McGill-Queen's Indigenous and Northern Studies - Böcker

Fifty years ago, Markoosie Patsauq, then a bush pilot in his late twenties living in the tiny, isolated High Arctic community of Resolute, spent his spare time quietly writing a story that effectively emerged as the first Indigenous novel released in Canada. Published in English under the title Harpoon of the Hunter in 1970 by McGill-Queen's University Press, that version of the story was Patsauq's own adaptation. In the years that followed the widely acclaimed English edition was translated into many different languages, but what has remained obscured until the present day is the Inuktitut text originally produced by the author.In collaboration with Patsauq, Valerie Henitiuk and Marc-Antoine Mahieu have foregrounded the original Inuktitut text to inform their translations into both English and French. This critical edition, complete with the story in both Inuktitut syllabics and Latin script, utilizes the author's handwritten manuscript as well as interviews with Patsauq to produce a new, rigorous examination of this literary and cultural milestone. This work also includes the first comprehensive account of the critical response to his writing while underscoring the way the much-altered English adaptation from 1970 shaped that response.A momentous achievement that situates a new classic in the twenty-first century, Hunter with Harpoon brings readers back to the roots of Markoosie Patsauq's Inuit story to experience it as it was originally written.

Launched by healthcare providers in January 2018, the #aHand2Hold campaign confronted the Quebec government's practice of separating children from their families during medical evacuation airlifts, which disproportionately affected remote and northern Indigenous communities. Pediatric emergency physician Samir Shaheen-Hussain's captivating narrative of this successful campaign, which garnered unprecedented public attention and media coverage, seeks to answer lingering questions about why such a cruel practice remained in place for so long. In doing so it serves as an indispensable case study of contemporary medical colonialism in Quebec. Fighting for a Hand to Hold exposes the medical establishment's role in the displacement, colonization, and genocide of Indigenous peoples in Canada. Through meticulously gathered government documentation, historical scholarship, media reports, public inquiries, and personal testimonies, Shaheen-Hussain connects the draconian medevac practice with often-disregarded crimes and medical violence inflicted specifically on Indigenous children. This devastating history and ongoing medical colonialism prevent Indigenous communities from attaining internationally recognized measures of health and social well-being because of the pervasive, systemic anti-Indigenous racism that persists in the Canadian public health care system - and in settler society at large. Shaheen-Hussain's unique perspective combines his experience as a frontline pediatrician with his long-standing involvement in anti-authoritarian social justice movements. Sparked by the indifference and callousness of those in power, this book draws on the innovative work of Indigenous scholars and activists to conclude that a broader decolonization struggle calling for reparations, land reclamation, and self-determination for Indigenous peoples is critical to achieve reconciliation in Canada.

In 1911-1912, French-Canadian anthropologist Marius Barbeau spent a year recording forty texts in the Wyandot language as spoken by native speakers in Oklahoma. Though he intended to return and complete his linguistic study, he never did. More than a century later Forty Narratives in the Wyandot Language continues Barbeau's work. John Steckley provides an engaging analysis and fresh translation of the texts in order to preserve the traditional language and cultural heritage of the Wyandot or Wendat people. Leveraging four decades of studying the dialects of Wyandot and Wendat and his role as tribal linguist for the Wyandotte Nation, the author corrects errors in Barbeau's earlier text while adding personal anecdotes to provide readers with a unique comparative work. The stories in this collection, largely drawn from the traditional folklore of the Wyandot people and told in a language that has been dormant for decades, act as a time capsule for traditional tales, Indigenous history, humour, and Elder knowledge. Steckley's new translation not only aids Wyandot peoples of Oklahoma, Kansas, and Michigan in reclaiming their language but also gives researchers worldwide a rich, up-to-date reference for linguistic study. A significant literary record of a people and a language, Forty Narratives in the Wyandot Language is a major contribution to the preservation and revitalization of an Indigenous language in North America.

In 1911-1912, French-Canadian anthropologist Marius Barbeau spent a year recording forty texts in the Wyandot language as spoken by native speakers in Oklahoma. Though he intended to return and complete his linguistic study, he never did. More than a century later Forty Narratives in the Wyandot Language continues Barbeau's work. John Steckley provides an engaging analysis and fresh translation of the texts in order to preserve the traditional language and cultural heritage of the Wyandot or Wendat people. Leveraging four decades of studying the dialects of Wyandot and Wendat and his role as tribal linguist for the Wyandotte Nation, the author corrects errors in Barbeau's earlier text while adding personal anecdotes to provide readers with a unique comparative work. The stories in this collection, largely drawn from the traditional folklore of the Wyandot people and told in a language that has been dormant for decades, act as a time capsule for traditional tales, Indigenous history, humour, and Elder knowledge. Steckley's new translation not only aids Wyandot peoples of Oklahoma, Kansas, and Michigan in reclaiming their language but also gives researchers worldwide a rich, up-to-date reference for linguistic study. A significant literary record of a people and a language, Forty Narratives in the Wyandot Language is a major contribution to the preservation and revitalization of an Indigenous language in North America.

Daughters of Aataentsic highlights and connects the unique lives of seven Weⁿdat/Waⁿdat women whose legacies are still felt today. Spanning the continent and the colonial borders of New France, British North America, Canada, and the United States, this book shows how Wendat people and place came together in Ontario, Quebec, Michigan, Ohio, Kansas, and Oklahoma, and how generations of activism became intimately tied with notions of family, community, motherwork, and legacy from the seventeenth to the twenty-first century. The lives of the seven women tell a story of individual and community triumph despite difficulties and great loss. Kathryn Magee Labelle aims to decolonize the historical discipline by researching with Indigenous people rather than researching on them. It is a collaborative effort, guided by an advisory council of eight Weⁿdat/Waⁿdat women, reflecting the needs and desires of community members. Daughters of Aataentsic challenges colonial interpretations by demonstrating the centrality of women, past and present, to Weⁿdat/Waⁿdat culture and history. Labelle draws from institutional archives and published works, as well as from oral histories and private collections.Breaking new ground in both historical narratives and community-guided research in North America, Daughters of Aataentsic offers an alternative narrative by considering the ways in which individual Weⁿdat/Waⁿdat women resisted colonialism, preserved their culture, and acted as matriarchs.

In the making of the modern Nordic states in the first half of the twentieth century, elementary education was paramount in creating a notion of citizenship that was universal and equal for all citizens. Yet these elementary education policies ignored, in most cases, the language, culture, wishes, and needs of minorities such as the indigenous Sámi.Presenting the Sámi as an active, transnational population in early twentieth-century northern Europe, Otso Kortekangas examines how educational policies affected the Sámi people residing in the northern parts of Norway, Sweden, and Finland. In this detailed study, Kortekangas explores what the arguments were for the lack of Sámi language in schools, how Sámi teachers have promoted the use of their mother tongue within the school systems, and how the history of the Sámi compares to other indigenous and minority populations globally.Timely in its focus on educational policies in multiethnic societies, and ambitious in its scope, the book provides essential information for educators, policy-makers, and academics, as well as anyone interested in the history of education, and the relationship between large-scale government policies and indigenous peoples.

Before contact with white people, the Indigenous peoples of the Northwest Coast traded amongst themselves and with other Indigenous groups farther inland, but by the end of the 1780s, when Russian coasters had penetrated the Gulf of Alaska and British merchantmen were frequenting Nootka Sound, trade had become the dominant economic activity in the area. The Tlingit, Haida, Tsimshian, Nootka, Salish, and Chinook spent much of their time hunting fur-bearing animals and trading their pelts to settler traders for metals, firearms, textiles, and foodstuffs. The Northwest Coast First Nations used their newly acquired goods in intertribal trade while the Euro-American traders dealt their skins in China for teas, silks, and porcelains that they then sold in Europe and America.While previous studies have concentrated on the boom years of the fur trade before the War of 1812, James Gibson reveals that the maritime fur trade persisted into the 1840s and that it was not solely or even principally the domain of American traders. He gives an account of Russian, British, Spanish, and American participation in the Northwest traffic, describes the market in South China, and outlines the evolution of the coast trade, including the means and problems. He also assesses the physical and cultural effects of this trade on the Northwest Coast and Hawaiian Islands and on the industrialization of the New England states.Uncovering many Russian-language sources, Gibson also consulted the records of the Russian-American, East India, and Hudson’s Bay Companies, the unpublished logs and journals of American ships, and the business correspondence of several New England shipowners. No more comprehensive or painstakingly researched account of the maritime fur trade of the Northwest Coast has ever been written.

Winner- 2022 Governor General's Literary Award for English-Language NonfictionMembers of Eli Baxter's generation are the last of the hunting and gathering societies living on Turtle Island. They are also among the last fluent speakers of the Anishinaabay language known as Anishinaabaymowin.Aki-wayn-zih is a story about the land and its spiritual relationship with the Anishinaabayg, from the beginning of their life on Miss-koh-tay-sih Minis (Turtle Island) to the present day. Baxter writes about Anishinaabay life before European contact, his childhood memories of trapping, hunting, and fishing with his family on traditional lands in Treaty 9 territory, and his personal experience surviving the residential school system. Examining how Anishinaabay Kih-kayn-daa-soh-win (knowledge) is an elemental concept embedded in the Anishinaabay language, Aki-wayn-zih explores history, science, math, education, philosophy, law, and spiritual teachings, outlining the cultural significance of language to Anishinaabay identity. Recounting traditional Ojibway legends in their original language, fables in which moral virtues double as survival techniques, and detailed guidelines for expertly trapping or ensnaring animals, Baxter reveals how the residential school system shaped him as an individual, transformed his family, and forever disrupted his reserve community and those like it.Through spiritual teachings, historical accounts, and autobiographical anecdotes, Aki-wayn-zih offers a new form of storytelling from the Anishinaabay point of view.

"Our names – Atiqput – are very meaningful. They are our identification. They are our Spirits. We are named after what's in the sky for strength, what's in the water ... the land, body parts. Every name is attached to every part of our body and mind. Yes, every name is alive. Every name has a meaning. Much of our names have been misspelled and many of them have lost their meanings forever. Our Project Naming has been about identifying Inuit, who became nameless over the years, just "unidentified eskimos ..." With Project Naming, we have put Inuit meanings back in the pictures, back to life." Piita IrniqFor over two decades, Inuit collaborators living across Inuit Nunangat and in the South have returned names to hundreds of previously anonymous Inuit seen in historical photographs held by Library and Archives Canada as part of Project Naming. This innovative photo-based history research initiative was established by the Inuit school Nunavut Sivuniksavut and the national archive.Atiqput celebrates Inuit naming practices and through them honours Inuit culture, history, and storytelling. Narratives by Inuit elders, including Sally Kate Webster, Piita Irniq, Manitok Thompson, Ann Meekitjuk Hanson, and David Serkoak, form the heart of the book, as they reflect on naming traditions and the intergenerational conversations spurred by the photographic archive. Other contributions present scholarly insights and research projects that extend Project Naming's methodology, interspersed with pictorial essays by the artist Barry Pottle and the filmmaker Asinnajaq.Through oral testimony and photography, Atiqput rewrites the historical record created by settler societies and challenges a legacy of colonial visualization.

A silent clapboard church on a barren Arctic landscape is more than just a place of worship: it is a symbol that can evoke fraught reactions to the history of Christian colonization. In the Inuit homeland of Northern Labrador, however, that church is more likely to resonate with the voices of a well-rehearsed choir accompanied by an accomplished string orchestra or spirited brass bands. The Inuit making this music are stewards of a tradition of complex sacred music introduced by Moravian missionaries in the late 1700s – a tradition that, over time, these musicians transformed into a cultural expression genuinely their own.Called Upstairs is the story of this Labrador Inuit music practice. It is not principally a story of forced adoption but of adaptation, mediation, and agency, exploring the transformation of a colonial artifact into an expression of Inuit aesthetic preference, spirituality, and community identity. Often overlaying the Moravian traditions with defining characteristics drawn from pre-contact expressive culture, Inuit musicians imbued this once-alien music with their own voices. Told through archival documents, oral histories of Inuit musicians, and the music itself, Called Upstairs tracks the emergence of this Labrador Moravian music tradition across two and a half centuries.Tom Gordon presents a chronicle of Inuit leadership and agency in the face of colonialism through a unique lens. In this time of reconciliation, this story offers a window into Inuit resilience and the power of a culture’s creative expressions.

A silent clapboard church on a barren Arctic landscape is more than just a place of worship: it is a symbol that can evoke fraught reactions to the history of Christian colonization. In the Inuit homeland of Northern Labrador, however, that church is more likely to resonate with the voices of a well-rehearsed choir accompanied by an accomplished string orchestra or spirited brass bands. The Inuit making this music are stewards of a tradition of complex sacred music introduced by Moravian missionaries in the late 1700s – a tradition that, over time, these musicians transformed into a cultural expression genuinely their own.Called Upstairs is the story of this Labrador Inuit music practice. It is not principally a story of forced adoption but of adaptation, mediation, and agency, exploring the transformation of a colonial artifact into an expression of Inuit aesthetic preference, spirituality, and community identity. Often overlaying the Moravian traditions with defining characteristics drawn from pre-contact expressive culture, Inuit musicians imbued this once-alien music with their own voices. Told through archival documents, oral histories of Inuit musicians, and the music itself, Called Upstairs tracks the emergence of this Labrador Moravian music tradition across two and a half centuries.Tom Gordon presents a chronicle of Inuit leadership and agency in the face of colonialism through a unique lens. In this time of reconciliation, this story offers a window into Inuit resilience and the power of a culture's creative expressions.

The nineteenth century was a time of upheaval for the Algonquin people. As they came into more sustained contact with fur traders, missionaries, settlers, and other outside agents, their ways of life were disrupted and forever changed. Yet the Algonquin were not entirely without control over the cultural change that confronted them in this period. Where the opportunity arose, they adapted by making decisions and choices according to their own interests.Cultural Change among the Algonquin in the Nineteenth Century traces the history of settler-Indigenous encounter in two areas around the modern Ontario-Quebec border, in the period after colonial incursion but before the full effects of the Indian Act of 1876 were felt. While Lake Timiskaming was the site of commercial logging operations beginning in the 1830s, the Lake Abitibi region had much less contact with outsiders until the early twentieth century. These different timelines permit comparison of social and cultural change among Indigenous peoples of these two regions. Drawing on nineteenth-century archival sources and twentieth-century ethnographic accounts, Leila Inksetter sheds new light on band formation and governance, the introduction of elected chiefs, food provisioning, environmental changes, and the interaction between Indigenous spirituality and Catholicism.Cultural change among the nineteenth-century Algonquin was experienced not only as an uninvited imposition from outside but as a dynamic response to new circumstances by Indigenous people themselves. Inksetter makes a case for greater recognition of Algonquin agency and decision making in this period before the implementation of the Indian Act.

The nineteenth century was a time of upheaval for the Algonquin people. As they came into more sustained contact with fur traders, missionaries, settlers, and other outside agents, their ways of life were disrupted and forever changed. Yet the Algonquin were not entirely without control over the cultural change that confronted them in this period. Where the opportunity arose, they adapted by making decisions and choices according to their own interests.Cultural Change among the Algonquin in the Nineteenth Century traces the history of settler-Indigenous encounter in two areas around the modern Ontario-Quebec border, in the period after colonial incursion but before the full effects of the Indian Act of 1876 were felt. While Lake Timiskaming was the site of commercial logging operations beginning in the 1830s, the Lake Abitibi region had much less contact with outsiders until the early twentieth century. These different timelines permit comparison of social and cultural change among Indigenous peoples of these two regions. Drawing on nineteenth-century archival sources and twentieth-century ethnographic accounts, Leila Inksetter sheds new light on band formation and governance, the introduction of elected chiefs, food provisioning, environmental changes, and the interaction between Indigenous spirituality and Catholicism.Cultural change among the nineteenth-century Algonquin was experienced not only as an uninvited imposition from outside but as a dynamic response to new circumstances by Indigenous people themselves. Inksetter makes a case for greater recognition of Algonquin agency and decision making in this period before the implementation of the Indian Act.

What makes music Métis, and who gets to decide? Complex dynamics of recognition, non-recognition, and erasure have played out over a history of Métis music-making, from the Red River Resistance all the way to the present day.Monique Giroux argues that Métis music reflects broader social relationships, in particular the politics of recognition. Drawing on newspaper articles, archival documents, interviews with Métis and non-Métis musicians, and over a decade of research at cultural festivals, she charts a history of reframings: a changing but problematic relationship whereby settlers define the boundaries of acceptance to assert control over Métis identity and culture. Complicating this narrative, Giroux points to the many ways Métis have resisted settler recognition and erasure – both within mainstream old-time fiddling and at Métis-run events where people have continued to gather, tell stories, and draw on music to rebuild relationships in a time of resurgence.Métis Music critically examines music as a shifting site of encounter, showing its readers what to listen for, how to learn by listening, and the importance of acting intentionally with the learning gained through listening.

What makes music Métis, and who gets to decide? Complex dynamics of recognition, non-recognition, and erasure have played out over a history of Métis music-making, from the Red River Resistance all the way to the present day.Monique Giroux argues that Métis music reflects broader social relationships, in particular the politics of recognition. Drawing on newspaper articles, archival documents, interviews with Métis and non-Métis musicians, and over a decade of research at cultural festivals, she charts a history of reframings: a changing but problematic relationship whereby settlers define the boundaries of acceptance to assert control over Métis identity and culture. Complicating this narrative, Giroux points to the many ways Métis have resisted settler recognition and erasure – both within mainstream old-time fiddling and at Métis-run events where people have continued to gather, tell stories, and draw on music to rebuild relationships in a time of resurgence.Métis Music critically examines music as a shifting site of encounter, showing its readers what to listen for, how to learn by listening, and the importance of acting intentionally with the learning gained through listening.

The atrocities of the residential school system in Canada are amply documented. Less well-known is the history of day schools, which some two hundred thousand Indigenous youth attended.The Curve Lake Indian Day School operated for over ninety years, from 1899 to 1978. Implementing Indigenous community research practices, Jackson Pind, alongside the Chief and Council of Curve Lake First Nation, conducted a search of the federal archive on operations at the school. Students by Day presents the findings, revealing that the government failed in its fiduciary duty to protect students. Harmful and discriminatory policies forced children to abandon their language and culture and left them subject to many types of abuse. To supplement this documentation, Pind also interviewed survivors of the school, who shared their often difficult testimony. He situates Curve Lake’s development and operations within the wider context of Canadian assimilation policies, noting the lasting impacts on Anishinaabe identity and culture.Not only recovering the archive, written and oral, but building on files repatriated to the community, Students by Day is a story of Indigenous resilience, activism, and hope in the face of educational injustice.

In Healing through Art Nadia Ferrara shows how art therapy has been used as a successful form of healing among Crees. The result of her work as an art therapist in communities in northern Quebec, the book provides a comprehensive analysis of the nature of her patients' experiences. Ferrara examines how individual experience of trauma is perceived, defined, and narrated by Cree individuals and discusses the role that Cree culture and Cree definitions of self play in therapy.Ferrara, who is accepted as a healer in Cree communities, shows how art therapy became a ritual for her patients, noting that Crees often associate art therapy and their experience in the bush and arguing that both constitute a place for them to re-affirm their notions of self. By including patient drawings and letting us hear Cree voices, Healing through Art gives us a sense of the reality of everyday Cree experience. This innovative book transcends disciplinary boundaries and makes a significant contribution to anthropology, Indigeonous studies, and clinical psychology.

Secwépemc People, Land, and Laws is a journey through the 10,000-year history of the Interior Plateau nation in British Columbia. Told through the lens of past and present Indigenous storytellers, this volume detail how a homeland has shaped Secwépemc existence while the Secwépemc have in turn shaped their homeland.Marianne Ignace and Ronald Ignace, with contributions from ethnobotanist Nancy Turner, archaeologist Mike Rousseau, and geographer Ken Favrholdt, compellingly weave together Secwépemc narratives about ancestors’ deeds. They demonstrate how these stories are the manifestation of Indigenous laws (stsq'ey') for social and moral conduct among humans and all sentient beings on the land, and for social and political relations within the nation and with outsiders. Breathing new life into stories about past transformations, the authors place these narratives in dialogue with written historical sources and knowledge from archaeology, ethnography, linguistics, earth science, and ethnobiology. In addition to a wealth of detail about Secwépemc land stewardship, the social and political order, and spiritual concepts and relations embedded in the Indigenous language, the book shows how between the mid-1800s and 1920s the Secwépemc people resisted devastating oppression and the theft of their land, and fought to retain political autonomy while tenaciously maintaining a connection with their homeland, ancestors, and laws.An exemplary work in collaboration, Secwépemc People, Land, and Laws points to the ways in which Indigenous laws and traditions can guide present and future social and political process among the Secwépemc and with settler society.

The commemoration of a nation’s past is a highly contested process, fraught with identity politics and competing interests. For over a century – even as the government of Canada denied them the rights to recognize or practise their cultures – Indigenous Peoples have challenged the often narrow and one-sided interpretations found in museums, at historic sites, or alongside statues or monuments.Cody Groat demonstrates how the federal government actively shapes complex national narratives that are mediated through the perspectives of historians, elected officials, and leading civil servants. From the commemoration of the earliest human habitations in North America to the recognition of the Indian residential school system, the state has constructed a past imbued with patriotism and national pride. But Indigenous interests diverge from those of the state. From small acts of defiance, such as the refusal to share sacred knowledge, to open acts of resistance, such as the citizen’s arrest of an archaeologist, Indigenous people have long fought for the opportunity to share their stories as they know them.Always a Part of the Land calls for a critical reinterpretation not only of the nation’s history but also of how we think about the past and how this shapes ongoing relationships between Indigenous Peoples and the state.

Though linguists estimate that hundreds of languages are in danger of extinction, everyday use of Kwak'wala, an indigenous language spoken in British Columbia, reveals that it has been strategically maintained even among young speakers as a marker of cultural identity. Anne Marie Goodfellow explores the relationship between language, culture, and identity through a case study of the current use of Kwak'wala in two communities, Quatsino and Kingcome Inlet.Talking in Context demonstrates the importance of cultural contact on the structure of languages and addresses the socio-cultural aspects of indigenous language use in the modern world. Goodfellow's analysis of linguistic data from three generations of Kwak'wala speakers shows that English has greatly influenced grammar and phonology. Even though Kwak'wala is being replaced by English as the language of communication, Goodfellow found that speakers with varying degrees of fluency use the native language tactically to signal Kwak'wala identity and for ceremony.Talking in Context shows the ways in which indigenous languages may one day be restored to broader uses in the communities to which they are significant.

From Wooden Ploughs to Welfare examines the reserve system imposed by the Canadian government in the 1870s - a system, rooted in theories of racial difference, that stifled initiative, opportunity, and self-esteem. The 1960s saw the collapse of the reserve economy, until then sustained by casual wage work or trapping. The government's answer was a welfare program which marked a new era of deeper dependency. Helen Buckley argues that later government programs have proven equally discouraging: schooling has improved but drop-out rates remain high, economic development remains a low priority, and large sums are spent on manpower courses that seldom lead to jobs. The many who sought a better life by moving to the city received no government assistance at all. Buckley argues that self-government is the only solution to the economic isolation and underdevelopment of native Canadians. She focuses on Status Indians in the Prairie provinces, but her analysis and conclusions are applicable to Status Indians in other regions.

Sioui has produced a work not only of metahistory but of moral reflections. He contrasts Euroamerican ethnocentrism and feelings of racial superiority with the Amerindian belief in the "Great Circle of Life" and shows that human beings must establish intellectual and emotional connections with the entire living world if they hope to achieve abundance, quality, and peace for all. Sioui is proud to be a Huron and an Amerindian and is fully aware of the injustices that the aboriginal people of North America have suffered - and continue to suffer - at the hands of Euroamericans. He is convinced that the greatness of Amerindians does not lie only in the past but that Native peoples will play an even more important role in the future by providing ideas essential to creating aviable way of life for North America and the world. While this is a polemical work, Sioui never descends to recrimination or vituperative condemnation, even when that might seem justified. Instead, he has given us a polemic that is written at the level of philosophy.

In 1868 American explorer Charles Francis Hall interviewed several Inuit hunters who spoke of strangers travelling through their land. Hall immediately jumped to the conclusion that the hunters were talking about survivors of the Franklin expedition and set off for the Melville Peninsula, the location of many of the sightings, to collect further stories and evidence to support his supposition. His theory, however, was roundly dismissed by historians of his day, who concluded that the Inuit had been referring to other white explorers, despite significant discrepancies between the Inuit evidence and the records of other expeditions. In Strangers Among Us Woodman re-examines the Inuit tales in light of modern scholarship and concludes that Hall's initial conclusions are supported by Inuit remembrances, remembrances that do not correlate with other expeditions but are consistent with Franklin's.

The True Spirit and Original Intent of Treaty 7 is based on the testimony of over 80 elders from the five First Nations involved in Treaty 7 - the Bloods, Peigans, Siksika, Stoney, and Tsuu T'ina. Their recollections highlight the grave misconceptions and misrepresentations between the two sides, due in part to inadequate interpretation and/or deliberate attempts to mislead. The elders consistently report that the treaty as they understood it was a peace treaty, not a surrender of land, and that they had agreed to "share" the land with the white newcomers in exchange for resources to establish new economies - education, medical assistance, and annuity payments. The book provides both a historical overview of Treaty 7 and an analysis of the literature on treaties generally and Treaty 7 specifically. It makes clear that different agendas, different languages, and different world views affected each side's interpretation of events. This review of the events and interpretations surrounding Treaty 7 takes place at a time when aboriginal and indigenous peoples all over the world are re-evaluating their relationships with imperial powers. It was undertaken in good faith in hopes that it will begin a dialogue that can alter the dominant discourse of Euro-Canadian society, which has been so damaging to aboriginal people.

Consisting of a series of stories, events, and episodes, the book highlights shifting patterns, attitudes, and perspectives toward women in the Prairies. One of Carter's overarching themes is that women are seldom in a position to invent or project their own images, identities, or ideas of themselves, nor are they free to fully author their own texts. Focusing on captivity narratives, a popular genre in the United States that has received little attention in Canada, Carter looks at depictions of white women as victims of Aboriginal aggressors and explores the veracity of a number of accounts, including those of Fanny Kelly and Big Bear captives Theresa Delaney and Theresa Gowanlock, Canada's most famous captives. Carter also examines depictions of Aboriginal women as sinister and dangerous that appeared in the press as well as in government and some missionary publications. These representations of women, and the race and gender hierarchies created by them, endured in the Canadian West long after the last decades of the nineteenth century. Capturing Women fits into a growing body of literature on the question of women, race, and imperialism. Carter adopts a colonial framework, arguing that while the Prairies do not readily conjure up the powerful images of Empire, fundamental features of colonialism are clearly present in the extension of the power of the Canadian state and the maintenance of sharp social, economic, and spatial distinctions between the dominant and subordinate populations. She highlights similarities between images of women on the Prairies and symbols of women in other colonial cultures, such as the memsahib in Britain and the Indian captive in the United States.

The first mega-scale hydro project to be built in the sub-Arctic, capable of generating as much electricity as fifteen nuclear power plants, its impact includes disruption of vast areas in an extremely fragile ecosystem as well as displacement of native peoples and the introduction of dangerous levels of mercury into their food supply. The debate over these complex environmental issues has been further complicated by political issues stemming from the importance of the project to the economic development of Quebec and the sale of at least ten percent of the electricity generated the United States. The contributors examine core issues of the controversy both in relation to James Bay and to other large hydroelectric projects, such as the Aswan dam in Egypt and the Three Gorges dam in China. Providing insights from an unusual variety of disciplines, the authors offer important considerations that must be taken into account as Quebec assesses additional phases of hydroelectric development of the watershed east of Hudson Bay. Contributors include Raymond B. Coppinger (Hampshire College), Bill Dale Roebuck (Dartmouth Medical School), Will Ryan (Hampshire College), Adrian Tanner (Memorial University), Stanley L. Warner (Hampshire College), Kessler E. Woodward (University of Alaska), and Oran R. Young (Dartmouth College).

In The Marshall Decision and Native Rights Ken Coates explains the cross-cultural, legal, and political implications of the recent Supreme Court decision on the Donald Marshall case. He describes the events, personalities, and conflicts that brought the Maritimes to the brink of a major confrontation between Mi'kmaq and the non-Mi'kmaq fishers in the fall of 1999, detailing the bungling by federal departments and the lack of police preparedness. He shows how political, business, and Mi'kmaq leaders in the Maritimes handled the volatile situation, urging non-violence and speaking out against racism, in contrast to the way federal and regional leaders have responded in other parts of the country. Legal victories such as Marshall, argues Coates, are a double-edged sword that provide greater legal clarity but expand the gap between indigenous and non-indigenous peoples in Canada. Coates recounts the history of Mi'kmaq-white contact in the region and considers the impact of native rights on natural resources, showing that the costs will be borne mainly by rural Canadians. By placing the local and regional reaction to the Marshall decision in the broader historical, national, and international context of indigenous political and legal rights The Marshall Decision and Native Rights shows how little Canada has learned from three decades of First Nations legal conflicts and how far the country is from meaningful reconciliation.

An in-depth examination of the ethnographic content and impact of literary representations of "Canada as North."

A grandmother, daughter, and granddaughter take us on a remarkable journey in which the cycles of life - childhood, adolescence, marriage, birthing and child rearing - are presented against the contrasting experiences of three successive generations. Their memories and reflections give us poignant insight into the history of the people of the new territory of Nunavut. Apphia Awa, who was born in 1931, experienced the traditional life on the land while Rhoda Katsak, Apphia's daughter, was part of the transitional generation who were sent to government schools. In contrast to both, Sandra Katsak, Rhoda's daughter, has grown up in the settlement of Pond Inlet among the conveniences and tensions of contemporary northern communities - video games and coffee shops but also drugs and alcohol. During the last years of Apphia's life Rhoda and Sandra began working to reconnect to their traditional culture and learn the art of making traditional skin clothing. Through the storytelling in Saqiyuq, Apphia, Rhoda, and Sandra explore the transformations that have taken place in the lives of the Inuit and chart the struggle of the Inuit to reclaim their traditional practices and integrate them into their lives. Nancy Wachowich became friends with Rhoda Katsak and her family during the early 1990s and was able to record their stories before Apphia's death in 1996. Saqiyuq will appeal to everyone interested in the Inuit, the North, family bonds, and a good story.