Being First Nations In A White World

mediatype:

text

Preamble:

Court these days has involved extensive testimony of expert witnesses and the evidence being marked and documented in court. I think the hardest thing to listen to was the discovery of the body parts. Imagining it made me nauseous. I imagine a bullet hit the back of their head first, and I hope they were not tortured. As stated in court, they found a .22 caliber wound in the back of their skulls. It makes me question how someone could loathe a person so much, just because of how they looked or how they lived their life. As the saying goes, "Don't judge a book by its cover." So many of the missing women were First Nations. It makes it seem like a lot of people judge us as less valuable. But that's not true.

Body:

Throughout this trial, I've had fellow First Nations people come to me and share their feelings about prejudices toward Native people, and in particular, Native prostitutes. I didn't really pick up on the fact I was different when I was working the street. I got along with anyone who got along with me; I didn't worry about the color of people's skin. I befriended transsexuals. I was fairly opened-minded.

That's not saying being First Nations never troubled me throughout life. When I was a teenager, my girlfriend Sheri from school got a job in McDonald's. She tried to get me a job with her. However, she talked to her bosses and they told her that they weren't hiring me because I was an "Indian." They don't hire "them" because they can't be trusted. Little did they know, I lived in Upper Lonsdale, in a mid-high class neighbourhood with white people; she quit her job because she wouldn't work for people like that.

During school, I had to deal with all the kids who thought that I was supposed to be tough and know how to fight. They taught me to fight because I had to stand up for myself all the time.

When I attended the waiter/waitress course at Vancouver Community College, I had problems with the instructor because I was Native and female. Even when I lived in Chilliwack, where there are many First Nations reserves, I had trouble getting a job, because I was Native. People out there stereotyped me. So maybe this is one reason I ended up on the streets collecting welfare. I don't like to point fingers, but it's a big concern in the Native community, even today.

There are times when I have trouble getting business done. However, when I send my husband in to take care of the same thing, he succeeds because of the color of his skin. He's appalled at how I get treated compared to him. Things that make you go 'hmm'- It's not hard to see why so many Native people have trouble getting by in today's world.

When my husband saw the poster of the missing women he recognized a few of the girls that he had seen down by the Astoria Hotel. He also wondered how on earth they would get from Vancouver all the way out to the pig farm. He shook his head in disappointment that drugs, which he is dead against, played a big part in this horrific crime. "Shows how far people will go to get high," he said. But to zone in on girls who are so vulnerable is cowardly, and it's no coincidence that so many of them were First Nations prostitutes.

*****

It's hard sitting through court at times. It gets tedious listening to the nit picking of the witnesses. Today I heard evidence about eight pieces of chewed chewing gum as exhibits. That shows you why there are hundreds of exhibits filed. To have to listen to each and every one is mind boggling. Of course, the gum bore DNA, so it was part of the job.

Students attend the trial to witness history-in-the-making and see how the courtroom works. Mind you, some of the teacher's have been known to take a nap. This is fine, as long as they don't snore too loudly and don't get caught. I know I have had a hard time staying awake too. That's because I haven't been able to sleep properly since this began. So many things are going through my mind.

Members of the public have also been showing up, and there sure are some peculiar people. I guess they don't have anything else to do. Those who are lonely enjoy the conversations that go on while we're standing in line to get into court.

However, there was one lady hissing at everyone who talked. She wore at least eight earrings in each ear. We had to ignore her; there was something obviously wrong with her mentally. Others come because they've made it a part of their lifestyle. These are just a few of the interesting people we've met while attending the trial. It takes all kinds to make the world go 'round.

First Nations drummers used to sing for the missing women, but I haven't seen them for a while. I found it relaxing for the soul being able to listen to them beat their drums before we had to go into court for the day to hear the unspeakable particulars. I hope they return so we can hear the heartbeat of the Creator from their drums.

I wish everyone a most wonderful day. Take care and may the Creator walk with you.

Pullquote:

she talked to her bosses and they told her that they weren't hiring me because I was an "Indian." They don't hire 'them' because they can't be trusted.