In his novel If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories: Finding common Ground, J. Edward Chamberlin brings to light many important problems that people have faced for generations (and continue to face today) regarding reality versus imagination. At the heart of this problem is the concept of belief and how our beliefs are what drive us to discount other people’s beliefs in the grand hope of finding the “truth”. Chamberlin says, “the history of many of the world’s conflicts is a history of dismissing a different belief or different behavior as unbelief or misbehaviour, and of discrediting those who believe or behave differently as infidels or savages” (78). With so much discredit being thrown around daily, it is no surprise that the concept of “home” is problematic and continues to cause conflict between Indigenous and European settlers today.
Though Chamberlin repeatedly states that “the history of settlement around the world is the history of displacing other people from their lands, of discounting their livelihoods and destroying their languages” (78), I believe that the real issue stems from what people believe to be their land, or rather, when people believe that they have the right to own land. This issue becomes increasingly problematic when land is viewed as purely property to be owned to some individuals and as “home” to others. When land is viewed as solely property for the taking, there is no emotional/psychological connection to it; it is something real in purely the physical sense of the word. But when land is viewed as a home, it possesses emotional and psychological power that overrides the physical. It becomes “who we are and where we belong” (76). I believe that the European settlers viewed Canada as purely land because they were trying to find a true spiritual home, something that they had not found yet or had taken from them. Conversely, I believe that the Indigenous people of Canada viewed Canada as a home because it was actually a homeland to them, having the spiritual connection to the land and the happiness that that connection brought with it. Chamberlin quotes anthropologist W. E. H. Stanner who says, “no English words are good enough to give a sense of the links between an aboriginal group and it’s homeland” (79). Stanner says, “when we took what we call ‘land’ we took what to them meant hearth, home, the source and locus of life, and everlastingness of spirit” (79). As a result, we have two groups of people seeing the value of land completely differently, which can only lead to conflict.
The fact that Chamerlin explains that “stories keep us sane and steady in a world in which we are always having to face loss and unhappiness” (78) and that “home–the idea as well as the reality–has something of the same power” (78), hits very close to home (no pun intended) for me. I have lived in the same house my entire life and the surrounding properties were originally (as of 60 years ago) owned by my grandfather and his brother. But because of development, the land is slowly being destroyed and being replaced by countless single family homes. Seeing the changes occur, and knowing that our house will soon be demolished as well, is absolutely devastating. It is not devastating because my grandfather owned it, but instead, it is devastating because of the memories and stories that encompass the land, as well as the connection my family has to it spiritually. Because of this, I can sense the kind of hardship that the Indigenous people of this country faced when the European settlers arrived–though they obviously felt it on a much larger scale. Yet, seeing land as not something to be owned, but rather something to protect and cherish is a belief that I share with most of the Indigenous people of this world. As a result, like the Indigenous people becoming homeless in their homeland, I can already feel the sense of homelessness kicking in within myself because I know that my home will be destroyed soon–all the cedar trees will be chopped down and be replaced with concrete.
In the end, the consequences of the meaning of land and home holding different value will continue to cause conflict if “us and them” don’t find common ground and choose to take each others beliefs seriously and not discredit them. Unless we “acknowledge the idea as well as the reality of the homelessness that afflicts us, it is going to be difficult to understand the conflicts that are shattering our world” (80). After all, we are all looking for a home, but often in the act of finding a home, we displace others from their home(s). This has been happening for thousands of years and I believe that people are becoming more concerned about finding a sense of home now more than ever because of population increases and land being cleared and altered everyday; people being one with the land and calling it it home is no longer really possible. Instead, lines are drawn and and only a section of land can be called one’s home, and often it is not enough to really feel genuinely like a home. But ultimately, I feel that we are all homeless because one way or another, almost all of us have been displaced from our homes, whether it was thousands of years ago or a hundred years ago. Yet still, we shouldn’t feel this way because the fact is, the earth is our collective home. This is were the conflict lies: the belief of having/needing a home to separate us from other people and their differing beliefs. In the end, “whatever and wherever it is, home is always border country, a place that separates and connects us, a place of possibility for both peace and perilous conflict” (3). Until we can start believing that the earth is our home, and land belongs to no one or everyone, we will continue to fight over it in an attempt to find our own “home”.
Reading J. Edward Chamberlin’s novel If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories: Finding common Ground, also made me really reflect on the idea of “us” and “them” and though I didn’t get a chance to write much about this concept, I wanted to share a video that really made me hyper aware of this ridiculous concept. It is a YouTube video of comedian Hari Kondabolu on David Letterman. Watch the video (http://youtu.be/Ncv15dCVc7M) in it’s entirety or feel free to start it at about 2 mins 10 seconds and watch until the end.
Works Cited
Chamberlin, J. Edward. If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories? Finding Common Ground. Toronto: Vintage Canada 2004. Print.
“David Letterman – Comedian Hari Kondabolu.” 27 Mar. 2014. YouTube. Web. 23 May 2014.
Sucks that your family’s home is going to be destroyed, I hope you take lots of pictures and make lots of memories. In many first nations cultures the “home” (the place of sleeping and living) was a few longhouses where multiple generations resided. There wasn’t a nuclear family model or a sense of individual ownership, like there is no- instead it was a collective. Now, on my family’s land, the nuclear model is used and families have split into smaller single family homes. The land will always be collectively cared for, but we can never truly own it. Theres a saying that we borrow land and resources from our children.
🙂 — thanks for the giggle too
Home. Such an elusive word, assigned to such a transient and incomprehensible concept. Is it a location, a person, a heartbeat, a feeling, a definition in a dictionary, a point on a map? Reading your story about losing your home breaks my heart a little, and also makes me a trifle envious. I can empathize with the idea of losing a home, mostly because I haven’t found one yet. I’m one of those searchers that you describe, the person on the move, searching for a place to call home. I’ve grown up on land I have no connection to, in a place where my family has no claim, legal or otherwise. So, I have never felt at home, even though I’ve spent my entire life in one place. I’ve used the word “home” to describe where my family came from, a place I hope to return to one day, because I consider it my “home” too, even though I’ve never lived there. Why? Why do we so often define home in terms of a physical location, a connection to the earth or the trees or the water that surrounds us? And, as the world becomes more and more populated in concrete, what does this mean for this common conception of “home”?
On a larger note, you mentioned european settlers as being on the search for a “home”, one which they presumably found, even if the land was initially just land for them. If one considers this claim carefully, that those settlers have now claimed Indigenous land as their own “spiritual home”, what ramifications would Chamberlin’s suggestion of restoring Aboriginal land title have on the modern Canadian psyche(231)? Would it change anything about how we still discriminate, discount, and dismiss Aborigial issues as the problem of the “other”? Would switching the name on the category really change anything, would it serve to break down the barrier between”them and us”? Chamberlin suggests that the stories we tell define people’s perception of home: “If this is your land, where are your stories?” suggests the fundamental idea that our sense of home is defined by stories, those of our ancestors mostly. So, if stories have that kind of power to divide us, surely they also have the power to unite us? I like to think so.
Thanks for your post, I found it very thought provoking : )
In my concentration, Human Geography, we have a concept that I think has a lot to do with your feelings for home and the sadness you feel when it is changed without your blessing. We call this concept the “socio-spatial dialectic”. It is the idea that not only do we shape the places we live in, but that where we live also shapes us. I think this dialectic is responsible for much of the feeling that we experience when we are in a place called home. In your case having grown up in a particular place, I’m sure you left your mark on it in some way and it seems that that place definitely left its mark on you hence why you call it “home”. Thanks for your post and I hope I explained the socio-spatial dialectic in a way that makes sense… let me know if you don’t get it and I’ll try to elaborate a little!
Mike
Reading your post hit very close to home for me as I am currently going through a similar experience. Both my home with my partner, a place our families have met for the past six years we’ve been together, and his family for the past sixty years is in the process of possibly being sold due to gentrification. My home in the city, my Omi’s home was built by my Opi about 75 years ago as well, and will be going through the same process once my grandmother (Omi) passes. Both places are home to me, and not just because my family is there, its because of the bones of the home itself, the spirits who visit, “The Lions” or “Sisters” I can see from my window (mountain range), the creek I walk my dogs, the trees, the neighbours, the smell. Everything about the “location” is home. I hate to feel like that will all be taken away soon…
Being in First Nations Studies I’ve had to constantly reflect on how my home was built literally on the taking away of someone else’s home and how terrible that was/is.
My family escaped from Germany and Russia during the end of the war and came to Canada to start again. Most of their families were killed or lost and their homes were destroyed and taken over by corruption… but this is the story of war that everyone shares… no matter where you come from or who you are.
Seeing how various indigenous peoples from different Nations know the land here and connect to it has at times made me feel that I don’t belong here, that maybe now that its safe we should all just move back to Germany. Here’s the thing though. This is our home now, I feel deeply connected to this place, and I don’t want to leave.
Chamberlin talks alot about how learning to respect each other’s beliefs will help us through these difficult questions of home and ownership, who belongs and who doesn’t. I think respect is a good place to start, but I’m not entirely sure its possible for everyone right now.
There is so much anger, grief, hostility, mistrust and heartache in the relationships between indigenous peoples and settlers that respect as times is not an option, specially when your beliefs fundamentally go against, disrupt and harm someone else’s very essence of their belief.
I feel like the more I learn the less I know what to do, or how to feel. I think the only option at this point is to keep talking and figuring out a way to “contradict”, coexist and be ok/not be ok with it.
I really enjoyed reading your post. You had made mentioned that the idea of land and home holding different value will continue to cause conflict common ground isn’t found between “us and them” and choose to take each others beliefs seriously. I really enjoyed how to phrased this and it reminded me of a famous speech given by Chief Seattle where he told President Franklin Pierce that his people would accept the offer of a reservation because the chief knew that his peoples’ days were numbered. A quote from the speech as well is “[e]very part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every hillside, every valley, every clearing and wood, is holy in the memory and experience of my people. Even those unspeaking stones along the shore are loud with events and memories in the life of my people. The ground beneath your feet responds more lovingly to our steps than yours, because it is the ashes of our grandfathers. Our bare feet know the kindred touch. The earth is rich with the lives of our kin.”
The reason I thought of this while reading your post is because, personally, I think it goes beyond taking each others beliefs seriously. I have had my doubts that true reconciliation can be reached because aboriginal peoples, or at least my people, can’t restore what was lost. There is a grieving, mourning and great sadness that underlines all the anger one hears in the news over the loss of land, treaty agreements, reconciliation and a multitude of other things. I believe it’s like, for lack of a better analogy, when a bully isolates a child, forces them to do something, takes something from them, etc for a long period of time and then when other kids start telling the bully to smarten up, the bully apologizes. Is the child going to trust the bully? Is the hurt going to go away? No. I think it’s the same with aboriginal peoples. Our society wants it to be fixed but there is one thing that all reconciliation needs: time.
Yes, an excellent response to my question, you have captured the spirit of Chamberlain’s book nicely and explored and connected his ideas with your perspectives in a most well expressed blog. Thank you for a good read. I have a few things I feel inspired to say. You write:
“As a result, we have two groups of people seeing the value of land completely differently, which can only lead to conflict.”
It is true that these different values for land have led to conflict, but this is not inevitable; so I would be more careful with your wording and stay in the present and the past here; open a door for change.
Ahhh, better; “In the end, the consequences of the meaning of land and home holding different value will continue to cause conflict if “us and them” don’t find common ground and choose to take each others beliefs seriously and not discredit them.”
Yes! – this is very nicely expressed and such an important observation:
Yet still, we shouldn’t feel this way because the fact is, the earth is our collective home. This is where the conflict lies: the belief of having/needing a home to separate us from other people and their differing beliefs.
And, underlying this conflict, is, I think, the tension between imagination and reality: home is a metaphor for a desire to belong — and land is real. So, imagine if we all desired to belong to the earth; would this be a moment when our imagination aligns with reality?
This post has certainly inspired a lively and thoughtful dialogue: BUT – where are you in this dialogue Lara?