It Was Me, I Pulled Out Her Chair, She Fell On The Floor

"The Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada (TRC) was created through a legal settlement between Residential Schools Survivors, the Assembly of First Nations, Inuit representatives and the parties responsible for creation and operation of the schools: the federal government and the church bodies.

The TRC’s mandate was to inform all Canadians about what happened in residential schools. The TRC documented the truth of Survivors, their families, communities and anyone personally affected by the residential school experience. This included First Nations, Inuit and Métis former residential school students, their families, communities, the churches, former school employees, government officials and other Canadians." 

Marie Wilson, Murry Sinclair, and Wilton Littlechild were the Commissionaires for the TRC. Each of these individuals have had stellar careers and impressive resumes. They went on a journey for over six years, taking them all over Canada. The end result was an impressive documentation of the journey. 

The  Commissionaires unveiled the results of their work at a Gathering, June 2015 in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. The TRC Gathering was well attended with Indians from all over Canada. The Commissionaires hosted many events prior to the releasing of their Report. Lot of fun was had by All. Dancing, Walks, Seminars, Singing, a Play (by no  disgraced Joseph Boyden pretend Indian) and Pipe Ceremonies. 

Commissionaire Marie Wilson was in attendance of a seminar, held at the  Museum Of Canadian History  It was in a relatively medium sized room. Perhaps a hundred or more people in attendance. The room was filled with plastic chairs and people seated in those chairs. The room was a buzz with excitement. There were people from everywhere; White people, Indians, People of Color, Me, my friend Earl and my brother Don. I don't know who was the speaker at this seminar. 

Earl is a residential school survivor, we attended the same Boarding school as he did, the Fort Alexander Indian Boarding School.  We were fortunate to  go the Ottawa event, due to my brother's efforts. It was a big deal. So I made sure to attend everything going on at the TRC Gathering.  I went to the Pipe Ceremony, the Play, and other meeting events.  We ran into the Honorable Judge Murry Sinclair and other Big Name Indians at the various events. It was an incredible fun glorious momentous time. 

At the speaking seminar in which Commissionaire Marie Wilson was at, we were there. We went in before Ms Wilson had arrived. So we were at the back of the room, standing against the wall. The Commissionaire Marie Wilson had walked past us, as we stood by the wall behind the row of chairs. Commissionaire Wilson has written a book on her experiences during the TRC journey of six years. The people she has met, the Ceremonies she took part in, the travels she took and the stories she heard. Evidently she is a proficient note taker and has a full shelf of her note books from the TRC journey. Commissionaire Marie Wilson was on a radio talk show called Unreserved. It was here I heard her talking of the TRC journey and the resulting book she published: North of Nowhere. Commissionaire Mare Wilson will not me as a-whole-in-the-ground. But I bet she will remember our paths crossing. You see, when I was standing by the wall at the full room of anxious, excited, happy people, I decided I shouldn't have to stand. I mean, I'm one of the Indians here. This event would not be happening if not for Indians like us, who went to school with those Nuns, those Priests, under those circumstances. So being the Indian I am, I reached over to pull a chair so I could sit in it. I pulled it back just enough for me to use it. At the precise time, Commissionaire Marie Wilson had gotten to the chair space and plunked herself down onto said chair. Problem; the chair was no longer there. A scream incurred (or is it occurred, I think it is incurred because it was her fault and not mine, if it was my fault it would occurred) throughout the crowded room of (now) surprised, shocked guests. I yelled out in panic, "it's my fault." My brother and my friend Earl (who I can only describe as a Savage, like in Savage Indian from the Rez) both scrambled out the door. I stood there for a moment, but felt like an eternity, and slowly slithered out the door. Before I left I glanced over to see a colleague of my nephew (both are University Professors) looking sternly at me. Outside of the room I was met with Laughter and scoldings. 

I wonder if esteemed Commissionaire Marie Wilson, and now published author, has recalled this encounter in her book. 

Marie Wilson 

What Did You Do To Get That Feather

I stopped at a gas station called the 59er, situated just on the outskirts of Winnipeg. I saw an Eagle Feather attached to the wall. It made me curious as the story behind the Feather on this non-Native establishment. I asked the lady who was the owner and she said (deceased) Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs, Grand Chief Rod Bushie had given it to her. Rod was a frequent customer of the gas station and decided to give it to the Lady. I have seen a few Eagle Feathers at different places, which were not connected to Natives. At a business where they engrave grave-stones, an Eagle feather was on a window sill. I asked the owner about it. She had found out in the country by her property. I resisted the urge to ask her for the feather. I was in Mahnomen Minnesota a number of years ago. My Dad and brother were still living at the time. Two of my brothers and I had taken my Dad to the casino, Shooting Star. While there I took a drive to a car wrecker yard. I was looking for a vehicle license plate for my brother, Pancho. Pancho collected license plates and tacked them up on his shed. At the wrecker I bought a license plate for ten bucks. Behind the cashier a few Eagle Feathers were hanging up. I asked the white guy behind the till where he got those Feathers from. It is against the law in the United States for white people to have Eagle Feathers, or at least that's my understanding. He told me he finds them in the cars. When cars either get wrecked or however the cars end up in the yard, he finds them. 

I have some Eagle Feathers. I danced Sundance and participated as a Helper for many years. Still I have to ask, "What did I do to get those Feathers?" When I was growing up in the Reserve, the 1960's 1970's, I never saw an Eagle Feather anywhere. People really didn't have them in their possession or their homes. The only Feathers I saw were with Chief of our Reserve, Mr. Dave Courchene. The Eagle Feather has come back to our Reserve and to many other Reserves and people. I see them. It is really good to see. There are some folks who are upset and say "they didn't earn those Feathers." For sure this is a sentiment and could have some merit in the criticism. Still who am I to critique the ownership of an Eagle Feather. 

I have given away Eagle Feathers that I have acquired. In fact I have even given away the Eagle Bustle and an Eagle Headdress.  I got those from my friends from the North of our province, Manitoba.  Whether I had the Right or gave those Feathers or Bustles to someone worthy is another story.  Growing up, we did not see Eagles in the South. The Eagle was not to be seen in our community for many years, in my youth.  I think it was when the DDT was in full use. DDT was a widely used pesticide in the early century and lot of it was used in the 1960s. The  effect of DDT was far reaching and devastating to the bird population, especially birds of prey, like the Eagle. DDT caused a high death rate in the Eagle population. Seeing an Eagle was a rarity. Even rarer is the Golden Eagle Feather. Golden Eagles are pretty rare to see. Seeing an Eagle is considered a Blessing for many an Indian. Social media has numerous posts by Indians haven seen an Eagle or two. 

I was a post-secondary Powwow a number of years ago. The Powwow was honoring graduating Indigenous students. At the honoring, each Indigenous student was presented an Eagle Feather. Honor indeed. The Indigenous Students achieved something many other Indigenous people have not, they met the challenges of the White system and succeeded in getting certificates and degrees. Not an easy feat in a system that once denied them. I would agree those Indigenous people earned their Feathers. I think there are many in today's society who should be recognized. Then again, there are many different opinions of who gets to hold a Feather. Years ago at our Reserve, the Chief was getting a Headdress bestowed onto him by the community. I was standing close to this older guy, and he is Traditional (Traditional is a title to describe people who live by the Indigenous Teachings). This guy started saying those people "shouldn't be giving the Chief a Headdress, he doesn't even know what it signifies, and didn't earn it." In his defense this guy is a pure Arsehole and doesn't have much positive things to say about anything or anyone in the Reserve. I didn't think much of it at the time, when he made those remarks. 

My daughter takes part in this club, it is  called the Butterfly Club. It is hosted and sponsored by Ka Ni Kanichihk, a social organization which supports Indigenous Women who suffered from trauma. The Butterfly Club provides Elders, Teachers, activities for young girls/women in efforts for positive learning related to Indigenous Teachings and practices. It is something that we appreciate. The program is lead by Young Women. The Leaders of this program have come and gone as there are other more lucrative or better opportunities out there. It is great when this young leaders are able to stay for a period of time and establish relations with the young participants. I wanted to honor the two young leaders so my Girl and I gave them a couple of Walking Sticks, which me and my Girl make. I wanted the Young Women Leaders to know we appreciate them. A few days later I was thinking about how they look after the young girls and how my Girl gets to enjoy activities like Sweat Lodge Ceremony, making drums, listening to Teachings, etc. I have some Eagle Feathers which I received from an Elder friend of mine. The Feathers are a mix of small ones and some flight feathers. I got a few Feathers from this White guy I met a while back. He lives in British Columbia and finds Feathers on his property. It was the first time meeting him and I asked him to bring Feathers next time he came to Manitoba. Turns out he did what I asked him. Anyways, I decided to Honor these Young Women Leaders with an Eagle Feather each. I told them to dress up those Feathers and don't let them sit around. I feel they earned the Right to carry a Feather. 

We have some many cliches; "the future is our youth, Women are the life-givers, We must protect our children, young people are gifts, young ones are not given to us-just lent to us," and so many more sayings.  Lot of it is bullshit. We adore the baby of course, we love the women. In reality we, society that is, just plays so much big-lip service to the Youth and the Women. People who are employed as Teachers, Day-care attendants, nurses, are not valued. It is really funny (in a very sad way), when the Pandemic-COVID had people on lock-down, politicians and corporations were praising the front line workers as "The Heroes." Don't hear any of those praises no longer.  Those people, the youth working in the care industry, those Women working in the care industry earn those Eagle Feathers. Very few will ever be honored, be recognized for their achievements, their work, their worth. Never mind ever be bestowed an Eagle Feather. 

“The Eagle Feather is one of the highest honours that an Indigenous person can bestow on someone doing something great,” said local Indigenous leader Myeengun Henry. “The Eagle is the highest flying bird, the one closest to the Creator, which brings messages back to us on earth. The Eagle is very significant in Indigenous culture.”

"God, Allah, Creator, Pick me"

 I have heard the message a few times from Elders, Traditional Teachers and Indigenous people from different countries; that the Earth provides. The Creator, (God, Allah, Jehovah, etc.) is said to have provided everything people need to live. We are to exist through the provisions of the Earth. We have everything we need to live. The Atheists have it summed up when they don't believe a God, person, entity is out there granted them wishes. The Atheists have no notion about being heard by anyone other than their own ears or brain. I guess that is fine, but I wonder if they ever wish for something? 

The Earth provides everything we need, so what is the purpose in wishing for things? I think it is a natural thing to wish, to hope and maybe even to pray for something. Now whether or not those wishes come true is another thing. I really use to believe without a doubt I was looked after by some power. I believed it was my Mom's prayers for my safety which kept me alive. There were close calls where I should have been injured or died. Was it just luck, circumstance, happenstance or divine intervention? Just like when Jules and Vincent were shot at by Jerry Seinfeld. Jerry had a large handgun,  all shiny and big, with big bullets. Jerry was no more than 3 meters away, approximately ten feet for those old boomer types or Americans. Jerry emptied the gun at the two men, Jules and Vincent, but missed them completely. Either Jerry was a very, very bad shot, or an intervention took place. An intervention where a Higher-power, like the Higher-power in Alcoholics Anonymous, moved the bullets away from Jules and Vincent's heads. If the intervention didn't happen, Marvin would not have had his head explode by the bullet of Vincent's gun. 

I am sure you have your experiences or know first hand, of a situation where it was nothing less than miraculous, where someone escaped death or injury. I guess it can be a miracle. It could be luck. The thing is, how come someone is selected to beat death, or injury while others are not so lucky or worthy? For some reason the southern United States has some unlucky people. There are children being killed by people, children with assault weapons. Many of the children in those schools dodge the bullets and some don't. I guess they did not have their prayers or wishes answered. In September there are numerous reminders of the Two Towers and the people who were killed; 2977 dead. No miracle in those circumstances. In 2024, Israel in engaged in a slaughter of Palestinians. It is a Genocide and there has been no intervention, divine or United States backed. 

When being interviewed for television audiences, many politicians, athletes and other famous (and semi-famous) people will acknowledge God, Allah, Jehovah as the reason for their success. The combatants of some contest, will publicly pray for their victory. I wonder how the Great Intervenor decides who is to benefit from their intervention? In the case of the recent Genocide, I imagine it is both Jehovah and God, who are picking the winners. Where the heck is Allah? Allah is not picking for the folks, the Women, the Children who are wishing, begging and praying to be saved. 

I don't know how in the heck, the imaginary Boss lets someone die and someone live. 

Gaza Baby. 

I watched a video, it might have been an incident in India. A man is kicking, hitting a young girl, a child actually. The girl is screaming, crying, holding her arms up to protect herself. The man is ruthless in his beating of her, all the while someone is in the room video taping the beating. Her cries fill the room. I watched it. Rage, anger, extreme sadness, hopelessness just overwhelmed me. The responses from the public towards the video are as expected, people were livid. Some people expressed the desire to kill the man. No one could blame them, for feeling that way. So why is it, this visceral backlash does not apply to other children? There are Children being slaughtered, being blown-up, quite literally to little pieces, with limbs and heads torn off their tiny bodies. Still it is being supported, even celebrated by, seemingly regular people. 

I guess they are not chosen for a miracle, for divine intervention. Their wishes, their begging, their prayers go unanswered. So fuck you God, fuck you Allah, fuck you Jehovah, fuck you. 

It Was a Different Time

Her: "He kissed me, felt me up."  Him: "It was a different time." What is a different time? How do we measure the "time" when things are not different, from say today? Look at the Earth, the Earth is believed or measured to be four and half billion years old, and the universe is said to be fourteen billion years old, there about. Humans have been around for four hundred thousand years. Not sure how the Beings told on each other before speech came into usage, but between 200,000 to 50,000 years ago. Since then, people have been able to tell on those doing them wrong, you think? Not really I guess. Women were property, ethnic people were not worthy to have a voice and so many other things. So now when someone does speak up, there should be someone to listen, right? It was a different time, is actually still that time.

The voice of people is not equal, not even close. Your voice carries weight, or at least it should. Voices are not heard and weighted/measured all the same. So if a woman shares her voice on a matter, she should be be given 'benefit of doubt.' Sadly, not everyone gets the benefit. This time it will be different. 

Fuck it. I have been so stressed out lately. I am struggling with my rage, my anger, my frustration, my sadness, my hopelessness, my despair and my outlook on life. I can see the pain happening in the world, by way of social media sites. The people in the world are in trouble. Their voices have no weight. The weight of their collective voice should be listened to. That is not the case. This is not a different time. 

Been watching a lot of videos on social media and all the many voices out there. We are in a time where people are voicing about colonialism and the affects. People have much more avenues to share their voice, and there are many who voice. One voice says we are more aware of the "wider world" than ever before, and that awareness is harder on us. Ignorance was bliss at one time. The old saying of "I didn't know," was sweet. Yes, it was a different time. 

Now you know. 

Are You Comfortable Being a Villain

 My sister is sick, and has been for sometime now. She lives in our parents old house on the Reserve. After my Dad died, I let her stay there because she was looking after her grandkids. So she has been living there about 12 or 11 years. My Dad was in the local care home before he died. He had cancer, lived alone and had dementia. My parents had given me the Reserve House. They believed youngest son was to get things from them, but I believe it was because I was their favorite. My siblings will all say they were the favorite. My sister has had her struggles. I won't bother with the details. We all have issues and struggles. 

The reason I am a villain is because of my actions. I have told my sister she has to leave the house. Her daughter is upset with me and I know it is hard for them. I have my reasons for kicking them out. They have not moved out yet. So a battle is going on between me and niece. She is hurt and angry with me. 

My Mom and Dad have, had a beautiful home. It is on the south side of the Winnipeg River, which runs through our Reserve. We spent lot of time swimming in the River as kids. We did a lot of fishing and what a view from the house. Mom, especially, had a welcoming way to our home. She would make tea right away for visitors and would sit at the kitchen table. A patio door was in the kitchen, so a great view of the river. Mom's children and mom's grandchildren were all happily received at the house. So when we think of the home, we think of Mom and Dad. Dad sitting at his spot with a coffee in the morning and tea all day long. 

That is not the way it is at the house anymore. Far gone is the welcome feeling at the home. Far gone is the well keep yard. Far gone is the well keep house. I go there and get a dreadful feeling. The welcoming Spirit of my parents doesn't exist in the house. Far gone is the welcoming arms of Granny to her small grandkids. Far gone is the good feelings of a home filled with blessings. 

I am a villain. I kick my oldest sister in her time of need out of the home. My sister's grandchildren have many issues; mental health, physical disabilities, social ills. My sister's children (not all) are struggling with addictions issues. The issues spread throughout the household. 

Do I feel good doing it, no. I have made a decision after years of repeating issues, activities and incidents. If being a villain is what I have to be, then it is so. I have been villain in cases before. It's not a good place to find yourself, but villains are part of life. I am comfortable being a villain. 

Shed built in 1965 by Dad & Mishoom 

Was It a Blessing and Not a Tragic Event?

 August 25 is coming up. This year will 19 years since my Boy hung himself in his mother's closet.  I live with the memory, the aftermath and the situations leading to his killing himself. I think about the day he was found and remember his life as a small child. My son was 20 when he took his life. He had been struggling with a drug addiction. It was CRACK. It was difficult for him and for us as well. I was working in Vancouver, British Columbia. I had gotten him to come stay with me, hoping he would get work and climb out of the addiction. Addiction is a vicious creature, with an appetite that can't be satisfied.  So I think about how his future might have turned out had he not made the choice that he did.

A friend of mine has Parkinson's disease. He used to make documentaries when he lived in Japan. He and his wife moved to Canada as she went to work as a professor at the University. Tadashi is/was a very good person. The disease hit him very quickly. I haven't seen him for a number of years now. I spoke to him on the phone this winter. He lives in a Care facility and is very limited at what he can do. I speak to his wife every once in a while. The odds of a partner having Parkinson's is astronomical. Turns out she has Parkinson's. Unreal. She still lives in an apartment with their grown child. I spoke to her a few weeks ago, but had to cut the visit quick as I was driving in the car with grandkids. She was hoping that she could call along with her husband. He has lucid moments for a short period in the mornings. I remember when he used to exercise and try to get ahead of the disease. I think of the famous actor, Michael J. Fox and how long he has been fighting Parkinson's. I wonder what the difference is between my friend and the actor, and how the actor seems to fairing better than my friend? 

My Sister-in-Law posted a note the other day, Her brother died. No details, just a note saying she will cherish his memory. My wife told me, he might have sought MAID, Medical Assisted In Dying. I don't know the details of what he suffered from. There was to be no service. I believe in MAID. I also believe in Suicide Prevention. A contradiction, I know. On the one finger I am supporting killing yourself, but in the other finger, I don't want anyone to kill themselves. It doesn't add up to two fingers does it? 

An uncle of mine had ALS, Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. From what is written about ALS, it is no doubt a horrible disease with no cure. Your body becomes a coffin with your mind knowing what's going on. I cannot imagine the madness which comes with the disease. I took my Dad to go visit Uncle and it was too much for my Dad, he didn't every want to go back. He spoke to Uncle in Ojibwe and we left. I don't know how long Uncle lasted in a state of not being able to move, to speak, to communicate in any way. Can't imagine how it was for him, my Aunt and his kids. 

I was in a situation where I had control over the last moments of my Dad's life. He was suffering from dementia and cancer. I signed the papers for no medical treatment on my Dad. It was a hard decision but the alternative was to let him continue to live not knowing what was going on and living in pain. So when I think about my Boy, I wonder about his suffering. Could he or would he have been able to win over the addiction? Or would it have gotten worse with the surge of Meth in society? My Boy was suffering and so were people who loved him. His addiction made him do things he could not live with. 

I am wondering if it is selfish of me to think maybe, just maybe it was the right choice for him? The other selfish part of me wants him to be here. If he was here at least he would be breathing, perhaps enjoying a good life. I don't know. Or maybe he would be sharing needles, living and walking the streets, being avoided by all those who love him? Maybe he would get seriously sick from the life of an addict. I don't know. So maybe it was a blessing he doesn't suffer today? Or maybe it is still the most devastating thing to happen in our life? 

So that's the thing isn't it, can we see a Blessing where we feel misery? 

It Pains Me

 "We are still here." This is the sentiment of many Indigenous people out there. The destruction caused by colonialism, Christianity, is immeasurable. Who knows what has been lost due to the greed of White people. It pains me that we live a life of "what if's." The destruction caused by Wendigo is right in front of us and still it continues like it is as a good thing. Whole civilizations have been destroyed, been wiped off the face of the Earth because of White society. It is not a racist statement, just a fact of their way of life; the accumulation of everything. 

“There’s no winning for us. We’re screwed. We were born into a system we don’t agree with, and we got caught. Here, out there, it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing left for us.”

— Richelle Mead

Do You Have Any Currency Left?

Most societies in the World now measure things with price, cost and monetary value. From the Forest to the Oceans, there is a dollar amount assigned to them. It is a weird way of looking at things. I remember entering the off-ramp at Calgary Airport and seeing a poster on the wall; it said "water our valuable resource." We put money value on anything and that is how people can relate to things, "what it costs." 

On BBC television there is a show called Us, I watched a few moments of season one, episode two. The scene was at the food buffet in some hotel. A young Asian Woman was taking a couple of jam spreads when  an older White British man said "the buffet is based on trust and you should just take one jam spread." So she puts one back and goes sit down. He says to his wife, "a bit much with the truth thing?" The episode went on where the Asian Woman was outside the restaurant and says to the Whiteman, "Hey it's me, the thief," and she pulled out a couple of bread roles from her pockets to show off, and then she went on her way. This is interesting little scene. It was meant to be funny but made me think about the Whiteman's audacity.  How can he admonish someone for "theft?"  This is where I think of our own currency. Do we have currency to scold, to begrudge, to critique, to pass judgement? The White British dude had no currency to speak of, and to chastise young woman about taking an extra jar of jam. The guy comes from a society which built unimaginable wealth through theft. So it's really takes some real "nerve" to be the message of the trust virtue. 

We can just about question the value, the currency of most societies, governments and companies. This past week we drove out to Alberta from Manitoba. We went to visit a brother and his family, along with a cousin. The week was to end with us going to Jasper Park and a train ride into the mountains. Turns out Jasper was burning up. Alberta is a province in Canada where the Right political ideology reigns supreme. With the Right thinkers in power, there is no thought to public services and there has been more support to private business. Alberta was ravaged last summer with Forest Fires, and it has not changed much this summer. The Premier of Alberta, Daniel Smith said "we won't always have a $2.9-billion disaster like we did last year."  So you might say that Smith has no legitimacy in what she says, or in other words, she has no currency to share with anyone. How can the government share "thoughts and prayers" to a situation they have helped to occur? 

That is the thing isn't it, who has the currency to be critical of what is happening in the world? Israel has no currency when they speak of democracy, human rights and discrimination. Israel is demonstrating to the world what an absence of moral currency or decency looks like. The United States is another example of the utter lack of human decency. They are actively supporting a Genocide and actively attacking everyone who speaks against the horrors of slaughtering children. So many different places and situations where there are questions as to who "has the right" to be speak. I can understand to a degree why some folk are loud when it comes to issues. For certain, I support Indigenous people and are willing the support for them.  Do we support with every situation? What if, for example, a group of Ojibway people went and slaughtered a 24-pack of Bears. It is a horrible act and should be condemned. But would I condemn it? I would among our group but not publicly to outsiders of our group. 

So I think this is what is happening in the public sphere, people are not willing to voice against things because they want to be supportive, even when children are having their limbs and heads blown off. 

Ogimaawab Sutherland: Ojibwe Teachings - Stories

The epoch of Wenabozho in "oral history", aadizookaanan (sacred stories). Traveled Turtle Island gives names to everything on it. On his journey, hungry, mischievous, & tricking/helping many beings on the way by shaping and molding them, Wenabozho played a major role in the evolution of creation.

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"Gaagige-minawaanigoziwining" means the "Land of Everlasting Happiness." The Milky Way is known by many names in the Anishinaabeg language, including Jiibay Mikana, Mashkiki Miikana, Jiibay Ziibi, and Mashkiki Ziibi. The clusters of stars and many constellations represent the Anishinaabeg clans, or "gidoodeminaanig." In the night sky, our clans shine brightly in the Milky Way, forever telling our stories and those of our ancestors. Our ancestors gather and shine down onto the Earth, connecting us to the loved ones who have gone home. As I put out the spirit plate they put out stuff out for us too. Has we sleep in the night they come and visit us and offer us gifts. We call them into our ceremony. Everyday we have an opportunity to share with each other our stories.

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Anishinaabeg ikidowin(an) noongom

Anishinaabeg word(s) today

Gayaazhi-akiiwi-gikendamowin(an)

Traditional Ecological Knowledge(s)

Anishinaabe-gikendaasowin(an) - Anishinaabe knowledge(s)

Gete-gikendaasowin(an) - traditional knowledge(s).

binaanoondan - acquire knowledge.

biziskenindam - have knowledge

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"Niigaan Miikana: Path of the Future"

The Anishinaabeg teaching emphasizes that we must always prepare for the future, considering the well-being of others. We think about our children and the environment, which includes the spirits of the trees, water, and wind. When we contemplate the future, we include these elements because they are a part of us. Our actions reflect in the outcomes we experience. For example, yelling at a child can instill resentment, hurt, fear, or low self-esteem. Such actions affect not only the individual but also the community, as a traumatized child can impact the well-being of everyone. Similarly, destroying our environment makes it toxic, affecting our health and the health of the animals and other beings we share the world with.

More can be said... I ask myself should I share my whole insight. But it remains on a thought that was in another and shared with me long ago ..

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"Gookomisinaan, Our Grandmother" the namer... Dibiki-giizis the moon...

Gookomisinaan, our beloved grandmother, was the first to bestow names upon us. As Wenabozho grew older, she passed this sacred gift to him. In our tradition, it is the role of our grandparents to give names. When Wenabozho and his siblings were born, gookomisinaan our grandmother, gimishoomisinaan our grandfather, was the one who named them.

One night, Gookomisinaan fell asleep and, in her dreams, she traveled to visit her daughter, Wenabozho's mother Wiininowaa. In the dream, she saw her daughter holding the newborn Wenabozho. As she watched, an amazing rabbit appeared, playing in the woods and naming everything it saw. Inspired by this vision, Gookomisinaan knew the perfect name for her grandchild.

She called upon the trees, inviting them to be niiyawen'enyag, which means "partaking in becoming family." Among them was the birch tree, known as wiigwaasaatig. This tree became Wenabozho's namesake, niiyawen'enh, symbolizing "partaking in becoming family." Wenabozho, in turn, called the birch tree Wen’enh.

Each tree offered part of it self, medicine, “giniginige a mixture of medicine” today instructed to use this medicine as an offering to all of life. Our "tobacco asemaa".

The bond between Wenabozho and the birch tree grew strong over time. When Wenabozho was a boy, the birch tree protected him from the Thunder Beings, offering him shelter from their fierce storms. Later, when Wenabozho needed to find his lost brother, the birch tree helped once more by offering its skin to make the first canoe, allowing Wenabozho to journey across the waters. Wenabozho wrote instructions for gete-Anishinaabeg on the birch bark, and the birch tree forever telling the story on the inside of its bark.

Despite their deep connection, Wenabozho and the birch tree had their disagreements. One day, during a particularly heated argument, Wenabozho, in a fit of anger, threw the scabs from his butt at his Wen’enh, the birch tree. These scabs clung to the tree, and today, we see them and know them as “chaga Shkitaagan.”

This story of Gookomisinaan, Wenabozho, and the birch tree teaches us about the importance of family, the tradition of naming, and the bonds that connect us, even in times of conflict. And whenever you see the chaga on the birch, you'll remember how it came to be and the deep relationship between Wenabozho and the birch tree.

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“Umbilical cord odis” “odis s/he umbilical cord” in the Anishinaabe language. A sacred connection of the umbilical cord at birth. The cord is considered a direct link to the spirit world, as the womb is a sacred place for growth where the spirit connects to the body. It is believed that the spirit/baby chooses its parents. Anishinaabe tradition is to protect the womb, ensuring no negativity is brought near. The community celebrates the womb as the spirit and body develop, establishing sacred bonds. People speak to the womb not as a child but as an adult. Songs are sung, and words of wisdom are shared. Before the influence of Western ideology, the Anishinaabe understood that the heart and spirit first developed a connection, with the heart serving as the house for the spirit. The placenta is seen as the universe and a tree; it is perceived as a tree connected to the universe. An old Anishinaabe story tells how the first people climbed down a tree into this world, a symbol that continues today within the mother's womb.

At birth, the umbilical cord is cut, and it is saved along with some pieces of the umbilical cord and placenta. Family members would go out into the woods before 4 days and bury the placenta at the roots of a tree. The piece of umbilical cord connected to the child eventually falls off and is saved in a pouch alongside medicines such as cedar and other medicines. As the child grows older, they are given sacred bundles, and within these bundles, the piece of umbilical cord is placed among other sacred items such as a rattle, drum, moccasins, or ceremonial items. The child grows into an adult and wears this bundle in a medicine bag around their neck.

I Hate The Poor

When you hear of Winnipeg's Main Street, images of poverty, homeless and the pitiful. There are Winnipeggers who drive around the area just to take photos of people at their most vulnerable and desperate. You can see their efforts proudly displayed on social media sites. One of those sites is People of Winnipeg on Zuckerberg's (also referred to as the world's worst human) Meta platform. This page is filled with the ugliness of being poor, being on the streets, being vulnerable, and it is a page made to show how we can make fun of the poor, how much we hate them and how we ridicule them. 

We don't like to encounter the poor do we? We see them in their ragged clothes, their unclean look, the stench of rotting flesh, festering opening wounds, dripping puss, dried blood, and the indignity of not washing. We are repulsed. We don't want the stench to get on us. We don't want to touch their hands as they reach out for a "hand-out." If we do give them coin-change, we make sure to drop it in their hand or even drop it on the ground, because we fear the chance of getting the poverty touch us. We want them out of our space as quickly as possible. If we had our way, we would never see them. 

We are not afraid to voice our visceral disgust of the poor. We know the majority of people share the same sentiments. The poor are to be despised, to be ridiculed, to be removed from our neighborhoods, our communities and our society. To us, the poor, the homeless, are maggots just living off the carcasses of dead streets. They are just festering scabs on the concrete which we hold dear. We do not want the reminder of how unfair the world is, and the poor remind us of the inequities of society. 

The other day I was driving on Main Street, right in the heart of the poor. There was a gathering of people outside one of the shelters. As I drove by I saw ambassadors of goodwill working on a person. The person was laid out not moving, while the good will ambassadors were trying to revive the person. The ambulance and police were just arriving as I got the intersection greenlight. It is the reminder of what happens to the poor. Either they just go on with existing or they die, we don't know or do we care. 

"Not In My Neighborhood" is a good clean mantra to use. The poor can exist but not around me, around us. "Out of sight, out of mind." We have so many cute idioms to keep us clean from the ugliness that we are. It is not the poor that we hate, it us we hate. We are the cruel, the ugly, the true maggots of society. The poor are the measuring sticks we use to feel we are doing well in society. We look at the rich and long to be them.  We put the rich of pedestals, we worship, we watch their every move, we try to dress as they do, we carry our little Chihuahua's in bags because the rich do that. We watch tv shows and collect magazines of the "lives of the rich and famous" and it is our bible. We are the decrepit, the ugly, the morally repugnant. We look at the rich, we see we are not in their universe of decadence. We say to ourselves, at least we are not poor. 

I fucking hate the rich. 

Knowledge Keeper and Knowledge Giver

There are many beautiful things in the world. Of those beautiful things are youth. How beautiful everything and everyone is when they are young. Children should not be made to suffer. It is so refreshing to hear the laugh of a child. We don't hear laughter like that in adults (except for Indian Women at Bingo). Adults do laugh and some laugh with abandon and it is great to hear and see. But Children, there is something magical in their happiness. A child has so much to offer with their knowledge. They see the world in all its greatness. They can understand the wonder of it all. There is a Teaching of the Spirit, "we are Spirits before we become beings and we go back to Spirits." Children when they are born still remember and see they are Spirits. So they are connected until they age up and this is to the point where the kids forget their Spirit. Don't believe me? I guess. Why do small kids see people we cannot see? Imaginary? It could be the make it up, but it could be they are still connected to the Spirits. Of course there will be older children who have imaginary friends, but those children have grown past the age of remembering their Spirit. 

It is fascinating how anyone can provide knowledge to others. Little kids sharing with others, and nurturing their peers, or teaching, even to adults. When I was a younger husband and father, I was not the best, actually I was a jerk. I was ranting around the house, being angry at my wife, when my three year old took my wife by the hand and took her to the bedroom, as she is walking with her mom,, the three year old says to her mom, "I'm going to tell my Daddy to shut up." Thank the Heavens for small children. They are special gifts lent to the world. I have seen the kindness in children and have often thought, it is inside them and they show us. My youngest grand-daughter always wants to go to the playground at the school by our house. I take her and when the smaller grades are out there, the girls are always first to go play with my grand daughter-Noozhis. They hover, they hold, they hug, they encourage and they smile. What a world it is to be a young child. All that goodness and they are willing to share it. They share it with everyone. 

For whatever reason we tend to lose those Teachings the Children have shared, when we get older. Even the old wisest geezer doesn't carry the Teachings of the Children. We bestow our old people with titles of Elder, Wise, Teachers, Experienced, and Knowledge Keepers. We hold in high regards the Old people. Which of course they (well some of them) deserve. Living a long life has to come with some benefits. After all they must have done some positive things in their lives. Maybe with acts of collecting knowledge, skills and passing on those gifts to others. It is not always the case, the Old ones, will hoard their knowledge, they will expect all sorts of rewards, benefits, financial gain for their knowledge. They abandon any semblance of a Child's generosity of Teaching and nurturing to all. The thing is, there are situations when the Knowledge Keepers should be compensated: seminars, academic arena, lectures and other public information events. Knowledge Keepers, Teachers, should be given respect for their accumulated experience. Giving knowledge to other is the work of the generous. Can you imagine a situation where an Individual keeps his knowledge to their-self? It is the Elder, the Wise, the Experienced, the Knowledge Holder who refuses to share and they should walk with shame. It is like the person who knows how to get the copier machine to make clean copies but doesn't want to show anyone how to do it. Why be like that? It is not the children's way. The Children are Knowledge Givers and old people are Knowledge Keepers. 

The Awesome thing about people, young and old, there are Knowledge Keepers who are also Knowledge Givers. I am glad to know and have know many, have heard some of the Knowledge Keepers. You have knowledge so less hoarding and more sharing. Be like the Children, share with no expectation of rejection, reward, condemnation, commendation. Be a Knowledge Keeper who is a Knowledge Giver. 

A DECLARATION OF SPIRIT Gathering of Indigenous Wisdom Keepers Sending A Message to the World May 24-27, 2012 Sagkeeng First Nation Territory, Manitoba, Canada "Out of the lodges of our Peoples we are being told we have entered a time of great change and opportunity. The cougar, moose and eagles recently came into the community in the Sagkeeng Territory where the Gathering was to take place, and asked us to speak on their behalf about what is happening to the land. Supported by the Grandfather Drum, the Gathering of Indigenous Wisdom Keepers sends this urgent and prayerful message to the world. We are the original free and independent Peoples of Turtle Island, extending back to the beginning of time in Spirit. In keeping with our Original Instructions given to us by the Creator we have a sacred responsibility to our ancestors and our future generations. We also have a ceremonial responsibility to the waters and to our traditional lands and territories, for the sake of Mother Earth and all living things. Everything has a Spirit. Spirit is the life force of every human being and lasts forever. When we rise in the morning we acknowledge the sun as a way of honoring and celebrating the Spirit of Life itself. Our spirituality is our life. Our traditions contain the knowledge and wisdom accumulated by our ancestors and contained in our languages. It is one of our teachings that the beauty of nature is the face of the Creator, and results in our deep and abiding love for the land and water. Water is Life. As humans, we are born through the water of our mother, and the women are responsible for the waters of Mother Earth. An acknowledgment of the sacred feminine is critical to the transformation needed at this time. It is one means of ending the epidemic of violence by men against women, and the neglect and abuse of children, which is destructive to our families, communities, and nations, and detrimental to our future generations. These symptoms are the result of a human spiritual disconnection from the land and from the healing comfort and beauty of Mother Earth. Now is the time to come to the understanding that we cannot respect the future without respecting what makes the future, and what makes the future possible, specifically, our women and children. Our healing wisdom and traditions continue to live on, carried and taught by our Elders, who are precious to us. Without the kindness and compassion of our Elders we would not be able to carry on our Spiritual Way of Life and our ceremonies, through which body, mind, spirit, and heart are more fully connected. Through our songs and ceremonies, sacred fires, our prayers and prayer bundles, and the Original Instructions of our Sacred Laws, we are continually reminded that all Life is interconnected, and that all the colors of the human family and all forms of life are relatives. As a result of the suppression of the cultures of our ancestors, the modern world has been prevented from understanding the wisdom to be gained from our ceremonial-based cultures and our Earth-centered traditions. Our children need to be returned to the center of our families, communities and nations. By mentoring our children, supporting rites of passage for young men and women, we affirm our sacred balance, health and well being. Because of the thousands of years of experience with Spirit, the First Nations and Peoples of Turtle Island have unique gifts to share with the world for healing what has been wounding the human spirit. The answer that every human being is looking for is within the Spirit in each and every one of us. We have always acknowledged that Spirit is a very significant element of our life. Spirit defines who we are. We are all bound by spiritual and natural laws. How can we collectively connect with Spirit? Acknowledge Spirit and show our gratitude. Join us on June 21, 2012 to fulfill our responsibility to honor all Spirit and Life. We invite people throughout the world to join us on that day by making an offering of water to Mother Earth with thoughts of love and thankfulness. This sacred act will invoke the Spirit to guide us to a good life, and will let Mother Earth know we have not abandoned her."

Elder Dave Courchene Jr.

Jedi Mind Tricks.

Some pretty amazing Jedi Mind Tricks being used right now. 100 days of bombardment over the Gaza strip in Palestine. The Israel government have been active in destroying everything and anyone in Palestine. Israel has its reasons. They have been actively telling the World their reasons for destroying Palestine. The actions of Israel are quite clear where the whole world can see. There is a problem, an issue with what the World is seeing and what the Rich Nations, the White Nations are saying. 

The whole World is seeing thousands of Children dying, their families being blown apart, buildings, a whole city being reduced to rubble, just concrete on top of bodies. Countries are saying "Hey, you are committing genocide." Israel, Britain, the United States, Canada, Germany are saying "Nope, you are not seeing what you seeing. We don't see a genocide." A great mind trick, and people are tricked. If you see what you are seeing, you are called a "retard, an anti-Semite, a supporter of terrorism against Israel." The Mind Tricks include the use of the Global Media. The big money ownerships of media has been manipulating the headlines, the reporting, the images of the Genocide to deny it is happening. Big Money, the corporations of the Arms industry are in on the mind tricks. Selling as much Guns, ammunitions as they can to make the Genocide a success. Interesting coincidence, many of the countries denying the genocide are where the munitions are coming from for Israel. If only the Jedi, Obi-wan could have a conversation with the arms dealers of the Globe. 

Dealer: You wanna buy some death sticks?

Obi-Wan: You don't want to sell me death sticks.

Dealer: I don't wanna sell you death sticks.

Obi-Wan: You want to go home and rethink your life.

Dealer: I wanna go home and rethink my life. [leaves] 

Despite the amount of bombs dropped, the number deaths, the amount of destruction, the statements of "kill them all, big and small, nits make lice," by the Death Dealers, also known as Israel, there are still Big Wealthy Countries saying "We see nothing, hear nothing, and say nothing," against the Genocide. 

CNN one of the "most trusted names in News," goes for approval from Israel on what can be reported. If you can't trust the most trusted name in News, well just who can you trust? 

"If You Strike Me Down, I Shall Become More Powerful Than You Can Possibly Imagine." Obi-Wan Kenobi.  

Intense Israeli army activity in Gaza seen from Kibbutz Be’eri as Israeli attacks continue in Be’eri, Israel, on Jan. 4, 2024.

 

Photo: Mostafa Alkharouf/Anadolu via Getty Images