We still have to struggle, but now we are in this together. I reach out to all Canadians today in this spirit of reconciliation. — National Chief Phil Fontaine responding to Stephen Harper’s historic apology in the House of Commons
Marie Wadden’s latest book, Where the Pavement Ends: Canada’s Aboriginal Recovery Movement and the Urgent Need for Reconciliation, comes at an important time in Canada’s history. On June 11, 2008, Prime Minister Stephen Harper rose in the House of Commons and offered an apology to aboriginal people, and indeed all Canadians, for the sad legacy of residential schools. The apology came on the heels of a landmark settlement with residential school survivors intended to compensate their pain and suffering, and prior to the launch of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which was struck to help all involved heal from this terrible history. The question left unanswered is where do we go from here. Marie Wadden tries to answer it in this heartfelt book, and she partly succeeds.
Wadden’s ambitions are laid out early on: “The pages of this book contain some answers. None of them are simple, since the problems are complex. Taken together, though, they outline some necessary steps on the path to finding solutions.”
It is a bold yet refreshing claim, in a field where so many want to testify to how bad things are and not offer any solutions. In many ways Wadden succeeds in shaping some answers in the areas of programming and community development. She uses personal profiles and interviews to create a story of hope and potential. Yet it is clear we still have a long way to go.
Marie Wadden is a journalist and a CBC radio producer who lives in St. John’s, Newfoundland. She received an Atkinson Fellowship in Public Policy to conduct the research that forms the basis of this book. Her first book was the award-win- ning Nitassinan: The Innu Struggle to Reclaim Their Homeland. Wadden undoubtedly has a passion for aboriginal peoples, which comes through in her writing, and she does not attempt to simplify the issues or the necessary responses.
Wadden comes at this project both as an insider and an outsider. She is an insider as a result of her personal relationships with some of the key players she writes about. The book begins with a story of two Innu high school students, Peter Penashue and Edward Nuna, who went to live with her in St. John’s to finish their education. She writes how she came to an understanding about the boys’ community of Sheshatshiu and the myriad problems it faced, and continues to face. It was this community that later came to international prominence when children were videotaped sniffing gas and wishing to die. Wadden writes of visiting Peter’s and Edward’s families and being shocked how the change from a traditional lifestyle to a modern one caused such tremendous social disruption.
This was a riddle for me. How could a change in lifestyle produce such self-destructive behaviour from such fine people? … Many households in Sheshatshiu were headed by alcoholics who were transformed on the land into hunting camp leaders, because they were such great providers of warmth and food.
From this personal foundation Wadden expands her view and looks across the country for answers. She becomes an outsider who is clearly approaching these problems as a journalist. While she never comes out and states it, it appears that Wadden’s version of reconciliation is linked to healing: healing of peoples, communities and nations.
Wadden speaks about reconciliation in a number of ways that resonate well with the aboriginal community. First, she looks at the concept from a political perspective, trying to reconcile the ideals and spirit on which our country was founded with our current realities. Throughout the book she calls for the full commitment to the spirit of the treaties. She interviews Marcel Hardisty, administrator of the social development programs for the Wanipigow reserve, who states:
What governments fail to do is educate the public about the real nature of or the real spirit of intent in treaty making. The intent as far as our people understood it, is that we would share the real resources of the land, and that means the raw resources: the royalties from the use of water, minerals, the land and the air. That hasn’t been properly recognized within governments and Canadian society.
Second, she seeks reconciliation within aboriginal communities between traditional ways and modern realities, attempting to find a meaningful relationship between the aboriginal spiritual fullness of the past and the hopeless addictions so many find themselves enslaved to in the present. The book as a whole is a breathless attempt at encompassing many complex aspects of reconciliation. It is an approach that reflects an aboriginal holistic view of reconciliation, and Wadden is very proficient at it.
Where the Pavement Ends contains 21 chapters, each dedicated to a different aspect of reconciliation. The chapter on fetal alcohol syndrome disorder does a good job of bringing voice to a significant and often overlooked issue. Wadden writes that while the national average for babies with FASD is 10 babies for every 1,000 born, the number is estimated to be 190 babies for every 1000 born in the aboriginal community. Even more shocking is the claim that nearly 40 percent of the babies born in Nunatsiavut have FASD. Wadden quotes Dr. Ted Rosales, a pediatric geneticist in St. John’s on the scope of the problem: “If alcohol use during pregnancy is not stopped, the next generation will not have the brain capacity to appreciate their own culture as something they should be proud of.”
Unmistakably, this is a call to action if there ever was one. The chapter effectively explores the issue from the perspective of healthcare professionals on the front lines of this challenge. Wadden writes about the frustration felt by Rosales when he intervened after 40 Innu children were airlifted from Labrador and taken to St. John’s to remove them from gas sniffing in their community. He worked with these children for four months and provided specific recommendations on how to deal with the FASD many of the youth have. The recommendations were not followed:
Rosales poured heart and soul into a report that included not just diagnoses but also recommendations on ways to support the children with FASD throughout their lives. However, he told me, after some counselling and solvent abuse therapy, the children were sent back home and his report was set aside.
The lack of action had tragic consequences. Rosales tells the story of J.B. Rich, a mischievous ringleader but one for whom the doctor had affection. The boy continued to get in trouble with the law, and Rosales emailed his lawyer to see how he was doing. Wadden writes:
Rosales read down through the reply … The lawyer’s final words shocked him: “Sad to say, he killed himself.” “J.B. hung himself shortly after the trial, and a few weeks later his brother Charlie did the same. Charlie also had FASD,” Rosales told me, … his voice cracking. “I could have done more.”
It is Wadden at her best.
Wadden’s skill as a broadcaster allows her to highlight the words of individuals as they fight their daily battles. Here, the pain of social relationships unravelling as an alcoholic quits drinking comes through sadly and dramatically. As one man says,
I used to have a lot of friends back then [when he was still drinking. It’s kind of confusing in one way, because you used to have these people with you when you were drinking, and now you don’t have them. They’re all gone now. They’re around here, but they’re still drinking and never come to see me.
This, Wadden makes clear, is the choice that must be made: stop drinking and lose your social relationships, or continue and lose so much more. The pain of knowing that whatever decision is made will have negative consequences is illustrated very well.
The various chapters also highlight some tremendous people and organizations doing really good work in the communities. These are critical stories that we do not hear enough about. Maggie Hodgson is featured as a long-time leader and organizer. Maggie is the creator of Healing Our Spirit Worldwide, an international conference on aboriginal people and alcoholism. Her tireless efforts are rightly applauded. Organizations such as the Aboriginal Healing Foundation and programs such as the National Native Alcohol and Drug Abuse Program are featured and celebrated. These leaders in the field have made a tremendous contribution to the betterment of our communities and Wadden’s book does a great service in highlighting their contributions. If you do not know about them, that alone is reason to read this book.
Where the Pavement Ends is far from perfect however. The book could have been strengthened if it paid attention to the fact that the majority of aboriginal people live in urban areas. The 2006 census affirms that there are 1.3 million people with aboriginal identity in Canada. Of these, 29 percent live on reserves and 54 percent live in urban areas, with the balance living in rural but non-reserve communities. Yet there is little attempt in Wadden’s book to determine how to achieve her notion of a reconciliation movement in urban areas. The ability to reach urban aboriginals is a critical indicator of any future success. There is no shortage of work being done in cities. The Friendship Centre Movement began in the 1950s and has been very active in providing all sorts of social supports for urban aboriginal peoples. Other service delivery organizations have been engaged for more than 50 years in cities trying to support transitions and improve the quality of life for urban aboriginal peoples. It is puzzling that Wadden would not have spent time on the approaches to these very pressing problems in cities.
The main weakness of this book is its frustrating moments of naiveté. A couple of examples will suffice. In the introduction Wadden offers the following proclamations: “We must make social healing in Aboriginal communities an immediate national priority. We must also demand public policy that guarantees First Nation, Inuit and Metis people the right to live as full and equal citizens.”
Does Wadden really want to tell the aboriginal leadership what its priorities must be? Surely she will allow that while social healing is a critical goal, the varied leaders in the aboriginal community can determine which priorities must be first. Additionally, who would disagree that all public policy must ensure aboriginal people live as full and equal citizens? In fact, the Charter of Rights and Freedoms ensures no less takes place! The inclusion of soapbox statements like this adds little value to this effort.
The other source of frustrating naiveté takes place at the end of the book. Wadden bravely attempts to put forward recommendations and an action plan to resolve many of the issues identified. In total, eleven points are made in this regard and some of them are overly idealistic. The helpful ones include calls to create a national aboriginal economic development agency, to develop a FASD strategy, to honour the Kelowna Accord commitments, to provide child sexual abuse services in aboriginal communities, to provide support for an aboriginal youth mentoring program and for the establishment of aboriginal mental health as a national priority. Each of these areas would help to address some of the most pressing social challenges that exist across Canada.
But a broad-based citizens’ coalition to support aboriginal aspirations? Funding for national aboriginal organizations for addiction consultations? Increased media coverage of aboriginal issues? What would any of these add to the quality of life of people living in communities? Concerned citizens have been raising awareness for years, to no effect. More consultations will not support people dying from alcohol abuse. Media coverage is often ill informed at best and biased at worst. Any efforts in our communities should be focused on helping people, and these recommendations, fully implemented, will not help one person on the street.
Other, more obvious recommendations are left unsaid. Wadden frequently calls for general society to respect the original terms of our federation that were identified in treaties or other relationships. Yet a call for public education systems across Canada to properly teach about these treaties in schools is missing. Wadden also cites the resolutions of land claims as a part of a critical foundation to move forward. Yet she does not recommend the expedient resolutions of land claims, and the oldest of them have been under negotiation for decades.
Do not, however, allow these criticisms to take anything away from this effort. In the end, there is a lot to applaud about this book. Where the Pavement Ends occupies a rare space on the aboriginal studies bookshelf, because it is about hope. As Wadden concludes her book she writes: “There have been a lot of losses in Aboriginal society and the depth of grieving is quite intense. Ultimately, healing will come when there is a renewal of hope. What better way to give hope than to let people know that their priorities are national priorities, too.”
Marie Wadden’s commitment to aboriginal reconciliation issues comes through at every turn of the page. If only the rest of society would pay this much attention, we might be able to get somewhere. Canadians generally seem to be suspicious of claims from aboriginal people for more support. Stories of large land claim settlements and inefficient aboriginal governance systems have raised doubts that more action is needed. I am not sure that this book will make much of an impact on the priorities of Canadians and their politicians. In the aboriginal community the impact will probably not be much greater. There is a long history of outsiders who try to help the aboriginal community, with varying levels of success. But political development in First Nation, Métis and Inuit organizations has resulted in a very sophisticated level of leadership enabling them to speak for themselves and establish their own priorities. What Wadden’s book does provide is an important reminder that we need to ensure the healing and reconciliation movement remains at the forefront of our thinking, white and aboriginal alike.
Peter Dinsdale is an Anishinabe and member of the Curve Lake First Nation in Ontario. He is currently the executive director of the National Association of Friendship Centres.
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