A friend died in hospital this last month as she awaited the common experience payment for her fifteen years in residential school. This article is dedicated to Peggy’s memory.
Reflections on Reconciliation
A theory of education suggests that most humans know all they need to learn by the time they are four years old. My experience as a parent, grandparent, and elementary school teacher supports this concept. Most children have language, cultural values, some social skills, and the capacity to dream before they enter their first classroom. If they have been nurtured by adults and have visited with Elders, they will also have grown to be trusting and generous.
Conversations about reconciliation and sharing of life experiences between five-year-old Aboriginal children and Canadian children would certainly be less complicated than attempting to engage their parents or grandparents in an open dialogue. We live in societies where mistrust, misinformation, and racism thrive.
My early life was on an isolated Cree reserve in Manitoba. The community was economically self-sufficient, with access to resources in the region. Our parents hunted, trapped, fished, and planted small gardens. Children were taught respect and sharing. The only non-Aboriginal people in the village were teachers, missionaries, and a local trader. We were taught, by example, to respect the people who were different, and we understood that we could share life with them.
It is not surprising that I have lived much of my adult life working to develop right relations between peoples. I believe that justice and peace are the basis for right relations. There is much to be gained from conversations about reconciliation, and I support the initiative.
Learning from Elders about caring and sharing has made me aware that the conversations about reconciliation are not only about relationships between Aboriginal peoples and Canadian society, but are also about our relationship to the earth, our Mother. As I draft this article, I am listening to a CBC radio program on the ecological crisis we are experiencing. One of the scientists is commenting on the challenge of encouraging individuals to change and the difficulty of convincing people that they can make a difference. People have arrived at a place where they believe the only option is to extract as much wealth as possible while it is available—a quest for security.
Our relationship with each other as humans is now an issue for discussion in the context of the earth and its capacity to support life. One Aboriginal perspective would be to talk about “all our relations,” a formula that concludes Anishinaabe prayers, affirming our connectedness with all peoples, living beings, and the earth itself. Is it possible to speak about reconciliation without the conversation including discussion of the health of the whole creation?
The book Nation To Nation: Aboriginal Sovereignty and the Future of Canada is about relationships in this land. In a chapter titled “Growing Together From the Earth” Gary Potts addresses the need to share life as people on this earth.
When you walk in a forest you see many forms of life, all living together. They each have their own integrity and the capability to be different and proud. I believe there is a future for native and non-native people to work together because of the fundamental fact that we share the same future with the land we live on.1
The strength of Gary’s statement is contained in the suggestion that the natural world teaches lessons about life shared, while diversity and dignity are honoured. I also appreciate that he points us in the direction of acceptance of our shared future. Reconciliation becomes a task that has significance for this generation, but it is primarily about those who are yet unborn. The conversation about reconciliation is not optional, and it could be central to the agenda of the United Nations if we acknowledged global realities.
Art Solomon, an Anishinaabe Elder and teacher, places the challenge before us in his writing and teaching about our significant differences, as demonstrated by our philosophies of life.
There are two different philosophies which have always been the fundamental difference between the people of the land, and the strangers who came here from Europe. One is a philosophy based on the concept of materialism: ownership of land and possession of things . . . The philosophy of the original people was based on the timelessness and the harmony and the power of the Creation and humanity’s place and purpose in it.2
The conversations about reconciliation are therefore about perspectives on the meaning of life. Art describes our understanding as Aboriginal peoples. We humbly find our place in the natural order, and we take on a role as keepers of the earth, our Mother. My father lived as a hunter, trapper, and fisherman and taught, by example, that we could control our greed and learn to only take what we need.
The root of the word reconciliation is conciliate. The Oxford Dictionary has three definitions for conciliate. The first is to “make calm and amenable.” The second definition is to “pacify,” and the third is to “gain the good will of.”3 I may be misunderstanding the full meaning of the intent for reconciliation between Aboriginal people and Canadian society, but these definitions communicate a process of manipulation and potential exploitation. Colonization and treaty-making in Canada are about conciliation. There must be more to this conversation than a repetition of our historical experiences.
In my research, I went to the Harper Collins Bible Dictionary. In this resource, reconciliation is defined as “a term indicating the changed relationship for the better between persons or groups who formerly were at enmity with each other.”4 The further explanation of the meaning of reconciliation is that it is an initiative of the Great Spirit, and the goal is our reconciliation with the Creator.
Art Solomon shared many concepts that are directly related to reconciliation. My meetings with Art were significant opportunities to learn about truth, respect, and love. He would say we are all given “original instructions” at our birth. These can guide us to a life with balance. The teaching about original instructions connects to the earlier reference to young children who often demonstrate a capacity to accept people who are different. If we as adults remembered our original instructions, reconciliation would be possible and not complicated by learned prejudice and racism.
Art had a deep passion for justice and made many trips to visit Aboriginal prisoners in Kingston, Ontario. I met with him as he was returning from one of his visits to the Kingston Prison for Women. As he spoke about the demonic nature of that place and the way Aboriginal women were treated there, I could see the frustration and anger in his eyes. The next day he would continue his work with people in society. Art maintained a commitment to healing with the hope for reconciliation.
Art Solomon shared what I understand to be an Anishinaabe prophecy. I understand this prophetic teaching as a mystical definition of reconciliation. As I remember it, Art said, “When the four winds blow, the people will come together. The people will be healed and the earth will be healed.”5
This prophetic vision describes the role of the Creator, mystically bringing diverse peoples together with the energy of the sacred winds. The great ingathering will result in healing for the people and the earth. The inclusive vision in this prophecy involves the whole created order. Our conversations about reconciliation can include care for the creation. It is also a teaching about reconciliation being tripartite involving the Creator, diverse peoples, and the whole of creation. The teaching suggests that a time will come when this reconciliation can occur, and we will thus be able to discern our part in healing.
If we are to come to the reconciliation discussion in a good way, we in the Aboriginal communities have significant preparation before us. We are in a fragmented state with many political divisions, nationally and regionally. There is a need for gatherings to be convened by our leaders so that reconciliation between the many sectors of the Aboriginal community can occur. The Aboriginal healing circle could include the Inuit, Métis, and all First Nations both non-status and status. This may be the first task for us as we approach the reconciliation process. Attempts to raise awareness of the need for reconciliation with Canadian society would be enhanced if we modelled cooperation and respect among the diverse cultures that compose the Aboriginal peoples of Canada.
The national political leaders of the various Aboriginal groups could be invited to share in a conference that would model right relations and respect. The gathering would put aside divisive matters in order to address our shared captivity on the margins of Canadian society. Collaborative action could create a significant impact on the institutions in Canada.
Expanding the Dialogue
Acknowledging the context in which we live sets a framework for establishing initial rules for undertaking reconciliation. One guiding principle that I mentioned earlier is that reconciliation implies our relationship to the environment as well as the relationship between peoples. The urgent need for all of us to care for the earth would give us a common base from which we could converse. Reconciliation is more than people getting along.
A second principle would be to acknowledge the history of colonization and the continued marginalization of Aboriginal peoples by Canadian society. Addressing historic and current oppression could demand extensive energy, but we are aided by the contents of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (RCAP) report. There are summary statements related to education, justice, social services, health, economics, and environment. Even more important, there are recommendations at the end of each of the chapters suggesting responses and actions for rectifying the existing situation. The reconciliation conversation should engage the resource that is RCAP, in ways that have not been imagined. It could be approached as a document that would enable all of us to undertake responsibility for transforming our present relationships.
A third principle would involve?a change in perspective about the way in which Aboriginal peoples would be engaged with Canadian society in the quest for reconciliation. It would assist our process if we considered how the Aboriginal Healing Foundation (AHF) was named and how it may perpetuate the paternalistic concept that only Aboriginal peoples are in need of healing. I submit that healing is also about the transformation in Canadian society. The perpetrators are wounded and marked by history in ways that are different from the victims, but both groups require healing. After five years in a residential school, I have acknowledged my need for healing. Some churches have apologized for residential school involvement, but many church members continue to defend their actions in their historic mission work with Aboriginal peoples. Governments have not apologized for residential schools, and they continue to employ many lawyers who delay the settlement of claims for abuse at government-funded schools. How can a conversation about reconciliation take place if all involved do not adopt an attitude of humility and respect?
Divisions within the Canadian society also pose a challenge. The churches and religious organizations are divided. Canadian society is divided along political lines, which makes communication complex and frustrating. If the Aboriginal political network would collaborate, could we not request Canadian politicians and the churches to do the same?
The potential for new ways of relating to each other is most likely to be experienced in a sharing circle. Within this circle, the role of the listener is to recognize and accept differences. Verbalization gives the speaker a place in the community to speak his or her truth. Others, who sit in participatory silence, gain an understanding of themselves as they hear the stories of fear, strength, and hope. Charles Villa-Vicentio writes about James Cone, a Black-American theologian, who suggests that “it is perhaps only by sharing our stories?… that we can hope to transcend the boundaries of our past and reach toward a shared future.”6 We all have stories to tell and in order to grow in tolerance and understanding we must listen to the stories of others.
The respectful act of circle sharing enables us to recognize and transcend our differences. Circle gatherings provide a process for discovering the points of convergence of our visions for the future and our shared humanity. The occasions of consensus could lead to changes in the schools our children attend. The curriculum may be enriched because we come to a place of agreeing that Aboriginal history, wisdom, and culture will have a place in all schools in Canada, and that all students will experience each other’s stories. This process is rarely offered in educational programs in Canada, and Aboriginal schools are often tied so closely to a provincial curriculum that there is no room for Aboriginal content.
The use of stories is a natural way to enable community-building, and this is about reconciliation. H. Richard Niebuhr writes:
where common memory is lacking, where men [sic] do not share in the same past there can be no real community, and where community is to be formed common memory must be created. . . . The measure of our distance from each other in . . . our groups can be taken by noting the divergence, the separateness and the lack of sympathy in our social memories. Conversely, the measure of our unity is the extent of our common memory.7
This quotation also implies the sharing of truths. We strive to understand each other’s truth by being attentive to the stories and, in turn, we trust that our story will be respectfully received. In the truth and reconciliation conversation we are invited to avoid aggressive and adversarial behaviour as we share in a common task.
Prospects and Challenges for Reconciliation
The Elders have taught that in the circle that is our life journey, we begin as infants living in total dependence on those around us. Our family provides warmth, safety, and food—our very survival depending on the loving care that maintains our life.
The second stage of our development as children and youth is a powerful drive for independence. Identity is linked to self-determination and a desire for self-sufficiency. It is a concept in modern society that is developed into statements about individual rights. The rights of individuals are enshrined in the American Constitution, and they are also central to many of the United Nations’ declarations about human rights.
Our circle of life teachings point to a third level of development, which is interdependence. This life phase encompasses the work of adults who take responsibility for the care of the whole community. Interdependence is the basis for tribal community strength. It is guided by the wisdom of the Elders in the struggle for balance between independence, which is about individual rights and interdependence, which is about communal rights.
The effect of reserve life over the past fifty years has created havoc for our development as Aboriginal communities. The limited land base, along with the decline of opportunities to hunt and fish, has meant insufficient food supplies in isolated communities. The Canadian government responded to the situation by introducing social assistance and a new concept called “unemployment.” All of this is about creating a state of dependency and social disintegration. Canadian society speaks with pride about a social safety net that cares for the poor. There has been very little discussion about a history of injustice that created poverty or the fact that welfare is a simple method of maintaining people in poverty in order to preserve the status quo.
Canadian and global developments are increasingly about individual rights. The education and training of our youth is often about economic success, which is about aggressive individual accumulation of wealth. A common expression in Canadian society is, “They have made it!” Many Aboriginal people get drawn into meeting societal expectations wherein individual wealth determines the value of a person. This is an issue that will challenge the conversations about reconciliation. We remain the poorest of Canadians, and some of us carry the teachings of sharing and caring in the midst of our economic marginalization. Is it feasible for us to engage in conversations about reconciliation with a society that promotes aggressive, adversarial behaviour to promote individual wealth?
Three years ago I was invited to the Qu’Appelle Valley in Saskatchewan. There was a gathering to discuss the meaning of treaty, and I learned many new perspectives about what it meant for me to be a treaty Indian in Canada. The primary contributor was the Elder from Treaty Number 4 who worked out of the Fort Qu’Appelle office. The stories about the negotiations and eventual signing of Treaty Number 4 were enlightening.
As I remember it, this is what I was told. The treaty party, representing the British Crown, arrived in Fort Qu’Appelle and invited the leaders from Aboriginal nations to gather for talks. A few Aboriginal people came, talked briefly, and then left for a few days. The treaty party was rather impatient with the delay, but later many of the Aboriginal leaders returned to continue the meeting. One of their first discussions was about the involvement of their cousins in the treaty-making process. But these were people defined by the government representatives as Métis, and they were excluded despite protests from the Aboriginal leaders.
The story about the delay in the gathering was that the Aboriginal leaders had gone for a few days of ceremony and prayer before beginning serious discussions. The treaty talks were about sharing the sacred land, and that required prayerful preparation. The treaty negotiations were understood to be tripartite. The talks involved the Creator, the Queen’s representatives, and the Aboriginal peoples.
I can remember hearing as a young child about “the spirit of the treaty.” While I did not know entirely what that was about, I did know that legalistic interpretations were very inadequate, and it was about more than the payment of five dollars annually. In the conversations following our learning about the Treaty Number 4 negotiations, people from the churches who were part of the gathering described the treaty-making process as creating a covenant.
I have studied three definitions of covenant:
- A formal agreement or treaty between two parties with each assuming some obligation.
- An agreement imposed by a greater power on a lesser one, including a demand for loyalty and an obligation to protect on the part of the more powerful.
- An agreement between God and the people, such as the Sinai Covenant with the people of Israel following their escape from captivity in Egypt. The covenant identifies God and his saving acts. Ceremony includes the recitation of the treaty followed by a feast, and a copy of the treaty is placed in a container to remind everyone that breaking it is a crime against God.8
The Canadian experience of treaty-making includes aspects of the first three definitions. It is the second definition—an agreement imposed by a greater power on a lesser one with associated loyalties and obligations—that was most likely in the minds of the Queen’s representatives who wrote and signed the treaties. Canadian history texts also support the notion of an imposition of the treaties on Aboriginal peoples. I have read letters to the editor that take offence at any suggestion about Aboriginal rights being enshrined in the treaties and that state: “Get over it! You lost!”
It is clear that in Western Canada the numbered treaties were quickly negotiated in order to open the territories for orderly settlement. There were different understandings of what treaty-making was about one hundred and fifty years ago. I have described the Fort Qu’Appelle stories around Treaty Number 4 and the Aboriginal understanding of this being a sacred tripartite agreement. This difference can be understood as contrary to the understandings of Indian Superintendent Provencher who wrote in 1873:
Treaties may be made with them simply with a view to the extinction of their rights, by agreeing to pay them a sum, and afterwards abandon them to themselves. On the other side, they may be instructed, civilized and led to a mode of life more in conformity with the new position of this country, and accordingly make them good, industrious and useful citizens.9
The options being considered by the colonizing government were apartheid or cultural genocide. Maintaining small reserves with control over the movement of residents is clearly apartheid. Aboriginal people would be separated from Canadian society with a government bureaucracy to control every aspect of the lives of the “Indians.” This included the forbiddance of gathering for ceremonies and the requirement for “passes” to travel for employment or to visit off reserve. There was no clear determination as to whether the transformation proposed in the second option was feasible. Governments have wavered about how to civilize Aboriginal peoples. The arrangement for the churches to manage government-owned residential schools was a central part of option two. The churches saw this to be an excellent opportunity for reshaping the lives of children in captivity, away from the influence of their culture and community.
The residential school experience was for me an incarceration that limited my development as an independent and interdependent person. While in the residence, I was told what to wear, what to eat, and how to stand. I was given an identification number. In the classroom I was taught English and French. I was expected to memorize dates from British history texts. Leaving the residential school was traumatic because after years of being instructed I had very little confidence in my ability to make decisions. I had been made compliant and, in many ways, I was dependent like a young child. Back on the reserves, welfare was creating dependent communities without options. Students were leaving residential schools with low self-esteem and few prospects for successful reintegration into our communities, and the communities themselves were disintegrating because of poverty and loss of dignity.
The empirical evidence indicates that the closure of residential schools and the ending of the restrictions of our movement from reserves have not ended our dependence on colonial structures. Our substandard housing without adequate access to safe water drives large numbers of our relations to similar situations in urban ghettos. We have a high percentage of our population under the age of twenty-four, and the success rate for graduation from secondary schools is dismal. We are overrepresented in youth detention centres and prisons. Over forty per cent of our Aboriginal population living in urban areas have a low income, more than double the rate for non-Aboriginal people,10 and unemployment is rampant. Outstanding land claims continue to be delayed by complex bureaucracy. We witness self-destructive behaviour among the adults and youth, and young children attend schools where dreams are broken.
After all is said and done, I wonder if we have any rational justification for entering conversations with the Canadian society about reconciliation. Oh, I want the conversations to begin, but does the present context suggest that the talk would achieve the radical changes that support healing in the whole society? Can we give our energy to conversations about reconciliation while infant mortality in Aboriginal communities is three times the Canadian rate and while our youth suicide rate is six times higher than anywhere else in Canada?11
Forty years after the closure of residential schools, our struggle to create a community that is healing and hopeful about the future is very challenging. Realities suggest that we must strategize so that our engagement will be with segments of Canadian society where there is assurance that we can accomplish transformation.
Setting an Agenda for Reconciliation
The request from the Aboriginal Healing Foundation to write about reconciliation included the stipulation that articles should not be “how to” manuals, but I wonder what implications the continuing struggles of Aboriginal peoples have for the agenda? I humbly invite those who lead us into conversations to consider the following priorities and examine the institutional impediments that maintain the status quo:
a) Education: preschool to post-graduate;
b) Health: support for healthy living for the body, mind, and spirit including addressing addictions and moving from a colonial model of health care to one of Aboriginal control;
c) Social services: preventative service that function primarily as healing initiatives for families and communities rather than intervention and support;
d) Economy: sustainable resources and sustainable communities, including dismantling the concept of unemployment and ensuring a role for everyone;
e) Governance: examining and considering alternatives to the existing colonial models for reserve governance; and
f) Justice systems: peace-keeping and restitution as the road to healing as well as a quick resolution of outstanding land claims and shared resource management.
How can we operate creatively within existing structures? Restrictive rules and regulations hinder healing initiatives; the healing is often about liberation from historical captivity. Prescriptive impositions limit community response and may deny the vision for the future collaborative action that moves us toward reconciliation. The wisdom gathered by the Aboriginal Healing Foundation in its ten years of existence could be instructive in moving from Aboriginal healing to reconciliation of peoples. My personal agenda includes revisiting historic treaties to create discussion around our shared history and our common future. I grew up on the reserve knowing I was a treaty Indian. My identity was connected to a record of my number in Ottawa. I have recently come to understand the meaning of a tripartite agreement, and even if the presence of the Creator in treaty-making is not accepted, Canadian society is certainly a party to the treaty. We are all treaty people. We are committed to sharing life on this land, and all Canadians are participants in the benefits and responsibilities of maintaining the treaty. Treaty language promises that the agreements are for “as long as the sun shines, the grass grows and the rivers flow.” Treaties do not have a “best before date,” but they do need to be revisited so that the spirit may be kept alive in each generation. In the language of Christian tradition, it might be beneficial for the churches to sponsor discussions about what a new covenant looks like.
We are in need of involvement at the level of non-government organizations, with community animation projects and experiments in popular education. With an initiative that is about engendering justice and establishing right relations, the energy of youth could bring the process of healing to the communities. Less emphasis on a managed strategy is a suggestion for two reasons. First, the established education centres are generally so caught up in their existing curricula and approach to learning that they avoid community involvement. The advancement of individual learning has become the idolatry of education programs, and community development or healing is determined not to be worthy of mention in provincial curricula. Secondly, national programs for Aboriginal peoples and Canadian society must be flexible and relevant to diverse realities and experiences. The process which assists in the healing of body, mind, and spirit will require many creative approaches that are relevant to the diverse peoples in Canadian society. The involvement with us in Aboriginal nations is also complicated by our many cultures.
If the time is right for conversations about reconciliation, it might be an opportunity to hold a major event in Nunavut. The context there is about a move toward self-governance, and the population is focused on the vision of Aboriginal peoples. Another context for interesting dialogue would be territories in British Columbia where formal treaties have not yet been signed. In addition, the National Aboriginal Achievement Foundation could be consulted for its wisdom about fair representation of Aboriginal peoples from all territories and nations. The Foundation has established ways to interact with diverse groups of Aboriginal peoples across the land.
The Liberal Government of Canada was preparing The White Paper in 1968 when Prime Minister Trudeau said to Native leaders at a gathering in Ottawa,
What can we do to redeem the past? I can only say as President Kennedy said when he was asked about?… [the treatment of African Americans] “We will be just in our time. This is all we can do, we will be just today.”12
My response is that in order to be just today, we need knowledge of our shared history and of the legacy of injustice that continues to impair the healing of Aboriginal peoples.
Trudeau spoke to Native leaders again in 1973, saying, “Well, it looks like you’ve got more rights than I thought.”13 It was a surprising declaration. This may have been a moment when it would have been possible to begin conversations that address matters raised in this article. Thirty-five years later, with the convening of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, we have another opportunity to initiate meaningful conversations about reconciliation. We are motivated by the impact of residential schools on Canada. We can revisit the historic attitudes that shaped and continue to impact our societies. It is not about revising history. This conversation is about the present injustices and the possibilities for creative participation in shaping the future.
May the dialogue take place in the spirit of hope and with a courageous commitment to the justice and right relations that Art Solomon and many Elders have modelled with such integrity for generations yet unborn.
Stan McKay, a member of the Fisher River Cree Nation in Manitoba, is a spiritual leader, teacher, and activist. In 1971, he was ordained by the United Church, and between 1992 and 1994, he served as its first Aboriginal moderator. Stan is the recipient of numerous awards, including a National Aboriginal Achievement Award, and he has honorary doctorates conferred by the University of Waterloo, the University of Winnipeg, and United Theological College of McGill University. He was director of the Dr. Jessie Saulteaux Resource Centre in Beausejour, Manitoba, a theological school that respects both Christian and Aboriginal spiritual traditions. Along with fellow members of the National Native Council of the United Church, Stan successfully advocated for the Church’s apology, issued in 1986, for its role in cultural oppression of First Nations peoples.
In his contribution to this collection, Stan reflects on the nature of conversations about reconciliation. He weaves personal memory and social history into a vision of what these conversations might look like and include. Moving from dialogue to action, Stan suggests that the current ecological crisis provides an opportunity for cooperative action by Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people. He presents a world view that includes respect for the diversity found in the natural world alongside respect for human diversity.
Stan contends that there is a need for healing in Canadian society as a whole and not just among Aboriginal people. He advocates the telling of individual stories and respectful listening to the stories of others as a route to expand and transform the dialogue. Experiencing each other’s stories is one way to build a shared understanding of history.
While the overall tone of the article is hopeful, it does not shy away from the challenges involved. The reconciliation dialogue compromises the dismal social and economic conditions found in many Aboriginal communities. Stan asks if it is right to put energy into reconciliation when infant mortality and suicide rates are so high. He concludes by circling back to the need for conversations and the corresponding need for action: “This conversation is about the present injustices and the possibilities for creative participation in shaping the future.”↩
- Bird, John, Lorraine Land, and Murray MacAdam (eds.) (2002:199). Nation to Nation: Aboriginal Sovereignty and the Future of Canada. Toronto, ON: Irwin Publishing Inc. ↩
- Solomon, Arthur (1990:80). Songs for the People: Teachings on the Natural Way: Poems and Essays of Arthur Solomon. Compiled/edited by Michael Posluns. Toronto, ON: NC Press Limited. ↩
- Oxford Dictionary, Revised Edition (1996). ↩
- HarperCollins Bible Dictionary (1996). ↩
- Conversation with Arthur Solomon, Sudbury, Ontario, 1986. ↩
- Villa-Vicentio, Charles (1997:31). Telling One Another Stories. In Gregory Baum and Harold Wells (eds.), The Reconciliation of Peoples: Challenges to the Churches. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books. ↩
- Cited in Villa-Vicentio (1997:31). ↩
- Adapted from Harper Collins Bible Dictionary (1996). ↩
- Cited in Stanley, George F.G. (1961:216). The Birth of Western Canada. Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press. ↩
- Heisz, Andrew and Logan McLeod (2004). Low-income in Census Metropolitan Areas, 1980-2000. Ottawa, ON: Minister of Industry. Retrieved 15 January 2008 from: http://www.statcan.ca/english/research/89-613-MIE/2004001/89-613-MIE2004001.pdf ↩
- Health Canada (2002). Federal strategy on early childhood development for First Nations and other aboriginal children (retrieved 15 January 2008 from: http://www.hc-sc.gc.ca/ahc-asc/media/nr-cp/2002/2002_72bk1_e.html); Lemchuck-Favel, L. (1996). Trends in First Nations Mortality 1979–1993. Ottawa, ON: Health Canada. ↩
- Cited in Krotz, Larry (1990:158). Indian Country. Toronto, ON: McClelland & Stewart Inc. ↩
- Cited in Krotz (1990:158). ↩