I’ve learned the history of my people from covering court cases.
It’s a revelation I had while I was in Ottawa several months ago. I was there covering the court hearing of 35 Mi’kmaq loggers charged with cutting trees on Nova Scotia Crown land without a permit. Their case began in the Nova Scotia courts in July 1999 and after six years of appeals in the lower courts, from both the loggers and the provincial Department of Justice, the case eventually made its way to the Supreme Court of Canada in January.
I’ve been fortunate enough to follow this particular court case from beginning to end. It is very similar to the 1999 Supreme Court of Canada ruling in the Donald Marshall Jr. case, where he was acquitted of selling eels without a licence because he proved he had a treaty right to catch fish for a living. All of the same evidence and witnesses were used in both cases. The same Peace and Friendship treaties the Mi’kmaq, Maliseet and Passamaquoddy signed with the British Crown were used. The only difference in the two cases was the resource in question. In Donald Marshall’s case, it was fish. In the loggers’ case, the resource is timber.
Well anyway, here I am sitting in the courtroom of the Supreme Court of Canada in our nation’s capital. The room is jam-packed with lawyers and observers, and a few reporters. Midway through the two days of hearing the arguments, I realized that if it weren’t for this court case, I would know very little about the history of Mi’kmaq people in Atlantic Canada – my history.
I learned little about Mi’kmaq history while going to school in rural Nova Scotia. Mind you, I attended elementary and high school from the mid-1970s to the mid-’80s. The only thing I can recall being taught in elementary school is that aboriginal people lived in tee-pees before the British settlers arrived. And to be honest, the only reason I learned that is because a teacher’s aide from my home reserve was hired to assist teachers in imparting such knowledge to students – aboriginal and non-aboriginal.
It was very much the same situation when I moved on to high school. The history books we were assigned to read made very little mention of aboriginal people, especially in Atlantic Canada. I learned about the wars between the French and the British, and the War of 1812. I even learned something about Louis Riel, the Metis and the Red River Rebellion. But the only regional reference I can recall from those history books is that aboriginal people once lived in the area now known as Atlantic Canada. There was no reference to the fact that aboriginal people continue to live in this region. According to those history books, I only existed in the past.
It wasn’t until I was assigned to cover this particular case on the Mi’kmaq loggers that I really got my Mi’kmaq history lessons. The first time I heard the Mi’kmaq creation story was when Mi’kmaq Grand Keptin Stephen Augustine took the stand to tell it. I was overcome with emotion because it was a beautiful story. But I was also saddened by the fact that I was hearing it for the first time in a courtroom.
The rest of the case involved several history professors giving their impressions and opinions on the series of peace and friendship treaties signed in this region between 1725 and 1761. They testified about meetings that took place before the treaties were signed, which Mi’kmaq people traded with the British, and the relations between Mi’kmaq and the French prior to the British settlers arriving here. I was hearing all of this for the first time.
The professors’ testimony became a history lesson I was never given in any classroom. But that’s not to say that Mi’kmaq history and culture aren’t taught in schools these days. Most bands in this province have control of their education system and can provide such courses. And more schools off reserves are offering similar courses. Cape Breton University has its own department devoted to Mi’kmaq studies.
I envy the choices young Mi’kmaq students have these days when it comes to studying their own culture and history. Even though I’m only in my mid-30s, those choices weren’t there for me when I attended elementary and high school.
Maureen Googoo is a Mi’kmaq journalist living and working in Halifax.
