Truth and Reconciliation
Some personal reflections on a day -- and concept! -- about which I have mixed feelings. Don't worry, there's still music recommendations at the end.
My original plan for the end of September was a post highlighting my favourite music I heard these past three months. That’s still coming, and hopefully soon. But recently the Canadian federal government announced that September 30th would be the “National Day for Truth and Reconciliation” and, well. I have thoughts! And what is a personal newsletter for, if not for sharing them? So we’re taking a brief detour from music, though if that’s all you’re here for you can jump to the end and I might have something for you. Otherwise, follow along as I attempt to unpack my relationship to this ‘holiday’ and to the idea of “reconciliation” more generally.
Where I’m coming from
For those unaware, I am Michif, or Métis. My family is from what is now Winnipeg, MB — and, while I don’t want to dox myself, I can say my ancestors are deeply connected to the founding of Manitoba, as a united political entity that fought to be recognized as sovereign, and to resist the encroaching presence of Canada. My grandmother’s great-grandfather was part of Manitoba’s first government alongside Louis Riel, and that matters to me. Métis sovereignty matters to me, and at the end of the day I don’t consider myself a “Canadian”. My relationship to this country and its systems of government is largely an adversarial one, and I do view its actions through that lens.
Truth and Reconciliation
Non-Indigenous people are obsessed with reconciliation. Ever since the Truth & Reconciliation Commission released their 2015 report and the National Centre for Truth & Reconciliation was founded, reconciliation has been the framework used by individuals, by organizations, and by governments to guide their relationship with Indigenous people and communities.
But what the fuck does it mean? The TRC itself had a clear focus — their mandate was specifically about the Indian Residential Schools (“schools”) and their historic and continuing impact on our communities. They exposed the truths of what was done to us, and charted a path forward through their 94 calls to action. Reconciliation, in this context, is about concrete steps governments, organizations, and individuals can take to make amends for harm done.
Since then the concept has, mm, drifted. I see ‘reconciliation’ applied to any and every action taken that involves Indigenous people. Reservation Dogs and Rutherford Falls are reconciliation. Painting a train orange, apparently, is reconciliation. Even building oil pipelines can be reconciliation! I find this argument unconvincing, and I find it leads to complacency. Labeling everything an act of reconciliation lets people convince themselves they’re already putting in the necessary work, and stops them moving further and making the harder choices that would actually lead to meaningful change.
So about that holiday…
Look, the Canadian government has never actually cared about Indigenous people except as a problem to be solved. The level of overt violence involved in that problem-solving varies, but at the end of the day that’s always been the mindset. It still is (look what’s happening in Wet’suwet’in territory, in Six Nations, in Mi’kma’ki). The difference, under Trudeau, is in the PR. Talk up your collaboration with Indigenous people out of one side of your mouth, while ordering the RCMP to break our protests, fighting us in court, seizing people’s children out of the other.
It’s true that the establishment of a national holiday is one of the Calls to Action (it’s #80). But it’s also true that it’s one of the easiest ones for the government to implement. And in the absence of other meaningful action — in the absence of treating Indigenous communities with respect, acknowleding our sovereignty, implementing the other Calls — it rings hollow. It’s a symbol, and a good one, but not much more.
What I’m going to do
Ontario didn’t even bother to mandate the holiday, which I guess is honest of them, at least. My workplace has given it as paid time off, though. It’s a slight gesture, but as their Designated Indigenous Employee, I do appreciate it.
Being the Indigenous Guy is tiring. Even though it’s outside my job description, I send them resources I come across. I prompt them to have conversations about how they can better serve Indigenous community members. And at times, when compensated appropriately, I’ve offered concrete suggestions. That’s how I try to make change in my own life. This holiday though…for me, it’s a day off from that. A chance to rest and recharge. And more seriously, a time to reflect on my own family’s experiences with Indian Day Schools — a history I only learned more about this year. For a lot of Indigenous people, it’s going to be similar.
What you should do
If you’re not Indigenous, let us take that time off. Don’t bother us, don’t demand we personally lead you to solutions. Take the initiative to learn about the TRC’s work and the calls to action. Find out about the history of the land you’re on, the people whose territory it is, and what those people are doing today. Find out how you can lend support (try donating money), and do it! Learn that history, form those connections.
Look, I’m just one Michif person. I’m not notably well-educated, I’m not notably knowledgeable. There are many many resources out there from people wiser than me. Just take the time, yeah? Just take it seriously.
OK, here’s the music
That’s still the primary point of this newsletter, after all. Here are five albums by Indigenous performers that I really love, and that I’ve not previously written about here. I also recommend this CBC piece, where a number of Indigenous musicians have shared their perspectives on this new commemorative day and on “reconciliation” more broadly. They share a lot of good music, their own and that of others, that engages frankly with the harms Canada has caused.
An early project by instrumentalist Alain Auger and Inuk singer Elisapie, who went on to release some very good stuff under her own name. This was my introduction to her work though, and I still love it.
Buffy Sainte-Marie - Medicine Songs
Buffy is, obviously, a legend. Her career is decades-long, and this album collects a lot of her more overtly political songs, rerecorded with updated arrangements. Very cool to hear her, in her 70s, revisit and reinterpret older work.
Really deft fusion of glimmering synth-pop and throat-singing techniques. The latter is most often used as a component of the beat undergirding a lyrics-based line (primarily in Inuktitut, with some English), but the times it takes centre stage are among the album’s most exciting.
Jeremy Dutcher - Wolastoqiyik Lintuwakonawa
Dutcher’s work on preserving traditional Wolastoqey songs, and pairing them with decidedly modern-feeling arrangement and vocal technique, is so so cool. His use of archival recording I think really enriches his music as well; not only is he carrying on from his ancestors, he is actively bringing them into the present with him.
In the 80s and 90s there was a wave of world/fusion bands, I think inspired in part by the success of Enya both with Clannad and as a solo artist. A lot of these were rooted in Celtic traditions — Capercaillie, Mary Jane Lamond, Afro Celt Sound System, etc. Aglukark is very clearly part of this same musical movement, but she stands out for both the strength of her songwriting and for its specificity. She draws on her experience as an Inuk woman to deliver something very different from what anyone else in that musical moment was offering, and it’s great.