Category: Stories

  • Native healer uses traditional ways to heal returning veterans

    Native healer uses traditional ways to heal returning veterans

    Lacee Harris (center) at the 9th Annual Native Symposium at Weber State University on November 12, 2014. (Photo/Adrienne Andrews)
    Lacee Harris (center) at the 9th Annual Native Symposium at Weber State University on November 12, 2014. (Photo/Adrienne Andrews)

    In the Ute Indian Reservation, located in Northeastern Utah, approximately 150 miles east of Salt Lake City, it’s common to hear people say, “I’m going to go see Lacee.”

    Lacee Harris is a 70-year-old Native healer. He has been healing all kinds of emotional and spiritual ailments, in and outside his community, for the past four decades. His duties include healing ceremonies for returning veterans, house cleanings, prayers, marriages, and naming babies.

    “Some people call me a medicine man, but I don’t label myself a ‘medicine man’ or ‘shaman’ – that’s not our way,” says Harris, explaining it is not their custom to draw attention to themselves. “I grew up with my great grandmother. She taught me the healing traditions.”

    Harris went to school and became a licensed clinical social worker – a position he held at the Indian Walk-In Center for 35 years. He says one day, when he was in his early 30s, his uncles had approached him.

    “They said, ‘Boy, we want you to take on some responsibilities.’ So that’s how I became what I became,” says Harris.

    He says there’s not that many healers left in his native Salt Lake City area.

    “There’s maybe 350,000 people in Salt Lake, and I’m one of the few natives that do the ceremonies,” says Harris. “I volunteer at the local hospitals to give them blessings. I work with natives in Nevada, New Mexico at cancer centers…and I’ve done work with the Utah State Department of Human Services, adult corrections and youth corrections.”

    He was asked a few months ago to help returning veterans dealing with their post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) in collaboration with the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs (VA).

    “I think it’s just a pilot here in Salt Lake for now,” says Harris. “If it starts succeeding, they will take it to Virginia to see how it works there.”

    He explains the Native healing program had originally encountered resistance from the VA and Utah community, because many could not understand its spiritual aspect of healing.

    “It’s a 24-7, 365-day type of job,” says Harris. “We get up in the morning, and we pray all day long, and we pray when we go to bed at night. They are scared of their own insecurities in their spirituality. We have no insecurity about who our Creator is.’

    He goes on to explain that the Creator made us in four parts: physical, mental, emotional and spiritual.

    “Many people are developed physically – they exercise, and they go to school for their mental ability. Emotional and spiritual…ahh, not so much,” says Harris. “People are driving around on two wheels instead of four. Four wheels give you more balance than two.”

    The two-time cancer survivor says he carries a medicine bag of sacred dirt, sweet grass, crystals, a whole bunch of different medicines, traditionally given to Native warriors, with him at all times.

    “It’s what helped me,” he says. “It’s that old spirituality that kept us a strong people. The Europeans came and brought all their diseases and destroyed our natural foods and animals that we ate, but we still keep our traditions…We are strong people, and we have to hang on to our ways.”

    He says also being a licensed mental health therapist, he is fortunate to be able to use both scientific and traditional philosophies in his healing, because Western medicines don’t heal emotional or spiritual wounds. When he sees veterans, for example, he uses his cleansing ceremonies involving sweats, as well as talking circles – traditions that Natives used with their returning warriors for thousands of years.

    “If we have problems, we would go out and sit on a hill and meditate,” continues Harris about his ancient traditions. “We would take out our tobacco that was made for us by the Creator…We ask for the endurance, and all the things we need to overcome adversities. Seeing your buddy shot or blown up – you have to find that sense of balance, and your place in the world with all the badness going on around you.”

    He goes on to say that’s why so many veterans get into drugs.

    “They are trying to drown and hide from all of that trauma and negativity that has been surrounding them. It’s not an easy thing. Once they can find a way to deal with those negativities, it’s much easier to deal with,” says Harris. “It might take several times going to a sweat, talking with elders, hearing the old stories…You gotta get out of your head. That’s where all the worries live. Go into your heart, that’s your center. If you operate from your center, you can talk to your Creator.”

    Harris plans on continuing to help others and spread the wisdom of his people as long as he can. Last week, he spoke at the 9th Annual Native Symposium at Weber State University.

    “I think the best advice I could give to any young person is know and understand and live to the fullest your life’s philosophy,” says the healer. “A lot of people I know are Christians. Hold on to that, that’s the one thing that will get you through.”

  • A biochemist on a mission to fight climate change, one coal plant at a time

    A biochemist on a mission to fight climate change, one coal plant at a time

    Leslie Glustrom speaking in front of the local Boulder coal plant about the need to move beyond coal in 2007. (Courtesy Leslie Glustrom)
    Leslie Glustrom speaking in front of the local Boulder coal plant about the need to move beyond coal in 2007. (Courtesy Leslie Glustrom)

    Leslie Glustrom recently turned 60, but she’s no where near finished working on her life’s mission to fight climate change.

    Throughout her career, Glustrom has been a science writer, teacher, and worked on public lands issues in Arizona in the 1990’s. Ten years ago, she left her job as a biochemistry researcher at Colorado University to devote herself full-time to educating her Boulder community about the dangers of coal-fired power plants – which accounts for approximately 40 percent of U.S. greenhouse gas emissions.

    This Saturday, she will be speaking at the Colorado Climate Summit to help inspire people across the country to make a difference in their environment.

    “We need as citizens to understand our end of the meter,” says Glustrom. “We are going to talk about how people can work with their local governments to keep the pressure on the utilities to move beyond fossil fuels and move towards the solar era.”

    The long-time scientist explains her innate desire to preserve the environment developed around age 6 – after seeing a Monarch butterfly for the first time. She says as an older adult, she not only appreciates nature, she now worries about the negative impact humans are having on it. For example, she mentions the farmers in Bolivia who are forced to migrate from their barren land as climate change disrupts weather patterns there.

    “I will probably never know those farmers, or the victims of the typhoon in the Philippines…I might never see a polar bear in real life, but when I see those polar bears with no ice to be seen, and its 200 miles to the next ice flow, I’m going to feel it,” says Glustrom. “I have a moral obligation to do everything I can – even if I don’t have grandchildren.”

    When Colorado’s largest utility company decided to build a coal-fired power plant, Comanche 3 in Pueblo, CO, in 2005, her same sense of moral urgency is what led her, and two others, to form the nonprofit Clean Energy Action.

    The Clean Energy Action team in 2013. (Courtesy Leslie Glustrom)
    The Clean Energy Action team in 2013. (Courtesy Leslie Glustrom)

    “If you care about humans and species, and if you recognize that connection between suffering and our energy choices, then what you want to do is stop pumping the atmosphere with carbon dioxide and methane,” says Glustrom. “That’s a big task but somebody’s got to start.”

    She says around the same time, President Bush had sent a signal to the utility industry that it was okay to build coal plants, and there were more than 150 coal plants commissioned – each of which would last at least 60 years.

    “People like me said, ‘Excuse me!,” says Glustrom. “Our vision is we want clean energy, and we’re willing to act to bring about the clean energy future.”

    She says of all of those 150 proposed coal plants, 150 were stopped – thanks to the tireless work of Clean Energy Action and other environmental groups like The Sierra Club.

    “We won many, many battles. It’s an outstanding accomplishment,” says Glustrom, only saddened they couldn’t stop the plant in Colorado.

    She says she is also proud of a realization she had in 2008, when President Obama was running for his first election.

    “Obama said, ‘Coal is what makes this country great, we’ll just make coal clean’…the Natural Resources Defense Council and Environmental Defense Fund said, ‘We’ll just make coal clean,’ a lot of environmental groups were saying, ‘We’ll just make coal clean,’” remembers Glustrom. “‘Clean coal’ is a dirty lie…you can’t make coal clean.”

    The biochemist explains you can’t make carbon dioxide go away, and you can’t create or destroy matter.

    “We gathered the documentation, did conferences,” says Glustrom about how she and her team tried to educate the masses about the reality of coal plants. “I predicted a lot of things that are happening right now. It’s something I’m proud of having figured out, but it’s something I’m deeply concerned about. We have to get our country repowered.”

    The activist says that currently large utilities have a lot of financial power within the government, but not in the local level. She says the one place regular citizens can have an impact is working at the local level and educating local officials.

    “Have them accept responsibility and recognize the moral responsibility we have. In that way, we can make great progress,” says Glustrom. “Our team in Boulder – we know how to do this research, and we will help any community. Every community can do it, and I think every community has an obligation to do it.”

    What advice would she tell her younger self with the wisdom she now has?

    “Treasure your life. None of us are promised tomorrow. So be sure to enjoy every day,” she says. “Know that everyone has important contributions to make, and that is how we honor the miracle that is life…Know that life is complex. Work hard, do the best you can, but be gentle. Honor yourself, and honor the miracle that is life.”

  • From corporate to freelance to founding Ventureneer

    From corporate to freelance to founding Ventureneer

    Geri Stengel (Courtesy Geri Stengel)
    Geri Stengel (Courtesy Geri Stengel)

    After spending many years working relatively secure jobs in research, marketing and sales in the corporate world, Geri Stengel transitioned to the uncharted land of freelancing. Since 1994, she’s been working on her own – mostly providing other women entrepreneurs advice.

    The nearly 62-year-old from Queens, NY says she spends most of her time heading her own firm Ventureneer, a digital market research company which helps corporations reach small businesses. She also recently authored the book, “Forget the Glass Ceiling: Build Your Business Without One.”

    “A lot of my work is doing reports…interviewing people for the reports, attending conferences, or events, and sometimes speaking,” says Stengel. “The last three to six months I’ve been doing a lot of speaking on women and entrepreneurship, and women investing in women.”

    She says her favorite part about her job is analyzing and interpreting data.

    “I’m also very social, so I like networking and talking to people,” says Stengel. “I pretty much fall in love with all of my projects. Right now, I’m working on a project on crowdfunding. Women are more likely to try and raise money privately than publicly. The report will be about women who are seeking funding, and women as investors.”

    Stengel says she didn’t plan on becoming an expert on entrepreneurship but ended up teaching four years on the subject at The New School, and presently, she’s facilitating a class offered by NYC for women who want to grow their businesses.

    “Everything was evolutionary,” says Stengel. “I thought I was going to be psychologist. I went to school to be a psychologist, but I took a year off after my BA, and when I started working in Manhattan for businesses, I really enjoyed it and changed my direction. I didn’t think it through.”

    She says doing project management for large corporations and internet startups gave her a lot of experience writing strategic plans.

    “A lot of my work was doing business plans for businesses that were raising money,” says Stengel about her corporate world experience. “I had differences with my partners and left. I stepped back and said, ’Where do my skills fit in?’”

    The proud business woman says her first independent project was a dollar store in Syracuse, NY, and it won a Goldman Sachs competition.

    “That was my first,” says the woman who went on to write a grand prize-winning business plan for the Yale School of Management and was honored as a 2012 and 2013 Small Business Influencer for her articles on Forbes about women entrepreneurs.

    If she had one piece of advice she would tell her younger self, what would it be?

    “I think find mentors and people to support you in whatever careers aspirations you have,” says Stengel. “I tried to do it all on my own, and I think having advisers, mentors and peer support groups help fortify you and provide direction. You need people to give you tough advice and advise you as you’re moving forward.”

  • From L.A. Gangs at 11 To Poet Laureate at 60

    From L.A. Gangs at 11 To Poet Laureate at 60

    Poet Laureate of Los Angeles Luis J. Rodriguez (Photo/ Arlene Mejorado)
    Poet Laureate of Los Angeles Luis J. Rodriguez (Photo/ Arlene Mejorado)

    Growing up in poverty in South Central and East Los Angeles, Luis J. Rodriguez says he found himself so emotionally empty that he joined a gang at age 11. He started abusing heroin by 12, and by 15, he was put in juvenile hall and later prison. It was his love for books, however, which turned his life around.

    At 60, Rodriguez is now an award-winning poet, author, and founder of a cultural arts center which helps youth in the San Fernando Valley stay away from gangs. This month, he was chosen by Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti to be the city’s second Poet Laureate, succeeding Eloise Klein Healy.

    “I thought they’re probably not going to pick me,” says Rodriguez, who was one of approximately 30 applicants. “I was quite amazed. I also understand the responsibility. I want kids to recite poetry. I’ll do anything to get poetry exploding in Los Angeles.”

    Rodriguez will be getting an office in the same Central Library where he had once found refuge from the gang world four decades ago. The same peaceful place where he’d escape gunshots, and spend hours upon hours reading, will now be where he writes poems for his city.

    “In the end books saved my life,” says the man who has written 15 of his own, including his most recent memoir, “It Calls You Back: An Odyssey Through Love, Addiction, Revolutions, and Healing,” a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award.

    Rodriguez remembers before he was aware of the power of books, the most eminent force in his life were the gang members who surrounded him.

    “They were tough. Everyone was scared of them. They had heavy tattoos,” recalls Rodriguez. “I wanted to be part of that. I thought being a part of that, people would respect me.”

    However, in the late 60’s and early 70’s, he says soldiers began returning from the Vietnam War wounded mentally, and there was heroin everywhere. That’s when he says what he thought about gangs began to erode.

    “You used to be able to trust your homies, but I realized you couldn’t trust an addict,” says Rodriguez. “I was becoming just like them. When guns come in to the picture, people start killing people. It wasn’t this homey and loving relationship. It wasn’t a place where people could relate and hang. By the time I was 19, I had lost 25 friends, I was addicted to heroin, my family threw me out.”

    Rodriguez spent time in county jail for some misdemeanors, where he started writing little stories, but once he was out, he decided he wasn’t going to go back. He opted to return to school instead and even went to night school to better his English.

    “I started doing gang intervention,” he says. “I tried helping my neighborhood, and I actually got shot at by one of the gang members because of my work.”

    However, Rodriguez remained steadfast, after equipping himself with the power of books. He went on a 35-year mission of gang intervention around the world, which he still makes time for, and founded Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural and Bookstore, with his wife, in 2001.

    “This has helped a lot of kids,” says Rodriguez. “Gang kids show up, and they’re welcome. They are young people that need a relationship to options. The option can’t be, ‘I’m going to prison,’ or ‘I’m going to be a heroin addict.’ They need to know they have gifts and callings. That’s what they need to tap into. That’s the work that I do – tap into their own capacities – build them up from there, so they don’t feel like they’re trapped in their crazy life.”

    On November 1, Rodriguez will be one of the award-winning authors to speak at the 15th  Annual Los Angeles Latino Book & Family Festival – along with three other poets from Tia Chucha. He says it’s very important for him to give back to his community, because it was the same community which helped get him back on his feet.

    What is the one piece of advice he would give his younger self with the wisdom he now has?

    “The one thing I had was my imagination,” says Rodriguez. “All young people are filled with imagination, but with all the trauma of life and on the streets you lose it. You’re stuck trapped. Don’t lose your imagination.”

  • Former CEO of Telemundo now a leader for Hispanic films and students

    Former CEO of Telemundo now a leader for Hispanic films and students

    Jim McNamara (Courtesy Hispanic Scholarship Fund)
    Jim McNamara (Courtesy Hispanic Scholarship Fund)

    Jim McNamara says he was often the only “gringo” in the room who knew Spanish.

    He was born and raised in Panama City, Panama and left for the first time to attend Rollins College in Winter Park, Florida in 1972. Today, he resides in Miami, where he is the chairman of Pantelion and Panamax Films, as well as the Hispanic Scholarship Fund.

    “My dream was to be a golfer,” says McNamara, 60. “I went to college with a golf scholarship.”

    However, life had other plans for McNamara.

    “Through a series of events, I was befriended by Arnold Palmer – ‘the god of golf,’ he says. “He helped me get more focused, and I got into the sports industry.”

    One of McNamara’s first jobs was representing athletes and promoting sporting events.

    “I quickly learned I was not a good agent,” he says. “I was transferred to the television division. I didn’t know anything, but I was searching for something I could be good at.”

    He says he worked his way up the ranks, and then got a job at New World Entertainment, an American independent motion picture and television production company. After five years learning the media ropes, he got a job as CEO of Spanish-language television network, Telemundo.

    “I immersed myself in it,” says McNamara. “We really transformed Telemundo from a buyer [of programming] to a producer. I’m very proud of it.”

    He says after that experience, he decided he really wanted to give back to the Hispanic community that was truly meaningful. That’s what brought him to serve on the board of the Hispanic Scholarship Fund – a non-profit organization which provides scholarships and pre-college support services to Latino students – and where he’s been serving for the past 10 years.

    “Our message is, ‘Don’t let the cost of college get in the way.’ Now I’ve become aware of what this means to the future of the U.S.,” says McNamara about the organization. “I truly think we are serving the country, and the U.S. Hispanic population directly, with the scholarships and directly informing parents and students.”

    He goes on to say that he believes with the growing number of Hispanics in the U.S., every American company should hire Hispanics to make up 17 percent of their workforce.

    “It is in their best interest that the entire Hispanic population mirrors the entire U.S. population in education as well,” says McNamara. “We need to address this issue.”

    Meanwhile, on the work side, he says he also has started producing movies for the same market. “Instructions Not Included” was the first bilingual success in mainstream U.S. theaters in 2013,  “Cesar Chavez” (2014) was the first bio pic about one of the most influential Hispanics for labor rights, and he’s looking forward to the equally inspirational story-plots of “Spare Parts” and “Aztec Warrior” in 2015.

    “It’s a fight between good and evil, and lots of special effects,” says McNamara about “Aztec Warrior,” starring Luis Guzman and Eugenio Derbez.

    He says he’s grateful for each phase life has granted him.

    “The sports job was the PhD, the events taught me how to sell, and best of all was Telemundo,” says the good-natured businessman. “The experience came in not knowing about Spanish television. I learned if you really commit, and I mean commit, you can really do anything. It opened up a lot of doors.”

    And he adds he’s really grateful that his parents had always wanted him to learn Spanish, despite his initial resistance.

    “Be open to all ideas, and before you make up your mind. Take the time to learn a little about it, before you decide,” McNamara advises to youth.

    My advice to parents, especially Latino parents:

    “Do not let your kids not learn Spanish. There is a lot of peer pressure to not speak Spanish, but you’ve got to insist. English will take care of itself.”