Saving Oak Flat – July 22, 2025

by Jan Wiersma, Rochester Friends Meeting.

Early in July, I felt called back to Oak Flat, answering a plea from Dr. Wendsler Nosie, leader of the Apache Stronghold, for people of all faiths anywhere in the country/world to come together to pray for a miracle, to save Oak Flat from takeover by an international mining company on August 19. As I was testing the leading, another member of our local Makoce Ikikcupi support group reached out wondering if I was going as she was considering it also. That concurrence settled it for both of us. We contacted the OF coordinator with the Coalition to Dismantle the Doctrine of Discovery  who in turn put us in touch with others who were interested: the Episcopal bishop of SW Diocese, a Mennonite from Indiana that I knew from my training for accompaniment of the Apache Stronghold presence at Oak Flat, a Mennonite couple from Kansas, a large group of Land Justice Futures (16 sisters and supporters from various congregations; they used to be called Nones and Nuns and they travel around doing great organizing and activism!), and Kathy, a woman from Minneapolis who is part of the Makoce Ikikcupi Community.

So our Minnesota delegation consisted of three women. We all traveled Friday, July 18, and were picked up at the airport by the Kansas Mennonites for a weekend of prayer and ceremony attended by a great chorus of people at Oak Flat. We mingled with various Apache tribes, Diné (Navajo), Pomo, Lakota, Dakota, Anishinaabe (Ojibwe), and many faith traditions: Jewish, Buddhist, Muslim, along with Christians: Mennonite, Lutheran, Catholic, Episcopal, UCC, UU, Quaker, and the Catholic sisters mentioned. Oh, and one reporter from the Wall Street Journal. (He promised to send me his article!) Three Minnesotans and two Kansans rented an Airbnb in Superior, about 5 miles from Oak Flat, but many people camped right at Oak Flat, which was closed to the general public because of the ceremony.

The weekend was the culmination of a run starting Monday, from Mount Graham to Oak Flat – 2 linked sites, both sacred to the Apache, both subject to takeover by settler society and thus only occasionally open to the Apache for their traditional ceremonies; of course, living there again is out of the question. Spirits/Ga’an, the holy beings of the Apache, are said to travel between the two. The distance of 80 miles was covered by runners and walkers supported by teams in trucks. Most camped overnight along the way. Sacred water was taken from the spring at Mt Graham and carried back with them. Different runners took turns carrying the staff with the sacred feather and stone. Wendsler Nosie, leader of the Apache Stronghold, has been doing this run for over 30 years; this year in particular is important because of the imminent loss of Oak Flat to the Resolution Copper mine. About 40 or 50 people joined the run, including eight new trainees; the run became part of their training experience, which has been honed and perfected since I took it in September, ‘23.

No matter what happens at Oak Flat, Wendsler has committed to being present, moving ahead. The weekend alone was a powerful experience; how much more as the end goal of a week of bonding and sharing strength and hope? They did encounter troubles along the way: the cofa camp truck broke down almost immediately, the staff with the sacred feather and stone lost the feather, and the stone was broken – interpreted as a sign of opposition in the spiritual realm. On Thursday, at an outdoor meal stop, they were besieged by people in trucks who encircled them driving fast and throwing dust. Not appreciated! but they managed very well under pressure.

The weekend brought together people from across the nation to pray for what one friend calls an emerging and ongoing miracle to save Oak Flat from slow but total destruction.

In some ways the event was similar to others I attended with Bob in January ‘23, in other ways different. The camp itself has been rearranged, and the “kitchen” (outdoor cooking place) is a bit more sophisticated than it was then. We still congregated under Grandmother Oak–800 years old, she was born before the colonizers landed–and a few of her daughters. A small crew of hard-working women served all the meals from Friday dinner to Sunday lunch to between 60 and 100 people–and very hearty, delicious meals they were, too. Friday night’s included acorn dumpling stew and fry bread. Having prepared meals for 25-30 in a commercial kitchen at ARC, I could imagine the work involved – staggering!

Friday afternoon, after checking in at the Airbnb and resting a bit, we arrived at Oak Flat Campground in time for dinner, then enjoyed a celebratory evening of music. One Native performer rapped and led us in singing “Country Roads” (substituting “Native America” for “West Virginia”). He also sang traditional Apache songs – a very different musical art form. An elder Diné  woman also performed an incredible rap song of her own. Her daughter, Lyla June, is a professional singer and a scholar – check her out on YouTube! This woman also spoke on Saturday, very powerfully and seriously.

As I was one of eight previously trained accompaniers present, I was recruited to help provide security throughout the weekend. I call us the volunteer secret service. Trainees shadowed us. The “team on the ground” has become much more sophisticated in their surveillance and protection protocols since Bob’s and my stint, and I learned a lot. We took turns in pairs, switching every hour, all through Friday evening until 9, all day Saturday, and Sunday. Some people were turned away from camp, which was closed to outsiders by the Forest Service, but nothing scary or threatening happened. Rather, we were visited by hopeful signs: two rainbows, at least two hummingbirds (they are symbolically important to the Apache), as well as butterflies.

All the activities took place under the sheltering, nurturing arms of the oak trees at the main campsite. There is a burning ban, so we didn’t have a fire there; the trees provided shade, the temperatures were only in the 90s (heat index actually lower due to low humidity), and there was partial cloud cover and a little breeze. On Sunday there were actually a few sprinkles of rain, so we stayed pleasantly comfortable. Out in the sun, on the trails, the heat was a different story.

Saturday started at 5:15 with a group of young women who had all celebrated their sunrise dances there–the most sacred of all Apache ceremonies. They are lamenting the likely demise of this place of their rebirth, where the dance for them was like an umbilical cord linking them to that sacred earth and heaven, a time of their recognition as full women, responsible for their families and the tribe. Our group decided that was a bit too early to drive up for and waited until 7:30 to go, but Saturday was still a long day of taking my turn being on duty and listening to various speakers and singers from all over, settler (white) as well as Indigenous. One man from Sweden wearing a kilt performed some of the Indigenous drumming songs from his country. (Wendsler always tells settlers, “You’re all indigenous to somewhere!”) Kathy, the Minneapolis woman in our MN delegation trio, read a sad and powerful poem she had written about missing and murdered Indigenous women. Wendsler later picked up on that theme, referencing her poem and expanding on it. The issue is everywhere among Indigenous people.

Much of the day was “open mic,” but the session after breakfast started with the Ga’an or Crown Dancers, about which I cannot write a great deal. They were in full regalia and in top form, and their songs and dances were watched reverently. We were not allowed to take pictures of them as that captures the spirit. Hats and glasses are also not allowed among spectators/pray-ers. Those rules apparently didn’t apply to the visiting Pomo dancers from California, who assured us we could record or take pictures. They had four women and two men, all with very elaborate feather headdresses and their dances were quite different. Different again are the community dances, where drummers and singers (all men) sit in the middle of the open area and dancers move slowly and rhythmically around them. The dance is relatively simple and not strenuous, but long stretches can be very fatiguing! All are welcome to take part.

Pat, the Diné rapper and elder, who is also a globally recognized Indigenous leader, spoke of her time among the movers and shakers, billionaire tech giants of the world. They invited her, among others, to join the maiden voyage of a new ship across the Atlantic and speak to them of her perspective. They didn’t seem to recognize the irony of following the original colonizing voyage. After she had delivered her message to them on nurturing the earth, using resources wisely, learning from Indigenous peoples about living in harmony, she asked two men if they were just going to take her words and use them for profit. “Yes,” they replied. This is the mindset that needs to change, she emphasized. We can’t just squeeze Mother Earth dry, and then go on to conquer and colonize and use up other worlds. She ended her talk exhorting women to claim their power, to go out and “Speak with the authority of the Mother.”

Wendsler spoke at length at different times during the weekend. His message continues to be one of unifying those who understand the insanity of colonialist capitalism running unchecked, what Sarah Augustine and Sheri Hostetler call “ecological overreach,” of the inevitable death of the planet under these accelerating tendencies. Listening to all of those teachers, I am persuaded that rather than “sacrificing” the remaining Indigenous lands and all the biodiversity they contain in our insatiable demand for more energy, more technology, more streamlined lifestyles, we have to change our mindset – just as much as the billionaires do. The ways of the Apache, the Dakota, the Que’chan, the Diné, the Choctaw, the Potawatamie, are not a memory, or a vanishing way of life, but a promise of hope for renewal of life that has endured despite our nation’s best efforts to exterminate the people and suppress their cultures. We need to learn from them to live more gently on the earth.

Wendsler also spoke, of course, of the threat to Oak Flat. As things stand now, a second appeal to the Supreme Court has been made; there is some small hope for a different outcome this time. And a District court hearing on August 6 may result in another injunction delaying the handover. I will return to Oak Flat from August 3-11, so will be accompanying the Apache Stronghold for the action on that day, whatever it may be.

I also had the opportunity to speak with a lawyer and an archaeologist who have been working with the Apache Stronghold for decades and are thoroughly committed to the cause. They were kind enough to explain happenings from their long observation and involvement. In all, the weekend embodied an amazing confluence of goodwill and spirit-filled connection, a time of developing stronger relationships, deeper attachments.

I could write a detailed description of Sunday’s events, but I’m not sure it would be respectful to do so. The service, which started at 10, included 16 songs/dances, and many sacred rituals involving the “holy ground” where prayers are gathered, and from whence the “holy ground people” (angels) go out to spread compassion and assistance to a suffering world. When we had to depart at about 2 to catch our flights home, Wendsler was still speaking. I couldn’t help but think of John 14-17, John’s version of Jesus’ last evening with his disciples before his crucifixion. It seems all of his teachings are distilled in these four chapters – as though he knows he has one last chance to tell them to remember what he has been trying to show them through his life and love and ministry. “Love one another!” I trust that does not forbode Wendsler’s imminent death at the hands of the opposition; rather, underlying the joy and exuberance of the weekend was always the troubling thought: Is this the last dance to be performed here? The last ceremony? Will young girls never again experience their transition to womanhood here in the most sacred of all blessings?

Please, more than ever in these next weeks, pray for what one of us called an “emerging and ongoing miracle,” for the safety of Wendsler and all the Apache Stronghold, for a softening of heart and opening of eyes of nine Justices, and others in positions to make a change, even for a change of heart of Resolution Copper’s leaders. As Valarie Kaur says, “See no stranger. Everyone and everything is something part of you that you do not know yet.” These are good words for our movement. Go with love and compassion, go with understanding, meet violence without angry resistance, but stand firm in your convictions and purpose. The antidote to despair is action.

You can find updates about the Supreme Court case here: https://becketfund.org/case/apache-stronghold-v-united-states/