Tech Task Force Helps Quinault Nation Avoid Constitutional Crisis
What does it really mean when traditions die?
Missing the opportunity to pass customs from generation to generation, is the plight of first Americans.
A death of culture and tradition is an issue Native Americans have been confronting in the US after existing for a millennia on this continent.
For natives, a loss of tradition is a loss of identity and of origin stories. It’s a threat to who they are and who the next generation will become. It would be the end of everything they’ve fought to preserve.
If tradition is lost within the indigenous community it can’t be recovered, it disappears with the last generation of elders.
But physically, it’s the loss of being federally recognized as a tribal nation by the United States government, which currently recognizes 567 tribes.
The Information Technology Disaster Resource Center has assisted dozens of tribal nations over the past year; and while the dust continues to settle on the pandemic, the organization remains dedicated to supporting the indigenous people.
Personally, this writer has traveled to the Hoh tribe in Washington state, the Yankton Sioux in South Dakota, and the indigenous Pueblo communities in New Mexico in the past year.
I have sat in front of elders and heard the same message passed from them to me, “Our traditions are dying.”
The native elders were not speaking in nostalgic terms, it’s an imminent reality their sovereign nations face.
So, what does it really mean when traditions cease to exist?
Jennifer Province, of the Quinault tribe in Washington state, knows the answer.
In March of 2020 Province feared the loss of her tribe’s federal recognition after the Quinault nation, for the first time in its history, could not hold General Council elections because of the pandemic.
General Council is a political event that is practiced by all first nation tribes; the Quinault nation has been holding theirs since signing their first treaty in 1856. In order to remain a sovereign nation and be recognized by the federal government, first nations require a written constitution if intending to self govern.
In the Quinault constitution, it is stated that General Council will be held in person on Quinault land on the last weekend of every March. Positions within the Quinault nation open every three years, but last year emergency re-elections and appointments were put in place to avoid a constitutional crisis due to Covid-19 lockdown orders.
If the Quinault nation failed to meet for General Council this year, the agreement would be violated between the nation and the United States government resulting in the loss of the tribe’s sovereignty and rights.
“A loss of sovereignty would affect a little bit of everything” explained Province.
Continued sovereignty allows the tribal leadership to honor and continue with traditional ways of living. The tribe would lose fishing rights, hunting rights, and it would shut down the Quinault nation government, who would no longer have the authority to dictate how the nation chooses to live.
This crisis would affect around 1,200 natives’ way of living as members on Quinault land, resulting in a loss of cultural identity.
“We don’t have any infrastructure out there, no fiber, nothing” Province said pointing to 45 acres of dense forest rolling next to pacific cliffs where the General Council was slated to assemble.
“I knew we needed help, and I heard about ITDRC through the National Guard” Province said.
Richard Hall, State ESF2 lead for the state of Washington connected the Quinault tribe with ITDRC.
“ITDRC is my go to for a major response, and what Quinault was asking for would’ve been impossible for any state agency — but I know that ITDRC is always ready and able to help when no one else is” Hall explained.
One Nation Connected
For weeks, Chris Taylor, Region 10 director, and lead for ITDRC’s Pacific Northwest team met with members of the Quinault planning committee, state officials, and ITDRC Tech Task Force partners to engineer a temporary communications infrastructure to support the event.
“This was my first tribal connection; we found out how big this connection was for the nation after we arrived” Taylor said, “Once we understood that, everyone wanted to help the tribe as much as we could, the team was ready to push themselves to make this happen.”
With no power, internet connectivity, or cell service for miles, the team was challenged with constructing a stadium quality network in the middle of a dense forest.
Less than 24 hours before the event was scheduled to go live, a convoy of communications vehicles and trailers descended on the remote site to begin the marathon network buildout. Taylor knew it wouldn’t be easy, but was determined to pull it off, on time.
“Oh, we are lighting them up!” With spools of orange fiber optic cable in hand, Taylor pointed to the forest. “That is the shortest route to ensure this actually works; folks we are going to be out here all night” he said to the team.
On the other side of the forest was the spillover parking lot, where voters could watch the assembly via live stream where ballot runners could collect votes from those who were uncomfortable gathering inside the main tent.
The team of six worked well past dark, trekking over moss perma growth, and weaving the cable in and out of branches until they reached a riverbank.
“Turn back?” one tech asked.
Taylor walked along the bank looking for better points to run the cable but after scouting options, over the river was the only clear path.
Taylor climbed down one side, while the other techs instructed him on where to place his footing, guiding him to what looked sturdy enough to grab hold of.
“It’s a good thing I’m not getting paid for this” Taylor joked while taking a break towards the middle of the climb.
“Is now a bad time to talk about snakes?” another tech joked in response.
The cable path was risky, it was unconventional, and it displayed the lengths ITDRC volunteers will go to fulfill their mission.
In order for all 1,200 members to safely participate in the proceedings, the team deployed a video teleconferencing server at the site, enabling the meetings to be live streamed over the local network, as well as a local FM radio channel. Participants needed the ability to join the conference via cell phone browsers, tablets, and laptop computers from anywhere on the 45 acre site.
In the end, the tech task force put in about a full week’s worth of work in four days, all worth it if you ask them.
Techs Got What It Takes
The General Election tent was the hub for the sacred event, with distanced seating for hundreds. There were additional tents for Quinault elders who weren’t comfortable congregating with others, and acres of parking for members to remain in their vehicles.
A SatCOLT, short for satellite cell on light truck, and SPOT, or satellite picocell on trailer were provided by T-Mobile and Verizon respectively to provide connectivity for emergency services and to support ITDRC’s infrastructure.
“This General Election is something we are proud of but hope that we never have to do again, we will take the win” said Province “We would not have been able to pull it off without ITDRC.”
The network consisted of a security gateway, fiber connected switches, and 12 outdoor access points connected via PoE. The videoconferencing environment was configured on the AWS platform, and replicated to a pair of Snowball Edge devices for redundancy. The entire system was engineered to run in an offline configuration.
Large screen televisions and projectors were distributed throughout the site for distributed viewing, and a live stream was made available for remote viewing via the Internet.
“The scope of what Quinault was asking for would’ve been impossible without ITDRC. No state agency has a fraction of what it took to pull that off” said Hall, “The capabilities that they have are unparalleled and without them this connection would not have happened. After speaking with the Quinault tribe, they say it’s the best General Council they’ve ever held.”
