“I was one of the first people here and I’ve been trying to join the discussion for a while and its hard….I do not have the experience that everyone else here has. I have not been as thoroughly trained as every one else has but…I know what its like to not be able to speak to wait for other’s to say what they have they say but it hurts to be sitting at a table where everyone is supposed to be able to speak…and to not be able to speak. I’m the youth at the table I’m one of the youngest people here. I’ve struggled with trying to speak because I feel that I do not have the wisdom or the strength to be able to say what I have to say…and honestly I know that there are other people out there who want to speak from their heart, from their soul, but its hard because you want your elders, people who have experienced more, to speak. So you your either silent or you stumble through your words, and its just its harder than I thought…I’ve struggled a lot just to get ‘here’ and I don’t even know where ‘here’ is.

In the past year I’ve given up my home, my family so I can be here and it was a fluke that I got to join this discussion and to be with the incredible people who have fought for our right to be here and to learn from our elders and all our teachers and mentors.  And it’s a gift that we’ve been able to stand here, but it comes with a difficulty it seems, because you don’t know how to contribute to the discussion that others have been in for years. It’s a divide between those who are joining, and those who have been here, and I can’t imagine what its like for them, because they’ve been waiting years to speak. I’ve just joined but I’ve been trying to speak since the beginning.”

Jesse Wabegijik The Study Student Participant

Jessie’s admission was a personally meaningful moment for me during the course of The Study/The Repast. There were many witnesses to his 90-minute struggle to find an opening for his voice at the table. And it was most poignant to watch respected Elder among artists and one of our ‘grandmothers’ Margo Kane take the honourable step of addressing it:

“There are a number of people who sit at this table and there is no space for them to speak. So I am concerned about that, and I would really like to hear from the people that have been here for a while, and ensure that we leave room for them to speak as well”.

This moment has stuck with me since. It is a metaphor of the reality of Indigenous peoples in Canada. We have been here since the beginning, constantly trying to find our seat at the table, yearning to have our voices heard because we have something to say.

During The Study the U.N released its report on Canada’s treatment of Aboriginal people highlighting the ‘crisis’ for our basic human rights. When I shared the news of the report with the participants, nobody seemed overtly surprised by the results: distressing socio-economic conditions, inadequate funding, over representation of Indigenous peoples in prisons, high rates of violence, missing and murdered women, exclusion of Indigenous peoples from effective participation in decisions that affect their lives. After all – we had just spent the week reading plays and discussing these very issues. Art reflects life, reflects art.

The day the study ended here on Manitoulin Island, an incident took place that reminded me of the reality of the ‘crisis’ in our communities and why the work we do is important. On Sunday, community members were lounging around outside the Holy Cross Mission Church, waiting for the Bishop to arrive to perform the Sacrament of Confirmation. In the murmur of the crowd, people were casually discussing a murder/homicide that took place Saturday night in the community. In an instant, we lost 4 young community members, the young man who lost his life and the three who will probably spend the rest of their lives in jail.

There is just something about all these juxtapositions that is twisting in my mind and heart and soul. On one hand, we have this historic gathering that I was still coming down from, and on the other hand, the horrific reminder of the truth of our reality that I may never get up from – mixed in with the ceremonial activities of the of the day and the arrival of the Bishop.

At the Summit, we are filled with inspiration as artists, creators, writers and educators, who have an enormous responsibility to move forward with as much in our bundle that was left for us that we can – and share it among our children and youth. Our strengths are regained, re-imagined, relived – by telling and hearing our stories. They tell us of our epic struggles overcome by unconditional love, our courage to overcome in the face of impossible odds; our respect for everything that lives, watches over us and dwells below us and our role, living precariously in between the two. We have been telling our stories since time immemorial.

As Canadians, it is no longer enough to explore and critique the art and expression of Indigenous people, while remaining ignorant of the multi-generational and systemic complicity in their life outcomes. We are at the dawn of a new frontier in our relationship and one that is filled with possibility. If we have the courage to use it wisely, we can change the path we have been on.

At Debajehmujig-Storytellers, we are dedicated to improving the quality of life for the Indigenous people of this land through the preservation and the telling of our stories. We are guided by our traditional teachings, which tell us that we are born with a purpose and a mission. We are uniquely gifted to be able to fulfill our purpose and we must each understand our relationship to the teachings, so that we become the best ancestors that we possibly can for “The Preservation of Humanity”. Every one of us needs to contribute in our own way.

The stories that come from this land must be told by the people of this land if we are to truly understand one another. As Indigenous people, we bring awareness to all Canadians – that there is and always has been, another way to experience and view the world. A worldview that has emerged out of our relationship to this land, to these animals, under these stars. We need places where Indigeneity can thrive in its most organic forms, free of settler narratives and directly connected to its foundations in our cultural history and in our geography.

From this foundation of clarity, a truly equitable sharing with other Canadians will offer each of us the opportunity to up-level our vision to include the richness of the other.

My name is Cole Alvis and I am proud of my Métis heritage from the Turtle Mountains in Manitobah. As the Executive Director of the national arts service organization Indigenous Performing Arts Alliance (IPAA), it was exciting to be invited into a process led by Associate Artistic Director Sarah Garton Stanley of the National Arts Centre (NAC) English Theatre. For two years Sarah and Past-IPAA Board President Yvette Nolan were co-curators of the The Cycle, an NAC initiative that has shined its spotlight on performance Indigenous to this land. IPAA’s collaboration began leading up to The Summit in Banff (April 2014) culminating in The Study / Repast (May 2015).

Although many are hearing about us for the first time, IPAA celebrated ten years as a federally incorporated not-for-profit on March 16^th, 2015. Our organizational ancestry extends far beyond this present form. Community held ad hoc gatherings began as early as 1990 with the event Telling Our Own Story: Appropriation and Indigenous Performing Artists. The urgency to tell our story remains, and it is essential as we navigate another wave of non-Native allies eager to collaborate with Indigenous artists and stories inspired by the Canada Council for the Arts’ new project grant {Re}conciliation.

One such ally is the NAC. Former Artistic Director Peter Hinton recognized the importance of this bond and sought to include an Indigenous play in every season. This iteration of collaboration between the NAC and IPAA began with Sarah and Yvette strategizing how to usurp the hierarchy present in national partnerships by creating a unique structure for our initial gathering at The Summit where the Indigenous artists were the Leaders and the non-Native artistic directors were the Listeners. This intimate approach in Banff became broader in scope at The Study / Repast. Over forty Indigenous performing artists came through the Debajehmujig Creation Centre between May 5^th and 16^th and in the final days of The Repast artistic leaders joined us from coast to coast to coast.

The Study / Repast was an opportunity to dig deeper into the roots of Indigenous theatre in Canada by bringing Indigenous theatre students and recent graduates together with a professional acting company and other seasoned Indigenous performing artists, including Monique Mojica, Daniel David Moses, and Muriel Miguel. These artists were often present during the creation and production processes of the work we were exploring, and so could offer insight into the rumblings of Indigenous theatre.

Leading up to The Repast we read plays. Sometimes more than five a day! Starting with Tomson Highway, we headed out of Wikwemikong Unceded Reserve on Highway 69 for a big game of bingo (The Rez Sisters), and then onto more recent Indigenous performance presently touring across Turtle Island.

We explored these works together at Debajehmujig Storyteller’s Creation Centre and The Ruins. Artistic Director Joe Osawabine welcomed us to Odawa territory and made us feel at home. He provided teachings, ensured that we were well fed, and accompanied us on a hike to Dreamer’s Rock. Joe was in his element. Throughout our time at the Creation Centre, Joe was also supporting local filmmaker Matthew Manitowabi as he helped us document The Study / Repast, ensuring that those who could not join us physically on Manitoulin Island could still experience the work and the conversation through video. Joe and Matthew are now editing the incredible footage and artist interviews in the editing suite at the Debajehmujig Creation Centre – stay tuned to www.ipaa.ca for our videos!

The first day of the Repast was called the Day of Listening and saw the structure from the Summit be expanded into a conversation for four Indigenous leaders in front of a live audience and also streamed live on the internet. Four chairs were placed in the centre of the performance space facing inwards, allowing the participants to focus on one other. These conversations alternated between bursts of performance throughout the day and evolved without facilitation. The final day was the Day of Speaking and we employed a conversational structure created by the co-founder of Spiderwoman Theatre, a non-Native woman named Lois Weaver. Our community is more accustomed to circles and it was fascinating to see us take care of each other while respecting the etiquette within this structure.

Justin Many Fingers and Waawaate Fobister expressed the missed opportunity to include the work and stories of 2-Spirited people during The Study / Repast. (You can see Waawaate introducing this topic on the Day 3 web stream at 1 hour, 4 minutes and 30 secs.) Their ability to speak generously about this exclusion reminded me we all have blind spots that require our diligence and care.

Another systemic barrier is the disconnect between rural and urban Indigenous communities. Student Acting Company member Jesse Wabegijig beautifully addressed this divide with his extended presence at the Long Table. He was among the first to sit down at the beginning and found it challenging to navigate his place within the prescribed etiquette. You can hear him speak of that experience shortly after Margo Kane prompts him to share in the Day 3 web stream at 2 hours, 11 minutes and 5 seconds. The image of him with his head in his hands stays with me highlighting the huge responsibility I have when I speak as the leader of the Indigenous Performing Arts Alliance. It is a privilege to be able to address national funders, touring bodies and other groups of people on behalf of our membership and Jesse’s words of listening to Elders and community combined with his perseverance to express himself is an inspiration.

Joe Osawabine presented IPAA with a bundle containing people’s personal commitments and contributions to the future, past and present of the Indigenous Body of Work. We are proud to be the keeper of these commitments and this bundle.

In my closing speech I made a commitment to think critically about who is not at the table. I would like to further that pledge by addressing the systemic barriers that make it difficult for members of our community like Jesse Wabegijig to participate in the conversation.

Thanks! / Marsi for listening!

Cole Alvis
Executive Director
Indigenous Performing Arts Alliance www.ipaa.ca

Three years ago I took the helm of the English Theatre at the NAC. To say it’s been a steep learning curve is a laughable understatement. The learning is not just about how to run a large company or about the depth and breadth of theatre in Canada. It is about learning what the Canadian Story is, and how we are choosing to tell it.

I inherited the job from Peter Hinton. Peter did a huge job to ensure a presence on that national stage of Indigenous artists. Back then, I told Peter I was committed to continuing what he had started and ensuring that there was always an Indigenous presence in the programming. It seemed like a righteous thing to do – First Nations artists have seen oppression, they have seen racism, they get pigeonholed, and it is generally recognized that it’s hard for any persons who are not considered Caucasian to get roles in classical works. I could see all that. I was going to follow Peter’s path and help by offering opportunities to Indigenous artists.

It wasn’t a problem to do it practically. Many Indigenous artists are at the top of their craft and I would have asked them into the ensemble, or put shows like huff in the season, whether I had made that commitment or not. But that doesn’t mean I knew what I was talking about. My desire to make that commitment was steeped in being correct. Not steeped in an understanding of WHY we needed to do it. My understanding of Canada was not clear enough to know that I wasn’t doing a righteous thing to have Indigenous work in the season, but an absolutely essential thing.

The first thing I said to Sarah Stanley who joined me as Associate Artistic Director at the NAC was that I felt absolutely unqualified to carry through on that torch-relay from Peter. I knew nothing really about Indigenous storytelling. I knew about some good actors, but I only knew about three playwrights who were telling Indigenous stories. I asked Sarah to put together an intensive study of the canon of First Nations, Inuit and Metis work in Canada. We would celebrate the work and other artistic directors could come and we would all learn from it and extend that righteous programming across the country. If my learning curve coming to the NAC was a steep, attending The Study of the body of Indigenous work in Canada for two weeks on Manitoulin Island was a full 90 degrees.

I learned and learned and learned and learned and changed. I am actually changed by it. I can’t say that very often but I’m sitting here weeping while I’m writing these words, so it must be true. I only cry when I am being changed these days, just like a dunch arsed youngster.

I heard play after play about the current outrage of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls, play after play about residential schools, play after play about abducted Indigenous children who were taken from their families and put in foster care. Parents who have a hard time parenting because they themselves were stolen and never learned parenting. It hurt my soul to hear it. Shameful things have happened in our country. Harper himself read the apology for it. We cannot deny that it happened. And yet, I looked on the CBC website while I was there and there were two more Indigenous young women missing and the results of the inquest about the death of a First Nations teen who had been in care of the government.

The comments section were full of people saying that it’s a “Native problem;” that “alcoholism is something to fix in their own society;” and the most hurtful of all, “another proof that the Natives don’t love their children.” The next day I came back to the play readings and heard story after story of decades and decades of government workers, priests and nuns taking children. Institutions abducting them, beating them, sexually abusing them. Taking their language, culture and religion. Desperate parents chasing a car full of their own kids down barren roadways.

I had heard this history, but until I heard the stories and was moved by those stories, I did not know the history.

I’ve never had the power to physically punch out. I dropped out of debating club because I got called Olive Oyl at a tournament. I wish I was a fighter but I’m not. But we, you and I in the theatre, in TV and in film – WE have the power to teach. We have the power to reach people.

These are not all sad plays. The darker ones resonate with resilience more than tragedy. Most of them are funny. Some of them are really really funny. I had a long talk with a playwright I admire who insisted that none of his plays dealt with that dark history, that his were comedies celebrating First Nations humour. And he’s right. They are funny. But reflecting on his work, he can’t avoid the circumstance of what his characters have seen. Their history. Our history.

I blindly accepted Peter Hinton’s lead in programming Indigenous work because I believed it was righteous. But if I am going to tell Canada’s story through the theatre, this is the longest, most dramatic episode in our history. And we are still in it. I’m not doing anyone a favour by telling it. I have been granted the privilege to know about a community of artists who can bring that incredible, important story of our history and aspect of our society to our audiences. And our audiences need to hear that story, not just the history but the stories, so that together, we can move forward.

After recognizing that artistic directors often say that they would like to program Indigenous work but don’t know how or don’t know what the plays are, the Indigenous Performing Arts Alliance (IPAA) created a list of close to 400 plays by Indigenous writers. There is also a new First Nations Talent Bank for those wishing to engage an actor who can bring an Indigenous perspective to the work you are doing. The SpiderWebMap in tandem with theatrewiki.ca encourages Indigenous artists to locate themselves and their stories on the map. In fact I encourage all theatre makers to locate themselves there.

Indigenous artists are not so small in number and together we have the power to bring a fuller story of Canada to our stages.

Thanks

Jill