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Fri Jan 6, 2017 18:44

From my good friend Lydia White Calf, a true survivor...on behalf of so many:

Tiny Voices, Big Dust

For Masie

I don’t know how I kept my composure. I suppose I disassociated. I may have seemed there, proud, once proud and confident about life, to all those people in that hall. I was a professional. I was fastidious about my duties in life - as a mother, a wife, a human citizen. I respected my place life had given me deeply. I did - until that 5 day episode, when everything changed forever. The challenge now and here, however, is to tell this story, this truth - and involve myself as little as possible, and that is the great hardship I face writing these words.

It was 18 years ago, and time has played a strange trick. Something stopped living in life for me that week, and a vacuum has sucked from me 18 years as the twilight itself has demanded that I am neither among the living nor the dead. Today, however, I am stepping my foot into the life of the living so I can speak for those tiny voices who have long been in the world of the dead. One often hears “A dead man cannot speak’. Does one ever ask can a child speak? Can the children speak? Yes, they can, and they are speaking right now, right here and now to you through these words. They will be silenced no more. They ask all of you to hear them, to hear what happened to them. They ask as any child would, with utter innocence. So we must all hear them together, all of us who are living. It is time.

What we now call North America and Canada were once called - not long ago, Turtle Island. I know this sounds crazy to alot of you, most of you. But the Untied Nations knows it. Washington knows it. The Catholic Church knows it. The Freemasons and all the other Brotherhoods know it. Most of all the Jesuits know it. The conquerers know it well. This is Turtle Island, and as the Peoples of this land, who are of it and from it and an inseparable part of it will tell you, we all walk on the dust of their Ancestors. And this dust is unsettled, unlike the frontier. It is not settled at all. The dust is a spiritual thing, a metaphysical thing and it cannot be settled by any settling ethic, especially while it cries red tears of tiny voices, clay and mud tears - tears of terror, shattered trust. These are very tiny voices whispering in the dust, pleading with us, a clarion call to our humanity. This is the moment for them, a giant step we have to take together for them. We must.

They once sang little songs in languages long lost. Some of them had time for joy and life before this big dark. They had parents they cherished and aunties and uncles, grandmas and grandpas who told them the stories and held them as sacred. Their lives were as credible as your and mine, but a destiny was befalling them that stole their time. In Canada it was U Boats and Mounties that came for them. Here in North America it was that Calvary, the Blue Coats, the soldiers. But for the purpose of this writing I am limited to the story of Canada, which was also called Grandmother’s Land.

The boarding or residential school programs had been set up by the Catholic Church and its affiliates in Canada and North America as the crucial step in genocide. In fact, this tactic of destruction to otherwise indestructible Peoples was so effective after the turn of the century that Hitler himself studied the US and Canadian Government tactics to pursue his policies of extermination, experimentation and torture to the peoples he deemed undesirables for existence. So it is noted that especially in 30’s, 40’s and 50’s there were often German speaking men involved in the kidnapping and torture of First Nations children (and the Native children in North America). German soldiers were involved in rounding them up, in their kidnappings, as ‘doctors’ in the schools, as administrators and as ‘principles’. In fact though, they we’re were rapists, pedophiles, torturers and mass murderers, along with their colleagues from this side of the Atlantic. They worked closely with the Jesuit priests and nuns in the unadulterated mass murder, torture and on-going sexual predation to wholesale generations of Native children - and the establishment of trafficking and pedofile rings as well as body deposal systems throughout both lands, north and south of the ‘border’.

Rudy and Diana James were more than associates to my husband and me. They were not just colleagues, they were our brother and our sister. They sent the Feather as it was called, the Feather to appear as Jurors to the first ever Tribunal to be held on behalf on the United Nations that was to hear the testimony of the survivors of the Residential School Program in Canada. The official name of this Tribunal was The Northwest Tribunal, held in Vancouver, in June 1998. It was a precedent on two fronts. It was the first Tribunal to be heard regarding genocide to First Nations Peoples in Canada, but it was more than that. As stated above, It was about the systematic wholesale kidnapping of approximately six generations of children, aged 4 and up to 18, across an entire continent who were then thrust into these ‘boarding schools’ across the country, and is the story of their genocide in those ’schools'. This story is about the genocide not to grown up people (which has been ongoing to this day since Columbus got lost), but to children - hostages locked up in extremely creepy large brick remote buildings, often on unescapable islands. It is the story of murder and cruelty beyond imagination. It is the story of ritual killing. And with this story comes the truth and evidence of the use of those children for child trafficking and pedophilia as well. It is not just PizzaGate, it is CanadaGate and North AmericaGate. And it has been neatly swept under the carpet of history until today. It is only because of PizzaGate that I can cry out and finally ask all of you to hear these tiny voices of the dust.

When I met my husband I was on my 15th year of an illustrious and successful career as a photojournalist, having been based out of Singapore for 10 of those years. I had worked for global press including the New York Times, The London Times, The south China Sea Morning Post, the Miami Herald, The Bangkok Post and magazines around the world. At the time of the Tribunal I was pursuing my Masters Degree in Transpersonal Psychology in a program in Boulder Co. These were my credentials. My husband, Oglala Lakota from the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, was the most stunning man I had ever met..a leader. He was articulate, informed, educated, passionate and beloved by his People and his Elders. He had started not just a sobriety movement on the reservation, but THE sobriety movement at 18. He had captured the imagination of Peter Jennings, who gave him Best Young Man of America Award on National Television for his work with the youth at the now famous Yellow Thunder Camp in the Black Hills after the Wounded Knee days. His eloquence and his intellectual clarity and his dedication regarding every part of his People’s struggle and the about the plight of Indigenous People’s in the Western Hemisphere were his credentials. Or in his words, having been born an Indian in the 20th Century were his crime and his credentials.

An Elder from the Pacheedaht Peoples of Vancouver Island, Harriet Nahanee, had formed a group of survivors from the Residential School Program called the Circle of Justice in Vancouver in the mid 1990’s. It was from this forum that the formal request was sent to Rudy James, Tllingit Elder, expert in International Law and Liaison to the NGO IHRAAM (International Human Rights Association for American Minorities), which gave access to the Floor of the Sub-Comitee on Human Rights to hold the Tribunal. At this juncture it is safe to say (and with a great great deal of hindsight), intelligence agencies from both Canada and the US were on high alert and forming infiltration tactics and personnel with tremendous force and focus -aimed right at that Tribunal and the complete and utter sabotage of it. These efforts were highly complex so as to confuse the world for decades utterly and completely - to obscure any truth coming from the survivors and those that gave their testimonies to the 30 Jurors (assembled from around the world). I shall leave these duplicitous and vile creatures unnamed, for unlike the children of the dust, they have no song - and they deserves no names. I will say that their names dominated this history since 1998 and the Tribunal - not any names of First Nations children, or their true stories. I will also say that these creatures became permanent fixtures of terror in my and my husband’s life, and the life of my small precious family.

It is important to note here that I am non-Indian from the East Coast and by that time my husband I were the proud parents of two small boys. Our sons are half Lakota half white, and are federally enrolled in the Oglala Sioux Tribe. The day we got back from the Tribunal in June 1998, the horror of our lives began. I refer to it as the full blown military campaign from hell with everything but the tanks. It was later deemed by Steven Segal’s bodyguards (both Brown Berets) that the situation on and around our mountain property above Boulder Colorado was in their words “ the highest level surveillance system on planet Earth at that time”. They indicated that we had dedicated satellites on us and our property that were part of Signals Intelligence and HUMINT, and there were 5 large unmarked RV’s that were listening posts parked in a 7 mile diameter around our property for two to three years. Sometimes as many as 10 extremely low helicopter flyover’s a day was normal right over our roof, with huge telephoto lenses sticking out the open doors, 50 feet over our heads snapping away. Non-stop SUV’s roamed the neighborhood for three years with men in suits wearing wires behind their sunglasses. Sometimes we had camouflage jeeps try to drive us off the rural roads, men on the property at night, tampering with vehicles was normal and death threats from all kinds of old ‘friends’ of my husband’s. An army of people came into our lives, posing as friends and to this day I can honestly say that not one human being involved with my dear tiny family was not a Federal Agent or an intelligence personnel with the CIA in disguise. This was just the beginning. By 2001, Jeffery Snow, the head of the FBI for Boulder advised us to flee the State. We did. Things just got worse - way worse- from there.

It was also common for famous people to show up to help us, some of whom my husband was already close to. Russell Means, Ward Churchill, correspondence from Leonard Peltier, as noted above Steven Segal, the strange and illustrious W. Lee Hill (who posed as our attorney and who was apparently also murdered by the NSA…., etc. The thing was we were involved with so many other immediate and nationally highlighted issues, for which Diana and I had always arranged press between our contacts in New York and Los Angeles with the likes of CNN, Fox News, The New York Times etc, not just the local press), that Royce and I were utterly unsure as to what was the real cause of the targeting from our government. For him, this came with the territory of being in a leadership position with the American Indian Movement, he thought. We thought. But then again..did it?? We were so much in shock from it all we could not properly assess what was going on, when we arrived home to Boulder after the Tribunal. After all only a year later was the famous Camp Justice situation in Pine Ridge, where Royce was asked to personally meet with then President Bill Clinton in Pine Ridge (along with the Elders and Chief Oliver Red Cloud), who had just flown in on Air Force One straight from Bosnia, as late as it was in that genocide for personal profit (and surely leaving Hillary behind under artillery fire yet). This was due to the ever ongoing serial killing of Indians on the reservations in North and South Dakota by the white bordering State Sheriffs - grandparents, children, war veterans, anyone and everyone was targeted for murder by dismemberment and stabbings, especially in Pine Ridge (89 people that year alone). And as timing would have it, I was in the process of being expelled from Naropa University, five and a half years into my program there with a 4.0 grade average, bearing two babies along the way, for having finally taken a stand I was asked to by the Elders of Pine Ridge, regarding the unbridled theft and fraud going on at Naropa of their spirituality and culture. At one frozen moment I turned to my husband in all of this and said “Now I see why you call this a struggle”….

Rudy and Diana had informed us after the Tribunal that none of the Jurors would be sending any findings to them to present on the Floor of the UN in Geneva. (Like me, Diana was non-Indian, and was Rudy’s life mate and a highly efficient administrator for his vast works for Native Peoples.) They had told us that all the Jurors were threatened off from writing any findings, or simply gave no reason as to why they would be sending in no findings. I had been accosted myself during the Tribunal by certain men that were said to be ‘goons’ that worked for the Churches that ran the schools (the last body was found in 1986 on the grounds of one of the schools), and the RCMP (who ran quite a cover-up for the Church, the RCMP and the Government of Canada) made themselves very evident at the Tribunal to me. They would sit in the front rows in front of us - the line of Jurors - and I certainly got stared at in a manner that left me beyond unease. It was not these men who accosted me however. It was the men I spoke of above…two men that posed as champions of the issue (both white) and one of them went so far as to claim he was an Blackfoot from North America. A closer study of him over recent years has left me with no doubt that he is a very high level Department of Justice employee, in close proximity with our intelligence agencies. The other is a hoaxster, a fraud and worse I suspect. Where the latter has gone over the years, the very survivors that gave testimony have a strange way of being murdered while in his company. Worse yet, he has some alarming affiliations with traffickers and known serial killers of Native women, and the current ‘dissapperead’ (see Highway to Hell, Canada’s story of Missing Indigenous Women)…including Native children, especially from the downtown Vancouver Eastside, as it’s known (the inner city of Vancouver where homeless and vulnerable Native women and children end up in prostitution rings and worse). Again, I leave these ghosts unmanned for they are not worth having the voice they have stolen from the children I speak of from Grandmother’s Land.

The testimony of the survivors, mostly very elderly people, put me into that shock I spoke of above, landing me in between the place where living and dead is unclear. I had no idea what I was in for. There are no words to describe what I saw, heard and bore witness to over the three days of testimony. I am still in shock at this

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