Traditional food is prepared in a tipi at the Inakaanesowin Maamowishkaawin, or Building Nations Gathering, by the Nishnawbe Aski Nation in Thunder Bay on Nov. 13, 2022.David Jackson/The Globe and Mail
In the corner of a hotel conference room outside of Thunder Bay, a group of young Anishinaabe men sit around their drum, singing songs in the same Anishinaabemowin language that is being taught in another room down the hall. Outside in a garage, knowledge keepers tan hide and prepare bear grease.
At the weekend gathering, Nishnawbe Aski Nation, or NAN – a political territorial organization representing 49 mostly remote First Nations – helped facilitate a connection between young people and their Anishinaabe cultures. The Inakaanesowin Maamowishkaawin (Building Nations) event saw over 120 youth, mostly teenagers, come together with elders and knowledge keepers in a series of workshops on topics such as hand-drum teachings and traditional food preparation.
The activities are among some of the cultural practices that have slowly been making their way back into the lives of Indigenous youth in Northern Ontario.
Peter Shebagabow, of Long Lac 58 First Nation, works on fleshing the hide of a moose as part of tanning the skin into leather.David Jackson/The Globe and Mail
The space to deliver these kinds of teachings spanned quiet, intimate sharing circles among women discussing pow wow and dancing techniques, to two tipis erected outside beneath snowy hills where a firekeeper watched over the flames that receives medicines and prayers from those visiting.
Christianity has had a stronghold in the remote north for generations, when traditional ways and practices were banished, and sacred items such as pipes and drums were buried. The residential-school system, run by churches and funded by the federal government, also banned cultural ways and punished young Indigenous children for speaking their languages – causing direct and intergenerational traumas to them, their families and communities.
“Our grandparents and our parents never had that time to share with us young people, about our language and our teachings that our ancestors received before the Europeans came to our territories,” said Linden Waboose, who is from Eabameetoong First Nation and a member of NAN’s Oshkaatisak Youth Council.
Pamela Hardy of Rocky Bay First Nations reduces bear fat into grease.David Jackson/The Globe and Mail
“We are in 2022, almost 2023, where we have that right of freedom to learn about our own traditional languages and our own traditional values and beliefs.”
Youth engagement co-ordinator Joseph Carew said these kinds of gatherings are about cultural restoration and revitalization.
“We’re bringing everybody here – the young people, the elders, just because they both hold knowledge, they both hold power,” Mr. Carew said.
“I think oftentimes, there’s a disconnect, where the young people don’t feel like they’re connected to the kind of inner workings of the community, Chief and Council, the political body.”
At the gathering, Kanina Terry shared her knowledge as an Anishinaabe hide tanner from Lac Seul First Nation learning how to utilize all parts of animals such as moose and deer. She said that while a lot of Anishinaabe people and communities have maintained traditional food knowledge through hunting and harvesting animals, other practices such as hide tanning were left behind.
Elder Bella Patayash, of Kitchenuhmay-Koosib Inniwug First Nation prepares bannock and cedar tea in a tipi while assisting with traditional foods.David Jackson/The Globe and Mail
Ms. Terry is helping to change that by first building skills at home where a moose shot by her brother feeds her family and puts hide-tanned moccasins on their feet.
“The loss of hide tanning is a big product of assimilation and just being told our ways aren’t needed any more because the other ways, they’re easier, they’re better. But if you’ve ever sewn on commercial moose hide you know that’s not true,” she said.
Pamela Hardy, an Anishinaabe from Rocky Bay First Nation east of Thunder Bay, has spent years learning from and building a relationship with traditional medicines such as bear fat. She doesn’t consider it work, although the process to make bear fat takes two days and requires patience. Standing beside a propane-fueled deep fryer at the conference, she gently stirred simmering chunks that can be used to treat a number of ailments including skin conditions, body aches and pains.
Ms. Hardy doesn’t believe these ways were lost, but sees it as Anishinaabe returning to their original roles. She said young people trying for the first time activities such as hide tanning – a labour-intensive process that involves soaking, stretching, scraping and wringing – will sometimes experience thoughts or memories that feel familiar.
“That’s your blood memory,” she said.