As is the case throughout much of GGRW, my section (pages 270-286) explored a variety of different characters and story-lines, and in such, a variety of allusions are involved.

Religion/Christianity

The first allusion is religious in nature, and involves Thought Woman and her conversation with A.A. Gabriel. As Flick alludes to, this conversation refers to a section of the New Testament, involving Archangel (A.A.) Gabriel and the Virgin Mary (Thought Woman). The allusion begins with A.A. Gabriel, who refers to himself as ‘Heavenly Host’, and his renaming of Thought Woman as Mary. Flick suggests Gabriel’s ignorance of Thought Woman’s Indian name refers to the re-naming of First Nations people, and the extent to which Christianity was used to facilitate First Nations assimilation.

The religious metaphor continues with the singing of A.A. Gabriel’s card. When Coyote first hears the song (Hosanna da), he incorrectly identifies it as “Hosanna in the Highest”, a passage from the Bible (Mark 11:10). The narrator corrects Coyote, who reveals a play on words on the Canadian national anthem, referring to it “Hosanna da, our home on Natives Land (as opposed to ‘home and native land). This is an obvious allusion to the colonization of Canada by Europeans.

Reality vs. Imagination

The section then switches its focus to the four Old Indians, Coyote, and Lionel, intersecting them all. On the day of his fortieth birthday, Lionel had devised four manageable goals, in order to turn his life around, and it his here that the story presents and intersection in the text, one between imagination an reality. Lionel imagines all of his goals falling perfectly into place, and the conversations that will take place:

• His resignation from Bursum’s will be understood and encouraged by Bursum himself. “After he explained to Bill how he wanted to get on with his life, he was sure that Bill would understand… ‘Good for you, Lionel. Don’t forget us when you’re rich and famous.” (p.277)

• His return to university, the University of Toronto his destination of choice, will go smoothly with the assistance of Eli Stands Alone. Eli: “That’s a good career move, Lionel… I know the president. Would you like me to call him?… Will you need any scholarship money?” (p.278)

• Alberta will be willing to sacrifice her career for Lionel and have children. Alberta: “[My career] can wait. I can always pick it up later… Lionel, I’d love to have your children” (p.278)

In reality, these conversations would never go as planned. Lionel’s allegiance to Bursum was the reason he had never returned to school in the first place and Bursum will be reluctant to let him go. Meanwhile, Eli does not hold Lionel in high regard, and it would be unlikely he would be willing or capable of single handedly admitting Lionel to university. Lastly, as alluded to earlier in the novel, Alberta does not want to have kids with Lionel or Charlie. This section is an obvious intersection of Lionel’s imagination and the reality of the unlikelihood of his aspirations.

Outfits

The section concludes with Alberta revisiting the story of the detained outfits. The story itself alludes to the tumultuous relationship between First Nations people and white/European/colonized society, and does so on several occasions. The first of these allusions is tied to the government’s involvement in the return of the outfits, and the exposure of the story by both the media and the government. The allusion present is the government glorifying their rectification of an issue that should never have occurred in the first place, commending themselves for having fixed it as opposed to apologizing to First Nations people for its occurrence in the first place. The second allusion occurs when Alberta’s father brings home the confiscated outfits. “Two of the outfits were badly tattered, most of the feathers snapped off, the ends missing. Alberta’s mother said the others could be repaired. As she held each one up to the light, Alberta could see the pattern of dirt on the sleek feathers where someone with boots had walked on them”. The dirt on the feathers is a physical metaphor for colonized society having left its footprints all over the land that first belonged to First Nations people, having done so beyond repair. Meanwhile, the outfits represent First Nations culture. Despite returning the outfits, much like some attempts at restoring elements of First Nations culture, the outfits are badly damaged at the hands of colonial society. Though some could be repaired, they would never be the same.

Flick, Jane. “Reading Notes for Thomas King’s Green Grass, Running Water.” Canadian Literature 161/162 (1999). Web. April 4^th 2013.

King, Thomas (June 1, 1994). Green Grass, Running Water. New York: Bantam Books.

Names are one of many mechanisms through which King uses to present allusions and metaphors in Green Grass Running Water. They often sum up a personality trait present in the character they describe, or can be ironic in nature when alluding to historical figures or themes.

Eli Stands Alone

Eli Stands Alone is the black sheep of his family and the community of Blossom, Alberta, and the last name ‘Stands Alone’ alludes to his general aloofness from traditional First Nations culture. Having obtained a PhD from the University of Toronto, and later teaching there, Eli was eager to leave the confines of Blossom and his First Nations past behind him and assimilate into Canadian society. This is alluded to a variety of times throughout the book. One such occurrence is Eli’s initial reluctance to bring Karen to the Sun Dance, his discomfort while there, and his refusal to return with her the following year.

While Eli was eager to leave Blossom behind, he finds himself unable to escape it as his unique background leads to him being equally different in mainstream Canadian society. When Eli returns to Blossom to protect his mother’s cabin from the dam, Eli once again finds himself standing alone, but on a far larger scale, opposite the corporate forces of White Man society. No matter where Eli finds himself, he can never fit in, he will always Stand Alone.

“Buffalo” Bill Bursum

“Buffalo” Bill Bursum is the owner of the home entertainment center where Lionel works. This allusion is more subtle, in that deeper research and historical knowledge of First Nations affairs is required to recognize it. The allusion comes in two parts. The first of which, Bill Bursum, is the reversal of Bursum Bill, a famous 1921 bill that deprived Pueblos Indians of their land and water in the New Mexico region, giving the rights to non-Indians. Fortunately for the Pueblos, the bill received national exposure and was eventually defeated. The second allusion emphasizes the “Buffalo Bill”, alluding to William Frederick Cody, a nineteenth and twentieth century showman known for his Wild West shows that involved the exploitation of First Nations people.

Buffalo Bill, sporting the rarely seen Hoke-Troika (lip sweater/soup-saver combo)

Babo Jones

Babo Jones is the eccentric, African-American cleaner at Fort Marion where the four Indians escaped from, who travels alongside Dr. Joe Hovaugh (Herein lies another allusion, ‘Jehovah’) in his quest to find them. In GGRW, King uses Babo as an element of foreshadowing, alluding to the Herman Melville’s story “Benito Cereno”. In the story, a black slave named Babo leads a slave rebellion over their Master Benito Cereno, by deceiving the captain of the ship, Captain Delano, into thinking its business as usual aboard. In GGRW, we are introduced to Babo as she is being interrogated by two white police officers, a Sergeant Cereno and Jimmy Delano, who are investigating the disappearance of the four Indians. Babo’s race is revealed when Sergeant Cereno, growing frustrated with Babo’s inability to answer his questions, suggests his partner Delano “…finish up with Aunt Jemima” (p. 45). As is revealed in the end, it was in fact Babo who assisted with the escape of the four old Indians.

King, Thomas (June 1, 1994). Green Grass, Running Water. New York: Bantam Books.

The Indian Act of 1876 was a statute enacted by the government of Canada that gave the government control over many aspects of First Nations life, whether it be their land, status as and Indian, education, and so on. The goal of the act was to help assimilate First Nations people into mainstream Canadian society, via controlling and subsequently eliminating may original aspects of their culture.

At a deeper and more fundamental level, the Indian Act sought to eliminate First Nations culture at its roots. Under the mantra of aggressive assimilation, the Indian Act implemented the use of residential schools, boarding schools for First Nations people designed to eliminate any education of their culture, while inundating them with Christian beliefs and forcing them to speak English or French. Indigenous traditions and language were discouraged and harsh punishment awaited those who participated in their use. Abusive and harsh conditions characterized residential schools, while the children were left with no escape, boarded there for at least ten months a year with little to no contact with their families.

The Indian Act has maintained two main goals throughout its existence that affect all First Nations people in Canada. It determines who is, or is not considered an Indian, via their Indian status. This was done through a variety of different mechanisms. First Nations people who obtained an education, or were married to someone who were not of First Nations background, would subsequently lose their status as an Indian. The second goal the Indian Act has achieved is determining the governance of Indian reserves and bands, leaving final say and ultimate control to the government as opposed to the bandleaders.

While there is no doubt the main goal of the Indian Act was to assimilate First Nations people through the elimination of their culture, several of its provisions were in place to protect the First Nations population. The most significant and noticeable of these is the appropriation of reserved lands, protected from the forces of colonization. Moreover, the Indian Act receives a mixed response from much of the First Nations population, as while they denounce its destruction of their culture, they are unwilling to let go of the benefits the Act provides them, such as tax exemptions.

The Indian Act does support Coleman’s findings… to some extent. The use of residential schools to erode First Nations culture via its replacement with Christian beliefs would support Coleman’s notion that colonials asserted their way of life, a “white civility” as he refers to it, as superior to that of First Nations people, and indoctrinated it upon them. But this is hardly a revelation. It could be argued that through use of tax exemptions and land reservations, a project of white civility was accomplished more subtly, as it was done under the guise that it would allow First Nations to keep their culture, though in an isolated manner. However, this is far from a reality, and as was discussed in my 2:3 blog, it has only served to further assert the dominance of white civility.

“The Indian Act.” The Indian Act. Indigenous Foundations: UBC, n.d. Web. 15 Apr. 2014.

Question 4

As I expressed in my 2:2 blog, my initial reaction to Robinson’s story of the stolen scripture was one of frustration and confusion. I felt as though the story conveyed somewhat of a paradoxical message: The Europeans were not Gods chosen people and it was wrong for them to assume so (totally agree)… We (First Nations) are thus morally superior to them (wait… what?). Amid the frustration of writing my 2:2 blog, and in my usual considerate fashion, I took it upon myself to include those closest to me in my suffering. I voiced my displeasure with the story to my parents at dinner, and ignoring history as the greatest indicator of future outcomes, hoped they would tell me how right I was. Predictably, they told me quite the opposite.

The conversation quickly veered away from Robinson’s stories and started pinballing around a variety of issues First Nations peoples face. It was here that I subconsciously found myself relying on stereotypes to prove my point. My father provided me with the most convincing counter. He stated that growing up in a small town, he witnessed many First Nations people fulfill the stereotypes they are often labeled with, and at my age, he was skeptical of what role many of them play in society and the taboo that surrounded the question. However, through experiences dealing with First Nations people in his industry, in addition to his own continued learning on the subject, his perspective changed.

He then asked me how many of the jobs I had worked, especially my newly started career path, were the result of a personal connection to someone. Truthfully, all of them were to some degree. “First Nations people don’t have the benefit of that connection,” he suggested. In a world that favours who you know rather than what you know, it becomes increasingly difficult for those less connected to succeed. That is exactly what has happened to many First Nations people living on reserves, they have become increasingly disconnected from mainstream “Canadian” society. By no control of their own, it becomes increasingly difficult for them to assimilate themselves, or to at least assert themselves in “Canadian” society. As my Dad concluded, this is chiefly the result of the inadequacy of outdated treaties that should never have been signed in the first place, however, the First Nations people at the time really had no choice but do so.

My Dad’s explanation exposed myself to unchartered territory in my thought process surrounding the issue. Moreover, Robinson’s second story Coyote meets the King of England served to contextualize a background to my father’s point. Coyote goes to England to make a law for “white and Indian people… so then our children they can be good”. What ensues is an ultimatum, war or no war, and the resolution there will be no war. What follows is a treaty, but not the one Coyote initially had in mind. A treaty that fell through the hands of several Kings over a long period of time. By the time the treaty is finally enacted by the Queen, Canada is likely a far different place, and European dominance is far more prevalent. Moreover, as Coyote alludes to, the law is to be written in a book, and to be given to the First Nations once they are educated. “They can get good education so they can read that book to understand”. Of course that education would be none other than a European education.  This ties into the story of the stolen scripture, and the loss of stories and literature. The law itself was written by the Europeans, and to be given to First Nations only upon them being “educated” (ie. Having things explained to them by Europeans).

The message the story tries to convey is that despite the early efforts of Coyote to create a society for both the First Nations and Whites, the treaty that emerged was a bastardized version of the original agreement between the two kings, heavily tilted towards European interests. What has ensued in the several hundred years since is exactly what would be expected, a society built on imperial pillars, wherein First Nations beliefs and culture are far from the forefront. Consequently, First Nations generations have, through no control of their own, been engulfed by another society, and forced to adapt from a culture and way of life far different from their own.

Robinson, Harry. Living by Stories: a Journey of Landscape and Memory. Ed. Wendy Wickwire. Vancouver: Talonbooks, 2005. Print.

My context of the stolen piece of literature is it represents the story, or stories rather, of the beginning, and how European arrival in North America served to erase and eliminate them from Native American culture.  The story suggests that through stealing the piece of literature, Europeans thus laid claim to the story of the beginning. Thus any story of the beginning that was not coherent with the European rhetoric was in fact invalid, as it was them and them and only who held the true scripture. By stealing the piece of literature, they became the self-anointed chosen ones, despite the illegitimate nature of how it came to be. This story aligns itself with European efforts to impose their culture on the Native American peoples upon European arrival and settlement in North America. As evidenced throughout the chapter, it was not only the material and social aspects of European culture that would come to determine the future, but also the past. The elimination of Native American stories, achieved through a variety of mechanisms, was key to European dominance over the coming centuries.

However it can’t be ignored the significant bias that manifests itself in Robinson’s stories, a bias that paints all Europeans with the same brush, in such a way us modern Canadians are often accused of in our “ignorance” and “attitudes” towards today’s Native population. The stories all exhibit underlying tones of moral superiority on behalf of Native Americans, and evil on behalf of the Europeans. A black and white split between good and evil is not unusual for story-telling, I alluded to this in my 1:3 blog. This is particularly present in the story of the stolen literature, and to no ones surprise, the white man/European is Mr. Evil. The Indian twin, a clean-cut kid who “performed his duties exactly as instructed, while the younger twin [READ: White] stole a written document – a “paper” – he had been not to touch”. (Europeans stealing things… I sense a bit of foreshadowing here). The young thief’s punishment was exile to a distant land across the pond [READ: Europe], where he would then spawn descendents. But it would not be long before his mutant army returned to the place he once called home, only to fall victim to feelings of childhood nostalgia and wreak havoc over the good-to-do population his elder twin had created.

This isn’t to say European settlement of North America was fair, nor was the treatment of the Native Americans that were here prior. However, the story suggests that all Europeans are the descendants of a rogue mischievous thief, and thus it is in their nature to act accordingly. It more or less anoints the descendants of the good twin, Native Americans, as the chosen ones, and suggests the others, at least Europeans, are ill-willed and less credible. It is the same bias the story itself attempts to portray on behalf of the Europeans, and it was this paradoxical bias that struck a nerve with me while reading Robinson’s stories. How come it’s unfair and immoral to hold bias’ against the Native population, while their stories seemed to be littered with ones against people of my colour and heritage, which is for some reason entirely acceptable. This was a thought that echoed through my head while reading these stories, and served to disrupt my mood the more I read on.

Put down your pitchforks and torches…

I must admit, I have had a mixed past in dealings with First Nations people. I think it’s important to understand, especially for people living in areas where direct contact with First Nations people is far less prevalent than others (big cities and the like), we don’t live in a perfect world. People who come into contact with First Nations more often will have mixed experiences. It’s easy for someone who has never stepped foot on or lived nearby a reserve to dismiss any negativity towards First Nations as purely racist in nature. I grew up in an area that bordered a reserve. As such, I grew up playing hockey with my home rink on the reserve, and several Native kids as teammates. I had an in depth exposure to the Native population at a young age. As Theo Fleury alluded to in his book Playing With Fire, they made for some of the most talented players, but for a variety of reasons (attitude problems being the one I noticed first hand, though money is likely the biggest one) you see few of them in the NHL.

Fleury, who is of Metis Heritage, among other things, discusses his experiences on reserves and the troubles Native youths face in his book Playing With Fire. He has been a vocal advocate for understanding prejudice towards First Nations within Canada.

As I reflect on my experience with First Nations people, I often think of it coming with both the good and the bad. The reality of it is, it’s pretty much been 95% good, 5% bad, yet the bad always casts the bigger shadow. Moreover, it is often what we hear from others as opposed to see ourselves that often distorts perspectives. That’s not to say that there aren’t significant issues on both sides, and given the confrontational nature of past relations, it should come as no surprise that hostility exists on both sides, and that this is reflected in our stories. It’s a defence mechanism. However, as long as we understand why perceptions exist and what can be done to rectify them, we are moving forward in our attempts to eliminate their strain on the relationship.

Works Cited

Tychkowski, Robert. “A Fleury of Fury.” Canoe.ca. N.p., 21 Apr. 2005. Web. 17 Mar. 2014.

As I alluded to in my 1:2 blog, There’s No Place Like Home, the values of a home, at least for me, are most often evoked in its absence. This comes in a variety of different ways, as for most people, home has come to mean more than one thing or place over the course of their lives. In my experience, it is once I am away from my home, that the values you take for granted while there become obvious in their sudden absence, and it is in their absence that makes the anticipation for return so high, and a return to home so significant.

In many cases however, a return to home will never be what it once was, and that feeling that a particular home evoked will never be realistically returned. When we move from place to place, the home we are leaving, the one we were accustomed to for whatever extended period of time immediately loses its significance in our every day lives, and merely becomes a time and place from our past. I spent my final semester at UBC living near Cambie and Broadway, across the street from city hall. I only spent four months there, but it was easily the coolest living experience of my life. Having spent my entire childhood in the heart of suburbia of two different cities, in addition to four years living on campus, the feeling of independence and quality of life I enjoyed living in the heart of Vancouver was a whole new world, one I wasn’t eager to let go of. I knew a move back to Calgary would be coming in the New Year, and so it was a melancholy final month in Vancouver, trying to enjoy each day as it came, knowing I’d soon be leaving a place I had so quickly fallen in love with. It was a very foreign experience. It wasn’t as though a return to Calgary was something I wasn’t used to; I had done this every April for the past four years. Yet for the first time, there was no return date.

It’s ironic really, looking back at myself as an 18 year old in August of 2009. With a move to Vancouver looming at the start of the next month, a war of emotions duked it out as my days left in Calgary started to grow fewer and fewer. Anxiety, excitement, fear, uncertainty all went toe to toe over the course of the last week or two, though the negatives seemed to be winning the battles. Fortunately for me, within my first few hours of moving into residence, several beers and some casual banter with my rez-mates, I was a little more at ease with my decision and new home. Within a week I was convinced it was the best decision I had ever made. Yet every now and then, something would happen that would remind me of the home I had for the time being, left behind, and the values in that home I no longer had the luxury of enjoying, the most obvious and significant of which was family.

Moving away from home was coped with via typical college debauchery. University was fun

In such, my experience moving in the opposite direction four and a half years later hasn’t been much different. Within twelve hours of leaving the lush green of Vancouver that I had come to take for granted, I was pulling off an icy road into my snow covered driveway, accompanied by subzero temperatures. However, within five seconds of seeing my family, I was happy to be back at my old home, my new home. Within a month I had begun a great job just south of Fort McMurray. While the experience has lacked the flair of beginning a university career, it has certainly been a rewarding step in the right direction.

“Sanka watcha smokin’ mon?” “I ain’t smokin’! I’m breathin!”

Every so often at work when the northern Alberta cold hits me like a punch to the lungs, I find myself daydreaming back to my old Vancouver home, wondering what life would have been like had I stayed longer. Predictably warmer. Once the dream fades the reality of my new life and home sets in. But for a kid who split his childhood between Alaska and Alberta, it’s a great reality, a reality and home that involves family, friends, opportunity, and a great quality of life.

“Now in the beginning, God made the heavens and the earth. On the first day he made cheeseburgers. On the second day he made air conditioning. On the third day he made blue jeans. On the fourth day, he made ROCK AND ROLL. And then he rested on the seventh day, and took a ride with his baby in his Cadillac” – Bruce Springsteen

At least, according to the Boss, who was somewhere between a bicep curl and a bench press, that’s how it all started. Some may call the validity of his claims into question (though the priority of cheeseburgers is rarely disputed), but they are no more credible or absurd than the next person’s. We all have beliefs, and the stories to justify them. As Thomas King acknowledges, stories of our world’s creation come in all different shapes and sizes. Among all the discrepancies between stories and personal accounts, some things persist. Most notably the existence of good and evil, a right and a wrong, a black and a white. Not only do these things exist, they exist for a reason, as a lesson, a constant reminder of why or why not. They remind us what to thank for the good, and loathe for the bad.

So here’s my story about Evil

Evil was 17 and gorgeous. The talk of the small town she lived in. She was in a league of her own. She was all the boys talked about, dreamed about. And there she was: Bleach blonde hair, acid wash jeans, black leather jacket, and a Marlborough Red hanging from her lip, standing with her back against the record machine as Van Halen’s “Jump” pumped through the local diner speakers. The local boys were in a trance, eyes locked on her, until she noticed them, at which point they all awkwardly diverted their stare to the milkshakes in front of them. Except for Jimmy, who fell victim to the day dream Evil put so many boys in. After 5 more seconds and several of Jimmy’s friends’ elbows being nudged into his kidneys to no avail, Evil addressed the situation, suggesting Jimmy take a picture. “It might last longer” she said. Suddenly Jimmy awakened from his fantasy, and was left scrambling for a recovery. “Uhhhh” Jimmy says “There was a clock over your head, I was trying to see what time it w–“. There was no clock, and Evil didn’t have time for the next five excuses that were about to come out of Jimmy’s mouth. Evil pivoted on her four inch heel and headed for the door, a trail of blonde hair followed. Just like that she was gone.

Rumour had it Evil liked the bad boy types. Maybe that was the key to her heart the diner boys thought. So they rolled up the cuffs of their jeans, slicked back their hair, cut off their sleeves, and kept a steady rotation of toothpicks and cigarettes in their mouths. Over the following weeks, the obsession with Evil had become addicting for the boys, and it was not long before newfound teenage testosterone turned the pursuit of Evil into an all out competition, each pushing the envelope.

Jimmy  lit up a cigarette, a newly adopted hobby that his teenage lungs evidently disagreed with, judging by the coughing fit that followed each inhale. “I remember my first smoke” one of his buddies quipped, all part of the endless exchange of jabs and chirps among the boys in the constant struggle for group supremacy. Jimmy chased the whole scene down with a beer one of the boys had stolen from home and diverted his attention to the ’82 Ford Mustang convertible idling in the gas station parking lot across the street. The owner had disappeared inside a couple of minutes prior. Jimmy was tired of playing catch-up to whatever the groups new material attempt at bad was. He figured it was time he set the bar. He took one quick look around, the owner was nowhere in sight. Jimmy slipped out of the groups circle and walked over to the car. He opened the door and slipped in the driver seat as his friends voices faded in the distance. Suddenly, they were louder. “What the hell ya doing Jimmy!?” “Alright jokes over Jimmy get outta’ there before we get in trouble”. The car still running, Jimmy pumped the clutch, threw it in first and headed for the highway. He took one last glance at the group as a mesh of sudden excitement, disbelief, and horror all battled for dominance on each of their faces. Jimmy basked in the moment, which was suddenly interrupted by a loud New York accent, “HEY I’M WALKIN’ HERE!”. BRAKES! Jimmy realized, as he stopped several inches shy of the man crossing the street. Startled, Jimmy waited the longest three seconds of his life for the man to cross the street, and then he was off.

One lap around the block he figured. Jimmy pulled a Guns N’ Roses tape out of his portable cassette player and popped it in the stereo. The wind blowing through his mullet, Jimmy felt a little more relaxed. Maybe two blocks, Jimmy thought. And then three, then four, and then seven, where in the distance he saw Evil, on the sidewalk, walking towards him. Jimmy’s heart pumped faster and faster, as he anticipated the moment that was about to ensue. The perfect storm, the crossroads, this is what it had all been about. Jimmy had been so lost in the moment, he failed to notice the car racing up behind him, the red and blue lights flashing, the siren wailing. Until finally he did. The horrible realization, the regret, hit him like a gunshot to the stomach. How could I have thought I would get away with this? How could I have not seen this coming? Jimmy pulled over and came to a stop as Evil walked by with a curious stare. The baddest thing of all was happening to Jimmy, and right in front of Evil, the ice queen herself. But Jimmy couldn’t savour the moment. As Evil walked past the car Jimmy diverted his attention to the officer approaching it. “Does this vehicle belong to you son?” said the officer. Jimmy unable to speak, as if a bowling ball was lodged in his throat, shook his head. “Well son, you’re in a lot of trouble”. Jimmy wished he could rewind his life back ten minutes to the gas station, slap himself in the face, knock the whole idea out of his head in the first place. But he couldn’t, for once a story is told, it cannot be called back.

Observation

I found this assignment particularly hard, and the absurd story presented above was really a reflection of my frustration writing it and eventually just running with a crazy idea. To my surprise, my mother, whom I told the story too, really enjoyed it, though it didn’t take her long to poke holes at various parts of it.

Works Cited

Burr, Bill (Producer) & Mohr, Jay (Guest). (2014, January 16). Monday Morning Podcast [Audio podcast].
Retrieved from http://itunes.apple.com

King, Thomas. The Truth About Stories: A Native Narrative. Peterbough: Anansi Press. 2003. Print.

Question 4: Home

Home can be a problematic place to determine, because home only exists in the past. The home we remember, think of, long for, is simply a memory; it is a figment of our imagination, not a reality. The emotions that bring about our fondness for home are only stirred up in its absence. We relish the home we no longer have. Moreover, our surroundings and way of life change from day to day and place to place. Home takes on new meanings, and the things we value in a home change accordingly. Thus there is never a steady definition of home, but rather it embodies a dynamic and fluid existence.

“There’s no place like home!”

As I alluded to in my previous blog post, a lot can change in a time zone, and given the five and half we are home to in Canada, great diversity is manifested within our borders. Thus there is no ubiquitous definition of home throughout Canada. As places change, so do the values that home represents to the people of these places. Moreover, given the cultural diversity we are accustomed to, social norms place an emphasis on accepting a wide diversity of what home symbolizes amongst people of different cultures. While we are all accustomed to ways of life that are considered uniquely Canadian, even these are subject to outside cultural influences that further complicate our definition of home, and lead us to question to what extent “uniquely” satisfies the term “Canadian”.

This bears sharp contrast to Canada as it was several hundred years ago, a place not symbolized by wide acceptance of differing values, but rather outright ignorance of them. This is what Chamberlin alludes to, and that put differently, he suggests much of the conflict that has existed has been characterized by the dismissal of different beliefs, done through condescension and degradation (78). To the European settlers, the ways of life of the Indigenous peoples struck them as barbaric and animal-like, of a lesser pedigree to their own advanced state. However, as Chamberlin notes, the Native people thought of these European strangers in a very similar way (11). They saw them as strange and bizarre, and were sure their own way of life was far more rational and advanced. In such cases, Chamberlin suggests what is considered strange or familiar is thus culturally determined, and it often results in conflict, as absurdity (imagination) clashes with the rationality (reality) (140).

Chamberlin’s illustration into the differing perspectives of Canadian settlement provides an alternate view to what most born and raised Canadians are accustomed to. For the indigenous peoples, their definition of home was subject to drastic change the day Europeans arrived. What constituted home to the Native peoples would become increasingly, if not entirely determined by the Europeans. As European settlement in Canada progressed and increased in size, so too did the rationality of the European story and perspective, while drowning out the voice and story of their Indigenous counterparts. It has become commonplace in our understanding of Canada’s history as a nation: European settlement was a progressive step towards the founding of “our” nation. However, as Chamberlin argues, neither story is true, neither perspective more rational than the other (230). When we fail to acknowledge this, perspectives are ignored while undue emphasis is placed on others, further manifesting the issue and intensifying the distortion of stories.

Works Cited

Chamberlin, J. Edward. If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories?: Finding Common Ground. Toronto: A.A. Knopf Canada, 2003. Print.

“The Wizard of Oz (1939).” The Wizard of Oz. N.p., n.d. Web. 17 Jan. 2014.

“Ice meets metal, ‘can’t you drive me down to the big league?” – Tom Cochrane

Having spent the first four years of my childhood in the United States, albeit in Alaska, I came to Canada an outsider. Yet as I would find over the course of my childhood, and even more so upon moving to Vancouver at the age of 18, a diverse group of outsiders are largely what makeup this country, let alone founded it a little less than one hundred and fifty years ago.

Though I sound like a broken record, Canada is defined by its diversity and differences. What else could be expected of a country of its size? The trips back and forth between Vancouver and Calgary over the course of my four and a half years at UBC were a constant reminder of this, and even more so upon returning to Calgary for good just several weeks ago. Whether it is the cultural makeup of the city, the industries that empower it, the way people talk and dress, or the weather (I’ll give Vancouver the upper hand on this one), a lot can change in a time zone. Now mind you we have five and a half time zones throughout Canada, so imagine the scope of difference we deal with. We even have a nation, within a nation, according to our Prime Minister.

Despite our differences, it is our vehicles of expression that unite us as a country. If you grew up in Canada, you at one point or another likely laced up the skates, and stepped on to a frozen surface of some kind. And if you grew up anywhere east of Vancouver, this likely occurred outdoors. There’s a good chance a stick and round piece of rubber were involved as well. Hockey is just one of many vehicles of expression that can be found just about anywhere in Canada. Whether it be sport, music, or finishing a sentence with “eh”, these cultural symbols persist despite our differences and unite us as a whole.

ENGL 470 examines our literary roots as a nation. As I have previously identified, it is our differences that often define us, and the literature of this class will help us explore the foundation of this symbolic trait, such as the differences between European and Indigenous peoples in the early days of Canadian history, as well as the discrepancy in power amongst the voices of various groups throughout the country. The literature will helps us identify the lens through which we see Canada at the present day, and what in our history as a nation has enabled this perception.

Works Cited

Emmer. “What Is It About Pond Hockey?” Gongshow Hockey RSS. Gongshow Hockey, 11 Dec. 2013. Web. 09 Jan. 2014.

“Quebecers Form a Nation within Canada: PM.” CBCnews. CBC/Radio Canada, 22 Nov. 2006. Web. 09 Jan. 2014.

“TOM COCHRANE & RED RIDER – Big League.” YouTube. YouTube, 15 Nov. 2006. Web. 09 Jan. 2014.