More than 20 years ago, in 1987 to be precise, I started writing a column for The Expositor called Our Town. As a former educator, I set out to try to educate the people of Brant about my people - the Six Nations.
One of my earliest columns was an attempt to explain how many Six Nations people, as well as most other First Nations people here in Canada, felt about aboriginal land rights.
Before this time, I had visited many First Nations all across Canada and Indian reservations in the U.S. I was fortunate to be the coach and manager of the Ohsweken Mohawks during the time they won five consecutive Canadian championships. As we travelled about North America and met other First Nations, the question about native land rights often came up.
From Nova Scotia to British Columbia and south to California and Oklahoma, the aboriginal people all basically felt the same way.
parable
In order to express their feelings of melancholy and sorrow over their loss of their land, I decided to attempt to explain it with a parable. It went like this.
How would you feel, if you owned a large house and strangers came and moved in without asking permission? Perhaps, because you felt sorry for them, you would decide to let them stay, especially since you had lots of room. Of course, you would suggest that they pay you some rent.
Perhaps you would suggest that $200 a month would be fair. How would you feel if your guests said that they were only going to pay $20 a month? Would you think they were trying to be co-operative and thankful for your willingness to share?
Then after a few years they would announce that they had paid enough. They were no longer going to pay any rent for living in your house. They would even tell you that your house no longer belonged to you. It now belonged to them.
If you brought out the lease they had signed, which was to last as long as the sun shines, the grass grows and the rivers flow, they would excuse themselves by saying that the lease was signed by their grandfather, who is now dead. But, anyway, lease or no lease, they do not intend to pay rent anymore. And, by the way, they are not going to pay for the house either.
Then to add insult to injury, suppose you were sent to live up in the attic and the strangers took over all the more beautiful rooms of your house? Meanwhile, the ones who took your house would keep telling you how lucky you are to have a roof over your head. You are expected to be thankful to them for their generosity.
If this happened to you, would you feel that you had been treated fairly? Would you feel that justice had been done? Perhaps you would feel as the First Nations feel. Perhaps you would feel that the rent on this house we call Canada - with its vast treasures of gold, silver, diamonds, oil, trees and countless other resources - the rent that is so long overdue should be paid.
The Canadian Constitution says that the aboriginal people have an inherent, never relinquished, and legally enforceable right to look after their own affairs, so let's follow Canadian law and let them out of the attic.
Our Town is an Expositor feature that presents news and views from some of the smaller communities in the area. George Beaver is a retired educator and freelance writer.