A Different World:

By: Christine McFarlane

There is a gentle breeze around me as I sit by the water’s edge. I hear the occasional chirp of a bird and spot one or two ducks calmly floating on the waters of Lake Simcoe. As I am sitting on the rocks, it is as though a shawl has come down and wrapped itself around me. I am lost in my thoughts; there is no one or nothing that can disturb me. Not a soul is in sight.

As I am sitting, I pull my knees up to my chest; my hands are clasped around them. I am hidden from the road by an expanse of grassy land as I sit watching the waters of the lake. I am dressed in my usual attire, jeans, t-shirt, running shoes and a light jacket. I do not notice the coldness of the rocks on my backside, or the lapping of the water getting closer and closer to my feet. I am lost in thought, thinking about long ago, about the teachings I have learned and have received.

As I sit reveling in the silence, I wrestle with the knowledge that I live a life my ancestors did not know. They did not know the sounds of car horns honking, hear the incessant ringing of cellphones or have technology at the tip of their fingers every time they turned around. They did not have to escape just to experience some silence. They did not experience the jostling of bodies as they navigated their way around on a day-to-day basis, nor did they know that the appreciation of everything and everyone they knew around them would disappear, and that it would take everything you had inside to get that appreciation back.

Selfishness and greed became a part of life, and nothing was ever enough. It is today that I sit consumed by thoughts of what used to be. I yearn to know what it is my ancestors experienced. I want to learn the ways of my people, bring back tradition and culture and speak my language so that I can pass it down to the generations behind me.

            I heard a long time ago that there was a time when Mother Earth was respected. A time when “we maintained relations with the whole natural world,” and we as First Nations people believed “the people, animals and trees spoke the same language.”(oratory, February 2010)

            We could step outside and not worry about the chemicals or toxins we breathed in. We could walk and appreciate the silence that surrounded us. We did not have to hear a cacophony of sounds, see garbage laying around, worry about where our water was coming from and that if we went for a dip in the lake, we could catch some type of disease or bacteria that lay in the waters that surround us today. We could go out on the land and be unafraid of the animals that roamed, and not worry that it was possible they could become extinct.

I am an urban Indian. I have never known anything outside of city life. I did not grow up on my reserve-Peguis First Nation. What I knew of reserves was what I had read in the newspapers or heard on the news. That news was never anything good. You just have to think of Kashechewan First Nation and how infamous it became in the media due to the problems that plagued them- the flooding and the contaminated water.

The community of Kashechewan is located in the district of Kenora. It is a First Nation of the Albany Reserve #67. The community is located on the northern shore of the Albany River, 10km upstream from James Bay. Kashechewan is known for being situated in an area that is susceptible to flooding and that in times of flooding, community members often have to be relocated until flooding subsides. This upheaval has shaken the community in many ways.

I remember picking up the local native newspaper “The Native Canadian” in 2005 and reading “Kashechewan faces possible relocation from a land they know and have grown up on, due to flooding and contaminated water.”(2005) I read about the problems they faced such as high unemployment, poverty and the lack of suitable housing.   In my studies at the University of Toronto, I have been learning the history behind First Nations people and their communities. I have learned how upheaval can have a devastating impact both physically and psychologically, especially in a culture that holds great importance in connection with the land.  Upheaval is all too familiar to many First Nations people.

Our governments have made policies and the advancement of technology and consumerism has made many forget  “a way of life” that was once centered around for the Haudenonsaunee-the Great Law of Peace, and for other communities- the 7 Grandfather Teachings. Teachings that encompass “neb-wa-kah-win (Wisdom), ma-na-denaa-moowin (Respect), zaa-gi de-win (Love), gwak-wad-di-zi-win (Honesty), ack-ko-day-a-win (Bravery), dub-ba-say-ni-moo-win (Humility), and day-bway-win (Truth).”

 As I am sitting on the rocks by the waters of Lake Simcoe, I am thinking of the waters that surround me, the way of life that used to be and the worldview that has been introduced to me by a woman who has brought me here to her reserve. It is a place that I can learn from and appreciate. This woman has gone out of her way to help me bridge the gap in my mind of what city life and reserve life is like. She has gone out of her way to instill within me, a knowledge I had thirsted for all my life-to know who I was, and to understand that Native people are really no different than those who live in the city. This was all contrary to what I had been raised to believe in.

 It was Dr. Cynthia Wesley-Esquimaux, a professor in the Aboriginal Studies Department at the University of Toronto and a First Nations member of Georgina Island who introduced me to a new reality, who taught me to challenge my perceptions of Aboriginal Canada and open my mind to new experiences and ways of thinking.  When she brought me out to her reserve for the first time, I never knew that I would be introduced to a new worldview. A way of thinking that would challenge by very way of being, and how I saw the world around me.

While at Georgina Island, in that first visit five years ago and in subsequent visits afterwards, I have learned about family and community. I have listened to stories, have heard the importance of having a voice and telling our stories. She has also taught me that a home is a home wherever you make it. It can be wherever you want it to be-whether that is in the city or on the reserve. Your home can be made to reflect the worldview you believe in.

At Wesley-Esquimaux’s home on Georgina Island, you see history of the past intermingled with the present. Her place reflects her interest in bridging the gap between Native heritage of the past and the contemporary contributions that Natives make today. It is in the artwork that adorns her walls and the wide range of books that is a book lover’s dream to look through. I remember when I stood on that deck,  took in what was around me and walked down to the waters not far from her house, how transformed I became.  It is easy to look at the lake, and see the changes that have happened in it. Where it once was clear and now it is murky. You cannot help but wonder what the future holds for such a beautiful place, when there is such change happening elsewhere.

Wesley-Esquimaux’s impact to change the perception of Aboriginal Canada has not only affected me, it has impacted many students, including Raigelee Alorut, an Inuit woman from Iquluit.  Alorut stated that it was through Dr. Cynthia Wesley-Esquimaux that she learned to discover more things about herself and how “ I see the world differently,” because Wesley-Esquimuax imparted “we cannot change the past, but we can learn to live with what has happened by finding our voice and we can gather strength each time we tell our stories.”

For generations, according to Wesley-Esquimaux, “First Nations women’s voices were silenced in historical narratives that sidestepped their influence and power,” and “today First Nations women are increasingly using those voices to reclaim lost stories and narratives.”(20)

Through Wesley-Esquimaux and other influential First Nations women, I am learning to rebound from negative experiences and awakening a social and cultural resiliency that I never thought was in me before. I have learned much from my visit to Georgina Island. I have learned in Wesley-Esquimaux’s words “to scale the wall of personal, community and national resistance,” by learning to open my eyes and see that within I have a voice that needs to be heard, and as a First Nations woman, through story I can help to further the change in how Aboriginal Canada is perceived.

It is time for me to head back to the mainland. I know my ride is waiting. I reluctantly stand up from my perch on the rocks at the edge of Lake Simcoe. I brush myself off and pull my jacket closer to me. The curtain that was once around me has risen. My reverie is broken, by the reality that I have to head back to Toronto. I pull out my camera. I want to capture the stillness that surrounds me, just in case my memory forgets.

Before I climb up to the road, I take out some tobacco, and gently sprinkle it on the waters that stretch before me. As I watch it slowly being swept away by the waters, I say Chi miigwetch for what I have learned, and what I have seen. I turn to walk away, but I am not sad. I know that I will be back.

Works Consulted:

Guthrie-Valaskaksi, G. Dion, Stout, M. Guimond, E, Restoring the Balance: First Nations Women, Community and Culture.  University of Manitoba Press. 2009.

Maracle, Lee. Class discussion, 2010.

Native Canadian newsletter; Native Canadian Centre of Toronto. 2005