Activated

 In my twenties, I confided in a white woman about how much authority social workers and doctors had over my life. Her expression was one of confusion, almost as if she thought I was delirious—she might have even called it crazy. I was taken aback by her reaction, as I had always assumed everyone shared the same experiences as Indigenous people. That moment opened my eyes to the profound oppression faced by our GITXSAN community.

I started to understand the depth of our struggles and the complexities of our identity. The systemic barriers we faced were not just personal; they were woven into the fabric of society itself. It wasn't just about individual experiences but a collective history of colonization, marginalization, and cultural erasure. 

As I reflected on that encounter, I realized that the woman’s confusion stemmed from her own lack of understanding about the realities of Indigenous life. She didn’t see the ways in which our communities were impacted by external forces—how decisions made far away influenced our daily existence. I began to grasp the importance of sharing our stories, of educating those who didn’t understand the systemic issues at play.

I felt a growing urgency to advocate for my people, to amplify our voices, and to challenge the narratives that perpetuated our oppression. I sought to connect with others who shared similar experiences, to build a network of support and solidarity. It became clear to me that our strength lay not just in our individual resilience, but in our ability to come together as a community.

In my journey, I discovered the power of cultural revitalization. I attended ceremonies, learned our language, and immersed myself in the teachings of our elders. Each step brought me closer to understanding the richness of our heritage and the importance of passing it on to the next generation. I realized that reclaiming our identity was not just a personal act, but a collective responsibility.

Through this process, I also learned to confront the stigma and stereotypes that often surrounded Indigenous people. I began to share my experiences openly, hoping to educate others and challenge their perceptions. It was not always easy; there were times I faced backlash and misunderstanding. But I remained committed to the cause, knowing that change would not happen overnight.

As I continue on this path, I am filled with hope. I see a new generation of Indigenous leaders emerging, passionate and determined to fight for our rights and our future. Together, we are building a movement that honors our past while striving for a better future. Through education, activism, and cultural pride, I believe we can dismantle the oppressive systems that seek to keep us down and create a world where all Indigenous voices are heard and valued.

 Chapter

Popular posts from this blog

Bear with hanging tongue

Image
The bear with the tongue hanging out of its mouth is not what you think.  Gather around, and let me share a story that carries the weight of our history, a tale that speaks of resilience and survival. Many people do not understand the significance of the tongue, often mistaking it as merely a feature of the bear. But there is much more to this story, one that we must keep alive as our Aboriginal stories, culture, and beliefs are too often appropriated for the profit of others. In our tradition, totem poles are read from the bottom up, with the tribe usually depicted at the base. It is important to note that the Gitxsan do not have a bear tribe. Instead, the bear symbolizes Russia, a powerful force that once threatened our lands. Long ago, the West Coast nations—including the Gitxsan, Nisga'a, Haida, and others—joined together to stand against Russia when they began to claim our traditional territories and take our people as slaves. Among those who suffered was a woman from th...
Read more

When the food drops

Image
I learned a lot from my grandfather and my parents just by watching them every day. We didn’t talk much about spirituality; we just lived it. Spirituality runs deep in our upbringing; it’s something that flows through our blood and is passed down by our ancestors who have gone before us. Our beliefs aren’t fancy or dramatic—there's no fire and lightning, just the spirit. We used to respect all of life, knowing that spirits are present in everything, including ourselves. God is within us and beside us; every thought we have is a prayer. I should mention that medicine can be used for harm too. Thoughts filled with hatred can be prayers as well. Some people who mix their medicine with bad intentions are called Hel'dow'gwit, or witchcraft. Over the past 50 years, many Gitxsan have changed and evolved. Sweat lodges, which were once only for hunting preparation, are now spaces for prayers and healing. Traditional gatherings have transformed into Healing Circles where we talk abou...
Read more

Burning

Image
Too often, our Gitxsan culture is romanticized, which can create an illusion that it is unattainable or far removed from the realities of our daily lives. This perception can make it seem uninviting to our young people, who may feel disconnected from the traditions and values that define us. We must remember to light the fire, to gather together, and to prepare meals with love for our family and friends. The act of burning food is not a failure but a reminder of our humanity and the lessons we learn along the way. Each meal shared is an opportunity to connect, to nurture, and to honor those we cherish. Every thought is a prayer. When we think of our loved ones who have journeyed on, they are with us in spirit, surrounding us with their love and gratitude for the respect and intention we hold in our hearts. It is in these moments that we can feel their presence, reminding us of the strength of our connections and the importance of our cultural practices. Let us not shy away from the imp...
Read more