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Kanehsatake marks 35th anniversary of Siege
Kanehsatake marks 35th anniversary of Siege

Hamilton Spectator

time18-07-2025

  • General
  • Hamilton Spectator

Kanehsatake marks 35th anniversary of Siege

Just days before turning 80, John Cree was one of the Kanehsata'kehró:non who marched through the shady Pines and the sweltering heat of Oka streets to commemorate the Siege of Kanehsatake. For him, it's about relighting the fire that was lit in 1990. 'It's the fire of defiance, that this is our land, not their land. It's our land. We have to reassert that and let them know that we didn't go to bed and fall asleep,' he said. 'We still remember what they did. We're trying to teach our young generation what it means to stand up and say no.' By walking, he hopes to set an example to younger Kanehsata'kehró:non that if a man of his age can do it, so can they. 'I think I'm at the edge of the road, but as long as I can walk and my mouth can flip and flap and make all kinds of noises, I'll still do it,' he said. Cree was just one of about 50 community members who turned out on July 11 to remember what took place in 1990 and to demonstrate that the Kanien'kehá:ka of Kanehsatake are still taking a stand for their territory. 'I wanted to be here because myself and a few of my friends, we were the original 11 women up in the front,' said Shirley Bonspille, one of the organizers of the march. 'We took the front lines that day, and we just wanted to come together and remember why we were there, what we were standing up for, and to let people know that we are still here and we are still fighting for our lands.' The march began at the lacrosse box at 10 a.m., moving through the Pines, down residential streets, and stopping at l'Annonciation and Highway 344 before going up the hill back to the lacrosse box. 'It's all about remembering that day and what happened to us that day. Some of it I can't remember still, like a blackout. I have good memories, and I have bad memories,' she said. 'We all came together as one and we fought together as one to let everybody know that Indigenous Peoples are still here, and we're still fighting, for 500 years or more, for our lands.' Cree remembers 1990 as an experience that fortified his already strong convictions about what it means to be Onkwehón:we. 'I believed in our rights and our culture and who we are, but it even strengthened me that I needed to try to have the young ones understand how important it is, and be proud,' he said. 'You can work in white society, you can speak their language - I speak three languages. You can work there, but don't ever give up who you are as a Kanien'kehá:ka person. Follow your ways. That's the only way you're going to find yourself, the pride that you're looking for. It's not in the churches; it's in your custom, the language, everything. That's where it is.' While many of the marchers were too young to have witnessed the events of 1990, they expressed a desire to carry forward a legacy they grew up with at home, in many cases passing this legacy on to the next generation, with several young children being pushed in strollers or pulled in wagons. 'I remember taking these walks with my parents when I was a young kid, so I'm trying to teach my kids about the history and why it's important to remember the day and what happened,' said Kimberly Simon. 'I think it's really important because we'll probably hear less and less about it as time goes on. It's important to teach them the history of their community and what happened and how they're lucky to still have this land today to enjoy,' she added. 'It feels good because we're not usually unified on many things, so it's nice to see everybody just come together for something important.' Kahontóktha Beauvais said that even though the summer of 1990 was five years before she was born, she is keenly aware of the significance of the events, not least because the Oka Golf Club had threatened to desecrate the cemetery where Kanehsatake's ancestors are buried, including many members of her own family. 'It was very traumatic for our people, but we're still here. We're still letting them know that they can't just take what's ours and get away with it,' said Beauvais, who spoke of her appreciation for being able to march with her fellow community members. 'This walk is healing, it's healing for me,' she said. 'It's nice to see everybody here. We're all supporting each other, supporting those who've passed on that fought for this land for us and our future generations. I'm very proud to walk, proud that my parents, my cousins, my uncle fought in the Oka Crisis, and I'm glad that he did, because if you didn't then you wouldn't have that.' For Cree, seeing Kanehsata'kehró:non across generations march together for this commemoration is something he felt in his heart as he walked. 'It makes me feel proud that somewhere along the way, they heard some of the words we spoke, not just me, but other elders,' he said. marcus@ Marcus Bankuti, Local Journalism Initiative Reporter 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 .

Commemorating 1990 in solidarity
Commemorating 1990 in solidarity

Hamilton Spectator

time18-07-2025

  • Politics
  • Hamilton Spectator

Commemorating 1990 in solidarity

During the Siege of Kanehsatake in 1990, Ellen Katsi'tsakwas Gabriel would speak at night with the men on the front lines after wrapping up the day's negotiations. One of the men, Richard Two-Axe - 'Boltpin' - had a saying. You can break one arrow very easily, but if you take a bunch of arrows, you cannot break them. 'That's what solidarity is,' said Gabriel, speaking to more than 200 people assembled at Place du Canada in Tiohtià:ke on July 11 to mark the 35th anniversary of the Siege. The commemoration was not merely a remembrance, but a call to action that highlighted the pivotal importance of solidarity. 'I really think that if we understand one another and have a relationship with one another, maybe we'll stop killing one another, and we can bring children up in a world that is safe for them,' said Gabriel. As such, the rally featured speeches not only from Kanehsata'kehró:non and Kahnawa'kehró:non, but also the Palestinian Youth Movement and other speakers who are not Indigenous to Turtle Island. The speakers, gathering at Place du Canada, also made clear that the fight against the government for the recognition of Kanien'kehá:ka rights and territory is not over. 'As oppressed people, we are stronger than our colonizer because we resist constantly, and it may not be shown evident on a daily basis, but it's in our hearts and our minds. It's that courage and strength and the resilience to be able to say 'throw what you want at me, my ancestors are walking with me. You cannot defeat my ancestors,'' said Gabriel. Despite the government's efforts to assimilate Onkwehón:we, Indigenous people are not ashamed of who they are, Gabriel said. 'We hold our heads high because we won, in a sense, simply because there was solidarity with all of you, with all of the people that you heard today,' she said. The rally also sought to highlight 16 calls to action directed at the governments of Canada and Quebec and to Canadian institutions and the public at large. Wanda Gabriel, one of the organizers of the rally along with Ellen, summarized a few of them to the crowd - for Canada to negotiate in good faith to return stolen homelands, to eliminate policies that violate and exclude rights to self-determination, and for institutions and the public to seek better education on the root causes and history behind the 1990 Kanehsatake and Kahnawake Siege. 'We are awake, but there has been a cost to the awakening. While the world remembers the barricades, we remember what it cost our community: mistrust, divisions, and wounds that have not healed. When the land is insecure, the people are insecure,' said Wanda. 'When governments profit from our exploitation, safety is impossible. The Kanehsatake Resistance was not just a standoff; it was a reckoning.' She went on to describe how Canada has not honoured the findings of commission reports since then that have identified root causes, already known to the Kanien'kehá:ka who had been fighting for their land and sovereignty, before directly addressing the young minds in the crowd. 'I want to say to our young people, you are not here just to listen,' said Wanda. 'You are here to pick up the work. You are the next barricade, but this time it won't be built with logs and tires, but with knowledge, unity, and courage.' Kahnawa'kehró:non Allison Deer attended the rally with guests of hers from Six Nations of the Grand River who were in town for the powwow. 'I thought the venue location (Canada Place) was appropriate as the challenge is still with the federal government. It was important to let the general population know that the disputed lands are still not in the possession of the people in Kanehsatake, and that more work needs to be done,' she said. 'My key takeaway is that our true strength lies in cultivating a thoughtful and open-minded approach by using a good mind - this is our way. Our resilience is rooted in peace, diplomacy, and unity.' Joe Deom, spokesperson for the Mohawk Nation at Kahnawake, spoke at the event to recall his experience of 1990. 'We had to deal with the Army and also the politicians from Quebec who were determined to annihilate us in Kahnawake and also in Kanehsatake,' said Deom. 'Throughout that whole summer, I tell people that I never had so much fun in my life. There were times when things got really serious, but we prevailed through all that.' However, he said, while the encroachment of the Oka Golf Club was halted, the larger land issues remain unresolved. 'I was asked several times today, what's the purpose of this commemoration?' he said. 'The men in Kahnawake, we have a small group that raise our flags near the bridge to remind the motorists that we're still here and we're still alive and kicking. That's what this is all about because a lot of you people today were not even born in 1990, or maybe you were very young, so you don't know the whole story behind what happened in 1990.' Others also spoke to share their stories. One was Kahentinetha Horn, who recalled how a member of the Canadian military stabbed her 14-year-old daughter, Waneek Horn-Miller, in the chest. She called for an investigation to finally take place. 'They sent in the Canadian Army to deal with us, and they keep saying and telling the world and everybody that we're citizens of Canada, and yet they sent their soldiers against us,' said Horn, reminding the crowd that this land belongs to its Indigenous peoples. 'We never gave it up,' she said. Another who spoke was Wendy Mayo, the wife of the late Richard Two-Axe, who died in 2003. Two-Axe, who grew up in New York, had been one of the Kanien'kehá:ka held captive in the Onen'to:kon Treatment Centre and transported to custody in Farnham. His thick New York accent made him a particular target, Mayo said, because the authorities were demanding on that basis that he confess a connection to the American Indian Movement (AIM). Mayo visited him with their three-year-old daughter every day until his release a month later. 'We were treated like we were killers, criminals,' she said. 'They escorted us to the bathroom almost with a gun on our back each time that we went there.' The summer had been a painful episode for the family, with the couple apart and scarcely able to communicate outside of the news media. Mayo's 15-year-old son, meanwhile, became a man overnight, she said. She recalled the incident on Tekakwitha Island, when the military landed. 'When the island happened, it happened so quick that my son came running. He said 'they're going to tear gas you.' I was holding (my daughter) in my arms, and when the first thing went off, all of a sudden we're at the water, and my daughter wasn't in my arms any longer,' she said. 'I swear to god, I thought I dropped her, and all the while it was my son that grabbed her and went running and put her under his hood because the tear gas was all over, and not to mention it was right beside a hospital.' It was in the final moments of the rally that Ellen recalled Two-Axe's saying, not long before inviting those assembled to take part in a round dance to the sound of the drum, which she described as the heartbeat of the people, performed by Spirit Wolf. 'That's what solidarity is,' said Ellen about the bunch of arrows. 'That's what that solidarity is about, and together we cannot be broken.' marcus@ Marcus Bankuti, Local Journalism Initiative Reporter 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 .

Thirty-five years later, the fight continues
Thirty-five years later, the fight continues

Hamilton Spectator

time11-07-2025

  • Politics
  • Hamilton Spectator

Thirty-five years later, the fight continues

In spring 1990, Wanda Gabriel, then a young mother on the verge of turning 30, began building a home in Kanesatake, having moved back that January to reconnect herself and her children with their roots. Months later, she would find the house's scaffolding crawling with soldiers, resting from reconnaissance in the forest, looking for Mohawk Warriors. 'I think the soldiers thought the woods were full of Warriors,' said Gabriel. It was not unlike the first time she left the community for groceries after the start of the Siege of Kanehsatake, what is known in perfunctory textbook entries and mainstream media as the Oka Crisis. 'The police had put up barricades all around us. I was going to get food. The first barricade, there were four SQ (Surete du Quebec) officers with guns pointing at me and my four kids: 'Get out of the car. Where are the Warriors? We're looking for Warriors.' They stripped the car,' she said. 'I didn't take my kids out many times after that.' That was just a day or two after the morning of July 11, when the SQ raided and fired on Kanien'kehá:ka land defenders who were enforcing a barricade on a dirt road in the Pines to prevent the expansion of the nine-hole Oka Golf Club into sacred Mohawk territory, including the Pine Hill Cemetery. Events rapidly escalated through the early morning. SQ corporal Marcel Lemay was killed in the confrontation. Soon, members of sister community Kahnawake had blocked the Mercier Bridge connecting Montreal and the South Shore. Kanesatake dug in, the government's actions on July 11 plunging the community into a 78-day standoff against the city of Oka, the province of Quebec, the country of Canada, and all their combined muscle. 'It's something that should never have happened. That's all I can say,' said Ellen Katsi'tsakwas Gabriel, Wanda's cousin, who served as spokesperson during the Siege and was present on that morning. 'The police were cowards. They showed that. They ran away. They tried to kill us. It (tear gas) turned back on them, which to me should be a sign that maybe you're not doing something right. I think it was a difficult day for a lot of people.' The episode is a testament to the arrogance of colonial forces, accustomed for centuries to wantonly stealing and occupying Kanesatake Mohawk Territory - land thefts that still remain unresolved to this day. The Siege of Kanehsatake remains fresh in the minds of many Kanehsata'kehró:non, the trauma it wrought creeping into all manner of divisions and conflicts. In past months and years, just a fraction of unsolved, even uninvestigated arsons, have been documented in The Eastern Door; gunfire is not uncommon; environmental destruction on a shocking scale has been left to fester at G&R Recycling, ostensibly because of political friction, and even then the government is slothful to intervene when the Lake of Two Mountains becomes a dumping ground. For many, it sends the message that Kanesatake is on its own, leaving the community ripe for those who seek to prey on division. Scores of Kanehsata'kehró:non will privately confide they don't feel safe in their own community because of these forces and the members who are complicit. As the community gathers today to commemorate that chapter's 35th anniversary, many worry that the Pines so many sacrificed so much to protect are under threat not just by outside forces, but from within, with a never-ending expansion of cannabis stores razing sacred pine trees in a community starved for land – entrepreneurs getting ever bolder in their transformation of Kanesatake into a playground for outsiders who have no respect for its history, culture, or territory. But it's Canada's enduring grip on stolen Kanesatake lands that furnish this reality. 'This is the divide-and-conquer strategy that all settler colonialists do,' said Ellen. 'They failed to deal with the land dispute because they have lawyers working for the band council that screw it up. The government does not want us to succeed. The government wants us to implode. There's no difference from the colonizers of 500 years ago to the colonizers of today. They're just more slick at erasing our people, erasing our history.' This settler colonial mentality, Ellen said, attempts to relegate events like 1990 to a footnote, barely worth learning about. 'For me, the government just continues its genocidal acts that make them the victim as well, and that we're still the violent ones, instead of the other way around, that they're actually the ones who are the violent ones,' she said. Ellen and Wanda are among the organizers of an anniversary event in Montreal's Place du Canada at 5 p.m. today (Friday), to highlight the larger impacts of the events of 1990, the allies who raised their voice at the time, and to present a list of calls to action, to let everyone know the struggle is not over. 'I think solidarity, demonstrations, pressure government to do the right thing. Those are really important parts of the struggle that Indigenous people face, because the government doesn't listen to us, but they will listen to their constituents,' Ellen said. In Kanesatake, Kawisaiénhne Albany is among the organizers of a march starting at the lacrosse box at 10 a.m. today and finishing there two hours later. 'It's just a remembrance of what took place, what fight we had, and to never forget what happened. To make sure it doesn't happen again, hopefully,' she said. 'For me, personally, it's the same thing, a fight that never stops,' she said. 'It's just a generational thing in my family, where we just stand up because the land is important. That's our duty as women is to protect the land.' Albany counts herself among the Ionkwatehontsénhne women's group that protects a plot of land in the Pines, designated as the Onen'tó:kon Preservation Spot. She has repeatedly spoken out as cannabis store owners have encroached upon it, most recently Big Chiefs - one of the sponsors of a festive July 11 event, geared toward the community's children, also at the lacrosse box. 'One of our things is we're going to emphasize how in '90, they fought really hard, and the whole purpose of the fighting was to keep our land. Now we have people who have these huge stores who, it seems, they never have enough. They want to keep taking.' Albany, just 27 years old, was raised to honour the legacy of 1990. It was something learned at home and in the community, not in Ratihén:te High School, which she attended starting from grade eight. 'It's telling because when you bring up things that have happened in this community going pretty far back, people don't know anything anymore,' she said. A lack of education in the community about the events of 1990 is a concern that was expressed to The Eastern Door by multiple people who lived through the Siege of Kanehsatake. * * * On the morning of July 11, 1990, Marie David got the call that something was happening at the barricade. When she arrived, expecting to see people running around, she found Kanehsata'kehró:non making peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast. 'They were upset that they were met with such violence,' remembers David. 'But they were still committed. 'I don't know what's happening, but we're going to stay. Let them come. They'll take the barricade down and we'll just put it back up again.' 'Of course, that never happened. They came in with the bullets. The dividing line was on the police side - it was chaos, it was tense, it was aggressive. On our side, it was much calmer. Worried about what their intentions were, but not wanting to put them in a position where they had to act. But it still happened.' She remembers coming down Center Road (Ahsennenson) to the Pines, unable to access the main road. 'I had never seen so many community members out. They were there because of what happened, the initial – I don't know if it was tear gas that early in the morning – but there were a lot of community members on this side,' she said. 'Walking through the Pines to the front where we had the barricade, I couldn't see anybody. I was scared to walk through the Pines by myself. I didn't know if there were police snipers out there. 'But once I got to the area where the lacrosse field is, it was like, okay, I felt safer now.' When asked what she remembers about 1990, her first answer was to recall what she called the nicest thing – the way the community came together. In fact, she expressed serenity about some aspects of that summer. She could walk three KM right down the middle of the road to the Pines and feel safe. 'Everybody that stayed in the community during that time remembers it as being a peaceful time, when we were a real community,' she said. 'I miss that. And I wish that the younger generation could experience that. I hear people say it's too dangerous to live here. They can't drive around with their kids because people are speeding down the road.' So much has changed, not just in the last 35 years, but even in the last several. 'Back then, I had so much hope for the community. Now I look around and I see how the Pines have been decimated by these pot shops. So much of the land has been polluted by these pot shops, these business owners who have no regard for the land,' she said, lamenting the lost beauty, life, and medicine in the Pines. For Wanda, 1990 was a transformative experience. She had been the head cook at the Onen'tó:kon Healing Lodge when she was thrust into the position of being one of the liaisons, negotiating for, among other things, the flow of food - she would let the government know that even as the military reported that food delivery was going well, soldiers were in the habit of poking and busting the supplies. On the morning of July 11, she was going to work at the treatment centre. She received a call not to go to work - something was happening in the Pines. By the time she got there, the climax of the confrontation had passed. She was told they had to block the roads. 'Your road up there is open, maybe you should go block it,' someone said. She went home and got her oldest daughter, Melissa, 13 years old at the time, and they blocked the road with their family car. 'If I look back, I was in shock for a couple days. It was hard to make sense of it all.' When the Siege of Kanehsatake was over, Wanda, who had dropped out of high school, decided to pursue counselling and social work, ultimately achieving a master's degree by the time she was 41. 'Having lived that experience, I really wanted to understand how it could happen, why it happened,' she said. She learned from the Onkwehón:we who flocked to Kanesatake, many from other Indigenous communities. The concepts of healing they brought with them had a profound impact on her. She became a student of Indigenous healing, in addition to learning the Western concepts. 'I was walking in two worlds, that's what I felt like,' she said. 'I always feel like a spiritual and emotional bomb went off for us, like a nuclear bomb. That's how I see it. And you know how when a nuclear bomb goes off in a certain area, what it does to the area, how it affects the area. 'I feel that's what happened in Kanesatake. The spirit got so hurt, like collectively. That's what trauma does. If you don't heal the trauma, the pain of that continues to feed. Many people have not had a chance to share their story from that time. Everybody has a piece of the story. A scary story. People were in terror, and they haven't had a chance to share it or say it.' The day Wanda discovered that the Canadian Armed Forces had chosen for their respite the scaffolding of her future home – the one in which she still lives, which still overlooks a swath of green – she was on her way back from the food bank at the Ratihén:te gym. Her fantasy, when the standoff ended, was that Kanehsata'kehró:non would pack themselves into that same high school gymnasium, lock the door, and talk everything out. 'That hasn't happened,' she said. 'That hasn't happened yet.' In the summer of '90, when she saw the soldiers lounging on the steel skeleton that encased her home, those reflections were still ahead of her. Incensed, she turned around and went straight to her mother's house, where she was living. She told her mom and husband about it, asking if those soldiers had permission to be there. They didn't, of course. Wanda didn't want to hear that there was nothing to be done about it. She was too angry. Thirty-five years later, sitting above the lush green landscape behind her backyard, she remembers what she told them when she went back. 'Get the fuck out of here.' marcus@ Marcus Bankuti, Local Journalism Initiative Reporter 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 .

The Kanien'kehá:ka say a vast swath of Montreal's South Shore is theirs. They want their claim settled
The Kanien'kehá:ka say a vast swath of Montreal's South Shore is theirs. They want their claim settled

Yahoo

time02-07-2025

  • Politics
  • Yahoo

The Kanien'kehá:ka say a vast swath of Montreal's South Shore is theirs. They want their claim settled

As development creeps closer to Kahnawà:ke's borders, Grand Chief Cody Diabo says the community near Montreal is fed up — watching homes and businesses get built on land they say has belonged to them for centuries, while a 345-year-old land grievance remains stalled in federal bureaucracy. The Mohawk Council of Kahnawà:ke (MCK) launched an information campaign and a new website in the hopes of breathing new life into the land claim, known as the Seigneury of Sault St. Louis (SSSL) Land Grievance. The area in question, about 97 square kilometres, extends beyond Kahnawà:ke's current borders and contains several municipalities across the Montérégie region on the South Shore. "We have to right the wrongs from the past," said Diabo, adding that he's not settling for less than what's owed. "Not only is there the past use that we've been prohibited from benefiting from, but future as well. Because as long as the lands are still not returned to Kahnawà:ke and they're being developed for different uses to other people's benefits, it's a concern." The federal government accepted the grievance in 2003. But Diabo said talks have been slow moving in the decades since, revolving around negotiation protocols — or "negotiating how to negotiate," as he puts it. Michael Coyle, a professor specializing in Indigenous rights and dispute resolution at Western University, said that when Canada accepts a claim, that means its lawyers have decided Canada continues to have an outstanding legal obligation toward the First Nation. "It doesn't commit [Canada] to reaching a particular agreement or to include land in an agreement, but it does commit them to negotiate a claim that they have found to be a valid claim," he said. Meanwhile, Diabo said he wants the government to issue a directive pausing development efforts on SSSL or at least include the band in those discussions. The SSSL includes Sainte-Catherine, Delson, St-Constant, parts of Châteauguay and parts of other municipalities. In 1680, French King Louis the XIV granted parcels of land, a seigneury, to the Jesuits to set up a mission and for the use and occupation of the Iroquois, or Kanien'kehá:ka of Kahnawà:ke. The Kanienʼkehá꞉ka of Kahnawà:ke are part of the larger Iroquois Confederacy. Historical documents show the grant stipulated that settlers would not be allowed on the land. The Jesuits began granting part of the land to French settlers nonetheless. In 1762, a British general, Thomas Gage, ruled in favour of a complaint lodged by the Kanien'kehá:ka, reversing the concessions. However, the matter was never completely settled and the Kanien'kehá:ka continued to be dispossessed of their lands through the years so that today, Kahnawà:ke's territory accounts for just over 50 square kilometres. Diabo said the band wants to have a serious conversation with the federal and provincial governments to formulate a transition plan. As for the people living in the affected municipalities, Diabo said a successful settlement to the claim doesn't necessarily mean further displacement. "We're not monsters at the end of the day, even though historically that's what happened to us. People moved in and then removed us from our areas," said Diabo. "We're not like that." A spokesperson for the federal government's Crown-Indigenous Relations and Northern Affairs Canada (CIRNAC) said the government has been working with the Mohawk Council of Kahnawà:ke in the spirit of co-operation and partnership to resolve the outstanding SSSL through confidential negotiations. "We remain committed to a negotiated outcome that advances the priorities of the Mohawk Council of Kahnawà:ke," said Eric Head. In a statement, the Quebec government said the negotiations are exclusively between the MCK and the federal government and that it is not participating. WATCH | What's the Seigneury of Sault St. Louis Land Grievance?: In Quebec, there are currently 22 specific claims in progress between various bands and the Canadian government. According to CIRNAC, among the 115 claims concluded in the province, almost 60 per cent were settled through negotiation, while just under 40 per cent resulted in the finding of no lawful obligation on the part of the Crown. The remaining two were settled through an administrative remedy. The government frequently chooses to settle grievances by offering land that they make available as a substitute to the disputed land if, for example, there are people living there, Coyle said. In other cases they offer money which the band can use to buy private land. A third possibility, which he said he hasn't seen yet, is the expropriation of private land to settle a dispute. "We use expropriation in a lot of different contexts in Canada. It's being used in Toronto, for example, right now to build new subway lines," said Coyle. Solutions demand creativity, he said. Diabo is hopeful they'll get there. He also hopes Kahnawà:ke's neighbours will get educated on the dispute and better understand his community's perspective. "Rather than kick it down the road and … exacerbate the situation, let's settle it right now," he said. "We're here now."

New admin at two Kahnawake schools
New admin at two Kahnawake schools

Hamilton Spectator

time06-06-2025

  • General
  • Hamilton Spectator

New admin at two Kahnawake schools

Kahnawake Survival School (KSS) will have a new leader next year, with Sha'teiohserí:io Patton set to become the school's new principal, while Melissa Lasante will serve as the new associate principal at Kateri School. 'We're just very proud of both Melissa and Sha'teiohserí:io,' said Kahnawake Education Center (KEC) director Falen Iakowennaiéwas Jacobs. 'They both have the leadership skills and the qualities that can really bring the roles they're taking on forward, and we're really excited to have them in the roles.' Patton was associate principal at KSS for most of the academic year that is now coming to a close, having started in that role in October at the impressive age of 25. Having learned from that experience, the Stanford University graduate is now ready for her next challenge. 'Honestly, the right word is gracious. I'm also very humbled by being selected. I'm really eager to be able to step into the new role and support the student body, the teachers, and the greater community of KSS. I'm very excited,' said Patton. That overarching view of the school's place in Kahnawake will be fundamental to her approach, she suggested. 'I think a successful student is as strong as the community surrounding them,' said Patton, who views collaboration as a critical component of local education. Getting to know KSS as a kind of family is one big observation from her tenure so far, she said, and one she will focus on preserving going forward. 'We have so much love for each other. That was my biggest takeaway. It is a community school. It's filled with so many passionate people and minds and feelings that really extend a lot farther than academics,' she said. She emphasized the importance of her own family's support, citing her loving parents, in helping her get to where she is today. Perhaps this is one reason she wants to give parents every opportunity to participate in school life. 'I think what I'd like parents to know is they have as much of a voice in school policy and culture as the students, as the teachers, as the staff. I would love to have greater parent collaboration in the coming years,' she said, adding that the outreach is likely to include updates to the school's communications strategies. From the beginning of her tenure at the school, Patton has also seen how important student wellness and safety are to academic success, so it will be a priority to ensure this is reflected in the school's policies and protocols. 'We're also looking at strengthening the identity of culture as well as tradition in the school, so getting more perspective from the student body about what that means, what Kanien'kehá:ka identity is all about, what are the school values,' said Patton. This approach is one reason Patton was selected for the role, according to Jacobs, as her outlook aligns with the KEC's emphasis on strengthening Kanien'kehá:ka culture, which will continue to be one of the core priorities in the years ahead. 'I've always been impressed with Sha'teiohserí:io's drive and her community vision, and that includes incorporating our ways and our culture, tsi niionkwarihò:ten, into everything that she does,' said Jacobs. A new associate principal at KSS will be needed, for which a callout will be coming soon. The school's current principal, Sarah Phillips, has decided to return to the classroom as a teacher for the time being, according to Jacobs. Lasante, meanwhile, will be moving from the position of resource teacher at Kateri School to become that facility's associate principal. 'We're really excited to welcome Melissa on board in her position,' said Jacobs, noting Lasante's extensive experience in education in Kahnawake, which goes back more than two decades, including at Step By Step Child and Family Center. 'She has a lot of the background and the leadership skills and qualities needed to fulfill the role of associate principal,' said Jacobs. One of her assets is the way she's proven adept at creating ties with community members, Jacobs said. 'That's what our whole system is based on is parental voice, parental guidance, parental connection, and it's so imperative to foster those bonds and establish good relationships with parents from the get-go, from when they enter into the KEC system, to know their perspective and their opinions are so valuable. They're their children's first teachers, so we can only work together to meet the needs of our students,' she said. marcus@ Marcus Bankuti, Local Journalism Initiative Reporter 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 .

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