Enough for all
February 18, 2022
Host: Frances MacEachen
Guests: Rosie Sylliboy, John William (Sa’n Sulian) Cremo, Kenny Prosper
Scottish Gaels settled in Mi'kma'ki, the ancestral and unceded territory of the Mi'kmaq (L'nu'k), roughly between the mid-1700s and mid-1800s. Tens of thousands of Scottish Gaels arrived in large family groups, joining earlier European settlers. As a people rejecting, fleeing and being displaced by a British imperial agenda in Scotland's Gàidhealtachd (Gaelic-speaking areas), the Gaels then displaced the Indigenous people of this land, whether they were fully aware of it or not.
The two groups have lived side by side for generations, especially around the Bras d' Or Lakes. There has not been enough done to document the interaction between Gaels and Mi'kmaq (L'nu'k ), but stories and memories are still shared, both heartwarming and sad.
In this session special guests Rosie Sylliboy and John William (Tiny) Cremo of We'koqma'k and Kenny Prosper of Eskasoni and Halifax spoke of growing up in active communities, in big families and extended families who helped each other. They shared the importance of their language and the challenges of racism and not having enough room for housing, enough access to land in their traditional unceded territory.
The word Mi'kmaq (and Mi'kmaw) is used in this interview, as is L' nu. Mi'kmaq refers to an Algonquian Indigenous nation that occupies the territory of Mi'kma'ki (Atlantic Canada and the Gaspé peninsula). ... L'nu or L'nuk (plural), is the term the Mi'kmaq use to describe themselves as Indigenous people. It means “the people.”
What We Heard
John William Cremo opened by offering a Mi'kmaw prayer to the four directions.
Rosie Sylliboy reflected on times of plenty in her community, usually during a celebration when there was lots of food and people around. “I remember when I was younger, we used to gather quite a bit and meet at the hall, for a concert or something happening,” she said. “There are great memories that come with a gathering like that.”
"We’koqma'q was a good place for me to live," said John (Tiny) Cremo, who lived there all his life. When his father was working away and his mother studying to become an RN, Tiny was head of the household. At 16 he chauffeured siblings to hockey and baseball games and practices, and relied a lot on the help of his extended family. "I am so grateful, that . . .Rosie’s father, and my aunts and my uncles told me how to do hunting and fishing, and take care of the animals, make wood, and get basket strips. We all worked together like that. And if I needed anything else, I went to ask people around me, my god parents, and they would help me."
Kenny Prosper recalled that he and his 13 siblings had to pitch in and help in their home in Eskasoni. "We had a farm, chickens . . . a garden. Prayer was important, we always prayed, but it was in our language," he said. "They (his parents) were always encouraging all of us to get educated, to go to school and get somewhere ahead, because they didn't go to school."
Outside their communities, they faced discrimination and racism.
"What always helped me," said Rosie, "is that my mother would tell me stories, and she would say it just wasn't us. It's been happening, but we are resilient. No matter what, there are still good people out there. Don't judge people." Nevertheless racism was impactful. Rosie shared a story about moving to Ontario for a short while and choosing to pass as non-native.
All the guests spoke Mi'kmaw as a first language, and still speak it everyday. Kenny worked as a Native Hospital Liaison Interpreter for 25 years, helping L' nu'k navigate the healthcare system. He also works as a translator.
Rosie credits her mother for ensuring she learned Mi'kmaw. "I never realized how important our language was until later on, when I got older. I am so grateful that my mother was my strength. I give credit to her for all of that."
"My father hardly spoke English," said Tiny. "We are losing our language. As of 1993 I became a school teacher to help people to speak the language. When I went to school, I went to learn English, to write in English."
Although Kenny speaks the language with some friends in Halifax, is it not widely spoken. He notes there is a lack of spaces to speak Mi'kmaw. "Even the (Mi'kmaw) Friendship Centre – I don't think they have any staff that speak Mi'mkaw there now," he said.
Language loss, while a major issue, is only one of many the Mi'kmaq face. When asked what "enough" would look like, Rosie replied, "Oh my God, we’d have clean drinking water. We’d have sufficient housing. We’d have land."
"I live in We’koma’q,” said Tiny. “We put up around 60 houses for the past two years, all over. We’ve got 100 more, but we have no place to put them."
"There is not enough land base, that is a major thing," said Kenny.
Tiny spoke of the frustration of regulations for those who live on a Reserve, and gives an example of how long it took to build Mawita’mk, a home for Mi’kmaq with disabilities, where Rosie works. "The red tape in trying to put something that is provincial in federal ground and meet all those challenges, it took us 11 years . . . and we had the money to build the house," he said. "I want to see equality. I'm a little bit darker than any of you on here, so I am spotted more. And when you hear me speak, I don't have the best of English. But I speak my language when I am teaching. My ideas are from the L' nu side of my brain." .
What struck, moved or surprised you in what you heard?
I was saddened to hear that the first thing that Rosie listed of things that would make “gu leòr” was clean running water.
“Language connected to my spirit." What can we do to support Mi’kmaw language?
I am sitting with what Rosie said about how we cannot do reconciliation without the truth first.
I did not know the truth of the matter that there is not enough land for the homes ready to build
I was struck by the generosity of those that have experienced racism to still point out that there are good people and that there are many good friends, too.
I find it very interesting that we all talk about losing our languages as if we carelessly left it at the side of the road and it wasn't taken.
I believe that settlers absolutely need to hear more stories of our First Nations Peoples’ experiences. Positive and negative stories.
I feel moved to investigate what I can do to advocate for a more just sharing of land resources
Tiny spoke about the role of his god parents, his relatives, I was moved by his description of his community working together, however, such challenging work!
I believe strengthening cross-community relationships & dialogue is so important. Sharing stories and learning from one another face to face can be such a powerful thing. And I believe that this is what can help to support each other, as good neighbours.
I would like to know if it would be helpful or welcome for settlers to learn your language
First of all, I feel and believe strongly that the LANGUAGE must be kept alive. If a language dies, the culture dies. We need to all show RESPECT for our neighbouring brothers and sisters. Learn the TRUTH!!!!
Watch the recording
Links
In the 11-minute video Magit’s Doll, Elder Magit Poulette (Rosie's mother) shares a story with students about her experience at the Shubinacadie Residential School. When she arrived at age four her doll was taken from her and she never saw it again, so she created dolls from her cleaning rags. As an adult, Magit searched for a doll that reminded her of the one that was stolen from her. In the video, Magit teaches students at the We’koqom’a Mi’kmaw School in Waycobah in Unama’ki (Cape Breton) how to make rag dolls. See the video, produced by Ann Verrall of Shortworks: https://www.shortworksproductions.ca/project/magitsdoll-2/
Do You Speak My Language: We’koqma’q First Nation is a collaborative video project with Elders and students that explores the impact of school on Mi’kmaq language and culture. Tiny was involved in this video: https://www.shortworksproductions.ca/project/doyouspeakmylanguage-2-2/