Sunday, October 27, 2013

Autumn


Autumn...it’s my favourite season of all. The skies are clear blue, the air crisp and clean and the leaves so full of colour.
The dark red maples
Every day I try to walk along the pathways, looking up at the leaves, taking in their colour. There are so many shades of oranges, yellows and reds.
The yellows and oranges
The maples are my favourite, some large and orange others small and deep red. They fall gently floating down to land along the pathway and in the forests.
Leaves along the pathways
And every now and then, God shows me something extra special. A special leaf that makes me smile and laugh and be so thankful for all that I have been blessed with.

A special leaf smiling up at me



Autumn Colours

                              Life, laughter and one special leaf, life is so good.


 

Saturday, October 19, 2013

Cowichan, Our Community


Yesterday I attended an event “Creating Cross Cultural Connections” for community building supported by many local non profit organizations. Leaders from all organizations were invited to attend this day long event to bring us together to build bridges of communications between First Nations people and ourselves. The hope of the workshop was to bring an understanding of each other and to begin to move forward to once again becoming a community of wholeness.

It began with one of the facilitators, Kathi Camilleri, a facilitator of experiential workshops regarding Canada’s Policy of Assimilation and Colonization, helping us to understand the village life of the First Nations people. She shared her story of being a Métis Cree and an Irish descendant. Through her we created a First Nations Village.  As we sat in a circle ( there were over a 100 people in attendance) blankets and skins were placed in the center. She talked about how to know when you were home, how to know your village and as she did people came forward and placed the objects in the center. The First Nations people knew their village by their music, the food that they ate, the canoes that they paddled, the patterns of beads on their clothing and the language they spoke. No one owned the land, the land was there for all. They only used what they needed.

We then created our village. Those wanting to be the children of the village came forward and sat on the blankets. Kathi shared with us how the children were loved and cared for by everyone. Each child was looked on as a gift of the Creator and each child had a special gift to bring to the village. If they were off playing they were fed by whoever’s home they were at. Those people wanting to be parents came and sat around the children followed by those wanting to be the aunts and uncles. You didn’t have to be blood related to be an aunt and uncle, everyone who cared for the children were their aunts and uncles. They were all family and they had an understanding that it took a village to raise a child.

Next came the elders, not the elderly but the folks who had knowledge, who had lived life and so therefore had knowledge on one aspect or another. At this time I moved forward and sat with the elders. I have never felt such a feeling of being wise and knowledgeable in my life. The remaining people then stood around the outside of the circle representing the braves and hunters. These young men would hunt and bring food to the village sharing with everyone. They did not just keep the food for themselves but everyone was given enough food. The braves protected the village and kept wild animals out, keeping the village safe from harm.

The village life centered around love, respect, kindness and generoursity. Their love for all of creation, their respect for each other, and their shared kindness and generousity to all people was the foundation that kept the village whole and complete.

When the Europeans came to Canada, they were not bad people but they had been raised in another world with other practices, where the rich owned the land, their children going to private schools while the poor worked the land and their children taken out of school early to help with the work. They had been told there was free land here for the taking, and take they did. The First Nations people were forced to change their way of life, moved off the land they had lived on and given sacks of flour to sustain them. Then the most horrid of things happened. They were stripped of their sacred items, banished from hosting potlatches and their children were taken away from them, put into residential schools, forced to speak English and punished for speaking their own language, the only language they knew. Parents were threatened with the removal of their sacks of flour (their only source of food) if they did not turn over their children or tried to hide them. We were read a statement of Canadian law that stated that they could face up to six months in prison if they did not comply. Parents could go for weeks not knowing what had happened to their children before finding out that they had been taken away to a school. Alcohol was brought into the community as a way of coping. It dulled their pain if only for a little while.

As we re-enacted this part of history each group of people, the parents, the aunts and uncles, the elders and young braves were asked how this all made them feel. The pain shared was heartfelt. We heard from First Nations women who told how their grandchildren were still suffering from what had happened to their grandparents, their lack of being shown how to parent and how to love. We heard from an Irish descendant who shared her feeling of shame of what was done to these people by her ancestors.

Afterwards, people playing the role of the children were returned to the village as adult strangers. These children had been raised by underfunded Christian Residential schools. Most were underfed and abused. When they returned families did not know each other and their connections were broken, their languages different, unable to communicate to each other they were lost. The traditions had not been passed forward to this generation, the stories not shared, the lessons of the elders not taught. They did not know how to cope or live in this new world they were returned to. They did not know how to show their love or to parent their own children.

The room was filled with so many emotions and many tears were shed. At lunch two of the Cowichan Tribes women kindly offered their services of cleansing with “brushing down” using cedar branches. The lineup was long, but the gift of their tradition that they gave to each of us and the tears and hugs shared was very healing.

In the afternoon we broke into groups sharing our thoughts and ideas on how we can move forward from this day. How we can bring together the people of this valley to be as one, to remove the racism that is shown towards and is felt here each day by the First Nations people. We know we cannot let it end with yesterday. What we learned and experienced needs to be experienced by all people. Reading about it does not give the sense of feeling that one has when they actually participate in the experience of what happened. There is hope for monthly social events to bring people together, for groups to host this workshop for all others and for it to be brought not only to the school aged children but to their parents and their grandparents so that we can all learn and understand together.

I was raised in this valley as were my parents and my parents, parents. It was in the late 1800’s that my great grandparents and great uncles came to this valley as homesteaders and began to farm the land. I have always been so proud to be part of my family, to know my ancestors had lived here in this same place, swam in the same rivers and worked the land and been part of the community.  After yesterdays sharing of stories my pride was replaced with guilt and shame. The pain I felt for what was done to the Quw’utsun people and all First Nations people of Canada was overwhelming.


The Cowichan Valley, home of the Quw'utsun people and my Welsh ancestors

As I ran on the treadmill this morning, thinking of the actions of my ancestors, how they were here living in the valley when the children were removed and did nothing to stop it, the pain and shame feelings returned and the tears flowed and as they did the words of Jesus came to me “forgive them for they know not what they do”. These words flowed over and over again through my mind and I know Jesus was right. Our ancestors did not know what the outcome of their actions against these people would be. Like all of us we learn from our elders, not from what they tell us but more from their actions and what we see. The disrespect for our First Nations people has been passed down from generation to generation and I know for healing to take place forgiveness must be given. As Jesus said I need to forgive my ancestors for they did not understand what they were doing.  I need to speak with each of my children and ask for their forgiveness, for my racist remarks and actions and for the times when I did not show them or others the love, respect, kindness and generousity that they deserved as being gifts from our Creator. I need to forgive myself. There needs to be forgiveness so that healing can begin and we can move forward together as one people, as one community no longer judged by the colour of our skin or by our ancestor’s actions.

Huy ch q’u, thank you for taking the time to read this and for your understanding. I apologize for it’s length and it’s lack of pictures. This is my first step in moving forward from yesterday. I hope it is just a small step of many that I can make to work together with others to bring wholeness back to the Quw’utsun people and all people of our Cowichan Valley.
                                   "Forgive them for they know not what they do"
                                                                                                Luke 23:34
 

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Thanksgiving Day

It’s Thanksgiving Sunday in Canada, a day for thankfulness and gratitude. Last evening I prepared a Thanksgiving meal for my youngest daughter and myself. I am not used to cooking for two people and prepared enough for six but leftovers are always great. We had spent a lovely day together, walking down by the marina while getting caught up with each other. 

Sara at the Marina
As I sat down to eat with her I couldn’t help but be thankful for being blessed with such a wonderful family and their willingness to share their home with me.
Thanksgiving Dinner #1
This morning I awakened early to make the two hour drive down island and back home. As I headed out,  the skies were dark and cold but it wasn’t long before the sun began to rise. I watched as it spread its beautiful colours over the skies...first turning the thin clouds light pink and then the skies grew brighter and brighter. I watched the sun come up over the ocean, and then through the trees and eventually it shone so bright it was hard to focus on the road. As I drove along watching it come up over the hills I couldn’t help but be thankful for all of creation and everything God has blessed us with. The trees are full of autumn colours...the oranges, reds and yellows bring a wonderful mixture of colour to brighten up the green of the evergreen trees. They look amazing. I love autumn. I think it is my favourite time of year.

Autumn colours
As I continued to drive and take in all the beauty that surrounded me I couldn’t help but feel gratitude that I was born in a country with such abundance. In a country, with not only such beauty in nature but where all people are free and have the right to their own beliefs and practices. It made me think of all the men and women of our Canadian Forces...those past and present who have either given or risked their lives to keep our country a place of peace and who have gone abroad to support other countries in their quest to live in a “just” world. I shudder to think what it would be like if there weren’t brave souls who were willing to risk their lives to make a difference in this world.
Tonight I worked at our church’s monthly Community Dinner where we fed close to 140 people. It was amazing. Many of our volunteers were unable to come and help as they were having their family Thanksgiving dinner but so many new people came and helped. It touched my heart to see our hall fill up to overflowing and people jumping up to bring out more table and chairs. Thankfully we didn’t run out of food, but if we had I know the folks who were there would have understood. Many of them came to the door to thank us for the meal. There was such gratitude shared between the people receiving the meal and those serving it. We were thankful for each other. It saddens me to know that we live in a country with so much and yet so many still go hungry. Someday I hope that we no longer need these meals...that all people will have enough food and a warm place to call home.
Thanksgiving Church Display
Thanksgiving, a day to give thanks, something we need to do every day.  Living a life of gratitude, being thankful everyday, thankful for our lives, for all that we are blessed with and even thankful for the things in life that cause us to struggle but bring us personal growth. Living a life of constant gratitude is something I would like to do instead of being negative and complaining over life when it doesn’t go exactly as I want it to.  Maybe it starts with one day of gratitude, and then two and then a week and then a month until it becomes second nature to rise each day with a smile and a feeling of gratitude for all.
Today, Thanksgiving Day, was Day 1. I pray that a year from now, my heart will constantly be full of gratitude and thankfulness for all that life brings to me.
Happy Thanksgiving J