A jurisdictional vacuum that often leaves violence against American Indian women unredressed

Bruce Duthu, a professor of Native American studies at Dartmouth, highlights in an Op-ed piece in today's NYT the injustice suffered by Indian women who are victims of crime at the hands of non-Indians. Here's an excerpt from "Broken Justice in Indian Country":

ONE in three American Indian women will be raped in their lifetimes, statistics gathered by the United States Department of Justice show. But the odds of the crimes against them ever being prosecuted are low, largely because of the complex jurisdictional rules that operate on Indian lands. Approximately 275 Indian tribes have their own court systems, but federal law forbids them to prosecute non-Indians. Cases involving non-Indian offenders must be referred to federal or state prosecutors, who often lack the time and resources to pursue them.

Prof. Duthu calls this jurisdictional situation "unfair" to the victims of all crimes. He expresses particular concern about sexual violence because such crimes against American Indian women are "overwhelmingly [80%] interracial," whereas such violence against white and African-American women is mostly intra-racial. Duthu provides other statistics that differentiate between sexual violence against American Indian women and other U.S. women. For example, American Indian women living on tribal lands are more than twice as likely to be raped or sexually assaulted as other U.S. women. Further, weapons are used in rapes against American Indians at three times the rate of other reported rapes.

Prof. Duthu notes the dearth of federal prosecutions of crimes in Indian country. In 2006 prosecutors filed, on average, only about one criminal charge for each of the 560 federally recognized tribes, and he suggests that these prosecutions rarely lead to conviction of non-Indian offenders. Duthu thus argues that Congress should intervene and clearly give Indian tribes the authority to investigate and prosecute all crimes in Indian territory, regardless of the involvement of tribal or non-tribal members.

I am not an Indian law scholar, and I've certainly not given as much thought to this jurisdictional problem as Prof. Duthu has. I have, however, briefly considered this jurisdictional vacuum in relation to domestic violence against American Indian women. (The article, "Place Matters: Domestic Violence and Rural Difference" is forthcoming in the Wisconsin Journal of Law, Gender & Society 2008). What I have found is that many tribes do not take domestic violence very seriously. Not taking this crime seriously, of course, has been a widespread problem across all U.S. jurisdictions with regard to intimate partner violence and other crimes against women, although it is one with respect to which we have seen improvement in recent decades. (See Elizabeth Schneider, Battered Women and Feminist Law Making (Yale U. Press 2000)). It is possible that, given the power to prosecute non-Indians for violent crimes against women (along with other crimes committed by non-Indians in Indian Country), tribal police and courts would do a better job than they currently do of prosecuting Indian perpetrators of such gendered crimes. (Duthu notes that Congress recently allocated $750 million for enhancing public safety in Indian country, so this could certainly help). I don't think, however, that we can assume that giving jurisdiction over these crimes to tribal justice systems will ensure greater dedication of tribal resources and attention to the prosecution of crimes against American Indian women. Gendered violence could well continue to slip through the cracks -- albeit the cracks in tribal justice systems rather than those of the U.S. Attorneys and Courts.

It's county fair time

And Dan Barry's "This Land" column takes up a slice of that all- American, rural- flavored topic this week. Here's a quote from his story with dateline Sands Township (population 2,127), Marquette County, in Michigan's Upper Penninsula. Barry calls it a place of "farms and blueberries and iron ore mines":

County fairs are about more than whirligig amusement rides designed to make you pay for the cheesecake on a stick you’ve just consumed. They are about tradition, and community, and pride, and something rarely acknowledged: competition. Whether it’s swimming the fastest 100-meter butterfly or growing the handsomest rutabagas, many of us strive to be the best in our heat, however lukewarm.

I'm sure this story evokes a walk down memory lane for many of us who grew up in rural places, where the county fair was anticipated all year . . . .

Rural Diversions

Several stories in the NYTimes in the past few days feature what I will call "rural diversions," a term I do not use in a pejorative sense.

Here's one on tourism in West Virginia, to which the photo of a railcar relates. (Photo by Brendan Hoffman for NYT).

Here's another from the Travel section suggesting nostalgia for our frontier past as a tourist attraction. (Photo by T.C. Worley for the NYT).

And here's one from the Business section on niche farming, with the caveat: "don't quit your day job."

The latest installment of "Going Down the Road," this one from New England

"Vermont, a State of Mind" is the subheading for the latest in the NYT series that recalls the Great Depression Era travel guides. Apparently, the "state of mind" comment was one made in the 1930s by writers who visited Vermont and documented life and lifestyles there. It is picked up in today's story, which is headlined, "Eccentricity Fuels a Revival of Vermont's River Towns." Eccentricity is indeed a theme of the story, which indicates various ways in which the southeastern sliver of the state, along the Connecticut River, both reflects -- but also defies -- rural stereotypes. Here's an excerpt from Pam Belluck's story, which begins with the perspective of the 1930s writers:

“Vermont apologists have defended this attitude as the very essence of liberty . . . Outside observers have considered it as a consistent manifestation of unenlightened perversity.”

Revisiting some of the river towns nowadays finds them trying to rebound from factory closings, farm consolidations and fading Main Streets by again embracing idiosyncratic ideas, and drawing on the bedrock that once made these towns vibrant: the river, the railroad and a hardy independent streak.

Farther into the story is a discussion of how Vermont defies rural stereotypes, and how that defiance is moving the southeastern part of the state forward in this age of rural restructuring:

Easy to reach from urban centers like New York but unspoiled enough to feel remote, these towns beckoned unconventional types. Unlike other parts of New England, where “people from away” never really become equals, newcomers here are woven into the fabric — like the ’60s back-to-the-landers who set up communes, learned farming from books and weathered winters so harsh no mail was delivered.

* * *

These days, a back-to-the-river movement hopes to reinvigorate the region with boating, fishing and other activities, said David L. Deen, a Democratic state representative who was out rowing recently. For decades, the river was “a sewer, and the smoke from the mills filled it up,” said Artie Aiken, 95, of Westminster, who worked the railroad, drove “four horses on a tater digger” and risked his life saving a farmer’s cows in a 1936 flood.

Among the river revitalization plans is an eco-resort called Liberty Mills. It is expected to include a kayak race course, a skate park, and a pool, along with compost toilets and geothermal power. The town manager of Rockingham, which includes Bellows Falls, is quoted as saying, "When I first heard about it, I was flabbergasted that anyone could think they could pull that off [but] the community here always says 'just go for it.'"

Don't miss the story's interactive feature here.

As I write this on Friday night, August 8, about 24 hours after the story first appeared on the paper's website, it ranks 5th among the most emailed stories.

Urban nostalgia for the rural isn't just an American phenomenon; NPR reports from Sichuan Province in China

NPR's "All Things Considered" program today featured a story about the attraction of urban Chinese for tranquil "rural retreats." (Photos Andrea Hsu for NPR). This isn't the first time NPR has covered this topic in recent months.

But today's piece was, in part, a postscript to the Sichuan earthquake in May. After that disaster, tourism dried up in ancient Shangli, 80 miles southwest of Chengdu, the provincial capital. As it turned out, Shangli was not affected by the quake, and now tourists are back in greater numbers than ever, in part because other rural Chinese retreats were devastated by the quakes.

Here's an excerpt:

To cross the Yellow Thatch Creek that runs through town, tourists hop on stones. They take pictures of peasants such as Li Shi Long, who readied a small patch of land for rice planting. [top photo]

"We're happy to see [the tourists]," Li said. "The more visitors we have, the richer we'll get. The more people, the better."

The contrast between the old world and the new is jarring.

Visitors in miniskirts and heels jabber on cell phones, crossing paths with wizened farmers doubled over from the weight of the vegetables they carry in baskets on their backs.

Xie Zhi Hui from Chengdu brought her 4-year-old daughter to Shangli.

"The air is clear and fresh," she said. "And the people are rustic. It's great to bring my daughter here to see this way of life."

So, it seems that the Chinese, like Americans, are drawn to their rural past, which in China sometimes connotes not just the old, but indeed the ancient.

My Rural Travelogue (Part V): The Charm of the Farm

We wrapped up our summer vacation with a few days at Mar Vista cottages in southern Mendocino County. It may have been faux rural (by my admittedly strict standards for that which is authentic rural), but it was nevertheless a delight!

The property sits above Highway 1 and offers lovely views of the so-called Mendonoma shoreline, as well as access to a secluded beach across the road. Nearby, just north of Point Arena, are the recently dedicated Stornetta Public Lands where one can stroll along high bluffs on the coast, enjoying sea caves, blow holes on an island across the way, and crashing surf. We also saw a large colony of seals basking between the Stornetta lands and the Point Arena Lighthouse (closed this year for renovation). In short, there’s a lot to do in the area, especially for those who enjoy the outdoors and a cooling sea breeze. (Even though I can see no link to rurality in this most cosmopolitan outpost, I can't help mention the marvels of Franny's Cup and Saucer, a great little bakery and patisserie in Point Arena; if you go, don't miss it).

But the distinctive attractions of Mar Vista are right on its property. Mar Vista is one of those places that recalls simpler times and seeks to bring its guests along for a sometimes nostalgic journey. It features 12 cottages, originally built in the 1930s and restored without too much updating. They have gas cooking stoves, refrigerators, and microwaves. There are no telephones (not even cell phone service!) and no televisions. Our cottage featured an added attraction: a nest of fledgling swallows over the little front porch. We enjoyed watching the mother swallow coming and going with food for the little ones.

People come to Mar Vista for the simple delights like these, just one aspect of the understated hospitality of Renata and Tom Dorn and the special environment they have created. While the cottages apparently attract a lot of couples on romantic week-ends away, I think Mar Vista is really a place for kids – kids of all ages, that is.

The Dorns keep about 50 hens in a pen with multiple roosting areas designed by Tom. Every afternoon around 5:30, visitors are invited to help gather the eggs. On our two days in residence, the average take was about 30 eggs, varyingly off white, different shades of brown, and a lovely pale blue green. Tom informed us that the latter variety were the products of the Australorpes, a Chilean breed. There are also silver-laced Wyandottes and Aracuña Golden Girls. A couple of pygmy goats (Pygmalion and Higgins) and a couple of rabbits (Jack and Jill) round out the farm-yard offerings. The owners have dogs, too, and a couple of feral cats take care of the mice. The pièce de résistance, though, is the organic garden, where guests are invited to pick their own produce. Small green and red signs distinguish for the novice what may be picked now from that which isn’t quite ready.

Our preschooler, whose usual “favorite thing” to do on vacation is ride a subway, loved our cottage and the large lawn area where he could romp and make noise. He also made a few new friends at Mar Vista. After two days there, his new “favorite thing” to do on vacation was gather eggs and wash the carrots he picked. It reminded me of my own childhood experiences doing the same things at my grandparents’ farm – except on their farm, the chickens could be quite intimidating, and a great deal more work was involved to reap such a bountiful harvest from the garden!

As the person who urged me to visit said, “Mar Vista is what city people think rural is.” Now that I’ve been there, I agree. It’s not really rural, but it’s not a bad substitute. It is a place that invites visitors – mostly city slickers from the San Francisco Bay area-- to enjoy some of life’s simple agrarian pleasures, complemented by the other delights of Mendocino County.

More on the impact of gas prices on the exurbs -- and by implication on rural development

This piece is from today's Washington Post, with the headline: "Gas Prices Apply Brakes to Suburban Migration." (The graphic depicts the Washington, DC areas suburbs and exurbs; click on graphic to enlarge).

Here's a nice quote from deep in the story. I include it because of the mention of soybean fields.

"We need to change the patterns of development," said Gerald E. Connolly (D), chairman of the Fairfax County Board of Supervisors. "We have to move to a new transit-oriented development paradigm and concentrate development and avoid the sprawl that we've allowed in the past and undo some of the environmental damage."

He pointed to nearby Arlington County and its Rosslyn-Ballston corridor, alive with pedestrians and dense housing development.

"We actually know it works," Connolly said.

That is also the model that Tom Darden, chief executive of Cherokee Investment Partners, is betting on. His Raleigh-based firm snaps up urban land, often used industrial sites, near transit stations and transforms it into housing.

He said the days of building giant houses on former soybean fields on the outer fringes of metropolitan areas are over.

"What were pluses of that lifestyle are now liabilities: a big SUV, a big home to heat, the energy needed to mow the lawn," he said.

He said his urban properties in Charlotte, Raleigh, N.C., Montreal and Denver are doing well, while exurbs like those in California's Central Valley are "turning into ghost town."

"And we're only at the shallow end of the pool," Darden said.

As you can see, the story mostly ignores the impact of development and land use policies on rural places, focusing instead on the urban.

Recent news about energy policies with direct implications for rural America

Dan Barry writes in his "This Land" series in today's New York Times about wind turbines in rural Nebraska. Characteristic of Barry's writing, the story features lots of local detail and color, and it is accompanied by a wonderful photo by Angel Franco. Another photo is of a couple of the half dozen "renewable energy technicians" (a/k/a local Nebraskans with training) who maintain the 230-feet-high turbines. Thirty-six of them near Ainsworth, population 1,862, have provided sufficient power for 19,000 homes over the past few years. They are also providing at least a handful of good jobs, and it sounds like more are on the way, with a number of Nebraska communities actively vying to host the wind farms.

Other stories in the past few days have suggested rather less positive consequences of energy exploration for the rural West. The Saturday headline was "Energy Boom in West Threatens Indian Artifacts." On Sunday, it was "A Push to Wrest More Oil from the Land, but New Wells are for Natural Gas." These stories discuss the impact of the exploration for both archeological artifacts and the environment. In so doing, they make the wind turbines look more appealing than ever, for a range of reasons.

Will closing the digital divide solve rural America's problems -- at least some of them?

A couple of panels at the Rural Sociological Society's Annual Meeting last week discussed different aspects of the internet and communication technologies, including their potential to enhance rural livelihoods. This is an issue to which I've given some passing thought, often when prompted by a news item about some use of technology to provide services -- from distance learning to mental health support -- in rural communities. (In Japan, broadband is even used to facilitate prenatal care in rural areas. According to a story last year in the NYT, "pregnant women are examined remotely by obstetricians using real-time data transmitted to the doctors’ cellphones. When the doctors judge that a patient is about to go into labor, the woman heads to the nearest city with a maternity ward.") The recent Carsey Institute report, Place Matters, in its recommendations for rural communities in the U.S., notes the need for "advanced communications technology" in all rural places.

The prospect of broadband for all of the United States, including rural areas, was discussed Friday afternoon on NPR in a segment comparing Obama and McCain regarding their "technology outlook." One expert who was interviewed for the program indicated that the market was unlikely to resolve this issue in a way that serves rural communities because the economies of scale simply are not present. This economy-of-scale issue is, of course, a familiar one for those who study rural places' needs for services of all types.

So, the question becomes: what government incentives are appropriate to ensure that rural communities get this critical piece of infrastructure to make them and their workforces competitive in a global economy, while also opening up the possibility that many types of services can be provided to rural residents via broadband? According to the NPR report, Obama is more likely to support the sort of government subsidies that could serve rural Americans in this critical way.

Intolerance, hate, and the LGBT community in rural America

The New York Times reports today on the murder of a transgender woman, Angie Zapata, in Greeley, Colorado. (Photo of Zapata courtesy of Colorado Anti-Violence Program). Zapata was murdered by a man she had begun dating when the man, Allen Andrade, found that she had male genitalia. According to an affidavit filed by police, Andrade told investigators that he thought he had “killed it.” The Weld County prosecutor has indicated his intent to prosecute the murder as a hate crime, which would add 18 months to Andrade's sentence if he is convicted.

Journalist Dan Frosch characterizes Greeley as a "rural, conservative town about 60 miles north of Denver." In fact, with an estimated 2006 population of 93,957, Greeley meets neither the Census Bureau's definition of "rural" (population 2,500 or less or open country) nor that of the OMB's companion term, "non-metropolitan" (population under 50,000). Nevertheless, because close-mindedness and intolerance tend to be associated with rural communities, I suppose it makes for a more sensational story to label Greeley "rural." Maybe Frosch is trying to convey something cultural with his mention of "rural," though the descriptor "conservative" might have sufficed were that case. Or maybe Frosch is articulating a dichotomy that has only major metropolitan areas on one side, with everything else being "rural."

In any event, the report brings to mind other hate crimes against members of the LGBT community in places popularly thought of as rural, if not technically so: Matthew Shepard near Laramie, Wyoming (population 27,204) and Brandon Teena in Falls City, Nebraska (population 4,671). "Brokeback Mountain" also traded on stereotypes of rural folk as homophobic.

So, is there any truth in these stereotypes? Well, at least two papers presented at the annual meeting of the Rural Sociological Society are exploring that question. Julie C. Keller, a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin, is studying queer farmers, and Alexis Annes, a graduate student at South Dakota State University, has done a comparative study of gay men in the rural Southwest of France and in the rural U.S. plains. I'm delighted to know that scholars are turning to the topic of LGBT in the country, which has been neglected both in terms of empirical work and theorizing.

A few days with a group of folks highly committed to enhancing rural livelihoods

I attended the annual meeting of the Rural Sociological Society this week in Manchester, NH. They kept me busy, which is one reason for the low activity on the blog in recent days. The meeting, my first, was a terrific, stimulating experience. What a great group of diverse scholars (sociologists of course, but also demographers, economists, cultural studies scholars, educators) who seem so genuinely committed not only to their careers as scholars and to the accumulation of knowledge, but also to informing policy making that will improve the lot of rural people and places. Indeed, "public sociology" was the theme of the conference.

These scholars' commitment to rural livelihoods was palpable, and it was terrific to talk about my own work to folks with such a high baseline of knowledge about rurality. In that regard, among others, it was very different from talking to other legal scholars. I learned so much that will inform my own work and, I hope, a few blog posts over the coming weeks.