I thought this a good article to tie in with Social Studies 10-1/-2:
http://www.msn.com/en-ca/news/canada/aboriginals-a-growing-force-in-federal-politics/ar-AAf320X?ocid=spartandhp
I am pasting it below because news articles seem to disappear far too often!
Aboriginals a growing force in federal politics
Paul Martin had just rattled off an impassioned, combative speech
before the Assembly of First Nations in July, and the audience
members quickly rose to their feet.
The former prime minister hammered the Conservative government’s
funding caps on aboriginal education, calling the trend “contrary
to every value Canada stands for.” Martin’s fiery keynote speech
closed the AFN’s annual general assembly — a three-day meeting
that centred on a campaign to get indigenous people voting in this
year’s federal election.
It struck a chord with many of the national chiefs, who
showered him with applause as he walked off the stage at Montreal’s
Place Bonaventure.
But there was at least one holdout in the crowd who refused to
stand and cheer Martin: Joe Norton.
It didn’t matter that Norton, the long-serving Kahnawake Mohawk
chief, was an old friend of Martin, or that he agreed with the
substance of his speech. Nor did it matter that the two leaders would
embrace moments later, playfully slapping each other’s arms in the
middle of a packed ballroom.
Joe Norton will not stand at attention for the former prime
minister of Canada.
“(Martin) is a longtime friend of mine, we go way back and I
have a lot of respect for him and what he’s trying to do for First
Nations,” Norton told the Montreal Gazette. “But he’s someone
who represents something I cannot, in good conscience, participate
in.”
This is Norton’s quiet act of protest against a government
he says encroaches on indigenous sovereignty. It is Norton’s way of
declaring that the people of Kahnawake are not subject to the Crown.
The gesture speaks to the basic political reality of the Mohawk
Nation: even in an election campaign that could drastically alter the
relationship between Canada and its First Peoples, the Mohawks say
they will not vote.
Though the Mohawks are bound to the Two Row Wampum — a centuries
old treaty that affirms their nationhood and forbids them from
participating in outside politics — they are hardly the only
indigenous people who elect not to vote. Only 44 per cent of
eligible voters on reserves across the country cast their ballots in
the 2011 federal election. Meanwhile about 61 per cent of
non-indigenous Canadians voted that year, according to Elections
Canada.
But that could change.
Indigenous people are the fastest-growing segment of the Canadian
population, and community leaders believe that young, increasingly
urban and politicized aboriginals will have their voices heard
in Ottawa this year.
This summer, the AFN launched a campaign targeting 51 key ridings
in which aboriginal ballots could swing the national vote
against the ruling Conservative Party.
A powerful voice in 51 ridings
After relations between the federal Conservatives
and the Assembly of First Nations broke down last year, the
lobby group launched a campaign targeting 51 key ridings in which the
voices of aboriginal voters could help bring about a change in
government. The AFN is just one of the organizations urging Canada’s
First Nations to participate in the Oct. 19 federal election.
The last meaningful attempt at cooperation between the aboriginal
lobby group and Tories ended in 2014 with a proposed $1.9-billion
education bill to fund on-reserve schooling. A few
months after AFN National Chief Shawn Atleo and Prime Minister
Stephen Harper struck the deal, it fell apart amid claims that
First Nations consultation over the bill was limited and that funding
fell way short of what’s needed to give indigenous students the
resources that the rest of Canadian children have. Atleo ultimately
stepped down amid calls, from within the AFN, for him to resign over
his handling of the file.
Now, National Chief Perry Bellegarde — Atleo’s replacement —
says he’ll do something he’s never done before: vote in a federal
election. Bellegarde is urging all First Nations peoples to do the
same.
For non-indigenous Canadians, October will mark the nation’s
42nd federal election, but that isn’t the case for aboriginals.
Before 1960 — when Prime Minister John Diefenbaker’s government
granted First Nations unconditional franchise — the only way an
indigenous person could vote in federal elections was by giving up
their treaty rights.
This fall will only be the 18th federal election in which First
Nations people have the right to vote — and many consider it the
first election to substantively address issues that affect the 1.4
million indigenous Canadians.
***
There is another story that oddly mirrors the Paul Martin, Joe
Norton anecdote.
This time, however, it was Justice Murray Sinclair standing at the
lectern last June, presenting the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission’s final report to a room full of white politicians in
Ottawa. Sinclair, who headed the commission, spoke of the
harrowing abuse related to him by the survivors of Canada’s
residential schools, but added that he remains hopeful that the
country can heal its colonialist wounds.
The Ojibway judge got his biggest ovation when he announced
that the report calls for a public inquiry into the alarming
frequency of missing and murdered aboriginal women. The crowd
erupted in applause and Sinclair paused for a few moments to let
the noise subside. There was, once again, at least one notable
holdout: Bernard Valcourt, minister of Aboriginal Affairs and
Northern Development.
Perhaps more than any other moment over the last decade,
Valcourt’s decision to sit in protest speaks to the increasingly
dysfunctional relationship between the governing Conservatives and
First Nations. The Tories will not heed Sinclair’s call for an
inquiry and won’t implement many of the other 93 recommendations of
the TRC’s report.
The Harper government has repeatedly dismissed the idea that
Canada’s missing and murdered indigenous women represent a
sociological phenomenon, and it has held firm on this point in
the face of unrelenting criticism from First Nations. All of Canada’s
other major political parties, including the premiers of its 10
provinces, oppose the Conservatives on this front.
With each passing story of a young indigenous woman’s body found
along the side of a river or in a pile of garbage, calls for the
inquiry have grown and this, to many aboriginals, is the issue
drawing them into the national debate. An inquiry will certainly not
bring back the 1,213 aboriginal women who were killed or went missing
over the last 25 years, but advocates say it would humanize the
victims and force Canadians to confront some of the endemic
problems First Nations face.
“There’s no doubt the need for an inquiry is one of the things
that really pushed me to get involved,” said Tanya Lalonde, who
works with the Liberal Party’s Aboriginal Peoples Commission, a
political outreach group. “You hear about the way these women die
and you want to know why it happens so often and you want it to stop.
… You want politicians to hear the families of these women, to
listen to these families and take action.”
Lalonde’s experience speaks to a possible shift in Canadian
politics. Before she became the head of the Quebec branch of the APC
in 2013, the position had been vacant for about 20 years. One former
Liberal adviser said that courting the aboriginal vote was seen,
by politicians of every stripe, as something of a fool’s errand
given that they represent such a low percentage of the electorate
(and one that doesn’t tend to vote in large numbers). But things
seems different now.
A lot of Lalonde’s outreach work involves building bridges
between her party and Montreal’s growing aboriginal community.
“Before getting involved (with the Liberals), I did some
thinking and I decided that there needed to be someone at the table
bringing an indigenous perspective,” said Lalonde. “A lot of the
candidates care about the issues, but they don’t necessarily know a
lot about them. My job is to give them context.”
Like about 60 per cent of Canada’s indigenous
population, Lalonde does not live on a reserve. The 34-year-old
hails from a remote Métis settlement in Alberta, and came to
Montreal to pursue a degree in social work at McGill University.
Although the missing and murdered file is close to her heart,
Lalonde’s life story reveals a variety of issues that
affect Canada’s indigenous population.
Lalonde grew up poor, in a crowded house without running water,
but she says there were happy moments in her childhood. She lived a
sort of traditional life: her grandfather was a trapper, a hunter and
fisherman and, in those days, Lalonde experienced a deep connection
to the land and her culture.
“But I also saw what poverty does to people … when I was a kid
I was taken away, apprehended, and I spent the rest of my life in the
child welfare system,” Lalonde said. “I lived in a series of
foster families, they were loving families but they weren’t
indigenous families. So I lost that connection to who I was, and
that’s something a lot of children go through.
“I have a sister who is two years older than me who went through
this with me. She got pregnant at a young age, she became addicted
for a very long time. I was lucky, I got to reconnect to my culture
when I was a teenager, I went to powwows and (sweat lodges) and met
with elders and that saved me from going down another path.”
Studies suggest there are more aboriginal children removed from
their families today than there were at the height of Canada’s
residential school program. In the TRC’s final report, Sinclair
referred to the trend as a continuation of the assimilationist
policies of Canada’s past.
“A lot of the research shows that the reason so many indigenous
children are taken away isn’t something like abuse — it’s
poverty that gets marked as neglect,” Lalonde said. “Families who
don’t have enough money to cover the basic necessities for their
children, rather than get help from the system, they’re punished by
the system and their children are taken away.”
Lalonde says her own experience shows that First Nations people
can succeed inside the nation’s political system instead of apart
from it.
***
A few weeks ago, Wab Kinew waded across the Lake of the Woods
shoreline in Northern Ontario, hand-picking wild rice from the brisk
water.
Later this fall, he will head into the bush to hunt water fowl
with his two sons. Like many other Anishnaabe, Kinew fasts in
the summer, partakes in the sun dance and sweat lodges, he speaks
Ojibway and observes the rituals that keep his culture alive.
Kinew has been a hereditary Ojibway chief since he was 22, in
a political sphere that — at least on the surface — feels miles
away from the pomp and ceremony of Westminster-style democracy.
But come Oct. 19, none of this will stop Kinew from casting his
ballot.
“There’s an argument that you’re sacrificing some part of
yourself, some part of your indigenous identity by participating in
federal or municipal or provincial elections,” says Kinew, a
journalist, author and the University of Manitoba’s director of
indigenous inclusion. “But I disagree. I voted in every election
since I turned 18. I voted in First Nations elections, civic
elections, provincial elections and federal elections.
“And I noticed, along the way, I never spoke less Ojibway after
I voted. I didn’t feel any of my treaty rights or aboriginal rights
impacted after I voted. I didn’t feel as though the sovereignty of
my community was, in any way, impeded. I don’t buy that argument. …
It’s like, yes, I’m status (Indian) but I also live in the city,
my kids go to public school in Manitoba — so why wouldn’t I
participate in the election?”
While there’s certainly a philosophical concern over elections
and indigenous identity, one of the biggest roadblocks preventing
aboriginals from getting to the polls is the actual voting process
itself. It was once possible for aboriginals to vote using their
Status Cards — a form of government-issued identification — but a
federal bill passed in 2014 requires additional proof of
identification and residence.
While critics of the government say this was a tactic aimed at
disenfranchising indigenous voters, it may have had an opposite
effect.
“In my home community of Onigaming, you’re seeing voter
registration drives where people are going to the band office,
getting their proof of residency straightened out so they’ll
be eligible to vote,” said Kinew. “I’ve seen get-out-the-vote
campaigns before, but never with this kind of a grassroots feel to
it.”
Meanwhile, groups like Indigenous Rock the Vote have held a series
of monthly voter identification clinics in Winnipeg and online to
ensure that young aboriginal people are registered to vote in their
ridings. The non-partisan group played a factor in Winnipeg’s
municipal election last year, when the city elected Métis Mayor
Brian Bowman, and also saw Cree candidate Robert Falcon
Ouellette place third with 16 per cent of the vote.
“In some of the isolated, fly-in communities in my riding, we’ve
got people calling us and saying, ‘How do I get the vote out in
Fort Albany or Kashechewan? I’ve never done this, how do we do it?’
” said Charlie Angus, the NDP candidate in Ontario’s Timmins—James
Bay riding. “We’re seeing, in my region … communities
that are doing the work of showing what you need to do to vote.
That’s certainly an unprecedented move, and we’re seeing that in
ridings across the country.”
Social media is also playing a role in the campaign, according to
Angus and Kinew. As with the 2012 Idle no More protest movement,
young aboriginal people are bypassing traditional media and
connecting with each other directly through Facebook and Twitter.
Still, there are people who cannot reconcile their independence as
First Nations with the act of voting for what they consider to be a
foreign government occupying unceded indigenous territory.
The Two Row Wampum is an important reminder of this principle. The
wampum belt treaty — which the Mohawks presented to Dutch settlers
in the 17th century in what is now upstate New York — has two lines
that run across it to symbolize both nations travelling side-by-side
down the river of life.
“We don’t step into their boat and they don’t set foot in
ours,” said Norton. “We’ve always been allies, not subjects, of
the colonialists. We fought alongside Canada, defended Canada against
the United States in the War of 1812. And we’re proud of our
history.”
“But the Two Row Wampum was meant to go on forever. That’s
why, when you look at a replica of it, you see strings on the end of
it so you can keep adding to the belt as years go by. So we don’t
vote, not now, not ever.”
***
The relationship between the Harper government and Canada’s
indigenous people hasn’t always been fractured. The prime minister
made the unprecedented gesture, in 2008, of apologizing on behalf of
the government for its role in Canada’s residential school system.
During a ceremony at the House of Commons, Harper offered a
heartfelt, eloquent apology, admitting that for years, the
government’s goal had been to forcefully remove aboriginal children
from their homes and “kill the Indian” inside them. Harper even
delivered part of the speech in Ojibway, Cree and Inuktitut.
“You have been working on recovering from this experience for a
long time and in a very real sense, we are now joining you on this
journey,” he said, before an audience of survivors.
Even Angus, who rarely passes up an opportunity to criticize the
Tory leader, calls Harper’s apology a high moment in Canadian
Parliamentary history. But to Kinew — whose father was beaten and
sexually abused during his years in residential school — the beauty
of that apology did not translate into meaningful action.
Those who “who want to get on with the business of
reconciliation,” says Kinew, “have been disappointed that, while
the apology was made by this government and a lot of the rhetoric is
what people want to hear, the actual policy proposals and funding
priorities are not there.”
The Montreal Gazette’s emails to the Conservative government
seeking comment for this article were not returned.
Seven years after Harper vowed to accompany First Nations down the
path of reconciliation, the gap between the quality of life on
Canada’s reserves and in its cities remains significant. On-reserve
schools are underfunded, studies suggest
40
per cent of aboriginal children live in poverty and a
recently-released Senate report found that the housing crisis
afflicting reserves may be worse than previously thought — it could
take the immediate construction of up to 85,000 houses,
the
report says, to accommodate Canada’s surging
aboriginal population.
And so there may also be a natural skepticism about what any
political party could do to improve the lot of a young, energized
population that doesn’t have access to the same resources as their
non-indigenous counterparts. Many First Nations people will be poor
and feel alienated from the mainstream Canadian experience when the
polls open on Oct. 19, and they’ll still be poor and marginalized
after a new government is elected on Oct. 20.
There is still hope at a better future, says Kinew, but it has to
start at the voting booth — and it won’t happen overnight.
“It’s a long-term investment in building political capital for
our communities,” he says. “We want action on the issues that
face indigenous people. Well, part of the way you get action from
politicians is you vote in sufficient numbers that they realize you
vote; and then you talk to them during their time in office and
during the election campaigns. Over time, as politicians realize the
indigenous people are a significant electoral force, they’ll meet
with us and make pitches to us based on what they think will earn our
votes.”
ccurtis@montrealgazette.com
Twitter.com/titocurtis