Latest news with #IndianRemovalActof1830
The Star
14-05-2025
- Politics
- The Star
Glamour shots in a gulag
US homeland security secretary Noem speaking to the press as prisoners look on during her tour of the Terrorism Confinement Center in Tecoluca, El Salvador, in March. — Reuters THE image of Kristi Noem, the secretary of homeland security, posing in front of a cage filled with men shocked me. In late March, Noem travelled to El Salvador to visit the maximum-security prison to which more than 200 men had been sent by the United States. In the video of the visit, the men had shaved heads. Most are shirtless and wearing identical white shorts. Some of them stood facing the iron bars through which they were being filmed; others sat on bunks arranged in three levels. Every aspect of this visual – the bunks, the bars, the men visually stripped of their identities – harks back to images of 20th-century concentration camps. Noem, a member of the presidential administration, was there to brag that 'this facility is one of the tools in our tool kit.' And then there is the look she chose: beachy curls, athleisure, what appeared to be diamond rings, a baseball cap with an ICE logo, and, of course, the US$50,000 Rolex. Polished, female, in control: in every way the opposite of the people in cages. As though she were in a different category of human. The history of modern-day concentration camps is often traced to South Africa at the turn of the 20th century, during the Second Boer War, when the British interned more than 100,000 people. But the practice of rounding people up and confining them in subhuman conditions on the basis of belonging to a group and not for any individual action has roots in this country. Under the Indian Removal Act of 1830, tens of thousands of Native Americans were rounded up, imprisoned in camps, marched west and dumped in another place where they had no connection to the land; up to 25% died. British colonisers in Australia, Spanish colonisers in Cuba and, once again, Americans in the Philippines employed such practices in the next decades. Then came the camps in the USSR and Nazi Germany. If you don't know much of this history, that's because countries are generally ashamed of it. Twentieth-century dictators tried to keep the reality of their camps secret in real time. In Hitler's Germany, one could be punished for 'atrocity propaganda' for speaking publicly about the camps. In Soviet Russia, famous writers and filmmakers were taken on carefully staged visits to the camps so they could portray these places as happy educational experiences for citizens in need of reform. Even then president Andrew Jackson claimed that the deportation of Native tribes was driven by a concern for their wellbeing. The Trump administration has chosen to flaunt its concentration camps – to brag about them. The display is meant to terrify, to be sure, but secret concentration camps can scare people just as much. The message here is that neither laws nor shame will stop the terror, for this administration has no regard for the former and, apparently, no capacity for the latter. — 2025 The New York Times Company This article originally appeared in The New York Times
Forbes
04-04-2025
- Politics
- Forbes
Stand Strong, Stay Rooted: Fighting Displacement In Native Communities
Displacement is often seen as history, but for Native communities, it remains a daily reality—driven by economic pressures, climate change, and cultural erasure. For generations, we have fought to remain on our lands. Displacement isn't a single event; it's an ongoing struggle embedded in systems that threaten our homes, economies, and sovereignty. Today, it takes the form of rising housing costs, land dispossession, and climate crises—disrupting families, disconnecting youth from their heritage, and undermining Tribal Nations' ability to shape their own futures. During Oweesta's visit to Aloha ʻĀina Poi Company—a farmer-owned initiative committed to strengthening community through kalo farming—the Oweesta team got our hands in the soil: planting 2,000 kalo seeds, harvesting 157 leaves, and processing hundreds of pounds of kalo into poi. In support of their vision to cultivate the next generation of farmers, Oweesta proudly presented Aloha ʻĀina Poi Company with a $250,000 contribution. We must confront this challenge head-on—not just to protect what's ours, but to reclaim our right to thrive, build wealth, and secure a legacy of self-determination. As the nation's longest-standing Native CDFI intermediary, Oweesta partners with Indigenous communities to restore economic power. Through access to capital, financial education, and culturally rooted systems, we support Native-led solutions to displacement. When Native people have the resources to lead, they do more than resist—they reclaim, restore, and build lasting models of resilience for generations to come. The Realities of Displacement in Native Communities Displacement in Native communities has never been accidental—it has been systemic, sustained, and sanctioned by law. From the Indian Removal Act of 1830 to the Indian Relocation Act of 1956 and the Termination Era policies, federal legislation intentionally fractured Tribal Nations, severing Native peoples from their lands, cultures, and community ties. These policies inflicted generational trauma, dismantled local economies, and imposed structural barriers that continue to shape Indigenous realities today. But displacement didn't end with those acts - it evolved. Today, Native communities face housing insecurity, economic exclusion, cultural erasure, and climate disruption. These modern forces don't operate in isolation-they layer upon one another, making it increasingly difficult for Native people to remain in, return to, or build thriving futures in their own homelands. Housing Displacement Native American homeownership rates remain among the lowest in the United States. This disparity is not due to a lack of interest or capacity among Native families but stems from systemic barriers within financial systems that were not designed to serve them. One significant challenge is the difficulty in securing lenders willing and equipped to offer mortgages on trust lands. The perceived legal and bureaucratic complexities associated with lending on Tribal lands lead many financial institutions to avoid them entirely, perpetuating exclusion and deepening inequalities. Notably, Native Community Development Financial Institutions (CDFIs) are among the few entities making these mortgages a reality for families. Oweesta had the honor of visiting a housing encampment near Waiʻanae Small Boat Harbor, led by the inspiring Twinkle Borge. Through her unwavering advocacy with Puʻuhonua o Waiʻanae Mauka, Twinkle has built a powerful movement rooted in dignity and community Today, she and her community support over 200 families in their current location—and they're actively building a permanent, culturally grounded village to call home. In support of this vision, Oweesta proudly contributed $250,000 to help bring Puʻuhonua o Waiʻanae Mauka to life. Additionally, many Tribal communities are situated in very rural and remote areas, making it challenging to access housing services that are readily available in more urban settings. These areas often face a severe shortage of qualified appraisers, complicating the assessment of home values and the securing of loans. Construction efforts are similarly hindered by a lack of builders willing to work in Tribal areas and the need to develop essential infrastructure such as roads, water systems, and electricity. These factors further drive-up building costs and limit the availability of affordable housing. Moreover, Tribal lands are under threat from developers and extractive industries seeking to profit from natural resources. Predatory real estate tactics-such as inflated land valuations that push Native families out, coercive buyouts, and exploitative leasing agreements-undermine Tribal sovereignty and destabilize Native economies. Without protective policies and targeted investments, Native communities will continue to be denied access to land, housing, and wealth-building opportunities. Climate Displacement Climate change is rapidly driving displacement in Native communities, compounding centuries of struggle to remain on ancestral lands. Rising sea levels, extreme heat, wildfires, and droughts are already forcing Native families to leave the lands they have long fought to protect. Tribal Nations—especially in coastal, forested, and arid regions—are facing these threats first and worst. Many Native communities, already displaced by federal policy, now face climate-driven relocation. Homes are being lost, sacred sites are disappearing, and the deep cultural ties to place are at risk. In Alaska, the Native Village of Newtok is moving due to coastal erosion and permafrost melt, while in Louisiana, the Isle de Jean Charles Band of Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw was among the first to receive federal climate relocation funding. Across the Southwest, megadroughts are making traditional agriculture untenable. Yet, Native communities often lack equitable access to federal climate resources. Planning support, relocation funding, and disaster aid rarely reach Tribal Nations at the scale needed, forcing them to navigate these crises largely alone. Addressing climate displacement in Indian Country requires more than environmental action—it demands policy change, investment in Tribal capacity, and respect for Indigenous sovereignty. Native communities must lead the way in climate resilience, as they have stewarded these lands since time immemorial. Economic Displacement Economic displacement remains one of the most enduring impacts of colonization, forcing Native families to leave their homelands—not by choice, but due to economic pressure. Generations of disinvestment, land dispossession, and federal restrictions have left Tribal communities without basic financial infrastructure. Banks are scarce, capital is limited, and Native entrepreneurs face steep barriers to building wealth. The result is a steady outflow of talent and leadership, weakening intergenerational ties and Tribal economies. In rural areas, lack of broadband, workforce investment, and transportation further hinders economic growth, while outside developers extract value without reinvesting in Native communities. But Native-led institutions are shifting this narrative. Native CDFIs, Tribally owned businesses, and sovereignty-centered economic development initiatives are reclaiming ground—creating jobs, financing homes, supporting entrepreneurs, and building localized wealth that stays in community. Still, without systemic investment and equitable access to capital, economic displacement will continue—pushing Native families away from the very communities they seek to strengthen. Cultural Displacement Displacement is also about losing spaces where languages, ceremonies, and ways of life thrive. Boarding schools, forced relocation, and assimilation policies disrupted the intergenerational transmission of knowledge. Today, cultural displacement continues through language loss, disappearance of communal spaces, and challenges of maintaining traditions in increasingly urbanized settings. This loss severs community bonds and diminishes the presence of Indigenous knowledge systems in public life. Oweesta's Commitment to Anti-Displacement At Oweesta, we believe ending displacement starts with Indigenous control over land, financial systems, and economic development. We support Native-led solutions that keep families rooted in place, culture, and community. By investing in Native CDFIs, we expand access to capital, promote homeownership, and grow local businesses—ensuring wealth stays within Native communities. Our financial capability programs equip families with the tools to build credit, increase savings, and achieve stability. Through policy advocacy, we work to ensure Native voices shape their economic futures. Our mission goes beyond resisting displacement—we are building lasting pathways to prosperity, cultural preservation, and thriving Native nations. Connecting Through Stories Displacement is not a single moment in time - it's a thread woven through generations. It reaches beyond the loss of land, housing, and policy decisions. It's about the ongoing systems designed to erase us - from the forced removals that pushed our ancestors from their homelands to the barriers that prevent homeownership today, to the extractive industries that continue to chip away at what remains. It's rising waters, burning lands, and the disappearance of spaces where our languages, ceremonies, and ways of being once thrived. But the story of our communities is not only one of loss - it is a story of survival. Displacement may have shaped our histories, but it has never defined us. Across generations, Native people have resisted, adapted, and reclaimed. These are stories of strength - of returning, rebuilding, and renewing what was meant to be erased. By reconnecting with our histories, we begin to understand the full impact of how displacement continues to shape our lives today. And in that understanding, we find clarity, purpose, and collective strength to confront the forces that still seek to divide and disrupt our communities. With support from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, Oweesta is launching a national social media project to explore how displacement continues to impact Native lives across the country. We invite you to share your story of resilience. Tag @Oweesta and use #StandStrongStayRooted. Together, we can build visibility, solidarity, and change. These aren't just stories—they are our truths. And by speaking them in the spaces where decisions are made, we push back against erasure and advocate for the recognition, resources, and respect our communities deserve. Displacement has never defined us. Our resilience has. Stand strong. Stay rooted.
