Bill Lee
We (my wife Ceil and I) went to the BC Museum out in Victoria a little while ago. We had only a limited amount of time so we focused on the Indigenous exhibit which we heard to be a very good one (it is). There are all manner of incredibly interesting and beautiful artefacts, form pre and post contact, indications of rich sophisticated cultures here from throughout BC (with emphasis on lower mainland and Island First Nations). There was however one small item that caught my eye in particular and made me reflect. It consisted of two latch keys, one somehow crafted out of a sardine can opener and one out of something else I cannot remember. According to the little blurb accompanying the exhibit, they were secretly crafted by some kids in a residential school for the purpose of breaking into the institution’s larder. They needed to get some food. The kids who were interned in some of these schools were kept in such a state of hunger, practically starving. This was of course just one more insult to their bodies and spirits. But clearly, from the artefact they would not accept their mal treatment. Those latchkeys are very simple pieces of this sad colonial history but it struck me that they have a larger meaning for the residential school story, the resistance to the authorities who sought to demean the students and rip them away from their history and culture. But this is not part of the narrative we have focused on and in particular been focusing on of late. We are provided, increasingly, with stories of the genuine depredations suffered by these children (really prisoners for the most part). A recent article in Rabble.com points out among other actions a variety of outrages taken against Indigenous children.• Certainly this calling attention to the suffering of Indigenous children is crucial. We really do need to face up the suffering that was visited upon Indigenous people as an earlier part of the colonial project of this country, a project by the way, that continues in various guises, government foot dragging on land claims and mean spirited refusal to fund First Nations on reserve education properly in a fair and equitable manner. And we need to understand the deep need for healing that exists within Indigenous communities because of the callous treatment they received (and still receive). But surely we, and they, the survivors and their descendants, need to hear and read about how men women and children have resisted their oppressors. For sure they were victims but they were not passive, they acted, the resisted. It is clear that for real rejuvenation and reconstruction of any oppressed people to take place there will need to be both healing and resistance.
________________
So the stories of resistance need sharing too. Those residential-school kids, children, broke out•, they spoke their languages in secret and apparently they took food and who knows what other kinds of actions. Raven Sinclair, the Indigenous academic and activist provided me with an example from just one of the institutions: “At Delmas the boys would snare rabbits, prairie chickens and gophers and cook them in the bushes. One would keep watch for the evil ones. Also the kids working in the kitchens would pilfer food to share.” I suspect that the story I saw in the Victoria museum and this one are not unusual.
So I wonder when the stories of resistance will really start to come out, like these about the kids who would not let themselves and their brothers and sisters be starved by their minders. Recently I heard an Indigenous woman say something to the effect: "We are a strong people. Look at all that we have had done to us and we're still here. Clearly part of that strength is in the traditions that they have refused to give up. The stories of both the local resistance of individual kids in residential schools and the tenacious holding on to traditions and practices are both important to survival and to development. We can hope that we'll hear just as many of these kind of stories of strength, tenacity and resilience as those of the horrors experienced under the residential school regime.
__________________________
¨ Not all were successful as noted by survivors in a story in the journal Windspeaker by Shari Narine: “(Some) died alone in the wilderness, trying to escape from oppression and conditions they suffered at the school. Some children got lost, some drowned, others were eventually found, huddled together, frozen to death,” said Wilson. “(Some) died alone in the wilderness, trying to escape from oppression and conditions they suffered at the school. Some children got lost, some drowned, others were eventually found, huddled together, frozen to death,” And Johnston understands why. She ran away from the second residential school she was sent to. She was in her mid-teens and into her third year at a residential school in Whitehorse, Yukon. She was one of the lucky ones: she made it home and to freedom." (http://www.ammsa.com/publications/windspeaker/trc-survivors-weep-those-who-died)
We (my wife Ceil and I) went to the BC Museum out in Victoria a little while ago. We had only a limited amount of time so we focused on the Indigenous exhibit which we heard to be a very good one (it is). There are all manner of incredibly interesting and beautiful artefacts, form pre and post contact, indications of rich sophisticated cultures here from throughout BC (with emphasis on lower mainland and Island First Nations). There was however one small item that caught my eye in particular and made me reflect. It consisted of two latch keys, one somehow crafted out of a sardine can opener and one out of something else I cannot remember. According to the little blurb accompanying the exhibit, they were secretly crafted by some kids in a residential school for the purpose of breaking into the institution’s larder. They needed to get some food. The kids who were interned in some of these schools were kept in such a state of hunger, practically starving. This was of course just one more insult to their bodies and spirits. But clearly, from the artefact they would not accept their mal treatment. Those latchkeys are very simple pieces of this sad colonial history but it struck me that they have a larger meaning for the residential school story, the resistance to the authorities who sought to demean the students and rip them away from their history and culture. But this is not part of the narrative we have focused on and in particular been focusing on of late. We are provided, increasingly, with stories of the genuine depredations suffered by these children (really prisoners for the most part). A recent article in Rabble.com points out among other actions a variety of outrages taken against Indigenous children.• Certainly this calling attention to the suffering of Indigenous children is crucial. We really do need to face up the suffering that was visited upon Indigenous people as an earlier part of the colonial project of this country, a project by the way, that continues in various guises, government foot dragging on land claims and mean spirited refusal to fund First Nations on reserve education properly in a fair and equitable manner. And we need to understand the deep need for healing that exists within Indigenous communities because of the callous treatment they received (and still receive). But surely we, and they, the survivors and their descendants, need to hear and read about how men women and children have resisted their oppressors. For sure they were victims but they were not passive, they acted, the resisted. It is clear that for real rejuvenation and reconstruction of any oppressed people to take place there will need to be both healing and resistance.
________________
·
Unfortunately while the article is informative it perpetrates one untrue myth
that British soldiers at Ft. Pitt in Saskatchewan
distributed blankets infected with small pox to the Cree in 1885. This has be
disproven in numerous research documents. The outrages taken against Indigenous
people were quite bad enough and do not require made up stories that have been
debunked. It tends to weaken the impact of the many ones that are all to true.
So the stories of resistance need sharing too. Those residential-school kids, children, broke out•, they spoke their languages in secret and apparently they took food and who knows what other kinds of actions. Raven Sinclair, the Indigenous academic and activist provided me with an example from just one of the institutions: “At Delmas the boys would snare rabbits, prairie chickens and gophers and cook them in the bushes. One would keep watch for the evil ones. Also the kids working in the kitchens would pilfer food to share.” I suspect that the story I saw in the Victoria museum and this one are not unusual.
So I wonder when the stories of resistance will really start to come out, like these about the kids who would not let themselves and their brothers and sisters be starved by their minders. Recently I heard an Indigenous woman say something to the effect: "We are a strong people. Look at all that we have had done to us and we're still here. Clearly part of that strength is in the traditions that they have refused to give up. The stories of both the local resistance of individual kids in residential schools and the tenacious holding on to traditions and practices are both important to survival and to development. We can hope that we'll hear just as many of these kind of stories of strength, tenacity and resilience as those of the horrors experienced under the residential school regime.
__________________________
¨ Not all were successful as noted by survivors in a story in the journal Windspeaker by Shari Narine: “(Some) died alone in the wilderness, trying to escape from oppression and conditions they suffered at the school. Some children got lost, some drowned, others were eventually found, huddled together, frozen to death,” said Wilson. “(Some) died alone in the wilderness, trying to escape from oppression and conditions they suffered at the school. Some children got lost, some drowned, others were eventually found, huddled together, frozen to death,” And Johnston understands why. She ran away from the second residential school she was sent to. She was in her mid-teens and into her third year at a residential school in Whitehorse, Yukon. She was one of the lucky ones: she made it home and to freedom." (http://www.ammsa.com/publications/windspeaker/trc-survivors-weep-those-who-died)
Comments
Post a Comment