STORIES / Okara’shòn:’a
Where I feel at home
The Pines or Onen’tó:kon, has always been a sacred place and one of refuge for the generations of my grandparents who sought peace in the Pines when the Sulpicians were harassing and brutalizing the people. They wanted us all to leave for Wáhta, but in the end, we have won because we are still here and we’re not going anywhere.
detach with love
I would have a lot of quiet talks with my mother on her back deck by the pool. My birth mother helped me a lot. She told me my father’s name and helped my children and I get status. I remember we went to some office, she spoke Mohawk for about five minutes, and within a month I had my status.
The only thing Indian was the students
My grandparents raised all six of us. I was six months old when my father passed away. I was told that the Indian Agency came into the house here and tried to take my brothers away. My grandparents told them to leave. If they would have succeeded, maybe today I wouldn’t have any nieces or nephews around. Who knows what would’ve happened.
Best driver
Some said I was the best driver, but I never put myself out there saying I’m the best, better than my friends. I firmly believe that the best one is the Creator, not the one who boasts about it.
You’ll never hear me shooting my mouth off, claiming that I’m better than anyone else.
I could drive anything
I quit driving trucks because I was fed up with it. From there, I transitioned to school bus driving. I did that for 17 years. That’s where I took my pension, in 2008. I said to myself, I think it’s about time.
Religion divided us
I started going to high school in Lachine in 1959. In those days Chateauguay practically didn’t exist. We all shopped in Lachine, went to school in Lachine. We hung out over there and knew all the places.
We used to take those fancy coach buses with the high seats because we didn’t have school buses from Kahnawake yet. We felt so high class.
Still Kanien’kehá:kA
It was very confusing, but through teachings I’ve learned that I am a sacred being, Creator recognizes me, and I can be accepted in both realms. Once I came to that realization, the thundercloud was no longer threatening.
Adopted during the Sixties Scoop
I have vivid memories of being a toddler in foster care. I was originally adopted by a family, but then was sent back to foster care until my adoptive mother, Pauline adopted me. My mom was a single, non-Indigenous women, yet she had Ojibwe ancestry from Walpole Island through her grandmother.
Threading the Needle
In the winter months, the old ladies would come to our house. I don't know if they were really old ladies. But to me, they were old. There would be a lamp set in the middle of the table and a whole bunch of them would do beadwork.
River Fishing
We used to go fish down at the train bridge. We would ride our bikes there. We’d catch so many fish and tie them to a chain. We’d have a hard time riding our bikes with so much fish.
Ice Storm
During winter months, some community members would haul goods by horse and sleigh down the main street (or the front street as we knew it back then). There were thick ice ruts in the street, and it became extremely hazardous for horses, more so for people trying to walk on the thick ice.
Christmas in Kahnawà:ke
My father used to go with his uncle and his friend up to Saint Lucie before Christmas to cut down trees and bring them back for his uncle, my grandfather and a few others in the family. It was an all-day process so they would only get back late at night.
Learning about literature
When I was about five or so, dad would read a series of illustrated stories from the Montreal Star with me that told of a small community that lived within the shelter of a rose bush. The series was called The Teenie Weenies. Several months ago, I was telling my son how I had enjoyed those stories; he looked them up online, and found me, for this Christmas, an original Teenie Weenie book published in 1944.
Coincidence
I remember when we left Standing Rock, we were just taking a stroll and there were two bald eagles sitting in the tree very low. As we drove back home, we hit the state of Michigan, and I looked up at the sunroof in the car and there was a bald eagle circling the car making sure we got back safely.
Becoming an ironworker
A week before I turned 18 my father said, “I’m going to take you to work with me.” We got a ride down to New York and stayed at his apartment that was on the street next to Spar Bar in Brooklyn.
Our strength
Almost all Indigenous people have a deeply rooted spirituality that is the basis of how we see things in this world. It’s that mentality that has helped us to survive horrendous stuff in these last 500 years.
We are no longer sovereign
So, we really need to understand to what degree we are colonized. And we need to begin the process of decolonizing ourselves. And that requires us to go back to step 1. Step one is the spiritual realm where we all come from.
Princess White Deer
Esther travelled the world with her uncles. There were three of them, three brothers: James, John, and George. James was her father and John was my grandfather. George didn’t have any kids. They also had a sister.