It part I believe it is how we defend Indigenous rights in Canada. If there are no Indigenous rights, then the last human defenders of the Earth, the Waters, the Wind will have been taken care of and moved aside. The death machine of government, religion, media and corporations will swallow everything up. A blind insatiable monsterous snake who cannot open its mouth wide enough, cannot choke down fast enough enough, enough, enough to quell it's junkie hunger.
The movement to cash in on generations of genocide has begun. Stephen Harper apologized. Compensation has been paid for Indian Residential Schools. Now, the end game has begun.
Government and corporations are playing our people, left and right and all the time. It is hard to build the unity with our histories of oppression and division. There are many amongst us who have given up the faith. Who do not believe that Mother Earth must be protected. Who do not believe that we owe our great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandchildren a healthy environment. Who believe that money and all that it buys is the only thing that matters. That is one of the front lines.
The other front line has been the same for over 150 years. The attack on the spiritual and cultural of the people continues. But now the question is being openly debated, "if they don't practice their culture, if they don't speak their language, why should they have special rights." The idea being the genocide worked or is nearing completion.
The Harper Government strikes coordinated attacks on the environment and on First Nations as they are one and the same. But wait. Some how. Four women in Saskatchewan built a fire that went viral.
The Idle No More movement started quickly and burned fiercely and moved on wings like a bush fire chased by 100 kilometres winds. Speeding across the tops of trees, jumping rivers and roads like lines in the sand. Invigorating and inspiring, our eyes opened widest in its light.
But a fire can only burn fierce for so long. If it is to be our fire, it must be tended. A fire that must always be fed cannot feed. A fire can live in many ways. As a dancing light on a warm summer night. As a roaring welcome companion on a cold one. As embers in the morning, that with wisps of tinder and a breath of air become fierce fire once again. As the sign on the horizon that we are not alone.
Now, then, how do I take this fire and turn it into something that I can use and not fuel something that burns me up from the inside out?
This spring, I collected Maple Sap and made my own Maple Syrup. It took about three weeks and it was a beautiful thing.
And now this. The Vow of Language. I haven't made it yet. I only know what it is. This time. A vow to speak or meditate or listen to my mother tongue, Cree, for one hour everyday for one Month.
I have to figure out how I am going to work it. Check back now and then to see how I'm making out.
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