By Amy Felegy for Arts Midwest.
Broadcast version by Judith Ruiz-Branch for Wisconsin News Connection reporting for the Arts Midwest-Public News Service Collaboration

Patty Loew attended five screenings of a new film this year. She wasn't joining box office masses at Wicked or Inside Out 2, but Bad River: A Story of Defiance.

The independent documentary, directed by Mary Mazzio and released in March, drew in masses of its own. AMC Theatres put it up on select big screens across the United States. Peacock started streaming it last month.

The documentary highlights longstanding issues facing the Bad River Band of Lake Superior Chippewa in northern Wisconsin. Loew 'Waswaagonokwe' (Torch Light on the Water Woman) is a citizen.

She and other Band members are interviewed in the film, which explores tragic boarding school histories and how members of the Band have faced violence and racism.

The documentary heavily focuses on the Line 5 dispute between the Band and Canadian energy company Enbridge. Loew, who recently retired as director of the Center for Native American and Indigenous Research at Northwestern University (among many other titles), addresses it in the film.

"My little tribe is standing up and saying, 'We're protecting the water, not just for us. We're protecting water for the planet.'"

Behind the Struggle

As it stands, 12 miles of a crude oil and natural gas pipeline run through Bad River land, constructed in 1953. In 2017, Bad River's tribal council voted against renewing the company's rights to use their land. It led to years of protests and activism when Enbridge refused to leave. Last summer, a federal judge gave Enbridge three years to shut down the pipeline on the reservation.

That reservation includes just under 40 miles of Lake Superior shoreline, thousands of wetland acres, and hundreds of miles of streams, rivers, and tributaries.

The documentary shows its beauty. Think grandiose drone shots and stunning water imagery.

"Bad River is where I go when I need my batteries recharged, when I need time to reflect, when I just need to get back in touch with things that make me happy," Loew says.

Last month, the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources issued construction permits for Line 5 to reroute 41 miles south of the reservation and exit Bad River lands by 2026.

But Loew and other Band members who are interviewed in the film say that isn't enough to protect Mashiiziibii land and nearby areas from a potential pipeline burst. They want it shut down.

Enbridge lawyers and the U.S. government say they can't, citing a 1977 energy treaty with the Canadian government. But Bad River citizens say Ojibwe treaties, which established reservations and land rights, predate that by over 100 years.

"If such a rupture were to occur, nearly one million gallons of oil would spill into the river, flowing into Lake Superior and devastating the wild rice beds and fishing populations central to the Band's way of life," stated 30 Midwestern Native Nations in a letter to the White House in February.

There have been over 20 spills along the Line 5's 645-mile route since 1968, including over 14,000 gallons in Bad River land in 1972.

Despite the continued debate, Loew has hope.

"The right thing will eventually happen," she says.

"I think everyone-whether you live in a red or a blue state, or whether you are Native or non-Native-[wants] clean water and clean air, not just for themselves, but for their children and grandchildren."


Amy Felegy wrote this story for Arts Midwest.


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The Jackson-based group Native American Jump Start has been providing grants to Native students, interns and young workers for decades and this year, has added an ambassador program.

Nine ambassadors across the country will help spread the word on Native American Jump Start opportunities, up to 100 microgrants per year to help, among others, students at any level of higher education.

Wicahpi Chaddlesone-Yankton, grant and operations coordinator for the group, said they want to highlight more student voices and half of ambassadors in the first cohort are current students.

"We wanted to have our ambassadors work with their Native student centers or organizations on their campus and just help bring NAJS's voice into a bigger light," Chaddlesone-Yankton explained.

The group is funded by private donations and therefore will be directly affected by cuts from the Trump administration. Meanwhile, the Native American Rights fund in March sued the U.S. Interior Department and the Office of Indian Affairs over the federal administration's cuts to the Bureau of Indian Education.

O'Shay Birdinground comes from the Great Apsaalooke Nation and will graduate this spring from the University of Montana. He first used Jump Start funding to attend a conference. Now as an ambassador, Birdinground encouraged "future Indigenous leaders" to take advantage of educational opportunities.

"There are a lot of opportunities out there for education and leadership development," Birdinground emphasized. "I wouldn't hesitate to jump on any one of those opportunities that is provided to you."

The application period for Native American Jump Start's education grant funding for this fall opens April 1.

Support for this reporting was provided by Lumina Foundation.

Indigenous people have made great contributions to the state of Wisconsin yet the alarming rates of violence against them remains a public health crisis.

A new study showed intimate partner violence disproportionately impacts Indigenous women more than any other ethnic or racial group in the U.S. The murder rate for Native American women and girls is up to 10 times higher than the national average, according to the U.S. Department of Justice, yet they account for less than 1% of the population.

Desiree Tody, outreach program coordinator at the Center Against Sexual and Domestic Abuse and a member of the Red Cliff Band of Lake Superior Chippewa, said violence against Native women is underreported and unaddressed.

"There's jurisdictional issues that come into play as to how things are investigated, how things are tried, and there's always racism," Tody observed. "There's less attention paid to the individuals that some of these things happen to."

The Wisconsin Department of Justice created a task force to combat violence against Native women across the state after legislation which would have addressed the issues failed to pass. There are currently no upcoming task force meetings listed on the newly updated DOJ website.

Poor tracking and data collection are among the many issues contributing to the epidemic among Indigenous women. During a multistate march last month, Tody read a list of names of Indigenous people from Minnesota who had died from domestic violence. No such list currently exists for Wisconsin and Tody noted she is working to change it.

She emphasized the great need to address the systems in place, which continue to fail Native people.

"I have three daughters that I want them to grow up as strong Native women and I want them to grow up safely as strong Native women," Tody explained. "This is their futures on the line. This is their ability to walk down a street safely."

Research shows Indigenous women also face significant barriers when seeking help after experiencing domestic violence. A survivor of domestic violence herself, Tody works with the Center Against Sexual and Domestic Abuse to provide resources for those affected in Bayfield and Ashland counties. Gov. Tony Evers has proposed a $20 million funding increase for domestic abuse services in his current executive budget.


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More than 14,000 incarcerated people in Washington are not able to vote and two bills in Olympia aim to change it.

One bill would make voting more accessible for people in jail by improving access to the voter's pamphlet and voter registration forms. Another would allow people in prison in Washington to vote for the first time in the state's history.

Charles Longshore is incarcerated at the Washington Corrections Center for Men in Shelton. He does advocacy work from prison and said without the right to vote, it is not easy to get a legislator's attention.

"I've helped draft a bill that's before the legislature this session and leading on several other bills," Longshore pointed out. "But I find that it's difficult because you have no reason to be accountable to me."

Longshore is a Skokomish tribal member and said giving the vote to incarcerated people would help right historical wrongs against Indigenous people, who were not given the full right to vote until 1965. Data show Native Americans are vastly overrepresented in the criminal legal system.

Opponents of allowing people to vote from prison said voting is a privilege and breaking laws should mean you lose your voice.

Anthony Blankenship, senior community organizer for the advocacy group Civil Survival, said everyone is a constituent, whether they get to choose who represents them or not. He argued allowing incarcerated people to vote will help with their rehabilitation.

"We have to be able to see and understand what they need to be successful and what they need to not recidivate or go back to prison or harm anyone ever again," Blankenship emphasized.

Blankenship added it is unlikely the bills will pass this session but it is important to keep raising the issue.

"We have to keep on pushing," Blankenship urged. "We have to keep on saying that these are opportunities for people to be part of our community and not be on the outside looking in."