Natives and me

As I write on this subject of Native Canadians in the North, I accept that I will probably be politically incorrect and possibly historically incorrect as well. I realize now that we lived and worked in the mining communities without regard for their safe keeping. This article is simply anecdotal, my own impressions and memories of that time, as are the other articles I have written.

My Father, Elmer was in an orphanage in Kenora for a few years after his mother died. He referred to it as a “Cree” orphanage and by all accounts it was not a negative experience for him. He spoke fondly of a Catholic Sister who was “Five foot nothin’ in her stockin’ feet” and who was a strict disciplinarian, but fair. He had a Cree dictionary and could speak a few words. I thought being Cree was very exotic.

My first close encounter with Indians was in Chibougamau. I think that the eight mile road and causeway to the Campbell mine site ran right through the reserve and I was frequently on the mine bus when it would stop and pick up Indians on their way to town. I saw an elderly man several times and he would sit on the aisle floor of the bus and stare at me. It was scary, until one night I was coming home with the mid- night shift and he communicated with me with the help of another passenger. All he wanted to say was that he and I had exactly the same blue-green eyes! He would have no idea how that statement would shape my thinking in all the years to come.

At least every Tuesday night we went to a movie. (1959- no TV in Chibougamau) The Indians just loved the Cowboy movies and when they came into the dark theater they would inevitably sit right in front of us. We would have to get up and move to the rear because the smell was unbearable. I didn’t think about wood smoke and the absence of plumbing and running water. The Indians were “invisible”, in much the same way we would treat handicapped people at that time-Not wanting to look them in the eyes for fear of offending them and never once taking the time to consider how it made them feel. It was just the way they were and the way we were.

One frigid winter night my husband and I were driving from the mine site to Chibougamau when we came upon Indians on the road. They waved us down and one of them made us understand that they were going to the hospital with a sick baby. They piled into the car and the mother passed me the baby to hold in the front seat. It was a 30 mile drive to the hospital in Chapais and the roads were treacherous. I remember that I was surprised the baby was so clean, with a white woolen hat and bunting bag and wrapped tightly on a backboard. We got them to hospital and waited to know that the baby was fine but they would stay there overnight.

Months later my baby girl was born in Chapais. She was the only white baby there at that time and she looked so scrawny and pale compared to the Indian babies next to her in the nursery. They were bigger and seemed to be better developed and robust.

One summer day I took my baby for a walk to the center of town to do my errands at the Hudson’s Bay store. I parked the carriage outside of the Bay and ran across the street to the Bank. When I came out of there, I could see about 10 Indians around my baby carriage. I was nearly frozen with fear. As I approached I could see that they were smiling and they started doing “sign language” asking if she was a girl or boy, by pointing to their children. I understood that they were complimenting me and my baby pointing at her lacy shawl and bonnet and cooing, shaking their heads up and down, in approval. They may have been the same people we drove to Chapais earlier that winter, they may have known me on the bus or in the theater, but I was oblivious. I didn’t acknowledge them by remembering them.

No wonder Native people have serious personal problems today, apart from the political and land claims issues, they have been “looked through” and made to feel invisible for generations.

I wish I could relive those days. I wish I had taken the time to understand their culture. I wish I had made a contribution to their Society. I wish, that among my friends, I could count even one Native person.

I wonder if they wish I had, too.

PS, Read more on Chibougamau- May 12, June 2, June 4, August 29, 2007