'A one-of-a-kind experience': Growing up Black and Indigenous in Saskatchewan

The story originally published on Feb. 28, 2023.

When Tanya Ironchild from Piapot First Nation was a little girl, her mother knew Tanya would have a tough childhood. 

"I wasn't dark enough for my Black side, and I was too dark for my native side," Ironchild recalled.

"She let me know that my grandmother wasn't OK with biracial children, so that was something that I didn't understand when she told me. As I got older, I understood what she meant by that."

Ironchild, 37, identifies as Indigenous and Jamaican. She describes her mother as a strong Métis woman, born and raised in Regina. Ironchild never had much of a relationship with her biological father, who immigrated to Canada from Jamaica.

Ironchild's dual cultures affect the way she raises her children and the way she sees herself. 

When Ironchild was still very young, her mother met Michael Ironchild of Piapot First Nation, about 50 kilometres northwest of Regina, and they quickly fell in love. Michael soon adopted Tanya and her two sisters.

"He came and he met my mom's beautiful three black children. Back then it was rare for a native man to take us immediately as his own."

I wasn't dark enough for my Black side, and I was too dark for my native side.- Tanya Ironchild

But Michael, she says, was a special man.

"He made sure that when we went back to the reserve that we weren't treated any different," Ironchild said. "And there was — I'm going to be completely honest — a little bit of an issue when we were young."

But Michael would often tell Ironchild and her sisters that they were no different than others at Piapot, despite the colour of their skin. 

"He really, really protected us. And when we went home it wasn't always welcoming, but eventually that changed."

Chosen community

While Piapot is her First Nation, Ironchild was raised in Regina's North Central neighbourhood. Despite some pushback from new relatives, shes says in general her Indigenous community was welcoming to her. 

"I go anywhere and you can just tell from the way that I carry myself, my energy … I'm Aboriginal."

Ironchild was raised with traditional Indigenous beliefs and ceremony. Her mother taught her daughters to be proud of who they are. At the same time, Ironchild says, she knows very little about her Jamaican side. She does not have a relationship with her father or any of her Jamaican relatives.

"There's no desire there. I am very grounded and connected with my Aboriginal side and the family that I have there."

However, as she's grown older, Ironchild has taken ownership of her Jamaican identity. She has built her chosen Caribbean family in Regina, and her children even even do traditional Caribbean dancing alongside powwow dancing.

"I am connected to my Jamaican side, just not in the sense of having a family — not in a sense of being able to call an auntie or an uncle or a grandmother. It's not that way. It's in a knowingness of myself — that there's another half of me and I sought that out. I decided to reach out to my Black community," Ironchild said. 

"I might not be connected or know my roots, but I know my roots. It just came naturally."

The future generation

Ironchild's mother died in 2018. 

"After losing my mother, I found my comfort in prayer, in smudging and calling on my ancestors. This has always been taught to us girls," she said. 

Growing up, Ironchild's sisters did fancydancing and jingledress, while she was the jigger in the family. 

"But it was when [my mother] passed away that my roots and everything that she taught me really came to surface. Understanding that I could talk to her just by lighting this smoke."

Ironchild says times have changed since she was a little girl. Being a biracial child is a lot more normal that it was when she was young.

"It almost blows [my children's] minds, to be completely honest, when I share with them some of the walls and hurdles that I faced being a native and Jamaican woman … It just blows their mind because they don't have to deal with that — and I'm really grateful for that."

She doesn't feel that her children encounter the the problem she faced. Her children have never told her they feel too dark or not dark enough.

"The way my daughter and my son carry themselves and they understand, you know, powwow and tradition … It's not something that was made to feel uncomfortable ever," Ironchild said. 

And it excites her to see reconciliation being taught at her children's schools.

"I remember when my dad [Michael] was going through his reconciliation, I didn't know why he was crying. I didn't know where that hurt came from. I didn't understand why him and my mom were sitting in the room with the door closed. I didn't know," Ironchild said.

"And then when they came out and they talked to us, it turned into anger. It was very difficult."

Her stepfather Michael was a residential school survivor. Ironchild found that out when she was 14, and she was shocked because she had never been taught about that history in school. 

"So the simple fact that my children understand who they are and our ancestors before us … the fight that they had to fight for us to get to where we are … I'm just happy."

Breaking barriers

Ironchild isn't the only one excited for her Black and Indigenous children's future.

Michael Desjarlais, 28, also hails from the Piapot First Nation and grew up in Regina's North Central neighbourhood. 

His daughter, 2½, is growing up around powwows, rounddances and other Indigenous ceremonies, and Desjarlais plans to raise her to be comfortable with both her Indigenous and Jamaican cultures.

"I'm excited. I think she'll get a lot more social inclusion. She'll be accepted in all circles. I want her to know who she is, just to build a sense of identity for herself. So she's not lost in the world," he said. 

She'll be accepted in all circles. I want her to know who she is, just to build a sense of identity for herself, so she's not lost in the world.- Michael Desjarlais

Desjarlais is passionate about his heritage. His mother is Cree and Sioux. His father, a Jamaican who moved to Canada when he was around the age of seven, suffers from addiction issues, and Desjarlais didn't meet him until he himself was about seven. While they do speak, Desjarlais says, their relationship is not a particularly close one. 

When he was young, there were not a lot of other Black children at his mostly Indigenous school. Yet, Desjarlais says, he felt largely accepted there; it was the older people in his life who weren't immediately accepting of his being biracial. 

"When I was young I had a grandparent that didn't particularly accept that I was Black, and it took him like a couple of months for them to come and meet me and accept that I was there," Desjarlais recalled.

"I broke the barriers down, you could say."

Desjarlais attributes those early times he felt unaccepted to the way older family members were raised.

"They didn't know how to accept those types of people. They never came across them most of their lives, and they didn't really want to have to. It was kind of out of their comfort zone."

But, like Ironchild, Desjarlais says times have changed. 

"It's just a lot more accepting. There's a lot of kids like me. Like before, I was a real minority in a minority. Now, I have lots of little cousins and then my cousins have kids too, so you can't really be so rigid in your beliefs of not accepting those types of people," he said.

Pride in his roots

Desjarlais has deep ties to his Caribbean roots. When he was a boy, he would visit his family in Jamaica for months at a time.

"My Caribbean family is super accepting. I look very Black, you know, so it is more difficult for me to fit in with the native side than it was for the Black side," Desjarlais said.

"Jamaicans are very community-focused. When you see a Jamaican and you run into each other, you always say hello or like, you know, give each other [a] nod. It's just very much like a community in the Caribbean circles."

Desjarlais also was very involved in Indigenous feasts, sweats and other cultural events: "I'm very in tune with both sides of the culture."

Desjarlais says he is very proud to be a Black Indigenous man. 

"It's a one-of-a-kind experience. I have a sense of identity. I have different experiences, different beliefs, and it's nice to share them with people."

For more stories about the experiences of Black Canadians — from anti-Black racism to success stories within the Black community — check out Being Black in Canada, a CBC project Black Canadians can be proud of. You can read more stories here.