Post by blackcrowheart on Sept 27, 2006 17:05:55 GMT -5
A new day in Utah's Indian Country
Tribes tapping resources to boost coffers
By Lucinda Dillon Kinkead and Dennis Romboy
Deseret Morning News
www.desnews.com/dn/view/0,1249,650192875,00.html
<http://www.desnews.com/dn/view/0,1249,650192875,00.html> FORT
DUCHESNE, Uintah County � John Jurrius understands why people in
Indian Country don't trust him. He is a smooth-talking Texan who travels
by jet, drives a $50,000 "ride" and has been married more than once. He
is also white.
[Image] Keith Johnson, Deseret Morning News Maurice Serawop, right,
leads son Logan Bow, 2, father Max, center, and spiritual adviser
Richard Mendez, left, during Fort Duchesne ceremony. "I'm not here
to save you," he told tribal leaders before going to work for the
3,100-member Ute Tribe. "I'm not here to further your cause as Native
Americans."
What he would do, he told them, was get the most money possible
for oil and gas riches pulled from Utah's largest Indian reservation.
And the 45-year-old maverick has done just that. On the verge of
financial collapse in 2001, the tribe's stated worth now tops $100
million.
For his part, Jurrius receives a salary of $62,500 a month.
"We had to wake up. The federal government is not going to be here
to run our programs. We had to learn to take care of ourselves." �
Maxine Natchees, chairwoman, Ute Tribe's business committee
For 50 years, lackluster economic growth and debilitating poverty
on Utah's Indian reservations have not changed.
But a new day is dawning thanks to an energy boom,
"out-of-the-box" money-making strategies and more aggressive protection
of oil, gas, water and land resources in Indian Country.
A five-day series beginning today by the Deseret Morning News
examines these and other efforts by Utah's five Indian nations to
kick-start their economies. As part of the series "From Poverty to
Promise," reporters traveled to reservation lands throughout the state
and met with tribal elders, community leaders, state officials and
dozens of Utah's Native Americans to assess their financial future.
Tribal lands occupy 4 percent of the state, and tribal members
make up 2 percent of Utah's population. Many have moved to urban areas,
mostly along the Wasatch Front, but nearly 50 percent of Utah Indians
still live on their native homelands.
[http://www.desnews.com/i/advertisement3.gif] [Click here]
<http://xads.zedo.com/ads2/r?n=305;c=41/1;s=21;x=2304;u=j;z=[timestamp]>
What is clear, say experts on and off the reservations, is that the
future of Utah's Indian nations rests upon their ability to reclaim and
capitalize on their sovereignty. And tribal leaders say their efforts
today will determine the cultural, educational and economic livelihoods
of the young people among the state's 33,000 Native Americans.
It is, admittedly, an uphill battle.
Complicated cultural and geographic hurdles continue to stymie
growth, says Forrest Cuch, Utah's top official over Native American
issues.
And the transition to what Indian experts call
"self-determination" also requires a philosophic change in tribes'
reliance on the federal Bureau of Indian Affairs.
It's a good move, says Jonathan Taylor, an economic consultant who
worked for the Harvard Project on American Indian Economic Development.
"There's good empirical evidence that shows when a tribe takes
over from the federal government, the performance of the tribe's
government and economy increases."
Across the country, tribes have famously turned to casino
operations.
Under federal law, tribes are allowed to host legalized gambling
if their home state allows any semblance of the practice.
But in Utah, where the public, the Legislature and the powerful
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are against gambling, that
door is firmly closed.
So, without the money-making promise of gambling, Utah tribes have
become creative.
They have started businesses that translate top-secret federal
documents and that provide technology support for the U.S. Air Force.
They have ventured into the real estate business, flipping commercial
property and building housing and tourist and shopping sites.
[Image] Keith Johnson, Deseret Morning News Oil rigs are pumping
money into the Navajo economy, generating $2.7 million in oil revenues
each year for 8,000 Navajos in San Juan County. They own grocery
stores and gas stations. Children on the Navajo Reservation have even
formed a chocolate company.
Still, their primary economic efforts lie in the tribes' abilities
to capitalize on their natural resources.
"I'm an investment banker. I go in and make money and I leave."
� John Jurrius, financial adviser to the Ute Tribe
In the case of the Utes, the oil and gas was always there, buried
beneath the scrappy landscape of eastern Utah. Like many tribes
throughout the country, the Utes' wealth is in its land and resources,
but for years the value had been squandered by inattention and bad
business deals.
Jurrius � bolstered by the tribe's new economic development
philosophy � has changed all that.
Projects in the works today will make the tribe the third- or
fourth-largest oil producer in the Uintah Basin. And that means more
college scholarships for tribal members and more pensions for elders.
With his Cadillac Escalade and confident personality, Jurrius
makes no apologies about his salary.
"Do I make a lot of money?" Jurrius asks. "Sure. If they win, I
make millions."
This is the boldest � and most lucrative � example of a
local tribe taking charge of its future.
"We absolutely did just that," said Maxine Natchees, chairwoman of
the Ute Tribe. "We had to do something, and I really saw the promise in
this and the potential in this plan for our survival."
In fact, all five of the state's Indian tribes � backed by the
gusto and respect of Utah Gov. Jon Huntsman Jr. � are making more
money, taking risks and pushing the envelope in an effort to save their
rich cultures and the future of their young people. Consider the
following:
[Image] Keith Johnson, Deseret Morning News Young girls create
swirling patterns during the women's fancy dance at the Goshute powwow
on the reservation in Ibapah last month. Utah tribes treasure their
heritage as they look to the future. � The Shoshones had no
land and no cash a few years ago � today tribal leaders are
garnering property for at least $340 million in building projects. They
also run a company that translates classified documents for the U.S.
Department of Justice and the FBI.
Fortifying their finances will save the culture, said Mike Devine,
chief operating officer of the Northwestern Band of the Shoshone
Economic Development Corp. The 464-member tribe set goals to preserve
their language, songs, dances and crafts before launching its business
enterprises.
"If we do economic development," Devine said, "it's got to enhance
the culture."
� On the Navajo Reservation, high oil prices have helped
maintain an income of more than $2.7 million in oil revenues annually
for roughly 8,000 Navajos in San Juan County. The money goes to fund
college scholarships, housing, roads and utility and water lines. Today
those reserves are funding construction of a medical clinic in Monument
Valley.
� Lacking land and natural resources, the perpetually
impoverished Paiute Tribe started a computer services company two years
ago. Suh'dutsing, which means cedar tree, employs 28 people to do data
processing, network installation and software development for the
federal government. The Cedar City company has a standing policy to pay
no less than $10 per hour, though many salaries are higher.
"It's not a jobs program," said Carey Wold, senior vice president
for business development. "We're in this to make money."
� The Goshute Band in Ibapah is one of the poorest tribes in
the state. The annual powwow has been canceled in some years because of
cost. The reservation on the state's barren westernmost border has few
resources, but new tribal chairman Rupert Steele is a college-educated
administrator with a fresh enthusiasm for problem solving.
[Image] Keith Johnson, Deseret Morning News Utah Gov. Jon Huntsman
Jr. talks with Navajo Nation president Joe Shirley in Window Rock, Ariz.
Utah has more than 8,000 Navajos. In some cases, these aggressive
efforts have met formidable resistance inside and outside of the tribe.
The Skull Valley Band of Goshutes has tangled with the state and
federal government for nearly a decade over a proposal to store nuclear
waste on its reservation in western Utah.
A confidentiality clause prevents financial specifics from being
revealed, but most presume the facility would generate millions of
dollars every year for the the band over the 25-year lease. But the
unpopular plan has drawn sharp criticism from politicians, the public
and other tribes. In the late 1990s, singers and drummers from the
Shoshone Nation performed at the Utah Capitol in a protest over the
proposal.
Just this month, the U.S. Department of Interior and the Bureau of
Indian Affairs drove what some say is the final nail in the coffin when
they denied a land lease to Private Fuel Storage.
Tribal Chairman Leon Bear sees that as wresting from the tribe its
right to self-determination.
"If what they say is true in the decision, I think it's an attack
on our sovereignty," he said. The tribe will keep fighting.
"If they have the final say, they should just go ahead and take
over the reservation and manage it for us," Bear said. "We are a people
out here, and we should be able to decide our own fate."
"It's about the emerging generation and doing what's necessary for
them." � Utah Gov. Jon Huntsman Jr.
Aside from the controversial nuclear storage issue, most tribal
officials say there has never been a more favorable climate for tribes
in Utah, and Huntsman gets much of the praise for this phenomenon.
The governor has been a stronger advocate for Indian rights and
issues than any administration in the state's history, says Brigham
Young University law professor Larry EchoHawk, himself a member of the
Pawnee Tribe and Idaho's former attorney general.
[Photo] In fact, Huntsman pledged early in his tenure to visit
each of Utah's five Indian reservations to meet with tribal leaders
about issues, and he has done so.
In May, Huntsman traveled to Cedar City to meet with the Paiute
Tribe. His staff and tribal elders brainstormed better methods for
teaching Paiute children, how to improve the business culture within the
tribe and how to get a suicide prevention program off the ground.
It was the first time a Utah governor had met with the tribe.
"He sat there for two hours and talked to those people," said
Cuch, director of Utah's Division of Indian Affairs. "We were so
impressed with that."
In August, Huntsman attended the quarterly Navajo tribal council
meetings, where concerns of Utah's 8,000 Navajos are addressed.
"I doubt there's been a governor that has ever addressed the
Navajo Nation," EchoHawk said. "The tribe believes that is very
important."
The state and tribe believe they share common interests.
"We are all on the same side. We are all human beings. Why we go
up against each other sometimes, it's baffling," said Joe Shirley,
president of the massive Navajo Nation, which spans parts of Utah,
Arizona and New Mexico.
Huntsman says he will continue to advocate for better education,
economic development, environmental protections and water conservation
on Utah's Indian reservations.
"It is the future of the tribes," Huntsman said in a Deseret
Morning News interview. "If we are not successful, the tribes cease to
be relevant, and that's not an acceptable outcome for anyone."
The effects of poverty � especially profound on Goshute land
in Ibapah and on Utah Navajo territory � are sobering.
A 2005 student survey in Monument Valley on the Navajo Reservation
in southern Utah and northern Arizona showed 40 percent of students
there had no running water or electricity at home; fewer still have
Internet access.
Iowa Test scores for Utah eighth- and 11th-grade students in 2006
show Native American students performing at the 36th percentile, lower
than Hispanics and English language learners and only one percentile
higher than children with disabilities.
Cuch says suicide rates among Native American young people are
five times the the national average. The birth rate among Native
Americans has increased, but the mortality rate has also increased.
"That's why these economic plans are so important," says Natchees.
"It takes money to provide what we need to fix these problems."
Tribes tapping resources to boost coffers
By Lucinda Dillon Kinkead and Dennis Romboy
Deseret Morning News
www.desnews.com/dn/view/0,1249,650192875,00.html
<http://www.desnews.com/dn/view/0,1249,650192875,00.html> FORT
DUCHESNE, Uintah County � John Jurrius understands why people in
Indian Country don't trust him. He is a smooth-talking Texan who travels
by jet, drives a $50,000 "ride" and has been married more than once. He
is also white.
[Image] Keith Johnson, Deseret Morning News Maurice Serawop, right,
leads son Logan Bow, 2, father Max, center, and spiritual adviser
Richard Mendez, left, during Fort Duchesne ceremony. "I'm not here
to save you," he told tribal leaders before going to work for the
3,100-member Ute Tribe. "I'm not here to further your cause as Native
Americans."
What he would do, he told them, was get the most money possible
for oil and gas riches pulled from Utah's largest Indian reservation.
And the 45-year-old maverick has done just that. On the verge of
financial collapse in 2001, the tribe's stated worth now tops $100
million.
For his part, Jurrius receives a salary of $62,500 a month.
"We had to wake up. The federal government is not going to be here
to run our programs. We had to learn to take care of ourselves." �
Maxine Natchees, chairwoman, Ute Tribe's business committee
For 50 years, lackluster economic growth and debilitating poverty
on Utah's Indian reservations have not changed.
But a new day is dawning thanks to an energy boom,
"out-of-the-box" money-making strategies and more aggressive protection
of oil, gas, water and land resources in Indian Country.
A five-day series beginning today by the Deseret Morning News
examines these and other efforts by Utah's five Indian nations to
kick-start their economies. As part of the series "From Poverty to
Promise," reporters traveled to reservation lands throughout the state
and met with tribal elders, community leaders, state officials and
dozens of Utah's Native Americans to assess their financial future.
Tribal lands occupy 4 percent of the state, and tribal members
make up 2 percent of Utah's population. Many have moved to urban areas,
mostly along the Wasatch Front, but nearly 50 percent of Utah Indians
still live on their native homelands.
[http://www.desnews.com/i/advertisement3.gif] [Click here]
<http://xads.zedo.com/ads2/r?n=305;c=41/1;s=21;x=2304;u=j;z=[timestamp]>
What is clear, say experts on and off the reservations, is that the
future of Utah's Indian nations rests upon their ability to reclaim and
capitalize on their sovereignty. And tribal leaders say their efforts
today will determine the cultural, educational and economic livelihoods
of the young people among the state's 33,000 Native Americans.
It is, admittedly, an uphill battle.
Complicated cultural and geographic hurdles continue to stymie
growth, says Forrest Cuch, Utah's top official over Native American
issues.
And the transition to what Indian experts call
"self-determination" also requires a philosophic change in tribes'
reliance on the federal Bureau of Indian Affairs.
It's a good move, says Jonathan Taylor, an economic consultant who
worked for the Harvard Project on American Indian Economic Development.
"There's good empirical evidence that shows when a tribe takes
over from the federal government, the performance of the tribe's
government and economy increases."
Across the country, tribes have famously turned to casino
operations.
Under federal law, tribes are allowed to host legalized gambling
if their home state allows any semblance of the practice.
But in Utah, where the public, the Legislature and the powerful
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are against gambling, that
door is firmly closed.
So, without the money-making promise of gambling, Utah tribes have
become creative.
They have started businesses that translate top-secret federal
documents and that provide technology support for the U.S. Air Force.
They have ventured into the real estate business, flipping commercial
property and building housing and tourist and shopping sites.
[Image] Keith Johnson, Deseret Morning News Oil rigs are pumping
money into the Navajo economy, generating $2.7 million in oil revenues
each year for 8,000 Navajos in San Juan County. They own grocery
stores and gas stations. Children on the Navajo Reservation have even
formed a chocolate company.
Still, their primary economic efforts lie in the tribes' abilities
to capitalize on their natural resources.
"I'm an investment banker. I go in and make money and I leave."
� John Jurrius, financial adviser to the Ute Tribe
In the case of the Utes, the oil and gas was always there, buried
beneath the scrappy landscape of eastern Utah. Like many tribes
throughout the country, the Utes' wealth is in its land and resources,
but for years the value had been squandered by inattention and bad
business deals.
Jurrius � bolstered by the tribe's new economic development
philosophy � has changed all that.
Projects in the works today will make the tribe the third- or
fourth-largest oil producer in the Uintah Basin. And that means more
college scholarships for tribal members and more pensions for elders.
With his Cadillac Escalade and confident personality, Jurrius
makes no apologies about his salary.
"Do I make a lot of money?" Jurrius asks. "Sure. If they win, I
make millions."
This is the boldest � and most lucrative � example of a
local tribe taking charge of its future.
"We absolutely did just that," said Maxine Natchees, chairwoman of
the Ute Tribe. "We had to do something, and I really saw the promise in
this and the potential in this plan for our survival."
In fact, all five of the state's Indian tribes � backed by the
gusto and respect of Utah Gov. Jon Huntsman Jr. � are making more
money, taking risks and pushing the envelope in an effort to save their
rich cultures and the future of their young people. Consider the
following:
[Image] Keith Johnson, Deseret Morning News Young girls create
swirling patterns during the women's fancy dance at the Goshute powwow
on the reservation in Ibapah last month. Utah tribes treasure their
heritage as they look to the future. � The Shoshones had no
land and no cash a few years ago � today tribal leaders are
garnering property for at least $340 million in building projects. They
also run a company that translates classified documents for the U.S.
Department of Justice and the FBI.
Fortifying their finances will save the culture, said Mike Devine,
chief operating officer of the Northwestern Band of the Shoshone
Economic Development Corp. The 464-member tribe set goals to preserve
their language, songs, dances and crafts before launching its business
enterprises.
"If we do economic development," Devine said, "it's got to enhance
the culture."
� On the Navajo Reservation, high oil prices have helped
maintain an income of more than $2.7 million in oil revenues annually
for roughly 8,000 Navajos in San Juan County. The money goes to fund
college scholarships, housing, roads and utility and water lines. Today
those reserves are funding construction of a medical clinic in Monument
Valley.
� Lacking land and natural resources, the perpetually
impoverished Paiute Tribe started a computer services company two years
ago. Suh'dutsing, which means cedar tree, employs 28 people to do data
processing, network installation and software development for the
federal government. The Cedar City company has a standing policy to pay
no less than $10 per hour, though many salaries are higher.
"It's not a jobs program," said Carey Wold, senior vice president
for business development. "We're in this to make money."
� The Goshute Band in Ibapah is one of the poorest tribes in
the state. The annual powwow has been canceled in some years because of
cost. The reservation on the state's barren westernmost border has few
resources, but new tribal chairman Rupert Steele is a college-educated
administrator with a fresh enthusiasm for problem solving.
[Image] Keith Johnson, Deseret Morning News Utah Gov. Jon Huntsman
Jr. talks with Navajo Nation president Joe Shirley in Window Rock, Ariz.
Utah has more than 8,000 Navajos. In some cases, these aggressive
efforts have met formidable resistance inside and outside of the tribe.
The Skull Valley Band of Goshutes has tangled with the state and
federal government for nearly a decade over a proposal to store nuclear
waste on its reservation in western Utah.
A confidentiality clause prevents financial specifics from being
revealed, but most presume the facility would generate millions of
dollars every year for the the band over the 25-year lease. But the
unpopular plan has drawn sharp criticism from politicians, the public
and other tribes. In the late 1990s, singers and drummers from the
Shoshone Nation performed at the Utah Capitol in a protest over the
proposal.
Just this month, the U.S. Department of Interior and the Bureau of
Indian Affairs drove what some say is the final nail in the coffin when
they denied a land lease to Private Fuel Storage.
Tribal Chairman Leon Bear sees that as wresting from the tribe its
right to self-determination.
"If what they say is true in the decision, I think it's an attack
on our sovereignty," he said. The tribe will keep fighting.
"If they have the final say, they should just go ahead and take
over the reservation and manage it for us," Bear said. "We are a people
out here, and we should be able to decide our own fate."
"It's about the emerging generation and doing what's necessary for
them." � Utah Gov. Jon Huntsman Jr.
Aside from the controversial nuclear storage issue, most tribal
officials say there has never been a more favorable climate for tribes
in Utah, and Huntsman gets much of the praise for this phenomenon.
The governor has been a stronger advocate for Indian rights and
issues than any administration in the state's history, says Brigham
Young University law professor Larry EchoHawk, himself a member of the
Pawnee Tribe and Idaho's former attorney general.
[Photo] In fact, Huntsman pledged early in his tenure to visit
each of Utah's five Indian reservations to meet with tribal leaders
about issues, and he has done so.
In May, Huntsman traveled to Cedar City to meet with the Paiute
Tribe. His staff and tribal elders brainstormed better methods for
teaching Paiute children, how to improve the business culture within the
tribe and how to get a suicide prevention program off the ground.
It was the first time a Utah governor had met with the tribe.
"He sat there for two hours and talked to those people," said
Cuch, director of Utah's Division of Indian Affairs. "We were so
impressed with that."
In August, Huntsman attended the quarterly Navajo tribal council
meetings, where concerns of Utah's 8,000 Navajos are addressed.
"I doubt there's been a governor that has ever addressed the
Navajo Nation," EchoHawk said. "The tribe believes that is very
important."
The state and tribe believe they share common interests.
"We are all on the same side. We are all human beings. Why we go
up against each other sometimes, it's baffling," said Joe Shirley,
president of the massive Navajo Nation, which spans parts of Utah,
Arizona and New Mexico.
Huntsman says he will continue to advocate for better education,
economic development, environmental protections and water conservation
on Utah's Indian reservations.
"It is the future of the tribes," Huntsman said in a Deseret
Morning News interview. "If we are not successful, the tribes cease to
be relevant, and that's not an acceptable outcome for anyone."
The effects of poverty � especially profound on Goshute land
in Ibapah and on Utah Navajo territory � are sobering.
A 2005 student survey in Monument Valley on the Navajo Reservation
in southern Utah and northern Arizona showed 40 percent of students
there had no running water or electricity at home; fewer still have
Internet access.
Iowa Test scores for Utah eighth- and 11th-grade students in 2006
show Native American students performing at the 36th percentile, lower
than Hispanics and English language learners and only one percentile
higher than children with disabilities.
Cuch says suicide rates among Native American young people are
five times the the national average. The birth rate among Native
Americans has increased, but the mortality rate has also increased.
"That's why these economic plans are so important," says Natchees.
"It takes money to provide what we need to fix these problems."