STORIES / Okara’shòn:’a
Taking work home
"Yes, you bring the people back home with you, the kids back home with you. It’s sometimes very difficult."
My own fear
Luckily for me, my children love me so it doesn’t matter what I do. I suppose it does matter but they’ll never judge me or be upset with me. I’ve never had backlash from anybody.
Doing our best
We felt that all of the teachers were doing their best. I don’t think any of the teachers were slacking in that department.
Time to come home
When I turned 18, me and my good friend Eddie Brown decided to join the Marines. We enlisted under the buddy system and were together most of the time.
My shoes came off and moccasins went on
I didn’t learn to speak English until I started school, because we only spoke Mohawk in our home, I had nobody to speak English to in the house. My grandmother didn’t even speak English so, my grandmother and I conversed every day and I never lost my language.
Taking a walk down Memory Lane
It was a great life; School time in New York and summers in beautiful Kahnawake.
No electricity
I don’t know how long we would have meat for because we didn’t even have a fridge. No fridge, no freezer, no electricity.
The need to laugh
Humour is the best thing I can do because it puts people off quilter, and then you can talk about anything. You use your opponent’s strength or their attack against them. And if you’re not attacked, you dance!
Opening doors
I try to open whatever doors I can for them by teaching them. I'm starting with manual stuff. Next week, we're doing dream catchers with the kids. Later, they’ll help me teach about 60 of their teachers and supervisors how to make them.
Profile: Leonard Bordeau's career
Leonard Bordeau may have retired more than 15 years ago, but he’s never slowed down. At 78, he remains active in Kahnawake—taking part in community activities, serving on the board of Sharing Our Stories, and continuing his efforts to preserve Kanien’kéha (Mohawk) language and culture.
Moving into the Treatment Center
Each day that we met with Ciaccia, we would tell him about the monstrosities that the SQ had been perpetrating. One day they would shut our water off, and then the next would be our power. Intimidating the residents of Kanehsatà:ke was a daily affair.
It’s too heavy
I don’t take it personally. It’s not about me, it has nothing to do with me. When I do this kind of work, I’m just not here. It’s second nature to do that.
We are not alone
We weren’t allowed to watch TV, that was only for white kids. So we would climb the fence and we could see through their window and watch TV.
Something missing
John and Stephen McComber were the teachers for the guys. There was also Barbara Littlebear who taught us some beadwork and how to make our own moccasins. She did powwow dancing too.
They all boxed
We had tournaments in our basement too; chess tournaments, dart tournaments, even wrestling. We had boxing down there!
Onen’tó:kon
So, Friday night comes and at about six o'clock we all go into the cedar room to have a meeting. They said, "Earl, where is your roommate?"
The last white pine forest
I remember when people used to respect the land and followed the teachings passed down through stories. But today, we see so many people getting sick from diabetes, cancer, things we didn’t have before.
Years in Brooklyn
I was in the public school system and got to meet a lot of different people. It was a whole new system that you had to adapt to. It was a lot different from Catholic School here in Kahnawà:ke.