Looks Like Daylight

by Deborah Ellis

  Then later I was evacuated out to Stratford with my family. That’s in the southern part of Ontario. We didn’t choose where we went. The Band office made all the arrangements and that’s where they found that would accept us. We stayed in the arena. I slept in the curling rink on a mat on the floor. The town was really welcoming to us. A lady came and took some of us out to her farm for the day so we could enjoy her animals. A man from a nearby reserve came and showed us some First Nations medicines and gave us sweetgrass.

  We didn’t go to school while we were there. We just hung out. I went for walks around the town with my friends.

  I remember seeing Justin Bieber but he wasn’t so famous then. I was in an ice-cream shop trying to decide what to get. He was in the line behind me. I thought I was taking too long because I couldn’t make up my mind. I told him to go ahead of me. He was really nice. He said, “Go ahead, take your time, no problem.” I remembered him because he was so kind and then later I saw him on TV.

  I’d never been that far south before. I was born in Thunder Bay and I’d been to Timmins when my sister was born. Mostly I’ve been on the reserve.

  The south has a lot of rules and a lot of laws and a lot of noise.

  I prefer up north. It gets nice and cold in the winter. I can go snowshoeing and skidooing.

  We go winter camping too. We stay in tents. We have a woodstove in the tent that dies out at three in the morning. I have to get up and feed it so we don’t freeze.

  I go hunting geese with my father in the winter. We sit and wait and talk in quiet voices. We see the trees, the little birds chirping. We see little seals. I’ve caught three seals.

  I know about guns. I use a 20-gauge shotgun, which is bigger than a 12-gauge. It’s really big. I taught myself to shoot by first using a BB gun and aiming at cans.

  With geese you shoot fast and aim at the head. I’ve been shooting geese since I was six.

  I do most of the work. I learned when I was little how to pluck the goose, cut it open, take out the organs, cook it on the fire, chop the wood for the fire, go into the bush to find the wood — all of it. It’s a natural thing for young women to do. In the south, kids are not allowed to do anything except watch TV.

  I like being up north because I’m not lazy. I can be healthy. I’ll be able to tell my kids and grandkids about my adventures and show them how they can do the same things.

  Up north we eat food from the land and food that’s shipped in. I don’t eat a lot, just little amounts every day, enough to fuel me.

  I love helping the elders, chopping wood, cleaning their yards. It’s a sign of respect to do things for them. Whenever we go hunting we bring back geese for them. Or I can give them a ride, like a taxi, but without paying. I don’t have a driver’s license. No one on my reserve cares about that. I taught myself to drive. Some days I’ll borrow a relative’s truck and drive around looking for elders who need a ride.

  I taught myself how to draw as well. I like to draw Native art, things from nature. I get drawing tips from school, then I keep working on it until I get it right.

  I’m a writer as well. Whenever I’m bored and have nothing to do, I get a scrap of paper and write down what’s on my mind. I show these thoughts to my mom, but mostly I keep them private. I write poetry too. I just write down what my heart is saying and it comes out like a poem.

  I’m good at school. I was an honor student in grade six.

  In grade seven I missed a lot of school because I was always out in the wild. I still go when I can. Sometimes to hunt, sometimes to just be there.

  I go alone into the bush. I have this place I’ve been to a lot with my grandfather. When we go together we just sit and talk. When I go alone the animals come up to me. I sit very still so they’re not afraid. They think I’m just part of the forest. I bring food for them. Squirrels, raccoons, fox. I feed them and talk to them.

  This place is our land. There are beautiful trees around me. Me and Grampa built benches using just wood, without nails. He taught me to make fire without matches or lighters, using rocks to make sparks on grass and adding wood slowly. It’s all about taking time and not rushing things when you’re in the wild.

  When I’m out in the bush by myself I have no worries. I know I can care for myself. I can find meat and cook it. Sometimes I don’t even bother to cook it. I just eat it raw. If I don’t hunt I’ll take meat from home — bear, moose, caribou, deer, beaver. It’s all healthier to eat raw.

  My parents are both from the north and they had a good experience of school. But my grandparents went to residential school and it was not good. They got hit when they spoke their language. The nuns told them to wash their faces with Javex bleach because their skin was dark. My grandparents were taken far away from their families when they were four and didn’t get back home again until they were eighteen. They couldn’t go home to visit. They simply lost their parents and their parents lost them.

  But my grandparents were smart. They didn’t listen to the nuns. They kept speaking their language when the nuns and priests weren’t around. They weren’t brainwashed.

  My grandfather is a windtalker. He prays and speaks to the wind and gets answers. He goes out with a hand drum when it is very windy and sings.

  When I’m older I’m going to be a Sun dancer. That’s a Cree person who dances for three days without eating or drinking. You dance this in the wild, when the sun is bright orange in the evening. I’m already a Fancy Shawl dancer and I can sing with a hand drum in my first language.

  I’m a youth counselor on my reserve. I work with kids ages ten to twelve. We do all kinds of activities, share stories, do things to keep them busy. They come to me for advice sometimes. I tell them that we may struggle, but all they need to do is to make the right choices.

  I plan to stay in school, get a job, travel and see the world. You can meet different people that way, share your stories and make friends.

  I’m thinking of going into police work. On my reserve, the police are lazy. If I become a police officer I’ll never use a car. I’ll walk around and know what’s going on and people will know that they can trust me.

  What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the winter time. It is as the little shadow that runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.

  — Crowfoot, Blackfoot Confederacy

  Myleka, 13, and

  Tulane, 14

  The Navajo Nation is the largest Indigenous nation in the United States, both in land size and in population. It takes in parts of Arizona, Utah and New Mexico and has 250,000 citizens.

  But Navajo history has been marked by painful and traumatic events. During the 1860s, the US Army waged war on the Navajo by destroying their livestock and crops, driving the people to starvation. In 1864, large numbers of Navajo were forced marched hundreds of miles from their traditional territories to Bosque Redondo in New Mexico, in what is known as the Long Walk. Many died.

  In 1930, a US Senate committee admitted that churches were kidnapping Navajo children and forcing them into boarding schools — the churches received more government money if they had more children. Then, in 1951, huge deposits of uranium were discovered under Navajo land. The government employed Navajo miners but did not give them protective gear and proper ventilation. The water the miners were given to drink was radioactive. When they got sick from radiation, they were fired. High rates of lung cancer among former miners and their families were due to these practices. The mine companies left huge piles of radioactive waste on the reservation, going bankrupt as soon as they were told to clean it up.

  Yet the Navajo culture thrives today. Navajo arts are known worldwide. Blankets, pottery, rugs, jewelry and sand paintings are traditionally made using the natural materials found in the desert and mountains.

  Tulane and Myleka live in Kayenta, Arizona, on the Navajo reservation. They are
part of a new generation of artists.

  Myleka

  My brother and I were chosen to create artwork for the poster for the 90th annual Santa Fe Indian Market. Every August, a thousand or so Native artists gather to show and sell their work. It’s amazing. Thousands and thousands of people come to it. They have never had young artists create the poster before. My brother and I were the first.

  We had to submit our work to some judges. We submitted five pieces each, and the judges chose both of us! Tulane’s piece is a mask made out of Legos. Mine had four circles in it, one on top of the other. They both have colors from the earth and sky, and they go really well together.

  My design came to me in a vision when I did my Kinaaldá. This is a ceremony Navajo girls do to mark our coming of age, becoming women. It goes on for days. I went through it when I turned twelve. You get up very early, before the sun. You sing at night, grind corn, do prayers and ceremonies. It’s a very sacred, special thing. It helps you grow into a strong woman. My mother went through it. My grandmother too, and probably her mother and grandmother way back through the generations. You do it so the gods can know you. You do it because you are Navajo.

  At the end of my ceremony I was told I would receive something from the Creator, and I received the vision of the circles. I felt really honored.

  Artwork for the Santa Fe

  Indian Market poster

  I come from a family of artists. My father, Alvin John, is a very famous artist, and he and my mother, Iverna Parrish-John, got us started. They didn’t push us, but art supplies were always around when we were growing up. I think we are all born with the love of making art, but most people tell themselves that art is a childhood thing, not something to do when they get older. When really it’s something people can love doing all their lives even if they have some other job they do that brings in money.

  My dad does amazing work. He paints, he sculpts with steel, he did this big mural near the Navajo transportation headquarters. He’s really well respected. My uncle is also an artist. His name is Melvin L. John and my Uncle David has an art gallery in Santa Fe. We learn from all of them, but we also go our own way.

  My mother works as a lab technician at the health clinic here on the reservation. We used to live in Phoenix, but we moved here not long ago because she got that job.

  It was a big change moving here from Phoenix, and sometimes I miss the city, but overall living here is a good experience. It’s different from what most kids get to experience, so I’m lucky. Plus, it’s beautiful! It is SO beautiful! There’s lots of natural light and not a lot of noise.

  I’m attending Kayenta Middle School. I’m on the basketball team — the KMS Colts. The other students know about the art that I do, and they think it’s interesting. Even the teachers ask me how I do things in art. In college I think I’ll study design. I’d like to design clothes as part of my career. Or maybe be a nurse.

  I’d love it if other people would keep doing art all through their lives, even if they don’t think they’re good at it. Art helps you to see things.

  Tulane

  I just started high school at Monument Valley High, and I like it. I play basketball, football and do track. I’m with my own people. It’s a Navajo high school, so I’m with other Navajo kids. I’ve been to mixed schools, and I like this better. I guess it’s better because we’re with our own people. There’s things we just understand. We don’t have to be explaining all the time.

  My father’s parents didn’t get to go to school. My grandfather was a railroad worker for thirty years. He did sandpainting as a spiritual practice and a cultural expression. My grandmother spoke only Navajo. She did traditional weaving and took care of the family. Because of that she was cut off from attending school. My great-grandfather was a blacksmith and a medicine man. He worked with his hands and was very traditional. My father says they were gifted both traditionally and spiritually. I wish I could have met them. Where my grandparents came from, there’s still no running water and the community only just got electricity.

  I like school. My parents also liked school. My mother’s parents did not have a good experience of school. They were sent to a Christian boarding school where they were told they were only allowed to speak English. The only language they knew when they went in was Navajo, and they got beaten for speaking it. So you can imagine, it was not good.

  My art inspiration comes from a lot of places. When I was a kid I loved cartoons and comics and playing with Legos. My folks took me to Legoland and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! All the possibilities! So now I use a lot of Legos in my paintings, and I bring them into traditional symbols.

  For the Santa Fe art show poster I did a painting in acrylics and Legos. I did a Yébîchai head made of Legos on canvas. I’ve done several pieces like that. I found out that some people from the Lego corporation wanted to buy one of my pieces, but a Navajo family wanted it more, so they got it.

  My sister is really talented. She uses all sorts of materials in her art too. She’s made Navajo dolls out of felt and tinfoil. She does sand paintings of yé’iis. She’s won all sorts of awards. We both have. The good thing about awards is that they open up more opportunities to learn and to create in new ways.

  The Santa Fe festival was amazing. It is so big! All kinds of nations were there — Navajo, Cherokee, Shoshone, Penobscot, Ojibwe, Pueblo. So many! Baskets, dolls, paintings, jewelry, clothing, ceremonial pieces, modern sculpture. There were films, there was food. It was hard to take it all in. I had so much fun! I spent a lot of time in our booth watching people look at our art, talking with people. People wanted to take pictures of us and have us sign their posters. I know that art isn’t about that kind of thing and that’s not why I want to keep doing it, but I had a great time.

  I love living on the reservation. We live right by Monument Valley. It’s breathtaking. It’s a famous place because a lot of Western movies were shot there. And we get to see it every day.

  I’d like to study architecture at university — maybe at Stanford or the University of Kentucky. And of course I’ll keep learning about art.

  My parents stress how important it is for us to learn traditional values like respect for our elders. Native people used to be told they had to forget who they were and what they knew. Like my grandparents being told they had to forget their language. That time is over. We are remembering all that wisdom and learning from it and building on it.

  There are a lot of ways to get distracted from who we really are. Art helps us find our way back.

  Valene, 18

  In the 1960s, it became common practice for the Canadian government to “scoop” Indigenous children from their homes and put them into the care of the state. This became known as the Sixties Scoop.

  Although the official government policies that led to the Sixties Scoop are over, it’s hard to tell. The number of Indigenous children in care is higher than it ever was.

  In Ontario, First Nations children make up 2 percent of the population of children, but make up 10 percent of the children in care. In South Dakota, Native kids are 15 percent of the population, but make up 52 percent of the kids in care. In Alberta, 70 percent of the children in care are Indigenous, 55 percent in Alaska and 84 percent in Manitoba.

  Many children are removed from homes affected by poverty or substance abuse, instead of providing families with the support and resources to raise their incomes or heal from addictions so that children can stay with their parents. Often poor housing is used as an excuse to take the kids. Many northern First Nations communities struggle in homes that are extremely crowded, have no indoor plumbing and are contaminated by mold. The children are taken instead of the homes being made safe.

  Being taken into foster care is no guarantee of a better life for an Indigenous child. In six months of 2011 in Alberta alone, four Aboriginal kids died in foster care.

  A
class-action lawsuit is trying to hold the Canadian government accountable for the way First Nations children were damaged during the Sixties Scoop. The Indian Child Welfare Act in the United States gives tribes legal authority to have a voice in what happens to the children in their communities, although they don’t always have the resources to be able to properly use that authority. And attention is being paid to keeping better records to make it easier for children who are taken to one day be able to find their way back home.

  I’ve lived in the North Bay area since I was seven. Before that I lived in Moosonee on the shore of James Bay. My parents liked to move a lot. I am Cree.

  I don’t live with my parents now. My father is in North Bay. My mother moved to Kapuskasing.

  The chaos started when I was five. I don’t know exactly what went on. I remember my parents fighting a lot. My little sister Raya had just been born and I’d take care of her a lot, rocking her and protecting her when the fighting got bad.

  We got put in our first foster home, but it was not a good place. One of the adults was a pervert. He did things to me that I didn’t understand, and when I asked my mom about it, she complained to Children’s Aid. He got caught and we got moved to a new foster home.

  Mom and Dad got themselves straightened out, got us back and moved us back up to Moosonee for a while. My little brother was born there. Then we moved back to North Bay, and my little sister Kiyana was born.

  My parents started fighting again. All my siblings would hide in my room. I was scared too, but I tried not to show it. I gave them games to keep their minds off the yelling and crashing. One time my mother made me run out into the street to find the cops because my dad was out of control.

  We got sent to another foster home in another town, then got split up into different foster homes in North Bay.