logo
#

Latest news with #Couchiching

Point Park returned to Northern Ontario First Nations after 27 year-long struggle
Point Park returned to Northern Ontario First Nations after 27 year-long struggle

Hamilton Spectator

time30-06-2025

  • General
  • Hamilton Spectator

Point Park returned to Northern Ontario First Nations after 27 year-long struggle

The smell of walleye and the sound of live music wafted through Point Park on Indigenous Peoples Day. Under the 30C sun, dozens of children ran between the beach and inflatable, bouncy castles. Susan Councillor took in the ruckus under a lone tree at the edge of the park. Across the mouth of Rainy River to her right, you could see International Falls, Minnesota. To her left, Couchiching First Nation was visible on the southern shore of Rainy Lake. And behind her, the highway met the Town of Fort Frances. All of this action right in the middle felt to her like the good old days. 'This is awesome. We haven't had something like this anywhere, (a place) to sit and enjoy music and visit with people. There used to be pow wows here, there used to be fairgrounds. There used to be baseball,' she said. 'It's such a beautiful piece of land but it wasn't being utilized for anything. When the organizers planned this, they didn't know about the verdict that came out on Wednesday. It just fell into place.' She was referring to a June 17 summary ruling 27 years in the making, which returns this sliver of land known as Point Park to the nearby Couchiching, Mitaanjigamiing, Naicatchewenin, and Nigigoonsiminikaaning First Nations, collectively known as Agency One. A contested history The Point where Rainy Lake meets Rainy River has always been a landing point for trade between First Nations. Between 1871 and 1888, it was also home to Robert J.N. Pither, the Indian agent for Couchiching and one of two commissioners who signed Treaty 3 in 1873. The other commissioner of the agreement with 28 First Nations that covers a 55,000-square-mile area in northwestern Ontario and southeastern Manitoba, Simon Dawson, sent a report to Canada's Governor General on Dec. 31, 1874 in which he proposed guaranteed reserves. Those included Reserve No.1, also known as the Agency One Reserve. Dawson described it as follows:'At the foot of Rainy Lake, to be laid off as nearly as may be indicated on the plan. Two chains in depth along the shore of Rainy Lake and the bank of Rainy River, to be reserved for roads, right of way to lumbermen, booms, wharves and other public purposes. 'This Indian Reserve not to be for any particular chief or band, but for the Saulteuse tribe, generally, and for the purpose of maintaining thereon an Indian Agency generally with the necessary grounds and buildings.' Settlers surveyed roads through the area in the decade that followed, incorporating the township of McIrvine in 1894. McIrvine grew into Fort Frances, which became a township in 1903. Ontario was not only eager to recognize surveyed roads and townships in the district to encourage agricultural development, but it was also embroiled in a dispute over its border with Manitoba through the late 1880s and early 1890s. Laws recognizing settler property and Indigenous land rights moved quickly and inconsistently. The residents of Fort Frances, meanwhile, extensively lobbied senior levels of government to hand over the Agency One land to them for a park. Those efforts culminated in Canada signing a 99-year lease to the town in 1908. In 1998, the four First Nations that make up Agency One filed a statement of claim against Canada for breach of fiduciary duty, alleging maladministration. They added Ontario and Fort Frances as parties in 2008. The town issued a counterclaim the following year, asserting it rightfully owned the park. Justice Fregeau agreed with Canada and Ontario in the decision, ruling that the Agency One Reserve, 'was a validly created reserve' and that Canada, 'did not intend to publicly dedicate the land' when it leased the park to Fort Frances. Fregeau then dismissed the town's claims of $50-million for breach of promise as well as its $2-million reimbursement claim for 'unjust enrichment' over the capital improvements the municipality made. 'This land was always ours' Under the tent, Nigigoonsiminikaaning Chief Terry Allan held a microphone in one hand and an eagle feather in the other as he explained the decision's meaning to the assembled crowd. 'Every elder knew, every chief knew, every community knew — this land was always ours, and it will be for thousands of years,' Allan said. 'Just try to picture yourself here thousands of years ago. Picture these drums. Those songs, these drums, they don't change. They've been here for thousands of years. The ceremonies we're going to be doing once again here on these lands, picture the kids running around, picture people fishing, picture the canoes here. Picture all those things. They're going to come back here.' As a boy, elder William Yerxa remembers running to the beach to watch those canoes make the last leg of their journey across the bay. They'd come from communities as far east as Seine River, nearly 100 kilometres away. Yerxa is a member of Little Eagle Band, a descendent of the treaty signatory to the Point. He said his elders told him that the land rightfully belonged to him, that Pither was a thief, and that one day, he'd have to talk about it.'Somebody was here before me a long time ago and they watched over the land. They cared for it. They took care of the water, they took care of the land, they took care of the animals, they took what they needed. They belonged to the land – and we are the land. That's why it matters to me,' he said, tugging at his t-shirt that read 'It's All Indian Land.' 'We won the court case. We're different. You can feel that lightness flowing within them now. That's theirs, it's ours. It's who we are.' The case has carried on for nearly the entire life of Yerxa's 34-year-old granddaughter, Cheyenne Vandermeer. Vandermeer is now the Deputy Grand Chief of Grand Council Treaty #3, the territory's traditional government. Vandermeer remembers the four communities would hold spring and fall feasts from when she was too young to understand why the chiefs were meeting under a tent in the park. Yerxa took her to where Pither and the railroad had disturbed the burial mounds of her ancestors, along the riverbanks where shards of ancient pottery are still resting in the sand between the stones. Her job in politics keeps her on the road but every day she's home, she walks to the rapids to offer tobacco. 'He always said we never gave it to them, we said they could borrow it and now it's done and it's time for them to give it back,' she recalled of her grandfather's teachings. 'I think from our side of things, we were willing to share our territory, but we never did surrender it. I think they're going to have to learn to be in relationship with the chiefs and communities, who are caretakers of this land.' A long road to decolonization The small steps Fort Frances has taken toward reconciliation are visible from this spot. The sign that read 'Pither's Point' was removed in 2014. That sign was on the off-ramp from the waterfront street that used to be called 'Colonization Drive.' In 2021, it was renamed 'Agamiing Drive,' which is Anishinaabemowin term to describe the edge of the water. But some among the settler population resisted those changes and the city's stance during the case reflected that. The municipality's mailout leaflets in the late 2010s incorrectly informed Fort Frances residents the First Nations had 'surrendered' the park. They listed a number of other First Nations lawsuits and land claims framed as encroaching on private property interests, even inferring the price of electricity could be in jeopardy. In summation, they read, 'All the Town is looking for is to preserve the Point Park and roads for everyone to use and enjoy. The town has made many attempts to settle these matters. The town's proposals to date, have been rejected, however, the Town will continue to seek solutions that will preserve the park use as it has existed for over a hundred years' (original emphasis). Fort Frances Mayor Andrew Hallikas and his council bucked eight terms of their predecessors on Monday when they voted unanimously to abandon further appeals to ownership over Point Park. Their public statement says council members 'acknowledge and regret the damage done to our relationship with Agency One,' recognizing the toll the prolonged case took on residents, staff, and members of area First Nations.'I'm very proud of this council for putting an end to what seemed to me to be endless litigation,' Hallikas said. 'I'm pleased they took a position that will allow us to move forward toward our journey to reconciliation. I really want it to be a time of healing. I want to see a rebuilding of trust and it takes time to build trust, but it's a beginning.' The first meeting between the town manager and the CEO of Agency One resulted in a commitment to joint funding for fireworks on Canada Day at Point Park. Over the four decades Couchiching First Nation Chief Richard Bruyere has been fighting this battle, he said he's watched members of his community integrate with the town's young people in sports and school. He's watched more of his community's members working in the municipality and some choosing to live there. He has watched the political needle move slowly and he's hopeful over the Fort Frances' council's promise to improve the relationship across the park that has been allowed to come between them for so long. 'There seems to be a new way of thinking,' Bruyere reflected. 'It's a beautiful spot and it's going to go on being that way. It's incumbent on us as First Nations people to keep that beauty there. I don't know if 'pristine' is the right word or not but it has to be managed properly. It's new to us, we're going to stumble along the way. Not everything's going to be helping the linking of a lot of people, but we'll get there.' Error! Sorry, there was an error processing your request. There was a problem with the recaptcha. Please try again. You may unsubscribe at any time. By signing up, you agree to our terms of use and privacy policy . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google privacy policy and terms of service apply. Want more of the latest from us? Sign up for more at our newsletter page .

This co-valedictorian gave her speech in Anishnaabemowin
This co-valedictorian gave her speech in Anishnaabemowin

CBC

time01-06-2025

  • General
  • CBC

This co-valedictorian gave her speech in Anishnaabemowin

Social Sharing It was an historic moment at the Bora Laskin Law School graduation earlier this spring. Co-valedictorian Cassandra Spade gave her speech in Anishnaabemowin. Cassandra is from Mishkeegogamang First Nation but also spent a lot of her time growing up in Couchiching First Nation and she has big plans as she moves forward in her law career. She spoke with Mary-Jean Cormier, the host of Superior Morning, about those plans and what it was like giving her speech in Anishnaabemowin. This interview has been edited for length and clarity. Mary-Jean Cormier: Can you tell me what it was like to be up on stage speaking Anishnaabemowin? Cassandra Spade: I cried walking up to the stage. I was trying to hold myself together during the speech. Throughout the speech, you can hear pauses where I'm very much overcome with emotion, and it's because it's such an unimaginable thing to think that a valedictorian address would be given in an Indigenous language and especially at a law school. So, it was really special to me, but it also felt like all of the language teachers and the people who supported my language learning were in that room with me. So, it was very, very special. MC: What did you say? CS: I opened by saying that this is perhaps the first time at a Canadian law school where this address is given in an Indigenous language, specifically Anishinaabe. But I also said that this moment didn't happen by myself alone. There are a lot of people who have nurtured me and loved me and taken care of me to get me to this point and who taught me the Anishinaabe language. So, I'm not a first language speaker. I learned as an adult and I'm specifically talking about one elder from Lac Seul First Nation. She specifically told me when I first started learning that if you take care of the Anishinaabe language it will take care of you. I didn't really know what it meant at the time, but throughout law school I learned that our language holds all of our law, and by learning my language and taking care of it and practising it, I was really reinforcing our laws and learning and kind of preserving them. So it was really special to learn that in law school. MC: Speaking of law school, beyond the language piece, what did it mean for you to graduate from law school? CS: I've obtained a law degree, which is really special. I'm the first one in my family to go to law school and to graduate, and it makes me reflect on all of the people in my family who are so talented and skilled and are able to give to the community in so many different ways. So, I think about all of the things that my family has taught me specifically about kindness or thinking about other people or listening to other stories. Throughout law school, those are the skills that kind of carry you through law, and it's all about your community. And so it was really special for me because I wouldn't have been in law school had it not been for my family, my broader community, all of the support at law school. So, it really is an accomplishment to the community at large. I only did two per cent of the work and everyone else kind of did like 98 per cent of the work. MC: What drew you to this field in the first place? CS: When I was nine years old my sister was bit by a dog on our reservation. It wasn't a bad bite, it was just a little nip, but I kind of got this idea that the dog should be vaccinated and tagged in the community, not only to protect the children in the community, but also to take care of the dogs. So, at that time, I had learned that there were a lot of bylaws and policies about getting veterinarians onto reserves. So, I created this petition and with the help of my dad, I walked from house to house to house in the winter, it was very cold, to get people to sign this petition so that the community would do vaccination and tagging for the dogs. Eventually it came to fruition, and it was the first time I felt like wow, I can make some change and this is really exciting. So, since I was very young, I've always wanted to be a lawyer. MC: What kind of path do you see before you in law? CS: I'm very much interested in practicing Inaakonigewin, which is Anishinaabe law and right now across all Canadian law schools who are just kind of beginning to think about indigenous laws. This is something that I'm very passionate about. I wrote research in my last year of law that interviewed people in the Anishinaabe language so that we could talk about Anishinaabe law. It's just such a different legal system compared to the Canadian one, and I think Canadian law schools and the Canadian legal system at large has a lot to learn from Indigenous people. MC: Do you think looking at law from a different perspective could change some of the situations we're in? CS: Indigenous laws are very good at doing something called pluralism, and that's where many different legal systems can exist at the same place. So, Canadian laws, Indigenous laws and other laws like international law can all exist in a relationship together. And so although the Canadian justice system may look very different from an Anishinaabe one, the Anishinaabe structure at large can hold place for both of them. What I mean by this is the Canadian justice system is built on deterrence and denunciation, whereas the Anishinaabe one is more focused on rehabilitation and building relationships and kind of restoring people so that they can continue to be part of the community. So, Indigenous law offers Canadians a new way to think about this relationship between different legal systems and I think at this moment in time in Canada, the Canadian law structure is really struggling to think about what is that relationship. I think when people learn about Indigenous law, it offers an opportunity to start thinking about what does this relationship really look like? What should it look like? And how do we exist without really trampling on one another or trying to take over one another? MC: Who will you be working with? I think they're going to be very lucky. CS: I'm going to hopefully, upon being called to the bar and becoming a lawyer and licensed, I'll be practising in the Rainy River District at Judson Howie. But until then, I'll be a student at law, so you'll see my face around the office. I'll be supporting them in all the work and I'm so excited to be working in this region, particularly because I spent so much time growing up in Couchiching. MC: How long before you get called to the bar? I have to study for the bar and there are two exams — there's the barrister, which is basically when you go to the courthouse and you do your criminal law and you do your civil litigation and family law. And then I have to finish the solicitor's exam, which is more focused on business law and contracts and wills and estates. These giant, massive exams happen in the month of June and if I pass them, fingers crossed, I'll be called to the bar in August or early September.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store