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  • What’s next for Idle No More? Why provincial governments should matter to the movement

    With Idle No More entering a new phase (one we might simply call “Winter” – a time for Anishinaabe people to reflect, tell stories, educate and plan for the future), there is much to consider concerning the previous two months of spirited activism.

    For me, there has come the realization that there’s been a general absence of attention paid by the movement to the role of provincial governments in perpetuating the challenges facing Indigenous communities. Considering that Idle No More has been a movement about protecting the land, it’s curious that the provinces — which have “jurisdiction” over lands and resources — have been left alone. That should change.

    Recently, the Ontario Premiership changed hands after Kathleen Wynne won her campaign to become the new Liberal leader (and hence Premier) in late January. Many in First Nations communities were actually pleased by this development. As Minister of Education, Wynne spearheaded the 2007 First Nations, Metis and Inuit Education Policy Framework, and, as Minister of Aboriginal Affairs, she visited numerous communities in central Ontario, even supporting the Anishinaabek Nation’s desire for increased jurisdiction over social policy. But, that said, she’s also demonstrated no willingness to deviate from the existing provincial approach to land and resource management in the north, an approach that can only be described as colonial.

    As Wynne elaborated on her plans for transit, rural Ontario and the economy, lawyers representing Ontario were putting the finishing touches on their appeal of a 2011 Superior Court decision that had ruled the treaty rights of the community of Grassy Narrows (Asubpeeschoseewagong) trumped Ontario’s right to issue timber harvesting permits within Ojibwe territory. While the court effectively said that the right of the Grassy Narrows people to feed themselves was greater than the right of Ontario to allow multinational pulp and paper companies to clear-cut old growth forests, lawyers representing Ontario disagreed, and they are currently trying to override treaties and steal jurisdiction of the community’s lands and resources.

    Five members of the so-called “KI 6”

    Grassy Narrows isn’t alone in experiencing this type of assault. In 2008, Ontario filed injunctions against the Chief and Council of Kitchenuhmaykoosib Inninuwug (KI), who had parked their boats in the path of float-planes carrying prospectors eager to exploit platinum from Inninuwug territory. The community ignored the injunction orders; consequently, the Council was sent to jail for six months. A nearly identical scenario occurred in Algonquin territory that same year when community members were ordered by injunction to end their blockade of a uranium mining road. They refused and likewise ended up in jail, serving six months for their efforts at preventing such exploration on unsurrendered Algonquin lands.

    On the heels of these oppressive approaches to the relationship, the province sought to institutionalize a process to mitigate these conflicts (as well as continue to facilitate development). In 2010, Ontario introduced the Far North Act (Bill 191), claiming that its purpose was to provide “land use planning in the Far North that directly involves First Nations.” Indeed the legislation employs the term ‘First Nation’ fifty-five times in 24 terse sections. And yet, literally as the legislation was being passed, Anishinaabe people were protesting on the steps of the legislature. They had even “condemned” the new law.

    According to the Nishnawbe-Aski Nation (NAN), the political organization representing 49 northern communities, Ontario conducted very few consultations on the Bill. Moreover, the Far North Act presumed Ontario had the right to:

    • set aside 225,000 square kilometres for conservation without First Nations’ input;
    • exclude the construction of transmission lines, mineral staking and exploration from planning;
    • assign ultimate control of the land use planning process entirely to the government (not only are community land use plans subject to ministerial approval, they can be re-opened and violated at his/her sole discretion).

    This discussion is all the more salient when considering the so-called northern Ontario “Ring of Fire.” That’s the name attached to the discovery of a wide band of chromite, a find some consider to be the “most promising mining deposit in a century.” (For a better sense of the Ring relative to area First Nations, see these Toronto Star and National Post graphics.) Ontario is keen to exploit the resource, even creating a “Ring of Fire Secretariat” to co-ordinate and accommodate the various interests/stakeholders in the north, including the Anishinaabe and Mushkego peoples. Indeed, when Marten Falls First Nation expressed concern with the project, the Minister of Mines was on the first plane out to deliver fresh fruit and Government of Ontario golf shirts, hoping to smooth over relations.

    But what cause do we have to believe that Ontario is changing course from its colonial approach to the north? Will the Ring of Fire be any different from the relationship with Grassy Narrows, or KI, or the other fifty northern communities affected by the Far North Act? Can we put faith in a sympathetic new Premier to change trajectory? Leaders like Donny Morris, Chief at KI, are skeptical. In fact, he was recently forced to tell Ontario: “Your policies don’t apply… get out of our territory.” We should all take heed, for the hardline may be the only way to prevent the continuing disrespect and exploitation of lands and people that is common practice for provinces in this country.

    Moreover, if the people in the Idle No More movement are serious about protecting the land (and I believe they are), they might consider a shift in emphasis: a shift toward bringing pressure on provincial governments, the institutions most often alienating Indigenous people from their lands in contemporary times (be it in Ontario or elsewhere). Whether it’s organizing rallies/protests at legislatures, providing resources for court cases, spreading awareness about northern policies, supporting lobbying organizations like NAN and Treaty #3, even hosting public debates on the utility and viability of economic development in the north, this is one fight that some in the Idle No More movement should consider joining. Winter will be over soon.

    Photos: CPT (KI 6), University of Waterloo (Ring of Fire)

  • Get out your wallets: Ottawa appeals ruling on Métis and Non-Status Indians

    We knew that other shoe had to drop eventually.

    The Minister of Aboriginal Affairs says Ottawa has to challenge the Federal Court ruling ordering the federal government to recognize its responsibilities for the concerns of Métis and Non-Status Indians. Effectively, the Court had concluded that Ottawa must regard Métis and non-status Indians as “Indians” under the Constitution. But Minister John Duncan says the ruling can’t be accepted at face value because it’s not affordable:

    “Our government must ensure that programs and services to Aboriginal Peoples are fiscally sustainable.”

    Put more bluntly, if those 400,000 Métis and 200,000+ off-reserve Indians who went to Federal Court were to count as “Indians” constitutionally, it would break the bank. The assumption here is that hundreds of thousands of people were going to come seeking cash money; no word about the dignity, fairness and self-worth mentioned by Betty-Anne Lavallée of the Congress of Aboriginal Peoples when the decision came down last month. No, it’s all about government having the flexibility to spend money where it wants, when it wants to. And if that’s advertising or jets, that’s what it is.

    Never mind what Judge Michael Phelan wrote in the Federal Court decision:

    There is no dispute that the Crown has a fiduciary relationship with aboriginal people both historically and pursuant to section 35 (of the Constitution).

    Never mind too that Phelan specifically stipulated:

    “That duty is not an open-ended undefined obligation but must be focused on a specific interest.”

    Never mind the specific interests of some of the interested parties are simply to get the federal government to acknowledge the existence of, and responsibility to, a unique people rather than trying to palm them off on the provinces as some sort of resident dissidents.

    When I wrote about this last month, I mentioned that we should all expect some dancing on the head of a pin.

    If history is anything to go by, this is going to be yet another expensive Arthur Murray experience.

  • From pain and fear to hope: a First Nation girl’s battle against a rare cancer

    Kara-Tess and mother Una Belanger, CancerCare Manitoba.

    “You just have to do it, otherwise you just end up crying,” says Una Belanger.

    Life for the mother of five has been dominated by hospital visits, sleepless nights, parking tickets and arranging babysitters.

    “I’d come home for a few hours for the night and make sure everything was ready for the next day,” Una says tiredly. “We’d end up eating fast food, lots of burgers.”

    While life for Una and her family was tough, she knew it paled in comparison to what her youngest daughter was going through. In February 2011, Kara-Tess Belanger was diagnosed with rhabdomyosarcoma, an extremely rare and fast-growing muscle cancer.

    By the time she was 10 years old, Kara-Tess had endured 28 radiation treatments and surgeries for both chemotherapy and gastric feeding. During the first few months of treatment, Kara-Tess had also suffered a stroke. Known as Posterior Reversible Encephalopathy Syndrome (PRES), it was brought on by the multitude of drugs she was taking to prevent her organs from shutting down.

    The disease and the aggressive treatment took their toll on Kara-Tess.  She lost her hair and any semblance of a normal childhood. Though still just a child herself, Kara-Tess also learned that she would never bear children. “That is one thing I know as women want and to have to go through that as a young girl, it’s a lot,” says Una.

    The cancer started in Kara-Tess’ mouth. “I knew something was wrong because she was constantly chewing things and spitting it out,” recalls Una. “She didn’t want to swallow because she said it felt like there was a chicken bone in her throat.”

    With the issue not immediately showing up in MRI and CT scans, it was only after a biopsy that the doctors confirmed it was cancerous. “The first few months, even after radiation I was hoping they made a mistake,” says Una.

    Kara-Tess Belanger, 10 years old.

    Kara-Tess is among the approximately 55 children diagnosed every year with rhabdomyosarcoma in Canada. “It’s a more common cancer in children than in adults,” says Dr. Yanofsky, Kara-Tess’ pediatric oncologist at CancerCare Manitoba. “We treat all the Manitoba kids and some from northwestern Ontario and in Nunavut. We might have two new patients under the age of 17 per year with this type of cancer.”

    Rhabdomyosarcoma can continue to grow during treatment or return once treatment is finished. “For most cancers it’s very different to cure if it comes back,” says Dr. Yanofsky.

    Kara-Tess is one of the first children to undergo a new experimental therapy known as Regimen B — a combination of chemotherapy, surgery and drugs.

    Together, the illness and its treatment took a huge toll on an already stressed family. One sibling is epileptic and requires a lot of attention; another sibling struggled with the stress of  his sister’s condition. “He was there right at the beginning,” says Una. “He would stay up waiting a lot of the times.”

    Then there were the financial difficulties. Her father suffered depression that left him unable to work and Una underwent intestine surgery and she had to go on disability. The only positive news the family received during this difficult period was the time their older twin sons were both drafted to play for the University of Regina Rams football team.

    Perhaps surprisingly, it was Kara-Tess who kept them all together, according to her mother. “She didn’t let me cry,” says Una.  She always said, ‘Don’t worry mom everything is going to be fine, I’m going to be okay.’”

    Kara-Tess at Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation fashion fundraiser

    Sure enough, in March 2012 the family received an answer to their prayers. “The doctor called and said she’s fine,” says Una. Since then, Kara-Tess has been regaining her strength, now weighing 98 lbs after dropping to a mere 66 lbs. Her hair is beginning to grow back and her feet and hand coordination are slowly returning.

    Kara-Tess also returned to school in September 2012. But that has not been without its own challenges, says Una: “Kids would pull her hair off. They’d pull her wig or toque that she was wearing and she was called names.”

    But it seems the bullying has not slowed Kara-Tess down since her recovery. She has started a Facebook group called ‘Help Me Fight My Cancer‘ dedicated to other children living with cancer. “She thought that was a good idea,” says Una. “She always said ‘Pray for others.’” Kara-Tess also recently took part in a fashion show fundraiser for the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation.

    Family vacation at Walt Disney, Orlando, Florida.

    And then there’s been those opportunities where Kara-Tess gets to just be a kid. The family recently took a trip to Disney World to celebrate courtesy of the Dream Factory, an organization dedicated to making dreams come true for children living with disease or other challenges.

    But the family still lives with uncertainty. For the next ten years, Kara-Tess will go through a series of MRI and CT scans, testing for possible cancer cells.

    “I try not to go there and think about it,” admits Una. I’m just praying that it’s gone.”

  • In the Spirit of Crazy Dance: Why rounddancing is revolutionary

    First they ignore you
    Then they laugh at you
    Then they fight you
    Then you win

    — Gandhi

    A few years ago, I wrote a column for some newspaper, long-since-forgotten and probably no longer around. (I hate to think that I might’ve had anything to do with its demise, but you never know.) Anyway, my article was a critique about canned demonstrations put on by so many Indian organizations (as they were known then). The demonstrations didn’t work. I said so.

    They might’ve worked once, I remember writing, but they had since become boring and oh-so-predictable, more like funeral marches. The organizations had to press their staff into the streets to carry placards, pre-printed for every occasion, just to make it look like a decent demo. I called it “Dial-a-Demo,” complete with instant indignation — just add chanting.

    The news media went to cover these events out of a sense of duty rather than genuine interest, curiosity or thirst for a story. Formulaic demonstrations begat formulaic reporting. Each story began and ended the same way. Most of their stories still do. It’s a familiar formula and not much different from the way TV reporters cover powwows. Permit me to share its elements according to its predictable sequence.

    ◊ ◊ ◊

    INDIAN PROTESTS:
    THE NIGHTLY NEWS SCRIPT

    First, cue the drums and chanting.

    (What’s this got to do with the issue, you ask? Nothing. This is TV news; incomprehension is the name of the game.

    Next, roll the disembodied reporter’s voice in monotone over pictures. He says a number of NDNs aren’t happy.

    (We’re not sure why, not in any human terms that we viewers might understand, anyway. That doesn’t seem to matter to the reporter. As a result, we — the viewers — don’t much care either.)

    Zoom in to unsmiling, dour-looking faces of people holding placards with familiar slogans.

    (Where have we seen that one before?)

    Switch to shot of drummers holding one hand over an ear, as they chant at the top of their lungs while beating the crap out of a big drum with the other hand.

    (Meanwhile, anything the disembodied off-camera reporter says is lost because we viewers are straining to listen to the drummers. Luckily, it doesn’t matter, because the reporter isn’t saying anything important or new.)

    Insert clip of a chief. The chief says he’s against something.

    (BOR-ing. I mean, c’mon: dude doesn’t even have one of those neat-o Plains headdresses, the ones that scream ‘Hollywood.’ What is he, Mi’kmaq from Nova Scotia, maybe, or Innu from northern Quebec? Ah, who the hell cares about details like that, anyway? They’re all basically abodigitals. Seen one, seen ’em all, right?)

    Moving on… insert some more placards and chanting.

    (Gotta love those action shots that have nothing to do with the issue. But, who cares: this is TV, people. Can’t do a story about Indians unless we show Indians with drums and chanting. No drums and no chanting means no story: a reporter actually told me this once.)

    Insert a clip of a government official or politician saying there’s no need to worry because the NDNs won’t be getting what they want.

    (The official or politician doesn’t have to say anything that makes sense. As reporters, you don’t need to care. You just need a clip from him or her to provide “balance.” And by balance, that means the amount of face-time, not the quality of ideas.)

    Now, let’s go out with more pictures and sound of chanting and drumming. And let’s have more of those unsmiling faces holding placards.

    (Geez… The way they’re carrying on, you’d almost think these demonstrators didn’t want to be there.)

    We face two choices for the possible ending of this mini-epic. Either we have a reporter’s monotonous voice atop some background sound and pictures of chanting Indians, or, we can use an on-camera reporter’s ‘standup,’ telling us that no one got hurt, and nothing was settled.

    (Either way, us viewers can come back from the kitchen with that beer now because this story is finally over. Whew! We are outta here.)

    ◊ ◊ ◊

    And so it went, demo after demo. Back when I was assigned to cover yet another anti-poop-and-scoop demonstration, I remember thinking this must feel much the same as those reporters sent out to cover Indian protests. Begin with dog barking, rollicking in park. Clip of owner saying dog poop is nature’s way of fertilizing grass. More dogs at play. Clip of city official saying stoop-and-scoop by-law is city’s way of making doggy depressed, so perhaps dog whisperer’s business might benefit.  End with shots of distressed-looking mutt having a poop.

    “Give me strength,” I’d pray to myself as we zoomed out of the bat cave on yet another mission to inform and entertain Canada’s viewing public, “if I have to do one more of these paint-by-numbers stories, I swear I’m gonna go postal.” But, as I worked for the Queen’s Corp, I managed to delude myself that I was “On Her Majesty’s Service” with each and every mission.

    toyi-toyiThen came enlightenment, and it came when I learned how to toyi-toyi in South Africa. In that instant, I learned that demonstrations weren’t for politicians, blah-blah-blah speeches, or organizations pushing this or that issue. I learned that real demonstrations are about people and spirit. For blacks in the latter stages of apartheid, toyi-toying was their way of showing their disdain for the South African authorities. That’s right: by dancing. Sometimes they danced with pretend weapons (small sticks instead of real spears) in the face of overwhelming armed force. Can you imagine anything less threatening, yet more unsettling, to squads of heavily-armed riot police and soldiers than a crowd of smiling, singing, unarmed people who refuse to be afraid? Sometimes, the authorities weren’t even a teeny-tiny bit amused. (See the toyi-toyi ‘in action’ for yourself here.)

    Why was the toyi-toyi so effective?  Because it said in ways that words can’t that apartheid was doomed. The majority of people might have been dispossessed, reduced to abject poverty, but their spirit wasn’t broken. Laughing, smiling people dancing the toyi-toyi told apartheid that its days were numbered. The toyi-toyi said that lies told by the South African government were no longer believable, certainly not among its majority Black and colored populations, but also for a growing number of people who benefited from apartheid.

    So the next time you come across an Idle No More round dance in person, take a good, long look around: notice all the smiles you see and all the laughter you hear. Then think about the message this sends, not only to a federal government that has become all-too-scripted, but to millions of Canadian all too ready for their own chance to smile and laugh.

    [ Bottom photo: F.A.I.R. ]

  • Have media helped or hurt most Canadians’ understanding of Idle No More?


    Who speaks and acts on behalf of Idle No More?

    It’s hardly an idle question. For weeks now, a variety of ideas and actions pursued in the name of Indigenous peoples and rights have streamed forth across the pages and screens of Canadian media:

    • The week-after-week series of rallies right across Canada (and beyond) that, since mid-December 2012, have made the Idle No More movement part of the national conversation (if not always flatteringly so), a movement self-articulated as a grassroots-driven effort to “help build [Indigenous] sovereignty & resurgence of nationhood… to pressure government and industry to protect the environment… to build allies in order to reframe the nation to nation relationship”
    • Attawapiskat Chief Theresa Spence’s 40-day-plus “sacred fast,” i.e, a “hunger strike… [that] Spence originally said she would not end until both [Prime Minister Stephen] Harper and [Governor General David] Johnston agreed to meet with First Nations leaders across Canada.” Although her goals have not been met, she does appear set to end the strike after securing other forms of political support (although APTN National News reported yesterday that Spence was told by her band council that either she “end her fast or face removal as chief of the community”).
    • A joint lawsuit filed earlier this month in Federal Court by the Mikisew Cree and Frog Lake First Nations that “argu[es] that two omnibus budget bills [Bill C-38 & Bill C-45]… reduc[ing] federal environmental oversight violate the government’s treaty obligations to protect traditional Aboriginal territory.”
    • On Jan. 8, the Federal Court of Canada ruled that 200,000 Métis and 400,000 non-status Indians in Canada should be considered as ‘Indians’ under the Constitution Act, a “decision [that] helps to more clearly outline Ottawa’s responsibilities toward the two Aboriginal groups” (the Canadian government is expected to appeal, however, thereby extending the 13-year legal battle that many more years)
    • The recent Jan. 11 meeting between Harper and some (but not all) chiefs acting as representatives of the Assembly of First Nations banner — including AFN National Chief Shawn Atleo. A meeting Atleo portrayed shortly thereafter as a “frank exchange” that “won [us] a commitment to political oversight and direction from the highest level of government — from the Prime Minister, his senior officials and those of the Privy Council Office.”

    Taking it all in, I note with amazement just how much has happened in a seemingly short period of time. Of course, it’s quite arguable that much of this was already simmering and stewing beneath the surface; that, in fact, it may be the case that what we’re witnessing is just the tipping point of something that’s actually long been in the works.

    And yet, as often happens in my profession, there’s been a tendency in the media to distil this whirlwind of voices and visions, to compact it into the most concise form possible, as if to say, “Hey, all you Indians, in a soundbite or two, what is that you guys want?” As if there could only be one answer.

    But look: I get why the media does this. There’s only so much space and time you’re allotted to tell any story. You can’t quote everybody. And, lest we forget, constantly looming over the heads of reporters and editors are some unforgiving daily deadlines. Nuance and shades of grey don’t necessarily fare well under these conditions.

    Yet what may be coincident in time isn’t necessarily coherent in purpose and practice. For, when it comes to what’s driven Spence — or Atleo — or the four women (two Indigenous, two not) widely seen as founding Idle No More — or the many intellectuals (from Taiaiake Alfred to Pam Palmater) inspired by these events — or the made-for-YouTube round-dancers who’ve flashmobbed malls on both sides of the border — or the blockaders of railway tracks and roads — or those two litigious First Nations in Alberta — they each need to be taken in turn and considered separately, not thoughtlessly lumped together as one amorphous brown mass that speaks with one hive mind.

    By not properly differentiating between these actors, and their respective interests and ideas, one risks contributing to a larger sense of confusion as to who and what Idle No More is actually about — not least among Canadians at large, some of whom may even share the broader goals and ideals of the movement’s founders.

    Now, I have to confess, the full force of this potential for misunderstanding INM only really hit me last week. It came in the aftermath of a conversation I had with a Calgary-based pollster, an opportunity I had courtesy of my job as a radio host for CBC Edmonton. We asked the pollster to help put into perspective the results of a Jan. 15 opinion poll (carried out by a separate firm, Ipsos) that, inter alia, asked Canadians “a number of questions to gauge the credibility of the various players involved in last week’s events… [in order to measure] overall approval of how the various groups/people have been dealing with First Nations issues.”

    According to the Ipsos survey, Idle No More scored a national approval rating of just 38%, placing them behind more established national Aboriginal leaders like AFN’s Shawn Atleo (51%) as well as Prime Minister Stephen Harper (46%). Here’s what Return On Insight‘s Bruce Cameron had to say about what these results could mean for the movement (clicking on image launches player):

    Not long after that interview aired, as I turned over in my mind the course of our discussion, it suddenly dawned on me: if the media elects to report on Canadians’ opinions of Idle No More, shouldn’t we as reporters first establish a sense of Canadians’ actual working understanding of the movement? In other words, does the way Canadians define Idle No More’s goals match up with how those active in the movement define them? Returning to the question I opened with — the question of who speaks and acts on behalf of Idle No More — how many of those Canadians surveyed by Ipsos would know the answer?

    See, I would be pretty willing to bet that, for a good if not substantial chunk of Canadians who rely on what the media has conveyed to them about Idle No More, it’s likely been perceived as something of a moving and gelatinous target. ‘Moving’ in that, for those outside the movement, the wide array of Aboriginal actors in the news of late have probably come across to Canadians as this steady flow of unfamiliar and undifferentiated faces. It’s somewhat ‘gelatinous’ in that INM is, in some respects, like the proverbial jello that won’t be nailed to the wall in some neat and tidy way: lacking a central, single leader, INM event organizers are left to their own devices.

    So if Canadians don’t necessarily have the firmest grasp on the movement, wouldn’t that in turn raise all sorts of questions as to the greater utility and purpose of measuring their opinions on the subject? (Of course, it’s entirely possible that all surveys suffer from such issues.)

    But if Idle No More confuses those Canadians with only a passing familiarity of its goals and personalities, it’s apparently confounded many a mainstream opinion-maker, individuals in an arguably much better position to get to know more about the movement. Frustrated by an alleged lack of unity among INM’s adherents, national columnists have thus chalked it up to — and written INM off as — being supposedly plagued by ‘factionalism’ or ‘divisiveness.’ Here’s the thing: if INM’s stated raison d’être is as incoherent, “simplistic” and “absolutist” as the pundits would have you believe, then what is it that has so consistently and eagerly brought out those thousands of people in so many different places? That’s some “dream palace” they’re living in, as one screed so memorably put it.

    For the answer to that question of why INM is such a draw for some, one logical place to start would be at one of those rallies or rounddances, where you could easily go up and ask participants, Why are you here? What do you understand to be INM’s goals, and which of them speak to you the most? Does everything done in INM’s name (say, blockades) align with your beliefs and principles? Why or why not?

    And here’s something else to consider when weighing the consternated invective some opt to hurl against Idle No More: Who among them even saw it coming? Admit it — like me, Idle No More took you by surprise. Hell, I bet you many of INM’s early organizers and participants themselves were blown away by how quickly and widely it caught on. So if none of the pundits had the foresight (i.e., had no clue whatsoever) that something like INM was even possible, just how much credence and value are we supposed to attach to their opinions about it now? They didn’t see it coming, yet now they’re somehow experts on why it’s irrelevant. Hmmm...

    As a media maker, Idle No More has reminded me, yet again, just how daunting it can sometimes be to try and meet the challenge of capturing and conveying a meaningful slice of large-scale events and ideas like those mobilized by this movement. If the slice is right, you’ve left your audience better off. If not, well, clearly you’re doing it wrong.

    And, yes, INM may yet soon fade or fizzle from view. And the cynical side of me wonders whether a certain chunk of the attention it’s gotten has been due to what I might call the winter media ‘deadzone,’ that time of year — roughly mid-December until mid-January — when many in the newspaper and broadcasting business go on Christmas vacation. You’ve heard of slow-news days? Those four weeks are kind of a slow news month. So, when INM first came along Dec. 10, it was a fill-in reporter’s dream, one that conveniently and colorfully presented itself, camera-ready, to a press corps hungry for content.

    Then again, as someone who freely admits that he too failed to see it all coming, I’m feeling less than qualified to say where the movement could ultimately end up. Still, I think Murray Dobbin has it fairly right when he lays out the kinds of questions Idle No More advocates must soon come to grips with:

    As the movement continues to grow, we can only speculate on what its longer term outcome will be. Many movements begin with such spontaneous explosions of pent up anger and frustration. The successful ones find their feet quickly and are able, through collective leadership, to focus their energy and passion on a unifying vision and on some organizational form to press for its realization. Idle No More will be no different.

    [ Photos: Overpass Light Brigade ]