First Nations

Windrunner's Tale: Turtle Island and the Great Black Snake - Chapter One - The Prophesy of the Rainbow Warriors

Submitted by Madame Butterfly on Wed, 05/01/2013 - 22:36

 

From the distant hill Windrunner could see the plume of thick black smoke coming from the tarnished fields. Keeping low, he ran towards them, his moccasin-clad feet skillfully traversing the forest floor. He was, after all, an 'Indian' he thought, with a wry chuckle. If he couldn't sneak up on a bulldozer, then what the hell kind of native was he?

Up at the top of the hill he peered down at the scene below. A large convoy of trucks were parked in a row, each one carrying enormous black pipes...pipes for the pipeline that was already being built, meant to one day soon snake across the entire breadth and width of Turtle Island, carrying the thick, corrosive black sludge that would one day be made into oil.

Earth Day the Canadian way: A drum circle and bonfire in Innisfil

Submitted by Madame Butterfly on Tue, 04/23/2013 - 00:42

 

Tonight at eight o'clock EST we turned off all the lights in the house, even going so far as to unplug the TV, and grabbing our hand drums and tambourines off the wall, we headed over to next door neighbour Gary's house. There in the backyard, at the end of the garden, his fire pit was glowing and crackling with a roaring fire, while the steady sound of drums could be heard from his CD player.

Gary wore his First Nations jacket and a cowboy hat. He practically lived at the fire pit at the end of his garden, where he had built a 'man cave' out of old pieces of wood and plywood. Ever since his heart attack Gary says he can't sleep indoors. On all but the coldest nights he sleeps in the cabin, where a little space heater and the heat from his nightly fires keeps him toasty warm.

Inside his sleeping bag he says he doesn't feel the cold too much. His wife, inside the house in their warm modern home, has long since given up on trying to get him to come inside. He just likes it better out at the little cabin, where he can sit by the fire and watch the night sky and listen to his songs, he explains. And he can't breathe inside the house...ever since the heart attack he can't seem to breathe so well when he tries to sleep inside.

Canadian Government ordered to hand over Native Residential School documents

Submitted by Madame Butterfly on Thu, 01/31/2013 - 19:22

 

An Ontario Court ordered the Harper Government to hand over all documents and records pertaining to the First Nations and Native Residential Schools to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission on Wednesday.

Despite the Canadian Government's refusal to provide those documents housed in Library and Archives Canada, the Honourable Justice Stephen Gouge stated that 'the obligation for the Goverment to provide the materials is clear.'

Full story: http://www.allvoices.com/contributed-news/13926900-canadian-government-ordered-to-hand-over-native-residential-school-documents

Drumbeats of change: Idle No More fires up Canada as movement spreads like wildfire

Submitted by Madame Butterfly on Tue, 01/29/2013 - 09:20

 

Canadians from coast to coast have donned their battle toques, grabbed their drumsticks and taken to the streets to stand beside their First Nations brethren in what is becoming a sweeping social movement that has started a fire in the hearts (and under the butts) of this normally passive and easygoing nation.

As the populace of Canada has slowly begun to awaken in horror to the bizarre, irresponsible and dangerous policies of creepily narcissistic Prime Minister Stephen Harper, most Canadians looked askance to each other in terms of how to fight this avalanche of bad news.

From omnibus bills of gargantuan length and size aimed at sweeping in massive, undisputed reforms that serve only the greed of oil companies, to the dismantling of Canada's once internationally acclaimed scientific outposts and firing of its world-class scientists, the people of Canada have stood and watched with their mouths literally hanging open in shock for long enough.

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