In this lesson I say that our capacity for understanding or making meaningfulness from the first stories is seriously limited for numerous reasons and I briefly offer two reasons why this is so: 1) the social process of the telling is disconnected from the story and this creates obvious problems for ascribing meaningfulness, and 2) the extended time of criminal prohibitions against Indigenous peoples telling stories combined with the act of taking all the children between 5 – 15 away from their families and communities. In Wickwire’s introduction to Living Stories, find a third reason why, according to Robinson, our abilities to make meaning from first stories and encounters is so seriously limited. To be complete, your answer should begin with a brief discussion on the two reasons I present and then proceed to introduce and explain your third reason from Wickwire’s introduction.
Liberal arts education is founded on teaching students that there is a big difference between summarizing course material and interacting with or applying it. However, the word “understanding” incorporates both of these processes. I would argue that stories require a witness (be it a listener or reader) to engage in both forms of understanding—summary and interaction/application—in order to grasp the full “meaningfulness” of the story (Paterson).
Photo Credit: Denverlibrary.org. Story Time. Web.
In Lesson 2.2, Prof. Paterson explains how first stories, as told by West Coast First Nations, were told in the context of Potlatch. Potlatch provides a venue where stories are told through a “social process” (Paterson). In this way, witnesses can either affirm the credibility or challenge the authenticity of a story as it is told. Potlatch stories are significant in that many were used to publically (and democratically) affirm land claims and the distribution of resources. Indeed, according to Harry Robinson, land claims are established through stories (Wickwire 9).
However, laws forbidding these venues for story-telling violated the “ability [of First Nations] to voice or dispute the ownership rights inherent with the telling of stories” (Hanson n. pag. qtd. in Paterson). And these restrictions were further compounded by government-mandated residential schools that tore children away from their families, resulting in “seven generations” being severed from familial and cultural roots (Paterson). These factors combined to limit access to stories and interfere with the continuity of the stories being told.
Equally important to this discussion, is an argument found in Wendy Wickwire’s Living by Stories: A Journey of Landscape and Memory. In the introduction to this compilation of stories by Harry Robinson, Wickwire shares her journey of uncovering the meaning of stories. In particular, Wickwire explains how standard practice in anthropology contributed to misconceptions of Aboriginal culture and heritage. Wickwire explains that by “limit[ing] themselves to a single genre: the so-called ‘legends’, ‘folk-tales’, and ‘myths’ set in prehistorical times,” Aboriginal culture was presented as “static” and archaic (22). This process of editing and compiling records interfered with the integrity of stories by cutting out details for the purpose of concision and brevity (8). Editors took the liberty of merging different versions of the same story and cutting out references to authorship and place (8). Dictated by preconceived notions of what was deemed “‘authentic’ mythological accounts”, anthropologists recorded Aboriginal stories that did not paint a complete picture of the complexities of Aboriginal culture, including how land was assigned by story (9). Wickwire seems to suggest that best practice (in terms of story-telling) involves a process of listening, adding, and sharing, but not editing out or ignoring “anomalies” that don’t fit with our preconceived expectations (29).
Photo Credit: Christina, Greta. Scientific Method. Web.
To put it another way, Wickwire seems to be suggesting that story-telling and re-telling should be approached with the same precision and care that we use when engaging in research. True research begins with a question—and perhaps a hypothesis—but does not filter out data simply because it does not fit with a preconceived paradigm. True research requires us to listen to the data carefully: to analyze, interpret, and apply our research without misrepresenting our findings. It is the same with stories. If we approach life making assumptions about people and their stories, we will never “appreciate the full scope” of what stories or their tellers have to offer (29).
Photo Credit: Stahlmann, Jenny. Listen. Web.
From this discussion, it would seem that the oppression, maltreatment, and genocide of Canada’s First Nations, Inuit, and Metis could be attributed to the “us” and “them” narrative perpetuated by misrepresentative stories that were collected and published by anthropologists like Franz Boas. I wonder how different things would be if we spent more time actually listening, and less time filtering what we choose to hear. What do you think?
[Side note: I’m not suggesting that Franz Boas, or the other anthropologists, intentionally created this problematic system out of malicious intent.]
Works Cited
Paterson, Erica. “Lesson 2.2”. ENGL 470 Canadian Studies: Canadian Literary Genres May 2016. n.d. Web. 17 June 2016.
Wickwire, Wendy. Harry Robinson: Living by Stories, A Journey of Landscape and Memory. Vancouver: Talon Books, 2009. Print.
JuliaUllrich
June 18, 2016 — 10:36 am
I really enjoyed the comparison you made here to scientific investigation. You’re right, the way that they compile and document research without discounting anything that doesn’t fit into their desired conclusion is exactly what we should be going for with the investigation of stories as well. However, I wonder about your final thoughts on this question. These anthropologists are essentially trying to fit these stories into a specific genre: cutting and pasting where they must in order to achieve this. But I don’t agree that by doing this they are strengthening an ‘us and them’ mentality. I find it tough to believe that by not including ALL of the stories, as they have done, this would be enough to alienate the European and make both parties feel as an ‘other’. . . Although, I suppose I can see your point where, if these edits have been significant enough to make understanding the stories too difficult for an outsider, maybe this is a contributing factor.
janine fleming
June 23, 2016 — 1:56 pm
Hi Julia,
Thank you for your response. I’m so glad you took the time to challenge the position at the end of my blog. I agree that I don’t think editing stories is enough to create an “us” vs. “them” mentality. However, what I gather from Wickwire’s discussion is that editing stories is a concrete example of how our preconceived ideas can play into how we interpret stories. This process, because it affects the stories we re-tell, can become one factor adding to misunderstanding, misinterpretation, and misrepresentation of someone or something else… AKA: the “other”. I guess what I am wondering is if this process of editing contributes to (or perpetuates) the process of “othering”. I would argue that it does. It is not solely to blame, but I think that recognizing the role that stories can play in building bridges or creating distance is an important step towards reconciliation. Does that resonate with you? I would love to hear more of your thoughts.
J
Linda McNeilly Purcell
June 21, 2016 — 10:05 pm
Thank you for your summary and evaluation of the readings. One issue that you raised, that I would like to address, is the editing of Native stories that Wickwire writes about. I agree with what Lutz’ writes in Myth Understandings: First Contact, Over and Over Again: “Comparing indigenous and explorer accounts of the same meetings brings the collision of fundamentally different systems of thought into sharp relief” (2). The Newcomers expected to find a certain place, defined by certain stereotypes, and that is how they shaped both their own as well as the Native stories they heard. They carved and whittled the stories down to fit into the preconceived ideas they brought with them. This explains, (but does not justify) how the anthropologist’s belief determined what they would consider as valid versus “imbellable” (as Harry Robinson would say) story. This may have explained what occurred in the past, but as Lutz writes on page 1, contact stories are as much about today, as they are about the past. My question for you is, now that time has passed, and greater understanding is now available, do you think it is possible to re-introduce the censored Native stories, and have them accepted as truth?
(As a side note, if (in WordPress) you activate the plugin: Subscribe to Comments Reloaded 160115 (which can be found under plugins) then when people make comments, they can subscribe to be notified when the comments were responded to 🙂
janine fleming
June 23, 2016 — 2:15 pm
Hi Linda,
Thanks for the advice on the plugin. I’ve activated that feature now, so you’ll have to let me know if it works for you 🙂
If I understand your question correctly, I think you meant to say: “now that time has passed, and greater understanding is now available, do you think it is possible to re-introduce the UNcensored Native stories, and have them accepted as truth?”
It may be a bit pessimistic, but I doubt that our current ideologies would allow for re-introduced stories to be accepted as truth. As it stands, “truth” is linked to science, as dictated by our education system and culture.
However, when we look at the power of social media, I think we see a bit of a different story:perhaps a less fatalistic view. There have been a number of cases in the past few years where a story–as told by social media–has garnered credibility simply due to the vast number of people who subscribe to the idea. I suppose if “uncensored” Native stories were told through a forum that garnered public support, they could receive credibility through majority opinion. But if this would mean that they could be accepted as “truth”, I’m not sure. Perhaps by some?
I’m finding it a bit difficult to express this idea in words… but hopefully this answers your question? I’d love to hear what you think!
J
Linda McNeilly Purcell
June 26, 2016 — 12:25 am
Thank you for clarifying my question, and yes you are correct. It really is about re-introducing the uncensored stories.
I understand what you are saying, and I do think it would be a difficult task. First because many of the stories are lost.
However, I think the more we hear something, the easier it is to accept and believe it. For that reason I feel it is important to continue to share the stories.
Take care,
Linda
janine fleming
June 27, 2016 — 10:51 am
Yes, I agree. It the more stories are told, the more they tend to be accepted. I think it also depends on who is telling the stories and in what way. With the “right” people involved, I think it is entirely possible. 🙂
J
sean sturm
June 21, 2016 — 10:23 pm
Hi Janine,
I must say that I can’e agree more with your comment on the ‘cutting and pasting’ of aboriginal histories into narratives that fit within the “acceptable” forms deemed to be representative of the cultures they were studying. In my opinion, this is just a small example of the overarching problems that plagued the early, and ongoing, interactions between European colonists and indigenous peoples all over the world. The desire to categorize different cultures and peoples, who were often deemed to be inferior, certainly lead to a situation that can only be described as “us and them”. I do agree that listening is one key step to better understanding the First Nation oral histories, but I think a further mind-shift towards trying to understand those traditions, and ultimately recognizing them as valid, is what needs to happen. My question for you is do you think that this is even possible given past interactions between these two groups? If it is possible, or not, what do you think this would look like?
janine fleming
June 23, 2016 — 3:26 pm
Hi Sean,
Thanks for your comments and question. That’s a tricky one to answer. I think what lies at the heart of this issue is asking ourselves that all important question: “What is at stake?”
By this I mean that before I can answer your question, I think we should consider what is at stake (and for whom) if a shift in thinking is made? In order for Western culture to recognize other traditions, stories, histories, and cultures as valid, what needs to happen, what would “we” need to relinquish?
In this case, I think that there are embedded consequences, related to power dynamics that come from recognizing aboriginal stories as valid.
The best illustration (that I can think of) is in looking at the example of land claims. According to many of the narratives referred to in Wickwire’s introduction, indigenous land claims are connected to stories. However, story-derived land claims undermine the laws and systems that currently define property ownership in this country. So, if indigenous stories are accepted as “truth”, there would be a clash in both ideology and practice. I don’t see a clash in ideologies as being a hurdle to co-existing; but practice is a different story all together. If an indigenous story validates a claim to land that is currently owned in accordance with Canadian law, who has the right to the land? How would this dispute be resolved?
Realistically, I’m not hopeful of a peaceful resolution.
So I guess my answer is, no: given Canada’s current cultural, political, and economic policies, I don’t think it is possible on a practical level to fully validate both views.
But, I would welcome your thoughts. Perhaps you can shed a more optimistic light on the subject?
J
Minkyo Kim
June 22, 2016 — 3:55 pm
Thanks for the wonderful post Janine Fleming. I discussed the same question in my blog but I have loved your response and details. I have come to realize that stories are not static. They breathe and change over time. However, the only acceptable change in any story is the change that keeps the story’s essence and meaning. That’s undisputable. The only problem arises in the nature of the story. Wickwire claims that Robinson had a right to incorporate twists from other people’s stories into his own provided he did not “tamper with storylines or fictionalize any part of a story.” This claim tells us that if the core parts of a story remain unaltered, then nothing is wrong with the final product or the change it has gone through. The problem with this approach is in the fact that successive changes may end up altering a story completely. How far can such changes be incorporated into a story to be still considered acceptable? We all know that the simple information in a story can convey important details such as the mood. If these are easily and willingly altered, what are we supposed to get from the new story?
janine fleming
June 23, 2016 — 3:36 pm
Hi Minkyo,
I took a look at your blog as well (although I don’t think I left a comment). I appreciated your views on the text.
As to your question about stories, I suppose the answer would lie in looking at the purpose of the story. For Robinson, stories were made to change with time because they were used to reflect current views in relation to past tradition. In this way, stories have to adapt to accomplish their purpose.
However, I think the key to this process is what Wickwire observed through going through the discipline of listening to Robinson’s stories. In the introduction, Wickwire talks about listening over and over to Robinson’s stories. Through this process of familiarizing herself with the stories and their teller, Wickwire was better equipped to uncover the inherent purpose of the stories. Through this, the changes that she chose to make (if she chose to make them) would be changes to the details and not to the overall meaning or “essence” of the story.
So, I guess, your claim may have to come with a caveat: if a story is to be personalized, it’s true essence can only be preserved if it is really understood to begin with.
J