Indianized

I posted about these pressing issues a few weeks back, and it’s disheartening to see that there was no response. It feels like the struggles we face often go unheard. 


For those of us off reserve, it seems that we’re expected to navigate the same COVID-19 survival funds as everyone else. Some folks automatically receive top-ups, while others must go through the application process. But life on reserve is a different story altogether. The lack of services is glaring, and it often feels like our needs are overlooked.


On reserve, many of the funds intended to help keep families safe at home have been largely retained by the band council, leaving little for those who are truly in need. There are no services for food delivery, and the available food programs are often insufficient, with the same soup kitchens that were already in place not operating every day.


My mother, like many others on the reserve, has been struggling to get by. Businesses on reserves often operate without licenses, which means there’s no access to Employment Insurance (EI) coverage. With the bands restricting work opportunities, and often refusing Social Assistance if they suspect someone is making money through self-employment, people are caught in a difficult position. 


Those who try to carve, cook, or engage in self-employed work can find themselves in danger of starving because of the oppressive oversight from Indian Agents and the systemic racism embedded in our systems. It’s a vicious cycle that leaves our communities vulnerable and in need of support, yet we are often met with barriers instead of assistance. 

Popular posts from this blog

Bear with hanging tongue

When the food drops

Burning