4/26/10

Writing - Generations and generations.

Part of an essay I might submit for this:

Mixed-Race Women Speak Out.

http://adebe.wordpress.com/2010/02/08/other-tongues-mixed-race-women-speak-out-open-call-for-submissions/


It wasn't that long ago when a friend of mine told me the average age of Aboriginal people is around the age of 27: At first I didn't believe it.  It was my understanding that the baby-boomer (adults born following the end of World War II) generation had been outnumbering the rest of us for quite some time. Suddenly I am part of a growing population of people that is gaining an increasing amount of presence in today's society. In 2006, a national statistics survey took place in order to capture as much information about Aboriginal people (where we live, where we work, what our families are like) as possible to gain a better understanding of our current realities. This compiled data has shown that 48% of the Aboriginal population is under the age of 25 (http://www.cbc.ca/canada/story/2008/01/15/aboriginal-stats.html).


So I think about our growing youth populations, I hear devastating statistics about Aboriginal Youth suicide rates (the leading cause of death among Aboriginal people under 44 years old http://www.heretohelp.bc.ca/publications/factsheets/aboriginal), the amount of young people engaging in un-protected sex and drug-abuse, the young age of pregnant aboriginal women. I think about my cousins a lot, they are currently all under the age of 20 and most of them are in high school except for the youngest who will be entering grade five next year.


I get worried.


First, I want to say that I’ve met, worked, and laughed with many inspiring Aboriginal youth. Youth who are dedicated in building a better future for their peers, friends, cousins, brothers and sisters. Youth that have outstanding resiliency skills, prove a growing sense of confidence and passion towards learning every piece of traditional, culture and history that they can. Aboriginal Youth that know that something is not right in our contemporary society, that there needs to be changes in order for our families, communities and nations to thrive. 


Today’s world is not creating healthy people, whether you are from Aboriginal background or not, mental health is an issue for many youth in this country. According to Here to Help, 1 in 7 kids in BC have at least one mental illness (140,000 children and teens http://www.heretohelp.bc.ca/publications/factsheets/parents-kids-mi )


If half of our Aboriginal population is under the age of 25, and that on a whole, our communities are stricken with suicide rates, depression, all forms of abuse and other crippling social issues then that means our new and growing future is incredibly at-risk. 


Huh. 


Here’s what I believe, there’s a growing understanding that culture, history, tradition, and supportive inter-generational communication has positive impacts on Aboriginal youth, children and families. By inter-generational communication, I mean conversations, talks, and questions you can ask adults from all ages. Many of our current school systems are not providing Aboriginal children with the education they need to learn more about their history: current Aboriginal governments, our unique nations and traditions and finally, contemporary Aboriginal artists and writers who speak of the past and future. This is the content that provides Aboriginal children with a good foundation to help them know who they are and where they came from. Many of the resources and history components being used in our school systems are not written by Aboriginal people (I’ve  joked to my cousins, I wonder whether they would teach a european history textbook that was written by an Aboriginal person?). It is important that in addition to the many history books written by understanding non-native folks like Dee Brown (Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee) or J.R. Miller (Shingwauk’s Vision: History of Residential Schools in Canada) are supplemented by knowledgeable educators that step forward from our Aboriginal communities. 


Let’s try and remember a time before residential schools. Although formal schools systems may not have existed within our nations, our traditional cultures were a place of learning, history and oral storytelling. Our communities were built around family structures that ensured children had a space to learn, make mistakes, connect with parents, relatives and elders and most importantly, to be themselves. Children were watched over by everyone in their community; they were taught lessons, histories and entertained by stories. Only several weeks ago did I realize that my entire life, I have been telling friends, employers and teachers that I learn better from described examples when really I meant from storytelling.


There’s an important part of this community based education. We were known to protect our children from harm; keeping our children and youth within a place that was safe and closely-knit. Until residential schools came into the picture and legally had the right to extract children from their communities, families, nations and futures. 


I’ve always believed that the worst part about Aboriginal Residential schools was that they caused the breakdown of our family structures: a crucial aspect of our spirit and purpose. 


We know the challenges. Everything from young mothers from low-income environments, young people escaping abuse, parents with substance-abuse problems, best friends that have committed suicide. But we are surviving. We are growing. We are already a certain future. 


The most important job you will ever do in your life is to ensure the children of your community is protected, encouraged and supported. If it seems like an over-whelming job, that’s because, it is. So let’s narrow our focus, let’s make this more reasonable. Let’s not feel over-whelmed before getting started. 


Start with your family. 


Some of us in the 25 and under age demographic of Aboriginal people are preparing for families of our own or they may have already begun. We have the opportunity to raise families that will become our future. We need to ensure our families are strong and built by healthy and nurturing aunties, uncles, mothers, fathers, grandparents, elders, best-friends, cousins, sisters and brothers; this includes Aboriginal children in care who need extra support and love from our communities. Let’s build homes that infuse learning, storytelling and a supportive foundation for our children. Remember, families create homes and home is not just a physical place, it's a feeling. If you work at creating a healthy family, you will feel the support of your family structure throughout your entire life. 


There will be some young people that were raised in foster-care, and there will be other young parents that cannot turn to relatives for help. But let’s re-define what a family can be.  We need to create groups of young adults who are reliable, who care about children, who want to create connections amongst other nurturing adults and elders so that we might provide spaces for our children to grow and thrive. 


As Aboriginal youth, we need to develop our ability to empathize with one another: our parents, our elders, ourselves. On a whole, we need to develop the best nurturing skills; skills that you may have seen in an adult figure in your life at some point, skills that were the social-norm in our Aboriginal communities hundreds of years ago. We need to learn how to talk, to pull each other up together; we have to be the strongest people that our past has ever seen. We have to be strong because we have to fight for the most important people we will ever meet: our future generation, our children. 

2 what>!?!:

  1. reading this hurts a bit, i grew up in a family where i don't even remember the age where i realized that i am aboriginal. i spent most of my time with my mothers side of the family and less with my father. most of my dads family lives in ontario so learning about my culture was hard and subsequently never done.

    i remember rejecting my aboriginal heritage in middle school where i was constantly ridiculed so i refused to go to the aboriginal club [we had a club in our school, did you?]

    i never learned anything from going there anyway and it had less to do with my algonquin heritage than it had to do with cree heritage as everyone in this club was cree and i was not. i felt really lost and just gave up.

    i remember my sister went through a naming ceremony and my grandmother gave her a name and i refused to take part because i was ashamed.

    after all these years i want to understand my heritage, where i came from but i am running out of people to ask. i hope no one else has to go through the shame i did growing up.

    this article may help, it's beautiful and important for people from all walks of life to know where they came from and this may help.

    thank you <3

    ReplyDelete
  2. i think understanding aboriginal identity is really tough for young people. it's only been a year where i feel like i have a solid understanding of myself and how my cultural background becomes a part of that. i used to feel embarrassed about some of the thoughts i had about aboriginal communities and what kind of change i thought needed to happen. i over-simplified stuff because i didn't know better. but i think whether someone has rejected aspects of their culture, or had conflicting ideas about it, that's still a part of this generation's contemporary aboriginal identity. it's the aftermath of a lot of subsequent racism that's occurred through government policy. it's a reality. and lots of people go through the same shame feeling. but i believe it doesn't have to be so stressful, shaming, guilt-inducing, etc if there was more support and care involved.

    for me, in highschool, i didn't want to attend aboriginal club either. i wanted to learn about aboriginal government and specific things about my own nation that i was too scared to ask my parents about. i didn't know about residential school until i was 17. i didn't know there were contemporary native writers until i was 19, i felt so stupid for not realizing. but now, i mostly feel irritated at the ministry of education. how difficult would it be to include one Native poet or author in the english component of highschool? i was a smart person, how could i have graduated but still be so ignorant?

    your relatives are probably still alive. mine are too. it's super awkward to sometimes make the effort for that first email/phonecall but i recommend at least trying. even if it's just an ice-breaker email. i know for my family, when i started talking more about native-ness suddenly everyone started being way more talkative about our past. it was almost like, they were just waiting for someone to finally show some genuine interest before they opened up whole-heartedly. it was such a relief but it took some time, lots of conversations and real honesty. but it's one of the most worthwhile things i've ever tried to do.
    xoxo

    ReplyDelete