Canadian
Indians’
Dichotomy
of
Cultural


Preservation,
and
Substance
Abuse
Issues



By
Rex
A.
Crouch




Before a recent road trip across Canada with a prolonged stay in the Yukon I had a preconceived
notion of the Canadian First Nations. First Nations is a Canadian politically correct term
developed in the 1980s to mean Indian Bands, and does not include the Inuit, nor Métis as they
are different in culture, region, and linguistics. Another variation between the Indians of the
United States, and Canada is that First Nations are formed in clans whereas in the United States
Indians are formed in tribes. This preconceived notion I had of the First Nations was one of a
noble and proud people still practicing their ancient cultures and possibly melding their cultures
with those of the 21st century. Traveling traditional tourist routes in Canada may not expose you
to the ancient cultural practices of the First Nations, nor the endemic social, and substance abuse
issues they endure—leaving the beaten the path is a requirement.

Finding Indians publically inebriated, open meth addicts, users of other hard drugs, and Indians
participating in street gangs was the last thing I expected to find from the First Nations. While
older Indians seemed predisposed to using alcohol, younger Indians were found using narcotics
as well as alcohol. The village of Ross River, Yukon was a tiny forgotten town, nearly a half day
drive from anywhere. Ross River began as a trading post, and with the completion of the
highway ‘being a gravel road’ most people left, and the remaining population was predominately
Indian. The village now consists of some small houses, trailers, a convenience store, gas station,
and a restaurant/hotel with supplies trucked in daily. Other than nebulous mining opportunities,
there was little work to be found in the general area. Looking around the town I found that many
people had a bottle in hand. I pondered how a group of people with no apparent income could
afford to stay drunk, and queried where they bought their booze as there wasn’t a liquor store
around. This wasn’t the right question to ask, and garnered hateful stares. I later learned that their
alcohol was a black market product, and there were no legal sales in town. In Dawson City I met
a lady who was the first public school teacher in Ross River. She speculated that most children
she taught were now dead. She further explained that drunken knife fights are common, but not
as common as a person passing out from excessive drinking in the cold. In a land where the
winter temperatures dip down to -40 degrees Celsius, passing out drunk results in death. She
further explained that illiteracy was common when she first arrived in Ross River, and without a
teacher it was most likely that the vast majority was still illiterate. Farther south in Whitehorse I
found a drunk Indian man in the Canadian Super Store taking a nap on one of the patio furniture
displays. A short while later I saw a Canadian Mounted Police officer taking the Indian out of the
store. Leaving the store I found some First Nations gangbangers in the parking lot selling drugs.
One young girl with them, maybe 17 or 18 years old was complaining bitterly that her mother
had tossed her in the drunk tank for “two whole days.” I couldn’t remember when I last heard the
term “drunk tank” and it wasn’t said by a little girl.

I really wondered where my preconceived notions came from, and why the First Nations that I
had been presented thus far had degenerated into what I was observing.

Leaving this area I went to Carcross, Yukon, and began camping. A short while later I was
greeted by an angry Indian who brought his Director of Cultural Heritage with him. As it turns
out I was camping on ancient healing grounds, and the land where I was camping was in the
process of being turned over to the Carcross Clan who had demonstrated the land to have ancient
cultural artifacts. The Director of Cultural Heritage is a person, typically a white person, hired by
the clan to represent the clan to the local government, and write grants for the clan. After I made
it clear that no disrespect was intended, that I was leaving, but didn’t understand why their
approach was so aggressive and hostile, some dialog began. I learned of racial tensions between
First Nations, and white people in the area. As it was explained to me, a lot goes back to early
mining and lumber industries, and how white people once treated Indians. This Indian’s name
was Willy. He now understood that I brought a certain level of respect for the First Nations, and
became more open in his dialog, and the Director of Cultural Heritage departed the area. Willy
provided a tour and showed me where sweat huts had once been built for healing rituals. He
explained how pains are removed during the ceremony, and are bound to a tree in the middle of
the sweat hut and how the circle is closed with willows. After seeing a healing circle I could see
them everywhere—they are obvious when you know what you are looking at. After spending a
couple of hours with Willy I felt comfortable enough to explain to him that what he was showing
me, was what I had expected to find in the First Nations, and asked him about the alcohol and
drug abuse I had been observing. He explained to me that members of the First Nations receive
compensations, and grants from the Canadian government, and that some use the money like
him, to protect culturally important land, and others have turned to drugs. He blamed the use of
drugs on white people, and specifically mining companies for bringing the diversity, as well as
the drugs and alcohol with them making the abuse possible. In vacillation to some extent, I
believe that people are responsible for their own actions, and doubt that white people or mining
companies forced any Indian to use drugs. As he was taking the time to share a side of the story I
had not been exposed to yet, I diligently kept my opinions to myself. Not all Indians had
succumb to alcohol or drug abuse; there were still many who believed in their traditional ways of
life, and they were still farther from the beaten path than most travelers see. Although he had a
reason why Indians had become substance abusers he did not have any clear idea of how to
resolve the problem, and thought of it as embarrassing as a whole for the First Nations. He
explained that most of his friends are illiterate, but he had shown then how to establish hardrock
mining claims on their land which helped them protect their land from development. This
required a yearly renewal, but they merely had to copy the documents from the previous year,
and this provided protection under the Canadian legal system. While I had suspected that the
cultures had blended, I was impressed with how they were using of the Canadian mining laws to
protect lands they found important. He showed me where a white person had came-in once and
began chopping down trees for a lumber company until they had him stopped. In another
location adjacent to the First Nations properties he showed me where whites wanted to build a
fence that would cut through animal paths used by caribou and bears, and further explained how
this fence would disrupt a wildlife corridor. In yet another location a miner tore through healing
circles with a bulldozer. For those Indians concerned for the land, and its cultural meanings, it
was easy to see how there could be contempt for white people. Learning a lot this day, I left the
Carcross Clan land as promised, and moved about 40 miles west into an ancient volcanic caldera
adjacent to a mining camp where I met other Indians; not only indigenous to the immediate area
but as from as far away as the Swampy Cree Clan from Saskatchewan.

Some there believed that drug and alcohol use was brought by the white men, others believed in
personal responsibility, all concurred that the compensation and grant payments from the
government facilitated the abuse. There were mixed emotions on protecting culturally sacred
places because, as it was explained to me, given the wording of the laws, with little effort, but
enough time, an Indian can claim almost anything as sacred, and could get it designated as
such—Willy had explained the same thing to me but from his perspective.

I returned to Whitehorse and asked real estate agents to government officials from various
offices about this social undercurrent I was experiencing between whites and Indians. When
asked, there was always a troubled look on their faces, as if they are groping for a correct
answer. This seemed to be a taboo subject for them, and the best of answers was- “Well, the First
Nations have different opinions.”

If drug and alcohol abuse is tied to compensations wherein there is no requirement to work, a lot
of idol time, and money to spend, then where is the compensation coming from. The more I
heard about the compensations, the more I thought that Canada must have a “Ministry of We’re
Sorry.”

In Canada, treaty negotiations with Indians began in the 1870s. The first treaties were intended to
eliminate the Indian’s rights to land, and provide them compensation. Compensation will become
factor in most treaties thereafter. Initially, Indians were passive in the treaties being produced,
and the idea of one person owning the land was as foreign a concept to them as nobody owning
land today. As Indians learned that the treaties were not benevolent, causing them to move, and
become segregated, Indians began playing an active role in treaty negotiations. Indians began
pushing for subjects to be addressed that the government was not prepared to discuss, but the
Indians were attempting to protect the lands they used, and their culture.

Treaties are not perfect. Unscrupulous people on both sides were possibly involved at various
levels, but despite their flaws, treaties were better than nothing. Throughout history societies
were conquered, and there was no room for cultural preservation, or thought of human rights as
Roman soldiers or Conquistadors took what they wanted, and razed the rest. The attempts to
employ treaties have been an effort to humanely integrate cultures, but the compensation in the
treaties is possibly being abused.

As an example, the Lac Seul First Nation has recently been offered 11 million dollars from the
Canadian federal government for having flooded their land 75 years ago. Another 12.6 million
dollar is offered to them from Ontario Power Generation with an additional 1 million dollars
over 10 years for scholarships. This compensation of 24.6 million dollars is offered to a Clan of
2,710 people, most of which were born after the flood not knowing they were victims, yet they
claim this amount is not enough. How much is enough? Can compensation ever undo what the
white settlers did to the Indians? The answer is emphatically “no” but at some point we all have
to move on and use the mistakes of our forefathers to become better people today. The First
Nations who are receiving compensations and/or grants should reconsider their operations, stop
the handouts, and develop a hands-up method of ensuring Indians have an education, and
employment opportunities while working on cultural preservation, and possibly use ancient
healing grounds for alcohol and drug rehabilitation. To see these ancient healing grounds used to
benefit and educate today’s society Indians would make the preservation efforts worthwhile.