Location of 28 Mass Graves at Residential Schools in Canada: Published in 2008

Residential Schools in Canada

Mass Graves at former Indian Residential Schools and Hospitals across Canada

By Hidden from History 

Published at Atlantic Free Press

Contributed by Brenda Norrell

April 15, 2008

Updated on Censored News January 2023

Trigger warning for content. This list of 28 mass graves of Native children who died of starvation, disease, torture, and murder, at residential schools in Canada was published in 2008. 

The information was published by Hidden from History from historical data and survivor and eyewitness accounts. The children were stolen from their families by churches and government Indian agents. Parents who hid their children were to be imprisoned, by Canadian law.

Instead of being schools, these were militarized prison facilities where children were incarcerated and subjected routinely to beatings and abuse. -- Censored News.

Children to be asked in ceremony for permission to search for graves. Sept. 2021

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/sudbury/ceremony-residential-schools-ontario-1.6179800

Harriet Nahanee, an eyewitness to the murder of Maise Shaw on Dec. 24, 1946, at the Alberni School (1995.) Harriet, one of the first to speak out publicly, died of pneumonia and lung cancer after being jailed for activism to protect the environment in 2007.

A. British Columbia

1. Port Alberni:

Presbyterian-United Church school (1895-1973), now occupied by the
Nuu-Chah-Nulth Tribal Council (NTC) office, Kitskuksis Road . Gravesite is a series of sinkhole rows in hills 100 metres due west of the NTC building, in thick foliage, past an unused water pipeline. Children also interred at Tseshaht reserve cemetery, and in wooded gully east of Catholic cemetery on River Road.

Murder at the Alberni and Ahousat United Church Schools
Stanley Sam, an eyewitness to the beating death of Albert Gray in Nov. 1938 
at the Ahousat school (1996)

2. Alert Bay :

St. Michael’s Anglican school (1878-1975), situated on Cormorant Island offshore from Port McNeill. Presently the building is used by Namgis First Nation. The site is an overgrown field adjacent to the building, and also under the foundations of the present new building, constructed during the 1960s. Skeletons seen “between the walls”.

Murder at the Kuper Island Catholic School
Former Kuper Island student Bill Seward, whose sister Margaret
was "thrown from a third-story window by a nun" and died.

3. Kuper Island: Catholic school

(1890-1975), offshore from Chemainus. The land occupied by Penelakut Band. The former building is destroyed except for a staircase. Two grave sites:  one immediately south of the former building, in a field containing a conventional cemetery; another at the west shoreline in a lagoon near the main dock.

Update July 13, 2021: 160 graves found at Kuper Island:

https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2021/jul/13/canada-unmarked-graves-british-columbia-residential-school

4. Nanaimo Indian Hospital:  Indian Affairs and United Church experimental facility (1942-1970) on Department of National Defense land. Buildings now destroyed. Gravesites are immediately east of former buildings on Fifth Avenue, adjacent to and south of Malaspina College.

Updates Nanaimo, Sept. 2021

https://www.cheknews.ca/snuneymuxw-first-nation-to-search-for-unmarked-graves-at-former-nanaimo-indian-hospital-site-883557/

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/fundraiser-vancouver-island-1.6176067

5. Mission: St. Mary’s Catholic school (1861-1984), adjacent to and north of Lougheed Highway and Fraser River Heritage Park. Original school buildings are destroyed, but many foundations are visible on the grounds of the Park.

In this area there are two gravesites: a) immediately adjacent to former girls’ dormitory and present cemetery for priests, and a larger mass grave in an artificial earthen mound, north of the cemetery among overgrown foliage and blackberry bushes, and b) east of the old school grounds, on the hilly slopes next to the field leading to the newer school building which is presently used by the Sto:lo First Nation. Hill site is 150 metres west of the building.

6. North Vancouver: Squamish (1898-1959) and Sechelt (1912-1975) Catholic schools, buildings destroyed. Graves of children who died in these schools interred in the Squamish Band Cemetery, North Vancouver.

7. Sardis: Coqualeetza Methodist-United Church school (1889-1940), then experimental hospital run by the federal government (1940-1969). Native burial site next to Sto:lo reserve and Little Mountain school, also possibly adjacent to the former school-hospital building.

8. Cranbrook: St. Eugene Catholic school (1898-1970), recently converted into a tourist “resort” with federal funding, resulting in the covering-over of a mass burial site by a golf course in front of the building. Numerous gravesites are around and under this golf course.

Update June 30, 2021: 128 Unmarked graves located at St. Eugene School. Survivor describes abuse endured by children.

https://bsnorrell.blogspot.com/2021/06/cbc-182-unmarked-graves-discovered-near.html

9. Williams Lake: Catholic school (1890-1981), buildings destroyed but foundations intact, five miles south of city. Gravesites reported north of school grounds and under foundations of the tunnel-like structure.

Update January 2023: More graves found: Babies burned in incinerators after sexual abuse

https://ca.news.yahoo.com/williams-lake-first-nation-releasing-090000180.html

10. Meares Island (Tofino): Kakawis-Christie Catholic school (1898-1974). Buildings incorporated into Kakawis Healing Centre. Body storage room reported in the basement, adjacent to burial grounds south of the school.

11. Kamloops : Catholic school (1890-1978). Buildings are intact. Mass grave south of the school, adjacent to and amidst orchard. Numerous burials witnessed there.

Update June 2021: 215 remains located in mass grave at Kamloops.

Survivor said Kamloops was a labor camp, with sexual abuse of students by school staff at night. Radio interview KPFA 2021.

https://bsnorrell.blogspot.com/2021/06/aim-west-kpfa-radio-percy-casper.html

12. Lytton: St. George’s Anglican school (1901-1979). Graves of students flogged to death, and others, reported under floorboards and next to the playground.

13. Fraser Lake: Lejac Catholic school

(1910-1976), buildings destroyed. Graves reported under old foundations and between the walls.

Sterilizations, abortions and medical experiments

United Church Sterilization Centre, Bella Bella BC
W.R. Large Memorial Hospital site of sterilizations and medical 
experiments between at least 1923 and 1969.

Alberta:

1. Edmonton: United Church school (1919-1960), present site of the Poundmaker Lodge in St. Albert . Graves of children reported south of former school site, under the thick hedge that runs north-south, adjacent to memorial marker.

2. Edmonton: Charles Camsell Hospital (1945-1967), building intact, an experimental hospital run by Indian Affairs and United Church. Mass graves of children from the hospital reported south of the building, near staff garden.

Update Edmonton Hospital, Aug. 7, 2021

https://edmontonjournal.com/news/local-news/search-for-unmarked-graves-at-former-edmonton-hospital-site-to-continue-this-month-after-first-survey-leaves-questions-unanswered

3. Saddle Lake: Blue Quills Catholic school (1898-1970), building intact, skeletons and skulls observed in the basement furnace. Mass grave reported adjacent to the school.

Update: Genocide at Blue Quills at Saddle Lake, Jan. 2023

Children murdered by pushing them down stairs and feeding them raw poisonous milk.

https://bsnorrell.blogspot.com/2023/01/genocide-at-blue-quills-school-at.html

4. Hobbema: Ermineskin Catholic school (1916-1973), five intact skeletons observed in school furnace. Graves under former building foundations.

Update March 4, 2022

169 graves located at Grouard Mission site, Kapawe'no:

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/edmonton/potential-graves-grouard-mission-kapawe-no-first-nation-1.6368924

Manitoba:

1. Brandon: Methodist-United Church school (1895-1972). Building intact. Burials reported west of the school building. 2. Portage La Prairie: Presbyterian-United Church school (1895-1950). Children buried at nearby Hillside Cemetery.

3. Norway House:

Methodist-United Church school (1900-1974). “Very old” gravesite next to the former school building, demolished by United Church in 2004.

Ontario:

1. Thunder Bay: Lakehead Psychiatric Hospital, still in operation. Experimental centre. Women and children reported buried adjacent to hospital grounds.

.

St Anne’s Indian Residential School in Fort Albany. In the basement was an electric chair that was used to terrorize children. Many of the survivors are still trying to access their records in order to settle their case. ⁦

The Pope these records. (2022 update)

2. Sioux Lookout: Pelican Lake Catholic school (1911-1973). Burials of children in the mound near to the school. 3. Kenora: Cecilia Jeffrey school, Presbyterian-United Church (1900-1966). Large burial mound east of the former school. 4. Fort Albany: St. Anne’s Catholic school (1936-1964). Children killed in electric chair buried next to the school. 5. Spanish: Catholic school (1883-1965). Numerous graves.

6. Brantford: Mohawk Institute, Anglican church (1850-1969), building intact. Series of graves in the orchard behind the school building, under rows of trees.

7. Sault Ste. Marie: Shingwauk Anglican school (1873-1969), some intact buildings. Several graves of children reported on grounds of the old school.

Update: Document shows children buried at Shingwauk, their age and cause of death. 'The Shingwauk Files,' by Censored News, June 2021. https://bsnorrell.blogspot.com/2021/06/the-shingwauk-files-search-begins-for.html

Quebec:

1. Montreal: Allan Memorial Institute, McGill University, still in operation since opening in 1940. MKULTRA experimental centre. Mass grave of children killed there north of the building, on southern slopes of Mount Royal behind the stone wall.

Residential school survivors used in medical experiments filed lawsuits.

https://bbs.boingboing.net/t/indigenous-canadians-sue-the-canadian-government-over-decades-of-secret-involuntary-inhumane-medical-experiments/120695

Hidden from History "Forced Abortions and Secret Burials - Port Alberni BC
-Catholic cemetery west of Port Alberni, across from the Alberni residential school, where children were buried in secret."

Hidden from History: "Forced Abortions and Secret Burials - Port Alberni BC
West Coast General Hospital, where forced abortions were performed on native students made pregnant by Alberni residential school staff, and where dead bodies from the school were stored under false death certificates."
http://canadiangenocide.nativeweb.org/

Saskatchewan

Update 2021: 

751 unmarked graves found at Cowessess First Nation residential school in Saskatchewan.

https://bsnorrell.blogspot.com/2021/06/saskatchewan-751-unmarked-graves-found.html

Update January 2023:

Star Blanket Cree Nation, Qu'Appelle Indian Residential School

An indigenous nation in Canada said it has discovered evidence of possible unmarked graves on the grounds of a former residential school.

Star Blanket Cree Nation said a ground-penetrating radar had revealed the jawbone fragment of a small child and more than 2,000 "areas of interest".

Areas for this most recent search were identified after testimonials from elders and former students of the former Qu'Appelle Indian Residential School.

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-64225855

Sources of list published in 2008 :

- Eyewitness accounts from survivors of these institutions, cataloged in Hidden from History: The Canadian Holocaust (2nd ed., 2005) by Kevin Annett. Other accounts are from local residents. See www.hiddenfromhistory.org

Documents and other material from the Department of Indian Affairs RG

10 microfilm series on Indian Residential Schools in Koerner Library, University of B.C.

- Survey data and physical evidence obtained from gravesites in Port Alberni, Mission, and other locations.

This is a partial list and does not include all of the gravesites connected to Indian residential schools and hospitals across Canada. In many cases, children who were dying of diseases were sent home to die by school and church officials, and the remains of other children who died at the school were incinerated in the residential school furnaces.

This information is submitted by The Friends and Relatives of the Disappeared (FRD) to the world media, the United Nations, and to the International Human Rights Tribunal into Genocide in Canada (IHRTGC). The IHRTGC will commence its investigations on

April 15, 2008, on Squamish Nation territory.

For more information on the independent inquiry into genocide in Canada being conducted by the IHRTGC, write to: genocidetribunal@yahoo.ca

10 April 2008
Squamish Nation Territory (“Vancouver, Canada”)

http://atlanticfreepress.com Powered by Joomla! Generated: 15 April, 2008, 15:34

The Shingwauk Files: Search Begins for Documents of Residential School Death Camps

The Shingwauk residential school dining hall circa 1890. (Children of Shingwauk Alumni Association/The Shingwauk Project)

 

The Shingwauk Files: Search Begins for Documents of Residential School Death Camps 

Across Canada, Native children were stolen from their families by the churches and government Indian Agents. Parents who hid their children were sentenced to jail. Native children died of starvation, disease, abuse, torture, medical experiments, and murder by church staff in these residential schools. Now, there is documentation of unmarked graves and mass graves that document the genocide. There are new demands for trials of those responsible like the Nuremberg trials.

Brenda Norrell
Censored News

Residential school survivors and their families in Canada are now identifying those responsible for the abuse, torture and murder of Native children in residential schools, in order to hold them responsible for genocide.

Mohawk Nation News said, "Each unmarked grave is a separate crime scene and criminal investigation. We know who did the crime. We want to know the specifics of the individuals involved, just like the Nuremberg trials."

Among the files now being examined are those of Shingwauk Residential School, an Anglican Church-run school in Sault Ste. Marie, in Ontario near the border of Canada and the United States. There are 110 children and staff buried in the cemetery. The students who died here, whose names are known, are shown below in memory.

Uranium leave it in the ground! Global online launch of first Uranium Atlas with Western Shoshone, Navajo and more

The first atomic bomb blast in July 16, 1945 in Alamogordo, New Mexico,

The international guests participating in this event are: Makoma Lekalakala (Earthlife Africa, South Africa), Ian Zabarte (Western Shoshone Nation, USA), Sascha Hach (Nuclear Free Future Foundation, Germany) and Anna Rondon (New Mexico Social Justice and Equity Institute, Navajo Nation, USA). There will be additional recorded statements from Tina Cordova (Trinity Downwinders, USA) and Larry King (Navajo Nation, USA).

Leave uranium in the ground!

Global Online Launch of the first Uranium Atlas

Watch online at 1 pm Eastern time, July 16, 2020.

The Uranium Atlas tells the global story of uranium through maps, graphics and narratives covering every phase of the uranium fuel chain. The raw material of the Atomic Age was or is mostly mined in African countries, Australia, Kazakhstan and Canada, and the consequences for the inhabitants of these mining areas have been fatal from the very beginning. The victims of global nuclear colonialism are mostly Indigenous peoples whose voices remain unheard.

July 16 is seared in the memory of New Mexicans: On July 16, 1945, at 5:30 in the morning, scientists from Los Alamos detonated Trinity, the first atomic bomb, in the White Sands desert. On July 16, 1979, at 5:30 in the morning, the tailings dam of the Church Rock uranium mill broke, contaminating the drinking water of the Diné (Navajo) people.

We dedicate the launch of the Uranium Atlas to all the victims of July 16.

Stolen Generations: The Native Children Who Never Came Home

By Brenda Norrell

Censored News

CARLISLE, Penn. -- Lakota Nick Estes writes in a new article about the generations of Indian children stolen by the United States. Many of those children never came home. They died of starvation, pneumonia, beatings and other abuse. Across North America, Australia and New Zealand, Indigenous children were routinely stolen and forced into residential schools where many died.

In Estes' article, 'The U.S. Stole Generations of Indian Children to Open the West,' at High Country News, he writes, "Nearly 200 Native children lie buried at the entrance of the Carlisle Barracks in the “Indian Cemetery” — the first thing you see when entering one of the United States’ oldest military installations. It is a grisly monument to the country’s most infamous boarding school, the Carlisle Indian Industrial School, which opened in 1879 in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, and closed in 1918. Chiseled onto the white granite headstones, arranged in the uniform rows typical of veterans’ cemeteries in the U.S., are the names and tribal affiliations of children who came to Carlisle but never left. Thirteen gravestones list neither name nor tribe; they simply read 'UNKNOWN.'”
Read more here.

Today. President Trump and those who follow his orders are responsible for the incarceration of children in migrant prisons, where they are starved, sexually abused, drugged and beaten. Numerous have died while others suffer without medicine and treatment. Separated from their families, they languish in hopeless jail cells, while other stolen migrant children have been adopted in illegal acts. Many of these children are Indigenous from Mexico and Central America. The abuse and theft of children have been well documented by the media and members of the U.S. Congress.

It is time for Nuremberg style trials, which will prosecute Trump and all those who carried out his orders in the theft, incarceration and abuse of migrant children, as was done with those who followed Hitler's orders.

Estes writes, "Although Luther Standing Bear eventually returned to his home at the Rosebud Agency, many of his peers didn’t. 'The change in clothing, housing, food, and confinement combined with lonesomeness,' Standing Bear reasoned, “was too much.” He estimated that in the first three years at Carlisle, nearly half the Lakota children of his class died. 'In the graveyard at Carlisle most of the graves are those of little ones,' he lamented."

On the Longest Walk 2008, I photographed the cemetery at Carlisle Indian School to share with the families of the Children Who Never Came Home. At Carlisle, there were 10,000 Indian children in the boarding school between 1879 and 1918. There are 186 graves that are marked with a tombstone. An unknown number of children were buried without markers. Many of those who died were Lakotas, Cheyenne and Apache, known as fierce fighters, who no doubt fought for their freedom and justice. The children were stolen from all across the United States.

In the cemetery, names remember the children of Carlisle. Fanny Charging Shield, Sioux, died March 7, 1892; Susia Nach Kea, Apache, died May 14, 1889; Godfrey Blatcha, Apache, died July 1890; Cooking Look, Alaskan, died Jan. 4, 1904; Alice Springer, Omaha, died Nov. 12, 1883; Henry Jones, Iowa, died March 20, 1880; Nannie Little Rose, Cheyenne; Albert Henderson; Giles Hands, died May, 1881, Cheyenne; Maul, daughter of Chief Swift Bear, Sioux, died Dec. 1880; Ernest, son of Chief White Thunder, Sioux, died Dec. 14, 1880; Isabel Kelcusay, Apache, died on Christmas day, Dec. 25, 1884; Pedro Sanchez, Apache, died in May of 1885; Frank Cushing, Pueblo, died July 22, 1881; William Sammers, Cheyenne, died May 21, 1888, Corine Simohtie, Apache, died Feb. 11, 1886; Sibyl Mapko, Apache; Kate Rosskidwitts, Witchita, died Jan. 10, 1882, John Bytzolay and all the others.


Read more here.

What if there was never a Snowden or Wikileaks. We would have never known ...

By Brenda Norrell
Censored News

What if there had never been a Snowden or Wikileaks, or any of the whistleblowers?

I would have never known that Google, Facebook, my android phone and the others are all part of the massive spy network of the U.S., U.K. and others. I would have never known to cover my phone and computer camera lens with colored tape, and to take the battery out of my phone at times -- because it is a tracker, and can be turned on remotely as a listening and viewing device.

Flagstaff Action -- Sheriff Criminalizing Migrant Families -- Sept. 18, 2018

.

Community Responds to Driscoll’s

Criminalization and Separation of Migrant Families

Sheriff Driscoll continues to cooperate with ICE by choice, after lawsuit determines no obligation

What: Day of Action to Expose Sheriff Driscoll, Donald Trump, and Jeff Sessions’s Criminalization Tactics toward Migrant Communities
Who: Repeal Coalition, Flagstaff Community Coalition, Migrant Communities and Allies

When:  Tuesday, September 18, 2018; 5:00PM - 7:00 PM

Where:  City Hall Lawn, Flagstaff, Arizona

Flagstaff, Arizona --  Images of children in prisons at the border and stories of family separation by ICE and Border Patrol agents have become nationwide news in recent months. However, these cases of injustice are not isolated to only the border region; they happen within the city limits of Flagstaff, Arizona. Family separation occurs when our Coconino County Sheriff, Jim Driscoll, collaborates with ICE officials. Even though a recent court ruling declared that Driscoll has no obligation to work with ICE, he is actively choosing to partake in separating immigrant families in our community. Driscoll has a choice, and he is choosing to stand on the side of racist policies and racial profiling. We demand that Driscoll stop facilitating the deportation of Flagstaff community members, and that our city and county officials adopt policies and practices that keep families free and together. We call upon these officials to provide transparency regarding their relationships with ICE and the deportation process, and to open avenues for the public to help create policies that do not racially profile, separate families, or require immigrants to endure a double-punishment system. Every person has the right to live, love and work freely wherever they please.

#ICEoutofflagstaff #ICEfueradeflagstaff #Driscollhasachoice #abolishICEAZ

Join us Tuesday, September 18th at 5:00 p.m. at Flagstaff City Hall as the community rallies to demand the end to Sheriff Driscoll’s cooperation with ICE and FPD’s complicity with ICE, and demand that our City Council and County officials protect our community.

###

www.facebook.com/RepealCoalitionAZ

Repeal Coalition is a community collective that firmly believes every human being

deserves a right to live, love and work wherever and whomever they please.
Our work is done with, not for, the communities directly affected by unjust policies.

https://www.facebook.com/FlagstaffFreedomCity

Flagstaff Community Coalition is a coalition of community members from 

various organizations and communities in Northern Arizona working to cultivate 

an intersectional freedom city/sanctuary city movement in Flagstaff.

---

Frankie Beesley

Field Organizer, Puente Arizona 

Organizer, Repeal Coalition Arizona 

franks.beesley1104@gmail.com

U.S. lost 1,500 migrant children, repeating horror of stolen Native American children

Vice.com "Trump's inhumane border policies are tearing families apart and traumatizing children."
https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/43539q/what-separating-migrant-families-at-the-border-actually-looks-like

U.S. lost 1,500 migrant children, repeating horror of stolen Native American children

Article by Brenda Norrell
Censored News

The New York Times reports that the Department of Health and Human Services told members of Congress on Thursday that the agency "had lost track of nearly 1,500 migrant children it placed with sponsors in the United States, raising concerns they could end up in the hands of human traffickers or be used as laborers by people posing as relatives."
Native Americans point out that this horrific abuse follows the pattern of the United States stealing Native children.
Linda Black Elk said, "Native people know what it is like to have their children stolen. Thousands of Native children were taken to boarding schools and never heard from again. Many of them now lay in unmarked graves outside the walls of Carlisle, Anadarko, Cantonment, Chilocco, and so many other institutions. Imagine the babies who were stolen off their streets and taken thousands of miles away, where they contracted severe illnesses or were abused to the point of death. "What were they thinking as they were dying? "Were they wondering where their parents were?
"Is that what happened to the 1,500 Indigenous immigrant children that were 'lost' by the United States government? What kinds of horrors did they experience at the hands of sex traffickers, rapists, pedophiles, and abusers? How many of them cried for their mothers? "How many of them are still alive?
"Why is this still happening?" asks Black Elk, who is well remembered at Standing Rock Water Protectors Healing and Medic Tent and continues to share knowledge about healing plants.
Standing Rock Water Protectors point out that even the metal cages imprisoning migrant children, shown above, are the same inhumane, degrading cages Native Americans were imprisoned in at Standing Rock, when they were arrested praying for the water, as Dakota Access Pipeline tore through their ancestral lands.
New York Times reports that Steven Wagner, the acting assistant secretary of the agency’s Administration for Children and Families, disclosed during testimony before a Senate homeland security subcommittee that the agency had learned of the missing children after placing calls to the people who took responsibility for them when they were released from government custody.

"The children were taken into government care after they showed up alone at the Southwest border. Most of the children are from Honduras, El Salvador and Guatemala, and were fleeing drug cartels, gang violence and domestic abuse, government data shows."

The Trump administration is now seizing migrants children at the border.

The Washington Post reports that this is torture.

"In two speeches last week in the border states of Arizona and California, Attorney General Jeff Sessions announced that as a matter of enforcement, if an unauthorized migrant brings a child across the United States-Mexico border without documentation, “we will prosecute you, and that child will be separated from you as required by law. If you don’t like that, then don’t smuggle children over our border.," writes Jaana Juvonen and Jennifer Silvers.

Read article: 'Separating children from their parents is not just cruel. It is torture.'
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/posteverything/wp/2018/05/15/separating-children-from-parents-at-the-border-isnt-just-cruel-its-torture/?utm_term=.1e4b1c80394b

The horrific testimony exposing the United States reckless handking of migrant children came one day after a Mayan woman hiding in the bushes was shot in the head and executed by the U.S. Border Patrol on the Texas border.

The Guardian reports, "A Guatemalan woman shot dead by a border patrol agent in Texas has been named as Claudia Patricia Gómez Gonzáles by local media outlets which reported that she travelled to the US in the hope of finding work to pay for her education.

"Gómez, a 20-year-old Maya-Mam indigenous woman, died on Wednesday after she was shot in the head by an agent in the border town Rio Bravo,Texas.

Read Claudia's story, say her name:

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2018/may/25/woman-shot-dead-border-patrol-rio-bravo-texas-identified?CMP=fb_us

                                                                     Migrant Children

New York Times article:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/04/26/us/politics/migrant-children-missing.html

Notes:

The snakes on the border have been profiting from migrant misery for a long time. The buses to transport detainees on the Arizona border were operated by Wackenhut, who also had a security contract for Peabody Coal on Big Mountain. Wackenhut split into two companies for maximum profiteering from misery and abuse. Wackenhut Transportation was acquired by G4S in London, and GEO became one of the notorious private prison contractors in the Southwest. The Israeli defense contractor carrying out Apartheid in Palestine, Elbit Systems, was given the U.S. contract for the spy towers, integrated fixed towers, now targeting traditional communities on the Tohono O'odham Nation. G4S in London still has the transporation contract. 
.

Photo Wackenhut bus, with US Border contact, waiting to load up migrants on the Arizona border, next to Tohono O'odham Nation at Three Points. Photo copyright Brenda Norrell 2007.

On this same day, when temperatures were over 112, and we had no air conditioning, we drove around the border, and documented the US Border Patrol agents sitting in their air conditioned vehicles, talking on their cell phones most of the time, throwing their Starbucks cups on the ground, spending a lot of time at the Three Points store buying snacks, and driving too fast in the fragile desert tearing up the earth. We also saw some frightening men in regular clothes with out-of-state licenses with hunting rifles patrolling the border on a migrant trail near Arivaca. We photographed the first set of spy towers, which did not work, Border Patrol says, and that was a billion dollar boondoggle, money in the pockets of Boeing. The bus, operated by the snakes, was lurking there at the Three Points store.

Leonard Peltier's Written Statement to Boarding School Tribunal

BOARDING SCHOOL STATEMENT BY LEONARD PELTIER TO BE READ INTO THE RECORD SPECIFICALLY FOR THE BLUE SKIES FOUNDATION TRIBUNAL HELD IN ONEIDA WISCONSIN ON  OCTOBER 22-25, 2014

By Leonard Peltier

Censored News

Dutch translation by Alice Holemans

French translation by Christine Prat

In the fall of 1953 I was living with my widowed Grand mother Mary Dubois Peltier (originally from Canada), my sister Betty Ann and cousin Pauline Peltier.  I was 9 yrs. old  Betty and Pauline 6 years old. We lived in a log cabin made into two rooms on what was known as the highest hill on the rez.  Grandpa (Alex O. Peltier) built it in the late 40's. Grandpa had just passed from pneumonia around Nov or Dec, 1953. We were living on the Turtle Mountain Little Shell Band of Native Nations in Belcourt, North Dakota.

On this particular fall September day, I was outside playing, waiting for breakfast. I could see coming down the road a few miles from our place this huge cloud of dust that could only be made  from a high speeding car. I knew the only people who had cars that went that fast was the B.I. A. I knew that I was supposed to run into the woods and hide, this was normal and  as children, we were taught this from an early age. If we didn't hide, the government would steal us and we may never be returned. I was curious and wanted to see where this car was going so fast. I watched as if in a trance and  hypnotically  watched as this car drove right  up into our dirt drive way. This white man got out and started to talk with our grandma.

Unknown to him, grandma could speak very little English and was having a difficult time understanding him.  I also could not speak good English and had a hard time understanding him, but I heard the words boarding school. Those are words all Native children knew, and would  become terrified at hearing them spoken. I became scared. I wanted to run and flee into the woods to hide but I did not want to leave my grandma, sister and cousin.  All I wanted to do now was to start crying and screaming to leave us alone. I could see that this man was getting frustrated and angry as hell because grandma was not understanding everything he was saying. I was now afraid he would hurt them.

Grandma was telling me, "Leonard, run and hide” ( in midcef, a French and Chippewa Language Native people created).  But I felt as if I was hypnotized. I could not move and stood frozen in place. Finally, grandma understood that she could be taken to jail.  As she cried, she told us we had to go with this man or he would take her to jail and take us anyway. Betty and Pauline started to scream and cry, which made chills run up and down the back of my neck. Grandma kept saying to me that I had to be strong, to be a man and take care of my sister and cousin.  She said, "Don’t let them see you crying, or they will punish you." BUT I didn't want to be a man.  I wanted to cry for help. I have not let them see me cry since, even when my supporters had them give me a bedside phone call in prison when my father passed.

We were being  driven at a very high speed and I could see nothing but a large cloud of dust through the rear window, on our way to Belcourt, our main community on the REZ. In the Belcourt school yard, we could see school’s late 1940's or 1950's yellow buses lined up. Poor Betty and Pauline was still crying and making pitiful baby sounds. To this day, I cannot forget those cries. I tried everything to make them stop crying  They were so young, I believe today they couldn't stop if they wanted too. The fear on their faces is an image that I have tried to  forget but still haunts me all of these years. I tried to explain to them that they had to pay attention because what if we could escape. WE NEEDED TO KNOW WHICH WAY TO GO TO GET HOME. THAT IS All I COULD THINK OF ESCAPING from THESE people WHO captured us, we did not know if we were going to jail or what, as no one explained anything to us, except we were going to a boarding school.  We were taught to run from them and into the woods, or when our elders wanted to scare us into being good, they would threaten to take us to what had to be to us, a monster, an Indian boarding school, that was all I could think about for the next 250-300 miles. I just didn't know how i was going to protect my sister and cousin.

IT seemed as if we had  traveled all day.  I remember we had one stop to use the bathrooms at a Roadside rest stop. In those days, they were all out-houses. Betty and Pauline would not budge from their seats so I had to beg them to go to the bathroom. They gave us a sandwich to eat but the girls  would not eat so I put the sandwiches in my pockets, just in case we escaped. I found out later they would not eat UNTIL THE FOLLOWING DAY AND THAT WAS ONLY AFTER THEY SAW ME IN The DINNING HALL.

Betty tells me she doesn't remember all of that. I guess that was one memory she never wanted to remember. Who would?  I know I have tried to forget them memories all of my life. Pauline never fully recovered. She was put in a  mental institution in Grafton, North Dakota  for a number of years, until the laws in the late 60's and 70's  became more liberal and she was released. They claim she fell off the cement steps at the boarding school  and had a mild brain damage. I went to visit her once and could not stand what I saw. I could never go back. I regret that now, and will until my death. I grew up wondering what crime we had committed, except to be told we were just Indians.  We arrived a few hours later at Wahpeton Indian school in Wahpeton North Dakota.  I would say the time was around 2-3 pm. We were all told to line up and they started to arrange us in age and school grades. I did not know what grade I was in, so when  the kid next to me said 3rd, I said yes, third grade.

We were all lined up in rank and file, age and height and made to stand in formation like a reformatory school.  We were then marched to what came to be known as Center Hall. They had east side and west side rooms, all in the basement. On the east side was the laundry, barber shop, clothing issue and shower rooms. The west side was recreation rooms for the winter months, and for when it was too cold/raining to go outside.

We were then told to line up before the barber shop chairs and each one of us had our hair cut off and into a military buzz cut. All of a sudden, we all looked different and did not recognize the kids we made friends with. The younger ones began to cry again, us older ones, well, who we now believed were the older ones, tried to make them stop and even gave them hugs to be assured they was still with their friends.  One little guy Macloud held on to me with all his might, and became assigned to me to wash, to make sure he got up in the mornings and was in bed at 9:00 pm every night, got to chow, make our beds, which I  did not know how myself but was taught by older kids how to put military folds on the foot ends. The boys and girls all ate in the same dining hall.

We then went to the shower room but before we got in line they poured DDT all over us to kill any lice.  It burned like hell.  Again the younger ones begin to cry. As it got to our turn to go into the shower, since the little guy was hanging onto me,  I was told I would have to wash him and was instructed how to use the (what I learned later the same type of soap and brush's used to scrub our cement floors)  soap and brush to scrub behind out heels and forearms, elbows and private parts with a wash cloth. Vaseline would be applied to our forearm's, elbows and heels of our feet and with a white towel they would rub those areas and if any dead shin came off, those of us responsible to wash someone would be struck with the thick school ruler. The matron would be doing the hitting. Some of the older kids refused to hit any little ones.They were called the trouble makers, we called them the resisters THE WARRIORS!! The others who would beat the little ones, we called the B.I.A Indians, the sell outs, white mans Indians.  We had a lot of names for them.

At this first shower, I got my first taste of this ruler, because the little guy started to cry when I scrubbed/washed  him to hard and they found dead shin on the back of his heels. So I quickly joined up with the resisters and hated the matrons and tattletales.

We then went to the laundry section and were issued bib coveralls like farmers used to wear, along with brown work shoes.  We were given bed assignment and it was time to eat super/dinner. We were all hungry as hell.  I could not wait as I was told I would be able to see Betty and Pauline again.

Earlier I was called and taken to the girls dormitory and told I had to make Betty and Pauline stop crying.  I explained to them that I could not stay but I was just right next door and if they did not stop crying they would punish me more. I showed them what they did to my hair and the still visible red marks on my back. I said, “please, don’t cry any more. I'm not going to leave you.  Please.  We are going to eat soon so I will see you at dinner time."

When we went to chow I saw Betty and Pauline sitting at their assigned table with their heads down.  Every once in a while Betty would look up, looking for me. She finally saw me and started to yell to Pauline, "There's Leonard,” waving excitedly!  I smiled  and signaled to them to eat, so they begin to eat. I don't remember them ever crying for me again.

The first time I was able to meet with them alone in the school yard, I told them that we had to grow up and be strong so that we could  escape. It WAS ALMOST 2 YEARS BEFORE I TRIED TO MAKE MY FIRST GET AWAY AND ALMOST DROWNED in the Red River. It was the spring of the year, and my cousin Daniel Peltier told me he wanted to go home and asked if I run away with him.  The weather was warming up, BUT I longed for my home and also was lonesome for grandma as she was the only mother I had known or could remember, I told him I could not leave my sister and cousin  Pauline.  They would miss me, and start to cry again, but Danny was persistent so I agreed. With no money or change of clothes, certainly nothing to eat, we took off not knowing which was the right direction we had to go. We just took off and as we got what we thought was a long ways away, we laughed, cheered and danced around to our new found freedom.  Then we came to the Red River and we saw that the ice was thin and would be very dangerous to cross.  Since we could not find any place to cross and we knew had to get across, we selected the narrowest place we could find and separated to about 20 feet apart.

I remember being told by other older kids on the Nation how to cross thin ice if I really had too, what to look for, and to listen to the  ice. I told Danny, “Watch the ice, and if it cracks look for the shortest route to the rivers Bank.  If you have to, lay flat on the ice.” So we began to cross. As we got near the bank, Danny made it and started to laugh in joy. I was probably 4-5 feet to the bank and the ice started to crack, and it cracked so loud, I knew it was going to break.  I tried to slide my feet and make myself even lighter than my 90 lbs.  I saw this tree limb from a very young tree hanging over the bank and I went for it. Just as I got there the ice gave and I went completely under the ice cold water.  My hand grabbed the limb and I hung on and pulled myself  back up. when I got my head out of the water grabbed another  limb and pulled myself out, Danny grabbed my hand and pulled, and I got back on land, wet as hell but alive. After a few minutes I started to shiver like crazy as it seemed as if the sun went down and it was growing cold fast. I took all of my clothes off and we rung them out and we wondered how to make a fire as it was growing colder fast.  It was getting dark fast and I was getting cold so we wondered what to do next. Danny said, “Lets go back,” so we thought about it for a second and decided maybe it was for the best and we started to walk in a chosen direction until we came to a road. We walked for a short distance and a car came by and gave us  a life back to the school. We noticed that we had not really gone that far and was sort of ashamed of our attempt to run away.

Now we had to face the music.  We decided to say it was both of our ideas and we were lonesome for our homes as we had not seen our parents or relatives for over 2 years.  But since we broke the rules we still had to receive our punishment  Ten whacks with the ruler on our butts and our hair given another buzz cut and we had to wear over size clothing and shoes so people would know we were runaways.  We also could not go to movies in town for a year. That didn't matter anyway, as we did not have any money to buy 10 cents movie tickets.

I was finally able to get out of Wahpeton after changes were made in Washington D.C. 1956, one rule change was they could no longer keep us there if we had some where to go.  Now they could no longer  hold us there in the summer months, for just minor violations of the rules and so that the employees had a reason for being there and getting  a pay check. If our parents wanted to come and get us, we could go home.  I wrote a letter to my mom, still thinking I was hundreds of miles away, to see if she would come get us. She came as soon as she got the letter, which was just a  couple of days from when I sent it, but she could not take Pauline as she was not her child, which Now came another hard part to this. We had to leave poor Pauline and from we heard she cried for days.  Shortly after, she was put in an institution.

So after 3 years, I was out of boarding school's prison.  I don't how much has changed since my days.  Some say it is no longer like it was in my days, some say it is. I know none of my family/children has ever been put in one of those schools. Yet, I know because some families don't care for their children, some boarding schools are needed. BUT I know my experiences with Wahpeton will be a memory of a hell, I take with me to my death.

I have been a resister to the attempted genocide of my people ever since those days, and for this I will more than likely die in a prison.  On February 6th, 2015, I will have served 40 years in a federal prison, even after the prosecutor said in 1984 in a high court, the government  doesn't know who killed their agents and have no proof against me, because there is none. I was sentenced to 2 life sentences to run consecutively.  When I was indicted a life sentence was 7 years, which means I have served 5 life sentences and 4 years, for resisting genocide against Native people.  I am only guilty of being Indian.

---

Also see:

Written Testimony by imprisoned activist Leonard Peltier. Testimony read into the record by Dorothy Ninham, at the Boarding School Tribunal in Green Bay, Wisconsin, Thursday, Oct. 23, 2014

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KpNSa5vX1qY

Boarding School Tribunal Findings and Recommendations
http://www.bsnorrell.blogspot.com/2015/01/boarding-school-tribunal-releases.html

Govinda of Earthcycles, and Brenda Norrell of Censored News, provided live coverage of the Boarding School Tribunal. Earthcycles provided livestream and video archives, and Censored News provided live print coverage. Both are volunteers and were the only media present at the three-day Boarding School Tribunal on Oneida land in Wisconsin in Oct. 2014.


Please share Censored News link! Click on link and copy and paste from your browser!
http://bsnorrell.blogspot.com/2015/01/leonard-peltiers-written-statement-to.html

French translation by Christine Prat

DECLARATION DE LEONARD PELTIER DESTINEE A ETRE LUE POUR LE DOSSIER DU TRIBUNAL DE LA FONDATION BLUE SKIES, QUI S’EST TENU A ONEIDA, WISCONSIN, DU 22 AU 25 OCTOBRE 2014

Par Leonard Peltier
Publié sur Censored News,
Le 29 janvier 2015
Traduction Christine Prat

A l’automne 1953, je vivais avec ma grand-mère, Mary Dubois Peltier (originaire du Canada), veuve, ma sœur Betty Ann et ma cousine Pauline Peltier. J’avais 9 ans, Betty et Pauline 6 ans. Nous habitions dans une hutte en bois de deux pièces, sur la colline réputée la plus haute de la réserve. Grand-père (Alex O. Peltier) l’avait construite à la fin des années 1940. Grand-père venait de mourir de pneumonie vers novembre ou décembre 1952. Nous vivions dans la bande d’Autochtones du Petit Coquillage de la Montagne de la Tortue, à Belcourt, dans le Dakota du Nord.
En ce jour de septembre, je jouais dehors, en attendant le petit-déjeuner. Je pouvais voir venir d’en bas de la route, à quelques kilomètres, cet énorme nuage de poussière qui semblait provenir d’une voiture très rapide. Je savais que les gens avec des voitures si rapides étaient du Bureau des Affaires Indiennes. Je savais que j’étais supposé courir dans les bois et me cacher, c’était normal et on l’apprenait aux enfants dès leur plus jeune âge. Si nous ne nous cachions pas, le gouvernement nous volerait et nous pourrions ne jamais revenir. J’étais intrigué et voulais voir où cette voiture allait si vite. Je regardais, comme en transe et hypnotisé, je regardais cette voiture rouler tout droit vers notre entrée. Ce type Blanc en descendit et commença à marcher avec notre grand-mère.
Grand-mère ne le connaissait pas, elle parlait très peu d’anglais et avait des difficultés à le comprendre. Je ne parlais pas beaucoup d’anglais non plus et avais aussi des difficultés à le comprendre, mais j’ai entendu le mot pensionnat. Ce mot, tous les enfants Autochtones le connaissaient et étaient terrifiés en l’entendant prononcer. J’ai eu peur. Je voulais m’enfuir dans les bois pour me cacher mais je ne voulais pas laisser ma grand-mère, ma sœur et ma cousine. Tout ce que je voulais, c’était me mettre à pleurer et crier de nous laisser tranquilles. Je voyais l’homme commençant à paraître frustré et terriblement furieux de ce que ma grand-mère ne comprenait pas tout ce qu’il disait. Là, j’avais peur qu’il leur fasse du mal.

Grand-mère me disait « Leonard cours te cacher » (en Midcef, un langage franco-Chippewa créé par les Autochtones). Mais j’étais comme hypnotisé. Je ne pouvais pas bouger, j’étais gelé sur place. Finalement, ma grand-mère comprit qu’elle pouvait être emmenée en prison. En pleurant, elle nous dit que nous devions suivre cet homme, sinon il la mettrait en prison et nous prendrait quand même. Betty et Pauline se mirent à pleurer et à crier, ce qui me fit frissonner du haut en bas. Grand-mère continuait à me dire que je devais être fort, être un homme et prendre soin de ma sœur et ma cousine. Elle dit : « Ne leur fais pas voir que tu pleures, ou ils te puniront ». MAIS je ne voulais pas être un homme. Je voulais appeler au secours. Je ne les ai plus jamais laissé me voir pleurer depuis, même quand mes partisans leur ont demandé de me passer le téléphone, dans mon lit, en prison, quand mon père mourut.

La voiture nous emmenait à toute allure et tout ce que je pouvais voir était un gros nuage de poussière par la vitre arrière, sur le chemin de Belcourt, notre plus grande communauté sur la Réserve. Dans la cour d’école de Belcourt, nous voyions des bus jaunes, de la fin des années 1940, début des années1950, alignés. Les pauvres Betty et Pauline pleuraient toujours, comme de pauvres petits bébés. Aujourd’hui encore, je ne peux pas oublier ces pleurs. J’ai tout essayé pour qu’elles cessent de pleurer. Elles étaient si jeunes, je crois maintenant qu’elles n’auraient pas pu s’arrêter même si elles avaient voulu. La peur sur leurs visages est une image que j’ai essayé d’oublier mais qui me hante toujours après toutes ces années. J’ai essayé de leur expliquer qu’elles devaient faire attention au cas où nous pourrions nous échapper. NOUS DEVIONS SAVOIR QUEL ETAIT LE CHEMIN DE LA MAISON. C’est tout ce à quoi je pouvais penser pour échapper à ces gens qui nous avaient capturés, nous ne savions pas si nous allions en prison ou quoi, vu que personne ne nous expliquait rien, si ce n’est que nous allions dans un pensionnat. Nous avions appris à les fuir et nous cacher dans les bois, sauf quand les anciens voulaient nous faire peur pour nous faire obéir et nous menaçaient de ce qui devait être un monstre pour nous, un pensionnat Indien, et c’est tout ce à quoi je pouvais penser pendant les 400-480 km suivant. Je ne savais absolument pas comment j’allais protéger ma sœur et ma cousine.

Il me semblait que nous avions voyagé toute la journée. Je me souviens que nous nous sommes arrêtés une fois pour aller aux toilettes sur une aire de repos. A cette époque, elles étaient toutes à l’extérieur. Betty et Pauline ne voulaient pas bouger de leurs sièges et j’ai dû les supplier d’aller aux toilettes. Ils nous ont donné un sandwich mais les filles ne mangeaient pas, alors j’ai mis les sandwichs dans mes poches, au cas où nous nous évaderions. Je me suis rendu compte plus tard qu’elles refusaient de manger JUSQU’AU JOUR SUIVANT ET SEULEMENT APRES M’AVOIR VU DANS LA CANTINE.

Betty me dit qu’elle ne souvient pas de tout çà. Je suppose que c’est un souvenir dont elle ne veut pas se rappeler. Qui le voudrait ? Je sais que j’ai essayé d’oublier ces souvenirs-là toute ma vie. Pauline ne s’est jamais vraiment remise. Elle a été placée dans une institution psychiatrique à Grafton, dans le Dakota du Nord, pendant plusieurs années, jusqu’à ce que les lois de la fin des années 1960 et des années 1970 deviennent plus souples et qu’elle soit libérée. Ils ont prétendu qu’elle était tombée des marches en ciment au pensionnat et avait un léger traumatisme au cerveau. Je lui ai rendu visite une fois et n’ai pas pu supporter ce que je voyais. Je n’ai jamais pu y retourner. Je le regrette maintenant et le regretterai jusqu’à ma mort. J’ai grandi en me demandant quel crime nous avions commis, à part nous entendre dire que nous n’étions que des Indiens. Nous sommes arrivés quelques heures plus tard au pensionnat Indien de Wahpeton, dans le Dakota du Nord. Je dirais qu’il était environs 14-15 heures. On nous a dit de tous nous mettre en rang et ils ont commencé à nous classer par âge et par niveaux scolaires. Je ne savais pas dans quelle classe j’étais, donc quand l’enfant à côté m’a dit 3ème [de l’école primaire, CE2 – NdT], j’ai dit oui, 3ème.

Nous étions tous en rang, par âge et par taille et en formation comme dans une maison de redressement. On nous a fait défiler jusqu’à ce que nous ayons appris à connaître le Hall Central. Il y avait des pièces à l’est et à l’ouest, toutes dans le sous-sol. A l’est il y avait la laverie, le coiffeur, la distribution de vêtements et les douches. A l’ouest il y avait les salles de récréation pour l’hiver ou quand il faisait trop froid ou pleuvait trop pour aller dehors.

On nous a dit de nous mettre en rang devant les chaises de coiffeur et nous avons tous eu les cheveux coupés ras, façon militaire. Tout à coup, nous étions différents et ne reconnaissions plus les enfants avec qui nous étions devenus copains. Les plus jeunes se mirent à pleurer, nous les grands, enfin, nous croyons maintenant que nous étions les grands, essayions de les faire cesser et les prenions dans les bras pour les assurer qu’ils étaient toujours avec leurs amis. Un petit appelé Macloud s’est accroché à moi de toutes ses forces et on m’en a rendu responsable pour le faire se laver, m’assurer qu’il se levait le matin et était au lit à 21h tous les soirs, avait à manger, faire nos lits, ce que je ne savais pas faire moi-même, mais des plus grands m’ont appris à plier le bout du lit au carré, façon militaire. Les garçons et les filles mangeaient dans la même cantine.

Quand nous sommes allés aux douches, avant que nous ne nous mettions en rang, ils nous ont arrosés de DDT pour tuer les poux. Çà brûlait terriblement. Là encore, les plus jeunes pleuraient. Quand çà a été notre tour d’entrer dans la douche, comme le petit s’accrochait à moi, on m’a dit qu’il faudrait que je le lave et on m’a appris comment utiliser le savon et la brosse (j’ai appris plus tard que c’était le même genre de savon et de brosse utilisés pour les sols en ciment) pour le frotter derrière les talons, les avant-bras et les coudes et un chiffon pour les parties intimes. On nous mettait de la vaseline sur les avant-bras, les coudes et les talons puis ils nous frottaient ces endroits avec une serviette blanche, et si des peaux mortes se détachaient, ceux d’entre nous qui étaient responsables de quelqu’un étaient frappés avec une lourde règle. C’était le surveillant plus grand qui frappait. Certains grands refusaient de frapper des petits. Ceux-là étaient qualifiés de causeurs de troubles, nous les appelions les résistants, LES GUERRIERS !! Les autres, qui acceptaient de frapper les petits, nous les appelions Indiens du BIA [Bureau des Affaires Indiennes – NdT], les vendus, les Indiens de l’homme blanc. Nous avions beaucoup de noms pour les qualifier.
Lors de cette première douche, j’ai goûté à la règle pour la première fois, parce que le petit se mettait à pleurer quand je le frottais trop fort et ils ont trouvé des peaux mortes derrière ses talons. Alors j’ai vite rejoint les résistants et haï les surveillants et les mouchards.

Puis nous sommes allés à la laverie et avons reçu des tabliers comme ceux qu’utilisaient les fermiers, et des chaussures de travail marron. On nous a attribué des lits et entretemps c’était l’heure du dîner/souper. Nous étions tous affamés. J’étais très impatient quand on m’a dit que je pourrais revoir Betty et Pauline.

Plus tôt, j’avais été appelé dans le dortoir des filles et on m’avait dit que je devais faire cesser Betty et Pauline de pleurer. Je leur ai expliqué que je ne pouvais pas rester mais que j’étais juste à côté et que si elles n’arrêtaient pas de pleurer je serais encore puni. Je leur ai montré ce qu’ils avaient fait à mes cheveux et les marques encore rouges sur mon dos. J’ai dit : « S’il vous plait, ne pleurez plus. Je ne vais pas vous quitter. S’il vous plait. Nous allons bientôt manger et je vous verrai au dîner. »

Quand nous sommes allés bouffer, j’ai vu Betty et Pauline assises à la table qui leur avait été assignée, penchant leurs têtes. De temps en temps, Betty relevait la sienne, me cherchant. Elle finit par me voir et hurla à Pauline : « Leonard est là-bas » en faisant des signes de la main, très excitée ! Je souris et leur fit signe de manger, alors elles ont commencé à manger. Je ne me souviens pas qu’elles aient jamais pleuré pour moi depuis.

La première fois que j’ai pu les rencontrer seules dans la cour, je leur ai dit que nous devions grandir et être forts pour pouvoir nous échapper. IL A FALLU AU MOINS 2 ANS AVANT QUE JE FASSE MA PREMIERE TENTATIVE D’EVASION ET MANQUE DE ME NOYER dans la Red River. C’était le printemps et mon cousin Daniel Peltier me dit qu’il voulait rentrer à la maison et me demanda si je voulais m’enfuir avec lui. Le temps se réchauffait, MAIS, si la maison me manquait et aussi grand-mère, vu qu’elle était la seule mère que j’avais connu ou pouvais me rappeler, je lui dis que je ne pouvais pas partir sans ma sœur et la cousine Pauline. Je leur manquerais et elles recommenceraient à pleurer, mais Danny a insisté et j’ai accepté. Sans argent et sans vêtements de rechange, et surtout sans nourriture, nous sommes partis sans savoir quelle était la bonne direction à prendre. Nous sommes partis, comme cela, pour ce que nous pensions être une longue route, et nous avons ri, poussé des cris de joie et dansé à notre nouvelle liberté. Puis nous sommes arrivés à la Red River et nous avons vu que la glace était mince et que ce serait très dangereux de traverser. Ne pouvant trouver d’endroit pour traverser et sachant que nous allions devoir traverser, nous avons choisi l’endroit le plus étroit et nous sommes séparés de quelques mètres.

Je me rappelle que d’autres gosses de la Nation m’avaient dit comment traverser la glace mince si je devais vraiment le faire, ce à quoi faire attention et écouter la glace. Je dis à Danny, « Surveille la glace et si çà craque cherche l’endroit le plus court vers la berge. Si nécessaire, allonge-toi sur la glace. » Et nous avons commencé à traverser. Quand nous avons approché de la berge, Danny y est arrivé et s’est mis à rire de bonheur. J’étais probablement à 1,5 mètre de la rive et la glace a commencé à craquer, si fort que j’ai su qu’elle allait casser. J’ai essayé de glisser et de me faire léger. J’ai vu la branche d’un très jeune arbre au-dessus de la rive et ai essayé de l’atteindre. Juste au moment où j’y arrivais, la glace a cédé et j’ai coulé complètement dans l’eau glacée. Ma main a saisi la branche et je me suis hissé vers le haut. Quand ma tête fut hors de l’eau, j’ai saisi une autre branche et me suis tiré, Danny a saisi ma main et m’a tiré, et j’ai rejoint la terre, terriblement trempé mais vivant. Après quelques minutes j’ai commencé à trembler comme un fou, comme si le soleil s’était couché et que le froid s’intensifie rapidement. J’ai retiré tous mes vêtements et nous les avons essorés, nous demandant comment faire du feu, vu que le froid s’intensifiait rapidement. Il se mettait aussi à faire nuit très vite et j’avais de plus en plus froid, alors nous nous sommes demandé que faire. Danny dit « Retournons-y », alors nous avons réfléchi une seconde et décidé que c’était peut-être mieux et avons marché dans une certaine direction jusqu’à ce que nous arrivions sur une route. Nous avons marché un peu et une voiture est arrivée qui nous a pris en stop jusqu’à l’école. Nous nous sommes rendu compte que nous n’étions pas allés loin et étions un peu honteux de notre tentative de fuite.

Maintenant il fallait faire face. Nous décidions de dire que nous avions eu l’idée tous les deux, nous sentant seuls vu que nous n’avions pas vu nos familles depuis plus de 2 ans. Mais vu que nous avions enfreint les règles, nous devions tout de même être punis. Dix coups de règles sur les fesses et une autre coupe de cheveux à ras et nous devions porter des chaussures et vêtements trop grands pour que les gens puissent voir que nous étions des fuyards. Nous étions aussi privés de cinéma en ville pour un an. Mais çà, çà n’avait pas d’importance vu que nous n’avions pas l’argent pour payer des billets à 10 cents.

J’ai finalement pu sortir de Wahpeton après que des changements soient survenus à Washington D.C. en 1956, un des changements de règlement étant qu’ils ne pouvaient plus nous garder si nous avions quelque part où aller. Dès lors, ils ne pouvaient plus nous retenir pendant les mois d’été à cause de manquements mineurs au règlement, afin que les employés aient une raison d’y être et de toucher leur salaire. Si nos parents voulaient venir nous chercher, nous pouvions rentrer à la maison. J’ai écrit à ma mère, pensant toujours que j’étais à des centaines de kilomètres, pour voir si elle pourrait venir nous chercher. Elle est venue dès qu’elle a reçu la lettre, quelques jours après que je l’aie envoyée, mais elle ne pouvait pas emmener Pauline qui n’était pas son enfant, ce qui nous amène à un autre passage dur de cette histoire. Nous avons dû laisser la pauvre Pauline, qui, d’après ce qu’on en a entendu, a pleuré pendant des jours. Peu de temps après, elle a été placée dans une institution.

Ainsi, au bout de 3 ans, j’ai quitté la prison du pensionnat. Je ne sais pas ce qui a changé depuis mon époque. Certains disent que ce n’est plus comme avant, d’autres disent que si. Je sais que personne dans ma famille, aucun de mes enfants n’ont jamais été mis dans une de ces écoles. Cependant, je sais que certaines familles ne s’occupent pas de leurs enfants et que certains internats sont nécessaires. MAIS je sais que mes expériences à Wahpeton resterons le souvenir d’un enfer, qui me poursuivra jusqu’à ma mort.
J’ai été un résistant à la tentative de génocide de mon peuple depuis ce temps, et pour cela je vais plus que probablement mourir en prison. Le 6 février 2015, j’aurai passé 40 ans dans des prisons fédérales, même après que le procureur d’une haute Cour ait dit en 1984 que le gouvernement ne savait pas qui avait tué ses agents et n’avait pas de preuve contre moi, vu qu’il n’y en a pas. J’ai été condamné 2 fois à la perpétuité, peines qui ne peuvent être confondues. Lorsque j’ai été condamné, la perpétuité se ramenait en fait à 7 ans, ce qui veut dire que j’ai fait 5 fois la perpétuité plus 4 ans, pour avoir résisté au génocide des Autochtones. Je suis seulement coupable d’être Indien.

Dutch translation by Alice Holemans NAIS

Tagged with: Leonard Peltier • Leonard Peltier 40 ans de prison • Leonard Peltier par des pensionnats indiens •Pensionnats Indiens aux Etats-Unis

Home » Free Leonard Peltier » * LEONARD PELTIER’S SCHRIFTELIJKE GETUIGENIS VOOR HET KOSTSCHOOLTRIBUNAAL

* LEONARD PELTIER’S SCHRIFTELIJKE GETUIGENIS VOOR HET KOSTSCHOOLTRIBUNAAL

(October 22-25th 2014)

Door Leonard Peltier

Gepubliceerd door Censored News : http://bsnorrell.blogspot.be/2015/01/leonard-peltiers-written-statement-to.html

Vertaling door NAIS: www.denaisgazet.be

In de herfst van 1953 woonde ik met mijn zuster Betty Ann en nicht Pauline Peltier bij mijn grootmoeder Mary Dubois Peltier (die oorspronkelijk uit Canada kwam.)

Ik was 9 jaar oud, Betty en Pauline 6 jaar.

Wij leefden in een blokhut met twee kamers, op wat bekend stond als de hoogste heuvel in het reservaat.

Grootvader (Alex O. Peltier) had het eigenhandig gebouwd in de jaren 1940.

Grootvader was net gestorven aan longontsteking rond november of december 1953.

Wij leefden op de Turtle Mountain Little Shell Band of Native Nations , in Belcourt, Noord Dakota.

Op die herfstdag in september was ik, nog voor het ontbijt, buiten aan ’t spelen. Ik zag in de verte een grote stofwolk naderen die snel onze richting uitkwam. Dat kon enkel komen van een auto die heel snel reed.

Ik wist dat de enigen die zo’n snelle auto hadden de mensen van de BIA (Bureau of Indian Affairs)waren.

Ik wist dat ik verondersteld werd om me in het bos te gaan verstoppen, dat was de normale gang van zaken, dat werd reeds op vroege leeftijd aan de kinderen aangeleerd.

Wanneer we ons niet zouden verstoppen dan zou de regering ons stelen en zouden we nooit meer kunnen terugkeren.

Maar ik was nieuwsgierig en wou zien waar die auto zo snel naartoe reed.

Ik keek toe en staarde als onder hypnose naar de wagen die plots afsloeg en onze oprit kwam opstuiven.

De blanke man stapte uit de wagen en begon te praten met onze grootmoeder.

Wat hij niet wist was dat onze grootmoeder maar enkele woorden Engels kende en hem maar moeilijk kon verstaan, maar ik hoorde de woorden ‘kostschool’.

Dit woord boezemde alle Native kinderen angst in.

Ik werd bang.

Ik wou weglopen en in het bos vluchten om me te verstoppen, maar ik kon mijn grootmoeder, zuster en nichtje niet achterlaten.

Al wat ik nu wou doen was gillen en roepen dat ze ons met rust moeten laten. Ik zag dat de man gefrustreerd raakte en heel kwaad werd omdat grootmoeder hem niet kon verstaan. Nu was ik bang dat hij hen pijn zou doen.

Grootmoeder bleef tegen me zeggen,”Leonard, loop en verstop je” (zij sprak ‘midcef’, een Franse en Chippewa taal die door de inheemsen gecreëerd werd).

Maar ik voelde me als gehypnotiseerd. Ik kon me niet bewegen en stond vastgenageld aan de grond.

Uiteindelijk begreep grootmoeder dat ze naar de gevangenis zou gebracht worden.

Wenend zei ze ons dat we maar moesten meegaan met die man want anders zouden ze haar opsluiten en ons toch meepakken. Betty en Pauline begonnen zo hartverscheurend te schreien dat de haren in mijn nek rechtop kwamen staan.

Grootmoeder bleef maar herhalen dat ik sterk moest zijn, om een man te zijn en voor mijn zuster en nichtje moest zorgen. Ze zei : “ laat hen niet zien dat je weent, anders straffen je ze daarvoor.” Maar ik wou geen man zijn. Ik wou schreien om hulp.

Ik heb nooit meer geweend sinds die dag, zelfs niet in de gevangenis, toen mijn sympathisanten het gedaan kregen dat ik een telefoon mocht hebben naast mijn bed toen mijn vader aan ’t sterven was.

Wij werden met hoge snelheid weggevoerd naar Belcourt, de hoofdplaats van het reservaat.

Ik kon door de achterruit niets anders zien dat een grote stofwolk.

Aan de Belcourt school zagen we gele schoolbussen op een rij staan.

Arme Betty en Pauline weenden nog steeds en ze maakten deerniswekkende baby geluidjes. Tot vandaag hoor ik het nog steeds. Ik heb van alles geprobeerd om hen te doen ophouden met wenen. Zij waren nog zo klein, ik denk dat ze niet meer kunnen stoppen met wenen, zelfs als ze het zouden willen.

De angst die op hun gezichtjes te lezen stond is een beeld dat ik probeerde te vergeten, maar nog steeds blijft dat me achtervolgen.

Ik probeerde hen duidelijk te maken dat ze goed naar me moesten luisteren ingeval we zouden kunnen ontsnappen. Wij moesten weten welke weg we moesten nemen om terug thuis te geraken. Ontsnappen, dat was het enige waaraan ik kon denken. Ontsnappen uit de klauwen van deze mensen die ons gevangen hadden.

Wij wisten niet of ze ons naar de gevangenis zouden brengen of elders, niemand vertelde ons iets, behalve dan dat we naar de kostschool gingen.

Wij werden geleerd om van hen weg te vluchten het bos in, of wanneer we stout waren werden we gedreigd met de kostschool. Voor ons was dat het monster, de indiaanse kostschool, dat was alles waar ik kon aan denken die 250-300 mijlen lang.

Ik wist niet hoe ik mijn zus en mijn nichtje moest beschermen.

Het leek alsof we de hele dag gereisd hadden. Ik herinner me dat we een keer gestopt zijn om naar het toilet te gaan. In die dagen waren dat allemaal buitentoiletten. Betty en Pauline weigerden uit de bus te stappen, ik moest hen smeken om naar het toilet te gaan.

Wij kregen ieder een boterham maar de meisjes wilden niet eten dus stak ik de boterhammen in mijn zakken, ingeval we konden ontsnappen. Later kwam ik erachter dat ze pas de volgende dag wilden eten en dat was enkel nadat ze mij in de eetzaal gezien hadden.

Betty zegt dat ze zich dat niet meer kan herinneren . Ik denk dat ze zich dat niet wil herinneren. Wie wil dat?

Ik weet van mezelf dat ik mijn hele leven al geprobeerd heb die herinneringen te vergeten. Pauline is het nooit helemaal te boven gekomen. Men heeft haar in een psychiatrische instelling gestoken tot in de late jaren 60 begin 70 de wetten versoepeld werden en men haar bevrijdde. Men beweerde dat zij van de cementen trappen gevallen was in de school en daarbij hersenletsel had opgelopen.

Ik ben haar een keer gaan bezoeken en kon niet aanzien wat daar gebeurde. Ik ben nooit meer terugekeerd. Ik heb daar nu spijt van, en zal er spijt van blijven hebben tot ik sterf. Ik ben opgegroeid met me af te vragen welke misdaad wij begaan hadden, behalve dan dat men ons steeds voorhield dat wij enkel maar indianen zijn.

Wij arriveerden enkele uren later in de Wahpeton school in Wahpeton Noord Dakota. Ik denk dat het om 14 of 15 uur was. Wij moesten allemaal in een rij gaan staan en zij begonnen ons te ‘sorteren’ in leeftijd en graden. Ik wist niet in welke graad ik zat, dus toen een kind naast mij zei 3° graad, zei ik ja, 3° graad.

Dan werden we opgesplitst in rang , leeftijd en lengte en moesten we in formatie staan zoals in een tuchthuis. Dan ging het in mars naar de Center Hall.

In de kelder waren er kamers aan de westkant en de oostkant. Aan de oostkantkant was de wasserij, kapper, kledingvoorraden en douches.

De westkant was de recreatieplaats ingeval wanneer het te koud was om naar buiten te gaan.

Toen moesten we in een rij voor de stoelen van de kapper gaan staan en werden onze haren kort geschoren in militaire stijl. Plotseling zagen we er allemaal vreemd uit en konden we de kinderen, die onze vrienden geworden waren niet meer herkennen. De kleinsten begonnen te wenen, wij de ouderen, wel, wij die toen geloofden dat we de ouderen waren probeerden hen te doen ophouden en knuffelden hen en zeiden dat we nog steeds hun vrienden waren. Een kleine jongen Macloud klampte zich aan me vast, en hij werd aan mij toegewezen om hem te wassen, ’s ochtends uit bed te halen en iedere avond om 9 uur in bed te stoppen. Wij kregen te eten, moesten ons bed opmaken zoals in het leger, met de juiste plooien. Wat ik niet kon maar wat me geleerd werd door de oudere jongens. De jongens en de meisjes kregen te eten in dezelfde eetzaal.

Daarna gingen we naar de douchekamer waar zij DDT over ons strooiden om eventuele luizen te doden. Dat brandde als de hel. De kleintjes weenden. Dan moesten we een voor een onder de douche. Daar het kleintje zich nog steeds aan me vastklampte werd mij gezegd dat ik hem moest wassen met, wat ik later ontdekte dezelfde soort zeep en borstel die we gebruikten om de cementen vloeren mee te schrobben. Met een doek moesten wij onze hielen en voorarmen, ellebogen en geslachtsdelen schrobben. Dan werd er vaseline aangebracht op onze voorarmen, ellebogen en de hielen van onze voeten en werd er hard gewreven met een witte handdoek. Wanneer er een beetje dode huid loskwam werden diegenen die verantwoordelijk waren om iemand te wassen geslagen met de dikke meetstok.

Het slaan werd door de matrone uitgevoerd. De oudere kinderen moesten de jongere slaan. Sommige oudere kids weigerden de kleintjes te slaan. Die werden de herrieschoppers genoemd, wij noemden hen de ‘weerstanders’ , DE WARRIORS!

De anderen die de kleintjes wél sloegen noemden we de BIA indianen, de ‘sell outs’, de indianen van de blanke man. Wij hadden vele namen voor hen.

Tijdens die eerste douche kreeg ik mijn eerste kennismaking met de meetstok omdat het kleine jongetje begon te wenen omdat ik hem te hard schrobde en zij vonden een stukje dode huid aan de achterkant van zijn hiel.

Dat maakte mij van al vlug een ‘Weerstander’ en ik haatte de matrones en hun waanzin.

Toen moesten we naar de kant van de wasserij en daar kregen we overalls zoals de boeren vroeger droegen, en ook een paar bruine werkschoenen. Ons bed werd ons toegewezen en dan was het tijd om te eten. Wij hadden allemaal veel honger. Ik was vooraal ongeduldig omdat ik wist dat ik Betty en Pauline zou terugzien.

Daarvoor werd ik geroepen en naar de meisjes slaapkamer gebracht. Er werd me opgedragen ervoor te zorgen dat Betty en Pauline zouden ophouden met huilen.

Ik heb hen uitgelegd dat ik niet bij hen kon zijn maar dat ik naast hun slaapzaal was en dat wanneer ze niet zouden ophouden met huilen ik nog meer gestraft zou worden.

Ik liet hen zien wat ze met mijn haar gedaan hadden en de rode striemen op mijn rug.

Ik zei hen “aub, ween niet meer. Ik laat jullie niet alleen, aub. Straks gaan we eten en dan zie ik jullie terug.”

Toen we gingen eten zag ik Betty en Pauline met gebogen hoofden aan tafel zitten.

Af en toe keek Betty op en zocht ze mij met haar ogen. Uiteindelijk kreeg ze me in het oog en  begon ze, opgewonden wuivend, te roepen naar Pauline ‘Daar is Leonard!” Ik glimlachte en deed hen teken dat ze moesten eten, en dat deden ze. Ik herinner me niet dat ze daarna nog geweend hebben.

De eerste keer dat ik hen alleen kon zien op het schoolplein zei ik hen dat we moesten groeien en sterk moesten worden zodat we zouden kunnen ontsnappen. Het heeft bijna twee jaar geduurd voor ik mijn eerste ontsnappingspoging uitvoerde en daarbij bijna verdronk in de Red Rivier.

Het was in de lente en mijn neef Daniel Peltier zei me dat hij naar huis wou en of ik met hem wou vluchten. Ik verlangde zo naar huis en was zo eenzaam , ik verlangde naar mijn grootmoeder want zij was de enige moeder die ik ooit gehad heb of me kon herinneren. Ik zei hem dat ik niet weg kon en mijn zuster en nichtje achterlaten. Zij zouden me missen en opnieuw gaan huilen. Maar Danny bleef aandringen en dus stemde ik toe.

Zonder geld, vervangkleren en helemaal niets om te eten vertrokken we zonder ook maar te weten welke richting we uitmoesten. Wij liepen gewoon weg, toen wij dachten dat we reeds een lange weg gegaan waren, werden we euforisch,we lachten, waren vrolijk en dansten in het rond voor onze herwonnen vrijheid.

Toen kwamen we aan de Red River en we zagen dat het ijs zeer dun was en dat het te gevaarlijk zou zijn om over te steken. Omdat we geen doorwaadplaats vonden en wisten dat de weg naar de vrijheid aan de andere kant lag zochten, en vonden we de smalste plaats waar we konden oversteken.

Ik herinner me dat de oudere kinderen in het reservaat ons geleerd hadden hoe we het best dun ijs konden oversteken, naar wat we moesten uitkijken, en hoe te luisteren naar het ijs.

Ik zei tegen Danny:” Observeer het ijs en wanneer het ijs breekt zoek de kortste weg naar de oever. Als het moet ga je plat op je buik over het ijs.”

Dus begonnen we aan de oversteek, Danny slaagde erin ongedeerd de overkant te bereiken en lachte vrolijk.

Ik was iets meer dan een meter verwijderd van de oever toen het ijs luid begon te kraken. Ik probeerde met mijn voet te glijden en maakte mezelf lichter dan mijn 40 Kg. Ik zag een tak van een boom, van een erg jonge boom over de oever hangen en die wou ik grijpen. Net toen ik erbij was brak het ijs en ik ging volledig kopje onder in het ijskoude water. Mijn hand kon de tak grijpen en daar trok ik me aan op. Zodra mij hoofd boven water kwam greep ik een andere tak en hees mezelf uit het water. Danny greep mijn hand en trok me uit alle macht op het droge, kliedernat, maar levend. Na een paar minuten begon ik vreselijk te bibberen. Terwijl de zon onderging en het kouder werd trok ik al mijn kleren uit en samen wrongen we ze uit terwijl we ons afvroegen hoe we vuur konden maken daar het met de minuut kouder werd.

Ik had het vreselijk koud en het werd vlug donker, we wisten niet meer wat te doen. Danny zei, laat ons terugkeren, en na even nagedacht te hebben besloten we dat maar te doen.

Wij stapten nog een korte tijd in een willekeurige richting tot we aan een weg kwamen. Een auto pikte ons op en bracht ons terug naar de school. Toen drong het door dat wij nog niet zo ver geraakt waren en dat maakte ons een beetje beschaamd over de mislukte vluchtpoging.

Maar nu moesten we de gevolgen incasseren. We hadden afgesproken dat we zouden zeggen dat het idee om weg te lopen van ons allebei kwam omdat we eenzaam waren en verlangden naar onze verwanten, waar we reeds 2 jaar gescheiden van leefden.

Maar omdat we de regels verbroken hadden moesten we dus gestraft worden.

Wij kregen elk tien stokslagen en ons haar werd nog korter geschoren. Wij kregen kleren aan die veel te groot waren, met veel te grote schoenen omdat de mensen ons zouden herkennen als “vluchters”. Wij mochten een jaar lang geen filmvertoning bijwonen. Maar dat was niet erg daar wij toch nooit de vereiste 10 cent hadden voor een ticket.

Uiteindelijk geraakte ik toch in 1956 uit Wahpeton, nadat de regels vanuit Washington DC veranderd werden . Een grote verandering was dat men ons niet langer kon vasthouden als we een plaats hadden waar we naar toe konden gaan. Nu konden ze ons daar niet langer in de zomermaanden vasthouden als straf en zodoende hadden de werknemers geen reden meer om daar te zijn en daarvoor loon te ontvangen.

Als onze ouders ons wilden ophalen dan moesten zij ons laten gaan.

Ik schreef een brief naar mijn moeder, nog steeds denkende dat ik honderden mijlen ver weg zat. Zij kwam zodra ze de letter ontvangen had en dat was al na enkele dagen nadat ik de brief verzonden had.

Maar zij mocht Pauline niet meenemen omdat het niet haar eigen kind was. En dat was weer heel hard. Wij waren verplicht Pauline achter te laten en naar we later gehoord hebben heeft ze dagenlang gehuild. Kort daarna werd ze in een psychiatrische instelling opgesloten.

Na drie jaar kon ik dan toch de kostschoolgevangenis verlaten.

Ik weet niet hoeveel er sindsdien veranderd is . Sommigen zeggen dat het niet meer is zoals in mijn tijd, anderen zeggen van wel. Ik weet dat geen van de kinderen van mijn familie ooit in een van deze scholen gestoken werden.

Ik weet echter wel dat sommige families niet om hun kinderen geven en dat sommige kostscholen nodig zijn maar, mijn ervaringen met Wahpeton zullen, zolang ik leef herinneringen zijn uit de hel.

Sinds die tijd ben ik een ‘Weerstander’ tegen de genocide van mijn volk, en daarvoor zal ik waarschijnlijk sterven in de gevangenis.

Op 6 februari 2015 zal ik 40 jaar in de gevangenis gezeten hebben, zelfs nadat de aanklager in 1984 in het hooggerechtshof verklaarde dat de regering geen idee heeft van wie haar agenten gedood heeft en zonder bewijzen tegen mij, want die zijn er gewoonweg niet.

Ik ben veroordeeld tot 2 x levenslange opsluiting.

Toen ik aangeklaagd werd betekende levenslang 7 jaar, wat wil zeggen dat ik ondertussen 5 keer levenslang en nog vier jaar heb uitgezeten om me te verzetten tegen de genocide tegen Native mensen.

Ik ben enkel schuldig aan ‘het indiaan zijn’.

Also see:

Written Testimony by imprisoned activist Leonard Peltier. Testimony read into the record by Dorothy Ninham, at the Boarding School Tribunal in Green Bay, Wisconsin, Thursday, Oct. 23, 2014

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KpNSa5vX1qY

Boarding School Tribunal Findings and Recommendations

http://www.bsnorrell.blogspot.com/2015/01/boarding-school-tribunal-releases.html

Govinda of Earthcycles, and Brenda Norrell of Censored News, provided live coverage of the Boarding School Tribunal. Earthcycles provided livestream and video archives, and Censored News provided live print coverage. Both are volunteers and were the only media present at the three-day Boarding School Tribunal on Oneida land in Wisconsin in Oct. 2014.