Indians Need Discipline

I remember as a Kid in the Boarding School.  I took a package of those little wooden ice cream spoons. Those little ones that came with those small ice cream cups. It was from the top of her desk. Anyway it was my cousin Todd Fontaine and myself and we got told on by Preston Henderson. The Sister gave us six straps on each hand in front of the other students. We were in grade one or two attending school in the Fort Alexander Indian Residential School.  It was those famous black leather straps which Teachers used on the kids.  I stole so I got disciplined.  Not the first time and not the last time.

This is not the kind of discipline I am talking about when I say Indians need discipline. Not to strap them until they cry or have blue and purple welts on their arse. Another time my cousins and I got straps on the bum from the man in charge at the school.  Those big black leather straps.

You had to see them.   So the kind of discipline is the other kind of discipline. The kind a farmer has.  The kind a bushman or bush-person has. The kind a Trapper has. Discipline of a fisher-person, a military person, the musician, the health conscious and the discipline of knowledge.  The kind  of discipline I wish had.

You see there is a disconnect. People in the Indian community need to learn discipline. They had it. Many still have it. Many got lost. Lot of reasons the discipline got lost. We know the reasons really well. Yet it does not help us. We need to re-learn the discipline of commitment, of effort or passion.

Elder David Blacksmith 

George Muswaggon

I see the discipline in many and they are people we should look to and emulate.

Al Spence 

There are people in this world that have discipline. I see them  in many places. These people discipline usually comes with them having a connection with the land. My in-laws the farmers. You won't see plastic bags floating around the yards or the fields here. They have a respect for the land. That is where discipline comes from; respect. Respect for the land, for your home, for your community, your family and for yourself.

I admire a man like George Muswaggon. He is an educated Indigenous man. He knows his language. Has strong ties with the land; his identity and his culture. Most of all he has discipline; self discipline. This is a man that still travels with work clothes in his vehicle even though he is leader of an agency. He will be one of the first to get dirty, to lend a hand, to work hard. That is a man of discipline a man who respects himself and the world. That is what we need more of in the Indigenous community.

You know there were these old guys in the Reserve that work in the bush. They would joke with the younger guys and say "I wonder what will happen when us guys are no longer around, who is going to do the work?" One of the guys is my cousin Bepkins. He is 75 years old but you would think he is in his forties. He works hard, volunteers and has discipline.
 
My brother in law Al is like that. 75 years old and works everyday looking after cows, feeding them, repairing equipment and being disciplined.

You know people like that. You admire people like that. They know what it means to respect themselves and have tie to the land.

But we know many that are not like that as well.

My brother-in-law thought Reserve school for many years. A big problem for students was being tired. They would come to school not having enough sleep and many missed classes altogether. I remember as a young guy, my Mom would get me and my siblings up in the morning to get to school no matter what time I came in.  Not the situation happening today. Either the parents don't get the kids up or the kids just refuse to listen to the parents. Either way the situation is a lack of discipline.

It may not be the answer to the ills affecting our community but it is one thing we can focus on.

You Don't Believe In Bad Medicine? Stop Doing It Then.

Been told by Traditional people that they don't believe in Bad Medicine. Bad Medicine has been a saying or belief in Indian communities forever (or a long time anyway). Lately lot of Medicine people say there is no such thing. They say this because of the many people coming to them for "Protection". These people believe that someone is putting Bad Medicine on them so their lives are horrible. So Medicine people think it's a hypochondriac situation, or maybe it's more practical thing like: these people don't warrant anyone wanting to put energy in doing them harm.  But seriously there are some of us that want or seek any kind of attention so claiming we are getting "hit" is a way to be seen and heard.

For Me I do believe there is Bad Medicine. Even more so, that we practice it everyday.

It may not be those 'Fireballs' the Old People saw over your house or racing in the sky following you, or the needle flowing beneath your skin and getting into your blood stream, or the glass splinter stuck in your head causing you to go crazy, but don't kid yourselves, it's there. It may not look like the Toad being tossed in your Fire, or the step over your legs but Bad Medicine is practiced. It may look like the Face being twisted to have the crooked face but Bad Medicine is there.  Even the non-believer practice it. It is the evil word, the ugly word, the evil action, the evil words. Bad Medicine is bold and it is quiet. It is sneaky, it so in your face that you don't even recognize it.

We see it playing out everywhere, the Bad Medicine. We see it in our work place, the hospitals, the Band Office, the police car, on the bus, on the street, in the news media, and even our homes.

We feel it when we watch the TV and see a man being burned alive while in a cage. We see it in the eyes of those that are using a big knife to take the head of a person tied up. We see it in the face of a man that beheads a young man and then eats his nose. It can be so ugly that we can't understand how it happened. Like when an Indian man goes to the hospital is ignored for 34 hours and dies in an atmosphere of Care? We see it when a Man of God uses his power and uses his position to rape your child. We see it so ugly. We also see it so friendly. We see it so much that is becomes part of our lives and even in our heroes.  We see it in our elected and our protectors. We hear it coming out of our mouths.

Bad Medicine - There it is: Wab Kinew writes a book and we see it coming out as there are those who call him down for trying and being public. There it is: Terrance Nelson is in the news again, he is the radical one. There it is: David Blacksmith is taking Ceremonies and the Drum to the North. He is a heathen and devil worshiper. There it is: EJ Fontaine has a big business, how did he do it? Uncle again? There it is: Leah Gazan always being in the news, thinks she knows everything. There it is: Chickadee Richard she is a man hater only there to cause trouble.  There it is: The co-worker who talks behind your back. The colleague who undermines without constructive options. The friend who betrays your trust. The husband who beats his wife. It can be just like that; horrible or just the everyday comment.

How do we know it exists? How do we know Medicine exists? I mean the non-believer knows that there is no 'outside forces', right?  Fact is we know what good is right? The  Inuit man who gave the coat off his back to a frozen person, Putulik the homeless man gave his coat to another in the cold. The transit bus driver who stopped his bus and gave his shoes to a shoe-less person. We know good exists because we practice it everyday. We know it exists when you stop and pick up a piece of trash on the ground. We know it exists as you compliment your co-worker for being there. . Good Medicine can be the Eagle Feather you hang over your Door watching and protecting. Good medicine is the  sage in your footwear. Good medicine is Bear Root in your pouch. Good medicine can also be the handshake you give to a stranger.  We know good medicine exists. We know Bad Medicine exists because if it didn't exist we wouldn't recognize Good Medicine.

Even the medical scientific community recognizes Good Medicine.
The New Mom lays her new Baby on her skin. That is good medicine.
The milk of a Mom is the best good medicine for a Baby, much better than formula with all its added nutrients.
A Traditional Teacher goes in the Bush and looks for good Medicine so others can go Sweat and pray with them.
Your Co-worker gives you a ride home when it is so cold out.
You coach a young team of hockey players.
You do your best to work hard when someone gives you a chance.
You remember someone in their time of grief.
Good Medicine is out there and we practice it everyday.
Bad Medicine is out there and we practice it everyday.

Bad Medicine even the best of us use it. Just look at the Facebook.

But Good Medicine is what we should be practicing.

Putulik Qumaq hands over his jean jacket to the teenager who was posing as homeless. (MTLCINEMA)  

Indian Moral Superiority on Indians

The Moral Superior attitude Bill Cosby had on the Black community helped in bringing his true being into the spotlight. Cosby said some things that most would consider racist against Black people; if Cosby was not Black.  Thing is Cosby and other people have been playing the tune of  "they are the no good, doing bad all by themselves".  There are quite a few "pulled myself up from the bootstraps" Indians as well. Clarence Louis is one of them who is  loved by the main stream crowd and media. Like Bill Cosby, Clarence Louis has done some great things, great things. He has brought his community into being a prosperous business zone and success story. There is no doubt he has been very good at developing his community into a powerful voice in the Osoyoos area of British Columbia. Chief Clarence Louis is the leader of Osoyoos Band. He has been strong in the vision of self-sufficiency for the Band. He has delivered and no one can begrudge his actions and achievements.  Like Bill Cosby, Chief Clarence Louis is proud of his heritage. Like Bill Cosby, Clarence Louis has no sympathy for losers, in other words, Indians who fit into the stereotype.  Like Bill Cosby, Clarence Louis is quick to cut down the people, his people.

Because you can’t hate the roots of a tree, and not hate the tree. You can’t hate your origin and not end up hating yourself.

―Malcolm X, 1965

Being morally superior to others is not limited to and not just a phenomenon of the famous, the rich, the powerful or the religiously pious. Nope, it is your everyday Indian who can be far more morally superior to the rest of you (I don't include myself with you as part of the inferior mortal but include myself with morally superior, just for clarification).

There are the Activist Indians who are far more morally superior to you "sitting on the couch watching Dancing with Wolves" Indians. There are the Harry Rosen, Le Chateau and Moores suit and tie Indians who morally superior to you, "never heard of a Windsor knot" Indians. There are the Hard Hat Steel Toe Leather Glove Indians who are superior to you "Only Work Band Jobs"Indians. There are the Le Chateau, Laura, Pennington's, Naturalizer, Canada Goose high stepping Indians who are superior to you "buy my flannel grey sweat-pants at Walmart"Indians. There are "I got my BA" educated Indian who are morally superior to you "never leave the Rez"Indians. There are the "Moved out of the Rez and Pay My Own Way"Indians who are morally superior to you "Quit School to Join Street Gang and Sell Drugs, Stay Up all Night"Indians.  There are so many categories and I leave it to you to fill in the gaps of the morally superior and the morally inferior.

Why do we do it? Why do we point out our flaws, our ills, our weaknesses, our sorrows - publicly, harshly, exaggerated, skewed, corrupted and true?

Some of us call out the men, Where are the men? Men that are not looking after children; Men who are beating the Women ( I almost typed "their Women", but is wrong), live off the backs of the Women and Children.  Where are the Women? Women who have their Children taken by the system, the courts, the Grandparents, the Aunties and Uncles, the siblings.

We judge and we judge. We do it because we are morally superior. We take no look further then what we see. We don't see the past horror they lived through. We don't look at how the constant message, the constant pressure of society telling them, they are no fucking good, rotten, savage, lazy, drunken children.  We don't see the influence of a deity Who had no use for their evil spiritual heathen ways of worship. We don't see how they don't fit in the round peg of the material accumulation and acquisition. We don't see the hurt, the defeat, the defiance, the re-emergence of pride.

Nope, we don't see those things, because our eyes only see what is on television. The TV has John Wayne riding his horse shooting his rifle as ten Indians fall from one shot.

We are morally superior.

Moved to New Blog

https://coolestindigenous.wordpress.com/

I hope that you come visit the new blog.

You have a great day.

Miinaawaa G'waabaamin

Steve

Don't be shy come say hi.

From Ashes to Ashes: Sweet Justice for the Survivors of St. Anne’s

September 10, 2015

By Susan G. Enberg

Fort Albany First Nation in northern Ontario is a small community that—fifty to sixty years later—still reels from the pain caused by brutal abuses inflicted upon children of the James Bay region due to the residential school system. From 1920 to the 1960s, a great number of First Nations children from this region suffered brutal physical and sexual abuses in Fort Albany. Children from the reserve areas of Attawapiskat, Weenusk, Fort Albany, and Peawanuck were forcibly interned at St. Anne’s ‘Indian’ residential school as a matter of Canadian government policy, a racist-colonialist policy known as the Indian Act.

Many small children were ripped out of the arms of tearful parents who were threatened with imprisonment, excommunication, or loss of government subsidies should they refuse to place their children at St. Anne’s, a total institution that aimed for social engineering through Christianization. A culture of fear and silence prevailed as both children and parents were intimidated, told by staff members of the Roman Catholic Church that they would go to hell if abuses by the clergy were ever brought to light. Only since the 1990s has it become known that many of the abuses wielded against the children were inflicted by their caregivers and their teachers: the Roman Catholic clergy of St. Anne’s and workers at the school, with the complicity of the Canadian government.

As an academic and a human rights advocate, I had done much research before travelling to the Fort Albany First Nation community. I was well informed and greatly disturbed when first learning about tortures endured by the children at the hands of their Catholic caregivers. These horrific acts included sexual molestation, rape, being forced to eat their own vomit, and being electrocuted in a homemade electric chair for the ‘amusement’ of bishops, priests, brothers, nuns, and visitors to the school. There were other students who became bullies at the school; bullies who learned from their teachers, the Catholic clergy, that brutal violence was not only socially acceptable but also encouraged. However, speaking with the Survivors in person has provided me an opportunity to truly humanize their stories.

Ed Sackaney asserts that boys at St. Anne’s were taught by a priest to dehumanize and objectify women and girls. The priest forced the boys to look at pornographic magazines, while missing no opportunity to highlight in very derogatory language the various private parts of a woman’s body. The priest taught that women were to be controlled by boys and men, and that girls and women were in no way equal to their male counterparts. This directly contrasts with traditional teachings of the Cree where women, as the life-givers, are to be highly respected. Thus, such an example helps us to understand that self-loathing and hatred of others became learned and ingrained through indoctrination and brutal violence. The violence inflicted upon the children of St. Anne’s led to a legacy of violence passed down through the generations. It is now being recognized, albeit slowly, that Survivors are not just those who attended residential schools, but also their children and grandchildren. It is a legacy that the Indigenous communities of James Bay are desperately trying to dismantle and to consciously uproot from their lives. One recent event in particular may help this along.

On September 4, 2015, I was informed through social media that the rectory, the last standing visual reminder of abuses by the Roman Catholic clergy at St. Anne’s, had burned to the ground. The rectory was a living hell for many of the children of St. Anne’s as they were often brought to that house of horrors through an underground tunnel. In both these places, the tunnel and the rectory, children suffered physical and sexual abuse, possibly including forced abortions. These brutal experiences turned the lives of the children into ashes. So, for many in the James Bay region, the rectory turning into ashes is perceived to be sweet justice.

Indeed, the implosion of this last visual reminder of St. Anne’s may be considered punishment for the crimes, indeed the ‘sins’, of the caretakers who destroyed the lives of the children. The burning of the rectory is also highly symbolic and timely as the Fort Albany First Nation community is taking many steps toward deeper forms of healing. A healing ceremony for Survivors is being planned. The Catholic diocese will be called upon to renounce and denounce its policy of protection for sexual predators among the Catholic clergy. And the OPP and United Nations will be called upon to search for the bones of the many children who were recorded as ‘missing’ from St. Anne’s.

For myself, I am grateful that my crew and I were able to capture the last known images of the rectory before it burned to the ground. Creating an archival database to be shared with the community and researchers will help to preserve the historical record for generations to come. For many who attended St. Anne’s, the smoke and fire emitted by the rectory may be considered a grand smudge, a catharsis that is long overdue. From ashes to ashes. From these ashes, may the Survivors of St. Anne’s begin anew.

Photo: Rectory burning (4 September 2015): Elizabeth Kataquapit, St. Anne’s Survivor

--Susan G. Enberg is currently directing and producing her second documentary film, Erasing Cultural Genocide, in collaboration with the Survivors of St. Anne’s ‘Indian’ residential school (Ft. Albany First Nation, Ontario). A published journalist, Susan continues to pursue a Master’s degree in Documentary Media  (filmmaking) at Ryerson University.

Country: 

Canada

Issues: 

Human Rights

Languages and Cultures

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Time To Moves Ons. Maybe Go Word Press? Yeah, Let's Blow This Google Popsicle Stand.

Been Blogging for a few years now. It has been pretty interesting, kind-a-fun, kind-a-sad, kind-a-maddening and entertaining for me. But the last little while its been not as fun. I want to joke around but just haven't been able to do that. I seem to dwell on being rotten and well that's not fun. I'm also a bit "J" because I see some blogs that get 10000 hits in one day?  Wow, I don't get that in a month.

So I think this might be a good time to try something else. I still like gossiping, being nosey and spreading my three cents all over the place, whether its right or wrong, good and bad or just plain crummy.

It will be 10 years since I first dealt with the loss of my son Donovan. You may know he took his life by hanging in the closet of his mother's apartment. So that's coming soon, this August. I still have his suitcase that he was living out of. Not sure if I will do something with his stuff this year. Not sure if we should have Ceremony for him or do a family Feast like we do every year.

For me suicide has become something that is on mind all the time. I wonder how there can be a cure or a way to really have an impact on the  lives of our children?  Or on the lives of the ones that are here to live with the aftermath?

My cousin lost her boy to suicide three weeks ago. We went out to the Reserve Muscowpetung to support in her boy's service. It was Traditional (Indian) service.  I was sorry for my Cousin and my Auntie. No one should out live their children.

This last week I was at another service for one of my oldest friend's daughter. She died by suicide. I don't know how the family is coping. My friend is struggling but what can one do?

So I struggle about the whole living with the aftermath thing. So does a lot of people. My children, especially my oldest daughter is not dealing at all with the aftermath and its going to be ten fucking years.  Ten years but the pain still drives a nail into your heart. For me I think the constant talking about it, might lesson the sting but not sure. Triggers are always within a side glance, a song, an incident or a word away from suffering the pain all over again.  I live in fear. Fear my kids. There is no way I can ease their pain. Steer them to a place that can ease that hurt.  So for me I just blab it all out there. I don't bottle it up and drink it down, or pill it away. Or do I?  I have been on anti-depressants for 9 and half years now. So I guess that's one way to cope. But the fear is there and its constant. Will my child live? Will the hurt take them too?  What a way to live, to be in fear all the time.

Anyways, that's enough of the fear thing.  I was thinking about trying to spend more energy on suicide prevention and the aftermath of suicide. One of the things for sure is that lot of people are injured when one person takes their life. Lot of people are affected and hurt badly. So maybe I can share some experience on how to cope? Not sure.

I do read a bit on the care of suicide loss and the prevention. There are some good groups out there so maybe my effort is not really necessary or might be redundant?  I like that little semi-colon thing that is happening to stir talk and to remember. One Semi-colon movement is the tattoo semi-colon for suicide awareness. That's nice. And lately Inuit superstar Susan Aglukark has started an Artic-rose-warrior suicide awareness dialog.




For Sure One Day is something I would give my life for. One day to spend with my boy, to talk to him, to stop him from hanging himself. One day so my children, my wife wouldn't suffer the pain. One day to tell him I LOVE YOU.

Coolest People on the Planet: Indigenous.

Indigenous - Coolest People on the Planet.

2-Step Dance - March 2015 - Video 32-Step Dance (Also known as the Rabbit Dance or Raven Dance or Mountain Dance). Video 3March 2015 - Behchoko, NWT, Canada.Camera Person: R,Laboline.
Posted by Our Tlicho Drummers on Sunday, May 31, 2015

Singing the Birds Festival 2015
Posted by Tyrone Harper on Saturday, January 31, 2015

So cool those Neechies, that having cookies and Tea is the most wonderful thing you can think of to do.




The Neechies don't just honour Veterans and Elders once a year. Every Powwow has the Veteran and Elder held in esteem. They sing songs of honour to them. Think about that.

And the Dancers will also honour the Drum.  A Whistle gets blown.


Women, they never forget the Women. Everyone loves a good Jingle, Shawl, Smoke, & Traditional Dance.


There are lots of reasons why Indians or should I say Indigenous  (we can't forget our Sisters and Brothers around the globe) are the coolest people on the Planet; its because the Creator liked them more.

Kia ora




Waea atu ki te Pirihimana! 


So all you non-Indigenous, tongues are sticking out at you.

Ha just kidding, don't get upset, I'm sure the Creator thinks you're cute too.



But not these guys...