Do you ever watch a film or listen to a particular song that push your buttons to make you think about events that happened in the past? Every day it has been observed that becoming older and wiser is a gift and a curse. Many years ago, I heard the phrase repeated in episodes of the television hit, Monk, starring Tony Shalhoub in which he portrayed the character, Adrian Monk, a homicide detective with the San Francisco Police Department (2002-2009). I never understood the full meaning until now.
A few nights ago, I watched a great film entitled, Sugarcane. The Sugarcane Reserve is located near Williams Lake in British Columbia, Canada. The 2024 documentary follows the Williams Lake First Nation (WLFN) community as they conduct an investigation into the Canadian Indian residential school system, igniting a reckoning in the lives of survivors and descendants. It takes a closer look at the physical and sexual abuse of young children and the many deaths and unmarked graves. This incredible documentary triggered my emotions as the story unfolded how newborns were tossed into an incinerator and burnt alive by catholic priests and nuns without guilt or remorse. The purpose was to hide their secrets.
Growing up in America, I was aware of the atrocities done to Native American tribes to confiscate their land. European colonisation resulted in the theft of millions of acres of Native American land. Explorers and settlers stole resources from them. Millions of Native Americans died from diseases, warfare, eating poisoned food, and enslavement. It's estimated that 80-95% of the Native American population died during the first 100 to 150 years of European contact. To make things more difficult, their culture has been systematically removed from mainstream media and popular culture.
While living in the San Francisco Bay Area, a wonderful colleague brought me on board to do consulting work with the Scotts Valley Tribal TANF that focused on working with Pomo Indians members. A trip was planned, and I was so excited until I arrived on the reservation. It was nothing what I expected after watching many westerns on television as a young boy. I was in a state of shock by the poverty they were experiencing, lack of adequate housing, food, healthcare, and schools on their land. By the age of 14-15, many of the boys would commit suicide. Alcohol and drugs were a major problem that was brought in by outsiders. I remember one family invited me to join them for dinner. I declined because there were 8 or 9 hungry children in the family and not enough food for them. I was told not to be rude by rejecting the invitation, so I shared their food and mostly fed mine to the children. Holding back my tears I could feel their pain. It always surprises me when a group of people are treated worse than African Americans. It was great chatting with them and their leaders about life. Many life lessons were taught to me about being grateful and kind.
As a boy, I remember my mother talking with her brothers and sisters about their relationship to tribes when she lived in Jeanerette, New Iberia, and New Orleans. I pretended to not be interested or curious, but she was able to read the curiosity in my eyes and immediately made me go outside to play with my cousins. The topic was never brought up again in my presence. Often, my mother and her siblings, and friends would start speaking in French or French Creole to each other so the kids would not understand. I remember struggling to listen and understand what was happening. Whenever she would say 'ti mechan gason', I knew I was in trouble. It meant 'little bad boy'. One morning, feeling very proud, I said, 'Bonjou manman', (hello mom) and I never said it again after the spanking I received. I always asked many questions like I still do as an adult but never got any answers. Amazing the things you remember as you age and become wiser.
I often asked who my father was but never received an answer. Once mom told me that my dad died in a fishing accident with my uncle and other friends. I had many other questions, but I was totally ignored. I asked why did she leave her family in Louisiana to move to Texas? Once again, I received the look of slanted eyes that caused me to immediately stop the interrogation and go back to playing with my toys. Then I decided to question each of her brothers and sisters in hope of getting more information, but it was a dead-in. No one ever answered a question and just pushed me away. They all took whatever information, knowledge, or secrets to their graves. The one good thing they taught me was how to connect with spirits when guidance was needed. They also groomed me in how to walk into a room and recognise evil and how to observe bullshit flowing from the mouths of fake people and friends. To this day, I still don't know how I can remember any of it.
As my mother aged and I took care of her, I asked all the same questions that I did when I was 6 or 7-years-old. This time instead of spanking me, she laughed, told me jokes and made me giggle a lot. I also asked why they didn't teach us children how to speak French? She said, "All that matters is I love you, now, go and get me something sweet to eat." She was humorous until the end and that makes me smile every day. Parents and families often withhold information in order to protect their children. In the documentary, one of characters searched for his mother to find out the truth. Like my mother, she never revealed the nightmare.
For many years I struggled to know who I am and where I came from? I realise now that's it's not important, but essential to create who I want to be and follow my dreams. The one thing I was taught was being able to show kindness and respect to others, until they no longer deserve it. The most emotional part for me is wondering how my mother, her family, my grandparents, and ancestors were able to survive worse times than we are seeing in the world today. I ask myself, where did the resilience come from to give me the strength to put on my boxing gloves and survive difficult times.
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