#1005 – Dick Bernard: Photos of Positive People, and a Call to Act.

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Park Rapids MN Mar 14, 2015

Park Rapids MN Mar 14, 2015


There are lots of good things going on in the world, every day, every where.
This fact is easy to miss in a contemporary media environment that incessantly emphasizes bad news. But all one needs to do is to look around, listen, and get engaged.
Here’s a little photo gallery, with small captions, from just one recent week, taken at a League of Women Voters Saturday afternoon workshop in Park Rapids MN, and at a meeting about overpopulation of the planet in Minneapolis. Most of the speakers were ordinary folks, just like the rest of us. But this gave particular power to their presentations, in my opinion.
And at the end, a recent article I spied in last Sunday’s Minneapolis Star Tribune about Climate Change, and something I wrote about the same topic 10 ten years ago.
The March 14 workshop in Park Rapids was about Sustainable Agriculture, and the citizen speakers well informed, and interesting. (In the end, my opinion, it is always ordinary citizens who will make the difference…and time and time again, I hear the “expert” speakers affirm that the essential folks towards positive change are the folks we’ve never heard of.
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Sally Shearer, Park Rapids MN, Mar 14, 2015

Sally Shearer, Park Rapids MN, Mar 14, 2015


Sally Shearer talked about the history of Minnesota agriculture, beginning, of course, with the indigenous people. She especially referenced a particularly interesting older book, Helping People Help Themselves, by Roland H. Abraham, about the history of agricultural extension,
Ed Poitras, Mar 14, 2015

Ed Poitras, Mar 14, 2015


Ed Poitras talked about this experience, as a boy in WWII, with Victory Gardens in his home state of Massachusetts. For those of us of a certain age, we remember gardening, cooking, canning, raising chickens, and the like. These are lost arts which may well again become essentials.
Anne Morgan, Mar. 14, 2015

Anne Morgan, Mar. 14, 2015


Anne Morgan gave us a primer on garden seeds.
Les Hiltz, Mar 14, 2015

Les Hiltz, Mar 14, 2015


Les Hiltz talked about bees and beekeeping. Bees are crucial to sustinability.
Winona Laduke, Mar 14, 2015

Winona Laduke, Mar 14, 2015


Winona Laduke was the most high profile speaker, and she spoke with feeling and intelligence and intensity about the land and the traditional ways.
March 19 in Minneapolis, David Paxson gave a jam-packed session on the issue of global overpopulation. His website is worth a visit.
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David Paxson, Mar 19, 2015

David Paxson, Mar 19, 2015


Finally, in the March 22, Minneapolis Star Tribune, in the Science section, I found an article about Al Gore and the issue of Climate. The article (pp 4&5), and some of my “history” with Mr. Gore (pp 1, 2 & 3), can be read here: Al Gore, 2005, 06, 2015002
In my opinion, Mr. Gore is a visionary, well worth paying attention to.
For me, personally, the solution ends up with those who are in the seats, listening.
Others better informed and in one way or another more “important” than us, may, in fact, know more than we do. But in the end it is every individual setting out to make a little difference, who will make the big and essential long term difference.
It is what we – not they – do that will make the difference.

Mar 19, 2014, Minneapolis

Mar 19, 2014, Minneapolis

#962 – Anne Dunn: I Have Been Told: The Thanksgiving Day Myth

Long-time great friend, Anne, has contributed her always valued perspective to this blog on several occasions. Her thoughts, below, arrived in my mailbox a couple of days ago and are presented with her permission. Her other posts, as well as other links referring to her or her work, can be found here. Thank you, Anne.
To everyone, all best wishes on November 27, and always. Personally, this day I’ll be going “over the river and through the woods” to visit Uncle Vince in North Dakota. Cathy will be here, with family nearby. As each year, we each are aware of persons, this day, for which this Thanksgiving and Christmas season will be a very difficult time, for an assortment of very legitimate reasons. Wherever you are on your personal journey, this season, all best wishes, and be mindful of others outside your personal sphere as well. Dick Bernard
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Anne Dunn, at right, with drum, August 31, 2013

Anne Dunn, at right, with drum, August 31, 2013


The United American Indian National Day of Mourning and Parade of Truth originated in America’s hometown of Plymouth Rock, Massachusetts, 1970. Its purpose was to bring publicity to the continued misrepresentation of Native American Indians and the colonial experience. Relatives and friends came from the four directions to support the first Day of Mourning.
Anyone who has been there knows that it has grown over the years. The parade begins at the top of Cole’s Hill, near the statue of Massasoit, and ends at the waterfront. There is a harvest market, food festival, local vendors, a Wampanoag Pavilion for Native American history and lots more!
Some will raise their eyebrows and call this crass commercialism. But false pilgrim mythology annually raises millions of dollars off the backs of our slaughtered indigenous ancestors.
As was the case with Christopher Columbus, the pilgrims did not “discover” an empty land. It was populated by indigenous nations of children, women and men. Nor did they come seeking religious freedom. They were part of a commercial venture.
One of the first things they did upon coming ashore was to rob graves and steal the indigenous inhabitant’s winter food provisions.
The first thanksgiving day was proclaimed in 1637 by Gov. John Winthrop to celebrate the safe return of men who went to Mystic, Connecticut, to participate in the massacre of over 700 Pequot children, women and men.
The pilgrims/settlers/colonists had to be sanitized because the truth was too ugly to hold up as a symbol of heroic national glory. Nor was Plymouth the site of the first English settlement.
That would be Jamestown, Virginia, which was set up inside the territory of an Indian Confederacy led by chief Powhatan. When the English settlers went through their starving times, they resorted to cannibalism by digging up putrid corpses to feed upon.
In the winter of 1610, some of them ran off to join the Indians where they knew they would be fed. When summer came the governor of the colony sent a message to Powhatan asking for the return of the runaway men.
But as Benjamin Franklin would later declare, “No European who has tasted Savage Life can afterwards bear to live in our societies.”
The runaways did not want to return and soldiers were sent to take revenge on the Indians. They killed 15 or 16 Indians, burned their houses, cut down the corn, and took the ‘queen’ and her children. They later drowned the children and stabbed the ‘queen’ to death.
In 1623 the English were negotiating a treaty with tribes near the Potomac River, headed by Chiskiack. The English offered a toast symbolizing “eternal friendship”. Afterwards the chief, his family, advisors and 200 followers died of poison.
John Smith used Columbus as a role model for suppressing the Virginia Indians, 1624. “… you have 20 examples of how the Spaniards got the West Indies, and forced the treacherous and rebellious infidels to do all manner of drudgery work and slavery for them, themselves living like soldiers upon the fruits of their labor.”
The Disney version of history is colorful, romantic but false.
The only truth in the pilgrim myth is that the pitiful Europeans would not have survived the first several years of their occupation without the aid of the Wampanoag people. In return for their kindness the First Nation People got genocide, theft of land and slavery.
Abe Lincoln designated the fourth Thursday of November as a day of thanksgiving for the blessings of his ethnocentric god. Some claim the first thanksgiving day was observed in El Paso, Texas, 1598. Others point to the Virginia Colony celebration of 1619. George Washington set aside days for national thanksgiving in 1789.
But in 1970 Wamsutta Frank James was asked to speak at a state dinner celebrating the 350th anniversary of the pilgrim landing. The committee read his speech, found it unacceptable and asked him to modify it. But he refused to speak in praise of the white newcomers. Therefore, he was not allowed to make any statement at the event.
What terrible words did this Department of Commerce committee find so offensive that it required their censorship?
Here is what Wamsutta had prepared for presentation: “Today is a time of celebrating for you…but it is not a time of celebrating for me. It is with heavy heart that I look back upon what happened to my People… The Pilgrims had hardly explored the shores of Cape Cod before they had robbed the graves of my ancestors, and stolen their corn, wheat and beans… Massasoit, the great leader of the Wampanoag, knew these facts; yet he and his People welcomed and befriended the settlers…little knowing that…before 50 years were to pass, the Wampanoags…and other Indians living near the settlers would be killed by their guns or dead by their diseases that we caught from them… Although our way of life is almost gone and our language is almost extinct, we the Wampanoags still walk the land of Massachusetts… What has happened cannot be changed, but today we work toward a better America, a more Indian America where people and nature once again are important.”
Some historians take issue with Wamsutta’s including wheat in the list of stolen food. They say the Wampanoag did not cultivate wheat.
This effort to silence the voice of one man brought First Nation Peoples from throughout America to Plymouth where they mourned their forebears who had been sold into slavery, burned alive, massacred, cheated and mistreated since the arrival of the pilgrims.
They asked, how can we give thanks for the fact that on many reservations unemployment is often in excess of 50%; for lower life expectancies; high infant mortality; soaring suicide rates and 350 broken treaties?
Consider the racist stereotypes of indigenous people as perpetuated by the Washington Redskins, Cleveland Indians, Atlantic Braves, etc.
The annual protest has continued from that day to this. I have been told that the protest will stop when merchants of Plymouth are no longer making millions of dollars off the blood of our slaughtered ancestors; when we can act as a sovereign nation on our own land; when corporations stop polluting our Mother Earth; when racism is eradicated; when oppression of two-spirited people is a thing of the past; when homeless people have homes; when hungry children have food; when police brutality no longer exists and when all political prisoners are free.
On the 27th my family will celebrate our heritage by being thankful for another good and beautiful day. We will light a sacred fire and standing on a mound of cedar we will thank Creator for specific personal blessings and burn our prayer bundles. We will gather around the drum for a song of gratitude, pray, eat and offer a spirit dish to our ancestors who enrich our earth journey and wait for us to gather with them on the other side.
Anne M. Dunn is a long-time and wonderful friend, an Anishinabe-Ojibwe grandmother storyteller and published author. She makes her home in rural Deer River, MN, on the Leech Lake Reservation. She can be reached at twigfigsATyahooDOTcom. She has several previous posts at Outside the Walls. You can read them all here.

#875 – Dick Bernard: Visiting History…including in the making

NOTE: See postnote about Hubert Humphrey at the end of this post.
Friday I decided to attend the Panel and Global Webinar “Living the Legacy of Hubert H. Humphrey” at the University of Minnesota Law School. The event celebrated the “35th Anniversary of Humphrey Fellowship Program..web-streamed for access by the other 15 Humphrey campuses and for Humphrey alumni around the world.” I expected an interesting program – previously I had attended the 25th anniversary in 2004 – but this years was particularly interesting.
The old history was recalled in a video by President Jimmy Carter (1977-81). The program was established in honor of Hubert Humphrey after his his death in 1978. In addition, Fridays program also recognized “the 50th Anniversary of the Civil Rights Act. Hubert H. Humphrey regarded the Act’s passage as a crowning achievement of his political career.” Seven of Humphreys family circle spoke as briefly as any Humphrey can speak (which is to say, 5 minutes means 10!) But everyone’s remarks were very interesting about their Dad, grandchild, uncle….
Two Humphrey alumni spoke (more a bit later).
Leading off the second panel was Bill Means, Lakota Elder and Board Member, International Indian Treaty Council.
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Bill Means, April 25, 2014

Bill Means, April 25, 2014


Mr. Means, a powerful Native American leader, had just come from the Minneapolis City Council, which had just voted to change Columbus Day to Indigenous Peoples Day in Minneapolis. It was, he said, the culmination of 50 years of effort.
I was always aware of the American Indian Movement, but never an active part of it, but I recalled a May, 1990, Pow Wow I’d attended in Minneapolis, and a page of the program booklet from that day which I published in a newsletter I edited in the summer of 1990. It speaks for itself: Heart of the Earth My 90001
I had taken quite a few photos that day, 24 years ago. Here are two. I believe the lady in the wheelchair is the legendary Meridel LeSueur. The event apparently recognized The American Indian Movements Heart of the Earth Survival School
Possibly Meridel LeSueur, May 26, 1990, Minneapolis MN

Possibly Meridel LeSueur, May 26, 1990, Minneapolis MN


Speakers at Pow Wow May 26, 1990, Minneapolis MN.  Is that Bill Means speaking?

Speakers at Pow Wow May 26, 1990, Minneapolis MN. Is that Bill Means speaking?


Part of the backdrop behind the speakers, May 26, 1990

Part of the backdrop behind the speakers, May 26, 1990


Mr. Means gave a short but powerful talk on April 25. He along with other powerful Native American leaders like Leonard Peltier, Dennis Banks, the Bellecourts and many others, brought attention to the native community ‘back in the day’ 50 or more years ago.
He said, I recall, that there are about 375,000,000 Indigenous Peoples in the world today. That would be about 5% of the worlds population, and more than the entire population of the United States.
Another speaker, Kaka Bag-ao, a Humphrey Fellow from 2006-07, powerfully talked about her post Humphrey career in the Philippines, including a powerful video of a 1700 kilometer (about 1000 miles) walk to Manila by many indigenous farmers successfully protesting seizure of their small farms for use as a golf course. At issue, it seemed, was 144 hectares of land – about 344 acres. The powerless got the attention of the powerful, but it wasn’t easy. Hopefully, I will be able to include the link to the video at this place soon.
Edmon Marukyan of Armenia (Fellow 2009-2010) had a similarly inspirational message to this and previous years Humphrey Fellows.
Among the many Humphrey family members, the one who impressed me the most was the youngest, Jordan Humphrey, Humphrey’s grandson. He was born a number of years after Humphrey died, and he’ll be a worthy representative of his grandfather.
It was a good day.
I’m glad I went.
Jordan Humphrey, April 25, 2014

Jordan Humphrey, April 25, 2014


POSTNOTE: About the time of the 25th anniversary of the Humphrey Fellows program in 2004, I came across an old recollection about Hubert Humphrey, and his reflections on politics, competition, and compassion. It became my 2004 Christmas message, and it can be read here. (The link is immediately after the painting at top of the page.)
The three visitors were visiting then-Senator and previously Vice-President Humphrey about compassion in politics. They recalled Humphrey saying this: “Senator Humphrey walked back to his desk, picked up a long pencil with a small eraser at its end, and said in his famous high-pitched voice, “Gentlemen, look at this pencil. Just as the eraser is only a very small part of this pencil and is used only when you make a mistake, so compassion is only called upon when things get out of hand. The main part of life is competition, only the eraser is compassion. It is sad to say, gentlemen, but in politics compassion is just part of the competition….”
Humphreys was a powerful message: it takes more than being compassionate to implement a policy of compassion. Politics, with all of its nastiness and competition, is a necessary part of the process of successfully implementing compassion. Walking the talk can be messy.
But Humphrey lived compassion through his deeds, not just his words.
One family member recalled that when HHH was nearing death, he made a point of calling his archrival, President Richard Nixon, urging Nixon to come out of self-imposed isolation and attend Humphreys funeral. Nixon had for a short time been Humphreys U.S. Senate colleague and later defeated Humphrey in the 1968 election, and resigned from the Presidency in 1974.
It was not mentioned, and I do not recall, if President Nixon came to the funeral in St. Paul, but the point is that the gesture was made. Humphreys “eraser” never hardened.
RESPONSE FROM LINEA PALMISANO, 13TH WARD REPRESENTATIVE, MINNEAPOLIS CITY COUNCIL April 28:
Thank you for this message, Dick.
I took some time here to read your blog post.
Frankly, I worry that the way this has been “messaged” in the media, and even shown through your blog post about we have ‘changed’ the day for the city… we are adding to Columbus Day at this point, to add recognition of Indigenous Peoples. We haven’t changed it the way most people outright said. These small increments will take some time, and a part of me fears that the actual language of what was approved last Friday is not what a number of the public speakers in the indigenous communities have made it out to be. I hope that come October, folks don’t feel anyone has pulled the wool over their eyes, so to speak.
I really, really liked reading about the Humphrey event and your pencil message. I have written it down and taped it beneath my computer screen. “… it takes more than being compassionate to implement a policy of compassion. Politics, with all of its nastiness and competition, is a necessary part of the process of successfully implementing compassion. Walking the talk can be messy.”
Thanks for reaching out.
Yours in Service,

#867 – Dick Bernard: The Tar Sands Pipeline and other matters of the environment

A relevant and current addendum to this post is the 2014 Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change accessible here.
Last Sunday after church I stopped by a table staffed by two members of the environmental organization MN350.
This day they were encouraging action against a proposed expansion of the Alberta Clipper Pipeline of Enbridge Energy, a Canadian Corporation. The planned demonstration was Thursday April 3 in St. Paul. The essential information about the contested project is here: Stop Alberta Clipper001.
I was interested in this issue, and Thursday afternoon came, with icy rain preliminary to a predicted 6-10 inches of snow overnight.
After some hemming and hawing, I arrived late at the demo, walked a few blocks in the march and came home.
I was glad I went. There was a good attendance, especially given the weather. My two favorite photos are these.
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April 3 Tar Sands Pipeline demo St. Paul MN

April 3 Tar Sands Pipeline demo St. Paul MN


April 3, 2014

April 3, 2014


Often I wonder if the whole climate change situation is hopeless. Are the people who walked in this demonstration wasting their time? As friends in the peace and justice movement know, I am no particular fan of protests simply for the sake of protesting.
But every now and then, there is encouragement, and Thursday was such a day, coming from an unusual direction. I picked up a little hope that the quiet majority is generally getting it – that there is a problem, despite the scoffers at ” the very words Global Warming”.
Before driving into St. Paul I had stopped at the Post Office to mail some items, and while I was affixing stamps a guy in my age range started to chat.
Of course, the threatening weather came up.
He said, “guess I’ll have to go and talk to God about it”. I answered, “I’ll check what happens and see what God had to say about your talk”.
We both chuckled.
We compared notes a bit, in the way that strangers do, dancing into uncharted waters. The deadly mudslide in Washington came up; the drought in California; less predictable and more severe weather generally….
The guy said, “maybe Al Gore knew something back then. Even my wife is starting to think so.”
The demonstrators probably won’t stop the pipeline but maybe they’ll encourage one or two more conversations like the one this fellow and I were having.
Games like this – making change – are played by the inch, not the mile. Dramatic change happens so slowly as to not even be noticed.
I’m thankful those two women caught my eye on Sunday, and that I picked up their literature.
Enroute home I got to thinking about two years ago at almost exactly this date in my town: the temperature was in the low 70s, and the trees were budding….
There was a frost that messed up the budding a few days later, but the difference between two years ago and now was indeed dramatic.
April 2, 2012, Woodbury (suburban St. Paul) MN

April 2, 2012, Woodbury (suburban St. Paul) MN


Native Americans from Red Lake MN used their banner as a windshield in downtown St. Paul April 3, 2014

Native Americans from Red Lake MN used their banner as a windshield in downtown St. Paul April 3, 2014

1000 Pages. 22 Years. Chez Nous and Nouvelles Villes Jumelles

“FAST FORWARD”: The link to Chez Nous and Nouvelles Villes Jumelles Index is Chez Nous NVJ 1979-2002 2 col Jul 8, 2016. The links to the pages of the newsletter are at the end of this page. A history of the newsletter and La Societe is Chez Nous & La Societe history June 25, 2016.
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Chez Nous001
Over a period of 22 years, a succession of volunteer editors recorded stories of the heritage and culture of the French and the Midwest in two newsletters, Chez Nous and Nouvelles Villes Jumelles.

Above (first line) is found the link to the index to the 155 issues, and access to pdf copies of every page of every newsletter – nearly 1000 pages in all.  IMPORTANT: When you find an article in this index which you wish to access, simply jot down the page number and return to this page, and click on the pertinent page range below. EXAMPLE: if the article is on page 87, click on page range 79-104 and when that opens, scroll down to page 87.
A commentary about the production of the 1979-2001 newsletters can be seen here.
Two tips:
1. Occasionally you may see something you wish to print. Near the upper right corner of each page is a handwritten number, usually in red, showing its page number within each file. This will make it possible for you to easily select the page(s) you wish to print, rather than having to print the entire file.
2. The index endeavors to group articles on similar topics. For instance, many people are interested in genealogy: check the index section headed “Genealogy”. Or “Recettes”, “Obituaries”, “France”….
ARCHIVES of the newsletters:
(Click on page range to access the pdf for the pages indicated)
CN – Chez Nous
NVJ – Nouvelles Villes Jumelles
CN 1-26001 CN Oct1979 – Mars81
CN 27-51002 CN Mai81 – Jan82
CNrev 52-78003 CN Mar82 – Jan83
CNrev2 79-104004 CN Mars83 – Oct83
CN 105-139005 CN Jan84 – Nov-Dec84
CNrev 140-170006 CN Jan-Fev85 – Nov-Dec85
CN -NVJ 171-211007 CN-NVJ Jan-Mar86 – Nov86-Jan87
NVJ 898-908001 NVJ Sep and Dec 86
NVJ 909-928002 NVJ Jan-Nov 87
CN -NVJ 212-249008 CN-NVJ Jan-Fev87 – Oct-Nov87
CN -NVJ 250-266009 CN-NVJ Dec-Jan88 – Avr-Mai88
CN -NVJ 267-291010 CN-NVJ Jui-Jui88 – Dec88-Jan89
CN -NVJ 292-309J011 CN-NVJ Fev-Mar89 – Jul89
CN -NVJ 310-327012 CN-NVJ Aou-Sep89 – Dec89-Jan90
CN -NVJ 328-339K013 CN-NVJ Fev-Mars90 – Jun90
CN -NVJ 340-375014 CN-NVJ Jui-Jui90 – Dec90-Jan91
CN -NVJ 376-402E015 CN-NVJ Jan-Fev91 – Mai-Jui91
CN -NVJ 403-430016 CN-NVJ Jui-Jui91 – Dec 91-Jan92
CN-NVJ 431-462018 CN-NVJ Jan-Fev92 – Jui-Jui92
CN-NVJ 463-504019 CN-NVJ Aou-Sep92 – Mai-Jui93
CN-NVJ 505-544020 CN-NVJ Jui-Aou93 – Mar-Avr94
CN-NVJ 545-577021 CN-NVJ Mai-Jui94 – Nov-Dec94
CN-NVJ 578-614022 CN-NVJ Jan-Fev95 – Sep-Oct95
CN-NVJ 615-649023 CN-NVJ Nov-Dec95 – Jui-Aou96
CN-NVJ 650-687024 CN-NVJ Sep-Oct96 – Mai-Jui97
CN-NVJ 688-725025 CN-NVJ Jui-Aou97 – Mar-Avr98
CN-NVJ 726-760026 CN-NVJ Mai-Jui98 – Jan-Fev99
CN-NVJ 761-791 20 yrs027 CN-NVJ Mar-Avr99 -Mai-Jui99
CN 792-829028 CN Jui-Aou99 – Jan-Fev2000
CN 830-861029 CN Mar-Avr00 – Nov-Dec00
CN 862-897030 CN Jan-Fev01 – Nov-Dec01

John Rivard, founder of La Societe Canadienne-Francaise du Minnesota. Undated, probably in the 1970s

John Rivard, founder of La Societe Canadienne-Francaise du Minnesota. Undated, probably in the 1970s

A few more photos of John Rivard, his role and his props! John Rivard ca 1970s001

Memorial Video 2005 (see link below)

Memorial Video 2005 (no longer available)

This post is part of the permanent record now being established through the French-American Heritage Foundation (FAHF), an organization founded in 2013 to continue the tradition of La Societe C-F and other similar groups.
You are encouraged to not only visit the FAHF site, and provide suggestions, comments and materials for use there, but also to share this site with others, and become a participating member yourself, financially and in other ways.

Now, enjoy the news as recorded below!
Dick Bernard, Woodbury MN
editor Chez Nous, 1985-2001 (98 of the issues) and former President of LSCF

#861 – Dick Bernard: A Nation of Immigrants. "Footprints in the Snow"

June, 1972

June, 1972


June 1972, with Joni and Tom

June 1972, with Joni and Tom


Today is St. Patrick’s Day. In a sense, everybody is Irish on this day (or the weekend preceding or following), for assorted reasons. Yesterday at Church was the annual moving rendition of “Danny Boy”. Here’s a recent version from New York City I saw on YouTube: “Danny Boy”. I don’t have a lick of Irish in me, but I wore green yesterday; today they’ll be serving green bagels at the bagel bakery next to my coffee shop…on the other end of the spectrum will be the buses taking patrons from pub to pub…a bad hangover in the offing for many who, like me, have not a lick of Irish in them….
We are definitely a nation of immigrants. Most of us of very mixed heritage. “Americans”.
And the stories are not all pleasant or nostalgic.
The Irish began to flood the U.S. in the 1840s, and the reason was they were being starved to death back home. Here’s Timothy Egan in yesterdays New York Times.
African Americans are descendants of “immigrants” – slaves of course, counted in our constitution as 60% of a person with no rights whatsoever, only as property value to their owner. Article I Section 2 of the U.S. Constitution makes this very clear early on when it defined persons: “Representatives and direct Taxes shall be apportioned among the several States which may be included within this Union, according to their respective Numbers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole Number of free Persons, including those bound to Service for a Term of Years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three fifths of all other Persons.”
“[A]ll other persons” equaled slaves, of course.
Of course, Indians were an entire other category – they didn’t count as persons at all (The Amherst Smallpox blankets, and such). Natives just didn’t count. As some would still say: “they lost the war. Get over it.”
Amendments 13, 14 and 15 to the U.S. Constitution, all from the 1860s, began to change the reality, but not very well, as we all know.
Some still fight these battles.
Back in November, 2013, an old guy who apparently hates President Obama, got in a little back-and-forth with me, including this gem: “The only reason [President Obama] was elected, was the fact that he is half black. You never hear him talk about being half white.”
Then there’s “Footprints in the Snow”, heading this post.
I’m half German, half-French-Canadian ancestry. Both sides Catholic, which remains my denomination of choice.
Saturday I had a conflict: I was chairing a still-forming organization to celebrate persons who are celebrating various aspects of French-American heritage at the exact same time I had planned to attend a program, “Tracks in the Snow”, sponsored by a group founded in early 2001, in the twin cities, IRG, the Islamic Resource Group.
I’ve enthusiastically supported IRG for several years – I think they serve an important role in helping build inter-cultural understanding.
Their program was very intriguing to me, and I had reserved to attend. It was about 20 minutes from my other meeting.
invitation for email invites jpeg
But I had this conflict.
As the French-American group knows, I finally decided to preside at the first part of the meeting, and ask a colleague, Pierre, to take the last part. Such was agreed, and I managed to visit both.
The speaker at IRG was excellent, and at one point talked about the still-conflict in the interpretation of the word “American” in the United States. We are “Americans”, but as in the days of our founding, there are still these psychological barriers by some to accepting certain others as fully a part.
Enroute home I got to thinking about the title and the artwork for the IRG presentation. I remembered something similar from before.
Back in the 1980s and 1990s I had edited a little newsletter for and about French-Canadians in the Twin Cities, and still have the 1000 or so pages, indexed and organized.
It was easy to find the article, “Footprints in the Snow”, and it is presented here for any who wish to read it: Footprints 1986001*
One program talked about Moslems in America since 1880; another about the French-Canadians in America.
I see some similarities.
Have a good St. Patricks Day.
Here’s to understanding, not enmity amongst peoples.
* – (Betty Morency Hudelson did the art work for Footprints in the Snow. She lived on the Mesabi Iron Range in northern Minnesota. Dr. Benoit, who commented on the article, remains a primary authority on the French-Canadian presence in the Midwest, still a resident of Red Lake Falls MN; Dan Gendreau lived in Blaine MN.)
POSTNOTE: Today is 11th anniversary of the beginning of the Iraq War. Yesterday came an interesting transcript from 11 years ago. You can read it here.
There are still some who think we “won” that war, or at minimum, we should keep at completing the win….

#856 – Dick Bernard: Day Three, Nobel Peace Prize Forum Augsburg College, Science and Health Day

Days One and Two: here. Sunday, March 9, program noon to 5 p.m. here.
UPDATE: All live stream talks at this years Forum “by Nobel Peace Prize Forum” are archived and immediately accessible in their entirety via google plus on YouTube here. By my count there are 13 talks on video thus far, and there will be at least two more today (Sunday March 9).
Today’s (March 8) Forum was stellar.
Personal takeaway: The theme of this years Forum, “Crossing Boundaries to Create Common Ground” holds consistently, and while I was exhausted at the end of the day, and the topics I heard were very serious, I went home feeling hope for the future. The grassroots (all of us) matter.
Todays two keynotes by Dr. Deane Marchbein U.S. President of Doctors Without Borders (Medicins sans Frontiers) and Dr. William Foege, best known for his major contribution to eradication of Smallpox, were superb. They were transmitted world wide live to an international audience, and appear in the video section referred to above. Both talks – indeed all the talks – are very well worth the 1 1/2 hours each. Also, check out Dr. Foege’s book on the eradication of Smallpox: “House on Fire: A Fight to Eradicate Smallpox”.
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Dr. Deane Marchbein, American President Doctors Without Borders, March 8, 2014

Dr. Deane Marchbein, American President Doctors Without Borders, March 8, 2014


Dr. William Foege, March 8, 2014

Dr. William Foege, March 8, 2014


In between, I had to choose between an assortment of workshops, one in the morning and the other in the afternoon, both 1 1/2 hours.
I’m not sure what the other workshops would have offered. Whatever the case, I made two great choices.
“Crowdsourcing to Create Common Ground” sounded interesting (live-streamed and archived here), and indeed it was, featuring four young academics, two with us, the others live-streamed from England, and from Denmark, talking about bridging the gap between past and future methods of finding common ground on questions of all kinds. Speaking as an older person in the midst of college age kids, I found the presentation very well done, and left with a great deal to think about. There are plenty of on-line links relating to the concept Crowdsourcing.
Here are a couple of photos (click to enlarge)
SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES
Live on-line from Oxford, England.  Once the connection was made, communication was clear and conversation seemed easy.

Live on-line from Oxford, England. Once the connection was made, communication was clear and conversation seemed easy.


Many thanks to Dr. Lucy Fortson of UofMN School of Physics and Astronomy; Caren Cooper, Cornell Lab of Ornithology (both on-site), Finn Danielson of Monitoring Matters Network; and Nordic foundation for Development and Ecology, linked in from Denmark; and a representative from zooniverse (in the photo) speaking from England.
In the afternoon, I attended a powerful (and very troubling) session entitled “Crossing Boundaries to Create American Indian Health Equity”. Speaker was Dr. Donald K. Warne Professor of Public Health Program a the North Dakota State University. Dr. Warne is Oglala Lakota who grew up in Kyle SD on the Pineridge Indian Reservation. The first two sentences of the seminar descriptor describes his session well: “We don’t have to travel to the 3rd world to find 3rd world health status. Health indicators of American Indians are shamefully low.” As part of life’s passage, many of us go to poor foreign countries to do good, which is great. In our backyard, at home in our own country, are many trapped in poverty.
Dr. Warne made his points gently, but firmly. His presentation was very clear and troubling, and the audience, largely students, was very attentive. I wish everyone could hear his talk.
I gathered Dr. Warne would be glad to have contacts from people with an interest in the topic: donaldDOTwarneATndsu.edu.
Dr. Donald Warne, March 8, 2014

Dr. Donald Warne, March 8, 2014

#850 – Ed Ehlinger: It’s the Little Things that Count

Every now and then a true gold nugget appears in my in-box, and this evening was one such nugget, from Dr. Ed Ehlinger, Commissioner, Minnesota Department of Health. His commentary is presented here with his permission. Wonderful Sharer of Story Anne Dunn, to whom he refers in his writing, is a long-time good friend of mine, and she has posted on several occasions at this blog. You can access her posts here.
Dr. Ehlinger, shared Feb. 23, 2014:
Greetings,
“I will tell you something about stories . . . They aren’t just entertainment. Don’t be fooled. They are all we have, you see, all we have to fight off illness and death.”
Leslie Marmon Silko, Ceremony
I was worrying about all of the big things that were facing me in the upcoming day when I left home on a recent sub-zero, cloudy, and dreary February morning. It was one of those days that prods one to question the reasons for living in Minnesota. To make matters worse, I was now stuck in a traffic jam on Interstate 94 where it crosses Hiawatha Avenue. Most of the gray exhaust rising from each of the cars idling on this highway turned parking lot was creating an environment that was not quite pea soup but more like dirty dishwater left in the sink overnight. The remainder of the exhaust was freezing on the pavement creating a black ice that made whatever movement there was hazardous and stressful.
The longer I was trapped in this traffic jam the more irritable I became. It was dawning on me that I was going to be spending a large chunk of time in my car in one of the gloomiest parts of town on one of the gloomiest days of the year. The irony of the presence of such ugliness as I sat stranded over a street named after a famous American Indian, whose name evokes images of nature’s beauty, was not lost on me and made my frustration even more intense.
That thought, however, momentarily took my mind away from I94 and Hiawatha Avenue and transported it to a storytelling session that I had attended over twenty years ago. Despite the fact that it had occurred so long ago, I could vividly recall the setting – a small cottage nestled in a small clump of trees in the middle of a preserved patch of prairie just south of the Twin Cities. The cottage was decorated with hand-crafted furniture, fabrics, and art. It was a magical place that gently coaxed stories out of people. It was the antithesis of I94 on this gloomy morning.
One of the storytellers made a particularly vivid impression on me. Her name was Anne Dunn, an Ojibwe woman from Cass Lake, MN. She had made the trip to the Twin Cities solely for the storytelling session. She knew it didn’t make any sense for her to come all that way just to tell a story or two but she had a feeling that she had to be there – so she was.
Her story was about a young man who had gone on a Vision Quest. Just before he departed, an elder approached him and advised him that over the next three days he should pay attention to the little things around him because they might hold something special. The young man said that he would and then departed with hopes of having a great vision that would give him some purpose and direction in his life.
When the young man reached the top of the hill that he had chosen for his quest, he set up his camp and began the fasting and prayer that he hoped would lead to his vision.
For three days he waited. No dreams came while he slept. He looked for signs from eagles, wolves, bears, or deer but nothing appeared. He gazed at the sky looking for clouds or thunder and lightning but nothing was visible to him. He looked at the trees and the rocks and the hills but he saw nothing but the landscape. He prayed, and even begged, for a sign but nothing came that he could recognize. Finally, exhausted and in despair he gave up his quest and headed back to his people.
Upon entering the village the young man was met by the elder who had talked with him before he left. The elder asked about the Vision Quest. The young man dejectedly replied that it was a failure; nothing had happened. He felt depressed and cheated.
The elder asked him about the bird. The young man replied that there were no birds.
The elder asked him again about the bird. The young man again replied but this time with some impatience in his voice that there were no birds. He had looked diligently for three days for signs of eagles, hawks, loons, or even owls but none had appeared.
For the third time the elder asked him about the bird. By this time the young man was beside himself. He screamed that there were no birds, that the place was barren, and that his whole Vision Quest was a waste of time.
The elder quietly asked “what about the bluebird?”
“O, that pesky little thing,” the young man replied. “He kept bothering me. I tried to chase it away but it kept coming back. After a while I just had to ignore it because it was interfering with my Vision Quest.”
As he was talking, the young man suddenly remembered the words of the elder before he had left on the Vision Quest -”pay attention to the little things.” With great despair he realized that he had disregarded this advice. The bluebird was trying to tell him something but he didn’t pay attention because he was looking for something more dramatic and spectacular than the appearance of a lowly little bluebird.
The young man went away and cried with the realization that he had wasted a golden opportunity.
Just then, I was jolted back to the present by a horn sounding behind me. The traffic had begun to move and, for the person behind me, I had been too slow to respond. I slowly pushed down on the accelerator and caught up with the flow of traffic. The cars were now moving but the murkiness and glumness of the surrounding city-scape remained. My mind went back to the advice of the elder in the story – “Pay attention to the little things around you. They may hold something special for you.”
At that moment I looked up through the dirty gray air toward the sun that was slowly rising directly ahead of me. Around the sun a glorious rainbow had appeared and was forming an arch over the road. The rainbow was created by the exhaust and polluted air which moments before I had been cursing.
I began to smile as I noticed that the most vibrant color of the rainbow was blue – a blue that matched the hue of a bluebird’s wing. At that point I knew that I was one of the reasons Anne Dunn came to the Twin Cities. I needed her story even though it took 2 decades to understand that. To paraphrase Leslie Marmon Silko, I needed her story to fight off the frustration and stress that was not leading to health. Her story also assured me that the big things in my day would take care of themselves if I stopped worrying and simply paid attention to the little things all around me.
It turned out to be a great day.
The 2014 legislative session starts this week. That’s a big thing. While we deal with that, let’s be sure to pay attention to the bluebird on our shoulder.

#844 – Anne Dunn: A Minnesota Ojibwe Woman Remembers a 2003 March for Peace in Toulouse, France and "The Children's Fire"

On February 15, 2003, the day after Valentines Day, peacemakers began a march that encompassed the world in an international protest against war! In almost 800 cities in 60 countries from 12,000,000 to 15,000,000 people took to the streets with a collective purpose.
At least one million marchers turned out in Britain, one million in Italy and two million in Spain, as people expressed their anti-war sentiment. Two hundred thousand rallied in San Francisco and New York. About 100,000 turned out in Paris, France. [Ed. note: see photo of the Minneapolis protest on Feb 15, 2003 at end of this post.]
The protests were organized to “follow the sun” from Australia to the US. Across the world the challenge came in many languages.
They say it was the first global demonstration, and the cause was to prevent war against Iraq. The war had not yet begun! No, the world was saying, we will not endorse Bush’s War. But the rubber-stamp congress would.
Although it was unseasonably cold, about 12,500 marched in the streets of Toulouse, France, to support the effort that encircled the earth. They came with balloons, banners, bulletins, badges, and babies. Quick-stepping mothers were pushing bundled babies in covered prams and fathers were carrying rosy-cheeked toddlers on their shoulders. White haired couples held hands as they strolled along.
Protestors came from across the social and political spectrum. There were representatives of democracy, socialism, communism, anarchy, business, labor, civil rights and the environment. There was at least one Anishinabe/Ojibwe Grandmother Storyteller from the Leech Lake Reservation marching the cobbled streets that day.
Yes, I was there in a borrowed ski jacket! Helene bought me a red and white checkered keffiyeh for the occasion. I tied it around my neck as I marched for solidarity and peace!
The keffiyeh is a scarf traditionally worn by Palestinian farmers to protect them from sun, cold and dust. During the Arab Revolt of the 1930s it became a symbol of nationalism. It’s prominence increased in the 1960s with the Palestinian Resistance Movement and its adoption by Yassar Arafat. He usually wore one of black and white.
From time to time the marchers joined their vigorous voices in loud anti-war chants. The words bounced around in the long stone canyons and shivered against the high windows. Some downtown residents opened their doors and leaned over their balconies to wave at the passing crowds.
As a river of people filled the streets of downtown Toulouse, traffic was brought to a standstill at several intersections. Drivers sat inside their stranded vehicles waiting patiently for the masses to pass.
Police kept a low profile and no law enforcement brutality was reported.
A statement was released the following day which proclaimed: We don’t just say ‘no’ to war, we say ‘yes’ to peace, we say ‘yes’ to building economic and social systems that are not dominated by central banks and huge financial institutions. We don’t just say ‘no’ to war – we demand an end to massive resources being squandered on the military while billions are made poorer and poorer as a few reap huge wealth totally disproportionate to any labor or ingenuity of their own.”
At one point in the march a man approached me and said his friend wanted to be photographed with the Ojibwe woman from Minnesota. Although I was quite surprised that my presence had been so noteworthy, I was more than willing to accommodate the man! Soon a short man with white hair, rosy cheeks and a cheerful smile was standing beside me. We shook hands, our photo shoot was over and he melted into the crowd.
A man standing nearby asked, “Do you realize who that was?”
“No,” I replied, ”I do not.” I had no interest in his identity. For me, it was just an encounter with a friendly stranger. It had no political significance.
But the man wanted me to know, so he went on speaking. “That was the chairman of the communist party!”
It was of no importance to me for I was marching with my friends, who were Socialists.
I flew home the following day. Like everyone else that had participated, I was exhilarated at the prospect of peace instead of war. But the leaders did not heed the wisdom of the people. So the infamous, barbarous, illegal, unnecessary and poorly conceived ‘shock and awe’ began. We became hopelessly entrenched in an unjust war. Children who were just 7 years old then, are old enough to enlist now.
Bush and his cohorts were beating a big war drum and telling loud and careless lies to the American people. The mainstream media did little or nothing to promote truth, justice and peace. Journalists simply swallowed the party line. Now we all know that Iraq had no weapons of mass destruction and there was no reason to destroy their homeland and murder their children with bombs.
Many will say we failed to purchase peace with people-power. They will say we did not avert the disastrous invasion and bloody occupation of Iraq. They will say we did not sustain the momentum of the march. They will say we went home and gave up.
But we are holding the ground for future generations to stand upon by protecting their constitutional right of dissent. We continue to confront our communities on the issue of unsustainable militarism, which is buried deep in the bloody earth upon which this nation has been built.
For the welfare of unborn generations we must redirect military spending to create jobs, invest in schools, housing and renewable energy.
Solidarity requires that we communicate with other peoples of the world, not the rich elite who are planning for their own continued dominance! We must lift ourselves up high and stand tall enough to see beyond the barriers of tribe, race, language, culture, class, and nations.
(click to enlarge)

Anti-War Demonstration Minneapolis MN Feb 15, 2003

Anti-War Demonstration Minneapolis MN Feb 15, 2003


UPDATE from Anne Dunn, February 17, 2014
The Children’s Fire
Anne Dunn
Like many people today, I’m deeply concerned about the land and have often wondered what kind of a world we are leaving to our grandchildren. Anishinabeg were told by Creator that we were the caretakers of this land and for thousands of years our ancestors took care that the resources were not exploited. But that position was usurped by the European invasion.
Since the Leech Lake Reservation is located within the boundaries of the Chippewa National Forest, there are many Anishinabeg who feel it is time that traditional standards of stewardship be adopted here and now.
Because… in the beginning there was the land, seemingly endless stands of white and red pine, innumerable streams and sparkling lakes; and there were the peoples of the land… the Anishinabeg. The great forests are gone now, plundered for profit… the streams and lakes are under siege. The peoples of the land stand poised and expectant… awaiting their season of respect and restitution. When a new and honorable history can be written with dignity and truth.
For decades, environmentalists have warned that our planet has limited resources. Yet, we continue to destroy that which we must preserve if our children and their children are to live well on Turtle Island.
The beautiful balance of nature no longer exists. Animal habitat is steadily encroached upon and the plant kingdom is increasingly threatened.
We can no longer allow our ecosystems to be compromised. We cannot allow the fate of earth, our island home, to be determined by the well-funded lobby of powerful corporations motivated by selfishness and greed.
The Hopi tell a story of The Children’s Fire, which promotes the concept that no one should be allowed to do anything that adversely affects our children.
It is said that the children’s fire must be forever guarded by the elders… the grandparents. But how do we guard the children’s fire? By getting out of bed and doing what has to be done. By standing alone in difficult places to give the children of tomorrow a good life in a good land.
One day the children will know that in the beginning… man, animals, birds and plants lived together on our Turtle Island in a beautiful balance of nature. The needs of all were met in the bountiful world they shared.
However, man became increasingly aggressive and began to abuse the rights of the plant and animal kingdoms.
Therefore, the harmony between them was destroyed. Many animals died needlessly and whole families disappeared.
But man continued his exploitations until he brought great hardship and strange diseases upon himself.
We will tell the children how the plants, which had remained friendly toward man, responded to his needs by providing remedies for all his diseases. Every herb and root produced a cure for man’s many ailments.
But, as was his nature, man’s aggressiveness and greed threatened to deplete the natural supply of health-giving plants.
If we continue down this road we will undoubtedly succeed in creating an environment so hostile that the survival of mankind will be jeopardized. It will be said that this generation extinguished the children’s fire.
Sunrise Oct 2014

Sunrise Oct 2014

#747 – Anne Dunn: I have been told

Anne M. Dunn is a long-time and wonderful friend, an Anishinabe-Ojibwe grandmother storyteller and published author. She makes her home in rural Deer River, MN, on the Leech Lake Reservation. She can be reached at twigfigsATyahooDOTcom. She has three previous posts at Outside the Walls. You can read them all here.
If you have an interest in publishing something at this space, contact dick_bernardATmsnDOTcom.
Feed The Dog
It happened during the Fish War*, on April 24, 1993, that I found myself at the East Lake Community Center, Mille Lacs. David Aubid, of Rice Lake, had brought out the drum. Several men joined hands across it as though they sealed a sacred trust.
Slowly… quietly… the circle around the drum enlarged and the heartbeat rhythm called us to unity.
Of course, there was a feast. Of course, walleye was served. Of course, Esther Nahgahnaub prepared an excellent road-kill beaver roast. Of course, I wrapped a piece in fried bread and enjoyed an outstanding sandwich.
Then after a long day of rain, the sky cleared and the stars came out. Later we would see a feather moon rise cardinal.
But first… the caravan formed.
We followed a procession of red lights through the dark night. As we crested the hills we looked back at a hundred headlights strung like beads on a serpentine string.
The first part of this Ride-For-Rights took us to Malmo. I was surprised at the extent of media coverage this event had attracted and I tried to ignore the cameras as the drum quietly called us to gather. The media lights were blistering bright and seemed to lacerate the friendly darkness.
Shoulder to shoulder we stood, engulfed in the sacredness of the moment, encouraged by singers of ancient songs.
But having just attended a non-violence witness training session, I grew a bit uneasy. We had been warned that there could be trouble. So I decided to check out the person standing behind me.
This is when I saw that which is now imprinted on my mind like a favorite photograph from an old album.
The drum, the singers, and ‘the first people’ were surrounded by the Witnesses for Peace. They formed a wide circle around us. Their white arm bands shone like emblems of valor. Their shoulders pressed back like brave defenders. The ring of young, pale, flint-like faces reflected their corporate determination.
Turning back to my own circle… I felt my heart rise into my throat and a comfortable old smile settled into the familiar lines that time had etched upon my aging face.
When I heard the old ones talking, when I heard them telling of the past and wondering what will be. They said, “The young ones must soon take up the battle.” They say, “We are ready to hand the struggle over to the next generation.”
Sometimes they are concerned that the young ones are not prepared to fight, that they have become apathetic. Sometimes they fear that supportive elements of the larger society will grow weary of our efforts to find justice in our own land.
But we have stood within the circle of healing. I have seen a microcosm of all nations standing together. I have seen them gathering under a feather moon rising cardinal over dark waters against a black night. Therefore, I know we are not alone on our journey toward justice, peace, freedom and human dignity.
Many who stood in that circle that night are gone now. But they left us with instructions. “Do not forsake the future. Our children rely on you to continue our good fight for a better world. Not only is it too soon to quit… it is also too late.”
Some of you are thinking, “How can it be too soon and too late at the same time?”
I leave that for you to ponder. But believe me, if you give this question deep consideration you will have secured a universal truth that will serve you well from this day forth.
We are born innocent but over time we may find ourselves entangled in the mesh of social and behavioral disorders. These influence our path and determine our destination. But a timely word in a waiting ear can set us free.
When I was 19 years old a Lakota elder named Charlie Stryker told me something that set me free and changed my life.
“We enter the world with two companions. One urges us to do good, the other to do what is bad. These tendencies are like hungry dogs. Remember this, my girl. The dog you feed is the one that grows strong.”
Charlie gave me a universal truth that day. It continues to influence my path and determine my destination.
I guess all I really did during the Fish War was try to feed the right dog. Today and tomorrow I will continue to perform this small but meaningful ritual. That is how you help change the world. You keep planting seeds, the sky sends the rain and earth gives the increase. You scatter good seeds of worthy ideals on fertile ground and wait for an abundant harvest. Of course, there is the possibility that you will not live to see the results of your efforts.
Several years ago my grandson Brandon and I planted a small community of red cedar. Afterwards I told him I probably would not live to see them grown.
“I’ll come and check on them,” he promised. “I’ll remember how we did this together.”
However, he was murdered when he was 17 so I return alone to appraise their growth. Those trees are already much taller than I and still growing.
Bye-bye now. Don’t forget to feed the dog.

Anne Dunn at right, with daughter Annie and grandson Justice Oct 94

Anne Dunn at right, with daughter Annie and grandson Justice Oct 94


* – The “Fish War” to which Anne refers was a contest over Treaty Rights to fish in MN Mille Lacs Lake. Here is a copy of the Treaty as reprinted in the April Minneapolis Star Tribune: 1837 Chippewa Treaty001.