Showing posts with label memorial march. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memorial march. Show all posts

Monday, August 8, 2011

...One Good Memory...

Neskie Manuel

..."if only one good memory is left in our hearts - I will meet you there" - (from my poem MAGPIE)

…Was recently in Ottawa and unable to attend the funeral of the late Neskie Manuel whom I had come know a little over the past couple years. Neskie is the son of Secwepemc (Shuswap) activist Art Manuel and grandson of late indigenous rights activist, George Manuel and nephew of the late healer and writer, Vera Manuel. Anyone not familiar with these names should brush up on their Indian history and become aware of the relentless commitment this family has demonstrated to their community, their nation and to all indigenous people - all Indians (at least in the land referred to as Canada) owe a debt of gratitude to these people.

It would be inaccurate to say Neskie and I were close friends, but as mentioned, I did spend some time with him the last couple years having visited his reserve and the surrounding area dozens of times. We took a road trip together to Prince George early last year and he stayed with me at my apartment in the city during his involvement at a conference there. Neskie was one of those people I don’t think you could help but like. He was young (30), handsome, soft-spoken, bright-minded, dignified and exemplified in every real way the attributes of leadership that seem naturally to descend upon certain people and who seem to inhabit this aura effortlessly. But like others in his family, Neskie’s understood role as a leader wasn’t assumed by birthright and lineage to other activists, it was actively demonstrated day in day out. Neskie was, among other things, an elected councilor for Neskonlith Band, a tireless advocate for preservation of the Secwepemc language, an open source computer guy (which means NOT using Microsoft or other corporate software or operating systems), a mobile radio broadcaster (a so-called pirate radio operator after oppression by the CRTC), a filmmaker who seemed to have natural skills at all communications technology - a helicopter mechanic, for pete’s sake! (this tutelage begun during his service in the Navy as a “younger” man!). It’s a little hard to comprehend how much experience some people seem to be able to cram into a day, a year…a life. I dug Neskie’s sense of humor and had to laugh when following a couple hours I did on-air on his radio set-up, I asked if he had listened to my program (I wanted his approval, you see), to which he responded, dryly – "ummm…yes…I did get to experience your witty banter". It cracked me up and I think we were pals.

I recall when, within 2 minutes of being introduced to his mother, I was seated at her kitchen table early one Sunday, eating pancakes with a bunch of the Manuels as though they had known me for years. Days later I was to be present at a birthday party for one of Neskie’s nieces and watched how generous and unabashedly affectionate the family was toward each other from top to bottom. For a person like me, being there (a frequent theme of this blog) was a gift and I was touched when, before we ate, Neskie offered a blessing and said a few words in the Secwepemc language. Those I admire most (of any background) all seem to share and exhibit in an almost imperceptibly subtle way the same type of unassuming humility, selflessness and generosity of spirit. In the company of people like this you feel safe and somehow…important.

I cannot speak or know of the torments, passions or forces which lured Neskie away from beside a campfire at a traditional family campsite in the back country (early in the AM on Mother’s Day this year) and then delivered him to the nearby river where he was found downstream some weeks later after an exhaustive search. Nor is it my intention to speak of loss or unrealized aspirations, for Neskie surely experienced and gave far more in his brief 30 years than many are able to in a much longer lifetime.

Perhaps the best thing I can say is that sometimes you wish only for a little more time with some people and maybe that I am somehow…changed…and better for briefly knowing Neskie and his people.

Send us your soft power, Neskie.

All my relations.



© 2011 Champsteen Publishing

Monday, February 14, 2011

For What It's Worth...(20th Annual Missing & Murdered Women's Memorial March)...editorial


2010 Women's March


the 20th Annual Missing Woman’s March (in East Vancouver) is many things to many people; a call for justice, a call for peace, a time to reflect or to grieve or a fleeting moment to pray that no other mother, daughter, sister, niece, aunty ever become one taken as so many have been before. I go simply to honor the ones lost and to support their families with my presence. At the end of the day I believe that each other are all we have. I feel that relatives and people I never met have prayed for me in the same way that I pray for the ones to come after me. It is a deeply held conviction that gets stronger with me as I get older. Time and experience shows there is little consolation or comfort to be found in institutions or society (such as it is) in general. If I, as a native person, cannot be counted on to provide (at a minimum) moral support, how can I expect anything from anyone else? One need only remember how last year the city of Vancouver pressured organizers of the march to postpone the event until after the Olympic party was over. It may have seemed to be something of a downer for all those more keyed on having a good time. Fortunately, the people who knew better did better and the march took place on Valentine’s Day just as it will this year. In my mind, the power in ceremony is derived from the presence and common purpose of those in attendance…it is about being there. Down here, everybody knows everybody it seems and identifying yourself as a member of a community needs to be exemplified in some active fashion. Politics and rhetoric will always find a platform at the periphery of these things but the love and spirit of the people who have lost someone to an angry and insatiable culture can’t be diminished. If nothing else, today’s march may simply be a call for grace…


© 2011 Champsteen Publishing