We were greeted by our "deep nature connection" mentors Chris, Skeet and Alexis. They are all experts in the field of outdoor education and survival. Despite their expertise they were humble and told us many times that their knowledge of outdoor survival skills, although much greater than the average person, paled in comparison with the knowledge of indigenous peoples of the past. As Chris told us, "Indigenous knowledge is knowing a tree like you know a family member, or a best friend." They spoke of how our lives are so disconnected from nature and the natural world, so much so that to many nature is nothing but an "abstract concept." Abstract. Something they do not understand. Something that is unclear.
As I participated in the activities provided for us, including identifying the uses for different plants and starting a fire using a bow drill, I thought about my own need to be constantly connected via my phone. I thought about the pictures I wanted to take of the activities and how I wanted to "tweet" about events. "Why is this so? Why can't I just enjoy the time and live the experience?" I thought to myself. Then I thought about my students at school and the constant battle it is to try and get them to ditch their phones for just a second, how they are constantly checking their updates and in contact with their friends and parents -- even throughout the school day. I thought about our school technology policy and how we are making it more lenient because taking away a child's phone is like "taking away their pencil" and they can't do anything without it.
It made me sad for myself. It made me sad for my students.
If those thoughts made me sad, the next part of the day stirred emotions in me that made me angry, outraged, devastated, yet hopeful. Shannon Crate, a member of the Chippewas of Georgina Island First Nation, greeted us with such warmth and openness. She began the afternoon with a smudge. What a beautiful ceremony. Each of us participated because a sage smudge can be done by anyone. Through the smudge we washed our hands so they would do no harm. We washed our heads and asked the Creator for an open mind and wisdom. We took it to our ears to remind us to listen carefully --- we have two ears and only one mouth, so we should listen twice as much as we speak. We took it to our mouths so that we are reminded to speak only kind words. We took it to our eyes to see the beauty and good that is around us in this world and we took it to our feet so that we would walk in a good way. Scientifically speaking, smudging a room is known to rid it of toxins, but spiritually speaking, it is an excellent reminder to us of how we can be better people.
Shannon was very open with us. She encouraged us to ask as many questions of her as wanted because that is the only way we can learn. She spoke a word that I've never heard before and that word was "Indigegogy." As an educator, I know about pedagogy. It is the method or practice of teaching an academic topic. It is constantly changing. Sometimes it's controversial. Sometimes it seems downright silly. It is part of the job. Indigegogy though is different. It is teaching the "Indian way" as Shannon put it, and it hasn't changed for many, many years. Before colonization, young indigenous people would learn through the stories of their elders. Their elders didn't provide answers for the questions they were asked. They told stories and it was up to the listener to find the answer to their question within the story. Indigegogy isn't hierarchical, with a teacher at the front and students sitting in row listening. It is about sitting with a group in a circle, sharing with one another. It is about going out and experiencing the land and participating in what is being learned. It seems right to me, but also foreign and difficult because I was taught a different way.
Shannon shared many stories with us that highlighted the struggles that she has faced as a First Nations woman throughout her life. These are her stories. They aren't mine to retell here. The stories I will retell are those of the children that suffered through the residential school era -- a dark time in Canadian history. A disgusting time. A time that brings shame (or should bring shame) to all of us. She talked of the children who were snatched from their parents, leaving mothers, fathers, and communities without a heartbeat. She talked of the children left to die of disease and starvation. She talked of the abuses perpetrated against theses children by the people that were supposed to be caring for them. She talked of forced sterilization of young girls so they wouldn't get pregnant because of the sexual abuses they suffered. She talked of the experiments performed on these children by so-called medical doctors. She talked of the people who lost their identities through enfranchisement and who are still searching for their kin. She talked about our First Nations people being the only people in the world who have to apply to the government to have their culture accepted and legally verified. She spoke of the disproportionate number of First Nations men and women that fill our prison system and suffer from addiction. And, it's not as though I was unaware of these issues, but it's different to hear about them from a person who is connected closely to the issue while sitting on the land of the people who have suffered so much. It's just different. The tears around me told me so.
As I got back on that boat, feeling the cool spray on my face, I reflected back on the day and the learning. There is so much work to be done in this country to rectify the injustices perpetrated against First Nations peoples. There is much learning to be done by all of us, not only in the education community, but as a whole. The door is open though. There is a ray of light shining on that dark past and we shouldn't hide from it. We should look at it in the face and accept it and then begin to change and make our country a stronger and brighter place for all of its people. I'm going to start in my classroom. Where will you begin?
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| Georgina Island First Nation |
Cheers,
Jackie
