I liked it there. It’s really small with lots of wildlife. You used to be able to see caribou all the time in Iqaluit, but not anymore. We saw polar bear in Coral Harbour and caribou and fox. There’s walrus and Beluga whales. It was easy to get to know everyone. Also there are no bars in Coral Harbour, so there were no drunk people around. I liked that a lot.
But it didn’t work out with Mom’s boyfriend, so we came back to Iqaluit. My mother’s home community is here. Our dad’s in Pangnirtung but now he’s living somewhere in Ontario. Ottawa, I think. He sends us letters sometimes, but I don’t know his address.
My sister and I are in foster care now. Our foster mom works at a bank. If people need a loan, they go talk to her. Our foster dad is a lawyer.
Our mother is here in Iqaluit but she’s not well. She has a little problem with alcohol. She gets sad from all the things that have happened to her. So it’s not good for us to live with her just now.
Our grandmother was the one who told us that we should join air cadets. I’ve been in it for about three years, my sister for two.
In cadets we learn all about flying, about planes, about survival, about the military. We do drills, shoot rifles, although we use pellets instead of real bullets.
We shoot at targets. There are different kinds. The one I like the best is where you shoot at different colors of dots. Another is a drawing of dynamite and you shoot at where the fuse lights up.
We have shooting competitions — cadets against the parents. Two cadets and two parents go on the shooting range, and they have to see who can hit the most targets in a certain amount of time.
We go to cadet camp in the summer in Whitehorse. The first year I went, I got to fly in two small planes. The planes have two pilots and three passengers. The cadet flies the plane along with the real pilot.
The basic cadet camp is in Whitehorse. After that I went to a basic leadership camp in Penhold, Alberta. Sheila and I went to the same camps for the first years, but this year she’s going to a camp that teaches basic aviation and engineering. I’ll be going to a six-week leadership training.
I’ve done some leadership training already. It teaches you how to get to know who your students are — who is quiet, who talks a lot, who learns fast, who learns better in groups. The idea is to learn how to teach things in a way that everyone can learn it and to also have fun while they’re learning. At last year’s camp we had to create our own teaching materials and decide how to do it.
You can learn survival training if you go to a basic survival training camp, but there’s a big difference between survival in the south and survival up here in the north. Some things are the same but not many. How to build a fire, how to get help, how to get food. They’re all different up here.
Drilling was hard to learn at first because it’s not a regular way of moving. You have to concentrate. And if you’re looking to the person in front of you to help you and they’re not in step, then you’re thrown off too.
But drilling is good because it teaches you how to discipline yourself and how to stay still. Often when you sit in the regular way, you fidget, or squirm, or your attention goes. It’s hard to sit still and focus yourself. Try it and see. But it gets easier with practice. Our elders know how to do it. They had to do it during hunting and fishing.
When the training gets hard, I remind myself of all the opportunities we’re getting. Sheila was thinking of quitting but decided to keep on with it. Next year she can get a glider’s license if she works hard. That’s a good deal.
The things Sheila doesn’t like are putting gel in her hair to keep it smooth when she’s in her uniform. I hate polishing my boots and I have to cut my hair every week. But I like the uniform and what I’m learning, and the good is more than the not so good.
Downtown Iqaluit
We have a new officer leading us. She’s tough and smart and strong. She’s giving us inspections every week. The cadet who has the best uniform gets free canteen. That means they get to choose some items from the canteen. It’s snacks.
Sheila and I work at the Northern store. That’s the big store here that sells groceries, clothes, furniture and camping gear. Sheila stacks groceries and carries heavy stuff. I work at a cash register. It’s usually the other way around, with girls working the cash and guys doing stock. I’ve been working there for almost two years. I’d like to get a job at the Quick Stop variety store on the road to Apex. It’s a smaller shop.
Iqaluit is a really good place, lots of homes and our school is really nice. But there are problems too. There’s not a lot of shops, so if you don’t like the clothes in the Northern store, you’re kind of out of luck. Unless you’re able to go south to shop, and a flight south is really expensive. It seems like almost every parent has to give up their kids or put their kids in foster care. Lots of kids don’t have money to eat every day.
My supervisor at the Northern store told me to watch out for stealers. It puts me in a funny position because I don’t want to get fired but I also don’t want to get people in trouble. Most of the poor people are Inuit, not white. I don’t want to rat on my own people. Some of the folks I’ve seen steal things I know are really poor, and they steal because they’re hungry. One guy stole a box of frozen pizza. Another guy stole a bag of brown sugar. I guess it’s what they could grab. Food is really expensive up here, and if you don’t have a good job, it’s easy to go hungry.
There are a lot of Inuit up here. More Inuit than white people, so I haven’t had to deal with racism up here. There were times with other cadets when I went to camps in the south. One white kid used to talk to me as though I was stupid. This was at the camp in Penhold. I wasn’t the only one he treated badly. The leaders caught on to this kid and he got RTU — Returned to Unit.
In my sister’s flight — an air cadet word for group — a few white kids would ask her to say words in our language, then they’d make fun of how it sounded and say disrespectful things about our family. The flight sergeants made them knock it off.
Both my sister and I want to join the military when we’re older. Sheila’s also thinking about becoming a commercial pilot. We’re learning things in cadets that will help us get there.
Angelica, 11
During the Second World War, the government took nearly one million acres from Native Americans for military purposes. Some of the land was used for training. Some of the land was used for Japanese internment camps.
The Western Shoshone have the unfortunate distinction of being the most heavily bombed nation on earth. Their land, which traditionally stretched from Idaho to California’s Mojave Desert, includes the Nevada Test Site, where 928 American and 19 British atomic bombs have been detonated. Some were underground in a series of artificial tunnels and caves. Many were above ground.
Communities could feel the ground shake from the explosions and see the bright flashes of light. The radioactive dust settled on their homes, turning gardens black, killing animals and causing cancer in people.
The Duckwater Shoshone Tribe, in the high Nevada desert, was one of the communities contaminated by the fallout from these bombs.
I met Angelica in the community’s gymnasium.
There are thirteen students in my school — the whole school. It’s the Duckwater Shoshone Elementary School, and if you want to see it just walk out of this gym and go down the hall and it’s right there.
We have two classrooms and a library. The thirteen of us are split into groups, all ages in each group, so we all study together. One teacher takes a group for reading, another takes a group for math, then we switch classrooms.
Road to the Duckwater
Shoshone Reservation
A year ago we had really bad scores on our reading tests. The teacher said, “I’ll work really hard to help you all read better, and if you work really hard too, then we’ll all be in it together.” So we tal
ked about it and decided that’s what we would do. So we did.
I grew up here so it’s normal for me to go to a small school. I went to another school for a while — the one up on the highway. It’s a public school, so white kids go there. It’s about the same size as this school. I like it here because I get to learn the Shoshone language.
There’s a really big kitchen in this place, big like in a restaurant. Almost every week there is some event here and people from the community come and we all have a big meal together. We all know everyone and they all know us, and when someone asks us how we’re doing in school we better have a good answer!
Today we’re doing our Veterans’ Day ceremony. Everyone is here. The whole rez. You could drive through the whole rez today and you wouldn’t see anyone. Because they’re all here! Even the kids from the other school are here.
I’m doing a Fancy Shawl Dance at the ceremony and I’m helping to give out the honors. All the kids in the school are taking part. Some are flag bearers. Some are dancers.
It’s about honoring the veterans. We do it every year. Lots of people from here have been in the military. My mom was in the air guard for six years. In my family there are people who were in the marines and the air force. Almost everyone here has done that or had a relative who has done that.
What will happen is we’ll have a grand entry. The dancers will come in, then the flags, and everyone will stand. Then the people who had people go to war will come forward and be honored. Then the people who went to war will come up and everyone applauds.
My great-granddad was in the army. He trained mine dogs — dogs that sniff out bombs in the ground. One of my teachers is a veteran too. It’s a common thing.
My mom works at the planning office on the reservation. She has an office here, but she travels all over for her work. I go with her a lot and we meet other Native people. We go to Phoenix, Reno, Salt Lake City, all over. Mom has her meeting and I hang out with the other kids. It’s good.
I have four sisters and two brothers, all older than me. Some are in their thirties. One of my sisters is in high school in Las Vegas. She’s staying there with a friend. When the time comes for me to go to high school I’ll bus out to Eureka probably, but I might stay here and do it online.
My house is out by itself, out by an old cattle car. There are lots of things I like to do in my free time. Play tag. Run around. I like basketball. I like baking pies. Last winter I made pies practically every day, I liked it so much. I may become a baker after I finish school. One of my favorite things is to swing from the tree branch in the yard. It makes the dogs bark and it’s really funny.
We live out by Duckwater Falls, where the hot spring is. It’s a big swimming hole and it’s warm water all year round. You can just go for a swim even in the winter.
Duckwater isn’t a big place and there’s not a lot of people. We kids all know each other. When we have problems we have to work it out because we’re all just here together.
Wusto, 15
The legacy of residential schools and colonialism has led many to try to mask their pain with alcohol and illegal drugs. While many reserves and reservations have been declared by their communities to be “dry” (no alcohol can be brought in or sold), smugglers still find ways to bring it in. New mining opportunities — including the building of roads and an influx of non-community workers — create new opportunities for smugglers.
I met Wusto at a Native youth drug treatment center.
I was born in Toronto but I grew up on Wikwemikong Reserve on Manitoulin Island. We call it Wiky for short. Mom is Ojibwe and my dad is Mi’kmaq.
I’ve lived most of my life in Wiky. It feels free up there. You can walk around late at night without being afraid. Little kids play all over the roads because there aren’t many cars.
On the down side you can wake up on summer nights to the sound of people fighting. There’s lots of drinking up there. Some adults go on week-long drinking binges.
It’s a good place to live from birth until grade four, but not so good after that. There’s very little for kids to do. That’s why we end up drinking and on drugs.
After grade four, everything changes. You see older kids. You look up to them and want to do what they do.
The teachers don’t say anything if they know you’re high because if they kicked out all the kids in class who were high there’d be no one left in the classroom.
I went to school high on drugs every day in grade eight and no one said anything to me about it. The teachers could recognize the signs. It’s not hard to spot.
I started out with weed, like everyone else. It’s everywhere up there. After weed most kids move on to pills like OxyContin and Percocet. Lots start oxys even younger than me. Oxys are hard to get off of. You get the shakes bad.
A friend’s mom goes to Sudbury, the closest big city, and steals things. She sells what she steals and uses the money to buy drugs. Before her trip she goes to her customers and asks them what they want. She’ll steal what they want, they’ll pay her, and that’s how she gets money.
In another friend’s house there were ten kids, all getting high. Their dad’s off somewhere, disappeared, and their mom says nothing. She grows weed in her basement. It brings in money.
If someone is getting investigated, someone in the police station will let the family know they’re being watched. So it never ends.
There are often drug busts in the high school. The high school on the reserve is really nice. You can study Native languages there. But still, lots of drugs.
OxyContin is a prescription drug. It’s for pain if you break a bone or something. People work at places where they can steal it, then sell it. It’s expensive. It can cost you $30 to get high. The price goes up with the dosage.
I did oxy only once, but I’d do it again if I wasn’t here in treatment. You crush the pill into tinfoil, light it and inhale the smoke. You get high as soon as you inhale. It’s also called Hillbilly Heroin. Once you breathe it in you just put your head back and be high. Your face feels happy.
Wiky could be a great place to live if it weren’t so messed up. People my grandmother’s age were sent to residential schools. They were taken away from their families, put into institutions, were punished for speaking their languages, were told they were no good because they’re Indian. They lost touch with their families. A lot of them were hit or were sexually abused by the priests or teachers. When they grew up and got out and had their own kids, they had no idea how to be parents.
It wasn’t just my grandparents’ generation that this happened to. My dad had a terrible time at school too. He got hurt and picked on all the time by the white teachers, him and the other Native kids. He got picked up by the ears and dropped to the floor. They made him kneel on hot radiators. And he wasn’t allowed to speak his language.
Alcohol was an escape. When Dad was a kid his mom and dad would be passed out on the floor and he’d take a taste of their booze. They made their own booze so it was cheap and always around. His parents were both in residential school. They didn’t know how to be parents. They didn’t know how to show him love.
There were lots of suicides in Dad’s community when he was younger. There still are but they’re trying to fix it.
Dad had a drinking problem for a long while, but he managed to get out of that cycle. He’s been sober now for fifteen years.
It was in the summer between grade four and grade five that I first smoked grass. My friend and I found my brother’s pipe that had some weed in it and we smoked that.
You don’t need an actual pipe though. You can get an old can, poke some holes in it and smoke weed through that.
I won’t lie to you. There’s parts about taking drugs that I really like. But there’s parts I don’t like too, like seeing what people are like after a lot of years of doing it. I’ve seen too many fights, too many wasted people.
> I’ve always known that I’m going to college. My mom constantly tells me that I’m going and the way she says it, there’s no arguing with her. Other people say I’ll end up pregnant, on welfare and dead-ending it. My mom’s voice is stronger. My mom is a woman you don’t want to mess with. If she says I’m going to college, then I’m going. End of story.
Most kids don’t have someone like my mom who will say things like that to them. And if you don’t see anything different, you don’t know there’s anything different out there.
So I always knew I wasn’t going to stay on drugs, but that didn’t mean I was really ready to come off them now.
Mom and Dad were going to send me here in January but I said I could quit on my own. But I didn’t quit. So one morning, early, they woke me up and said, “You’re going to treatment.” I refused. They said, “We’re your parents. We’re making you go.”
I’ve had a few little problems with the law. I was on probation already for theft. I took my mom’s car without asking her and my aunt called the cops. I also have driving without a license, break and enter, and I’ve gotten warnings for disturbing the peace, being intoxicated in public and trespassing.
The night I got the warnings I also got bottled. Someone threw a bottle at me during a fight. So I got a big bruise.
So, between my parents and the police, I was pretty much forced to come here. But it’s been mostly good, really good. I’ve learned a lot about myself and about my culture. I feel ready to leave old things behind and start a new life.
I’m still aiming for college or university. For sure I’ll take Native languages and Native studies. Beyond that I’m not sure. Maybe architecture.
The bottom line is that Native people are really amazing and strong and beautiful and can do a lot of things when they have something to believe in.
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