Tribes Not Exempt from U.S. Labor Laws

By ERICA WERNER, Associated Press Writer

Indian tribes are subject to federal labor laws, an appeals court ruled Friday in a case that could lead to stricter labor protections — and more unions — at the nation's booming Indian casinos.

A three-judge panel of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit rejected arguments from a wealthy Southern California tribe that as a sovereign government, it should not be subject to those laws.

"Tribal sovereignty is not absolute autonomy, permitting a tribe to operate in a commercial capacity without legal constraint," said the opinion written by Judge Janice Rogers Brown.

The ruling stemmed from an organizing dispute at a casino run by the San Manuel Band of Mission Indians, 60 miles east of Los Angeles, where a union filed a complaint with the National Labor Relations Board arguing that another union was getting preferential access.

San Manuel contested the complaint by asserting the labor board didn't have jurisdiction because federal law establishes Indian tribes as sovereign governments.

The labor board disagreed in a 2004 opinion that, for the first time, said tribes are covered by the National Labor Relations Act that bars unfair labor practices and gives workers the right to organize and bargain with employers.

At stake are protections and bargaining rights for some 250,000 workers at the nation's 400-plus tribal casinos. The ruling comes as tribal gambling has exploded into a $22 billion-a-year industry — richer than Las Vegas — with Indian casinos in 28 states.

A few tribal casinos in California are unionized , including San Manuel, but most workers at Indian casinos are nonunion. Unions have been trying hard to make inroads with the growing work force but say they've had trouble without the protection of the National Labor Relations Act.

"We are disappointed by the ruling today," said Henry Duro, chairman of the San Manuel Band of Mission Indians. "We believe that these gaming projects help tribes to fulfill essential governmental functions by providing education, health care, housing, senior care and other key programs. Those are basic governmental obligations that could be impacted by this decision."

The Tribes' Battle Against Problem Gamblers

By Bobby Barrett, Chairman, California Tribal Business Alliance

San Diego Union-Tribune, February 8, 2007

(A recent) study concludes that the state has not done nearly enough to address the problem, committing only $3 million annually to fund the state's Office of Problem and Pathological Gambling. I agree with the study's conclusion, and I'm sure most of my brothers and sisters from Indian Country would concur. In fact, California's Indian gaming tribes have recognized the potential for problem gambling ever since the first compacts were signed in 1999, and they have contributed significantly to efforts to fight problem gambling.

Nearly seven years ago, Californians cast votes that forever changed the economic, political and cultural landscape of the state. That's when the second of two referendums that cleared the way for Indian gaming in the Golden State passed overwhelmingly. It would be hard to overstate the impact that Indian gaming has had since then – on Indians and non-Indians alike.

By late 1999, 61 tribal governments had signed gaming compacts with the state of California, which had already established other forms of gambling, including the state lottery, horse tracks and card clubs. The Indian gaming compacts provided tribes with the exclusive rights to Nevada-style gaming on their reservation lands. In exchange, th e tribes agree to make payments of varying levels to the state and meet various other obligations.

For instance, the five tribes represented by the California Tribal Business Alliance – the Viejas, Pala and Pauma bands in San Diego County, the Paskenta Band in Tehama County and the United Auburn Indian Community in Placer County – contribute $135 million annually to the state under terms of their agreements. As part of their gaming compacts, the tribes also share significant portions of their gaming revenue with California tribes that do not have gaming, as well as with neighboring communities to help offset local impacts from their gaming operations, including traffic and fire safety.

At the same time, following the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act, tribal gaming revenue is directed specifically to support tribal operations, building homes, schools and roads and providing health care and other services to improv e the general welfare of their tribal members. And finally, these compacts specifically require the participating tribes to fund programs to address problem gambling.

The bottom line: Since voters approved Indian gaming in California, gaming has become a $15 billion industry that has contributed mightily to California's economy. And for many tribes whose members had faced generations of abject poverty, gaming has virtually erased unemployment, drastically improved housing, health care and social services, and it has finally created a cause for hope.

But that's not to say there haven't been costs as well, both on the reservation and off. Recently, a state-commissioned study projected there were nearly 1 million adults who have developed “significant, lifetime problems related to gambling.” The study concludes that the state has not done nearly enough to address the problem, com mitting only $3 million annually to fund the state's Office of Problem and Pathological Gambling.

I agree with the study's conclusion, and I'm sure most of my brothers and sisters from Indian Country would concur. But it's also important to know where that $3 million in annual funding comes from: California gaming tribes. The Office of Problem and Pathological Gambling has been fully funded by the state's gaming tribes. This office, though arguably in need of additional support, has financed important research into the issue of problem gambling, developed programs to train and certify problem-gambling counselors, printed problem-gambling brochures that can be found in casinos and other gambling venues across the state, and is currently developing an assisted self-recovery program for problem gamblers. These efforts have been fully funded by California's gaming tribes, and this is an ongoing commitme nt with funding year after year.

In fact, California's Indian gaming tribes have recognized the potential for problem gambling ever since the first compacts were signed in 1999, and they have contributed significantly to efforts to fight problem gambling. Our tribe, the Viejas Band of Kumeyaay Indians, for example, developed a Responsible Gambling Program in 1999 to train casino employees on how to identify problem gamblers, remove them from the casino floor and direct them to help. Viejas has partnered with the California Council on Problem Gaming on a number of initiatives. Viejas helps fund the operation of CCPG's problem gambling hotline (1-800-GAMBLER), and we work with the organization to recruit counselors who specialize in other areas, such as alcohol and drug abuse, to become certified to treat problem gamblers. With additional support from other gaming tribes, 36 of these training sessions have been held in 11 counties, h elping 448 people to become certified problem-gambling counselors.

Viejas also has what we believe to be the most stringent self-exclusion rule of any casino in the country. Anyone who is identified by a family member, friend or other – or even him-or herself – as having a gambling problem, immediately gets referred to the manager on duty, who interviews the person off the casino floor, refers the person to assistance programs, at which point the person will be excluded from the casino for life. These are just some of the ways that the Viejas band has stepped up to the plate to address this serious social issue, and our tribe is only one example of many across the state.

Within hours of the study's release, media reports focused on Indian gaming – how the industry has contributed to problem gaming and what gaming tribes have done to combat it. Those are legitimate issues, and while the state and Indian tribes have attempted to address them, there's no doubt that more needs to be done. But I would also suggest those same questions need to be asked of others.

Buried in some media reports, and not mentioned at all in others, is the fact that this recent study on problem gambling surveyed people who gambled on the state lottery, at horse tracks and in card rooms – not only at tribal casinos. At the very least, the same questions that are asked of California's gaming tribes must also be asked of these other parties, as well as state taxpayers.

Without a doubt, each of us has an interest in combating this problem. One newspaper report quoted an official with an anti-gambling group as saying that those of us involved in gambling are not addressing the issue of problem gamblers because “those are their best customers.” Nothing could be further from the truth. Talk about a losing bet: Problem gamblers are destructive to themselves, their fami lies and friends and society in general. Ultimately no one wins with problem gamblers, and therefore it is imperative that we are all part of the solution.

California's gaming tribes have, indeed, committed significant resources to help fight problem gambling. If it is determined that more must be done, we stand ready to work with the governor, state lawmakers, others in the gaming industry and taxpayers to ensure that we are all meeting our commitments.

Barrett is chairman-elect of the Viejas Band of Kumeyaay Indians, chairman of the California Tribal Business Alliance and a certified problem-gambling counselor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We hold that the Forest Service's approval of the proposed expansion
of the Snowbowl, including the use of treated sewage effluent to make artificial snow, violates RFRA," a three-judge panel of the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals wrote.

The Religious Freedom Restoration Act, or RFRA, holds that the federal
government may not "substantially burden a person's exercise of
religion." The dispute is one of the most prominent in recent years pitting the religious beliefs of American Indians against local economic
interests.

According to the Navajo Nation, the San Francisco Peaks are sacred to more than 13 Native American nations. "They walked all over our dignity," Navajo Nation President Joe Shirley Jr. said in 2005. "You're committing genocide; you're demeaning us." The Arizona Snowbowl ski resort, 150 miles north of Phoenix, wanted to use artificial snow to enable skiing throughout the winter and says the move in the San Francisco Peaks is crucial to its economic survival.

Organized skiing started at Snowbowl in 1938, but has depended on
highly variable natural snowfall rather than using artificial snow as
at many U.S. resorts. In many years, enthusiasts can ski for more than 100 days a year, although in the especially poor 2001-2 season there were only four days when skiing was possible.

Last year, a U.S. District Court judge backed the plans to allow a $25
million upgrade on the 777-acre facility on federal forest land to
include the use of treated sewage water.

The Navajo Nation, which has an estimated 300,000 tribal members in
Arizona, New Mexico and Utah, joined several other tribes and
environmental groups to fight the decision.

The appeals court decision described the religious significance of the
Peaks to the Navajos, Hopi, Hualapai, Havasupai tribes, among others,
and how sewage is treated to make reclaimed water.

"The record supports the conclusion that the proposed use of treated
sewage effluent on the San Francisco Peaks would impose a burden on
the religious exercise of all four tribes discussed above – the
Navajo, the Hopi, the Hualapai, and the Havasupai," wrote Judge
William Fletcher.

"We are unwilling to hold that authorizing the use of artificial snow
at an already functioning commercial ski area in order to expand and
improve its facilities, as well as to extend its ski season in dry
years, is a governmental interest 'of the highest order."

A federal appeals court in San Francisco today struck down a
government agency's plan to allow recycled wastewater to be used to
make snow at an Arizona ski resort on a mountain sacred to American
Indians.

The 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals said the plan by the U.S. Forest
Service and the operators of the Arizona Snowbowl would violate the
federal Religious Freedom Restoration Act.

The plan would have allowed the spraying of up to 1.5 million gallons
per year of treated sewage effluent to make artificial snow at the
Snowbowl, a resort within the Coconino National Forest in northern
Arizona.

The reclaimed water would be supplied by the city of Flagstaff.

The mountain has longstanding religious significance to at least 13
native tribes, including the Navajo and Hopi peoples, the court said.

Several Indian groups along with the Sierra Club and the Center for
Biological Diversity sued to block the plan.

A three-judge panel of the appeals court said the use of the
wastewater would violate the religious freedom law because it would
prevent the Indian groups from practicing their religion.

Circuit Judge William Fletcher wrote that the tribes' "religious
practices require pure natural resources."

He said that "because their religious beliefs require that the
mountain be viewed as a whole living being, the treated sewage
effluent would in their view contaminate the natural resources
throughout" the mountain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The people v. FERC
Eureka hearing-goers tell agency to drop the dams

story by HEIDI WALTERS

It seemed like everybody was there. Some had driven the riverine,
twisty highways out of the mountains of the mid-Klamath region --
from Orleans, Somes Bar, Salmon River, Blue Creek. Others came from
the mouth of the Klamath. Some moseyed over from their Eureka homes
or from Arcata and McKinleyville, or traveled up from southern
Humboldt or Sacramento.

There were Yurok, Karuk and Hupa people. There were non-Indians.
Ocean fishers. River guides. Congresspeople, or their reps. There
were college students, scientists, kids, conservationists, city
people, river people and even a sympathetic farmer or two.

It was Thursday night, and inside the Red Lion in Eureka the Federal
Energy Regulatory Commission was holding a hearing on its draft
environmental impact report for the proposed relicensing of
PacifiCorp's Klamath River dams, now owned by billionaire Warren
Buffett. The Klamath Hydroelectric Project's 50-year license expired
in March, and FERC is considering relicensing the project for another
30 to 50 years. This hearing was one in a series being held across
the region before the public comment period ends Dec. 1.

But, just like the last time FERC came to town for a Klamath River
meeting, the agency had underestimated the numbers that would show
up. Even before the official start time of 7 p.m. arrived, the long,
narrow room was already packed to the gills -- 250 people, the
maximum allowed. Further entry was barred in order not to incur the
wrath of the fire marshal or induce death by suffocation among the
attendees.

So for the next nearly five hours, about 150 thwarted people wriggled
up and down the long, tight, packed hallway outside the hearing
doors, waiting for a chance to be let in as others left. Some of them
gave up and went home. Many wandered in and out of a room across the
hall from the hearing that the Northcoast Environmental Center had
reserved for the anticipated stranded attendees. There were speeches,
protest signs -- "Un-dam the Klamath!" -- and informational posters
and a new video by the Klamath Salmon Media Collaborative called
"Solving the Klamath Crisis: Keeping Farms and Fish Alive."

Inside the NEC room, biologist Pat Higgins was explaining to a
passerby the Klamath's water quality and temperature problems and the
dams and dikes that have caused them, and how FERC's recommendations
in the draft EIS fall short. He and other critics, including the
National Marine Fisheries Service, say FERC's draft EIS analyzes the
removal of just two dams, when it should consider removal of all four
of the lower dams -- Copco I and II, J.C. Boyle, Iron Gate -- that
have blocked fish from 350 miles of river for decades. FERC staff,
instead, recommend trapping and trucking some Chinook salmon around
the dams to repopulate a portion of upstream river. Critics say such
a plan is weak, and besides would do nothing for the other species
who once had passage to the upper reaches, such as the coho salmon,
steelhead, lamprey and green sturgeon.

"Trap and haul -- they tried it in the `60s, when they built Iron
Gate Dam, and it didn't work," Higgins said. "I think they need to
take the [four main hydro] dams out. They need to leave Link River
Dam, which regulates water levels in Klamath Lake, for the fish. And
if they leave Keno Dam, they need to restore the wetlands adjacent to
the Klamath River in that reach."

Back out in the hallway, the crowd grew. Even Toxic Algae Monster was
there, haunting a corner by the kitchen doors in her green fuzzy hat,
green-painted face and green clothes and holding a big cardboard sign
that said "Please don't leave. Stay until your voice is heard!!!"
Rani Rhoar, who's lived in Orleans by the Klamath River for 12 years,
said she was at FERC's hearing in Yreka the day before and at a water
quality board meeting in Sacramento before that. But this was the
first time she'd dressed up as the toxic algae that has been
increasingly plaguing the river and its reservoirs.

"When I first moved to the Klamath River, I used to swim in it," she
said. "Today, I don't swim in it, I don't raft in it, I don't touch
it. They need to remove the Klamath dams and restore the river. And
make humane decisions."

Standing near the algae monster were fellow Orleans residents Quentin
Peterson, with blue and purple dyed hair and earrings, and Richard
Buhler, whose bright red dyed hair, red-satin-lined black trench coat
and kind young face made him look like a friendly devil. (Unlike the
algae monster, this is their usual look.) They grew up in Orleans.
Peterson's a firefighter, crab fisherman and part-time river guide.
He said he tries to make it to every river-related meeting he can.
"My dad was a river guide my whole life, drift-boat guiding and
rafting trips. I was raised in a boat. I caught my first fish when I
was 3 years old." He and Buhler reminisced about the rope swing they
used to play on that hung from a bridge over the river. "Now I won't
go in the Klamath," Peterson said. "I won't let my animals in the
water. I took people out rafting a couple times this summer, but we
had to go to the Salmon River instead. We canceled a couple of trips.
I was there for the fish kills in 2002 -- there were so many dead
fish, we couldn't get the boat in the water. Also, half the reason I
go to the river is its beauty. Now it's gross. There's algae hanging
off the rocks, every pool is stagnant."

Buhler, who crews on salmon and crab boats, said for this year's
salmon season -- closed in Oregon and California, for the most part,
because of low salmon counts in the Klamath -- he had to go to Alaska
to work. "I would prefer to stay here," he said. "But if you fish for
a livelihood, you can't skip a season."

Down the hall, Nat Pennington wanted to talk about the Salmon River,
where he lives. It's un-dammed, and the cleanest major tributary to
the Klamath River. But it has had "the three lowest runs of spring
and fall Chinook in record history," said Pennington. "So we feel
like the water quality issues created in the Klamath are a major
impact on our salmon runs."

Near him stood Jason Reed, who'd just been interviewed by a TV
station. Like many of the young men there that night, he wore a knit
cap with traditional tribal designs. Reed, a College of the Redwoods
student, is Karuk and Hupa. "Salmon is like a family to us," he said.
"What are we going to do when the salmon is gone? I was raised on the
river. I remember there being lots of fish. I remember packing -- in
gunny sack's -- like, five fish at a time. And this was just one
round. Pack 'em, clean 'em, and go back to the river again for more.
Today, we're lucky if we get five."

Back at the other end, Hoopa Valley Tribal chairman Clifford Lyle
Marshall and the tribe's senior attorney, Grett Hurley, stood
talking. "I'm surprised that there aren't more people here," Marshall
said. "[But] this is a healthy showing. It's a reflection of the
widespread concern. It's not just Indians and it's not just
fishermen. It's people from Eureka. And other places."

Finally, some space opened up inside the hearing rPhoto of Rani
Rhoaroom. There, rows and rows of people -- including several
children, holding large salmon puppets on sticks, from the American
Indian Academy Charter School in McKinleyville -- faced a table at
which sat three FERC men. One after another, the people stood and
delivered lengthy speeches, some fact-filled, others emotional. The
FERC men, their job here simply to listen, sat silently -- white,
gray, impassive, eyelids fluttering shut. They hadn't taken a break,
and no doubt were weary. Even so, the scene seemed like the
personification of a choked river full of desperate salmon leaping at
an immovable concrete wall.

State Senator Wesley Chesbro was just getting up to speak. "You can
hear the frustration in the voices" of these people, he said. The
draft EIS, he said, was flawed, and FERC should tear down not two
dams, but four -- and the state would be there with the cash to help
restore the river.

Right: Rani Rhoar, toxic algae monster.

Then a familiar figure took the floor. As he spoke, the crowd tensed
and glared at him. "My name is Dennis Mayo, I'm a native Humboldt
County boy," he said. He warned that he might offend some people.
"I'm here tonight to make comments from the farming and ranching
community, and also as a recreational fisherman and a past commercial
fisherman and an avid duck and goose hunter. I have farmed and
ranched throughout the Klamath Basin and I currently have stock on
feed in the upper Klamath. My community is sick and tired of the
almost xenophobic way the environmental groups have attacked us and
our livelihood. It has to stop. In the past we have been played off
against the native and fishing communities in every conceivable way."

Mayo accused environmentalists of hurting "working folks" and helping
destroy rural communities. He told FERC they were not to be trusted.
But then he said: "We want FERC to know that we don't need these dams
for our irrigation, or flood control, and that we are getting no
benefit from the meager electrical output. We want FERC to know that
the Klamath dams have not only lived out their usefulness as electric
generators, they might have also lived out the life blood of the
river: the salmon. If that happens and the salmon die, also dies the
life blood to the soul of the Klamath's native peoples. That cannot
be allowed to happen. We want to tell FERC that we will see to it
that our neighbors are not stomped on, broken or bankrupted as we
make sure these dams are decommissioned."

He implored the by-now confused "enviro community" to "get off the
superiority trip," and he asked the Northcoast Environmental Center
to pull from its website "the discriminatory caricature of a fat
cowboy/potato farmer with his pockets stuffed full of cash."

After that, a Yurok man remembered three kids who'd gone swimming in
the river, even though they were told not to, and came out covered in
bumps. A commercial fisherman said he's fished for 30 years in the
ocean, and though he's suffered from the Photo of crowd at the
hearingrecent restrictions, his "heart goes out to the Indians" more.
Lyn Risling, Karuk-Yurok and a Hoopa Valley Tribe member, likened the
loss of traditional foods such as salmon, deer, acorns and berries to
a continued genocide of her people, ravaged now by diabetes and other
ills.

Back out in the hallway, Dale Ann Frye Sherman -- half Yurok, half
Tolowa -- and Yurok Tribe members David Gensaw, Sr. and Willard
Carlson, Jr. were getting ready to leave. They hadn't had a chance to
give their comments yet, but midnight was approaching and some people
had to work the next day. They seemed deflated.

"They're going to do it anyway," said Gensaw about the FERC team.
"Their attitude -- they don't even want to be here. They're falling
asleep. And why are we pleading? We should be demanding!"

"They don't even live here," said Sherman.

"If they don't tear those dams down, and they get relicensed, the
writing's on the wall," said Gensaw. "The salmon will be gone."

"And, in essence what that means is, we as a people will be gone,"
added Sherman.

"You can't convince me it wasn't a conspiracy," said Gensaw. "If they
kill the system, if they kill the fish, then they won't have a fight
for the water. The water's like oil. We've got a war on because of
oil. But you can live without oil."

They talked about the fish wars in the 1970s when the federal
government showed up in the Indian river communities wearing riot
gear while the Indians fought for their traditional fishing rights.

But there was a glimmer of hope, they admitted. "This is the first
time I've come to the Red Lion [for a hearing] in years that the
people didn't say, `The Native Americans overfished with their gill
nets,'" said Carlson, who lives on Blue Creek, a tributary to the
Klamath.

"They used to be our enemies," said Gensaw about all the non-Indians
at the hearing. "Now they're our allies."

USDA ISSUES EMERGENCY FOOD STAMPS IN San Diego COUNTY

San Diego County Eligible Zip Codes:

Tribes Not Exempt from U.S. Labor Laws

By ERICA WERNER, Associated Press Writer

USDA ISSUES EMERGENCY FOOD STAMPS IN San Diego COUNTY

San Diego County Eligible Zip Codes:

Tribes Not Exempt from U.S. Labor LawsBy ERICA WERNER, Associated Press Writer

Tribes Not Exempt from U.S. Labor Laws

By ERICA WERNER, Associated Press Writer