As in other situations, being a status Indian does not guarantee you access to a reserve, and there are non-status and non-Indigenous peoples who live on-reserve, as well.
Treaty Indians
Another subcategory you should know about has to do with whether or not someone is a treaty Indian.
Treaties, in this context, refer to formal agreements between legal Indians or their ancestors and the reigning monarch of Canada, on behalf of the Canadian government. The so-called Numbered Treaties were signed between 1871 and 1921 and cover most of western and northern Canada.20 British Columbia, with the exception of Vancouver Island, is not covered by any historic treaty.
A treaty Indian belongs to a band that was party to one of these eleven Numbered Treaties. The term treaty Indian is often used interchangeably with status Indian, although one is not always the same as the other.21
Other treaties were signed in eastern Canada, but there are vast areas in the east that are still not covered by any treaty. A number of modern (since 1975) treaties have been signed in British Columbia and in other areas of the country (such as the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement), and negotiations are still underway to create more treaties. Some treaties provided for reserves, and others did not.
Confused yet?
To sum up, status is held only by Indians who are defined as such under the Indian Act. Inuit and Métis do not have status, nor do non-status Indians.
Status Indians account for less than half of all Aboriginal peoples in Canada. Status Indians can be Indigenous or not, have band membership or not, can live on-reserve or not, and can be treaty Indians or not. What you should take away from this is to not make assumptions about status, what status entails, and what rights and benefits are associated with status.
If an Indigenous person is not a status Indian, this does not mean he or she is not legally Aboriginal; in other words, someone without status can still legally be Aboriginal. More important, not having status does not mean someone is not Indigenous. Native peoples will continue to exist and flourish whether or not we are recognized legally, and you can bet on the fact that terms and definitions will continue to evolve.
NOTES
1.“Justin Bieber Chided by Aboriginal Group for Free Gas Comment.” CBC News, August 3, 2012, http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/justin-bieber-chided-by-aboriginal-group-for-free-gas-comment-1.1193233.
2.Constitution Act, 1867, 30 & 31 Victoria, c 3, http://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/const/page-1.html. Originally enacted as the British North America Act, 1867; sometimes referred to as the BNA Act. This is just one part of Canada’s Constitution.
3.Indian Act, RSC 1985, c I-5, http://laws-lois.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/i-5/.
4.The Constitution Act, 1982, Schedule B Canada Act, 1982 (UK) c 11, http://canlii.ca/t/ldsx.
5.Check sections 5–7 of the Indian Act on the “Definition and Registration of Indians” if you are into bureaucratic gobbledygook: http://laws.justice.gc.ca/eng/acts/I-5/page-3.html.
6.If you want to read more about how the definitions have changed, this webpage is a great overview of pre- and post-1867 definitions and explains some of the more shocking aspects of the Indian Act over time: http://www.mapleleafweb.com/features/the-indian-act-historical-overview.
7.The name of the ministry that administers the Indian Act has changed many times over the years, so I am simply going to continue to call it “Indian Affairs.” It is now Indigenous Affairs and Northern Canada (INAC), and was Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development Canada (AANDC) under former Prime Minister Stephen Harper. For more of my life, it was Indian and Northern Affairs Canada (INAC) or the Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development (DIAND). Many people continue to refer to it simply as “INAC” or “Indian Affairs.” A list of all the departments that have been responsible for the portfolios of Indian and Northern Affairs since 1864 is available online, along with annual reports from 1864–1990: http://www.bac-lac.gc.ca/eng/discover/aboriginal-heritage/first-nations/indian-affairs-annual-reports/Pages/introduction.aspx.
8.“Aboriginal Peoples in Canada: First Nations People, Métis and Inuit,” Statistics Canada, last modified March 28, 2014, http://www12.statcan.gc.ca/nhs-enm/2011/as-sa/99-011-x/99-011-x2011001-eng.cfm.
9.Re: Eskimos, 1939, SCR, 104.
10.Daniels v. Canada (Indian Affairs and Northern Development), 2016, SCC 12. This decision is explained in further detail in chapter 4.
11.Bill C-31: An Act to Amend the Indian Act, 1985, SC 1985, c 27.
12.Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, s 15, part I, Constitution Act, 1982.
13.Statistics Canada, “Aboriginal Population Profile, Canada 2011,” National Household Survey, https://www12.statcan.gc.ca/nhs-enm/2011/dp-pd/aprof/details/page.cfm?Lang=E&Geo1=PR&Code1=01&Data=Count&SearchText=Canada&SearchType=Begins&SearchPR=01&A1=All&B1=All&Custom&TABID=1. Footnote 30 states: “‘Aboriginal identities not included elsewhere’ includes persons who did not report being First Nations (North American Indian), Métis or Inuk (Inuit) but who did report Registered or Treaty Indian status and/or membership in a First Nation or Indian band.”
14.McIvor v. Canada, 2009, BCCA 153. CanLII.
15.Parliament of Canada, LEGISinfo. “House Government Bill C-3 (40-3),” http://www.parl.gc.ca/legisinfo/BillDetails.aspx?billId=4336828&Language=E&Mode=1.
16.Indigenous musical bands are quite awesome; some of my favourites are: CerAmony, Buffy Sainte-Marie, Kashtin, Tanya Tagaq, Samian, and Digging Roots; you get the picture.
17.“Definitions of Anthropological Terms,” Oregonstate.edu, last modified December 26, 2012, http://oregonstate.edu/instruct/anth370/gloss.html#B.
18.Reserve is the legal term in Canada, while in the United States, the term is reservation.
19.Examples of landless bands are the Papaschase and Michel Bands near Edmonton, Alberta.
20.“Aboriginal People and the Growing Nation of Canada,” Social Studies/Manitoba Education, 2015, http://www.edu.gov.mb.ca/k12/cur/socstud/foundation_gr6/blms/6-1-4f.pdf.
21.As one can be a non-status Indian with band membership, thus a treaty Indian; or, a non-status Indian whose ancestors were members of a band who were party to a Numbered Treaty, etc.
4
You’re Métis? Which of Your Parents Is an Indian?
Métis Identity
As I write this in January of 2016, I am in my seventh year living in Quebec, where I’ve come to realize Métis still means “half-breed” to most. If you identify as Métis here, people will ask which of your parents is an Indian.
I am used to Alberta, where there is very little confusion about the Métis, at least among Indigenous peoples. I didn’t have to explain myself often back home because more people know who we are. Oh, Alberta, where I always thought we were pronouncing it the French way, saying “may-TEA,” though the French way is actually “may-TISS.” This is funny because we severely anglicize every other French surname and place name out west. (You should hear how we pronounce Rivière Qui Barre!)1 In French, the word métis/métisse literally translates as “mixed.”
When I moved to Montreal, I considered it a homecoming of sorts – a return to the lands of some of my Mohawk ancestors before they picked up and dragged their relations to the shores of our sacred lake, Lac St. Anne, in what is now called Alberta. Instead, I had to face the fact that the Métis weren’t born in Quebec; we became a people elsewhere.
When I first started getting that question – “Which of your parents is an Indian?” – I used to go into this long explanation about how the founders of my community were Mohawk from Kahnawake, which is just outside of Montreal. I would tell people how these Mohawk had intermarried with Europeans, and then with Cree women when they arrived at Lac Ste. Anne and the surrounding areas. I’d explain that we are Métis, not Mohawk or Cree. I’d tell them a little about Louis Riel and Gabriel Dumont and the Battle of Seven Oaks and how we are connected to the Red River Métis through intermarriage and shared history. I’d explain how the
19th-century capriciousness of “taking Treaty” or “taking Scrip”2 meant that some people who are First Nations are now considered Métis, while others from the same family are on a band roll.
Still, after all of this, I’d invariably be asked, “So, is it your mom or your dad who is an Indian?”
To which I’d say, a little challengingly, “Neither. My mom is Métis.” That is the moment bored, drifting eyes would snap back with skepticism written large all over my interrogator’s face.
“Oh,” they’d say, sounding disappointed and perhaps a little triumphant to have found a fake. “So, you’re like a quarter Indian?”
As impressed as I am with the mathematical skills of all the people who have asked me this question since I moved to Quebec, my answer is: no; I am full Métis. I rarely bother with the long explanation anymore, because I am tired of repeating myself. At some point, it’s up to other folks to put in a little effort to learn more about us on their own. They could, for example, buy this book!
Is there Métis status?
There is no real legislative context I can focus on when discussing who we are as Métis. There is no Métis Act equivalent to the Indian Act to provide an administrative context we can be shovelled into. Hopefully, by now, you have realized that even if there were, the boundaries would be anything but neat and would not necessarily reflect how we see ourselves. So, no. There is no such thing as Métis status. If you know someone with a Métis card, this is typically a membership card for a provincial Métis organization, not a status card.
The discussion we are about to have, as with many pieces in this book, is going to leave you with more questions than answers. Nonetheless, I’d rather have you asking those questions than believing you already know the answers. That alone would be incredible progress in this country!
Since there is no administrative context akin to status to explore, the question, “Who are the Métis?” will not be so (deceptively) cut and dry. This is me warning you about the mess we are about to delve into, because questions of identity are always fraught with strong emotions. Some may disagree with the way I frame discussions of Métis identity, and others are going to get downright angry once I make my particular biases clear. That is because, as with all questions of identity, definitions include certain people and exclude others.
To any academic readers, I apologize in advance for bringing up debates or issues that some think are settled, or should be moved past. Whether or not I agree (I do, wholeheartedly), the fact is that the majority of Canadians have not been part of these mostly internal discussions. In this context, I feel it necessary to rehash supposedly old territory with the little m versus big M identity arguments.
Okay, I think I’ve covered my butt enough. Let’s do this!
Little m and big M arguments
If you were to consider common approaches to Métis identity, you generally end up with two categories, sometimes overlapping, sometimes entirely separate, and sometimes with all sorts of anomalies left over and scattered about. When a Métis person is asked, “Which of your parents is an Indian?” the little m definition is in play.
Little m métis is essentially a racial category. This is the category I’ve encountered most in Quebec. As a racial category, one is little m métis when one is neither fully First Nations nor fully non-Indigenous. Métis was not the only term that was used historically; other terms included: half-bloods, half-breeds, michif, bois brûlé, chicot, country-born, mixed bloods, and so on. The name I blog under reflects that history, as âpihtawikosisân literally means “half-son” in Cree.
On one extreme of little m métis identity, one must literally be half First Nations and half not. On the other extreme, one can be Métis with a minimal amount of First Nations blood, something I will explore in more detail shortly. You can just imagine the range of arguments involved in deciding where Métis identity is supposedly legitimate along the spectrum of “blood quantum.” There are also little m discussions that include connection to culture as a Métis, so it is not always focused on blood. However, the cultural connection referred to is generally a First Nations culture, such as Anishinaabe, Cree, or Mi’kmaq, rather than a distinct Métis culture.
This leads us into the big M discussion. Big M Métis tends to be a sociopolitical definition, one that still often relies on the core concept of “mixture.” The belief is that mixing between European men and Indigenous women happened, and the Métis were born as a people (a process known as “ethnogenesis”) when they began to share a common experience that eventually crystallized into a national identity during a specific period of time in the history of Canada.3 There is less focus on race, although kinship ties are very much present.
One end of this spectrum considers only the Red River Métis and their descendants (including far-flung relations who may have never been to the Red River area) as legitimately Métis.4 Others consider any community to be Métis if it included people of mixed First Nations and European ancestry, who developed their own culture and shared a history. On this extreme end, you could imagine contemporary emerging Métis communities, not just historical ones.
So, who really is Métis?
You mean, what is the definition I use for myself and, thus, present as the definition all others should live by? Oh, come on. Are any identity issues that easily navigated, even on an individual level?
I will get personal because it’s important you know where I come from so that you understand why I have the opinions I have, and why others from different backgrounds may agree with me or not.
My understanding of my Métis identity has shifted considerably over the years. You see, I was only about five years old when the term Métis was recognized officially in section 35(2) of the Constitution Act, 1982.5 Although the term Métis predates that official recognition, it was not necessarily the most common term in use. Often we were referred to on the Prairies as the “Road Allowance People.”6 The term half-breed still got tossed around a lot when I was growing up and was pretty ubiquitous in my parents’ and grandparents’ time.7 Using, and being known by, many different names are experiences shared by almost all Indigenous peoples.
At that time, what I knew (but did not really understand the history of) was that we were related to pretty much every Indigenous person in Alberta, lots of folks in Saskatchewan and Manitoba, and many people in northern British Columbia. I have since also found kin in the Northwest Territories, in the upper Great Lakes area, and in the northern United States. Some of our relations lived on Stoney reserves, others lived on Cree reserves, still others had farms near places like Keephills, Smokey Lake, Rivière Qui Barre, and so on. Names like L’Hirondelle, Loyer, Callihoo (spelled a million different ways), Gladu, and Belcourt were a dead giveaway that someone was somehow related to me. Aside from the odd family story – that didn’t interest me as a child (but fascinates me as an adult) – I knew very little about our regional history.
When I started paying attention and began to feel part of something bigger, I turned toward the concept of a Métis national identity. That is when I started learning about our connections to the Red River, and what led to the Red River diaspora.
At first, I focused on the most visible symbols of a national culture: our language (Michif), our own style of music and dance, our own flag, our unique decorative style, the sash, and the Red River cart.
I still consider all those things important, and I appreciate the fact that the name Louis Riel no longer refers just to some French guy whom the English killed.8 However, the history of my region, the history so many Alberta Métis share, is equally as amazing and rich and worth learning about. The Red River diaspora is much more than a handful of symbols. We are many communities speckled throughout the Métis Homeland.
Take the photo (left), for example. Angelique Callihoo was the daughter of Louis Kwarakwante Callihoo, a Mohawk fur trader, and his second wife, Marie Patenaude.9 Almost every Alberta Métis can tie him- or herself to Louis Kwarakwante somehow through
family lines!10 Louis Divertissant Loyer was the son of Louis Loyer (heads up: naming your kid after yourself confuses things) and Louise Genevieve Jasper.
Families linked to the Red River moved west into Alberta, founding communities and forming strong relationships with First Nations there. The history of these families is a major part of the history of Alberta, yet I never learned about it in school. In fact, I’m still learning about it, and it becomes more fascinating and interesting with each new detail. My identity as a Métis person is linked to my family history and the history of the community of Lac Ste. Anne in particular.
The point of all of this is to give you a better sense of how kinship and history play a much more important role in my identity as a Métis person than quantifying my “mixedness.” This has absolutely impacted my views on who is Métis.
Dude, I still don’t get it; just how Indian are you?
Sigh. I have no idea. That’s not the point. I am not First Nations, and I am not Métis by virtue of being “mixed.” At this point, all Indigenous peoples are mixed and are not defined by the fact of being mixed; so, why should Métis accept such a definition? My Métis ancestors intermarried with one another over generations linking me to so many different Métis families that I tend to greet most Alberta Métis as “cousin.” Many of us Métis interact like this, which never ceases to make my husband laugh. You are Métis when you have Métis ancestors.
Some of us look very “Indian.” Some of us have blonde hair and dark skin with green eyes. Some, like myself, are very pale and are seen and treated as White (with all of the privilege that entails). Some of us look nearly “pureblooded” (if you insist on blood quantum definitions), and others look more stereotypically mixed. What links us is our history, and our present sense of kinship and community.
We are Lac Ste. Anne Métis, Settlement Métis, Smokey Lake Métis, St. Albert Métis, and so on – a history of settlement, movement, intermarriage, cultural growth, and roots dug deep. Some of us are closer to our Cree and Stoney relations than others. We all have our own ideas about what it means to be Métis based on our lived experiences.
Indigenous Writes Page 5