Indian Giver
This article was published on-line by the Winnipeg Free Press this past Monday, May 7th.
I think it would be very cathartic for anyone who has ever uttered, heard or been denigrated by the slur, "Indian Giver!".
I think it would be very cathartic for anyone who has ever uttered, heard or been denigrated by the slur, "Indian Giver!".
Indian giver? We gave until there were only empty promises left
Mon May 7 2007
Colleen Simard
INDIAN giver: I first heard those words around Grade 4. They got tossed around the schoolyard as recklessly as the battered yellow tetherballs kids lined up to take swings at.
Kids can be mean. The white boys hurled it, pony-tailed girls sang it, and even a few of the aboriginal kids shouted "Indian giver" at each other once in a while. The words stung, but I didn't know why.
Not that it mattered. It had more to do with the tone and the surly curl of the lips when the words were doled out. The underlying message was clear: You're poor, you've got shabby clothes and your DNA makes you inferior.
Indian giver. Great.
What did we ever give that was so bad?
My best friend -- a girl from Berens River -- explained the slur was supposed to be used for someone who gave you a gift, then turned around and took it back. We both agreed Indian giving was a bad thing to do, but then a silent shame hung in the air.
Did our people really do something like that?
We move on. Most people stop the name-calling, and don't pass it on to their kids. Bitter words get forgotten. But the term Indian giver came back to me in an unlikely place.
It was when I was at a Sundance in Saskatchewan last summer. I don't know much about sun dances, but the invitation was too good to turn down. It was on the last day of the dance, when the giveaway was held.
A family came into the inner circle of the lodge. Some young guys brought a folded tarp in. When it was opened up and spread out there was a mound of bright blankets, pillows, towels, small appliances, tea towels, kitchen utensils, and even toys for the kids.
The announcer introduced the family to the people. I realized this family had worked hard all year to buy or make these gifts. They asked for nothing in return, except the good blessings of the community.
Family after family came into the lodge after that, each with gifts for everyone. Some wanted to honour deceased family members, and some wanted to celebrate a child getting their Indian name. I'd never seen such generosity. At the end of the day, my car was stuffed with gifts to take home.
The giveaway is undeniable proof that generosity is one of our traditions. Yes, we often defended our territory in times of war, and even engaged in unnecessary wars like any other people. But as individuals we were always taught to put the needs of our community above our own.
According to the old ways, an Indian is wealthy when he can give to his community. That's the true definition of what an Indian giver should be.
We weren't perfect, no one is, but giving was part of our culture.
Many of our ancestors welcomed newcomers to what used to be called Turtle Island. We offered to share the land with them.
Our scouts gave when they guided "great explorers" down our waterways and trade routes. Maybe they shouldn't have because these explorers were charting the country to claim it for their homeland. We even hunted for many of the early traders so they could survive the harsh winters. Read a Hudson's Bay diary from the provincial archives if you don't believe me.
Indian giver.
We were forced to give up our children, our languages, our livelihood, our ceremonies, our connection to the land. We were forced to conform to survive. Resilient people, we gave up almost everything that made us who we are.
And it was all in the name of "progress" and assimilation and justified by ordinary people thinking they knew what was good for us. We gave until there were only empty promises left -- unfulfilled even today.
I know who the real Indian giver is. Do you?
Mon May 7 2007
Colleen Simard
INDIAN giver: I first heard those words around Grade 4. They got tossed around the schoolyard as recklessly as the battered yellow tetherballs kids lined up to take swings at.
Kids can be mean. The white boys hurled it, pony-tailed girls sang it, and even a few of the aboriginal kids shouted "Indian giver" at each other once in a while. The words stung, but I didn't know why.
Not that it mattered. It had more to do with the tone and the surly curl of the lips when the words were doled out. The underlying message was clear: You're poor, you've got shabby clothes and your DNA makes you inferior.
Indian giver. Great.
What did we ever give that was so bad?
My best friend -- a girl from Berens River -- explained the slur was supposed to be used for someone who gave you a gift, then turned around and took it back. We both agreed Indian giving was a bad thing to do, but then a silent shame hung in the air.
Did our people really do something like that?
We move on. Most people stop the name-calling, and don't pass it on to their kids. Bitter words get forgotten. But the term Indian giver came back to me in an unlikely place.
It was when I was at a Sundance in Saskatchewan last summer. I don't know much about sun dances, but the invitation was too good to turn down. It was on the last day of the dance, when the giveaway was held.
A family came into the inner circle of the lodge. Some young guys brought a folded tarp in. When it was opened up and spread out there was a mound of bright blankets, pillows, towels, small appliances, tea towels, kitchen utensils, and even toys for the kids.
The announcer introduced the family to the people. I realized this family had worked hard all year to buy or make these gifts. They asked for nothing in return, except the good blessings of the community.
Family after family came into the lodge after that, each with gifts for everyone. Some wanted to honour deceased family members, and some wanted to celebrate a child getting their Indian name. I'd never seen such generosity. At the end of the day, my car was stuffed with gifts to take home.
The giveaway is undeniable proof that generosity is one of our traditions. Yes, we often defended our territory in times of war, and even engaged in unnecessary wars like any other people. But as individuals we were always taught to put the needs of our community above our own.
According to the old ways, an Indian is wealthy when he can give to his community. That's the true definition of what an Indian giver should be.
We weren't perfect, no one is, but giving was part of our culture.
Many of our ancestors welcomed newcomers to what used to be called Turtle Island. We offered to share the land with them.
Our scouts gave when they guided "great explorers" down our waterways and trade routes. Maybe they shouldn't have because these explorers were charting the country to claim it for their homeland. We even hunted for many of the early traders so they could survive the harsh winters. Read a Hudson's Bay diary from the provincial archives if you don't believe me.
Indian giver.
We were forced to give up our children, our languages, our livelihood, our ceremonies, our connection to the land. We were forced to conform to survive. Resilient people, we gave up almost everything that made us who we are.
And it was all in the name of "progress" and assimilation and justified by ordinary people thinking they knew what was good for us. We gave until there were only empty promises left -- unfulfilled even today.
I know who the real Indian giver is. Do you?
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