by Charmaine White Face
As I sat in the informational meeting being conducted by the US Forest Service regarding their roadless area proposal, I was mesmerized by the map of the Black Hills and the two tiny brown spots at the top of the map. Those brown spots and a small nail head of brown off to the left side completely surrounded by private land, represented the roadless areas in the Black Hills. If the map was the size of a dinner table place mat, the brown spots would have been the size of thumbtacks.
I finally had to ask what percentage of the roadless areas did these brown spots represent. The Forest Service officials said that of the 1,200,000 acres (yes, 1.2 million acres) of federal land in the Black Hills, these ”inventoried roadless areas” cover 14,000 acres, or one percent, and they are not completely roadless. Their definition of a road was it had to be 50 inches wide and maintained for motor vehicle travel. That didn’t mean it had to be graveled or blacktopped. The only difference under this new Forest Service proposal is that no new roads could be built. Any other activities could still be carried out.
I looked at the two tiny brown spots again. Their names were the Sand Creek Area, and the Beaver Park Area. The tiny nail head off to the left was Inyan Kara in Wyoming. The question and answers went on around me. I tried to catch as much as I could but those brown spots kept grabbing my attention.
Were these the last wildlife areas in the Black Hills? I didn’t even consider the Black Elk Wilderness. Too many two–legged people walk through their already. But I had heard rumors of a mining company wanting to expand in the Sand Creek Area. The Forest Service official said that a company could open a mine if they had an existing claim under the 1872 Mining Act. I started to feel sick. The last tiny, remaining roadless areas in the Black Hills, and yet someone wanted to dig for gold in there. It was like watching the polluting of the last glass of pure water.
I thought of all the medicines that grow in the Black Hills. I thought of the countless sacred places where my ancestors went to pray. I thought of the spirits that live in “Hesapa.” To watch these last little tiny spots of wilderness disappear right before my very eyes was too much. I left the meeting and cried. Was this the way my great–great grandparents felt when they saw the first gold miners and soldiers enter the sacred Black Hills? Was this the way my grandmother felt when she would tell me over and over again about the sacredness of “Hesapa”? What could I tell my grandchildren?
The meeting was to give information and answer questions. Another meeting is scheduled for June 27, 2000, at the Ramkota Hotel in Rapid City, for people to give comments to the Forest Service about their roadless area proposal. I would be there. My one voice would probably not carry much weight, but at least I could tell my grandchildren I tried.
The Forest Service is also accepting written comments. The address is: USDA Forest Service–CAET, Attention: Roadless Area Conservation Proposed Rule, PO Box 221090, Salt Lake City, UT 84122.
I hope that many Lakota, Dakota, and Nakota people will come to give their comments on June 27th. Maybe if enough of us speak up about the Treaties and the sacredness of the Black Hills, maybe someone in a power position will listen. I’m not too hopeful. They haven’t listened yet. But I must keep using my one voice to try to protect some small portion of the sacredness of our Grandmother Earth. After all, She gives us so much. It’s the least I can do.