this land and that we should be central to all of these conversations.” Summer workshop participants spend the first few days of the session listening to speakers and raising questions about everything from how to do hands-on botany work in the classroom, how to understand and address historic trauma with students and why the Little House on the Prairie series has problematic portrayals of Native people. “Everyone coming into the workshop has some baggage that they've learned about Native people that's problematic or 100 percent untrue, so we have to sort of start the week with grounding and think, ‘what is it that I'm bringing in?'” St. Clair said. Derek Montgomery for MPR News Anna Cournoyer (black sweatshirt) and Anais Cournoyer (blue sweatshirt) get their picture taken in front of High Falls Wednesday on June 29 at Grand Portage State Park near Grand Portage, Minn. Awna Cournoyer is the Native American liaison for the Cedar Mountain district in southern Minnesota. She's also an enrolled member of the Yankton Sioux Tribe. For her, the weeklong training is a corrective to some of the misinformation she's come across in textbooks. It's also valuable information she can bring back to her classroom. “I've liked it. I primarily serve Dakota students, so this is a big change because we're on an Ojibwe Anishinaabe Tribe(‘s reservation),” Cournoyer said, “Being able to tell my students (our history) goes beyond just southwestern Minnesota — it goes all the way up to the Canadian border and there's sacred sites all over.” But it's not just lectures, tours and group discussions. In the last few days of the session, participants take what they learn and start to think about how exactly they can incorporate it into the work that they're doing. For Anna Best, who teaches special education to middle school students at online charter Minnesota Connections Academy, the training is about more than just figuring out ways to meet state standards for teaching Native content. She's also thinking specifically about the ways she can address some of the stereotypes, labels and other barriers that affect her Native students. “There's data that shows there's a large discrepancy of Native students in special education so my goal … has been to next year really dive into that population at our school and to really look and see what supports those students needs beyond just being labeled as special education and getting special services,” Best said. The week-long seminar is not comprehensive, but St. Clair hopes it gets teachers started on learning what they need to do their jobs well, and introduces them to the resources they need. “If I can help our educators improve the way that they teach about and to Native people, that's the way we're going to make the larger change that we want to see,” St. Clair said.
George Morrison grew up a member of the Grand Portage Band of the Minnesota Chippewa Tribe in a rural fishing village on Lake Superior. The first highway opened from Duluth to the Canadian border at about the same time. As one of 12 children, life was a struggle, but George showed remarkable talent as an artist at an early age. George graduated from Grand Marais High School at the height of the depression. After high school, he went to the Minnesota School of Art, where he earned scholarships, including a Fulbright, which took him to New York City and Paris. His travels introduced him to some of the world's leading painters and sculptors. Their influence led him to become one of the country's leading Abstract Expressionists. In the mid-1970s, the lure of Lake Superior pulled him back to his homeland, where he finished his career at Red Rock and died in 2000. This spring, the United States Postal Service will release five of his most famous landscape paintings as a commemorative stamp. In this episode of the Lake Superior Podcast, Walt and Frida speak with George's only son, Briand Mesaba Morrison, and Anna Deschampe. Anna is Chief of interpretation at Grand Portage National Monument, so along with Briand, they are the perfect pair to tell the story of the life and art of George Morrison. Sponsored by Cafe Imports, a Minneapolis-based importer of fine, specialty green coffees. Independently owned and operated since 1993, Cafe Imports has been dedicated to decreasing its impact on the earth through renewable energy, carbon neutrality, and by supporting conservational efforts in places where quality coffee is grown and also, where quality coffee is consumed. Where does your coffee come from?
The United States Postal Service has announced the new stamps for 2022. The stamps are described as miniature works of art and celebrate American culture and history. And one of the panes will feature the work of the late modernist artist George Morrison, who was from the Grand Portage Band. Here's Reporter Leah Lemm speaking to Briand Morrison, son of George Morrison.
This week on the Minnesota Native News health report, as the state continues to turn the corner and get vaccinated, talk has shifted for some to what's next for Indian Country. Reporter Dalton Walker explains with this week's stories.Minnesota is known for its snow and cold winters, but it's also known for its many summer outdoor adventures. Minnesota tourism was a billion dollar industry before the pandemic. Tourism in Indian Country is more than powwows or stops at the casino. Sure, both play a role in bringing revenue to the tribal government. But tourism is beyond that, especially now that things shuttered by the pandemic are slowly opening back up. Plus, with tribes pushing for vaccinations among tribal citizens, and some tribes even offering it to anyone willing to get the shot, brighter days are ahead.Tribes in the state have magnificent cultural centers like the Shakopee Mdewakanton's Hoċokata Ti, or prime walleye fishing opportunities on Ojibwe lands up in Leech Lake, or even the great hiking and scenic views at the only state park within in a reservation, home of the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa.A national survey focused on tribal tourism found that nearly 70 percent of respondents believe tourism will increase greatly in the coming months. The American Indian Alaska Native Tourism Association's annual survey asked Native and tribally owned hospitality businesses Association CEO Sherry L. Rupert said the optimism comes as many across the country itching for a vacation will pass on international travel in favor of domestic road trips. Rupert: After all our industry has faced, I'm so excited for everything the second half of 2021 and 2022 has to offer,0:37-0:46 = 9 secondsRupert was one of five tourism experts to testify this week in a Senate Committee on Indian Affairs oversight hearing focused on Native tourism economies. Committee Chairman Brian Schatz said dedicated dollars for tribes by the recent American Rescue Plan helps but more needs to be done. Schatz: Yes, help is here. But many Native communities need particular resources to reboot, revitalize, and expand their tourism economies. The Native American Tourism and Improving Visitor Experience Act, or Native Act, would help Native communities do just that.21:04-21:20=17 secondsExplore Minnesota, the state's tourism arm, has a user-friendly website that highlights museums and historic sites on tribal lands.Adventure is out there. Be sure to check your specific destination's website to see what COVID-19 safety guidelines are in place before heading out. In other news…A popular social media post by the Center for Disease Control and Prevention showed the world how serious Indigenous people are about the vaccine.The CDC updated its data tracker this week to display vaccine progress trends by race and ethnicity. In the social media post of a graphic chart, American Indians and Alaska Natives are first in the percentage of fully vaccinated.30 percent of American Indians and Alaska Natives are fully vaccinated, and the group has been in the lead since January, according to the CDC.For a closer look at the data tracker, visit the CDC website at covid.cdc.govFor Minnesota Native News health report, I'm Dalton Walker
Meet Anna Deschampe, Chief of Interpretation at Grand Portage National Monument, at the tip of the arrowhead in northern Minnesota. With degrees in both Sociology and Anthropology, Anna's education has well prepared her for her job, but she also shares her backstory as a member of the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa growing up on the reservation. Grand Portage National Monument is one of the country's few national parks located entirely on native land and a place where America's fur trade story lives on.
This week on the Minnesota Native News health report, we look at an Ojibwe band on the most northeastern edge of the state and how it was affected by the pandemic. I'm Dalton Walker and here's this week's story. A couple hours drive north of Duluth, tucked away along the shore of Lake Superior and near the Canadian border, is the homelands of the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa. Grand Portage is one of seven Ojibwe bands in Minnesota, and the smallest. The tribe is home to about 500 citizens.Council member John Morrin has served for more than 20 years. He said the last year has been challenging as the tribe took near immediate precautions once the pandemic hit Minnesota. Morrin: We took the virus seriously, basically shut down Grand Portage. We shut down our store, had limited hours, we shut down our casino, shut down just about everything.0:56-1:09 = 13 secondsThe shut down worked for the health and safety of the community. No deaths connected to the coronavirus have been reported. Morrin: Those precautions we took over a year ago now, we've only had one case in Grand Portage. And in fact, that wasn't a case within the community but was a case of a girlfriend that came to visit a band member one weekend and that's how he got exposed. She found out later that she got exposed. But basically, one case like that in over a year, so I would have to say, we have a community that really took it seriously and took serious precautions to keep our community safe, and it paid off.1:55-2:36 = 41 secondsLike many tribes and communities, the shutdown affected revenue. The casino was closed for nearly four months. With the border still closed, a large chunk of gaming revenue from regular Canadian visitors has stopped. Reserves and federal and state relief has helped, but the tribe has been in a crunch since, Morrin said. Morrin: We're patiently waiting for Trudeau and Biden to work something out and open up that border. We think, maybe, we've heard, middle of May. Not going to hold my breath; possibly by the Fourth of July. But we would really appreciate that border being opened, that's basically our revenues. 4:19-4:44= 25 secondsThe tribe is looking at other potential revenue streams, like maximizing outdoor recreational opportunities. Grand Portage is a vacation destination throughout the year. It's home to the picturesque Grand Portage State Park and a ferry ride to Isle Royale National Park.Tourism to the area could be coming back in the coming months as the state and the country continues to get vaccinated. The tribe has better vaccinated numbers than the state. Grand Portage worked with Indian Health Service for its vaccine rollout. Morrin said 90 percent of the tribe has been vaccinated and the leftover vaccine was shared with the county.Morrin: That's who we are, culturally, we help everybody. It's kind of an educational process too, we keep pushing. Hey, we are still here, and this is who we are, beautiful people.11:58-12:11 = 13 secondsFor Minnesota Native News health report, I'm Dalton Walker
8th Annual Social Consciousness Summit (Apr 23, 2020). Theme: “COVID-19: Understanding and Breaking the Socio-Economic and Racial Disparities.” Michael Nixon, Andrews University VP for Diversity & Inclusion, moderates the discussion, where panelists seek to carefully explore some of the core reasons for the racial and socioeconomic disparities that have come to light in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic and discuss what these disparities reveal to us about the inequities that predated this pandemic; how the pandemic has worsened those inequities; and the policies and practices we can advocate for to begin the process of addressing them. The 2020 Summit is co-sponsored by Spectrum Health Lakeland, The Andrews University Office for Diversity and Inclusion, the AU Truth, Racial Healing and Transformation Campus Center, the Office of Research & Creative Scholarship, and the Office of the Provost. Co-curricular credit is available for students who view the episode. After watching, go to http://tiny.cc/auspeaks10 to answer a question about the presentation. PANELIST BIO SKETCHES: • Dr. Harvey Burnett, Associate Professor of Psychology and Chair of the School of Social & Behavioral Sciences at AU. His family is from the Grand Portage Band of Ojibwas. • Dr. Lynn Todman, Executive Director for Population Health at Spectrum Health Lakeland in St. Joseph, Michigan. In her role, she helps set the strategic direction of the health system efforts to improve population health and reduce health inequities. Dr. Todman is also the catalyst behind Community Grand Rounds, a speaker series designed to educate healthcare providers and community members in Berrien County, MI. • Dr. Padma Tadi Uppala, Professor and Chair of the School of Population Health, Nutrition and Wellness at Andrews University, and also Program Director for Public Health. She has received several grants and conducted research in the areas of breast cancer and minority health. • Ingrid Weiss Slikkers, Assistant Professor of Social Work, has been a social worker and therapist since the early 90s and currently teaches at Andrews. She comes from an Uruguayan/Argentinean family and has done focused work with the Latino community. Over the last 7 years, she has worked locally with programs for refugees coming from overseas and immigrants, specifically unaccompanied immigrant children. As the director of the new Trauma Center at Andrews, she has had the opportunity to take graduate students to work on the Navajo Reservation and also traveled abroad two refugee camps to educate and help with trauma. • Twyla Smith, Assistant Professor of Social Work & Director of Field Education at AU • Nicki Britten, Health Officer for the Berrien County Health Department • Dr. Anita Fernander, Associate Professor of Behavioral Science in the College of Medicine at the University of Kentucky. Her primary area of research and teaching has focused on examining the impact of race-related stress on health disparities among African Americans. She is also the Founder & Chair of the Lexington-Fayette County Health Disparities Coalition. • Dr. Brandy Lovelady Mitchell, Director of Diversity, Equity & Inclusion for the Kent Intermediate School District The event planning committee includes Jerry Price (Manager for Inclusion & Diversity at Spectrum Health Lakeland), Carlisle Sutton (Director of Community Engagement, Integration & Services at Andrews University), Michael Nixon (Andrews University Vice President for Diversity and Inclusion), and Jeff Boyd (AU Office fo Research & Creative Scholarship). CREDITS ------------ THEME MUSIC: “Onward” by Podington Bear (Free Music Archive) PRODUCER: Jeff Boyd, Office of Research & Creative Scholarship EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS: Gillian Panigot & Stephen Payne (University Communications) COPYRIGHT: ©2020 Andrews University
Joe and Jaye continue up Highway 61 until they reach Grand Portage- home of the Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa (Ojibwe). Come along and find out what food item Jaye loves at the restaurant, explore the National Monument and hear about the rich history from Karl Koster, and then go for a hike at the Grand Portage State Park to the area's biggest waterfall (120 feet!). The area is rich in nature and history and Joe and Jaye couldn't wait to take it all in. This podcast is sponsored by Cascade Vacation Rentals - serving Northern Minnesota from Duluth to the Canadian border with over 175 properties to choose from- including over 75 pet-friendly properties. Reconnect to what's important(TM). Book your stay today at www.cascadevacationrentals.com.
In this episode the conversation turns toward themes of identity and how Indigenous artists find themselves communicating their identity in their art. Briand Morrison: Guitarist, Musician, Composer, son of the late George Morrison, the well-known visual artist, Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa Kayla Aubid: Writer, Lakota, Standing Rock Sioux Tribe Waase Aubid: Painter, artist, Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe Hosted by Leah Lemm and Cole Premo Theme Music: Cole Premo Special Music: “Spark in an Endless Black” by Cole Premo Links: Briand Morrison’s music: http://www.briandmorrison.com/ Native Lights Podcast is a production of Minnesota Native News and Ampers, Diverse Radio for Minnesota’s Communities, and made possible by funding from the Minnesota Arts and Culture Heritage Fund, and the citizens of Minnesota. Ampers is an association of 18 independent community radio stations in Minnesota, which are all licensed to a college, school, university, Native American tribe, or directly to the community. http://ampers.org/ Tell us what you think about this series by emailing us at: nativelights@ampers.org
The new governor of Minnesota agreesto continue an appeal of the controversial Enbridge Line 3 oil pipeline project Northern Cheyenne tribal members march to push lawmakers for more action on murdered and missing indigenous women And the longtime Grand Portage Band of Lake Superior Chippewa chairman is being remembered for his dedication to tribal economic development and public service
On this episode of Ojibwe Stories: Gaganoonididaa we talk with Michele Hakala-Beeksma about the precedents and the groundbreaking history of the Treaty of 1854 and why this enduring treaty still matters today . Michele Hakala-Beeksma has worked for the 1854 Treaty Authority for the past sixteen years. She is also the Vice-President of the St. Louis County Historical Society’s Board of Governors, a Member of the Society’s American Indian Advisory Committee, and a member of the Grand Portage Band of Chippewa. Ojibwe Stories: Gaganoonididaa is produced by KUMD, with funding provided in part by the Minnesota Indian Affairs Council, and by The Minnesota Arts and Cultural Heritage Fund.