Beating the odds

Abstract

Beyond the shadows of Montreal is a small, rural Mohawk community known as Kanesatake (Oka), which has a population of approximately 1500 Mohawks. Residents of Kanesatake have experienced a number of crises in recent years, with negative consequences for the entire community and especially children and youth. The present article provides an overview of the dynamics of two crises faced by the Kanesatake community, detailing the specific impacts on children and young people before moving on to describe health centre interventions that were designed to support community members in processing the trauma. In 1990, Kanesatake was at the heart of the ‘Oka Crisis’, in which Mohawk residents set up barriers to prevent the expansion of a golf course onto their sacred grounds – the cemetery. The Quebec Provincial Police (Surete du Quebec [SQ]) and the Canadian army were sent in to dismantle the Mohawk barricades. Unfortunately, violence broke out, resulting in the death of a police officer. Many people believe that the ensuing 78-day stand-off was the beginning of many difficulties for the community. These events have had a harmful impact on the community, its members and the surrounding communities. Although the Oka Crisis did protect and preserve our sacred lands, it had some unsettling effects on the community that continue to affect us to this day. On January 12, 2004, our most recent high-profile community crisis involved, yet again, damaging national publicity as a result of political warfare and an ‘invasion’ by over 100 policemen from other Native communities to assist our Native police force. At the time, the community was not told why these extra police were brought in. There were rumours that the police officers were there to raid contraband cigarette vendors. No one knew for sure what was happening and it was a very confusing and tense time. The situation escalated with the burning of the Grand Chief’s home and the takeover of the police station by some community members. After a 24 h stand-off between the Native police force and some community members, the police were escorted out of the community. The community was left without security, which created more instability and affected the community and the surrounding areas. These two crises compounded the historical trauma brought on by colonialism, residential schools and dislocation. This prolonged and extreme trauma, and the resilience of the people who survived it, is rarely acknowledged in Canadian society. Suffering is not unique to First Nations peoples, nor is resilience, but perhaps what sets First Nations apart is the fact that most Canadians do not even acknowledge the depth of the trauma or the strength that was needed to survive. Too often, their views of Native people are formed by flashes on the television screen instead of through respectful relationships – and so it was with our community. We entered into the national consciousness at a time of crisis, and for most Canadians, we became defined by that moment, but we were here before and our children will be here after. The present article is as much about calling attention to the need for community post-traumatic interventions as it is about affirming our entire humanity as a proud people working for a better future for our children – not just an event.