To give you a bit of context I am a white male in my 30’s. I grew up in Simcoe Ontario and I am making efforts to be aware of the privilege that I was born into.
My wife is from Six Nations and our daughter is here everyday at her grandparents house while my wife and I are at work.
I still have a lot to learn about native culture, politics, and history, but after being with my wife for the past 10+ years, and working for the Two Row Times for almost two years, I have learned a lot.
After visiting the northern fly-in communities of Sandy Lake, Deer Lake, Pikangikum and Cat Lake this past week with the Dreamcatcher Foundation and talking with the people who live there, I have to say that I’m pretty ashamed to call myself a Canadian.
We have an obligation as Canadians, to honour our commitments to the 634 First Nations (speaking more than 50 surviving languages) that have allowed us to share this land with them.
When our ancestors came to North America it was these nations who helped us survive the winter. It was these nations who fought with us in war, who worked with us in peace. Canada would not be here if it wasn’t for the various First Nations that helped us and worked with us along the way.
And so when I see the lack of resources provided to these communities, resources that every other Canadian community is provided with, I can’t help but to be ashamed that the country that I live in would treat people this way.
I’m sure the conservative government could come up with any number of excuses as to why these communities aren’t receiving the funding they require to meet the basic needs of their population. I would say that there is no excuse in the world that would justify my government’s actions.
I heard stories of housing projects that had to cut corners because of a lack of funding, and the houses were condemned within 5 years because of mould. Stories about an elementary school library that is full of books and a beautiful storytelling corner that is sitting dark with the door locked because there is no funding for a librarian. Stories of rural communities with no school bus, entire communities running out of fuel in the winter, 2L bottles of pop costing $6, $14 bags of milk. And it breaks my heart. I think about all the children, that could very easily be my daughter, and the struggles that they face every day. And I think about how it doesn’t have to be that way. It shouldn’t be that way. It’s 2015 and Canada is a prosperous country.
Even if we weren’t required to provide this funding under all of the various treaties between Canada and First Nations, which we are – it shouldn’t be this way. And even if, contrary to popular belief, native people living within Canada didn’t pay taxes, which they do – it shouldn’t be this way. And even if there was a legitimate excuse as to why we weren’t providing these communities with funding, which there isn’t.
These communities consist of children, parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, grandmas, and grandpas. They consist of People. And they deserve better than the level of service that my government has provided for them. And for that I am truly sorry.
But in spite of everything that I saw, in spite of everything they have to deal with, I was inspired by the people I met. I was inspired by their love of their community and inspired by how warmly I was received – inspired by what I could learn from them.
And if we as Canadians are going to be proud of our connection to First Nations, if we’re going to be proud of what it means to be Canadian.
Then we’re going to have to take a long hard look at how we honour our legal commitments to First Nations, especially those communities in the far north.
The craziest aspect of this whole situation is that the stronger the native communities are, the more self sufficient they are, the better that is for Canada.
I hope that one day I’ll be able to say that I’m proud to be Canadian, but until we address the issues facing the people that have literally been there since day one to support us, I won’t be able to.
