It’s About More Than Just a Pipeline

Midway into Donald Trump’s third week in the White House, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers announced a stunning reversal on a decision made during the waning days of the Obama administration. The Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL), a 1,170-mile duct to carry oil from North Dakota fields to an Illinois refinery, will proceed without an environmental impact review. Despite protestors camping out for months, the final phase of construction—burrowing underneath the Missouri River, which provides drinking water to the Standing Rock Sioux less than half a mile away— resumed last week. One of the pipeline’s most devoted protestors, however, is making his strongest stand back in his hometown.
On the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota, Nick Tilsen, a 34-year-old member of the Oglala Lakota Nation and founding executive director of the Thunder Valley Community Development Corporation, is breaking ground on nearly three dozen homes and other amenities on 34 acres of land. The planned community for Porcupine, S.D., nearly a decade in the making, will incorporate the latest in sustainability: energy-efficient buildings, a local food network and a walkable, self-contained neighborhood — all elements of the traditional Lakota lifestyle made modern. As debate over the pipeline rages, Tilsen’s fighting on two fronts: protecting the waterway that will provide today’s drinking water to residents and preparing for a “post-petroleum future” tomorrow.
[ph]
A Regenerative Community Development
Judged by per capita income, Oglala Lakota County, one of five counties within the Pine Ridge reservation, is among the poorest places in America. With wages at a paltry $9,150 per person, almost half of all residents—44.2 percent—live in poverty. Only one-tenth of teenagers graduate from college, and barely half of adults are employed. Proponents argue that the pipeline would jumpstart the region’s economy, creating up to 12,000 direct jobs during construction and supporting up to 81,500 more workers tied to the petroleum industry.
Tilsen, however, believes a pipeline that rips through the landscape to deliver an increasingly antiquated energy source cannot restore economic independence. Infrastructure is needed, he agrees, but destitute pockets in the Dakotas need to bolster themselves by building sustainable communities instead.
Rising against what they see as a century of their people’s subjugation for gold and oil, Tilsen and other Lakota youth proposed the development in 2004. “People are facing the threat of resource extraction in many communities, in the form of dams, in oil and gas drilling, in nuclear storage,” he says. “But in the same breath that we talk about what we’re against and what we’re resisting, it’s important that people take back what solutions they want to have. If we’re against this pipeline and unsustainable projects, it’s just as important for us, as indigenous people, to define what we’re for, double down and start working toward the kinds of communities we want.”
[ph]
At numerous gatherings sponsored by the Thunder Valley CDC throughout 2006, members of the entire tribe debated what features make up an ideal town and whether to pursue constructing one. A few tribal elders scoffed at what looked like foolhardiness and doubted that Tilsen’s young cohort could overcome Pine Ridge’s longstanding poverty; others believed the youth needed to focus on pressuring the federal government to uphold existing obligations, not divert attention to a new project.
Tilsen’s persuasion proved effective, and the conversation shifted to what should be built, a discussion that lasted 10 years. As part of a grand vision articulated by the community, Thunder Valley CDC installed the infrastructure — roads, sewers, electricity and broadband internet — in the newly planned development, which is located in Porcupine, a small town roughly midway between the entry to South Dakota’s Badlands National Park and the Nebraska border. During the next decade, 30 single-family homes, 48 apartment units and up to 10 artist studios; a market, a geothermal greenhouse and coops for 400 chickens; a youth shelter and powwow grounds will be constructed. Foundations have been poured for the first seven houses, and one has a roof. This summer, construction will begin on a 4,000-square-foot community center, reports Kaziah Haviland-Montgomery, an architectural fellow.
In line with Lakota values, the affordable houses are highly insulated, both to keep out the bitter Dakota winds but also to retain energy from heating. Each will be built with a five-kilowatt-hour solar panel on the rooftop, installed by locals.
A Sustainable Form of Resistance
Thunder Valley’s plans gained momentum as the Standing Rock movement grew. Those who couldn’t join the protestors viewed working on the development or becoming more conscious of waste as their own forms of organized resistance, notes Cecily Engelheart, Thunder Valley CDC’s communications director.
“Instead of styrofoam or paper plates at a community feed, we [have discussed] bringing our own picnic box of plates and silverware…It’s those smaller scale actions, really individual choices,” Engelheart explains.
If Thunder Valley ends up alleviating the desperation, both economic and environmental, its lessons could be adopted well beyond tribal nations. “If we’re pulling up our sleeves to do it here, then absolutely New York City should do it, as should Boston, Houston and Los Angeles. Everybody should be finding the right way to build equitable and sustainable communities in their city. It’s not just for Indian Country, as much as for humanity,” Tilsen says.
[ph]
In Lakota mythology, there’s a prophecy about a great black snake that slithers across the heartland. Where it burrows underground, the tale goes, the serpent will poison the earth. To many tribal nations, the warning is clear: the impending Dakota Access Pipeline, which will travel under the Missouri River, embodies the creature that elders warned of. Protestors gathered at Standing Rock talk about massing together to kill the black snake.
But there’s a lesser-known story about how the serpent must be vanquished. Tilsen grew up hearing that its blood must be drained. In other words, to defeat the pipeline, Americans need to sever their dependence on oil, both foreign and domestic. Otherwise, “the black snake always rears its head,” Tilsen says.
The Dakota Access Pipeline may be built, endangering Lakota Nation’s water and sacred lands. But with Tilsen’s strategy, any construction will be a temporary setback. The snake can be outmaneuvered still.
MORE: How Do You Breathe Life into a Neighborhood That’s Been Forgotten?

South Dakota’s Sustainable Plan to End Native American Poverty

As one of the nation’s poorest areas, the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota is in need of some help. The Oglala Sioux, who occupy the land, often travel more than 120 miles to Rapid City for temporary employment and only one in five has a job. Coupled with a severe housing shortage, 69 percent of Pine Ridge residents live below the poverty line, according to the American Indian Relief Council.
But one of the youngest residents at Pine Ridge is hoping to change the dire conditions by rebuilding a sustainable and affordable community on an empty stretch of 34 acres on the reservation. Nick Tilsen, a member of the Oglala Lakota Nation and owner of the Thunder Valley Community Economic Development Corporation, has an ambitious plan to build affordable single-family homes and co-housing spaces with green features including onsite wind power and an aquaponics greenhouse.  
Using a new, native-owned construction company, the project aims to create homes and jobs for the overcrowded and underemployed population. Tilsen’s development company has already acquired the South Dakota land to build the community, but as Fast Company points out, the area is ill-defined as to where it falls in county lines.

“You don’t have a county able to charge property taxes, which is how counties fund themselves. Without that revenue, you don’t have a revenue stream to build lights,electricity, roads, infrastructure and sewage. Usually it’s the county that does that,” says Marjorie Kelly, a director of special projects with The Democracy Collaborative, which is supporting the idea.

But that hasn’t stopped Tilsen, whose teamed up with an architect from Kansas City-based green firm BNIM. The project was a finalist in the Buckminster Fuller 2014 Fuller Challenge. Tilsen’s goal is to build 30 residences within the first few years, but Tilsen is aiming to use it as a model for other reservations throughout the country.

“It’s a model for Indian country — how can you do sustainable development and affordable housing that’s really ecologically sustainable?” Kelly adds. “A number of federal agencies that work with Native Americans are watching it.”

MORE: Could a Basic Income Cut American Poverty in Half?

If You Think Dirty Energy Always Wins, Think Again

Great news for renewable power in South Dakota!
Following intense outcry, the state’s electric company, Black Hills Power, has withdrawn a proposal that would have penalized customers who generate their energy through solar or wind systems, the Rapid City Journal reports.
The rate increase, called the “Residential Demand Service,” would have added an additional $5 to $20 on top of what a non-generating customer pays, Think Progress writes.
The decision to nix the extra charge is especially important because the state isn’t exactly friendly towards renewables. As one South Dakota solar family tells the Journal, “Thanks to years of consistent lobbying by utility companies that fear the growth of homegrown generation, the South Dakota Legislature has avoided creating the solar-power incentives other states have.”
As it happens, the state is one of only seven in the country that does not require net metering (which allows solar users to sell the energy they create back to the utility). Instead, the utility sets the rate — meaning South Dakota solar or wind users could potentially get much less money for what they put back on the grid compared to market prices.
However, Black Hill’s concession means that those interested in solar or wind power in the state no longer have to fear they will be penalized for making clean energy choices.
MORE: This Is What Happens When a County Bands Together to Get Cleaner Power
Still, other non-generating customers in South Dakota could see their bills increase. The solar surcharge was coupled with a proposal of a 13 percent rate hike for its 66,000 customers across the board, which would amount to an extra $13 per month to the average bill. Black Hills had asked to increase rates in order to cover repairs on the grid following an October blizzard. South Dakota’s Public Utilities Commission will decide on the rate proposals by early next year. But as we’ve said before, if anything, it’s likely that this increased fee will make more people want to make the switch to renewable energy.
And as we previously reported, unfortunately, Arizona and Georgia already levied this so-called “sun tax” on solar users, even though their homes use less power and return excess power to the grid with the energy generated by their panels. These extra charges stifle and discourage renewable alternatives, which doesn’t help us in this fight to curb our dependence on fossil fuels.
The good news is, however, more and more people are standing up to Big Power, just like South Dakota. Last month, when Utah’s Rocky Mountain Power similarly tried to propose a sun tax, residents fought back and the company abandoned the plan.
As climate change causes more Americans to embrace and shift towards renewable energy, the future of the planet is only looking bright.
DON’T MISS: The United States’s First Carbon-Neutral City Is…
 

When Suffering From Drought, Being Inspired by Nature Can Lead to a Solution

With its mountains, green hills and Mount Rushmore, South Dakota is idyllic. But don’t let the lush parts of the state fool you. For the past 15 years, some of its regions have been suffering periodic droughts, leaving the land and its residents depleted.
This is especially the case for the Cheyenne River Reservation, home to half of the Lakota tribe. Located in Ziebach County, this is also one of the poorest areas in the country.
That’s why a group from the tribe is looking to the beaver (yes, the animal) to get things flowing again. They call themselves Mni which means “water,” and they’re working to rehydrate the land and their lives.
Fifteen years of on-and-off drought has left the soil in the region very dry, so now, when it experiences steady rainfall, the ground is too dry to absorb the water. The rainwater runs off the land and into the creeks along the Mississippi River causing flooding but no quenching replenishment of the land.
The Mni’s plan? To build thousands of beaver-like dams in creeks and gullies all over the reservation, which will slow the rainwater long enough so that it can be absorbed into the ground. Beavers have been the ones controlling the water flow for centuries, so Mni is looking to the experts.
Comprised of the Duchenaux family and headed by matriarch Candace, the Mni is starting small — constructing the dams on their land initially. If it’s successful, the group plans to spread it to other parts of the reservation and train workers to build them.
They aren’t stopping there, though. All of their work is part of a larger goal to bring sustainable water programs to the reservation. Their first step was to bring Environmental Prize-winning hydrologist Michael Kravcik to speak to the tribal leaders about ways to improve the area.
They also organized a group of volunteers, teachers and students to survey, design and build 19 dams. The project was funded partly through a grant from the Colorado State University’s Center for Collaborative Conservation. Additionally, they worked in partnership with the university’s chapter of Engineers Without Borders. The process was a trial-and-error effort to find the best places to build the dams. When a flash flood destroyed the first one, the team was encouraged because they were one step closer to finding the perfect spot and understanding the water flow.
For Candace Duchenaux, she feels that you have to start small to make the biggest impact on the world.
“We have a million acres of tribal land here,” she told Yes! Magazine. “If we could convince the indigenous nations to begin water restoration — to unite in it — not only could we have a huge impact on the hydrologic cycle, but we could also set an example for the rest of the world.”
Through their work, Mni is showing that it isn’t the size of a project that matters, but the know-how and perseverance to make a difference.
MORE: How This Fix Can Help Quench California’s Thirst

Helping Veterans Is As Easy As Drinking This Beer. Seriously.

In the summertime, the most exertion many of us are willing to commit involves turning over some hamburgers on the barbecue. But a new brewery with a special mission is making helping veterans as easy as cracking open a bottle of beer.
Navy veteran Paul Jenkins and Marine Corps veteran Mike Danzer founded the Veteran Beer Company in 2012 with the goal of easing the veteran employment crunch by creating a company that would employ veterans and generate profits that could be donated to charities that help veterans. They began selling their two varieties—Blonde Bomber and The Veteran—on Veteran’s Day in 2013, and the company has been expanding ever since.
“We only anticipated to sell about 2,000 cases our first year,” Josh Ray, regional director of Veteran Brewing Company told Nicole Johnson of Valley News Live. “After four months, we did over 30,000 cases, and we’re pretty close to approaching 60,000 cases right now.”
Beer drinkers can now find Veteran Beer Company’s brews for sale in Indiana, Illinois, North Dakota, South Dakota, Minnesota and Wisconsin. Ten percent of the profits go to veterans’ charities, and the rest is channeled back into the company. Veteran Beer Company, which brews its beer in Cold Spring, Minnesota, employs only veterans, and plans to hire more vets as it continues to expand.
“Some of the things that veterans are promised aren’t really always followed through on,” Ray said. “With this, it’s really our opportunity to give back.” And anyone planning to buy a six pack to celebrate a lazy summer afternoon can give back too.
MORE: When This Marine Couldn’t Find A Job, He Started A Business To Help Other Returning Vets

Veterans Receive Donations From an Unlikely Source: A 12-Year-Old Girl

Whereas most teenagers want clothing or a new smartphone for their birthday, Katy Sell wanted something, well, let’s say, quite different, for her 12th birthday. She wanted to help U.S. veterans.
After Katy’s mother challenged her to do something kind for others on her birthday, Katy, who lives in Deubrook, South Dakota, came up with a bigger idea than her mom ever imagined: She decided to donate all of her presents to the California-based Big Paws Canine Academy and Foundation, a nonprofit that trains service animals for veterans and has a Midwest branch in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.
According to the Big Paws website, Katy and her mother Julie Sell, a Navy veteran, were homeless seven years ago. It was that tough experience that gave them extra motivation to help others.
When people heard about Katy’s generosity, her school friends and many others chipped in additional donations to help the nonprofit. At Katy’s birthday party, several veterans brought their service animals to meet the generous teen and her friends. Ricky Crudden told Denise DePaolo of KSFY, “I lost the use of my legs due to a stroke because of COPD.” Big Paws matched him with his service dog Tracer. Crudden said, “He saved my life. He woke me up in the middle of the night.”
During the party, one veteran received the dog he’d been waiting for — giving Katy the experience of seeing the first moments of a new relationship. “It gives me a good, tingly feeling inside because I know I’m helping a lot of people,” Sell told DePaolo.
MORE: This Nonprofit Reunites Veterans with the Four-Legged Friends They Made Overseas
 

The Surprising Way South Dakota Is Beating All Other States

Though you might not be looking forward to the repetitive television ads, the knocks of canvassers on your door, or the popping up of yard signs in your neighborhood, there is one reason to be excited about the midterms: Elections are better run now than ever before, according to a report published by the Pew Charitable Trust’s State and Consumer Initiatives program.
The average person who cast a ballot in 2012 had to wait in line for three minutes less than she did in 2008. This is obviously exciting information. In those extra minutes of freedom in November, you could listen to Beyoncé’s song “XO” or watch Anna Kendrick’s SuperBowl ad or tweet about democracy. (The latter definitely being the most socially responsible.)
In addition to lower wait times in most states, fewer people with disabilities or illnesses had trouble voting in 2012. Technology was key to the streamlining; many more states offered online voter registration, for example.
“This is a bipartisan mix of states. This is not something that only Republicans or Democrats have license to,” David Becker, Pew’s director of Election Initiatives, told the Washington Post.
The Pew survey measured state performance based on 17 different indicators, including the number of registrations and mail-in ballots that were rejected. Mississippi performed the worst: Not as many voters turned out there as in other states, and when they did, they had to wait in line longer than the national average. Mississippi has no online registration.
Other fun facts: While the District of Columbia has the highest percentage of registered residents (92 percent), voters with disabilities or illnesses had the hardest time casting votes there. Disabled voters in Washington State, where mail-in ballots are the norm, had the easiest time.
The state that fared best across all seventeen indicators was South Dakota. In fact, South Dakota has scored highest in all three Pew Elections Performance Index Reports.
Who knew South Dakota was killing it, election wise? Never again should you assume that the Black Hills and Mount Rushmore are all South Dakotans have to brag about.

His Family Lost Its Farm. Now He’s Making Sure No One Else in His Community Suffers the Same Fate

Farmers can’t take sick leave, so when an emergency comes up, they’re sometimes in danger of losing a year’s crop, putting their entire livelihood in jeopardy. That’s when Farm Rescue steps in. Farm Rescue’s founder Bill Gross worked as a pilot before returning home to North Dakota, where his family had lost the farm he grew up on after a financial setback. In 2005 he started the nonprofit to provide help to farmer’s struggling with illness or natural disaster.
Farm Rescue has helped 250 families in North Dakota, South Dakota, eastern Montana, Minnesota and Iowa. The non-profit provides donated equipment and organizes its over 700 volunteers to make use of the seed, fertilizer, and fuel the families provide. Families can contact Farm Rescue for help, but half of the time concerned farmers hear about a neighbor’s troubles and anonymously recommend them for help. “We provide the equipment and manpower, and we get it done for them,” Goss told David Karas of the Christian Science Monitor. “We are basically a big, mobile farming operation.”
“We are helping to make it more likely for future generations of family farms to be able to continue,” Goss told Karas. “That is what I actually find the most satisfying.”
MORE: This Partnership Encourages Vets to Become Farmers

How Straw Bales Helped Solve an Indian Reservation’s Desperate Need for Homes

On South Dakota’s Pine Ridge Reservation, 4,000 Oglala Sioux families are in desperate need of homes, and now several groups are working together to solve this problem in an environmentally-friendly way. The Thunder Valley Community Development Corporation has teamed up with the University of Colorado’s Native American Sustainable Housing Initiative to build four prototype houses. South Dakota college students are helping to build homes insulated with straw bales or packed-earth blocks, with radiant floor heating that should save its future inhabitants money, as well as a shallow foundation that’s more energy-efficient than the drafty basements usually found on the reservation. They plan to build 100 such homes, and fulfill the families’ energy needs through solar panels and other energy-saving techniques.
Nick Tilsen, the executive director of the Thunder Valley Community Development Corporation told Nate Seltenrich of High Country News, “We’re trying to build a net-zero affordable house. We’re looking for these 34 acres to be almost like a laboratory for Indian Country, for Pine Ridge, and for the country when it comes to sustainable communities.”
MORE: Can Ancient Native American Techniques Heal Today’s Vets? 

The Race to Save a Language — and Its People

As the coach of the Crusaders, the boys’ basketball team at the Red Cloud Indian School in Pine Ridge, S.D., Matt Rama knew his players were bright, talented and dedicated. But he also knew that as kids growing up on this reservation they struggled with a host of deep-seated issues — from trouble with decision-making on and off the court to confusion about self-identity.
Roughly the size of Connecticut, Pine Ridge is often defined by some hard truths: Alcoholism affecting 8 of 10 households, an average of 17 people living in reservation homes and the lowest life expectancy in the United States. Rama, 41, spent most of his time and energy working on ways to build his players’ self confidence, from including prayer in his pre-game speeches to incorporating Lakota ritual in practices. Then one day — on a whim — he started calling plays in the native language of the Lakota people. The results were astonishing. During the next seven years, the record at Red Cloud was constantly rising, until it reached 133 wins and 40 losses, and Rama’s team averaged 17 wins a season, never again losing more than 25 percent of their games. He coached 41 All-Conference players and four First Team All-State players. Perhaps even more impressive, his team had 16 Academic All-State players and won the State Academic Achievement Team Award every year after he started calling plays in Lakota.
“I had no idea I could make such a difference in the players’ lives and the lives of their families by bringing the language back to them,” Rama says. He watched firsthand as the use of the Lakota language changed the way these young men felt as people. Inspired by this result, Rama decided to go back to teaching elementary school with an emphasis on the Lakota language. He wanted to make sure no other young Lakota person he encountered would miss out on the chance to understand their ancestral language —and the self-identity and worth that comes from that knowledge. In 2012 Rama teamed with his friend and fellow Lakota language booster, Peter Hill, to reach kids even before they entered elementary school. Today he is the co-founder and program director of Lakota Language Immersion Childcare — the only program of its kind in the country. Continue reading “The Race to Save a Language — and Its People”