Tag: indigenous

Uncovering Indigenous knowledge in nature

A trail guides visitors to one of the plaques. Photos by Hussain Almahr and Maria Lucia Albarracin.

Two students explore the history of Montreal’s First Nations in the Botanical Garden

The Olympic Stadium looms in the background as snow slowly falls on The First Nations Garden. Part of the Montreal Botanical Garden, the installation was founded in 2001 with the help of Innu singer Florent Vollant. While the rest of Montreal resembles any other North American metropolis, the garden is one of the few spaces in the city that still honours its Indigenous history. However, the relationship between Indigenous knowledge and urban spaces is much more complex than a single spot in the middle of the city.

According to the Espace pour la vie Montréal website, the garden is intended to represent the knowledge of Montreal First Nations. “Native people were ecologists before the term was ever coined,” the website reads. “Over time, they acquired an intimate knowledge of nature, knowing exactly where in its natural habitat to find a particular plant to meet a specific need.” This knowledge has been suppressed by settlers’s hegemonic education system that values European traditions and actively subordinates Indigenous knowledge in the process. This settler legacy is reflected in the way the city is designed; there is a lack of visual indication that Montreal is on unceded land.

The Olympic Stadium looms in the background of the First Nations Garden. Photos by Hussain Almahr and Maria Lucia Albarracin.

The Olympic Stadium, which stands directly beside the garden, is quite indicative of the city’s priorities. The stadium is a representation of the way Montreal sought to attract visitors, grow its economy and give the city international recognition—during the Olympics, all eyes were on Montreal. The economic benefits of the stadium did not necessarily go according to plan, with maintenance costing millions of dollars, making the stadium a financial burden. According to CBC, the project cost taxpayers more than $1.5 billion dollars, despite the fact that then-mayor Jean Drapeau said there would be no deficit.

Photos by Hussain Almahr and Maria Lucia Albarracin.

The Saint Lawrence River also suffers. Mohawks, or Kanien’keh, have a special tie to the river; it is a place for traditional fishing, which provides people with a constant source of sustenance. Despite this, the Saint Lawrence is polluted and uncared for. In an interview with the CBC, Eric Kanatakeniate McComber, a local traditional fisherman, spoke about the state of the river, saying “People are so detached from the river now, they only notice it when they go over the bridge or to go to the movies. We were people of the river here, before the seaway was made 60 years ago. People used to live and fish off that river.”

This is why the First Nations Garden is important—it is a physical space that represents knowledge that has long been suppressed in Montreal. The garden provides information about plants, crafts and activities that various First Nations around Montreal continue to practice and engage with. Plaques around the garden inform visitors of the traditions and practices of various tribes. One plaque explains the differences between the canoe bark of each of the Nations; Malecite canoes have very elaborate decorations, while the Cree canoe is more rough. Birchbark was also used to make baskets and decoys with designs inspired by plants and animals, sometimes with a geometric flare.

Photos by Hussain Almahr and Maria Lucia Albarracin.

The organizers and builders of the garden consulted with various First Nations about what to include in it. One of these features is a sweat lodge, a structure made for a ritual meant to cleanse the mind and spirit, while also serving as a rite of passage. It is said that sweat lodges are also used in a ceremony to transition from one life stage to another. According to one of the plaques, from the mid 1800s until 1951, the Canadian government banned the use of sweat lodges, which affected the dissemination of traditions in many Indigenous communities. The garden’s designers decided to include a sweat lodge in order to provide a space to alleviate the stresses that Indigenous people face.

Inside a sweat lodge. Photos by Hussain Almahr and Maria Lucia Albarracin.

Mohawk elder Sedalia Fazio conducts the sweat lodge ceremonies in the garden. Fazio is outspoken when it comes to the violence that Indigenous people face. At a recent public inquiry for mistreatment of Indigenous people in Quebec, she condemned the not-guilty ruling of the killing of 22-year-old Colten Boushie.

In the city, places like the First Nations Garden are reflections of how Indigenous spaces are distinct and cordoned off, instead of being incorporated into the population’s everyday life. The colonial impact on Montreal is felt everyday, but is practically invisible to settlers. For example: Montreal’s streets are named after colonial explorers and officials. This city sits on unceded Indigenous territory, yet there are many representations of European colonialism, and very little of Indigenous peoples. According to Francis Adyanga Akena, a professor of education who studied the relationship between colonialism and the production of Indigenous knowledge in Uganda, Western education systems devalue Indigenous knowledge. This stifles the growth and emancipation of Indigenous knowledge in society as a whole, and within Indigenous communities as well.

Cattails, or passwekenak in Algonquin and pisekan in Attikamek, are commonly used as a remedy by the Algonquin people. Photos by Hussain Almahr and Maria Lucia Albarracin.

At a time when we are finally beginning to acknowledge the cultural, ecological and spiritual value of Indigenous peoples, it is crucial to also question the European foundation of Montreal.

By fostering more Indigenous places in cities, like the Native Friendship Centre of Montreal and the First Nation Garden, we can challenge the hegemony of European settler values and knowledge systems.

Story and photos by Hussain Almahr and Maria Lucia Albarracin

Categories
Opinions

O Canada, our home is Native land

Graphic by Zeze Le Lin

Quebec needs to be more honest about the province’s history of injustice towards Indigenous people

I believe that for decades, Quebec has been hiding shameful truths about the province’s past to maintain a good image. As a result, its citizens have been living in blissful ignorance for far too long, and we have made Indigenous peoples suffer for even longer.

In my opinion, a major reason Indigenous issues have seen very little progress in recent years is because generations still aren’t being told truths about Canada’s history. Most generations were taught Quebec’s history through the eyes of a white man.

Elementary and high school curriculums essentially teach students that white people have always been superior to Indigenous people, beginning with how Christopher Columbus “discovered” America. When European colonizers realized other human beings had lived on this land for centuries, they decided to convert these “savages” to Christianity and teach them the white man’s way of life—what they believed was the right way to live.

Thus, history lessons are based on excuses about the “duty” of Europeans to “civilize” Indigenous peoples for the “greater good.” Although Quebec’s high school curriculum was changed in 2017 to include more Indigenous perspectives, according to CBC News, I believe it still doesn’t do enough to explain the extent of Indigenous peoples’ struggles.

This idea of white dominance over Indigenous peoples is embedded in our brains during childhood, and I believe this is why we have not progressed as a nation. The legacy of the mistreatment of Indigenous peoples is seen today in their high rates of poverty, mental and physical health issues, food insecurity and suicide rates, according to The Globe and Mail. Not only does our history neglect those who lived on this land first, it also demeans an entire group of people.

When I was taught Quebec’s history, the material rarely mentioned First Nations people. Instead, it prioritized the history of white Quebecers. The province’s history curriculum has many undeniable flaws, but the biggest one is the failure to acknowledge and properly teach students about residential schools in Canada.

From 1880 to 1996, residential schools tore families apart and subjected Indigenous children to years of physical, sexual and mental abuse. Entire generations grew up without the chance to learn their culture, language or traditions. Residential schools resulted in a cultural genocide. Indigenous children were told that if they spoke their language or practiced their traditions, they would suffer terrible consequences.

These horrible conditions scarred generations of Indigenous peoples, and the consequences of the residential school system are still present in their communities. The infant mortality rate for some First Nations communities is nearly four times the national average, according to a 2013 CBC News article. The suicide rate for young Indigenous men are 10 times higher than those of non-Indigenous youth, according to 2000 data reported in The Guardian. Not to mention the unclean water, poor education, bad housing and lack of job prospects that many Indigenous communities face, according to the Toronto Star.

I believe these issues still exist due to a lack of awareness and care, which is something the government should be held responsible for. As a nation, we have neglected Indigenous peoples. We have let them down for centuries, and progress will never come unless the truth is taught. Future generations must learn about the impact that residential schools and colonization continue to have on Canada’s Indigenous communities. A lack of education about these issues has shielded many Canadians from the harsh reality Indigenous people face everyday.

In my opinion, this ignorance has led Quebecers to feel less empathy towards Indigenous people. More has to be done, and it needs to be done better. Our children deserve an honest education, and most importantly, First Nations people deserve to have their histories told. In the words of the wise Malala Yousafzai, an education activist, “There are many problems, but I think there is a solution to all these problems; it’s just one, and it’s education.”

Graphic by Zeze Le Lin

Categories
Opinions

Focusing on the problems in front of us

We’ve all heard the comments about Canada being a safe haven for Americans. We’ve seen Americans flee their country after electing President Donald Trump to avoid the heated political climate or deportation. Given our close proximity, comparisons are continuously made between the United States and Canada in terms of our politics, economy, healthcare, news industry and even entertainment. In most cases these days, Canada seems to come out on top.

Statistically speaking, Canada seems better than the United States on many fronts. According to Maclean’s, Canadians live 2.5 years longer than Americans; we’re also six times less likely to be incarcerated. In the United States, 46 per cent of the population obtains a college degree, whereas 59 per cent of Canadians have one.
The World Economic Forum ranks Canadians as the sixth happiest people in the world, whereas Americans rank 13th. The Cato Institute’s Human Freedom Index claims Canadians to be the sixth freest people in the world, and Americans are 23rd—even though they boast being the “land of the free.”

When considering these factors, it’s hard not to argue that Canadians are living a better life than their southern neighbours. Yet this mentality can often result in Canada’s problems—of which there are many—being taken less seriously or even ignored.

Take Indigenous issues for example. Canadians and Americans alike closely followed coverage of the Standing Rock protests against the construction of the Dakota Access Pipeline, which threatened Indigenous land and water supplies. Yet when was the last time we checked up on the progress of Canada’s national public inquiry into the murders and disappearances of Indigenous women and girls? How often do we read news stories about the numerous Indigenous communities in Canada living without access to clean drinking water, adequate healthcare or accessible education?

Similarly, from the Ferguson riots in 2014 to the recent comments made by President Donald Trump about “shithole” countries, news stories about racism seem to pour out of the United States, diluting any incidents happening here in Canada. This does not mean the treatment of marginalized groups in our country is any better.

As journalist Desmond Cole once said, “People in Canada generally will do anything to avoid talking about race.” But we need to talk about the fact that, between 2005 and 2015, the number of black inmates in Canadian prisons jumped by 69 per cent, according to The Guardian. In Toronto, 41 per cent of youth in the child welfare services are black, despite representing only eight per cent of the city’s youth population. In 2015, Canadian police recorded 159 hate crimes against Muslims, according to Global News. This was up from 45 in 2012—a 253 per cent increase.

So while Canada may seem better than the United States by comparison, that in no way absolves us of our many shortcomings as a progressive society. We must peel our eyes away from the car crash on the other side of the border, and focus on the road in front of us. We are so caught up in what’s happening on the other side of the highway that we’re creating traffic in our own lane.

Graphic by Alexa Hawksworth 

Categories
Arts

Reframing history with Scattered Remains

As part of the Oraison/Orison series, a large red net pulses up and down, mimicking the action of breathing. Photo by Mackenzie Lad.

Nadia Myre contributes her work to Woman. Artist. Indigenous. at the MMFA

Influential Indigenous artist Nadia Myre’s latest exhibition at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts (MMFA) is part of Woman. Artist. Indigenous., “a season at the museum devoted to female Indigenous artists,” according to the museum’s website.

Titled Tout Ce Qui Reste – Scattered Remains, the exhibition is a retrospective of the artist’s work, combining five of Myre’s series created since the turn of the millennium: Indian Act, Grandmother’s Circle, Oraison/Orison, Code Switching and Meditation (Respite). This selection of artworks, along with the rest of Myre’s body of work, focuses on the retelling of Indigenous history and uses traditional Indigenous art practices and found objects to challenge Western colonial narratives.

After reading the curatorial statement outside of the exhibition, viewers walk through the doorway and enter a large, dark, rectangular room. In this space, Myre’s series are nicely moulded together, with two- and three-dimensional artworks covering both the walls and floor of the room. The black walls and low lighting allow for backlighting and the white of the artworks to have an illuminating presence in the dark space.

Myre’s piece, titled Indian Act, displays the entire document covered in red and white beading. Photo by Mackenzie Lad.

The longer, perpendicular walls of the room are filled with large white-on-black photographic and textile pieces from Oraison/Orison (2014) and Code Switching (2017). The shorter wall to the left of the entrance features a looping video artwork as well as multiple images from Meditation (Respite) (2017). Across from this are more images from this series, works from the Indian Act (2000-2002) series and hanging sculptural pieces from Code Switching. The large installation works from Oraison/Orison and Grandmother’s Circle (2002) are spread out on the floor.

The curatorial presentation of the dark room and backlit artworks is both visually striking and thematically relevant, symbolizing what Myre intends to do in her work—repurpose Indigenous cultural objects to create light in a dark history.

The Indian Act artworks are perhaps the most explicit reference to Indigenous politics in the exhibition. Created with the help of many fellow Indigenous artists, this series of framed textile works takes on the challenge of covering up all 56 pages of the Indian Act using red and white glass beading. Myre’s piece draws attention to the legal rights of First Nations people in Canada, which are so often written over and ignored.

A tobacco-filled basket is part of the artist’s series titled Oraison/Orison. Photo by Mackenzie Lad.

Grandmother’s Circle is a visual depiction of the artist’s attempt to trace her heritage. She unfortunately discovered very little about her Algonquin side, due to her mother being placed in an orphanage. In this work, large wooden poles are tied and placed together to create structures in the shape of wishbones. The MMFA’s website describes them as “a barrier that symbolizes the access to ancestral wisdom that was denied to Indigenous peoples,” similar to the residential school system.

The Oraison/Orison series, made up of both print and installation works, explores the permanence of memory and the impact life events can have on our bodies. A large kinetic installation piece, made of a red fishing net, moves up and down, mimicking the action of breathing. An oversized woven basket filled with tobacco—often used in First Nations ceremonies—wafts a subtle smell throughout the gallery space. A series of prints depict the white thread stitching on the back of the Indian Act artworks, and are reminiscent of scars on one’s skin.

Another part of the Oraison/Orison series, prints of white thread hint to scars on one’s skin. Photo by Mackenzie Lad.

Circular prints from Myre’s Meditation (Respite) series depict several close-up photographs of traditional meditative beadwork. These beaded designs are inspired by Indigenous spirituality and images of the cosmos, and explore the neverending properties of the universe.

Myre’s latest series, Code Switching, was produced during an artist residency sponsored by the MMFA. The artworks in this series are made of the collected fragments of European settlers’ pipes, which were historically used along with tobacco as currency with Indigenous populations. According to the museum’s website, Myre reclaims these fragments and repurposes them, using traditional beading techniques as a way of “sparking reflection and building bridges between cultures.”

Tout Ce Qui Reste – Scattered Remains will be on display at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts until May 27. It is located in the museum’s Discovery Exhibitions section, which is free to visit for people under the age of 31. For those over 31, entry is $15 or free on the last Sunday of every month.

Feature photo by Mackenzie Lad.

Categories
Opinions

Rights and respect for the Ktunaxa Nation

Graphic by Zeze Le Lin.

What the disparity between the government’s promises of reconciliation and their actions means

It seems as though every time I tune into the news, there is a story of injustice involving Indigenous peoples in Canada.

From the original injustice of colonisation and residential schools to the increasing number of missing and murdered Indigenous women whose cases have only recently been looked into, there is a large gap of inequality between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Canadians. Not to mention the housing crisis, high rate of suicide and the gap in the quality of healthcare and education, according to The Globe and Mail. Through all of that turmoil, one word shines through and gives me hope that the Canadian government wants to take positive steps to correct these wrongs. The word is reconciliation.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines this term as “the restoration of friendly relations.” The federal government seems to want to restore friendly relations with all Indigenous people, but in my opinion, the Canadian government and people still have a long way to go to achieve true reconciliation.

On Nov. 2, the Supreme Court of Canada ruled that a Jumbo Glacier ski resort will be built on sacred land that belongs to the Ktunaxa Nation in British Columbia, according to The Globe and Mail. When asked about the situation, Kian Basso, a member of the Montagnais Nation, suggested: “The government should negotiate with the Ktunaxa Nation and try to figure out a way to meet in the middle.”

As an Indigenous person, he said he believes “it is only right that we respect the land and the people that were here before us. So I do not agree with the government taking this land because it does not belong to them, but I am not against the idea of building things on that land either. If they should build something, then it should be done with respect to the people living there and should be discussed between the two parties.” Basso’s statement refers to the lack of respect between Canada and Indigenous peoples—an issue that demands more discussion.

The Ktunaxa Nation has occupied the land in question for more than 10,000 years and use the land to worship their sacred grizzly bear spirit, according to CBC News. However, I believe it’s important to note that the Charter of Rights and Freedoms “protects the freedom to worship, but does not protect the spiritual focal point of worship.” This statement upsets me because it sets a double standard. I believe that if a church were to be torn down in order to build a ski resort, or any other luxury establishment, there would be public outrage. For the Ktunaxa Nation, their land is sacred to their culture and spiritual beliefs. I believe spirituality is equivalent to religion, so why are their beliefs not represented in the Canadian Charter?

Jill Goldberg, a specialist in Indigenous education, said, “When I heard the story, I thought, how is this even possible when we are in a time of improving relations?” She also pointed out the lack of representation in the Supreme Court. There is not one male or female Indigenous judge among the nine appointed judges. “If we want authentic reconciliation, we need to listen to them,” she added. “Let them lead the way, and let them participate. In short, true reconciliation cannot happen if we ignore those that are affected by the decisions.”

Realistically speaking, it isn’t surprising that the government places more importance on building entertainment establishments than respecting the wishes of a minority group. But when we see these stories emerge in the media, we should ask ourselves: when will Canada truly understand and take action against any and all types of injustice toward Indigenous peoples? When will we live in a country known for respecting not only the people inhabiting it, but their beliefs too? When will the value of words be strong enough to overcome any disparity between promises and actions?

Graphic by Zeze Le Lin

Categories
Arts

Work of passion gains momentum

The 20-year-old artist said she is saving up for a studio of her own. Photo courtesy of Saige Mukash.

A young Cree artist speaks about her budding business and aspirations for the future

While​ ​homemade​ ​jewelry​ ​and​ ​ink-based​ ​artworks​ might​ ​not​ ​be​ ​an​ ​unheard​ ​of​ ​​business​ ​idea, not​ ​many​ ​can​ ​say​ ​their​ ​orders​ ​are​ ​flown​ ​out​ ​of​ ​Quebec’s​ ​​northernmost​ ​Cree​ ​community.

Saige​ ​Mukash,​ ​a​ ​20-year-old​ ​Cree​ ​woman,​ ​calls​ ​her​ ​business​ ​Nalakwsis​—the middle name her​ ​Abenaki grandmother gave ​her​ ​in​ ​her​ ​native​ ​language. Nalakwsis​​​ ​products include ink​ ​drawings,​ ​digital​ ​artwork,​ ​beaded​ ​jewelry​ ​and embroidered​ ​works, all​ ​hand-made​ ​by​ ​Mukash​ ​herself. While​ ​she is​ ​a​ ​creative​ ​woman​ ​by​ ​nature and ​always​ ​enjoyed​ ​making​ ​pieces​ ​with​ ​her hands,​ ​Mukash​ ​only​ ​recently​ ​chose​ ​a​ ​more​ ​organized,​ ​business-oriented​ ​path.

“I​ ​chose​ ​‘Nalakwsis’​ ​as​ ​my​ ​official​ ​business​ ​title​ ​about​ ​a​ ​year​ ​ago, but​ ​I’ve​ ​been​ ​serious​ ​in​ ​my​ ​work​ ​for​ ​the​ ​past​ ​two​ ​years​ ​now,”​ ​Mukash​ ​explained. Though,​ ​what​ ​is​ ​now​ ​a​ ​profitable​ ​business​ ​first​ ​started​ ​out​ ​as​ ​a​ ​passionate​ ​hobby.

Mukash​ ​attended​ ​F.A.C.E. School ​in​ ​the​ ​heart​ ​of​ downtown ​Montreal​, ​where​ ​she​ ​was​ ​able​ ​to exercise​ ​her​ ​artistic​ ​abilities​ ​and​ ​express​ ​herself​ ​through​ ​various​ ​mediums ​in​ ​an​ ​organized​ classroom setting.​ ​However,​ ​it​ ​was​ ​returning​​ ​to​ ​her​ ​Cree​ ​community​ ​up​ ​north that​ ​had​ ​the​ ​biggest​ ​effect​ ​on​ ​her.​ ​“My​ ​art​ ​really​ ​blossomed​ ​when​ ​I​ ​came​ ​to​ ​Whapmagoostui​ ​to reconnect​ ​with​ ​my​ ​Cree​ ​culture,”​ ​she​ ​said.

Mukash titled this piece, For the missing and murdered.

Not​ ​long​ ​after,​ ​Mukash​ ​created​ ​a​ ​Facebook​ ​page where​ ​she​ ​could​ post photos and descriptions of​ ​her art​ ​pieces;​ ​a​ ​sort​ ​of​ ​headquarters​ ​for​ ​all​ ​​her​​ ​works. As​ ​people began to show​ ​interest​ in buying ​her​ ​pieces​,​ ​Mukash​ ​realized​​ ​she would have to take further steps to establish her business​.​ ​She​ ​created ​two​ ​online​ ​shops ​where​ ​anyone​ ​in Canada​ ​with​ ​access​ ​to​ ​a​ ​credit​ ​card​ ​could​ ​purchase​​ ​her​ ​artworks.

It​ ​was​ ​then​ ​that Mukash​ ​knew​ ​she​ ​was​ ​in​ ​business. While​ ​she​ ​still​ ​lives​ ​​with​ ​her​ ​parents​ ​and​ ​two​ ​siblings in their home in northern Quebec,​​​ ​Mukash​ ​found​ ​a​ ​way​ ​to create​ ​her​ ​own ​workspace ​in​ ​her​ ​spatially​ ​limited​ ​environment. She​ ​has​ ​a​ ​small​ ​studio​ ​space​ ​in​ ​her​ ​home​ ​where​ ​she​ ​crafts​ ​all​ ​her​ pieces, packages and ships them​.

In​ ​the​ ​past​ ​month​ ​alone,​ ​Mukash​ ​has​ ​made​ ​over​ ​$1,000​ ​in​ ​sales,​ ​and​ ​spends​ ​an​ ​average​ ​of​ ​$200​ ​on​ ​supplies per​ ​month.

However,​ ​living​ ​three hours​ ​away​ ​from​ ​Montreal by plane is​ becoming​ ​more​ ​and​ ​more​ ​of​ ​a​ ​problem. Due to​ ​her​ ​isolated​ ​location,​ ​Mukash​ ​must​ ​order​ ​all​ ​of​ ​her​ ​supplies​ ​online.​ ​“It’s​ ​getting​ ​very hard​ ​to​ ​be​ ​able​ ​to​ ​buy​ ​supplies​ ​online.​ ​Shipping​ ​is​ ​getting​ ​very​ ​expensive​ ​for​ ​my​ ​community, which​ ​is​ ​a​ ​fly-in​ ​only​ ​community,”​ ​she​ ​said.

Not​ ​only​ ​are​ ​all​ ​of​ ​Mukash’s​ ​supplies​ ​located​ ​hours​ ​away,​ ​so​ ​are​ ​the​ ​majority​ ​of​ ​her customers.​ ​Shipping​ ​fees​ ​are​ ​added​ ​onto​ ​every​ ​sale​​ ​she​ ​makes. Yet, while​ ​these​ ​obstacles​ ​are​ ​present​ ​in​ ​the​ ​young​ ​artist’s​ ​day-to-day​ ​plans,​ ​she​ ​is​ ​not​ ​letting​ ​them slow​ ​her​ ​down.

“I​ ​think​ ​my​ ​first​ ​long​-term​ ​goal​ ​for​ ​my​ ​business​ ​is​ ​owning​ ​a​ ​studio​ ​here​ ​in​ ​my​ ​home​town,” Mukash​ ​said.​ ​“It’s​ ​a​ ​struggle​ ​for​ ​anyone​ ​here​ ​to​ ​own​ ​their​ ​own​ ​business​ ​because everything​ ​is​ ​under​ ​the​ ​Band​ ​Office. You​ ​can’t​ ​just​ ​go​ ​and​ ​sign​ ​a​ ​lease​ ​for​ ​an​ ​apartment.”

“My​ ​own​ ​studio​ ​space​ ​is​ ​what​ ​I’m​ ​saving​ ​up​ ​for,” she said. “​That’s​ ​what​ ​I’m​ ​aiming​ ​for.”​

For more information about Saige​ ​Mukash, visit her Facebook page or website.

Photos courtesy of Saige Mukash

Categories
Arts

Telling Indigenous stories in cyberspace

Artists Jason E. Lewis and Skawennati are co-directors of Aboriginal Territories in Cyberspace (AbTeC). Photo by Alex Hutchins

Filling in the Blank Spaces exhibits a multimedia, interactive, cross-cultural dialogue

The Ohenton Karihwatehkwen are the words that come before all else. They call on everyone to give thanks to Mother Earth, Grandmother Moon and Father Sky. Grateful for the environment, all animals and all of creation, we acknowledge Creator, and we thank him for all he has done for us.  

Skawennati and Jason E. Lewis’ video piece titled Thanksgiving Address mimics the Ohenton Karihwatehkwen, giving thanks for contemporary technologies such as the computer and the internet. Located at the entrance of the Leonard and Bina Ellen Art Gallery, this piece also greets and thanks viewers for attending Owerà:ke Non Aié:nahne: Filling in the Blank Spaces.

According to the exhibition’s description, Filling in the Blank Spaces is “an exhibition-forum on the research and creative work of the Aboriginal territories in cyberspace.” It is an exhibition that demands viewer participation. The majority of the pieces presented require interaction.

Lewis and Skawennati’s exhibition, Filling in the Blank Spaces, explores Indigenous identity through technology and art. Photo by Alex Hutchins

Five different video games are set up in the middle of the gallery’s main space. They were created by the elders and youth of Aboriginal communities during Skins Workshops. In these workshops, video games are made to explore Indigenous stories, mythology and ways of life.

Lewis is a computation arts professor at Concordia as well as an artist and writer. Both he and Skawennati, a Concordia BFA design graduate, are co-directors of Aboriginal Territories in Cyberspace (AbTeC). AbTeC is a research network based at Concordia that strives to change the world by using digital media to tell stories of the past and imagine versions of the future. The initiative encourages Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities to participate in the production and viewing of digital media and to create a dialogue between cultures.

The co-directors of AbTeC explained that their goal is to “facilitate the creation of a new generation of media producers while attempting to answer questions about how our stories are told and how these can be remediated via new media.” AbTeC also manages the Initiative for Indigenous Futures (IIF), which often commissions works by Indigenous artists. Such works are projected onto the walls of the gallery and available as postcards.

The neighbouring room contains two virtual reality (VR) pieces, one by Scott Benesiinaabandan and another created during Skins Workshops. In these virtual realities, the viewer can explore a variety of futures and imaginary worlds.

Models of Skawennati’s avatar and Hunter, the main character of her series TimeTraveller™, on display at the gallery. Photo by Alex Hutchins

Another space documents the work done behind the scenes at AbTeC and IIF. Here, select pieces from both Lewis and Skawennati’s individual and collective bodies of work are on display. These documentations are from past projects and conferences, including work from when the couple met in Banff in the 90s. The room also includes material from The Future Imaginary symposium, an ongoing conference series that brings people together to imagine different futures.

Sketches and design plans for the VR projects are displayed beside two figurines: Skawennati’s avatar from the Second Life online virtual world, and Hunter, the main character in TimeTraveller™, a series of nine 10-minute videos which play in an adjacent room. Each episode retells historical events from the Indigenous perspective, from the life of Saint Kateri Tekakwitha to the 1969 Occupation of Alcatraz and the 1990 Oka Crisis.

The video series is followed by the new media production She Falls For Ages. In September, The Concordian visited The Celestial Tree, one of Skawennati’s installations based off of this machinima. The “machinima” approach is entirely specific to the artist’s body of work. Combining computer animation—similar to Sims graphics—and cinema, She Falls For Ages tells a futuristic, feminist interpretation of the Haudenosaunee creation story.

According to an article written by Lewis and Skawennati in Cultural Survival Quarterly Magazine, “since its beginning, cyberspace has been imagined as a free and open space, much like the New World was imagined by the Europeans.”

In showcasing art that uses Euro-American technology, AbTeC and IIF hope to help Indigenous peoples reclaim their stolen identity. By expressing themselves in the creation of alternative realities, AbTeC encourages artists to create visuals of historical events, stories of the past and hopes for the future. Filling in the Blank Spaces exposes a dialogue which resonates from nation to nation, (re)learning and (re)discovering history in the process.

Owerà:ke Non Aié:nahne: Filling in the Blank Spaces will be open Tuesday through Saturday from 12 p.m. to 6 p.m. until Dec. 2 at the Leonard and Bina Ellen Art Gallery in Concordia’s LB building.

Photos by Alex Hutchins

Categories
News

Concordia First Nations advocacy group goes digital

Graphic by Alexa Hawksworth

Indigenous Directions Leadership Group to help students develop business initiatives

As one of the newest members of Concordia’s Indigenous Directions Leadership Group (IDLG), Ronald Abraira hopes to bring his knowledge of business management and entrepreneurship to help the group develop initiatives that benefit Indigenous students at the John Molson School of Business (JMSB).

“I’d like to help the group reach out to First Nations institutions and create a bridging program for [Indigenous] CEGEP students and adult education learners,” said Abraira, a JMSB lecturer. “We’re hoping to create a program that’s like Dragon’s Den […] We’re calling it INSTEP: Indigenous Student Experience.”

This program will give Indigenous students the chance to create and pitch original business ideas in a style similar to the successful CBC television series. Abraira said INSTEP will give students enrolled in CEGEP or adult education programs the opportunity to gain experience in entrepreneurship and help ease their transition into university. He added that the IDLG hopes to launch the program at some point in the next year, but there is currently no set date.

Abraira is one of four new members to join the IDLG this year. The other new members include Vicky Boldo, an interim elder at Concordia’s Aboriginal Student Resource Centre (ASRC), ASRC coordinator Orenda Boucher-Curotte and Karl Hele, an associate professor of First Peoples studies at Concordia. Reporting to the provost and vice-president, all IDLG members contribute to the group’s goal of helping Concordia respond to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) Principles for Reconciliation and Calls to Action. A total of 94 calls to action were released by the TRC in 2015, following a seven-year federally funded investigation of the Canadian residential school system. The calls to action include ensuring Indigenous people have equitable access to jobs, training and education. Another call to action recommended requiring certain academic programs, including history, media studies and journalism, to feature curriculums focused on Indigenous history and issues.

The IDLG aims to improve the university’s responsiveness to the TRC principles by preparing a list of current Concordia First Nations initiatives, designing recommendations to increase Indigenous participation in the academic community, and offering input on Concordia’s approach to Indigenous recruitment and admissions strategies.

In addition to welcoming new members, the IDLG launched an online hub that aims to provide First Nations Concordia students with access to resources and information.

The hub, which was launched in October, features a diverse range of information relevant to First Nations students and faculty, including upcoming IDLG events as well as a list of courses and faculty members in the First People Studies program. There is also a page highlighting Indigenous research and community projects at Concordia.

Some of the featured projects include Acting Out!, a program that offers theatre workshops to Indigenous youth; Nipivut, a bi-weekly Inuktitut radio show; and Journey Women, an art project exploring the theme of healing from the perspective of First Nations women.

According to Abraira, there is no formal application or election process to join the IDLG. The group welcomes Indigenous community members from a wide range of backgrounds.

“This is a group that’s here for all Indigenous students, Indigenous faculty and those interested in outreach to the Indigenous community,” Abraira said.

Graphic by Alexa Hawksworth

Categories
News

March of solidarity at Nuit des Sans-Abri

Montrealers marched in support for the city’s homeless during the annual La Nuit des Sans-Abri. Photo by Alex Hutchins

Annual event urges Montreal politicians to raise awareness about homelessness in the city

It was chilly on Oct. 20, but nothing like the cold Montreal’s homeless population faces every winter. This year, hundreds of Montrealers chanted and marched in solidarity with those who inhabit our city streets in the 28th edition of La Nuit des Sans-Abri.

With the approach of Montreal’s municipal elections, Pierre Gaudreau, a spokesperson for La Nuit des Sans-Abri and director of Réseau d’aide aux personnes seules et itinérantes de Montréal (RAPSIM), said the organization will be pressuring politicians in the coming days to address issues of homelessness in their platforms and policies.

According to Gaudreau, the group’s advocacy doesn’t stop there. “We are asking the federal government to invest money to support all of the actions that are needed to help homeless people and to prevent homelessness,” he said.

The purpose of La Nuit des Sans-Abri is to raise public awareness about homelessness in Montreal, Gaudreau said.
The event began in Phillips Square at 6 p.m. The crowd walked towards Cabot Square following a brief opening speech from Bernard St-Jacques, the host of the event and director of Clinique Droits Devant, a non-profit organization that works with homeless people.

Gaudreau said one thing Montrealers can do to help the cause is support initiatives, like La Nuit des Sans-Abri, that seek to inform politicians running in the upcoming election about issues related to homelessness.
During the march, Montreal Mayor Denis Coderre said, when he first ran for mayor, the welfare of homeless people was not a prominent topic. “I decided that [the homeless situation in Montreal] was the priority because it’s a matter of making sure that everybody is a first-class citizen,” he said.

Coderre said he and his team are focusing on creating an action plan that protects the lives of homeless people in Montreal. “We’ve also been focusing to get all the power in housing. So now, with the new status of metropolis, we have that capacity to create all the housing and respect the diversity,” he said. “There is a lot to be done still, but we set up a good four years to improve the situation.”

According to Gaudreau, the biggest misconception the public has about the homeless is that they chose to be in that situation. “That is just not the case,” he said, adding that Indigenous homeless individuals are becoming more prevalent due to poor domestic situations. “We are seeing more Native people [on the streets] who lived violent situations coming from a poor neighborhood.” According to Gaudreau, Indigenous people make up 10 per cent of Montreal’s homeless population. “So it’s a big number because they do not represent that much of the population in Montreal, so they are overrepresented on the streets,” he said.

Some of the city’s current dilemmas around homelessness include a lack of social housing, social profiling of homeless people and the need for help in day centres, Gaudreau told The Concordian. “One of the major achievements that we hope to have in the next four years is to do more housing for the people who do not have any home,” Gaudreau said. “The houses will be situated everywhere in Montreal. We need some downtown and some also in Montreal North.”

Photo by Alex Hutchins

Categories
News

Montrealers honour Indigenous women

Demonstrator holds a sign that calls for “Justice Now.” Photos by Mackenzie Lad

Hundreds gathered for 12th annual vigil to remember the missing and murdered

Dreary weather wasn’t enough to stop hundreds of people from gathering in downtown Montreal on Wednesday, Oct. 4 to honour Canada’s missing and murdered Indigenous women.

The two-hour memorial event, held at Place Émilie-Gamelin, was coordinated by the Quebec Native Women’s Shelter and Missing Justice, a grassroots solidarity organization focused on Indigenous women’s issues. Throughout the evening, there were speeches in both English and French from various activists and family members of victims.

According to a 2014 RCMP report, there were 1,181 cases of homicide or long-term disappearances involving Indigenous women between 1980 and 2012. In 2015, Statistics Canada released data suggesting that, while Indigenous people make up just five per cent of Canada’s population, they are the victims of nearly one quarter of all of the country’s homicides.

Chelsea Obodoechina, a representative of Missing Justice, spoke about these horrifying statistics at the vigil, noting that the issue extends beyond women.

“This phenomenon […] is also affecting Indigenous boys and young men,” Obodoechina said. “And we keep them in our hearts tonight.”

According to the Native Women’s Association of Canada (NWAC), Montreal’s annual vigil was one of many held across the country on Oct. 4. The NWAC claims that, when the vigils first started being held in 2006, there were only 11 held nationally. Since 2014, over 200 vigils remembering missing and murdered Indigenous women have been held across Canada every year.

Vigil attendees raise their hands to show they knew a woman by the same name as one of the women who had been murdered or gone missing. Photo by Mackenzie Lad

Ellen Gabriel, a Mohawk activist, also spoke at the vigil and reflected on the increased participation, noting that there were only 20 attendees at the first event in Montreal 11 years ago.

Despite the increased attention to the issue and the launch of a 28-month national inquiry in 2016, Gabriel reminded the audience that there is a long road ahead before Indigenous women—and Indigenous communities as a whole—receive justice.

“There are more [Indigenous] children in the child welfare system today than were in residential schools,” Gabriel said. “Justin Trudeau recently gave a speech to the United Nations talking about Indigenous people […] but he’s presented no solutions on his part.”

Throughout the evening, attendees lit candles and some even brandished signs with phrases including “Justice For Our Women and Girls” and “Sisters in Spirit.” One speaker at the event asked those gathered to raise their hand if they knew a woman with the same name as some of the women who had been murdered or gone missing in Quebec since 1980. By the end of her list of about a dozen names, the overwhelming majority of the crowd had their hands up.

Hundreds gathered to remember missing and murdered Indigenous women on Oct. 4. Photo by Mackenzie Lad

Cheryl McDonald, a Mohawk woman whose sister, Carleen, went missing over Labour Day weekend in 1988 in Akwesasne, also spoke at the vigil. She talked about how Carleen’s body had been found several weeks later by a hunter. Although McDonald was visibly emotional while recounting the story of her sister, her speech remained hopeful.

“We, as women, have to stop hurting each other before we can expect men to,” McDonald said. “I choose to live and leave a trail of love behind me.”

While it may have been a night of mourning, the speakers reminded the audience that it was also a night of remembrance, resilience and hope.

“We will remember these women,” Gabriel said in her closing remarks, “and we will continue to fight.”

Categories
Opinions

Addressing reconciliation with empathy

Graphic by Alexa Hawksworth.

Recognizing and celebrating our nation’s progress, but understanding there’s still more to do

It has been 10 years since the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples was adopted on Sept. 13, 2007. As such, Montreal’s city council chose Sept. 13 to mark the addition of an Iroquois symbol to its city flag.

The city also committed to renaming Amherst Street—named after British general Jeffrey Amherst, who advocated for the use of biological warfare against Indigenous peoples in 1763. These were important and complex decisions, however, they are only part of a larger, ongoing conversation about Indigenous rights and reconciliation.

The debate surrounding the honouring of controversial historical figures in the public and governmental spheres has been an ongoing conversation in Canada for some time. However, it seems to have peaked in the wake of the Confederate monument discourse happening in the United States. While I certainly agree with the renaming of Amherst Street, the issue of consistency comes into question.

For instance, the Langevin block, which houses the prime minister’s office, was named after Hector-Louis Langevin, a father of Confederation and proponent of residential schools. Back in June, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau announced the building would be renamed because “keeping that name on the prime minister’s office is inconsistent with the values of our government.”

However, when confronted by the Elementary Teachers’ Federation of Ontario’s initiative to remove the name of John A. MacDonald—Canada’s first prime minister and a supporter of residential schools—from the province’s schools in August, Trudeau sang a different tune. According to CBC News, he said he believes this discourse is important, but “reconciliation is not just about the relationship between government and Indigenous people.” He said there are no plans for the federal government to remove MacDonald’s name from schools, and therein lies a sort of contradiction.

Some of the public’s reaction has been to label Trudeau’s Langevin block announcement and the Montreal city council decision as acts of virtue signalling. I don’t necessarily agree with that, yet when Mayor Denis Coderre proudly claimed: “If we want reconciliation, I don’t think we should celebrate someone who wanted to exterminate Indigenous peoples,” it was hard not to see his point. You can’t have it both ways.

It is important to recognize the work that led to Confederation. However, it is equally important to recognize that our nation was built at the expense of Indigenous people’s territory, culture and lives. Assembly of First Nations national chief Perry Bellegarde told the CBC that the actions of Trudeau and Ontario’s teachers signal an awakening in the minds of Canadians. “What’s hopeful for me is that Canadians are starting to get it,” Bellegarde told the CBC.

To be clear, I am not a member of the Indigenous community, nor do I mean to speak on their behalf. I believe in inclusion, empathy and reconciliation. I think Bellegarde’s words are quite poignant. This is indeed part of a slow awakening. Canada has come a long way. Two years ago, our leadership was hard pressed to even acknowledge a divide between Canada and Indigenous peoples. Now, as a nation, we are at least recognizing that our historical legacy is not perfect, and we are having a discourse to reconcile that past with the present.

I think the way forward is to recognize and celebrate the progress we have made, but not to believe—even for a second—that the past is in the past. The actions of our past have tangible, contemporary consequences. Progress is the sum total of acts of empathy, large and small. We cannot poison acts of goodwill just because they don’t address all violations at once. A single act cannot be comprehensive. But we can certainly be critical and hold our leaders accountable.

It is important to realize that total reconciliation of the past may never be fully realized, but we can work towards a more empathetic and active engagement with our nation’s past. The act of striving for a better relationship with your neighbour is certainly a noble pursuit.

Graphic by Alexa Hawksworth

Categories
Arts

Changing the way we see Indigenous women

The work of Dayna Danger and Émilie Monnet is featured in a new exhibition highlighting Indigenous strength and identity. Photos by Kirubel Mehari.

Concordia grad and fellow artist combine forces to empower each other and viewers

Artist Émilie Monnet and recent Concordia MFA graduate Dayna Danger were asked to exhibit their work as part of the OBORO art centre’s year-long dedication to Indigenous artists and thinkers in response to the Canada 150 celebrations.

In collaboration with five women from the Native Women’s Shelter of Montreal, the artists took the opportunity to put together a month-long exhibition centred around the empowerment of Indigenous women.

OBORO’s website states Monnet and Danger’s project, Sanctuary, “explores how one can create a feeling of sanctuary in one’s self.” It encourages Indigenous women to understand that their own bodies and ancestry can provide the refuge that their colonized land cannot. The small exhibition at OBORO is just one element of the centre’s ongoing project. This single-room exhibition consists of both photographic and audio pieces, and explores stars and their significance in all Indigenous cultures.

The photography aspect of the exhibition features portraits of the five Indigenous women from the shelter—Brenda Lee Marcoux, Gail Golder, Jenna Guanish, Violet Rose Quinney and Crystal Star Einish—embodying empowered alter-egos, or “star selves.” Their star selves were discovered through workshops with the artists and other collaborators, and included links to their ancestors. For example, in her portrait, Quinney chose to dress as her grandfather.

However, Monnet and Danger noted that the empowered personas the women chose were not far off from who they really are. “It was something that we didn’t really expect,” Danger said. “It was really beautiful.”

The portraits are laminated onto copper “shields,” because some Indigenous cultures believe the metal has healing properties. These shields hang from the ceiling in an inwards-facing circle, creating a powerful space that one has to physically enter in order to view the work.

A traditional drum is mounted to a wall and lit from behind, giving the appearance of the moon. Photos by Kirubel Mehari.

On the wall to the right of the entrance hangs a hand drum, which is lit from behind. It casts a beam of light across the room onto the portraits, specifically onto the one of a woman holding a similar drum. “The drum lit up could be a reference to the moon,” Danger said.

The exhibition’s audio component consists of two parts: an ambient noise which fills the intimate, dark gallery space, and a voice recording played on headphones made available next to the hanging shields.

The ambient noise is made up of an Indigenous song sung by the artists as well as bits of conversation with the collaborators. The recording played through the headphones, is a dialogue from the workshops leading up to the exhibition, as well as intimate monologues that each woman wrote for their created alter-ego.

The atmosphere of the gallery space used for the exhibition aids in conveying the ideas of stars and restfulness. Upon entering the room, viewers feel a sense of sanctuary, as they are easily immersed in the exhibition through the blanket of darkness and placement of the pieces. The sound aspect of the installation helps contribute to the feeling of calm and comfort viewers experience. Additionally, the darkness of the room gives the few lit objects more visibility and significance, just as stars light up a pitch-black night sky.

According to Danger, the aim of this project was to guide Indigenous women in “seeing themselves in a positive and empowering way.” She added that she also hopes the public, in seeing the exhibition, would echo that vision.

“Even somebody who isn’t Indigenous is going to come in there and find some resonance with what is being said,” she said.

Wishes / Souhaits is on display until Oct. 21 at the OBORO gallery space at 4001 Berri St. The gallery is open Tuesday to Saturday from 12 p.m. to 5 p.m. For more information on OBORO’s year of Indigenous programming and upcoming exhibitions, check out their website.

A previous version of this article misquoted Dayna Danger with regards to the focus and aim of most Indigenous art. The Concordian apologizes for the error.

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