As cover illustration for my book, Creating Choices: Rethinking Aboriginal Policy, I chose a painting by Gerald Folster, a Manitoba Native artist. Standing at the window of a house is a young aboriginal woman looking out on a summer scene that could be many places in northern Canada. Leading from the house is a path. It forks, one branch winding toward a city on the horizon, the other into the bush. At the fork stands a second woman who must choose her path. Perhaps this second woman is mother to the first. Perhaps this choice is painful—to one or both of the women. Whatever the relation between the women or their state of mind, the painting evokes a choice faced by many aboriginals.
For Russell, my proposals for federal and provincial social policy to improve urban aboriginal education and health outcomes are potions “poured from the colonial medicine bottle.” For him, there is only one genuine choice. The urban path is taken only because Canadian governments violated the spirit of 19th-century treaties. Behind his accusation of colonialism is a refusal to accept the urban path, a path away from the reserve, as a legitimate choice.
Russell and I disagree. Urban aboriginals may be angry at historical injustices but, in my opinion, whatever new treaty arrangements are negotiated or litigated, most are unlikely to return to live on reserve. They may return to visit—urban aboriginals are more mobile than non-aboriginals—but they are as inextricably part of urban Canada as the grandchildren of black Mississippi sharecroppers are part of urban America.
Russell writes as passionate advocate for the goals of the Assembly of First Nations, the umbrella organization representing 600 band chiefs. His ideas have relevance to those aboriginals who continue to have meaningful reserve links. I wrote in the preface: “Treaties have an important role in any discussion of policy for the three in ten Aboriginals who live on reserve. But seven in ten now live off reserve, and five in ten live in cities.” These figures are from the 2001 census. Admittedly, of those aboriginals who identified as Indian—as opposed to Métis or Inuit—nearly one half lived on reserve, but even among this group nearly one quarter lived in a city.
Russell approves Yukon treaty negotiations undertaken by Tony Penikett. But only one in 20 aboriginals live north of the 60th parallel. The aboriginal population of Winnipeg—56,000 in 2001—is eight times larger than Yukon’s. Does Russell envision that Winnipeg be governed on the basis of co-management treaties between the city’s “white settlers” and leaders of the bands from which Winnipeg’s aboriginal population migrated? What role would he afford to Winnipeg’s non-status aboriginals, many of whom identify as Métis, not Indian?
To realize a good income in contemporary Canada, the prerequisite is a good education. Incidentally, I agree with Russell that the education agreement recently signed by Indian Affairs minister Jim Prentice with bands in British Colombia makes sense. He interprets it as aboriginals taking control of their education. I interpret it somewhat differently. Individual bands already control on-reserve schools, but these schools are failing too many children. (Off-reserve schools are doing better by aboriginal students, but they too are not doing well enough.) The agreement enables transfer of control over on-reserve schools from individual bands to a larger and more professional aboriginal-run school authority that will, hopefully, achieve better results. Provided students of these more professionally run schools sit the required provincial exams, the provincial government has agreed that it will certify them as having the equivalent of a B.C. high school certification certificate.
The future prosperity of most—not all but most—aboriginals depends on their successful integration into modern, industrial and increasingly urban Canada. With due respect to Russell’s passionate advocacy, to the integrity of Penikett’s negotiations as Yukon premier, and to the skill whereby the Assembly of First Nations makes its case, Canadian aboriginal policy needs rethinking. It is time to give some respect to the fork in the path that leads to town.
