MESCALERO, New Mexico — 

Anne Marie Brillante never imagined she would have to choose between being Apache and being Catholic.

To her, and many others in the Mescalero Apache tribe in New Mexico who are members of St. Joseph Apache Mission, their Indigenous culture had always been intertwined with faith. Both are sacred.

"Hearing we had to choose, that was a shock," said a tearful Brillante, a member of the mission's parish council.

The focus of this tense, unresolved episode is the 8-foot Apache Christ painting. For this close-knit community, it is a revered icon created by Franciscan friar Robert Lentz in 1989. It depicts Christ as a Mescalero medicine man and has hung behind the church's altar for 35 years under a crucifix as a reminder of the holy union of their culture and faith.

On June 26, the church's then-priest, Peter Chudy Sixtus Simeon-Aguinam, removed the icon and a smaller painting depicting a sacred Indigenous dancer. Also taken were ceramic chalices and baskets given by the Pueblo community for use during the Eucharist.

Brillante said the priest took them away while the region was reeling from wildfires that claimed two lives and burned more than 1,000 homes.

The Diocese of Las Cruces, which oversees the mission, did not respond to several emails, phone calls and an in-person visit by The Associated Press.

Parishioners, shocked to see the blank wall behind the altar when they arrived for Catechism class, initially believed the art objects had been stolen. But Brillante was informed by a diocesan official that the icon's removal occurred under the authority of Bishop Peter Baldacchino and in the presence of a diocesan risk manager.

The diocese has returned the icons and other objects after the community's outrage was covered by various media outlets, and the bishop replaced Simeon-Aguinam with another priest. But Brillante and others say it's insufficient to heal the spiritual abuse they have endured.

Brillante said their former priest opened old wounds with his recent actions, suggesting he sought to cleanse them of their "pagan" ways, and it has derailed the reconciliation process initiated by Pope Francis in 2022. That year, Francis gave a historic apology for the Catholic Church's role in Indigenous residential schools, forcing Native people to assimilate into Christian society, destroying their cultures and separating families.

A spokesperson for the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops declined comment on the Mescalero case. But last month, the conference overwhelmingly approved a pastoral framework for Indigenous ministry, which pointed to a "false choice" many Indigenous Catholics are faced with — to be Indigenous or Catholic:

"We assure you, as the Catholic bishops of the United States, that you do not have to be one or the other. You are both."

Several of the mission's former priests understood this, but Brillante believes Simeon-Aguinam's recent demand to make that "false choice" violated the bishops' new guidelines.

Larry Gosselin, a Franciscan who served St. Joseph from 1984 to 1996 and again from 2001 to 2003, said he sought the approval of 15 Mescalero leaders before Lentz began the painting that took three months to complete.

"He poured all of himself into that painting," said Gosselin, explaining that Lentz sprinkled gold dust on himself and skipped showering, using his body oils to adhere the gold to the canvas. Then he gave the painting to the humble church.

Albert Braun, the priest who helped construct the church building in the 1920s, respected Mescalero Apache traditions in his ministry and was so beloved that he is buried inside the church, near the altar.

Church elders Glenda and Larry Brusuelas said to right this wrong and to repair this damage, the bishop must issue a public apology.

"You don't call or send a letter," Larry Brusuelas said. "You face the people you have offended and offer some guarantee that this is not going to happen again. That's the Apache way."

While Bishop Baldacchino held a two-hour meeting with the parish council in Mescalero after the items were returned, Brillante said he seemed more concerned about the icon being "hastily" reinstalled rather than acknowledging the harm or offering an apology.

Still, some are hopeful. Parish council member Pamela Cordova said she views the bishop appointing a new priest who was more familiar with the Apache community as a positive step.

"We need to give the bishop a chance to prove himself and let us know he is sincere and wants to make things right," she said.

The concept of "inculturation," the notion of people expressing their faith through their culture, has been encouraged by the Catholic Church since the Second Vatican Council in the early 1960s, said Chris Vecsey, professor of religion and Native American studies at Colgate University in Hamilton, New York.

"It's rather shocking to see a priest who has been assigned a parish with Native people acting in such a disrespectful way in 2024," he said. "But it does reflect a long history of concern that blending these symbols might weaken, threaten or pollute the purity of the faith."

Deacon Steven Morello, the Archdiocese of Detroit's missionary to the American Indians, said the goal of the U.S. bishops' new framework is to correct the ills of the past. He said Indigenous spirituality and Catholic faith have much in common, such as the burning of sage in Native American ceremonies and incense in a Catholic church.

"Both are meant to cleanse the heart and mind of all distractions," he said. "The smoke goes up to God."

Morello said Pope Francis' encyclical on caring for the Earth and the environment titled "Laudato Si" addresses the sacredness of all creation — a core principle Indigenous people have lived by for millennia.

"There is no conflict, only commonality, between Indigenous and Catholic spirituality," he said.

There are over 340 Native American parishes in the United States and many use Indigenous symbols and sacred objects in church. In every corner of the Mescalero church, Apache motifs seamlessly blend in with Catholic imagery.

The Apache Christ painting hangs as the focal point of the century-old Romanesque church whose rock walls soar as high as 90 feet. Artwork of teepees adorns the lectern. A mural at the altar shows the Last Supper with Christ and his apostles depicted as Apache men. Tall crowns worn by mountain dancers known as "gahe" in Apache, hang over small paintings showing Christ's crucifixion and resurrection.

For parishioner Sarah Kazhe, the Apache Christ painting conveys how Jesus appears to the people of Mescalero.

"Jesus meets you where you are and he appears to us in a way we understand," she said. "Living my Apache way of life is no different than attending church. ... The mindless, thoughtless act of removing a sacred icon sent a message that we didn't matter."

Parishioners believe the Creator in Apache lore is the same as their Christian God. On a recent Saturday night, community members gathered to bless two girls who had come of age. Kazhe and Donalyn Torres, one of the church elders who authorized Lentz to paint the Apache Christ, sat in lawn chairs with more than 100 others, watching crown dancers bring blessings on them.

Under a half-moon, the men wore body paint and tall crowns, dancing to drumbeats and song around a large fire. The women, including the two girls donning buckskin and jewelry, formed the outer circle, moving their feet in a quick, shuffling motion.

In the morning, many from the group attended Mass at their church, the Apache Christ restored to its place of honor.

The painting shows Christ as a Mescalero holy man, standing on the sacred Sierra Blanca, greeting the sun. A sun symbol is painted on his left palm; he holds a deer hoof rattle in his right hand. The inscription at the bottom is Apache for "giver of life," one of their names for the Creator. Greek letters in the upper corners are abbreviations for "Jesus Christ."

Gosselin, the mission's former priest, said he was struck by the level of detail Lentz captured in that painting, particularly the eyes — which focus on a distance just as Apache people would when talking about spirituality. He believes the painting was "divinely inspired" because the people who received it feel a holy connection.

"This has resonated in the spirit and their hearts," he said. "Now, 35 years later, the Apache people are fighting for it."

WASHINGTON — 

Pentagon to review whether soldiers deserved honors for actions in Wounded Knee Massacre

Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin has ordered a panel to review Medals of Honor (MOH) awarded to 20 soldiers for the actions during what the directive calls the “engagement at Wounded Knee Creek” in December 1890 in which U.S. soldiers killed approximately 350 to 375 Lakota men, women, and children.

As the country's highest military honor, the MOH is awarded for gallantry beyond the call of duty.

Experts will assess each awardee's actions to determine whether their actions violated MOH standards, such as “intentionally directing an attack against a non-combatant or an individual who has surrendered in good faith, murder or rape of a prisoner, or engaging in any other act demonstrating immorality.”

The review's findings and recommendations are expected by mid-October.

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Native Americans speak out against Trump pick for VP

Some Native Americans are voicing concerns about Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump’s pick for a running mate, J.D. Vance, believing him to be anti-Indigenous.

When President Joe Biden designated October 11, 2021, as Indigenous People’s Day, Vance took to the social media platform X (formerly Twitter) to denounce it as a "fake holiday created to sow division.”

Vance also spoke out against the U.S. Forest Service’s plan to rename Ohio’s Wayne National Forest, which was named after 18th Century general Anthony Wayne, who spent much of his military career fighting and divesting Native Americans of their lands.

“He fought wars and won peace for our government, the government you now serve, and hewed Ohio out of rugged wilderness and occupied enemy territory,” Vance wrote in an August 23 letter to the National Forest Service. [[ https://www.vance.senate.gov/press-releases/senator-vance-opposes-plan-to-rename-wayne-national-forest/ ]]

Native Americans also cite pieces of legislation Vance has introduced that they say would undermine tribal sovereignty.

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Native Americans: Deb Haaland would be a good pick for Harris running mate

As for the Democratic Party vice presidential nomination, now that Vice President Kamala Harris is the likely presidential candidate, some Native Americans think she should choose Interior Secretary Deb Haaland as her running mate.

They point to her achievements running the Department of the Interior (DOI), which manages public lands and minerals, national parks and wildlife refuges and works to uphold Federal trust obligations to Native Americans.

She set up a Missing and Murdered Unit inside DOI’s Bureau of Indian Affairs, which collaborates with law enforcement agencies to help solve missing or unsolved homicide cases.

She launched the Federal Indian Boarding School Initiative to investigate Indian boarding schools and account for students who died in the system.

She has also negotiated scores of public land co-stewardship agreements with tribes across the United States.

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Southwestern tribal leaders to Congress: Act now on water rights bills

Leaders and representatives from Colorado Plateau tribes were in Washington this week, urging Congress to act quickly on water rights settlement acts.

Lawmakers from both parties have introduced legislation in Congress after the Navajo, Hopi Tribe and Southern San Juan Paiute tribes signed off on a historic water rights settlement for waters in the upper and lower basins of the Colorado River, the Little Colorado River basin, the Gila River Basin and claims to groundwater in several aquifers.

Testifying before the House Natural Resources Subcommittee on Water, Wildlife, and Fisheries, they highlighted the need for access to water and better water infrastructure.

“Roughly a third of all Navajo households lack running water, including the home I grew up in,” Navajo Nation president Buu Nygren told lawmakers. “Thousands of our people continue to haul water, thirty miles round trip to meet their daily water demands.”

The bill would fund essential water development and delivery projects' acquisition, construction, and maintenance. One of the key components of this initiative is a distribution pipeline projected to cost approximately $1.75 billion. That project would improve water delivery and ensure that tribes gain reliable access to this vital resource, which has long been a concern in areas dependent on the Colorado River.

Specifically, the bill would allow the three tribes to secure over 56,000 acre-feet of Colorado River water each year. To put this into perspective, an acre-foot of water can sustain an average American household for an entire year.

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Oklahoma tribes outraged by Atlanta Braves ‘tribe night’ celebrations

A group of prominent Oklahoma-based tribal officials is demanding an apology from the Atlanta Braves baseball team for celebrating "Georgia Tribe Night" at its stadium.

During that June 29 event, the Braves hosted representatives from three state- but not federally recognized tribes and members of a state council on American Indian concerns.

Attending a quarterly meeting in Tulsa earlier this month, leaders of the Inter-Tribal Council of the Five Tribes passed a resolution calling for the Braves to apologize and engage in meaningful consultations with federally recognized tribes.

The Inter-Tribal Council comprises leaders from the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Muscogee (Creek), and Seminole nations, who were driven out of Georgia in the 19th Century and marched along the so-called “Trail of Tears” to what is today Oklahoma.

Cherokee Nation Principal Chief Chuck Hoskin Jr., called event organizers offensive and tone-deaf, noting the Braves’ history of problematic depictions of Native American culture, including the controversial "tomahawk chop" gesture, in which spectators hack at the air and sing a “war chant” rooted in a 1950s children’s cartoon show that stereotyped Indians.

“The Atlanta Braves corporation may consider meaningful consultations with actual Indian tribes instead of trotting representatives of fraudulent organizations posting as tribes as a PR stunt, Hoskin said in a June 30 statement. “This piles insult on top of insult.”

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BOISE, Idaho — 

The U.S. government will invest $240 million in salmon and steelhead hatcheries in the Pacific Northwest to boost declining fish populations and support the treaty-protected fishing rights of Native American tribes, officials announced Thursday.

The departments of Commerce and the Interior said there will be an initial $54 million for hatchery maintenance and modernization made available to 27 tribes in the region, which includes Oregon, Washington, Idaho and Alaska.

The hatcheries "produce the salmon that tribes need to live," said Jennifer Quan, the regional administrator for NOAA Fisheries West Coast Region. "We are talking about food for the tribes and supporting their culture and their spirituality."

Some of the facilities are on the brink of failure, Quan said, with a backlog of deferred maintenance that has a cost estimated at more than $1 billion.

"For instance, the roof of the Makah Tribe's Stony Creek facility is literally a tarp. The Lummi Nation Skookum Hatchery is the only hatchery that raises spring Chinook salmon native to the recovery of our Puget Sound Chinook Salmon," and it is falling down, Quan said.

Lisa Wilson, secretary of the Lummi Indian Business Council, said salmon are as important as the air they breathe, their health and their way of life. She thanked everyone involved in securing "this historic funding."

"Hatchery fish are Treaty fish and play a vital role in the survival of our natural-origin populations while also providing salmon for our subsistence and ceremonies," she said in a statement. "If it weren't for the hatcheries and the Tribes, nobody would be fishing."

The Columbia River Basin was once the world's greatest salmon-producing river system, with at least 16 stocks of salmon and steelhead. Today, four are extinct and seven are listed under the Endangered Species Act. Salmon are a key part of the ecosystem, and another endangered Northwest species, a population of killer whales, depend on Chinook salmon for food.

Salmon are born in rivers and migrate long distances downstream to the ocean, where they spend most of their adult lives. They then make the difficult trip back upstream to their birthplace to spawn and die.

Columbia Basin dams have played a major part in devastating the wild fish runs, cutting off access to upstream habitat, slowing the water and sometimes allowing it to warm to temperatures that are fatal for fish.

For decades, state, federal and tribal governments have tried to supplement declining fish populations by building hatcheries to breed and hatch salmon that are later released into the wild. But multiple studies have shown that hatchery programs frequently have negative impacts on wild fish, in part by reducing genetic diversity and by increasing competition for food.

Quan acknowledged the hatcheries "come with risks" but said they can be managed to produce additional fish for harvest and even to help restore populations while minimizing risks to wild fish.

"Hatcheries have been around for a long time, and we've seen the damage that they can do," Quan said.

Still the programs have gone through a course correction in recent years, following genetic management plans and the principles established by scientific review groups, she said. "We are in a different place now."

It will take habitat restoration, improved water quality, adjustments to harvest and other steps if salmon are going to recover, but so far society has not been willing to make the needed changes for that to happen, she said. Add in the impacts of climate change, and the calculus of bad and good hatchery impacts changes further.

"We need to start having a conversation about hatcheries and how they are going to be an important adaptation tool for us moving forward," Quan said.

Greg Ruggerone, a salmon research scientist with Natural Resources Consultants Inc. in Seattle, said the key is to determine how to better harvest hatchery salmon from rivers without harming the wild salmon that are making the same trek to spawning grounds. Robust harvests of hatchery fish will help ensure that the federal government is meeting its treaty obligations to the tribes, while reducing competition for wild fish, Ruggerone said.

"A big purpose of the hatcheries in the Pacific Northwest is to provide for harvest — especially harvest for the tribes — so there is a big opportunity if we can figure out how to harvest without harming wild salmon," Ruggerone said.

Every hatchery in the Columbia River basin was built to mitigate the effects of the hydropower dams built in the region, said Becky Johnson, the production division director for the Nez Perce Tribe's Department of Fisheries Resource Management.

Most were built in the 1960s, 1970s or earlier, she said.

"I'm super excited about this opportunity. Tribal and non-tribal people benefit from them — more salmon coming back to the basin means more salmon for everyone," Johnson said. "It's critical that we have fish and that the tribal people have food. Tribal members will tell you they're fighting hard to continue to hang on to fish, and they're never going to stop that fight."

HINCKLEY, Minn. — 

At summertime social powwows and spiritual ceremonies throughout the Upper Midwest, Native Americans are gathering around singers seated at big, resonant drums to dance, celebrate and connect with their ancestral culture.

"I grew up singing my entire life, and I was always taught that dewe'igan is the heartbeat of our people," said Jakob Wilson, 19, using the Ojibwe term for drum that's rooted in the words for heart and sound. "The absolute power and feeling that comes off of the drum and the singers around it is incredible."

Wilson has led the drum group at Hinckley-Finlayson High School. In 2023, Wilson's senior year, they were invited to drum and sing at graduation. But this year, when his younger sister Kaiya graduated, the school board barred them from performing at the ceremony, creating dismay across Native communities far beyond this tiny town where cornfields give way to northern Minnesota's birch and fir forests.

"It kind of shuts us down, makes us step back instead of going forward. It was hurtful," said Lesley Shabaiash. She was participating in the weekly drum and dance session at the Minneapolis American Indian Center a few weeks after attending protests in Hinckley.

"Hopefully this incident doesn't stop us from doing our spiritual things," added the mother of four, who grew up in the Twin Cities but identifies with the Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe, whose tribal lands abut Hinckley.

In written statements, the school district's superintendent said the decision to ban "all extracurricular groups" from the ceremony, while making other times and places for performance available, was intended to prevent disruptions and avoid "legal risk if members of the community feel the District is endorsing a religious group as part of the graduation ceremony."

But many Native families felt the ban showed how little their culture and spirituality is understood. It also brought back traumatic memories of their being forcibly suppressed, not only at boarding schools like the one the Wilsons' grandmother attended, but more generally from public spaces.

It was not until the late 1970s that the American Indian Religious Freedom Act directed government agencies to make policy changes "to protect and preserve Native American religious cultural rights and practices."

"We had our language, culture and way of life taken away," said Memegwesi Sutherland, who went to high school in Hinckley and teaches the Ojibwe language at the Minneapolis American Indian Center.

The Center's weekly drum and dance sessions help those who "may feel lost inside" without connections to ancestral ways of life find their way back, said Tony Frank, a drum instructor.

"Singing is a door opener to everything else we do," said Frank, who has been a singer for nearly three decades. "The reason we sing is from our heart. Our connection to the drum and songs is all spiritual. You give 100 percent, so the community can feel a piece of us."

In drum circles like those in Minneapolis, where many Natives are Ojibwe and Lakota, there is a lead singer, who starts each song before passing on the beat and verse to others seated at the drum, which is made of wood and animal hide (usually deer or steer).

A drum keeper or carrier cares for the drum, often revered as having its own spirit and considered like a relative and not like personal property. Keepers and singers are usually male; according to one tradition, that's because women can already connect to a second heartbeat when pregnant.

These lifelong positions are often passed down in families. Similarly, traditional lyrics or melodies are learned from older generations, while others are gifted in dreams to medicine men, several singers said. Some songs have no words, only vocables meant to convey feelings or emulate nature.

Songs and drums at the center of social events like powwows are different from those that are crucial instruments in spiritual ceremonies, for example for healing, and that often contain invocations to the Creator, said Anton Treuer, an Ojibwe language and culture professor at Bemidji State University.

Meant to mark the beginning of a new journey in life, the "traveling song" that the drum group wanted to sing at the Hinckley graduation includes the verse "when you no longer can walk, that is when I will carry you," said Jakob Wilson.

That's why it was meant for the entire graduating class of about 70 students, not only the 21 Native seniors, added Kaiya Wilson, who trained as a back-up singer – and why relegating it to just another extracurricular activity hurt so deeply.

"This isn't just for fun, this is our culture," said Tim Taggart, who works at the Meshakwad Community Center – named after a local drum carrier born in the early 20th century – and helped organize the packed powwow held in the school's parking lot after graduation. "To just be culturally accepted, right? That's all everybody wants, just to be accepted."

The school had taken good steps in recent years, like founding the Native American Student Association, and many in the broader Hinckley community turned out to support Native students. So Taggart is optimistic that after this painful setback, bridges will be rebuilt.

And the drum, with all that it signifies about community and a connected way of life, will be brought back.

"Nothing can function without that heartbeat," said Taggart, whose earliest memory of the drum is being held as a toddler at a ceremony. "It's not just hearing the drums, but you're feeling it throughout your entire body, and that just connects you more with the spirit connection, more with God."

As dancers – from toddlers to adults in traditional shawls – circled the floor to the drum's beat in the Minneapolis center's gym, Cheryl Secola, program director for its Culture Language Arts Network, said it was heartwarming to see families bring children week after week, building connections even if they might not have enough resources to travel to the reservations.

On reservations too, many youths aren't being raised in cultural ways like singing, said Isabella Stensrud-Eubanks, 16, a junior and back-up singer on the Hinckley high school drum group.

"It's sad to say, but our culture is slowly dying out," she said, adding that several elders reached out to her and the Wilsons after the graduation controversy to teach them more, so the youth can themselves one day teach their traditions.

Mark Erickson was already about 20 when he went back to Red Lake, his father's band in northern Minnesota, to learn his people's songs.

"It's taken me a lifetime to learn and speak the language, and a lifetime to learn the songs," said Erickson, who only in his late 60s was awarded the distinction of culture carrier for Anishinaabe songs, a term for Ojibwe and other Indigenous groups in the Great Lakes region of Canada and the United States.

Believing that songs and drums are gifts from the Creator, he has been going to drum and dance sessions at the Minneapolis Center for more than a decade to share them, and the notions of honor and respect they carry.

"When you're out there dancing, you tend to forget your day-to-day struggles and get some relief, some joy and happiness," Erickson said.

WASHINGTON — 

Native Americans discuss impact of a second Trump term on tribal communities

Native Americans were noticeably absent from the Republican National Convention in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, this week. The exception was James Crawford, chairman of the Forest County Potawatomi Community in that state, who opened Day Two of the convention with a speech in which he reminded the audience that events were taking place in lands that were part of the original Potawatomi homelands.

“Our ancestors occupied these lands for hundreds of years, fishing area, rivers and lakes, hunting the land, tapping maple tree groves for sugar and harvesting crops and fields each fall,” Crawford said.

In keeping with Tuesday evening’s theme, “Make America Safe Again,” Crawford addressed threats to Native American safety.

“The growing use and abuse of illegal drugs are claiming countless lives on reservations across this country,” he said, “and Native American women and girls continue to be exploited, trafficked and subjected to violence at reprehensible levels.”

While he did not expressly endorse the Republican ticket, Crawford said he looked forward to working with Republicans to achieve a safe America.

Watch Crawford’s speech below:

Native media’s take on the convention

“Native American Calling,” a radio talk show heard across dozens of public, community and tribal radio stations in the United States and Canada, broadcast live from the event all week, bringing together prominent Native American journalists and business leaders to discuss what a second Donald Trump term might mean for tribal communities.

“Quite clearly, the Republican platform has no mention of Native Americans,” Native News Online editor Levi Rickert noted.

The official platform calls for changes in some federal policies that could impact Native Americans, such as cutting federal funding for any schools pushing “critical race theory (CRT),” an academic concept that racism is built into U.S. legal and government systems, and other “inappropriate racial, sexual or political content.”

The anti-CRT movement has put pressure on many school districts to leave Native American history out of the classroom.

Native American Calling guest panelist Shaun Griswold (Laguna/Zuni/Jemez), editor of Source New Mexico, drew Representative Lauren Boebert into an impromptu interview at the convention in which she stated her desire to head the Interior Department, which manages more than 70% of all federal public lands.

“Public lands are something that are very dear to me,” she said. “ ... and I absolutely care for their [tribal] sovereignty and their prosperity, and that the state and local governments and the federal government is not infringing on your sovereign right."

That said, Boebert said she opposes land grabs by the federal government, such as Joe Biden’s expansion of the Bears Ear National Monument, land sacred to several tribes. See interview, below:

Back to square one

VOA reached out to Shannon O’Loughlin (Choctaw), CEO of the Association on American Indian Affairs (AAIA). She said the last time she saw a Republican platform address Indian Country was in 2016 during Donald Trump's first campaign.

That platform noted that the federal government has not honored its government-to-government relationship with and trust responsibility for tribes.

“It was something that I don't think the Trump administration really ever adopted,” she said.

She expressed concern over Trump’s plans to overhaul civil service by firing thousands of federal employees and replacing them with those loyal to him and the Republican Party.

“This [election cycle] isn't just about presidents,” O’Loughlin said. “It's also about the people who have been working on Native issues within the agencies, sometimes for decades.”

As mandated by the Indian Reorganization Act of 1934, the Interior Department gives preference to Native Americans when hiring for Bureau of Indian Affairs or Indian Health Service jobs.

If these people were to be fired, O’Loughlin worries they would be replaced with people who “have no clue about the basis of federal Indian law, policy and the government-to-government relationship.”

And that would bring groups like the AAIA back to square one.

“It's difficult enough for Native peoples. With every single turnover in the administration and Congress, we have the burden of educating all newly appointed or elected officials,” she said. “We are worried that could change how new Interior Department employees would interpret and oversee many of the statutes under U.S. code.”

Killer of 2 Alaska Native women sentenced to 226 years

A judge in Anchorage, Alaska, this week sentenced a convicted murderer to 226 years in prison for the torture and murder of two Alaska Native women.

Brian Smith was convicted in February of 14 counts, including two counts of first-degree murder, second-degree sexual assault, tampering with physical evidence and misconduct involving a corpse.

As VOA reported in 2019, the victims were Kathleen Jo Henry from the Yupik village of Eek in southwestern Alaska, and Veronica Abouchuk, also Yupik, from the western Alaska village of Stebbins.

The case came to light after Anchorage Police Department homicide detectives were alerted by a woman who found a memory card on the ground labeled “Homicide at midtown Marriott.” The videos revealed that Smith had tortured an unknown woman before killing her, disposing of her body and attempting to hide the evidence.

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