Latest news with #ShondiinSilversmith
Yahoo
14-06-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Phoenix Indian Center holds annual Rainbow Gathering for Two Spirit LGBTQIA+ community
The Phoenix Indian center hosted its annual Southwest American Indian 2SLGBTQIA+ Rainbow Gathering on June 12, 2025, at South Mountain Community College. Photo by Shondiin Silversmith | Arizona Mirror In a time of uncertainty and continuous attacks on the rights of LGBTQ+ people in Arizona and beyond, the Phoenix Indian Center wanted to offer the community a safe space for individuals to share resources and stories that highlighted Indigenous experiences. 'Visibility is more important now than ever before,' said Levi Long, a communications specialist with the Phoenix Indian Center, due to the ongoing attacks on the rights of this community. For many Indigenous people, the acronym primarily used is 2SLGBTQIA+, which includes Two Spirit people. The term Two Spirit acknowledges the traditional roles and identities of Indigenous people who lived outside the binary of male and female within many Indigenous communities, and is an identity that predates the colonization of North America. Two Spirit Diné trans woman Trudie Jackson has been a prominent advocate for the 2SLGBTQIA+ community for decades and is an Indigenous scholar with research and work that focuses on the Two Spirit community. When she placed the 2S before LGBTQIA+, she said she had people constantly trying to correct her. 'Two Spirit existed before colonization and the Stonewall Riot,' Jackson said. 'My ancestors were here before the colonizers.' SUBSCRIBE: GET THE MORNING HEADLINES DELIVERED TO YOUR INBOX President Donald Trump's administration has pushed anti-2SLGBTQIA+ policies since he took office, including a rollback on health care services, implementing policies recognizing only two genders and banning trans people from the military and playing sports. In Arizona, several officials have pushed the same rhetoric by introducing and advancing a slate of anti-2SLGBTQIA+ bills, including a sweeping anti-trans 'biological sex' bill that Gov. Katie Hobbs vetoed in April. At the Phoenix Indian Center, Long said that they are very intentional with centering Indigiqueer voices, especially in a time of uncertainty with the political landscape and the consistent challenges to their rights. He said he hopes that more organizations from the Indigenous community will step up for their 2SLGBTQIA+ relatives to let them know that there are safe spaces for them — and they're not going anywhere. The center hosted its annual Southwest American Indian 2SLGBTQIA+ Rainbow Gathering on June 12 at South Mountain Community College, providing a safe space for Indigenous people to share resources and stories. The theme for this year's Rainbow Gathering was 'Weaving Tradition: Past, Present and Future for Native People.' The Phoenix Indian Center is the oldest nonprofit organization serving the Indigenous community in the United States, offering a range of services including workforce development, peer support and youth development. Phoenix Indian Center CEO Jolyana Begay-Kroupa said the Rainbow Gathering is always rooted in Indigenous teachings of respect and a space that honors 2SLGBTQIA+ relatives as sacred healers, leaders and community caretakers. 'This gathering celebrates this diversity that weaves our Indigenous community together and makes us collectively stronger,' she said, adding that it's essential to look at the cultural teachings to guide the framework for a future that ensures all Indigenous people can thrive and have access to equitable lives. 'We gather here right now to find strength, to find solidarity and weave a stronger fabric so that we can hold on together,' Begay-Kroupa said. The gathering featured multiple speakers from the 2SLGBTQIA+ Indigenous community, who focused on topics related to Two Spirit health care, the history of Two Spirit people within Indigenous communities, body image, personal experiences and resources available. One experience shared during the event was by Charlie Amáyá Scott. She said she was 13 when she told her mother she is queer. She wrote it down on a note and slipped it into her mother's lunch bag. 'I was a scared little queer, and I was like: 'I'm queer. Love me, please,'' Scott said. 'Later that day, after I told her in a note, she told me that she loves me.' Scott, now 30, said she is proud to be her mother's oldest daughter. She was the keynote speaker for the Rainbow Gathering, and she shared with the crowd some of her life experiences as a queer, trans Diné woman and Indigenous scholar, emphasizing the importance of stories and storytelling. 'Through stories, we learn who we are, where we come from, and what we could be,' Scott added. 'We exist because of stories.' A story Scott shared reinvents the Diné creation story, going beyond the strict gender binary of the original creation narrative. 'First Woman noticed that all creatures had a choice about who they could be and who they could love,' Scott said. 'First Woman wanted this for her people, the Diné, too.' The story shares how the First Woman's gift to the Diné people was a choice, and that is how Scott would have written the creation story. Scott wrote that story over a year ago, and she said it was to share a creation story that included honoring queer, trans and intersex relatives, 'unlike the popularized versions that dictate a colonizing sex binary and heterosexuality.' Scott said she shared the story because she dreams of a better future, world and life. 'There's something very freeing when we rewrite our stories,' she said, because it provides people the ability to dream and imagine a world of possibility, liberation and freedom. 'A world that we write for ourselves and our cherished loved ones,' she added. 'Stories are not just stories, they are memories, they are lessons, they are guidance from generations before.' Scott said she has rewritten four traditional creation stories, including one about Spider Woman, who was responsible for teaching the Diné people how to weave. 'Our traditions are meant to evolve and change in time,' she said. 'To keep them static is to kill them off.' Scott said that Indigenous people are losing part of themselves if traditions do not evolve or change because they are 'meant to live and reflect who we are and where we're going.' 'What remains is the teaching, not the specificity,' she added. The Rainbow Gathering has been held in the Phoenix area since 2011. Jackson established the event and it is now hosted annually by the Phoenix Indian Center. During the gathering, Jackson shared her work on the state of Two Spirit health in North America, which later became a chapter in the book 'A History of Transgender Medicine in the United States.' The book features 40 contributors and Jackson is the only Indigenous author. Jackson talked about the impact of colonization on Two Spirit health, which includes stigma, self-confidence, self-worth, health, well-being, homophobia, transphobia and historical trauma. She said that is why, within Indigenous communities, health care workers and facilities must be inclusive of their intake assessments. Before she changed her name, Jackson said that she still remembers what it felt like when the hospital would call her by her birth name. She said she often contemplated what to do in the waiting room, wondering if she should get up. However, even after she changed her name, the stigma persisted. Jackson said that her doctor would anger her because they would go through her entire medical history pointing out that she was born male and is now passing as female. 'Our community is often viewed as less than,' she said. Jackson said it is vital for the 2SLGBTQIA+ community to tell their stories and assert their importance within the cultural, ceremonial and spiritual traditions of their communities. 'Listening to these voices, we can create medical institutions that recognize and meet our unique healthcare needs,' she said. As part of the gathering, the Phoenix Indian Center presented two community awards, the Basket and Dream Catcher awards. Jackson said she created the awards to be Indigenous, reflecting the identity of Indigenous people. The Basket award is given to an individual or organization recognized as an ally of the Two Spirit community who has provided support for programming and services targeting the Two Spirit community in the southwest. Jackson said the basket reward reflects the time and work that goes into preparing and weaving a basket within many Native cultures. 'The intent was to identify an individual who went down the same journey as the basket by creating that weave within the community,' she added. The 2025 Basket Award was presented to Tara Begay, a Diné board-certified Family Nurse Practitioner and co-owner of TL Family Nurse Practice, LLC in Phoenix. She is actively involved in Arizona's Rapid Start Initiative, which ensures access to HIV treatment upon diagnosis, according to the Phoenix Indian Center. 'Health care is a fundamental human right,' Begay said. Some of the services her practice provides include sick visits, physical exams, HIV prevention and management, gender affirming care and chronic care. The Dream Catcher award is presented to an Indigenous person who identifies as Two Spirit and has demonstrated a lifetime commitment and services to the Indigenous 2SLGBTQIA+ community in the southwest. 'We see you, we see your work, we see what you're doing out in the community,' Jackson said, adding that the Dream Catcher Award is similar to having a vision out in the community, they see something is needed and they go out and 'plant that seed. The 2025 Dream Catcher award was presented to Rita DeMornay, who is Akimel O'odham from the Gila River Indian Community, where she began her 2SLGBTQIA+ advocacy journey. DeMornay currently serves as Miss Phoenix Pride 2025, she is the first Indigenous winner of the title since 2007. 'My journey has just begun, it is not over,' DeMornay said. 'I will continue to open these doors for our Native Two Spirit LGBTQIA+ community.' SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE
Yahoo
13-06-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Mirror wins 3 awards for covering Arizona's Indigenous communities
Photo via Getty Images Shondiin Silversmith and the Arizona Mirror took home three awards in the Indigenous Journalists Association's annual journalism contest. Silversmith, who began working for the Mirror covering Arizona's Indigenous communities in 2021, was honored on June 12 for her work covering the continuing fallout from the state's sober living home fraud crisis, the challenges that Indigenous voters face when heading to the polls and the role that tribal culture plays for 2SLGTBQ+ people. She was awarded first place for Best Editorial in the IJA contest's professional category for her reporting on the Election Day challenges that Navajo voters had to overcome in order to cast their ballots in 2024. Through the course of her reporting on the day's activities, Silversmith spent nearly 10 hours in her car and logged more than 250 miles as she visited just 10 polling locations. 'On average, the polling stations within the Navajo Nation are about 20 to 30 miles apart, depending on the part of the reservation you live in. But there are places where people may have to drive up to an hour — one way — just to vote,' she wrote. Silversmith also earned a second place for Best Longform/Magazine Story for her continued coverage of the challenges Native people and communities are facing because of the massive Medicaid fraud that victimized tribal members and that state leaders turned a blind eye to for years. For the story, she followed volunteers who scoured the streets of Phoenix to find people who had been displaced after the sober living homes they were living in were abruptly shut down when officials cracked down on the Medicaid fraud. 'We're going through genocide,' one of the activists told her about how bad the crisis has gotten. And she was honored with another second place award for Best Two-Spirit Coverage — an Indigenous term that broadly encompasses LGBTQ+ people — for her reporting on Pride celebrations in tribal communities across Arizona, from the large Navajo Nation to the tiny Hualapai Tribe. 'It's really good to be able to see our own people coming together, not only to celebrate pride but to celebrate their own people that live and work in their community,' one Tohono O'odham celebrant told her. The Indigenous Journalists Association, which was formed in 1983 and originally known as the Native American Press Association, serves and empowers Native journalists through programs and actions designed to enrich journalism and promote Native cultures. Its annual journalism contest recognizes excellence in coverage of Indigenous communities and issues that directly affect Native peoples. SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE
Yahoo
05-06-2025
- General
- Yahoo
UofA Indigenous students oppose cultural center restructuring, termination of director
Julian Juan, the former director of the Native American Student Affairs Cultural & Resources Center at the University of Arizona, was terminated from his position on May 27, 2025. He sat down with The Arizona Mirror for an interview on May 28, 2025. Photo by Shondiin Silversmith | Arizona Mirror A group of Native students at the University of Arizona say that the administration has just eliminated one of the rare spaces where they felt safe, connected and welcome on campus. Diné student Tommey Jodie said that she depended on the Native American Student Affairs Cultural & Resource Center not only for studying but also for connecting with other Native students in a space where she could 'just be a Native person.' ' It's one of the only places on campus where I didn't have to explain who I was or why I was there,' she said. Unlike in other situations on campus, where the student body is overwhelmingly white, she said she never had to justify her existence as a Native person. Many Indigenous UofA students shared the same sentiment. Lakȟóta and Tohono O'odham student Winona Little Owl-Ignacio said that NASA — the acronym that Indigenous students use for the Native American Student Affairs center — has played a crucial role in her journey at the university since she transferred from Tohono O'odham Community College. When she started in 2021, she had nowhere to live in Tucson. That changed after she met NASA Director Julian Juan, who helped her move into O'odham Ki, a living environment for Indigenous students at UofA. 'NASA saved me,' she said. 'It gave me a home at this predominantly white institution.' SUBSCRIBE: GET THE MORNING HEADLINES DELIVERED TO YOUR INBOX Now, Indigenous students' confidence in the safety and community that NASA provided is diminishing after the university fired the director on May 27 and announced plans to merge the center with the Office of Native American Initiatives. ' It's a blatant disrespect to student safety,' Little Owl-Ignacio said of the merger. 'They don't care about Native student safety.' The university's move to consolidate NASA under NAI is part of its announcement to combine all cultural and resource centers into a single unit, known as the Student Culture and Engagement Hub. The merging of the cultural centers occurs amid the university's drastic shift in its DEI policies as part of its response to the Trump administration's anti-DEI policies. 'Campus Community Connections will support internal campus community groups, external community councils, and programming that fosters an environment where all communities are connected, valued and able to thrive,' Jenna Hatcher, the vice provost set to lead the initiative, said in a press release. The university said the move is intended to strengthen support for student engagement and community collaboration across campus. The change came on the same day Juan was fired following disagreements with university administration over conflicts involving Tessa Dysart, the assistant vice provost for NAI. Multiple Indigenous students told the Arizona Mirror that neither Dysart nor other leaders at the Office of Native American Initiatives have shown up for them or made efforts to build relationships. As a student deeply involved with the Indigenous community at UofA, Jodie said she had never met any of the leadership from NAI or seen them attend any Indigenous student events. 'I think that really matters,' Jodie added, because if those leaders say they will represent Indigenous students, then they 'should at least know us.' The university said in its press release that combining NASA with NAI will enhance collaboration and strengthen support for Native students, faculty, staff and tribal partners. 'This move recognizes and respects the sovereign status of tribal nations, while reflecting our ongoing commitment to student success,' Levi Esquerra, senior vice president for Native American advancement and tribal engagement, said in the announcement. The Arizona Mirror asked the University of Arizona for an interview about NASA, as well as student concerns about the merger with NAI. The university did not respond to the interview request, but provided a written statement. University spokesperson Mitch Zak said that Dysart, a member of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation, will work closely with other administrators to engage Native American students and support their success. 'We value and appreciate engaging with students and hearing their opinions, and there will be plenty of opportunities going forward for that,' Zak said. Tohono O'odham graduate student Trinity Norris said that the university's actions demonstrate that it is not listening to students. 'They're making these decisions without the input of students, which makes no sense, because this is going to directly impact students and their well-being,' she said. The University of Arizona is a land-grant university established in 1885. It is one of 52 universities across the country supported by the Morrill Act, which was signed into law by President Abraham Lincoln. The act utilized land that the federal government stole from tribal nations and sold to fund the universities. As a land-grant university, UofA boasts that it actively supports Indigenous students, research and initiatives through its Indigenous-focused student programs, such as the Arizona Native Scholars Grant program, which covers tuition and mandatory fees for undergraduate Indigenous students. However, support has not always been available. Students have shared experiences of funding never fully covering tuition and fees, often leaving them with large bills and scrambling for support.. In a letter sent to UofA leadership, supporters of NASA declared that 'any attempt to eliminate NASA is a direct assault on the Native American student population as well as the Tribal Nations, which this university was founded to serve as part of its land-grant mission.' The letter was published on May 26 after students suspected UofA would follow through with their threats to consolidate the cultural centers and they wanted to show they do not support it. The letter was signed by more than 85 Indigenous students, organizations and alums. The students in the letter stated that as a land-grant university, UofA has a 'lasting obligation to not only recognize but serve Indigenous communities,' especially since the school continues to acknowledge this history through its land acknowledgment and recruitment of Indigenous students. 'The history of this university, as well as the greater state of Arizona university system, has long failed our Native communities and Tribal Nations,' the letter states. Failures outlined in the letter include insufficient scholarship support, the inability to hire Native faculty and the failure to provide a space for Native students to learn and become strong citizens of their respective tribal nations. 'Despite these failures, we remain — not only are we still here, but we are here in larger numbers than at any point in the recorded history of the university,' the students wrote. In the fall 2024 semester, there were more than 2,000 Native American students at UofA, accounting for 3.6% of the student population. NASA was founded in 1989 and has been one of the long-standing cultural centers at UofA. However, the university has not consistently supported it, as the center faced plans for consolidation in 1993, 2016 and 2023. The lack of university support for NASA is evident in other ways, including a lack of financial support for its major events, such as Indigenous Peoples' Day and the Spring Powwow, which are funded through sponsorships and fundraising. NASA also hosts the Native American Convocation. Juan said his office had allocated $6,000 from the center's operating budget to host this year's event, but that amount only covered the cost of the stoles. In previous years, Juan said that NAI covered the venue costs for the convocation. But Dysart ended that practice, and he said NAI did not provide any financial support to NASA for the convocation or support any other significant events. Aside from the threat of consolidation, NASA has experienced high turnover for many years, including a decline in student staffing and a shortage of program coordinators. Frequent changes in leadership at NASA means that students have been forced to rebuild trust and relationships constantly. Before he was fired, Juan had been at NASA since 2019, and many Indigenous students credit him with helping to make it a safe space. He started as a program coordinator and later became the center's interim director in 2022, a position he held off and on until he was offered the position permanently in January 2024. As a first-generation college student with a bachelor's and master's degree, Juan said it was a dream job to contribute to the success of Indigenous students. Coming into NASA, he said his priority was rebuilding the relationship with students because of the lingering effects of high turnover. ' I felt a responsibility as an O'odham person at the University of Arizona to be that consistency for them,' he said. 'That's what's kept me here this whole time, seeing what these students have gone through.' Indigenous students at UofA often have to advocate for themselves and serve as their own support system, which can lead to burnout, Juan said. 'I've seen a lot of harm to students,' he said, adding that students constantly tell him how tired they are of sharing their experiences with a university that does not listen. When he stepped into the director's role, Juan said he became a fierce advocate for them. Even after all these obstacles, he said it's incredible to see Indigenous students succeed. The student letter sent to the university stated that NASA is the center of campus life for all Indigenous students at UofA. 'Under Julian's leadership, there are more large- and small-scale events at the university to support our Native students and ensure our retention and graduation in the degrees we seek,' the letter stated. UofA doctoral student William Carson, a tribal member of Ohkay Owingeh, helped put together the student letter condemning the university's decision to fire Juan and merge NASA with NAI. Under former directors, Carson said that students did not utilize the space as often, but that changed drastically when Juan took over. NASA is located on the second floor of the Robert L. Nugent Building at UofA. 'It's a place people like to be because people feel comfortable there,' he said, because in reality, NASA is a few offices and an open commons area. ' That is entirely the result of the work that Julian has done, empowering students and making people feel wanted there.' Carson recently defended his dissertation, which involved research with NASA, NAI, and the Office of Native American Advancement & Tribal Engagement. The results of his study showed a strong connection between Indigenous students and NASA. Carson said that when he presented his findings to NAI and NAATE leadership, he emphasized that any outreach efforts related to Indigenous students at UofA should go through NASA. 'This is a place people trust. They trust what Julian is doing,' he said, adding that he'll never forget how dismissive Dysart and other leaders were of that information. ' They simply acted like I never mentioned NASA once in the meeting.' NASA is the only space on campus at UofA for Indigenous students, Carson said, and now that NAI is running it, he said it's certain that some students will stop going to the center. Little Owl-Ignacio said it makes her emotional to think about NASA after the news of the merger and Juan being fired. She said it was amazing to see all the Indigenous students at UofA 'blossom and grow' because they were able to find a home, friends and a community within the cultural center. The outpouring of support has deeply impacted Juan, who said it has made him emotional to see all the people who have shown up for him. Juan said that the students who sent the letter also reached out, asking how they could support and protect him. He admitted that it was hard to hear because he felt it should be him protecting them. 'But when I saw the list of support, I was like, 'Dang, this is beautiful to see,'' he said. Despite being among the several cultural resource center directors fired on May 27, Juan said that his dismissal was not solely a result of the university's drastic shifts in diversity, equity and inclusion policies prompted by the Trump administration's executive orders banning them. Instead, he said, it was retaliation for his ongoing advocacy for the safety of Indigenous students at the university. Tension has been escalating between Indigenous students and university leadership over the past year. From Juan's perspective, things began to deteriorate last year, following the retirement of Karen Francis-Begay, who served as the assistant vice provost for NAI from 2020 to 2023. Dysart took on the role of vice provost in July 2024. Juan said the vice provost position at NAI was established in response to 'student demands and advocacy' following an incident involving former UofA President Robert C. Robbins, who made offensive comments in front of a group of Indigenous students in 2019. Juan said the position was supposed to 'handle all the top-level stuff and to ensure students, staff and faculty are being supported.' However, Juan said that Indigenous students began to express their concerns about Dysart the month after she started in the position. According to Juan, one Indigenous student told him that Dysart made derogatory comments about tribal colleges and universities that made the student uncomfortable. Dysart allegedly said that tribal colleges and universities inadequately prepare their students for the rigor of a Western university, and that it's not UofA's fault that those students don't succeed, but a failure of the institutions they transferred from. Juan said that the student shared their concern with him because they believed those comments should not be made by someone whose job was to support Indigenous students. And more stories about disrespectful interactions with Dysart came in from students, his staff and other employees. Juan said he shared his concerns with his supervisor, who recommended that he raise them with the then-interim provost, Ronald Marx. Juan's biggest concern, he told Marx, was a pattern of Dysart intimidating or silencing Native women. Marx asked to meet with the students, Juan said, but many were afraid to come forward. 'They are afraid of retaliation if they find out that they're the ones who raise concerns about her,' Juan said. 'They are afraid for their future careers as lawyers or even their academic careers.' The university never responded to the concerns Juan shared, he said. The most public student safety concern occurred in February during the annual Tribal Leaders Summit & Student Engagement event, when Indigenous law student Jacquelyn Francisco attempted to speak but was physically blocked from the microphone by Dysart and another school official. After being blocked from the podium, Francisco stood in front of it and shared her experience as an Indigenous student, and told the tribal leaders in attendance how the university quietly deleted language in its official land acknowledgment — without consulting tribes and students. After the summit, Francisco said that the university started referring to her as a 'disgruntled student' who was not invited to speak during the event and should not have been on stage. Francisco countered that Dysart invited her to the event, and even asked if Francisco could share the details with her network. The invitation requested students to share their experiences at UofA. Francisco, who is Diné and Jicarilla Apache, is a Navajo Nation law fellow at the university's James E. Rogers College of Law and a leader in the Indigenous student law community. She said she had previously asked Dysart, who is a law professor, for support and advice, but said that Dysart frequently made ignorant comments that criticized Indigenous UofA students and demonstrated a clear lack of understanding of the support those students may require. Before the conflict at the summit, Francisco said she and other Indigenous law students shared their concerns about Dysart with Marx. The students never received any response from the university administration, and Francisco said she wasn't surprised when Dysart tried to stop her from speaking. She said she does not believe Dysart has the best interests of students in mind and is concerned about the future of Indigenous students attending UofA. Neither the university nor Dysart have spoken to Francisco since the incident or addressed it publicly. Little Owl-Ignacio was at the tribal summit event in February, where she said she overheard Dysart threaten to call security on Francisco. Dysart's actions caused harm not only to Francisco, Little Owl-Ignacio said, but also to the other Indigenous students who witnessed them. Even after students repeatedly said that they felt unsafe around Dysart, the university still chose to put NASA under her leadership. 'It completely ignores the student safety concerns and it ignores their well-being, something that NASA has always been committed to under Julian's former leadership,' Little Owl-Ignacio said. 'He made sure that the well-being of the students was always at the forefront and this decision doesn't reflect that.' Following the confrontation at the summit, Juan said that students continued to express to him concerns about NAI and said they did not feel safe around Dysart. Juan said he believes his advocacy for students amidst the tension between NAI and students led to his termination. The tipping point, he said, occurred during NASA's Feast Friday event in April. Juan was in a meeting in his office while students shared a meal during the event, but he noticed multiple students looking into his office, visibly distressed. After Juan noticed Dysart in the doorway, along with one of her coworkers and two Pascua Yaqui Council members, he apologized and asked Dysart to leave due to student safety concerns. Juan said she responded with confusion, telling him that she did not know what he meant, even though he had sent her emails about those concerns. She answered that it was an open campus and that she was free to go where she pleased, but that they should have a conversation about the concerns with university administrators. Juan agreed to the conversation, but insisted that she leave. She eventually did. Juan said he then apologized to the Pascua Yaqui Council members, who stayed to see the NASA center and interact with students at the event. At the beginning of May, Marx emailed Juan about the unwelcoming reception that Dysart received. 'The University's senior leadership, including me, has emphasized the importance of collaboration among all units that support student well-being and success,' Marx wrote in the memo. 'Such collaboration is required between NASA and the Office of Native American Initiatives.' Marx requested that Juan write a formal apology letter to the Pascua Yaqui council members who witnessed the interaction and instructed him to arrange a meeting between NASA and NAI to begin coordination efforts. Once Juan read the memo, he said he knew his position was at risk. Juan said he met with Hatcher, the vice provost overseeing Campus Community Connections, to discuss these concerns and to arrange a meeting date for the two offices. In this meeting, Juan said that Hatcher offered to allow him to bring his tribal leaders from the Tohono O'odham Nation to support him. Hatcher agreed to the meeting arrangements and requested that Juan set up the meeting. But Juan was fired before that could happen. His termination letter said that he was being dismissed for not fulfilling his duties, including failing to write the apology letter to the Pascua Yaqui council members and meeting with NAI. Juan said he had apologized to the council members in an email before the request, and he emailed a draft of a formal apology letter to Hatcher. When he was fired on May 27, he said he was attempting to finalize dates that worked with his tribal leader's calendars for the meeting between NAI and NASA. He has no doubts that his termination is a clear act of retaliation for standing up for students. 'I t hurts because I want (students) to be okay and I want (students) to be safe,' Juan said. 'I'm afraid for them under this new model. I am afraid for them because the university has shown they're not going to hold this person accountable.' Dysart has been allowed to 'physically silence a student without repercussion,' he added. With NASA moving under NAI, Juan said that the office does not have the capacity to support Indigenous students at UofA or the emotional understanding to take their concerns seriously. He said he wants people to know the whole story because he does not want the university to 'create their own narrative,' and he intends to challenge his termination and has provided documentation to support his case to the university's human resources office. The Arizona Mirror reached out to Dysart and the university about student concerns and Juan's termination. Dysart did not respond. The university refused to comment on personnel matters. SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE
Yahoo
07-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Arizona Legislature unanimously approves Turquoise Alert System for missing Indigenous people
Community members wait in line at the water tank in Peridot, Arizona, so that they can place a red hand print of the mural honoring Emily Pike and everyone impacted by the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Peoples crisis. Photo by Shondiin Silversmith | Arizona Mirror The creation of the Turquoise Alert System cleared its final legislative hurdle on Wednesday when it passed the state House of Representatives unanimously The new system, which would function similarly to the existing Amber Alert and Silver Alert notification systems, would coordinate alerts for missing Indigenous or endangered persons through the federally authorized Emergency Alert System. The final passage comes less than a week after the state Senate amended the legislation, House Bill 2281, to include minors who go missing. The change allows the alert system to be activated in cases like Emily Pike's, an Indigenous teen whose disappearance and murder earlier this year was cited by lawmakers as the impetus for the measure. SUBSCRIBE: GET THE MORNING HEADLINES DELIVERED TO YOUR INBOX Rep. Teresa Martinez, R-Casa Grande, said she introduced the bill before Pike's story became public, and that the Turquoise Alert could have prevented her murder. 'It breaks my heart that we, the State of Arizona, didn't even go looking for this little girl,' she said. 'We cannot let children go missing without somebody being alerted.' Democratic Rep. Brian Garcia, a member of the Pascua Yaqui Tribe, said the alert will save lives. 'One day, what happened to Emily won't happen to another child,' he said. More than 10,600 Indigenous people were reported missing in the U.S. in 2023, roughly 3,300 of whom were 18 or older, according to the FBI. The National Missing and Unidentified Persons System reported that more than 23,700 missing persons cases were in the database at the end of 2023, and 255 of those were for Indigenous people. In 2021, Arizona was ranked as the state with the third-largest number of unresolved missing Indigenous people cases in the country, according to NamUs. There are currently 91 missing Indigenous people cases in the NamUs database for Arizona. A study from the Urban Indian Health Institute found that Arizona also has the third-largest number of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls in the country. That study reported 506 known cases in 71 urban areas across the country, 54 of which were in Arizona, including 31 in Tucson. There is still no single database that provides accurate numbers or data related to missing and murdered Indigenous peoples across the country. With no centralized database among the thousands of federal, state and tribal entities, the information available is limited. The Turquoise Alert system has been a priority for Indigenous advocates for years, and was requested in 2019, when Arizona's first Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women study committee examined the crisis. 'Indigenous people go missing at a higher rate than any other ethnicity,' Elayne Gregg, whose 7-year-old daughter was abducted and killed in 2009, told the Arizona Mirror earlier this year. 'Because that rate is so high, something like this needs to happen.' The bill has received broad bipartisan support as it moved through the legislative process, making it likely that Gov. Katie Hobbs will sign it into law. Hobbs has already directed the Arizona Department of Public Safety to develop a plan for implementing a new alert for Indigenous people by summer. SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE
Yahoo
16-04-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Trucks with uranium cross Navajo Nation, reviving long-standing fears
Navajo Nation Executive Director Stephen Etsitty holds a radiation monitor device up to the front of one of the two uranium ore haul trucks from Pinyon Plaine Mine on Feb. 12, 2024, in Cameron. Photo by Shondiin Silversmith | Arizona Mirror Although the Navajo Nation has reached an agreement with Energy Fuels Inc. on uranium transportation through tribal land, many tribal members remain concerned it won't protect them from the harms of uranium contamination. Tribal leaders say they had little choice but to enter the agreement, as federal law preempts any tribal regulations that conflict with it regarding the transportation of radioactive materials. In between the four sacred mountains of the Navajo Nation, two large white trucks made a passage through the land coming from the Pinyon Plain Mine in Arizona's Kaibab National Forest which sits just outside the western boundary of the Navajo Nation, to the White Mesa Mill in southern Utah. The vehicles traveled more than 260 miles along Highways 89, 160 and 191 carrying a chemical all too familiar to the Navajo people, and the one that haunted them for years: uranium. Uranium trucks will roll down 'Killer 89,' igniting alarm in tribal communities On July 30, 2024, Energy Fuels Inc., a publicly traded company specializing in uranium mining and milling, among other things, sent the trucks with 'a very, very short notification time' before the transport, said Stephen Etsitty, executive director of the Navajo Nation Environmental Protection Agency, during a Navajo Nation Council meeting six months later. This led to months of negotiations and the eventual development of a transportation agreement between Energy Fuels and the Navajo Nation, to set safety requirements and ensure accountability. Title 49 in the Code of Federal Regulations outlines transportation requirements and classifies uranium ore as a Low Specific Activity material, 'which is the lowest level of radioactive material hauled on roads and highways,' said Kris Beecher, acting deputy attorney general for the Navajo Department of Justice, at the meeting. This means that moving uranium from one place to another is exempt from rigorous transportation requirements. Indigenous communities in the Southwest have taken steps to prohibit uranium mining and transportation on their lands due to the history of contamination, illness and death. In 2005, the Navajo Nation enacted the Diné Natural Resources Protection Act, which bans uranium mining and processing within its territory. In 2012, the nation passed the Radioactive and Related Substances Equipment, Vehicles, Persons, and Materials Transportation Act, which prohibits the transportation of uranium on tribal lands. However, federal law, specifically the Atomic Energy Act and the Hazardous Materials Transportation Act, regulates hauling of radioactive materials and overrides state and tribal regulations that go against them, also known as federal preemption. 'The Navajo Nation has done the next best thing by entering into an agreement with Energy Fuels,' Beecher said. According to the agreement, at no cost to the Navajo Nation, the corporation has agreed to clean up 10,000 tons of uranium-bearing materials from abandoned mines scattered throughout Navajo land. The company will also pay 50 cents per pound of processed uranium produced at the White Mesa Mill, which will amount to approximately $40,000 to $50,000 a month, 'depending on the richness of the uranium ore, with that rate to be adjusted annually for inflation,' Beecher said during the meeting. 'There will be approximately 10 trucks per day and the transport can take two to four years, depending on the amount of ore obtained from the (Pinyon Plain) Mine,' Beecher said. Energy Fuels also agreed to pay $1.2 million into the Navajo Nation CERCLA. 'That funds uranium transport program and any remaining funds may be used more generally to support education, the environment, public health and welfare, transportation safety and local economic development,' Beecher said. The company has plans to also mine uranium ore at the Roca Honda Mine near Mount Taylor in New Mexico. If mining begins at Roca Honda, the existing agreement will apply to the transportation of uranium ore from that mine through Navajo land. The Navajo Department of Justice and Environmental Protection Agency limited trucks to specific routes and hours of the day, prohibiting hauling during holidays and public events in respect of the culture and traditions of the nation. Energy Fuels promised to give a 14-day warning in advance of its monthly schedule before entering the Navajo land. 'The Navajo Nation has suffered longstanding impacts from uranium mining conducted during the Cold War era,' said Mark Chalmers, president and CEO of Energy Fuels, in a press release earlier this year. 'This has understandably caused mistrust toward the U.S. government and energy companies.' Not all Navajo Nation officials were in favor of the terms of agreement, questioning their execution. 'We will be continued to be lied to … We won't get the full packet,' said Vince James, a Navajo Nation council delegate, during the council meeting. Other tribal members echoed that sentiment. Robyn Jackson, executive director of Diné C.A.R.E., a nonprofit organization advocating for environmental protection, voiced her concerns over Energy Fuels' fulfillment of the agreement requirements, such as a dust cover as a preventative measure to ensure the radioactive debris does not escape the truck during transport. 'These trucks are only covered by a tarp and material particles could get out,' Jackson said. 'And since this is primarily going through Navajo Nation, that's Navajo communities that are being exposed to the uranium ore and radiation.' Jackson said each vehicle is required to have a symbol indicating that it contains radioactive material, but the symbol is too small for community members to see. Today, 85% of all Navajo people live in uranium-contaminated homes, according to an investigation from the Pulitzer Center. The effects of uranium vary, from shortness of breath and irritation to the skin after exposure to cancer and aggressive forms of autoimmune disease. The stakes are higher for those on the Navajo land due to zinc deficiency, said Jonnye Lewis, director and founder of the Community Environmental Health Program (CEHP), which is dedicated to studying the environmental effects of uranium and mine waste exposure on tribal land. 'What we see, especially on Navajo, is that you have some basic fundamental deficits in nutrition, and those also contribute to the toxicity of the metals,' said Lewis. For almost 40 years, Navajo men, women and children worked in uranium mines, where radioactive contamination spread to livestock and farmland. Children often played in open pit mines, unaware of the health risks posed by radioactive waste. Leona Morgan did not grow up in a contaminated environment, but her family has seen the effects of uranium. She co-founded Haul No!, a nonprofit organization that informs communities about nuclear mining and milling. 'People are scared, there are health problems, and the rez (reservation) doesn't have a cancer center,' Morgan said. 'When people have kidney problems, they have to go to dialysis. They oftentimes drive four hours from the rez to somewhere and pick up people along the way, it's an all-day thing.' In the past, people affected by uranium could receive financial relief outlined in the Radiation Exposure Compensation Act. The law failed to pass reauthorization and is no longer providing any compensation. Energy Fuels has not disclosed specific revenue figures solely from its Pinyon Plain Mine operations. However, in 2024, the company reported total uranium sales of 450,000 pounds, generating a gross profit of $21.32 million with a 56% gross margin, which means the company kept 56 cents per dollar as gross profit after covering the direct costs of production, such as mining, milling and transportation. The average realized prices were $75.13 per pound when selling uranium under long-term agreements with buyers, and $91.51 per pound while selling uranium on the open market without long-term arrangements. President Donald Trump issued the Immediate Measures to Increase American Mineral Production executive order on March 10, which encourages public and private partnerships and capital investment in domestic mineral production. 'We are trying to fend off these renewed mining activities, but it is coming and we just have to continue to fight,' Etsitty, with the Navajo EPA, said. SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE
