
First Nations activists and allies blocked the intersection of Yonge and Dundas Street in Toronto for almost three hours Friday October 23, 2020. The group called on the Canadian government to uphold treaty rights, respect indigenous sovereignty across the nation, and protect indigenous land defenders asserting their rights in various conflicts. (Photo: Nick Lachance/NurPhoto via Getty Images)
Thanksgiving Is Time for Reparations
"Though lives cannot be brought back, the only compensation for land is land."
It's Thanksgiving morning everywhere in America. Thanksgiving needs to mean something to Native people, preferably in the form of justice and reparations. Not a "thanks for taking" sort of commemoration. Maybe it's even time for a reconciliation with Mother Earth.
Here are some ideas. Consider the first thanksgiving with the Wampanoags, Pequots and the Pilgrims. After dining, there were beheadings of Native leaders and their heads were displayed on spikes for decades in Puritan towns. Fast forward to 2018 when the Trump administration issued a decision to remove the Wampanoag Cape Cod reservation from trust status, harkening back to the termination era.
But there is a chance to make good this Thanksgiving.
Beyond eating Native foods, like wild rice, traditional corn and our chocolate, perhaps we can talk about reparations and justice. This is about land -- it's already happening. Across the country, from sea to shining sea, land is being restored to Native people, and it's about time.
This past October, the Maine-based Elliotsville Foundation donated 735 acres of land to the Penobscot Nation, including the headwaters of the Pleasant River, a tributary to the Penobscot River, which is sacred to the tribe.
With the work of the Elliotsville Foundation, the Quimby family, which owns the foundation, along with nearly 50 other land trusts have joined together to form the First Light. This will help restore lands to Indigenous Peoples of the region.
A year ago, on Oct. 21, Tuluwat, known as Indian Island, was returned to the Wiyot Tribe of northern California, which is a good step toward reparations. In 1860, the Tuluwat or Indian Island massacre occurred, in which about 60 to 100 Wiyot peoples were killed.
Though lives cannot be brought back, the only compensation for land is land. "Land acknowledgements" and Indigenous Peoples' Day declarations are a start in the process.
Mount Rushmore, for example, is situated in the Black Hills, which used to belong to the Lakota people. As we watch the statues of white supremacists downed this year, it is also time for this national monument to shut down and be given back to Indigenous people.
The movement for the return of the Black Hills to its people is based on the foundational understanding that it was never for sale. The Black Hills were unilaterally taken after the treaty of 1868 from the Lakota. The Indian Claims Commission (ICC) found that the United States should pay $105 million for the land in 1981. That was then.
To date, the tribes have never taken the settlement, instead, arguing that the land should be returned. After all, if you steal something, you should return it. The ICC settlement money remains, and in July, Native organizers from the NDN Collective, launched a protest when President Trump came to the Black Hills. Much of the Black Hills -- the sacred Paha Sapa -- is in fact held by state and federal government agencies.
National Parks -- Glacier, Mesa Verde, Yosemite, Yellowstone, the Black Hills, to name a few -- are literally a stolen treasure chest from Native people.
It's a fact that the national parks and wildlife refuges hold more land than Native people, which is ironic and tragic. In the long arc of history, we find that enlightenment is still possible. And on this Thanksgiving, I am reminded that the brutality of history only finds redress in reparations and justice.
Urgent. It's never been this bad.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission from the outset was simple. To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It’s never been this bad out there. And it’s never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed and doing some of its best and most important work, the threats we face are intensifying. Right now, with just four days to go in our Spring Campaign, we are not even halfway to our goal. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Can you make a gift right now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? There is no backup plan or rainy day fund. There is only you. —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
Winona LaDuke is Anishinaabe, a writer, an economist and a hemp farmer. LaDuke is a leader in cultural-based sustainable development strategies, renewable energy, sustainable food systems and Indigenous rights. She is the owner of Winona's Hemp, which can be found online at winonashemp.com.
It's Thanksgiving morning everywhere in America. Thanksgiving needs to mean something to Native people, preferably in the form of justice and reparations. Not a "thanks for taking" sort of commemoration. Maybe it's even time for a reconciliation with Mother Earth.
Here are some ideas. Consider the first thanksgiving with the Wampanoags, Pequots and the Pilgrims. After dining, there were beheadings of Native leaders and their heads were displayed on spikes for decades in Puritan towns. Fast forward to 2018 when the Trump administration issued a decision to remove the Wampanoag Cape Cod reservation from trust status, harkening back to the termination era.
But there is a chance to make good this Thanksgiving.
Beyond eating Native foods, like wild rice, traditional corn and our chocolate, perhaps we can talk about reparations and justice. This is about land -- it's already happening. Across the country, from sea to shining sea, land is being restored to Native people, and it's about time.
This past October, the Maine-based Elliotsville Foundation donated 735 acres of land to the Penobscot Nation, including the headwaters of the Pleasant River, a tributary to the Penobscot River, which is sacred to the tribe.
With the work of the Elliotsville Foundation, the Quimby family, which owns the foundation, along with nearly 50 other land trusts have joined together to form the First Light. This will help restore lands to Indigenous Peoples of the region.
A year ago, on Oct. 21, Tuluwat, known as Indian Island, was returned to the Wiyot Tribe of northern California, which is a good step toward reparations. In 1860, the Tuluwat or Indian Island massacre occurred, in which about 60 to 100 Wiyot peoples were killed.
Though lives cannot be brought back, the only compensation for land is land. "Land acknowledgements" and Indigenous Peoples' Day declarations are a start in the process.
Mount Rushmore, for example, is situated in the Black Hills, which used to belong to the Lakota people. As we watch the statues of white supremacists downed this year, it is also time for this national monument to shut down and be given back to Indigenous people.
The movement for the return of the Black Hills to its people is based on the foundational understanding that it was never for sale. The Black Hills were unilaterally taken after the treaty of 1868 from the Lakota. The Indian Claims Commission (ICC) found that the United States should pay $105 million for the land in 1981. That was then.
To date, the tribes have never taken the settlement, instead, arguing that the land should be returned. After all, if you steal something, you should return it. The ICC settlement money remains, and in July, Native organizers from the NDN Collective, launched a protest when President Trump came to the Black Hills. Much of the Black Hills -- the sacred Paha Sapa -- is in fact held by state and federal government agencies.
National Parks -- Glacier, Mesa Verde, Yosemite, Yellowstone, the Black Hills, to name a few -- are literally a stolen treasure chest from Native people.
It's a fact that the national parks and wildlife refuges hold more land than Native people, which is ironic and tragic. In the long arc of history, we find that enlightenment is still possible. And on this Thanksgiving, I am reminded that the brutality of history only finds redress in reparations and justice.
Winona LaDuke is Anishinaabe, a writer, an economist and a hemp farmer. LaDuke is a leader in cultural-based sustainable development strategies, renewable energy, sustainable food systems and Indigenous rights. She is the owner of Winona's Hemp, which can be found online at winonashemp.com.
It's Thanksgiving morning everywhere in America. Thanksgiving needs to mean something to Native people, preferably in the form of justice and reparations. Not a "thanks for taking" sort of commemoration. Maybe it's even time for a reconciliation with Mother Earth.
Here are some ideas. Consider the first thanksgiving with the Wampanoags, Pequots and the Pilgrims. After dining, there were beheadings of Native leaders and their heads were displayed on spikes for decades in Puritan towns. Fast forward to 2018 when the Trump administration issued a decision to remove the Wampanoag Cape Cod reservation from trust status, harkening back to the termination era.
But there is a chance to make good this Thanksgiving.
Beyond eating Native foods, like wild rice, traditional corn and our chocolate, perhaps we can talk about reparations and justice. This is about land -- it's already happening. Across the country, from sea to shining sea, land is being restored to Native people, and it's about time.
This past October, the Maine-based Elliotsville Foundation donated 735 acres of land to the Penobscot Nation, including the headwaters of the Pleasant River, a tributary to the Penobscot River, which is sacred to the tribe.
With the work of the Elliotsville Foundation, the Quimby family, which owns the foundation, along with nearly 50 other land trusts have joined together to form the First Light. This will help restore lands to Indigenous Peoples of the region.
A year ago, on Oct. 21, Tuluwat, known as Indian Island, was returned to the Wiyot Tribe of northern California, which is a good step toward reparations. In 1860, the Tuluwat or Indian Island massacre occurred, in which about 60 to 100 Wiyot peoples were killed.
Though lives cannot be brought back, the only compensation for land is land. "Land acknowledgements" and Indigenous Peoples' Day declarations are a start in the process.
Mount Rushmore, for example, is situated in the Black Hills, which used to belong to the Lakota people. As we watch the statues of white supremacists downed this year, it is also time for this national monument to shut down and be given back to Indigenous people.
The movement for the return of the Black Hills to its people is based on the foundational understanding that it was never for sale. The Black Hills were unilaterally taken after the treaty of 1868 from the Lakota. The Indian Claims Commission (ICC) found that the United States should pay $105 million for the land in 1981. That was then.
To date, the tribes have never taken the settlement, instead, arguing that the land should be returned. After all, if you steal something, you should return it. The ICC settlement money remains, and in July, Native organizers from the NDN Collective, launched a protest when President Trump came to the Black Hills. Much of the Black Hills -- the sacred Paha Sapa -- is in fact held by state and federal government agencies.
National Parks -- Glacier, Mesa Verde, Yosemite, Yellowstone, the Black Hills, to name a few -- are literally a stolen treasure chest from Native people.
It's a fact that the national parks and wildlife refuges hold more land than Native people, which is ironic and tragic. In the long arc of history, we find that enlightenment is still possible. And on this Thanksgiving, I am reminded that the brutality of history only finds redress in reparations and justice.

