Today, I’m watching this film:
My aim was just to show my kid her grandpa, there among the indigenous delegations; but of course, start watching, and it is remarkably clear that, despite what the champions of derivative, tragedy porn works like ‘Secret Path’ would have us believe, the truth has been publicly available, for generations.
To watch this film is to understand this present moment, and the bone-weariness of Indigenous people who have to deal, daily, ceaselessly, in gestures large and small, with arrogance, disdain, and lack of comprehension from colonial governments.
To watch this film is also to see sexism written plain; see Pierre Trudeau’s condescending bullshit response to calls for equal rights for women. This is before Bill C-31 changed things at least in part for Indigenous women, making us at least somewhat closer to equal in colonial law.
To watch this film is to see religious arrogance go up against respectful reverence.
To watch this film is to marvel at the strength of all the people who were there, and their children, and the children yet to come, and understand, when we win this long tussle, we will have done something marvellous and astonishing, something truly civilized.
Megwetch, Maurice Bulbulion; Thank you, National Film Board; Gchi Miigwech, everyone who did this work, who carried this burden, who envisioned a future and dedicated themselves to the struggle. Thanks, Dad, for doing your part.
All My Relations
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p.s that’s my dad, a backbencher, round about 19:00, sitting behind Jim Sinclair; Dad’s in dark blue and buckskin and the infamous Fighting Hat.
The image on this page is from Pixabay.com. They provide an array of amazing Creative Commons licensed images. This one is by Gerd Altman of Germany
Reblogged this on Prairiepomes.
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