On an otherwise pleasantly temperate day in the summer of 2009 I found myself trapped inside of a quiet, wood-paneled courtroom in Belcourt, North Dakota. I was on the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa Indians Reservation nervously awaiting an important argument before the tribal court. Like many who are called to court, I was afraid of an uncertain future and unsure of how the day’s events would unfold. Unlike many who are called to court, I was sitting in one of the judges’ seats....
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