Boarding school memoirs of Patrick DesJarlait, compiled by Robert DesJarlait St. Mary's Church and Mission SchoolMy first school was St. Mary’s Mission Boarding School in the town of Redby. All the Ojibwe schoolchildren had to live at the school, even though our homes were half a mile away. On some weekends, we had home privileges. But during the week, we lived in dormitories and ate all our meals at St. Mary’s. Many families needed the school’s help to feed their children. Since jobs were hard to find and some people were very poor. At school, the children could eat fruits, eggs, and milk – foods that they seldom had at home. St. Mary’s also provided uniforms for children to wear. Our lives at St. Mary’s were dominated by Catholic traditions. In the mornings, we went to mass before breakfast. My teachers were nuns and priests, and they taught us about the church, as well as about the usual academic subjects. I remember that strict regulations regarding customs and language were placed on us. We were not allowed to speak to one another in Ojibwe. Growing up, we spoke only Ojibwe in our home. At school, my siblings and I would sneak into a closet and we talked in Ojibwe. Fortunately, we were never caught. (They used to wash their mouths out with soap and water if they talked Ojibwe.) My given Ojibwe name was Naagaabo (Standing in the Woods) because I was always in the woods and observing the things around me. At St. Mary’s, I was given my non-Ojibwe first name. The sisters named their charges after the saints. My brothers and I all got Irish names. Traditional Ojibwe games, dancing, and crafts were forbidden. By imposing these restrictions, the school hoped to encourage us to accept the white man’s way of life. Girls at St. Mary's Mission School Boys at St. Mary's Mission School While we were at the school, we missed our families and our homes. Sometimes my mother would let me know when she was coming to the village during the week, and I would plan to sneak out and meet her on the road. We all looked forward to the church holidays that were celebrated at St. Mary’s. Christmas was especially exciting. We usually spent a few days at home. We enjoyed our vacation, and we never looked forward to going back to the school routine. At abut the time of our move to the town of Red Lake, I was transferred from St. Mary’s to the Red Lake Boarding School. Life at the Red Lake school was similar to life in the mission school. We slept in dormitories and ate all our meals at school. Every Sunday, we marched a mile and a half to the mission for church services, even though temperatures in the winter would sometimes fall to -25° F or colder. And we were forbidden to use Ojibwe customs and language. I continued my artwork. At St. Mary’s, some of the nuns had encouraged my drawing and had given me religious subjects to sketch. But I remember having my ears pulled by the priests because I was sketching during study time. Red Lake Government Boarding School At Red Lake Boarding School, I was allowed to plan decorations for school affairs. Although my teachers at Red Lake Boarding School allowed me to sketch during study time, I don’t remember getting much encouragement from them. In those days, art was not considered a practical career for a reservation Indian. I thought that I would always live at Red Lake and that I would eventually earn my living in the lumber mill or at the fisheries. It didn’t occur to me that there was any other way of life open to me. This changed when I transferred to the Pipestone Boarding School in Pipestone. My experience at Pipestone Boarding School was an important turning point for me. During those years, I realized for the first time that there was something more than reservation life. At Pipestone we had new opportunities to meet white people and to learn about their way of life. We made extra money by doing yard work, painting, and other part time jobs for white families in town. In addition to meeting white families, I got acquainted with my Indian classmates, who came from all over the United States. Those experiences had an influence on my attitudes and plans for the future. Although the teachers at school did not encourage us to use our native languages and customs, they did accept my drawings and paintings of Ojibwe life. They encouraged my artistic abilities and took a greater interest in me than my previous teachers had taken. I was pleased also because the teachers at Pipestone were constantly giving me art projects to do. All these things added to my enjoyment of school and gave me a feeling of acceptance and confidence that had an important influence on my future career. Pipestone Boarding School Postscript: These memoirs aren’t intended to gloss over the colonized oppression wrought by boarding schools. Children were physically, mentally, emotionally, and sexually abused. Some children died at the hands of their captors. Certainly experiences differed. Although my father understood the anger many Indians had against the boarding school system, he appreciated the fact that it provided him with physical necessities and a sense of structure which he might not have received at home. Interestingly, another well-known Ojibwe artist, George Morrison, who attended the Hayward Indian Boarding School in Wisconsin, expressed similar thoughts about boarding school providing a sense of structure that allowed him to develop his artistic yearnings. In boarding school, my father lost his language as a first language. He lost his name. He was separated from his parents. He was seven years old when his mother passed away. She was a full-blood, medicine woman, and first language speaker. Her loss led to a deterioration of family life. Boarding school gave him a semblance of structure and allowed him to develop artistic skills. But the price to pay was cultural trauma – a historical trauma that was passed on to his children. We grew up without traditions and language. My trauma included alcoholism and drug abuse. But we didn’t grow up completely without knowing our heritage. His art provided the roots of identity. The transmission of cultural traditions through his visual imagery provided a way of remembering – who we were and where we came from. It was a light that shone on a path dimmed by colonialism, oppression, and institutionalized racism. To understand the historical trauma effectuated by boarding schools, one must go back to where it began. One part of the trauma is the loss of land through imposed treaties; another part is boarding schools. Boarding schools, in particular, are much more personal because our parents, or grandparents, were subjected to the devastating loss of culture. Hence, one must understand the roots of their trauma, overcome it, and work to prevent passing intergenerational trauma to succeeding generations. In this way, we reintegrate cultural well-being to ourselves, to our families, to our children, and to our communities. This is how we decolonize ourselves. Naagaabo, the artist as young man.
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By Robert DesJarlait Note: Reprint of article from August 30, 2000 This is where it starts, this is where it begins," Clara Jackson says softly. "This is where we make our stand." Jackson, an Ojibwe language teacher from Inger, Minn., watches as language camp participants gather for the evening meal. The camp, composed of five wigwam frames and a lodge frame, is speckled with sunlight that glimmers through a foliage of forest. The Misizahga'igani Anishinahbay Izhitwahwin Immersion Grounds at Rutledge, Minn., represents the growing response to 508 years of an enforced doctrine seeded in the court of Queen Isabella of Spain in 1492. Upon receiving a copy of the Grammatical, the first grammar text of any modern European language, the Queen asked what it was for. To which Antonio de Nebrija, its author, replied, "Language is the perfect instrument of empire." For the Ojibwe, the perfect instrument of empire was initiated through the Treaty of 1826. In Article 6, $1000 was appropriated for a building to be used for the education of Ojibwe youth. This provision, found in other treaties made between tribal nations and the U.S. government, foreshadowed the boarding and mission era of the 1860s. It was the beginning of Euro-American efforts to educate Indian youth by eradicating tribal languages and replacing them with the dominant language of Europe. "Our parents and grandparents went to boarding school, and the language was beaten out of them," says Larry Smallwood, the Language and Cultural Immersion Administrator for the Mille Lacs Band. "Those that didn't lose it didn't teach it to their children because they didn't want their children to face the same thing they did." James Crawford, a linguist specialist, refers to the 1860s as a period of language genocide. He writes: "In 1868, a federal commission on making peace with the plains Indians concluded: `In the difference of language today lies two-thirds of our trouble...Schools should be established, which children should be required to attend; their barbarous dialects should be blotted out and the English language substituted.'" By the 1880s, reformers institutionalized the practice of linguistic genocide in the BIA boarding school system. A BIA teacher from that period writes that boarding schools "went on the assumption that any Indian custom was, per se, objectionable, whereas the customs of the whites were the ways of civilization...[Children] were taught to despise every custom of their forefathers, including religion, language, songs, dress, ideas, methods of living." Three hundred-plus Native languages were affected by the ensuing language policies initiated by government agents and missionaries in the U.S. and Canada. For the Ojibwe, the effects were devastating. The social system of the Ojibwe, the clan system, under which the Ojibwe had lived for hundreds of years, and through which community roles and duties were determined, was crippled. The religious ceremonies of the Midewiwin, the Great Mystery Lodge, were banned and driven underground by government agents. The BIA policy was to kill the Indian to save the man. And by killing the language, Indian people could no longer conceptualize nor perform the ceremonies that had connected them for thousands of years to Mother Earth. The punishment was severe for those who continued to use the language. Clyde Bellecourt, a local Native activist, says: "Whenever they caught my mother speaking Ojibwe, they took steel pellets, put them against her knees, wrapped cloth to hold them in place, and made her get down and scrub floors. When she got older, she could hardly walk and was often in pain as a result of the punishment inflicted upon her." Nearly one-third of tribal languages became extinct. By the 1990s, 210 languages were left. Today, 175 of those languages are spoken in the United States. Out of those 175 languages, only about 20, or 11 percent, are still being learned in the traditional way through parents and/or elders. Seventeen percent, or approximately 30 tribal languages, are spoken by the parental generation, but they are not, in general, passed on. About 40 percent, or 70 tribal languages, are spoken only by the middle-age or grandparental generation. The remaining one-third, tribal languages are spoken only by the oldest of people. Thus, 40 tribal languages are near extinction or are in the process of becoming extinct. One hundred tribal languages are endangered. The remaining 20 tribal languages are considered borderline endangered languages. According to 1990 figures given in Ethnologue: USA, there were 43,000 Ojibwe speakers out of a total Ojibwe population of 148,826 in the U.S. and Canada. The Endangered Language Fund lists the Ojibwe language as a borderline endangered language. Under the endangered language categories developed by Michael Krauss, moribund are languages that are no longer being learned as mother-tongue by children, and endangered are languages which, though now still being learned by children, will--if present conditions continue--cease to be learned by children during the coming century. The Ojibwe language lies somewhere between Krauss's two categories. Jon Reyhner, a linguist specialist, says: "When a language is lost, much of the knowledge that language represents is also lost. Our words, our way of saying things are different ways of thinking, seeing and acting." In the same vein, a dominant language imposes a different way of thinking, seeing and acting. This was expressed by Lewis Taylor, an fluent Ojibwe speaker from Cass Lake. "White words have taken away much of the Anishinaabe way," Lewis says. "I have a brother who brings his children's children to visit me. They call me their great-uncle. In the white man's way, I am their great-uncle. But in the Anishinaabe way, I am their grandfather. In the white man's language, the meaning of who I am is taken away. "This is why we need to learn our language," Lewis continues. "So that we can rebuild our families and learn who we are in relation to each other. It's the same way with cousins. In the Anishinaabe way, cousins are brothers and sisters. It doesn't matter if they are third or fourth cousins. They are still your brothers and sisters. But the white man's language takes away the true meaning of our families." Larry Smallwood has been active in the Ojibwe language revival movement since the 1970s. His powerful, bass voice makes him a natural leader in language revival. He was born at Mille Lacs and his first language is Ojibwe. "I was raised by my aunt and uncle, and they spoke only Ojibwe," Smallwood says. "Back then, it was customary to learn language from the grandparents and elders in the family. I didn't learn English until I was in first grade." In 1988-90, he worked in the Minneapolis school system. "None of it worked," he says. "It was too inconsistent because I couldn't teach the language with only 15-20 minutes of language instruction a week. Colors, numbers, and animals only gave the kids a limited vocabulary. They were only learning to say the word." "When you teach the language, you have to teach more than just the word," Smallwood continues. "You have to know how to use the word in a phrase. For example, you can learn the word `hungry.' But you need to learn how to use the word in a sequence. You just can't go around saying the word `hungry.' You have to be able to say, `Yes, I am hungry' or `No, I am not hungry now, but I will eat later.' That's the difference between vocabulary and immersion. "I believe in total immersion. My experiences showed me this was the only way it could be," he explains. "A limited vocabulary is not effective. Knowing colors, numbers, and animals doesn't provide you with a knowledge of the language. There are different ways to teach, but you need a scope in sequence and a scope in word usage. Get them to learn a simple phrase. Teach them useful things that they can use and speak." Smallwood does not consider the various Ojibwe dialects to be a hindrance to learning the language. He says the main differences are accents. Although the pronunciation might be somewhat different, Ojibwe is essentially the same language. "You can't afford to get hung up on dialects," he says. "When you have the opportunity to learn it, then learn it. To some people, if you are from Red Lake or Leech Lake, then you got to sound like a Red Laker or Leech Laker. It don't matter as long as you know the language." He comments on people who make the excuse that Ojibwe is too difficult to learn. "If you get an attitude, then you'll never learn the language," Smallwood says. "If you get an attitude that you can learn, then you can. I can give you the tools. It's up to you to use them. You take those tools, go out in the world, use them, and continue on." "The Creator gave me an assignment to teach the language," he continues. "People don't realize that our language has a spiritual purpose. We need that language for our ceremonies. When we go to the Spirit World, we need that language to be understood by the Creator. It doesn't matter what dialect you are speaking. What is important is that you speak the language so that the Creator can hear you talk." One of the obstacles to learning the language is from within. Dorothy Sam is a fluent speaker from Mille Lacs. "Some of our own people laugh at our language," she says quietly. "They laugh at our drums, at our pipes, at our dances. They laugh because they are afraid. Do not hold anything against them. Put tobacco out for them and pray for them." "Learn what you can," Sam continues. "Even if you can't learn the whole language, learn what you can. Learn the words that are important to you. But learn as many as you can. Don't be ashamed to learn your language. Don't let the laughter make you ashamed." Smallwood says, "Elders should not make fun of anyone who is trying to learn the language. It only discourages those who want to learn. I remember there were some elders who used to talk only in Ojibwe when they didn't want the kids to understand. We don't need that kind of attitude anymore. We need to bring our language back." "About 25 percent of the Mille Lacs population, out of 3300, has Ojibwe language skills." he says. "Overall, I think our language is fairly healthy. Each year, in March, we have a language conference with the various Ojibwe bands in Minnesota and Wisconsin. We discuss our ways and beliefs in language education. The speakers are out there. But the majority are 50 and over. We need to reach the younger people. Otherwise, 20 years down the line, we could lose our language." The Misizahga'igani Anishinahbay Izhitwahwin Immersion Grounds is not intended solely for Mille Lacs Band members. At the language workshop held July 27-28, several bands were represented by the participants, including Lac Courte Orielles, St. Croix, Fond du Lac, Leech Lake and Red Lake. "People will come out of this experience understanding the spirituality of the Ojibwe language and culture," Smallwood explains. "The goal is to help enable them to preserve the Anishinabe ways, and to improve and participate in their communities." "Right now, we have some fine young people, in their mid-20s and early 30s, who will be the language teachers of tomorrow," Smallwood says, "They have their hearts in learning the language. Kellar Papp from Red Cliff; Tony Treuer, Adrian Liberty and Henry Solcken from Leech Lake; Julie Corbine for Lac Courte Orielles. Some of the young men are active in Mide ceremonies and the Big Drum. They know that our language supports those drums and ceremonies." One of the young people that Smallwood mentions is Anton Treuer. Treuer is an assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin--Milwaukee and the editor of Oshkaabewis Native Journal, published by Bemidji State University Indian Studies. Treuer says, "Without the language, the Ojibwe people cannot conduct their ceremonies--their drum ceremonies, medicine dances and the shaking tent. These ceremonies can only be done in Ojibwe. Without the Ojibwe language, the culture is lost and Ojibwe people become mere descendants of Indians, with little to differentiate themselves from non-Indians. Language and traditions combine to make culture. Indian people need both to survive." Endangered Native Languages Tribe Speakers Population - tribe, number of fluent speakers, tribal population: 1) Southern Arapaho: 5 / 7000 2) Gros Ventre: 10 / 1200 3) Hidatsa: 100 / 1200 4) Mandan: 6 / 400 5) Pawnee: 4 / 2000 6) Eyak: 1 / 20 7) Achumawi: 10 / 800 8) Apache, Kiowa: 18 / 1000 9) Cowlitz: 2 / 200 10) Makah: 10 / 900 11) Yurok: 10 / 4000 12) Wichita: 1 / 750 13) Spokane: 50 / 1000 14) Omaha-Ponca: 85 / 3000 15) Coeur D'Alene: 40 / 800 According to current projections, only 20 tribal languages out of the 170 that remain today will survive by 2050. (1990 Figures from Ethnologue and National Clearinghouse for Bilingual Education. Southern Arapaho figure from private research) © Robert DesJarlait, 2000 / 2021
By Robert DesJarlait I became acquainted with The Brave by James Bird (Grand Portage Ojibwe) through controversy from a post on Facebook. The comment thread included a review in the New York Times by David Treuer. Treuer's review criticized the book for it's lack of accurate portrayal of Native American experience in a YA novel. Further criticism by Deborah Locke (The Circle Newspaper) and Debbie Reese (American Indians in Children's Literature) focused on perceived stereotypes. I'm not unfamiliar with stereotypes. I've marched in anti-mascot protests going back to 1971. In 1993, I wrote "Rethinking Stereotypes: Native American Imagery in Non-Native Art and Illustration" (Anoka-Hennepin Indian Education Program Press). I've also illustrated two YA books - "Sparrow Hawk" by Meridel Le Sueur (1987) and "The Creator's Game" by Art Coulson (2013). I'm also a writer who is working on my first YA book. As such, the criticism of Bird's book piqued my interest. The Brave is told in the person singular POV. We see the world as Collin sees it and how he experiences it. At age 12, going on 13, he has lived a life isolated from his culture. "I don't know anything about Native Americans. Only what I've seen in the movies and read in school." He sees the Native world in stereotypes - "...wrinkled-up old men who deliver a super-wise message...[and] violent savages. Red-skinned villains who leaped out of brushes and attacked indiscriminately." Although Collin doesn't face racism in his life in California, he does face a bias because he is different. He has OCD. Collin counts the letters in a sentence spoken by a person; in his response, Collin cites the number along with his answer: "Can you not do that right now?" Principal Harris asks. "Twenty-three. And like I've told you a million times before, I'm not trying to do it, it just happens." We learn from Collin that: "Again, each letter invades my skull, separating itself into a countable sequence. First they appear as puffy white clouds, but then morph into smoky white numbers..." As a result of his malady, Collin is subjected to ridicule and a target for bullies. His problems with school lead his father, with whom he has a dysfunctional relationship, to send him to Minnesota to live with his Ojibwe mother, who Collin has never met. Cecelia, Collin's mother, lives on the Fond du Lac reservation. Fond du Lac isn't described with detail. There are no familiar roads, lakes, or rivers. Rather, it is a forested entity. This is also true with Duluth. Collin attends North Duluth Middle School but we don't see Anishinaabeg-gichigami (Lake Superior) or Duluth's famous landmark - the Duluth Aerial Bridge. I don't think the absence of location detail diminishes the narrative. The story focuses on the immediate - what Collin sees, hears, and feels. And, Collins experiences are largely focused within a wooded environment and, in particular, his relationship with his next door neighbor, Orenda, a young Ojibwe girl. Orenda's world is largely confined to a tree house that is filled with paintings of butterflies. Daily, she feeds butterflies with slices of peaches. (For those who don't know, butterflies are fond of peaches as well as any fruit with nectar.) Orneda says: "I plucked them from the tree myself." Orenda's comment about a peach tree is interesting. Peach trees don't grow in northern Minnesota where Fond du Lac is located. But, five varieties grow in Southeastern Minnesota. Perhaps Orenda picked out the peaches in a store and metaphorically referred to it as plucking peaches from a tree. Or maybe Orenda and her father, Foxy, travelled to Southeastern Minnesota and she picked peaches from a tree. I point this out because one of the criticisms of the book is the notion that peach trees grow at Fond du Lac. Of course, they don't. On the other hand, there aren't any peach trees in the book. There are plenty of peaches, but the only peach tree is in Orenda's dialogue. When Collin meets Orenda, she uses a cane and a wheelchair. As the book progresses, so does Orenda's condition. I'm not going to reveal the cause of Orenda's illness. I think that's for the reader to find out. Interestingly, the word Orenda is a Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) word. It may seem like an unusual name for an Ojibwe girl. But I know a number of Ojibwe girls/women that are named Cheyenne. They are, of course, not Cheyenne in the tribal sense; rather, Cheyenne is simply a popular name. Orenda, however, is not the name of a tribe. Orenda basically means a power that pervades in varying degrees all animate and inanimate natural objects as a transmissible spiritual energy. And, there is indeed a spiritual energy that flows into Collin's world. Magical realism has its roots in Latin literature. It is a popular and growing genre in YA novels with characters that are diverse - Native American, Black, Asian, Latin. Josie M. Meléndez writes: "Magical realism in YA books trusts the reader to decide on their own what’s real or not and let their imagination take over. "It’s easier for YA readers to believe that magic can exist in a realistic setting without question As well, if magical realism is a worldview, nobody can see the world the way the intended age audience can." ("The Rise of Magical Realism in Young Adult Fiction") The Brave is certainly within the parameters of magical realism. But it also aligns itself to traditional storytelling. In our language, these stories are called Aadisokaan(ag); the "ag" makes the word a plural. In those stories, humans can become animals, and animals can become humans. And, those humans who have passed to the Spirit World can appear, and entities from the Spirit World can also appear. These stories are not mere fairy tales or myths intended for children and adults. As A. Irving Hallowell wrote: "Ojibwa myths are considered to be true stories, not fiction." ("World View and Behavioral Environment") In other words, our stories are not about "myths." Our stories are about the real world that we daily engage in. It is a world that intersects with the spiritual realm. Collin can't articulate his interaction with this other world. He can only think of it as magic. After all, he is only 12-years-old. As the story progresses, "magic" merges into the reality of Collin's world. For the other characters, such as Collin's mother, Orenda and her father, there is no "magic' because the "magic" already forms the basis of their everyday life. But "magic" is a misnomer; rather, it is the connection to traditional beliefs that forms the basis for their everyday life. And, it is from those beliefs that the spiritual realm intersects into the land of the living. In one of the most beautiful scenes in the book, Orenda takes Collin to a hill where they observe a wondrous kaleidoscope of butterflies and Collin meets Orneda's mother. Butterflies are an integral symbol that appears throughout the book. Orenda, whose ability to walk diminishes as the narrative progresses, always seems to be surrounded by butterflies. In our culture, there are origin stories of how things were created. "The First Butterflies" recounts how butterflies came to be. Long ago, Spirit Woman had twins, a boy and a girl. They were loved and taken care of by the animals. However, the twins were unable to walk. Nenabozho, our culture hero, was concerned and asked Gichi-Manidoo (the Creator) what to do. He was told to journey to a mountain where he would find thousands of small, glittering stones of various colors. Nenabozho collected the stones but didn't know what to do with them. He tossed one into the air and it fell on the ground. He tossed a few more and the same thing happened. Then he grabbed a handful and tossed them into the air. As they came down, the stones changed into winged creatures of many colors and shapes. They were the first butterflies. They followed Nenabozho back to the twins. The twins were delighted. They began to crawl to try to catch the butterflies. But the butterflies were always beyond their reach. Then the twins began to walk and even run in their efforts to catch the butterflies. (from Basil Johnston, "Tales the Elders Told") Within the narrative is the story about the boy and the wolves. The story is narrated by Ajidamoo, or Aji, Collin's deceased brother. Orenda has a copy of the audio and lets Collin listen to it in three parts. The story is about a baby who is borne away from his village during flood. He is found by a wolf pack and raised by a mother wolf. The baby grows into a young boy. At one point, the boy and wolves are separated after the forest is destroyed by construction crews. The boy is sent to the city where he is "placed in a school and forced to go to church, so he could be a good human boy." He escapes because he "was too wolf to live with the humans. He didn't fit in." Eventually, the boy returns to the wolves and helps them find a new home. The two worlds of wolves and men start to merge together. "Some humans became wolves and some wolves became human...This is why man and wolf must get along...Because even though we look different, we are family." Adjidamoo's story reminds me of our origin story of Original Man and the Wolf whose fate of existence is Inextricably linked together. Collin says: "I realize that I am the boy in the story. I am from two different worlds." Collin could be speaking for all of us who live in two different worlds. And, we know from the origin story that what happens to the wolf, happens to us. In her review of The Brave, Debbie Reese writes: "...the noun [Brave} is outdated, old-fashioned, or offensive. In my experience, white writers use "brave" instead of man or boy. I've never heard any Native person call a Native man or boy a "brave." And, throughout her review, Reese notes the use of brave, as used in its noun form, in the dialogue of the characters. For Reese, the use of brave is problematic and perpetuates a stereotype. brave [brāv] ADJECTIVE 1. brave (adjective) · braver (comparative adjective) · bravest (superlative adjective) ready to face and endure danger or pain; showing courage. NOUN the brave (plural noun) · brave (noun) · braves (plural noun) 1. (the brave) people who are ready to face and endure danger or pain. 2. dated - an American Indian warrior. a young man who shows courage or a fighting spirit. VERB brave (verb) · braves (third person present) · braved (past tense) · braved (past participle) · braving (present participle) endure or face (unpleasant conditions or behavior) without showing fear. Reese may have never heard a Native person call a Native man or boy a brave. However, I, and many others, have heard Native people use the term Brave. The term is used widely in Princess and Brave categories to denote royalty. Throughout the year, Native communities host competition for their youth to select those who will represent their community in the coming year as Princess and Brave. Certainly, the term is problematic given its origin - Late 15th century: from French, from Italian bravo ‘bold’ or Spanish bravo ‘courageous, untamed, savage’, based on Latin barbarus (Oxford Dictionary). In addition to powwows, there are Native schools with sport teams named Braves. In this regard, it isn't the stereotyped term, i.e., Brave as savage, that is perpetuated; rather, it's the adjective, or more specifically, the quality - of showing courage - that is emulated or sought. One of our seven guiding principals is Zoogide’iwin (Courage/Brave): to face the foe with integrity. And, Brave, as a noun, is integrated into our language - Ogichidaa means warrior or brave. As it is, Bird uses the adjective more than the noun. However, the use of the noun, i.e., Brave, isn't outdated, old-fashioned, or offensive. It may be dated but it is still used. And, that's because it is rooted in Ojibwe language and in the vernacular of many tribes. Certainly, Brave doesn't equate to the N-word as some would assume. I loved this book. As a cancer survivor, it speaks to me about courage, hope, and love. And, no, Orenda doesn't have cancer. But her fortitude in bravely facing a catastrophic disease speaks volumes to those living in the shadows of such diseases. And, Orenda's message goes beyond her own immediate concerns. The wisdom she gains from her experience helps Collin deal with his OCD issues by instilling courage and bravery into his life, and connecting him to spiritual experiences. That The Brave doesn't address issues such as racism, reservation and urban violence, and historical trauma doesn't diminish its strengths as a book about a facet of Ojibwe/Native experience. There will be other Ojibwe/Native writers who will write such books. What The Brave gives us is about the significance of cherishing life despite medical or mental afflictions - or being different. To face life's struggles, one needs Zoogide’iwin. Or as Orenda says: "To be brave as a brave." © Robert DesJarlait, 2021
In 1970, I was 24 years old, an alcoholic and drug abuser, and had aspirations to be a writer. At that time, I knew very little as to who I was as a Native person. I knew I was born at Red Lake and I was “Chippewa.” I knew about some our cultural practices, largely through the art of my father, Patrick Robert DesJarlait. The village of Red Lake was heavily Christianized, As such, I didn’t have any knowledge about traditional customs and beliefs and wasn’t aware that we even had a language of our own. My father, who was a first language speaker, lost his connection to language as a result of the assimilative policies of Red Lake Boarding School that was run by St. Mary’s Catholic Mission. In the summer of 1970, his friend, Gerald Vizenor, came to visit us. Vizenor just had two small books published – “anishinabe nagamon” (songs of the people) and “anishinabe adisokan” (tales of the people). A few days after Vizenor’s visit, my father gave me the books and told me to read them. He said they were important books and that I could learn from them. Indeed, I learned. I was mesmerized by the opening for “anishinabe adisokan”: “You have asked me to me to tell you the customs of our ancestors and the origin of the anishinabe. My nosjishe, it is your wish and I shall tell you our beliefs.” One particular sentence stood out: “The anishinabe are known in the dominant society by the invented names ojibway and chippewa. In the language of the people the anishinabe are the woodland people.” That particular sentence set me on a lifelong journey to find myself – not as an Ojibwe or Chippewa person, but as an Anishinaabe person. And, it was language that formed a core to understanding my identity. Vizenor’s books was my introduction to language, a language, that until then, I didn’t know existed. Although the books weren’t written fully in Anishinaabemowin, words were interspersed throughout the texts. In one of the books, he included a glossary – anishinabe words. Vizenor used the only source available at that time – “A Dictionary of the Otchipwe Language” by Bishop Baraga. Vizenor wrote: “Anishinabemowin is a language of verbal forms and word images. The spoken feeling of the language is a moving image of tribal woodland life…the language is euphonious…and the words are descriptive.” You have to imagine what it was like for an Anishinaabe person to read Vizenor’s books. Back then, we didn’t have culture programs or language programs. We lived in the shadow of who we once were. We were "Chippewa" whose identity and language was buried deep under layers of historical trauma and the assimilative policies of the Church and the colonized agenda of the government. Amid the ashes of systematic racism, Vizenor relit the embers and light began to grow in a place of darkened oppression. And, language was a pivotal point in leading one back from a tangent of assimilation to the Path of Life. After reading those books fifty years ago, at age 74 on the Fourth Hill of Life, I am still learning the language. But I would rather still be learning than be an invented person. © Robert DesJarlait, 2020
The Contest Powwow versus the Traditional Powwow and the Role of the Native American Community7/26/2019 By Robert DesJarlait Note: Originally published: WICAZŌ SA REVIEW: A Journal of Native American Studies, Spring 1997, VOL 12 NO 1, The Association for American Indian Research, University of Minnesota Press The Powwow. We are all familiar with it. We grow up with it, and we participate in it as dancers or singers or spectators. For many of us, it is one of the constants in our lives as Ojibwe-Anishinaabe people - from the time we enter the Land of the Living to the time we return homeward to the Spirit World. It connects us to our ancestors, for whom dance was the expression of their soul-spirits made visible and whose traditions teach us that dance extends beyond one's life to the Spirit World, where the chee-jauk (soul-spirits) of all our relatives are made visible by the shimmering lights of their auras as they dance in the northern night skies. Indeed, the stories of our elders tell us that our very creation as Ojibwe-Anishinaabe people is rooted in dance. The dance circle with dancers in feathers, fur, and regalia dancing to olden drum songs is ancient, and it is a commonality that we share with many other tribal nations, including indigenous people worldwide. Through dance we maintain a fundamental part of our connection to our Mother Earth. And whether we are dancers or singers or spectators, when the powwow ends, we walk away from it with a profound sense of well-being. Our hearts have been touched by the dancers, and our souls have been touched by the singers. We have met old friends and made new friends. And we have witnessed and participated in the living traditions of our ancestors. We feel good about who we are and where we came from. Whether we dance, sing, or watch, the powwow makes us proud to be Native American. Among the Southwestern Ojibwe-Anishinaabe of Minnesota and Wisconsin, a powwow is not, however, simply a powwow. It is either a traditional powwow or a contest powwow. In one, we dance socially; in the other, we compete for prize money. For some people, the difference between the two is the same as day from night. The traditional powwow, the powwow that most of us forty- and fifty-somethings grew up with in northern Minnesota, is a community-based, intercultural event primarily composed of local residents and dancers/singers from nearby Ojibwe-Anishinaabe communities. Although OjibweAnishinaabe dancers, singers, and spectators predominate, traditional powwows are also intertribal in that they are open to all dancers, regardless of tribal affiliation. The dance traditions and customs practiced at a traditional powwow are those associated with Ojibwe-Anishinaabe culture. On the other hand, the contest powwow is a community-sponsored, intertribal event predominated by nontribal (i.e., non-Ojibwe) dancers and singers. The dance traditions of contest powwows are those most often associated with Plains cultures. Since its inception in the early 1960s, the contest powwow has effectuated many changes in the dance traditions and infrastructure of the traditional powwow. The Grand Entry dance and Retreat dance are two of the changes. Some changes have provoked controversy within the community. One of the main issues centers on the use of intertribal dance traditions, for example, the Picking-Up-The-Feather dance or the use of eagle bone and wood dance whistles. Although the traditional powwow and the contest powwow are generally perceived to be a part of the same thing - that is, a community dance event with the same attendant dance categories- there is a segment of the community, composed of dancers, singers, and spectators, who draw a distinct line between the two. For many of these people, the opposition to the contest powwow is based on their conviction that the contest powwow undervalues Ojibwe-Anishinaabe dance traditions in the traditional dance circle. Go to almost any Ojibwe-Anishinaabe traditional powwow today and you hear displeasure voiced on how a dropped eagle feather was picked up or how eagle whistles were used. The sentiments of powwow critics are foreshadowed in the words of Ben Black Bear Sr.: "Now in our present lifestyle the people are all alike (similar). So half of the people do not enjoy themselves. Because so many regulations have been made, people cannot have a good time. The people want to enjoy themselves, but cannot. So be it."[1] Black Bear was speaking here, nearly twenty years ago, of the effects wrought by contest dancing in the traditional powwow of the Lakota in the 1970s. At that time, Black Bear was already an elder, an old veteran singer with a traditional Lakota drum group. He was caught between changes as the contest powwow, with its newer dance regalia, newer dance styles, and newer music, began to all but replace the old "good time" traditional powwows, the wacipi, of the Oyate (Lakota/ Dakota/Nakota) people. Yet, despite these great changes, Black Bear perceived competition dance to be a natural outgrowth of the powwow itself. As a singer, contest dance opened new paths for his songs; as a dancer, competition dance opened the way to several championships. Black Bear, however, stressed the importance of knowing one's tribal dance history. With the integration of intertribal traditions in Lakota dance, dance history was vital. Clearly, Black Bear's message was that only by knowing our dance histories are we able to discern the differences, similarities, and relationships of intercultural and intertribal dance traditions. Powwow 101 is, unfortunately, not taught in schools. For most us, what we know about the powwow is based on what we learn while we are at the powwow. Powwow history is essentially an oral history with emcees, veteran dancers, and elders providing the role of narrators. Therefore, what we learn is what we hear. And unless one goes to a lot of powwows, powwow history is, for a majority of spectators, disjointed and confused. The average spectator who goes to one or two powwows a year knows very little of the overall history of dance among his or her own people. What was Ojibwe-Anishinaabe dance like fifty years ago? What was it like a hundred years ago? two hundred years ago? two thousand years ago? Certainly, this lack of general history has resulted in some of the misunderstandings of the powwow today. Let us look briefly then at a history of Ojibwe-Anishinaabe dance and the powwow. Social dance among the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe dates back to the time when the Ojibwe were a part of the Anishinaabe (Woodland) nation and lived on the shores of the Great Salt Waters (the Atlantic Ocean). Dance had always been a vital societal function in Anishinaabe society. Dance sustained and imbued the individual with tribal identity and personal meaning. Anishinaabe dance heritage was an elemental one, one that reached back to the dawn of humankind when Anishinaaba (Original Man), who could not walk or crawl, took his first two steps with his right foot, one harsh, one soft, on Mother Earth. This became the dance step used for Anishinaabe social dance. It is the dance step that is used by today's male traditional dancers. Many Anishinaabe dances of this early period were individual dances received in dream visions; other dances recounted events, deeds, and exploits. Dance was one of the ways that history, beliefs, and customs were handed down to succeeding generations. At that time, the social dance of the Woodland people was called Anishinaabewishimowin. After the Great Migration and the subsequent development of the Ojibwe nation, dance continued to be an integral part of Ojibwe social life. Pre-conquest Ojibwe social dance was called niimiwin. At niimiwin, everyone danced. The people wore their finest clothing and danced to the beat of hand-drums. Niimiwin was a part of the large, month-long, intercultural social gatherings held in the spring - during the sturgeon run- and in the autumn -during the whitefish run. At these gatherings, neighboring Ojibwe communities came to socialize, exchange dances and songs, play games, and barter for arts, crafts, foodstuffs, and materials. In addition to niimiwin, there were also many ceremonial and societal dances that included participation by members of the community. Ceremonial and societal dances provided strength and backbone to the O-do-i-daym (clan system) since participation focused on one's clan affiliation. With the establishment of reservations, niimiwin shifted from seasonal sites to reservation communities. Each community had its own dance circle, where social dances were held during the spring, summer, and fall. Some reservation communities built round dance halls for winter dancing. Dance outfits at reservation niimiwin featured elaborately beaded floral designs on leggings, breechcloths, and bandolier bags for men and on dresses for women. The development of the powwow from 1890 to 1910 marked a changeover period, in which Ojibwe-Anishinaabe social dance made the transition from the traditional pre-conquest period to the modern era, albeit with changes. The older form of social dance, niimiwin, was replaced by a newer form of social dance, the powwow. Powwows were different in that certain dances, with their attendant regalia and dance styles, evolved into dance categories. In other words, dancers wore outfits specific to a particular kind of dance style. This included men's and women's traditional (not to be confused with the contemporary men's and women's traditional categories), jingle dress, war dance, and grass dance. Some of these dance categories were from outside Ojibwe-Anishinaabe culture. Most importantly, this evolving categorization of dances accentuated the shift of social dance from community involvement to individual involvement. This change was apparent by the attendance of Native spectators who lived in the host community. The origin of the powwow is traced back to the Hethushka that developed among Omaha and Ponca warrior societies. Boyd Ladd says, "the powwow dance goes back to a period of 400 years ago to four Omaha warriors. They performed a war dance in celebration of their success, a celebration of their good fortune. . . a dance based in pride."[2] The war dance itself was common among a majority of tribes in the central and northeastern regions of Turtle Island, including the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe. By the early 1800s, the Hethushka dance developed as a nonsecular version of the war dance. The Hethushka were basically drum and dance societies, each with their own songs, singers, and dancers. Hethushka dancers wore their warrior regalia, including roaches, scalps of opponents, and feather belts or bustles. These belts were originally called "crow belts" in reference to the bustle of crow feathers that was worn on the backside. As the dance became secularized, eagle feathers replaced crow feathers, and braided sweetgrass replaced scalps. The most significant change introduced by the Hethushka was the use of large dance drums. Before the advent of the powwow, drums commonly used for social dance were hand-drums. The big drums introduced by the Hethushka significantly altered the course of dance music. The big drums allowed for more singers to participate, thereby changing the tempo, the beat, and the rhythm of dance songs. A new dance evolved from this change in dance music, and spread northward into the central and northern Plains and thence eastward into the northern Great lakes region, in particular southern Ontario. Southern Lakota called this dance the Omaha Dance in reference to its point of origin; northern Lakota called it peji wacipi - the grass dance - in reference to the braided sweetgrass. The latter term became the popular term for these dancers. In other words, those dancers that we call traditional dancers today were originally called grass dancers. In the late 1880s to 1890s, the term grass dancer was replaced with war dancer. This was to distinguish between the newly developing northern grass dance with its faster dance style and distinguishable dance outfit and the dancers who wore eagle feather bustles. Among the Southwestern Ojibwe-Anishinaabe of Minnesota and Wisconsin, the big dance drums were introduced through a related, yet much different source. This was through the gift of the Dream Drum Dance ceremony that was founded on the spiritual vision of a Dakota woman. In Ojibwe-Anishinaabe language she is called Wanaikwe (Tailfeather Woman). In her vision, the Great Spirit taught Wanaikwe about a special drum called the Dream Dance Drum, and the ceremony and songs that were part of the drum. She was instructed on how to build the drum and the objects and items that accompanied it, including four eagle feather belts. To fulfill her vision, Wanaikwe was required to pass the drum and its attendant items to the Ojibwe people. In compliance with the instructions given, Wanaikwe journeyed east and passed the gift of the Dream Drum Dance to the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe. Throughout the woodlands of north-central Minnesota, the Dream Drum ceremony passed from community to community, into central Minnesota and thence eastward to Wisconsin. Each drum had a drum keeper, male singers, a female chorus, and four eagle feather belt dancers. At that time, these drums and eagle feather belts were used only at gatherings of the Dream Drum ceremony. By the mid-1870s, these drums began to be used at social dances, albeit minus the ceremonial songs, dances, and regalia that went with them. Although the Dream Dance drums would effectuate changes in Ojibwe-Anishinaabe social dance that would lead to the evolvement of the powwow, another pivotal factor emerged among the Red Lake Ojibwe-Anishinaabe in the 1880s. The large drums used for the northern grass dance, with its attendant songs, were brought to Red Lake by the Dakota from North Dakota as a means of establishing relationships between the two tribes. With the diminishment of the Dream Drum ceremony in the early 1900s, eagle feather belts and bustles became secularized, thereby allowing for the development of the war dancer classification for Ojibwe dancers. By the late 1960s, largely as a result of the emergence of the contest powwow, the term war dancer was replaced with the term that we use today - traditional dancer. As for the drum ceremony itself, it continues today. Often referred to as the Big Drum ceremony, these gatherings are held in the spring on reservations throughout the Land of the Ojibwe. Many elders regard the Big Drum ceremony as being the true representative of social dance among the Ojibwe people. The contest powwow is generally regarded to have begun in Oklahoma in the mid-1800s, where it developed as a draw for tourists. However, competition in dance-dancers trying to outdo each other or the singers was centuries old among many tribal nations, including the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe and the Oyate nations. The 1950s and early 1960s were the formative years of the modern contest powwow in which the organizational aspects were influenced by the rodeo; the elimination point system, exhibition, day money, grand entry, and retreat are but a few examples. The contest powwow - a powwow that focused entirely on competition for prize money - was something new. The result effectuated at least three major changes in Oyate social dance. The first was that Northern Plains clothing styles predominated, particularly in the men's traditional and grass dance categories. Second, regulations, drawn largely from intertribal traditions, led to powwows, both traditional and contest, becoming formalized events. Lastly, contest powwows became more popular and in many areas replaced traditional powwows. Among the Southwestern Ojibwe-Anishinaabe, the contest powwow developed during the same period, although the changes were not as dramatic. The traditional powwow continued, and continues, to predominate. One of main issues of the contest powwow versus the traditional powwow is the use of intertribal traditions. At many traditional powwows today, intertribal traditions associated with contest powwows are often applied, for example, the Picking-Up-The-Feather dance. Dance traditions that were once tribally specific have become intertribal traditions that are shared by those dancers within their specific dance categories. Men's traditional dancers and jingle dress dancers, for example, have specific responsibilities in regard to their dance category. Thus, it is the dancer's category that often determines the manner of a particular tradition used in the dance circle, for example, the Picking-Up-The-Feather Dance. Obviously, these intertribal traditions often conflict with a host community's customs and traditions. For example, whistle men welcomed in one Ojibwe community may not be welcomed in another Ojibwe community thirty miles away, because some traditions and ceremonies differ between the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe communities themselves. To some critics, Plains dance traditions like whistle dances and feather-pick-up dances seem to predominate and, thus, eclipse Woodland traditions; however, the main distinguishing point is that it is the dancer's choice. And the dancer's choice is dictated by their dance category. This does not mean that the dancer is free to do as he or she chooses. The dancer has an obligation to respect the standards and customs of the host community. Two practices that have been the focus of the controversy are the Picking-Up-The-Feather Dance and the use of eagle bone and wood dance whistles. The former is a dance tradition that began with Omaha dancers, was passed on to war dancers, and was handed down to today's male traditional dancers; the latter is a tradition associated with both the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe people and the Oyate people, although their use of eagle bone and wood dance whistles differs. The Picking-Up-The-Feather Dance occurs when a male dancer has dropped an eagle feather. A spiritual advisor or arena director officiates and chooses four traditional or veteran dancers to dance around the fallen feather. The feather is retrieved, and it is either returned to the dancer or given to the lead dancer who picked it up. Usually, the fate of the feather is at the discretion of the lead dancer. The dancer who dropped the feather often honors the four veterans and the drum by offering monetary and/or tobacco gifts for the dance and the special feather pick-up song, although he is not required to do so. This manner of picking up a feather became an intertribal tradition with the introduction of contest dancing in the early 1960s. A variant of the origin of this dance relates the story of a war party of four warriors who journeyed deep into enemy territory, found a village that was far too strong, were discovered by scouts, and after a harried chase, safely reached their border. That night, one of the warriors discovered his eagle feather was missing, apparently left behind near the enemy village. The four returned there, found the feather, and were captured by hidden foes. They were bound, and as they were led to the village, they sang their death songs for they expected to be put to death. However, upon reaching the village, they were unbound, and a feast was held in honor for their bravery in returning to retrieve the fallen feather. They returned home, laden with provisions and gifts, with peace established between the two communities. There is also an Ojibwe-Anishinaabe variant existent among the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe in Wisconsin. In this variant, four Ojibwe-Anishinaabe warriors on the war road engaged in combat with enemy warriors. One of the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe warriors was killed; the remaining three warriors escaped and left the body of their comrade behind. Returning to their village, they were admonished by their elders for leaving their warrior brother behind. Said the elders, "When you left there were four of you but now there are only three of you. Where is your brother?" After choosing a new warrior to accompany them, the four returned and retrieved the body of the fallen warrior. According to this variant, a dropped feather symbolizes the warrior who fell. Although this Ojibwe-Anishinaabe variant of the Picking-Up-The-Feather Dance exists, is it descended from Omaha traditions? In much the same manner as the Dream Drum, which came from outside Ojibwe-Anishinaabe culture, did the Omaha feather-pick-up at some early point become part of Ojibwe-Anishinaabe dance culture? Or is it part of an earlier tradition that existed when the war dance, though common, was a tribally specific dance, long before the secular version that arose on the Southern Plains? For many people, one of the problems with tribal traditions is the variants that differ from community to community and from tribe to tribe. On many Ojibwe-Anishinaabe reservations, many origin stories of traditions are connected to the local habitat and environment. Thus, who began what where and when can be very confusing. For example, the origin of the jingle dress is attributed to the Mille Lacs Ojibwe, the Red Lake Ojibwe, and the White Fish Bay Ojibwe (Ontario). Elders, however, say that rather than confusion, there should be understanding. They say that what is important is that these things began somewhere and they are now expressed through our culture. In the case of the Picking-Up-The-Feather Dance, the commonality of all the variants is that four warriors did something somewhere. And today we honor this in the dance circle. Traditionally among the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe, the most common custom for picking up a feather was to choose an elder. This elder offered prayer and tobacco to the Four Directions, Grandfather Sun, and Mother Earth. The feather was picked up and returned to the dancer. This is the manner in which feathers were picked up before the advent of contest dancing. It is still used today. At some traditional powwows, the kind of feather often determines the manner in which it will be retrieved. For example, a tail feather or primary wing feather will certainly be picked up by four veterans; on the other hand, a small body feather will be picked up by an elder or a chosen dancer. Gender also plays a role: a female dancer who drops a feather will often choose a woman to retrieve her feather. To some traditional proponents, any fallen eagle feather, regardless of size, should be picked up in the traditional manner rather than In what they perceive as the intertribal manner, that is, by four veterans. Regardless of the variants or opinions, when four of us are chosen, it is in honor of the deed of those four warriors that we dance the Picking-Up-The-Feather Dance. To many who dance in the men's traditional category, it is not that important who began what when. We know in our hearts why we are dancing. Ultimately, what is important is that we have this beautiful and meaningful manner to retrieve a fallen eagle feather. The use of eagle bone or wood dance whistles is a much more complex, controversial issue. There are several variants as to their use, and what is proper conduct in one Ojibwe-Anishinaabe community may be considered improper in another Ojibwe-Anishinaabe community. In many Ojibwe-Anishinaabe communities eagle bone whistles are used only in the Midewiwin Lodge, in particular, in healing ceremonies. Therefore, their use at traditional powwows is seen as improper. In Lakota dance tradition, there are special whistles called "dancer whistles." These whistles, made from wood, are usually the kind of whistles that we hear at the powwow. Although wood whistles usually associated with grass dancers through the grass dance society, whistles are used by grass dancers and fancy dancers as well. Eagle bone and wood dance whistles are very special and very sacred. A dancer-veteran or non-veteran must earn the privilege to carry and use these whistles in the dance circle. Yet, controversy over whistle use prevails in many Ojibwe communities. In some of these communities, the issue is not whistle use per se but rather who is using the whistle, because in these communities only whistles carried by veterans are recognized. To resolve the problem of whistle use, whistle men usually consult with the resident whistle man or arena director of a host community to obtain permission to use their whistles. The issue of integration of intertribal traditions is not limited to the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe powwow. Pan-Indianism is a term long associated with the powwow. The powwow was, and still is, identified as the main representation of Pan-Indianism. The westernized term is used by anthropologists, ethnologists, and historians to describe an aspect of racial awareness in contemporary Native America. The implication of this term is that Native Americans are becoming all the same, that tribes are losing their identities by developing the awareness of who they are as a race. In their opinion, our dance traditions, dances, and dance outfits have become so generalized, homogenized, and Pan-Indianized that one is no longer able to recognize differences. Their consensus is that tribal identity has become a homogeneous generalization, as shown by the similarity of the dance outfits. In other words, in the opinion of those who write our history for us, in our dance regalia we all look alike. The dance outfit – traditional, jingle, grass, fancy - provides continuity with our tribal past and our tribal present. Our dance clothing reminds us of the beauty of our culture and of our race. Through our dance, the dance outfit becomes the art that makes visible the utterance of our soul-spirits. For many spectators, there are certain dancers through whom the utterance of the soul-spirit is made visible. And it is the dance outfit that provides this visibility of the individual to the spectator. For the spectator and the dancer, the dance outfit defines who we are and where we came from. Because our dance clothing has a personal meaning and a spiritual content, we never refer to it as a costume. What we call an Ojibwe-style traditional outfit today can sometimes be difficult to define. Certainly, Northern Plains styles have strongly influenced Ojibwe-Anishinaabe men's traditional regalia. Plains bone hairpipe breastplates, bandolier straps, eagle feather epaulets and visors, and Northern-style eagle feather bustles are a few examples of standardized regalia on an Ojibwe dancer's traditional outfit. To some, these trends have led to a Pan-Indian style in dance outfits. In this mind-set, all dancers look the same way because, presumably, they wear the same outfits. In blinders, these critics see only the roach and the bustle. They fail to look beyond the commonality and see the individuality of the dance outfit. To them, an outfit is merely an ethnic costume that lacks any significant meaning. They fail to see that the dance outfit continues to reflect the culture of origin. Indeed, many of the Northern Plains adaptations of regalia have, in fact, precedent forms among the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe. Breastplates made from wood were worn by Ojibwe-Anishinaabe warriors. Roaches originated among Anishinaabe tribes. And, in a 1830s sketch by George Catlin, Ojibwe-Anishinaabe dancers performing before the Queen of England clearly wear eagle feather belts. This drawing strongly suggests that eagle feather belts were known by the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe before their use by the Omaha/Ponca Hethushka societies. This brings to question who had what first. Seen in this light, Northern Plains regalia adaptations may simply be re-adaptations of regalia that existed among the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe before the development of the Hethushka. Although Northern Plains dance traditions seemingly predominate in the powwow, there are areas where they strongly conflict with Ojibwe-Anishinaabe dance traditions. For example, in some Northern Plains cultures it is permissible for women to sit at a drum and sing with the men. At a 1993 Ojibwe traditional powwow in northern Minnesota, a Dakota drum group called the Rising Hail Singers, composed of a male lead, male co-lead, and four young female singers, received a cool reception by many of the elders and some of the dancers. In Ojibwe-Anishinaabe culture it is not permissible for women to be seated and to sing at a drum; instead, women are allowed to stand outside the drum and provide a chorus for the singers. Thus, the Rising Hail Singers were considered a departure from Ojibwe-Anishinaabe beliefs, and some of the people felt that there was something wrong with a drum with female singers. This was unfortunate because it prevented those listeners from hearing the beautiful songs by this fine drum group. At contest powwows, drum groups with female singers are more common. Popular groups include Cathedral Lake Singers, Little Boy Singers, and the Ironwood Singers. Another example is the carrying of children in the dance circle. At Oyate powwows, it is common for parents to carry their children in their arms as they dance. At Ojibwe-Anishinaabe powwows, however, parents are often publicly admonished by the emcee for carrying their children in the dance circle. This is because to the Ojibwe-Anishinaabe the dance circle represents the Path of Life where all our relatives, past and present, have left their tracks. If a child is carried, then they are not able to leave their own tracks in the dance circle. Yet another example is the custom of some Oyate traditional dancers of dancing counterclockwise around the dance circle. This manner of dancing emphasizes the role of the warrior in protecting and defending the women, children, and elders within the circle. In Ojibwe-Anishinaabe dance, male traditional dancers dance clockwise to follow the movement of the Path of Life that, in turn, follows the movement of Grandfather Sun. It is dance traditions such as these that enable Ojibwe-Anishinaabe traditional powwows to retain and give expression to their separate identity as a dance culture - a dance culture that did not begin with the coming of the powwow, but one that began long ago, when the Earth was new. And it is the role of the community to ensure that our dance traditions continue to be a part of our dance circle. It is often said that you cannot have a powwow without the singers or without the dancers. It can also be said that you cannot have a powwow without the spectators. Spectators form the majority of people at a powwow; in other words, most Indian people watch rather than dance at a powwow. There was a time when everyone danced at social gatherings. With the coming of the powwow at the turn of the century, some individuals became dancers (or singers) and others became spectators. Spectators were, of course, something new to social dance. The powwow itself was not responsible for this segmentation; rather it was the changes in the tribal social structure imposed by forces outside the community, that is, Euro-American oppression through church and government. The development of Native spectators resulted from boarding schools where Native children were prohibited from using their own language and expressing their tribal customs and beliefs. The act of dancing, once an essential part of the inner balance of an individual, no longer had meaning to the individual. The powwow, however, provided an elemental connection between the dancer and the spectator. The individual's racial collective consciousness took visual form through the movements of the dancer. Through the dancer, spectators remembered their ancestors, their clans, their traditions, and their histories. In this regard, the dancer danced for the individual who watched. Those who watch today are no different than those who watched a hundred years ago. Dance connects us - and those who watch - to all those who have danced in the Path of Life through the eons of many moons. The tracks that they have left connect us to the Spirit World and to our relatives who dwell there, to our Earth Mother, to the Four Directions, to our brother eagle, to our clan animal-ancestors, and to the Manidoowiwin Anishinaabe (Tribal Spirit) of our people. For the spectator, the powwow is a personal experience that reaffirms one's sense of identity, cultural self-esteem, well-being, and balance. To some, the issue of intertribal traditions is a simple issue of black and white with no shading of grays, the them and us theme, the old "Chippewa versus Sioux" mentality played over and over again. To others, it is a much deeper issue than the integration of intertribal traditions: they fear that the contest powwow will replace the traditional powwow. Certainly their fear is well founded. By the mid- 1970s, the contest powwow had all but replaced the wacipi, the traditional powwow of the Lakota. However, if anything is to be learned from Powwow 101, it is that the result of the contest powwow has not been to divide different tribal cultures but to bring different tribal cultures together. And it is the Drum, which symbolizes peace and good will between communities, which has brought the people together. And, lest we forget, the Drum came to us from our friends out West. Indeed, without intertribal traditions, we would not have the Drum. It is through that Drum today that our traditional powwows remain strong. Community criticism of the contest powwow is not limited to integration of traditions but also includes commercialization of the powwow, admission fees, dance politics, and biased judging and favoritism. It is, unfortunately, beyond the scope and space of this essay to address those concerns. They are, however, legitimate concerns. Yet, the contest powwow certainly has positive attributes. For the individual dancer, competition dancing helps build confidence, character, stamina, and balance. And competition dancing allows the spectator the opportunity to see the best dancers within their respective categories, great champion dancers like Ben Lovejoy, Nathan Smith, Terry Fiddler, and Jonathan Windy Boy. Lastly, one of the most significant contributions of the contest powwow is the dance music. The songs that we dance to today represent a renaissance in powwow music that embodies a vast repertoire of older traditional songs, many revised and newly composed songs. Indeed, without contest dancing our dance circle would be incomplete. Our traditional powwow continues to predominate; traditional powwows far outnumber contest powwows in Minnesota and Wisconsin. The old songs are still sung and danced to as they shall forever be. Yet, the concerns and criticisms of the community are valid. We need to make sure that our traditional powwows retain and express our tribal-centricity. This does not mean we have to become xenophobic. We need to understand that dance traditions are something that we share, not only with other tribes but within our own tribe as well. With our sharing comes knowledge. We need to understand that our traditions represent continuity through change, and change through continuity. Rather than separating and dividing us, our many varied traditions should bring us together. We need to understand this for ourselves, for our children, and for the coming generations. Dance traditions help inform us as to who we are, where we come from, and where we are going to-individually and racially. And we need to understand who we are as a race, but not through the westernized concepts of what race is. We need to realize that we are not American Indians, but that we are Native Americans, whose vast indigenous domain extends from the Arctic Circle to the tip of South America. We need to understand that our raciality is not based on sameness but rather on our diversity. And it is our cultural traditions that give credence to our diversity. The powwow today continues to exemplify the diversity that exists among us. The traditions -intercultural and intertribal - that form the powwow today enlighten us as to the commonality of who we are as a people. And what this means is that we are not all the same, nor do we have to be. What is important are our shared collective traditions that have formed the beauty that is the powwow today. So be it. NOTES. 1 Ben Black Bear Sr., Songs and Dances of the Lakota, Rosebud, S.D.: Sinte Gleska Press, 1976, 12. 2 Quoted in Chris Roberts, Powwow Country, Helena, Mont.: American and World Geographic Publishing, 1995, 17. © 1997, Robert DesJarlait
Reemergence: Returning to the Circle
July 19 to September 6, 2019 Two Rivers Gallery 1530 E. Franklin Ave. Minneapolis, MN 55404 Robert DesJarlait will exhibit his new series “Reemergence” at Two Rivers Galley located at the Minneapolis American Indian Center. The solo exhibition features 17 new works in mixed watercolor mediums. The exhibit opens on July 19, 6-8 p.m. This is DesJarlait’s first solo exhibition since 1990. In subsequent years, he established a career as an illustrator for Native American organizations and school programs and as a muralist. “Reemergence” marks his return to fine art. In 2013, DesJarlait contracted colon cancer followed by surgery. In 2016, he went through surgery again for recurrence of cancer. “As a Stage IV cancer survivor, reengaging in my art provides a path for healing and has allowed me to return to my roots as a fine artist. The themes and stories of traditional lifestyles and activities that dominated my art in the 1980s are retold from a fresh perspective of a renewal of life. My Reemergence Series is a testament of resiliency in facing the Asabikeshiinh (Spider) within.” DesJarlait is from the Red Lake Ojibwe Nation and currently lives at Onamia, MN. Contact Information: Telephone: 218-380-8491 Email Address: [email protected] A few weeks ago, I was looking at my father’s art for an art project I’m working on and I was referencing the floral motifs he used in his work that focused on dancers. One particular work that caught my attention was War Dancers from 1964. I think when you look at his oeuvre of powwow dancers - War Dancers, The Chippewa Dancers (1968), The Chippewa Hoop Dancer (1968), Chippewa Dancer (1964) – the observer has a tendency to see the overall images and miss some of the finer detail in the regalia that the dancers are wearing. One is aware of the floral motifs but the eye wanders over them and doesn’t really connect with the detail. It’s understandable since an observer is taken in by the rich array of colors of his work. Indeed, the color arrangements are unlike men’s dance regalia from the 1960s. What the observer sees is a rich palette of colors that forms the aesthetic of a modern Native American artist. And the results are colors that form and shape the regalia in brilliant hues. In retrospect, his colors are something of a paradox, at least a paradox at the time the dancers were painted. Consider War Dancers. In this work, we see eagle feather bustles that are pink, green, and yellow-gold; green and yellow-gold eagle fans; and yellow, pink, and blue anklets which, at that time, were commonly white or red. Even in the roaches that, in the 60s, were red, we see an array of colors – reddish-brown, blue, brownish-gold. And then there are the floral motifs. One might assume that he simply painted the floral designs that he saw at powwows, and that he used books that featured floral designs. However, he couldn’t really access books since books with floral designs weren’t available in the 60s. So, he had to rely on what he observed at powwows. Obviously, he had a sharp memory given the floral motifs in his work. However, he was making his own floral designs based on the images that were stored in his memory. He was like a bandolier bag maker from the late 1800s and used paint instead of beads to make his arrangements. He had to adapt floral forms to paint in the same way that bandolier beaders adapted beads from the traditional form of quills. In this way, he wasn’t simply copying floral designs – he was creating his own floral forms. One particular floral motif that caught my eye in War Dancers is a leaf divided into four colors that are separated by the vein in the leaf. It reminded me of a bandolier bag that features red and blue leaves. Those red and blue leaves have always mystified me. They are such a departure from bandolier color aesthetics. How and why did the bandolier bag artist make such a departure? We know leaves aren’t a deep, solid red or blue. But this particular artist decided that they can be red or blue. Those red and blue leaves go beyond the norm of color used then and represent a step into modernism – at a time when modernism was unknown to Ojibwe bandolier artists. In that sense, modernism is the next logical step in art. This particular bandolier artist was expressing modernism in terms of color. Most interestingly, those leaves strongly connect to Fauvism although, as noted, such art was unknown to Ojibwe artists. My father’s four-colored leaf offers yet another parallel in terms of color aesthetics. In his palette, we see an array of leaf colors – blue, red, gold. But the four-colored leaf is a departure. In this particular leaf, we see four colors – light blue, light green, yellow, and pink – divided by the vein. A variation of the leaf on a dancers’ armband rearranges the colors to green, yellow, light blue, and red. There are also leaf variations on the dance aprons including one with green, white, blue, and yellow. Unlike the bandolier artist who didn’t have exposure to modern art, my father did. He was familiar with Mexican muralism, Cubism, and Fauvism. And he is, of course, considered the first Native American modernist artist. Yet, the four-colored leaf represents something different. Like the red and blue bandolier leaves, the four-colored leaf also intrigues me. It seems like a logical step for him to take, but what a step it was to go beyond the norm and create something new. In hindsight, I like to think that my father was something of a visionary in regard to regalia color. At a time when these colors were virtually unknown in regalia, they have become common today. I’m not suggesting that he had any influence on today’s colors. In the powwow world, the vast array of brilliant, beautiful colors was the next logical step into the modern powwow. The four-colored leaf, painted fifty-five years ago, was a vision of what was to come. Detail - Armband, "War Dancers," ca. 1964 Detail - Dance Apron, "War Dancers," ca. 1964 © 2019, Robert DesJarlait
Standing Rock / Photo by No Spiritual Surrender What are the lessons to be learned from Nathan Phillips? Do they teach us to respond with violent intent when confronted with racial arrogance? Some seem to think so. Among the many opinions that I’ve read, there are those who would prefer to physically strike the face of the enemy. To some extent, such a response is understandable. After all, we live in a time when racism is abroad and permeates the very fabric of our lives. This is nothing new. Racism has been a part of our lives ever since the oppressors first stepped foot on the indigenous lands of the Americas 526 years ago. Our tribal collective consciousness has been imprinted with the traumas of genocide, ecocide, linguicide, enforced assimilation, and the theft of our homelands. Striking out in anger and hate seems like a reasonable response. However, this isn’t what Nathan Phillips teaches us. He teaches us as an elder teaches us because he is, after all, an elder. One who has experienced the ravages of war and who stood on the front lines at Standing Rock. One who has experienced racism and prejudice. On that day memorable day in Washington, Nathan Phillips was, to me, the embodiment of the Seven Grandfather Teachings of the Anishinaabeg, teachings that have guided our soul-spirits through the countless ages. Zoogide’iwin (Courage): Zoogide’iwin is to face the foe with integrity. We face life with the courage to use our personal strengths to face difficulties, stand tall through adversity, and make positive choices. We must stand up for our convictions and have courage in our thinking and speaking. All of these actions together will lead to ceaseless bravery. Gwayakwaadiziwin (Honesty): Gwayakwaadiziwin is to be honest in every action we take. Honesty in facing a situation is to be brave. Always be honest in word and action. Be honest first with yourself, and you will more easily be able to be honest with others. Debasendizowin (Humility): Debasendizowin is to know yourself as a sacred part of the Creation. We must always consider ourselves equal to one another. We should never think of ourselves as being better or worse than anyone else. Humility comes in many forms. This includes compassion, calmness, meekness, gentleness, and patience. We must reflect on how we want to present ourselves to those around us. We must be aware of the balance and equality with all of life, including humans, plants, and animals. Manaaji'idiwin (Respect): To honor all of the Creation is to have Manaaji'idiwin. All of creation should be treated with respect. We must give respect if we wish to be respected. There should be no part of creation that should be excluded from the honor that we are to give. We demonstrate respect by realizing the value of all people and things, and by showing courteous consideration and appreciation. Respect is not just an action, but a heart-grown feeling. Zaagi'idiwin (Love): To know Zaagi'idiwin is to know peace. To know peace is to know Love. Love must be unconditional. For one to love and accept themselves is to live at peace with the Creator and in harmony with all of creation. Love knows no bounds. We must accept it sincerely and give it freely. Nibwaakaawin (Wisdom): To cherish knowledge is to know Nibwaakaawin. Wisdom is given by the Creator to be used for the good of the people. We must remember to listen and use the wisdom that has been provided by our elders and our spiritual leaders. Debwewin (Truth): Debwewin is to know all of these things. Speak the truth. Do not deceive yourself or others. Truth is having the knowledge of our cultural teachings. It gives us the ability to act without regret. We must understand, speak, and feel the truth, while also honoring its power. All those teachings were in full view on that day before the Lincoln Memorial. They were like a tribal collective vision, one that reminded us of who we are and where we came from. Unlike the Trump MAGA Youth that surrounded him, Phillips didn’t teach us hate and intolerance of another race. In those confrontational moments, the young white men also provided a teaching, a teaching of what a life is like that is lived in absence of the Seven Teachings. Lives lived without courage, honesty, humility, respect, love, wisdom, and truth. An inconvenient truth is a warrior does not respond like to like. Rather, a warrior responds with zhawenim (compassion) and in doing so understands the nature of his enemy. This is what Phillips, and the Seven Teachings, teach us. We are warriors of prayer, not violence and hate. If we overlook the Seven Teachings, then we become like them and the Creation becomes meaningless. Before the taunting leer of Trump’s racist America, Nathan Phillips stood strongly and resiliently, not as one but for all of us. His medicine song was our song, one that has been sung since the Earth was new. His drumbeat was our heartbeat, one that has beat from the time Original Man walked upon Mother Earth. Our ancestral heartbeat has never stopped beating and we have never stopped walking. Nathan Philips reminds of this. © 2019, Robert DesJarlait
© Photo, No Spiritual Surrender By Robert DesJarlait Introduction Métissage is the racial ideology that forms the basis of the identity of the Métis in regard to the notion of race. In other words, the ideology forms the basis of the belief that the Métis are a race. This notion of race can be found in publications published by various Métis writers, organizations and associations in Canada. For example, Adrian Hope, a founding member and former president of the Métis Association of Alberta, wrote: “The Métis...are the best of two peoples. The early explorers and fur traders were the strongest, bravest and most adventuresome of the European Male, as the weaklings did not last long in this world. The ones that remained selected the strongest and most beautiful of the Indian woman as their mates, and we are the children of these unions.”(1) To reinforce his racial thesis, Hope noted that, “until recently, ranchers are of the belief that the raising of purebred livestock was the only route to go, but lately have found out that cross-breeding results in a much better offspring. That is what we Métis are, better.”(2) The ideological nucleus for contemporary Métis thought -- i.e., Métis as race -- is found in the words of Louis Riel, who sought to establish a separate Métis nation in what is now Manitoba. Riel’s writings have given impetus to the nationalistic fervor that marks Métissage today. Although Métissage is usually associated with Canada, it has developed adherents in the United States. There is also the notion that the Métis consider themselves as an indigenous people. This notion is based on virtue of the fact that the Métis are a mixed heritage people; that is, a people whose heritages are a mixture of European and Native American heritages. In the United States, this has been given a broader definition -- i.e., any person with a mixture of European, Asian, or black and Native American heritage is Métis. This essay concerns itself with the question of -- who are the Métis? More specifically, who are the Métis in terms of race, ethnicity, and culture? Are the Métis an indigenous entity? And, most importantly, do the Métis have a rightful claim to sovereignty? Much of this paper deals with labels. These labels are used by social scientists and anthropologists to define and conceptualize the social realities and diversities of human beings. The definitions that these labels provide are not absolutes. What one terms and defines as, for example, race, culture, or ethnicity may be termed and defined differently by another. Thus, the methodology is arranged in a manner that the writer feels best fits the definitions of race, culture, and ethnicity in relation to the topic. I Race The foremost question is - are the Métis a race? Contemporary terminology would identify the Métis as biracial. Yet this label poses several problems. In particular, biracial assumes that race is a biological fact. More specifically, biracial implies that an individual is the result of two races. However, there is no biological basis to race -- i.e., there is no scientific evidence that race exists. Contemporary notions of race were first established by Swedish botanist and taxonomist Carolus Linnaeus in 1758. According to the Linnaean system, human beings are all members of the kingdom Animalia, the phylum Chordata, the class Mammalia, the order Primates, the family Homididae, the genus Homo, and the species Homo sapiens.(3) Linnaeus then divided the species Homo sapiens into four basic varieties - Americanus (American), Europaeus (European), Asiaticus (Asian), and Afer (African).(4) He applied the four humors that reflected the medieval theory that a person’s temperament arises from a balance of four fluids. For the American, he wrote: rufus, cholericus, rectus (red, choleric, upright); the European, albus, sanquineus, torosus (white, sanguine, muscular); the Asian, luridus, melancholicus, rigidus (pale yellow, melancholy, stiff); and the African, niger, phlegmaticus, laxus (black, phlegmatic, relaxed).(5) Linnaeus further divided the four varieties into behaviors -- American was regitur consuetudine (ruled by habit); European was regitur ritibus (ruled by custom); Asian was regitur opinionibus (ruled by belief); and, African was regitur arbitrio (ruled by caprice).(6) Essentially, what Linnaeus had done was to create the four races of man, each with attributes that were specific to the race and each with its own color -- red for the American, white for the European, yellow for the Asian, and black for the African. In 1775, his student, Johann Friedrich Blumenbach, refined the Linnaean system by adding a fifth “race,” and, most importantly, “singled out a particular group as closest to the created ideal and then characterized all other groups by relative degrees of departure from this archetypal standard”(7) Blumenbach chose to name this ideal group, Caucasian. Thus, the notion of race was not based on biological fact. Eighty years later, Darwinism strengthened the notion of “race.” It was not Darwin himself who developed a racial ideology of the “survival of the fittest,”; rather, it was his adherents, i.e., the social Dawinists, who took the Darwin’s ideas of natural selection and, combined with Blumenbach’s ideal archetype and Judeo-Christian ethics, developed a racial scheme that solidified and institutionalized the idealism of race. Thus, race as we know it, is a social construct derived mainly from perceptions conditioned by the events of recorded history, and it has no basic biological validity.(8) It is nothing more than a social, cultural, and political invention.(9) There are no pure “races,” and no other groups are physically, intellectually, or morally superior to others.(10) However, as the case of the Métis attests, race nevertheless forms the basis of identity for both the individual and the group. If race is not a biological reality, then why is race a factor in social reality? Race as a social and political construct allows for the dominance of one group over another. In the dominant group, racial distinctions become a tool of domination. “Putting simple, neat racial labels on dominated peoples -- and creating negative myths about the moral qualities of those peoples -- makes it easier for the dominators to ignore the individual humanity of their victims. It eases the guilt of oppression.”(11) We need to look no further than North America to witness the social construct of race as a tool of oppression. The colonization of the American Indian speaks volumes of race, used as a social and political construct, for the dominance of one group over another. Europeans and Euro-Americans alike sought domination over an indigenous population that was labeled as “pagan,” “savages,” “uncivilized,” “unclean,” and “immoral.” Even those who sought to have a biological connection to the American Indian expressed the sentiments of the colonialist. In the words of Louis Riel, the “father” of Métissage: “The Metis, because of their superiority over the Indian tribes, dominated them. With God’s help, they were always victorious over the tribes who attacked them. The Metis are the men who, with arms, tamed the Indian nations and then pacified them, maintaining good relations with them in favour of peace. It is they [the Metis] who, at the price of their blood, brought tranquillity to the North-West.”(12) Riel’s statements contains all the terminology of the dominator. The Métis dominated them; the Métis tamed them; the Métis pacified them. A racial ideology was important factor in establishing Métis identity. Riel firmly stated this ideology of Métis as race when he wrote: “The French word Metis is derived from the Latin participle of mixtus which means ‘mixed.’ The word expresses the idea of this mixture in as satisfactory a way as possible and becomes, by that fact, a suitable name for our race.” (italics mine.)(13) Certainly Riel was correct in adopting Métis as a group label. These people were, after all, a people of mixed heritage that shared commonalties. In particular, they were the descendants of French fathers and Ojibwe or Cree mothers. Métis was one of several labels that were used for these people of mixed heritage; other labels included half-breed and Bois Brules. But the union of two heritages did not equate equality of those heritages. Rather, one dominated the other. This notion of superiority of one over the other was made clear by Riel: “I remembered that half-breed meant white and Indian and...I remembered that the greatest part of my heart and blood was white”(14) In her brilliant essay, End of the Failed Metaphor, Elizabeth Cook-Lynn writes: I read quite by accident “The New World Man,” an essay by the gifted, Spanish-speaking novelist Rudolfo Anaya...Anaya says that the people of the Southwest are the “fruit of the Spanish Father and the Indian Mother.” He alternately labels them Hispanic and Chicano. He glorifies Malinche, who was the first Indian woman of Mexico to bear children fathered by a Spaniard. Without talking much about the fact that she was a captive of men and had little free choice in the matter of who was to father her children, Anaya says “in our mothers is embodied the archetype of the indigenous Indian Mother of the Americas” He describes his duality in this way: “The Spanish character is the aggressive, conquest-oriented part of our identity; the Native American nature is the more harmonious, earth-oriented side.” He calls for the assimilation of those two natures. The fragility of this resolution lies in Anaya’s willful dismissal of indigenous myth. Yet he must know that there are no versions of origin, no discussions of wisdom, goodness, kindness, hospitality, nor any of the other virtues of indigenous, tribal society without the seed, and spirit, and power of the indigenous fathers. To accept the indigenous woman’s role as the willing and cooperating recipient of the colonist’s seed and as the lone repositor of culture is to legitimize the destruction of ancient religions, the murder of entire peoples, the rape of the land, not to mention the out-and-out theft of vast native homelands. To do so dismisses the centuries of our modern American Indian histories when our fathers fought and died and made treaties in order to save us from total annihilation.(15) The New World Man that Anaya spoke of -- who, in the language of the colonizer was called Mestizo -- was not found only in the Southwest. He was also found in the woodlands of Canada. Like his Spanish brother to the south, he spread his seed amongst the indigenous women of the north. Even the label by which these two mixed heritage New World Men applied to their myth of race was similar - Mestizo and Métis. However, unlike his Mestizo brothers, the Métis did not have a Malinche. There was no one indigenous woman who served as the archetype. Indeed, the archetype was hidden beneath a cloak of humor. Among the voyageurs was a centuries old joke. “How long after the first Frenchman stepped ashore was the first half-breed born?” The answer -- “Nine months.” In reality, intermarriages in the colonies and eastern settlements were few and far between. The 1686 census of New France/Acadia lists two intermarriages out of a population of 1,677.(16) The Dictionnarie Genealogique des Familles Canadiennes, a 1700 census of the Province of Quebec, lists a population of over 26,000; only 94 intermarriages are listed.(17) It was in the hinderlands, far away from community and family, that the men of the colonies found the nameless Indian Mother. This nameless archetype was not found in one Indian Mother; it was, rather, found in the women of one particular tribe. “The Crees were especially favored because the white men found their women more attractive, more dependable morally...and more intelligent than those of other tribes”(18) Through marriage, the French progenitor male established economic ties with tribes in the interior. These marriages were according to “the custom of the country.” In 1800, voyageur Daniel Harmon wrote in his journal: “This evening, Mons. Mayotte took a woman of this country for a wife, or rather a concubine. All the ceremonies attending such an event, are the following. When a person is desirous of taking one of the daughters of the Natives, as a companion, he makes a present to the parents of the damsel, of such articles as he supposes will be most acceptable...should the parents accept the articles offered, the girl remains at the fort of her suitor, and is clothed in the Canadian fashion.”(19) Half-breed girls were especially desirable. Through the seed of the progenitor male, the proportion of Indian blood in the offspring gradually declined and the term “half-breed” became inaccurate. It was at this point, in the 1850s, that the term Métis was applied to describe the New World Man of the North, a term that reflected the diminishing indigenous bond with the Indian Mother. II Culture and Ethnicity Mixed-heritage individuals are those whose ancestry is derived from more than one social group. Heritage, as used here, implies culture and/or ethnicity that is passed on to a succeeding generation. The term culture itself has a myriad of meanings and definitions. As a anthropological concept in regard to indigenous culture, culture can be defined as: The...“complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, law, morals, custom, and any other capabilities and habits acquired by [humans] as a member of [a] society”(20) Further, it is the biosphere that the indigenous society arises that influences and is reflected in the knowledge, beliefs, arts, laws, morals, customs of the indigenous society. Indigenous is defined as: communities, peoples, and nations...which, having a historical continuity with pre-invasion and pre-colonial societies that developed on their territories, consider themselves distinct from other sectors of the societies now prevailing in those territories, or parts of them. Together, indigenous and culture mean the original cultures of a specific land area before colonization or conquest. Ethnicity, on the other hand, can be regarded as a group identity that is formed by cultures that have, through the historical process, coalesced into a homogenous grouping of peoples located within a specific geographical area. These groups “belong to a relatively distinctive sociological type. This is a group the members which have, both with respect to their own sentiments and those of non-members, a distinctive identity which is rooted in some kind of a distinctive sense of its history. An ethnic group is...always a group consisting of members of all ages and both sexes and ethnicity is always shared by forebears at some level. It is thus a transgenerational type of group.”(21) Ethnicity is not in itself an absolute. Ethnicity can remerge into a newer synthesis of ethnic pluralism and identity. For example, both the United States and Canada exemplify a reemergence of immigrant ethnic groups into contemporary ethnic entities. Ethnicity can dissolve and reemerge into new groups and identities. An example is Ojibwé-Anishinaabé. Many non-Ojibwe people, Indian and white alike, assume that Ojibwé and Anishinaabé mean one and the same. To some extent, this is true. However, Ojibwé and Anishinaabé are distinct terms. Ojibwé people are Anishinaabé people -- but then so are fifty-one other indigenous culture groups. A partial listing of these groups includes the Arapaho, Cheyenne, Blackfeet, Gros Ventre, Cree, Fox and Sauk, Potawatomi, Menominee, Shawnee, Kickapoo, Ottawa, Abnaki, Algonkin, Micmac, Pequot, Mahican, Powhatan, and Wampanoag. These indigenous groups at one time formed one group called the Anishinaabé, meaning human being. The Anishinaabé inhabited the area that now forms present-day New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and Maine. In approximately 900 AD, many Anishinaabé subgroups began to migrate eastward. Although anthropologists would label these groups as separate indigenous cultures, they were essentially subgroups who, in their new biospheres, developed into autonomous tribal cultures. Whereas they developed group identities that reflected their environments, their reemerging cultural modes of existence reflected customs, traditions, ceremonies, and language associated with an Anishinaabé group identity. In essence, these reemerging cultures represented an Anishinaabé ethnicity. They were the progeny of a nation -- i.e., a community based on common descent, territory, history, language, religion, and a way of life.(*) In this context, Ojibwé -- an Anishinaabé word meaning Keepers of the Scrolls -- would be considered the cultural label, and Anishinaabé the ethnic label. It is largely the Anishinaabé peoples that the Métis claimed descent from. And, it was through the intermarriages of European nationalities with indigenous cultures that the mixed offspring of these unions have claimed themselves an indigenous group of people, i.e., indigenous in the same sense as Indian peoples. Does the historical process support and validate this claim to an indigenous identity? III Colonialism Colonialism is the formal establishment and maintenance of domination by a foreign sovereign power over an indigenous population, to exploit them economically, through the establishment colonies and the suppression of human rights. The age of modern colonialism in the Western Hemisphere began in 1492. By the fictive doctrines of discovery, conquest, and settlement, the emerging nation-states of Portugal, Spain, France, and England imposed European institutions and culture on indigenous peoples and lands. In 1534, under the fictive doctrines of discovery, Jacques Cartier lay claim to the St. Lawrence River, and its shores, for the French Crown. In 1604 and 1608, Samuel de Champlain established the first French colonies in New France - Acadia and Quebec. In 1627, the French government initiated its colonial policy through the Company of New France. Mercantilism was the main policy of colonial control. “Mercantilism was characterized by state control over the economy to protect the interests of the country that implemented the policy. It operated on the basic premise that there was a finite amount of wealth in the world and that each nations had to compete for its share...The colonies, acting as extensions of a given country, helped them achieve self-sufficiency by providing that could not only be sold back to the colonies as finished goods and also to other countries. At its heart, mercantilism equated money and power, making the prime objective of any country the acquisition of as much wealth as possible.”(22) Fur was the main resource that formed the basis of the mercantilism system in New France. The initial European colonialism model that was established in New France was the boreal riverine empire. Colonies were established along river systems; the larger and longer the river, the more valuable the empire. In the boreal riverine model, a main colonial port -- for the export of furs -- was established, e.g., Quebec. Outlying trading posts were connected to the main port through interconnected river systems.(23) In 1663, New France became a royal province. The boreal riverine empire model evolved into the European colonialism model called the settler empire. Under this model colonial ports became colonial cities whose export-oriented economies depended economically, administratively, and militarily on their respective colonial powers.(24) In New France, “grants of land, called seigneuries, with frontages on the St. Lawrence, were apportioned to proprietors, who then allotted holdings to small farmers, or habitants. [As] more land came under cultivation...the white population grew.”(25) Both the bovine riverine empire and the settler empire modes of colonialism co-existed. As the eastern colonies transformed into the settler empires, the bovine riverine empires reestablished themselves on the peripherals of colonial empire. At the heart of the bovine riverine empire were the fur traders. “The term voyageur, a French word meaning “traveler,” was applied originally...to all explorers, fur-traders, and travelers.”(26) More specifically, the voyageurs were the men who manned the canoes. “Voyageurs formed a class as distinct in dress, customs, and traditions as sailors or lumberjacks.”(27) They came from the settlements in New France and served as subtraders in trading expeditions. Typically, these expeditions ranged from three months to three years. The voyageurs adapted the birch bark canoe as their mode of transportation on the riverways. Cultural borrowings from American Indian tribes included pemmican -- a dried foodstuff composed of venison and berries. Pemmican later became exploited as a commodity in the lucrative fur-trade economy. The voyageur was one of the founding factors in the development of Canada. To the voyageur is given credit for the naming of the lake and rivers in the Northwest. The woodlands through which their canoes roamed were seen as largely devoid of human habitation. “Obviously, civilized man found it incredible that such a bounteous empire as the northern mid-continent basin should have been uninhabited save by “savages...’”(28) In the Euro-centric paradigm of “discovery,” indigenous lands were considered Terra Nullius. In this paradigm, rivers, lakes, land formations did not have names. There were no people, save for a few “savages.” Hence, it was land for the taking. This paradigm served as an effective tool of the colonialzing invader. Despite the historical fact that the lakes, rivers, streams, mountains, and land formations had names in indigenous tongues, and despite human presence for thousands of years by indigenous peoples, the renaming of the land in the colonizer’s tongue, and the reduction of indigenous inhabitants to a few “savages,” made is easier for domination and oppression to occur. By renaming the land, the land, in essence, became the land of the colonizer. This subversion of indigenous people went much deeper. It also included the sexual exploitation and sexual oppression of the life-givers of the original peoples - the women. The idea that the voyageurs sexually exploited indigenous women is never considered in the literature of the voyageurs. Rather, the literature focuses on adventuresome and daring nature of the voyageurs. The typical voyageur was married with children and left his family behind in Montréal. Indeed, between 1708 to 1717, nearly one quarter of the entire male population of Montréal annually made the trip to the fur regions of the Northwest. The seigneuries of other regions show various figures of men engaged in the expeditions, figures that range from 55% to 20 %.(29) Sex was a strong lure for men in the vast woodlands. One writer states: “Voyageurs, traders...and explorers all felt the call of nature in their loins and so, took wives...one can almost be positive a wife was to be had and children raised if a man remained in the [fur] service for several years.”(30) As one voyageur boasted...”I have been forty-two years in this country. I have had twelve wives...There is no life so happy as a Voyageur’s; none so independent, no place where a man enjoys so much variety and freedom as in the Indian country.”(31) However, the sexual exploitation of indigenous women could only be hidden under the veneer of wilderness romanticism for so long. Jackie Lynne writes: Several powerful aspects of colonialization imposed upon First Nations women which changed our lives were capitalism (mercantilism), the church, the state, and the military. All these forces systematically created women’s subservience to men. For example, European colonizers intended to accumulate capital through the production and circulation of commodities. Fur was the main attraction to Canada, and First Nations women were especially essential to the fur traders. The Europeans used the presence and influence of First Nations women to penetrate new territories and secure new markets. Thus, First Nations women were integral to the creation of commodity production. However, their position in that new society was one of slave. For example, in 1714, a Hudson’s Bay Company officer, as part of an expansionist strategy, “obtained” a Chipewyan woman whom he referred to as “slave woman.” He kept her with him for two years so that she might learn their system of commodity exchange and the value of British goods and private property. She was then sent into the interior to recruit Chipewyan people to come to York Factory and begin trade. Her confinement to the fort was a form of hostage-taking where she was forced to accept the Western values of capital and private property. As First Nations society became transformed through a policy of capitalism, First Nations women were also sexually commodified. Women were purchased through a system of exchange. For example, women were bought by alcohol, and other European goods. In the first century of the Hudson’s Bay Company, European women were not allowed to travel or to live in Canada known as Rupert’s Land at that time. Neither were mixed family formations allowed in or around the fur trade posts. This further encouraged relations of dominion as European males used First Nations women for sex. ....Some took First Nations women as their “country wives,” lived with them and had children. While on the surface, this seems like a respectable practice, all too often these women and their children were abandoned by the white men at a later date. The phenomenon of the “country wife” was a form of sexual exploitation which was used by the officer class, and was a more subtle form of sexual exploitation. In these relationships, First Nations women were concubines -- secondary wives without legal sanctions. These relationships, particularly when First Nations women became dependent on white men, created serious differences between First Nations women, and their culture. “Country wives” and their children were not deemed legitimate property of men by English common law. Therefore, these families were abandoned.(32) Anaya’s mythical paradigm of the Indian Mother had been, in the North, reduced to a captive of men who had not only violated her, but turned her into a object of scorn among her own people. And it was the children of these unions that Louis Riel reached out to and, through whom, he ignited the flame of ethnicity. IV Development of an Ethnicity As a result of the French and Indian War of 1754-63, France lost its colonizing control in Canada. England annexed New France and began to develop its dominion of Canada; in 1867, the English passed the British North American Act and the Confederation of Canada was established. The Dominion of Canada united Quebec, Ontario, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick. Rupert’s Land, a vast territory located in northern and western Canada, remained in control of Hudson’s Bay Company. The territory had been chartered, in 1670, to Hudson’s Bay Company by King Charles II of England. In 1811-12, a colony was founded in the Red and Assiniboine river valleys. The official name of the colony was Assiniboia. According to Métis historians, the Métis, as an ethnicity, began with the Seven Oaks Battle on June 19, 1816. The Seven Oaks Battle resulted from a conflict between Métis employees of the North West Company and a militia of Hudson’s Bay Company employees. Of the 25 militia soldiers, twenty were killed. The Métis victory “freed trade from the restraints which governments and private monopoly sought to impose on it”(33) In essence, the victory gave the Métis free rein to exploit the resources in the Red River valley region and to sell those commodities in the free trade market. Joseph Kinsey Howard writes: “...their conception, slowly developed after Seven Oaks, of their race as unique and dynamic. This was the basic determinant of their destiny...”(34) By the 1830s, the Métis formed a distinct group identity based on Euro-American and Indian cultural characteristics. Indian cultural characteristics and borrowings included beaded floral art forms influenced by Ojibwe and Cree art. The renown Métis woven yarn sash was an adaptation of Ojibwe sashes that, before Euro-American contact, were woven from plant fibers. Their language, called Michif, was formed by a pidgin vocabulary of French, Ojibwe and Cree words. Known for their expertise in the fur trade, the Métis additionally established a trade based on pemmican, a dried foodstuff used for thousands of years by North American tribes. With the decline of the fur market, the Métis began exploiting the buffalo herds. In their annual hunts, the Métis slaughtered buffalo by the hundreds and established a thriving trade in buffalo hides. In 1836, Hudson’s Bay Company bought back the colony and created the District of Assiniboia. After the creation of the Dominion of Canada, England began to initiate policies that would annex the northwest, including the District of Assiniboia. The District of Assiniboia was composed of Métis, French, English, and Scots. The Red River colony itself was composed largely of Métis. The Métis formed over one half of the population in Assiniboia. The Métis opened trade routes to St. Paul, Minnesota. By 1856, trains of two to three hundred ox carts freighted goods to and from St. Paul and the Red River settlements. These ox trains carried furs, pemmican, dried buffalo meat, moccasins and skin garments. On their return, they brought foods, tobacco, dry goods, ammunition and farm implements. In 1868, the English passed the Rupert’s Land Act. The act called for the surrender of lands, rights, privileges, liberties, franchises, powers and authorities within Rupert’s Land and for the admission of Rupert’s Land into the Dominion of Canada. Led by Louis Riel, the Red River colony responded by setting up a provisional government that would represent the District of Assiniboia. Under the Declaration of the People of Rupert’s Land and the North West of 1869, the colony sought to establish a governmental entity that would be recognized when united with Canada. In addition, Riel and his council issued a Bill of Rights. Article 11 reads: Treaties to be concluded and ratified between the Government and several Indian tribes of Indians of this Territory, calculated to insure peace in the future.(35) According to one Métis historian, these acts were “promulgated in the name of the ‘New Nation’. The Bill of Rights gave the Métis ‘moral justification,’ and the declaration provided a legal basis for the movement. These documents claimed sovereignty for the Métis people, who then elected Riel as the president of the new nation.”(36) Although the acts are often cited as clear evidence of the establishment of a Métis “Nation,” nowhere in the documents does the name Métis appear. If it had been the intention of Riel to establish a separate, sovereign Métis nation, as Métis historians contend, then why wasn’t the bill of rights titled the Métis Bill of Rights?; or why wasn’t the Declaration of People Act titled the Declaration of the Métis of Rupert’s Land and the North West? The answer is that Assiniboia was not exclusively populated by Métis people. Certainly, the provisional government council would be tabled by a strong representation of Métis people, and the president would be Métis. Yet, Riel knew that all privileges, customs, and usage within the territory had to be respected. This included not only the Métis but the other Euro-Canadians who represented just under half of the population of Assiniboia. To guarantee their support, the Bill of Rights provided for a free homestead pre-emption law. Indigenous peoples were not accorded equal rights under the Bill of Rights. As stated, treaties would continue to be negotiated in the same manner used by the colonializing powers. However, treaties were nothing more than fictive legal documents that appropriated tribal lands with the “surplus” lands opening for settlement by settlers. Presumably, Riel’s strategy would mirror the methods of colonialism as a means of attaining title to indigenous lands. In the end, Riel failed to establish a separate province for the peoples of Assiniboia. Following the annexation of the Rupert’s Land by Canada in 1870, and establishing Manitoba, in place of Assiniboia, as a province, the political economy of the Metis was destroyed. The Canadian government then extinguished Métis claims to title through individual land and grants scrip. In 1871, Riel went into exile in the United States for his execution of Thomas Scott during the Rebellion. Nine years later, Riel returned to Canada at the request of Métis in Saskatchewan. His return led to the failed 1885 Rebellion. It was during this second rebellion that Riel solidified the ideology of the Métis as race. However, in the interim period, Riel had spent time in two mental institutions and he had undergone a spiritual experience that left him with Messianic delusions. Riel described this experience: “...The same spirit who showed himself to Moses in the midst of fire and cloud appeared to me in the same manner. I was stupefied; I was confused. He said to me, ‘Rise up, Louis David Riel. You have a mission to fulfill.’ Stretching out my arms and bending my head, I received this heavenly messenger.”(37) Indeed, at the Métis community of Batoche, the priests, who had refused to cede to Riel’s demands, were held captive and Riel, in their place, performed mass. Riel used the pulpit to harangue his followers. During one such service, Riel said: “Look! Look at those devils murdering your whole nation, see your wives and daughters ravished before your streaming eyes, your children tortured, dishonored, disemboweled by the savage soldiers paid to destroy the half-breed nation! To arms! Or will you crouch and submit? God tells you to follow me; the Holy Ghost is with me in my person. Courage; we will conquer!”(38) Unlike the Red River Rebellion that was largely a resistance without violence, the Second Rebellion involved armed conflict with Canadian troops and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. The rebellion failed and Riel and other leaders were charged with treason. Riel was captured, tried for high treason and, on November 16, 1885, he was hanged in Regina. His execution was widely opposed in Quebec and had lasting political ramifications that continue to this day. V Contemporary Métissage Race as a social and political construct is not necessarily negative. Although race as a construct serves as an effective tool to dominate groups of people, race, as such, can, and does, create a powerful group identity for those whom the construct oppresses. “From the point of view of subordinate peoples, race can be a positive tool, a source of belonging, mutual help, and self-esteem. Racial categories identify a set of people with whom to share a sense of identity and common experience...It is to share a sense of peoplehood that helps locate individuals psychologically, and also provides the basis for common political action”(39) However, race as a social construct is based on biological notions of race. Within the socio-political construct, the “subordinate” individual identifies with being a member of a distinct race in the biological sense. This is clear in the ideology of Riel -- that two races, i.e., white and Indian, formed to create a new race, i.e., the Métis. Contemporary Métis thinkers continue to advance the idea of Métis as race and as the founders of North America. The most prominent are Martin Dunn, Claude Aubin, Duke Redbird, and Jean Morisset. The following excerpts provide insight into the modern ideas of Métissage. Martin Dunn: It is a historical fact that Métis/mixed bloods and were...identified as being a distinct indigenous race. As European Crowns battled for control of the “new world” a new race was born in the trenches, fusing the Native heritage of the Indian with the dreams of the European immigrants in a new land.(40) (With Claude Aubin): In spiritual terms, it can be said that the Métis are at the centre of a medicine wheel of the four principal races of man. This medicine wheel incorporates the four colours of the red, black, yellow, and white races. The Métis are the spiritual link between the spirituality of all the races and that of the Aboriginal people....it would be more accurate to describe Métis as “living treaties” between the Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal races...like other races of people, we too have our destiny and our prophecies.(41) Duke Redbird: The fact is that all of the races and ethnic groups in Canada are being integrated into the psychological and geo-physical reality that is North America and that THE METIS ARE THE ONLY ETHNIC GROUP INDIGENOUS TO THE CONTINENT. All other races, including Indian and Inuit, came from elsewhere at some other time. Contrary to the implications and assumptions of most writing on the Metis, the Metis see themselves through their oral traditions and myths as: (1) A race apart from both white and Indians and the only race indigenous to Canada: (2) Having established a viable -- if conceptually invisible to white perception -- civilization at least a century before confederation; (3) A founding nation equal to the French and the English in the development and growth of Confederation.(42) Jean Morisset: But what exactly is it all about, this multiculturalism, before the term was ever invented, that came to constitute, by the mere power of things, all inter-native, trans-tribal or “cross-frenche” metissage?...this geographic hybridization touched streams, mountains and rivers and affected the entire country at every ford, every bivouac and every sacred spot...If you need at least a few drops of savage blood in order to be Metis, then what could the flood of place names such as the following ones reveal: riviere au lait: milky river riviere boucanee: smoked river riviere enragee: enraged river riviere tannee: tanned river riviere qu’appelle: calling river riviere oualla-mette: walla-walla river reviere sauvageuse: making-you-wild-river without forgetting, of course, the lac beau-lake, Montana, Dakota, Minnesota, Ouisconsin, Assiniboine, etc. Metis. Metchif. Metchiff. La langue metive. Geographie Metisse! Metis geography! But who are the Mohawks? Who are the Iroquois? They are the Montours, Delisles, Pel[le]tiers of Franco-savage origin having passed into English in this American of the “melting pot” like...tens of thousands of Franco-Francos.(43) Dunn clearly considers the Métis a race -- in the biological sense. With Aubin, Dunn reinforces the Linnaean system of the four races of man. In the Dunn-Aubin paradigm, the Métis are placed at the center of the four races -- not only as a physical entity but a spiritual entity as well. Redbird confuses race and ethnicity; he vacillates between the two terms. Beyond his confusion, there are the deeper implications of his perceptions -- that the Métis are a founding nation and are the only indigenous peoples of North America. Morisset establishes Métis identity within a geographical/geophysical sphere. To Morisset, the naming of the continent has brought it into existence. Furthermore, the seed of the progenitor French colonizers created the tribes that exist today. Since race is not a biological fact and is, instead, a socio-political construct, does Métissage lend itself to the notions of race within that construct? The literature of Métis thinkers certainly expresses that notion. Indeed, these writers have gone over and beyond the socio-political construct of race and consider race as a biological fact. Redbird comes the closest to seeing beyond the socio-political construct, i.e., Métissage as representing an ethnic entity. But he fails to go the entire distance and falls back on the idealism of Métissage as race. Race and ethnicity. Although interrelated, they are two different terms. Race is a pseudoscientific notion based on the physiognomic differences in human groups. “An “ethnic group” is a reference group invoked by people who share a common historical style, based on overt features and values, and who, through the process of interaction with others, identify themselves as sharing that style. “Ethnic identity” is the sum total of feelings on the part of group members about those values, symbols, and common histories that identify them as a distinct group. “Ethnicity” is simply ethnic-based action.”(44) What is clear is that the idea of a Métis ethnicity began to coalesce under the guidance of Louis Riel. Initially, Riel’s influence was largely limited to the Red River Settlement. Fifteen years later, when the Métis settlements in Saskatchewan sought the aid of Riel, the Métis had not, at that point, developed into a strong ethnic entity. It was only after Riel answered the call and went to Saskatchewan, the Saskatchewan Métis were galvanized, as an ethnic entity, into armed resistance. Elsewhere in Canada, a majority of Métis had little concern for the events unfolding in Saskatchewan. Had there been a stronger ethnic element among the overall Métis populace, then there would have been at least voiced opposition to the Canadian government’s efforts to crush the resistance. However, “the large Michigan group [that accounted for nearly half of the entire Metis population], descendants of the first of their race, had lost their Métis identity though they had retained some of their French tradition; they had never heard of Riel’s ‘New Nation.’ Nor had 1,450 in Wisconsin, several thousand in Missouri and Illinois, and two dozen who had unaccountably strayed into Iowa.”(45) The genesis of a mixed heritage ethnicity began two years before the resistance at Red River. “The first Indian Act was enacted in 1868 (S.C. 1868, c.42) Section 15 of that Act embodied the following statement concerning those whom the Act applied:”(46) 15: For the purpose of determining what persons are entitled to hold, use or enjoy the lands and other immovable property belonging to or appropriated to the use of the various tribes, bands, or bodies of Indians in Canada, the following persons and classes of persons, and none other shall be considered as Indians belonging to the tribe, band or body of Indians interested in any such land or immovable property. Firstly: All persons of Indian blood, reputed to belong to the particular tribe, band or body of Indians interested in such lands or immovable property, and their descendants; Secondly: All persons residing among such Indians, whose parents were or are, or either was or is, descended on either side from Indians or an Indian reputed to belong to a particular tribe, band or body of Indians interested in such land or immovable property, and the descendants of all such persons; and Thirdly; All women lawfully married to any such persons included in the several classes herein designated; the children of such marriages, and their descendants. The last statement strongly affected Indian identity. Essentially, the statement stressed the sexist notion that if Indian women were married to Indian men who belonged to recognized tribes, bands, or bodies of Indians, the children were recognized as Indians. However, if an Indian woman was married to a non-Indian, her children would not be recognized as Indians. This was despite the fact that the Indian woman was, for example, a full blood member of a recognized tribe. This led to a special status for Indian women who had married outside their tribes. They and their children became non-status Indians. In the Kafkaesque universe of Canadian Indian affairs, these women and their children were Indian yet they had no status as Indians. With the policy of “involuntary enfranchisement,” many of the Indian children of succeeding generations eventually lost knowledge of the tribes they were descended from. Essentially, two groups of mixed heritage peoples evolved. One was the non-status Indians; the other were those people descended from historical Métis communities. Alberta initiated the impetus for modern Métis identity. “From 1885 to the 1930s the Métis lived, essentially, as refugees. They had...no land base...eight colonies of Métis...gained legal status and grants from Alberta in the 1930s.”(47) In 1932, the first official Métis association was established -- the Halfbreed Association of Alberta & NWT. This organization served as a model for Métis identity throughout Canada.(48) In 1938, the organization was renamed the Métis Association of Alberta. The Saskatchewan Métis followed by establishing their own association in the late 1930s. For the most part, these organizations lacked political power and, most importantly, a strong base of constituents. If a Métis ethnicity existed, it failed to respond as a political entity in terms of numbers. The real growth of political awareness developed in the early 1970s. In 1969, non-status Indians established the B.C. (British Columbia) Association of Non-Status Indians. This led to Métis and non-status Indian political coalitions in several provinces -- the Ontario Métis and Non-Status Indian Association (1971), the Quebec Métis and Non-Status Indian Association (1972), the NWT (Northwest Territories) Métis and Non-Status Indian Association. These groups, called the Native Council of Canada, were founded as the Congress of Aboriginal People (CAP) in 1971. CAP was formed to serve the interests of both non-Status Indians and the Métis. In 1982, Canada passed the Constitution Act, 1982. This reads: s. 35(1) The existing aboriginal and treaty rights of the aboriginal peoples of Canada are hereby recognized and affirmed. (2) In this Act, “aboriginal peoples of Canada” includes the Indian, Inuit and Métis peoples of Canada. In 1983, the Métis National Council (MNC) was established in response to the Constitution Act, 1982. This was a coalition of several Métis associations -- the Métis Nation of Ontario, the Manitoba Métis Federation, the Métis Nation of Saskatchewan, the Métis Nation of Alberta, and the Métis Provincial Council of British Columbia. Both MNC and CAP have emerged as powerful nationalistic organizations. They claim representation of, according to 1996 Canadian Census figures, 302,970 people. Of this total figure, 210,190 are Métis and 92,780 are non-status Indians. Alberta has the highest Métis population, 50,745, followed by Manitoba (46,195), Saskatchewan (36,535), British Columbia (26,750), Ontario (22,790), Quebec (16,075), Newfoundland (4,685), Northwest Territories (3,895), New Brunswick (975), Nova Scotia (860), Yukon Territory (565), and Prince Edward Island (120).(49) Although both the MNC and CAP work toward the common goals of establishing Métis and non-status Indian rights, they also reflect the factionalism and splintering that exists among provincial Métis groups -- for example, each claims to be the sole representative voice of Métis people. CAP, for example, represents provincial Métis organizations that are not associated with MNC. These include the Métis Association of the Northwest Territories, Métis Association of Alberta, Métis Association of British Columbia, and the Labrador Métis Nation. One of the main differences between the two groups is defining “Métis.” CAP, for example, supports the notion that aboriginal is an all-inclusive definition in which “Métis are included within the meaning of the term ‘Indians and lands reserved for the Indians.’”(50) In addition, “the inclusion of Métis is not a new inclusion but rather an elaboration of the people the current term ‘Indian’ was intended to include [in Section 91 (24) of the Indian Act of 1985 in defining Indian].”(51) This is despite the fact that in R. v Blais [1998], the court rejected the claim that Métis are Indians as defined under the Indian Act. In response to the court’s decision, CAP filed a lawsuit in 1999 for recognition as defined under Section 91 (24); the lawsuit claims that the Métis are entitled to the same rights and benefits as Indians registered under the Indian Act of 1985. As part of the lawsuit, CAP claims that as a distinct community, “those Métis who inhabited the territory administered by the Hudson’s Bay Company between 1670 and 1870 collectively constituted the ‘Métis Nation.’” The claim of the Métis constituting a “nation” in the years cited, ca. 1670-1870, is subject to analysis. The Cambridge Dictionary of American English defines: “nation noun a country, esp. when thought of as a large group of people living in one area with their own government, language, and traditions.” In addition, “A nation is also an American Indian group, esp. one that is a member of an American Indian federation.” Federation is defined as “a group of organizations, states, etc., that have united to form a larger organization or government.” Although the definitions of nation in the European concept and North American Indian concept differ, one of the equalizing factors between the definitions is that a nation is comprised a body of people with their own form of government. The historical records strongly indicate that the Métis did not exist as a nation under the definitions given. This is especially true in the years 1670 to 1870. Indeed, the term Métis did not come into common usage until the 1830s-40s. There are those advocates of a Métis nation who cite Riel’s establishment of a provincial government as marking the point in time when the Métis nation was created. However, Riel’s Declaration of the People of Rupert’s Land and the Bill of Rights made no mention of a Métis nation. Indeed, the word Métis or half-breed did not appear in the documents. That Riel sought to establish a nation is clear; however, the nation that Riel sought to establish was composed of other Euro-Canadians in addition to the Métis. The Métis National Council (MNC) has veered away from an all-inclusive definition that includes both Métis and non-status Indians. Under MNC guidelines, Métis is defined as: 1.0 Definitions A. Provincial Members as Accepting Group 1.1 “Metis” means a person who self-identifies as Metis, is accepted by the Metis Nation through the Acceptance Process and: (a) is a descendant of a Metis person who resided in or used and occupied the Historic Metis Nation Homeland on or before December 8th 1869; or (b) is of Canadian Aboriginal ancestry, can demonstrate sufficient connection to the Metis Nation and is resident in the Metis Homeland at the date of enrollment; or (c) was adopted as a child, under the laws of any jurisdiction or under any Metis custom, by a Metis within the meaning of (a) or (b) or a descendant of any such adoptee. B. Core Group Only 1.1 “Metis” means a person who self-identifies as Metis, is of Historic Metis Nation ancestry, and is accepted by the Metis Nation through the Acceptance Process. C. Core Group Accepting Others 1.1 “Metis” means a person who self-identifies as Metis, is accepted by the Metis Nation through the Metis Nation Acceptance Process and; (a) is of Historic Metis Nation ancestry; or (b) is of Canadian Aboriginal ancestry other than the ancestry in 1.1 (a)(52) MNC guidelines further the definition of “Métis nation”: 1.3 “Historic Metis Nation” means the Aboriginal people then known as the Metis or half-breeds who resided in the Historic Metis Nation Homeland on or before December 8th 1869. 1.4 “Historic Metis Nation Homeland” means the area of land in west central North America used and occupied as the traditional territory of the Metis, or half-breeds as they were then known, on or before December 8th 1969. 1.7 “Metis Nation” means one of the “aboriginal peoples of Canada” within the meaning of s.35 of the Constitution Act, 1982 and which is comprised of all Metis Nation Citizens.(53) The MNC’s agenda focuses on hunting rights, land rights, and self-governing rights. Basically, the MNC seeks a sovereign land base in which Métis settlements would become akin to First Nations reserves or reservations; and like reservations, Métis settlements would maintain a degree of self-governance and self-determination. In the MNC’s perspective, the Métis, defined as an “aboriginal people,” have an inherent aboriginal right to sovereignty. That is, because the Métis, like Indian people, are considered aboriginal, they have the same rights as Indian people. MNC’s claim to sovereignty is based on the Royal Proclamation of 1763. MNC states: This unilateral extinguishment of Métis rights [through the Manitoba Act] violated the principals of the Royal Proclamation of 1763, which set the standard by which governments were to deal with Aboriginal peoples. The Royal Proclamation provided that the land of Aboriginal peoples was not to be dismembered piecemeal by encroaching settlers. The Crown assumed responsibility for protecting the rights of Aboriginal peoples.(54) Under the Royal Proclamation, “the lands west of the Appalachian height of land were ‘reserved’ to the Indians as their Hunting Grounds...Indian Nations governed the Proclamation Territory under their own laws.”(55) In the wording of the Royal Proclamation, there is no mention of Métis, half-breed, or aboriginal. It is also clear that it is specifically the Indian people that the Royal Proclamation is directed toward under the Indian Provisions: And whereas it is just and reasonable, and essential to our Interest, and the Security of our Colonies, that the several Nations or Tribes of Indians with whom we are connected, and who live under our Protection, should not be molested or disturbed in the Possession of such Parts of Our Dominions and Territories as, not having been ceded to or purchased by Us, are reserved to them, or any of them, as their Hunting Grounds...(56) Historical records indicate that mixed-heritage people did not live in exclusive settlements. Rather, they lived in small settlements located in and around trading posts. The typical fur-trade family of the Proclamation period consisted of a Euro-Canadian male, who was a voyageur, an Indian wife, and their mixed-heritage child(ren). “[A] large proportion of them in the later period of the fur-trade era became settlers on the frontier...First the voyageurs lived at the trading posts of these regions; a little later they took up land, on which they resided during the portion of the year when they were not employed in paddling traders’ canoes or absent on trading expeditions to the Indians.”(57) Under the Grants for Settlement provision of the Proclamation, the voyageurs and their families were provided with certain rights for settlement. Most importantly, under the Proclamation, sovereign rights were assigned specifically to Indian Nations and the Crown. Sovereignty was not an individual right; rather, it was right of governments -- tribal and European. Voyageur settlements per se did not have sovereign rights. Although a portion of the populace of the settlements was composed of Indian females and their mixed-heritage children, tribal sovereign rights did not extend to the settlements. Essentially, they lived outside the perimeters of their respective tribal nations and, hence, tribal sovereignty in terms of the land base was not applicable. The MNC’s argument is largely based on the assumption that the land was Terra Nullius and that the land was essentially free for the taking. They claim the right to land because they consider themselves as the third founding nation of Canada. There is, however, a contradiction in their argument. On one hand, they claim to be an indigenous people of North America; on the other, they claim to be a founding nation. One is either one or the other; one cannot be both. VI Métissage in the United States Métissage is not limited to Canada. The ideology of Métissage has adherents in the United States. Today, there are several organizations that claim an affinity to the ethnic dimensions that define Métissage. These include Blue Mountain Métis Community, Association of Southern Métis, Inc., U.S. Metis Alliance, Métis Nation of the South, the Métis Nation of New England, the United American Metis Society, the Métis Nation of the United States, and the National American Métis Association (NAMA). In general, American Métis identify themselves as Southern Métis to make a distinction from the Canadian Métis. NAMA claims to be the “official” voice of Métis in the United States. Founded in 1978, NAMA, due to disputes over leadership positions, has gone under and reemerged several times. At present, it has 200 members. According to NAMA’s policy statement: We Breed people continue to be born and to learn a new language to describe ourselves, celebrating our place here in Life with out Mother Earth. We cannot understand boundaries and borders. We are a Native stock and Mixed Heritage and we are responsible for expressing our Fact. Soon, all the Reservations will be Metis and certainly most of our inner cities are now Metis.(58) All of these organizations have fast and loose rules for membership. Although family tree information is requested, a prospective member who does not have that information can merely state that he/she is of mixed-blood ancestry to qualify for membership. For example, the requirements for the Métis Nation of the South states: Part II: Statement of Oral Tradition (If you do not have legal documents that prove to have First Nations and non-First Nations ancestry, you are required to complete Part II. If you do have such legal documents, you may skip this section, and send a photocopy of the records at your option, or you may choose to complete part II anyway.) I hereby affirm under penalty of perjury, that according to the oral traditions of my family, that I am of First Nations Ancestry, of the ________________________________________ Tribes(s) or First Nation(s), and of non-First Nation(s) Ancestry of the ________________________________________ Tribe(s) or First Nation(s). Part III Statement of Oath of Citizenship “I,____________________________, pledge oath to the Metis Nation of the South. I promise to uphold the constitution of the Nation and to honor the traditions of my ancestors.” By pressing the submit button, you certify under penalty, according to the laws and traditions of the Nation that the above facts are true and complete. Intentional falsification of facts on this form is a crime.(59) All of these groups have established a presence on Internet sites. Interaction between Southern Métis can be found at [email protected]. MetisCulture was founded in 1999 to allow for interactive dialogue between Southern Métis people. It currently has 71 members. Essentially, MetisCulture is a message board that allows member to post comments, opinions, and concerns. The undercurrent of dialogue reveals the idea that Southern Métis are a people who are dispossessed of land and identity. In general, Southern Métis have little knowledge of their own specific Indian heritage. As such, the Southern Métis incorporate a homogenous blend of tribal philosophies, traditions, and customs. There is, however, a dark underside to this appropriation of tribal spiritual and cultural knowledge. This is the sentiment that Southern Métis have a right to that knowledge because tribal nations are perceived through the lens of misconceptions. For example, Indian peoples and cultures are viewed through the stereotypical notions of the vanishing race. And because, according to the Southern Métis view, tribal nations are vanishing, it then becomes the responsibility of the Southern Métis, by virtue of their “native” blood, to uphold and practice those traditions and customs. Recently, one MetisCulture member posted the following: Yea -- I'm sick to death of the doom-sayers, the nay-sayers, and the absurd hypocrisy I have witnessed--for too many years-- in the American Indian Circles-- and the sacrilregous, sanctomonious, crap I have witnessed in the behavoir of young, full-blood, Dancers at Pow-wow, and Indian Youth in general at Public events. Either their Elders taught them nothing at all, or they themselves chose not to listen, thereby showing little to no Respect for either the Elders of the Nation or themselves. Sorry, but this IS the Truth. On the other hand--- it seems the Métis kids and the purely White Dancers know how to Respect the Circle, the Dance, and all of the spiritual overtones of Pow-wow --- funny, isnt it ?? (I’m not exactly laughing) Of course, then there are the "Elders"-----members of the boards of directors of Urban Centers--who tend to fall out Drunk at their own, Public, Events. Some showing --huh ?? Yea, Folks, and I've seen the same from Tribal Officials on Reservations. Believe it.(60) Although this particular posting was extreme in its assessment of indigenous North American peoples, it nevertheless forms the thread of Southern Métis thought that can be found in the writings of other Southern Métis people. Another aspect of identity is the Southern Métis claim to a supposed ethnic identity based on the assumption that the historic Métis had a strong presence in the United States. Although the historic Métis did in fact have a presence in the United States -- in particular, in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, North Dakota, and Montana -- it is a misconception that all mixed-heritage individuals identified themselves as ethnic Métis. Intermarriages had occurred in many tribes in the United States as a result of contact with fur traders, voyageurs, and trappers. These unions resulted in a mixed-heritage population. However, these individuals did not form an ethnicity in the same sense as the mixed-heritage individuals in Canada. In U.S. treaties, mixed heritage people were referred to as half-breeds, half-bloods or mixed bloods. Fourteen treaties, out of 377, contained specific provisions for half-breeds. The half-breed populace maintained close ties to the tribes that they were related to. The Treaty with the Osage (1825) and the Treaty with the Kansa (1826) are the earliest treaties that cite a half-breed populace. Both of the treaties provided several half-breed individuals with “reservations.” These were not reservations in the legal sense of the term, i.e., they were not sovereign tracts of land. Rather, they were portions of land given to certain half-breeds. The Osage treaty provided tracts of one hundred and forty acres, and the Kansa treaty provided tracts of one square mile. In 1830, a collective treaty with several tribal groups, including the Sioux, Omahas, Ioways, and Ottoes, contained provisions for tracts of land for their half-breed populace. Treaties with the Ottawa and Chippewa (1836), the Sauk and Foxes (1836), and the Chippewa of Lake Superior and Mississippi (1842) contained cash provisions for their half-breeds. In 1847, the treaty with the Lake Superior and Mississippi bands was renegotiated. The terms of the new treaty stipulated that “the half or mixed bloods of the Chippewa residing with them shall be considered Chippewa Indians, and shall, as such, be allowed to participate in all annuities which shall be hereafter be paid to the Chippewas of the Mississippi and Lake Superior, due them by this treaty, and the treaties heretofore made and ratified.”(61) Basically, the treaties with mixed blood provisions provided the half-breed populace with 1) tracts of land located in territory ceded by the band; 2) cash payments in lieu of land; 3) absorption into the band itself and provided with the benefits stipulated in the treaties. The majority of mixed bloods chose to marry into the tribes that they were descended from. In other words, they were absorbed back into their tribes of origin. Their offspring established strong blood ties to the tribe. Those mixed bloods who chose to adopt “white ways,” received land tracts and/or cash payments. The crucial difference between the mixed blood experience in Canada and the U.S. is that a majority of mixed bloods in the U.S. became a part of the tribe. In Canada, mixed bloods chose to remain aloof from the tribes. As the Canadian mixed bloods coalesced into their own communities, half-blood men married half-blood women. These intermarriages diminished the blood line to the extent that the term “half-breed” was no longer applicable. Hence, the term Métis, meaning mixed. Indeed, Louis Riel, who is often referred to as the half-breed leader of the Métis, was only one-eighth Indian. Certainly Canadian mixed-bloods had choices to make. Had they wanted, they could have become part of the tribes of their origins. “Traditionally, individuals could become members of an indigenous society by kinship, intermarriage, adoption, or naturalization, which included ‘mixed blood identities,’ no matter what their ‘racial’ or cultural background. Later, Euro-Americans as ‘whites’ could be adopted or naturalized by Indians through intermarriage and emphasis on exogamy.”(62) The fact that tribes were nations in the sense of peoplehood is often overlooked. The book, Miskwaagamiiwizaa’iganing, points this out: The traditional custom of adoption is common among Indian tribes. This custom was also common on the Red Lake reservation and a necessary part of the Ojibwe society since the well-being for all people was a tribal virtue. The Ojibwe society also adopted Indians from other tribes, other Ojibwe tribes, and non-Indians. In the past, birth on the reservation was sufficient evidence for tribal enrollment...in terms of cultural and tribal identity, the dodem clan membership, kinship system, and adoption are some of the tribal identity criteria. The tribal custom does not have an “official” membership criteria.(63) The treaty-making process ended traditional concepts of native peoplehood. The limiting factors of Indian sovereignty, as established in the U.S. Supreme Court decisions rendered by Chief Justice John Marshall in the 1820s-30s, imposed a domestic, dependent nation sovereignty that denied tribes the right to determine traditional membership within their own nations. Another factor that has led to the myth of a Métis ethnic presence in tribes in the U.S. are surnames. For example, many Ojibwé-Anishinaabé families have French, Scot, and English surnames. The assumption is made that European surnames indicate a Métis intermarriage somewhere in the Indian family lineage. Although mixed blood marriages did occur, and European surnames were adopted, in most cases the surname was assigned to Indian families in which there was no intermarriage. The European concept of first names and surnames were introduced to the American Indian by the federal government. Therefore, the government implemented a system for issuing a surname to a family head. The procedure was either an attempt to translate the father’s Indian given name or to randomly select a common name drawn from a hat. This procedure was sometimes done in random fashion that members of a family had different surnames. Since the French and Norwegian folk were common in the Midwest, which also includes the Red Lake area, French and Norwegian surnames were commonly assigned names. The surnames of the Red Lake people reflect this random assignment for surnames. After the federal government assigned surnames for the people of Red Lake, the tribal rolls for the Red Lake Band was established. (64) Indeed, Indian people who choose to research their family tree to trace their Métis surname find a gap in connecting their surname to historical Métis surnames. They can trace the surname to a grandparent or great-grandparent, but they find a space, or a break, in which the name cannot go beyond that and be connected to an interconnecting, intermarrying relative who has historic Métis roots. This gap represents the fact that a connection does not exist. Rather, it is a surname that had been literally drawn out of a hat and assigned to a generation twice or three times removed. The quest to establish a Métis ethnicity in the United States is based on the false assumption that a large Métis ethnicity existed in the historic past. Certainly there were Métis people who settled in the U.S. They were, however, a minority among the general mixed heritage populace. Indeed, the majority of mixed bloods did not subscribe to Louis Riel’s ideology of a mixed blood ethnicity. There is also a fallacy that the Southern Metis could somehow receive “recognition” through the BIA. With such a minute constituency -- one that numbers perhaps 1000 nationwide -- the Southern Metis are hardly in the position to exert any political leverage whatsoever for recognition. The federal recognition process recognizes only tribal entities that can, through an exhaustive process, prove their historical tribalness. Without any real indigenous roots, the Southern Metis, at best, can claim to be a homogeneous group -- one composed of a mixture of enigmatic tribal beliefs, traditions, and customs. But a true tribal people, they are not. Like the Métis in Canada, the Southern Métis have revised history to fit the conception of a people dispossessed of land and stripped of identity. Whereas the Métis are an ethnicity formed and shaped by the Canadian socio-political environment, American Métis have very little foundation on which to establish an ethnic identity. Conclusion “Racial categories (and ethnic categories, for they function in the same way) identify a set of people with whom to share a sense of identity and common experience...It is to share a sense of peoplehood that helps locate individuals psychologically, and also provides the basis for common political action.”(65) Certainly the Métis, as an ethnicity, share a sense of peoplehood that has resulted through the need for common political action. Indeed, the very history of the Métis strongly indicates that Métis group identity was largely shaped and formed in reaction to political pressures of the Canadian government’s efforts to annex Rupert’s Land in the late 1860s. However, the ethnic dimensions of group identity were limited. It wasn’t until the 1970s that a strong ethnic infrastructure emerged in reaction to the socio-political oppression of mixed-heritage peoples. This was, of course, a period when group power movements representing people of color -- Black power, Red power, Chicano power -- emerged in the political consciousness of North America. The turmoil of the 70s led to concessions by governments in the United States and Canada. In the case of the Métis, the concession of aboriginal recognition was granted in the Constitution Act, 1982. However, aboriginal recognition did not, nor does it, imply sovereign rights. S31(1) clearly states that existing aboriginal rights...are hereby recognized and affirmed. For the Métis, this means their hunting and gathering rights as an aboriginal people, and these rights have been recognized and affirmed in recent court decisions. The other part of s31(1) -- The existing treaty rights...are hereby recognized and affirmed -- is clearly intended for those who have sovereign rights, i.e., the indigenous First Nations and Inuit peoples of Canada. The definition of sovereignty is implicit in its meaning in regard to tribal/First Nations. David Wilkins writes: “[T]he description of tribes as ‘governments’ stems from their status as the original sovereigns of America with whom various European states and, later, the United States, engaged in binding treaties and agreements. Clearly the tribes’ sovereign status continued through the colonial period and under the Articles of Confederation, the Northwest Ordinance, and the earliest draft of the U.S. Constitution”(66) Although Wilkins is writing about tribal nations in the U.S., the principals of sovereignty are essentially the same in both the United States and Canada. Wilkins further writes: To define [sovereign] status, it is important to identify certain characteristics of tribal nations. First, and most obvious, tribal nations are indigenous to the United States, while all other individuals and groups are immigrants. Second, “tribalism” or “tribal status” is a unique concept emphasizing collective or group rights and affirming the sovereign status of the group. From an indigenous perspective...tribal sovereignty has several manifestations. First, from both an internal and intergovernmental perspective, it entails a political/legal dimension -- including, but not limiting to, the power to adopt its own form of government; to define the conditions of citizenship/membership in the nation; to regulate the domestic relations of the nation’s citizens/members; to prescribe rules of inheritance with respect to all personal property and all interests in real property; to levy dues, fees, or taxes upon citizen/members and noncitizens/nonmembers; to remove or to exclude nonmembers of the tribe; to administer justice; and to prescribe and regulate the conduct of federal employees. Second, and more broadly, tribal sovereignty entails a cultural/spiritual dimension. Sovereignty ‘can be said to consist more of continues cultural integrity than of political powers and to the degree that a nation loses its sense of cultural identity, to that degree it suffers a loss of sovereignty.’”(67) The factors that Wilkins lists applies to tribal groups. As such, tribalism or tribal status is reserved for those indigenous groups that inhabited North American before the coming of European immigrants. It is clear that the Métis do not fit the definition of tribalism or tribal status since they did not, nor could not, exist before the coming of Europeans. With a mixed-heritage of European and Indian ethnicity, they could not possibly have any claim to sovereign rights. The Métis drift toward sovereignty is keyed to recent Canadian Supreme Court decisions that have upheld Métis hunting rights, e.g., R. v. Powley. Yet, despite several decisions that have favored Métis hunting rights, sovereign rights have eluded them. One of the most important decisions that clearly affirmed indigenous sovereign rights as opposed to Métis efforts to gain sovereign rights occurred on July 20, 2000. The Supreme Court denied an appeal by Ontario Métis groups and organizations who claimed a right to share in the profits of Casino Rama, operated by the Mnjikaning Ojibwe First Nation. The Mnjikaning Ojibwe receive 35 percent of the profits and the rest goes to 133 status First Nation reserves in Ontario. Under a 1996 agreement with the Ontario government, the casino profits are used to strengthen tribal economic, cultural and social development. The proceeds are distributed only to Ontario First Nations communities who have sovereign status as recognized under the Indian Act. The Court rejected the Ontario Métis appeal on the grounds that the Métis are not a tribe and do not have sovereign rights. The issue of land and sovereignty to land permeates the Métis perspective in both Canada and the United States. There is, in Métis thought, a sense of Lebensraum. This is the German Nazi ideological concept of a tribally rooted people dispossessed of their land, and a people who have been oppressed by the dominion of stronger nations. The Metis sense of Lebensraum is based on the writings of one man -- a man diagnosed as a megalomaniac, a man who saw himself as a Messiah leading his Chosen People. In the shadows of the gallow and noose, Louis Riel wrote: What did the Government do? It laid hands on the land of the Metis as if it were its own...not only did it take the land from under their feet, it even took away their right to use it. To take away their country was to weaken the strength of their character. I address this question to all those enlightened by the ideals of truth and simple justice. Does justice allow a stronger people to snatch away the homeland of a weaker people? Humanity answers no. Human conscience condemns such an act as criminal and its grievous consequences are many and difficult to measure...One’s native land is the most important of all things on earth. Above all it is made holy through the ancestors who pass it on. To take it away from the people it gave birth to, is as abominable as to tear a mother from her little children at the time they need her most. But the fatherland is called the fatherland because it is the Gift of God, our Father; a priceless heritage -- I should say a divine heritage! A people who unjustly take away the native land of another, commits the greatest sacrilege, because all other sacrileges seem to me are only parts of it. The Metis had their hay lands; the Government took them. They had commons and pasture land for their horses and cattle; it took them too. They had woodlots; the Government seized them. The lands that they owned and which belonged to once, by the Indian title, twice for having defended them with their blood, and thrice for having built and lived on them, cultivated, fenced, and worked them, were returned to them for a consideration of two dollars an acre.(68) Louis Riel’s “enlightened” sense of injustice was ludicrous at best. He was correct in questioning the human conscience for the unjustly appropriation of native land. However, Riel overlooked one minor detail -- what of the unjustness of the taking of native land by a mixed heritage element who renamed the land and who settled the land without Indian title? The most revealing aspect of Riel’s concept of Lebensraum is his use of the term fatherland. In native thought, the land is always the mother. However, in Riel’s convoluted matter of thinking, the land became anchored in the Euro-centric notion of the Judeo-Christian ethos of man as the master of all life upon the earth. In the mind of The New World Man, the land becomes rooted in the European mind set of the dominant male; and in the sexist concepts of male dominance, the land becomes the fatherland. The idea of the land as fatherland gives way to the aggressive, conquest-oriented part of European -- and, hence, Metis -- identity. In sum, the Metis are not a distinct race but rather an ethnicity that has evolved in response to a post-colonial environment. Historically, they played an active role in colonialism by exploiting the resources of indigenous peoples through the auspices of the fur trade companies. With the diminishment of the fur trade, they evolved into a colonizing group of settlers of mixed heritage who, in mind and manner, were European, and they sought to establish a European style of sovereignty on lands that they had settled. They may be considered aboriginal by virtue of the fact that they have indigenous roots. But indigenous they clearly are not. Most importantly, the Metis are the legacy of colonialism. Their roles in the establishment of colonial power was essentially that of indentured laborers. Betrayed by the ideals of a “civilizing mission,” they were marginalized as a people without a history. Like their mestizaje kin of Central and South America, they are the genetic and cultural hybrid of the colonizer and the colonized. Unlike their mestizaje kin, who “overcame the last formal vestiges of political dependency on imperial Spain and established their own nation-states in the image of the motherland [Spain]”(69), the Metis have failed to overcome those “last formal vestiges” because the colonizer remains in power. But, perhaps more crucial, those the Metis have sought to replace have not vanished nor have they relinquished their obligations and responsiblities to Mother Earth. We are still here. Works Cited 1 Metis Nation of Alberta: History of the Alberta Metis, INTERNET: http://www. metis.org/pages/history_metis.html, 1. 2 ibid., 1. 3 Kromkowski, John A., ed., Race and Ethnic Relations 98 / 99, Stephen Jay Gould, The Geometer of Race, Guilford: Dushkin/McGraw-Hill, 1998, 235. 4 ibid., 235. 5 ibid., 235. 6 ibid., 235. 7 ibid., 237. 8 Handout, Race, Culture, and Ethnicity, Prof. Rose Brewer, Fall Term, 1998. 9 ibid. 10 ibid. 11 Root, Maria P. P., ed., Racially Mixed People in America, Paul R. Spickard, The Illogic of American Racial Categories, Newbury Park/London/New Delhi: Sage Publications, International Educational and Professional Publisher, 1992, 19. 12 The Metis: Louis Riel’s Last Memoir, Before Confederation, INTERNET: http:// members.tripod.com/~Metis/rielmemoir3.htm, 2. 13 The Metis - Louis Riel’’s Last Memoir, The Metis of the North West, INTERNET: http://members.tripod.com/~Metis/rielmemoir1.html, 1. 14 Louis Riel Trial Statement, INTERNET: http://www.hpl.hamilton.on.ca/History/ riel/hisspeech.htm, 2. 15 Cook-Lynn, Elizabeth, Why I Can’t Read Wallace Stegner and Other Essays, End of the Failed Metaphor, Madison: The Unuversity of Wisconsin Press, 1997, 147. 16 ACADIAN-CAJUN Genealogy: 1686 Acadian Census, INTERNET: http://www.genweb.net/acadian-cajun/1663 cens.htm and 1686 cens.htm, January, 2001. 17 Tanguay, L'Abbe Cyprien, Dictionnarie Genealogique des Familles Canadiennes, Quebec: Eusébe Senécal, Imprimeur-Éditeur, 1700. 18 Howard, Joseph Kinsey, Strange Empire: A Narrative of the Northwest, St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 1994, 39. 19 Nute, Grace Lee, The Voyageur, St. Paul: Minnesota Historical Society Press, 1987, 87- 88. 20 Bodley, John H., Cultural Antropology: Tribes, States, and the Global System, London/Toronto: Mayfield Publishing Company, 1997, 8. 21 Glazer, Nathan and Daniel P. Moynihan, eds., Ethnicity: Theory and Experience, Talcott Parsons, _Some Theoretical Considerations on the Nature and Trends of Change of Ethnicity, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1975, 57. 22 Imperial, Political, and Economic Relationships, INTERNET: http://www. calary.ca/HIST/tutor/colony/18imp.html, 1. 23 Volger, Ingolf, European Colonialism Models: Boreal Riverine Empire, INTERNET: http://www.uwec.edu/Academic/Geography/Ivogeler/w111/ macro2.htm, 1. 24 Vogeler, Ingolf, European Colonialism Models: Settler Empire, INTERNET: http://www.uwec.edu/Academic/Geography/Ivogeler/w111/macro3.htm, 1. 25 Encyclopedia Brittanica, Colonialism, INTERNET: http://search.eb.com/ topic?eu=108616&sctn=14&pm=1, 1. 26 Nute, op. cit., 3. 27 ibid., 7. 28 Howard., op. cit., 30. 29 MVNF: The Fur Trade in New France: The Coureurs des bois, Voyageurs, and Hired Men: Residents of Montreal and Trois-Rivieres, INTERNET: http://www. vmnf.civilization.ca/popul/coureurs/resident.htm. 1. 30 LesMetis...Voyageurs and Grandparents: The Northern Rivermen, INTERNET: http://www.jkcc.com/evje/voyageurs.html, 3, 5. 31 ibid., 1. 32 Lynne, Jackie, Colonialism and the Sexual Exploitation of Canada’s First Nations Women, paper presented at the American Psychological Association 106th Annual Convention, San Francisco, CA, August 17, 1998, 2. 33 Howard, op. cit., 56. 34 ibid., 44. 35 1869 Metis Bill of Rights, INTERNET: http://www.nelson.com/nelson/school/ discovery/cantext/western/1869meti.htm. 36 Howard., op. cit., 159. 37 ibid., 317. 38 ibid., 437. 39 Root., op. cit., 19. 40 Dunn, Martin, Metis 101: Understanding Metis in Canada Today, INTERNET: http://www.cyberus.ca/%7Emfdunn/metis/Papers/Dunn/Metis101/Metis101.html, 4. 41 Dunn, Martin, and Claude Aubin, Confederacy Concept, INTERNET: http:// www.othermetis.net/index.html/Docu...s/Confederacy/ConFedWorkshop/ concept.html, 1. 42 Redbird, Duke, We Are Metis, INTERNET: http://www.othermetis.net/index. html/WAM/WAMend.html, 1. 43 Morisset, Jean, The Native Path and its Trance-Cultural Connection, INTERNET: http://www.cyberus.ca/~mfdunn/metis/Papers/trance.html, 7. 44 Royce, Anya Peterson, Ethnic Identity: Strategies of Diversity, Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 18. 45 Howard, op. cit., 337-338. 46 CAP Sues Feds for 91(24) Recognition of Metis and Non-Status Indians, INTERNET: http://www.othermetis.net/index.html/Legalmetis/CAPclaim.html, 5. 47 Howard., op. cit., xxi-xxii. 48 ibid., xxii. 49 1996 Census: Aboriginal Data, INTERNET: http://www.statcan.ca/Daily/ English/980113/d980113.htm. 50 CAP, op. cit. 51 ibid. 52 MNC Definition of “Metis,” INTERNET: http://www.televar.com/~gmorin/ metis-MNC.htm, 1, 53 ibid., 2. 54 The Metis National Council, What is the Legal Basis of Metis Land Title? INTERNET: http://www.metisnation.ca/mnc/mncLAND_INTRO.html, 2. 55 Virtual Law Office: Royal Proclamation of 1763, INTERNET: http://www. bloorstreet.com/200block/rp1763.htm, 6. 56 ibid. 57 Nute, op. cit., 177. 58 National American Metis Association, http://www.americanmetis.org/test/ html. 59 The Metis Nation of the South, http://www.newcastle.nu/metis. 60 [email protected], posted by [email protected], April 16, 2001. 61 Kappler, Charles, Indian Affairs: Laws and Treaties, Volume II, Treaties, Treaty with the Lake Superior and Mississippi Chippewa, 1847. 62 Gregory, Steven and Roger Sanjek, eds., Race, M. Annette Jaimes, American Racism: The Impact on American-Indian Identity and Survival, New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1994. 63 Ojibwe Studies, 1981-1982, Red Lake Title IV Program, Miskwaagamiiwizaaga’iganiing: An Introductory Course about the Red Lake Indian Reservation, 20. 64 ibid., 19. 65 Root, op. cit., 19. 66 Wilkins, David, American Indian Sovereignty and the U.S. Supreme Court: The Masking of Justice, Austin: Unviersity of Texas Press, 1997, 22-23. 67 ibid., 20. 68 The Metis: Louis Riel’s Last Memoir, The Coming of Authority, http://www. tripod.com/~Metis/rielmemoir4.html, 1-4. 69 Prakash, Gyan, ed., After Colonialism: Imperial Histories and Postcolonial Displacements, J. Jorge Klor De Alva, The Postcolonialization of the Latin American Experience: A Reconsideration of “”Colonialism,” “Postcolonialism, and “Mestizaje,” Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995. © 2001, Capstone, All Rights Reserved, Robert DesJarlait © 2018, All Rights Reserved, Robert DesJarlait Video Link: https://cancerpathnotes.weebly.com/blog/video-powwow-colon-cancer-initiative-with-robert-desjarlait?fbclid=IwAR1DONu07iXXcaNHD8rgWlWYySSkK2EPxTsfNlUcRCef_jEPF8HcIngQ4u4 The Powwow Colon Cancer Initiative was a special project sponsored by the American Indian Cancer Foundation with a grant from the Minnesota Department of Health. I was asked to be the spokesperson for the project. From April to June 2018, we attended six powwows - the Osseo Indian Education Powwow, Augsburg Powwow, University of Minnesota Powwow, Leech Lake Memorial Day Powwow, White Earth Annual Powwow, and the Lake Vermilion Powwow.
The powwows gave me the opportunity to talk about my survivor story and to provide information on colon cancer. The most important message was, and is, that colon cancer is preventable. Cancer is a word that is a stigma for some people – Native and non-Native alike. Some people feel that it shouldn’t be spoken. By not saying it, the thinking goes that you won’t get it. But by not talking about it, we deny its existence. Denial can be deadly because denial can prevent a person to seek screening. Denial allows for cancer cells to grow and multiply and advance from a treatable Stage I cancer to a deadly Stage IV cancer. In my initial contraction of colon cancer in 2013, a tumor was found and my ascending colon was removed. It was classified as Stage I because the cancer hadn’t broken through the walls of my colon. Survival rates for Stage I are great. However, in 2016, a cancerous lesion was found on the left lobe of my liver. The lobe was removed and I went through 16 rounds of chemotherapy. I have remained cancer-free for two years. Because of my recurrence, I am considered as a Stage IV survivor. In hindsight, all of this could have been avoided had I gone to my doctor for colon cancer screening at the recommended age. But because I didn’t, a pre-cancerous polyp developed into a adenocarcinoma (cancerous) polyp with mutated cells that multiplied into large tumor. It takes 7-10 years for a pre-cancerous polyp to develop into cancer. Had I gone in for screening, I wouldn’t be writing this nor appear in a video. Had I gone in for screening, I wouldn’t be dealing with post-chemo after-effects, effects that can potentially linger for many years. The Powwow Initiative video marks an important place on my cancer journey. Since 2013, I’ve served in the role of a cancer advocate in the Native American community. The video is a visual representation of the message that I carry. It’s a simple message but one that can save lives. Please share my message with others. Together, we can help prevent this second cause of cancer death among Native people. Miigwech to videographer Tiana LaPointe, Kristine Sorensen and In Progress, the American Indian Cancer Foundation, and the Minnesota Department of Health. |
AuthorEndaso-Giizhik Archives
June 2021
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