Through the Eyes of the Elders

CLARENCE FULTON SECONDARY

Through the Eyes of the Elders

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Copyright © 2015 SD22 Vernon and the Aboriginal Education Department

Printed in Canada by Met Fine Printers Inc.

artThe illustrations in this book are from a cottonwood dugout canoe carved by the late Gordie Marchand and completed with the family’s permission by Mervin Louis. Clarence Fulton Secondary, with assistance from the Aboriginal Education department, commissioned Okanagan artist David Wilson to paint both sides of the canoe. It took him three months. David has won several awards for his art, his most recent being the BC Achievement Award in Aboriginal Art. The canoe is 26 feet long and weighs 500 pounds.

photosWendy Morton and Ruby Alexis

graphic designRhonda Ganz | reganz.com

Through the Eyes of the EldersIn early 2015, the Clarence Fulton Secondary BC First Nations Studies 12 class was offered the opportunity to work with Wendy Morton and Sandra Lynxleg on the Elder Project. This is where Elders are invited to join students in the classroom and each student is given the opportunity to learn from the Elders through an interview process. Students ask each Elder questions and record the Elder’s answers. The answers are then crafted into a historical collage poem. All the poems are then compiled and published in a book which is made available to project participants and anyone else who wants to read the poems and learn through the life experiences of these Elders.

The Elder Project group within the BC First Nations Studies 12 class at Fulton decided to title this book Through the Eyes of the Elders. Students expressed that they liked learning through one-on-one discussions with Elders as opposed to paper and pen learning or from listening to a teacher give a lecture. Students liked learning through deeper personalized conversations tailored to their interests rather than through general classroom discussions. Students liked learning about what life was like when Elders were growing up.

LORI PHILLIP – BC FIRST NATIONS STUDIES 12 TEACHER – CL ARENCE FULTON SECONDARY

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Through the Eyes of the EldersLet’s begin with the significance of 10–12–14. These numbers represent the students in Lori’s BCFN12 class. On day one, ten students. On day two, twelve students. On the third and final day, fourteen students. Lori’s class was small in numbers but grew in attendance. We can surmise as to why. Was it because of the Elders? Because of the food? Because it was an inclusive environment? Because writing a poem with an Elder came naturally? Stop right here. Flip through the book. Read the poems. The answer to 10–12–14 is on each page. In each picture.

Through the Eyes of the Elders is our district’s third chapbook. It’s our first chapbook offered in a course open to all students. A course about the history of First Nations people in British Columbia. For some students, BCFN12 is their first social studies course dedicated to First Nations people and their history. For others, it’s their first classroom experience where the content reflects their family and nation’s history. For most, it was their first time sitting with an Elder and hearing the Elder speak of a residential school experience. We’ve learned a lot from these “firsts,” from our poems, from our time together.

chi miigwech (thank you) Lori for the opportunity to write poetry with you and your students.

SANDRA LYNN LYNXLEG DISTRICT PRINCIPAL, ABORIGINAL EDUCATION, SD22 VERNON

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My Lovely Friend Anne McBethA wonderful person to meet.

Daughter, wife, grandmother, great grandmother.Passionate and thankful.“Family is important to me.”

A word for her past: lonely.Money instead of “I love you.”Work: cooking, dishes at home,later, help in a restaurant.

Not much time for friends.Sixteenth birthday alone in a one room cabin.Space for herselfunder a willow tree.

Respect – a wordfor the Past, Present, and Future.

Raised by her grandmain Bearden, Arkansas.Now 69 years old.

Love, thankfulness and joymake their way throughher green shiny eyes.

JAMIE YOUNG – GERMANAnne McBeth – Métis

Memories are precious

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A Poem for Jamie YoungA new friend to add to life’s garden,which should be full of friends like you.

Wherever you are, it is your friendswho make your world.

How beautiful a day can bewhen kindness touches it.

With a new friend like a rose blooming.

ANNE MCBETH – MÉTIS Jamie Young – German

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Colleena May StrahlBorn in a Halifax apartment, 1959.Four of us lived in a space fit for one.A wood stove kept us warm enough.

Traditional knowledge was not practiced.There were always chores to do, which I learned to do well.I started working young,delivering papers and hauling water.

It wasn’t until my fourth school yearthat the nuns’ punishment changed for the better.Life was up and down.

I used to love playing in the buttercup fieldsand picking wild berries.Playing baseball, and pond hockey in the winter.

When I was twenty-six, I learned to make drums —a skill that would stick with me forever.I worked in the hospitality industry for 30 years.Today, I continue to learn about my heritage and culture.

My spirit animals are barn owl and mustang.

BEN TRACY – CANADIANColleena May Strahl – Mi'kmaq

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David Wilson – Okanagan

David WilsonVernon born, to Lloyd and Marie Wilson.Time was spent swimming,collecting flint and arrowheads—relics of a past life.I seek adventure through the land.Trees, for my father, are like his children, my mother said.

Patience. No memory. The forgotten sayingsof a loving family.

The arts are encouraging, uplifting.They showed me the way to the happiest moments.

DAD —From foundation to family, he built our house, our life.There’s much importance in him, a family of Chiefs—Pierre Louis 30 years.

He was quiet about the schools.You saw the hurt in his eyes,the scar the government tried to take back.He is patience; he is peace.

SCHOOL —Is lazy. It’s easy. The art I seekis yet to be found. Pictographs. A culturehidden from me was found.Beairsto was the keyto what I am. I am David Wilson.I am

OKANAGAN —

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David WilsonMy life’s journey began on a winter night,a half hour before the New Year of 1961.My father Lloyd Wilson spent his time as a carpenter.My mother Marie Saddleman jumped from job to job.I loved them both. They worked so much.

I spent my childhood raised by grandparentson a lakefront property I enjoyed wandering.An adventurous spirit led me to many places.One day my feet led me to a nice discovery—some flint and an arrowhead.

My family taught patience in all things.Raised in the town of my birth with three older sisters,I come from the largest reservation family, on my father’s side.

Many chiefs, meals of moose and deer.Never bear, no fish.

My grandfather taught me to respect allin a time when tradition was falling apart.

I found my happiness in the art I do.I found traditional art of my people,and I began to modernize it.Art is my passion. My family supports what I do.

Within life, I discover we are constantly learning.

JUSTICE GOTT – SHUSWAP David Wilson – Okanagan

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Don McBeth One of five brothers, born in 1934.Depression time. No work. Small house. Wood stove.Parents Harry and Doris.Attended Queen Elizabeth Elementary.Walked three miles to school every day.

Moved to BC in 1947.New school, new friends.Great-grandfather founded Prince Albert, Saskatchewan.Family made the Prince Albert Airport.Godfather, John Diefenbaker.

Had to start work. Got carpentry skills from father.Became a certified operating engineer in 1964.Taught strictly to respect his Elders.

Now a respected Elder.

JAYDEN MCMULLEN – CANADIAN NICOL AS BL AKE – CREE / AFRICAN AMERICAN

Don McBeth – Métis

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DON MCBETH – MÉTIS Jayden McMullen – Canadian

Nicolas Blake – Cree / African American

Poem for Nicolas and JaydenTwo young men learning as they go,looking forward to graduation.Their next plan in life is to learn a trade,mechanics is their goal in life.Apprenticeship is their next stepon their road to success.

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Madeline GregoireI was born in my grandfather’s old log house in Quilchena Creek mountains.Raised by my grandfather, grandmother, grand unclesand grand aunties.We lived with the culture: hunting, fishing, picking berries.But they came for us, me and my sister, when I turned five.We ran and hid in a bush like we were told.We thought they were gone for good.But they came back for us a couple days later.Threatened my family with prison.We had no choice.

Took us to the Kamloops Indian Residential Schoolin cattle trucks.

They cut my hair.They took my clothes.Tried to take my language.Tried to make me English.

We went home at the end of June.The Elders were ready for our return.They took us to a camp in the mountains.It took ten to fifteen days in the camp, talking and sweating.

My happiest memories were growing up in the culture:hunting, fishing, and picking berries.Speaking the language.

EDDIE GOODWATER – OKANAGANMadeline Gregoire – Okanagan

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Madeline GregoireI was born in Quilchena Creek.Grew up alongside nature in my grandfather’s log house.I lived there for five years. I was taught how to live off the land.Me, my sisters and brothers, hunted, fished, picked berries and learned how to trap.We loved singing, dancing and playing drums.

One day, an Indian Agent came to our log house.Me and my sister ran into the field, hid in the bushes like grandfather told us.They left, and came back a couple of days later and took us.They told my grandfather that if he didn’t give uphe would be put in jail.

When they brought me to the residential school they cut my hair, gave me a uniform.I was sick for almost a year.I was trapped in the school for seven years.Forced to learn English to forget my ways.They made us pray and attend Catholic church.

Finally, after seven years of pain, we were set free at the end of June,in cattle trucks.The roads were unpaved and shot dust.We were excited to return home to our parents.

It took Elders many days to remove the fear from us.

DYL AN BEAUCHAMP – ALGONQUINMadeline Gregoire – Okanagan

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Maureen Ziprick I was born in Kelowna, raised by parents and aunties.Sent to residential school.I remember going there and crying when I was dropped off.I remember trying to change my first name to Patricia.

I was lonely all the time.Scared all the time.Hungry all the time.The sandwiches were like dog meat.The nuns and brothers were mean.

I rarely got to see my parents.I love sports and I loved it when I got to go home in the summer.But I still didn’t see my parents because they were drinkin’.

I had four sisters and one brother.We would climb the apple trees when we were hungry.My dad used to hunt and fish.We would have family dinners with what he caught.

Some of the jobs I had were as a waitress, then a hairdresser, then I worked in daycare.Now I’m an Aboriginal Support Worker.

MATTIAS PAPKE – OKANAGAN / COAST SALISH CAMERON WILSON – OKANAGAN/SHUSWAP

Maureen Ziprick (née Simpson) – Okanagan

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Pat BlackBorn in Toronto.My childhood was safe with love and happiness,until my dad was gone.He was the main love of my life.He went to war for six years.

Raised in a white society,until my father told me that I was Mohawk.Started to do a lot of research,studied a lot about native people.I wanted to know my culture.

Christmas is an important time.We always discussed politics and history.I learned that nothing is more important than family.I love my children.

I’m going to be 80 in July.I have many dead friends and relatives.

I’ve learned that life is an adventure.Death is the last adventure.

THANAKRIT ARUNPHAISAN – THAIPat Black – Mohawk24 |

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GUR JIT JANDA – INDO CANADIAN Janet Gagne – Métis

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A Poem for Gurjit JandaBorn and raised in Vernon, a close knit family: parents, grandparents.Traditions from India:butter chicken with rice, Kulfi ice cream,celebrate Diwali.

Two younger sisters, an older brother—my idol.Grandfather won wrestling.Losing grandmother, heartbreaking.

Learned to be respectful, honest,live by the Golden Rule.

“Do not do drugs. It is your life, not mine.Be yourself. Work harder than you have to.Shoot for a higher level.It takes money to make money.”

Sage words from Elders.

JANET GAGNE – MÉTISGurjit Janda – Indo Canadian

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The Story of Sandra LynxlegI was born 1961 in Halifax, Nova Scotia.Raised by my mother, Irene Lynxlegand my father, John Doak.

My mother went to two residential schools: Fort Alexander and Le Bret.My father was in the Canadian Navy.

I learned to keep a house clean:beds with hospital corners,shoes lined up,coats on hangers.

I’ve lived in nearly every provincein every season:

SAVANNAH BABIY – MÉTISSandra Lynxleg – Ojibwe

Glace Bay in fall,Labrador in winter,Uranium City in summer,Vancouver in spring.

I wouldn’t change anything in the past,it made me who I am.I’ve gone full circle.Lessons above and below the horizon.

My Grandpa Lynxleg taught me, if you rise early, you live a longer life.

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William Gagne aka Blackie“Chickens today, feathers tomorrow,” words that repeat in my ears.I was born in Edmonton, Alberta.A place I learned to make my own butter and pick fresh apples.I have eight sisters and two brothers.Family that I love very much.They will always come first; my happiest memory.

I remember my childhood,remember sleeping in a sunroom,remember working hard,remember residential school…

They called me a bad boy, told me to kneel on rice,gave me a dunce hat.

I remember being in a foster home, battling cancer, recovering from a car accident.

Despite all the trials that come in the end, life is what you make of it.

I can make anything. I can sew. I can knit.I can bake. I can build cars.

Life is about treating others with respectand finding joy everywhere.

SABINA FINK – GERMANWilliam Gagne – Métis | 33

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AcknowledgmentsFor three days in March at Clarence Fulton Secondary School in Vernon, we created the magic of the 12th Elder Project. Lori Phillip’s BCFN12 class became the world: a student from Thailand interviewed a Mohawk Elder; a German student interviewed a Métis Elder; an Indo Canadian student interviewed a Métis Elder; an Alberta Plains Cree student and Shuswap student interviewed an Okanagan Elder. On the last day, some of the Elders wore traditional clothing and Anne McBeth brought bannock and homemade jam. William Gagne made an impossible pie.

What was possible was the joy in the room. The connections, the poems that make up this book. I would like to thank Sandra Lynxleg for believing that another Elder Project would benefit the students and the Elders. I would like to thank Lori Phillip, who opened her BC First Nations Studies 12 class to the joy of this Elder Project. I would also like to thank School District 22 for supporting this project.

I’d like to thank David Wilson for permission to use his paintings on the Fulton Canoe. And to Rhonda Ganz, for her lovely design of this book, many thanks.

Through the Eyes of the Elders