How a Cree-Sikh biker brought together a cross-cultural ride for reconciliation
Clare Bonnyman | Posted: October 28, 2021 6:47 PM | Last Updated: June 29, 2022
After the discovery of unmarked burial sites Bava Dhillon took to his motorcycle
Bava Dhillon loves his motorcycle.
He rides a 2006 Harley-Davidson Fat Boy custom, with custom air bags, a custom paint job and every chrome piece imaginable.
And while he's proud of his 'horse', the real pride comes from sharing his love of bikes with his father Paul.
"My dad describes it really clearly: when you're on your bike, it's the most free feeling you can feel," he said.
Hi father, Paul Dhillon, is Sikh and moved to Canada in 1976, where he met Bava's mother Barind, a Cree woman from Northern Manitoba. Their romance started on a motorcycle sharing long rides between Snow Lake and Flin Flon.
If you can put your arms out and feel comfortable while you're riding a bike, you feel like an eagle soaring through the sky. - Bava Dhillon
They passed on this love of the road to their children and it's something Dhillon, who calls himself a 'double-Indian', carries in his core.
"It's not the safest thing," he admitted. "But if you can put your arms out and feel comfortable while you're riding a bike you feel like an eagle soaring through the sky."
That's how it felt, he said, when he led more than 100 bikers onto the site of a former Indigenous residential school in Brandon, Man.
Sioux Valley Dakota Nation have been working have been working at this site since 2019 to investigate suspected unmarked graves there. So far, they have identified 104 potential graves in three cemeteries at the site, but only 78 of them are accountable through historical records.
Connecting his cultural communities
It began when a member of the Royal Riders, a Sikh motorcycle club in Winnipeg, reached out to Dhillon.
"They approached me, being half Sikh and half Cree, and said … Can you tell us more? Can you take us to the residential school?," he said. "Our riders want to ride in solidarity to bring awareness to what's happening in our backyard."
Dhillon didn't know about his Cree identity until he was 12. His mother attended a residential school in northern Manitoba. It changed the course of her life.
"My mom didn't want to talk about it. My mom wasn't proud of it," he remembers. "And that wasn't her fault.… They taught my mom to be ashamed of who she was."
As he's grown and explored both of identities, Dhillon has worked to connect Winnipeg's Sikh and Cree communities and break down the negative stereotypes that affect both. He's a proud member of the Sapotaweyak Cree Nation, serving on band council, and has found similarities between the Sikh faith he grew up in and the Cree beliefs he's learned.
When he was approached by the Royal Riders, he knew this was a chance for healing and learning.
"We're uncovering the truth of Canada right now. We're discovering bodies of children," he said. "It's the truth of Canada that nobody ever knew about."
A ride for reconciliation
On June 27, more than 100 bikers from different faith and cultural communities gathered in the parking lot of the Dhillon family dealership in Winnipeg. They wore orange shirts, turbans and a lot of leather — and were led by a trailer that read "Every Child Matters."
"That was a day to bring two worlds together," Dhillon said. "It was a euphoric feeling."
They rode single file, stretched more than a kilometre along the Trans Canada Highway through hard rain. More than two hours later they parked on the grounds of the former residential school, just northwest of Brandon along the Assiniboine River.
They were met by former chief of the Sioux Valley Dakota Nation Vince Tacan and leaders from Treaty 2 territory, who welcomed them with ceremony and prayers.
- Where were Manitoba's residential schools — and what stands there now?
- Sioux Valley Dakota Nation working to identify children buried at Brandon residential school site
Truth on two wheels
In Dhillon's mind, the best way to raise awareness is on the back of a bike.
"There's no better visual effect than when you see 50, or 10, or five — but when you see 150 motorcycles riding down the highway in a single file line?" he said, as he shook his head.
"Our message was heard."
The ride was also a comfort, leaning into the strength and connection he feels when he rides.
"When you're on that horse, and you're on that two-wheel machine, a flick of that throttle can take you anywhere you want to go," he said.
After the success of this year's ride, Dhillon wants to go bigger. He's part of a group organizing a cross-country ride for reconciliation, to bring together bikers from communities nationwide.
Dhillon says his bike is a way to bridge gaps, and to spread a message he's lived his whole life.
"Whether you're black, white, brown, yellow… it really doesn't matter because at the end of the day when you pull up to a Tim Hortons that has 10 to 15 bikes on a Sunday afternoon, and you're riding your bike ... you guys are all the same people. You all love the same thing," he said.
"You're riding on a two-wheel machine that helps you in your own way."
This segment originally aired in Oct., 2021.