The guide said, “There used to be school trips here all the time, from Saskatoon, even Winnipeg, eight hours by bus. But there have been cutbacks and there aren’t so many any more.” As Billy-Ray Belcourt writes in his “Ode to Northern Alberta”,
history lays itself bare
at the side of the road
but no one is looking
Hayden King, who drafted the Territorial Acknowledgement for Toronto’s Ryerson University, now regrets it. “If it’s just a superficial box that you check… it effectively excuses [non-Indigenous settlers] from doing the hard work of learning.” Still, he says, if someone is hearing the acknowledgement for the first time, it has value.
Local Métis writer Chelsea Vowel says, “Territorial Acknowledgements drive me up the wall. They’re no longer unsettling” (pun noted). Yet when she attended a conference in Oakland, California, and there were no acknowledgements she found it “weird.” She wanted to know whose land they were on.
So Territorial Acknowledgments are initially useful, but can become as automatic and weightless as “Have a nice day.”
Lost in Translation
In the meantime, my journey continues with trying to learn some Cree. English is a noun-based language, but at the first class our teacher Lori Tootoosis said, “Oh yes, we have nouns, but we are not so interested in them.” Cree is verb-based. “I want to stretch your minds,” she said, and then told us that in Cree the colours are verbs.
The experience has already sent me back to Treaty 6, unique among the treaties in promising a “medicine chest.” My ancestors interpreted this as the equivalent of a first-aid kit. A thing. A noun. The Indigenous peoples interpreted this as the equivalent of Medicare. An ongoing process. A verb. How can you reach mutual understanding when the basic conceptions of language are so different?
Treaty 6 is many things — a linguistic construct, a social space, a landscape. I’m still coming to terms with the land. I want to ride the mountain portion this spring (though there are some dirt roads north of Edson and I might need another motorcycle). We need artists and activists, but, I would respectfully suggest, we also need road trips. For how can we acknowledge what we cannot imagine? It starts with the land.