THERINGS THE EN'OWKIN JOURNAL OF FIRST NORTH AMERICAN PEOPLES Volume 1 Issue 1 Fall 1990 PREMIERE ISSUE EN'OWKIN INTERNATIONAL SCHO()L O~-, WRITING The En'owkin International School of Writing assists First Nations students to find their voices as writers. Through this process, we promote understanding of the complexity of First Nations peoples. Students work directly with a team of renowned First Nations writers. The program explores the unique cultural environment of First Nations peoples as reflected in their literature. The courses develop skills in the use of metaphor such as the coyote, the horse, and the owl. Student writers develop their skills in a stimulating atmosphere of encouragement and discovery. Admission Criteria: North American First Nations Ancestry. Eligible for university entrance, or have completed one or more years of an undergraduate program. A submission of 10-15 pages of original written work at the time of application. Tuition: Tuition is $2000.00 each year. Books and supplies are estimated at $400.00. Classes begin the first week of September. For full calendar and registration information contact: Admissions, En'owkin Centre, 257 Brunswick Street Penticton, B.C. V2A 5P9 Canada Telephone (604) 493-7181 Fax (604) 493-2882 GATHERINGS The En 'owkin Journal of First North American Peoples SURVIVAL ISSUE ii' .; ·. t. . . . . ·, · .• ··.1 ,r I~ I ',.._ .. ,,._.,......-...,........_....,__,..._$ Theytus Books, Penticton, British Columbia GATIIERINGS: The En'owkin Journal of First North American Peoples Volume 1 Issue 1 August 1990 Published annually by Theytus Books Ltd. for the En'owkin Centre International School of Writing Managing Editor: David Gregoire Associate Editors: Maria Baptiste Forrest Funmaker Conrad George Brian Scrivener Arnie Louie Leona Lysons Jeff Smith Ann Wallace Page Composition: Jeff Smith, Manager Theytus Books Ltd. Cover Design: David Gregoire/Jeff Smith Cover Art; Jeannette Armstrong/Lee Maracle/Forrest Funmaker /Jeff Smith Forrest Funmaker En'owkin Centre Subscriptions are $13.00 for individuals and $14.00 for institutions. A price list will be mailed on request. Please inquire about our advertising rates and contributors' guidelines. Please send submissions , letters, and subscriptions to 'Gatherings, c/ o En'owkin Centre '157 Brunswick Street, Penticton, B.C V2A 5P9 Canada. All submissions must be accompanied by self-addressed stamped envelope (SASE). Manuscripts without SASEs may not be returned. We will not consider previously published manuscripts or visual art. 'Bicenti.' by Anna Lee Walters has previously appeared in Tarasque II, published by Albuquerque United Artists 1985, Albuquerque, NM. Reprinted by permission. Copyright remains with the artist and/or author. No portion of this journal may be rep!ls were full of big Eastern Brook trout. They waded out toa big aam where they coula cast upstream. As they stood on tlie beaver dam minnows darted about !rying to steal their bait as they: reeled in the line to recast. "You know son, I haven't been to school much but I'll try to answer your question as best I can." ''That's O.K. dad you don't have to. I forgot the question anyway. . d d ''The way I think itis, is the whiteman never did un erstan our ways our {>eople. You see they came here what, four hundred years ag~. The ideas or the way they wanted to live is completely different than Indian people. They want to have and to own as much as they can more than even their brother has. Indians us~ally will share anything they have. Even though there are many: different tribes from the east to the west, the way we looked at or thought about the world was pretty much the same. You know just different styles of ceremonies, but for the most part we all asked the same things. Good health, food, happiness, a good road. Now these whitemen started out in the east and came west. They were farmers miners, you know whatever else there was. They started out ~rand wanted a good life because in Europe or wherever they came from, they were poo.r lowly: servants with ;no hope of ever being rich or in a royal family or whatever _they_ pnze as being good. Talts were still predominant on their body and made them so delicate looking Then the mother whistled and the fawns dropped to the ground ~nd blended with the brush so as to seem to disappear. "You see that learning, that's as old as the sal!l'on and ~af.s a ~aX_ of surviving. There will always be deer so hke you said, old isn t so bad." PRESS GANG PUBLISHERS IS PROUD TO PRESENT: SOJOURNER'S TRUTH _by Lee Maracle Urban settings, inter-racial issues and traditional Native culture are the focus of this new collection of stories. Available Nov 1990 $10.95 NOT VANISHING by Chrystos Passionate, vital writing that addresses self-esteem and survival, the loving of women, and pride in her Native heritage. $9.50 PRESS GANG PUBLISHERS 603 Powell Street, Vancouver, B.C. V6A 1H2 Canada (604) 253-2537 121 Granny by Gerald Etienne granny cares to care is to live and suffer granny has lived long granny is hurt from all the suffering Yet granny still cares She cares for her children granny cares for her grandchildren granny helps in every way she can she works granny cans fruits and vegetables granny cleans her home she cooks granny bakes bread and pies she sews granny makes gloves and moccasins she teaches granny tells us stories and lessons she loves granny tells us and hugs me granny cares 122 Plenty of Lore, Plenty of Land byDavey C. Maurice If a person decided to conduct a study about aboriginal people in Canada, there would be no shortage of material available for research purposes. In trying to decipher what is meant by aborigine, from this literature, one would be overwhelmed with images of savagery, deceitfulness and disgrace. Contemporary society recognizes that Canadian aboriginal issues must be reassessed. Since the 'white paper policy' was introduced in the 1960s, aboriginal peoples of various parts of Canada, hav;e taken a firm stand against the Canadian federal government in search of their separate identities. A large part of their struggles have been based on more socio-economic problems. However, more recently the trend has shifted to the political circles. Aboriginals are seeking compensation and losses from land-claim titles, natural resource royalties from aboriginal lands, and a system of self-government within Canada's political structure. All of these mentioned are pertinent to the aborigine's future existance. This process undertaken by the Canadian aboriginals has slowly developed from isolated incidents across Canada into a full-blown national struggle. This ongoing struggle is of great importance to the aboriginal people of Canada, for without it, they all would be facing virtual extinction. What one must do in order to assess the current aborigine situation in Canada, is research the literature made available by Indian and Metis leaders alike. Of course, several inquiries and commission reports have been structured, however, most of this information is strictly a form of rhetoric provided by federal political groups, who in reality have no idea what should be assessed and what is assessed. From reading many books, articles, and other classroom materials, the image projected about aboriginals are in a sad state. Some of this data actually portrays the truth, while many of the other written articles are full of blasphemus remarks concerning Canada's history. Canadian history is a shameful story coupled with rhetoric designed to mislead our younger generations into believing that aboriginal people are inferior beings. In truth, if one was to exclude any aborigial input into Canada's evolution leading up to confederation, the historical material available would probably be just as absurd. 123 Davey C. Maurice Davey C. Maurice The Canadian aboriginals, regardless if they were status or non-status, did not shape Canada into the country it is today. Canada is seen as a bountiful democratic coutry, capable of providing it's natural resources to nations around the world for exploitation. Canadians like to believe that they take care of their own citizens. Moreover, they believe in opening their borders to almost every available foreign immigration department worldwide. If you are a citizen in any other part of the world, say Japan or Lebanon, and you are fairly wealthy, Canada welcomes you with open arms. What does this say about Canada's history? Basically, that Canadians are greedy, adventurous people, who thrive on making the almighty dollar, and that their history up until now, reveals that Canadian governments in the past have ignored providing more substantial information and government services to their aboriginal societies. Meanwhile, what happens to the real issues on Canadian soil? For one, Canada is now a country filled with immigrants who also need to make their presence felt. Jobs, social relief agencies, parliaments, and Canada's entire federal structure seems to be overly involved in accomodating the immigrants' needs. All the while aboriginal issues are left simmering on the back-burner. When speaking of Canadian aboriginal people, it is important that one separates each group into it's own traditional and cultural circle. In Canada there are three main groups included under the title, aboriginal. They are status and non-status Indians and the Metis, who are usually descendants of either French or English European ancestry combined with one or another Indian bloodlines. All of the aformentioned aboriginal sub-groups in Canada still maintain their own historical conflicts with the Canadian political structure. To begin with, status Indians are seeking more autonomy and the right to self-government. In 1985 and 1987, at the First Ministers conferences held in Canada, both conferences ended on a negative note. Reasons for this aboriginal setback resulted after Canada's premiers could not define 'self-government'. After so many decades of political negotiations, two of the four Indian bands who were successful in their negotiations were from Alberta. The Alexander Indian Reserve and the Northern Sawridge bands are precedent-setting cases for other Canadian aborigines seeking autonomy. Basically, the right to self-government allows the aboriginals(status Indians) to control their own affairs. This includes control over their own police force, health services, and 124 school boards, moreover they oversee substantial earnings deri':ed from natural resources such as oil and gas and forestry. If the Indian bands who have been successful in their negotiations, live up to expectations, more Canadian aboriginal groups will follow their examples. Another aboriginal sub-group which has not ~n t~ successful in their political struggle has been the Metis. Their primary difficulties arise from their exclusion in t~e treaty syste~ which was established in the 1800s for status Indians. The Metis were considered as all other Canadians were, and did not earn extra benefits from the Canadian government. There does exist, howe".'e~, viable reasons why the Metis should be acknowledged as abonginal. Some historical Metis leaders, such as Riel and Dumont, did include themselves in Canada's establishment. For their efforts to gain Metisautonomy and the right to self-government, both lead~rs were somewhat condemned. Riel was hung for treason, while Dumont quietly faded into Canada's historical development. Indian affairs of Canada's governmental system does not take interest in the Metis struggle. The Metis have established some major organizations to seek out their overall interests. Like the status Indian, the Metis struggle has been a long drawn out affair. Up until recently has the voice of the Metis been heard. Ra~dy Hardy, who is Chief Of Federation of Metis settlements, negotiated and won a major victory for Alberta's Metis in a twenty-on~ year old ~aw-~uit against the Alberta provincial government. This was of histo~cal importance since it is not only the first, as Alberta ~as the first province in Canada to provide any land to the Metis. Such an historical gain could not but help other Metis settleme~ts in achieving some form of self-identity. More and more Metis peop~e are becoming involved in their national quest for autonomy. This fact provides the Canadian government with several reasons why they should take heed to all aboriginal concerns. Procrastinating any longer will not help address the many major issues at hand. Canada's gove~ent is not only f~ced with pressure from status Indian and Metis groups, more outsid~ ~uropean folk are condemning Canada's stance towar~ abonginals. Environmentalist groups across Canada have now listened to the horrors expressed so long ago by aboriginal people about our land abuses. Riel was praised for his efforts and dedication. to help t~e Metis. Indian guides and hunters are praised for their efforts m leading the first Europeans across Canada. Pow-wows, sweat125 Davey C. Maurice lodges, and other aboriginal ceremonies are of particular interest to anthropologists, sociologists, and ordinary people alike. It seems that the Indian and Metis traditions have finally created enough interest to gain popular support. Mistakes have been made in the past. They will not erase themselves. Aboriginal peoples of Canada have taken a stand and are trying desperately to achieve autonomy of some sort. If history keeps repeating itself, Canada's government will be hesitant to deal with matters, however, this has not been the case. Many Indian bands and Metis settlements have been successful in their negotiations. This does not mean that all is well and should be forgotten, it only serves to say that aboriginal grievances are being dealt with and more positives are emerging for aboriginal sake. End Rain Thoughts by Cecilia Luke Rain Unrelenting, descending, reflecting Imposing on memories Images wafting in serenity Penetrating, Impressing, Dissolving An intimate mist of gauze Transparent petals stored in silence Immersing, Cleansing, Reviving A veil is lifted A shimmering image in seclusion Chris & Gary Hunters Stalking though the whispery grey dawn Hugged in layers of clothing Soft steps in moist moors Frosted breath kissing morning mist Dew dampened nostrils Muggy voices in a muffle 126 127 Changing Song by Leona Lysons CHANGING SONG Her hands were cold, and the plastic bags had grown heavy, cutting into her fingers and cramping them. She coufd afford only the two bags of groceries and even tfiat felt heavy. She knew tfiere were four city blocks left before she could enter her house and set the burden down. She decided to walk quickly to end the trial as soon as J)OSSible. She veered onto the left of the sidewalk to avoid a child whizzing by on his bicycle. Her ba9. snagged on a fence and the contents tumbled onto the ground. 'Shoof', her mind screamed. She glared at the boy's receding back. He hadn't even seen what he'd done. She started tossing the spilled contents into the other shoppin$. bag. Margarine, bologna, and peanut butter for school lunches fit uneasily, crowded into the other package. When she picked up the oranges, the twist tie slipped off, and tne oranges rolfed all around her. She grit her teeth and grabbed the nearest fruit, reached back, and threw it as hard she could. The shot was terrific and the lamp post that was her target now had a smear of orange juice dripping aown its' side. "There," she felt much better. She then chuckled at her silly act and thought guiltily of the wasted orange. It was important to keep a sense oI humour. As if rewarding her for a good thought, a chickadee landed on the fence. It watched her to see if she migbt offer it a morsel of food. She looked at it, and smiled. She wondered if they had met in her backyard where she fed birds wild bird seed and beef suet. Maybe it was one of the chickadees who had become brave enough to land on her hand and accept the suet from her open palm. She thought of tne legend about why the cruckadee sings one song in the summer, "Kee-chenna, Kee-chenna," and changes it to "Chlck-a-dee-dee-dee," for the winter months. Compared-to Jays and Magpies, it was so small and yet, it too survives the coldest winters.Maybe its' survival had something to do with its ability to change songs with the seasons, she thougnt. Somehow the bird and the legend reminded her of herself, and the changes she was going through. The season of marriage had ended, and now the season of starting over as a single parent had begun. Time to change her song, and to sing as bravely as the little bira. To keep singing though times were hard. As she gathered the last of the oranges, a man came out of his house and offered her a plastic ba& ancfa ride home. She smiled and thanked him for the ba& but aeclined his offer of the ride. She would make out fine, thanks. 128 129 Warrior's Winter by Duane E. Marchand Proud Warrior The winter's fierce wind Has taken its' toll On your once handsome features The numbing cold Has scarred your face with deep lines And gnarled your hands So drawing back your bow Is no longer possible Your sunken cheeks and hollowed eyes Reflect the hardships of many winters Many long days and sleepless nights Struggling, worrying About your very survival And the survival of your children During those days when the winter's cold Had stolen the lives of many young children Your children had overcome those times Although the bitter winter stallion Has finally carried you away Your blood still courses Through our veins Dear Father, proud warrior Father We are who we are Because of who you Will Always be 130 Diptera by Duane E. Marchand and Columpa Bobb I'm shakin' off the cold again Shivers and shudders kni~ts in the gutters Damn cold s gone riglit to my bones Moans and ~ and chillm' bones Eyes ain't even open yet Burnt out eyes, bitchin sunrise And the light's still ~ushin' through Night blind and still outta yer mina This bench ain't so comfortable no more Too hard and cold for these bones old Kin feel the boards pushin' through cavities where teeth once stood No more teeth just a bootleg sheath Arm's ~one dead other side of the bench Nerves asunder body s ablunder Heavy dew this morning, shirt's soaked feet's froze Every poor fool's got his soul sold cause nobody's bold when it comes to the cold I don't know haven't felt them in daze Pigeon shit in my ear Lookee here, there's no shit pit in a pigeon's ear . Well... got it easy today Easy eatin's from sleazy beatin's Emma's still snoozin' in her puke It seeps and cree_ps even as she sleeps Kfu smell it, it's bad, 1ike everyone I know Like human sewer, humanities manure Hafta move, hafta rise Demise, despise, don't look at me with them beady eyes Need more sun to melt the black ice Stinking, rotting, heat sweltering vice, I accept you with open arms isn't that nice My mind's still freezin' but I ain't dead yet Hesitation, procrastination I'm looking forward to your destination Tied with cement shackles I'm forced to move slow Stop fightin' and frightin' your soul I'll enli~ten I'm a aominant rock in a majestic sea Hush, hush, you miserable lush! I'm a dominant rock in a majestic sea! Enough of this talk, let yourself cry, lay yourself down Let yourself die In your ocean of blood I kin stand, I kin laugh I kin live 131 Duane E. Marchand Hey... Mr. Music Man Concrete City by Tracey Bonneau In the chill of the night The lonely sound of a saxophone Echoes through the alleys and streets Passersby offer coins in sympathy Not in apfreciation of talent Or skillfu mastery of the instrument This is not the big time The only limeligfit to bask in Is the cold fluorescents Of the Government Liquor Store On East Hastings Street I see a smile in your eyes When a request was asked of you And you gfadly obliged by playing the blues With closed eyes You poured every ounce of energy: into your music Your music was alive, your music had soul And for that fleeting moment You weren't that cold and lonely black man In ragged clothes and dusty hat I saw you with shiny shoes Fancy clothes and a brand new hat And those cold fluorescents Grew bright and warm, And beads of sweat formed on your brow As you took your place on centre stage I heard the crowd go wild in appreciation For someone that everyone wanted to be I saw you too for who you are really are The Music Man As the last notes faded Into the thick wintry air And your last patron faded into the crowd I watched as you counted the change "Hey, Mr. Music Man," I said, "I have no money to offer you, but, Please play that song for me, okay." And there it was again The warm smiling eyes Sparkling in the cold fluorescent lights Of the Goverment Liquor Store On East Hastings And in the chilfof the night The lonely sound of a saxophone Echoes through the alleys and streets The sounds oI the Music Man. wet smog rises into skyline the working day starts trails of pushy umbrella people surrounded by rush traffic a glitzy high heel steps on the soiled trenchcoat (of a nearby street beggar) his harmonica tune floats in the air business suited men flock into tall stonefaced monster buildings plastic cheese and instant coffee giants dollar signs embedded into their pupils the lingering harmonica note hangs in the damp air a single echo of sanity a solitary reminder of who the real victims of the concrete city are 133 132 Tracey Bonneau Tracey Bonneau Stranded On An Island Doorway on the islands edge a figure shadows the darkness she smells hi:rri hunger driven she tastes and brown skin melts into clear beads that roll off skin become wheels of lust between two bodies screaming into a place rarely felt he crumbles then like sand unto the island she tries to pick up pieces of him but the grains sift through her fingers and her tears wash whats left away clouded eyes squint toward day lightness higher higher the mind races playing its games smaller smaller the tunnel becomes until light becomes darkness and the walls squeeze a tiny pool of light seeps through a crack in the rigid door set me free let that light shine on my eyes so they can be clear of clouds 134 135 Garry Gottfriedson \!., !i1, Crystal Globe Bureaucrats by Garry Gottfriedson Bureaucrats sit neatly hunched behind plush marble desk tops clustered with paper and pictures and day old carnations with knuckle white fingers tightly clasped around paperrnates skidding and scraping across someone's future AND WHEN SOMEONE goes to see them quiet and concerned about their future they stare like a crazy cartoon cat would with a shiny civilized smile and licking their lips and wagging their hands feeling important just before striking AND WHEN THEY STRIKE they stand fully exposed in their outdated english garb smelling like they just arrived from france japan or india; they breathe wildly if questioned, as if they are ready to choke. DON'T STAND TOO CLOSE because their mouthwash lingers like raw fish and wine Those bureaucrats are a weird bunch huffing and puffing and chasing away anyone who dares to visit them. We live in a crystal globe glittering, revo1ving, adaP-ting, even though it is not meant to lack trulh someone in the beginning instructed not to forget in our lifetime but somewhere sometime parts of it were forgotten then passed on to those willing to listen . . fractions remained unmoved 6y the motion of time; ak unbounding power which tested those willing to spe in this universe which never lies The fra~ented parts passing like an eclipse where there is no turning back where there is no reversing and in that minute moment the P.OWer of the sun is shielded blinaed by a creeping transparent moon: It only tal