5. Clashes within the system 1977-1981

I struggled in my early work, with the reserves and the expectations of MSB. I specifically recall one year, when I was told that the priority for the year with MSB was ‘mental health’. This directive had come from Ottawa. How did Ottawa know what the priority was for my two communities? And I had the thinking of mental health from my nurses training. In my first four years of practice, I did not have one client with mental health issues – no evidence of bi-polar (manic depression it was called in those days), schizophrenia, psychosis, or any other illness cited in the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, the original version was published in the 50s).

The only case of mental illness that I was aware of, was at Kawacatoose First Nation. I went with the other nurse who covered Fishing Lake and Kawacatoose (used to be called Poormans for many years), and she intended to give an injection to a fellow at Kawacatoose. She said that she often had difficulty, as the fellow would run into the bush to avoid her. I think she was giving him Moditen or Modicate, which was a psychiatric medication. We used to give it in the psychiatric wards in hospitals, and the saying was, ‘we would give this medication until their tongues hung out’. No wonder the guy avoided this!

I used to meet with the Chief and Council of my two communities, and ask them what their priorities were for the year. I don’t recall specifically what they asked me to do, but it sure had nothing to do with mental health!

In later years when I worked for the Tribal Council, I invited a group of people from the 16 First Nation communities that we covered, and I asked them to outline what they thought their health care system should look like. We had flip chart paper, and people wrote down their ideas. Indigenous people think in a wholistic way, so they talked about adding education, employment, access to food, eliminating poverty, etc. They wanted an integrated system that helped them to be healthy!

One of the struggles within government was called ‘stove-pipes’. So, Health, Social Services, Economic Development, Education, etc were all in their individual stovepipe, ‘never the twain to meet’! It was difficult to do the work needed, when we all reported through separate systems and each system had their own priority for the year. Even Health was under MSB, Health Canada, and all the other programs were under Indian Affairs.

I tried to work closely with Indian Affairs staff, as they were responsible for Yellowquill (I think that Kinistin had taken over some programs and had less oversight). I recall one year, they hired a Social Worker, I think her name was Muriel Wideman, and her priority which she told me outright, was to take away every child at Yellowquill. I didn’t agree with her and kept my distance. She didn’t last long, I would say less than a year. Thank goodness!

In all my years or working, I never saw one case of child abuse. I never saw a child with bruises or broken bones. However, I did see neglect. Babies were well cared for and clean. But, once children were toddlers or could walk and talk, they were allowed a lot of freedom. Many of the babies in Yellowquill, and some at Kinistin would be in moss bags. Part of my visit included a physical check of the infant, so I would have to take them out of their moss bag, and examine them from head to toe, as well as check their hips particularly. First Nations had few congenital issues, with one exception. Congenital hip was seen, with people walking like one leg was shorter than the other, limping. I still see this today at times.

One rationale we were given at the time, was that if there was not enough padding in between the legs of babies in the moss bag, that their hips would be flexed all the time, and this could lead to improper development of the ball/socket joint at the hip.

So, that was how I knew that babies were well cared for. They were clean and often the moss bags were beautiful with beads or other decorations and a matching hat for babies with a large covering that could be put over the baby’s face when venturing outside.

But, toddlers would not be clean, with runny noses and sometimes impetigo or rashes. I recall seeing one baby, I’m not sure how old now, but he was really big! And he was in a moss bag, with a piece of wood or something in the back. So, he was in the moss bag, leaned up against the wall. His big brown eyes followed me around the room!

There are teachings behind the moss bag that I have heard; there are likely many more that I have not been told. It teaches discipline to the children, that they use their eyes to observe their environment. If babies are unbound, they reach for everything and mostly put everything in their mouth. So, these babies did not have that experience, as their hands were bound down within the moss bag. The bag was very tight, and mimicked the same closeness they had when they were in the womb, inside their mother. It was to give the baby comfort, with less of a transition from a tight space and out into the world.

There were always language issues, as I didn’t speak the language. I still kick myself today that I didn’t even try to learn some words in Saulteaux! In most Indigenous languages, there is no male/female difference like there is in English and French. So, the traditional people and language speakers would use the English pronouns interchangeably – he, she, it. So, when I was doing a baby visit, I would ask, ‘is it a she or he?’, and they would answer. Then, when I undressed the baby, I found out it was the opposite! So, I learned to ask, ‘is it a boy or girl’. No pronouns needed!

I used to visit the school at Yellowquill as part of my job. All the kids were bused to Rose Valley or Kelvington from the reserve. There was an old structure, and people said that they did have a school on the reserve at one time, but that it had been closed for years. So, all they had on the reserve was a Nursery/Kindergarten. I enjoyed going to that little school and talking to the teacher and teacher aide. One winter, they told me of an incident that was bothering them. They said that the kids were complaining, asking why they were being punished and not let outside at recess. Some of the kids did not have hats, mitts or scarves, or maybe even proper jackets? So, the teachers made them stay in at recess. They were asking me if they should change this?

I love this example! How did mitts, hats, etc become the ‘standard’ or ‘norm’ for winter gear? This is a small example of the intrusion of colonial practice. Somehow, mainstream people get all geared up for winter, with winter coats, winter boots, mitts, hats, scarves, etc. Are these all necessary items? Recess at the school was 15 minutes, so it was not like they were spending hours outside and would freeze or get frostbite. If the kids came to school without all this gear, they likely didn’t have it at home anyway. One of the sites that I used to love at Yellowquill, when I was driving around doing my visits, was the site of children playing outside, even in the winter! They likely played outside at home without these deemed essentials, and went inside to warm up when they were cold!

I’m not saying that child safety is not important. But, I worry about the various ‘rules’, both written and unwritten, that create differences amongst people.

I’ve always been a rule-breaker, one to question the ‘sacred cow’! Why do we do that? If the response is, because we’ve always done it that way, it’s a rule that needs to be reviewed and maybe needs some change! I’ve been a fighter for the under-dog; I come from a long line of fighters, from both my Métis side and my German side.

So, this led to my struggle. I wanted to follow the plans that the community had, the priorities that they would give to me. And then, I would be in trouble with my boss, the Zone Nursing Officer for not completing some requirements sent down from Ottawa. I swear, the people in Ottawa had never been to a reserve or even met a First Nations person!

Our cars were always an issue, and the roads to the reserves were terrible. Our cars were pretty good, big 4-door cars with big motors. But the Zone Office had AMC vehicles, which would shake to bits on gravel roads. We had a Zone Director that was a former RCMP, and when some people from Ottawa came to visit; he took them to a reserve in his government vehicle where they promptly got stuck on a muddy road. The following year, we all got Dodge Ramchargers – just the 2-wheel drive, not the 4-wheel drive because those were designated for the north. I hit the ditch more times in that Ramcharger than I ever did with the big car. But, at least the Ramchargers had a radio!

I stayed in the 2-nurse office in Wadena for 4 years. During that time, I worked with 4 different nurses, Karen, Sheila, Audrey, and Diane Wilson (sorry, can’t remember the last names of the first three). I was also alone for nearly one year, and I would cover the basics for all four reserves – Yellowquill, Kinistin, Fishing Lake and Kawacatoose (Poorman). There was considerable turn-over in nursing staff, in this office at least.

The head office out of Regina would issue a report every year for First Nations in Saskatchewan. It outlined various issues, and I would review it when it came out. First Nations experienced high rates of death. When I started, the lifespan of a First Nations man was 49 years old. Accidental deaths in children were common, then suicide in teens and young adults. Violence and chronic illness was prevalent in adults. First Nations populations were young (and continue to be young), with 50% under the age of 25. A pretty bleak picture and I thought that I could change it. Well, I couldn’t.