montana week 3

my time in montana is expiring as quickly as i am falling in love with this little county. a precious, delicate place where even the preamble of the constitution makes me emotional with its majesty:

“We the people of Montana grateful to God for the quiet beauty of our state, the grandeur of our mountains, the vastness of our rolling plains, and desiring to improve the quality of life, equality of opportunity and to secure the blessings of liberty for this and future generations do ordain and establish this constitution.”

…where every dent of the mountain is treasured though they are soft-spoken. and every bob of the grassy plains ([1]) is celebrated though they are backstage dancers. 

yet, outside of this perfect little bubble i think it is, the world is raging with genocide and ecocide and all kinds of horrific human-made disasters. that this country is home to a multitude of environmental injustices, and in some cases remediation and reparation steps still underway. that after unpeeling the beauty here there still lies many Indigenous rights abuses and grievances still a work-in-progress.

lately i've been reading as well to better understand the price of environmental justice on this ground i stand on. reading the newspapers, i learnt that last sunday was also the day for the Missing Murdered Indigenous People here in Montana. i was shocked at the rates of death faced by Indigenous peoples here: Native American women and girls in Montana face a murder rate that is ten times higher than the national average. And according to the National Institute of Justice, more than 80 percent of Native American women have experienced violence, with almost half having experienced it within the past year (All these statistics are from a tribal newspaper, Char-Koosta News, 9 May 2024).

i’m also about done with reading the book i borrowed from the Missoula Public Library, The Price of Justice: A true story of greed and corruption by Laurence Leamer. it tells the fourteen-year struggle of two lawyers, Dave Fawcett and Bruce Stanley, to bring the coal baron Don Blankenship to justice. the long drawn-out legal affair makes me kind of scared for the road that lies ahead of me… the legal landscape is a lot more complex than i thought it was. it’s becoming clearer to me that a good lawyer relies not just on one’s own strength. there are so many things beyond one’s control:

you could get things delayed and escalate those costs. the importance of having laws protecting civic rights (e.g. the Freedom of Information Act was used) to help you attain crucial evidence. how the smallest side events that appear completely unrelated to the case may actually have the power to change the rules of the game. how someone rich and powerful may be so bent on protecting themselves that they go all out to destroy not only you but also the vulnerable: i feel especially pained and angry for the guy who just came out of prison and who was determined to start anew in life - suddenly made a public enemy, fell once again into drug addiction to cope, and then back to prison life... you need to be aware that your opponents are not only targeting you but also working hard to bring down your allies, so that when you have none it becomes easier for them to buy them all. you should accept from the start that plan A is most definitely not going to work and you should have a backup plan B, C, D, E. you have to think fast and respond to all kinds of ways in which the defense might try to poke holes in your argument. stop talking in that incessantly horribly verbose style that you're so used to. you have to be calm because not controlling your temper could bring about your demise. 

None of [the personal injury lawyers] would have considered taking the case. It was too big, too difficult, too expensive, and too anti-coal. Beyond that, nobody had the courage, cash and legal resources to challenge Massey.

Leamer’s book also reveals to me that justice will one day reveal itself. so keep acting consistently and never let your moral compass bend south. today dirty acts may be considered socially acceptable and periodically take place under the table, ‘as a way of doing business’, but i tell you with certainty that they will one day, whether in my lifetime or not, be revealed. 

dear missoula, i don’t want to say goodbye. please now tell the mountains to be quiet, because their constant whispering is making me choke. will you kindly tell the grassy plains to stop dancing because their cheery, breezy song is mocking my pain.

why did i ever have to meet you with the knowledge that this will not last forever? i don’t think i’ll see anything or anyone like you again, for a very, very long time. i can only cling on to the moment we confessed to each other. the last time we wrapped ourselves around each other: me lost in the soil, breathing sunflowers, and you lost in the cold, fresh air. all that you’ve taught me i will not forget… you will drive my activism in years to come. under the aurora lights, i promise. i will make you last forever.

(we saw aurora lights at midnight in montana!!! i also saw a shooting star it was like a fireball doing a vertical drop!!!)

[1] in the eyes of the land-scarce country where i come from, the mere idea of a plain; the fact that a plain is even allowed to exist, is quite, if not totally, absurd.