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VICE News

Inside the Final Days of the Standing Rock Protest

By early February, just two weeks after Trump signed a presidential memorandum to expedite construction of the pipeline, the ten thousand people who had been there had been weeded down to a few hundred.

Nancy Shomin first came to Standing Rock back in September after a stint in recovery for alcoholism. She was born in Flint, Michigan and had been the only native girl in her elementary school. Her father couldn't stop Nancy's classmates from bullying her, but he tried to balance his daughter's loneliness with a steady exposure to tribal customs and rituals. Her life had been spent in and out of institutions—prison, rehab, therapy. In rehab, Nancy tried to process what had happened to her during a violent childhood, but she found that she was constantly doubting the veracity of her memories. She decided to head to Standing Rock because a friend had put out a call on Facebook. When Nancy first saw line of tipis by the Missouri River, she felt the neurosis of recovery melt away. Nancy quickly committed herself to life as a water protector. She went on marches to the pipeline construction site, got arrested, and spent time in jail. Whenever she would leave camp to see her family back in Michigan, she would feel a creeping unease—what was she missing back in camp? Did the resistance still need her? She kept coming back to North Dakota and started picking up the camp's dual languages of activism and spirituality. She was no longer at Standing Rock to block the construction of the pipeline and protect the waters of the Missouri River from contamination but also to decolonize herself in a sacred space of prayer. At the front lines, where water protectors faced off with Morton County sheriff's deputies and the National Guard, Nancy played the role of a "watcher"—she made sure the situation was in some semblance of control. Read more on VICE News

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