#STANDWITHSTANDINGROCK
Published December 2016
COURTNEY CRONIS
Hannah, another Water Protector, who I was fortunate to walk with arms linked, and stand with as a barrier of allies, made an unlikely friend at the Capitol. This yellow butterfly stayed with her for hours without leaving. Mother Nature knows who her protectors are.
Take a look at some Water Protectors peacefully assembling together at the North Dakota State Capitol and downtown Bismarck, as well as outside of Mandan, from the past few days. Take a look if you're interested, share, and consider coming out here for yourself or donating to those that are out here to support this critically important, powerful movement--because there's a pretty good chance you drink water too. Join the right side of history.
Hannah, another Water Protector, who I was fortunate to walk with arms linked, and stand with as a barrier of allies, made an unlikely friend at the Capitol. This yellow butterfly stayed with her for hours without leaving. Mother Nature knows who her protectors are.
11.16.2016 North Dakota State Bank
Courtney Cronis
Explorers once called the land
"an ocean of grass"
Legend says some went crazy —
everywhere they looked
was land and sky and hills
expanding in all directions
with no end in sight.
No factories, no cities, no pipelines.
Now, we have oceans of greed,
and some are going crazy because
everywhere they look,
is corruption, injustice,
and there is no grass.
We have astroturf now,
we burn candles that smell like trees and seawater,
because when we open our windows we don't smell the ocean anymore.
And we call them crazy —
those who miss the grass,
who long to see stars
instead of light pollution,
who miss the expanse of earth, instead of the expanse of city skylines.
They know that city lights don't compare to the sunrise,
that factory smoke and sacred fire
are not created equal,
that water is meant to drink,
to swim,
to pray,
without running through a filter.
We call them crazy for remembering,
for living in illusion,
for not charging forward
and clinging to old ways.
But they know:
We are the ones who lost
our sanity
our identity,
because we forgot our own mother.
We are Diné
We are Diné
11.28.2016 Turtle Island: We Are Diné
Courtney Cronis
We are Diné.
Turtle Island, before and after.
Turtle Island is sacred ground with many native ancestors buried there. Last Thursday the 24th of November, while water protectors peacefully crossed onto this sacred land and stood in prayer and ceremony, militarized police stood guard overhead — eating Thanksgiving dinner amongst themselves on the burial grounds of ancestors — and hosed the sides of the hill with water.
Water Protectors called up to them, saying they would go back across the river if they could please retreat from the hill, because it is sacred land. When they refused to talk, compromise, or even look at the people on the ground at the base of the hill, water protectors led by example and walked back across the river first, in a peaceful and respectful way.
The next day, barbed wire surrounded the island and the top of the hill, spotlights were added, canoes were smashed and left within the barbed wire so no one could remove them, but could still see them. The bridge was destroyed. Now the police constantly stand guard, watching unarmed water protectors from above, acting as a constant reminder that they are there and they are watching. When the sun sets, the spotlights get turned on — all 30+ of them — the planes fly overhead with their lights off, and water protectors gather and watch, still praying for them too and for their hearts to open.
On November 30, a handful of veterans that arrived at camp walked up to the blockade to speak to the police officers. They held their hands up to show they were unarmed, to which the reply was, "You are not allowed on the bridge. The signs clearly say that the bridge is closed, why do you have your hands up? What does that mean? Does it mean you don't know how to read? Does it mean that you can't read the signs? If you have something to say to us, call Morton County Sheriff's Department."
Hundreds of us water protectors all linked arms, chanted, marched, sang, prayed, ate, and loved together --both in town on the street, and on sacred lands. Then many of us met together at the Community School to have a huge feast. I was surrounded by family, by protectors, by love. So many people meet for the first time when they are linking arms against lines of riot police, or giving each other rides to camp or to town or the airport, or in the midst of prayer.
The camps at Oceti Sakowin are filled with yurts and thípis and other structures that indigenous people across the world have been successfully using to brave the winter for thousands of years. We all have been working hard to winterize and make sure the camps are safe, and they are. We have wood stoves and other sources of heat, we have sub zero winter supplies, and we have commitment to protecting this water and this land, and that's worth some discomfort.
On November 30, a handful of veterans that arrived at camp walked up to the blockade to speak to the police officers. They held their hands up to show they were unarmed, to which the reply was, "You are not allowed on the bridge. The signs clearly say that the bridge is closed, why do you have your hands up? What does that mean? Does it mean you don't know how to read? Does it mean that you can't read the signs? If you have something to say to us, call Morton County Sheriff's Department."