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The National Native American Boarding School Healing Coalition (NABS) will stop in Rochester, New York, from May 19–23, 2025, as part of its Oral History Project. The project invites survivors of Indian boarding schools to share their personal stories through professional video interviews. These interviews will become part of a permanent collection at the Library of Congress, ensuring that the voices of survivors are preserved for future generations.
This effort is a crucial part of the U.S. Department of the Interior’s Federal Indian Boarding School Initiative, which seeks to document and acknowledge the painful history of the boarding school system. NABS aims to create a space where survivors can feel empowered and supported as they share their experiences, fostering healing through storytelling.
Survivors who attended a federally supported Indian boarding school before 1970 are encouraged to participate. “We are honored to gather with our relatives in the East Coast, to honor and recognize their voices, to preserve their stories, and this history,” Samuel Torres, NABS deputy CEO and Oral History Project senior director (Mexica/Nahua), was quoted as saying in a NABS press release. He added, “We will ensure that every survivor who engages with our project is met with the utmost care, compassion, and respect throughout the entire process.”
The event will be held at the Hyatt Regency Rochester. Those interested in registering can visit <a href="https://www.tfaforms.com/5092936">https://www.tfaforms.com/5092936</a> or call 651-650-4445.
The Oral History Project will continue later in the year with stops in Wisconsin, Oregon, South Dakota, New Mexico and Arizona.
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East Coast boarding school survivors invited to share their experiences

Senior Reporter

Brian Bull

As the late afternoon sun began to sink behind the treeline on May 7, dozens of people gathered in Springfield, Oregon’s Heron Park to commemorate the thousands of women and girls who’ve gone missing or been murdered through the generations. Red dresses hung from the branches to symbolize the many Native sisters, mothers, daughters and aunties who’ve vanished or been killed. 
Many cases remain unsolved, with advocates urging law enforcement and lawmakers to do more.  
The fifth annual Poetry in the Park is a joint effort between Illioo Native Theater and the University of Oregon’s Native American and Indigenous Studies Academic Residential Community (NAIARC). Most participants are current students of the university, and they’ve donned red garments and face paint, often in the shape of a hand across the mouth to represent those whose voices have been silenced. 
Held on the first Wednesday of May, the poetry event sometimes follows the national MMIP day of awareness (May 5), but organizer Marta Lu Clifford said it’s a date that enables the NAIARC students to participate and serve as the main readers. And all of the poems are written by Indigenous women.
“It’s very spiritual and personal,” said Clifford, recognizing the efforts of the students. “It’s helping them to learn their voice to bring awareness to the problem.”
Clifford explained that she got the idea for this event after <a href="https://www.jaimeblackartist.com/exhibitions/">seeing an installation</a> at the National Museum of the American Indian by Red River Métis artist Jaime Black in 2019. 
“My vision was seeing the dresses hanging in trees somewhere in Lane County — Springfield or Eugene.”
Clifford says many tribes believe that red is the only color spirits can see, and that they’re drawn to events like this one.
“When we first hang up the dresses, the dresses are empty,” said Clifford. “But always when we first hang them up, they start moving. That’s one of the powerful things of the ceremony, is to see the dresses in the wind with the spirit in them. I feel that’s the spirits of the missing and murdered women coming back to see what we’re doing.”
On this particular night, the dresses in Heron Park swayed non-stop. Strong and constant gusts kept them animated, as a small group of readers traveled in a circuit among several trees, accompanied by two young men with hand drums. A crowd of roughly 70 people followed, as poems by Clifford, Joy Harjo, Tanaya Winder, and others were shared.
Ericka Grunlose, a Colville tribal member who’s studying education and Native American studies at the University of Oregon, helped recite <a href="http://www.our-story.ca/winners/writing/6443:i-am-10-years-old">“I am 10 Years Old”</a> by Astokomii Smith. It describes the short life of a Native girl named Natalia who’s abducted, raped and murdered by a non-Native man “with the gentlest smile.” 
“I actually cried the first time I read this,” Grunlose said. “As another Native woman myself, I just really felt it in my heart.”
Grunlose said the organizers asked her if she wanted to switch poems, but after talking with her mother, she felt she had the strength to share it “to remember all of our lost, stolen sisters.”
Joining the young women was Pachomio Feliz, a Yurok from northern California.  Holding a rawhide drum and sporting a bright red hand painted across his mouth, Feliz said he’s been greatly affected by the <a href="https://www.klcc.org/crime-law-justice/2022-02-21/the-case-of-emilee-rislings-disappearance-has-relatives-and-mmiw-advocates-calling-for-greater-attention-and-better-data-collection">disappearance of Emmilee Risling</a>, who was a fellow resident of the Yurok reservation. An accomplished student leader, Hoopa Valley tribal dancer, and 2014 graduate of the University of Oregon, Risling later struggled with her mental health and disappeared in October 2021.
“She disappeared just a few feet away from my village, from my reservation,” said Feliz. “I knew Emmilee, I know the family. It’s definitely caused a lot of hurt and suffering happening right now back home.”  
The theme of Indigenous women and girls being targeted for harassment, fondling, assault, rape and murder is underscored by troubling statistics that show this group is disproportionately at risk for being targeted.
Government data shows that over 84 percent of American Indian and Alaska Native women <a href="https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC11570978/#bib4">experience some form of violence</a> in their lifetime. And murder rates for them are more than ten times the national average in some counties and overall, nearly three times that of white women. 
The poem read by Mykeisha Yepa, an architecture student who’s a member of the Jicarilla Apache, evoked feelings of persecution and being hunted. Marilyn Dumont’s “<a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/147310/helen-betty-osborne">Helen Betty Osborne</a>” is about a 19-year-old Cree girl in Manitoba who was abducted and murdered in November 1971. A group of four men emerged as suspects a few months later, but the case took 16 years to go to trial, and only one of the suspects ended up being convicted of the crime.   
“It’s the metaphor of ‘open season’ and how much women are preyed upon,” said Yepa, reflecting on the poem’s impact. “It’s like hunting season for women.”
Yepa said events like the Poetry in the Park ceremony are important because they spread awareness of the MMIP crisis.  
Christina Thomas, a member of the Confederated Tribes of the Warm Springs who’s studying human anatomy, physiology and chemistry — as well as minoring in Native Studies — agreed. The poem she read, “All the Broken People Have Ceremony” was penned by another Oregon Native, Tracie Meyer of the Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde.
“The poem was really intense, it brought up a lot of emotions,” said Thomas. “But it’s really important that we read these poems and bring awareness to such a huge issue that affects all of us.”
After the last poem was shared, an honor song was performed, and Clifford handed all the participants red roses for their help. Acknowledging that the content could trigger grief and traumatic feelings for some, the students stayed around in case  anyone wanted to come forward and privately talk through their experiences.
Organizers said while the event was to observe Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women’s Day, all Native people affected by violence, abuse, kidnapping and trafficking — including two-spirit people and men — were being honored.
As the sun set and people began to relax, mingle and laugh amongst each other, Clifford reclined in a lawn chair before preparing to pack up for the night. The dusky glow lit up the red dresses with an unearthly vibrancy, as they continued to sway in the breeze. 
“I just hope this continues for many, many years,” Clifford said. “Even when I can’t walk between the trees, I’ll still be here.”

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Native university students share poetry, songs to honor MMIP victims and survivors

 Director of Research

Teresa Trumbly Lamsam, Ph.D.

As we report on the ongoing crisis of murdered and missing Indigenous peoples, we are intentional in how we frame this issue. At Buffalo’s Fire, we use the term Peoples to emphasize that this is not just a crisis of individuals — it is a crisis that impacts nations, families and communities.
Language matters.
Using Peoples keeps the focus on:
<ul>
<li>Our status as sovereign nations, not just demographic groups</li>
<li>The intergenerational and communal impact of this crisis</li>
<li>The wide scope of who is affected — including women, men, two-spirit individuals, children and elders across multiple nations</li>
</ul>
This broader framing is consistent with how Native communities increasingly describe this crisis. Terms like Murdered and Missing Indigenous Relatives (MMIR) are also being used to resist erasure and to affirm that this is about both the individuals lost and the violence experienced across our nations.

Why we use ‘Murdered and Missing Indigenous Peoples’ at Buffalo’s Fire

Faces of the disappeared and dead stared from posters and fliers inside a communal area of the Native American Rehabilitation Association of the Northwest last Saturday. As toddlers sat on the floor and played with action figures and video games, their caretakers took turns standing before the crowd of roughly 100 people — many dressed in red — to share memories.
Dorethy Yahtin, who’s of Warm Springs and Yakama heritage, shared the story of her son, Cecil Yahtin, who was murdered by a cousin in January 2024 in Portland’s Hazelwood area. She also talked of losing siblings under suspicious circumstances, including her little brother, Timothy Yahtin. He died in 2013 of injuries after falling off a deck in Lewiston, Idaho. She told the audience that it was no accident, that she believes a group of people shoved him to his death.
Destiny Elliott, of the Hopeland Band of Pomo Indians, spoke of losing her sister, Sascha, to a head-on collision with another driver in December 2022.  
“I’d talked to her five minutes before,” she recalled, her voice shaky. “She was hit in the opposite lane. He was speeding to get wherever he needed to go and hit her head-on. She died instantly. Her car was totaled.”   
Elliott said there wasn’t sufficient evidence, or enough jury members, to try the other driver on manslaughter charges. “He’s well known in the community, he hides behind them,” she said. “I don’t want him to spend his whole life in prison, I just want him to be accountable.”
Other Native people stood and shared stories of loved ones who vanished or were violently taken from them. All the while, large monitors behind the speakers displayed current and resolved MMIP cases from across the Pacific Northwest. 
More faces. More loss.
It was the first event organized by MMIW Search and Hope Alliance, founded by Kimberly Lining in July 2024. Of Navajo and Hopi heritage, Lining told Buffalo’s Fire that she became involved with the MMIW issue while vacationing in the Flathead Lake area of Montana after her best friend was murdered by her boyfriend.
“When that happened, I thought: ‘What can I do to just get in this community and start to change things?’ And it turned into this,” explained Lining, who had also been troubled by stories of Native women disappearing from across the state. 
In the months since, MMIW Search and Hope Alliance has coordinated searches across Oregon and done its best to recruit volunteers. The group has worked with local law enforcement, acknowledging that advocacy never quite ends.
“There are currently no special funding programs for MMIP efforts,” Lining told the audience. “There’s a glaring lack of media coverage when Indigenous individuals go missing or murdered. Justice for our people is often delayed or denied.”
Lining shared a common challenge for many MMIP/MMIW advocates and tribal communities: databases among different law enforcement agencies are often inconsistent, and many cases are either outdated or misidentify victims’ races, genders or tribal affiliations.”
Lining’s group says there are currently 28 open MMIP cases in Oregon, and 111 in neighboring Washington,“some unsolved for decades.”
Besides surviving relatives, people who help track cases also spoke. 
Amy Walcott of the nonprofit group Oregon’s Vanished talked of the dangers of human trafficking in the region. “We focus a lot on the foster kids,” she began. “Too many times when one disappears, people say, ‘Oh they just ran away.’ No Amber alerts, no news coverage. The search just stops there.”
Walcott warned that people too often judge foster kids as being troublemakers, which makes them vulnerable to predators. “Traffickers know which kids won’t be missed, which kids won’t make headlines, which kids don’t have families that’ll look for them.” 
According to the non-profit organization Oregon’s Vanished, 160 kids under the age of 19 have gone missing in Multnomah County alone. Altogether, there are 745 in Oregon. 
“These aren’t just statistics,” Walcott said. “These are Oregon’s children. We have to find these kids.”
Other topics included domestic violence and sexual abuse. An <a href="https://cde-prd-data.s3.us-gov-east-1.amazonaws.com/reports/Violence%20Against%20American%20Indian%20or%20Alaska%20Native%20Females%202021-2023.pdf">FBI report </a>that tracked data between 2021 and 2023 showed perpetrators in violent crimes against American Indian or Alaska Native women were largely intimate partners. These spouses, ex-spouses or romantic partners committed 61.6% of documented murder incidents, 69% of aggravated assault cases, 53.9% of intimidation and 40.6% of rape reports.  
“If you’re the one being violent, get help,” said Lining. “Unfortunately there’s a desensitization in our nation, and what happens is people don’t know how to control these feelings. And for the people that are victims, you&#8217;re not alone. We hear you, we see you, and we’re here to provide help and safe haven.”
Along the edges of the gathering space were tables offering services and support. Sabrina Griffith, a member of the Confederated Tribes of Siletz Indians, helped staff a table for Lining’s organization. MMIP/MMIW shirts and red-and-black beaded earrings covered the table, on sale to help fund their search efforts.  
“I just really want people to know that this is very important, and we need to bring our sisters home,” said Griffith. She pointed to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61570344724245">Ampkwa Advocacy</a>, an MMIP group launched by Native activist and photographer Amanda Freeman, based in the community of the Confederated Tribes of the Grand Ronde, as a local example of what she’s hoping to start with her own tribe. Besides offering culturally oriented support services, Ampkwa Advocacy also has its own board.
“We are trying to get out as much as they are,” she said. “I would like to do the same with Siletz, and get our tribe more involved. I’d like to have a committee.”
By lunch time, just over 100 people were gathered in the NARA NW space. They sat in rows of chairs adorned with red hand prints, which symbolize MMIP cases. Attendees brought in portraits of victims, and more than a few tears were shed.
In the far corner, a drum group played honor songs for the missing and murdered relatives. A small display on a nearby table featured red paper hands on which people could write names of those they wished to find or get closure on or perhaps say a prayer for.
“The encouragement is that you’re not alone,” said Lining. “If your family member were to go missing, I would help you look for them. We are here. We’re not going anywhere, and we’re providing hope for communities and marginalized people and the Native people. And we want to bridge gaps. It’s completely possible.”

MMIP organization holds first annual gathering for victims’ families, advocates

Brenna Gerhardt received an email in the middle of the night on April 2 informing her that a $900,000 grant for Humanities North Dakota for the 2025 fiscal year had been terminated effective immediately. 
“This email did not come from a government account,” said Gerhardt, Humanities North Dakota&#8217;s executive director. “It came from a private Microsoft account, but it was sent by DOGE and signed by the chair of the National Endowment for the Humanities.” 
Gerhardt says the loss of the $900,000 represents 80% of HND’s budget. 
“The NEH has not been in contact with us since that time,” she added. “They&#8217;ve gone silent, and it&#8217;s deeply concerning, because Congress is supposed to set the budget. That&#8217;s why we have checks and balances. That&#8217;s really important.”
Humanities North Dakota is a non-profit organization that started in 1973. Like many other humanities organizations across the U.S., the elimination of funds follows President Donald Trump’s directive to slash federal funds to streamline the budget. Altogether, $65 million awarded to 56 humanities groups across the nation <a href="https://www.statehumanities.org/trump-proposes-elimination-of-neh/">has been canceled</a>. This has left museums, historical societies, libraries and cultural programs in a lurch.
“Every year, we serve tens of thousands of North Dakotans through a variety of programs and partnerships,” said Gerhardt. Humanities North Dakota’s staff has four full-time and two part-time workers, who generate a number of courses and outreach projects. 
“We have a weekly newspaper column written by a constitutional scholar that helps educate people. We have Dakota Datebook on Prairie Public, and then we have online classes and events, as well as in-person events that we host throughout the state.”
These offerings give North Dakotans continued access to educational opportunities, “because democracy demands thoughtful and informed citizens,” Gerhardt said.
In late April, the Mellon Foundation announced it was providing a $15 million emergency funding grant to the Federation of State Humanities Councils to help offset the loss of federal funding. That’s provided $200,000 to Humanities North Dakota. Private donors have contributed an additional $100,000. Through <a href="https://www.humanitiesnd.org/donate">online donations</a>, HND Humanities can also receive up to $50,000 in matching funds from the Mellon Foundation.
Gerhardt told Buffalo’s Fire that she’ll keep pursuing grants. “I&#8217;m hoping that will expand our donor base and my access to large foundations, because North Dakota doesn&#8217;t have the philanthropic environment that more densely populated states enjoy. So it&#8217;s going to be a challenge, but it&#8217;s one that we&#8217;re up for.”
With only about a third of its original funding, Humanities North Dakota says it’ll keep fighting to keep the lights on and make a wide variety of scholars available to its audience. Last year, courses and events reached 24,000 people.
One of the more popular courses is taught by Michael Barthelemy, director of Native American Studies at Nueta Hidatsa Sahnish College in New Town, North Dakota. “History, Culture, and Customs of the Nueta and Hidatsa: A Case Study into Native America” is a 16-week class that Barthelemy teaches remotely from home. 
Gerhardt said 150 people have taken the course. “Just the sheer amount of students that we had sign up for the course was really revealing in that this is a topic that people care about,” he said.
On any given week, Barthelemy figures he has a core of 40-60 students. But those who miss a class can log in to Humanities North Dakota and watch archived videos. 
“We&#8217;re talking a lot about history, culture and customs, so we&#8217;re reorienting the lens around an Indigenous perspective,” said Barthelemy. “And this is kind of a big reason why the creation of Native American studies as a field occurred…it&#8217;s really the wedded relationship between history, anthropology, archeology, geography, with the interjection of Indigenous oral history and perspective.”
It’s Indigenous history and perspective that’s given Barthelemy a positive outlook, in spite of the turmoil and disruption caused by the Trump administration. While he acknowledges there’s uncertainty in terms of projects and other initiatives down the line following the funding cuts, being a historian helps him cut through the dour narrative that things have never been so bad.
“Maybe it&#8217;s because I am the descendant of people who lived through everything,” said Barthelemy. “But I’m incredibly optimistic. I think we’re going to be OK. I think that we’ll get through it, but it’ll be only through our labor that things will change, things will happen.”
Meanwhile, North Dakota House Rep. Karla Rose Hanson said she tried in committee to bump up the amount of a proposed state grant for Humanities North Dakota’s “We the People” program — from $70,000 to $180,000 — to help offset the loss of federal funds. She was unable to get that increase approved. As someone who’s enjoyed many of the organization’s programs, she said, she was “deeply disappointed” with the cuts announced in April.  
Alex Finken, the state communications director for U.S. Sen. John Hoeven of North Dakota, told Buffalo’s Fire that they’ve been in touch with Gerhardt and have contacted the National Endowment for the Humanities and Senate Appropriations Committee for additional information.
Gerhardt said Humanities North Dakota will continue the fight and may join a lawsuit with other affected organizations. “If we allow this defunding to stand, we&#8217;re sending a message that truth doesn&#8217;t matter, free thought isn&#8217;t worth public investment.” 
On the contrary, she said, “We believe all Americans deserve access to their history and to their civic story.”

Humanities North Dakota gets a lifeline, but at a fraction of its former funding

Today, May 5, Buffalo’s Fire is red in honor of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Persons Awareness Day. This day raises awareness about the epidemic of violence against Indigenous peoples—especially women, girls, men and Two-Spirit individuals—who go missing or are murdered at disproportionately high rates across North America.
<h3>Why red?</h3>
Red has become a national symbol of the MMIP movement. It represents both the silence that has surrounded these injustices and the call for visibility, justice and systemic change.
Wearing red is a powerful act of remembrance and solidarity.
<h3 data-start="680" data-end="713">Today, we honor and remember:</h3>
Renzo Bullhead, 20, American Indian male. Last seen on March 16, 2025. Height: 5&#8217;11&#8221; | Weight: 180 lbs | Eyes: Brown | Hair: Black Investigating agency: Mandan Police Department – (701) 667-3250
Isaac James Hunt, 28, American Indian male. Last seen on March 8, 2024. Height: 5&#8217;9&#8243; | Weight: 180 lbs | Eyes: Brown | Hair: Black Investigating agency: BIA Turtle Mountain Agency – (701) 477-6104
Jemini Posey, 22, American Indian female. Last seen on January 7, 2024. Height: 4&#8217;7&#8243; | Weight: 120 lbs | Eyes: Blue | Hair: Blonde or strawberry Investigating agency: BIA Fort Totten Agency – (701) 766-4231
Xia Bravebull, 36, American Indian female. Last heard from on March 22, 2025. Found Deceased on May 4, 2025. 
Weight: 150 lbs | Eyes: Brown | Hair: Black 
We extend our deepest condolences to her family, friends and community. 
We speak their names. We stand with their families. We call for answers, justice and protection for all Indigenous relatives.
Buffalo’s Fire is red today to honor Missing and Murdered Indigenous Persons and to stand with the families still searching for their loved ones.
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Why Buffalo’s Fire was red for one day

External

With North Dakota reporting its first measles case since 2011, local health authorities are bracing for further spread as outbreaks of the highly infectious disease increase across the country.
The case appeared in an unvaccinated child in Williams County who authorities believe contracted the disease from an out-of-state visitor.
North Dakota health authorities state the child is being isolated at home to contain spread of the virus and attempting to trace anyone unvaccinated who has been in contact with the child.
As of May 2, the Centers for Disease Control confirmed 935 measles cases, up from 884 known cases a week before. A total of 121 people have been hospitalized nationwide with 3 deaths confirmed.
Now that Minnesota and Montana have confirmed cases, it is only a matter of time – or one plane ride away – for cases to appear in North Dakota, health experts say.
“That’s a term we’re using a lot right now, one plane ride away, whether they’re coming from overseas where there’s a lot of measles, or Texas,” said Kylie Hall, operations director of the North Dakota State University Department of Public Health Center for Immunization Research and Education (CIRE) in Fargo.
Besides Texas, with the majority of cases at nearly 700, outbreak clusters have sprouted in New Mexico, Ohio, Kansas, Indiana and Michigan.
What worries local healthcare providers and officials about the current nationwide spread is it comes at a time when vaccination rates have declined for infants and kindergarteners to a point where community spread will likely occur.
<h3>Declining vaccination rates</h3>
Current North Dakota kindergartener rates of MMR vaccination, which protects against measles, mumps and rubella, have declined from a 2019-2020 high of 94.75% down to a current 89.98% rate.
For comparison, the latest coverage rates in Texas where the largest outbreak is centered were at 94.35%, higher than North Dakota’s current rate.
Having a rate at or close to 95% provides for “herd immunity,” according to healthcare providers, and numbers below that create stronger conditions for community spread.
“We have truly no chance of hitting our 95% goal for measles right now,” said Jenny Galbraith, adult immunization manager at the North Dakota Department of Health and Human Services.
“Measles is our most infectious disease that we have to deal with day to day, and if you’re an unvaccinated individual who comes into contact with someone with measles you have a 90% chance of turning around and getting measles yourself,” Galbraith said.
Infants between 19 and 35 months of age currently have an 80.9% MMR vaccination rate in the state, a figure that slightly declined from an 81.4 percent rate in early 2022.
“What&#8217;s really sad about it is, I think because of the power of immunization, we have a society of parents and people in general who don&#8217;t remember what vaccine preventable diseases look like and how horrible they are, and they take lives and change lives,” said Dr. Joan Connell, a pediatrician at the UND Center for Family Medicine in Bismarck.
Spread could be particularly problematic in pockets of North Dakota where MMR vaccination rates for children at kindergarten age are much lower than average.
Sheridan County has the lowest MMR vaccination rate at around 57%, followed by 59% in Grant, 66% in Billings, 70% in McKenzie, and 70% in Logan counties.
The highest measles vaccination rates are in the northeastern part of the state and include Steele and Benson, with 100% coverage.
Populous counties like Cass, Burleigh and Grand Forks counties are all below herd immunity status with 92%, 88% and 91% of kindergarteners vaccinated in those localities.
Hall said both the lower vaccination rates and the amount of measles spreading in the country have increased concern, a departure from a year ago when rates were about the same but cases were limited.
“Now we’re at the point where we have multiple outbreaks of uncontrolled spread of the disease,” Hall said. “Really, it’s just a matter of time before we see a case.”
Since measles is known to spread through the air and can remain in a room and on surfaces for up to two hours, sometimes even traveling between floors through ventilation systems, one concern is that clinics that do not have negative pressure rooms to isolate cases could facilitate the spread.
“Most clinics don&#8217;t have a negative pressure room,” Galbraith said.
Hospitals in the state have 238 negative pressure rooms, she said, but the data doesn’t distinguish between adult and pediatric negative pressure rooms.
“There are likely very few of those in our state,” she said of pediatric negative pressure rooms.
Getting patients who display signs of measles isolated quickly is key to limit spread, since a room would need to be sealed off for at least two hours before someone can go back in and sterilize it, she said.
Catching those cases could be difficult, however.
“A lot of times kids affected with measles don’t develop the rash until typically like day four,” Hall said.
Those kids might have coughs, runny nose, red eyes or symptoms of a typical respiratory disease, and be brought into a clinic not knowing they have measles, potentially infecting others who are unvaccinated in the clinic at the same time, she said.
Hall is also concerned about hospital capacity and the lack of negative pressure rooms, particularly in a pediatric setting.
“Because it&#8217;s airborne, the air in that room cannot be shared with other patients. So you need specific types of rooms,” Hall said. “Even if it was 10 or 20 cases, you know, in a short time, you might need two, three, four or five of those rooms at any given time.”
Galbraith said her department is working with local health care providers to remind people who are not up to date on their measles vaccinations to do so, as well as discussing plans for what to do if a measles case comes into their clinic.
“It&#8217;s really infectious, so even if someone going into like a waiting room can wreak havoc, get a lot of people sick,” she said. “So we’re preparing for the possibility, in hopes that even if we do have a case introduced, we can really minimize it, and we won&#8217;t end up in a Texas situation where it really seems to be spreading out of control.”
<h3>Vaccine skepticism rises</h3>
An uptick in vaccine skepticism following the Covid pandemic as well as more vocal opponents of vaccines are widely seen as the reason for the decline.
Those declining to have children vaccinated for personal or religious beliefs in North Dakota have also increased.
Personal belief exemptions increased from 1.2 per 100 children in 2011-2012 up to a current 4.36 rate. Religious exemptions – which were nearly zero in 2011-2012 – have also risen to a rate of 2.36 out of 100.
A poll from leading healthcare information provider KFF released April 23 found a 15% increase over the past year in the number of adults reporting to have heard or read false claims that measles vaccination is more dangerous than being infected by measles.
The KFF poll also found an increasing number of people are confused about the false claim that MMR vaccines were proven to cause autism, with at least half of adults polled expressing some uncertainty.
Dr. Faisal Siddiqui, a pediatrician at St. Alexius Health Neonatal Clinic in Bismarck said he believes some of the anti-vaccination messages get spread through social media and kind of overwhelm the message that vaccinations for something like measles actually work.
“We see a lot of parents who end up coming to us with refusals, but if you give them the proper education, appropriate resources, good data and point them towards data that is authentic, real and scientifically proven, most of them end up changing their thoughts and we are able to get them vaccinated,” Siddiqui said.
Connell said she hoped parents could become more well versed on interpreting medical literature and understanding what are quality studies and what are not.
“I think what we’re seeing is these low-quality studies, with a low number of patients, and low validity, and people are taking the conclusions of those and making major healthcare decisions,” Connell said.
“They’ve been able to do that because their kids aren’t dying from vaccine preventable diseases or losing their sight or hearing, but that is going to change,” Connell said. “It’s just very sad for me, I never thought that at the twilight of my career I’d be seeing more sickness in kids, and that’s a reality for me now.”
A Stanford University study published in the leading medical journal JAMA predicted that measles could become endemic over the next 25 years if the current declining vaccination rates continue, leading to hundreds of thousands of cases nationwide.
A decline of 10 percent more in MRR vaccinations could lead to millions of cases, the study found.
“Every parent wants to be able to say that they did the very best that they could for their child,” Connell said. “My heart just already bleeds for those parents who made decisions to not vaccinate based on a poorly constructed case report that they put all their weight and belief in.”

Michael Standaert

State reports first measles case amidst declining vaccination rates

Indigenous Democracy Reporter

Adrianna Adame

The historic journey of the small but culturally potent dentalium shells from the ocean floor of the Pacific Northwest to the Great Plains is complex. It’s a story that sheds light on the intricate trade routes that once thrived across the continent, including the Mandan trade center along the Heart River near Bismarck.
The Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara nations centered across three regions along the Missouri River, forming the most crucial trade complex in what is now considered the Midwest. The Arikara established themselves at the Grand River complex, the Mandan situated themselves around the Heart River and the Hidatsa formed a hub along the Knife River.
Along this trade network, dentalium shells, prized for embellishment and adornment, found their way into the lives of women from Native nations, including in the present-day Midwest.
<h3>The Mandan&#8217;s commercial empire</h3>
The Mandan formed a trade hub at the confluence of the Missouri and Heart rivers, establishing a string of large villages along the Missouri with as many as 15,000 by 1450. The bustling hub became known as the “Marketplace of the Central Plains,” and the Mandan created what was to be the forerunner of the trading posts that came later to the area, exchanging their abundant harvests of corn and other agricultural products.
Michael Barthelemy, director of Native American Studies at Nueta Hidatsa Sahnish College, says the three tribes were at the epicenter of trade in the Upper Missouri. He has been studying the history of the U.S. West with a focus on the Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara. The tribes had intricate linkages between one another, he said, which can be seen in the movement of traded goods.
“We have copper coming in from the Ohio River Valley, pipestone coming in from Minnesota, dentalium, of course, coming from the Northwest to where we&#8217;re situated along the Missouri River,” said Barthelemy. “We also have abalone shells coming in from California. And so you have this really extensive trade network.”
<h3>Following the Shell Trade</h3>
Paul Picha, the former chief archaeologist in the Archaeology and Historic Preservation Division at the State Historical Society of North Dakota, conducted research at the Knife River Indian Villages, a former Mandan and Hidatsa trading hub. Dentalium was traded at least as early as 1400, according to Picha. “Those Northwest Coast groups would gather those shells probably by the thousands or tens of thousands,” Picha said.
By 1800, there was a fair amount of dentalium on the Great Plains. “We do know those trade route systems of Pacific Ocean shells, like dentalium, abalone and mother-of-pearl, made their way through North Dakota throughout the 19th century,” Picha said.
Indigenous groups from the Pacific Northwest, primarily around the Vancouver Island region, would harvest dentalium.
“Tribes on the Northwest coast would gather it, clean it and prepare it, then come eastwards with it,” said Dakota Wind Goodhouse, a Native American Studies and U.S. History instructor at United Tribes Technical College. “Some tribes like the Clatsop would ascend the Columbia River and they would reach a secondary trade area, like an intertribal rendezvous point.”
Travelers might trade off dentalium to the Nimíipuu, or the Nez Perce, who would ascend the Snake River. From there, the Nez Perce would come to the Great Plains. “I don’t know if they came every year, but they came with some regularity that they’re familiar with our landscape,” Goodhouse said.
Another passage dentalium would have taken is through Yellowstone Country. Goodhouse said the likeliest trade route before going down the Missouri River would have been through the Yellowstone River, which is also known as the Elk River to the Lakota, Crow, Blackfeet, Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara. Other tribal intermediaries, such as the Crow, Lakota, Blackfeet, Cheyenne, Assiniboine, Ojibwe and Cree traded the shell across regional centers.
<h3>When Women Controlled the Trade</h3>
The exchange of dentalium contributed to economic success in trading villages. Now preserved as the Knife River Indian Villages National Historic Site, located near Stanton, North Dakota, the village sites here were most prosperous in the 1700s, before the end of the Plains Era.
The trading hub ran under a village economy, characterized by an agricultural-based society. The Mandan and Hidatsa grew their food in the rich floodplain, which made agriculture the center of their economy. Women raised corn, beans, squash and sunflowers, while men hunted bison, deer and small game for meat, hides, bones and sinew. Natives residing there lived in earth lodge villages along the Knife River. Pre-colonization, women played a significant role in the economic side of society.
For the Mandan and Hidatsa people, “women are the ones who own the property and are dictating a lot of these trades from behind the scenes,” Barthelemy said. “Men are the ones that are engaged in this trade in a one-on-one manner. You have this acquisition of foreign trade goods brought within the household.”
With more European fur traders appearing in areas such as the Knife River Indian Villages after 1750, the people residing in those villages began to diversify in culture. Hidatsa and Mandan were the most common languages, but there were also Lakota, English, French and German speakers. But long before those other cultures arrived, the Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara people had established these thriving trading centers.
<h3>The Network Unravels</h3>
The smallpox epidemics of 1781 and 1837 brought all of that to a halt, wiping out around 90% of the Mandan people and 60% of the Hidatsa and leading to a collapse of the region’s trading centers. Consequently, “1781 leads to the abandonment of the Heart River complex by the Mandan, moving north in close proximity to the Hidatsa,” said Barthelemy. “It&#8217;s also this abandoning of an earlier Arikara complex, moving in and solidifying around the Grand River region.
“We have to keep in mind these are just but two of the epidemics that are moving like shockwaves across these trade networks. And with the loss of population comes a weakening of the dominance within the interior region.”
Compounding the situation was the Arikara War of 1823, a conflict fought between the U.S. and the Arikara after an attack on fur traders from the Rocky Mountain Fur Company. The combination of disease, war, and, later, assimilation would impact and eventually put an end to the trade routes.
Trade still continued in villages like Knife River until Native peoples were forced into reservations in the 19th century. Nonetheless, dentalium has remained a part of American Indian culture, but an entirely new trade route has emerged. Shells are no longer mass-harvested from the Pacific Northwest, but this time, they arrive in artists&#8217; hands from the Arabian Sea.
<h3>More Than Money</h3>
Despite changing supply chains and rising costs, dentalium continues to hold deep cultural significance, serving as a symbol of resilience and a connection to Indigenous heritage. Interestingly, many of the ancient trade routes that carried these shells across the continent align with modern transportation corridors, a testament to the enduring importance of these pathways in facilitating human connection and exchange.
Nowadays, dentalium is available for purchase mainly online. Most sellers buy their stock from India and across Southeast Asia rather than locally due to limited availability in the American Northwest. But even as supply chains change and prices rise, people continue to wear dentalium today because of its symbolism, history and cultural pride.
&#8220;Dentalium, when you see it among members, [signifies] wealth and prominence,&#8221; said Barthelemy. &#8220;And it&#8217;s not really wealth and prominence in the way that you think about it in the Western society — it&#8217;s more so they&#8217;re showcasing their affiliation with the community.&#8221;
The journey of dentalium shells across the continent illuminates a sophisticated network of Indigenous trade that predated European arrival. &#8220;Oftentimes people become a little confused in the idea that, oh, Europeans created this trade network, but, no, they&#8217;ve just interjected themselves in this existing network among tribes,&#8221; said Barthelemy.
This understanding reshapes the predominant view of early North American commerce, revealing Indigenous peoples not just as participants in trade but as its architects. Today, each dentalium shell serves as a reminder of these ancient pathways and the complex societies that created them.

The journey of dentalium: Tracing ancient trade routes along the Upper Missouri

Staff Documenter

Alicia Hegland-Thorpe

Artist and entrepreneur Tipiziwin Tolman, or Yellow Lodge Woman, is Wičhíyena Dakȟóta and Húŋkpapȟa Lakȟóta from the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe. She started making dentalium earrings about 14 years ago, when she was a single mother attending college and needed gas money, diapers and food. At that time, it was hard to save enough money to get her materials: $100 would buy 1,000 of the 3- to 4 1⁄2-inch dentalium shells from a trading post in Rapid City, South Dakota.
“Coming from the ‘rez’, that was a lot for me to save up to get those shells,” she recalls. Today, as an adjunct faculty member and doctoral student at Washington State University, she’s come a long way from those days, but crafting original dentalium jewelry is still a part of her life.
Tolman says she was drawn to work with dentalium after seeing pictures of her great-grandmothers. “They had really elaborate dentalium on their regalia, a cape, double hair ties and earrings,” she said. “I admired their pictures. I think there is something about it in our cultures where we like shiny and beautiful things, and shells are one of them.”
As she started working with dentalium more, she started learning more about the significance to her culture. “As I grew older, I had the realization that we are landlocked people, but we have this relationship with shells that come from the ocean,” Tolman said. “That came from trade and the currency and representation it had.”
“My great-grandmothers came from families that could afford elaborate regalia,” said Tolman. “The cultural implications meant they came from male relatives that could provide for families, in terms of being good hunters so that they could have a fair amount of hides they could trade for those dentalium shells.”
Shells were highly traded in times of peace, when trade centers were established, she said.
“Historically, it was our men who took pride in their women and traded many buffalo robes for dentalium so that women could use the shells to adorn hair ties, earrings and yokes, as well as war bonnets,” Tolman added. “It showed love for their families to be able to afford these things.”
Those days of bartering on trade routes and at trading posts are long gone. But dentalium is seeing a boom, according to Tolman and others. So why is there a recent uptick in its popularity? Tolman says that can be attributed to social media and a social movement.
“From my perspective and my social media circles, that style exploded with social media and the Dakota Access pipeline,” said Tolman. “It took off with a Dakota/Lakota style of how it&#8217;s worn, and many other tribes use this style now. Our style became more mainstream, more normalized, and those who don&#8217;t traditionally have that style wear that style of earring now: tiered rows of dentalium, historically a Plains tribes style.”
Because of that popularity and the growing scarcity of the shell, price points have changed dramatically since Tolman’s college years. Shells are now sold per ounce or kilogram. She says the larger shells are the hardest to find, and when they are available, they range up to $50 per ounce.
“Fourteen years ago it was more affordable, the very large, very coveted dentalium, 4 to 5 inches large,” she recalled. “They were $1.50 per shell at Prairie Edge in Rapid City. Then they were always out of stock. I couldn&#8217;t get them anymore. Prairie Edge said their supplier on the West Coast was buying them in bulk. The larger shell – sturdy, hardy shells – I would save up to buy in bulk: 1,000 shells for $100. But now there are very few places to buy in bulk.”
Tolman and her family moved to Pullman, Washington, to join the inaugural cohort of Titooqan Cuukweneewit WSU’s Indigenous Teacher Prep Project. She and her husband, “T,” have six children and own “Haipazaza Phezuta,” an online soap and body product store that promotes family, sustainability and respectful Indigenous relationships with medicine plant relatives.
When she moved to Washington state in 2017, she could find shells online at Etsy, Ebay and powwow regalia-making sites on Facebook. But now the only place she can occasionally find the large shells is a few trading posts.
“The larger shells are hard to come by,” she said. “The smaller ones are fine. But the ones that are 2½ inches or larger are very difficult to find.” Last year she went to Prairie Edge during powwow and purchased 2 to 2½-inch shells for $50 an ounce.
Nowadays, Tolman lives less than a day’s drive from the traditional dentalium harvesting grounds around Vancouver Island. But she says she isn&#8217;t aware of any shell harvesters in her area; she only knows of one in Alaska. Instead, she replenishes her supply through a few area trading posts on the Nez Perce Reservation and the Coeur d’Alene Reservation in Idaho or at the Yellowstone Pawn in Billings, Montana.
Recently, she discovered an unexpected solution to the dentalium shortage: a 3D printer used at a community college in North Carolina that could make imitation dentalium.
“I mailed them my own shells to get a template off of and they made copies of them,” she said. “For the past year and a half, I’ve been using those. I was able to make a necklace with those shells.”
When asked what the dentalium shortage in the U.S. means, Tolman says it&#8217;s disappointing but not surprising. The explosion of dentalium sales on the internet is indicative of the effects of systemic capitalism.
Tipiziwin is a graduate student in the University of Victoria’s Indigenous Language Revitalization program and a substitute teacher in the Pullman School District.
“We have the power to make changes, give them a rest. I encourage people to be mindful and keep in mind that the shells are not just an object but that it came from life, a living being from the water,” Tolman said.
“Without the water, none of us can live. Wearing dentalium is a reminder to show gratitude to water. Despite everything that has happened to our people, there are still people who practice gratitude to the water. We can still do that.”

Dentalium journey with artist Tipiziwin Tolman: from necessity to cultural icon

When a new shipment of dentalium shells arrives at <a href="https://prairieedge.com/">Prairie Edge and Sioux Trading Post</a>, &#8220;they smell like fish,&#8221; said Nancy Witt, manager of Prairie Edge and its sister store, the Sioux Trading Post. By the time she repackages the tusk-shaped shells for her customers, the ocean scent has faded, but the excitement hasn&#8217;t. Demand has surged throughout the supply chain, from the beadworkers to the traditional clothes makers and Indigenous artists who eagerly await each new supply of these scarce shells.
The Sioux Trading Post, a cultural landmark in Rapid City, South Dakota, since 1957, has been on the frontlines of a major resurgence in dentalium sales since around 2016, when the Dakota Access Pipeline movement made headlines and Indigenous style became a trend. Since then, dealers like Witt have been scrambling to meet demand. 
Walmart now sells dentalium after being contacted by a sea shell company in India.  
During the Covid-19 pandemic, dentalium couldn’t be found anywhere, said Witt, who has been in the business for nearly two decades. 
Traditional sources in the Pacific Northwest have been severely overharvested, so now retailers and vendors are looking eastward to new supplies in Asia and to other alternatives such as 3D printing to meet the need. 
<h3>Prairie Edge: A Trading Post With Global Appeal</h3>
When visitors enter Prairie Edge, they’re often excited, according to Witt, a citizen of the Oglala Sioux Tribe. “People make an effort to come to Prairie Edge because they want to have an experience,” Witt said. “It&#8217;s a different kind of shopping that people have not experienced before.”
Guests who venture into the ground-floor retail section see a vibrant array of Pendleton blankets and star quilts, beaded amulets and bags and lapel pins, and a whole library of Indigenous-themed books. The Native American Gallery inside showcases and sells fine American Indian ledger art, bison and wildlife pieces and cast paper sculptures by Patty and Allen Eckman. Upstairs, you&#8217;ll find a craft supplies area with items ranging from conch and abalone shells to porcupine quills, deer hooves and dentalium. Currently, Prairie Edge sells 1-ounce packages of around 30 shells in three different sizes, ranging from $12 to $15.
“People make capes out of them, long dangly earrings and necklaces –– they&#8217;re really creative with what they come up with,” Witt said. “People who work with dentalium on a regular basis know what they&#8217;re looking for and then pick out the best packages they like.” 
<h3>Chrissy&#8217;s Creations: Modern Entrepreneurs Meet Ancient Traditions</h3>
Online dealers have also embraced the resurgence. Chrissy Rhoads, owner of the Indigenous beadwork and supply store <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/620982335195089/">Chrissy’s Creations</a>, has been in business since 2018. During that time, the Lumbee Tribe citizen began a personal journey of self-discovery and healing, through which she found her true purpose and passion for beadwork.
“As a self-taught artist, I immersed myself in the world of beads, exploring various techniques and designs that resonated with my soul,” Rhoads said.
Initially, she began selling her own beadwork to reconnect and &#8221; keep our traditions alive,” but later, she shifted focus to selling beadwork supplies. Rhoads primarily uses Facebook to share her work and connect with other creators online. 
Chrissy&#8217;s Creations is based in Princeton, North Carolina, where it now has a storefront for in-person sales. Most of her customers are Indigenous people from tribes across the United States and Canada. “My goal is to offer everyone a glimpse into the world that I love so dearly,” she said. “Our store is a celebration of our heritage and a space where we can share the richness of Indigenous art and culture with the community.”
Rhoads’ best selling product is dentalium. She said Chrissy’s Creations sells over 50,000 lbs. of dentalium annually. Typically, each 8-ounce bag sells for around $45-$55. Chrissy&#8217;s Creations primarily sources its supply from India. 
“In addition to creating my own beadwork, I also began selling beads and dentalium tusk shells,” she said. “This allowed me to further share the beauty and significance of these materials with others who appreciate and practice the art of beading.”
<h3>Sea Around Us: A Family Business Meeting Local Needs</h3>
Other small businesses, such as <a href="https://www.facebook.com/p/Sea-Around-Us-100054291679791/">Sea Around Us</a>, have turned to global sources to meet the demands of their local Indigenous population.
Bill Snell started working at Sea Around Us, a supply store and seaside gift shop in Trinidad, California, in the early 1990s. His father founded the shop in 1967, and his mother, Barbara, now owns it.
Many of his customers are members of tribes in Northern California and Oregon. In response to their needs, the shop has expanded its offerings to include seed beads, leather, cowrie shells and other regalia supplies for Native customers.
Seated at a worn table surrounded by $500 and $1,000 strands of layered blue and bone-colored dentalium, Snell often answers curious questions. As customers watch him sort through the shells, he might pause, offering a quick primer: 
“They are in the family of Scaphopod, a distant relative of squid and octopus, which are cephalopods,” he said. “They&#8217;re an individual organism that lives buried in the sand or the mud. There&#8217;s maybe 250 or more known species, some as deep as two miles down, and they&#8217;re found in oceans all around the world.”
One of the store’s most in-demand items is dentalium. Depending on the size and the species, the prices can vary widely. Snell said the smooth shells from India were $25-$30 per kilo when they hit the market. Lately, he says the price of dentalium has risen due to a growing supply shortage. 
Snell’s father originally acquired some shells from South Korea during the Korean War in the 1950s. The shells washed ashore, so locals began to harvest and collect them. “My father ended up purchasing them, so he would clean, sort and sell them.”
Another contact also introduced Snell to dentalium from Europe, which were picked from various beaches in the Nordic region. While Sea Around Us is located in the Pacific Northwest, Snell has never seen them for sale or harvested in the region. 
“The rich ones from South Korea that I carry, they&#8217;ve gone up since my father was selling them,” he said. “If you bought 1,000, you could get them for 15 cents a shell. Now the same shell, if we are selling them, is more like $15 per shell.”
Due to the growing scarcity of dentalium, it&#8217;s becoming more difficult for sellers like Snell to meet the demand from their Indigenous customers. Snell explained that once Sea Around Us runs out of its current supply, they won’t be able to restock until they can find a new source.
“The European shell, which I was buying, they cannot send them any longer because they&#8217;re not allowed to remove anything from the beach, even sand,” he said. “So when those are gone, they&#8217;ll be gone.”