[MUSIC] We've previously looked at how policies of the Canadian government have resulted in deep systemic, institutional and personal racism against Indigenous people. Recall the residential school system. It is important to understand that there are differences between racism and prejudice, differences between institutional and personal racism, and between conscious and unconscious racism. Briefly, racism is often said to refer to the processes through which certain aspects of humanity's physical and cultural differences are emphasized, elevated and distinguished between in ways that privilege certain groups while oppressing others. Because of this structural element of racism, scholars suggest that individual acts should be understood as examples of prejudice, while racism itself should be reserved for more structural examples like court cases, legislation, grade school textbooks and so on. Likewise, Canadians can often act in ways that reproduce racism without knowing they're doing so. This is termed unconscious racism, these various forms of racism develop through the common social, educational, and institutional narratives of a society. Most of the research on urban Indigenous people over the last number of decades has been focused on the exclusion of Indigenous people, meaning that many Indigenous residents have and continue to live on the fringes of Canadian urban society at a much higher rate than other cultural groups. As we already discussed, there is some evidence that there is a growing middle class of Indigenous urban residents. However, the underpinning racial prejudice, based on ideas Indigenous people do not belong in urban spaces, continues to exist. The history of colonial policies in Canada over the last 150 years has resulted in the creation of deep and lasting stereotypes of Indigenous people, and perception and treatment. Many Indigenous people living in urban centres experience many forms of racism, often on a daily basis. They may be denied applications while in search of a place to live, or a job once they meet in person, or if they have a noticeable accent over the phone. Indigenous urban residents have reported that they have intentionally and frequently hidden their identity and monitored their appearance and behaviour to avoid the experience of racism in their daily lives. Racism is also experienced during interactions with police and health and social services systems, as well as what the ongoing sexual violence and degradation of Indigenous women. [MUSIC] >> One of the myths that Canada holds really dear is the idea that if it was racist in the past, it's no longer racist. And we're used to thinking and talking about racism in the past, around things like removal of Aboriginal people from urban spaces as they grew. If you think about things like the Michel Band, or you think about things like Papaschase First Nation, it's just over here. But, of course, urban Aboriginality has a very strong contingent or component to it of dealing with racism in a contemporary context. And there's more kind of discussed forms of racism, things like the Starlight Tours in Saskatoon and other places, as well as the murder of Pamela George. But there's also a form of racism, a kind of conceptual racism, through which the ways that we think and talk about Aboriginal people become narrowed down to things like, Aboriginal people become problems to be dealt with, rather than partners to be engaged with. >> Specific examples of the sometimes intense hostility displayed by police in the justice system towards both Indigenous men and women have become well-known in some western cities. One of the most notorious cases was the murder of Neil Stonechild and the Stonechild inquiry into the so-called Starlight Tours, a practice by which police officers would transport native men to the edge of the city, remove their jackets and shoes, and direct them to "cool off" or walk home in the middle of winter. Neil Stonechild's frozen body was found on the outskirts of Saskatoon in November of 1990. He was last seen alive in police custody. After ten years, with no resolve for his family about the circumstances of his death, three other young Indigenous men were found dead in the same area. One Indigenous man, Darrel Night, manage to make it to safety from the freezing temperatures. Another example that has become symbolic of the violence against Indigenous peoples and the failure of the judicial system is the 1995 murder of a young Saulteaux woman named Pamela George. She was killed in Regina by two white male university students, who are not charged with murder but a lesser sentence of manslaughter with the reasoning that, as a sex worker, Pamela's high risk lifestyle contributed to her death. This ruling symbolizes the deep systemic racism, marginalization, and justified violence against Indigenous women that was discussed previously in other lessons. These accounts are but two glimpses into the hundreds of testimonies of racialized violence. That is a harsh reality of historical and modern Indigenous experience, experience that has been formally documented in various studies, inquiries and during the royal commission on Aboriginal peoples process in the 1990s. What does it mean to say, cities are where Indigenous culture goes to die? Is it true? We know that specific government policies were developed to force or encourage the migration of Indigenous peoples to cities with the intent to finalize our assimilation into Canadian society. The expectation was that, yes, cities were the places where Indigenous peoples would go to assimilate and become civilized. And with it, Indigenous culture would slowly fade unto the growing dominance of mainstream Canadian society. There's some truth to this notion. When we think back to the central role that traditional subsistence culture and the connection to land had on influencing the identity of many Indigenous groups, we can see how urban environments could be disconnected from Indigenous identity. Dene and Inuit from the Northwest Territories, the Nunatsiavut, Nunavik, and Nunavut, for example, often express their cultures through their retained practices of hunting, fishing, trapping, whaling, and otherwise harvesting and preparing traditional foods. Being on the land is deeply connected to the northern Indigenous identity, and northerners often report feeling alienated in urban settings. That being said, we have previously discussed that identity is somewhat fluid. It is grounded in our shared history and ways of being, but it is also more than that. As Indigenous peoples we have embraced modernity, engage with urban spaces and western institutions, and adapted our cultural practices to honour our Indigenous ways of being, while acknowledging the realities of modern life. Many Inuit who are living in southern cities have come together to form social, health and educational organizations, that have resulted in the creation of southern Inuit communities within urban spaces. In Ottawa, for example, there are over 735 Inuit who call the city home. Inuit organizations based out of Ottawa have become the main gateways for Inuit, who come south from the eastern Arctic for medical treatment, to seek higher education, and are in search of alternative employment opportunities. Many Inuit maintain strong connections to their home communities and extensive food sharing networks mean that Inuit living in the south frequently receive traditional northern food like fish, maktaaq or whale blubber, and caribou and muskox meat from relatives who are visiting southern cities. There are also strong language and culture programs run out of the city of Ottawa, along with the national Inuit organization. Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami, or ITK, which represents the four Inuit regions: Nunatsiavut, Nunavik, Nunavut and the Inuvialuit Settlement Region in the Northwest Territories. The ITK is a national advocacy group that speaks to Inuit interests across Canada. We can now begin to understand the notion of cities as engines of cultural power, which we will examine in more detail next. So far we have focused on the ways in which urban environments aim to extinguish Indigenous cultural practices and ways of being. We have also learned that these intended outcomes were not successful. Now we're going to go a little deeper into the discussion of the ways in which urban centres have become engines of cultural power. Numerous urban institutions and organizations deliver services to the urban Indigenous population. We briefly discussed the development of an Inuit community in Ottawa and how the national interests of Inuit are represented by an urban based Inuit institution. But many other types of urban Indigenous organizations, grounded in Indigenous worldview and culture, represent and serve the diverse Aboriginal communities of Canada's cities. Let's begin by talking about one of the most well-known and long-standing urban Indigenous organizations, the Friendship Centre. Friendship Centres, or at least the concept of them, began in 1951, as more and more Aboriginal people were moving from reserves and other rural areas, to urban spaces. Individuals pushed for the establishment of organizations to help address some of the needs expressed by First Nations, Métis, and Inuit communities. At first, Friendship Centres relied on volunteers, and were funded by small grants, churches, and fundraising efforts. Over time, Friendship Centres began to organize into provincial and territorial associations, and eventually, in 1972, the National Association of Friendship Centres was established to represent Friendship Centres nationally. Friendship Centres are often the place where many Indigenous residents will go first when moving to a new place. The Friendship Centre can connect people to a local community. They provide cultural support and are a place to learn about how to access services that support employment and housing searches or perhaps local educational opportunities. As we learned earlier, many Indigenous residents in cities report feeling just as connected to other Indigenous people living in urban spaces, as they do to their home community, and the Friendship Centre is the hub of Indigenous culture. Friendship Centres and similar institutions play a central role in providing culturally based programs and services for urban Indigenous residents. Such programs often aim to bridge the gap between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people in urban settings. Friendship Centres draw from multiple Indigenous worldviews and teachings that are representative of the Indigenous people who access their services. Indigenous residents may visit a Friendship Centre when they are looking for employment and training support. Educational information, health services and to connect with other community organizations. The National Association of Friendship Centres represents 118 individual centres and seven provincial or territorial associations across Canada. In 1990, Neechi Commons began as, Neechi Foods, a grocery co-op in Winnipeg's inner city. It is a worker co-op and employees are co-op members. Neechi not only provides employment and is Winnipeg's largest commercial employer of Aboriginal people, it also provides quality foods and produce at reasonable prices, offers a subsidized fruit basket for kids and links to Aboriginal producers by purchasing fish, berries, and wild rice. Now in a newly renovated heritage building, it has expanded its services and community profile to include a restaurant, catering, a fruit and vegetable market, and an art store. In its own words, it is truly a community store based around the principles of an Aboriginal owned and operated worker cooperative. It works in partnership with the local investment towards employment and social purchasing portal to encourage development and employment in the local community. Nonetheless, Neechi Commons faces the challenges of competing with large grocery retailers. As well, Neechi Commons serves as a place of cultural power, reaching out to local artists, designers, musicians, and other community members by offering space for community projects. Take, for example, Rebecca Belmore's community-based project comprised of handmade clay beads called Trace which is now part of the permanent collection at the Canadian Museum of Human Rights. While this large scale surrounding blanket project is discussed further in a later lesson, it is important to mention it in this context as an example of cultural power. Belmore used a corner room in Neechi Commons as an accessible collective space for people to participate in making clay beads. Neechi Commons facilitated cultural power in the form of public engagement and activism by providing the time and space for the community to participate. [MUSIC]
