by Terri C. Hansen
News from Indian Country
Pacific Northwest Bureau Chief
Washington, D.C. - The Environmental Protection Agency has appointed Kathy Gorospe as the new executive director of the American Indian Environmental Office in Washington, D.C.
In this senior management position Ms. Gorospe, an enrolled Laguna Pueblo, will report directly to EPA Administrator Carol Browner. Her responsibilities include coordination and oversight of EPA's Indian programs, federal agency and tribal operations, training on tribal environmental concerns, cultural and legal issues.
"I am very honored to be selected for this position," Gorospe said . "I think it's a reflection of the work I've done on behalf of Columbia River Inter-tribal Fish Commission and in part, a reflection of the high regard the Administration and particularly other tribes have for this organization."
Gorospe, who earned a law degree from Oregon's Willamette University, served as executive director of Oregon's Commission on Indian Services from 1980 to 1987, and since 1990 has been executive assistant for the CRITFC in Portland, Ore.
Monday, January 20, 1997
Thursday, January 16, 1997
Klamath Nation fighting for treaty rights on federal forest lands
By Terri C. Hansen
News from Indian Country
Pacific Northwest Bureau Chief
CHILOQUIN, Ore. The Klamath Tribe is not satisfied with a U.S. Forest Service decision to include former Klamath reservation lands in future timber sales and recreational development plans.
The decision jeopardizes Klamath treaty rights to hunt, fish and gather due to the disastrous impact logging has had on the Tribe's traditional resources, tribal representatives say.
Tribal leaders met in October with John Lowe, administrator of 19 national forests in Oregon and Washington, to request that timber sales and development plans be suspended on former reservation lands currently managed by the Forest Service. The Klamaths requested an Environmental Impact Statement to address the impact of logging and recreational activities on their subsistence resources, which they say have dwindled due to logging practices and other intrusions on the land.
The Tribe arranged a second meeting in mid-November to negotiate an agreement regarding the protection of their treaty rights within the boundaries of their former reservation.
At that meeting, Lowe told tribal leaders the Forest Service has involved the Tribe in the planning process for the past fifteen years, but added that the Forest Service would be willing to work with the Tribe on a higher level in the future. During a press conference following the meeting, however, Lowe stated he told tribal leaders there would be no suspension of timber sales, nor would an environmental impact statement would be prepared for former reservation lands.
The Klamaths dispute Lowe's statement regarding their involvement in the planning process. The Forest Service still makes the decisions and then asks the Tribe to cooperate, the Klamath newsletter reported.
Elwood Miller, Jr., the Klamath Tribes Natural Resource Specialist, responded to Lowe's remarks in a news interview shortly after the November meeting.
"The Tribe's request to specifically have an EIS done within our treaty rights area of 1954 is because our resources are in such a diminished state," Miller said. "Forest Service activities have a direct impact on the populations of resources that we use as a tribe. Our resources, such as our sucker fish, trout, mule deer, etc., are being pushed aside for their timber commodity. In that, I don't think the Forest Service has been fair to the tribe or the resources of the forest.
"The biggest problem I see with the Forest Service is that they are an economic commodity driven on a timber base. That's how they make money."
Miller said that the Klamath Tribe has not been included in Forest Service discussions involving plans for their treaty rights areas, so the Tribe has had to come in after the fact and try to protect their subsistence rights through the appeals process. "In our opinion that is a direct violation of the government-to-government relationship," Miller said.
The Klamath Tribe was terminated in 1954 by the United States during a period of damaging government policies by the Eisenhower administration that affected tribes across the country. The Klamaths lost their land at termination, but in 1974 Kimbol vs. Callahan reaffirmed the hunting, fishing and gathering rights of the Klamath on former reservation lands.
In 1986 the Klamaths successfully regained their tribal status but no land base. They received a total of $220 million dollars from the federal government as compensation for their reservation at termination, but timber revenues totaling more than $405 million have since been paid to the federal government. During their 25 years of non-recognition they received no federal benefits, a loss to the Tribe of an estimated $112 million.
Today, as the basis of an economic self-sufficiency plan required as part of federal re-recognition, the Klamaths are seeking a return of 680,000 acres of their former reservation. The plan, while allowing some logging, calls for restoring the health of the forests within their land base.
News from Indian Country
Pacific Northwest Bureau Chief
CHILOQUIN, Ore. The Klamath Tribe is not satisfied with a U.S. Forest Service decision to include former Klamath reservation lands in future timber sales and recreational development plans.
The decision jeopardizes Klamath treaty rights to hunt, fish and gather due to the disastrous impact logging has had on the Tribe's traditional resources, tribal representatives say.
Tribal leaders met in October with John Lowe, administrator of 19 national forests in Oregon and Washington, to request that timber sales and development plans be suspended on former reservation lands currently managed by the Forest Service. The Klamaths requested an Environmental Impact Statement to address the impact of logging and recreational activities on their subsistence resources, which they say have dwindled due to logging practices and other intrusions on the land.
The Tribe arranged a second meeting in mid-November to negotiate an agreement regarding the protection of their treaty rights within the boundaries of their former reservation.
At that meeting, Lowe told tribal leaders the Forest Service has involved the Tribe in the planning process for the past fifteen years, but added that the Forest Service would be willing to work with the Tribe on a higher level in the future. During a press conference following the meeting, however, Lowe stated he told tribal leaders there would be no suspension of timber sales, nor would an environmental impact statement would be prepared for former reservation lands.
The Klamaths dispute Lowe's statement regarding their involvement in the planning process. The Forest Service still makes the decisions and then asks the Tribe to cooperate, the Klamath newsletter reported.
Elwood Miller, Jr., the Klamath Tribes Natural Resource Specialist, responded to Lowe's remarks in a news interview shortly after the November meeting.
"The Tribe's request to specifically have an EIS done within our treaty rights area of 1954 is because our resources are in such a diminished state," Miller said. "Forest Service activities have a direct impact on the populations of resources that we use as a tribe. Our resources, such as our sucker fish, trout, mule deer, etc., are being pushed aside for their timber commodity. In that, I don't think the Forest Service has been fair to the tribe or the resources of the forest.
"The biggest problem I see with the Forest Service is that they are an economic commodity driven on a timber base. That's how they make money."
Miller said that the Klamath Tribe has not been included in Forest Service discussions involving plans for their treaty rights areas, so the Tribe has had to come in after the fact and try to protect their subsistence rights through the appeals process. "In our opinion that is a direct violation of the government-to-government relationship," Miller said.
The Klamath Tribe was terminated in 1954 by the United States during a period of damaging government policies by the Eisenhower administration that affected tribes across the country. The Klamaths lost their land at termination, but in 1974 Kimbol vs. Callahan reaffirmed the hunting, fishing and gathering rights of the Klamath on former reservation lands.
In 1986 the Klamaths successfully regained their tribal status but no land base. They received a total of $220 million dollars from the federal government as compensation for their reservation at termination, but timber revenues totaling more than $405 million have since been paid to the federal government. During their 25 years of non-recognition they received no federal benefits, a loss to the Tribe of an estimated $112 million.
Today, as the basis of an economic self-sufficiency plan required as part of federal re-recognition, the Klamaths are seeking a return of 680,000 acres of their former reservation. The plan, while allowing some logging, calls for restoring the health of the forests within their land base.
Monday, June 10, 1996
Columbia River fishing sites lost to dams to be replaced
By Terri C. Hansen
Pacific Northwest Bureau Chief
News from Indian Country
At last.
More than five decades after massive dams quieted the once wild Columbia River and submerged traditional native fishing sites, the federal government has started to replace those sites, as they promised more than 50 years ago.
Ground was broken last month on the first of 31 sites intended as replacements for those flooded by the Bonneville Dam, in accordance with a 1988 Congressional law. The initial 7.8 acre site on the river's north side will have a campground, drying sheds, water and sanitation facilities.
Treaties guaranteed the Columbia River Nations — Nez Perce, Umatilla, Warm Springs and Yakama — the right to fish at their usual places along the river for all time. But their fishing places, handed down from generation to generation since time immemorial, were flooded along a 40-mile stretch when the dams were built.
The federal government promised in 1939 to replace their homes, fishing platforms and drying sheds on 400 substitute acres, but few sites were completed before the project stalled amid friction between governments and the chaos of World War II.
Ironically, groundbreaking on the replacement sites comes after the extinction of some salmon species. Others are at risk of extinction due to the perils of hydroelectric dams. Excessive logging and overgrazing on federal lands have also contributed to their demise.
For decades the river Nations have been persistent in addressing state and federal governments and their agencies in an effort to stop the destruction of the salmon and its habitat.
The Columbia River Inter-tribal Fish Commission, representing the Nez Perce, Umatilla, Warm Springs and Yakama, has turned not only to governments and agencies but to the people of the Northwest with their 1995 salmon restoration plan, Wy-Kan-Ush-Mi Wa-Kish-Wit (Spirit of the Salmon). They have appealed to everyone, asking them to work together to responsibly and reasonably to return the salmon to the waters in which they were created and which are rightfully theirs.
"Today the tribes mourn the loss of our companions in nature who helped nurture our bodies, our minds and our spirit," explains CRITFC executive director Ted Strong.
"We decry the rising cost of restoring life forms sadistically and systematically destroyed by human encroachment. These magnificent creatures of land, air and water gave purpose to existence. Today, the political, financial, ethical and social behavior of a newly formed society disregards the need for peaceful co-existence between humans and their environment."
Pacific Northwest Bureau Chief
News from Indian Country
At last.
More than five decades after massive dams quieted the once wild Columbia River and submerged traditional native fishing sites, the federal government has started to replace those sites, as they promised more than 50 years ago.
Ground was broken last month on the first of 31 sites intended as replacements for those flooded by the Bonneville Dam, in accordance with a 1988 Congressional law. The initial 7.8 acre site on the river's north side will have a campground, drying sheds, water and sanitation facilities.
Treaties guaranteed the Columbia River Nations — Nez Perce, Umatilla, Warm Springs and Yakama — the right to fish at their usual places along the river for all time. But their fishing places, handed down from generation to generation since time immemorial, were flooded along a 40-mile stretch when the dams were built.
The federal government promised in 1939 to replace their homes, fishing platforms and drying sheds on 400 substitute acres, but few sites were completed before the project stalled amid friction between governments and the chaos of World War II.
Ironically, groundbreaking on the replacement sites comes after the extinction of some salmon species. Others are at risk of extinction due to the perils of hydroelectric dams. Excessive logging and overgrazing on federal lands have also contributed to their demise.
For decades the river Nations have been persistent in addressing state and federal governments and their agencies in an effort to stop the destruction of the salmon and its habitat.
The Columbia River Inter-tribal Fish Commission, representing the Nez Perce, Umatilla, Warm Springs and Yakama, has turned not only to governments and agencies but to the people of the Northwest with their 1995 salmon restoration plan, Wy-Kan-Ush-Mi Wa-Kish-Wit (Spirit of the Salmon). They have appealed to everyone, asking them to work together to responsibly and reasonably to return the salmon to the waters in which they were created and which are rightfully theirs.
"Today the tribes mourn the loss of our companions in nature who helped nurture our bodies, our minds and our spirit," explains CRITFC executive director Ted Strong.
"We decry the rising cost of restoring life forms sadistically and systematically destroyed by human encroachment. These magnificent creatures of land, air and water gave purpose to existence. Today, the political, financial, ethical and social behavior of a newly formed society disregards the need for peaceful co-existence between humans and their environment."
Tuesday, October 24, 1995
Sho-Bans block train carrying nuclear waste
By Terri C. Hansen
News from Indian Country
Bureau Chief/Pacific Northwest Bureau
Pocatello, Idaho—A naval train carrying six highly radioactive nuclear waste casks from Navy warships was halted by leaders of the Shoshone-Bannock Tribes Oct. 24 when the train entered their half-million-acre Fort Hall Reservation south of Blackfoot, Idaho without tribal authorization, the Sho-Ban News reported.
Tribal administrators advised Union Pacific Railroad of their pending action, while three tribal patrol cars were sent to stop the moving train. They held it at a standstill for over six hours.
Fort Hall Business Council Chairman Delbert Farmer said the action was taken because the tribes were not party to and had not endorsed a controversial Oct. 16 agreement between Idaho, the Department of Energy and U.S. Navy to transport highly radioactive spent nuclear fuel rods across the reservation. Idaho was not authorized to permit nuclear wastes to cross the reservation, and neither the Navy nor DOE obtained Shoshone-Bannock permission to cross tribal lands, a tribal statement said.
"The State of Idaho and Governor [Phil] Batt do not represent nor speak for the Shoshone-Bannock Tribes," Chairman Farmer declared. "This is our homeland and we are mandated to protect it by [tribal] members."
Acting tribal DOE director Dianne Yupe told the Idaho State Journal, "The tribes are not recognizing the state's agreement with the Department of Energy and the Navy because the state failed to recognize the sovereignty and the position of the tribes.
Following assurances from the Navy that the train would not stop at any point on the reservation, the tribal Business Council agreed to permit the waste to continue with a tribal police escort. Their agreement allowed for passage of five or six previously scheduled shipments within the week.
Tribal leaders began immediate talks with government officials, who agreed to hold public hearings for tribal members Nov. 20 and 21. Federal officials are planning meetings for the general public — at the tribe's request — near the end of November.
The nuclear waste was en route to the Idaho National Engineering Laboratory, part of Shoshone Bannock ancestral lands, for 40-year storage and burial as per the Idaho, DOE and Navy agreement. The nuclear waste, taken from ships posted at the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard in Bremerton, Wash., was the first of over 1100 proposed Navy and DOE shipments.
News from Indian Country
Bureau Chief/Pacific Northwest Bureau
Pocatello, Idaho—A naval train carrying six highly radioactive nuclear waste casks from Navy warships was halted by leaders of the Shoshone-Bannock Tribes Oct. 24 when the train entered their half-million-acre Fort Hall Reservation south of Blackfoot, Idaho without tribal authorization, the Sho-Ban News reported.
Tribal administrators advised Union Pacific Railroad of their pending action, while three tribal patrol cars were sent to stop the moving train. They held it at a standstill for over six hours.
Fort Hall Business Council Chairman Delbert Farmer said the action was taken because the tribes were not party to and had not endorsed a controversial Oct. 16 agreement between Idaho, the Department of Energy and U.S. Navy to transport highly radioactive spent nuclear fuel rods across the reservation. Idaho was not authorized to permit nuclear wastes to cross the reservation, and neither the Navy nor DOE obtained Shoshone-Bannock permission to cross tribal lands, a tribal statement said.
"The State of Idaho and Governor [Phil] Batt do not represent nor speak for the Shoshone-Bannock Tribes," Chairman Farmer declared. "This is our homeland and we are mandated to protect it by [tribal] members."
Acting tribal DOE director Dianne Yupe told the Idaho State Journal, "The tribes are not recognizing the state's agreement with the Department of Energy and the Navy because the state failed to recognize the sovereignty and the position of the tribes.
Following assurances from the Navy that the train would not stop at any point on the reservation, the tribal Business Council agreed to permit the waste to continue with a tribal police escort. Their agreement allowed for passage of five or six previously scheduled shipments within the week.
Tribal leaders began immediate talks with government officials, who agreed to hold public hearings for tribal members Nov. 20 and 21. Federal officials are planning meetings for the general public — at the tribe's request — near the end of November.
The nuclear waste was en route to the Idaho National Engineering Laboratory, part of Shoshone Bannock ancestral lands, for 40-year storage and burial as per the Idaho, DOE and Navy agreement. The nuclear waste, taken from ships posted at the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard in Bremerton, Wash., was the first of over 1100 proposed Navy and DOE shipments.
Tuesday, August 15, 1995
Ecocide in Indian Country
by Terri C. Hansen, Bureau Chief
News From Indian Country
Pacific Northwest Bureau
August 15, 1995
Ecocide. It's a chilling word that is used more and more to describe the rising damage caused by America's toxic environment. There is suspicion that American Indians may be at higher risk of injury from toxic exposures than the general population. What follows is the first a two-part series in which News from Indian Country examines the adverse health effects of commonly used chemicals on Native people.
Dioxin with your salmon?
The young Yakama fisherman holds out his hands. "They've never touched a hook," he says proudly. He fishes the Columbia River using ways handed down by his grandfathers, with spear and net.
Leonard comes from a traditional family. True, he has to keep a day job in the city, but when the five o'clock whistle blows he drives two hours east to his people's centuries-old fishing grounds on the north side of what is today called the Columbia River Gorge.
Intertwined with this once-wild river's journey to the Pacific is the journey of the salmon, and those who call the salmon sacred. For Leonard and many others this river is their true home, their spiritual home.
But a serious new worry troubles Leonard and the treaty fishers. Are they getting a hefty dose of dioxin with their salmon?
Last September the EPA released a draft report on dioxin that was the first to publicly suggest exposure could result in human health conditions more hazardous than cancer. The agency concluded that even trace amounts of the organochlorine chemical – present in many pesticides and dry-cleaning compounds – can cause injury to the immune, reproductive and developmental systems, and birth defects.
Last October the Columbia River Inter-Tribal Fish Commission, who represent the Nez Perce, Umatilla, Warm Springs, and Yakama nations, released a fish consumption survey revealing that Columbia River Indians eat a great deal more fish than most Americans.
The EPA's daily recommended fish consumption rate is 6.5 grams, while the average Columbia River tribal member consumes 58.7 grams of fish per day.
Because tribal members typically consume not only the meat but the whole fish, they are exposing themselves to dangerously high toxicity levels in their diets.
"In light of the survey and EPA's recent conclusions on the toxicity of dioxin and related compounds, we believe that the health of tribal members is not adequately protected by existing federal and state policies," says Ted Strong, CRITFC's executive director.
"We urge an investigation of the industrial permits issued ... for possible violation of President Clinton's Executive Order on Environmental Justice and the Civil rights Act."
Upstream from the Yakama's traditional fishing grounds eight paper mills release dioxin into the river. Two mills discharge almost directly into tribal fishing areas. Pesticides, furans, PCBs, heavy metals, and radionuclides also choke the waters of the deep river. In 1992 the American Rivers Council declared it America's most endangered river, seriously bringing the future of the centuries-old lifestyle of the peoples of the Columbia River into question.
Shoalwater Bay Tribe
Willipa Bay is recognized as the cleanest tidewater on the West Coast. Inland streams flow into this 88,000 acre bay to mingle with Pacific Ocean waters in a kind of cleansing ritual. But in recent years the Willipa environment has been severely compromised.
On the north side of the bay is the Shoalwater Bay Reservation. The tribe here has gained attention over the past five years for its increasing health problems and astronomical infant mortality rate. It's the kind of attention the tribe doesn't want.
Their pain and their questions began in the mid-80s, when their babies began to die. By 1992, this tiny coastal village had lost 16 infants.
Between the years 1987 and 1992, the Shoalwaters had 24 confirmed pregnancies. Of those, two infants died during their first year, two babies were stillborn, and twelve were lost to miscarriage.
In 1993, state and tribal health officials considered their lack of basic health care, and use of cigarettes, drugs, or alcohol as possible causes for the infant deaths. Another culprit briefly considered by officials was chemical exposure from spraying on surrounding lands and waters.
Commercial forests cover two-thirds of the bay's watershed and are sprayed with herbicides by helicopter to kill unwanted vegetation.
Cranberry bogs - 1400 acres of the bay's watershed - are sprayed from February through August with fungicides and insecticides.
Commercial oyster farming is widespread in the bay's shallow waters, and so is the use of insecticides to kill the ghost shrimp that soften the mud beneath the oyster beds.
The Shoalwaters and local citizens tried to prevent the oyster farmers from spraying new herbicides onto the bay to kill spartina grass, which softens the mud too. After a 24-month struggle, the pro-spraying forces prevailed, pushing the growth of pesticide use the bay's watershed.
"The acreage they're covering is getting larger and larger every year," says a frustrated Herbert Whitish, the Shoalwaters' tribal chairman.
As to the cause of infant deaths, no funding was provided for research because of the tribe's small population.
The infant mortality rate for Native Americans in Washington State is 12.6 deaths per 1,000 births, as compared to 7.5 deaths for whites, according to Indian Health Service. Nationally, the rate in Indian Country is 11.0 as opposed to 8.5 for whites.
Children most at risk
Because toxins accumulate in fatty tissues, women are two to three times more likely than men to be adversely affected by chemical spraying and other chemical exposures. But most at risk could be the children, who are small and have immature detoxifications systems. Kids inhabit spaces that adults generally do not - on floors, in the dirt, under things.
Children and adults who become ill report fatigue, headaches, sleep problems, joint and muscle pain, neurological problems, depression, confusion, memory-loss, learning and attention disorders, seizures, and blackouts, among other symptoms. Earlier this year, a study found that children who are regularly exposed to pesticides suffer elevated rates of childhood leukemia and soft tissue sarcomas.
Cautious hope
Meanwhile, cautious hope has returned to Shoalwater Bay. There was a baby born last year, and another this year. Again there will be moms, dads, brothers, sisters, grandmothers, and grandfathers. But any happiness has to be tempered with an overriding worry. Many, if not most, of the Shoalwater tribal members are chronically ill.
"We've seen a lot of need (for medical services)," says Whitish, who also serves an interim director of the tribe's newly opened health clinic. "Everybody on the reservation has one sort of ailment or another. Everyone has chronic health problems."
Whitish, who himself suffers from the vague diagnosis chronic fatigue syndrome, says there are five tribal members diagnosed with the illness. But, he adds, there are many more than that who are suffering from it.
Name game
A multiplicity of terms have sprung up to identify syndromes related to toxic exposure.
Commonly used are chemical injuries, multiple chemical sensitivity, environmental illness, chronic fatigue syndrome or fibromyalgia, sick building syndrome, Gulf War syndrome and a host of autoimmune disorders.
Routine medical tests often do not reveal abnormalities, leading uninformed physicians to misdiagnose chemical injuries as depression - or some other psychiatric condition.
More specific tests are required to accurately diagnose a chemical injury, or related autoimmune and neurological disorders.
Some patients, aware that CFS and MCS are not well known to most physicians and are thus rarely diagnosed, will seek out a diagnosis by finding a knowledgeable doctor. CFS and MCS are most routinely diagnosed by specialists who call themselves Clinical Ecologists, while rheumatologists diagnose CFS, and autoimmune disorders such as systemic lupus and multiple sclerosis.
Symptoms of toxicity include, but are not limited to flu-like illness, headaches, frequent urination, sudden fatigue or drowsiness, dry mouth and/or eyes, unexplained rashes, hives, chest pains, sore or twitching muscles, rapid heartbeat, hair loss, numbness, tingling or burning in the face or extremities, yeast infections, pre-menstrual problems, low birth weight babies, food intolerances, food cravings, gassiness or cramps.
Central nervous system impairments include emotional instability, forgetfulness, sudden or unexplained irritability or rage, depression, hyperactivity, confusion, forgetfulness, difficulty in thinking, anxiety, panic attacks, black outs and seizures.
It is important to note that this is not a complete list of symptoms. Some individuals may experience only one symptom, but most will have multiple symptoms, which may appear gradually or suddenly.
Neurotoxic illness greater public health threat than cancer
Suspicions about chemical and pesticide safety have existed since they were first concocted by chemists a century ago. But the numbers of reported chemical injuries are now sharply increasing as people in all segments of society become aware of environmental dangers.
In the last 50 years, industry has introduced well over 65,000 new chemicals into our environment. The EPA each year receives around 1,500 notices of intent to manufacture new chemical substances. No accurate figures are kept to caution the public how many chemicals are in existence that produce neurotoxic effects.
Perhaps the most sobering news of the neurotoxic effects of chemicals comes from a recent federal government report that says the illnesses associated with neurotoxicity are likely to pose a greater threat to public health in the coming years than cancer.
The report, released by the Congressional office of Technology Assessment, says the adverse neurotoxic effects of chemicals "range from impaired movement, anxiety, and confusion to memory loss, convulsions, and death."
Recognizing the growing numbers of chemically affected people living in public housing, the federal office of Housing and Urban Development issued a ruling that recognizes Multiple Chemical Sensitivity Disorders.
Any tenant of a HUD housing complex who has been diagnosed with MCS is now entitled to force building owners to cease any application of chemicals that might harm them. These include paints, fertilizers, pesticides, and other substances commonly used by landlords. HUD recognizes MCS as a handicap and has sued landlords for economic loss, emotional distress, and other injuries caused to chemically sensitive tenants.
Victims mistaken say big business, chemical industry
Still, there is total resistance among the chemical industry and other branches of big business to admit their products are harmful to humans, let alone the environment at large.
The Chemical Manufactures Association has gone so far as to accuse those who believe they are environmentally ill and their physicians of being completely mistaken.
The CMA admits that these patients are ill and "deserving of compassion, understanding and expert medical care," but adds that these patients "... generally lead troubled lives and have genuine problems coping with family, work, and lifestyle pressures."
Sufferers say CMA depicts patients as maladjusted malcontents so their clients, the chemical industry, can continue to churn out toxic products. With the recent emergence of so many toxic-related syndromes, it's become clear to sufferers and their physicians that CMA - much like the tobacco industry - is backpedaling furiously to head off any financial threat, regardless of the impact on human health.
"The label of 'environmental illness' is a misdiagnosis and condemns these patients to the life of an outcast with little hope of a cure," says the CMA. "It is not the legitimacy of the patients that is in question, but the alleged environmental cause. Failure to recognize this critical difference can result in enormous costs to the patient, the industry, and to society."
The tip of the iceberg
The cases of environmental poisoning described in this article appear to be the tiny tip of a massive iceberg. A dizzying line-up of toxic pollution is scattered throughout Indian Country.
On Navajo lands, an estimated 600 dwellings are considered radioactive. Uranium mining on the Navajo Reservation is thought to be responsible for the epidemic of birth defects, miscarriages, cancer, and other diseases.
The Traditional Seminole Nation, a non-recognized subsistence band of 200 in Florida, wants to relocate because toxic discharges from nearby incinerators are making subsistence living too dangerous.
Native American basket weavers in California are exposed to high levels of pesticides and herbicides as they pick and process grasses and other natural materials with their hands and mouths. Some complain of numbness and other ill-effects after processing materials that may have been sprayed. The "California Indian Basketweavers Association" was formed in 1991 to address issues that impact traditional basket weavers, including the use of pesticides.
Michael Hamilton, a 14-year-old boy, was shot and killed as tribal members on California's Torres-Martinez Reservation battled industry to stop dumping toxic sludge on their land. The illegal dump, which tribal members say causes breathing difficulties, nausea, diarrhea, and headaches, has grown so large it has been dubbed "sludge mountain."
Fish from Minnesota's St. Louis River, used for subsistence fishing by the Fond du Lac Band of Chippewa, have been found to be contaminated with methylmercury, believed to be associated with area paper, steel and iron industries, and with the use of municipal garbage as fuel for incinerating sewage waste and sludge.
The St. Lawrence River in New York State has been the major source of subsistence foods for the Mohawk, but waste from a General Motors foundry turned the Twentieth century River into an exposure pathway of PCBs and waste. Fish and wildlife on the Akwesasne reservation were unfit to be eaten. In 1990 the Mohawks passed a tribal resolution adopting standards for PCBs in Akwesasne that have been used by EPA in determining emission standards.
Their battle is far from won
While recognition of the hazards of pesticides earlier in the Clinton administration gave many cause for hope, the battle for health is by no means won.
On May 16, 1995 a House Agricultural Subcommittee held hearings that environmentalists say will ease restrictions on cancer causing pesticides and strip states of their authority to adopt standards more restrictive than the federal government.
The legislation seeks to repeal the Delaney Clause, a provision of the Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act which prohibits cancer causing pesticide residues in processed food. The Clause has been under attack by a coalition of food and chemical companies. This is all in the context of a national cancer epidemic, striking one in three in the US, and a dramatic worldwide decline in the male sperm count over the past fifty years.
Staying safe
The most important step you can take to protect yourself and your family is avoidance and prevention.
It is critical, especially with infants and children who are less capable of detoxifying than adults, to avoid toxic substances. This means using non-toxic products whenever possible.
There are numerous books published that describe how to clean the good old-fashioned way using vinegar, lemon juice, borax, baking soda, and real soap flakes.
Always be particularly careful what you put in and on your children. Pesticide residue has been found on some three percent of produce sold in this country.
Water is another source of toxic exposure. Treated water is chlorinated and ground water is all too often contaminated with pesticide residues and solvents, especially in poorer neighborhoods.
Even baby clothing and mattresses are treated with questionable flame retardants. Disposable diapers are a source of dioxin, one of the most toxic substances known.
Read the labels of everything you buy. Ask questions. Protect your children, your community, and your People. Never trust that what someone else is doing to the air or water in the name of health is safe practice.
Be prepared to fight. The chemical industry is very powerful and does not give up. Neither should you. Stay healthy. It is harder to fight if you are ill.
The best rule of thumb is to use natural materials whenever you can. As much as possible live in the manner of our ancestors. They lived in natural homes, they slept on natural bedding.
They sat down upon our Mother Earth, not on seats constructed of synthetic materials. They walked barefoot and wore soft leather, letting the Earth's contours stimulate the soles of their feet, which helped to keep their bodies and health in balance.
Their diets and daily living patterns were in accordance to the seasons. If they were injured they laid upon the ground, pulling the Earth's natural healing powers into their bodies.
Our heritage is our spirituality, our harmony and balance with the Earth, and our connection to all living creatures, to our community and to our people. Our legacy can guide us to survival.
News From Indian Country
Pacific Northwest Bureau
August 15, 1995
Ecocide. It's a chilling word that is used more and more to describe the rising damage caused by America's toxic environment. There is suspicion that American Indians may be at higher risk of injury from toxic exposures than the general population. What follows is the first a two-part series in which News from Indian Country examines the adverse health effects of commonly used chemicals on Native people.
Dioxin with your salmon?
The young Yakama fisherman holds out his hands. "They've never touched a hook," he says proudly. He fishes the Columbia River using ways handed down by his grandfathers, with spear and net.
Leonard comes from a traditional family. True, he has to keep a day job in the city, but when the five o'clock whistle blows he drives two hours east to his people's centuries-old fishing grounds on the north side of what is today called the Columbia River Gorge.
Intertwined with this once-wild river's journey to the Pacific is the journey of the salmon, and those who call the salmon sacred. For Leonard and many others this river is their true home, their spiritual home.
But a serious new worry troubles Leonard and the treaty fishers. Are they getting a hefty dose of dioxin with their salmon?
Last September the EPA released a draft report on dioxin that was the first to publicly suggest exposure could result in human health conditions more hazardous than cancer. The agency concluded that even trace amounts of the organochlorine chemical – present in many pesticides and dry-cleaning compounds – can cause injury to the immune, reproductive and developmental systems, and birth defects.
Last October the Columbia River Inter-Tribal Fish Commission, who represent the Nez Perce, Umatilla, Warm Springs, and Yakama nations, released a fish consumption survey revealing that Columbia River Indians eat a great deal more fish than most Americans.
The EPA's daily recommended fish consumption rate is 6.5 grams, while the average Columbia River tribal member consumes 58.7 grams of fish per day.
Because tribal members typically consume not only the meat but the whole fish, they are exposing themselves to dangerously high toxicity levels in their diets.
"In light of the survey and EPA's recent conclusions on the toxicity of dioxin and related compounds, we believe that the health of tribal members is not adequately protected by existing federal and state policies," says Ted Strong, CRITFC's executive director.
"We urge an investigation of the industrial permits issued ... for possible violation of President Clinton's Executive Order on Environmental Justice and the Civil rights Act."
Upstream from the Yakama's traditional fishing grounds eight paper mills release dioxin into the river. Two mills discharge almost directly into tribal fishing areas. Pesticides, furans, PCBs, heavy metals, and radionuclides also choke the waters of the deep river. In 1992 the American Rivers Council declared it America's most endangered river, seriously bringing the future of the centuries-old lifestyle of the peoples of the Columbia River into question.
Shoalwater Bay Tribe
Willipa Bay is recognized as the cleanest tidewater on the West Coast. Inland streams flow into this 88,000 acre bay to mingle with Pacific Ocean waters in a kind of cleansing ritual. But in recent years the Willipa environment has been severely compromised.
On the north side of the bay is the Shoalwater Bay Reservation. The tribe here has gained attention over the past five years for its increasing health problems and astronomical infant mortality rate. It's the kind of attention the tribe doesn't want.
Their pain and their questions began in the mid-80s, when their babies began to die. By 1992, this tiny coastal village had lost 16 infants.
Between the years 1987 and 1992, the Shoalwaters had 24 confirmed pregnancies. Of those, two infants died during their first year, two babies were stillborn, and twelve were lost to miscarriage.
In 1993, state and tribal health officials considered their lack of basic health care, and use of cigarettes, drugs, or alcohol as possible causes for the infant deaths. Another culprit briefly considered by officials was chemical exposure from spraying on surrounding lands and waters.
Commercial forests cover two-thirds of the bay's watershed and are sprayed with herbicides by helicopter to kill unwanted vegetation.
Cranberry bogs - 1400 acres of the bay's watershed - are sprayed from February through August with fungicides and insecticides.
Commercial oyster farming is widespread in the bay's shallow waters, and so is the use of insecticides to kill the ghost shrimp that soften the mud beneath the oyster beds.
The Shoalwaters and local citizens tried to prevent the oyster farmers from spraying new herbicides onto the bay to kill spartina grass, which softens the mud too. After a 24-month struggle, the pro-spraying forces prevailed, pushing the growth of pesticide use the bay's watershed.
"The acreage they're covering is getting larger and larger every year," says a frustrated Herbert Whitish, the Shoalwaters' tribal chairman.
As to the cause of infant deaths, no funding was provided for research because of the tribe's small population.
The infant mortality rate for Native Americans in Washington State is 12.6 deaths per 1,000 births, as compared to 7.5 deaths for whites, according to Indian Health Service. Nationally, the rate in Indian Country is 11.0 as opposed to 8.5 for whites.
Children most at risk
Because toxins accumulate in fatty tissues, women are two to three times more likely than men to be adversely affected by chemical spraying and other chemical exposures. But most at risk could be the children, who are small and have immature detoxifications systems. Kids inhabit spaces that adults generally do not - on floors, in the dirt, under things.
Children and adults who become ill report fatigue, headaches, sleep problems, joint and muscle pain, neurological problems, depression, confusion, memory-loss, learning and attention disorders, seizures, and blackouts, among other symptoms. Earlier this year, a study found that children who are regularly exposed to pesticides suffer elevated rates of childhood leukemia and soft tissue sarcomas.
Cautious hope
Meanwhile, cautious hope has returned to Shoalwater Bay. There was a baby born last year, and another this year. Again there will be moms, dads, brothers, sisters, grandmothers, and grandfathers. But any happiness has to be tempered with an overriding worry. Many, if not most, of the Shoalwater tribal members are chronically ill.
"We've seen a lot of need (for medical services)," says Whitish, who also serves an interim director of the tribe's newly opened health clinic. "Everybody on the reservation has one sort of ailment or another. Everyone has chronic health problems."
Whitish, who himself suffers from the vague diagnosis chronic fatigue syndrome, says there are five tribal members diagnosed with the illness. But, he adds, there are many more than that who are suffering from it.
Name game
A multiplicity of terms have sprung up to identify syndromes related to toxic exposure.
Commonly used are chemical injuries, multiple chemical sensitivity, environmental illness, chronic fatigue syndrome or fibromyalgia, sick building syndrome, Gulf War syndrome and a host of autoimmune disorders.
Routine medical tests often do not reveal abnormalities, leading uninformed physicians to misdiagnose chemical injuries as depression - or some other psychiatric condition.
More specific tests are required to accurately diagnose a chemical injury, or related autoimmune and neurological disorders.
Some patients, aware that CFS and MCS are not well known to most physicians and are thus rarely diagnosed, will seek out a diagnosis by finding a knowledgeable doctor. CFS and MCS are most routinely diagnosed by specialists who call themselves Clinical Ecologists, while rheumatologists diagnose CFS, and autoimmune disorders such as systemic lupus and multiple sclerosis.
Symptoms of toxicity include, but are not limited to flu-like illness, headaches, frequent urination, sudden fatigue or drowsiness, dry mouth and/or eyes, unexplained rashes, hives, chest pains, sore or twitching muscles, rapid heartbeat, hair loss, numbness, tingling or burning in the face or extremities, yeast infections, pre-menstrual problems, low birth weight babies, food intolerances, food cravings, gassiness or cramps.
Central nervous system impairments include emotional instability, forgetfulness, sudden or unexplained irritability or rage, depression, hyperactivity, confusion, forgetfulness, difficulty in thinking, anxiety, panic attacks, black outs and seizures.
It is important to note that this is not a complete list of symptoms. Some individuals may experience only one symptom, but most will have multiple symptoms, which may appear gradually or suddenly.
Neurotoxic illness greater public health threat than cancer
Suspicions about chemical and pesticide safety have existed since they were first concocted by chemists a century ago. But the numbers of reported chemical injuries are now sharply increasing as people in all segments of society become aware of environmental dangers.
In the last 50 years, industry has introduced well over 65,000 new chemicals into our environment. The EPA each year receives around 1,500 notices of intent to manufacture new chemical substances. No accurate figures are kept to caution the public how many chemicals are in existence that produce neurotoxic effects.
Perhaps the most sobering news of the neurotoxic effects of chemicals comes from a recent federal government report that says the illnesses associated with neurotoxicity are likely to pose a greater threat to public health in the coming years than cancer.
The report, released by the Congressional office of Technology Assessment, says the adverse neurotoxic effects of chemicals "range from impaired movement, anxiety, and confusion to memory loss, convulsions, and death."
Recognizing the growing numbers of chemically affected people living in public housing, the federal office of Housing and Urban Development issued a ruling that recognizes Multiple Chemical Sensitivity Disorders.
Any tenant of a HUD housing complex who has been diagnosed with MCS is now entitled to force building owners to cease any application of chemicals that might harm them. These include paints, fertilizers, pesticides, and other substances commonly used by landlords. HUD recognizes MCS as a handicap and has sued landlords for economic loss, emotional distress, and other injuries caused to chemically sensitive tenants.
Victims mistaken say big business, chemical industry
Still, there is total resistance among the chemical industry and other branches of big business to admit their products are harmful to humans, let alone the environment at large.
The Chemical Manufactures Association has gone so far as to accuse those who believe they are environmentally ill and their physicians of being completely mistaken.
The CMA admits that these patients are ill and "deserving of compassion, understanding and expert medical care," but adds that these patients "... generally lead troubled lives and have genuine problems coping with family, work, and lifestyle pressures."
Sufferers say CMA depicts patients as maladjusted malcontents so their clients, the chemical industry, can continue to churn out toxic products. With the recent emergence of so many toxic-related syndromes, it's become clear to sufferers and their physicians that CMA - much like the tobacco industry - is backpedaling furiously to head off any financial threat, regardless of the impact on human health.
"The label of 'environmental illness' is a misdiagnosis and condemns these patients to the life of an outcast with little hope of a cure," says the CMA. "It is not the legitimacy of the patients that is in question, but the alleged environmental cause. Failure to recognize this critical difference can result in enormous costs to the patient, the industry, and to society."
The tip of the iceberg
The cases of environmental poisoning described in this article appear to be the tiny tip of a massive iceberg. A dizzying line-up of toxic pollution is scattered throughout Indian Country.
On Navajo lands, an estimated 600 dwellings are considered radioactive. Uranium mining on the Navajo Reservation is thought to be responsible for the epidemic of birth defects, miscarriages, cancer, and other diseases.
The Traditional Seminole Nation, a non-recognized subsistence band of 200 in Florida, wants to relocate because toxic discharges from nearby incinerators are making subsistence living too dangerous.
Native American basket weavers in California are exposed to high levels of pesticides and herbicides as they pick and process grasses and other natural materials with their hands and mouths. Some complain of numbness and other ill-effects after processing materials that may have been sprayed. The "California Indian Basketweavers Association" was formed in 1991 to address issues that impact traditional basket weavers, including the use of pesticides.
Michael Hamilton, a 14-year-old boy, was shot and killed as tribal members on California's Torres-Martinez Reservation battled industry to stop dumping toxic sludge on their land. The illegal dump, which tribal members say causes breathing difficulties, nausea, diarrhea, and headaches, has grown so large it has been dubbed "sludge mountain."
Fish from Minnesota's St. Louis River, used for subsistence fishing by the Fond du Lac Band of Chippewa, have been found to be contaminated with methylmercury, believed to be associated with area paper, steel and iron industries, and with the use of municipal garbage as fuel for incinerating sewage waste and sludge.
The St. Lawrence River in New York State has been the major source of subsistence foods for the Mohawk, but waste from a General Motors foundry turned the Twentieth century River into an exposure pathway of PCBs and waste. Fish and wildlife on the Akwesasne reservation were unfit to be eaten. In 1990 the Mohawks passed a tribal resolution adopting standards for PCBs in Akwesasne that have been used by EPA in determining emission standards.
Their battle is far from won
While recognition of the hazards of pesticides earlier in the Clinton administration gave many cause for hope, the battle for health is by no means won.
On May 16, 1995 a House Agricultural Subcommittee held hearings that environmentalists say will ease restrictions on cancer causing pesticides and strip states of their authority to adopt standards more restrictive than the federal government.
The legislation seeks to repeal the Delaney Clause, a provision of the Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act which prohibits cancer causing pesticide residues in processed food. The Clause has been under attack by a coalition of food and chemical companies. This is all in the context of a national cancer epidemic, striking one in three in the US, and a dramatic worldwide decline in the male sperm count over the past fifty years.
Staying safe
The most important step you can take to protect yourself and your family is avoidance and prevention.
It is critical, especially with infants and children who are less capable of detoxifying than adults, to avoid toxic substances. This means using non-toxic products whenever possible.
There are numerous books published that describe how to clean the good old-fashioned way using vinegar, lemon juice, borax, baking soda, and real soap flakes.
Always be particularly careful what you put in and on your children. Pesticide residue has been found on some three percent of produce sold in this country.
Water is another source of toxic exposure. Treated water is chlorinated and ground water is all too often contaminated with pesticide residues and solvents, especially in poorer neighborhoods.
Even baby clothing and mattresses are treated with questionable flame retardants. Disposable diapers are a source of dioxin, one of the most toxic substances known.
Read the labels of everything you buy. Ask questions. Protect your children, your community, and your People. Never trust that what someone else is doing to the air or water in the name of health is safe practice.
Be prepared to fight. The chemical industry is very powerful and does not give up. Neither should you. Stay healthy. It is harder to fight if you are ill.
The best rule of thumb is to use natural materials whenever you can. As much as possible live in the manner of our ancestors. They lived in natural homes, they slept on natural bedding.
They sat down upon our Mother Earth, not on seats constructed of synthetic materials. They walked barefoot and wore soft leather, letting the Earth's contours stimulate the soles of their feet, which helped to keep their bodies and health in balance.
Their diets and daily living patterns were in accordance to the seasons. If they were injured they laid upon the ground, pulling the Earth's natural healing powers into their bodies.
Our heritage is our spirituality, our harmony and balance with the Earth, and our connection to all living creatures, to our community and to our people. Our legacy can guide us to survival.
Monday, October 24, 1994
The Changing Face of the West
SEJ Journal
By Terri C. Hansen
With a population of only 800, Escalante is small, but the environmental issues surrounding this town form a fitting composite of the larger picture taking place throughout the West.
The focus on these issues was through the story of this canyon in southern Utah, called "one of the most spectacular landscapes in the world" by panelist Jon Christensen, Great Basin regional editor of High Country News.
The town also has had the distinction of being named twice as one of "The nation's ten most endangered communities," by the National Association of Counties.
Moderator Howard Berkes, Rocky Mountain correspondent for National Public Radio, described Escalante as a place that visitors come to care deeply about. It is those visitors who are now fighting hard to preserve it.
Berkes described bitter battles "right on Main Street," where an environmentalist was hung in effigy. Another environmentalist had his well salted. Yet another had dynamite thrown into his home.
Residents who can trace their roots back to Mormon pioneers raise hay in the valley, and cut timber from the mountains above the town. They say they want to mine carbon dioxide and coal from the ridges above their town. Their cattle are free to run just about everywhere, including the canyons.
Some of these same cattle have been shot, execution-style. It is not clear who is responsible. Each side wants to blame the other.
Berkes used a question and answer format to frame these issues to panelists Joseph Chapman, dean of the College of Natural Resources at Utah State University, Scott Groene, staff attorney for Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance, Louise Liston, a native of Escalante and currently a Garfield County commissioner, Brooke Williams, an economic and environmental consultant, and Christensen. In this framework the panelists neatly illustrated many of the issues and changes taking place over the last 10 to 15 years in Escalante, providing an overview of the many dissimilar voices demanding a say in the future of the West.
By Terri C. Hansen
With a population of only 800, Escalante is small, but the environmental issues surrounding this town form a fitting composite of the larger picture taking place throughout the West.
The focus on these issues was through the story of this canyon in southern Utah, called "one of the most spectacular landscapes in the world" by panelist Jon Christensen, Great Basin regional editor of High Country News.
The town also has had the distinction of being named twice as one of "The nation's ten most endangered communities," by the National Association of Counties.
Moderator Howard Berkes, Rocky Mountain correspondent for National Public Radio, described Escalante as a place that visitors come to care deeply about. It is those visitors who are now fighting hard to preserve it.
Berkes described bitter battles "right on Main Street," where an environmentalist was hung in effigy. Another environmentalist had his well salted. Yet another had dynamite thrown into his home.
Residents who can trace their roots back to Mormon pioneers raise hay in the valley, and cut timber from the mountains above the town. They say they want to mine carbon dioxide and coal from the ridges above their town. Their cattle are free to run just about everywhere, including the canyons.
Some of these same cattle have been shot, execution-style. It is not clear who is responsible. Each side wants to blame the other.
Berkes used a question and answer format to frame these issues to panelists Joseph Chapman, dean of the College of Natural Resources at Utah State University, Scott Groene, staff attorney for Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance, Louise Liston, a native of Escalante and currently a Garfield County commissioner, Brooke Williams, an economic and environmental consultant, and Christensen. In this framework the panelists neatly illustrated many of the issues and changes taking place over the last 10 to 15 years in Escalante, providing an overview of the many dissimilar voices demanding a say in the future of the West.
Tuesday, October 4, 1994
Chlorine Ban: To Be or Not to Be?
SEJournal
By Terri C. Hansen
PROVO, Utah — The question, to ban or not to ban chlorine, has produced considerable debate. USA Today environmental reporter and editor Rae Tyson summarized a 1987 chlorine phase-out recommendation by the International Joint Commission of the United States and Canada, and asked a panel during SEJ's fourth annual conference, "Is a chlorine phase-out necessary?"
"Why are we giving chemicals constitutional rights?" askeded Greenpeace campaigner Bonnie Rice, basing her support of a ban on research studies including the recently issued EPA report that links dioxin, a chlorinated hydrocarbon, with immune system damage to humans and animals.
Attorney Gordon Durnil, chairman of the IJC at the time of its recommendation, said commission members studied the process for two years before recommending a phase-out, based on solid scientific evidence. The chlorine industry responded with a 30-year timetable, he said.
But the industry opposes a phase-out, responded scientist Bill Carroll, a chemical company executive on loan to the Chlorine Chemical Council. Carroll used PVC compounds — used extensively in plumbing and sewer lines — to illustrate the negative economic and ecological impact of a phase-out. 96 percent of pesticides are chlorine-based, Carroll said, and almost all water disinfection relies on chlorine.
By Terri C. Hansen
PROVO, Utah — The question, to ban or not to ban chlorine, has produced considerable debate. USA Today environmental reporter and editor Rae Tyson summarized a 1987 chlorine phase-out recommendation by the International Joint Commission of the United States and Canada, and asked a panel during SEJ's fourth annual conference, "Is a chlorine phase-out necessary?"
"Why are we giving chemicals constitutional rights?" askeded Greenpeace campaigner Bonnie Rice, basing her support of a ban on research studies including the recently issued EPA report that links dioxin, a chlorinated hydrocarbon, with immune system damage to humans and animals.
Attorney Gordon Durnil, chairman of the IJC at the time of its recommendation, said commission members studied the process for two years before recommending a phase-out, based on solid scientific evidence. The chlorine industry responded with a 30-year timetable, he said.
But the industry opposes a phase-out, responded scientist Bill Carroll, a chemical company executive on loan to the Chlorine Chemical Council. Carroll used PVC compounds — used extensively in plumbing and sewer lines — to illustrate the negative economic and ecological impact of a phase-out. 96 percent of pesticides are chlorine-based, Carroll said, and almost all water disinfection relies on chlorine.
Thursday, September 1, 1994
EPA establishes new office to strengthen tribal operations
By Terri C. Hansen
Pacific Northwest Bureau Chief
News from Indian Country
WASHINGTON, D.C.—A new Office of Tribal Operations has been established within the Environmental Protection Agency to address critical gaps in environmental protection and improve the EPA's government-to-government partnership with Tribes.
A team of senior EPA managers have been working since January to identify ways of strengthening communication and understanding between EPA and tribes. A memorandum issued by EPA administrator Carol M. Browner last July announced specific actions for strengthening tribal operations, which included establishing a base description of tribal environmental problems and priorities, workplans for responding to those problems, field assistance, grant flexibility and streamlining, resource investment in tribal operations, and training for EPA staff.
Terry Williams, named as director of the new office, will work closely with top leaders in the EPA programs and regional offices in evaluating the levels of assistance being provided to tribes in air, water, waste, and other programs.
Williams, who prior to accepting the position served as executive director of the Tulalip Tribes Fisheries and Natural Resources in Washington state, said he looks forward to the challenges the newly created position offers. "Establishment of this new office will help ensure that Indian tribes throughout the U.S. receive the resources needed to address their environmental concerns," he stated in a news release.
"Terry has been a consistent, strong and effective advocate for tribal sovereignty and environmental protection in Indian Country," said Browner. "I look forward to having him join my senior management team."
Pacific Northwest Bureau Chief
News from Indian Country
WASHINGTON, D.C.—A new Office of Tribal Operations has been established within the Environmental Protection Agency to address critical gaps in environmental protection and improve the EPA's government-to-government partnership with Tribes.
A team of senior EPA managers have been working since January to identify ways of strengthening communication and understanding between EPA and tribes. A memorandum issued by EPA administrator Carol M. Browner last July announced specific actions for strengthening tribal operations, which included establishing a base description of tribal environmental problems and priorities, workplans for responding to those problems, field assistance, grant flexibility and streamlining, resource investment in tribal operations, and training for EPA staff.
Terry Williams, named as director of the new office, will work closely with top leaders in the EPA programs and regional offices in evaluating the levels of assistance being provided to tribes in air, water, waste, and other programs.
Williams, who prior to accepting the position served as executive director of the Tulalip Tribes Fisheries and Natural Resources in Washington state, said he looks forward to the challenges the newly created position offers. "Establishment of this new office will help ensure that Indian tribes throughout the U.S. receive the resources needed to address their environmental concerns," he stated in a news release.
"Terry has been a consistent, strong and effective advocate for tribal sovereignty and environmental protection in Indian Country," said Browner. "I look forward to having him join my senior management team."
Wednesday, June 22, 1994
Coeur d'Alene Tribe wants to clean up 100 years of mining poison
"Paradise in Peril"
Coeur d'Alene Tribe wants to clean up 100 years of mining poison
By Terri C. Hansen
News from Indian Country
Pacific Northwest Bureau Chief
COEUR D'ALENE, Idaho—On top of battling several of Idaho's political and economic heavyweights, the Coeur d'Alene Indian Tribe has challenged some of the largest mining companies in the world in their fight to force a clean up of mining contamination in the Coeur d'Alene River basin. A documentary produced by the Coeur d'Alenes describes their effort to return their sacred homeland to its once pristine state. The 25-minute film, "Paradise in Peril," airs on Idaho's public television network this month.
Using scenes of a starkly devastated landscape, the film informs viewers of the deadly outcome of a century of mining in what is known as Idaho's "Silver Valley". Home to a mining empire that lasted one hundred years, an estimated 72 million tons of mine waste poured down the rivers and tributaries of the Silver Valley basin and into Lake Coeur d'Alene.
Heavy metal pollution has destroyed much of the plant, animal and aquatic life of the region. The death of over 7000 tundra swans here, which stop and feed in the area during their migration, has been attributed by biologists to heavy metal poisoning. Many areas are now unsafe and dangerous to humans, especially children. The damage stretches over hundreds of square miles.
According to a 1991 U.S. Geological Survey report, Lake Coeur d'Alene has the highest heavy-metal contamination in the world. The federal Environmental Protection Agency designated a 21 square mile section a Superfund clean up site. The site, known as Bunker Hill, is the second worst Superfund project in the nation.
Coeur d'Alene tribal officials say Bunker Hill is but a small portion of the one hundred polluted miles. The designated Superfund site is a rectangular box, seven miles long and three miles wide. The Tribe calls it a "10% solution for 10% of the problem." The clean-up boundary ignores 90 percent of the pollution upriver from the site — 86 miles along the Coeur d'Alene River basin, which presently flows with lead, zinc, cadmium and arsenic. "As this battle continues, so does the flow of poisons," tribal officials say.
The Tribe says a study done by the mining companies accused of the pollution—and required to fund the clean up—has revealed heavy metal contaminants still flowing down the basin's tributaries into the Superfund clean-up box at the rate of 900 pounds each day. 1200 pounds flow out of the box downstream and into the lake. Even if the EPA is successful in removing heavy metals from Bunker Hill, much of the current load will still be released into the lake, the Tribe contends.
In Nov. 1992, efforts by the Coeur d'Alenes resulted in an unprecedented agreement signed between the Tribe, the state of Idaho and the U.S. government. The Memorandum of Agreement gave the Coeur d'Alenes the same authority as the state and federal government towards developing a restoration plan. The Tribe commended the agreement for recognizing their status as a sovereign nation.
But the mining companies were incensed, according to newspaper articles at that time. Gordon Crow, executive director of the Council for Mineral-Information, said in a local newspaper interview, "It means the tribe will have veto power over any and all decisions. The state's letting the fox into its own chicken coop and freezing out the people who are paying for the restoration efforts." CMI is an industry advocacy group based in Coeur d'Alene.
The Coeur d'Alene Tribe has taken their battle to federal court, with less success. To force a clean up of the poison, the Tribe filed a lawsuit in 1991 claiming tribal ownership of Lake Coeur d'Alene. The suit relies on an executive order issued by President Grant in 1873, which set aside the Tribe's reservation lands. But in a 1992 decision, U.S. Judge Harold Ryan dismissed the lawsuit. Ryan, citing the 11th Amendment, said the jurisdiction of federal courts does not extend to cases brought against a state by an Indian tribe, since states cannot be sued by another state or foreign nation. Ryan determined that Grant's executive order did not specifically include the lake, ruling that the federal equal footing doctrine gave ownership of all land under passable waters to Idaho upon statehood in 1890.
The Tribe appealed the decision Feb. 2, 1994 in Seattle, before the San Francisco-based 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. They asked the three-judge panel to reverse and send the suit back for trial, contending the judge ruled on the merits of the case when he concluded the lake was state-owned. In a separate action, the Tribe is suing the mining companies to pay for the clean up. However, Judge Ryan said that suit was a moot point in his 1992 decision dismissing the ownership lawsuit.
But the Coeur d'Alenes does not plan to give up. They are only gaining strength as warriors for what may be a protracted battle to restore a once undefiled land back to the condition intended by Creator.
And they are not alone. The Idaho Wildlife Federation—an affiliate of the National Wildlife Federation—recognized the Coeur d'Alene Tribe's leadership role and tireless efforts to expose and demand a solution to the contamination problem. In a 1993 resolution, the IWF urged support of the Coeur d'Alene Tribe, "who have often been the most persistent voice in detailing what is a national tragedy."
"Paradise in Peril" is available in video format. To order, send $25 to Bob Bostwick, Coeur d'Alene Indian Tribe, Route 1, Plummer, Idaho 83851.
Copyright © 1994 Terri Crawford Hansen
Coeur d'Alene Tribe wants to clean up 100 years of mining poison
By Terri C. Hansen
News from Indian Country
Pacific Northwest Bureau Chief
COEUR D'ALENE, Idaho—On top of battling several of Idaho's political and economic heavyweights, the Coeur d'Alene Indian Tribe has challenged some of the largest mining companies in the world in their fight to force a clean up of mining contamination in the Coeur d'Alene River basin. A documentary produced by the Coeur d'Alenes describes their effort to return their sacred homeland to its once pristine state. The 25-minute film, "Paradise in Peril," airs on Idaho's public television network this month.
Using scenes of a starkly devastated landscape, the film informs viewers of the deadly outcome of a century of mining in what is known as Idaho's "Silver Valley". Home to a mining empire that lasted one hundred years, an estimated 72 million tons of mine waste poured down the rivers and tributaries of the Silver Valley basin and into Lake Coeur d'Alene.
Heavy metal pollution has destroyed much of the plant, animal and aquatic life of the region. The death of over 7000 tundra swans here, which stop and feed in the area during their migration, has been attributed by biologists to heavy metal poisoning. Many areas are now unsafe and dangerous to humans, especially children. The damage stretches over hundreds of square miles.
According to a 1991 U.S. Geological Survey report, Lake Coeur d'Alene has the highest heavy-metal contamination in the world. The federal Environmental Protection Agency designated a 21 square mile section a Superfund clean up site. The site, known as Bunker Hill, is the second worst Superfund project in the nation.
Coeur d'Alene tribal officials say Bunker Hill is but a small portion of the one hundred polluted miles. The designated Superfund site is a rectangular box, seven miles long and three miles wide. The Tribe calls it a "10% solution for 10% of the problem." The clean-up boundary ignores 90 percent of the pollution upriver from the site — 86 miles along the Coeur d'Alene River basin, which presently flows with lead, zinc, cadmium and arsenic. "As this battle continues, so does the flow of poisons," tribal officials say.
The Tribe says a study done by the mining companies accused of the pollution—and required to fund the clean up—has revealed heavy metal contaminants still flowing down the basin's tributaries into the Superfund clean-up box at the rate of 900 pounds each day. 1200 pounds flow out of the box downstream and into the lake. Even if the EPA is successful in removing heavy metals from Bunker Hill, much of the current load will still be released into the lake, the Tribe contends.
In Nov. 1992, efforts by the Coeur d'Alenes resulted in an unprecedented agreement signed between the Tribe, the state of Idaho and the U.S. government. The Memorandum of Agreement gave the Coeur d'Alenes the same authority as the state and federal government towards developing a restoration plan. The Tribe commended the agreement for recognizing their status as a sovereign nation.
But the mining companies were incensed, according to newspaper articles at that time. Gordon Crow, executive director of the Council for Mineral-Information, said in a local newspaper interview, "It means the tribe will have veto power over any and all decisions. The state's letting the fox into its own chicken coop and freezing out the people who are paying for the restoration efforts." CMI is an industry advocacy group based in Coeur d'Alene.
The Coeur d'Alene Tribe has taken their battle to federal court, with less success. To force a clean up of the poison, the Tribe filed a lawsuit in 1991 claiming tribal ownership of Lake Coeur d'Alene. The suit relies on an executive order issued by President Grant in 1873, which set aside the Tribe's reservation lands. But in a 1992 decision, U.S. Judge Harold Ryan dismissed the lawsuit. Ryan, citing the 11th Amendment, said the jurisdiction of federal courts does not extend to cases brought against a state by an Indian tribe, since states cannot be sued by another state or foreign nation. Ryan determined that Grant's executive order did not specifically include the lake, ruling that the federal equal footing doctrine gave ownership of all land under passable waters to Idaho upon statehood in 1890.
The Tribe appealed the decision Feb. 2, 1994 in Seattle, before the San Francisco-based 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. They asked the three-judge panel to reverse and send the suit back for trial, contending the judge ruled on the merits of the case when he concluded the lake was state-owned. In a separate action, the Tribe is suing the mining companies to pay for the clean up. However, Judge Ryan said that suit was a moot point in his 1992 decision dismissing the ownership lawsuit.
But the Coeur d'Alenes does not plan to give up. They are only gaining strength as warriors for what may be a protracted battle to restore a once undefiled land back to the condition intended by Creator.
And they are not alone. The Idaho Wildlife Federation—an affiliate of the National Wildlife Federation—recognized the Coeur d'Alene Tribe's leadership role and tireless efforts to expose and demand a solution to the contamination problem. In a 1993 resolution, the IWF urged support of the Coeur d'Alene Tribe, "who have often been the most persistent voice in detailing what is a national tragedy."
"Paradise in Peril" is available in video format. To order, send $25 to Bob Bostwick, Coeur d'Alene Indian Tribe, Route 1, Plummer, Idaho 83851.
Copyright © 1994 Terri Crawford Hansen
Pacific Northwest Salmon in Crisis
by Terri C. Hansen
News from Indian Country
Bureau Chief/Pacific Northwest Bureau
Blame it on El Nino, warming ocean waters, hydroelectric dams, habitat destruction or even sea lions. But whatever the cause of dwindling salmon runs, the effect on Northwest Indian Nations can be summed up in one word: catastrophic.
"Certainly it is an economic crisis," says W. Ron Allen, chairman of the Washington Puget Sound Jamestown S'Klallam Tribe. But just as important - if not more so - are the spiritual and cultural aspects, he believes. Salmon are at the heart of Northwest Indian culture; their diet, commerce, ceremonies and spirituality. Salmon are not just a way of life. They are life. And they are fast becoming scarce.
Salmon runs plunged from 16 million less than half a century ago to just two million today. 106 stocks of wild Pacific salmon are extinct, according to the American Fisheries Society. Over 200 more are in peril. This year's projections for all coho and chinook salmon runs are worse than last year's all-time low.
The Northwest Indian Fisheries Commission represents nineteen Western Washington tribes with treaty fishing rights. Their expected announcement that the tribes would drastically reduce their customary salmon harvest this year came on March 31. More jolting, especially in terms of cultural impact, was their announcement that, in hopes of saving disappearing coho salmon runs, the tribes would cease all coho salmon fishing this year."
It was a difficult choice for the tribal leadership to make," says Allen, who as chairman of a treaty fishing tribe participated in the decision-making process. "Some tribes lean more heavily on certain salmon species than others," he says. "But we all rely on the coho."
The coho are in the worst trouble. Washington's Puget Sound coho runs are projected to drop under the minimum levels needed to spawn the next generation. Coho, also known as silver salmon, spawn in coastal streams from northern California to Washington. After spending their first year in the streams they travel to the ocean, where they live for two years before returning home to their native stream to spawn. So few wild coho remain today many environmental groups want them protected under the Endangered Species Act.
According to Northwest Indian fishing alliances, the current crisis has been in the making for some time. El Nino tipped the scales by warming the oceans and reducing the availability of the nutrient-rich cool water, Steve Robinson of the Northwest Indian Fish Commission explains. Because they are released at the same stage and stay closer to shore, coho are especially vulnerable and have been hardest hit by poor ocean conditions, says the Washington Department of Fisheries.
In an unprecedented move, the federal agency responsible for setting non-tribal ocean fishing limits adopted a "zero option" plan to close ocean fishing for all salmon species this year. The Pacific Fishery Management Council's official announcement came April 8. Rules for non-tribal river and estuary fishing won't be set until later this month. Even with no ocean fishing season, the number of salmon returning to Columbia River hatcheries will probably be less than the number needed to sustain the runs. Few coho returned this year to spawn. The destruction of their natural habitat has been an issue of environmentalists and Indian fishers for nearly two decades. Northwest treaty fishing nations, long involved in efforts to save declining salmon stocks, have labored since the early 80s to have sensitive portions of Pacific Northwest national forests designated "wilderness," thus protecting fish habitat from the erosion and stream sedimentation associated with logging and uncontrolled grazing. (Cold water, essential to most species of salmon, disappears from streams when logging and grazing practices eliminate vegetation needed for shade. The sediment and mud produced by clearcutting destroys salmon spawning areas; silt suffocates their eggs.) Lower stream flows due to irrigation, dryer than usual temperatures and low rainfall have all contributed to less than ample water in the streams.
But, many agree, it is the hydroelectric dams that have played a major role in the salmon's decline. Since the 1930s, when the Columbia began the change from a "wild," free-flowing river to a series of slack-water reservoirs, dam turbines have diced millions of smolts not intercepted by mechanical bypass systems or spilled over dams. Young fish that do survive may spend weeks getting to the ocean, a trip that once took a few days. Timing is critical to their survival; salmon smolts, once they begin a biological body change allowing them to adjust to life in salt water, have only a short time to reach the ocean or they die. In spite of a 1980 directive to dam operators from Congress to give equal treatment to the fish, dams have continued to operate primarily to maximize power generation.
"Volts over smolts" was a phrase used in a newsletter published almost a decade ago by a frustrated Columbia River Inter-tribal Fish Commission. CRITFC represents four Columbia River treaty fishing nations; the Nez Perce, Umatilla, Warm Springs and Yakama. Commission publications throughout the 80s and 90s describe tribal efforts to decrease salmon smolt mortality by increasing spillwater over nine Columbia River dams that stand between salmon smolt and the sea. But the agencies and utilities responsible for the massive system of dams and reservoirs used on the Columbia and Snake rivers objected, claiming the price tag of lost electrical generation would come at too high a cost. Tim Wapato, then executive director of CRITFC, said (referring to 1985 U.S.-Canada treaty negotiations), "It doesn't do much good to limit the ocean catch if the smolts can't get to the sea." It echoes like a tragic prophecy today.
Earlier this year, in spite of well documented disappearing salmon runs and the recommendations of their own biologists, government agencies responsible for Columbia River Basin dam operations put forward a "business as usual" salmon recovery plan, declaring that "explanations for declining salmon stocks are elusive." CRITFC rejected the five-year plan, saying that it was "scientifically flawed," "contradictory to the requirements of the Endangered Species Act," and failed to adequately protect the declining salmon. Along with the states of Oregon and Alaska, CRITFC joined a lawsuit filed by Idaho in 1993 challenging the plan as inadequate.
On March 18, U.S. District Judge Malcolm Marsh heard arguments in the case in Boise, Idaho. Marsh ruled the plan flawed because it relied too much on the "status quo ... when the situation literally cries out for a major overhaul." He ordered the National Marine Fisheries Service, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, Bonneville Power Administration and Bureau of Reclamation to prepare a new plan within 60 days. Bill Yallup, a tribal council member of the Yakama Indian Nation, is on the Columbia River Inter-tribal Fish Commission. In a recent Associated Press article he analogized, "To deal only with harvest is like painting the outside of a house while the foundation is crumbling." Without intervention, Yallup says we will soon have no salmon left to harvest or -- more importantly -- to reproduce.
Copyright © 1994 Terri Crawford Hansen
Ethnic News Watch -- SoftLine Information, Inc., Stamford, CT
News from Indian Country
Bureau Chief/Pacific Northwest Bureau
Blame it on El Nino, warming ocean waters, hydroelectric dams, habitat destruction or even sea lions. But whatever the cause of dwindling salmon runs, the effect on Northwest Indian Nations can be summed up in one word: catastrophic.
"Certainly it is an economic crisis," says W. Ron Allen, chairman of the Washington Puget Sound Jamestown S'Klallam Tribe. But just as important - if not more so - are the spiritual and cultural aspects, he believes. Salmon are at the heart of Northwest Indian culture; their diet, commerce, ceremonies and spirituality. Salmon are not just a way of life. They are life. And they are fast becoming scarce.
Salmon runs plunged from 16 million less than half a century ago to just two million today. 106 stocks of wild Pacific salmon are extinct, according to the American Fisheries Society. Over 200 more are in peril. This year's projections for all coho and chinook salmon runs are worse than last year's all-time low.
The Northwest Indian Fisheries Commission represents nineteen Western Washington tribes with treaty fishing rights. Their expected announcement that the tribes would drastically reduce their customary salmon harvest this year came on March 31. More jolting, especially in terms of cultural impact, was their announcement that, in hopes of saving disappearing coho salmon runs, the tribes would cease all coho salmon fishing this year."
It was a difficult choice for the tribal leadership to make," says Allen, who as chairman of a treaty fishing tribe participated in the decision-making process. "Some tribes lean more heavily on certain salmon species than others," he says. "But we all rely on the coho."
The coho are in the worst trouble. Washington's Puget Sound coho runs are projected to drop under the minimum levels needed to spawn the next generation. Coho, also known as silver salmon, spawn in coastal streams from northern California to Washington. After spending their first year in the streams they travel to the ocean, where they live for two years before returning home to their native stream to spawn. So few wild coho remain today many environmental groups want them protected under the Endangered Species Act.
According to Northwest Indian fishing alliances, the current crisis has been in the making for some time. El Nino tipped the scales by warming the oceans and reducing the availability of the nutrient-rich cool water, Steve Robinson of the Northwest Indian Fish Commission explains. Because they are released at the same stage and stay closer to shore, coho are especially vulnerable and have been hardest hit by poor ocean conditions, says the Washington Department of Fisheries.
In an unprecedented move, the federal agency responsible for setting non-tribal ocean fishing limits adopted a "zero option" plan to close ocean fishing for all salmon species this year. The Pacific Fishery Management Council's official announcement came April 8. Rules for non-tribal river and estuary fishing won't be set until later this month. Even with no ocean fishing season, the number of salmon returning to Columbia River hatcheries will probably be less than the number needed to sustain the runs. Few coho returned this year to spawn. The destruction of their natural habitat has been an issue of environmentalists and Indian fishers for nearly two decades. Northwest treaty fishing nations, long involved in efforts to save declining salmon stocks, have labored since the early 80s to have sensitive portions of Pacific Northwest national forests designated "wilderness," thus protecting fish habitat from the erosion and stream sedimentation associated with logging and uncontrolled grazing. (Cold water, essential to most species of salmon, disappears from streams when logging and grazing practices eliminate vegetation needed for shade. The sediment and mud produced by clearcutting destroys salmon spawning areas; silt suffocates their eggs.) Lower stream flows due to irrigation, dryer than usual temperatures and low rainfall have all contributed to less than ample water in the streams.
But, many agree, it is the hydroelectric dams that have played a major role in the salmon's decline. Since the 1930s, when the Columbia began the change from a "wild," free-flowing river to a series of slack-water reservoirs, dam turbines have diced millions of smolts not intercepted by mechanical bypass systems or spilled over dams. Young fish that do survive may spend weeks getting to the ocean, a trip that once took a few days. Timing is critical to their survival; salmon smolts, once they begin a biological body change allowing them to adjust to life in salt water, have only a short time to reach the ocean or they die. In spite of a 1980 directive to dam operators from Congress to give equal treatment to the fish, dams have continued to operate primarily to maximize power generation.
"Volts over smolts" was a phrase used in a newsletter published almost a decade ago by a frustrated Columbia River Inter-tribal Fish Commission. CRITFC represents four Columbia River treaty fishing nations; the Nez Perce, Umatilla, Warm Springs and Yakama. Commission publications throughout the 80s and 90s describe tribal efforts to decrease salmon smolt mortality by increasing spillwater over nine Columbia River dams that stand between salmon smolt and the sea. But the agencies and utilities responsible for the massive system of dams and reservoirs used on the Columbia and Snake rivers objected, claiming the price tag of lost electrical generation would come at too high a cost. Tim Wapato, then executive director of CRITFC, said (referring to 1985 U.S.-Canada treaty negotiations), "It doesn't do much good to limit the ocean catch if the smolts can't get to the sea." It echoes like a tragic prophecy today.
Earlier this year, in spite of well documented disappearing salmon runs and the recommendations of their own biologists, government agencies responsible for Columbia River Basin dam operations put forward a "business as usual" salmon recovery plan, declaring that "explanations for declining salmon stocks are elusive." CRITFC rejected the five-year plan, saying that it was "scientifically flawed," "contradictory to the requirements of the Endangered Species Act," and failed to adequately protect the declining salmon. Along with the states of Oregon and Alaska, CRITFC joined a lawsuit filed by Idaho in 1993 challenging the plan as inadequate.
On March 18, U.S. District Judge Malcolm Marsh heard arguments in the case in Boise, Idaho. Marsh ruled the plan flawed because it relied too much on the "status quo ... when the situation literally cries out for a major overhaul." He ordered the National Marine Fisheries Service, U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, Bonneville Power Administration and Bureau of Reclamation to prepare a new plan within 60 days. Bill Yallup, a tribal council member of the Yakama Indian Nation, is on the Columbia River Inter-tribal Fish Commission. In a recent Associated Press article he analogized, "To deal only with harvest is like painting the outside of a house while the foundation is crumbling." Without intervention, Yallup says we will soon have no salmon left to harvest or -- more importantly -- to reproduce.
Copyright © 1994 Terri Crawford Hansen
Ethnic News Watch -- SoftLine Information, Inc., Stamford, CT
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