Indigenous Writes

by Chelsea Vowel

  In Cree, the whole of Eeyou Istchee is the Indoh-hoh Istchee, the traditional hunting territories as defined by Cree traditional law. Indoh-hoh wun are all the animals within one of these territories, not just the fur-bearing ones. The responsibilities of a Kaanoowapmaakin, in his or her traditional Indoh-hoh Istchee, goes far beyond what you might envision a head trapper doing.18 The responsibility is not just extended to individual trappers, but to all Cree people, and all living things within Cree territory. The Kaanoowapmaakin must monitor, manage, and share resources within his or her territory. His or her authority extends to resolving territorial disputes, inviting guests into the territory, and so on.

  So, while the English terms focused on trapping as an imported, individual economic activity, the Cree terms (translated into English through a Cree world-view) make it clear that trapping is part of a wider hunting culture governed by traditional laws and central to the Cree culture.

  All very cool, but where is this going?

  I am not drawing you toward some stunning conclusion; I am merely drawing you toward the question itself. Does it matter whether the Canadian government calls Indigenous peoples “hunters and gatherers” or “trappers and harvesters?”

  I am of the opinion that it does. When the terms used are English ones, defined in English, and seen through the colonial lens, much is lost. If some Indigenous hunting activities are being defined as trapping, and this definition results in the erosion of Indigenous rights, which has indeed been the case, then it is important for us to challenge these terms.

  Rather than seeking better English or French translations for Indigenous concepts, I feel it is important to return to our languages for the proper terms. The Inuit and the Cree of Eeeyou Istchee are already doing this. In this way, we centre ourselves in our traditional laws and our traditional understandings of the reciprocal obligations we have to our territories and to one another. Far from being feel-good, back-to-nature yearning for precontact mumbo jumbo, our legal principles are foundational and applicable to the modern era.

  Most of the Eastern James Bay Cree communities in Quebec have shed their English and French names in favour of Cree names, and all of the Inuit communities of Nunavik have been renamed in Inuktitut. Chaos did not ensue. I think Indigenous resurgence is very much rooted in the use of Indigenous languages. Canadians in general, individually and collectively, must become more accustomed to forgoing facile translations in favour of delving into the complexities of our Indigenous principles. To be honest, we could all benefit from doing this more often.

  To take this back to administrative categories and issues of identity, language has been used as a vehicle for the erosion of inherent Indigenous rights, including the right to determine who we are as peoples. I like to think language can also be a vehicle for the assertion of rights, and this is a topic I will come back to many times.

  NOTES

  1.“What Is Country Food?” Inuit Cultural Online Resource, accessed October 13, 2015, http://icor.ottawainuitchildrens.com/node/19.

  2.Alootook Ipellie, “Land, Spirituality, and Mythology in Inuit Art,” in The 1998 Nunavut Handbook, ed. Marion Soublière (Iqualuit: Nortext Multimedia Inc., 1998), quoted in Inuit Art Foundation, “Hunting,” Inuit Art Alive, accessed October 13, 2015, http://inuitartalive.ca/index_e.php?p=115.

  3.Government of Nunavut, “Hivunikhaliurutikhat,” Department of Executive and Intergovernmental Affairs, accessed October 13, 2015, http://www.eia.gov.nu.ca/PDF/IQ_Principles_2010.pdf.

  4.Inuit Art Foundation, “Hunting,” Inuit Art Alive, accessed October 13, 2015, http://inuitartalive.ca/index_e.php?p=115.

  5.“The Inuit Way,” uqar.ca, accessed October 13, 2015, http://www.uqar.ca/files/boreas/inuitway_e.pdf. This is an amazing resource on Inuit culture that should be read by everyone who works with Inuit people, or who intends to visit Inuit territories.

  6.Fur Institution of Canada, accessed October 17, 2015, http://www.fur.ca/files/fur_trade_at_a_glance.pdfhttp://fur.ca/fur-trade/canadas-fur-trade-fact-figures/accessed.

  7.Treaty 8 covers areas of northern Saskatchewan, most of northern Alberta, about half of northern British Columbia, and extends a little into the Northwest Territories.

  8.Monique M. Passelac-Ross, “The Trapping Rights of Aboriginal Peoples in Northern Alberta,” (Occasional Paper 15, Canadian Institute of Resources Law, University of Calgary, 2005), accessed October 13, 2015, http://dspace.ucalgary.ca/bitstream/1880/47194/1/OP15Trapping.pdf.

  9.Alberta Natural Resources Act, 1930, SC 1930, c 3.

  10.See note 8. This is an amazing document exploring the treatment of Aboriginal trapping rights in Alberta (specifically in Treaty 8 territory), including how oil and gas exploration has impacted these rights, as well as offering some suggestions for a more generous interpretation and redefinition of the treaty right to trap. Peter Hutchin’s quote is on page 65.

  11.Eeyou Istchee is the Eastern James Bay Cree term for their homeland.

  12.Grand Council of the Crees, “James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement,” last modified October 23, 2015, http://www.gcc.ca/pdf/LEG000000006.pdf.

  13.Cree Trapper Association, creetrappers.ca, last modified October, 2012, accessed October 16, 2015, https://web.archive.org/web/20140517052150/http://creetrappers.ca/. These quotes are by Isaac Masty when he was President of the Cree Trapper’s Association. Using the Wayback Machine, you can read his full welcome above. To see the current welcome, at any given time, visit: http://creetrappers.ca.

  14.Ibid.

  15.Ibid., http://creetrappers.ca/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/CTA_EEYOU_HUNTING_LAW.PDF. The original Cree language document can be found here: http://creetrappers.ca/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/EEYOU_HUNTING_CREE_VER.pdf.

  16.An Act Respecting Hunting and Fishing Rights in the James Bay and New Quebec Territories, CQLR c D-13.1 s 1(n).

  17.See note 15, page 16, 5.2.

  18.See note 15, page 17.

  7

  Allowably Indigenous: To Ptarmigan or Not to Ptarmigan1

  When Indigeneity Is Transgressive

  For thousands of generations before contact, diversity of culture was a fact in what is now known as Canada. Despite today’s official policy of multiculturalism, Canada has nonetheless collapsed cultural diversity into, essentially, four categories: White anglophone settlers, White francophone settlers, Aboriginal people,2 and Newcomers (which is basically Everyone Else and is, in my opinion, the more honest term).

  None of these categories is neat, or even particularly coherent when examined at all closely. For example, Black families who have lived in Canada as long as any of their White counterparts are still often categorized as Newcomers, and the existence of slavery as a reason for Black presence in Canada is thoroughly denied. The incredible diversity of Aboriginal peoples is ignored in favour of a one-size-fits-all federal policy. The meaning of White has shifted and changed over time as European-descended settlers expanded the category through official immigration policies, and so has meant very different things at different times in Canadian history.3

  Despite the flaws inherent in these categories, there is still a strong sense that Aboriginal culture was supplanted by White settler culture, and Newcomer-Everyone Else cultures are welcomed only to the extent that they enrich the Canadian experience; in other words, as long as they are expressed via costumes, food, and music.

  Obviously, I am simplifying what are a very complex series of relationships and social phenomena, all to state what is fairly obvious: Canada has a set of (relatively new) cultural norms that are settler-based, and these cultural norms constitute “the mainstream.” In Canada, there are strong ideas about “how to act,” which do not always mirror Indigenous expectations.

  Cultural expressions that can be commodified are part of that mainstream, providing a very narrow outlet for Indigenous and Everyone Else (particularly Black and non-Black POC) cultural expression. Cultural expressions that can be purchased in the form of goods and services, or entertainment, ar
e acceptable. Cultural expressions that cannot be so easily commodified can be seen as threatening, transgressive, or simply not Canadian.

  What does it mean to be “allowably Indigenous”?

  Indigenous peoples who visit or live in areas where they are not the majority of the population must navigate a series of cultural expectations that are still very foreign to many of us, no matter how many generations of interactions there may have been in our families/communities.

  Often, the biggest shift is moving from an isolated/rural environment to an urban one. Rarely is this a one-way relocation; it tends to be cyclical, at least among the first generation to make the move. Though these experiences can be described to others, I do not believe it is something you can fully prepare for. Thus, there is almost always an element of culture shock for those Indigenous peoples leaving their nonurban community for an urban centre.

  On the other side, there is no expectation within Canadian (non-Indigenous) culture that Indigenous cultures must be accounted for, learned about, or even really accommodated. Knowing nothing about the Inuit, for example, is not considered a fault. Yet, when Nunavummiut (Inuit of Nunavut) or Nunavimmiut (Inuit of Nunavik) go south, their lack of knowledge about city culture/living is considered to stem from small-mindedness, a lack of education, or ignorance.

  Thus, you can have a situation as there is in Quebec, where very few Canadians know anything at all about Nunavik and Inuit people other than they are located in the very northern parts of the province. You have a situation where Canadians are accustomed to seeing Indigenous peoples only within very narrow circumstances: as urban homeless, struggling with addictions/mental illness, or within the context of cultural celebrations (costumes, food, or music). Any other show or embodiment of culture is not socially acceptable, because Canadians have no way of categorizing them according to settler norms. This is what it means to be allowably Indigenous when you step outside an Indigenous community.4

  Indigenous transgression: Connection to the land is weird.

  Although commodified culture (costumes, food, or music) is an accepted and encouraged part of Canadian multiculturalism, there is an unspoken rule that none of these things should be too weird; at least, not in public. Settler mainstream cultural norms still hold sway over how these things can be expressed. For example, when Indigenous peoples began holding round dances in shopping malls in the winter of 2012, this aspect of entertainment/music and unrequested hypervisibility was seen as transgressive by many.

  So, when a video began circulating in 2014, and news articles ran headlines like “Woman plucks, eats raw bird on Montreal subway,” I definitely wondered if this was an Indigenous person doing something that was being misinterpreted through a lens of settler mainstream culture. Sure enough, Inuk Christina David, who grew up in Kangiqsujuaq and Kuujjuaq, took credit for the action and quickly began setting the story straight.

  I cannot help but feel there is a delicious irony in the fact that Christina David became (in)famous for an action that took place on Canada Day. Christina did a bunch of really fantastic interviews about what was actually happening. She clearly detailed the bird in question was a ptarmigan brought to her by an aunt, she was very excited to get it home and cook it, and she was removing its feathers inside a plastic bag – not eating it raw.5

  During one of the interviews she gave, Christina was asked if ptarmigan is expensive and, thus, a delicacy.6 There was a pause, and a startled “what?” from Christina. She then explained, “As Inuit, we don’t buy that. We hunt it up north, and we share it with our people!”

  Later, she was asked where people who want to eat ptarmigan can go and buy one. I was struck by the leap to commodification here, as in, if a settler wants something, it must be available for purchase, or at least defined by its monetary value. Christina had to once again explain this is not how things work when you’re discussing country food.

  I wonder if this made the interviewers a bit angry, like they were possibly being denied something that, whether they wanted it or not, they felt they should at least be able to have if the desire came a-knocking. It’s probably mean of me to even wonder, so I’ll cut it out. The funny thing is, as Christina explains, if they really wanted ptarmigan, they could probably get it for free if they were willing to put in the work to build a relationship with Inuit folks. But picking it up at the local supermarket? Hahahaha – now that’s weird.

  For me, watching this as someone who gets more excited over smoked fish and caribou meat than I do over Christmas morning, I felt there was a huge cultural divide here that a lot of Indigenous peoples can relate to. Where I’m from, hunters are expected to share their catch, and getting fresh country food is pretty much the best thing ever – especially when it’s a care package sent to you in the city. Bringing price into it and wanting to know which supermarkets sell ptarmigan make no earthly sense.

  I think the underlying fascination with what Christina did is based on the feeling that, in mainstream Canadian culture, continuing to have a connection to the land, and therefore with the food you eat, is weird – especially if you’re living in a city. For Indigenous folks who have relocated to the city, on the other hand, getting some wild meat is a little slice of home.

  A lot of non-Indigenous peoples commenting on the story, when it came out, focused on how plucking a bird in public is unsanitary. They are forgetting (nonurban) wild animals are much less prone to disease and contamination than domesticated animals, and a Metro car is already much more unsanitary than a ptarmigan could ever possibly be. The real issue is that the act was transgressive. It broke rules about how people are supposed to behave within mainstream Canadian culture. Regular Canadians don’t get that close to their food, and definitely not in public. Food preparation happens in specific places set aside for that purpose. Who says so? Mainstream settler values say so.

  As soon as the story broke, the Montreal police were talking about the possibility of laying charges. Was it transgressive or rude enough to merit a fine or criminal charge? Is having a connection with the land, and with country food, something that has to be restricted like this? Is it something we can only be allowed to do in our communities or in the privacy of our homes?

  She should become a superstar!

  Another aspect to Christina’s story that just fascinated the heck out of me was the many questions she received about what she wanted to do now that she was “famous.” I was told there were even suggestions about reality television! That immediate jump to commodification, of her entertainment value as an Inuk, blows my mind. It makes me think about the perceived performative value of “doing Indigenous stuff” because it is supposedly strange and exotic, instead of the original normal. Commodification of Indigenous cultures as a tourist attraction (and enticement to settlement) has a long and sordid history in Canada and continues unabated.7

  I imagine the reaction to an Inuit picnic in some Montreal park. Cardboard put down, nikku,8 mattaq,9 and misiraq10 spread out on top of it. Or, slicing off pieces of frozen raw caribou…. Is this a performance piece, perhaps? People don’t really eat like that, do they?

  The point is, even though Canadian multiculturalism is supposedly open to other cultures’ food, the reality is, if this food does not conform to Canadian norms, then preparing or eating it is transgressive unless it is done for entertainment value. Perhaps an “eww gross, can you eat that?” challenge on some game show. That is a place for an Inuk, even a place she can make some money! Plucking ptarmigan in a Metro car because she’s too excited to wait? Having a country-food picnic? These are possibly criminal acts.

  We’re not the weird ones; true Inuk pride

  There has been a lot of political talk over the years about reconciliation and respecting Indigenous peoples, and blah, blah, blah. The reality is we seem outlandish (how ironic) and maybe even a little scary when we present as Indigenous outside of spaces where this is expected. People immediately speculated Christina was mentally ill, perhaps homeless, and de
sperate enough to eat a pigeon. Christina was not even recognized by most as being Inuit. Her actions were pathologized because they were so incredibly foreign in the context she found herself.

  Yet, Montreal is home to hundreds of Inuit; the estimate from 2011 was at least 900.11 Many more travel there to visit family members, to receive medical care, or just to do some city shopping from time to time. Maybe that’s a drop in the bucket for a city that boasts over a million people, but hearing Inuktitut spoken around Atwater is a pretty common thing. Seeing women in beautiful sealskin kamiks12 and babies in amautiit13 is not at all unusual. Despite this, there does not appear to be any space made for Inuit. Routinely harassed by the police, followed around stores, and too often treated like second-class citizens, urban Inuit do not have an easy time of it in Montreal.

  So, when Christina asserted her pride in being a “true Inuk,” I thought this was important. It felt like she was quite humbly acknowledging who she is and where she comes from, and refusing to be ashamed about it. It is a reminder that Inuit people have been here for a very, very long time.

  That’s not to say what she did is, or needs to be, representative of the values of all Inuit people. I know some Inuit found her actions to be out of place, and I am not going to try to step in and say otherwise. However, I do not think what she did should be something subject to any criminal or bylaw charges. Montreal is not Inuit territory, but it is Indigenous territory. All of Canada is Indigenous territory and, whether Canadians wish to acknowledge it or not, all of us living in Canada rely on the land. Valuing cultures that have not lost connection to the land needs to become a priority; that cannot happen if space is not made in Canadian culture to expand the notion of allowably Indigenous.