Heroes

Ever heard of the Gwich'in people? One member is afraid they won't last another 2 generations.

He's one of the last few hundred speakers of the Gwich'in language.

Ever heard of the Gwich'in people? One member is afraid they won't last another 2 generations.
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Sierra Club

Trimble Gilbert is one of the few remaining speakers of a language that UNESCO rates as "severely endangered."

He lives in a tiny town near the Arctic Circle in Alaska, close to the Alaska National Wildlife Refuge. The town, population 152, is called Arctic Village.

Gilbert is a Gwich'in Athabascan elder and one of the last few hundred speakers of the Gwich'in language.


Listen to his story here, accompanied by beautiful images of his native land:

When Gilbert was born, the Gwich'in were still a highly nomadic people.

He was born in 1935. The Gwich'in were still largely nomadic through the 1950s, traveling seasonally with their food sources.

Gilbert shares, "At the time I was born, I remember how my family and the Gwich'in people lived. They took care of animals and held them in high respect. They also took care of the land."

Image via Sierra Club.

The Gwich'in people span a wide area across northern Alaska and Canada, encompassing over a dozen communities. For example, some live near the lakes of Old Crow, Yukon (Vuntut Gwitch'in), whereas others are in the flats of Fort Yukon, Alaska (Gwich'yaa Gwich'in). Today, crossing the U.S.-Canadian border isn't nearly as simple as it used to be.

"Everywhere they traveled on the land, they would not kill animals without reason."

As a nomadic people, the Gwich'in have always relied heavily on animals and the land for survival. Gilbert explains, "They would not kill animals without reason." Their relationship with the land was based on mutual respect.

The Gwich'in people live close to the land and have been fighting for many years to protect it.

Even today, Gwich'in people continue to hunt caribou as the caribou migrate near their home, across the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.

Image via Sierra Club.

But the land that sustains the herds of caribou — and in turn sustains the Gwich'in culture — has been part of an oil development conversation for decades.

A recent Al Jazeera profile of Arctic Village adds context to Gilbert's words:

“Since the late 1980s, the Gwich'in people, who live in 15 villages that stretch from Alaska into Canada, have been deeply involved in a fight to stop the push for oil development on the coastal plain of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge."

Nobody wants an oil disaster. But that's what drilling near Arctic Village could mean.

26 years ago, Gilbert's life was "touched by a shadow" when the Exxon Valdez tanker spilled 11 million gallons of oil off the coast of Alaska. While the spill was 500 miles south of Gilbert's land, he told People Magazine, "I keep thinking about what is happening to the native people there who live off the land."

"I keep thinking about what is happening to the native people there who live off the land."

Today, discussions are still happening that could mean more oil spills — closer to Gwich'in land — and more disruption of the caribou calving grounds.

Gilbert says, "If they destroy the land, it will be the end of the Gwich'in people."

The only way to truly sustain his people, Gilbert knows, is to put an end to the oil development projects near their land.

This is the only way the Gwich'in culture can "continue living beyond the next two generations."

"If they destroy the land, it will be the end of the Gwich'in people."

Courtesy of Amita Swadhin
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In 2016, Amita Swadhin, a child of two immigrant parents from India, founded Mirror Memoirs to help combat rape culture. The national storytelling and organizing project is dedicated to sharing the stories of LGBTQIA+ Black, indigenous people, and people of color who survived child sexual abuse.

"Whether or not you are a survivor, 100% of us are raised in rape culture. It's the water that we're swimming in. But just as fish don't know they are in water, because it's just the world around them that they've always been in, people (and especially those who aren't survivors) may need some help actually seeing it," they add.

"Mirror Memoirs attempts to be the dye that helps everyone understand the reality of rape culture."

Amita built the idea for Mirror Memoirs from a theater project called "Undesirable Elements: Secret Survivors" that featured their story and those of four other survivors in New York City, as well as a documentary film and educational toolkit based on the project.

"Secret Survivors had a cast that was gender, race, and age-diverse in many ways, but we had neglected to include transgender women," Amita explains. "Our goal was to help all people who want to co-create a world without child sexual abuse understand that the systems historically meant to help survivors find 'healing' and 'justice' — namely the child welfare system, policing, and prisons — are actually systems that facilitate the rape of children in oppressed communities," Amita continues. "We all have to explore tools of healing and accountability outside of these systems if we truly want to end all forms of sexual violence and rape culture."

Amita also wants Mirror Memoirs to be a place of healing for survivors that have historically been ignored or underserved by anti-violence organizations due to transphobia, homophobia, racism, xenophobia, and white supremacy.

Amita Swadhin

"Hearing survivors' stories is absolutely healing for other survivors, since child sexual abuse is a global pandemic that few people know how to talk about, let alone treat and prevent."

"Since sexual violence is an isolating event, girded by shame and stigma, understanding that you're not alone and connecting with other survivors is alchemy, transmuting isolation into intimacy and connection."

This is something that Amita knows and understands well as a survivor herself.

"My childhood included a lot of violence from my father, including rape and other forms of domestic violence," says Amita. "Mandated reporting was imposed on me when I was 13 and it was largely unhelpful since the prosecutors threatened to incarcerate my mother for 'being complicit' in the violence I experienced, even though she was also abused by my father for years."

What helped them during this time was having the support of others.

"I'm grateful to have had a loving younger sister and a few really close friends, some of whom were also surviving child sexual abuse, though we didn't know how to talk about it at the time," Amita says.

"I'm also a queer, non-binary femme person living with complex post-traumatic stress disorder, and those identities have shaped a lot of my life experiences," they continue. "I'm really lucky to have an incredible partner and network of friends and family who love me."

"These realizations put me on the path of my life's work to end this violence quite early in life," they said.

Amita wants Mirror Memoirs to help build awareness of just how pervasive rape culture is. "One in four girls and one in six boys will be raped or sexually assaulted by the age of 18," Amita explains, "and the rates are even higher for vulnerable populations, such as gender non-conforming, disabled, deaf, unhoused, and institutionalized children." By sharing their stories, they're hoping to create change.

"Listening to stories is also a powerful way to build empathy, due to the mirror neurons in people's brains. This is, in part, why the project is called Mirror Memoirs."

So far, Mirror Memoirs has created an audio archive of BIPOC LGBTQI+ child sexual abuse survivors sharing their stories of survival and resilience that includes stories from 60 survivors across 50 states. This year, they plan to record another 15 stories, specifically of transgender and nonbinary people who survived child sexual abuse in a sport-related setting, with their partner organization, Athlete Ally.

"This endeavor is in response to the more than 100 bills that have been proposed across at least 36 states in 2021 seeking to limit the rights of transgender and non-binary children to play sports and to receive gender-affirming medical care with the support of their parents and doctors," Amita says.

In 2017, Mirror Memoirs held its first gathering, which was attended by 31 people. Today, the organization is a fiscally sponsored, national nonprofit with two staff members, a board of 10 people, a leadership council of seven people, and 500 members nationally.

When the pandemic hit in 2020, they created a mutual aid fund for the LGBTQIA+ community of color and were able to raise a quarter-million dollars. They received 2,509 applications for assistance, and in the end, they decided to split the money evenly between each applicant.

While they're still using storytelling as the building block of their work, they're also engaging in policy and advocacy work, leadership development, and hosting monthly member meetings online.

For their work, Amita is one of Tory's Burch's Empowered Women. Their donation will go to Mirror Memoirs to help fund production costs for their new theater project, "Transmutation: A Ceremony," featuring four Black transgender, intersex, and non-binary women and femmes who live in California.

"I'm grateful to every single child sexual survivor who has ever disclosed their truth to me," Amita says. "I know another world is possible, and I know survivors will build it, together with all the people who love us."

To learn more about Tory Burch and Upworthy's Empowered Women program visit https://www.toryburch.com/empoweredwomen/. Nominate an inspiring woman in your community today!

This article originally appeared on 11.21.16


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When a pet is admitted to a shelter it can be a traumatizing experience. Many are afraid of their new surroundings and are far from comfortable showing off their unique personalities. The problem is that's when many of them have their photos taken to appear in online searches.

Chewy, the pet retailer who has dedicated themselves to supporting shelters and rescues throughout the country, recognized the important work of a couple in Tampa, FL who have been taking professional photos of shelter pets to help get them adopted.

"If it's a photo of a scared animal, most people, subconsciously or even consciously, are going to skip over it," pet photographer Adam Goldberg says. "They can't visualize that dog in their home."

Adam realized the importance of quality shelter photos while working as a social media specialist for the Humane Society of Broward County in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.

"The photos were taken top-down so you couldn't see the size of the pet, and the flash would create these red eyes," he recalls. "Sometimes [volunteers] would shoot the photos through the chain-link fences."

That's why Adam and his wife, Mary, have spent much of their free time over the past five years photographing over 1,200 shelter animals to show off their unique personalities to potential adoptive families. The Goldbergs' wonderful work was recently profiled by Chewy in the video above entitled, "A Day in the Life of a Shelter Pet Photographer."