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dakota access pipeline

This is the end of the Standing Rock camp. For now.

Photo by Stephen Yang/Getty Images.

After a Trump administration executive order, the Army Corps of Engineers ordered protesters to vacate the camp by 2 p.m. local time on Feb. 22, 2017. Authorities were set to physically remove everyone in the way of the Dakota Access Pipeline's construction upon sacred Native American land.


In a symbolic gesture, the protesters set fire to their camp.

Photo by Stephen Yang/Getty Images.

“People have said their last prayers, and offered cedar to the sacred fire and are also burning these structures we have ceremonially built, so they must be ceremonially removed,” Vanessa Castle of the Lower Elwha Klallam tribe told the Seattle Times.

Here are some images of those last moments.

Photo by Stephen Yang/Getty Images.

Photo by Stephen Yang/Getty Images.

Photo by Stephen Yang/Getty Images.

Photo by Stephen Yang/Getty Images.

Photo by Stephen Yang/Getty Images.

Photo by Stephen Yang/Getty Images.

We can still stand with Standing Rock and help them as they take their struggle from the ground to the courtroom. For more information, visit the official Standing Rock Sioux Tribe site.

Photo by Stephen Yang/Getty Images.

This story is from Tony Sorci, a member of the Navajo nation, about his time spent as a protester at the Oceti Sakowin camp in Cannon Ball, North Dakota, as told to Upworthy. It has been edited for content and clarity.

Every morning at 10 o'clock, I walk into the water and say my prayers.

Some people jump into the water, wash their faces, and come right out. It's cold. But I spend a lot of time in the water because that's how I was raised — to say my prayers in the water no matter how cold it got in North Dakota.


How long will I be able to get in that water and pray, when it's still safe?

A water protector goes out to the river for a swim. Photo by Robyn Beck/AFP/Getty Images.

I heard about Standing Rock at a tribal conference in Washington state last summer. I figured going there was my duty to my grandmother.

I'm half-Navajo and half-Italian-American, from Big Mountain Reservation, originally Black Mesa, in Arizona. My grandmother was Roberta Blackgoat, the renowned relocation resister — she never signed anything, never left the land. I've been living with her as my hero for a long time.

Native Americans usually follow their mother's side, so over the years I've become more traditional in that way. There's a direct correlation between how we treat our mother and what our children are doing to themselves.

The Colorado River in Arizona, near the Big Mountain Rez. Photo by Mladen Antonov/AFP/Getty Images.

For me, it's really sad that we've gotten to this point.

Our grandmas are out there praying for clean water, and the government is mistreating them.

There's a psychological war going on in Standing Rock: Just across the water, a couple hundred yards away, there are DAPLs (the term water protectors use for the private security and heavy machinery crews hired by the pipeline company) armed to the gills with itchy fingers waiting for some action.

But this isn't a game. It shouldn't be fun. What are they protecting? Who are they protecting? Who are they serving?

The DAPLs are obviously put in a predicament because they do have to feed their families. Obviously, if they're going to disobey orders, they're not going to be getting paid.

Photo by Robyn Beck/AFP/Getty Images.

For a lot of people, money is the driving force when it comes to the Dakota Access Pipeline.

So our goal, as protesters, is to hit their wallets with peaceful and nonviolent direct action. With each action, DAPLs will be forced to respond — which costs them money.

The organizers of the protest gather in the mornings at the the Big Camp and divide tasks, figuring out what will be the most beneficial. Many of us drink coffee around the fire in the morning with our gas masks already on, ready to go.

We aim to enact around 10 actions a day. Some people might go up to Bismarck, some stay at camp, some might protest on the bridge. My job has been canoeing on the water, trying to get the attention of the DAPLs and spreading them out a little. Then there are more covert ops, like gathering intel about where the police snipers are, or about the pipeline workers who try to disguise themselves as water protectors.

Photo by Robyn Beck/AFP/Getty Images.

When I know they have nonlethal weapons, I'm not afraid.

I'm a big guy, and things don't hurt me like they hurt other people.

I grew up playing lacrosse, and the closest thing to hand-to-hand combat is getting hit in the chest with a lacrosse ball at 100 mph. So I know they're gonna ding me up a little bit, but I'm here to protect the people. While I protest, I wear turquoise. I'm Navajo and we're supposed to wear our best jewelry when we travel.

Spiritually, I'm where I need to be: saying my prayers in the water, being loving and caring, and not letting fear creep in. Because if I do that, what about the other people who are anxious? Who are they going to look up to?

A Navajo veteran, wearing his protective turquoise. Photo by Saul Loeb/AFP/Getty Images.

It's not all organized, though. There are some young kids and gung-ho guys who wanna prove themselves as protesters and show how brave they are.

Not everyone sees as clearly as others. But that's what we're trying to get to.

One day, a white guy walked up to the communications tent all ready to go with two hoodies on and a big puffy jacket. He couldn't even put his backpack on; it was hanging down to his butt, and I just had to laugh. Is he using more resources than he brought here?

Another day, we were at the base of a sacred burial mound — they call it Turtle Mountain there. There's DAPLs on one side, and water protectors on the other, and then one white guy just ran into the cold water screaming: "Come on! Everybody follow me! I'll lead you!" And no one followed him. We were all like: "No! It's cold! Stay over there!" So he went over there and shook the DAPLs' hands, and they didn't even arrest him. Then he just ... stayed on the other side.

Looking back, it was kinda funny. Protesting is kind of funny.

Photo by Robyn Beck/AFP/Getty Images.

There are so many different walks of life on Earth, though.

A lot of non-Natives are really solid dudes who provide skills and are an asset to have in camp. Two kids from Seattle were staying with my camp, for example, and one was a leather worker. He actually made me a new medicine pouch, which was huge for me and a powerful thing for him to walk away from. He wasn't a pro at his skills, but he was an asset. He was there for a reason, and taking things from this in a positive manner.

I know that when he goes back to Seattle, he's just going to want to come back here to Standing Rock.

Photo by Jim Watson/AFP/Getty Images.

There's a joke around camp that the longer you've been here, the harder it is to tell who's who.

When you first arrive, you can tell who's from which nation. But after a while, people start adapting, exchanging, and engaging with all the other cultures. It's really cool and powerful.

I got really close with some descendants from Hawaii who were here. One night they sang a prayer for us at our camp, a chant, and it really gave me goosebumps. When you're out in the water there, you have to use different intonations and rhythms for sound to travel, so I'd never heard something like that. I was infatuated.

I learned a lot from those new experiences in and of themselves. Stuff like this can snowball and have a positive effect for the camp, and for all of us.

Water protectors use a "home pole" to show where they came from. Photo by Scott Olson/Getty Images.

One thing we're all doing is inviting people to camp every day.  

There's always something to do, whether it's chopping wood, emptying the garbage to bring to the deposit place, keeping the camp clean, setting up or breaking down someone's tent or campsite, or even getting water. Now that the water's starting to freeze, it's always a battle trying to get it warm.

Every morning I cook for as many people as I can. Cast-iron skillets, two of 'em, packed with potatoes, eggs, onions, and spinach — just mass amounts of food for people. You're also cooking for all the new people that come to camp, so usually there's a stew on, some sort of corn, so that people can grab a bowl if they need to throughout the day.

A lot of people think they're going to lose weight by going to camp. But Indians love their food — especially fried bread. And there are a lot of fried bread makers here.

Photo by Jim Watson/AFP/Getty Images.

When we leave, we smudge with sage. It cleanses the air and the people. It's purifying.

Right before a big fire hose attack, we were gearing up to leave for Bismarck that night. I didn't know what else was going down — a lot of direct actions kind of remain silent from one another — so I was by the car saging myself, like usual. We were waiting for my friend to leave, and they said, "Go ahead, and we'll leave in five or 10 minutes."

So we hit the road and figured they would follow.

A water protector holds a roll of burning sage for smudging. Photo by Scott Olson/Getty Images.

On my way out, we started seeing cop cars driving toward the camp. We turned around to try to go back and see what was going on, but it was blocked. It was hard to drive away from that. I wasn't able to drag anyone away or shield anybody or protect anybody that day. The timing of that really affected me.

Photo by Robyn Beck/AFP/Getty Images.

Our fight is looking up right now. But we want to be a spark, to make this a tipping point for other pipelines to be stopped.

The story doesn't stop in North Dakota.

I don't know what's going to happen now. I can't see the future. But it's a very historic time that we're living in. We're getting this new civil rights movement with Native Americans, after we've been saddling it for so long. A new, strong network is being built. Connections are being made and new family is being found all the time.

Big Camp is basically a communication center, and a spiritual one, that we all carry with us. Now it's going to spiderweb out from there.

How fast will this ripple effect grow? I don't know. Only time will tell. But I'm trying to do everything in my power to expedite the situation.

Wes Clark Jr. is about as close as it gets to U.S. Army royalty.

The son of a renowned four-star general, Clark was born while his father was still fighting in Vietnam. He grew up at various Army bases all across the country before attending Georgetown University's School of Foreign Service, followed by four years of active duty as a cavalry officer.

Wes Clark Jr. (left) with his father on the Democratic primary campaign trail in 2003. Photo by Michael Springer/Getty Images.


When 9/11 happened, Clark was living in New York City. He was eager to re-enlist, but his father talked him out of it. Since then, Clark has looked to other ways of making the world better. Now he's a writer, a climate activist, and a co-host of the popular political web series "The Young Turks."

Clark had been following the ongoing Dakota Access Pipeline conflict for months. As he watched the news, he became more and more enraged.

To Clark, this wasn't just a violation of human rights. It was an insult to veterans like him and his family.

Why? Because despite their continued mistreatment by the U.S. government, Native Americans have been fighting in the American armed forces for 200 years at very high enlistment rates.

Yankton Sioux veterans received the Congressional Medal of Honor in 2013 on behalf of their tribe's contributions as code talkers during World War I. Photo by Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images.

"First Americans have served in the United States Military, defending the soil of our homelands, at a greater percentage than any other group of Americans," Clark wrote. "There is no other people more deserving of veteran support."

Clark took an oath when he joined the Army. He swore to "support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic." And by that oath, he believes he and his fellow veterans should be defending the Standing Rock Sioux from the human rights violations perpetrated against them in the past months, both from police departments and private security forces.

Clark put his uniform back on and organized the movement Veterans Stand for Standing Rock. On Dec. 3, 2016, he and his troops left for North Dakota.

The veterans made a plan to join the Standing Rock Sioux in ceremony and prayer at the Oceti Sakowin camp, then form a human shield around the water protectors in direct nonviolent action against the pipeline construction.

"We are there to put our bodies on the line, no matter the physical cost, in complete non-violence to provide a clear representation to all Americans of where evil resides," the co-organizers wrote in the group's official mission briefing.

"We’re not going out there to get in a fight with anyone. They can feel free to beat us up, but we’re 100% nonviolence," Clark added in an interview with Task & Purpose.

The Oceti Sakowin Camp near Cannon Ball, ND after a snowfall. Photo by Scott Olson/Getty Images.

More than 2,000 veterans joined the cause — many more than the 500 they had originally had hoped for.

Photo by Jim Watson/AFP/Getty Images.

The veterans arrived on Dec. 4, and everything went according to plan. There were sage cleansings...

Photo by Scott Olson/Getty Images.

...and a human barricade to protect people from a police line.

Photo by Jim Watson/AFP/Getty Images.

By evening, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers had denied an easement for the pipeline's construction, putting its future in doubt.

Of course, the main credit for this victory should stand with the steadfast water protectors who have been camped out for months and who struggled for decades before that, too. But the massive veteran presence certainly helped.

Photo by Scott Olson/Getty Images.

Last night, on the veterans' first day at camp, there was celebration — but the battle isn't over.

Energy Transfer Partners, the main company behind the pipeline, is still refusing to back down — and given recent violence in pursuit of ETP's goals, it would be foolish for the water protectors to turn their backs just yet. Which means that both the camp and the veterans will remain in place, perhaps indefinitely.

The men and women who serve this country in uniform have always understood the "American experiment" is a work in a progress — and our Native American brothers and sisters have always been intimately aware of just how fragile that experiment can be. But they can all agree that environmental destruction and state-sponsored violence are not compatible with the ideal of freedom on which the country was founded.

As one tribal elder said during Sunday's celebration: "Tomorrow we fight, tonight we dance."

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A huge win for the people protesting at Standing Rock — and for all of us.

The federal government stepped in to put plans for a pipeline on hold.

After a months-long standoff, Native Americans at the Standing Rock Sioux reservation in North Dakota got some great and unexpected news from the federal government.

On Sunday afternoon, the Army Corps of Engineers put plans for the Dakota Access Pipeline on hold while it explores alternate routes for the $3.7 billion project.

Interior Secretary Sally Jewell said in a statement that the decision "underscores that tribal rights reserved in treaties and federal law, as well as Nation-to-Nation consultation with tribal leaders, are essential components of the analysis to be undertaken in the environmental impact statement going forward."


Photo by Jim Watson/AFP/Getty Images.

It's a win for the water protectors of the Standing Rock Sioux tribe, for indigenous rights as a whole, and for anyone who believes in the power of peaceful protest and organization — but there's still a long way to go.

The Standing Rock Sioux tribe reflected on the victory, thanking tribal youth, the thousands of individuals who came to show support in person, the tens of thousands who helped from afar through donations, and other tribal nations that joined them in solidarity. Still, they understand the next few months will be crucial to the long-term safety of the land.

"We hope that [Energy Transfer Partners CEO Kelcy] Warren, Governor Dalrymple, and the incoming Trump administration respect this decision and understand the complex process that led us to this point," the statement read. "When it comes to infrastructure development in Indian Country and with respect to treaty lands, we must strive to work together to reach decisions that reflect the multifaceted considerations of tribes."

Navy deep-sea diving veteran Rob McHaney leads a group of veteran activists back from a police barricade near Oceti Sakowin Camp. Photo by Jim Watson/AFP/Getty Images.

Photo by Jim Watson/AFP/Getty Images.

So, what happens now? According to a report by the Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis, the pipeline's financial backer faces a rapidly approaching deadline that it's now sure to miss.

If Energy Transfer Partners misses the Jan. 1, 2017, deadline to finish the project, companies committed to ship oil through the pipeline at 2014 prices have the option of rescinding their support for the pipeline.

What does this mean? In short, even if the Trump administration reverses course on Sunday's decision, many of the companies keeping the project afloat financially can deliver their own blow to the pipeline's prospects. Should the administration go forward with the pipeline, putting pressure on some of the companies involved to pull out of the agreement might be the next step in pipeline activism.

Photo by Jim Watson/AFP/Getty Images.

Fighting for what's right is a group effort, and the victory at Standing Rock truly shows that it's up to all of us to press for change.

With the help of religious leaders, Native American tribes and activists, celebrities, and many others, the Standing Rock Sioux tribe claimed a huge victory in both the fight for its land and the fight for justice.

Though not over by any means, what unfolded at Standing Rock can serve as a lesson for those who feel helpless in our current political climate: If we join together, we can overcome seemingly insurmountable challenges.

Photo by Jim Watson/AFP/Getty Images.

For now, and hopefully for good, DAPL is leaving Standing Rock.

Photo by Jim Watson/AFP/Getty Images.