Latest news with #MaryAnnettePemberICT
Yahoo
17-04-2025
- Yahoo
Forensic DNA breaks new ground for MMIP cold cases
Mary Annette PemberICT The sight of a room full of human cadavers can be off-putting for some, but not for Haley Omeasoo. In fact, Omeasoo's comfort level and lack of squeamishness convinced her to pursue studies in forensics and how DNA can be used to solve crime and identify human remains, especially among Indigenous peoples. SUPPORT INDIGENOUS JOURNALISM. Omeasoo, a citizen of the Hopi Tribe and a descendant of the Blackfeet Nation, encountered the cadavers as part of a high school class trip to the University of Montana medical school, where she spent time in a college level anatomy class. 'Some people go there and pass out, but I thought, 'This is pretty cool,'' she told ICT. That visit to the University of Montana was a defining moment for the budding scientist. She realized that by gaining expertise in rapidly advancing forensic technology she could help put Indigenous peoples on equal footing with scientific research that has often targeted them but has seldom been used for their benefit. This imbalance of power is especially evident in the booming business and study of human DNA data, such as that generated by investigative genetic genealogical, or IGG, testing. For Omeasoo, forensic science is deeply personal. In 2017, her friend and classmate, Ashley Loring Heavy Runner went missing from her home in Browning, Montana, on the Blackfeet Reservation. Loring Heavy Runner has still not been found and no charges have been filed in the case. Born and raised in Browning on the Blackfeet Reservation, Omeasoo has long wanted to apply the study of forensics to help solve cases of missing and murdered people and identify human remains so that ancestors can be brought home. Using the science of genetic genealogical testing of DNA seemed to be a perfect fit, so at the age of 27, in 2024, she launched one of the first Indigenous-controlled DNA databases, Ohkomi Forensics. In the Blackfeet language, Ohkomi means 'to use one's voice.' 'There are so many cases like Ashley's that have gone unsolved,' she said, 'and so many families that have not received closure, answers or justice pertaining to their family members' cases.' Using DNA for MMIP Public interest in learning about ancestry helped fuel growth of direct-to-consumer DNA testing sites such as 23andMe and Ancestry, which use genetic genealogical testing. The potential applications for the huge databases created by these companies can seem to be drawn from the annals of science fiction. Beyond offering insight into a person's ancestry, the technology can be used to solve crimes, identify and predict genetic disorders, confirm a health diagnosis and determine which drugs work best for individuals, among myriad genetic testing has the power to offer a measure of healing for families and communities suffering from losses of loved ones, there is also potential for misuse of the data, however. Native people know all too well about unethical practices of researchers and their lack of culturally safe methodologies. They often have concerns about data ownership and privacy stemming from historical injustices and marginalization. For instance, researchers gathering data for a Havasupai diabetes study used tissue samples for other purposes unrelated to the initial study without informed consent. In 2010, Arizona State University agreed to pay $700,000 to 41 members of the tribe to settle claims about the misuse. The Bureau of Indian Affairs estimates that there are more than 4,000 missing and murdered cases of Native people that are unsolved, though law enforcement and advocates agree that that actual number is likely much higher. And for the country at large, the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, NamUS, reports that as many as 600,000 people are reported missing annually, with more than 11,000 sets of unidentified human remains held by medical examiners and coroners. Omeasoo's efforts to develop tribal expertise in IGG is especially timely. In February, the BIA's Missing and Murdered Unit announced its partnership with Othram, a private Texas-based company that uses IGG or forensic genetic genealogy, known as FGG, to help identify human remains as part of the agency's Operation Spirit Return. 'Cultural concerns' Omeasoo has long been interested in advancing and understanding the drivers of violence against Native women. Her master's degree research at the University of Montana in forensic anthropology and human biology helped sharpen her focus on how forensics can be used to address high rates of missing and murdered Indigenous peoples. She identified a correlation between skull fracture patterns and intimate partner or domestic violence. 'I found that Native American women between the ages of 25 to 44 were more likely to display these fracture patterns in association with domestic violence situations,' Omeasoo said. She notes that research correlating domestic violence to the high rates of MMIP in Indigenous communities is still emerging, but her work helps make that connection. The master's research led her to take a deeper dive into how DNA analysis could assist tribes in addressing the MMIP crisis. Omeasoo's doctoral research at the University of Montana in the forensic and molecular anthropology program examined the ethical considerations of performing genetic analysis on Indigenous peoples and human remains. Her work is also imbued with a belief in interconnectedness, in which all living things, including humans, are related and interdependent, a belief that is central to most Native cultures. Omeasoo is currently working with Blackfeet tribal members, leaders and elders to determine cultural protocols for collecting and using DNA data. For instance, in response to concerns about the destructive nature of DNA analysis when working with human remains, she uses a method that doesn't require the use of bone powder. 'For some tribes, giving up DNA is giving up a part of yourself; there are a lot of cultural concerns surrounding that,' Omeasoo said. She will receive her doctorate in May. Follow the money In years past, Native people were often discouraged or turned away by police when asking to submit DNA for comparison with unidentified remains. Cost was often a barrier, according to Amanda Takes War Bonnet-Beauvais, public education specialist with the Native Women's Society of the Great Plains. But as consumer DNA testing companies began cashing in on the public's interest in ancestry, they began offering the service at prices around $100, encouraging many people – including Native Americans - to submit their DNA to the sites. 'What started with one of us in our family doing a DNA test soon spread to other members,' Takes War Bonnet-Beauvais told ICT. 'There are so many Native Americans on ancestry DNA sites now.' Takes War Bonnet-Beauvais, of the Oglala Sioux Tribe, is a former journalist with Indian Country Today and has researched the history and ancestry of her family and tribe. The recent bankruptcy of the popular consumer genetic company, 23andMe, however, is shining a light on the potential monetary value of genetic databases and the dearth of privacy regulations protecting sensitive and personal information. In its contract with customers, 23andMe states that there is a possibility that its data would be sold if it goes into bankruptcy. The company's profit was tied to the public's demand for ancestry DNA testing kits, but as interest declined so did the company's profits. But its enormous data set, which includes about 15 million DNA samples, could be invaluable for some industries. According to Fortune Business Insights, the global forensic technology market, which includes IGG data, was valued at $5.65 billion in 2024 and is expected to rise to nearly $10 billion by 2032. Medical, pharmaceutical and forensic industries, often backed by wealthy venture capitalist groups,are in a race to acquire these rich databases. Investors such as Gigafund, a venture capitalist firm that has investments in futuristic companies such as billionaire Elon Musk's SpaceX and Neurolink, are also betting on the value of DNA and genetic data. In 2021, Gigafund invested $18 million in Othram, a company specializing in forensic genetic genealogy, or FGG. In the meantime, the public is struggling to understand the entirety of uses for genetic data. GEDMatch, a company that compares DNA samples among companies and whose work helped identify the Golden State Killer in California in 2018, acknowledged the uncertainties in its terms-of-service page. 'We cannot predict what the future holds for DNA or genealogy research,' according to terms of service from GEDMatch. 'We cannot predict what the future will be for GEDmatch. It is possible that, in the future, GEDmatch will merge with, or operations will be transferred to other individuals or entities.' In a study released in 2024 by the Center for Medical Ethics and Health Policy at Baylor College of Medicine in Houston and the Department of Bioethics and Humanities at the University of Washington in Seattle, researchers interviewed experts working in the IGG industry. One genetic genealogist summarized the nascent industry as the 'Wild, Wild West.' 'I don't know who, or what companies specifically, would want to buy 23andMe,' Katie Hasson, associate director at the Center for Genetics and Society told the Washington Post in a recent interview. 'But we are seeing the ways that our personal data is being vacuumed up and collated, and sold to different companies for marketing, targeting for ads, and who knows where it goes from there.' Gigafund did not respond to an email request for comment from ICT asking about its interest in IGG or the company's speculation about future uses for the technology. 'More resources' Many in Indian Country, however, are more concerned with the immediate benefits for their communities. 'More resources, more help, it's always going to be a good thing, especially when we're in crisis mode of our people going missing,' Lummi Nation Chairman Anthony Hillaire told the Cascadia Daily News regarding additional funding allocated by the Washington state legislature for DNA testing of unidentified remains. 'Thanks to the BIA Missing and Murdered Unit and its partners, our Operation Initiative will help return missing relatives to their families, so that they can be comforted knowing their loved ones have come home,' said Bryan Mercier, director of the BIA, exercising the delegated authority of the Assistant Secretary for Indian Affairs in a February 2025 press release. 'We've approved 15 cases so far for the testing process,' William Horton, regional agent in charge of the BIA's Missing and Murdered Unit, told ICT. In January, investigators identified the remains of Michelle Elbow Shield, a 26-year-old mother of two reported missing by her family in December 2023, according to Horton. Elbow Shield was a citizen of the Oglala Lakota tribe and lived in Rapid City. The Rapid City Police and BIA are still investigating the case. The BIA contracts with Othram, and a direct DNA sample provided by a relative allowed investigators to confirm Elbow Shield's identity. The BIA has long used DNA as an investigative tool through databases such as the Combined DNA Index System, known as CODIS, which is maintained by the FBI, Horton said. But the DNA data kept in CODIS is from people who have been arrested or convicted of serious crimes and consists of sequences of DNA known as short tandem repeat, or STR, that can identify an individual using 13 to 20 markers. An STR profile can be used to identify and compare DNA samples from crime scenes and convicted offenders. But the technology used by direct-to-consumer genetic testing companies such as Ancestry, 23andMe or MyHeritage is based on genetic genealogy, a blend of DNA analysis and genealogic research. It examines far smaller bits of DNA — up to 500,000 single nucleotides instead of segments — and can identify not only an individual but even very distant relatives, providing information about appearance and health. In criminal investigations, this technique is called forensic genetic genealogy, FGG, or investigative genetic genealogy, IGG. It can also be used to amplify very small samples of DNA through techniques such as polymerase chain reaction, PCR. Using amplification techniques like PCR , scientists can produce millions of copies of specific DNA segments to create a profile even from trace or degraded bits of DNA. The implications for solving cold cases and identifying human remains are massive. David Mittleman, chief executive officer of Othram explains how it works. 'Think of DNA like a radar system — when we search a DNA profile, we don't usually get an exact match, but we do get 'pings' from people who share some DNA with the unknown person,' he said. 'These pings don't tell us physical distance, like a traditional radar, but instead reveal genetic distance — how closely related two people are.' The company uses what is called Forensic Grade Genome Sequencing, or FGGS, to create a detailed DNA profile, which is then compared to a database of people who voluntarily shared their DNA for genealogical research. 'Traditional forensic DNA testing, like what's used in CODIS, only works if an exact match is already in the system — like a direct suspect or a close relative,' Mittleman said. 'When we run this search, we get a radar-like map of genetic relatives—some close, some distant. From there, we work with investigators to piece together family connections, building a path that can lead to identifying the unknown person or suspect.' Othram works directly with law enforcement but also operates DNASolves, a database that allows the public to upload their DNA data already purchased from direct-to-consumer databases for free. It also allows the public to upload their DNA directly for testing for a fee. Othram did not respond to ICT about cost, but other forensic testing sites charge between $200 to $1,500 for the service, which doesn't provide any ancestry or health information for the client. DNASolves uses crowdfunding and public donations to fund its work. Othram, however, is a for-profit company that charges law enforcement for its services. The company also includes other public 'consented' databases in its searches. For those people participating in BIA investigations, testing is paid for by the agency, according to Mittleman. In addition to lab techniques, forensic genealogy also uses Artificial Intelligence, AI-driven analysis to interpret genetic relationships, he said. Mittleman said Othram works only with forensic data. 'Since we don't want to create any concerns, we completely avoid the medical space,' he said. Genetic links Since genetic genealogy can identify so many distant generations of relatives from just one sample, the more people who submit DNA to such data bases, the more powerful the data becomes, potentially showing connections among entire populations. Krystal Tsosie, Diné, a geneticist and epidemiologist at Arizona State University, notes that due to smaller population sizes among Native communities, even a single individual's genomic data can reveal connections to many relatives. So Omeasoo's goal of obtaining 100 DNA samples from Blackfeet citizens whose entire population is around 15,000 could link thousands of people, making the resulting data set incredibly revealing. According to a study published in the Columbia Science Technology Law Review in 2019, a database only needs to cover approximately 2 percent of a population in order to provide a third-person match to nearly every person in that population. Cece Moore, actress and genetic genealogist, spoke of the crime-solving potential of genetic genealogy in an interview with the Intercept. 'I really believe we can stop serial killers from existing, stop serial rapists from existing,' said Moore, who has worked for the popular PBS show, 'Finding Your Roots.' Indeed, in 2018 data from a public genetic genealogy website helped police catch Joseph DeAngelo, the Golden State Killer, alleged to be responsible for at least a dozen murders and about 50 rapes in California during the 1970s and 1980s. One of DeAngelo's distant relatives uploaded their DNA profile created by a direct-to-consumer company to a free, public website in which users agree that their data can be used by law enforcement. There is no broad federal law in the U.S. specifically governing use of direct-to-consumer genetic testing, and different states have their own rules about genomic privacy and how genetic data can be used. Some states are strict about unauthorized use of genetic info, while others are more relaxed. Because of privacy concerns, states like Maryland and Montana now require search warrants for accessing consumer DNA databases. The DNA data held by 23andMe was off limits to law enforcement without a search warrant, but if the data is sold, there's no guarantee on how it would be used. Officials, however, didn't need a court order to search the public site, GEDMatch, where DeAngelo's relative had uploaded their data. Police obtained a sample of DeAngelo's DNA from a trash can in order to match him with the available evidence. Many public sites such as GEDMatch and FamilyTreeDNA allow users to use their DNA to find relatives and explore family history. They also allow users to opt-in to database searches by law enforcement. Laws are also lax on how genetic testing can be used to reveal information about people's risks for certain diseases and other health problems. The data isn't protected by the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act, known as HIPAA, unless the DNA was submitted as part of a person's health care. Critics caution that the large and rich datasets could be of interest to industries such as health insurance companies to identify customers with increased health risks, by pharmaceutical companies to market drugs to people with certain conditions, and by market researchers to understand consumer preferences and behaviors and other uses. The Electronic Frontier Foundation, a nonprofit organization defending civil liberties, argues that law enforcement use of IGG or FGG data is unconstitutional, violating the Fourth Amendment prohibiting unreasonable searches and seizures. Critics further caution that law enforcement and government could use the data for surveillance or to prosecute less-serious crimes. In recognition of such concerns Moore launched a new nonprofit database, the DNA Justice Foundation, that caters only to law enforcement. Data sovereignty Community control of data is central to Omeasoo's work and that of other Native scientists. For instance, Tsosie leads a movement called "DataBack" aimed at returning control of Indigenous genomic data to Native peoples and their tribes and emphasizing the importance of genomic health equity. Tsosie, an assistant professor at Arizona State University's School of Life Sciences, advocates for more Indigenous scientists and leaders to reclaim control over their DNA data and emphasizes the need for global recognition of Indigenous data sovereignty as a fundamental right. In her Ph.D dissertation, Omeasoo explored why DNA analysis can be controversial from an Indigenous perspective. She noted, for instance, that DNA research could be used to trace Indigenous migration patterns throughout the world and in the process re-import racist categories into science. This research, she writes, becomes a powerful tool for colonizing states to appropriate Indigenous bodies, living and dead, reducing them to cultural artifacts supporting Western academic knowledge without the added benefit of Indigenous knowledge and perspective. DNA data surrounding health is also concerning for many Native people, according to Omeasoo. Researchers have long pursued proof of the thrifty gene hypothesis, suggesting a single gene predisposes Indigenous peoples to type 2 diabetes. According to studies by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, Native Americans are 1.5 times more likely to be diagnosed with type 2 diabetes than other populations. Among Native people in the U.S., researchers have maintained that the Akimel O'oodham or Pima tribes which includes the Salt River Pima-Maricopa Indian Community, are reputed to have the highest rates of the disease in the world, rates attributable to genetic predisposition. But more in-depth genetic studies of the hypothesis in connection to the Akimel O'Oodham have shown that the population shows no genetic evidence to support the thrifty gene theory. Rather, the high rates of type 2 diabetes are attributed to complex environmental, economic and social factors. Embracing the future Omeasoo is currently working to identify human remains, likely of the Blackfeet tribe, that are part of a collection of Indigenous remains held by the University of Montana. Before beginning the work, however, Omeasoo had the research approved by the Blackfeet Nation's institutional review board which oversees research within the community, ensuring ethical treatment and protecting Indigenous knowledge and communities from harm. Omeasoo advertised information to the community about the project which also includes a goal of solving MMIP cases. 'Participation is 100 percent voluntary,' she said. She collected 105 samples in less than two hours. Her goal was 100 samples. 'We advertised for about a month or so to get the word out and set up the collection site; the community really showed up,' Omeasoo said. 'We aren't looking at the whole genome [which reveals health factors] in this project, which was what the community was concerned about; we are only looking at family heritage,' she said. Omeasoo sees the project as a pilot study that other tribes may embrace in the future. 'Hopefully it will show other tribes that the system works to identify our family members and bring them home without paying these large companies,' she said. According to Omeasoo, this would allow tribes to ensure data sovereignty. Looking ahead Omeasoo is currently looking for additional sponsors and donors to support Ohkomi. Early on, she received $25,000 from Season of Justice, a nonprofit organization that provides funding for investigative agencies and families to help solve cold cases. The organization was founded by Ashley Flowers, founder and chief creative officer of Audiochuck, the media company that produces Crime Junkie, a popular true crime podcast that has aired several episodes dedicated to exploring MMIP cases. The donation allowed Omeasoo to purchase her own field equipment. 'Aside from our lab work, we actually go out and search for missing people, too,' she said. 'There are no strings attached to Season of Justice's funding which is so cool.' Indigenous DNA testing sites have not attracted the interest of venture capitalists like Gigafund. Okhomi buys DNA testing kits from Qiagen, a company offering technology and testing DNA testing products 'They (Qiagen) just sell me the testing kits; I do all the work and then the tribe is able to own its own database,' she said. Omeasoo is working on building relationships with law enforcement both on and off the reservation. 'Sometimes tribal law enforcement isn't very receptive to outside help but since Okhomi comes from the community, I'm hoping to establish and build trust,' she said. The goal is to test and solve cases on a local level. 'Since I work at the University of Montana's forensics lab, we have a memo of understanding with the Montana State Crime lab,' she said. The pain of searching for loved ones strikes an intimate chord for Omeasoo, who is a mother of two. 'There are so many families that are still looking for answers within our tribe and across the nation,' Omeasoo said. 'As Indigenous people we are all impacted by this issue; just one person giving their DNA could possibly give a family a chance for knowledge and relief.' Mittleman agrees. 'Getting families pieced back together by finding their loved ones and catching people who do bad things and exonerating those wrongly accused of doing bad things is our focus at Othram,' he said. Neither Okhomi nor Othram claim ownership or control of DNA data in their databases. 'If we take someone's DNA, they sign a consent form indicating exactly what it's being used for,' said Horton, the regional BIA agent. 'It will not be available to any of these civilian databases.' Mittle said the protections are important. 'I don't think it's a shock that Native American communities would be suspicious or concerned about how their data is used; they haven't necessarily been treated well by the government over the years,' Mittleman said. "No one wants to see a rapist or murderer go free, but they also want to feel comfortable that their data is being used for their intended purposes.' In the end, Horton hopes that DNA testing can bring closure to Native American families whose loved ones are missing or have been victims of crimes. Omeasoo envisions working directly with law enforcement and other accredited forensic companies in order to offer truth, healing and reconciliation to Native communities and beyond. Her vision could soon become a reality. In April, the Department of Justice announced a surge in FBI efforts to solve violent crime in Indian Country. 'After all,' she said, 'We're all kind of related somehow.' Our stories are worth telling. Our stories are worth sharing. 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Yahoo
17-02-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Tribal funding caught in crossfire from Trump administration
Mary Annette PemberICT Just two weeks after the 50th anniversary of the signing of the Indian Self-Determination and Education Assistance Act, President Donald Trump launched a series of executive orders and federal layoffs that have put billions of dollars in tribal funding back into the spotlight. Nearly every tribe in Indian Country relies at least in part on the transformational self-determination act, known as Public Law 638. It helps fund essential services such as hospitals, health clinics, education, climate projects, agriculture, law enforcement, firefighting and other programs under the United States' trust and treaty obligations. Attorney Lloyd Miller, an Indian law expert, told ICT the act provided a monumental boost to tribal sovereignty. 'The statute is a powerful means, I would almost say a weapon, for tribes to seize back control of local government services,' said Miller, a partner at Sonosky, Chambers, Sachse, Miller and Monkman law firm. SUPPORT INDIGENOUS JOURNALISM. Most tribes, however, also have opted to receive some direct federal funding for projects or services, which allows them to receive funds from the U.S. government while still having tribal oversight of the programs. Both of those options, however, have been upended since Trump was sworn in on Jan. 20. In his first day back in office, the Trump administration ordered a freeze of federal grants and loans, throwing into question whether so-called 638 contracts would be among the programs targeted. The Trump administration later rescinded the order, but tribes have reported ongoing problems accessing the funding for their programs. Then, on Thursday, Feb. 13, the Trump administration announced layoffs of hundreds of thousands of probationary federal employees across the U.S., including thousands working under the Indian Health Service, the Department of the Interior, the Bureau of Indian Affairs, the Bureau of Indian Education and other agencies. Officials later rescinded the layoffs for IHS workers amid complaints they would be 'catastrophic' for Native communities. The federal employees targeted for layoff, who had been hired within the last year or two and were not yet eligible for civil service protection, included some direct-fund positions but were not 638-funded jobs, officials told ICT. About two-thirds of tribal governments operate services entirely or partially under 638 contracts or compacts. Most also receive some direct funding as well. 'Nearly all tribes have at least one self-determination contract and one direct service still being provided by the federal government, ' said Jay Spaan, Cherokee, executive director of the Self-Governance Communication and Education Tribal Consortium. The consortium is hosting a conference April 7 in Chandler, Arizona, commemorating passage of the act and its impact. Under the act, tribes assume control and funding over health, education, housing, governance and other programs. Prior to the passage of the act in 1975, tribes received services directly from the federal government, which determined the types and amounts of funding with little consultation from tribal citizens and leadership. In the 1970s, Congress transitioned to a policy of self-determination for tribes. In his July 1970 address to Congress, President Richard Nixon laid out the beginning of the self-determination policy. 'We must make it clear that Indians can become independent of federal control without being cut off from federal concern and support,' Nixon said. The act, signed on Jan. 4, 1975, requires the federal government to give tribes the same amount of money it had or would spend to operate a given program or service. If the tribe makes a request to take over a federal program serving its citizens, the government must agree. Although there are various ways in which tribes can enter into 638 agreements with the government, the overall rules governing the process make clear that the 638 contracts are agreements between sovereign nations — tribal nations and the U.S. government. 'There's absolutely no law authorizing the President to cease 638 payments or any other federal dollars going to Indian Country,' said Matthew Fletcher, professor at the University of Michigan Law School and co-director of the university's Program in Race, Law and History. 'Any assertion of the power to stop payments because money supposedly supports 'DEI' or 'wokeness' is just a pure power play that no judge should allow,' said Fletcher, a citizen of the Grand Travers Band of Ottawa and Chippewa Indians who is the author of Turtle Talk, a leading blog on Indian law. When the self-determination statute was first enacted, tribes were limited to contracting services, and soon found that the government was reluctant to hand over control, effectively thwarting the self-determination element intended by Congress, according to Miller. In the 1980s and 1990s, tribally led initiatives helped amend the statute to add new authority, called self-governance compacting. Compacting moves away from treating tribes as contractors and reinforces that they are sovereign governments with decision-making authority over how resources are used. Although the term 638 is often used to broadly describe both compacts and contracts, there is an important distinction. Compacted tribes have the freedom to consolidate federal programs and get lump-sum funding to administer them. Among the benefits of 638 agreements is the ability for tribes to move money from one program to another if necessary and to supplement funding through revenue from tribal businesses. Indian policy experts agree that self-determination has been very successful for tribes and their citizens and has brought sustained economic development. In 1970, the unemployment rate for Native people was 10 times the national average, and 40 percent of the Native population lived below the poverty line. Overall, federal spending per person on Native Americans was only two-thirds of the spending on the average non-Native U.S. citizen. In health, the comparable figure was 50 percent; in education, tribal funding was only 50-60 percent off the federal amount spent on mainstream education. After the 1975 passage of the act, the rate of Native families in poverty declined by over 23 percent, according to a report by the Harvard Project on American Indian Economic Development. The average income for Native Americans living on reservation increased by 61 percent from 1989 until 2022, and crowded housing declined by nearly 50 percent between 1990 and 2010. Experts attribute the growth to the increase in 638 services. The Administration for Native Americans, part of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, notes that the statute has meant greater authority for tribes over their governmental services and programs, with the ability to make decisions, control funds and allocate services where needed. And tribal citizens aren't the only people who benefit from self-determination programs. In rural areas, tribal entities may be among the top employers, and the 37 tribal colleges and universities in the U.S. attract many non-Native students The latest actions by the Trump administration, however, have created funding problems for tribes. In the past, tribes have been able to 'draw down' from the agreed-upon funding as needed through the Bureau of Indian Affairs or the Indian Health Service through its Tribal Self-Governance Program. Since the Trump funding freeze was announced in January, however, tribes have had difficulty accessing the digital portals to receive reimbursement from the 638 funds, according to Native leaders who were not authorized to speak on behalf of individual tribes. Even after a federal judge issued a sweeping order to free up the funds, tribes reported holdups in accessing the money. 'This is like nothing we've seen before,' said Aaron Payment, a board member of the Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians in Michigan and a former vice president of the National Congress of American Indians. 'The freeze is far more serious than the two-month government shutdown in 2015.' Some tribes have the capacity to pull financial resources from other sources, he said, but there is no guarantee that they will be reimbursed later. How the funds are accessed can vary. Some tribes get 638 funding from the government per fiscal year, and by the end of October, they have received their funding for the year. For some programs, however, such as those associated with the Department of Housing and Urban Development, 638 funding is drawn down by tribes on a monthly basis. And with some federal grant programs, such as those under the Environmental Protection Agency, funding may be structured under a reimbursement agreement. Another stumbling block for tribes in receiving the agreed-upon federal funding is the timeliness of agencies in releasing money. Under the Prompt Payment Act, the government gets an additional 30 days past the due date to release funding. The funding depends on Congress, however. According to the Impoundment Control Act of 1974, the president can seek reduction in funding previously appropriated by Congress for federal activities, but only if the reduction is approved by a majority of each chamber of Congress. The reductions would not apply to funding that had already been approved; it would apply only to future funding. Some tribes have opted for other methods of funding. Rather than take over federal services and programs via 638, some tribes receive federal services through direct funding, in which agencies such as the Indian Health Service manage and provide services to the tribe. Miller and Payment agree that 'direct-service' tribes are especially vulnerable to government shutdowns or executive orders such as those issued recently by Trump. The Sault St. Marie tribe, a direct-service tribe, lost two doctors and two nurse practitioners during the 2015 government shutdown, according to Payment. Subsequently, the tribe passed a resolution allowing them to move funds around as needed in the future. Related stories:——— The layoffs announced on Feb. 13 are believed to have impacted more than 3,500 workers across Indian Country. In addition to the 950 in the Indian Health Service, the layoffs targeted 2,600 workers at the Department of the Interior, 118 BIA workers, two positions in the Office of Assistant Secretary of Indian Affairs, and about half the Office of Tribal Justice at the Department of Justice. The BIE was expected to lose about 40 employees. Two BIE tribal colleges, Haskell Indian Nations University in Kansas and Southwestern Indian Polytechnic Institute in New Mexico, were also expected to face layoffs. Sources told ICT that Haskell was expected to lose 24 percent of its staff and could face loss of accreditation. The Trump administration's proposed 'buyout' offer for federal civilian employees – the legality of which has been challenged – could also impact direct-service tribes, Miller said. There is no guarantee, for example, that doctors and other healthcare workers accepting the buyouts could be replaced. 'It would have a devastating impact for direct-service tribes,' Miller said. 'The direct-service tribes are in a vulnerable position. They are much more subject to the whims of the political process.' Miller cautioned that it is too early to fully understand the Trump administration's decisions on tribes, and notes there's no evidence that the administration set out to hurt tribes specifically with the recent actions. 'The new administration doesn't even have people in place yet to begin making more granular decisions about what is appropriate,' he said. He and Payment agree that the decision-making so far appears to reflect a lack of knowledge about tribes and the federal government's trust and treaty obligations. Payment noted that the position of Tribal Advisor to the Office of Management and Budget has not been filled by the Trump administration. The former advisor, Elizabeth Molle-Carr, a citizen of the Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians, issued a statement during the Biden administration's final White House Nations Summit in December. 'Appointing a tribal advisor to [the Office of Management and Budget] has ensured that tribal voices are not just heard but fully considered and integrated into federal decision-making,' she said. It's unclear if the position will be filled during the new administration or if anyone is in place to speak up for tribes. In a webinar presented by called, 'The New Normal: The Chaos of the First Two Weeks of the Trump Administration,' Ernest Stevens Jr., chairman of the Indian Gaming Commission, called on tribes and tribal organizations to unify their response to threats to tribal sovereignty. 'We (tribes) can't afford to think this is going away,' he said. A coalition of national and regional Native organizations — including the National Congress of American Indians, Native American Rights Fund, National Indian Health Board, National Indian Education Association and the Indian Gaming Association — sent a letter to Trump and leaders in Congress calling on them to ensure that the United States' trust and treaty obligations do not 'become collateral damage in the Trump administration's implementation of its other priorities such as limiting diversity, equity, inclusivity.' The coalition held an emergency meeting on Friday, Feb. 14, and issued a second letter to Trump calling on the administration to issue exemptions to the layoff of workers involved in providing tribal services that are obligated under trusts and treaties. The cutbacks could have 'unintended life or death consequences' for tribal citizens who rely on the services, according to the letter, a copy of which was obtained by ICT. The coalition letter was followed up with a letter written by U.S. Sen. Ben Ray Luján, a Democrat from New Mexico, that was signed by nine other U.S. senators asking the administration to halt the layoffs of Indian Health Service staff. 'Tribal Nations have a legal and political relationship with the United States, and the federal government has a fundamental obligation to fulfill its treaty and trust responsibilities to Tribal Nations – an obligation that includes providing services such as health care to Native communities,' the letter states. The Trump administration initially responded by exempting doctors, nurses and other critical care staff from layoffs. Newly confirmed Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. followed up late Friday by halting all layoffs within the Indian Health Service, sources told ICT. The Coalition of Large Tribes, COLT, issued an emergency resolution in support of a tribal exemption from any funding freeze or revaluation of services to tribal governments or citizens. Details of the layoffs, meanwhile, continue to emerge across Indian Country as communities began to learn about the tearful calls and abrupt emails that gave federal employees just a few hours to leave the buildings where they had worked. The aftermath has left some officials wondering whether tribes will move to drop the direct funding option altogether in favor of 638 funds. 'I think nothing's off the table at this point because … we have to be innovative in our problem solving and addressing these unique challenges that are arising,' said Tasha R. Mousseau, vice president of Wichita and Affiliated Tribes in Anadarko, Oklahoma. Mousseau is Wichita, Kiowa, and Caddo. 'We are a self-governance tribe,' she said. 'When we think about the federal government, there's a legal obligation for them to provide health care. I would argue there's also a moral obligation to do that as well.' Stevens, with the National Indian Gaming Commission, said the impact of federal funding cuts would be widespread. 'If the administration comes for us,' he said, 'they are coming for America.' Jourdan Bennett-Begaye contributed to this report. Our stories are worth telling. Our stories are worth sharing. Our stories are worth your support. Contribute today to help ICT carry out its critical mission. Sign up for ICT's free newsletter.
Yahoo
10-02-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Tribal sovereignty at center of Wisconsin road dispute
Mary Annette PemberICT LAC DU FLAMBEAU, Wisconsin — Dave Kievet never dreamed he'd know so much about Indian land tenure, federal Indian policy and tribal history. But as a non-Native homeowner living on one of four roads entangled in a dispute over right-of-way easements between the Lac du Flambeau Band of Lake Superior Chippewa Indians and a nearby town, he's become a quick study. He's one of dozens of homeowners forced to use the roads through tribal lands to access their properties, and though he shares his neighbors' frustrations over what seems to be a never-ending bureaucratic struggle, he has also gained understanding of the tribe's position. SUPPORT INDIGENOUS JOURNALISM. Now he's convinced the solution to the problem should come at the national level. 'I firmly believe that Congress needs to step in and fix this,' he said. 'They could buy back the land from the homeowners and give it back to the tribe.' The dispute over the easements have been simmering for years, since the expirations began more than 10 years ago of four leases that had allowed nontribal members to access their properties by using roads that cross through tribal lands. The easements are paid agreements in which the property owner — the Lac du Flambeau tribe — allows nonmembers to use the roads. After more than a decade of failed negotiations over renewing the easements with property title companies and the town of Lac du Flambeau, however, tribal council members voted to set up barriers along the roads on Jan. 30, 2023. The barricades — chains strung between two concrete blocks — prevented homeowners from driving to and from their properties. The blockade shocked town residents, and homeowners took their case to the media and lawmakers. The outcry was immediate: How could an obscure 19th century Indian policy – the Dawes Act – block taxpaying property owners from their homes in a respectable vacation community? A federal judge refused to force the tribe to open the roads in response to a lawsuit brought by homeowners, but the tribe agreed to temporarily open the roads in exchange for monthly payments from the city. Now the dispute is tangled up in federal court, the new Trump administration apparently has blocked the federal government's ability to grant easements until further notice, and property owners are uncertain about their homes nestled among the lakes in northern Wisconsin. Interior Department officials did not respond for comment. John Johnson, president of the Lac du Flambeau tribe, said the temporary deal provides a window of opportunity for the town and title companies to make a viable offer to renew the easements. 'To be crystal clear, the tribe still expects compensation for unauthorized land use and disregard of our private property,' Johnson said in a statement. 'This includes expenses incurred over 10 years as well as terms to protect tribal lands from unauthorized use, so future generations of tribal membership can live peacefully without worry.' About 70 homeowners live in the nicely kept neighborhood built in the 1960s in the Town of Lac du Flambeau. Before the roads were briefly barricaded in 2023, the homeowners knew little about the easement issue that springs from the Indian Allotment Act, known as the Dawes Act, a 19th century federal Indian policy that granted allotments to individual Native people in an effort to break up large tribal land holdings. The act also allowed the federal government to open up what they described as excess or unallotted tribal lands to homesteaders. Poverty forced many Native allottees to sell their lands and much was lost for failure to pay taxes. By the time allotment ended in 1934, Native people had lost more than 90 million acres across the country. For Native Americans, the pain and trauma from such epic land losses remain today. But for the non-Native people around Lac du Flambeau, like most Americans, the policies negotiated by their forebears are part of a vague, long-ago past that has little impact on their lives today. The residents along the roads in question, however, soon found out that federal Indian policy is ancient history – until it isn't. Corporations and communities across the U.S. have faced similar situations in recent years. Many of the now-expired easements and lease agreements involving use of tribal lands were negotiated in the 1960s and 1970s, and most were conveyed by the Bureau of Indian Affairs without consultation with tribes. At the time, the negotiations and payments were largely perfunctory. When property developers began building the Lac du Flambeau homes in question, for example, they paid the BIA $88 for the original 50-year easements. Limited resources prevented tribal leaders from taking action. But those days are over. In January 2023, the Lac du Flambeau tribe blocked access to the roads and notified the title companies, town and property owners that the tribe wanted $20 million to remove the barricades and secure a 25-year right-of-way agreement. The money, they said, would pay for attorney's fees and a decade of trespassing. In February, the homeowners filed suit against the Lac du Flambeau Tribal Council seeking access to the properties. The tribe opened the roads a few weeks later by granting temporary access permits to the Town of Lac du Flambeau in exchange for monthly payments from the town. Those payments ended in August 2024 when the town said it had exhausted its $600,000 road budget paying for the temporary permits, according to federal court documents. By then, the federal government — acting at the direction of then-Interior Secretary Deb Haaland and the U.S. attorney general – had filed its own lawsuit against the Town of Lac Du Flambeau in May 2023 on behalf of the tribe and tribal allottees. The suit accuses the town of illegally trespassing on lands held in trust by the U.S. The town has maintained the roadways over the years, but the original easements began expiring in 2011, with the last easement expiring in February 2018, according to court documents. Earlier this year, U.S. District Judge William Conway issued an order affirming that the roadways should not be blocked while the cases were pending. Trial is set for May 19. Expired easements and leases like those in Lac du Flambeau are representing new opportunities for tribes to exercise sovereignty, according to the Indian Land Tenure Foundation, Johnson agrees. In an interview with the Wausau Pilot and Review, he said renegotiating the leases is part of a broader effort among tribes to exert sovereignty. 'It's happened in different states already,' Johnson said. 'We just want what's ours and we want to protect it.' Monte Mills, director of the Native American Law Center at the University of Washington School of Law, told the Wausau Pilot and Review that federal policy is more supportive of tribal self-determination and sovereignty in recent years. Today, negotiations for leases and rights-of-way through tribal lands require consultation with tribes involved. The Land Back movement, which began gaining traction around 2019, has been advocating for the return of Indigenous lands globally. In 2024, the Yurok Tribe in California entered into a co-management agreement with the National Park Service and California State Parks for a 125-acre stretch of land to be returned to the tribe in 2026. 'Give the land back to the first people as stewards of the lands,' said Yurok Chairman Joseph James. 'We know how to protect, to preserve and to take care of our land. This is what it looks like when we talk about land coming back to Indigenous people.' And the U.S. Department of the Interior returned three million acres of land to tribes through its Land Buy-Back Program that consolidates land and places it into trust for tribes. Local officials had been in discussions about the possibility of returning land back to the tribe as a means of settling the easement dispute. The Milwaukee Journal reported in August 2024 that Lac du Flambeau town leaders have asked state officials about the possibility, and held a special public meeting to ask Tom German, executive secretary of the state Board of Commission of Public Lands if such a thing were possible. The state board was created in 1848 to manage 1.5 million acres given to the state by the federal government. Much of that land was taken from Ojibwe tribes including the Lac du Flambeau tribe. Today, the board manages about 75,000 acres of land including some near the Lac du Flambeau reservation. Johnson has indicated in the past that the tribe is interested in getting land back. Kievet, who bought his home in Lac du Flambeau about 10 years ago, is among the non-Native homeowners whose access to their homes was cut off in 2023 by the tribe's road closures. 'We felt blindsided,' Kievet told ICT. 'The sheriff came by and delivered a note saying the tribe was going to close down the roads and then they closed them the next day. We got exactly one day's notice before they barricaded them.' Homeowners were worried about their health and safety, he said. 'People wondered what would happen during an emergency,' he said. In a press release, tribal leaders offered assurances that residents would have continued access to emergency services, mail delivery and waste disposal services. Leaders also detailed how tribal staff had reached out to residents with food and medicine deliveries and conducted wellness checks. 'They weren't blocked off from the world, we took very good care of them,' Johnson told ICT in a November 2024 interview. According to Johnson, the tribal police chief opened gates for residents when they had doctors' appointments or needed medicines. 'To me, this is unbelievable,' Kievet said. 'I'm being held hostage on my property and no one seems to care.' After the lawsuits were filed, community discussion turned heated. On its website, town leaders of Lac du Flambeau pleaded with citizens to tone down negative comments about the tribe on social media. 'The posting of disrespectful and/or intolerant messages only inflames emotions during a time when reason, common sense, and mutual respect must prevail, if resolution is to be achieved,' they wrote in a public statement, Homeowners turned to their state lawmakers. State Sen. Mary Felzkowski, a Republican from Tomahawk, and state Rep. Rob Swearingen, a Republican from Rhinelander, called on Wisconsin's Democratic Gov. Tony Evers to find a peaceful solution. Felzkowski and Swearingen issued a joint press release that cited 'rising tensions' and a need to 'deescalate' the situation. 'We cannot stress enough how vital it is for the governor to use all the tools at his disposal to find a peaceful resolution,' they said in the statement. 'With physical barriers going upon the roads used by residents, and rhetoric turning negative very quickly, it's imperative that action be taken immediately to ensure the safety of citizens who are not to blame for the current situation.' Felzkowski attended a Lac du Flambeau town meeting intended to resolve the issue, during which she said the homeowners were being held hostage and compared the tribe to terrorists, according to the Tomahawk Leader. Tribal leaders responded by officially banishing her from the reservation. Felzkowski said later that she regretted that 'she contributed to the narrative of division in this muddy conflict,' but noted that she 'didn't regret speaking up for her constituents.' In response to ICT's request for comment about the situation, Felzkowski's press director Cameil Bowler sent a statement on behalf of the senator. 'I am continuing to monitor the situation and work closely with involved parties including our federal partners,' according to the statement. 'Ensuring that homeowners have access to their properties is necessary and I am hopeful that the dispute can be solved in a timely and respectful manner.' The governor later visited the reservation to discuss the matter with tribal leaders. 'As this is an ongoing private dispute, my priority as governor is encouraging everyone in the area to engage amicably and peacefully to resolve this issue quickly,' Evers said. Johnson and council leaders say they understand their neighbors' anger and confusion. 'We feel for the individual property owners impacted by the title companies' refusal to negotiate in good faith over the course of 10 years,' Johnson said in a written statement. 'The tribe is fed up with the title companies' games. Title companies could have settled the situation by paying a fraction of what is being asked now.' Although the tribe took down the barricades, the disagreement, at times contentious and emotional, continues. In its typically restrained style, The New York Times described the Lac du Flambeau situation as 'complicated.' An understatement if there ever was one. Town leaders and homeowners maintain they were not aware they needed to take action to renew the easements. Kievet told ICT that when he purchased his home and property more than 10 years ago he was not aware of an easement that might block access to his home. Many of the houses are built along lakeshores, with some appraised at more than $500,000, in this well-known tourist community of upscale retirement and vacation homes. But since the easement dispute, according to Kievet, property values have plunged as much as 85 percent. 'My position is that I didn't do anything wrong,' Kievet said. 'I bought my property in fee simple; I have documentation that shows these roads are public.' But during a meeting in June 2024, town board supervisor Bob Hanson admitted town leaders believed that the title companies were taking care of the easement renewals. 'And they did not,' Hanson said. 'I'm including myself in this. We as a board did not follow up to make sure they were doing it.' First American Title Insurance Company, one of the companies involved, offered the tribe more than $1 million to settle the dispute but also demanded the tribe extend easements in perpetuity. Company representatives claim they followed the BIA process. This, however, runs counter to federal law as well as the tribe's constitution, which limits easement agreements to 25 years, according to Johnson. 'They told us, 'It's forever or nothing,'' Johnson told ICT. 'We can't even give forever permits to tribal members.' Johnson said the town and companies have disregarded the tribe's sovereignty, which allows them to enforce laws and regulations 'to preserve and protect the 12-by-12-square-mile reservation we have remaining after ceding millions of acres of land to the federal government.' Johnson expressed disgust with the federal government's repeated admonishments to mediate with the town and title companies. 'There's nothing to mediate,' he said. 'We're sick of getting pushed around all the time. How many times did someone on our reservation lose land because they couldn't pay taxes? Then it got sold off from underneath them.' Earlier this year, the tribe announced they would once again erect barricades along the roads only to reverse themselves after a federal judge ordered the roads remain open while the situation plays out. The judge issued an amended injunction instructing the federal government to take immediate action to prevent any effort to restrict access to the four roads. He encouraged the tribe to remove any barriers and refrain from imposing any additional restrictions. he tribe, however, issued a statement that officials would be issuing citations to those trespassing on the roads. Neither the Town of Lac du Flambeau nor the tribe responded to emails asking about the citations. Kievet, who runs a Facebook page, 'Behind the Barriers,' said he hasn't heard of anyone yet receiving a citation. In a recent meeting, according to Kievet, an attorney for the Department of Justice instructed homeowners receiving citations to alert the agency. Kievet said his research into the history of the tribe and federal Indian policy has helped him understand how the situation has gotten so contentious. 'I understand more about how things happened and I even understand the tribe being angry; I empathize with them,' he said. 'But they've chosen to take it out on the wrong people.' The fact is, according to Kievet, the federal government created the problem when officials created the Dawes Act. Since President Donald Trump took office in January, however, a solution to the easement problem is likely to be put on hold for at least another 60 days. On Jan. 20, 2025, the acting Secretary of the Interior Walter Cruickshank issued a temporary suspension of delegated authority for the Department of the Interior. Under the suspension, the agency is prevented from issuing any easements or leases related to the National Environmental Policy Act. This is in accordance with limits the president is seeking related to federal environmental policy. The agency did not respond to an email asking for clarification. Kievet told ICT that he believes discussions are still underway for perhaps a land-back deal that could solve the easement dispute. Neither the tribe nor the town responded to emails from ICT asking about the proposal, but Kievet said he hopes to hear more in coming weeks. The lawsuits are continuing as well, but the issues could be complicated by the new presidential administration. U.S. government lawyers on Feb. 5 sought an extension of deadlines to allow time for the Trump administration to review the case. In Wisconsin, meanwhile, tensions remain high, with warnings that citations could be issued for those who use the roadways. But the roads, for now, remain open to traffic as opposing parties work to resolve the issues. Kievet believes a final resolution needs to come at the federal level. 'Trying to make people solve this at the local and tribal level,' he said, 'is too fraught and emotional.' The Associated Press contributed to this article. Our stories are worth telling. Our stories are worth sharing. Our stories are worth your support. Contribute today to help ICT carry out its critical mission. Sign up for ICT's free newsletter.
