Maintaining Indigenous Inherent and

Treaty Hunting Rights

Reflections on Short Hills 2015
This past year, specifically, November 2015 was my first involvement with the
Traditional Haudenosaunee Hunt in Short Hills Provincial Park. This hunt in the
modern colonized world began in January 2013 under agreements between the
Haudenosaunee Confederacy Chiefs Council and The Ministry of Natural
Resources and Forestry, which has Settler jurisdiction over the parklands. The
Ontario Provincial Police and the Niagara Regional Police Department provided
road safety and crowd control.
I followed the hunt from afar when I lived on the traditional lands of the
Mowachaht/Muchalaht people. I read about the anti-hunt protests and their
rationale for opposing the hunt. I read the stories written by the local media and
the commentary of the local politicians. It was very clear the arguments from
local politicians and from the anti-hunt protesters that they did not consider their
circumstance as Settlers. No recognition of the Inherent Right of Indigenous
People to their language, culture, and way of life. No understanding of the
defining agreements between our two peoples. And, it appears the oversights
were willful to support continued colonial privilege to ignore the foundational
agreements and commitments that made the Nation State Canada possible.
This is nothing new. It happens daily with Indigenous People across Turtle
Island.
Denial of legally held and recognized rights is one of the hallmark attributes of
racism. I wonder if the local politicians and the anti-hunt protesters even
recognize that working to deny Indigenous Rights and to preclude the honouring
of our cultural practices is simply perpetuating the philosophy that created the
Indian Residential Schools: assimilation through cultural genocide and overt
racism to invalidate Inherent and Treaty Indigenous Rights.
As I settled into life here on Six Nations after my return from the west side of the
Turtle, I renewed connections with my old community in Niagara. I was born in
Niagara and feel a strong connection to the land and to the Short Hills Park
where I spent many occasions long before it was a park. When I heard from
friends in the community about the plan to be at the north entrance to support
the Haudenosaunee hunters, I was in.
The first day, November 14th, I slept in and missed the Hunters arrival at the
park. I heard though from those in attendance that there was a lot of verbal racist
commentary from the anti-hunt protesters. Then by 3 oclock in the afternoon I
was at the north entrance. There were a number of protesters already there. The

content of their posters and banners made me ill. I know the hunters take their
children on the hunt because it is a teaching opportunity in the ways of our
culture to honour the land, to respect the animals that give their lives so we may
eat and be clothed, to observe the protocols of the hunt as we fulfill Creators
instructions. Children should not have to see such things as the messages of hate
and the messages demeaning our culture that littered the entrance. However,
that is a reality for Indigenous Children living in the Settler State of Canada. The
same racist attitudes are in the mainstream press and online day after day.
That first day I set up a smudge on the tailgate of the truck. I could feel the bad
feelings emanating from the protesters across the road and thought it would be
best if we as a group smudged and became of one mind so that we would be
peaceful yet firm in supporting the hunters and ignoring the vociferous slogans of
the protesters.
I was surprised and very happy to see a mix of settler allies. The hunt supporters
are organized by a great Settler ally who almost single-handedly pulled together
disparate community groups into a supportive coalition to the Haudenosaunee
cause. These disparate groups included the Christian Peacemakers who helped
manage traffic and intervened with the police and joined in the songs. The
Hamilton /Halton Animal Liberation Team was there in support of the hunt
recognizing something the anti-hunt protesters refused to acknowledge: you
cannot cherry pick what Treaty rights you will honour.
On November 19th after I gave my thanks to Creator and asked the ancestors to
guide us I was leaning against my truck watching everyone smudging. As I
watched a red-tailed hawk low over my head and to the west, the direction we
look for the ancestors. I took that as a good sign and confirmation that we were
behaving in a good way.
The level of vitriol and nastiness of these protesters shocked me. Their privilege
was evident in their actions and their slogans. I was especially shocked that they
would shine strong flashlights into the eyes of the hunter drivers leaving the park
putting them at risk of having an accident. I was also shocked that the police
supported the protesters holding up hunters vehicles for up to or more than 20
minutes. There is a legal agreement in place between the Settler State and the
Haudenosaunee Confederacy Chiefs Council to allow this hunt. What legal
grounds is there for them to delay the hunters so nasty protesters can shine
lights in their eyes, call them murderers, and make them sit there and take this
nonsense? There is none, of course. The police are simply supporting white
privilege and racism.
I was there the next day early at 3 AM. Again I set up the smudge and said my
prayers and ensured there were smudge materials for anyone wanting to smudge.
My friends from Niagara, especially the women, became more assertive and
organized signing and hand drumming as the hunters began arriving for the day.
The songs were so uplifting and it was awesome to see the strength of our women

and allies using positive energy and song to blow away the dark clouds of racism
and oppression. That night the strategy of using song and positive energy to
counter tyranny and racism became more cohesive. The battle of wills began to
shift and the atmosphere began to take on festive overtones.
There were some incidents that came to my attention that were devastating. One
was a case of an anti-hunt protester women speaking sotto voce, remarking
there was little wonder our kids were committing suicide with all the drum
banging and singing. To that point I have been calm. I was livid. I was ready to
lash out. I spoke with others in our group and I played my flute allowing the light
of Creation to flow through me as it does in times when I am in need. The singers
sang louder, the drumming got louder; we waved our flags and our placards with
messages of support.
The sense of community and solidarity continued to grow over the last couple of
days of the hunt. We were there early and left late both days. We had a fire and
lawn chairs furthering the sense of community. There was laughter. Lots of
laughter as only Indigenous can laugh in the cold and around the fire. Our
numbers increased. The anti-hunt protesters numbers diminished. There were
no more lights shining into drivers eyes, no more 20-minute delays, and no more
racist epithets.
Our fire keeper began the practice of smudging the barricade and the trucks of
the hunters as they entered and as they exited the park. Of course the clouds of
smudge medicines engulfed the protesters. As is the way with the medicines,
their behaviour changed. They complained bitterly about how their clothes
would smell. To us, it is a blessing to catch the scent of the medicines on our
clothes.
There was one instance of violence where a protester physically pushed one of
our Mohawk youth who was escorting an elder who was a hunt organizer, to his
vehicle. I happened to get in the middle of it running to help and ended up falling
into one of our women knocking her into my truck. The protester was not there
the next day.
Some of us took the time to ensure a complaint was filed with the police. The
young officer tried to blow us off saying that it was not a big deal. I said,
Attempting to deny our treaty rights IS a big deal. He backed down. Mind you,
who argues with a pissed-off Mohawk six inches taller and 50 pounds heavier.
On the last day of the event, we feasted at the organizers home. It was the
culmination of a growing experience for all of us. There was more laughter, tears
and expressions of gratitude. We were a community bound by a common
purpose.
A month later, I was with many of the same people at the closing ceremonies for
the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. It was a wringing, emotional

experience to listen to the Indian Residential School survivors who spoke and to
church people that reiterated empty words of apology. The Catholic Church was
there and did not reiterate. In fact, the Arch Bishop talked about good
intentions. Why do I say empty words of apology? Because nothing has
changed and the Short Hills experience was an example of how nothing has
changed. All the focus seems to be on saying nice words yet no one in the settler
community is addressing the systemic institutional racism that makes it okay for
the police to delay the hunters for 20 minutes each because settlers dont like to
honour their treaty obligations.
Yesterday I was at the ceremonial opening of an art exhibit that honours the
survivors of the Indian Residential Schools and those who never made it home.
The churches were there again to reiterate apologies. The Catholic Church was
not invited because they have not even attempted a phony apology.
We heard the same old words. Yes I believe those offering the words did so in a
heartfelt manner. However nothing has changed. The Settler State Canada still
holds privilege through the laws and policies that created and still maintains the
systemic institutional racism that is literally killing our people and damaging our
communities and limiting the potential of Indigenous Peoples.
I was grateful beyond words to here a survivor named Bud step up to the lectern
as requested and offer his comments. He said, I heard these apologies and all
these nice words. I havent seen them on the television. Maybe they have been
on but not often enough that I have seen them. I really dont accept these
apologies because nothing is happening. There is no action to go with the words
to change how white people treat Indians. Nope I can accept these words.
And so it is. If there is to be Reconciliation, there must be acceptance of the
Truth that Canada is essentially built on racist ideology. I will believe
Reconciliation is possible when I see the Churches confront the governments and
the bureaucrats and say Enough is enough. This must end. I will believe it
when I see Canadians demand the dismantling the tyranny of racism that
requires Indigenous People to surrender their rights as Indigenous to take back
their own lands. I will believe it when a Desmond Tutu-like figure steps forward
and confronts with a withering eye and a sharp tongue to denounce the
continuance of racist policies. Then, I and maybe Bud will have hope and accept
the apologies.
Two months after the hunt as I sit here writing this reflection, I can smell the
smoke of the fire and the smoke of the medicines. I see the silhouettes of our
women dancing, drumming and singing against the headlights. I hear the
drumming and the singing. I hear the flute and how it drew silence all around
when I played. I remember the shift in the balance of control as we asserted our
authority as Indigenous Peoples to practice our ways and to defend our rights
with our allies beside us and behind us. I feel the energy and see the light of the
ancestors as they gathered about us in the smoke.

It is a beautiful and powerful thing when we become of one mind in defense of

who we are and in defense of our people, our communities and our ways of being.