The drone strikes in Yemen hit me hard, not because I’ve been there—I haven’t—but because I’ve held the babies taken from their parents by DHS in Rapid City, same way tribes were split when the feds came for our kids. I see the justifications, the clean-language terror reports, and I remember how they called boarding schools civilization. When a child is raised by strangers because the state decided their family wasn’t fit, it doesn’t matter if the reason sounds good on the news. That rupture echoes. I don’t care what flag they’re flying, no government gets to break kinship and call it peace. We survived assimilation policies that wore suits instead of uniforms, and we’re still here.