The Scandinavian holdouts are embroiled in land disputes with their respective Sámi populations. If you’d like to learn more, Minority Rights Group International has published summaries of these struggles in Finland and in Sweden. (Norway, meanwhile, ratified the Convention way back in 1990, an interesting contrast when you consider it has the region’s largest Sámi population by far.)
Not long after complaints to UBC’s Museum of Anthropology compelled it to cancel a series of portraits of missing and murdered women from Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, a family member of one of the victims has spoken out in defense of the exhibition.
In a recent article in the Georgia Straight, Ernie Crey — brother of Dawn Crey, whose DNA was discovered on serial-killer Robert Pickton’s pigfarm in 2004 — felt the Museum made “the wrong decision,” adding that “this issue needs to be talked about, reflected on, all across British Columbian society,” notwithstanding the additional stress it might cause the victims’ families to have the exhibit take place.
aptn National News had a very interesting story on Friday (Jan 14/11) which you can now view on their website.
After supposedly hearing a flood of complaints from its residents, the Cree community of Ouje-Bougoumou in northern Quebec has taken the rather unusual step of banning ‘native spirituality practices’ including sweatlodges, pow wows, rain dances, etc.
It all started when a resident of the community built a sweat lodge and a shelter surrounding it. A petition was distributed, community meeting held and a resolution passed to ban ‘native spirituality practices’ and dismantle the sweat lodge and anything related to it.
According to the resolution, ceremonies of these kind ‘do not conform with the traditional values and teachings of our Elders,’ because ‘the majority of Ouje-Bougoumou members are Christian-faith oriented and have strong Christian values’.
Now I’m all for the right of any First Nation to exercise its right to govern, but doesn’t this cross a serious line? Should any First Nation have the right to limit freedom of religion?
This week, developments in the disparate fields of arts and law had something in common according to critics: the undue appropriation of Aboriginal voices by non-Aboriginal people.
In the first case, we find Tony Merchant, a controversial lawyer attempting to sue Canada on behalf of thousands of people who feel they’ve been unfairly denied the recognition and rights that go with Indian Status, a move some would likely argue is just another case of Merchant “exploit[ing] vulnerable clients in his quest for the big cheque.”
In the second case, we have artist Pamela Masik, whose exhibition of 69 paintings entitled ‘the Forgotten’ has been indefinitely cancelled by the UBC Museum of Anthropology after criticisms that her depictions of missing and murdered women (many of them Aboriginal) “exoticizes” and commodifies their subjects to the professional and material benefit of their creator.
Basically, Merchant and Masik both stand accused of ‘stealing’ or misappropriating an unfair share of the benefits that go with advocating on behalf of others.
To me, these situations offer a useful opportunity to discuss a larger question: when — if ever — it’s okay for non-Indigenous people to act and/or speak on behalf of Aboriginal people. In principle, the quick and easy answer is ‘never.’ In practice, it may be more complicated.
Typically, when I first come across a story of yet another non-Aboriginal person taking credit or cash for ‘helping’ Aboriginal people, my initial impulse is to presuppose their motivations are less than altruistic.
On the face of it, this is patently unfair and journalistically unprofessional. That said, one only has to examine the socio-economic status of the long-suffering majority of Aboriginal people in Canada to appreciate the source and basis of this presupposition. And, hey, there’s no shortage of examples where Canadian governments and business go back on their word or otherwise ignore/manipulate Indigenous interests (recent half-hearted, heavily qualified ‘support‘ of “free, prior and informed consent” notwithstanding). Any exception tends to prove the rule.
Ideally, however, we must try to approach every situation as unique and with fresh eyes. And while my history-honed instincts tell me to give these two the doubt of the benefit, I would briefly ask your indulgence as I explore the “grey zones” of this issue.
That Merchant is in this at least partially for the money is hardly a newsflash. He’s a lawyer in a litigious society. And what artist doesn’t appreciate notoriety?
The first question to ask here is whether an Aboriginal lawyer or artist could and/or would do the same things. Are people saying either of these acts are innately unethical (that is, in and of themselves) — or is it only because a Native lawyer or artist didn’t do them first?
Another question: absent these legal and artistic actions, would Aboriginal interests be better or worse off? Are there what might be deemed some “net” positive outcomes to their actions? If so, does that in any way justify the process that produced them?
(In the cases of Merchant and Masik, could one perhaps argue that more Canadians now know about the issues involved — the inequities in denying Status and the tragedy of murdered/missing women — because of the greater awareness generated by their respective actions?)
Yet another question: when is it critical that we as Aboriginal people take the lead on our issues, and when can we simply tolerate the ‘trade-off’ that comes with accepting help (from wherever and whomever it comes)? What cost-benefit criteria should we use to assess such trade-offs?
I think the debate is important because, like it or not, non-Aboriginal involvement and support in Aboriginal struggles is unavoidable. And, frankly, inter-ethnic solidarity can and does make a difference. The bigger question I suppose is where and when to draw the line. I invite you to pull out your markers.
At eight years old, he says he was chosen by bimhachiiwhasoo, the Life Giver, to bring healing and to help others.
Harry Snowboy, a medicine man from the Cree Nation of Chisasibi in northern Quebec, has done something few others in his position have. He’s written a book about his life, and perhaps most interestingly, how he became a medicine man.
A Voice from the Wilderness: a Cree Shaman’s Story was released in November 2010. An excerpt (pdf) is viewable at the Seven Generations Healing Network website.
Snowboy recently sat down with MEDIA INDIGENA to talk about his unique book, why he wrote it, and what’s next.
Why did you decide to write this book?
The book was for my own healing. I didn’t realize how much hurt I carried.
There were things that happened in my life. I didn’t know why I reacted the way that I did. I wanted to know what was going on. Like everyone else, I went through events in my life that affect my life. It happened one day when I was passing by my daughter’s room and she was writing in her diary. When I saw that, it clicked. In order for me to get to know myself I would have to dig into my own life.
What I decided to do one early morning was I started to write. I couldn’t stop. I went as far back my memory goes back — to the day I was born. I began from there. For me it was a healing journey.
Were you concerned about writing things that are considered sacred?
Yes, I was. In the book I talk about the ceremonies, but I don’t reveal much about them.
But there are some things people have to know. People can adopt our culture or our ways, but there’s a connection also given and it was given to where those ceremonies originated from.
Have there been any negative reactions to your book?
No, I haven’t heard any negative reactions.
What are you hoping people can take away from your book?
That they will come a little closer.
This book is not only about me, this is also a book about a calling. In the book, the Creator, Lifegiver, or God — whatever is most comfortable for you — God called me when I was eight years old and again when I was twenty years old. When I went into my forties, I was actually able to talk to Him. He didn’t call me, He called people through me that’s the way he made me understand. He said to me, ‘Your mission is to bring people closer to me.’
There is another book forthcoming. What will that be about?
That book will talk about the rites of passage, the initiation rite. The same rites that I was taken through as a child.
I also talk more about the voice, what I call ‘voice,’ about what He is talking about. And I talk about my teachers. This book is more about my work and experiences.
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aptn National News had a very interesting story on Friday (Jan 14/11) which you can now view on their 
