Latest news with #SixtiesScoop
Calgary Herald
15 hours ago
- General
- Calgary Herald
Sacred Siksika ribstones are back in Alberta from Canadian Museum of History
Article content An important ceremonial object was handed over to the Siksika First Nation on Friday in what the Indigenous community calls a 'profound act of justice and reconciliation.' Article content The items returned to the community were Ribstone artifacts, which had been held in the Canadian Museum of History for over 100 years. Article content Article content Ribstones are skeletal objects of the bison, which is venerated in Indigenous cultures as a staff of life, a source of abundance, and as entities creating balance in the natural world. Article content Article content The repatriation of these objects was overseen by the Soyohpawahko Blackfoot Crossing Historical Park, which ensured the safe return of the artifacts to Indigenous land. The event was punctuated by presentations, a traditional ceremony and various cultural performances. Article content Article content 'The return of the Siksika Nation Ribstone marks the restoration of a sacred artifact—etched with ancestral prayers—to its rightful place,' said Shannon Bear Chief, general manager of the historical park. Article content 'This is more than repatriation; it is the reclamation of identity, sovereignty, and spiritual strength.' Article content Objects such as ribstones were usually placed in locations of symbolic importance to the community, and many would visit the sites to offer prayers and conduct ceremonies. Article content Access to these places was severed after Indigenous communities were confined to their reserves in the late 19th century, said Jack Ives, anthropology professor at the University of Alberta, who is a former provincial archaeologist behind the push to repatriate ceremonial objects to Indigenous bodies. Article content Their culture was further assailed by the advent of residential schools and policies such as the Sixties Scoop, which drove Indigenous people away from their traditional practices.
Yahoo
5 days ago
- General
- Yahoo
Daughter of First Nations woman missing 20 years remembers her mother's 'warm hands'
Stephanie Cameron-Johnson was 11 and in foster care when she learned her mother had gone missing on Vancouver Island, after a friend showed her a photo in a newspaper. What followed would be two decades of challenging racial stereotypes surrounding her mom, undoing shame, and repairing identity disconnection caused by the child welfare system, Cameron-Johnson says. "The narrative that's been spoken about missing, murdered Indigenous women and two-spirit folks… I really feel like it's my responsibility to change that," said Cameron-Johnson. Her mother Belinda Cameron, a Sixties Scoop survivor from Peguis First Nation in Manitoba, was 42 when she was last seen at a Shoppers Drug Mart in Esquimalt, B.C., on Esquimalt Rd near Head St., on May 11, 2005. She suffered from a mental illness and was prescribed medication, to be picked up at Shoppers daily, but failed to attend the pharmacy in the days following. She wasn't reported missing until June 4. Det. Colin Hanninen of the Victoria Police Department said Cameron was a person of routine and a fixture in Esquimalt in 2005. She was considered a vulnerable person by police due to addiction and mental health issues, said Hanninen, and her disappearance is considered suspicious. Cameron was initially reported missing by a man who she'd been involved with, but the man told Victoria Police he had not seen her in over a month. Police used a polygraph test to question if the man had harmed Cameron; he denied doing so and passed the test. "At the time there was a robust investigation involving this person, and a polygraph was part of that," said Hanninen. Investigators conducted over 100 interviews and an extensive forensic examination of Cameron's Cairn Road apartment near Old Esquimalt Road, said Hanninen, as well as canine and helicopter searches. "Unfortunately, you know, it had been potentially three to four weeks from the time we can confirm she was last seen to her being reported, which puts you at a disadvantage," said Hanninen. "In 2005, it would have been a lot more challenging than it would be today to find clues of where she could have gone or, you know, if she was with anybody." A 2010 report from the Native Women's Association of Canada said British Columbia had the highest number of cases of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls in the country, according to its database. B.C. also had the highest percentage of suspicious death cases: nine per cent of the cases in its database from B.C. fell under the category of suspicious deaths, compared to four per cent nationally, the report said. Cameron-Johnson said police and media reports her mother used drugs or may be doing sex work don't fit with the way she remembers her mother. "It's a stereotype… that's not all who she was," said Cameron-Johnson. "I remember speaking to some social workers, and they said that she was just always so sweet and kind but that could also kind of get taken advantage of." Cameron-Johnson and her younger sister Zoe were living in foster care at the time of their mother's disappearance. Social workers told the sisters their mother voluntarily put them into care, said Cameron-Johnson, but she remembers being abruptly removed by ministry workers from her Grade 1 classroom in 1999. 'When she went missing, my foster mom told me that it was essentially, like, her fault," Cameron-Johnson said. "They really did make her look like she was in the wrong." She and her sister being put in care was the beginning of her mother's downward spiral, Cameron-Johnson said. "I feel like that really kind of did have that ripple effect on my mom's self worth, and going missing," said Cameron-Johnson. "I don't think she was surrounded with care and love and support. I feel that someone did, like, harm her in a terrible way, and I think that people knew her... know things." Kirsten Barnes, director of clinical legal services at the B.C. First Nations Justice Council, said women like Cameron faced less access to legal recourse and understanding around systemic barriers in the '90s and early 2000s than today, with improvements still needed. "Indigenous women, a lot of them would have felt incredibly alone. They would have felt incredible power imbalance… she probably felt a great deal of pressure," said Barnes. Federal and provincial sanctioned policies such as residential schools and the Sixties Scoop were "created deliberately to destroy the family unit," said Barnes, and have led to the ongoing overrepresentation of Indigenous children in care, known as the Millennial Scoop. As of January 2024, 68 per cent of the 4,835 children and youth in care in B.C. were Indigenous, according to the province. "In this case with Belinda, had she had those [family] connections her whole entire life, things may have been different, right? She may have had all of the support that she would have needed," Barnes said. "No parent wants to ever voluntarily give their children up… and that may not have happened if she had not been taken as a child herself. It wasn't really voluntary if you think about the circumstances that she was probably dealing with at the time." Cameron-Johnson said she and her sister are still looking for answers on what happened to their mother, and can feel their mom guiding them. Belinda Cameron was a mother, a homemaker, a baker, enjoyed beading group nights at the Victoria Friendship Centre, and was a skilled thrifter with incredible style, said Cameron-Johnson. "I just remember her warm hands. She just had a really lovely, warm presence," Cameron-Johnson said. "She was there. She was present. I can't really ask more for that, as a parent, to have in your life." Belinda Cameron is described as a five feet, eight inches tall with a medium to large build, long, dark brown hair at the time of her disappearance, and dark brown eyes. She is also known as Belinda Ann Engen. Anonymous tips can be made online at Victoria Crime Stoppers. People who may have information about Cameron can contact 250-995-7654 and ask to speak to the Historical Case Review Unit or send an email.
CBC
5 days ago
- General
- CBC
Daughter of First Nations woman missing 20 years remembers her mother's 'warm hands'
Stephanie Cameron-Johnson was 11 and in foster care when she learned her mother had gone missing on Vancouver Island, after a friend showed her a photo in a newspaper. What followed would be two decades of challenging racial stereotypes surrounding her mom, undoing shame, and repairing identity disconnection caused by the child welfare system, Cameron-Johnson says. "The narrative that's been spoken about missing, murdered Indigenous women and two-spirit folks… I really feel like it's my responsibility to change that," said Cameron-Johnson. Her mother Belinda Cameron, a Sixties Scoop survivor from Peguis First Nation in Manitoba, was 42 when she was last seen at a Shoppers Drug Mart in Esquimalt, B.C., on Esquimalt Rd near Head St., on May 11, 2005. She suffered from a mental illness and was prescribed medication, to be picked up at Shoppers daily, but failed to attend the pharmacy in the days following. She wasn't reported missing until June 4. Police consider disappearance suspicious Det. Colin Hanninen of the Victoria Police Department said Cameron was a person of routine and a fixture in Esquimalt in 2005. She was considered a vulnerable person by police due to addiction and mental health issues, said Hanninen, and her disappearance is considered suspicious. Cameron was initially reported missing by a man who she'd been involved with, but the man told Victoria Police he had not seen her in over a month. Police used a polygraph test to question if the man had harmed Cameron; he denied doing so and passed the test. "At the time there was a robust investigation involving this person, and a polygraph was part of that," said Hanninen. Investigators conducted over 100 interviews and an extensive forensic examination of Cameron's Cairn Road apartment near Old Esquimalt Road, said Hanninen, as well as canine and helicopter searches. "Unfortunately, you know, it had been potentially three to four weeks from the time we can confirm she was last seen to her being reported, which puts you at a disadvantage," said Hanninen. "In 2005, it would have been a lot more challenging than it would be today to find clues of where she could have gone or, you know, if she was with anybody." A 2010 report from the Native Women's Association of Canada said British Columbia had the highest number of cases of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls in the country, according to its database. B.C. also had the highest percentage of suspicious death cases: nine per cent of the cases in its database from B.C. fell under the category of suspicious deaths, compared to four per cent nationally, the report said. 'Ripple effect' Cameron-Johnson said police and media reports her mother used drugs or may be doing sex work don't fit with the way she remembers her mother. "It's a stereotype… that's not all who she was," said Cameron-Johnson. "I remember speaking to some social workers, and they said that she was just always so sweet and kind but that could also kind of get taken advantage of." Cameron-Johnson and her younger sister Zoe were living in foster care at the time of their mother's disappearance. Social workers told the sisters their mother voluntarily put them into care, said Cameron-Johnson, but she remembers being abruptly removed by ministry workers from her Grade 1 classroom in 1999. 'When she went missing, my foster mom told me that it was essentially, like, her fault," Cameron-Johnson said. "They really did make her look like she was in the wrong." She and her sister being put in care was the beginning of her mother's downward spiral, Cameron-Johnson said. "I feel like that really kind of did have that ripple effect on my mom's self worth, and going missing," said Cameron-Johnson. "I don't think she was surrounded with care and love and support. I feel that someone did, like, harm her in a terrible way, and I think that people knew her... know things." Kirsten Barnes, director of clinical legal services at the B.C. First Nations Justice Council, said women like Cameron faced less access to legal recourse and understanding around systemic barriers in the '90s and early 2000s than today, with improvements still needed. "Indigenous women, a lot of them would have felt incredibly alone. They would have felt incredible power imbalance… she probably felt a great deal of pressure," said Barnes. Federal and provincial sanctioned policies such as residential schools and the Sixties Scoop were "created deliberately to destroy the family unit," said Barnes, and have led to the ongoing overrepresentation of Indigenous children in care, known as the Millennial Scoop. As of January 2024, 68 per cent of the 4,835 children and youth in care in B.C. were Indigenous, according to the province. "In this case with Belinda, had she had those [family] connections her whole entire life, things may have been different, right? She may have had all of the support that she would have needed," Barnes said. "No parent wants to ever voluntarily give their children up… and that may not have happened if she had not been taken as a child herself. It wasn't really voluntary if you think about the circumstances that she was probably dealing with at the time." Cameron-Johnson said she and her sister are still looking for answers on what happened to their mother, and can feel their mom guiding them. Belinda Cameron was a mother, a homemaker, a baker, enjoyed beading group nights at the Victoria Friendship Centre, and was a skilled thrifter with incredible style, said Cameron-Johnson. "I just remember her warm hands. She just had a really lovely, warm presence," Cameron-Johnson said. "She was there. She was present. I can't really ask more for that, as a parent, to have in your life." Belinda Cameron is described as a five feet, eight inches tall with a medium to large build, long, dark brown hair at the time of her disappearance, and dark brown eyes. She is also known as Belinda Ann Engen.
CBC
23-05-2025
- CBC
Sixties Scoop survivor held in U.S. jail after attempted return to adoptive family
Social Sharing James Mast, a Cree Sixties Scoop survivor, says he was making his way to Oklahoma so he could care for his ailing adoptive father when tribal police on the U.S. side of the Akwesasne reservation arrested him and turned him over to U.S. Border Patrol. Mast, 60, has been held at the Clinton County jail in Plattsburgh, N.Y., which sits about 115 km southeast of Akwesasne, since his April 14 arrest by St. Regis Mohawk Tribal Police. He was detained after crossing the St. Lawrence River by boat and had no identification on him at the time. Mast has so far spent six weeks in custody while U.S. immigration authorities determine whether to deport him to Canada. "I want to get back home and I'm tired of this pressure that immigration and people put on saying that I am not American," said Mast, in a telephone interview with CBC News from jail. "I was raised in the States." Mast was initially charged with unlawful "re-entry by a deported alien," but the charge was dropped by the assistant U.S. attorney because Mast is Cree, said Gabrielle DiBella, his appointed federal public defender. "Being a Native American meant that he could not be prosecuted for illegally re-entering the country," said DiBella in an interview with CBC News. Under the 1794 Jay Treaty between the United States and Great Britain, a person with at least 50 per cent First Nations parentage may cross freely from Canada into the U.S. A First Nations person born in Canada can also legally live as a permanent resident with a green card in the U.S. if they register with the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Service. "I've never had a Native American prosecuted for illegal re-entry," said DiBella. DiBella said they've requested Mast's adoption records from the government of Alberta which he was told could take four to six months to process and provide. CBC News contacted U.S. Customs and Border Protection who referred questions to Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) for comment. ICE did not respond to request for comment. Taken from family twice The Sixties Scoop was a period from the 1950s to the 1980s when thousands of Indigenous children were seized by provincial child-welfare agencies and adopted out to non-Indigenous families. Mast was born James Cardinal in 1964 to Mary, who was Cree, and Edward Cardinal, a Métis. They were trappers living around Fort McMurray, Alta. "My father was an alcoholic, so he'd take the pelts in and then leave my mom and us kids out on the trap line," said Mast, who has three biological siblings. Mast said when he was two-years old his mother fell ill and moved in with her sister, who called child welfare services. "Welfare came and picked us up and took us away," he said. He was bounced between foster homes and abused until Moses and Sadie Mast, a Mennonite couple, adopted him and took him to Spencer, Okla., when he was six years old, said James Mast. He said he reconnected with his biological mother when he was 16 after hitchhiking from Oklahoma City to Anzac, Alta. But he went back to Oklahoma, to his adoptive parents, who he considers his real family. "That's the only family I have," said Mast. While building hog farms in the mid-1990s in Missouri, Mast ran into trouble with the law, according to state court records. Mast said he was convicted of assaulting a police officer and served 17 years in prison. After his release and shortly after arriving back home to Oklahoma, U.S. immigration authorities swooped in to arrest him. He said he still remembers seeing his adoptive mother Sadie Mast weeping as they took him away. "I told her, don't worry, I'll be all right, I'll come back again one day," said Mast. "She passed away before I made it. It's just been an ongoing frustration. It made me angry." Mast was sent to immigration detention in Dallas and deported to Calgary in 2010, according to U.S. court records. His adoptive parents never made him a U.S. citizen and Mast said he didn't know how to fight the deportation. He said he stayed for about a day at the Calgary airport before heading to a city homeless shelter, the beginning of an itinerant life in Canada. He was in and out of jails and shelters, while compiling convictions for things like armed robbery, thefts and assaults. Mast said he ended up drifting to Hamilton and then to Cornwall, Ont., about six years ago where he found work as a mechanic. During his time in Cornwall, Mast said he met people from Akwesasne, the Haudenesaunee territory that sits across the St. Lawrence River from the small city. Mast said he crossed the river by boat on April 13, jumped out on the southern shore and hid out in a wooded area overnight. Family waits for him The next day, Mast said he was walking through the community, trying to figure out how to continue his journey to Oklahoma when he was stopped by tribal police who later reported to U.S. Border Patrol that he was intoxicated. "They lied, and that's what always gets me in trouble, that's why I get mad at the police, because they lie," said Mast. "How can they say I was intoxicated? They didn't take no breathalyzer…. As a matter of fact, I don't drink." He said they arrested him after he slammed his hand on the trunk of the police cruiser. "I said, 'There, now you can arrest me,'" said Mast during the telephone interview with CBC News. Mast said he just wants to get home and take care of his adoptive father. It still pains him that he wasn't there when his adoptive mother died. "I figure it's time to get back home and take care of him, like he took care of me when I was younger," he said. "He needs me there." Mast's father is in his late 80s, suffers from dementia and is currently in an assisted living care home, said Bonnie Bellah, James Mast's cousin. Bellah has taken over the primary caregiving role for Moses Mast. She said the family is aware that James Mast is in custody and would welcome his return. "We would all embrace him," said Bellah, in a telephone interview from Spencer, Okla. "We love him and we want the best for him. It's a hard situation, he is adopted, but he is family and family is very important."
Yahoo
21-04-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
Saskatoon drug crisis like 'nothing we've ever seen before' puts lives at risk daily: Prairie Harm Reduction
The alarm bells in Saskatoon haven't stopped ringing, as the city continues to grapple with a drug overdose crisis that's jeopardizing lives every day. On Tuesday, the Saskatoon Fire Department reported that it has responded to 935 overdose incidents or suspected opioid poisonings since the start of this year. The department responded to 376 incidents over the same time period last year — less than half of what's been reported this year. Halfway through April, this year's numbers are already approaching the total of 1,282 calls in all of 2024. The fire department cautions that the number of people getting help might actually be higher, because the numbers do not account for how many patients are involved at each call. Kayla DeMong, the executive director of Prairie Harm Reduction, says the crisis is unprecedented. "This is nothing we've ever seen before. It doesn't seem to be going away. Things have plateaued, which doesn't mean they're getting better." Kayla DeMong, the executive director of Prairie Harm Reduction, says the crisis is unprecedented. (CBC) Prairie Harm Reduction — Saskatoon's only supervised consumption site — tests drugs for composition and toxicity, and the city has been "completely saturated" by a toxic drug supply, said DeMong. Last month, the site temporarily paused its operations to give its staff a chance to recover from the trauma of dealing with the overdose crisis head-on. The centre has reopened, but DeMong says the need for help continues. "We were seeing days where all the staff did was revive people their whole shifts, and days where it was four people at a time, six people at a time," she said. This month, the fire department said it had responded to 119 overdose incidents or suspected opioid poisonings as of Tuesday, more than double the 53 calls in April 2024. During a period of just over two weeks last month, the department responded to one overdose call in the city every hour, on average. According to the Saskatchewan Coroners Service, there were 16 confirmed and 76 suspected drug toxicity deaths in the province in the first three months of this year, including seven in Saskatoon. 'So many people dying': advocate David Fineday, an advocate for homeless people who is originally from Sweetgrass First Nation, leads smudging and drum circles in Saskatoon. He says the people he helps have complex needs. The majority are Indigenous and many are living with trauma, including survivors of residential schools and the Sixties Scoop. "It really upsets me for people to just ignore stuff like that when there's so many people dying," he said. "I know eventually everybody has to go, but not like the way that they're letting them go. Overdoses, freezing — that doesn't have to happen in 2025." David Fineday, a front-line worker advocating for people experiencing homelessness, says more social services and housing are desperately needed to get people off the streets and into recovery. (Chanss Langaden/CBC) Last month, Saskatoon Mayor Cynthia Block pointed to a long-term solution: housing. City council has approved 256 affordable housing units in the past six months, about 70 per cent of which have wraparound supports, she said. Council has also approved a study for a navigational hub, meant to be a one-stop shop to help people experiencing homelessness with services, said Block. On March 12, the Saskatchewan government said it would activate its provincial emergency operations centre, led by the Saskatchewan Public Safety Agency, in response to what it termed the "toxic drug crisis" in Saskatoon. The province has also promised additional first responder staff and naloxone kits, but front-line workers say more social services and housing are desperately needed to get people off the streets and into this week, the provincial government introduced legislation that would see fentanyl, methamphetamine and hypodermic needles categorized as street weapons. Amendments to The Safe Public Spaces Act are expected to be passed in the legislature this spring and come into force during the summer, according to a news release by the province Tuesday. Justice Minister Tim McLeod called it a "pivotal step" to ensuring public places are "free from intimidation [and] violence caused by street weapons and illicit drugs." With drug use spilling into Saskatoon libraries, two branches shut their doors to increase security last month, with a plan to reopen next week with beefed up security. But DeMong says moving people around or policies categorizing drugs as street weapons will not address sustained underlying problems. Both she and Fineday say it is key to invest in housing, health care, mental health care, community centres and education. "Imagine what we could do if we were spending the money on these services that are preventative and can intervene in what we're seeing," said DeMong. "All the money we would have — to put into other things rather than overspending on ineffective policies and discriminatory practices that are further criminalizing people in our province."
