• CKAP1
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• CKAP31

Create a family tree with your own family background. Your tree needs to include only three generations.

Part1:

• Place your tree on a large enough sheet of paper so that all names are legible.

• If your family tree is very large, complete your most immediate family first your tree does not need to include more than 50 people.

• Include marriages and maiden names of the women if available. For example:

John Smith + Joanne Little ORJohn Smith + Joanne (?)

Part 2:

• On lined paper, choose any five people from your tree (you may be one).

• Record the location and the year in which the people were born.
• Record where they lived for the majority of their lives.
• Record to whom they were married (if applicable).
• Record the year in which they died (if applicable).
• Record the information in point form.

Hand-in both part 1 and part 2 on the due date               

Alternate Assignment

Instead of completing a family tree.

• Choose any one person from your family or someone you know personally (e.g., grandparent, parent, auntie, uncle, significant adult or other pop culture person) whom you consider to be inspirational someone you admire.

• In proper sentence and paragraph form, write:

• Where and when was the person born?
• Where did the person grow up?
• What makes the person inspirational/admirable?
• Tell one story from his/her life (may also be why he/she is inspirational).

• To be a minimum of 200 words in length.

• This assignment is worth the same amount of marks as the family tree assignment.

• Due date is the same as the family tree assignment.

• Do not complete both a family tree and this assignment do one or the other.

(LaPlante, Dwayne. Pilot Teacher. Mount Royal Collegiate. Used with permission.)

CKAP2 Cree Kinship Terms

A. Grandparents, mother, father, son, daughter, siblings - younger & older

nôhkom

my grandmother

nimosôm

my grandfather

nikâwiy

my mother, my mother’s sister

nôhtâwiy

my father, my father’s brother

nitânis

my daughter, my parallel-daughter

nikosis

my son, my parallel-son

nicisân

my sibling

nistês

my older brother, my older parallel-cousin [son of mother’s sister or father’s brother]

nimis

my older sister, my older female parallel-cousin [daughter of mother’s sister or father’s brother]

nisimis

my younger sibling, my younger parallel-cousin

2. Uncles, aunts, and cross-cousins

nisis

my mother’s brother, my father’s sister’s husband, my father-in-law, my father-in-law’s brother

nohcâwis

my father’s brother, parallel-uncle

AUNTS

nisikos

my fathers’s sister, mother’s brother’s wife, mother-in-law, father-in-law’s brother’s wife

nikâwis

my mother’s sister, parallel-aunt

Cross-cousins who are older than ego (self) who is male (the speaker)

nîstâw

my male cross-cousin, my father’s sister’s son, my mother’s brother’s son

nîtim

my female cross-cousin, my father’s sister’s daughter, my mother’s brother’s daughter

Cross-cousins who are older than ego (self) who is female (speaker)

nîtim

my male cross-cousin, my father’s sister’s son, my mother’s brother’s son

nicâhkos

my female cross-cousin, my sister-in-law (woman speaking)

C. Other terms of kinship and friendship

niciwâm

has many meanings in male kinship and friendship (used by male speaker only)

niciwâm

my brother, my friend, my male parallel-cousin, sometimes nistâw is used in the same manner

nîcimos

my cross-cousin (opposite speaking), this is a diminutive

D. Other words

Ninâpêm

my husband

niwÎkimâkan

my spouse, my wife, my husband, my housemate

nâpêw

man

nâpêsis

boy (diminutive of nâpêw)

iskwêw

‘woman’

iskwêsis

‘girl’ (diminutive of iskwêw)

(Reprinted with permission from Barbara McLeod, (Educator and First Nations Languages Consultant with the Prince Albert Grand Council and Saskatchewan Learning) in consultation with Shirley Waskewitch and Leonard Ermine.)

CKAP3 The Riel Family of Red River

Louis Riel, the charismatic Metis leader of the 1870 and the 1885 resistance movements in the West, was the product of a dynamic but tragic Metis family of Red River. The Riel family’s history began in the province of Quebec. Louis Riel’s grandmother was Marie Ann Lagimodiere, the woman credited with having the first white child in the Canadian West. Marie Ann Gaboury was born into a staunchly religious and hardworking habitant family who farmed a plot of land on the north shore of the St. Lawrence River.

Marie Ann was a headstrong woman who was attracted to the free-wheeling coureurs de bois rather than to those steady but boring young swains, the serfs of the seigniorial system in Quebec. At twenty-five, she was still unmarried, a fact that caused tongues to wag in her native village, and she was consequently a source of much discomfort and worry for her parents.

At twenty-six, Marie Ann married Jean Baptiste Lagimodiere, an exuberant coureur debois, but unlike her more passive female peers, she refused to sit waiting month after month for her lover to return from the rivers and forests. So, despite the fears and trepidations of everyone, including Baptiste, her new husband, she went west with him on the long and dangerous canoe voyage to the Red River country. Her first child, a girl whom she named Reine (Queen) was born in a tent while she was accompanying her husband on the trail. The birth was handled by gentle Cree midwives, who so impressed her with their warmth and kindness that she became their life-long friend, eventually returning to live with them when her husband died many years later.

Julie Lagimodiere was born years later, just another child in a large family among the Metis of the Red River. When she grew up she married a dashing young French Metis named Jean-Louis Riel. Jean-Louis Riel was from a relatively wealthy background. He had been sent to Quebec for his education, as was the custom for the sons of the local petit bourgeoisie of Red River. Julie, however, was illiterate, since women’s education was deemed an unnecessary luxury.

Jean-Louis entered studies for the priesthood in Quebec, but during his years of study he became aquainted with the revolutionary political ideas of Louis Joseph Papineau, who, together with William Lyon Mackenzie, initiated the rebellion in Upper and Lower Canada in 1837. When Jean-Louis Riel returned to Red River, he did so as a radical free trade proponent. But Jean-Louis was also an inventor and innovator. He constructed the first mill at Red River. Almost singlehandedly, he dug a 15-kilometer canal to obtain additional water for his water-driven mill situated on the bank of the vapid sein River, a small tributary of the Red River.

The Riel family prospered, since Jean-Louis was not only a miller, but also a subsistence farmer and free trader doing business with the American merchants in St. Paul. Like his father, young Louis Riel was sent to Quebec at age fourteen to study.

Louis, one of the oldest in a family of eight children, had been a precocious child who excelled as a student in Red River. He arrived at the Petit Seminaire de Montreal in 1858 to begin ten years of study. During this period he missed his family and his community. He was known as a lonely, sensitive and deeply anguished youth, especially after he received word of his father’s untimely death in 1864. Jean-Louis died tragically on his twentieth wedding anniversary, leaving Julie and eight children behind.

Louis returned to Red River in 1868. Like his father, he had abandoned the priesthood for politics. In 1870 he was banished to Montana for his political activity in Red River. His sister Marie died of influenza in 1873, and his brother Charles died of the same disease in 1874. Louis, unable to return, had to mourn their deaths from afar. Two of his sisters were afflicted with tuberculosis, and one, a nun, is rumoured to have died after a fall down a flight of stairs. The family’s tragedy was compounded when its small fortune disappeared, as the Riel family became victims of political persecution.

During his period of banishment, Louis married Margerite Monet, a petite Metis from Montana who was seventeen years his junior. Marguerite was a slim, sickly woman who nevertheless bore him two children, Jean, in 1881, and Angelique, in 1883. In 1886, Marguerite died of tuberculosis, exacerbated by severe emotional trauma, brought on by the execution of her husband on November 16, 1885. The delicate Angelique died of diphtheria at age of fourteen, in 1897.

Jean, the last surviving member of the Louis Riel family, was a handsome young man who resembled his father. Standing over six feet tall, and with a slim build, he was eagerly sought after by the women of Quebec, where he received his education. Jean married a Quebec woman named Laura Casult, and returned to Red River in 1908. But Jean was involved in a buggy accident in May of that year. The accident did not seem serious, but by June he knew that he was dying. He wrote to Honore Jaxon, an old compatriot of his father who was living in Chicago, asking him to write the true story of his beloved father. This had been a task that Jean Riel had set for himself, but he knew that he would never be able to complete it. He died a few days later, at the age of twenty-six. He was buried in St. Boniface Cathedral cemetery, near his father. Thus, the Riel family who had provided two of the greatest of the Metis leaders, had left no progeny for posterity.

(McLean, Don, 1987, pp. 47- 50. Reprinted with permission from the Gabriel Dumont Institute.)

CKAP4 Family Life in Various Traditions

To Aboriginal people, family signifies the biological unit of parents and children living together in a household. But it also has a much broader meaning. Family also encompasses an extended network of grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. In many First Nations communities, members of the same clan are considered family, linked through kinship ties that may not be clearly traceable, but stretch back to a common ancestor in mythical time.

Under the rules of clan membership, individuals are required to marry outside the clan to which they belong. Over generations, this resulted in every family in a community being related by descent or marriage to every other family in the community. Indeed, in rural communities whose membership has remained stable over time, family and community represent the same network of persons.

The layers of relationship built up over generations are described in a study of traditional life among the Caribou Inuit who live in the area west of James Bay.

The practice of marriage between cousins, with restrictions against marriage within the same clan, has been found in other Aboriginal societies as well.³ The problem of intermarriage with close kin were evidently known historically to Aboriginal people. Elders report that raids on neighbouring nations to steal wives, as well as large seasonal gatherings where marriages of persons from different communities were contracted, were methods used to broaden the gene pool of small communities.

Aside from descent and marriage, Aboriginal people became kin or like kin in other ways as well. For example, adoption was a common practice in most communities. Some nations, such as the Iroquois, adopted captives taken in war, giving family names and full membership privileges to these persons, who replaced a member lost to war or misfortune. It is still common practice in many communities for parents to give a child to another family in the community. In some cases, a fertile couple would agree to have one of their children adopted at birth by a childless couple in so doing the two families would contract a special bond with each other for life. As well, many traditionalists, having retained their knowledge of Aboriginal language, bush skills and medicine practices, consider it a privilege to have been reared by grandparents within these customary adoption arrangements.

Other forms of bonding within a community included hunting partnerships whereby kin groups or friends would share hunting territories to reduce the impact of the harvest on the land. The entire group would use the territory of one part of the partnership one year, then shift to another partner’s territory the following year. These partnerships also often entailed certain obligations to distribute meat from the hunt.

The effect of these diverse, overlapping bonds was to create a dense network of relationships within which sharing and obligations of mutual aid ensured that an effective safety net was in place. As Ernest Burch observed regarding the Caribou Inuit:

As is the case in contemporary society in Canada, among Aboriginal peoples traditionally it has been the responsibility of the family to nurture children and introduce them to their responsibilities as members of society. However, the extended family continued to play a significant role throughout the lives of its members. When a young man went out on the hill to seek a vision of who he was to be and what gifts were uniquely his, it was not because he was preparing to go out into the world and seek his fortune.

Rather, he could come back to the camp or the village to obtain advice from his uncles or his grandfather on the meaning of his experience, and his ‘medicine’, or personal power, was to be exercised in the service of family and community.

A clear division of labour along sex lines prevailed in most Aboriginal societies. For example, among the Anishnabe (Ojibwa),

Métis families similarly divided responsibilities between men and women as they ranged on extended hunting expeditions from permanent settlements, such as Red River. A woman from a Montana Métis settlement, who lived a mobile lifestyle with a group that migrated from Manitoba to Montana following the buffalo, recalled camp life in the early part of the twentieth century:

Our men did all the hunting, and we women did all the tanning of the buffalo hides, jerky meat making,

In many Aboriginal nations, women could become warriors, hunters, healers or bearers of chiefly names and titles. But their contribution to the well-being of the community was typically through responsibilities specific to women, including marriage and child rearing. The fact that women did so-called women’s work did not necessarily mean that they had minor influence or low status...

The Métis Extended Family

Thelma Chalifoux, a Métis woman of senior years who has been honoured for her community service, spoke at our hearings about her experience in a Métis extended family:

... In Thelma Chalifoux’s generation, the pursuit of the buffalo had given way to waged employment. Métis people (continued) to be mobile, but the maintenance of community life fell to the women.⁷ Sharing within the extended family helped ease the effects of economic ups and downs. Women were the decision makers and practical nurses, and they were secure in their skills and knowledge. Decisions in organizations, presumably political, were reached by consensus within the family.

Clearly, Métis culture in the framework of a strong extended family was a source of life skills and confidence for Senator Chalifoux. [Her experience] highlights the vitality of Aboriginal families and their effectiveness in fostering a strong sense of identity and extraordinary resourcefulness in individuals, particularly those who are now elders....

(Canada. Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, 1993, pp. 11-15. Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples. - Vol. 3. Gathering Strength. Ottawa, ON: Reprinted with permission from Canada Communication Group Publishing.)

CKAP5 The Spirit of Generosity

Children in Native Cultures often sat in a circle while an older person talked to them of what was ahead as they became adults and what they should do to live good lives. A recurrent message was that the highest virtue was to be generous and unselfish. Long before he could participate in the hunt, a boy would look forward to that day when he would bring home his first game and give it to persons in need. Training in altruism began in earliest childhood. When a mother would share food with the needy, she would give portions to her children so they could experience the satisfaction of giving.

Children were instructed to always share generously without holding back. Eastman tells of his grandmother teaching him to give away what he cherished most, his puppy, so that he would become strong and courageous. Giving was a part of many ceremonies, such as a marriage or a memorial to a loved one. People engaged in gift-giving upon the least provocation children brought food to their elders’ tipis and women made useful and artistic presents for orphans and widows. Prestige was accorded those who gave unreservedly, while those with nothing to give were pitied. To accumulate property for its own sake was disgraceful.

Unlike communal societies where property was owned collectively, individual ownership prevailed in Native cultures however, property was not acquired for conspicuous consumption but to be better able to help others. Things were less important than people, and the test of one’s right values was to be able to give anything without the pulse quickening. Those not observing these customs were seen as suspicious characters whose values were based on selfishness. While generosity served to redistribute wealth, giving had more than an economic rationale. Core values of sharing and community responsibility were deeply ingrained in the community. Giving was not confined to property, but rather permeated all aspects of Native culture.

Bryde observes that one does not have to live long among the Indian people today to realize that the value of generosity and sharing is still very much alive:

Bryde concludes that the modern Indian has the ability to be content without driving for status through material possessions and to measure others by intrinsic worth rather than external appearance.

Members of the dominant culture who define success in terms of personal wealth and possessions are usually unable to view positively the Native values of simplicity, generosity and nonmaterialism. Yet, this value system has enabled an oppressed people to survive generations of great economic and personal hardships, and has made life more meaningful. Giving was the delight of the Indians: "The greatest brave was he who could part with his cherished belongings and at the same time sing songs of joy and praise."

Native culture shares with Western democracy the fundamental tenet of responsibility for the welfare of all others in the community. Conrad and Hedin call for a return to the spirit of service among contemporary youth to counter the attitude of "looking out for number one" that is rampant today.

The power of caring in Native cultures is summarized in a story shared with us by Eddie Belleroe, a Cree elder from Alberta, Canada. In a conversation with his aging grandfather, he posed the question, "Grandfather, what is the purpose of life?" After a long time in thought, the old man looked up and said, "Grandson, children are the purpose of life. We were once children and someone cared for us, and now it is our time to care.

(Reprinted with permission from Reclaiming Youth at Risk: our Hope For the Future by Larry K. Brendtro, Martin Brokenleg, and Steve Van Bockern, Copyright 1992 by the National Educational Service, 304 W. Kirkwood Ave., Suite 2, Bloomington, IN 47404, 800-733-6786, www.nesonline.com pp. 44- 45.)

CKAP6 The Spirit of Belonging

In Traditional Native society, it was the duty of all adults to serve as teachers for younger persons. Child rearing was not just the province of biological parents but children were nurtured within a larger circle of significant others. From the earliest days of life, the child experienced a network of caring adults. Standing Bear observed that each child belonged both to a certain family and to the band wherever it strayed, it was at home, for all claimed relationship.

The days of my infanthood and childhood were spent in surroundings of love and care. In manner, gentleness was my mother’s outstanding characteristic. Never did she, or any of my caretakers, ever speak crossly to me or scold me for my shortcomings.

Kinship in tribal settings was not strictly a matter of biological relationships but rather a learned way of viewing those who shared a community of residence. The ultimate test of kinship was behavior, not blood: you belonged if you acted like you belonged. Children were trained to see themselves as related to virtually all with whom they had regular contact. They honored valid kinship bonds, and relationships were manufactured for persons still left out so that everyone would feel included in the great ring of relatives.

Treating others as related was a powerful social value that transformed human relationships. Drawing them into one’s circle motivated one to show respect and concern, and live with a minimum of friction and a maximum of good will. To this day one of the similarities among various Indian peoples is a quiet, soft-spoken manner of dealing with others which results from a world view that all belonged to one another and should be treated accordingly.

The sense of belonging extended to nature as well. Animals, plants, people, and streams all were interdependent. From childhood, children were taught through stories that if this harmony was upset, tragedies could result. All are related, and one’s actions impinge on the natural environment. Maintaining balanced ecological relationships is a way of ensuring balance in one’s life.

Recent research by Red Bird and Mohatt shows that belonging to a community (Tiyospaye) continues to be the most significant factor in Sioux identity. This belonging is expressed by vibrant cross-generational relationships such as grandparents sharing stories and legends with children. ^{(pp 37 - 38)}

The goal of Native education was to develop cognitive, physical, social and spiritual competence. One of the first lessons a child learned was self control and self restraint in the presence of parents and other adults. Children were taught that wisdom came from listening to and observing elders. Ceremonies and oral legends transmitted ideals to the younger generation. Stories were not only used to entertain but to teach theories of behavior and ways of perceiving the world. Such lessons became more meaningful with repetition the more one listened, the more was revealed. Stories facilitated storing and remembering information and functioned as a higher order of mental process that ordered human existence.

Competence was also cultivated by games and creative play which simulated adult responsibility. Dolls and puppies taught girls nurturing behaviors while boys were given miniature bows and arrows in preparation for the hunting role. For older boys, team games promised rowdy excitement while fostering toughness and courage. Girls’ games were less combative and fun was expressed through contests of skill or chance. Children learned to make articles of utility and adornment, and art was in integral part of everything they created. The learning that came from such activities was effortless, since the motivation towards competency and group involvement provided powerful intrinsic reinforcers. While play was encouraged, this was balanced by an emphasis on work as well.

From the earliest years parents

nourished the mastery of responsibility:

I was asked to do little errands and my

pride in doing them developed. Mother

would say, "Son, bring in some wood." I

would get what I was able to carry, and if

it were but one stick, Mother would in some

way show her pleasure.

Older children were given responsibility caring for younger children. Deloria describes a grandmother tending an infant asleep in a blanket on the ground. She had to leave so she called her own five-year-old son from his play and instructed him, "Cinks (son), stay here until I come back and take care of him. He is your little son, so do not leave him alone." Her tone was earnest, as if in conversation with an adult. "See that he is not stepped on, he is so tiny - and scare the flies for him." Some time later he was still on the job. While his eyes wistfully followed his playmates nearby, he stuck to his post. He had already learned that a father does not desert his son.

Success and mastery have produced social recognition as well as inner satisfaction. Native children were taught to generously acknowledge the achievements of others, but a person who received honor must always accept this without arrogance. Someone more skilled than oneself was seen as a model, not a competitor:

There was always one, or a few in every band, who swam the best, who shot the truest arrow, or who ran the fastest, and I at once set their accomplishment as the mark for me to attain. In spite of all this striving, there was no sense of rivalry. We never disliked the boy who did better than the others. On the contrary, we praised him. All through our society, the individual who excelled was praised and honored.

The simple wisdom of Native culture was that since all need to feel competent, all must be encouraged in their competency. Striving was for attainment of a personal goal, not being superior to one’s opponent. Just as one felt ownership in the success of others, one also learned to share personal achievements with others. Success became a possession of the many, not of the privileged few.

CKAP7 CIRCLE OF LIFE

CIRCLE OF LIFE

CKAP8 The Circle of Courage

Vocabulary

pedagogy  psychological  alienation  holistic

vulnerable  efficacy  milieu  intrusion

Traditional Native American child-rearing philosophies provide a powerful alternative in education and youth development. These approaches challenge both the European cultural heritage of child pedagogy and the narrow perspectives of many current psychological theories. Refined over 15,000 years of civilization and preserved in oral traditions, this knowledge is little known outside the two hundred tribal languages that cradle the Native Indian cultures of North America.

Indians were conquered by military and technologically superior European invaders who saw them as primitive peoples who had much to learn but little to offer to a modern society. In reality, Native peoples possessed profound child psychology wisdom which might well have been adopted by the immigrants to North America. Instead, missionaries and educators set out to "civilize" their young "savages" with an unquestioned belief in the superiority of Western approaches to child care. Typically, children were removed from families and placed in militaristic schools. Forbidden to use their own language under penalty of severe whippings, their supposedly inferior identity was stripped away. Generations of such cultural intrusion have left deep scars of alienation on Indian children and families.

Native American philosophies of child management represent what is perhaps the most effective system of positive discipline ever developed. These approaches emerged from cultures where the central purpose of life was the education and empowerment of children. Modern child development research is only now reaching the point where this holistic approach can be understood, validated and replicated.

Fostering self esteem is a primary goal in socializing normal children as well as in specialized work with children and adolescents at risk. Without a sense of self worth, a young person from any cultural or family background is vulnerable to a host of social, psychological and learning problems. In his definitive work on self concept in childhood, Stanley Coopersmith observed four basic components of self esteem are significance, competence, power and virtue:

Traditional Native educational practices addressed each of these four bases of self esteem: (1) significance was nurtured in a cultural milieu that celebrated the universal need for belonging, (2) competence was insured by guaranteed opportunities for mastery, (3) power was fostered by encouraging the expression of independence, and (4) virtue was reflected in the pre-eminent value of generosity.

The number four has sacred meaning to Native people who see the person as standing in a circle surrounded by the four directions. Lakota Sioux artist George Bluebird has portrayed the philosophy of child development in the medicine wheel in the art accompanying the text. We propose belonging, mastery, independence and generosity as the central values - the unifying theme - of positive cultures for education and youth work programs. We believe the philosophy embodied in this circle of courage is not only a cultural belonging of Native peoples, but a cultural birthright for all the world’s children.

(Reprinted with permission from Reclaiming Youth at Risk: our Hope For the Future by Larry K. Brendtro, Martin Brokenleg, and Steve Van Bockern, Copyright 1992 by the National Educational Service, 304 W. Kirkwood Ave., Suite 2, Bloomington, IN 47404, 800-733-6786, www.nesonline.com pp. 34-35.)

CKAP9 Elders’ Interviews

Discipline

Discipline of children was a key focus of raising children practiced by the parents and adults in the old days. My parents really pushed and disciplined us as we were growing up. They were very clear as to what our responsibilities were and what they expected from us. If we failed to meet our responsibilities we were thoroughly lectured on what we were doing wrong. This type of guidance and direction (continued) day in and day out. We were taught to work hard at meeting our chores and responsibilities. Our parents took real interest in these things and how we behaved. They frowned upon laziness and failure and we were always instantly corrected in these situations. They set certain examples and provided role models through their actions and related many of their experiences both positive and negative.

I never had the opportunity to attend school so my education was provided by my parents. I was taught our Native values, customs and the language. Their efforts centered on preparing me for the challenges of life.

Guidance and discipline in child rearing have always been and will continue to be important values. This must be (continued) and encouraged primarily to younger families.

Discipline, through encouraging and communicating to children were the basic practices to raising children in the old days. By communication to the child, they were told what is right and what is wrong. They learn from what they are told and what they experience. If you don’t talk to children they lack direction and motivation and become very negative in life.

I was shown respect, honor and discipline and grew up with these.

Traditional Child-Rearing

During these days a lot of attention and care was given to children by the community and to our customs and values. Children were never removed from the Reserve as families were always found who would take them. There was no financial assistance available and this was not a concern or issue. There were cases of child neglect due to various reasons, however, child abuse was virtually non-existent. If a child was being neglected or abandoned then the grandparents or other members of the family took the child as their own, either permanently or temporarily depending on the situation.

In the old days discipline on children was practiced. However, in maintaining discipline, physical or other methods of force was never used. This was accomplished by communication, talking to the children, and using examples such as experiences, to bring the point across. Children were often taught through their own experiences, on the rights and wrongs under the guidance of the parents.

Prayers are very powerful and children hear, understand and learn this if the parents practice spirituality. Prayers will provide some guidance and direction in a very positive way for children. A family becomes strong, content and happy through prayers. (pp. 24-25)

The quality of family and community life of the Peigan Nation has been significantly altered since the signing of Treaty Number 7 in 1877. The signing "heralded an end to the traditional way of life that the Peigan Nation had enjoyed for centuries before the coming of the white man" (Pard, 1986, p. 85). As with other Bands, the actions of the dominant society since the late 1800s has impacted all facets of traditional lifestyle. The systems that were implemented on Reserves and for Native people broke down family units and systems as a process of de-culturalization. Hudson and McKenzie (1981) define these systems as "attempts at cultural colonialism." In substantiating this definition the authors state:

These efforts are designed to explain and legitimize actual control, and historical efforts designed to ‘civilize the

the savage’ reflect this tradition. The missionaries, the education system and the health system were all oriented toward objectives associated with cultural colonialism. (p. 65)

The children and families of the Peigan Nation were directly affected by the types of programs and policies imposed on the Reserve. The Old Victoria Home was opened in 1896. By the early 1900s two residential schools were opened on the Reserve. Children were also taken from the Reserve to places such as Dunbow School in Calgary. Members of the Peigan Nation who attended these schools vividly recall the events of the year spent in residence:

Education at the residential schools centered on domestic routines for the girls and agriculture for the boys. Elders noted that while removal from families was not desirable, this type of education assisted many people later in life.

The health and physical well-being of the Peigan Nation also suffered during this era. Flu epidemics, starvation, and pox-infested blankets significantly reduced the number of Band members to a few hundred. There is a feeling by some Band members that purposeful attempts were made to reduce the population.

During this era the movement of Band members were also restricted: "Permits were necessary in order to travel off the Reserve. This Canadian version of the ‘pass law’ wasn’t entirely eliminated until the 1950s." (Pard, 1986, p. 100). Those without papers were fined or went to jail.

Closure of the boarding schools in the early 1950s did not decrease the amount of intervention in child and family life. From an educational perspective, further intervention occurred with the placement of children off the Reserve for the purpose of attending school in the surrounding communities. Those who were involved in this process during the 1950s and 1960s recall that records were not kept as to where children were placed. The families receiving these children often changed the child’s last name to their own. Children from the Peigan Reserve also moved to new locations out of the area with these families. The difficulties encountered in obtaining an education in off Reserve schools under circumstances of poverty, prejudice and discrimination continue to be noted as factors in the relatively low percentage of persons completing high school or taking post secondary education.

(Graff, Joan, 1988, pp. 1- 3. Excerpts. Reprinted with permission from the University of Calgary Press.)

CKAP10 Elders’ Perspectives

Vocabulary

preordained  philosophical  mutual

compatible  conferring  prescriptive

intrusive  normative  embodies

interpersonal  intergenerational  deculturalization

The land we occupy is known to First Nations people as Turtle Island. The relationship of Aboriginal people to Turtle Island is governed by rules and principles formed in the distant past. Aboriginal people believe the Creator preordained how that relationship should be and provided the tools and the means to live a life that expresses that relationship. The nature of that relationship with the Creator, the natural world, the animal world and other human beings is described in Aboriginal languages, which are seen a gifts from the Creator. For thousands of years, each generation learned the lessons of Turtle Island from preceding generations. The ancient wisdom, the traditions, rituals, languages and cultural values were passed on and carried forward. In this process, a primary role was played by the Elders, the Old Ones, the Grandmothers and Grandfathers. As individuals especially knowledgeable and experienced in the culture, they were seen as those most closely in touch with the philosophical teachings of life lived in harmony with the Creator and creation.

Guided by the teachings of the Old Ones, the people survived and flourished. Great nations coexisted. Extensive

trade networks thrived. Alliances and confederacies formed for mutual interest, and complex international relationships emerged. Compatible attitudes toward the Creator and Mother Earth formed the basis of agreements among nations. Rules of conduct, whether in peace or in war, governed behaviour.

Then there came a great change. About 500 years ago, strangers from across the ocean sailed to this ancient land - Turtle Island - and called it ‘The New World’. To the newcomers, this was unexplored country. They knew little about the original inhabitants, whose footsteps had worn a patchwork of paths and trails across the continent. When eventually they did come to know the First Peoples, the newcomers understood little of their laws and customs and the values that underlay their relationship to Turtle Island:

The Great Land of the Inuit is the sea, the earth, the moon, the sun, the sky and stars. The land and the

The new arrivals had quite different beliefs and sought to promote their beliefs in the hope that the original inhabitants would come to see things their way. It did not happen. The Old Ones (continued) to teach the ancient wisdom about the way to live, how to relate to the Creator, and how to coexist with their brothers and sisters of the plant and animal world. The lessons of how the Creator intended people to live with one another persisted.

These teachings form part of the intellectual tradition of the Aboriginal nations of Canada. They are the foundation upon which an Aboriginal community is built. Aboriginal peoples’ understanding of their relationship to Canada and Canadian society is shaped by these teachings....

Elders are generally, although not exclusively, older members of the community. They have lived long and seen the seasons change many times. In many Aboriginal cultures, old age is seen as conferring characteristics not present in earlier years, including insight, wisdom and authority. Traditionally, those who reached old age were the counsellors, guides and resources for the ones still finding their way along life’s path. Elders were the ones who had already walked a great distance on this path and were qualified to advise based on their knowledge of life, tradition and experience....

Elders have special gifts. They are considered exceptionally wise in the ways of their culture and the teachings of the Great Spirit. They are recognized for their wisdom, their stability, and their ability to know what is appropriate in a particular situation. The community looks to them for guidance and sound judgement. They are caring and are known to share the fruits of their labours and experience with others in the community....

Elders are neither prescriptive nor intrusive in their teachings. They live their lives by example, according to the laws of the Creator. When asked in an appropriate manner, they offer their teachings. They will recount stories and legends that flow through their culture but will not impose their personal interpretations of the lessons to be drawn from them...

In the Métis Nation, the title ‘Senator’ is bestowed on individuals in recognition of their knowledge and insight. It carries many of the same connotations as the term Elder in First Nations cultures. In some Aboriginal societies Elders are called Grandmother and Grandfather, titles that acknowledge their role as teachers and wise ones. These familial designations also allude to the important role of Elders in raising children. Elders apply their spiritual understanding of relationships among the elements of creation to relationships within the family and the community...

17, November, 1992

Both Elders and parents had a role in rearing and teaching the children. We were taught to respect all our peers respect and obey the rules respect and knowledge for the life and ways of all the animals, killing only the mature and/or only what was required respect and knowledge of weather-related elements and the lay of the land. We learned to respect others, share with each other and care for one another ⁶ ...

Traditional wisdom is both content and process. It speaks of how things should be done as well as what should be done. It is normative. It embodies the values of the people in the lessons that are taught. What is right and appropriate can be found in the teachings.

The North American intellectual tradition is, for the most part, an oral one. This means that the transmission of knowledge is an interpersonal and, often, intergenerational process. All that must be remembered must be spoken aloud. The relationship between the speaker and the listener is a personal one. They share an experience. Each person hearing the stories of the past feels the pain, joins in the laughter, and relives the victories as part of his or her own experience. The past, present and future become one:

Cultures are dynamic, not static - they evolve, adapting to new conditions. But if their essence is not interfered with, they change in ways that leave the core values intact. They build on new knowledge and past achievements, but their foundation remains fundamentally sound. Aboriginal cultures have struggled to maintain their traditional values and knowledge despite aggressive external attempts to destroy cultural integrity.

The western intellectual tradition is perceived to be the standard by which knowledge is measured, the superior tradition. Western cultures have considered themselves more advanced (their societies being ‘nations’, for example, and Aboriginal societies, ‘tribes’). Simply stated, the western way is seen as the right way and if Aboriginal peoples are to advance and enter the modern world, they must abandon the North American intellectual tradition (categorized not as an intellectual tradition but as ‘ritual’, ‘magic’, ‘folkways’).

For most Aboriginal people, this deculturalization has been too great a price to pay for modernization. Moreover, it is an unnecessary sacrifice. A return to traditional values does not mean turning back the clock. Many people live their lives according to other great teachings and philosophies, some of which are thousands of years old. Elders are crucial if traditional knowledge and values are to become a source of strength and direction in the modern world:

Elders are the contemporary link to traditional knowledge. Elders are the keepers of the traditional culture. They know the teachings of the ancestors - the ceremonies, rituals and prophecies, the proper way to behave, the right time for things to happen, and the values that underlie all things. Elders are essential to the perpetuation and renewal of the traditional way of life.

(Canada. Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, 1993, pp. 108-118. Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples. Vol. 4. Perspectives and Realities. Ottawa, ON: Reprinted with permission from Canada Communications Group Publishing.)

CKAP11 Education

Vocabulary

assimilationist  indoctrinated  enominations  constitutional

negotiated  provisions  transmission  compelled

intergenerational  coercive  compulsory  predominated

integrating  watershed  unequivocal

The introduction of European-style education to Aboriginal people varied by geographical location, by the timing of contact, and by the specific history of relations between various peoples and Europeans. In some regions, schools operated by religious missions were introduced in the mid-1600s. In other locations, formal education came much later. But if there were many variations in the weave of history, a single pattern dominated the education of Aboriginal people, whatever their territorial and cultural origins. Formal education was, without apology, assimilationist. The primary purpose of formal education was to indoctrinate Aboriginal people into a Christian, European world view, thereby ‘civilizing’ them. Missionaries of various denominations played a role in this process, often supported by the state.

Under its constitutional responsibility for "Indians, and Land reserved for the Indians", the federal government enacted provisions in the Indian Act applying to the education of status Indians. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, the numbered treaties were signed, and tribal leaders negotiated education provisions as part of the treaties. In the provinces, the federal government gradually withdrew from funding the education of Aboriginal people not residing on reserves, but not without protests from some of the provinces, which were reluctant to assume these costs.

In carrying out its responsibilities for Indian education, the federal government turned to the churches, which shared the government’s goal of imparting Christian, European values. ... (In fact), residential schools were used deliberately to break down the transmission of culture and language from one generation to the next. For nearly a century, parents and grandparents in reserve communities were legally compelled to turn their children over to the custody of residential school authorities. Children were beaten for speaking their own language, and Aboriginal beliefs were labelled ‘pagan’. In many schools, sisters and brothers were forbidden social contact, and the warmth of the intergenerational Aboriginal family was replaced with sterile institutional child rearing. Many residents endured sexual and physical abuse. Hard labour and hunger were part of the experience of many children. Those who tried to run away were returned to be punished and rehabilitated. The effects of these coercive efforts at social engineering continue to be felt generations later. ...

From early contact, education for Métis people emphasized religious studies, with some basic arithmetic and writing. Métis people in some areas attended residential schools, and in the northwest, the sons of affluent Métis received the formal education of the privileged, often being sent to eastern Canada or England for higher education. Missionaries provided limited instruction to the children of Métis people who followed the migration of the buffalo. However, most Métis in rural and northern areas had little access to more than primary school until the 1950s. According to the report of Alberta’s Ewing Commission in 1936, 80 per cent of Métis children in the province had no schooling at all.²

Among Inuit, formal education in the north arrived at various times. In Labrador, the first school was begun by the Moravians in 1791. From the age of five years, children were taught to read and write in their own language. By the early 1800s, the New Testament and hymn books had been translated into Inuktitut and were used to teach children and adults alike. Christian Inuit were required to send their children to school, and by 1840 most Christian Inuit could read and write in Inuktitut.³ When Newfoundland joined Confederation in 1949, the language of instruction became English, eroding Inuktitut language use.

In other parts of northern Canada, formal schooling of Inuit began much later. Contrary to the experience of Inuit in Labrador, teaching in the local language was not commonplace elsewhere in the north. Inuit attended residential schools in some areas and missionary-run schools in others. In the 1950s, Inuit were encouraged to move into permanent settlements by making school attendance by children compulsory.⁴

With few exceptions, assimilationist education predominated in schools established under government or church authority. Although elementary day schools supported by the federal government continue to be a characteristic of schooling on-reserve, in the 1960s the federal government pursued a policy of integrating children from reserves into nearby provincial schools or boarding children with families in urban centres to attend high school. Also in the 1960s, provincial governments in the west formed large school districts in northern areas of their provinces with some Aboriginal representation. At the same time, a growing number of Aboriginal people moved from employment-starved rural areas into urban centres, expanding the number of Aboriginal students in city schools. Residential schools (continued) to operate into the 1970s.

In 1972 the National Indian Brotherhood (the forerunner to the Assembly of First Nations) produced a policy statement, "Indian Control of Indian Education," which marked a watershed in Aboriginal education. This statement sent a clear, unequivocal call for local control of education by First Nations communities and parents. It recognized the failure of federal, provincial and territorial governments to implement appropriate policies to address First Nations goals for education. From 1972 on, discussion between First Nations and the state shifted to restoring control of education in all its dimensions to First Nations parents and communities. Inuit and Métis people voiced similar concerns. ...

(Canada. Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples. Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples. Vol 3 Gathering Strength. (Ottawa: Supply and Services, 1996), pp. 434-436. Reproduced with the permission of the Minister of Public Works and Government Services, 2002, and Courtesy of the Privy Council Office.)

CKAP12 From Humble Beginnings: Indian Education now Flourishing in Saskatchewan

The story of Indian-controlled education in Saskatchewan is a relatively new one, having developed only in the last three decades.

Those close to the scene have worked tirelessly to create institutions and implement programs that responded to a 1972 policy paper entitled Indian Control of Indian Education that was penned by the National Indian Brotherhood.

The momentous report, which was presented to the Minister of Indian Affairs and Northern Development four days before Christmas in 1972, was a statement of the philosophy, goals, principles and directions that would form the foundation of any school programs for Indian children. The paper recognized a very different set of standards that Indian parents were demanding on behalf of their children. These principles were often in conflict with the mainstream educational systems of the day and proudly stated ideals that have always been a part of Indian tradition.

First and foremost was the notion that "each adult is personally responsible for each child, to see that he learns all he needs to know in order to live a good life." The statement of the Indian philosophy of education (continued): "As our fathers had a clear idea of what made a good man and a good life in their society, so we modern Indians want our children to learn that happiness and satisfaction come from pride in one’s self, understanding one’s fellowmen, and living in harmony with nature."

The report went on to identify certain values which have an honoured place in Indian tradition and culture. The authors of the policy paper, which utilized the skills of the National Indian Brotherhood’s Education Committee including Rodney Soonias of the Federation of Saskatchewan Indians (FSIN), knew that any fundamental revamping of the education system as it related to Indian students would have to include values "which make our people a great race, (ones) that are not written in any book." These ideals, the report noted, are found in Indian history in legends and in culture.

"We believe that if an Indian child is fully aware of the important Indian values he will have reason to be proud of our race and of himself as an Indian," the report stated. "When our children come to school they have already developed certain attitudes and habits which are based on experiences in the family. School programs, which are influenced by these values respect cultural priority and are an extension of the education which parents give children from their first years. These early lessons emphasize attitudes of self-reliance, respect for personal freedom, generosity, respect for nature and wisdom.

The National Indian Brotherhood observed that there are significant differences between Native people and "those who have chosen, often gladly, to join us as residents of this beautiful and bountiful country." In an effort to overcome these differences and misunderstanding, the Brotherhood took a conciliatory and respectful approach in offering this wise counsel. "It is essential that Canadian children of every racial origin have the opportunity during their school days to learn about the history, customs and culture of this country’s original inhabitants and first citizens. We propose that education authorities, especially those in Ministries of Education, should provide for this in the curricula and texts which are chosen for use in Canadian schools."

Against the backdrop of the Indian Control of Indian Education report, Indian leaders began the process of change. It was a task that proved to be frustrating as the system was prepared to transform itself only very slowly. New policies were met with open resistance by civil servants at many levels and Indian bands hoping to establish their own schools struggled to find funding.

The year 1974 is regarded as something of a breakthrough year in the area of Indian control of Indian education, particularly in Saskatchewan as several bands began to take charge of the education of their children. One of the highlights took place on the James Smith Reserve in northeast Saskatchewan where the community of 1,500 took the first steps in developing their own school system. The then-Chief Sol Sanderson, who later became a chief of the FSIN, is credited with doing much of the early work in creation of a new school on the reserve, one that would see the removal of Indian students from the nearby Kinistino school, a place that had not been meeting the academic needs of James Smith band students. It had also been the scene of an unfortunate, racially-motivated incident that had been dubbed the "great louse hunt" after Indian children were sent home after being humiliated by teachers and other students.

Clearly, this "whiteman’s school", with its high dropout rate among Native students and its oppressive environment, was no place for Indian children

With the overwhelming support of James Smith parents, the band council ordered the establishment of a makeshift school, which would accommodate 350 students. Under the direction of James Burns, the chairman of the James Smith school committee, a number of portable classroom units were constructed and an existing gymnasium was divided into three classrooms. Within weeks the facility was operational and almost overnight the dramatic change was being labeled a success.

In a January 1974 story in The Saskatchewan Indian, Burns commented on the new attitude that had emerged. Previously, the band’s school committee had spent much of its time attempting to settle beefs with the Kinistino School.

Suddenly it was not just only a committee that only listened to grievances, but a committee that could give direction to the band council and band members," Burns said. "It’s something that had never happened before".

Buoyed by its early success, the people of the reserve began planning for a new, permanent school, one that would reflect their values. For example, James Smith parents were displeased by the structure of the Kinistino school, which like most schools of its era, featured ringing bells and inflexible seating plans that controlled the lives of their children. Their new school, they determined, would be different.

When it opened in September of 1974, the school was different. There were 62 staff members and 43 were James Smith band members. Fifteen teachers’ aids were hired, all of them parents of children attending the new school. Notably, the teacher’s aids could speak Cree, an asset that enhanced the students’ comfort levels. Other innovative measures, such as a "contract" approach that would see a student undertake to achieve a specific educational objective and the development of courses that reflected local Cree history from an Indian perspective were introduced.

Meanwhile, as the 1970s moved into mid-decade, other positive events were happening in other parts of the province. In 1976, the Saskatchewan Indian Cultural College and the Saskatchewan Indian Federated College (SIFC) were officially opened. Chief Sol Sanderson again played an integral role in these developments. SIFC was created through an agreement between the FSIN and the University of Regina, which recognized SIFC as a federated college of the U. of R. From modest beginnings - a mere nine students were enrolled in 1976 - SIFC has grown to an annual enrolment of 1,300 students.

The late Ida Wasacase, a member of the Ochapowace First Nation, also played a key role in the establishment of SIFC, serving as its first director from 1976 until 1982. A recipient of the Order of Canada in 1982, Wasacase was internationally respected for her dedication to Indian education. She was also named the SIFC Outstanding Indian Educator of the Year in 1990.

Almost 30 years after the release of the National Indian Brotherhood’s Indian Control of Indian Education report, Indian educators and leaders have much to be proud of. But cautions Linda Pelly-Landrie, president of the Saskatchewan Indian Cultural Centre, there are many challenges yet to be met.

"We have come a long way in the last 28 years," she told a conference on First Nation education, sponsored by the FSIN and held in Saskatoon last month. "We have done many things properly and as a teacher, I’m not ashamed of what we’re doing badly. I’m proud that we’re doing as well as we have with the resources we’re given."

Pelly-Landrie said the pace of change has taken its toll on educators. "We are coping with change on such a scale, and of such rapidity, that we are now engaged in what I call whitewater teaching." She said. "We are paddling frantically through social rapids, trying to keep our kids and ourselves off the rocks."

Pelly-Landrie also sounded a warning for educators who may have lost sight of the vision that was front and center 30 years ago.

"We have moved too far left and have become white oriented. Our form of education has been to embrace the provincial system," said Pelly-Landrie. "We must relearn to trust ourselves."

"Customs, beliefs and language must be part of the school program with culture incorporated into the curriculum programs, she continued.

"Language and culture should be the basis for education. It is crucial for an awareness and understanding to take place as to how we want to incorporate these fundamental values in our education system."

As the authors of Indian Control of Indian Education determined in 1972, Pelly-Landrie Indian agrees educators must move out of the shadow of white educational structures that poorly serve Native students.

"For too long, we have depended on others to do things for us," she said. "We must learn to accept our own potential as First Nation people and demand that our needs be met based on an equal relationship.

"Being governed by others is no longer acceptable."

"And, just as the National Indian Brotherhood has opined almost 30 years ago, change must be undertaken in order for Indian controlled education to remain viable," Pelly-Landrie said.

"Perhaps our greatest challenge will be to clear the way for a new kind of school, and foster a learning that will arm our children to face and overcome anything that a chaotic future has in store."

(Goulding, Warren, June, 2001, pp. 1- 3. Reprinted with permission from Eagle Feather News.)

CKAP13 Settlement reached between Grollier Hall residential school students, church

YELLOWKNIFE, May 06, 2002 (The Canadian Press via COMTEX) -- A group of northern natives abused as children in a Catholic residential school have signed a historic out-of-court compensation deal with their church and the territorial

and federal governments.

The 28 former students of Grollier Hall in the Northwest Territories’ community of Inuvik announced Monday they had signed an agreement with the Catholic Diocese of MacKenzie, the N.W.T. and Ottawa to resolve their claims of physical

and sexual abuse.

Alvin Yallee, 45, the first victim to come forward, said he planned to use the settlement to go back to school to take business courses to help him run an oilfield company he is launching.

"I’m starting to turn my life around," said Yallee, a heavy-equipment operator from Tulita, N.W.T.

He said he hoped the settlement will encourage other victims to reach deals.

But he warned that it wasn’t easy.

"It has been a long, agonizing trail," he explained. "One of my friends said it is a road no one wanted to go down. (But) it’s time for other people to make that journey."

Federal officials say there are 10 other alternate dispute resolution programs under way involving about 600 abuse victims from residential schools across Canada.

In all, more than 9,000 former residential school residents have registered claims against the federal government for abuse at the schools.

The Grollier Hall deal - a pilot project initiated more than three years ago is the first of the alternate dispute resolution processes to be resolved. It comes in the wake of the federal government’s announcement last fall that it will pay 70 per cent of agreed-upon compensation.

Deputy Prime Minister John Manley praised the settlement.

"We now have a process which responds to the interests of survivors and taxpayers and one that maintains our relationship with churches."

Norman Yakeleya, coordinator of the Grollier Hall Healing Circle, said the process was like running a marathon, with many hurdles and pitfalls but also a lot of support along the way.

He said it was a test of courage and endurance to make it to the finish line.

"When you get there, it’s exhausting, but it’s overwhelming," he said. "It shows the perseverence (sic) of these men."

"The key to that deal was having the men participate in the process right from the start to the end. It is a very empowering process. That’s a big piece of their lives that’s been put back on track."

Although no financial details of the settlement were disclosed, church officials said the deal includes an apology from the bishop of the MacKenzie Diocese as well as training, education, healing circles and counselling.

"It’s a wide range of opportunities," said Father Jean Pochat. "Money was part of the settlement, but the biggest part was the healing."

The victims, sent to the church-run residential school by the federal government in the 1960s, were abused by four lay supervisors who have since been convicted in criminal courts.

Yallee’s abuser was sent to prison for 10 years.

Pochat said the key to the settlement was building up trust between the victims and the other parties. He said it helped that several of the victims knew him personally.

"Maybe the most important part was we worked in a non-hostile environment," he said. "We sat and talked to people."

He said the process has been tried unsuccessfully elsewhere because trust was missing between the parties.

"If you don’t establish a trust in the beginning, you’re dead," he explained. "You don’t go very far."

But Pochat said some of the victims will never get over the abuse they experienced as children.

"It’s a fact of life if you’re hurt bad," he said. "Their lives were messed up. You can have a normal life, but you can’t erase the trauma done."

Yallee, who was sexually assaulted along with his cousin at age 13, said he kept the abuse inside for 27 years until his cousin killed himself.

Although the pair were assaulted at the same time by the same man, they never spoke about it, even to each other.

"We were the closest of cousins, but we never talked about it," he said. "We were ashamed of what happened."

Driven by despair at his cousin’s death, he broke down and revealed the assault to a friend, who happened to be an RCMP officer.

He said that when he first came forward, he had no idea that he was not the only victim.

"I was totally shocked when I saw the end result that so many people that I knew that were related to me, that were sleeping in the same room in the dorm, that it happened to them," he said. "It was very painful for all those years."

(Canadian Press. May, 2000. Reprinted with permission from The Canadian Press.)

CKAP14 Métis Education

Vocabulary

articulated  instrumental  infrastructure  inception  liaison

multifaceted  practicum  accredited

The Gabriel Dumont Institute of Native Studies and Applied Research (GDI) is the educational arm of the Métis Society of Saskatchewan. It offers a wide range of educational training programs to the Métis people across the province. With its main office in Regina and sub-offices in Saskatoon and Prince Albert, GDI’s programs are delivered to Métis communities on a needs basis.

In 1992, GDI articulated its mission statement as follows: "To promote the renewal and development of Métis culture through appropriate research activities, material development, collection and distribution of those materials and the design, development and delivery of specific educational and cultural programs and services. Sufficient Métis people will be trained with the required skills, commitment and confidence to make the MSS [Métis Society of Saskatchewan] goal of Métis self-government a reality" (GDI 1992a).

GDI is governed by a board of governors comprised of six members, with four alternative members and an additional representative from the Métis Nation of Saskatchewan. The board members are identified by region, with two each representing the southern, central, and northern areas of the province. Members of the board are jointly appointed by the Métis Nation of Saskatchewan and the government of Saskatchewan.

GDI’s day-to-day operations are overseen by the executive director, the director of university programs, and the director of finance and administration. A research and development unit reports to the executive director. GDI is funded by a variety of agency sources, primarily the Core grant to cover operational costs and a SUNTEP (Saskatchewan Urban Native Teacher Education Program) grant from the province of Saskatchewan as well as from such sources as the Métis Pathways to Success Secretariat of the federal government, Métis regional management boards (RMBs,) and local management boards (LMBs).

GDI was formally incorporated as a non-profit corporation in 1980 to serve the educational needs of the Saskatchewan Métis and non-status Indian peoples. With more than a decade of experience in education and research, the institute has been instrumental in the development of technical infrastructure and the education of professional personnel for the Métis Nation.

As a completely Métis-directed educational and cultural establishment, GDI is unique in Canada.¹ At its inception, the institute focused on education through cultural research as [a] way of renewing and strengthening the heritage and achievement of Métis and non-status Indian peoples in Saskatchewan. It soon became apparent, however, that the institute would need to become more directly involved in education to fully serve the multifaceted needs, including the employment needs, of Métis communities.

As a result, GDI established a curriculum unit in order to pursue the development of curriculum and historical educational materials. The curriculum unit primarily focused on the development of teaching materials in Métis history and culture as well as other materials intended to increase awareness of Métis history and culture, including books, videos, CD-ROMs, audiotapes, and posters.

The Institute’s efforts to strengthen Métis education evolved into the establishment of the well-known SUNTEP program - a four-year teacher education program leading to a bachelor of education degree designed specifically for Métis students. In essence, SUNTEP trains Native teachers to meet the needs of Native students, and it has served as a model for Native adult education programs across Canada. In addition, GDI has succeeded in developing and delivering culturally relevant training and education programs in Métis communities across Saskatchewan. The programs are accredited and cover a wide range of areas, including business administration, law enforcement, human justice, health care, resource technology and management, recreation and early childhood education, and housing administration.

GDI programs have been designed with a number of special features. First, almost all GDI programs are community-based. This means that courses leading to diplomas are offered in towns and urban centres across Saskatchewan. Students can take courses and complete their education in their own communities instead of having to leave home to take courses on campuses of universities and colleges. In this way, students can maintain their cultural and political awareness within a bicultural and sometimes bilingual context. Second, most of the GDI programs offer a sixteen-week preparatory phase that includes academic upgrading related to specific programs. This enables students whose schooling has been interrupted or whose academic standing does not meet program admission requirements to gain access to diverse post-secondary studies. Third, GDI programs offer a strong Native studies component to enable students to grow in the knowledge and pride of their heritage and cultural identity. Fourth, GDI provides a comprehensive system of supports that gives students full access to individual and family counselling. Last, each of GDI’s programs includes, if at all possible, an applied practicum phase.

The development and support functions of GDI are carried out by three units: curriculum development, research and development, and library information services. Unfortunately, it has been very difficult to secure funding to carry out the very important tasks of research and development. When monies have been available, the research unit has been instrumental to the GDI and it membership in that it provides a wide range of services in the following areas: research and policy analysis, community needs surveying and assessment, program development and implementation, funding acquisition, short- and long-term strategic planning, and liaison and advisory services. Post-secondary educational programs that were developed and implemented by the research and development unit in past years have included Native human justice, Métis business administration, integrated resource management, health care administration, and Métis housing administration cooperative education programs. In recent years, the research and development unit has been greatly reduced due to funding limitations.

GDI has sought funding in order to undertake a wide spectrum of research issues that are important in Aboriginal communities and contemporary Canadian society. Notable projects accomplished in past years include a research project on literacy contracted by the federal department secretary of state (now Heritage Canada) entitled "Literacy for Métis and Non-Status Indian Peoples: National Strategy" (GDI 1991) a social economic assessment of uranium mining projects in northern Saskatchewan entitled "Positions and Concerns for the Proposed Uranium Mining Projects in Saskatchewan: A Position Paper" (GDI 1992b) and a major province-wide study for the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (RCAP) on the topic of Saskatchewan Métis family literacy and youth education (Yang 1993). Again, like its development function, GDI’s research services depend upon securing external funding.

The GDI library was established in May 1980 in Regina, and it contains a remarkable collection of uncatalogued materials on Aboriginal rights and Métis history as well as published books and journals. The collection covers a wide variety of materials, including the political, social, and economic history of Indian and Métis peoples documented from British colonial records, Hudson’s Bay Company records, the Selkirk Papers, and Canadian government records and transcripts. The GDI library information services have been instrumental in fulfilling the institute’s goal of providing resource services for students, staff, and community. The GDI library information services are provided through two major locations - Regina and Prince Albert - to support the institute’s educational, training, curriculum, research, and other program initiatives in various program delivery locations.

GDI serves 800 to 1,000 adult students each year and also oversees the Dumont Technical Institute, which is federated with the Saskatchewan Institute of Applied Sciences and Technology (SIAST). Gabriel Dumont College, affiliated with the University of Saskatchewan, was established in 1995. The majority of the GDI student population is of Métis origin. In 1992, 126 students successfully completed their course requirements and graduated with SUNTEP degrees (certificates or diplomas in the case of other programs). Between 1980, when it was initiated, and 1990, SUNTEP graduated 370 students, 80 percent of whom were female.

The profile of academic and vocational programs offered by GDI changes annually, so any one year provides only a snapshot of GDI programs at a fixed point in time. In its 1995 and 1996 annual report, GDI reported SUNTEP and a Métis social work program in Cumberland House as its university programs. In addition, it delivered Métis management and entrepreneurship programs at a number of locations.

The same year, the Dumont Technical Institute offered programs in adult basic education, youth care worker training, General Equivalency Diploma preparation, introduction to office management, business administration, micro computer repairs, computer applications, truck driver training, heavy equipment operator training, and a gambling addiction workshop.

Saskatchewan Urban Native Teacher Education Program (SUNTEP)

SUNTEP is a four-year program offered by GDI, designed specifically for Métis students, and leading to a bachelor of education degree. It is one of the family of Indian Teacher Education Programs (ITEPs) dedicated to preparing Aboriginal teachers to meet the unique needs of Aboriginal communities. Since it inception, its special educational purpose and unique features have drawn substantial attention from the research community. Some research has gone into exploring a number of issues related to SUNTEP education, including special requirements of SUNTEP programming, factors influencing students’ persistence in the SUNTEP program, elements of peer support among SUNTEP students, and comparison of the differences and similarities between SUNTEP and other Aboriginal teacher education programs. The research on SUNTEP constitutes one of the few research collections focused on Métis education, and it makes a very important contribution to our knowledge of Métis education.

(Castello, Marlene Brant, Lynne Davis and Louise Lahache, 2000, pp. 179-182. Reprinted with permission from UBC Press.)

CKAP15 Traditional Knowledge

Vocabulary

exigencies  innate  affiliation  credo

exploitation sanctity subsumed  commodity

secular  stewardship pristine  unidimensional

In the Western view land is lifeless, a commodity to be bought and sold, an economic resource, an inert landscape to be shaped to the need and will of those who own it. The word "sacred" has no meaning or place in the modern Western concept of land. Rather, land is "real estate", territories, counties, states, and nations. All such concepts and entities are defined through the legal, intellectual, political, and cultural exigencies of Western society, which long ago replaced innate affiliation for places with a social intellectual credo of scientific and social progress based on the exploitation of land and resources for economic gain. The existence of an inherent sanctity of the land became the stuff of fairy tales and "primitive" Native peoples. Although many Westerners declare they love their land, their feeling for the mythic and spiritual qualities of the land have become subsumed by the modern conditioning of land as a commodity.

Meanwhile, however, the notion of land as sacred has lived on in the secular notions of conservation and stewardship. After the U.S. West was "won" in the late 1800s, a few enlightened Westerners such as John Muir began to lobby publicly for the protection of certain pristine tracts of land such as Yellowstone by setting them aside as national parks. This was the beginning of the conservation movement in the United States.

The Earth and the places on it have a story and a language through which that story may be told and remembered. Native peoples through long experience and participation with their landscapes have come to know the language of their places. In learning this language of the subtle signs, qualities, cycles, and patterns of their immediate environments and communicating their landscapes, Native people also come to know intimately the "nature" of the places which they inhabit. Learning the language of the place and the "dialects" of its plants, animals, and natural phenomena in the context of "homeland" is an underlying foundation of Native science.

Metaphorically, learning the language of place and using that language to talk that place into being in both individual and collective consciousness of the community is one of the essential functions of Native languages. It is for this reason that Native languages are predominantly verb based and are filled with metaphors about nature that celebrate and remember participation and relationship and make up the body of Native song, prayer, and everyday conversation. Native identity and hence Native science are wrapped in a blanket of the place that has formed Native tribal life through the generations. Indeed, it may be said that Native cultures are the earth, air, fire, water, and spirit of the place from which they evolved. "From this attitude of respect, gratitude and humility, aboriginal people have acquired an understanding of their ‘relatives’ that is far more extensive than the unidimensional kind of information that is gleaned by scientists."

(Cajete, Gregory, 2000, pp. 282-284. Reprinted with permission from Clear Light Publishers.)

CKAP16 Cree Family Life

Vocabulary

weaned  supplication  merit protege

elliptical  bosses  apex

Childhood:

The period during which children were nursed varied. Some women weaned their babies when they were about a year old others keep them at the breast much longer. When a child was weaned, it was given a tough piece of meat to suck and put to sleep with a woman who was not its mother. The woman slept with a paunch full of soup next to her body. When the child awoke, she fed it the warm soup with a mussel shell spoon.

A broth made of the scrapings from a buffalo hide was the first non-milk food given to infants. Later, a soup made of blood and berries was fed to the child. Mothers also chewed meat and vegetable foods thoroughly and placed them in their babies’ mouths.

Lullabies had distinctive melodies and were usually sung to nonsense syllables.

As soon as a child was able to run about, a navel cord bag was tied around its neck so that it hung down the back. The bag, finely decorated with beads and quills, was about four inches long. It had two compartments in one the cord was stored, the other was filled with tobacco. An old man or woman might call the child and take a pipeful of tobacco from the bag. Before the old person smoked the pipe, he would offer it to his spirit helpers and ask them to grant good fortune to the child. In this way the parents assured a continual round of supplication for their child. Not all boys and girls wore these bags for only the wealthy could afford to keep them filled with tobacco. When the child reached puberty, the bag was discarded. Boys abandoned it in the woods when on a hunting trip girls laid it on the ground when they went out to collect firewood.

Children were never beaten and rarely reprimanded. One informant related that as a child he habitually threw himself on his back and yelled if he disliked his food. The habit was broken when his parents placed a vessel full of water behind him. As he went over on his back, he got wet and when everyone laughed he also laughed.

Children spent a great deal of time with their grandparents and relatively little with their parents who were preoccupied with adult tasks and cares. Once, in telling how the souls of the dead sometimes visit the earth, Fine-day incidentally said, "The old people come back to see their children and especially their grandchildren for the Cree love their grandchildren even more than their own children." When asked for an explanation, he replied, "When a person grows old he has more time to spend with the children and so grows very fond of them."

Sex knowledge was not formally imparted, but was acquired by boys and girls largely through observation and the talk of their contemporaries.

A boy often attached himself to a young man who was a good hunter and a brave warrior. The two were constant companions and called each other, NIWITCEWAHAKAN, "he with whom I go about." The young man taught the boy how to hunt and fight and was proud of his protege, since the boy’s attentions symbolized his own merit.

When there was a large encampment, boys of different bands would play together and become close friends. When camp was broken, one of the boys might go off with his friend’s family. After a time the two would go to live with the other household. The boys exchanged gifts and each received many things from the other’s parents. If one died, the parents of the surviving boy sent him to live with the parent of his deceased friend for a while. The boy considered both households equally his own.

Housing

The primary dwelling was the hide-covered tipi, constructed on a three-pole foundation. In setting up the tipi, three poles were laid on the ground and lashed together. The poles were raised and the legs of the tripod extended. The rawhide line, which tied the poles, hung down and was staked to the ground inside the tipi. Upon this base thirteen poles were laid in counter-clockwise order. The total number of poles in the tipi frame varied with the size of the structure.

The cover was hoisted by being lashed to the last pole placed in position. It was drawn around the frame and pinned together between the door poles with peeled wooden pegs. Thongs were lashed across the door poles at a height of about five and seven feet to make footrests for fastening the upper part of the cover.

The pegs for fastening the cover above and below the doorway were about eighteen inches long, peeled of bark except for a section four inches wide near one side. The left edge of the cover had two holes to receive the pin. The pin was slipped into place in such a manner that from the outside of the tipi only the four-inch ring of bark was visible.

After the cover had been pinned together, the woman went inside and shoved the tipi poles out until the cover was tight. The bottom of the cover was fastened to the ground by driving short wooden pegs through eyelets in the cover itself, or through looped thongs fastened to it.

The doorway was an elliptical opening covered by a flap. The door flap was hung from two thongs fastened to the outside of the cover immediately above the door opening. It was made of hide stretched over the U-shaped willow frame. Two beaded bosses often covered the place where the door hangers were attached to the tipi cover.

The smoke-hole at the apex of the tipi was flanked by two projections of the cover, the tipi "ears." A pole was inserted in a hole in each "ear" and was shifted about to regulate the size and shape of the smoke-hole, and, consequently, a draft within the dwelling.

Twelve to twenty buffalo hides were used for a cover. An old woman skilled in cutting covers measured the hides and cut them to the proper shape. Then a feast was prepared and all the women of the camp were invited to partake. After they had eaten, they were assigned to be at various places on the cover. A bone awl was used to punch holes through which sinew thread was drawn. The ends of the sinew were not clipped, even if a piece ten inches longs protruded. It was believed that the occupants of the dwelling would become mean and stingy if the threads were trimmed. The seams on which the hair had been were outermost when the tipi was set up. When the sewing was completed, the cover was spread out and the seams flattened with awls.

Women made the tipi, set it up, owned it. Therefore, a man had to get his wife’s consent to have a picture of his spirit helper drawn on the tipi cover. A back wall of buffalo hide, similar to that used by the Siksika, lined the sides of the tipi. Hair was stuffed between this screen and the tipi cover, providing insulation in winter and preventing drafts. In summer the bottom of the cover was rolled up on the poles to a height of about two feet from the ground. Ten or twelve people usually lived in a single tipi. The fireplace was in the centre, the place of honour being behind the fire, opposite the door.

(Mandelbaum, David G., 1979 pp. 87- 89, 142- 145. Reprinted with permission from Canadian Plains Research Centre.)

CKAP17 The Extended Family of the Plains Peoples

The strongest commonly held obligation was to one’s relatives, and family ties tend to emphasize the integrated nature of plains peoples’ social life. A close family, always camping together and occupying several tipis, might include grandparents and great-grandparents, unmarried brothers and sisters, parents and children possibly totalling thirty or more individuals, each of whom had a mutually supportive role.

Elderly members could be cared for, the horse travois making the practice of abandonment unnecessary, and their knowledge and experience made them invaluable advisors to the young. A boy gained his first experience of hunting small game close to the camp under the tutelage of his grandfather, who also made him his first bow and arrows and taught him about the myths and ceremonies while grandmothers spent much of their time with the girls, beading dresses for buckskin dolls, making play tipis, and helping the mother instruct her daughter in the art of dressing and tanning animal skins. Like grandparents everywhere they spoiled the children, and there was a particularly close bond of affection between these generations.

Supplying meat and protection was the duty of the men, and their wives were responsible for the household and moving camp. In fact, men had little say in matters concerning the home: the woman owned the tipi, household furniture such as buffalo-robe bedding and backrests made from peeled willow rods, as well as the kettle and tripod used in cooking the parfleche containers of dried meat were hers, as was any meat her husband secured while hunting. Women walked a few paces behind the men when together in public, and men wore the more elaborate and colourful costume, sat in council, became chiefs, and boasted of their sexual conquests, however, women ruled the tipis and wielded considerable behind-the-scenes influence in any major band decisions. In some nations, where residence was matrilocal, the family living with the wife’s band and family, it was the man’s direct responsibility to support his wife’s relatives rather than his own.

Even in patrilocal societies, families living with the husband’s band and relatives, marriage extended obligations to other families with whom there was an interdependent relationship that was maintained through gift exchanges and mutual assistance. This began when marriages were validated by an exchange of goods, which were distributed among the respective relatives, but could continue for several generations as a marriage was often considered to be a union between families rather than individuals and might be arranged for this purpose.

Many marriages, however, were romantic ones and folklore is full of references: to girls secretly making moccasins for the youths of their choice to men wrapping themselves in borrowed robes or blankets to conceal their identities while courting from fear the parents would reject their advances to visits of youthful warriors to girls’ tipis when the families were asleep to love flutes and charms, elopements and to Siksika couples going ‘berry picking’ together.

A general belief that it was ‘good to get more relatives’ endorsed the concept of the extended family. It made a number of hunters available and in the event of their making a large kill, there were several women to prepare the meat and hides. This type of organization, in which the relatives acted together as an economic unit, was essential on the Plains where resources were plentiful in summer and autumn but scarce in winter it was imperative that there was a large group of people with definite responsibilities who could pool their skills. Also, children could be adequately provided for, should something happen to their parents and rarely did anyone, through age, illness or misfortune, find themselves in the position of having no close relation to turn to for assistance.

The obligations of family and relatives were clearly defined and constantly reiterated, often by reference to the spiritual powers that guided actions and ultimately controlled destiny. Taboos observed by a woman during pregnancy--such as refraining from certain ‘harmful’ foods and not sitting with her back to the sun, the Life-giver--protected her unborn child and brought spiritual assistance not only for a long, healthy life but for one that would be lived ‘the right way’ in harmony with the environment, the Sacred Powers, and with his or her fellows.

CKAP18 Family (Maria Campbell)

I should tell you about our home now before I go any further. We lived in a large two-roomed hewed log house that stood out from the others because it was too big to be called a shack. One room was used for sleeping and all of us children shared it with our parents. There were three big beds made from poles with rawhide interlacing. The mattresses were canvas bags filled with fresh hay twice a year. Over my parents’ bed was a hammock where you could always find a baby. An air-tight heater warmed the room in the winter. Our clothes hung from pegs or were folded on the floor, and in one corner a special sleeping rug where Cheechum slept when she stayed with us, as she refused to sleep on a bed or eat off a table.

I loved that corner of the house and would find any excuse possible to sleep with her. There was a special smell that comforted me when I was hurt or afraid. Also, it was a great place to find all sorts of wonderful things that Cheechum had - little pouches, boxes, and cloth tied up containing pieces of bright cloth, beads, leather, jewelry, roots and herbs, candy, and whatever else a little girl’s heart could desire.

The kitchen and living room were combined into one of the most beautiful rooms I have ever known. Our kitchen had a huge black wood stove for cooking and for heating the house. On the wall hung pots, pans and various roots and herbs used for cooking and making medicine. There was a large table, two chairs and two benches made from wide planks, which we scrubbed with homemade lye soap after each meal. On one wall were shelves for our good dishes and a cupboard for storing everyday tin plates, cups and food.

The living-room area had a homemade chesterfield and chair of carved wood and woven rawhide, a couple of rocking chairs painted red, and an old steamer trunk by the east window. The floor was made of wide planks which were scoured to an even whiteness all over. We made braided rugs during the winter months from old rags, although it often took us a full year to gather enough for even a small rug.

There were open beams on the ceiling and under these ran four long poles the length of the house. The poles served as racks where furs were hung to dry in winter. On a cold winter night the smell of moose stew simmering on the stove blended with the wild smell of the drying skins of mink, weasels and squirrels, and the spicy herbs and roots hanging from the walls. Daddy would be busy in the corner, brushing fur until it shone and glistened, while Mom bustled around the stove. Cheechum would be on the floor smoking her clay pipe and the small ones would roll and fight around her like puppies. I can see it all so vividly it seems like only yesterday.

Our parents spent a great deal of time with us, and not just our parents but the other parents in our settlement. They taught us to dance and to make music on the guitars and fiddles. They played cards with us, they would take us on long walks and teach us how to use the different herbs, roots and barks. We were taught to weave baskets from the red willow, and while we did these things together we were told the stories of our people - who they were, where they came from, and what they had done. Many were legends handed down from father to son. Many of them had a lesson but mostly they were fun stories about funny people.

(Campbell, Maria, 1973, pp. 16-17, Excerpts. Reprinted with permission from Formac Publishing Company Ltd.)

CKAP19 The Traditional life - Social Organization (Inuit)

The Inuit lived in small communities numbering several households. During a lifetime an Inuk might encounter a few hundred people. Most of these would be relatives of one kind or another. Relatives were obliged to share with each other. So the more relatives you had, the better your chances of survival. Virtually everyone became a relative and was subject to the same bonds, expectations and obligations as blood relatives.

The basic unit of Inuit society was the family. A household might consist of a wife and husband, unmarried children, an adopted child, and maybe someone’s widowed mother or a widowed sister. The oldest active male was the family spokesman.

A cluster of several households of related people formed the next unit, the hunting group. Within this group there was no single leader, and decisions were made by consensus. But different leaders would emerge with a number of specific skills, such as navigating during a storm or locating a caribou herd. The size of the hunting community depended on the resources of the area if there were plenty of game or meat, the groups could contain six to 10 families. When food was scarce this hunting group would break into smaller camps.

The overall regional community, consisting of various scattered hunting groups, made up the outer limits of kinship bonds. As households or individuals moved around on the land, they could rely on the help of relatives in the other hunting communities who were part of the same overall regional community.

Today Inuit live in 28 small communities throughout Nunavut. The home environment is climate controlled. The Government provides housing, health care, education, employment opportunities and social services. The government support system attached to centralization and urbanization has meant that family size is not dependent on the physical environment. Societal relationships are not as highly correlated to survival. The social safety net means Inuit can live in larger communities, such as Iqaluit where 4,000-5,000 people reside permanently in a small municipal area.

The Family: Rules of Kinship

While kinship usually applies to people related either by blood or marriage, the Inuit extended this term to include friends, neighbors and associates. By certain rituals these individuals all became one’s relatives.

A common way to unite families in Inuit or any other society is through marriage. Another rite practised in traditional Inuit society was child betrothal parents customarily pledged their children to a future marriage. This drew the parents of the betrothed children into a kinship alliance, even if the marriage never took place.

Today Inuit life is very different. Schools throughout Nunavut teach Canadian curriculum from K-12, with aspects of cultural immersion and inclusion. Inuit children today spend as much time in front of computers and cable television, as children anywhere in Canada. By December, 2000, every Nunavut community will have a local internet server and Inuit children will be connected to the world wide web.

Education

Education took place within the family and the community circle. By constant exposure to their parents and other adults in the community, children learned all they needed to live successfully.

The Inuit of old did not have a written language, so skills and knowledge were passed down by word of mouth. After a successful hunt, for example, the details would be shared with the community. The children, boys in particular, listened to reports of the hunters’ latest venture and learned from them. The hunters would describe in detail the location where they spotted the animal. They would give elaborate accounts of the animal’s behaviour and how they responded to that behaviour. Besides listening to the hunters’ stories, the children enacted their own hunts by watching animals and observing their behaviour. They also tried to stalk animals, which required great patience.

But being patient was part of life and children learned this too. If a family was confined to the igloo because of a storm, children entertained themselves. After all, bad weather or sickness couldn’t be controlled: one simply learned to live with it.

Waiting was a part of life. Ajurnamat, the people would say: "it can’t be helped." Another important aspect of children’s education was learning to orient themselves in their surroundings. Children learned from an early age to memorize the landscape.

In traditional Inuit society there were no laws as we know them today. Taboos and rituals, however, did restrict behaviour. Fear of criticism and rejection were two strong forces that controlled people’s actions.

Today, Inuit attend elementary schools and high school, and are subject to federal and territorial laws which are administered in every Nunavut community by the RCMP and municipal by-law officers. There are also restrictions and licences required for the handling of firearms and the hunting of animals, monitored by the Nunavut government’s renewable resource officers. Many Inuit today can read and write both English and Inuktitut, and much of their oral history has now been written down and documented.

The life of the Inuit was not all hard work. As long as there was plenty of food and no immediate chores to be done, or when a severe winter storm kept everyone house-bound, there was time to indulge in pastimes.

One pastime the Inuit children enjoyed was games. Children spent a lot of time outside playing tag or hide and seek or pretending to hunt. But there were other games for the young and old during the long, dark winter months, when there was little else to do. During winter, families were often restricted to their small igloos. Games served to break the monotony and acted as a release for pent-up energy and emotions. Since it was considered disgraceful to show open hostility, games became a safe outlet for such feelings.

Games were also geared to enhance societal values. Feats of strength such as wrestling kept men in good physical shape. Other games such as arm-pulling tested men’s endurance. The high-kick tested one’s agility. In every aspect of the Inuit culture high value was placed on group achievement rather than self-achievement, and games were no exception. Grudges were never held against the winner, for the winner ultimately was responsible for the well-being of the loser.

A toy called an ajagaak was played to sharpen the senses. It consisted of a small pointed bone attached by sinew to a larger bone with a hole in the middle. Holding the bone spindle, the player would swing the larger piece and attempt to jab the spindle through the hole in the center.

While some pastimes were tests of physical endurance, others tested the mind. One such game was cat’s cradle, which encouraged innovative thinking. A round of sinew was stretched between the players two hands. The participants fingers were used to form a series of loops that resembled, for example, animal shapes. The person creating the most shapes which no one could duplicate was the winner.

The Inuit were also great storytellers. Some stories were accounts of the latest hunt. But the Inuit also maintained a large repertoire of legends, many of which their society’s values and stimulated the imagination. Numerous stories traditionally told by the Inuit show the close relationship between nature and the people. Some stories are morality tales about truthfulness, unselfishness and other desirable traits.

Today Inuit enjoy volleyball, basketball, badminton, ice hockey, and curling. Most communities have a school gym, a community hall and an ice hockey rink with one or two sheets of curling ice available. During the long winters various tournaments are held and people often travel from neighboring communities to compete in a variety of sports. Athletes battle not just for their own prestige, but for their home community, and the competition can be quite intense. Inuit also celebrate Christmas, Easter and Halloween, among other occasions. Many Inuit children have computer games at home as well as Nintendo 64, Gameboy and Sega. The long winters and often adverse weather encourage stay-at-home activities. The advent of satellite technology has introduced cable television, and internet service in Nunavut through an array of community satellite dishes.

Music Singing and Dancing

The drum dance combined music, song, dance and story. It was performed by an individual or by a group,

depending on the custom of the area. In the eastern arctic the drum (made of animal skin) could be a meter in diameter. It was held in one hand, with the wrist rotating the drum back and forth. As the drum was rotated, its rim was hit with a stick held in the other hand. The drum dancer, who could also be the drummer, moved rhythmically, acting out the imagery of the accompanying song, usually a personal story. Women in many northern communities, particularly in the eastern and central arctic practiced a form of singing called throat singing. Two women facing each other made guttural and resonant sounds through voice manipulation and breathing techniques. Often, the resulting sounds imitated the sounds of the north - the northern lights, the seashore, the wind - and evoked similar images. Some Inuit created sounds from a goose feather similar to those produce by a juice harp.

Today Inuit enjoy community feasts and dances. Drum dances are still common in many Nunavut communities, as are electric guitars and rock and roll bands. Music CD’s and music channels on television have introduced the latest pop music groups from around the world to the Inuit culture. While throat singing and traditional dance are practiced by the older Inuit, the younger generation prefer more contemporary styles of music.

(Cahill, Charlie, 2001, CDROM. Reproduced with permission from Central Arctic Management Ltd. website: www.huskydog.com)

CKAP20 Child-rearing (Inuit)

How We Were Raised

Inuit don’t like to eat alone. We call people to our homes and we all eat together. It feels much better to share the food. When a person had a successful hunt he would call everyone to share the food. This also happened when a child first caught something. The family would cut it into small pieces and call everyone to share it. This made the child very proud. When I caught my first snow goose, everyone was very happy. They celebrated by tearing into pieces to share with everyone. The pieces were so small there was almost nothing of the goose. But everyone got something.

Once my friends and I were playing far from camp. We caught and killed some baby geese. We brought them back to show everyone. We were proud that we had killed something like hunters. My parents did not get angry but they explained that when we got big we could catch birds to eat but we must not hurt the little ones. We understood that we must never kill something unless we needed to.

My parents were never angry with me. Anger and impatience were the worst things for Inuit. It was dangerous to behave that way on the land. If you lost your reason you could have an accident or get lost. It was also dangerous in the igloo. The people had to live closely together for long periods of time. They needed to get along with each other.

Inuit parents believed that if they acted with anger, the child would turn away and act with anger. If they spoke with respect, the child would learn respect.

We did not ask questions. To ask a question was considered rude. We waited to find things out. We learned by being quiet and watching. This is still true even as adults.

Sometimes someone might tell a person how to do something but no one gave an order unless it was very serious. When decisions had to be made, we would talk together until we agreed. We did not boss each other around - we did not have bosses. We were all families living together.

(Tookoome, Simon and Sheldon Oberman, 1999, 18-19. Reprinted with permission from Stoddart Kids© .)

CKAP21 A Society of Sharing (Dene)

Survival in the subarctic climates of Northern Canada required a great deal of communication, cooperation, and commitment toward the common good. Dene peoples created strong communal societies composed of large extended families who worked together as a socio-economic unit. Everyone from the smallest child to the oldest grandmother contributed to the group’s survival:

Young children were proud to assist the clan by finding fire wood, picking berries, helping in food preparation or hauling the group’s belongings. Dene Elders participated in child-rearing, parental guidance, and the preparation of young people’s entrance into the adult world. Their knowledge of the land, and workings of nature, and the traditions of their forefathers were valued by all community members. Especially gifted Elders often became the medicine people, storytellers, and prophets of their generation. In the process, they played central roles in the transmission of traditional knowledge and assisted greatly in cultural renewal.

Women, united and strengthened by matriarchal clan systems, contributed greatly to the harmony of this communal society. Strong bonds of friendship and understanding were created by their daily participation in shared work activities. Women shared the responsibilities of child rearing, communal meals, sewing clothing and tents, making fish nets and preparing hides:

Just as work was shared, a fundamental principle which guided Dene society was the concept of sharing responsibilities for the hunt and the products of its outcome. Many Elders expressed deep regret for the loss of this aspect of Aboriginal society:

Men formed hunting societies which were critical to the clan survival. Those especially gifted hunters and warriors who possessed good judgment became the leaders of the communal society. Their ability to provide for others was honoured, and it wasn’t uncommon for these men to maintain several wives and family members. As every man required a wife, this was a natural outcome in a society of caring and sharing:

(Cautu, Phillip R. and Lorraine Hoffman- Mercredi,1999, pp. 63- 65. Reprinted with permission from Thunderwoman Ethnographics.)

CKAP22 Suggested Research Resources

Barkwell, Lawrence J., Dorion, Leah, and Préfontaine, Darren, R. (2000) Metis Legacy, Co-published by Louis Riel Institute, and Gabriel Dumont Institute of Métis Studies and Applied Research. Pemmican Publications: Winnipeg, Manitoba.

Campbell, Maria. (1983). People of the Buffalo. Vancouver, BC: Douglas & McIntyre Vancouver.

Coutu, Phillip R. and Hoffman-Mercredi, Lorraine. (1999). Inkonze: The Stones of Traditional Knowledge. Edmonton, AB: Thunderwoman Ethnographics.

Dempsey, James L. (1999). Warriors of the King, Regina, SK: Canadian Plains Research Centre, University of Regina.

Dickason, Olive Patricia, (1992). Canada’s First Nations, Toronto, ON: McClelland & Stewart Inc.

Harrison, Julia D., (1985). Metis, Edmonton, AB: The Glenbow-Alberta Institute.

Jenish, D’Arcy, (1999). Indian Fall, Penguin Books

Steckley, John H. and Cummins, Bryan D., (2001). Full Circle, Toronto, ON: Pearson Education Canada Inc

Van Kirk, Sylvia, (1980). "Many Tender Ties" Women in Fur-Trade Society, 1670-1870. Winnipeg, MN: Watson & Dwyer Publishing Ltd.

CKAP23 Stories by Marie Osecap

When I was young, the people on the Sweetgrass Reserve used to organize rabbit hunts. These hunts were unique. It was done by many people, men, women, children and dogs.

A long, narrow bush was selected. Snares were hung along one end of the bush. The men and children would then come marching from the other end of the bush and scare the rabbits toward the snares, where the women waited.

Some of the men and boys carried bows and arrows. A few rabbits were shot before the snares were reached. Some of the rabbits would then be caught in the snares, where the women would tap them on the head and take them off the snares. The snares would then be reset, and the whole procedure repeated. The men and boys would be heard shouting war cries as they chased rabbits toward the snares. The rabbits were then skinned, and the hide was stretched. They would later be made into warm blankets. Bit pots of rabbit meat were cooked over a camp fire. It seemed in those days we were always hungry for meat. The rabbits not cooked were hung on racks over the campfire to smoke and dry. The skins from rabbits killed in the summertime did not make as warm a blanket.

When the mating season arrived for prairie chickens, the people would snare them in great numbers on their mating grounds. The person snaring prairie chickens would cut young willows, perhaps two feet long, and a shade over half an inch thick. He would cut as many of these as he had snares to set. The he would sharpen both ends of these willows. The willows would then be bent into a U-shape, with sharpened ends six or seven inches apart. It was then pushed into the ground, leaving a half circle around the ground. Rows and rows of these were pushed into the ground, and snares hung on them. The mating prairie chickens would be caught in these snares in great numbers. The feathers were used for pillow making and for making feather mattresses.

One day, my mother and Fine-Day’s wife, Ton-Toh, my sister, and I, climbed Drumming Hill. We walked south, on the west bank of Drumming Creek. We walked and walked. After walking south a long way, we went to another creek. This creek is not far from where the Gallivan store is now.

Below a bank beside this creak grew many maple trees. With these maple trees grew many wild rhubarb. After a lunch and a good rest, we cut the rhubarb, putting it in neat piles. Then we tied it up in four bundles and headed for home, each of us carrying one bundle. It was a long way home. We were good workers then.

Today, I don’t think the young people know what wild rhubarb is. Nowadays, they do not care to eat things like that. Wild rhubarb was very good when added to soup. It was first peeled, then cut up in short lengths, then added to the soup and boiled for a while. It was very delicious.

It was hard work and we rested many times before reaching home. When we arrived with the rhubarb, we passed it around, as was the custom in those days. People were many and only a little could be given to each family, but they were pleased and happy with what we gave them. Today, when I think back, I am amazed that we were such good walkers. Nobody walks today. We dug many wild turnips and wild onions, and we did it all by walking. Both grew in profusion on the side of Drumming Hill. They were free for the taking and we did not hesitate picking what we could.

Gophers were hunted in much the same manner as rabbits. "We are going on a gopher hunt," someone would say. I was into everything when I was young. I went along on these gopher hunts. We would go back to the east of our camp. Below was a big flat beside the creek this is where we would go to hunt gophers. It was toward Battleford, and it was a long, long ways away. We would walk over there, carrying the things we would need on our backs. We would carry pots and pans, cups and plates, knives and forks. We would also make traps for the gophers, and big pails for drowning the gopher. We would kill many gophers and they were fat.

Not so long ago I had an occasion to pass by this place where we used to hunt gophers. The land is now like a slough. It has changed. We cleaned and cooked the gophers over there, right where we had killed them. Then we would all have a big meal and we all enjoyed it. We would then kill more and clean them so we could take them home for the people who weren’t able to come with us on the hunt.

Then toward evening we would start for home, carrying our traps and pails and other things, beside the gophers. There was just one road at the time to Battleford, and we used this road when we hunted gophers.

It was a long walk over there and back. The people were very good at walking in those days

Duck hunting was also a much looked forward to event in those days. A duck hunt would be organized in early summer when the baby ducks were big, but not big enough to fly. The women would wade in the water, walking abreast, scaring the young ducks onto dry land. The men would grab them and wring their necks. The women would catch some in the water, too. Sometimes they would grab garter snakes by mistake. This caused much squealing and some giggling by the spectators. In this way, I caught many ducks myself. The people at the time also had many good hunting dogs. The dogs brought many ducks each to the owners. The people were destitute and many things were done to put food on tables.

Early in the spring many duck eggs were gathered by the people. I have gathered a lot of duck eggs myself. The feathers from these duck hunts were saved for making pillows and useful things. Late in the summer, another duck hunt was organized, this time when the ducks were moulting and could not fly.

South of Sliding Hill are numerous sloughs. These were full of water, and ducks in the early days. This is where we hunted ducks, and in the creek, a little to the south. There were no trees or bushes. Only, along the creek, there was the old clump of willows. Otherwise it was all prairie. Porcupines were also used as food.

There were many deer at the time and people were not stingy. When someone killed a deer, he gave most of it to his friends and relatives, leaving very little for himself. The intestines were given to the old people who knew what to do with them. Nothing was wasted. My uncle, Two on Two, used to collect deer horns, and he made all sorts of things with them. He once made a deer horn chair, which he sold for a good price.

The women helped with the haying. They used a forked stick in place of a hay fork. There were no forks on the reserve at the time. There was maybe the odd fork around, if a man was well to do. He was considered rich.

There were no Sundances when I was growing up because the white man did not allow it. My uncle once prepared to make a Sundance on Strike Him On the Back Reserve. Many tents were there on camping day. We came to this Sundance from the east. We crossed the Battle River, east of the reserve, where there is now a bridge. We then moved west along the south side of the river. Then we met a man who said to us, "you must hide. Policemen are at the Sundance site and they say more are on the way."

My uncle was doing this Sundance, and people were already there, and a lot of them were hiding in the bushes. We also pulled off the road, travelling over rough country and through some bushes, hiding as we went. Come to think of it, we lost a pillow, hiding from the police as we went. We never found our pillow.

There was no Sundance that year. Instead we had a steam bath ritual. Post holes were already dug for the Sundance lodge. Again the police came and kicked the dirt back in the holes. The police were mean. They also told my uncle they would put him in jail if he persisted in going through with the Sundance. A steam bath ritual was held in the afternoon, instead of a Sundance. Later in the evening, after the police had left, we came out of the bushes and camped there that night. All the cloth and tobacco offerings which were to be used at the Sundance were placed in the sweat bath lodge and left there. The policeman who kicked the post holes shut did not have long to live. On their way home, he was thrown from his horse and died instantly, so that was the end of that.

Early next morning, camp was broken and the people moved home. In those times we had many berries. There were saskatoons, chokecherries, cranberries and pincherries. The young girls used to pick the very best pincherries. They were good eating berries. They were eaten without being cooked. At the foot of the hill by the school were a lot of raspberries and cranberries. All these berries were picked. They were dried and put away for future use.

The policemen did wrong when they came, and put a stop to our Sundance. This was the only time they did wrong that I know of.

(Littlepoplar, Alphonse, 1974, pp. 85- 88. Reprinted with permission from the Department of Culture and Youth.)

CKAP24 The Tipi

(Reproduced with permission from Saskatchewan Indian Cultural College.)

POLES REPRESENT

CKAP25 Clan System Activity

Pre-Reading: Students may need a review of the vocabulary prior to reading the chapter, "Turtles are Skeptical" from pp 184 to 193 in Maracle’s book, Back on the Rez.

Vocabulary

matrilineal  missionaries  descended

accelerating  theoretically  patriarchy

undermined  alliances  bureaucratic  

distinctive  imperialism  colonial  

taboo  communal  dissension  

prevalent  daunting  prohibited

predicament  discord

After reading the chapter, students may answer these possible questions:

• According to the author, what is the foundation of traditional Iroquois society?

• List the clans to which Iroquois people can belong.

• Explain the rules of Iroquois matrilineal descent.

• According to the author, what are the influences that caused the clan system to become progressively weaker?

• How were First Nations women discriminated against? What were/are the results?

• How did the government try to correct the regulation mentioned in the previous question?

• Why are over a thousand people in the author’s territory "clanless"?

• Explain what the author describes as "clan confusion."

• How has the clan system’s problems become "greatly compounded"?

• How has the author’s own family ties become weakened?

• How is your own family organized?

• Write your own "clanoscope" (as Maracle describes on pp 185-186). Explain why the clan name you choose is suited to your family.

Crossword Puzzle: Page 182

Solution: Page 183

CKAP26 The Circle Camp

The Indian peoples believed that they were surrounded by spiritual forces. These forces had powers which were not ordinary. The Indian peoples also held the belief that this spirituality could give them an explanation of their reality, as well as of the origin and structure of the world.

These explanations are contained in traditional myths and legends. The explanations are based upon the idea that all things, living or non-living (animate and inanimate) are of equal importance. It is important to maintain a balance between the two. By maintaining a balance the strength of the family, band and nation is preserved. Individuals should direct their activities towards ensuring that the delicate relationship between the physical and spiritual world is balanced.

Since Indian peoples believe that everything takes place within a series of circular movements, this governs their relationships with the environment. The Sacred Circle is the symbol of life and harmony for Indian peoples.

After the annual summer buffalo hunts, entire nations would split up into separate bands. At this time a great celebration was held. This celebration was a combination of social events, sacred rituals and secular dances. There were songs and parades in which everyone participated. It was during this event that the existence of the nation and the spiritual unity of its members were demonstrated and affirmed.

The symbolic circle of this camp, which represented both the spiritual and physical worlds is expressed by Tyon, a "mixed-blood" Oglala, in his explanation of the significance of the Sacred Circle.

The Dakota believe the circle to be sacred because the Great Spirit caused everything in nature to be round except stone. Stone is the implement of destruction. The sun and the sky, the earth and the moon are round like a shield, though the sky is deep like a bowl. Everything that breathes is round like the body of a man. Everything that grows from the ground is round like the stem of a tree. Since the Great Spirit has caused everything to be round, mankind should look upon the circle as sacred for it is the symbol of all things in nature except stone. It is also the symbol of the circle that marks the edge of the world and therefore of the four winds that travel there. Consequently it is also the symbol of a year. The day, the night, and the moon go in a circle above the sky. Therefore the circle is a symbol of these divisions of time and hence the symbol of all time.

For these reasons the Oglala make their tipis circular, their camp circle circular, and sit in a circle in all ceremonies. The circle is also the symbol of the tipi and of shelter. If one makes a circle for an ornament and it is not divided in any way, it should be understood as the symbol of the world and of time.

All of these symbols were present in the circle camp. All of the activities of the plains Indian peoples, their beliefs, ceremonies, traditions, myths, customs and social relationships were enclosed within the boundaries of the circle camp. The camp was the ultimate expression of everything the Indian peoples consider to be important. The circle camp provided an opportunity for the men, women and children to show their national commitment every single year.

The circle camp served the purpose of bringing the nation together when social and ceremonial support was demanded from all. This was important on the plains where the environment meant that a person was primarily concerned with the survival of the band, rather than with the concerns of the nation. The sacredness was highlighted in a number of ways: by the camp’s circular formation by specific ceremonial restrictions and by its rules.

Many of the rules and restrictions have symbolic meanings that may seem obscure. Although the symbolism may be difficult to fully understand, the fact that they were so strictly followed tells us of its supreme sacredness. These symbolic meanings are important because they incorporate the past, as well as being a source of inspiration for the future.

(Bancroft Hunt, Norman, 1981, pp. 103-104. Reprinted with permission from Orbis Book Publishing.)

CKAP27 Circle of Life (Reading)

The eagle (kihéw) is a symbol of vision and signifies family unity and balance of life. It is a great provider for its family and goes through its lifetime having only one mate.

We live our lives in the following stages conception, infancy, child, adolescent, adult, Elder. We are taught our values and morals in all stages of life through the use of such tools as storytelling, dancing, humor, ceremonies, and so on. Each of the stages in the Circle of Life are part of the journey. The birth of a child is the greatest gift from the Creator! The Elder near the end of the journey on earth passes on traditional knowledge that will be left to the children by teachings and by the oral tradition.

The individual, the family, the people, the Creator, the cycles of the seasons, and the spiritual world are all in the Circle of Life. There is also the Storytelling Circle. Singers sit in a circle around the drum and tipis are put up in a circle. The circle is a powerful symbol of unity and renewal in many aspects of the cycles of life. In the Cree language, Circle of Life is Nahàtisiwin, living a balanced life. Our ancestors lived in harmony with nature always giving something back to replace what was taken.

Centuries old practices of social order based on the sacred and ceremonial with family in a formal but cooperative community with many specialized societies, including medicine societies and a strict code of laws passed down in the oral tradition is a legacy from the ancestors.

From time to time we need to focus on healing the spiritual part of our lives in order to heal holistically. One way of healing our spirit is through our ceremonies. The spirit knows it is safe to come out in a ceremony as this is a spiritual time and place.

We need to allow time for the mind to be at rest through contemplation and meditation. Our ancestors have always had a natural way of quiet meditation with nature and the universe. We need to reclaim and practice this gift of natural meditation. This can be as simple as a walk in the park, or walks through the bush. It can be as simple as sitting by the side of a lake and taking a few moments to reflect on the meaning of life.

Language is an important part of our culture. Our Elders have told us we should encourage people to learn our language to protect our culture. Without our language it is more difficult to understand the meaning of ceremonies such as the Sun Dance. However, many people have lost the language through no fault of their own. If you don’t speak the language find someone who is willing to translate for you. Teaching a child a few words or expressions is a good start at giving them cultural awareness. Not speaking the language does not mean that we are lesser First Nations people.

Our culture has changed over the years but our values and morals remain the same. We have heard some of our communities have lost and forgotten their culture. Our Elders have stressed to us that it is not lost or forgotten but has been unused. With so many First Nations people searching for their identities our culture will rise, maybe not as it existed in our ancestors’ eras, but adapted to today’s society and still following the teachings of our ancestors.

Basic teachings such as respecting Elders, ceremonies, and our First Nations way of life will give the children we care for a solid foundation that will help them through life’s experiences. We can still have our beliefs and be able to function in this fast paced world. That means we have to learn to related to each other and to live in harmony with Mother Earth.

The teachings of culture, language, morals, and values are a life long lesson. Our Elders tell us that a person learns everyday but still will never know everything. It is only the Creator who has this knowledge.

(Safarik, Allan, Editor. 1997, pp. 4-6. Reprinted with permission from Kiséwàtotàtowin Aboriginal Parenting Handbook.)

CKAP28 Games - Hampadedam (Dakota)

The Dakota, like other Indian tribes, enjoyed playing gambling games which involved guessing. Hampapedam was one of these. It is played with eleven sticks and two sets of bones, the object of the game being for one team to collect all the sticks. The game begins with each team getting five sticks.

A player hides a set of four small bones in the palms of his hands, two of the bones being marked or taped, and two being clear of any markings. Opposing players try to guess the position of the unmarked or ‘clear’ bones. If they guess rightly they receive a stick from their opponents, if wrongly, they must give up a stick. The eleventh stick is called the Kick Stick and is fought for by the teams main guesser or pointer. Players who guess the clear bone remain ‘alive’ and can continue to guess, but if the marked bone is chosen, the Kick Stick must be given up. Players must choose the position of the unmarked bones, whether on the inside or outside of the palm, right or left hand, positions known as ‘outside point’ ‘inside point’, ‘right side point’ or ‘left side point’. Games can end quickly, or may go on for hours.

In a similar game, a bullet or plum stone is placed by one person in one of four moccasins or mittens and opposing players try to guess its whereabouts.

In another, a small bead is placed under one of four small fur mats. The player clenches the bead in his hand, then passes his hand over and under each of the mats in time to music supplied by drummers and chanters. Opposing players watch carefully for changes in facial expression or certain eye or hand movements that may give a hint as to where the bead has been placed. Two teams of four men each are involved in the game as it is played on the Oak Lake and other Dakota reserves.

Eli Taylor of the Sioux Valley Reserve says the game has its origin in a legend which indicates it was first played by a Dakota and an Ojibwa warrior who met by accident while hunting. Although the tribes were enemies at the time, the two decided to play the game which was devised by the Dakota. The winner was to take the other’s life. The Dakota won, but rather than kill his opponent, declared a truce and the two exchanged gifts. Peace was thus established between the tribes. The game is played by both Dakota and Ojibwa people under slightly different rules and has become a symbol of understanding.

A game similar to the dice games of other cultures is played with eight plum stones marked with certain devices. The stones are shaken in a bowl and if certain devices turn up when they are rolled out, the game is won.

(Laviolette, Gontran, 1991, p Reprinted with permission from DLM Publications.)

CKAP29 The Red River Jig

The Red River Jig developed within a cultural milieu that was as colorful and dynamic as any in North America - that of the Metis. The Metis culture came into being through, and was nurtured by, the fur trade in Rupert’s Land during the two-hundred-year period 1670-1870. There were good reasons for the birth and growth of this high energy, courageous way of life that emerged through the marriage of peoples as different from each other as is possible among the brothers and sisters of the human family.

The Metis culture that developed in Rupert’s Land was a symbiosis of the Indian cultures with that of the French and Scots. These Europeans were fur traders who first established a trading relationship with the Indian peoples, and then became blood relatives to them through marriage. Nowhere is the symbiosis of cultures more apparent than in the traditional music and dancing of the Metis. Indeed, the Red River Jig presents in an audible and visible way the amalgamation of the rich mixture of the ethnic groups who, together, became the soul of the new Metis nation.

The Red River Jig was not a highly structured dance. It allowed for some individual variations of the dance steps, although it did have a basic pattern. It consisted of up to thirty different variants of jig steps. It was often the basis of individual dance competitions. Often of a cold winter’s eve, people would gather in the log cabin of friends and neighbors, and the inevitable fiddles would be brought out. As the music grew faster and warmer, one of the merrymakers would take center stage, dancing his best for a time, and then hurling a silent challenge to his friends, he would leave the floor. Now the next dancer would appear, man or woman, elder or child, and give it his (or her) best.

But the jig was not always presented as a challenge, or a competition. Partners danced it as well, circling each other from a distance of some six feet, keeping the body fairly straight, with all the rhythm directed towards the brightly beaded moccasined feet.

In the intricate steps of the Red River Jig, moccasined feet created patterns of rhythm borrowed a thousand years ago by the Plains Indians from the incredible mating dance of the male prairie chicken, a dance so full of wild and perfect rhythm that once seen can never be forgotten. In the wild skirl of the Metis fiddle the mind’s eye can also detect the swirl of kilts and the panorama of brilliant Highland plaids. One can also see the flourish of the full black skirts and the bright homespun shirts of the Quebec habitants, as rich and full-bodied in spirit as their homemade maple syrup.

So much social prestige was bound up in one’s ability to jig well at Metis social events that tongue-in-cheek stories abound concerning those who sold their souls to Lucifer in return for power to out-fiddle and out-dance all other competitors.

Elements of restraint were introduced into the fiddling and dancing of the Metis by many of the good fathers of the Catholic faith as he ministered to the spiritual needs of the Metis of the North West. Indeed, music and dancing were forbidden altogether during certain holiday seasons such as Christmas, Lent and Easter. But many of the Metis parishioners experienced great difficulty denying themselves these joys over extended periods of time. Thus the happy sounds of the fiddle (continued) to be heard in the dark of the night, despite the religious ban. A priest was heard to say in exasperation, "Ah, these Metis parishioners - they are all half Indian, half French, and they are half devil. We must take their fiddles from them, we will return them only when the holiday season is over."

But for the Metis the sound of fiddle music could not be turned off. Shortly after the last fiddle had been confiscated, music was heard again in the dark of the night. The tone was a bit askew, with a little higher pitch, even a hint of a screech - but the rhythm was impassioned as ever. It was coming from homemade fiddles. And so the music of Old Red River survived the scrutiny of the good fathers, and it persists to this very day. It survived two world wars and the loss of most traditional music when country music transplanted to the commercial city markets during the 1950s. It survived rock and roll and the period of punk. Today, it is more alive than ever.

(McLean, Don, 1987, pp. 44-46. Reprinted with permission from the Gabriel Dumont Institute.)

CKAP30 Voyagers and Indian Maidens: The Fur Trade Creates A New People

The LONDON DIRECTORS of the HBC’s trading empire in Rupert’s Land were aghast at the possibility that their servants in the colony might become enamoured with the Native women with whom they came in contact. As a result of their fears, rules were laid down forbidding the Company’s servants to dally with the young women who came with their relatives on the annual trip to trade furs for commodities at the Company’s forts.

The directors’ orders, posted throughout the Company’s string of forts around the northern bays, threatened to punish any servant who engaged in a love affair with an Indian woman. The posted order proclaimed:

But these cold rules could not be successfully transplanted to the desolate shores of the Hudson Bay region. Such a cold climate demanded warm human relationships, and within a few brief years both the servants and the officers of the HBC were eagerly taking Native wives. By 1763, when France ceded its territories in North America to England under the terms of the Treaty of Paris, the majority of the HBC’s employees in Rupert’s Land were of "mixed blood."

This new class of people, "Halfbreeds" as they were called, provided an unexpected boost to the Company’s commercial operations in Rupert’s Land. Bilingual and bicultural, they became the near-perfect middlemen of the fur trade, expanding the Company’s trading empire as they created new trade alliances between the Company and bands of Northern Cree. Furthermore, the men were a made-to-order workforce for the fur trade which rapidly replaced the indentured servants who previously had to be brought all the way from Europe. These Halfbreed people acquired within their family structure both the European and Indian skills necessary for the fur trade. Good hunters, at home in the forest or in the fort, they were expert canoemen as well.

As an added bonus to the Company, the Indian wives of Company men had many skills that proved essential once the Company’s operations began to expand to the interior of the continent. In fact the fur trade in the interior could not have been successfully carried out without the Company’s acquisition of the traditional skills of the Indian women. The Native wives made pemmican, a mixture of smoked meat and wild berries. Pemmican was such a nutritious food staple that voyagers could live on it for months at a time without any other food supplement. The women also made snowshoes, without which overland trips would have been impossible during the winter months when furs were at their prime. Indian women made and repaired canoes, which were, of course, vital to the fur trade.

When Canadian merchants from Montreal took over the fur trading route abandoned by the French after 1763, they forced the HBC to expand its operations into the continent’s interior in order to meet the new competition. These merchants, who soon amalgamated into a large monopoly known as the North West Company, used the St. Lawrence, Great Lakes, Rainy River system that connected Montreal to the West. This route consisted of thousands of miles of rivers and lakes stretching from the stately maple forests of Quebec and Ontario through the majestic desolation of rock and pine known as the Great Canadian Shield to the open immensity of the Canadian prairies. Beyond the seas of grass, alive with immense herds of buffalo, other waterways led to the incredibly rich fur-producing regions along the Mackenzie and Coppermine Rivers, whose poplar-lined shores wound north to the open tundra and beyond to the frozen shores of the Beaufort Sea.

Over these splendid waterways came hundreds of the most adventurous sons of the Quebec Habitants. Unlike their Hudson Bay counterparts, they were the sons of Canadian soil, at home in the woods and on the rivers - and far less amenable to company discipline than their foreign-born counterparts in the HBC. These "Nor’Westers" took Native brides without facing questions of foreign morality. They married for love and passion and for the same trade-related reasons as the Hudson’s Bay Company men. But they were more prolific, with many voyageurs taking more than one wife, as was the custom of the Natives.

The children of these unions, like their fathers, became employees of the North West Company. They were known as "les Metis," a name that has passed the test of time.

Today, all Canadians of Indian and European descent proudly call themselves Metis. They are the descendants of the early adventurers who first made their way across the vastness of this continent. They marked the beginning of the end for the ancient Indian cultures. And they planted the seeds of a new social order, the value of which is still to be determined.

(McLean, Don, 1987, pp. 5-7. Reprinted with permission from the Gabriel Dumont Institute.)

CKAP31 "Many Tender Ties"

Traditionally the Western Canadian fur trade has been regarded as a totally male sphere. I have often been met with the bemused query, "What women were there in the fur trade?" This study reveals that there were many women in the West who played an essential role in the development of fur-trade society. It is true that for many decades there was a virtual ban on all European women in the West, and this fact in itself is of the utmost importance. Contrary to what might be anticipated, the Canadian trader did not conform to the image of the "womanless frontiersman". Fundamental to the growth of the fur-trade society was widespread intermarriage between traders and Indian women. This phenomenon has been remarked upon in previous works, but the nature and extent of these unions have not been subject to detailed scrutiny. A major concern of the present study is to show that the norm for sexual relationships in fur-trade society was not casual, promiscuous encounters but the development of marital unions which gave rise to distinct family units. There were differences in attitude and practice between the men of the two companies yet fur-trade society developed its own marriage rite, marriage á la façon du pays, which combined both Indian and European marriage customs. In this, the fur-trade society of Western Canada appears to have been exceptional. In most other areas of the world, sexual contact between European men and native women has usually been illicit in nature and essentially peripheral to the white man’s trading or colonizing ventures. In the Canadian West, however, alliances with Indian women were the central social aspect of the fur traders’ progress across the country.

An explanation of this phenomenon can be found in the nature of the fur trade itself. Both the attitudes of the Indians and the needs of the traders dictated an important social and economic role for the native woman that militated against her being simply an object of sexual exploitation. Fur-trade society, as in both Indian and pre-industrial European societies, allowed women an integral socio-economic role because there was little division between the "public" and "private" spheres of work and home. The marriage of a fur trader and an Indian woman was not just a "private" affair the bond thus created helped to advance trade relations with a new tribe, placing the Indian wife in the role of cultural liaison between the traders and her kin. In Indian societies, the division of labour was such that the women had an essential economic role to play. This role, although somewhat modified, was carried over into the fur trade where the work of native women constituted an important contribution to the functioning of the trade.

An analysis of the evolution in the choice of marriage partners among the traders provides insights into the changing nature of fur-trade society. Indian wives were "the vogue" during the initial stages of the fur trade when the traders were dependent upon the Indians for survival. The important economic role of the Indian wife reflected the extent to which the traders adopted a native way of life. Nevertheless, fur-trade society was not Indian rather it combined both European and Indian elements to produce a distinctive, self-perpetuating community. This process was symbolized by the emergence of a large number of mixed-blood children. The replacement of the Indian wife by the mixed-blood resulted in a widespread and complex pattern of intermarriage among fur-trade families. It produced a close-knit society in which family life was highly valued. James Douglas echoed the sentiments of his colleagues when he declared that without "the many tender ties" of family, the monotonous life of a fur trader would be unbearable. Fur-trade society was not static and the shifting influence of its dual cultural roots was mirrored in the experience of successive generations of mixed-blood girls. Initially Indian influences were strong, but there was a noticeable tendency, particularly on the part of Company officers, to wean their daughters away from their Indian heritage and to encourage them to emulate the style of European ladies. After an absence of over a century, the actual appearance of white women in the Canadian West was to have serious repercussions, particularly upon the fur-trade elite. Their coming underscored the increasing class and racial distinctions which characterized fur-trade society in the nineteenth century. In the Rupert’s Land of the 1830s, a genteel British wife was a conspicuous status symbol for a Hudson’s Bay Company officer, but, ironically, the white wife also presaged the ultimate decline of the fur trade. Her presence was most visible in the Red River Settlement, where, like the missionary, she symbolized the coming of the settled, agrarian order. This would be a world in which native women would have little role to play.

Indian wives of the traders sometimes used their trading acumen to their husband’s advantage. Anastasie, the Ojibwa wife of J. B. Cadotte, played a very active part in conducting her husband’s trading operations which were eventually based at Sault Ste Marie. Cadotte, the only French trader of any consequence to remain in the Indian Country after the conquest, formed a partnership with the early Nor’Wester Alexander Henry, who noted that Madame Cadotte was "very generally respected." Indian wives at Bay posts made an important contribution to the Company’s trade by trapping martens and rabbits. Even the unbending James Duffield at Moose Factory in the 1740s was prepared to give preferential treatment to a former officer’s Indian wife because she was very industrious in catching martens:

"Must use [her] with tenderness on acct of ye Compys Interest," he informed the London Committee. Many decades later, Chief Factor Joseph Beioley reported "The Women belonging to and dependent on this place [Moose Factory] have traded a good many [Made] Beaver, consisting chiefly of Martins and Rabbit Skins." This trade in "small furs" became increasingly important as the supply of beaver decreased, and it helped to offset the cost of the women’s maintenance. When the London Committee complained in 1802 that its goods were being wasted on servant’s families, they were informed that the women had earned the clothing which they received for themselves and their children. To this the Committee acquiesced: "We do not object to women being paid for the Service in Trapping Martins."

Altogether, the multi-faceted work role of Indian women in the fur trade merits the description as "Your Honors Servants". But they were servants who never received wages in any real sense and undoubtedly both companies profited by this source of cheap labour. Significantly, in fur-trade society, it was the Indian woman’s traditional skills which made her a valuable economic partner, a fact that serves to underscore the initial dependence of the traders upon the Indians. Nevertheless, the Indian woman’s life was not left undisturbed by the coming of the Europeans. As has been emphasized, Indian women played an active social and economic role in the functioning of the fur trade it remains to try to determine how they themselves view the intrusion of the white man and his technology.

(Van Kirk, Sylvia, 1980, pp. 3- 5, 72- 73. Reprinted with permission from Watson & Dwyer Publishing Ltd.)