My ancestors' First Nations culture was stripped away. I want to work to bring it back
Julianna Maggrah grew up near a reserve, but didn't see or feel First Nations culture
CBC Saskatchewan's Creator Network is a place where young digital storytellers from diverse backgrounds can produce original video content to air on CBC and tell stories through their own lens. Get in touch or pitch your own story here.
Some people think that all First Nations people take part in cultural activities like drumming, pow wows, sweats and ceremonies, but I didn't witness or experience any of that as a child or teen.
I had to search for my culture on my own as an adult.
I was born in La Ronge, a small town that borders a reserve in northern Saskatchewan.
My family was made up of trappers and hunters and spoke fluent Cree, but they didn't know about their culture. They could live off of the land, but they didn't know about their ancestor's spiritual connection to the land.
WATCH | Julianna Maggrah talks about how she finally connected with her Indigenous culture:
Before the age of 30, I had never smudged, set foot into a powwow, picked medicine or picked up a drum.
I didn't know what it meant to be Indigenous. All I knew was that I had some internalized shame about who I was that I wanted to let go of.
I learned that a lot of people felt that shame, including my friend Meagan Nolan, who was born and raised in an urban setting in Saskatoon, and felt an undercurrent of racism.
Meagan's mother went to school in a convent and was classified as "Eurasian", but she was actually from a Métis settlement near Willow Bunch, Sask.
Still, she would never talk about it. Meagan's sister never wanted to admit they were Indigenous or Métis either. Instead, she clung to the Eurasian title. Meagan learned not to ask her mother about her heritage.
For many Indigenous people, that shame about who they were came from the Catholic-run residential schools, which aimed to erase Indigenous identity. My friend Cathy Wheaton-Bird can attest to that.
Cathy said that even though her parents and grandparents didn't attend residential schools, the church was present — and aggressive — in their communities.
She said the church's influence caused people to internalize negative beliefs about themselves.
As I got older, I wanted to hear about my people's history and traditions — things I would learn were illegal for a long time, such as powwows, dancing and other types of ceremonies.
I grew up experiencing the effects of a generational trauma, which left me feeling empty and with mental health issues. I struggled on my own until I found a knowledge keeper that taught me and others what they knew about Indigenous culture.
I picked medicine and learned about the connection people had to the land. I went to ceremony and learned about the spiritual aspect of my ancestors. I joined a drum group and learned about the drum.
As I began to practise these things regularly, and learned about the Indigenous worldview, I felt a sense of connection that I had been sorely missing.
I felt like I was around people that I fit in with, and actually began to feel peace.
My drum group was invited to sing a few songs during Culture Days in La Ronge recently. I was quite proud that a group of two spirit people and women would be drumming in a town where I had felt deep shame about my identity as a kid.
The drum emulates the sound of a heartbeat. The vibrations of the beat and the voices bring healing. They are medicine.
Culture was stripped away from my people. I want to bring it back.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
