Pick Up Your Pen Contest Northern Arizona Book Festival - I Shot a Photo by Bazhnibah

  

I shot a photo  

of women laced with yards of pent-up anger—each victim encircled with red skirts, wrapped with  ribbon, displaying bands of hope, healing with ceremony, as if to disband their feelings of despair.  Beautiful plumes of reds, oranges, and blues swayed with wavering movements on their heads. Tribes  gathered in groups honored brothers and sisters; each came from the East, West, and in between.  Standing strong with prayer on the steps of the Interior Department property, women in red huddled with  humbled buckskin medicine bags left from the Trail of Tears and Wounded Knee massacres. The songs  they sang echoed cries of the victims, pleas for help, and whimpers of fading life.

WE WILL NOT BE SILENCED. Poster. The US Department of the Interior, C-Street and 19th  Street, Washington, DC. Indigenous Peoples March. Photograph by Bazhnibah.  

  

I shot a photo  

of a woman carrying a sign, wearing a red dress, with a red hand painted over her mouth—a  symbol of silence, a symbol of being stripped from her ancestors’ womb, a symbol of murder with no  protection. No one knows why they are stolen. No one knows if they are murdered. Many don’t come  back. Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls. Puyallup women wore straw hats, carried a  flag with a yellow circle, a crinkled golden eagle with magical powers stands inside—a symbol of  protection for the people and the land. The eagle, a protector full of wisdom will guide them to find justice  and peace.  

REMATRIATE: RESIST AND RISE. INDIGENOUS WOMXNS COLLECTIVE. Poster.
Why Can’t Our Women Be Remembered in Life. Media. Data. Poster. Indigenous Peoples March. Photograph by Bazhnibah.

 

I shot a photo 

of Ashley Callingbull, Mrs. Universe 2015, Enoch Cree Nation. An activist for the MMIWG  movement, she wore a black tee with Phenomenally Indigenous on her chest. “Today is an important day,”  she said, “I march for our sisters who have been stolen from us and continue to be taken.” She stood,  asserted, defiantly with her fist in the air on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial as Abe watched over her  shoulders. What was he thinking? Perhaps, waning the people’s trust? A row of Indigenous women, in red  skirts, lined up, and flipped the bird to Abe—a third time.  

DEFEND THE SACRED, REMEMBER THE DAKOTA 38. Poster. The steps of the Lincoln  Memorial, Washington DC. Indigenous Peoples March. Photograph by Bazhnibah.  

I shot a photo 

of a hoop dancer appearing on stage. She danced with hoops. Each hoop wrapped and striped  with red and yellow. She danced and swooped up a hoop as if to loop the National Monument in the  background. The tall white obelisk tapered into the sky, towering the people, while V-shaped waters  came to calm the people of their cries. People cheered the hoop dancer as she created and held a globe in her hands—a symbol for people to unite, to become one, and find justice and peace. Our indigenous  women need to return home.  

NO MORE STOLEN SISTERS. Poster. Lincoln Memorial and National Monuments, Washington, DC. Indigenous Peoples March. Photograph by Bazhnibah.