In the last couple of weeks I’ve read two books about Indigenous Canadians.
Seven
Fallen Feathers: Racism, Death and Hard Truths in a Northern City by
Tanya Talaga (house of Anansi Press,
2017) investigates the deaths of seven Indigenous teenagers in Thunder Bay,
Ontario since 2000. All were registered in a local high school established and
managed by Indigenous individuals, especially for teenagers whose own reserves
were too small and underfunded to support their own high school. The children,
as young as 14, boarded with adults in the community and were obliged to obey a
curfew, so that if they went missing, the community and the police could
quickly mobilize to search for them. The community usually mobilized before the
police did and searched much more thoroughly.
Sadly, many of these children, disoriented and
feeling isolated from their families, spent their evenings drinking and using
drugs.
Three (I think) of these teenagers died by drowning
near a popular drinking spot. In all cases the police concluded it was death by
accident, assuming thee children had fallen into the river while drunk. Yet parents
could not understand how children brought up near water would drown. And the brother
of one drowning victim almost drowned himself, but recovered consciousness and
swam to shore.
This makes me wonder if there is not a serial killer
on the loose in Thunder Bay, preying on Indigenous teenagers.
Talaga’s accusations of police neglect of these
deaths is not without substance. A review of the Thunder Bay Police Force conducted
in 2018 found that “TBPS investigators failed on an unacceptably high number of
occasions to treat or protect the deceased and his or her family equally and
without discrimination because the deceased was Indigenous…Officers repeatedly
relied on generalized notions about how Indigenous people likely came to their
deaths and acted, or refrained from acting, based on those biases. …[S]ystemic
racism exists in TBPS at an institutional level. http://oiprd.on.ca/wp-content/uploads/OIPRD-BrokenTrust-Final-Accessible-E.pdf
Aside from the problem of inadequate (at best)
policing, the causes of these tragic deaths are largely systemic. They stem
from both the legacy of colonialism, and neglect by the federal agencies that
are supposedly charged with the welfare of Indigenous people living on
reserves. Schools are underfunded compared to schools funded by the provinces.
As a result, as Talaga explains, the children moving to Thunder Bay to complete
high school often all ill-prepared.
Also, living conditions on Northern reserves are
often abysmal. A disproportionately high percentage of Indigenous peoples
suffer from malnutrition, partly because of the high costs of food in northern
communities (despite government subsidies) and partly because they have lost their
traditional hunting skills. Many reserves do not even have clean drinking
water. Government promises to rectify
these problems often remain that; empty promises.
The second book I read was Beautiful Scars: Steeltown Secrets, Mohawk Skywalkers and the Road Home
by Tom Wilson (Doubleday Canada, 2017). Wilson is an internationally known,
Hamilton-based musician and songwriter. Not being at all conversant with contemporary
music, I knew nothing about him and did not even know that he had lived in the
block behind me for many years until someone pointed him out to me at our local
gym.
Remarkably, despite his dark coloring and taunts of “Indian,
Indian” from his schoolmates; and despite once hearing his mother tell a doctor
that she had never given birth, Wilson did not put two and two together until
he was in his 50s. Like many musicians,
much of his life was dedicated to sex, drugs, and drinking. Having chatted with
him at the gym and having read his book, I have some inkling of how much he
suffered during those years. Fortunately, he had married and his love for his children
gave him something to hold on to, even when his wife threw him out and he was sleeping
in his car in the parking lot of the church just down the block from me.
Tom’s adoptive mother, of Irish and French-Canadian
heritage herself, did not want him to know that he was Mohawk. When he occasionally
asked about his origins, Bunny said she would take her secret with her to the
grave, and she did. I won’t reveal precisely how Tom found out that he is
actually Mohawk, but only after Bunny’s death did he discover his actual
parentage and his Mohawk roots.
This is such a sad story. Why would a woman who
raised a son as late as the 1960s and 70s fear to tell him he was “Indian”? Did Bunny have racist views about Indigenous
people, or did she think she was protecting Tom against racists by not
revealing his roots to him. In any event, she denied him the pride that he now
has in his Mohawk identity and in the many Mohawk men who worked as “skywalkers”
(construction workers in high rise buildings) in New York and elsewhere.