Native American Activists Save Sacred Burial Ground From Bulldozers
Hundreds gathered at Glen Cove, Calif., last weekend for a closing ceremony to celebrate what Native American activists and their allies are declaring an historic victory.
It was a victory over a city-park development that would have bulldozed the area for parking lots, plumbing and paved paths -- on one of the last undeveloped ancient burial sites of indigenous people remaining in the San Francisco Bay Area.
From the outside, John and Pauline Jerzyszek’s modern semi looks just like all the others in their suburban road.
But inside it’s pretty different. You could say it’s heap big different.
A bone-tipped spear decorated with feathers hangs on the living room wall. Beneath it are photos of Geronimo, Medicine Crow and Sitting Bull, names familiar to many of us only from cowboy and Indian films, but who hold rather more significance in this home. There are also framed flint arrow heads and even a lamp in the shape of a tepee.
Plants don’t do much compared to animals. They’re sedentary sorts, even with time-lapse photography. We’re talking about vegetative, botanical bores. Right?
Wrong, according to Dennis McKenna, who argues against the standard take on plants. The droll ethnopharmacologist is struggling with an uncooperative Powerbook as he launches into a presentation at UBC on the co-evolution of humans and plants.
When Vance Gellert studied pharmacology in the early ’70s, he found that a scientific method of systematic observation, precise measurement and disciplined testing could explain the efficacy of most treatments. For that matter, it was a satisfying way of explaining much of the world around him.
After completing his postdoctoral work in pharmacology, Mr. Gellert realized that photography was his true calling. He co-founded and ran the Minnesota Center for Photography in Minneapolis.
The canoe journeys are a new tradition for a very old people, but they already have one rigid rule that everyone knows not to break.
That thing you are paddling is called a canoe. Do not call it something else.
“If you call it a boat,” said Mariah Francis, 16, of the Lower Elwha Klallam Tribe, “you’re either supposed to jump in the water or you’ll get thrown in.”