Seven Fall 2014

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Nishnawbe Youth Magazine

Priscella Rose Martin

Commentary

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his may be the last column I write as the youth editor and media director for SEVEN. It’s weird to think about as I’ve been doing this for the last twenty-two months, and it would be lovely to be able to do for twenty-two months more but I have reached the end of my internship with the magazine.

Stephanie Wesley SEVEN Youth Editor

I have learned so much during my time here. I really hope that this magazine goes on with a new editor and continues to give you, our youth, a platform to express yourself and celebrate your many achievements on.

I know with each column I keep expressing the importance of you, our youth, sharing your stories and your accomplishments with each other in this magazine, but the reason I do it is because it’s needed. Your voice is needed, especially in a publication like SEVEN and also in many other areas of your life and the life of those around you.

As Nishnawbe youth, you possess different ideas and values. You have a unique and rich culture and history. When it comes to sharing your stories or your dreams, you’re also contributing to the journey of other youth who are reading your words and stories, or who are seeing your images or artwork. All of you who appear in this magazine are an inspiration to others, some of you even trailblazers in your own right.

So it’s crucial to keep sharing and to keep inspiring others.

There has been a tragedy during the creation of the fall issue of SEVEN. A young man who was going to school in Thunder Bay tragically lost his life, and there are many people out there who are hurting because of this loss.

FEATURES

Poetry & Music Classic Roots: Producing Music & Dreams page 5

Art & Photography

I was happy to see all of the support that came for the youth’s family and his friends, and am glad that many are encouraging those left behind to keep going along on their journey when it comes to education.

The death of a loved one, especially in such a tragic way, is hard to deal with, and it is important to seek help and support if you feel you need it. It’s not good to keep things bottled up inside, it’s good to mourn and to talk about it until you feel alright again.

And it is important to continue on because that’s what the one you lost would most likely want you to do, right? To keep on going once you are ready.

There is a lot of life to be lived out there, a whole world for you to explore, and life is very fragile. Remember to cherish your loved ones and take care of them.

Remember to take care of yourself as well for you are just as important. There is no one else like you out there, and you are irreplaceable.

I hope you enjoyed reading your and your peers’ submissions in the last eight issues of SEVEN, I hope you enjoyed the images, the poems, the columns, and the profiles because I sure did.

I hope those who supported the magazine through advertisements know how important they were to this publication, and how truly appreciated they are.

I’ll have to end this with my favourite quote from the one and only Dr. Seuss, taken from one of the best books I have ever read (way back when I was a kid) called Oh The Places You’ll Go. The book’s message is just as important to young adults and youth as they are to children, I feel.

volume 7, issue 3

Nishnawbe Youth Magazine

Sharing our voices Expressing our creative spirit Celebrating our culture Published by Wawatay Native Communications Society www.wawataynews.com Editor/Writer Stephanie Wesley Sales Representative Tom Scura Graphic Designer Matthew Bradley Translator Vicky Anges Advertising Tom Scura, Sales Representative toms@wawatay.on.ca

“You’ll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step, step with care and great tact and remember that life’s a great balancing act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft, and never mix up your right foot with your left. And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed! 98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.

Kid, you’ll move mountains.”

Short Stories & Essays

Art by Andrew Machendagoos page 2

Gina page 7

Photos by Priscella Rose Martin page 4

MEDIA & Moccasins page 8

Contributors Andrew Machendagoos Sage Petahtegoose Priscella Rose Martin Bruce Barber Annie Hollis & Kelly Hoskin Chad Tait Theodore Syrette

SEVEN Office phone (807) 344-3022 toll free 1-888-575-2349 fax (807) 344-3182 2nd Floor Royal Bank Building, Suite 202 Victoriaville Centre 620 Victoria Ave. East Thunder Bay, ON P7C 1A9 Funded in part by:

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SEVEN Nishnawbe Youth Magazine FALL 2014

Art by

Andrew Machendagoos Andrew Michael Machendagoos, age 25, was born and raised in Thunder Bay, Ont. Machendagoos, a member of Whitesand First Nation, was featured in the Thunderstone Pictures documentary “Woodland Spirits.”

The documentary was aired on TVO.

[left] “All Eyes On Me” – won 2nd Place Adult Division in the Peace Hills Trust Native Art Contest 200 - acrylic on canvas [middle] “Forever Young Series” - spray paint on acrylic [bottom] “Smile” - acrylic on canvas

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SEVEN Nishnawbe Youth Magazine FALL 2014

When an Elder Dies Sage Petahtegoose Atikmeksheng Anihnawbek

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he first thought running through my head was no. It can’t be. Didn’t I just see him? We had such a good time, he couldn’t possibly be gone now. But this was the reality.

What sinks in now? Not the reality, you still sit there and shake your head, wondering your way around the indefinite fact that you will never see that person again.

You’re in that place where you know it can’t possibly be a dream, because the pain is too much, and yet you’re floating as if there wasn’t the earth beneath you. For me it didn’t set in until weeks later when I was alone, in the city.

The questions that had been raised when he died had of course been apart of your thoughts when you first found out, but had they really gotten to you? The implications of “what happens now” finally hits you in the throat and seizes the air from reaching your lungs.

Now you’ve done it, I think to myself. You’ve pushed as far as you can, tried so hard to deny your identity when you were younger because you thought you had all the time in the world.

You thought that once you were older you’d be willing to learn but now that old man can’t help you anymore. Because you thought that, you have to reach out to other teachers past that shatter shell of yours. You know, the one that the old man could see right past because he had one of those too once. Maybe he kept it.

And when you’re alone the reasoning and emotions seem louder, and you can’t really remember what a conversation is like, or even what your own voice sounds like.

So you batter yourself down; you had to be so resilient didn’t you? You tried so hard to be white and fit in and blend in and now you remember the things you did to make sure that everyone knew you were normal, you could play white.

And the worse realization as that little brown kid you’re now reduced to is wishing you could go back and change your childhood and fit it into that traditional dream of what you could’ve been, what the old man aspired his grandchildren would become.

And even worse you think back that you didn’t need them,

those people they judged you anyways no matter how hard you tried. You were that indian kid to them anyways, so what would they have cared if you actually lived like an indian?

And now in your apartment in the city, with your life, your school cheques and your little set up was all a lie. They don’t teach you how to become Anishnaabe, they don’t mention how hard it will be to fight for it back, but they say you only amount to what you’ve done in their world.

Your realizations come out that you really didn’t learn anything from them. You learned to become a member of their society, not an individual contributing member to your life and well-being like that man was trying to teach you.

And it makes sense because you didn’t need that. You remember the times were simpler and all you had to do to feel good was listen to the teachings you struggle to remember, sitting around the grandfather drums. It was as easy as breathing when you were with him, you stupid girl.

It was easy when he didn’t have to push you hard to know because that’s what you grew up around, when you were really little. Then the visits were fewer, you had the hardest time remembering. You stopped answering his anishnabemowin questions. Because really, did you need them? You just needed to know English anyways.

The disappointed looks make sense. You always held those against him, like all he was capable of was perpetual disappointment in you because you could never amount to what this old man wanted. But that’s not what he was thinking about.

He was probably thinking, there she goes, another one lost to them. They win again. They took everything from you, your people, down to your bones, and finally, they take away your hope; the children.

Those little children you thought could escape the cycle and carry on the traditions you were failed but fought tooth and nail to regain. The alienation was back again, telling them that the way couldn’t be found inside the lodge, with their people or with their elders.

Okay, stop. Remember what you said? The good times? It sounds like you forgot.

He didn’t resent you. He knew he couldn’t control everything.

He and your mom didn’t make you go to town for school. The law did. He didn’t make your school not include your culture.

But what now? I’m crying because it hurts, not because it solves anything. He left us at such a crucial time. Maybe I want to learn now! I want him back.

Maybe it’s time to see what it’s all about. As you recall from stories told about him, he wasn’t into this life before either. He was like you. Not sure about much in life. What had come over him to switch from that white dream into the good life?

Fine, I will. If he did it a long time ago, found his way back to the lodge, then you can too. And you have somewhere to start.

He didn’t leave you with nothing. The old man, when he treaded through dirt, hate and strong currents, he carved a path for you to be able to follow too. Follow them. ***** Listening to the teachings anew, I love it, I missed it. But maybe something deeper in me missed it too. And suddenly you can’t remember something; when did you decide that this is what everyone else would’ve wanted from you to this becoming what you wanted? Because it is. I’d never trade it for any other, anytime, to anyone or anything.

Somewhere, despite this being your moment of revelation, you can feel that old man smiling smugly on the other side. He knew you would come around. They don’t always, but he knew you would.

So what happens when an elder dies? Does he die silenced with what he held, or does it carry on inside of you? Will you let it?

It’s just going to be a little harder, when they’re gone.

Editor’s note: “When an Elder Dies” placed 5th in the youth category for the 2013 Aboriginal Arts & Stories Contest.

When an Elder Dies – Author’s Statement My name is Sage Petahtegoose and I come from Atikmeksheng Anihnawbek, in northern Ontario. I’m 19 years old and I enjoy many things from writing and fine arts, to sports like football and hockey.

I recently finished my first-year of university at the Ontario College of Art and Design University in Toronto, and I plan on continuing for Bachelor of Fine Arts. I am very interested in the arts, and wish to pursue more than just one venue, like filmmaking and acting.

While this is a very important part of my life, I also have a deep tie with my spirituality; I am Midewiwin. I go to the Midewiwin ceremonies to learn the teachings of Anishinaabe.

For this story, I chose to write about a part of my history that is

more recent, and I feel like I was forced to write, in order to grieve.

My grandfather, Merle Pegahmagabow, passed away this past winter and his loss took a toll on our family, since he was such a good teacher and Midewiwin man. I felt that I took our relationship for granted sometimes, since there were so many things I could have learned but I was too busy doing other things.

However, I think it’s important not to chastise yourself too much because there are other avenues to explore to find your path. This story was for me, but also for other people who have lost an Elder, who are our knowledge keepers. It is important to acknowledge your loss but also not let it hold you back, and learn from it.

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SEVEN Nishnawbe Youth Magazine FALL 2014

Capturing Life Through a Lens

Priscella Rose Martin Attawapistkat First Nation

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y name is Priscella Rose and I’m originally from Attawapiskat, Ont. I’ve been a photographer since I was 14. I haven’t had any training whatsoever in photography; I’ve just loved taking pictures since I was young.

One of the employees for “Journalism for Human Rights” named Daniel Kresnyak found me in Attawapiskat and told me that I should be out there with my photos and stories. Daniel helped me and convinced me to start telling my own stories through my photos, so I contributed to a book that will be coming out soon called “The World Has Shaped Us” with Daniel Kresnyak. At first I started out with Wawatay News as my first five photos got published last year, and I went on with National Geographic Online.

During first week that I started on the assignments with National Geographic, three of my photos were in the top 30 for four weeks.

A month later when I arrived back in Attawapiskat, I was asked if I wanted to get my photos published with CBC Aboriginal. The next day my photos were already published and my first article I’ve ever written was also published with CBC Aboriginal.

Last year around mid-October, I volunteered my time to host events (Zombie Walks) in Moosonee and Moose Cree because I really wanted to take some photos. I donated a few items at these events like Beats speakers and cash.

A few weeks ago, I just came back from traveling all over Ontario to get more photos going, and I just completed journalism training at Loyalist College in Belleville, ON. The journalism training lasted two months and I’m happy that I completed it.

Journalism for Human Rights sponsored me for two months to get some experience as a photojournalist.

I love taking photos because I can see better through the lens of my Canon and that’s where all my stories come from. I take my camera everywhere I go because there are a lot of stories to be told from different communities.

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SEVEN Nishnawbe Youth Magazine FALL 2014

Classic Roots:

Producing Music and Dreams

New Album: Hack the Planet

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lassic Roots has created a new element to electro-dance music with his creative composing ability. He has created a new sound within and is evolving with his music from a beat-driven vibe to more electro-inspired rhythms with a hint of past influences that keep to his roots. With this current project, Classic Roots is looking to evolve his sound as he evolves through life. This will showcase how he has developed a story to tell through his music.

The inspiration of Hack The Planet comes from the evolution of the new sound and how it will captivate the world (audience). Hack The Planet has an anticipated release of early 2015.

Visit Classic Roots and find out more at http://www.classic-roots.com Bio and photos submitted by Bruce Barber at Alexander Kenneth Management

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he sexy heartbeat of the boreal north is being brought to life by the innovative sounds of Joshua DePerry.

DePerry is a northwestern Ontario native and rising First Nations producer and DJ known as Classic Roots.

Classic Roots is dedicated to impacting the music community and the electronica scene with his fresh sound and collaborations with other First Nations and international artists. Classic Roots established his original sound by mixing 70’s funk-soul with hip-hop beats, where he merged and discovered the freedom and unique sound of electronica. Classic Roots released his EP Addiction in the summer of 2012, and put out a video for the single “Scream.” A follow-up video for the single “Psycho” was also released in the spring of 2014. Both videos have been well received by Classic

Roots’ fans on social media and the views continue to climb.

Classic Roots represents The Great North Ontario. Born and raised in Thunder Bay; he is driven by a desire to instill hope and the love of music in, and to positively influence, his home community and other First Nations communities across Canada. Musical inspirations such as DJ Premier, Daft Punk, and “Justice” French Producers have helped Classic Roots develop his unique sound, which he perfected through the use of a drum machine and the music software Reason 8. Classic Roots is determined to continue producing his own music and pushing through to become an internationally known First Nations artist; it is through his own success that he hopes to inspire all youth to follow their dreams.

Putting Ideas into Action Nicholas Wesley Long Lake #58 First Nation

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ello Everyone, My name is Nicholas Wesley and I am a member of Long Lake #58 First Nation. I grew up in our reserve for half my life. During my years in 58 there was always things to do as a young boy.

I would chop wood for the grandparents, go in the woods, play baseball, hockey and all sorts of activities. I was never the type to stay inside the house, always had to be out doing something as there was little technology to keep us occupied compared to now a days. As I grew up my parents decided to move us to the town of Longlac, which was about a mile away from the reserve on Highway 11. When I moved, even though it was a mile away it was still distant as I was still young. I’d rarely get to see my old friends, get to join gatherings and activities that went on.

But that was how life was going for me so I had to accept it and start making new friends and continued on with my education. After completing my Grade 12 education I didn’t know what I wanted to do or what career would suit me. I began to try and get my life experience by working all sorts of jobs (i.e. Drill helper, Construction, Forest Fighting). When I was working construction, most of it was based on 58. I’ve helped with the renovation of many houses and the most recent project was the new High School for the community. This is where I began to get more involved with the community and started to get know everyone more and more.

When I found out about the new Business Information Officer (BIO) position being available I thought I would be the perfect fit for the job as I am an outgoing guy and very easy to get along with. I felt that this job would be a good way to get more involved with the community and not only learn and gain experience but to see people become business owners in the future. I know a lot of the people and there is potential business’s out there that just need a little bit of help to succeed. With my willingness to learn and the ability to talk to people I believe that we have a chance to see some people become entrepreneurs.

There is a lot to look forward to in the next few years as job opportunities are slowly developing. The wood mill in Longlac is said to be opening shortly. There is also Premier Gold and the Ring of Fire to look forward to in the near future. Even though it may take some time to get running and I know that when it does the businesses will start picking up once again and that’s when you want to be an entrepreneur.

Now is the time is start brainstorming on ways you can own a business and be successful in the future. Even if it isn’t a business, going to school for a job in one of these businesses would be a great opportunity as well. The opportunities for businesses and employment are out there we just have to put and idea into an action plan and don’t give up until you get what you want.

ᒪᒥᑐᓀᑕᒧᐃᐧᓂᐠ ᒋᐅᑎᓂᑲᑌᑭᐣ ᑫᐃᔑᓇᑲᐧᐠ ᐊᓄᑭᐃᐧ ᒪᒋᒋᑫᐃᐧᐣ ᓂᑯᓫᐃᐢ ᐁᐧᐢᓫᐃ

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ᐧᒋᔦ ᑲᑭᓇ ᐊᐃᐧᔭᐠ, ᓂᑯᓫᐃᐢ ᐁᐧᐢᓫᐃ ᐣᑎᔑᓂᑲᐢ ᐁᑲᐧ ᐁᐧᑎ ᓫᐊᐣᐠ ᓫᐁᐠ #58 ᐃᐡᑯᓂᑲᓂᐠ ᐣᑐᒋ. ᐊᐱᑕ ᒥᓂᑯᐠ ᑲᐱᐅᒋᐱᒪᑎᓯᔭᐣ ᓂᑭᐱᑕᔑᐅᐱᐠ ᐃᐡᑯᓂᑲᓂᐠ. ᒣᑲᐧᐨ ᐃᐡᑯᓂᑲᓂᐠ ᑲᑭᑲᐯᔑᔭᐣ ᒥᔑᐣ ᑫᑯᓇᐣ ᑭᐊᔭᐊᐧᐣ ᑫᑐᑕᒪᐣ ᒣᑲᐧᐨ ᑲᐱᐊᐊᐧᔑᔑᐃᐧᔭᐣ. ᓂᑭ ᑕᑕᐡᑭᑲᐦᐃᓂᓭᑕᒪᐊᐧᐠ ᓂᒧᔓᑦ ᒥᓇ ᓄᑯᑦ, ᐱᑲᐧᑕᑭᐠ ᓂᑭᐊᐃᔕ, ᓂᑭᑐᐦᐁ, ᓂᑭᐸᐸᒪᑫᐧᐸᐦᐃᑫ ᒥᓇ ᐱᑯ ᑯᑕᑭᔭᐣ ᓇᓇᑐᐠ ᐃᔑᒋᑫᐃᐧᓇᐣ ᓂᑭᑐᑕᓇᐣ. ᑲᐃᐧᐣ ᐃᐧᑲ ᓂᑭᐅᒋᒥᓀᐧᑕᓯᐣ ᐱᑎᑲᒥᐠ ᒋᒧᒋᐊᔭᐱᔭᐣ, ᑫᑯᓇᐣ ᐃᑯ ᓂᑭᑐᑕᓇᐣ ᐁᑭᐅᑕᒥᐦᐃᑎᓱᔭᐣ ᐃᐁᐧ ᐊᐱ ᐁᑲ ᒪᔑ ᑲᑕᑲᐧᑭᐸᓂᐣ ᒪᒪᑕᐊᐧᐱᑯᑫᑯᓇᐣ ᓄᑯᑦ ᐃᐧᐣ ᑲᐃᔑᐊᐧᐸᑕᒪᐠ. ᐁᑲᐧ ᐊᐱᐣ ᓇᑫ ᓇᐊᐧᐨ ᓂᓂᑭᐦᐃᑯᐠ ᐅᑭᐃᓀᑕᓇᐊᐧ ᒋᔑᑯᓯᐊᐧᐨ ᓫᐊᐧᐣᓫᐊᐠ ᐁᐧᒥᑎᑯᔑᐃᐧᑕᐃᐧᓂᐠ ᓇᐣᑕ ᐱᑯ ᐯᔑᑯᑎᐸᐦᐊᑲᐣ ᐁᐱᓯᓇᑲᐧᐠ ᐃᐡᑯᓂᑲᓂᐠ ᑲᐅᒋᒪᒋᑕᒧᐠ ᑭᒋᐅᑕᐸᓂᒥᑲᓇᐠ. ᐊᐱ ᑲᑭᐃᐡᑲᐧ ᒪᒋᑯᓯᔭᐠ, ᐊᓇᐃᐧᐣ ᐯᔑᑯᑎᐸᐦᐊᑲᐣ ᐁᑕ ᐁᑭᐊᐱᓯᓇᑲᐧᐠ ᑲᑭᐅᒋᒪᒐᔭᐠ ᓇᐱᐨ ᐊᐧᓴ ᑭᐃᓀᑕᑲᐧᐣ ᐊᓂᐡ ᑭᔭᐱᐨ ᓂᑭᐊᐊᐧᔑᔑᐤ ᐃᐁᐧ ᐊᐱ. ᐊᐧᐃᐧᑲ ᑭᐃᓯᓭ ᒋᐊᐧᐸᒪᑲᐧ ᑲᑭᐱᓂᑕᐊᐧᐃᐧᒋᐊᐧᑲᐧ, ᒋᐊᐃᔕᔭᐣ ᑲᐃᔑᒪᒪᐃᐧᐃᔑᒋᑲᓄᐊᐧᐠ ᒥᓇ ᐱᑯ ᑫᑯᓇᐣ ᑲᑭᐱᓂᑕᑐᑕᒪᐣ. ᔕᑯᐨ ᑕᐡ ᒥᐱᑯ ᐃᐁᐧ ᑲᑭᐃᓯᓭᐠ ᓂᐱᒪᑎᓯᐃᐧᐣ ᐁᑭᔭᓂᑲᑫᐧ ᓇᓇᒪᔦᑕᒪᐣ ᒥᓇ ᐁᑭᔭᓂᒥᑲᐊᐧᑲᐧ ᑯᑕᑭᔭᐠ ᐊᐃᐧᔭᐠ ᑫᒥᓄᐃᐧᒋᐊᐧᑲᐧ ᒥᓇ ᒋᐱᒥᐃᐡᑯᓄᐃᐧᔭᐣ. ᐊᐱ ᑲᐃᐡᑲᐧ ᑭᔑᑐᔭᐣ 12 ᐃᐡᑯᓄᐃᐧᐣ ᑲᐃᐧᐣ ᒪᔑ ᒋᑭᐅᒋ ᑭᑫᑕᒪᐣ ᐊᓂᐣ ᑲᐃᐧᑐᑕᒪᐣ ᓇᐣᑕ ᒥᓇ ᑫᑯᓀᐣ ᑐᑲᐣ ᐃᓇᓄᑭᐃᐧᐣ ᑫᑭᒥᓀᐧᑕᒪᐸᐣ ᒋᐃᓇᓄᑭᔭᐣ. ᓂᑭᔭᓂᑲᑫᐧᒋᑐᓇᐣ ᑕᐡ ᐸᐸᑲᐣ ᐃᓇᓄᑭᐃᐧᓇᐣ (ᑐᑲᐣ ᐯᑯᑕᐦᐃᑫ ᑲᐃᐧᒋᐦᐊᐨ, ᐊᐧᑲᐦᐃᑫᐃᐧᐣ, ᐊᑕᐁᐧᐦᐃᑫᐃᐧᐣ). ᒣᑲᐧᐨ ᑲᑭᐊᓄᑭᔭᐣ ᐊᐧᑲᐦᐃᑫᐃᐧᓂᐠ, ᐁᐧᑎ ᐱᑯ ᐅᓴᑦ ᑭᑕᓇᓄᑭᓇᓂᐊᐧᐣ ᐃᐡᑯᓂᑲᓂᐠ.

ᐃᒪ ᓂᑭᐃᔑᐊᐧᐃᐧᒋᐦᐃᐁᐧ ᑲᐃᔑᐊᐧᐁᐧᔑᒋᑲᑌᑭᐣ ᒥᔑᐣ ᐊᐧᑲᐦᐃᑲᓇᐣ ᐁᑲᐧ ᓄᑯᒥᑫ ᑲᑭᐅᔑᒋᑲᑌᑭᐸᐣ ᐅᐡᑭ ᐦᐊᔾ ᐢᑯᓫ ᐃᒪ ᐃᐡᑯᓂᑲᓂᐠ. ᐊᒥ ᐃᒪ ᑲᑭᔭᓄᒋ ᐸᐸᒥᓯᔭᐣ ᑕᓇᐱᐃᐧᓂᐠ ᒥᓇ ᐁᑭᔭᓄᒋ ᐱᒥᑲᑭᑫᓂᒪᑲᐧ ᐊᐃᐧᔭᐠ. ᐊᐱ ᑲᑭᓄᑕᒪᐣ ᐁᑕᑲᐧᐠ ᐅᐡᑭ ᐊᓄᑭᐃᐧᐣ ᐁᓇᑕᐁᐧᑕᑯᓯᐨ ᐃᒪ ᒋᔑᐊᓄᑭᐨ ᐊᓄᑭᐃᐧ ᒪᒋᑕᐃᐧᓇᐣ ᑲᐅᒋᐱᒥᐊᐧᐃᐧᑕᒪᑫᐨ (BIO) ᓂᑭᐃᓀᑕᐣ ᒋᑭᑲᐡᑭᑐᔭᐣ ᐅᐁᐧ ᐃᓇᓄᑭᐃᐧᐣ ᒋᑐᑕᒪᐣ ᐁᑲ ᓂᐣ ᐁᔕᑫᐧᓂᒧᔭᐣ ᒥᓇ ᑲᐃᐧᐣ ᐊᐃᐧᔭ ᓂᒪᔭᑫᓂᒪᓯᐣ. ᓂᑭᐃᓀᑕᐣ ᑲᔦ ᐅᐁᐧ ᑐᑲᐣ ᐃᓇᓄᑭᐃᐧᐣ ᒋᑭᐅᒋ ᐃᐧᒋᐦᐃᑯᔭᐣ ᒋᔑᐸᐸᒥᓯᔭᐣ ᐣᑕᔑᑫᐃᐧᓂᐠ ᒥᓇ ᐁᑲ ᐃᐧᓂᑯ ᐁᑕ ᐃᒪ ᒋᐅᒋ ᐃᐧᒋᐦᐃᑯᔭᐣ ᐱᒥᑭᑫᑕᒪᐃᐧᓇᐣ ᐃᒪᓴ ᑲᔦ ᒋᔭᓂᔑ ᐊᐧᐸᒪᑲᐧ ᐊᐃᐧᔭᐠ ᒋᔭᓂᐱᒧᑕᒪᓱᐊᐧᐨ ᐅᒪᒋᑕᐃᐧᓂᐊᐧ ᐁᐧᑎ ᐊᓂᓂᑲᐣ. ᒥᔑᐣ ᐊᐃᐧᔭᐠ ᑲᑭᑫᓂᒪᑲᐧ ᒥᓇ ᐅᑲᑭᑲᐡᑭᑐᓇᐊᐧ ᒋᑭᔭᓂ ᒪᒋᑕᒪᓱᐊᐧᐨ ᐅᑕᓄᑭᐃᐧᓂᐊᐧᐠ ᐸᑭ ᐁᑕ ᐁᔑᓇᑲᐧᓂᐠ ᒋᐃᐧᒋᐦᐃᑕᐧ. ᐁᑲᐧ ᒥᓇ ᓂᐸᑭᑎᓂᑎᐢ ᐊᐊᐧᔑᒣ ᒋᔭᓂᓇᓇᑕᐃᐧᑭᑫᑕᒪᐣ ᑫᑯᓇᐣ ᒥᓇ ᓂᑲᐡᑭᑐᐣ ᐁᓂᑕᐊᔭᒥᐦᐊᑲᐧ ᐊᐃᐧᔭᐠ, ᐊᒥ ᐁᔑᑌᐸᑫᑕᒪᐣ ᐊᑎᐟ ᒋᑭᔭᓂᐱᒧᑕᒪᓱᐊᐧᐨ ᐊᓄᑭᐃᐧ ᐱᒧᒋᑫᐃᐧᓇᐣ. ᒥᔑᓇᑐᐣ ᑫᑯᓇᐣ ᑫᑭᐊᔕᐧᐸᒋᑲᑌᑭᐣ ᐁᐧᑎ ᑫᔭᓂᐱᒥᐊᐦᑭᐊᐧᐠ ᑲᐊᓂ ᐱᒥᐡᑲᒪᑲᑭᐣ ᐊᓄᑭᐃᐧᓇᐣ ᑫᓄᒋᒪᒋᒋᑲᑌᑭᐣ. ᐁᐧᑎ ᓫᐊᐧᐣᐟᓫᐊᐠ ᑲᑕᑲᐧᐠ ᑕᐡᑭᐳᒋᑫᐃᐧᑲᒥᐠ ᐃᑭᑐᓇᓂᐊᐧᐣ ᐊᔕ ᐃᐧᐸᐨ ᒋᐊᓄᑭᓇᓂᐊᐧᐠ. ᐁᑲᐧ ᒥᓇ ᐊᓯᓂᑫᐃᐧᐣ ᒥᓇ ᐱᐊᐧᐱᑯᑲᐣ ᑲᐃᐧᔭᓂ ᒪᒋᒋᑲᑌᐠ ᐊᔕ ᐃᐧᐸᐨ. ᐊᓇᐃᐧᐣ ᐃᓀᑕᑲᐧᐣ ᓄᒪᑫ ᐁᓯᓭᐠ ᑫᑯᐣ ᑲᑲᑫᐧᒪᒋᒋᑲᑌᐠ ᒋᔭᓂᐱᒥᐡᑲᒪᑲᐠ ᐁᑲᐧ ᓂᑭᑫᑕᐣ ᐊᐱ ᐅᐁᐧ ᑲᐃᓯᓭᐠ ᒥᐦᐃᒪ ᐊᐱᐣ ᑫᓄᒋ ᒪᒋᓂᐡᑲᒪᑲᑭᐣ ᐊᓄᑭᐃᐧᓇᐣ ᒥᑕᐡ ᐃᒪ ᑫᑭᐣ ᑫᑕᑭᐧᔭᐣ ᒋᐱᒧᑐᔭᐣ ᐊᓄᑭᐃᐧᐣ. ᐊᔕ ᑕᐡ ᑕᐃᐧᓭ ᒋᓇᓇᑕᐃᐧᑭᑫᒋᑲᑌᑭᐣ ᐊᓂᐣ ᑫᑭᐃᔑᒪᒋᑕᐃᐧᓂᑫᓇᓂᐊᐧᑭᐸᐣ ᒥᓇ ᑫᓂᔑᒥᓄᐡᑲᒪᑲᐠ ᐊᓂᓂᑲᐣ. ᑭᔭᒥᑯ ᐁᑲ ᐊᓄᑭᐃᐧ ᐱᒧᒋᑫᐃᐧᓂᐊᐧᐠ, ᑲᐊᐣᑕᐃᐧ ᐃᐡᑯᓄᓇᓂᐊᐧᐠ ᑲᐃᐧᑲᑫᐧᒪᒋᑕᓂᐊᐧᐠ ᐃᓂᐁᐧᓂᐊᐧᐣ ᐃᓇᓄᑭᐃᐧᓇᐣ ᒥᐦᐃᒪ ᑲᔦ ᑫᑭᐅᒋ ᑲᑫᐧᒪᒋᑕᐦᐃᑎᓱᐊᐧᐸᐣ. ᐊᔭᐊᐧᐣ ᐊᓄᑭᐃᐧᒪᒋᑕᐃᐧᓇᐣ ᒥᓇ ᐊᓄᑭᐦᐃᑯᐃᐧᓇᐣ ᐁᑲᐧ ᑕᐡ ᐃᑯ ᒋᑭᑲᑫᐧ ᒪᒥᑐᓀᑕᒪᑭᐸᐣ ᐊᐣᑎ ᑫᑭᐅᒋ ᒪᒋᒋᑲᓄᐊᐧᑭᐸᐣ ᒥᓇ ᐁᑲ ᒋᑭᐃᔑᐳᓀᒋᑲᑌᑭᐸᐣ ᐊᔕ ᑫᑯᐣ ᑲᐸᑯᓭᑕᒪᐣ ᐁᐃᐧᐃᔑᒪᒋᑕᔭᐣ.

6

SEVEN Nishnawbe Youth Magazine FALL 2014

Annie Hollis – KI Visitor

L

ast year, I visited Kitchenuhmaykoosib Inninuwug (KI). I cannot sufficiently express my gratitude to my hosts, especially Karyn Paishk and her family, for welcoming me into their homes and lives. I hope to thank them by passing along what I have learned.

I did not truly comprehend the magnitude of the task being undertaken by the KI youth leaders until several days into the trip. Before arriving in KI, I was excited for a new experience and meeting new people. As a non-First Nations Canadian from a large southern city, I had only ever been exposed to the grade-school history textbook depiction of life for Aboriginal Canadians. My geographical location and culture has allowed me to remain ignorant about the issues surrounding life on a reserve for far too long. During the first days of the trip, I saw only the beautiful parts of KI. I appreciated the land, the mix of traditional and modern life, as well as the incomparable hospitality of the people in the community.

On the third day, however, I was hit with a strong feeling of discomfort; I realized that the unbreakable sense of community was only one part of life in Canada’s “forgotten north”. I had already seen Third World Canada in Toronto, but watching the documentary in KI was a completely different experience. Watching the documentary with the featured families forced me to look honestly at the incredibly unfair conditions of life in KI. As the week went on, I found that everyone I met in KI had a personal story about the way in which addiction, suicide, and mental illness had changed his or her life. I was uncomfortable with how easily I had continued to live my own life after watching the documentary for the first time. It is so tempting to dismiss feelings of guilt when you are removed from the situation.

Being in KI held me in a position where I could no longer think of reserve communities as far away and the people as strangers.

As such, the community panel that followed gained the power to resonate with me after I left. The most striking aspect of the community discussion panel was a general attitude that was equally positive and realistic. I was incredibly frustrated just hearing about the issues surrounding budgeting, infrastructure, and housing; however, the band council addressed these problems with admirable acceptance of the current situation and brilliantly resourceful solutions. I have never encountered a government that is capable of handling such significant problems with so little power over unjustly limited resources.

I left KI with a strong compulsion to bring attention to the issues facing First Nations Canadians. Non-Aboriginal Canadian culture tends to propagate a philanthropic ideal that encourages us to run around the world solving problems in far-away places, without ever taking a moment to ensure that our own people have the political and physical resources needed to thrive independently. As I join the fight for real justice within our country, I hope to demonstrate the strength and dedication that I observed in the remarkable people of KI.

Kelly Hoskin – KI Visitor

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stepped off of the dusty school bus onto a dirt driveway at the community grounds, and saw three teepees set up. There were community members milling around in small groups, their eyes watching us curiously and apprehensively, and the guests huddled together. At first, no one moved; it felt as though everyone was thinking, “okay, now what?” as the guests and community members stared back at one another. How did a white girl from Toronto end up in Kitchenamaykoosib Inninuwug (KI) on a Monday afternoon?

Believe it or not: Facebook. I had been trying to get involved in a trip to a Native community for a few years, but it never seemed to work out, until one day I spotted the event on Facebook. The youth of KI, the driving force behind the event, extended an open invitation to twenty-five “ordinary” Canadians to visit their community for five days in their community.

Forty-three guests accepted their invitation. I contacted an organizer, filmmaker Andrée Cazabon from Ottawa, and five days later, I was on a plane to KI. The scariest thing for me was not knowing what to expect; I have never been to a reserve before and, I realized, may not have even spoken with a Native person before. The town I was raised in, about an hour north of Toronto, is predominantly white. What I knew about reserves was probably what most “ordinary” Canadians know: simply that there is a lot of poverty and appalling housing conditions.

So how do you open dialogue between two cultures? Slowly and delicately, but assuredly.

Throughout the week, the guests were exposed to many things. We received a tour of the school, detox facility, Tikinagan Family Services, and various houses to see the conditions.

We also watched a documentary about KI that Cazabon made called “Third World Canada,” after a tragedy in the community. I was honoured to witness a Skype phone call between the youth organizers and Liberal Party leader Justin Trudeau; it was a proud and emotional

moment for the organizers. KI also showed us they liked to party, with bonfires, s’mores, dancing, and games.

When I first met my host mother, Jodi Albany, she hugged me; that is an indicator of the type of person Jodi is. She is welcoming, warm, open, honest, and one of the strongest women I have ever met. I referred to her family as my “host family.” For the five days I was there, they truly did feel like my family. I glowed with pride when many guests told me that I landed an incredible host family there, and I knew I did.

Being in KI was a big learning curve. I had to learn to not make suggestions for some of the problems in the community; as Cazabon said to the guests, “the community does not need ideas. They have plenty of ideas.” It was a kneejerk reaction to try to help when the guests saw the issues that plague the community. Most of all, even though my intent for the trip was to learn and absorb, I had to learn how to listen, truly listen. Listen to the stories, the tragedies, the struggles, the hope, and the humour that this community has.

It was a life-changing and very humbling experience. Surprisingly, even though I was gone for only five days, I did experience some culture shock coming back into the bustling city of Toronto. I did not want to be back to work, back to my “reality”; I wanted to be in KI, with the strength and spirit of the community. Now I am adjusted to being back home, but I will never forget or be the same. As Cazabon said, “when you connect with these people, you can never see things the same way.” Before this trip I hoped to go into social work specializing in Native culture and issues; KI has strengthened my resolve to do this.

If I were to speak to anyone from communities like KI, I would want to say that even though it feels like you are in “The Forgotten North” there are still people who care and want to help. I would say that I want to help your voices be heard. But mainly, I would listen.

7

SEVEN Nishnawbe Youth Magazine FALL 2014

Gina Chad Tait

G

ina is 17 years old who grew up in a respectful community that loved people coming in since and out. Gina stayed in school in well did she and ng, you was she y. yda ever classes that she’d attend ost alm es grad Gina would get good in every class she was in as she n turned 14 years old - that’s whe e ativ her parents noticed a neg change in her. her She would start lying towards nd’s frie a to mom saying she is going to study for a class project so the place mother would call her friend’s was she but a, Gin on up ck che to never there at all.

Gina bit his hands so Charlie was in shock. She then ran from the house, but Charlie started to run rlie after her. In the back alley, Cha rat with d fille pulled out a needle Gina. poison, which was intended for Gina had no place to run in the dead-end back alley, and Charlie dle grabbed her and stuck the nee ed aps coll She . arm a’s Gin into right in front of Charlie, who then ran away.

Gina would attend a senior high t school party every Friday nigh ed nam guy where she met this one ed rest inte e mor Charlie. Gina got in Charlie so they both started a hanging out more often, so Gin had they is falling for Charlie as a things in common. One night Gin g livin the in both se, hou was at his rlie Cha on. visi tele g chin wat room ng told Gina he had to get somethi him for ted wai upstairs so she his downstairs. Charlie was taking he e phin mor his for ing look time back t wen grabbed his things then n down stairs where Gina was. Whe she ing, hold was he t wha Gina saw what was in shock so she asked him he was doing. e Gina and Charlie began to argu t wan ’t didn he yet th, four and back him told to give those pills up. She he she was going home instead yet re. whe any g goin her t didn’t wan g Gina and Charlie began throwin yet th four negative words back and rlie Cha why and erst she did not und he girl a with ling trol con g was bein was he w kno not did She . met just that not very loyal with anyone, or and a r ake blem trou he was a known ity. mun com his in ict drug add y Gina began to push Charlie awa so go, her let to t but he didn’t wan Charlie grabbed Gina by the arm l then pushed her against the wal just and and told her to shut up . sit there. She was terrified of him nd arou a Gin slap to ns begi Charlie so she started crying and tried ed yelling for help, but Charlie plac she so th mou a’s Gin his hands over could not say a word.

ng It was getting dark when a you a Gin teen walked by and found not laying on the ground. She was teen ng you The all. at responsive Gina called 911 but she realized that was already gone.

Gina’s parents where in shock that evening when they heard in their daughter was found dead and d crie ents an alley. Both par were in complete shock over the tragic news.

Charlie was scared that evening c so he was hiding out in the atti . They him d foun had ce poli the n whe ed pen hap t began to question on wha to itted adm lly to Gina. Charlie fina and poisoning Gina with rat poison . sted arre he was r Gina’s parents laid their daughte be ld cou she so r afte rtly to rest sho life with her creator in Heaven. Her was tragically cut short.

So to the girls who are dealing w with abuse in a relationship, kno ted trea be it is not right for you to ts like a slave by any guy who wan give I y. yda ever you to control you advice to walk away and find past, someone who will accept your who guy a Find re. present and futu will who and y yda ever will love you are. y trul you t wha for you love been Don’t hide that abusive life you t wha ut abo e eon through, tell som ly real is d ban hus or nd your boyfrie . you to g doin Don’t be afraid to tell anyone.

Thanks for taking time to read this story.

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8

SEVEN Nishnawbe Youth Magazine FALL 2014

Media and Moccasins

Theodore Syrette Batchewana First Nation

I

t’s like clockwork. Every time a sister goes missing. An election is held or a gathering or rally occurs. The mainstream media gets wind of our doings, like we were re-enacting a combination of the Indian in the Cupboard and Pocahontas.

“What are the Canadian Little Indians doing today dear?” “Bitching and moaning about land claims I would think.” Many non-allied people have had these conversations. They are the ones who ‘believe that we are nifty.’ We are a rarity seen in the mainstream offices in the private sectors. They comment on our professional brothers and sisters, trying to make something out of their lives. But as we dress in our regalia’s of ties and matching pantsuits, we also wear an invisible band of feathers wherever our journey leads us. We can’t see them. But others do. These are the people who are unfortunately cursed with multiple faces and who hide behind a computer screen, like a bully on a playground awaiting their prey.

With every rally and protest, big brother sits next to the Creator, allowing for others to be aware of our gatherings. The so-called ‘unbiased’ and ‘impartial’ articles that are written and posted online about us, are commonly not written by any First Nation, Métis, Inuit or allied journalist. Go figure! No longer are the days of Disney cartoon films or Kevin Costner dancing with members of my clan. I always wondered if the woman he fell in love with was Tiger Lily from Peter Pan. Now we have the well-educated and finely versed comment sections on any media sites to keep us entertained and also outraged.

Chief Theresa Spence protested for the equal right for a better quality of living for her community of Attawapiskat First Nation. Her protest made thousands of Indigenous people to stand up and demand change for all the people of Turtle Island. Idle No More received inter-

national attention from human rights agencies and environmentalists groups around the globe to take notice of the political wrong doings and industrial raping of our Mother Earth. The only person who failed to take notice of these occurrences was the Canadian captain of the blue team.

Once again our people marched and demonstrated shouting that we will not be assimilated.

While others adapted or struggled to maintain their sense of identity in two worlds that can be difficult to balance, many other people of Canada wish that our voices and drums would simply diminish. They are the ones who are savagely blind with ignorance and hate. They copy and paste arrogance proclaiming that we are living in the past and that our history will always remain history.

Get over it we are told. “Why does my tax money have to pay for their education?” “I wish I had a status card so I could get everything for free.” “The only good Indian is a dead Indian.”

We have seen these posts. We have felt that anger. But we know about our education and our part of the genocide that took place here in Canada our home and our Native land. With the lack of any moderation the battle of words, rants and educational tidbits of information are thrown back and forth. Each side creates allies and the dividing lines of our communities begin.

But after the raw emotions that ensue we are often left knowing that the trials before the restoration of Indigenous people will be one fought with patience.

More of the Creator’s Children reunite and share ideas with each other in coffee shops, in community centres, and on kitchen tables. The discussion is growing. And for some the discussion is in our native tongues. Our spirit as a people shall continue to gain momentum on Turtle Island and abroad. Even though the virtual sticks and stones that are thrown at us after

every article or picture gallery, we will continue to persevere and protect our culture and our ways of living for our children and for our future generations.

Our history and our ways of living are lost on the minds of some.

However others respect us and ask to join in on our celebrations and ceremonies that are a part of what makes us unique; and sometimes nifty. No posts, no policies and no haters will take us away from who we are. Education and awareness are important in any respectful discussion about our people. It is unfortunate that some will never be willing to learn more about their country they call home. But to the people of Turtle Island and our allied friends and neighbours who participate in our nation’s longevity ‘Chi Miigwetch.’ Our truth will be forever posted in the virtual universe of the Internet. And with patience more people will learn and understand why we drum, dance, and dream.

Can we interest you in something from our menu?

We are certain you will find something to satisfy your appetite.

Wawatay News

Onotassiniik

Sagatay

wawataynews.ca

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