12 minute read
Rebirth on the Land
Word by Zoe Ho
Rabbit soup
It was a rabbit soup that made elders cry. An elder had taken her “adopted” youth to the trapline, and shown him how to release it, skin it, gut it and boil it – making a delicious soup which everyone at the bushcamp enjoyed. “It’s ok to cry,” elder Lillian Elias smiled as she wiped away her tears, reminding youth at the camp that expressing emotions are healthy. She was moved to see the elder connecting with youth, it transported her back to her growing up days. “Camp Elder” Lillian, Health Resolutions Support workers Jeffery Amos and Susan Peffer were leading a one week “On the land Cultural Wellness and Healing Camp” where sharing circles like these were a daily occurrence. There were 3 other elders from Fort McPherson and 4 youth from various communities. It was nearing the end of the camp, and it felt like the elders and their “adoptees” were family.
The healing camp is part of a threeworkshop pilot series by IRC through BDHSA. The Couples workshop focus on communication, jealousy, trust, stress and trauma; the Men-only workshop explores identity, spiritual and emotional health; this Youth and Elder workshop focuses on anger management, leadership, traditions and values. Difficult topics such as elder abuse and intergenerational trauma are addressed.
“At first everyone was shy, keeping their distance,” said Jeffery Amos, who came up with the idea of “adopting” a youth to each elder participant so they could share one on one. “It was almost like seeing flowers bloom as it went on, one elder said it was like longtime ago, all family under one roof.”
Travis Thrasher, who moved to Inuvik from Paulatuk, was “adopted” to Lillian Elias. He has joined the camp to get away from “town”, marijuana, booze and peer pressure. He shared what he learnt from Lillian, “Remember where you come from... No matter what age you are, you always got to know who you are... The land is the healer of all her sorrows... As a young person, I want to pass on the knowledge and traditions to my families to come...” Travis’ voice breaks a little as he read “My grandfather Billy Thrasher told me one day I will live in his shoes, so he taught us everything he knows.”
“I would really like to get together a group of youth and talk about how we can help each other out,” said Travis a week later, inspired by his new found knowledge about all the support that is available. Since the program, Travis found a new job and is enjoying a positive new start.
Back to our roots
“On the land, this is where we first started, it’s like a rebirth, you can see the brilliance in their faces and smiles,” said Jeffery. His bushcamp, Lillian Elias’ and Reindeer Station have become healing sanctuaries for attendees. “One week is enough at first, not too long to miss family. Couples in their mid 40s were talking about trauma to each other for first time, out on the land there’s more freedom to express ourselves. Get away from bingos... enjoying country food, fresh air, sitting by the fire.”
Jeffery said youth as young as 12 wanted to sign up for the programs. “People are very aware of the need to get well. They know there are programs on the land, they are thinking is it for real, I want to see results.” Jeffery was part of a Minister’s Forum last year on healing, where 4 months of consultation throughout the NWT resulted in the primary recommendation that “Many addictions and primary issues such as residential school trauma and child sexual abuse trace to a time when ties to the land were severed... Leading people back to their roots... reconnecting with their spiritual and cultural identities so closely tied to nature can help them heal.” The Department of Health and Social Services allocated $900,000 in its latest budget to establish community based on the land healing programs to combat alcohol and drug abuse, priority problems identified by Inuit communities and regional governments.
Binge drinking is a major factor in violence, accidents and injuries, employment and family problems. Drugs such as marijuana, crack cocaine and crystal meth are being used more often and by younger people. Efforts taking place at the community level to help individuals, families and communities include addictions counselling services, self-help groups, sports and recreation activities, cultural and treatment programs, and treatment centres.
“Our ancestors followed the beat of the seasonal cycles, without it we feel lost,” said Jeffery. “We grew up in the bush, there were no drugs or diagnosis then. If we were sick we had rabbit soup. Many youth going through the justice system have been diagnosed with FASD but I’ve insisted on running camps where the youth take no medications. At first they go through withdrawal, then with good healthy food, and freedom on the land, none of the kids were hyperactive by the time they went back to rehab. There’s no need for drugs, what they need is for people to talk to them.”
Aftercare is just as important, and Jeffery makes sure to follow up after the camps with participants. “We call, email, phone, facebook... to let them know we care. These youth can have 3 way conference calls with their elders.” There is a toll free number for areas with less access to internet. Jeffery said every time someone returns to their community from healing camp, they learn tools they can share and are making a positive impact. “The groundwork is started, it might be just one couple in a community of 700 people, but I’m confident in their ability to help,” he said.
Hurt People Hurt People
Blacking out was a constant for Arnold Elias, who recalls wild partying where he woke up the next day remembering and wearing very little, such as during the 1995 “Polar Beach Party” where hard rock bands such as Metallica and Courtney Love came to Tuktoyaktuk to promote a new “iced” beer.
“I was addicted at a young age, 9 years old, I started with drinking, then drugs a couple of years later,” said Arnold Elias softly. “I remember watching my parents smoking up, and seeing lots of abuse in the family.” When he turned 18 he left residential school at Grollier Hall and found himself with no home to return to. Arnold moved to Fort Smith, and then to Tuk, Whitehorse and now Fort McPherson.
We met Arnold Elias towards the end of the 28-day Marmisarvik Addictions and Trauma Healing Camp held at Reindeer Station by IRC. Arnold said an immense transformation has taken place for himself, and the small group in attendance.
“When I walked through these doors, I didn’t know anyone, my biggest fear was failing...” Arnold took a month off work for this program having tried to quit drinking many times on his own without success. “This is my first time ever doing treatments. A few years ago, I slowed down on alcohol and drugs. I’ve three young kids, they made me realize what is more important.” Arnold is getting married this September, and wants to be a new man leading a new life. “My wife Ellen, we met in Whitehorse. I thank her everyday for taking me out of there or I’ll be dead.”
Daily sessions explore topics around addictions and trauma. Addiction is de-stigmatized, with counsellors who have been through the same journey using substances in a bid to mask pain they did not know how to cope with, only to find their addictions were ruining their lives and family. Exercises and group therapy are practiced so participants gain tools for healing and making peace with their histories and emotions.
The group learnt about anger, depression, abuse, boundaries, refusal skills, grieving, and the intergenerational impacts of residential schools. “Hurt people hurt people”, “Depression is anger turned inwards”, and “Addiction is an outer reach for inner security” were new perspectives that allowed them to know addiction was a symptom of their pain and not who they were, and that they were capable of moving beyond.
“We teach Inuit history – perspectives of colonialism, from control to loss of it. The clients say ‘no wonder our community and our people and families are suffering.’ It is the empowering process component,” said Reepa Evic-Carleton, founder of the Marmisarvik program in Ottawa, who led sessions at this camp along with counsellor Rick Mayoh.
Each participant actively made aftercare plans to maintain their sobriety. “I learnt to do yoga, meditation, self-care, making changes, acceptance... I can’t thank Rick enough. Most nights we stay up talking till 3am, he encouraged me. It’s been quite a journey, dealing with everything in my life, learning about how I’m burying my trauma. I did all my crying in the first week, screaming it all out,” said Arnold. “I realized I held a lot of hurt in for 16 years. My best friend had woman troubles and asked me to help. I gave him money to go on a plane to see her, and the plane crashed...” Arnold paused. “Now I can talk about it without blaming myself. In a fire ceremony, I wrote a letter to Jason. We all have our ups and downs, the best thing to do is to be honest, to talk about it. I took off my layers, I’m revealing who I am, it’s really good to feel the way I do today.”
In the evenings, there are individual counselling sessions, art therapy, presentations on healthy sexuality, sewing, lots of walks, and northern lights. The atmosphere at the camp was embracing, each cabin kept warm by wood stoves. Reindeer Station is nestled at the foot of Caribou Hills, about an hour away from Inuvik by ice road. As part of their recovery, participants are encouraged to go back to town every Sunday, where they can test out their resolve to stay clean.
“I went to Inuvik a few times on my own, I walked towards the bar, my legs got weak, people asked me to drink.” Arnold learnt that “to avoid slipping, avoid slippery places,” changing his route and rut.
“At first I missed home a lot, now I phone the kids and Ellen tells me not to worry, ‘do this for yourself’. ” Arnold misplaced his engagement ring one Sunday and stayed an extra day in Inuvik. At the home of one of his closest friends, his friend was drinking. “At first he said ‘I won’t ask you’. After he had four beers he opened two and put one towards me. I told him, ‘If you offer this to me, you have no respect for me. Even if you asked 100 times, the answer is still no.’ It was difficult. He had to accept I’m trying to sober up for me and my family. We talked for an hour and at the end he understood.” It was a relief to Arnold that he was able to say no. “Once you said no a couple of times, it gets easier.”
“I just celebrated my one month sobriety on the 21st of March. I drank from 9 to 39, 30 years... my kids will never see me have another drink until I die,” he said. “It’s really good to have pushed me to see life, family, everything we love as precious. Release grudges, people we hurt in the past... I’m not afraid to say that I’m in treatment, I’m not ashamed, people say ‘right on, keep it up’. Relapse is just a word.”
Arnold felt that hearing other people’s stories gave him strength. “I feel my life is on track, I’m feeling confident about myself, and I’ve gotta have faith.”
Healing Past, Present, Future
Jeffery Amos is passionate about his work as counsellor and health resolutions support worker. “I totally enjoy it. Why did I choose this field? If you knew me 20 years ago, I was an alcoholic, a partier, I was on the streets for awhile.” Although he made a good income as a house painter, Jeffery came back from blacking out on Mother’s Day in 1989, to his wife saying they had barely enough money for food. He looked around at his children, who were wearing hand-me-downs, and their dilapidated home.
“I hit bottom,” he said. “I heard my grandfather’s voice. A long time ago, when I was three years old, I was sawing logs with my grandfather Amos Tumma, he told me ‘You’ll be helping your people one day.’ I had no idea what he meant then, but it came back to me loud and clear that day. I stopped drinking.”
The sobriety journey was difficult. “For three years I was so alone, where were my friends? One day I went into the Zoo (the bar then), and there were my friends, at same table, and my chair was still there, empty. I was so angry I yelled at them and left.” Jeffery has reconciled with many of these friends since then. “It was good at the same time, those were growing years for us, our children also benefited from our recovery.”
Jeffery also remembers learning about the strength of community. “When my wife and I were getting sober 25 years ago, we had lots of support. People didn’t want to see us stay on the streets,” he said.
Today, Jeffery and his wife Dorothy specialize in helping sexual abuse victims. “Knowing that they are not alone, others have gone through it helps. Dorothy learnt how to forgive. She was sexually abused as a child. It’s easier for people to talk to you when they know you’ve been through the same thing.” Jeffery’s son Jordan has attended every one of the three pilot On the Land Healing programs, as participant and supporter.
“When you forgive, something powerful takes place. Today I understand what my grandfather meant. You got to help all people to heal. Not just Inuvialuit, Gwich’in, all people,” he said.
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Contact Resolutions Health Support Office at 1-855-777-5230 for more info on healing camps.
