It has been years since I was in the USA, and I had never been to Florida, nor had I ever wanted to go there, but when, this fall, some very kind relatives offered me an all-expense paid trip to visit them in their Marco Island condo, I agreed, since it would give me a special opportunity to visit with my sister who has Alzheimer’s disease.
It was a relief to see that I had not forgotten how to change planes in Atlanta, and that my niece was waiting for me when I arrived at Fort Myers airport. We drove to Marco Island, in south-west Florida on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico, to a rather luxurious, gated-community condo where I spent 17 glorious days enjoying all the amenities of ocean and pool swimming; walking on the beach and gathering shells; watching dolphins frolic in the water; eagles, turkey vultures, and other seaside birds floating in the air; admiring beautiful sunsets, one or two lovely sunrises (I’m not an early riser); and a full moon casting luminous light over the shimmering beach and water. Not to mention delicious meals, and good conversation, although tinged with sadness as I watch my sister and her family cope with the debilitating effects of that cruel disease.
Before travelling south, I had tried to discover the identity of the original inhabitants of the territory I would visit, which is Seminole, http://www.semtribe.com/. The name, “Seminole” comes from the people’s word for themselves, “yal’siminoli”, or “free people”.
Their history is similar to that of other tribes across Turtle Island (North America), with the Seminole people being driven from their homeland by forced marches and brutal dispersal to areas further west, much like the historic “Trail of Tears” inflicted upon the Cherokee people of Georgia and other parts of the Atlantic seaboard.
One Sunday, I was able to attend worship at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in Marco Island and was surprised to be shown the “Harriet Bedell Chapel” by the rector, who said that Harriet had been designated a “saint” by the Episcopal Church at its General Convention earlier this summer. On the wall were several old photographs of Harriet and the Seminole people she had befriended, and the parishioners were obviously proud of their “saint” who had been a member of their parish in earlier years.
Born in Buffalo, N.Y., in 1875, Bedell was a school teacher who later trained as a deaconess and served in missions among the Cheyenne Indians in Oklahoma and in a remote area of Alaska. In the early 1930’s, Deaconess Bedell was invited to visit the Seminole Indians in southern Florida.
“Appalled by their living conditions, she began her campaign to improve the quality of life among the Mikasuki-Seminole Indians by living and working with them, not merely teaching them. She sought to revive the doll making and basket weaving skills which had become nearly extinct. She encouraged the incorporation of the intricate patchwork designs made by Indian women into articles of clothing for both women and men. Sales from the arts and crafts store at Blades Cross Mission helped to provide improved income for the Mikasuki-Seminoles. Bedell emphasized health and education rather than religious conversion in her work with the Seminoles; their spiritual and physical comfort was more important to her than religious conversion, and her work and friendship with the Seminoles of Florida reflected those values.” ( http://satucket.com/lectionary/Bedell.htm)
To date, I am unable to find Harriet Bedell mentioned in Seminole history, and I didn’t have a chance to meet or talk with the Aboriginal people of that territory. A gift store owner (non-Aboriginal) in Napes (Fla) told me he didn’t think there were any “Indian” people left in the state. He sold expensive art work, jewellery and crafts but nothing made by the Seminole people. He said he thought they made money with their casinos. (He was apparently referring to the seven Seminole Gaming facilities owned and operated by the Tribe throughout the state.)
So I wonder what happened to Harriet Bedell’s work among the Seminoles? There wasn’t time for me to ask the parishioners, but would they have known, I wonder?
I also met, briefly, a guest visiting the people next door. Fr. Vincent Youngberg is a member of the Passionist Roman Catholic order, living at Our Lady of Florida Retreat House. Ordained later in life, he has never served under a bishop but takes, as his mission, the Gospel message to love Christ to love neighbour as self, to all who will listen. We had very little time to visit but I sensed in him a kindred spirit. You can read more at http://www.ourladyofflorida.org/fr_vince.htm
All in all, it was a wonderful holiday and I enjoyed the chance to experience summer one more time before settling into my small apartment in eastern Ontario where I will engage the winter to come, with fond memories of lying in 95 C degree sun on a warm beach in the sub-tropics - a moment in time spent in la-la land, thanks to the overwhelming generosity and kindness of people who love me.
Thanks be to God
(end)
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
A Manitowaning Memorial - July 4, 2009
March 28, 1970 was a never-to-be forgotten night in the lives of so many families - a two-car, head-on crash between two cars at the top of a hill just outside Manitowaning on Manitoulin Island, leaving three dead in one car, and six in the other.
At the time, it was called the second-highest death toll from an auto collision in the province. All my husband and I knew was that our 17-year old daughter was clinging to life as our friends and neighbours were coping with the deaths of the other five young people in her car. Miraculously, the teenage son of the local OPP corporal had survived and was still conscious when police arrived on the scene.
Thirty-nine years later, thanks to the perseverance of the sister of one of the teenagers in Val's car, we attended the dedication of a memorial plaque to remember the nine young people who died that fateful night: Robert Green, Ann Harasym, Terry Hembruff, Hugh and Paul Morrison, Celina and Patricia Paul, Wayne Wright and Boyne Van Zant; and those whose lives had been changed forever: Martin Brindle, Valerie Koning, Gerald McGregor, Jean Paul, Joseph Roy, Ronald Thompson and Finian Walker.
The July afternoon sun shone brilliantly as about 200 people gathered on the lawn of the Assiginack Museum for the dedication of the plaque placed there by the Municipality of Assiginack, who co-sponsored the event with the Museum.
The service, led by Rev. Martin Garniss of Knox United Church, offered prayers, readings, remembrances and remarks by Leslie Fields and Debbie Robinson of Manitwaning; George Gardner, Pastor of St. Gabriel Lalemant Catholic Church, Birch Island; and Chief Franklin Paibomsai of Birch Island First Nation.
I found it particularly poignant to listen to the young Chief speak of the ways in which the deaths of the young people from Birch Island affected his community. Situated an hour's drive north of Manitowaning, Birch Island is an Indian Reserve through which we passed when driving from the Island to Espanola and the cross-Canada highway, and I had met a very few people from there, but we were all so caught up in concern for our daughter, lying unconscious in a Sudbury hospital, and the grief of so many bereaved families in Manitowaning, that we scarcely had time to think of how the accident had affected that neighbouring community. Chief Paibomsai said he had lost a brother, and two aunts in the accident, which brought grief to his family, and others as well.
So it was good to have friends and relatives from all across the Island and beyond to meet and mingle with members of the families and friends from Birch Island - to share our sense of sadness about the past, and to show expressions of friendship in the present. And I thought I heard a particular message in Chief Paibomsai's words: "We have been brought together," he said. "It is no longer 'me', but 'we' who are to walk together into the future."
Much credit is due Ann Elliott, of Manitowaning, who lost her brother, Wayne Wright, in Val's car. Ann worked tirelessly to gather information from the bereaved families of both communities, to contact everyone she could find who had been a part of the tragic event, and to bring on board Assiginack Reeve Leslie Fields and her Council when they were reminded of the intention of Council shortly after the accident to consider erecting a plaque, but it had been sidelined and never acted upon, until now.
There is gratitude too for David Smith and Jeannette Allen and other dear folk in Manitowaning who offered refreshments following the service, and provided such friendly hospitality.
Coincidentally, my daughter, Valerie Koning Keelan, had been working for several years on the idea of writing a book - an autobiography - which had finally been completed and published just a few weeks before the memorial event. The Manitowaning Library kindly offered Val space for a book-signing, which took place in the morning of July 4th, and again later in the day. Gary and Wilma Neegan and Wilma's sister, Shirley and her husband Lou Vallant, had travelled from Timmins and from Little Current, respectively, to be first in line to buy Val's book. Wilma and Shirley are from Wikwemikong First Nation, and knew Val when they were young girls.
I was delighted to be able to greet other friends whom I hadn't seen for a very long time. My husband, Rev. Tony Koning, had been sent to the Anglican parish of St. Paul's, Manitowaning; St. Francis of Assisi, Mindemoya; and St. John's, South Bay Mouth, in 1966, where we lived until we moved to Englehart in December, 1970. The accident became, in hindsight, a spectacular, never-to-be forgotten beginning to my husband's ministry, which continued for thirty years. And it was good to be remembered kindly, after the passage of all that time.
At the time, it was called the second-highest death toll from an auto collision in the province. All my husband and I knew was that our 17-year old daughter was clinging to life as our friends and neighbours were coping with the deaths of the other five young people in her car. Miraculously, the teenage son of the local OPP corporal had survived and was still conscious when police arrived on the scene.
Thirty-nine years later, thanks to the perseverance of the sister of one of the teenagers in Val's car, we attended the dedication of a memorial plaque to remember the nine young people who died that fateful night: Robert Green, Ann Harasym, Terry Hembruff, Hugh and Paul Morrison, Celina and Patricia Paul, Wayne Wright and Boyne Van Zant; and those whose lives had been changed forever: Martin Brindle, Valerie Koning, Gerald McGregor, Jean Paul, Joseph Roy, Ronald Thompson and Finian Walker.
The July afternoon sun shone brilliantly as about 200 people gathered on the lawn of the Assiginack Museum for the dedication of the plaque placed there by the Municipality of Assiginack, who co-sponsored the event with the Museum.
The service, led by Rev. Martin Garniss of Knox United Church, offered prayers, readings, remembrances and remarks by Leslie Fields and Debbie Robinson of Manitwaning; George Gardner, Pastor of St. Gabriel Lalemant Catholic Church, Birch Island; and Chief Franklin Paibomsai of Birch Island First Nation.
I found it particularly poignant to listen to the young Chief speak of the ways in which the deaths of the young people from Birch Island affected his community. Situated an hour's drive north of Manitowaning, Birch Island is an Indian Reserve through which we passed when driving from the Island to Espanola and the cross-Canada highway, and I had met a very few people from there, but we were all so caught up in concern for our daughter, lying unconscious in a Sudbury hospital, and the grief of so many bereaved families in Manitowaning, that we scarcely had time to think of how the accident had affected that neighbouring community. Chief Paibomsai said he had lost a brother, and two aunts in the accident, which brought grief to his family, and others as well.
So it was good to have friends and relatives from all across the Island and beyond to meet and mingle with members of the families and friends from Birch Island - to share our sense of sadness about the past, and to show expressions of friendship in the present. And I thought I heard a particular message in Chief Paibomsai's words: "We have been brought together," he said. "It is no longer 'me', but 'we' who are to walk together into the future."
Much credit is due Ann Elliott, of Manitowaning, who lost her brother, Wayne Wright, in Val's car. Ann worked tirelessly to gather information from the bereaved families of both communities, to contact everyone she could find who had been a part of the tragic event, and to bring on board Assiginack Reeve Leslie Fields and her Council when they were reminded of the intention of Council shortly after the accident to consider erecting a plaque, but it had been sidelined and never acted upon, until now.
There is gratitude too for David Smith and Jeannette Allen and other dear folk in Manitowaning who offered refreshments following the service, and provided such friendly hospitality.
Coincidentally, my daughter, Valerie Koning Keelan, had been working for several years on the idea of writing a book - an autobiography - which had finally been completed and published just a few weeks before the memorial event. The Manitowaning Library kindly offered Val space for a book-signing, which took place in the morning of July 4th, and again later in the day. Gary and Wilma Neegan and Wilma's sister, Shirley and her husband Lou Vallant, had travelled from Timmins and from Little Current, respectively, to be first in line to buy Val's book. Wilma and Shirley are from Wikwemikong First Nation, and knew Val when they were young girls.
I was delighted to be able to greet other friends whom I hadn't seen for a very long time. My husband, Rev. Tony Koning, had been sent to the Anglican parish of St. Paul's, Manitowaning; St. Francis of Assisi, Mindemoya; and St. John's, South Bay Mouth, in 1966, where we lived until we moved to Englehart in December, 1970. The accident became, in hindsight, a spectacular, never-to-be forgotten beginning to my husband's ministry, which continued for thirty years. And it was good to be remembered kindly, after the passage of all that time.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
AFN National Chief Shawn A-in-chut Atleo
Shawn Atleo, 42, is a hereditary chief of the Ahousaht First Nation whose community looks out over the Pacific Ocean. Raised in a family of "unconditional love", (his parents are both doctors) Shawn said he did not personally experience residential school, but he accompanied his grandmother on a recent visit to her former school, has listened to her stories, and listened with his family as Prime Minister Stephen Harper issued the government's apology for that terrible legacy. "My grandmother said: 'They are beginning to understand'", he told the Assembly in Calgary. And his "Granny" (who is 88) remained by his side throughout the night-long balloting which finally chose him as AFN National Chief, and she placed the ceremonial hat on his head as he was clothed in chief's regalia for the swearing in the morning of July 23rd.
"This is our time," Shawn said, "to use education as a tool" to overcome the effects of the residential school system; to maintain the strength of First Nations languages, history, teaching and values; to support the rebuilding of families and communities; and promote First Nations' participation in strong and sustainable economies locally and nationally.
Shawn and his wife, Nancy, have been married for 23 years and have two children, Tyson and Terry. Shawn has a master's degree in adult education, and is chancellor of Victoria Island University. He also manages his own business, Umeek Human Resources Development. As British Columbia AFN Regional Chief, he was instrumental in bringing together the three BC regional First Nations councils to form the BC First Nation Leadership Council, allowing all three organizations to work together to protect the interests of First Nations in BC and to ensure that Aboriginal title and rights are recognized, accommodated, and reconciled through government-to-government relationships.
In his candidates speech, Shawn called for the appointment of an attorney-general to oversee Section 35 of the Constitution. He pledged to uphold the rights of Indigenous Peoples and the inherent right to implement sacred treaties using clear standards such as those set out, as a minimum, in the UN Declaration for the Rights of Indigenous Peoples; and to call for language retention; respect for Mother Earth; and empowerment of our "fast-growing youth population" to ensure a future of opportunity, success and prosperity.
In his acceptance speech before the Assembly, Shawn said "we must make each other great and good, and we should share equally". Instead of residential schools, we now have children in care, and education is still oppressive where "we have to leave our language and worldview at the door", he said. "We must overcome divisions that we did not create". Referring to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, "we have to be responsible for our own healing," he said. His Granny said the apology is only the beginning, "it has to be followed through to action".
The Assembly of First Nations "is a national advocacy body," Shawn said, "which was always the intention". It provides political advocacy, support and co-ordination for First Nations to engage with governments based on the full recognition of the autonomy, diversity and interdependence of each of the 635 First Nations. Effective communication is high on his list of priorities, and his "update" for this month is already on the AFN website: http://www.afn.ca/.
During one of his speeches, Shawn spoke of how the five candidates were always running into one another as they crisscrossed the country during the election campaign. At these times, he indicated they would consult with one another about their progress so that, after the seventh ballot when it seemed the voting would go on forever, Shawn Atleo and Perry Bellegarde were able to have a quick conference, and with Shawn agreeing to uphold the policies that were so important to the other candidates, they moved to end the contest after the eighth ballot. Some observers thought this meant division - a win-lose situation, which would cause difficulty for AFN's future work - but I sensed this was the beginning - or the carrying forward - of the Indigenous traditional way of leading by consensus decision-making, and to date, I'm not aware of any opposition of note to the new leadership.
I think this feeling of "it's our time" pervaded the convention centre as the new national chief was declared. There was a sense of great relief, but satisfaction too, that they had accomplished the changing of the guard with no blood-letting, but with a strong sense of purpose for change, and new beginnings for the First Peoples of this part of Turtle Island.
As I had listened to all the candidates, I thought I heard many similarities in their policy statements. They all spoke of the need to listen to youth; more and better education and the reclaiming of language; the need for economic opportunities and entrepreneurship; a "rights-based agenda"; respect for Mother Earth and other environmental concerns; lobbying internationally re the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Nations; women's concerns and the need for an enquiry into the missing women across the country; concern for elders and veterans; preparation for dealing with the H1N1 virus and the poverty which increases the danger through inadequate housing and overcrowding, lack of clean water, lack of education and medical resources to care for people.
"We are the people of the Indigenous Nations of this country, coming together to pursue economic independence," he said. "This is our time". His rallying cry of hope and change was reminiscent of US President Barack Obama's call to his people as he assumed office. In Shawn's media conference, he spoke of being invited to attend Obama's inauguration. "I was conscious of standing on steps build by slaves 150 years ago," he said, so I know change can happen. "I receive President Obama's TWEETS, Shawn said, so he keeps informed of how Obama is "trying to pursue changes. He is including all people, especially the youth." Shawn said he hopes to have a network laid across the country so he can dialogue with all 635 First Nations chiefs. "I did a two-year master's degree online in adult education, he said, "so I know how this can work." We can borrow this concept from the US to allow us to maintain the principle of "inclusion", he added, since this will allow me to talk - and listen - to the people.
Shawn also referred to the breakdown of the Recognition & Reconciliation Accord in B.C. "This is not the direction in which we want to go," he said. We wanted to leave the Assembly unified. We left with respect for one another. We will work together."
He faces a challenging future, but AFN National Chief Shawn A-in-saht Atleo brings his youth, his education and skills, his energy, and the goodwill of many people, to the task. I think it will be interesting to watch him at work.
"This is our time," Shawn said, "to use education as a tool" to overcome the effects of the residential school system; to maintain the strength of First Nations languages, history, teaching and values; to support the rebuilding of families and communities; and promote First Nations' participation in strong and sustainable economies locally and nationally.
Shawn and his wife, Nancy, have been married for 23 years and have two children, Tyson and Terry. Shawn has a master's degree in adult education, and is chancellor of Victoria Island University. He also manages his own business, Umeek Human Resources Development. As British Columbia AFN Regional Chief, he was instrumental in bringing together the three BC regional First Nations councils to form the BC First Nation Leadership Council, allowing all three organizations to work together to protect the interests of First Nations in BC and to ensure that Aboriginal title and rights are recognized, accommodated, and reconciled through government-to-government relationships.
In his candidates speech, Shawn called for the appointment of an attorney-general to oversee Section 35 of the Constitution. He pledged to uphold the rights of Indigenous Peoples and the inherent right to implement sacred treaties using clear standards such as those set out, as a minimum, in the UN Declaration for the Rights of Indigenous Peoples; and to call for language retention; respect for Mother Earth; and empowerment of our "fast-growing youth population" to ensure a future of opportunity, success and prosperity.
In his acceptance speech before the Assembly, Shawn said "we must make each other great and good, and we should share equally". Instead of residential schools, we now have children in care, and education is still oppressive where "we have to leave our language and worldview at the door", he said. "We must overcome divisions that we did not create". Referring to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, "we have to be responsible for our own healing," he said. His Granny said the apology is only the beginning, "it has to be followed through to action".
The Assembly of First Nations "is a national advocacy body," Shawn said, "which was always the intention". It provides political advocacy, support and co-ordination for First Nations to engage with governments based on the full recognition of the autonomy, diversity and interdependence of each of the 635 First Nations. Effective communication is high on his list of priorities, and his "update" for this month is already on the AFN website: http://www.afn.ca/.
During one of his speeches, Shawn spoke of how the five candidates were always running into one another as they crisscrossed the country during the election campaign. At these times, he indicated they would consult with one another about their progress so that, after the seventh ballot when it seemed the voting would go on forever, Shawn Atleo and Perry Bellegarde were able to have a quick conference, and with Shawn agreeing to uphold the policies that were so important to the other candidates, they moved to end the contest after the eighth ballot. Some observers thought this meant division - a win-lose situation, which would cause difficulty for AFN's future work - but I sensed this was the beginning - or the carrying forward - of the Indigenous traditional way of leading by consensus decision-making, and to date, I'm not aware of any opposition of note to the new leadership.
I think this feeling of "it's our time" pervaded the convention centre as the new national chief was declared. There was a sense of great relief, but satisfaction too, that they had accomplished the changing of the guard with no blood-letting, but with a strong sense of purpose for change, and new beginnings for the First Peoples of this part of Turtle Island.
As I had listened to all the candidates, I thought I heard many similarities in their policy statements. They all spoke of the need to listen to youth; more and better education and the reclaiming of language; the need for economic opportunities and entrepreneurship; a "rights-based agenda"; respect for Mother Earth and other environmental concerns; lobbying internationally re the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Nations; women's concerns and the need for an enquiry into the missing women across the country; concern for elders and veterans; preparation for dealing with the H1N1 virus and the poverty which increases the danger through inadequate housing and overcrowding, lack of clean water, lack of education and medical resources to care for people.
"We are the people of the Indigenous Nations of this country, coming together to pursue economic independence," he said. "This is our time". His rallying cry of hope and change was reminiscent of US President Barack Obama's call to his people as he assumed office. In Shawn's media conference, he spoke of being invited to attend Obama's inauguration. "I was conscious of standing on steps build by slaves 150 years ago," he said, so I know change can happen. "I receive President Obama's TWEETS, Shawn said, so he keeps informed of how Obama is "trying to pursue changes. He is including all people, especially the youth." Shawn said he hopes to have a network laid across the country so he can dialogue with all 635 First Nations chiefs. "I did a two-year master's degree online in adult education, he said, "so I know how this can work." We can borrow this concept from the US to allow us to maintain the principle of "inclusion", he added, since this will allow me to talk - and listen - to the people.
Shawn also referred to the breakdown of the Recognition & Reconciliation Accord in B.C. "This is not the direction in which we want to go," he said. We wanted to leave the Assembly unified. We left with respect for one another. We will work together."
He faces a challenging future, but AFN National Chief Shawn A-in-saht Atleo brings his youth, his education and skills, his energy, and the goodwill of many people, to the task. I think it will be interesting to watch him at work.
Monday, August 24, 2009
AFN National Chief Shawn A-in-chut Atleo - the voting procedure
They knew it would be a close race, but they weren't prepared for the all-night voting marathon that resulted in the election of Ahousaht First Nation heredity chief Shawn A-in-chut Atleo as national chief of the Assembly of First Nations at Calgary's Telus Convention Centre July 23. But everyone present seemed to sense that something new and good had happened.
Outgoing leader Phil Fontaine had led the country's 633 chiefs to this point, where survivors of the Indian residential schools had begun to receive compensation, Stephen Harper had issued the government's apology in the House of Commons, the Truth & Reconciliation Commission was ready to go to work, and even the Pope had offered words of understanding about the terrible legacy of the schools.
But, good as that was, it was in the air - a sense of expectation that change was about to happen.
The voting began with five candidates: Atleo from the west coast, John Beaucage from Ontario, Petty Bellegarde from Saskatchewan, Bill Wilson from the west coast, and Terrace Nelson from Manitoba. All were worthy candidates, with excellent leadership records within their own regions, but Bill Wilson and Terrance Nelson dropped off after the first round, since neither received the required 15% of votes.
Total number of chiefs voting was 553, and the winner would have to achieve 60% of the votes cast. On the second ballot, John Beaucage dropped out. He said later he saw his support dropping and decided to leave the contest to Atleo and Bellegarde. He suggested his supporters go to Bellegarde, as did Wilson and Nelson, reflecting the fact that these candidates stood for recognition of the historic treaties, while Atleo was known to have been supporting the B.C. treaty process, without consideration for prior treaties.
This concern was no doubt alleviated somewhat when Atleo declared his support for the withdrawal of the B.C. Chiefs from the current negotiations between them and the B.C. provincial government because they weren't sure the terms would provide enough benefit to their people.
The balloting continued throughout the night, with Atleo and Bellegarde running neck and neck, at one point polling 254 votes each, but eventually, lack of sleep drove some chiefs to leave the hall. By early morning, after the seventh ballot, there was quick consultation between Atleo and Bellegarde and their supporters and elders, so that when the eighth ballot showed Atleo had pulled ahead with 53.5% and Bellegarde had 41.45% (two ballots rejected), Atleo was declared the winner, even though the required 60% had not been reached. The elders and those in charge of the election decided that was close enough.
Thus, at 7:45 a.m., Thursday, July 23rd, Shawn Atleo was declared the new National Chief, and with ceremonial blessing, smudging, drumming and song, he took the oath of office and gave his acceptance speech.
Viewed through non-Indigenous eyes, this contest would have seemed to result in a divided AFN community, with ramifications that could slow down the work of the Assembly of First Nations, and some media reporters portrayed the result in that light, but I didn't see it that way at all.
In my next post, I'll talk about that.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
An old reporter goes after a story, once more -
My trip to Calgary this year included the opportunity of joining the media to cover the 30th anniversary gathering of the Assembly of First Nations and election of a new National Chief.
I had planned to be visiting my son and his wife and family, and since the AFN event was to take place during those weeks, it seemed logical for me to sit in on the activities. My long-time friends and media colleagues Dan and Mary Lou Smoke were happy to sponsor me as the media contact for their University of Western Ontario CHRW radio Show, "Smoke Signals", so there I was, in the Telus Convention Centre, signing in alongside the national and local media reps - just like old times.
What fun, I thought, to be in the midst of media people, wired to the ears with all the latest electronic gadgetry to stay in constant touch with home base editors, and AFN headquarters, and nominee communications folks, trying to outdo one another for the latest bit of news. They were all so busy, and involved, and I was just walking around with my trusty pen and notebook in hand. I felt somewhat dinosaur-ish.
Reporters asked: What final words does the incumbent AFN Chief, Phil Fontaine, have for the members after his nine years' leadership stint? Who does he think is the front-runner in the election of his successor? Who does anyone think will win the election? Can I get the interviews I want (my editor asks for) before the next deadline? It was all very exciting, but I admit I was watching and listening with a sense of deja vu.
I thought back to the earliest days of the Assembly of First Nations, when it was known as the National Indian Brotherhood, and before that, the Indian-Eskimo Association. I began to realize that most of the current lot of reporters weren't alive at that time, but since I was, our points of reference seemed to be different.
I knew we had to report today's activities, but somehow it didn't make sense to me without keeping in mind all those years of history. In fact, I wasn't a reporter in those early years - I was more of an observer or participant who recorded what I saw happening around me. And all those years of history were informing what I was seeing and hearing now, at this Gathering.
There were times when we just had to wait around while people made speeches and presentations, before they could be interviewed, so I stood with the reporters: bright, intelligent young people, all of whom I liked, who sometimes asked questions when I happened to speak of past associations with Indigenous history-makers. The Dene and the Mackenzie valley pipeline project, the Restigouche salmon struggle, the Alice Arm tailings dispute, the Lubicon Cree battle for their land, the Innu low-level flying protesters, Oka, the E.C. Row Expressway, Ipperwash - and I was explaining how these struggles erupted, and why, and how I have watched Turtle Island Indigenous Peoples begin to take back their lives over the years, and why I therefore, see some new dynamics happening at this Gathering.
They listened politely, even respectfully, and it's even possible that some of them got a sense of why history is important in trying to report on Indigenous matters in this country. I followed press, radio and TV reports as best I could, and generally speaking, there was a good effort made to set the stories in some kind of context from an Indigenous perspective.
And so, while I didn't get the hot news stories they did - and I reminded myself that I was reporting to a weekly show which wouldn't be on air until everyone had packed up and gone home, and all the stories from the Gathering had been filed, and read all across the country - it seemed I may have been fulfilling some sort of worthy purpose, even if it wasn't the one my editors expected of me.
On the other hand, I know that we talk often about the need to help media people become aware of Canadian Indigenous history, and Dan and Mary Lou have been teaching that course in London, Ontario for several years now, so I knew they would understand that my secondary purpose might not be in vain.
But there is also the story of what happened within the Assembly of First Nations organization, and that all-night voting procedure. I will try to share that, from my perspective, in my next blog.
I had planned to be visiting my son and his wife and family, and since the AFN event was to take place during those weeks, it seemed logical for me to sit in on the activities. My long-time friends and media colleagues Dan and Mary Lou Smoke were happy to sponsor me as the media contact for their University of Western Ontario CHRW radio Show, "Smoke Signals", so there I was, in the Telus Convention Centre, signing in alongside the national and local media reps - just like old times.
What fun, I thought, to be in the midst of media people, wired to the ears with all the latest electronic gadgetry to stay in constant touch with home base editors, and AFN headquarters, and nominee communications folks, trying to outdo one another for the latest bit of news. They were all so busy, and involved, and I was just walking around with my trusty pen and notebook in hand. I felt somewhat dinosaur-ish.
Reporters asked: What final words does the incumbent AFN Chief, Phil Fontaine, have for the members after his nine years' leadership stint? Who does he think is the front-runner in the election of his successor? Who does anyone think will win the election? Can I get the interviews I want (my editor asks for) before the next deadline? It was all very exciting, but I admit I was watching and listening with a sense of deja vu.
I thought back to the earliest days of the Assembly of First Nations, when it was known as the National Indian Brotherhood, and before that, the Indian-Eskimo Association. I began to realize that most of the current lot of reporters weren't alive at that time, but since I was, our points of reference seemed to be different.
I knew we had to report today's activities, but somehow it didn't make sense to me without keeping in mind all those years of history. In fact, I wasn't a reporter in those early years - I was more of an observer or participant who recorded what I saw happening around me. And all those years of history were informing what I was seeing and hearing now, at this Gathering.
There were times when we just had to wait around while people made speeches and presentations, before they could be interviewed, so I stood with the reporters: bright, intelligent young people, all of whom I liked, who sometimes asked questions when I happened to speak of past associations with Indigenous history-makers. The Dene and the Mackenzie valley pipeline project, the Restigouche salmon struggle, the Alice Arm tailings dispute, the Lubicon Cree battle for their land, the Innu low-level flying protesters, Oka, the E.C. Row Expressway, Ipperwash - and I was explaining how these struggles erupted, and why, and how I have watched Turtle Island Indigenous Peoples begin to take back their lives over the years, and why I therefore, see some new dynamics happening at this Gathering.
They listened politely, even respectfully, and it's even possible that some of them got a sense of why history is important in trying to report on Indigenous matters in this country. I followed press, radio and TV reports as best I could, and generally speaking, there was a good effort made to set the stories in some kind of context from an Indigenous perspective.
And so, while I didn't get the hot news stories they did - and I reminded myself that I was reporting to a weekly show which wouldn't be on air until everyone had packed up and gone home, and all the stories from the Gathering had been filed, and read all across the country - it seemed I may have been fulfilling some sort of worthy purpose, even if it wasn't the one my editors expected of me.
On the other hand, I know that we talk often about the need to help media people become aware of Canadian Indigenous history, and Dan and Mary Lou have been teaching that course in London, Ontario for several years now, so I knew they would understand that my secondary purpose might not be in vain.
But there is also the story of what happened within the Assembly of First Nations organization, and that all-night voting procedure. I will try to share that, from my perspective, in my next blog.
Friday, February 6, 2009
The Anglican Church of Canada History Update
ABC Publishing has just released a new book: "SEEDS SCATTERED AND SOWN: Studies in the History of Canadian Anglicanism", edited by Norman Knowles. This book is following on the "last general history of the Church in Canada" by Philip Carrington in 1963, and so covers the years in which I have been active as an adult in The Anglican Church of Canada (ACC).
Of particular interest to me is Chapter 9 - "'I Suggest that You Pursue Conversion': Aboriginal Peoples and the Anglican Church of Canada after the Second World War", by Christopher G. Trott. The quote comes from Dave Courchene, President of the Manitoba Indian Brotherhood, speaking to the 24th General Synod (the ACC triennial general meeting), August 20, 1969.
Trott, an assistant professor in Native Studies at St. John's College, University of Manitoba, has worked with Inuit on Baffin Island since 1979, focusing on the history of Anglican missions in the region. "The history of the relationship between the church and First Nations has been seen through the lens of the residential schools", he writes, adding that this "close connection between the history of these schools and missions to and with Aboriginal peoples has obscured other problems and successes." Referencing the works of J.R Miller and J. Milloy with their intensive research on the relationship between the residential schools, the churches, and the federal government, Trott says with understatement: "Anglican involvement in residential schools is a painful story".
And he offers an unvarnished account of the relationship between ACC missionaries, the Church nationally, and the Federal government which I have read in other books and documents. When the author reaches the point at which the lawsuits have been launched, with one western diocese already in bankruptcy, and the General Synod drawing ever closer to the same financial position, I began to take special note, since I have copious notes in my files concerning that time.
The churches were trying to negotiate some sort of financial settlement with the Feds, but frustrations mounted as different church entities faced different numbers of lawsuits, and had differing ways of trying to meet their responsibilities. So the ACC decided to go out on its own to negotiate an arrangement with the government that would "meet the church's obligations in financial terms while at the same time allowing it to continue its ministry, and to expand the healing and reconciliation ministry with Aboriginal peoples".
In November 2002, the ACC and the Feds reached an agreement "that limited the church's responsibility to $25 million, ended Anglican Church involvement in the litigation, and established an alternative dispute resolution (ADR) process for dealing with claims of sexual and physical abuse", Trott writes.
There was strong reaction to the agreement from the Anglican Council of Indigenous Peoples (ACIP), since it had not been consulted in the negotiation process, and Trott suggests there may have been some reason for that, "but it certainly did appear", he continues, " that the old colonial models of the non-Aboriginal church deciding paternalistically on behalf of Aboriginal peoples were still in place, and that nothing had been learned since 1969 in the struggles for Aboriginal recognition in the church."
Of particular interest to me is Chapter 9 - "'I Suggest that You Pursue Conversion': Aboriginal Peoples and the Anglican Church of Canada after the Second World War", by Christopher G. Trott. The quote comes from Dave Courchene, President of the Manitoba Indian Brotherhood, speaking to the 24th General Synod (the ACC triennial general meeting), August 20, 1969.
Trott, an assistant professor in Native Studies at St. John's College, University of Manitoba, has worked with Inuit on Baffin Island since 1979, focusing on the history of Anglican missions in the region. "The history of the relationship between the church and First Nations has been seen through the lens of the residential schools", he writes, adding that this "close connection between the history of these schools and missions to and with Aboriginal peoples has obscured other problems and successes." Referencing the works of J.R Miller and J. Milloy with their intensive research on the relationship between the residential schools, the churches, and the federal government, Trott says with understatement: "Anglican involvement in residential schools is a painful story".
And he offers an unvarnished account of the relationship between ACC missionaries, the Church nationally, and the Federal government which I have read in other books and documents. When the author reaches the point at which the lawsuits have been launched, with one western diocese already in bankruptcy, and the General Synod drawing ever closer to the same financial position, I began to take special note, since I have copious notes in my files concerning that time.
The churches were trying to negotiate some sort of financial settlement with the Feds, but frustrations mounted as different church entities faced different numbers of lawsuits, and had differing ways of trying to meet their responsibilities. So the ACC decided to go out on its own to negotiate an arrangement with the government that would "meet the church's obligations in financial terms while at the same time allowing it to continue its ministry, and to expand the healing and reconciliation ministry with Aboriginal peoples".
In November 2002, the ACC and the Feds reached an agreement "that limited the church's responsibility to $25 million, ended Anglican Church involvement in the litigation, and established an alternative dispute resolution (ADR) process for dealing with claims of sexual and physical abuse", Trott writes.
There was strong reaction to the agreement from the Anglican Council of Indigenous Peoples (ACIP), since it had not been consulted in the negotiation process, and Trott suggests there may have been some reason for that, "but it certainly did appear", he continues, " that the old colonial models of the non-Aboriginal church deciding paternalistically on behalf of Aboriginal peoples were still in place, and that nothing had been learned since 1969 in the struggles for Aboriginal recognition in the church."
I remember so well that there were some of us Anglican church people who stood with ACIP, horrified that our Church should take such a cavalier attitude to such a devastating history. We supported ACIP's concern that the ADR process "would restrict the rights of those who might choose to litigate through the courts", and also would "abrogate (survivors' rights) to sue the government and the church on the basis of loss of language and culture."
I also remember my feelings when we realized what had happened between the Church and the ACIP - that the rights of Aboriginal peoples seemed to have been cast aside in order to keep the institution financially viable.
Trott writes: "Perhaps it took a financial crisis of this magnitude finally to focus the attention of the church on the needs of Aboriginal peoples."
I think truer words were never written, and I am pleased and relieved to see this acknowledgement of our failure to live up, at that particular moment, to what I think we as Church are called to do - to stand in solidarity beside our wounded brothers and sisters.
But I also agree that those were very anxious days for the Church, and we know that we are not perfect. In Trott's words,
"To what extent has the Anglican church thrown off the mantle of colonialism in its relationship to Aboriginal peoples? The Residential Schools Settlement Agreement would suggest that when push comes to shove, the church continues its age-old paternalistic role. In the modern period, Aboriginal peoples are positioned to respond quickly and make their voices heard in the councils of the church. There is hope here. ... As Canadian Anglicans struggle to assert the unique identity of their church in relationship to the worldwide Anglican communion, it will be only as we recognize the prophetic vitality of Aboriginal Anglicans that we will have something distinctive to say."
I am most grateful to Professor Trott for this contribution to "SEEDS SCATTERED AND SOWN: Studies in the History of Canadian Anglicanism".
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
From Peterborough International Film Festival, Januaray 24, 2009
CLUB NATIVE was one of many excellent films shown at "ReFRAME, the Peterborough International Film Festival" last Saturday. Filmmaker Tracy Deer tells the story of her people at the Kahnawake Reserve where the "very firm but unspoken rules" of the community not to marry a white person, and not to have a child with a white person profoundly affect the lives of Tracy, her family and friends. The stories of the young women is shown with honesty and sensitivity, helping us to understand some of the difficult decisions facing Aboriginal young people.
I was also reminded of about 30 years ago, when I attended one of the "Living History" conferences presented by Dean Jacobs, then director of NIN.DA.WAAB.JIG Heritage Centre at Walpole Island, now Bkejwanong First Nation. At one workshop led by an Elder whose family name was Thomas, I believe, but I'm not sure of his first name (he was then in his nineties, and very highly respected among his people, I know). The Elder spoke of how parents and grandparents should be sure their children and grandchildren marry "Indians" (the word used then). An Aboriginal grandmother responded tearfully. "I love my grandchildren," she said. "I wouldn't want to have to give them up." I'm sure the Elder heard the same pain in her voice and words that I heard, but he was quietly but firmly adamant - we (the Aboriginal people) should make sure that our children marry within our race, because, even then, I'm sure he could see what was happening, and how his people, the Anishnabe Council of the Three Fires, were in danger of disappearing eventually, and he didn't want that to happen.
I could understand, with pain in my heart for both the Elder and the grandmother, where each of them was coming from, and I could understand the good reasons for inter-marriage not to happen, but I also thought of how we cannot always legislate affairs of the heart. Young people of different races do meet and fall in love, and that love between two people can indeed be strong enough to raise children who can be a great blessing - to families, to the community, and to the nations of the world.
One of the young women in Tracy Deer's film is Waneek Horn-Miller, daughter of Kahentinetha Horn, current reporter (former editor) of Mohawk Nation News whose writings strongly support the sovereigny of the Mohawk Nation (as do I, but not at the expense of throwing out all the other governments in Canada - I would seek equality, and as long as that's denied the Mohawk Nation, we do face a justice issue, I agree).
The film points up most poignantly Waneek's dilemma as she falls in love with a white man, who also loves her. At one point, Waneek says that before she is Mohawk, "I am a human being" - and I think that is the crux of what we all, ultimately, have to come to terms with. What does it mean to see ourselves as human beings, before we identify ourselves according to our nation, our heritage, our skin colour, race, faith position? It is perhaps only as each of us recognizes that in our shared humanity, we are all equal, that we can find the kind of sharing in which each of us helps the other to become the best person I am/you are meant to be.
CLUB NATIVE speaks of the definition of what it means to be a Native person. It is a superb film, and could help many of us to reach a better understanding of what it means to be "different".
I was able to speak with Tracy after the showing and said I noticed there was no mention of residential schools. She rolled her eyes (politely and beautifully!) and said that adds a whole other layer of complexity to the story, so she left that out of this film, but is working on another which will explore that dimension of Aboriginal life.
I am eagerly looking forward to that film, for there is an even greater need for Canadians to hear that story, for that is the point at which we - the non-Indigenous people of this part of Turtle Island - must understand the part we played in trying to shape the "definition of a Native person". This is the story we must hear and comprehend if there is ever to be a new, healthy, harmonious relationship between the Original Peoples, and those of us who have been coming to join them over the past 500 or so years.
Jean Koning.
I was also reminded of about 30 years ago, when I attended one of the "Living History" conferences presented by Dean Jacobs, then director of NIN.DA.WAAB.JIG Heritage Centre at Walpole Island, now Bkejwanong First Nation. At one workshop led by an Elder whose family name was Thomas, I believe, but I'm not sure of his first name (he was then in his nineties, and very highly respected among his people, I know). The Elder spoke of how parents and grandparents should be sure their children and grandchildren marry "Indians" (the word used then). An Aboriginal grandmother responded tearfully. "I love my grandchildren," she said. "I wouldn't want to have to give them up." I'm sure the Elder heard the same pain in her voice and words that I heard, but he was quietly but firmly adamant - we (the Aboriginal people) should make sure that our children marry within our race, because, even then, I'm sure he could see what was happening, and how his people, the Anishnabe Council of the Three Fires, were in danger of disappearing eventually, and he didn't want that to happen.
I could understand, with pain in my heart for both the Elder and the grandmother, where each of them was coming from, and I could understand the good reasons for inter-marriage not to happen, but I also thought of how we cannot always legislate affairs of the heart. Young people of different races do meet and fall in love, and that love between two people can indeed be strong enough to raise children who can be a great blessing - to families, to the community, and to the nations of the world.
One of the young women in Tracy Deer's film is Waneek Horn-Miller, daughter of Kahentinetha Horn, current reporter (former editor) of Mohawk Nation News whose writings strongly support the sovereigny of the Mohawk Nation (as do I, but not at the expense of throwing out all the other governments in Canada - I would seek equality, and as long as that's denied the Mohawk Nation, we do face a justice issue, I agree).
The film points up most poignantly Waneek's dilemma as she falls in love with a white man, who also loves her. At one point, Waneek says that before she is Mohawk, "I am a human being" - and I think that is the crux of what we all, ultimately, have to come to terms with. What does it mean to see ourselves as human beings, before we identify ourselves according to our nation, our heritage, our skin colour, race, faith position? It is perhaps only as each of us recognizes that in our shared humanity, we are all equal, that we can find the kind of sharing in which each of us helps the other to become the best person I am/you are meant to be.
CLUB NATIVE speaks of the definition of what it means to be a Native person. It is a superb film, and could help many of us to reach a better understanding of what it means to be "different".
I was able to speak with Tracy after the showing and said I noticed there was no mention of residential schools. She rolled her eyes (politely and beautifully!) and said that adds a whole other layer of complexity to the story, so she left that out of this film, but is working on another which will explore that dimension of Aboriginal life.
I am eagerly looking forward to that film, for there is an even greater need for Canadians to hear that story, for that is the point at which we - the non-Indigenous people of this part of Turtle Island - must understand the part we played in trying to shape the "definition of a Native person". This is the story we must hear and comprehend if there is ever to be a new, healthy, harmonious relationship between the Original Peoples, and those of us who have been coming to join them over the past 500 or so years.
Jean Koning.
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