Under One Roof

I was recently given a gift by someone I have known for a long time.  She was visiting in Ottawa and came across a unique item.  It was a small green and bronze pin in the shape of a maple leaf.  Intrigued, I read the card inside the plastic sleeve that protected the pin.

The Ottawa-Carleton Association for Persons with Developmental Disabilities (OCAPDD) had created these pins as a fundraising idea.  The pins were crafted with the help of people with developmental disabilities from the original copper which covered the roofs of Canada’s Parliament Buildings from 1918 to 1996.  The campaign is called Under One Roof.

My first impression was that this was a very creative idea that someone had to reuse some of the copper.  Of course, the pin is green because the copper oxidized long ago.  Copper is a metal which was mined here in Canada and was once so cheap that our pennies were made of it.  Once the copper in pennies was worth more than one cent, pennies disappeared.  Copper is now quite valuable. Copper is sacred to many Indigenous Peoples in this land we now call Canada.  A copper vessel is used to hold water during Indigenous Water Walks and Water Ceremonies.

I got to thinking about the name of the campaign: Under One Roof.  I suppose that means that the Parliament Buildings represent a building that “houses” all of us.  Perhaps the creators of the campaign were thinking about how people with development disabilities are often left outside of the mainstream and this was an attempt at inclusivity.  That is certainly a worthwhile sentiment.

But, then I thought about the dates for the roof.  It was put on the Parliament Buildings in 1918 at the end of the First World War. According to the Canadian Encyclopedia  the original Parliament Buildings opened on June 6, 1866 a year before Confederation.  However, on Feb 3, 1916 a fire destroyed the buildings except for the library.  So, I imagine that the copper roof was put on the completed building in 1918.

The idea of Under One Roof kept niggling at me.  Were we really all under one roof.  What about the original and longstanding people who are indigenous to this land?  Were they under this roof?  The more history that I read, the more I come to understand that the land was taken away from them through “treaties”.  The Royal Proclamation of 1763 stated that no land could be transferred from Indigenous Peoples to anyone else except through a treaty with the Crown.  That means that as Canadians, these treaties were made by our governments to procure land for settlers to occupy.  That makes non-Indigenous people, treaty people.  We are represented by the governments’ side of the treaties. 

This can be quite a disturbing thought.  After all, we are finding out that the governments by and large did not act honourably or in good faith.  The land was taken, but what the governments agreed to give in return was often not in fact given.  For example, in the area where I live, the Williams Treaty of 1923 was only just honoured a few years ago with a government payment of the original debt.  And this only happened after years of legal action by the Indigenous treaty members.

The roof of the Parliament Buildings was taken down in 1996 which is coincidentally the year when the last Indian Residential School in Canada, the Gordon Indian Residential School, in Saskatchewan was closed.  I thought about all the Indigenous children who died in those schools and who were abused in ways that they carried for the rest of their lives and that their descendants still carry through intergenerational trauma.  The decisions to try to “take the Indian out of the child”, were made under that roof.  Perhaps it’s good that it was taken down.  All kinds of decisions were made under that roof that were harmful and dishonourable.

The website description reads “ Welcome to Under One Roof the home of heritage souvenirs that celebrate our country’s rich history while preserving part of one of our most treasured Canadian symbols.”  It is true.  The Parliament Buildings of Canada are symbolic of Canada.  I have seen them on paper money.  It is where people go to celebrate and to protest.  Some would argue that we have democracy whereas other countries do not.  Some would compare us to the US and say that we’re not as bad as them.

But what if we want to live in a way that is not shadowed in shame and propping up an image that is false? I would like to dissociate myself from the things that happened in that Parliament but the truth is, we are all treaty people.  I would like to think that all the bad things were done in the past and I have no part in it.  However, bad things are still being done by the government.  Clean drinking water is not available to the people on many reserves, children are still being taken away from their parents by the child welfare system, there is a lack of safe housing, and the list goes on and on and on.  What do we do as treaty people? 

I have read more than one Indigenous author who says, non-Indigenous people are smart.  They will figure out how to do the right thing.  So many of us just feel bad about the past, feel helpless, feel guilty and then give up.  We don’t want to be treaty people.  We think that it is a choice we have.  Indigenous people are treaty people.  They don’t have a choice about that.  The Indian Act (1876) is still in effect.

How do non-Indigenous people reconcile themselves with the truth of how we came to be on this land that we call home?  It is only when we start to understand who we are as Canadians that we will understand our responsibilities and know what to do.  Politicians follow our lead.  That’s what polling is all about.  If a lot of us wanted something to happen, it would.  That’s democracy.

Perhaps the mixture of seemingly contradictory emotions is just what is feels like to be on the failing side of a treaty.  There is the pride of being part of the dominant side, the shame of being on the “wrong” side, the confusion of a shifting story from being the “good guy” to the “bad guy”. And it goes on.  We have a lot to figure out.  But we are figuring it out with clean drinking water, warm homes, jobs and kids who believe they have a future.  We are privileged, whether we understand this or not and yes, we are smart.  We can figure this out.  We can do the right thing.  We can change the story.

So, when I wear my green maple leaf pin, it will remind me that I am a treaty person.  I wear part of the Parliament Buildings on my lapel to remind me of that.  To remind me that we should all be under one roof.  To help me figure out what I can do to change the story.

From the Ground Up -- Regenerative Agriculture

Here is a thirteen minute film that visits large farms in South East New South Wales in Australia.  Land that has been overgrazed and degraded since the settlement of Europeans is being brought back to life by innovative farmers. 

Filmmaker Amy Browne visited this dry farming country to meet with Charles Massey who brought a simple technology observed in Africa, to the land in Australia.  Researchers found that huge grazing herds of African wildlife were good for grasslands because they were constantly on the move.  This allowed the grass to recover from their presence and probably benefit from their droppings.  Massey wrote Call of the Reed Warbler to share his ideas and other farmers are now using rotational grazing paddocks which turn out to be good for the land as well as the bottom line for the farmers.  Some of them describe how they feel bad about their past farming practices and have realized that they have to care for the land or it can’t care for them.  

This is a hopeful film to watch because you can see the differences in the two kinds of management and how relatively simple it was to achieve.  They call this Regenerative Agriculture as opposed to taking from the land until it can no longer give.  These practices offer much hope on a large scale.   These farmers are writing a new story in grass and trees.

 It is so encouraging to find out that people all over the world are coming up with solutions.  Just because they aren't on the evening news does not make them less important.  Of course healthy grasslands are not as compelling as the antics of some world leaders, but then again, those grasslands will still be there when those leaders are not.  Take a look for yourself:

A Reforestation Revolution

Tree Sisters describes itself as “a global network of women who donate monthly to fund the restoration of our tropical forests as a collective expression of planetary care.”  TreeSisters partners with local environmental groups who then fund local women to grow, plant and protect trees in the tropics.  These tree planting jobs enable the women to take care of their families and communities so that everyone benefits.  I am a TreeSister and I recently got an exciting email about a new project in the Amazon rainforest.  I have copied the email here: This has been a long time coming; a dream held since the beginning of TreeSisters. Finally, we are supporting custodians of the Amazon rainforest to restore and protect their land and ecosystem. This has never felt more important, given everything that Indigenous Peoples are facing within the political chaos of Brazil. We are able to add this project because of you and your support. That means the world. Thank you so, so much for your commitment to our shared work. As a TreeSisters Restorer, we want to introduce you to this new project and share with you the positive impact your donations are having. We hope you find this email full of inspiring information.

Why we are funding planting in the Amazon rainforest The current situation in the Amazon is urgent. The world’s largest tropical forest is under pressure from irresponsible development, deforestation and fires. The Ashaninka’s indigenous territory is one of the last remaining tropical Intact Forest Landscapes on Earth, and one of the most biodiverse areas of the Amazon. It is important for TreeSisters to support a project which enables the guardians of the forest to keep the forest intact, whilst supporting the exemplary life they yearn to live. The Ashaninka started replanting 14 years ago; they know what is needed and they know how to do it. Support from TreeSisters will enable them to become more economically self-sufficient and resilient, in the face of pressure for land and economic interests.

Top and bottom left, far right photos by Aquaverde

The positive impact your donations will have in Amazonia One of the Ashaninka’s spiritual leaders, Shaman Benki Piyako, designed the forest garden project that TreeSisters supports. The project will provide a sustainable, nutritious lifestyle for over 1,000 indigenous people and non-indigenous locals living in Marechal Thaumaturgo. The forest garden spans 10 hectares of deforested land. The goal is to plant 50,000 native fruit trees from 2020 to 2022. Funding this project will directly create reforestation jobs, and provide agroforestry training for 70 people. In addition, an awareness program will be set up that will include Indigenous People from other parts of the Amazon and non-indigenous surrounding communities. Ultimately, the trees planted in this project will improve the lives and health of the surrounding communities, help to sustain the Ashaninka's cultural, traditional and spiritual values while reducing deforestation in the Amazon. I came across a video from a Listening Session in England (in a different email) that featured among others, Shaman Benki Piyako who designed the forest garden project.  You can hear him speaking here: Through working together and sharing our resources, projects such as these become possible.  It is fairly easy to set up a monthly donation which allows TreeSisters to make partnerships with people in other parts of the world.  You can also make a one time donation.  It is like the mother trees in the forest sharing resources through the fungal network in the forest floor to support the younger trees.  In certain parts of the world, women have financial resources.  Through the network of the internet, we can share those resources with people far away so that they can reforest areas that in fact support the whole world with oxygen while they take carbon out of the air, thus supporting the climate.  A number of extremely dedicated people are building these networks and making it easy for us to participate.  There is something that can be done to give back to Earth, to be reciprocal, to be restorative.  Check out more stories or become a Tree Sisters  and be a part of this new story.

Listening to the Stories of the Land

We went for a walk on Hallowe’en evening through the streets of our little town.  Kids don’t come to our house at the end of a long dark driveway and I wanted to experience some of the excitement of the event.  Some of our neighbours go to great lengths with multiple blow up Hallowe’en ghosts, witches, pumpkins and other scary creatures.  One house played scary music and sounds through a loud speaker.  The kids had to walk past a fake cemetery to get to the front door.  We saw cute little unicorns, princesses, ninja’s and some costumes that we couldn’t identify.  It was cold and a little rainy but that didn’t dampen the spirits of children who rushed from house to house with pillowcases and bags growing heavier with each visit.  The parents seemed to move together in a group and so we joined them and laughed at the antics. Our feet crunched the acorns that covered the sidewalk by the park with the Red Oaks and the fallen Maple leaves swirled in the occasional gusts of wind.

Sharon Blackie

It got me thinking about where Hallowe’en comes from.  The date, is the ancient Celtic New Year of Samhain (pronounced Saw-when) which was around October 31^st.  According to Celtic scholar, Sharon Blackie , it was a time for honouring the ancestors.  It was at this time that the Celts believed that the veil between this world and the Other world became thin.  For Blackie, Samhain is above all a Trickster time, a time when surprises happen to invite a shift, transformation and growth.  I had been listening to a podcast in which she discussed this with Welsh teacher Angharad Wynne.  In their conversation, they discussed how the Christianization of the British Isles had tried to make the old ways and knowledge disappear.  

Angharad Wynne

Over the years, the gods of the land became smaller and were turned into leprechauns and elves.  The goddesses of the land became fairies, while the old wise women were demonized and turned into witches.  But even after a few thousand years I could still see the remnants of the ancient festival all around me.

And so, it seemed timely or maybe just coincidental that later in the night of Hallowe’en, a mighty wind swept through our town, as well as in many other places.  We awoke dark and early the next morning to the sound of a roaring wind in the tall trees.  The power was out and I got ready for work in the dark, had a cold breakfast and headed out to the city.  Driving through the blackened town, my headlights illuminated leaves billowing and scuttling madly down the road in front of me.  As soon as I got on the highway, I discovered driven snow, the kind that looks like a Star Wars movie in your high beams.  However, I was the only car on the road and I took my time.  After a while, other cars joined me and we made our way to Barrie, where I got on a GO train to the city where it was merely raining lightly.

When I returned home that night, the power was still out and my partner was making supper on the camp stove in the workshop.  He informed me that one of our docks has come loose in the storm and was now floating beside the rock and wood crib that it used to sit upon.  It is cold and now November, so wading in the water is no longer an option.  Disaster!

After a quiet night with the gas fire, candles and playing our instruments we went to bed.  The hydro crews were outside with flashing lights, still trying to get the power back.  Our next door neighbour’s generator was loud and it’s unfamiliar groaning made it was hard to sleep.

The power returned sometime in the middle of the night.  It was pretty exciting to have power again after 24 hours.  Good news!  The wind had died down.  The sun was up.  We had to decide how to story this event.  Was it a disaster?  What if instead, we said that the North Wind and the West Wind got together and decided to blow out the old, making space for the new.  The cedars had shed their rusty brown needles and the maples were bare of leaves now.  What if the wind had something to teach us? 

After a hot breakfast and coffee, we went down to our dock to survey the changes.  I almost wrote damage, but decided against using that word.  A big Manitoba Maple had fallen down across the right of way so we had to go through our neighbour’s yard to get to our property.  The rebel part of the dock was chained to a tree in it’s new position thanks to my partner’s efforts the day before.  The water had risen so high that it had flooded my garden.  This garden is designed to look like a giant turtle.  It seemed that the turtle had had a chance to swim!  The water had receded but the garden was now covered in organic matter.  It seems like the lake has mulched my garden for the winter.  There were logs and bits of wood all over the garden.  I stacked the wood against the shed and cleaned up the big stuff.  I will clear whatever doesn't decay, in the spring.

I suggested that we bring our creativity to this situation.  After talking through a variety of solutions, we have decided to pull the dock apart and stack the wood against the shed.  In the spring as nature bursts into life, we will decide what to create with this lumber. Being creative always makes us feel good.  In fact, my partner already has some new ideas.

The interesting thing about our dock is that it was built on the stone and wood cribs that used to support a boat house.  We repaired and built docks on top of them about five years ago.  Last year we had two storms that moved the other side of the dock.  After the second storm, we pulled it all apart and rebuilt it to be stronger.  That side held firm in this storm.  The side of the dock that moved was not damaged last year.  Pre-emptively, this year, we added another layer to the dock and a heavy wooden shade structure.  We thought that the added weight would prevent it from floating away.  But not so.

It reminded me of the structures that are in place in this country.  Many of them are very colonial.  Rather than changing them, we just build more structures on top of the old ones thinking that that will work.  Perhaps, they too need to be dismantled and rebuilt using creativity.

Later that day, we walked along the shoreline.  The properties that face west had been subjected to much more force during the storm.  Some old boathouses had been pummeled into lumber.  Quite a number of boats had washed in from across the bay.  Lumber, styrofoam and plastic things were everywhere.  We realized that we had gotten off easy.  My partner noticed that things built in straight lines had been damaged while only a few trees had come down.  The areas of the shoreline that were covered in trees did very well.  However, in one spot, the Township had cleared the trees, put in paving stones and a bench to provide a nice look out and a set of stairs to get down to the water’s edge.  The wind and the waves had eroded a major portion of the shoreline here.  The stairs lay in pieces and the paving stones were no longer totally supported by the ground.  What a difference the trees make to shoreline stabilization. 

So, if we were to see the winds as evil, malicious and out to get us, we would tell the story of man made structures being attacked and destroyed by Nature.  What if we listen with different ears?  What if we tell the story that the North Wind, or maybe it was the West wind, or maybe a marriage of the two, brought in a new energy, brought in the next season.  They shook all the dead leaves and needles from the trees back to Earth where they will return to the soil.  They gave energy to the water which rose and crashed, showing all the weak spots in the human’s designs and hubris.  Just as the leaves will return to their basic elements, so our dock will be dismantled into boards and screws.  We will store them under a tarp and in the spring, just as the season changes again, we will rebuild our dock and make it stronger and more beautiful than before. 

It could have been so much worse.  Our dock could have floated out into the lake and become someone else’s dock, but somehow it simply moved to the right and nestled into a new place where we can still access it.

In listening to the land, a story emerges of returning to the elements, a story of us as creative and able to respond to change.  To return the old dock to its crib would mean big machines or many men freezing in the water.  There is no need to disturb the lake bottom or risk making people sick.  It is only a dock.  We made it and we can unmake it and remake it.  The land is our teacher.  She reminds us who we are.

People like Sharon Blackie and Angharad Wynne are researching the old ways from Celtic and Welsh history.  They say that for most of time, the people there knew how to live on the land and it is for a relatively short period of time that this has been lost.  Wynne feels that we have stretched our relationship with the land so far that it will now snap or it will pull us back. People are looking for their connection to the land and to their own centres and to all beings. 

Beth Brant, A Generous Spirit

Both Blackie and Wynne believe that the land holds the stories and tells them to those who know how to listen.  They are once again listening to the land of the British Isles.  Here in Ontario where I live, the Anishinaabe and Haudenosaunee people have been listening for thousands of years and they have a rich tradition of sacred stories.  When I hear some of these stories that they share, they inform me about how to live on this land.  Tragically, though, the European colonization of the land we now call Canada took almost everything from these First Peoples; land, children, culture, health, language.  The stories and traditions they have protected are theirs to tell and share.  Mohawk writer, Beth Brant writes in A Generous Spirit: Selected Work by Beth Brant that non-Indigenous people should access something that comes from their own DNA rather than appropriating the stories of the First Peoples.

And so when I learn about my own pre-Christian ancestors from the British Isles and their connection to the land and the water, I wonder what does live in my DNA.  Do I have the ability to listen to the land for the stories that need to be heard at this time in history?  Or will I continue to impose old Christian concepts to this place. 

Tomson Highway

Cree playwright and musician, Tomson Highway, in his talk, Comparisons of Mythologies, points out that the monotheistic religions of Judaism, Christianity and Islam all come from desert countries.  These religions have travelled all over the world taking the stories that came out of a desert.  The Romans adopted these stories and made Christianity a state religion.  So, when they colonized my ancestors, they brought those stories and tried to have them overtake the old ones.  And yet they persist.  On Hallowe’en or Samhain, I saw them on the streets of my town, here in Ontario.  Despite thousands of years of effort, we still celebrate this festival, albeit in an unconscious way.

As we walked back home from our survey of the “changes”, the light rain falling on our raincoats and hoods, we heard an old familiar sound.  Sandhill cranes!  If you don't know what they sound like, just take a moment to listen here:

 Throwing our hoods off and craning our necks, we searched the sky and were rewarded by the sight of about eighty of them flying high in a series of V’s.  Their long legs trailing behind and their long wings gracefully flapping, they called to each other as they headed south.  Yes, it is time to do that.  We only see the cranes if we are lucky as they migrate through in the spring and the fall, so sightings are special treats.
   

In looking for a video to show you, I  learned that these wet land birds are adaptable, communicative, and that they dance!  They teach us how to adapt, communicate and celebrate life.  If we had stayed with the old story of Nature being against us, we could well have missed the call of these beautiful birds and all that they had to teach us.   In fact, a man very close by, did miss them he burned debris.  So. here is the video I found made by two people who are passionate about Sandhill Cranes.  Our sighting felt like a big gift to us and I want to share that gift with you.