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Today, June 21, is Canada’s National Aboriginal Day. This morning, like most other days, I woke up, made my coffee, and sat down to read the news. The consensus seems to be that today is a day to celebrate Aboriginal cultures and to remember our vibrant history within Canada.

In the newspapers, stories of celebration and cultural performance encourage all Canadians to learn about us, to let us share our cultures with them, and to celebrate Aboriginals as part of Canada’s strong foundation of diversity. And, like most other days, I also read stories about the ongoing struggles for Indigenous land rights, protection of Indigenous grave sites, and recognition of high rates of violence. Yet I further notice that coverage of these concurrent realities — the celebration and the struggles — seem to be kept very separate, as though they cannot exist together, or are somehow irreconcilable in the minds of Canadians and the federal government.

The Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development website declares National Aboriginal Day as kickstarting 11 days of their “Celebrate Canada” festivities. This spirit of celebration and focus on cultural performance is at the heart of this Day’s definition and vision, which seems to encourage a singular message: that Aboriginal people are welcomed into Canada only as dancers, singers and cultural artifacts.

This vision disempowers Aboriginal peoples’ struggles to gain sovereignty, to settle land and resource disputes, and to define ourselves not as subjects of Canada but as citizens of our own nations, on our own terms. Defining our cultural traditions as merely part of Canada’s history takes away their political significance as our systems of law, governance and identity. This is no coincidence, as the federal government would obviously not encourage a day to support the recognition of Indigenous nations as sovereign entities.

So what does it mean for us, as Indigenous peoples, to celebrate this day? Are there ways we can re-signify our cultural performances on our own terms, and, in the process, remind Canadians that our songs and dances are much more than just lunchtime entertainment? What does it mean for us to be put on display, without recognition of the struggle it has taken for our survival?

Where I live, here on Coast Salish territories, we might remind people that local practices like the potlatch were banned under the Indian Act for over 80 years, and only survived because of the resilience and determination of our ancestors to keep our worldviews and systems of governance alive. The dances and songs are inherently politically charged, and are part of our identity as survivors of genocidal policies. These histories cannot be separated from our cultural practices — regardless of the government’s attempts to reframe and recast them as celebrations of Canada’s multicultural history.

Many Aboriginal organizations and communities use this day as an opportunity to showcase the strength and resilience of Indigenous youth and elders, focusing on their success, agency and vibrancy. In this way, I suppose we might look at redefining National Aboriginal Day in terms that benefit us and our communities. Yet I worry that this only continues to feed into the government message about this day, and the subordinate role we have in Canada’s story about itself as a country without a history of colonial violence.

And so, for all these reasons, I will not be celebrating Canada’s National Aboriginal Day today. Rather, I will do what I do every day: putting my energy into cultivating the strength, resilience and beauty of our Indigenous communities, and doing so for ourselves, on our own terms.

I will try to cultivate understanding and education among and between non-Indigenous and Indigenous peoples. I will continue in my efforts to build networks of support and solidarity for the struggles facing Aboriginal communities, all in order to create a brighter future for the generations to follow.

And I will give thanks to my ancestors for keeping our cultural practices alive despite the government’s attempts to squash them — initially through the Indian Act, and now through the stripping away of these practices’ political significance.

National Aboriginal Day is no friend of mine. Only when every day becomes a day for the recognition of Indigenous self-determination, and the simultaneous recognition of the harms of colonialism, will I ever be able to truly celebrate.

An interesting theory has been floated in the Vancouver Sun by “an 87-year-old retired West Coast sea captain” about the Northern Gateway pipelines.

In his editorial “Harper gov’t playing ‘shell game’ on pipeline,” Capt. Edward Wray alleges that “the [federal government’s] and Enbridge’s so-called plan” for the ultimate route relies on a diversionary strategy: get people so worked up about the one “egregious and unsavoury” route (ending in Kitimat, B.C.) that they’ll readily settle for another, “safer” option (“most likely” terminating in Prince Rupert, B.C.).

After making his case for this line of argument Wray layers in another piece of speculation, namely, how Aboriginal interests would fare under this scenario:

It is my understanding that in order to pass legal muster in regards to passing this [Northern Gateway project] through First Nations’ territory, the government must both “consult” these communities and “accommodate” their interests. It appears this fall-back may be the “accommodation” necessary to meet that legal test, if the First Nations challenge the decision in court.

Now, in Canadian jurisprudence, the federal/Crown duty to consult and accommodate Aboriginal peoples’ rights under the Constitution and treaties is, shall we say, fluid and evolving. The question is: how vulnerable is this duty to the kind of cynical politicking posited by Ret’d Capt. Wray? Counter-theories and further articulations welcomed.

This week, the Canadian oil and gas company Enbridge — operator of “the world’s longest, most sophisticated crude oil and liquids transportation system” — released a statement claiming that, with regard to Aboriginal support of the proposed Northern Gateway pipeline project, it has confirmed that

Almost 60 percent of eligible Aboriginal communities along the [desired route], representing 60 per cent of the First Nations’ population (and 80 per cent of the combined First Nations’ and Metis’ population), have agreed to be part owners of the proposed Northern Gateway pipelines … Half of the equity units taken up went to groups in British Columbia, and the other half to groups in Alberta.

According to a CBC.ca report, an estimated 18 communities may have accepted the deal thus far. However, when it came to naming those agreeable communities, Enbridge was tight-lipped, stating it is “contractually prohibited from disclosing the identities of our Aboriginal partners at this time. Public disclosure is a matter for individual communities.”

On one level, it seems that figuring out who constitutes ‘the Enbridge 18’ would be a more or less simple process of elimination. For example, the Coastal First Nations alliance issued a press release just hours after Enbridge did, counter-claiming that

“[Of] all the First Nations on the pipeline route west of Prince George [that we have checked with], only two First Nations have signed equity agreements,” says [CFN executive director Art] Sterritt … Sterritt says the numbers being bandied about by Enbridge are flawed. “Enbridge expanded its pipeline corridor by 80 kilometres to increase its numbers. Many of these communities that have signed on are located outside of the areas that will be most impacted by a spill.”

Meanwhile, according to an April 3, 2012 Vancouver Sun article, dozens of BC First Nations “along the pipeline route, Fraser River and coast … [have] signed their names to [the ‘Save the Fraser‘] declaration calling for an ‘unbroken wall of opposition’ to pipelines and oil tankers along B.C.’s coast.” The map shown above (produced by the affiliated Yinka Dene Alliance) depicts the boundaries of that wall.

That same Sun piece indicated it’s a different story in Alberta, in that most First Nations there “have not said whether they support or reject the 1,172-kilometre pipeline.” The only one prepared to go on the record — the 2,000-member Cree community of Driftpile First Nation — did so to register their opposition to Northern Gateway.

On the Métis side of things, opinion appears split, at least in British Columbia: the BC Métis Federation shared its “extreme disappointment” back in April and more recently over the decision by Métis Nation British Columbia (MNBC) to sign an equity deal with Enbridge.

But beyond this, the picture remains incomplete. Which, to me, seems like a prime opportunity for some investigation of the crowdsourcing variety.  That’s where the widely-distributed individual efforts of the many are pooled together toward one goal.

In this case, my open call for assistance asks that anyone who should happen to live in/near an Alberta/BC First Nation falling within 80 km of the proposed pipeline route (or know of someone else who does) is asked to please confirm/deny whether said First Nation is one of the 18 to have supposedly signed an Enbridge agreement.

If/when you do, I’d ask that you tell me so in the comments section below; I will draw on them here, amending the master list as I go.