Upon reading the story of Coyote’s twin brother, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to this first story I had heard about Coyote; A Coyote Columbus Story by Thomas King. For those not familiar, King satirizes the “First Encounter” story of Columbus, by utilizing Coyote’s trickster ways to protect her land and people from the clownish Christopher Columbus. I often consider this story to be my “First Encounter”. I heard it for the first time in a first-year English course at Okanagan College. Up until that point, my education on the various Indigenous cultures and stories of Canada had been glaringly sparse, not that I’m hubristic enough to say that they’re any better now. Beyond learning about Residential Schools in High school, and a few horribly cartoonish colouring pages in eighth grade, Indigenous narratives were always treated as an afterthought. Something we had to learn about, but definitely weren’t going to be spending a lot of time on.
This tangent about A Coyote Columbus Story may seem like a strange sequitur, but it’s something that has been on my mind during our readings and this course. I have often wondered why it took so long to be aware of these stories, given that my parents grew up in a city with a high Indigenous population, and my Grandmother even spent time growing up on a reserve, you’d think somewhere I would have heard these stories. But then I read what Harry said to Wendy when he thought he was dying. Wickwire writes, “it was a relief that Harry had expected me to listen to his stories many times before drawing any conclusions. He stressed that they contained hidden messages and connections that would take time to decipher” (Robinson, Wickwire 19), causing me to realize that it wouldn’t have mattered if I had heard Coyote’s story before, because I had no reason to make meaning of it before.
As touched on in previous posts, the world of literature and story are often kept in separate spheres. I once had a friend scoff at me when I excitedly told him I was taking a course at UBCO titled: Superhero Narratives. His British sensibilities clearly offended he asked, “Why aren’t you studying Shakespeare?” His perception of what “worthwhile” literature is, was stagnant, and there wasn’t any argument that I could make in one conversation to change that. For me, these narratives held meaning because I studied them, and read them over and over again, to draw meaning and connection. Just like I would with any Shakespearean work.
Which brings me back to the story of Coyote’s twin brother. I’ve read over this passage a few times, hoping to find a definite answer. I can see the allegory; British colonizers used the fact that their laws and documents were written in a foreign language to the Indigenous peoples they encountered to unfairly, but to British sensibilities “legally”, dominate the land and its people. Perhaps that is the important paper that the twin stole, but even as I write this, it feels wrong to commit on answer to this question. It’s as Harry states:
“but if I tell you, you may not understand.
I try to tell you many times
But I know you didn’t got ‘em…” (Robinson, Wickwire 18).
I feel like I don’t have enough understanding to confidently put forth an answer. Not one that I’m happy with at least. And I acknowledge that any answer I formulate now, may very well change by the end of this course, or even years from now, as I come back to this story.
I remember visiting Head Smashed In Buffalo Jump with my family one summer when I was around ten. While there my parents were chatting with a guide who was an older Indigenous
man. When he found out we were from Red Deer, he proceeded to tell is the story about how the city was named. Basically, the European settlers had mistakenly identified the Mule deer that roamed around the riverbanks as Red deer, even though that species of deer had never been found in that area. Now, the misidentified animal marks all city logos, and can be spotted on the sign entering the city limits. My narrative understanding of my city changed that day, and I recall the man’s story every
time I enter the city limits. That’s why it is so important to have an interactive relationship with the narratives we encounter, because you never know what piece of information you gain or what connection you make, could change its entire meaning for you.
Works Cited
Robinson, Harry, and Wendy Wickwire. Living by Stories a Journey of Landscape and Memory.
Talonbooks, 2005.
Hi Holly,
I really appreciate your answer – or rather non-answer – to this question. I think you are absolutely right in your comment that it can be dangerous, or at least self-complacent, to have inflexible narratives of the world around us. If we are not willing to change what we think, our thinking stagnates. Furthermore, I would add that there are some things that maybe we simply cannot come to a satisfactory understanding of, no matter how hard we try. Sometimes, we have to exist in what John Keats calls negative capability: the capacity to live in the the unknowns, and the relinquishing of the need to understand. Perhaps it simply is not meant for us, or perhaps we must learn to find beauty in ambiguity.
I also wanted to touch on your comment about Native narratives being an afterthought in our school curriculum. I think that you are absolutely right on that count. However, I was fortunate enough that at my elementary school, we would regularly have Indigenous story-tellers come to our classrooms, and I have vivid memories of them telling us the story of Coyote, as well as of the Raven. And yet, despite this, I still find myself painfully unaware of Indigenous myth and story; there is still so much I don’t know. In fact, I remember the aura being rather flippant during these story telling sessions – none of us really paid attention, and the teachers weren’t really interested in enforcing what we had learned later. I still remember so many of the books I read in elementary school, so why can’t I remember the Native stories? I suppose what I am trying to get at is a question; do you have any thoughts about what adequate Indigenous education would look like in a school setting?
Hey Victoria,
This is a great question, and a difficult one to navigate. I think largely when it comes to looking at Indigenous education we perhaps shouldn’t be looking at quantitative amount, but rather the intent behind it. In my opinion when we’re teaching this part of history and culture to check off a box, we’re missing the point. That’s why I think it’s really important for schools to create partnerships with their local Indigenous communities to create programs that more fully encompass the heart of the “why” we learn about their cultures.
Hopefully that makes sense! Thanks again for the question.
Hello Holly,
The reference you made to your hometown within your blog post this week was a wonderful way to connect with Robinson’s idea of living with a story for a while to truly understand it. A lot of our classmates this week made mention of the importance of listening. It has been reminding me of a quote from ‘Definitely, Maybe’. For context, the character is discussing her reading of Jane Eyre: “I read it every year or two. Each time it’s different. It tells me different things”. This is how I always felt with stories – I could not get the whole picture reading it only once. Making meaning – like you mention – does indeed take time, and as you also said “and interactive relationship with the narratives we encounter”. And once the meaning of something has changed – like your understanding of the name of your town – it cannot be seen the same way again (kind of like once a story is out in the world it cannot be taken back).
Your approach to this answer – as Victoria mentioned – hits perfectly on the idea of the unknown. We can place our own experiences towards determining what the piece of paper could mean, bringing our stories into a meeting point with Robinson’s, shaping the story to fit our views. However, we must understand that our story is not the only story; there are many possible intersections.
One final thought, your comment that it “wouldn’t have mattered if I [you] had heard Coyote’s story before, because I [you] had no reason to make meaning of it before” really drew attention to the importance of having prior knowledge of something in order to make meaning. This is a topic of great interest with educators these days, stressing the importance of context in comprehending a text or story. Part of me wonders if this is something that was missing in education when we were in high school – teachers were covering content that was required, but not taking the time to teach the context within society and history.
Coming back to your first response to the story, being reminded of your own “first encounter”, did your previous reading about Coyote in King influence your perception of Robinson’s story at all?
Thank you for your thoughts. It was a wonderful read!
Hi Samantha.,
Yes, I did really find that my understanding of how Coyote was portrayed in Coyote Columbus, definitely changed how I approached Robinson’s version of Coyote. It’s made me realize that like Indigenous narratives, Coyote isn’t a static entity, and isn’t confined to a singular version. It’s been really interesting learning about the different Coyote stories so far. Thanks for your question!
Hi Holly,
Your story about how you found out where the name Red Dear emerged for the town is really interesting and I never knew that as well! I share a very similar experience to you as well where my public high school and elementary school also had a minimal focus on the stories of Indigenous people. I think it made it difficult for students like us today because we’ve only formed more or less a surface knowledge on complexities within our society and others. Whether that be reasoning based on curriculum or teacher’s interest, I would say that was not a proper approach after coming to university and broadening my perspective after learning about stories and history from other cultures. In the world of academia (especially English), I would argue that it is important that we broaden our knowledge of stories from different regions and cultures. Focusing on this principle will allow us to dig deeper into different stories and formulate a better perception of how the world works. Great blog post overall!
Yes, that’s very interesting about Red Deer, Holly; and BC has a “Cariboo” region because the gold-rush prospectors didn’t spell too well. About the twin that stole the paper, etc., I think that the important takeaway isn’t provided by Robinson at all. Alison Dahl Crossley does a great job of it, though, under “Race, class, and gender in the independent and interdependent self” at:
https://gender.stanford.edu/news-publications/gender-news/clash-independence-and-interdependence-creates-conflict-fuels-gender
…explaining how it features in gender relations. Coyote had to deal with Euro men, which made it as bad as it could be since they were more viciously independent that Euro women. But we’ve changed.
Hi Joseph,
Thanks for providing that article, it was really interesting. I also thinks it’s important to consider that Coyote doesn’t hold to traditional gender, in the sense that providing on the story being told, Coyote’s gender changes as well.
Thanks for your comment.