Lii Mimwayr di Faamii (Family Memories) by SKHistory

Lii Mimwayr Di Faamii ( Family Memories)

A Special Edition of

F olklore

S A S K AT C H E WA N ’ S Y E S T E R D AY S P E R S O N I F I E D

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Gabriel Dumont Local #11 Project Committee Cheryl Troupe, Wilfred Burton, Susan Shacter, Donna Heimbecker

Saskatchewan History & Folklore Society Honorary Patron His Honour the Honourable Russell Mirasty Lieutenant Governor of Saskatchewan Board of Directors Stephanie Danyluk, Jessica DeWitt, Joey Donnelly, Amanda Fehr, Frank Garritty, Hugh Henry, Florence Hwang, Cheryl Troupe, Courtney Tuck-Goetz

Lii Mimwayr Di Faamii ( Family Memories) is a Special Edition of Folklore Magazine. Folklore is published quarterly by the Saskatchewan History & Folklore Society with funding assistance provided by Saskatchewan Lotteries. Graphic Design/Layout Kristin Enns-Kavanagh Transcription Megan Zong Cover Photo Nora Cumming’s mother’s family; taken in the Road Allowance community on Lansdowne Avenue. Back Row L-R: Norman Trotchie, Irvin Trotchie Middle Row: Clarence Trotchie, Violet (Trotchie) Livingstone, Alex Trotchie Front Row: Louise (Trotchie) Belcourt, Justine (Landrie) Trotchie (Nora’s Grandmother), Irene (Trotchie) Dimick (Nora’s Mother). Copyright (c. 2021), the authors. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the publisher. The Saskatchewan History & Folklore Society assumes no responsibility for statements made by the authors. Canadian Publications Mail Product Sales Agreement 40016709, Postage Paid in Regina Mailing Address Folklore Magazine 243 Robin Crescent Saskatoon, SK S7L 6M8 Tel: (306) 975-0826 or 1-800-919-9437 e-mail: info@shfs.ca website: www.shfs.ca ISSN 0824-3085

We acknowledge that in Saskatchewan, we are always on Indigenous land. The SHFS operates in the Homeland of the Métis and the traditional territories of the Nêhiyawak, Saulteaux, Dakota, Nakota, Lakota, and Dene. We respect and honour the relationships of this land, including our Treaty relationships. Our work reaches lands covered by Treaties 2, 4, 5, 6, 8, & 10. We recognize that we have accountabilities to maintain in this place, particularly in teaching, promoting, maintaining, and perpetuating history.

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Contents

Lii Mimwayr Di Faamii, Family Memories Cheryl Troupe & Wilfred Burton

A Special Edition of Folklore Magazine Saskatchewan History & Folklore Society

Growing Up on Saskatoon’s Road Allowance Nora Cummings

Rosalie Lepine and Her Miraculous Cure Wilfred Burton

My Special Métis Grandparents Ashley Shaw

Grandma’s Little Helper Angie Caron

Looking Through My Old Photos Faye Maurice

My Mentor, Mon Onc Scott Duffee

My Complicated Relationship With My Skin Marilyn Black

27 Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Lii Mimwayr Di Faamii, Family Memories Cheryl Troupe and Wilfred Burton, Gabriel Dumont Local 11 Lii Mimwayr Di Faamii, Family Memories, is a compilation of stories from members of Gabriel Dumont Local 11, a Métis Local in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. They began as oral stories, presented over Zoom during the pandemic; then were transcribed, revised, and edited for this publication. Everyone has memories from their life; something personal from childhood, a memorable experience, perhaps even a life changing event. The personal stories in this compilation fall into this category. Some of the stories have significant historical value, as Nora Cummings relates in “Growing Up on Saskatoon’s Road Allowance.” Some stories like “Rosalie Lepine and Her Miraculous Cure” by Wilfred Burton have been passed down from generation to generation. Stories such as these show the importance of passing on family memories to the next generation.

people in one’s life. Faye Maurice recounts memories of her father in “Looking Through My Old Photos.” She learned many valuable lessons from him. The last two stories “My Mentor, Mon Onc” by Scott Duffee and “My Complicated Relationship With My Skin” by Marilyn Black are more recent personal memories of how one is shaped by significant events in their life. Both sought answers to their questions about personal identity. In Métis culture, storytelling is very important in validating experiences and in nurturing relationships through shared knowledge. Perhaps through these stories others can connect and resonate with their own life. It gives one a sense of “you are not alone in this world.”

Grandparents play an important part in one’s memories. In “My Special Métis Grandparents,” Ashley Shaw shows the importance of grandparents shaping your cultural identity. Angie Caron’s “Grandma’s Little Helper” brings the same sentiment. Her grandmother was very influential in shaping Angie’s sense of Michif identity. Grandparents are not the only influential

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

After reading these stories the reader may be more knowledgeable about some historical Métis events such as the displacement of Métis on Road Allowances, the 60s Scoop, or the role of devout faith in the culture. They show the resiliency of the Métis throughout history. One may learn about

the importance of grandparents; what they teach you and the role they play in the Métis family structure. These stories will entertain and perhaps give you a giggle, or induce a tear. All of these memories are a way of sharing what has been witnessed and learned.

A Special Edition of Folklore Magazine Kristin Enns-Kavanagh, Executive Director, Saskatchewan History & Folklore Society The Saskatchewan History & Folklore Society (SHFS) is delighted and honoured to share this special edition of Folklore Magazine. This edition features stories from members of Gabriel Dumont Local 11 in Saskatoon. We are tremendously grateful to the members of Gabriel Dumont Local 11 for sharing their stories, memories, and photos. Likewise, we are thankful for the substantial time and energy that the storytellers and the Gabriel Dumont Local 11 Council members Folklore / Special Edition 2021

devoted to editing the transcripts and preparing the images for publication. The SHFS is a provincial heritage non-profit that delivers programs to enable, inspire and celebrate heritage in Saskatchewan’s diverse communities. For over 40 years, we have published Folklore Magazine, a unique Saskatchewan venue to share personal, local, and community history. Our sincere hope is that these stories will inspire all who read them to create more records of their own stories and pass them on to the next generation.

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Growing Up on Saskatoon’s Road Allowance lived on the Road Allowance. Our families never had that same kind of closeness as It’s quite an honour for me to tell my story when we lived all kind of mushed together as a Road Allowance Métis. I was born in on the Road Allowance. Saskatoon on January 1, 1938 and we lived close to where Aden Bowman Collegiate now stands. At the time, that land was owned by the City of Saskatoon but it was considered the outskirts of the city. Métis families were the only ones that lived there. We didn’t own the land. It was a Road Allowance community.

Nora Cummings

There were over thirty-five Métis families living there. Their names were Trotchie, Ouellette, Landry, Vandale, Fayant, Letendre, and others. Some Métis women married non-Métis, so families by the name of Camponi and Birmingham were also part of our community. These were all Métis families that had moved from the Round Prairie Settlement south of Saskatoon. Our family lived on the Road Allowance until 1953 when we were forced out and had to move into the developed area of the city. It was quite a shock for most of us because that was our community and that was where we all lived. It was the community we knew, with our mooshums and kookums, aunties, uncles, cousins, and our Old People. When the families moved into the city, they had to adapt and find places to live. It was a sad time because in the city they lived more spread out from one another than when we Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Above: Phyllis (Trotchie) Vance, Violet (Trotchie) Livingstone, unidentified, unidentified, Fred Wells in front of Three Sisters (the three houses in the background) on York Avenue in Saskatoon, ca. 1950s. Opposite page: Nora Cumming’s mother’s family taken at a cousin’s funeral in the Road Allowance community near Lansdowne Avenue, near where Aden Bowman Collegiate now stands. Back Row L-R: Norman Trotchie, Irvin Trotchie Middle Row: Clarence Trotchie, Violet (Trotchie) Livingstone, Alex Trotchie Front Row: Louise (Trotchie) Belcourt, Justine (Landrie) Trotchie (Nora’s Grandmother), Irene (Trotchie) Dimick (Nora’s Mother). 7

On the Road Allowance we lived in a little shack down by First Street not far from the intersection on Taylor and Clarence Avenue. Clarence Avenue was the old highway then. There were five of us that lived in that little house. My mother’s name was Irene Trotchie and my dad was Jerome Ouellette, but he was called Jerry. We used to hunt deer and snare rabbits. We picked our berries. We used to harvest all that stuff and do things for ourselves. We had a community garden where Aden Bowman Collegiate now stands and everybody would plant vegetables and potatoes. Top left: Road Allowance shack, 1951. Nora lived in this tent and little house on First Street East in Saskatoon (about 900 block). Left: Nora and her sister Phyllis, taken at the Road Allowance community, Lansdowne Avenue area. Bottom: Nora’s parents – Jerry Ouellette and Irene (Trotchie) Dimick, taken on Avenue G South in Saskatoon.

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

We all took turns cleaning the gardens and looking after it. In the fall we’d all harvest. We had little dug out cellars under our shacks where we’d put our vegetables so they would stay fresh. I remember that everyone worked really hard. I worked with my dad. I drove my own team of horses. I was always proud of my horses because I was able to drive them by myself and help my dad. I was the second oldest. My older sister wasn’t interested in working with my dad and my brother was too young. In the summer we would go out and work for farmers around what is now the Sutherland neighbourhood. We would all pitch our tents and live there for the season. My dad and I cut and stacked hay for the farmers. My uncles all picked stones and cleared farmers’ fields. After a while I had to stop working with my dad because my grandmother wasn’t well and it became my role to look after her. My mother also worked. She cleaned the homes of doctors, lawyers, and others that lived on Saskatchewan Crescent. I remember her coming home so tired, but she never ever gave up. She never quit working because her income was important for us. She had a little bike and I remember her being the best little bike rider in Saskatoon. She could handle that bike really well. That’s how she got to work. Top: Clarence Trotchie. Right: Nora’s mother Irene (Trotchie) Dimick at 915 – 2nd Street East, Saskatoon, 1952. Folklore / Special Edition 2021

I had three cousins that were similar to me in age. We were the older ones. We all had to work. We used to go out and get water from the slough and haul water into the house to make sure we had enough for washing clothes. Sometimes in the winter, we had to bring in the snow and melt it for laundry. That was our job. My role was to look after the Old People and help take care of the young babies and my young cousins.

We never really felt that it was hard work, it just came natural to us because that’s the teachings we had and everybody had work to do. At the time, I didn’t think it was a hard life because I was young. You don’t think that way when you’re young, but when I sit back and I think today, I remember how hard everyone worked to survive. I also remember going on picnics when I was young. They used to hook up our wagons on a Sunday and the women would make a great big lunch. We’d all get together. We’d go past Moose Wood Reserve. It’s called Whitecap now. We’d go and picnic out there by Round Prairie. We played baseball and horseshoes and we had big sacks or bags to hop in. We had all kinds of activities. Sometimes I think about those days living on the Road Allowance and how those picnics were a way for us to get away from all the stuff that was happening in our lives. They were a time to get together, visit and have some fun and be with all our relatives.

Top: Clarence Trotchie, holding Gary Vance (Nora’s sister Phyllis’ baby) and Nora Ouellete on 2nd Street (900 block), 1952 or 53. Above: Nora and her brother and sister. Nora in front, Phyllis in back, Chick (named Lloyd) on 2nd Street, 1950s.

As I got older I lived with my Kookum. She had her own little house. She had cupboards made out of apple boxes. That was our mansion, and we enjoyed it. Most families lived in similar shacks, and in the summer, some of our people moved into tents. Kookum brought me up, so I was the fortunate one that had lots of good teachings. She was seventy-five when she passed away. I lived with her and looked after her and never regretted it because she was my Folklore / Special Edition 2021

mentor and my teacher. She taught me my culture, my language, my understanding of what life was about. We learned from the Old People. They were our teachers. I always wondered how she managed. She had lots of children. Eight that lived. I chopped wood for my Kookum. That’s how we heated our shacks in the winter. It was a lot of work to chop wood. Most of my cousins and my uncles would all take turns and we’d stack it all up for her for the winter. My Kookum would pick up the little chips because she used to think they were good to start the fire. I remember one time when I took a photo of my Kookum with my auntie’s old box camera. My Kookum got so mad at me for taking that picture. I remember her giving me heck because of it. But I always liked that picture because I thought she looked so cute sitting out there trying to collect all those little wood chips. My Kookum spoke in very broken English. If she went somewhere where there were people she would talk to me and I’d have to translate for her because she felt that people would laugh at her. It took a long time but we got her to feel comfortable and not ashamed to speak when we would go out. One time when we lived out in the bush, I had to clean the house for my Kookum and used to haul everything out of our shack so that I could scrub and clean the floors. My Kookum was sitting outside in a big chair surrounded by all our stuff, and all of sudden she called, “Ashtum ota!” (Come here right away). Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Top: Justine (Landrie) Trotchie – Nora’s grandmother. Location: on the Road Allowance – taken the same time as the first photo in this article. Above: Nora’s grandmother Justine (Landrie) Trotchie picking up kindling. Taken on the Road Allowance, 2nd Street, 1950.

Right: Nora Ouellette and her Grandma Justine Trotchie on 21st Street, Saskatoon, 1953.

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

I went outside and here my friends had come to visit. I had big curlers in my hair, and was dirty from scrubbing floors. Everything from our house was sitting outside. I never forgot that because I thought it was so funny. I was proud of where we lived because that’s who we were, but when I think back I wonder what they thought. They never ever said anything but it was kind of funny. When my Kookum first moved into the city from the Round Prairie Settlement she lived in a house at 1510 Broadway Avenue with all her seven children. My grandpa left and went and lived with another woman on the west side of town. Some of the families from

Round Prairie had also moved to the west side of the city. At that time they used to have relief agents that would come around and give out tokens for food. If others came to visit and the relief agents found out, your relief would get cut off. That really bothered most of our people. That’s why some of our families moved to the Road Allowance. I went to Day School. It was called St. Joseph’s School at that time. All the Métis kids went there. We didn’t have much schooling. I quit at an early age because of the abuse we went through at the school. I got married and had my own children. So that’s my story.

Detail of finger-woven sash by Scott Duffee, featured in My Mentor, Mon Onc (page 34).

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Rosalie Lepine with her husband Charles Nolin.

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Rosalie Lepine and Her Miraculous Cure Wilfred Burton This is a story about my great grandmother Rosalie Lepine and her Miraculous Cure. Thanks to my mother for telling us these stories or this story would not live on in my family. My mother, Georgina Nolin, was not well. She had tuberculosis when she was young and she had health issues through most of her life. Often, she’d lay on her bed and we’d lay beside her and she’d tell us stories. This is a story that I remember from my childhood, often told as we lay relaxing on the bed. My version is not exactly the way my mother told the story because she passed away quite a long time ago when I was much younger. I remember some of the details as was told by her, but I’ve also spoken to other people who added additional details to this story. I’ve done some archival research as well and I’ve visited Our Lady of Lourdes Shrine in St. Laurent, Saskatchewan many times and taken in the documented history there.

Georgina Nolin, mother of Wilfred Burton and granddaughter of Rosalie Lepine and Charles Nolin; daughter of Gabriel Nolin and Eliza Delorme.

when they were widowed because he had many children to care for. He knew Rosalie Rosalie Lepine was first married to Godfrey was a widow with one child. He married her Lagimodiere. She had one son, John and adopted her child. Baptiste Lagimodiere. Her husband passed away and so she became a widow. My Charles and his new wife proceeded to great-grandfather, Charles Nolin, was also move west from Red River. They spent a a widower. His first wife, who was a first couple winters in the File Hills and then they cousin to Louis Riel, died suddenly after the moved to St. Laurent de Grandin which is birth of their last child. He was a widower just across the river from Batoche and not with many children. At that time, men too far from Duck Lake. looked for another wife as soon as possible Folklore / Special Edition 2021

While in the File Hills a couple of their beloved wife to Battleford to another doctor. children were born. When they arrived at Can you imagine the ride from St. Laurent St. Laurent, life settled down a bit. to Battleford? It was probably on the Carlton trail. Charles was desperate when However, the Métis soon became aware of he presented her to the doctor in Battleford. the government’s actions to survey their The doctor could not help. She was sent land contrary to their wishes. Charles and home again. When they got back to St. other Métis leaders called upon Louis Riel to Laurent, Charles didn’t know what to do. return to Canada from the U.S.A. Charles and Rosalie were devout Catholics Charles’ life had been totally interwoven and were very close to the Church. Brother with Louis Riel in the 1869-70 Red River Piquet was called to the Nolin home to Resistance so it made sense to ask Louis for administer the last rights to Rosalie. Charles help with what was happening at Batoche. really wanted Brother Piquet to not just give the last rights, he wanted him to pray to Louis Riel stayed at Charles' and Rosalie's house in St. Laurent when he returned in 1885, just prior to The Resistance, until they had a disagreement. Rosalie became increasingly ill when the Nolins moved from the Red River to St. Laurent area. She had blurred vision, chest pains, insomnia, head pain, hemorrhaging and was spitting blood. She had these ailments for quite a number of years but she continued to have children. My grandfather Gabriel was one of those children. Over time she got sicker and sicker and Charles tried very hard to find somebody that could help her. Local medicines didn’t work and so he decided to take her to Prince Albert to see a doctor. The doctor couldn’t help her there, so Charles took her back home. There was nothing they could do for her. Charles didn’t give up, so he took his 16

Gabriel Nolin and Eliza Delorme, shortly after being married. Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Jesus and the Virgin Mary to save his wife with a special novena. Charles had read that holy water from Lourdes, France could heal people. Perhaps it could heal his wife. This was his last desperate attempt at saving her. He promised Brother Piquet that if she was cured, he would erect a statue of Our Lady of Lourdes at St. Laurent. Brother Piquet began the novena and procured some holy water. According to Catholic doctrine it’s important for innocent hands to lay the holy water on the ailing body. Who is better to place the water over the body than innocent children? Rosalie and Charles had two young, innocent

Lady of Lourdes.

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

children. The two boys took the holy water and applied it to their mother’s body. One of those little boys was my grandfather, Gabriel Nolin. From that moment on she slowly got better. This was absolutely amazing. If you ever go to St. Laurent, you will see the Blessed Virgin, purchased at great expense by Charles in Rosalie’s honour. As you walk down to the big grotto there is a black iron fence surrounding a statue of the Blessed Virgin. It is a special place and many still pray the rosary to the Virgin Mary and honour her with gifts of rosaries and flowers at that spot.

The statue donated by Charles Nolin in honour of his wife’s miraculous cure.

That’s the story of how Rosalie Lepine my great grandmother, the daughter of Jean overcame a debilitating illness. She was the Baptiste Lepine and Isabelle Parenteau, first miracle that happened on that beautiful the niece of Maxime and Ambroise Dydime land and since then there’s been others.

Lepine. After this health crisis she lived a long and healthy life bearing more children.

To this day, pilgrimages are held at St. She lived to a ripe old age. She’s buried at Laurent. It has become a holy place of Onion Lake. worship for many, especially many Métis and First Nations who know this story.

Rosalie lives on in story and in her many descendants scattered across Canada and

So this story is in honour of Rosalie Lepine, maybe the world. She is truly a miracle.

Wilfred Burton, great grandson of Rosalie Lepine, 1965.

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Gabriel Nolin, grandfather of Wilfred Burton, and his wife Eliza Delorme. Folklore / Special Edition 2021

My Special Métis Grandparents Ashley Shaw St. Laurent has always held a special place in my heart. It is where my grandparents, Lucien Gagnon and Mary Smith, were married on a cold day in November, 1950. My story is about the family they created together and the importance of celebration. Lou and Mary were married in the log church at St. Laurent on the South Saskatchewan River and started their family in Duck Lake.

My grandpa, Lucien Gagnon, was born to Adjutor Gagnon and Marie Pelletier on March 27, 1927. He spent most of his career working at a lumber mill. Besides providing for his family, he knew how to have fun. Lou was the center of every family gathering. His humor was quick witted with a contagious laugh and a joke for every occasion. His humor made him the best storyteller in the family. He was animated, lighthearted, and compassionate.

My grandmother, Mary Smith was born In 1955, they and their children left Duck to Theophile Smith and Lilian Nicholas on Lake by train so my grandfather could July 27, 1932 on the family farm at Horse look for work in British Columbia. They Lake. My grandmother worked very hard to moved around British Columbia living in provide for her eight children. Chase, Wells, and Quesnel while raising their children. My father, Elwin, was born in I will always cherish her canned peaches and Kamloops and spent most of his upbringing a freezer full of Christmas baking whenever in Quesnel. My grandparents stayed in we visited. She also liked to have fun and British Columbia but my father is the only organized a bingo for every family event. child from their family of eight to move back to Saskatchewan. As a young adult, My fondest memory spent with my grandparents was celebrating their 50th he started his family in Prince Albert. Wedding Anniversary. Relatives from Most of my grandparents' siblings stayed Saskatchewan made the trip to Quesnel around Duck Lake and Prince Albert. They including my great-grandmother, Lillian have been a constant in my life. Having a Smith. It was one of the very rare occasions relationship with my great aunts and uncles, that all of our family was together. along with too many cousins to count, I was given an opportunity that my first cousins didn’t have. It is a blessing that I have been able to connect to our extended family throughout my life.

Back (left to right): Ovila Smith, Lucien Gagnon, Mary Gagnon (née Smith), Maurice Beaulieu. Sitting (left to right): Lucille Paulhus (née Gagnon), Marie Markowski (née Smith).

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

we were able to celebrate together was at the Back to Batoche Festival quite a few years ago. We hosted a fish fry for our family, guests, and relatives. It was also the last time I felt the same emotions and connections to family since I was at their 50th Wedding Anniversary. As our family expands, it is more important than ever to reconnect. My grandpa had a great love for fires and always had a fire barrel going in the Mary Gagnon (nee Smith), Lucien Gagnon. yard. There have been instances over the years of his fire getting him into trouble by We camped on their acreage outside accidentally burning some precious items. Quesnel for the celebration. Their place My grandma always told us to clean up after was filled with activity. We had big dinners, ourselves or it would end up in grandpa’s campfires, and told stories.We played bocce fire barrel and she was right. ball, horseshoes, crib, and, of course, bingo. Our family celebrations involved dancing, music, and storytelling. The memories from this time are vivid. The campers were spread out across the yard, the bocce ball tournament on the lawn, and a makeshift bingo hall in the garage. Bingo was a significant part of our family gatherings. I can recall a visit during Christmas when my grandma brought home the Nevada ticket tower from the bingo hall. It was so exciting for us kids to be able to buy and pick tickets on Christmas Eve. We got a big stack of Nevadas from the tower to open on our own. It was really important to my grandparents to have family around. It seems our family celebrations are impossible today. My grandparents have both passed; families have grown and moved to different places, putting distance between us. The last time 22

For now, I will continue to visit sites such as St. Laurent to keep connected to my family roots and reflect on the memories shared.When my grandparents passed, my aunt gave me their marriage license from the St. Laurent Shrine. It is one of my most adored artifacts. She also gifted me with my grandmother’s wedding band in a little ring box which was purchased from Eaton’s Department Store. If you look closely, the bottom of the box is broken and it doesn’t sit flat anymore. As the story goes, they once got into a disagreement and my grandma threw it at him, hitting the wall and breaking the ring box. It is definitely a treasure for me and a testament to the commitment of marriage. My grandparents were married for over 60 years before they passed. I know they didn’t have an easy life, but they were there for each other through hard times and good. They also loved their grandchildren. We felt their love every day. Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Grandma’s Little Helper Angie Caron My family memories are filled with stories of my Michif grandmother. Her name is Flora Marie Trottier. She married my grandpa Joe Caron. Her parents were Jean Baptiste Trottier and Melanie Lemire and my grandma was born at Round Prairie.

Round Prairie in the early 1900s and that’s where my grandma was born in 1906. I was very fortunate to grow up with grandma and I became Grandma’s helper at a very young age. These are the memories that really stick with me. One of the first stories of me helping Grandma was when I was four years old. They used to play a lot of cards at our house and my Grandma taught me how to say “ace of spades” or “l'aas di pik” in Michif. I went around the table to see who had the ace so I could help her win.

Her dad fought in the Resistance at Batoche in 1885 along with his cousins and his uncles. Grandma’s dad fought alongside his uncle, Charles Trottier, who is one of my great-great-grandfathers on my Grandpa’s side. After the Resistance they went south to Montana and North Dakota with many We went to a lot of rummage sales at the other Métis families. They came back to Pensioner and Pioneer Hall just off 20th Street in Saskatoon. She really liked to go to these sales and she couldn’t go alone because she needed help walking. I thought my Grandma was quite old but what I realize now is that she was actually just in her sixties when we would be going to these sales. Her eyesight wasn’t great and so I became her guide granddaughter a n d s h e would take me shopping. Rummage sales were one of her favorite places to go. Another thing that really sticks out in my mind is Flora Marie Trottier. Folklore / Special Edition 2021

rugs from old clothing and material scraps. I didn’t get these talents unfortunately, but I am grateful for being able to really learn the traditional Métis ways and I’m happy that her ways continue to live on in our family. I find it difficult to not offer people food because this was always the tradition that Grandma taught us. Whenever you gather together make sure to feed everyone. She fed strangers Former Army & Navy Department Store, Saskatoon. all of the time and would say, Grandma’s love for fancy was very fortunate because “You never know it might be screw-back earrings because I got to pick out my own Jesus himself at your door.” her ears weren’t pierced. Christmas present when she These are the values she She’d always be looking would take me to pick out instilled in me. for these little earrings. presents for all of her many Unfortunately, I don’t have grandchildren. We would Grandma was someone who a pair of her earrings, but take the store’s old wooden had very few material I think I must have gotten escalator to the top floor and possessions but gave the my love of sparkly jewellery have fries and a pop when best of what she did have from her. we were done shopping. I to her family and friends. have many great memories She liked to wear a particular Grandma also loved the of those shopping trips with style of nightgown that was getting harder to find all the Army & Navy Department grandma. time and I remember my mom Store. Grandma used to love to go there. We would call a I spent a lot of time staying searching and searching until taxi on a Saturday morning with Grandma after Grandpa she finally found one to give and she would put on her died. I threaded her needles to grandma for Christmas. In very best earrings, her nice before I went to school or true grandma fashion, she black hat, and her coat and out to play ball so she could gave it to my visiting cousin we would hop in the taxi and sew all day. She made many from Calgary who didn’t have go to the Army & Navy. I patchwork quilts and braided anything to sleep in. 24

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Grandma didn’t give her an old nightgown but the brand new one that my mom had searched and searched for. She believed in giving your best to others.

School building. When I was the consultant for First Nations and Métis education, my office was in that building. Sitting in my office I thought about how I was back

Back row: Ken Caron, Louis (Luger) Caron, Oliver Caron. Middle: Victoria Caron, Bertha Caron, Mary Caron, Arthur (Mick) Caron. Sitting: Flora Caron, Joe Caron.

This is a picture of my grandma and my grandpa and all of their children. It’s one of the only pictures we have of the whole family, so it’s very precious to me and it holds a lot of stories and memories. My grandma has been the person that has shaped who I am culturally and personally. I think about her every day and miss her. I often think about our visits to the Army & Navy which is now the Saskatoon Public Folklore / Special Edition 2021

at the Army & Navy again. I remember talking to my grandma and saying, “Look grandma, look where I am again.” The old wooden escalator has been preserved and when I went by I longed for a chance to make more memories with Grandma. I still talk to her often even though she’s gone from this earth. I wish she was in my life longer. I’m grateful for the time we shared and the strong Métis cultural values she modeled. 25

Clarence Trotchie, Faye Maurice’s father, playing hockey ca. 1950s.

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Looking Through My Old Photos Faye Maurice Looking through my old photos helps me remember stories that bring a smile to my face and sometimes a few tears. Stories, both written and spoken, have a powerful impact. Stories give us knowledge and lessons to enrich our lives. Stories connect us and remind us of where we came from. These photos are my stories. Someone who has always impacted my life for the better is my father, Clarence Trotchie. His life taught me that nothing is insurmountable.

occasionally, especially when he drank, he would give glimpses of the horrors and fear he experienced. I was also informed by my cousin that his $1 a day was sent home to his mother. My father loved hockey. He played hockey in Holland after the war and then played for a living in Canada. He played hard and was darn good at it, but his drinking prevented a career in the NHL perhaps. He met my mother playing hockey in 1954.

He died at 63. I miss him all the time. When you’re younger, and you have a parent pass away, you think they were old. He wasn’t old. In hindsight and being 66 now, I realize 63 was far too young. Despite the rocky patches in his life, he had many accomplishments and was loved and admired by many. When he enlisted in the army at 16 years of age, his mother went and brought him home. Determined to serve his country, he jumped on an eastbound train to re-enlist. He spent four years overseas in a tank as a Lance Corporal. His tales of war were usually light and humorous but Clarence Trotchie. Folklore / Special Edition 2021

get from them. He’d pick up anything he could make a few bucks on, including scrap metal, gadgets, and gizmos. That was his happy place. I didn’t find picking through what most consider trash very much fun, but I remember that look in his eyes. He would also pat his pocket and say, "pocket money my girl." Another way of spending time with my father I found exhilarating was going out into the bush for Christmas trees (below). He sold Christmas trees for many years and took pride in his selections. I also looked forward to a good feed of boiled rabbit when For the first 16 years of my life, my father we got home. played hard, drank hard and worked hard. Yes, it was hard on my mother and my family but there were some good times. For most people, going to the landfill is an arduous chore. For my father, that was his definition of going to a garage sale. He loved nothing more than jumping in his truck (below) and driving to all landfills in a fifty mile radius to see all the treasures he could

My siblings and I experienced the backbreaking job of rock picking with my dad and uncles. Funny how they pitched it as a week-long family holiday, but I’m grateful for the memory. When I was young, I didn’t know about alcoholism. Only later did I realize that most of my aunts and uncles were alcoholics. 28

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

My father was no exception. When I was spending time with family and friends. 16, around 1969, my father quit drinking with help from my Auntie Irene, a recovering He wanted good things for his family, friends, alcoholic. The rest slowly followed. and community. Under his leadership, the Métis/Michif people came together. These They became community-oriented, always were good times filled with laughter. It was striving to help others and we all became a happy community. stronger and closer as a Michif community. He taught me that without family and friends, you have nothing. You need that sense of connection through the good times and the tough times. He understood the struggles and strife of people and he was generous and kind to them. He reflected all the great qualities and values of my culture, as did many others who are all gone now. I could write a book about the people that imprinted on my life, they shouldn’t be forgotten. In sobriety, my father’s good qualities became more pronounced. He was a real go-getter. He liked to live every moment to the fullest because he knew life was short. He loved socializing, especially AA and cultural gatherings. He loved horse racing, cards, and parades. But mostly he enjoyed

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

My Mentor, Mon Onc Scott Duffee My story is about someone who passed away about eighteen years ago. So before I start I’m going to take a couple deep breaths and about ten seconds of silence, just to honour him and to make sure that I tell this story in a good way. You can join me in these breaths, or just hang tight while I do that.

I gotta tell you about this guy. He was one heck of a guy. He was this big Michif dude and he had lived quite a life. Michif is a term that some Métis people refer to themselves as, and is also the name of the language of the Métis People. This man had been around the block and had so many stories. Part of living a life Above: Scott Duffee and Mon Onc, 2002.

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

like that is you also make mistakes along the way. So he wasn’t a perfect guy, but he was a real big and special person in my life. I called him Mon Onc, a Michif French term which means ‘Uncle’.

of bothering me, but especially the lack of male role model relationships was bothering me the most. So I prayed about it. I prayed asking God, “Can you please just help me to find someone to teach me how to grow into a man.” I just said that prayer a few times and then I kind of forgot about it. I just continued on with life, doing the things I usually do.

I met Mon Onc when I was around twenty years old, and I was kind of struggling a little bit. At this time in my life I was really trying to learn about my Métis heritage and culture. Part of my life at this time was that I’d go out into the community to cultural events I was also struggling with the fact that that were taking place. One of these I had not really enjoyed a father-son events was a Feast and Round Dance at relationship in my life, nor had I really the Saskatoon Indian and Métis Friendship experienced as much of that younger Centre. I happened to see this big guy male-older male mentorship type and he was wearing this very distinct and relationship. I felt that I really wanted to colourful sash. I could tell that this sash experience and have that. I was so tired was handmade. I just knew that this of trying to figure stuff out on my own, particular sash came from how sashes especially when it came to relationships. I were a long time ago. was also tired of trying to figure out how to do just general guy stuff on my own. I just So I went up to him and I started talking wanted to have that mentorship in my life. to him, and learned that he actually made the sash he was wearing. Eventually I Another thing that was bothering me at asked him, “Can you teach me how to this time in my young life was a certain make a sash?” He said he could. He told aspect of the Métis culture that I didn’t me what kind of yarn to get. He said to quite understand: the Métis sash. The sash just come to his house, and he’ll teach me. is a larger woven belt that is often worn by Métis at cultural events. I knew that So I got the yarn and I went to his house. for many Métis, the sash was a special I brought him some extra yarn as well, part of the culture, but yet all the sashes just as kind of a little offering, to say thank generally looked the same. I knew they you for being willing to teach me. I sat were made somewhere and sold. I just down with him, and he started teaching me couldn’t understand what was up with the how to weave a sash. Then I went home sash. It doesn’t quite look like what we and did some weaving on my own. Then learn about. I went back to his house again to learn some more, especially with the mistakes I So these were two things that were kind naturally made as a first-time weaver. Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Eventually, I really started to connect with him as a mentor. One day I just asked him. I said, “Can I call you ‘Uncle?’” He said sure, and from then on, I started to call him ‘Mon Onc’. For the next four or five years until he passed away, he and I had a lot of adventures together. We went to all sorts of cultural events, and I learned all sorts of stuff from him. He was about thirty or thirty-five years older than me, so he was a real father figure. One time we went to this event in Candle Lake, Saskatchewan. It was kind of a Métis healing event back in about the year 2002. So anyways, at this gathering they had these shacks where the people there could sleep. They would put all the guys in a couple of shacks, and there were six bunk beds in there. So it was me and about four other young men from Cumberland House and Mon Onc. Us younger guys and this big dude all sleeping on these bunk beds in this bunkhouse. So it’s getting to be bed time and we’re all kind of settling in. We all started to doze off and then all of a sudden, we heard this loud snoring! Holy smokes, I’m talking decibels, high level sound decibels here. Not only could you not fall asleep, but you almost had to cover your ears! Well son of a gun, Mon Onc had fallen asleep before the rest of us and had started to snore. All of us young men were just tossing and turning. Some were starting to kind of swear under their breath quietly and you could just feel the agitation. Finally I decided, I gotta do 32

Sash, finger-woven by Scott Duffee.

something here. I woke him up, “Mon Onc, Mon Onc. You gotta get out of here man. You’re snoring way too loud, we can’t sleep.” “Okay, okay I’ll get out of here” Mon Onc said, and he went and slept in his vehicle. The young men were still agitated from this snoring. One was saying, “Geez, first I heard a chainsaw, then I heard a motorcycle” and so on. It was really funny what they were saying. There were a few funny experiences I remember from all the times I spent with Mon Onc. Another story makes me think of how we inherit trauma, and how sometimes as men we have a hard time to figure out what to do with that trauma. Me and Mon Onc, we had this in common. Folklore / Special Edition 2021

am. It was awkward but it was a special thing. Mon Onc and I visited all the time, and we had a really strong relationship. He passed away about five years after I had first met him. It was a really sad time for me. I didn’t know what to do and felt lost again. Once again that father-son type relationship was gone from my life. On top of the regular challenges of having a young family and just being a young man with issues of my own. I prayed about it, “God, what am I going to do now?”

Sash started by Scott's mentor, finished by Scott, and then gifted back to his mentor.

Mon Onc hadn’t experienced a healthy father-son relationship in his life either. So we were kind of learning how to have that with each other. We both had our struggles. One time we were venting our struggles to each other, feeling the sadness of it, and at the end of the conversation I said, “Mon Onc, I love you.” Things went quiet. A couple seconds passed. Then he said, “Nephew, I love you too.” It was kind of this weird awkward guy moment, like guys don’t usually say that to each other. It’s kind of like “I love you man!” An awkward kind of a moment. But it was important. That was the first time I had experienced that type of male role model situation and feeling accepted for who I Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Then this peaceful feeling came over me and a thought came into my head. I still had that father-son relationship. I just happened to be on the father-side of it now. It’s time now I became more present with my son. He was just three years old, and it was time for me to have more of a relationship with him. That was the message that came to me. The last thing I’ll tell you about Mon Onc was he always wore a nice hat. It was always decorated with a feather or two. I loved that hat. He also wore his hand-woven sash, one of the many sashes he made. The pattern he usually made is called a chevron and it had four colours in it: red, yellow, white, and black. He called that type of sash The Four Directions Sash. When he went to a cultural event, he’d wear his sash. So that’s the story of Mon Onc and I. It is a story of kinship, with a chosen family instead of with the family you’re born into. Thank you for letting me share this story. 33

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

My Complicated Relationship With My Skin Marilyn Black This is a story about my complicated relationship with my skin. I am a Red River Métis Cree woman and my people are from Cumberland House. I am a product of the Sixties Scoop and I was adopted into a non-Indigenous family. Even though I was cared for and had all of my needs met, I never felt that I truly belonged anywhere. My adopted parents had two biological children and then ten years later they adopted me and my sister, who were no relation to each other. I did not grow up learning about my culture and truthfully, I had internalized the prejudiced beliefs of mainstream society. I desperately wanted to be white. I did everything I could to try and pass: dying my hair, using makeup, but no matter what I did I was still brown. When people would ask if I was First Nations, I would become defensive and say, "I have no idea - I’m adopted." I was in denial, and I refused to self-identify as being an Indigenous person. So things like being called a “squaw” while you’re waiting for the bus, or not being invited over to classmates' houses to play, and being followed around a store, which still happens to me by the way, made me shun learning about my roots.

I struggled with my identity. I was neither here nor there, and due to this conflict, I had no interest in searching out my birth family. My adopted family had significant problems. My mother Carolyn had severe mental health issues, as did my adopted sister who got trapped in the addiction cycle early on, and the entire family just spiralled. I left home when I was 16. I had already quit school by then and I never made it through grade ten. School was so hard for me. I just never found my “tribe.” I was the ghost student and I just felt graduation would never become a reality. So I quit. As I got older I worked, but I wanted my children to have a different life from me. I had this strict list of the man I was going to have children with. I knew he had to be white, have blonde hair, be tall, blue eyes, be smart, and had to be kind. Luckily enough when I was 18 I met my husband, Don. He checked all the boxes and he has since been my rock. He encouraged me to go back to school and he has been beside me on my learning journey about my culture every step of the way. My daughter was the impetus for me starting my journey because I did not want to identify as Indigenous at all. I had no interest in searching out my roots. She was the one who said it was her right as a person, that she needed to have my

Opposite page: Marilyn, aged 12. Folklore / Special Edition 2021

medical history. She is an obstetriciangynecologist in Edmonton who is specializing in Indigenous women’s health. It was because of her and her demanding to know her medical history that started me on this path. I tell everyone now I truly believe this is the moment that I woke up. Until this point, I had no idea how important it is to know who you are, where you come from, and who your people are. I was a teacher teaching about identity, but yet I still did not understand how important all of these pieces were for myself. My daughter and I now have infinity tattoos to show our pride. No more hiding.

paperwork in spite of all of her moves. She had all that I needed to register with the Métis Nation and for this I am grateful. Virginia passed away in 2018 and I’m thankful we had the chance to get to know each other. I feel that something made this connection happen. Like maybe the Creator knew that this is what I needed at this time. My birth father was Lionel Deschambeault, and by all accounts he was a good looking, smart, kind, Michif man. He was many things including the mayor of Cumberland House at one time and a prize-winning trapper and dog sled racer. He is pictured below with his dog Jack.

In 2015, my husband and I drove to Marilyn's birth father, Lionel Deschambeault, and Winnipeg and met my birth mother his prize winning sled dog. Virginia, half-sisters Kim and Tanya at the Olive Garden. I can’t say when we first met that it was a “Hallmark holiday movie.” It was awkward. We all had our own stories and histories, but it was the beginning. My mother had kept all of my adoption Marilyn and Virginia, 2015.

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

He had an untimely death in 1972, but left a strong legacy. I really wish I had the chance to meet him. The summer of 2015, Don and I travelled to Cumberland House to meet my birth father’s side of the family. My extended family welcomed me with open arms. I have relatives both in the town and on the reserve. In this picture (below) is my grandmother Melany Carriere. She said that if she had known about me she would have claimed me and brought me back to Cumberland House. My half-sister Loretta was the first person on my father’s side of the family to reach out to me; for this I am forever grateful.

Left to right: Marilyn Black, my brother Cordell Deschambeault; sister Loretta Nabess; seated is my paternal grandmother Melany Carriere.

We are still getting to know each other. My half-brother Cordell builds log houses in Cumberland House and has a bed and breakfast. I am so looking forward to the pandemic ending so I can go and visit. My husband commented that it was such an eye-opening experience for him going to visit because he was the minority there. He had never been in that situation before. My Indigenous relatives poked a little bit of good natured fun at him for being the white guy. After the visit I reflected at how different my life could have been if I travelled down a different path. What if my birth mother kept me? What if my grandmother claimed me? What if I had never woken up and sought out my cultural roots and birth family? Lots of wonders. I went back to school. I did all of my grade 12 upgrading as an adult and then took the teacher’s assistant course at Kelsey. I worked as a T.A. while my kids were growing up and I went back to university to get my Education degree and continued on with my Masters. In the spring of 2019, I found myself as the vice-principal at one of the largest elementary schools in the city of Saskatoon on the east side. It was in the highest income area and the highest achieving academic school. It was unexpected that I was placed there. I was the only Indigenous staff member and there were only a handful of

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Indigenous families and students in a population of over five hundred kids. I had asked to be placed in a community school. This was just not where I expected to be. I knew I was on the wrong path. So, I stopped, took a deep breath, and a leap of faith. I quit teaching. I thought if I could have a clean slate and work anyplace, where would I want to work? It was very clear that it would be Gabriel Dumont Institute. I applied and got hired right away. This is where I’m supposed to be. I have the privilege of working alongside Métis people for the Métis community. I’m now doing the cultural work I’m supposed to do. My son proudly identifies as Métis. He was a little late coming on board. He is a

volunteer math tutor at Dumont Technical Institute and really enjoys it. He is convocating from university this year with a mathematical physics degree. He wants to be a role model to other Indigenous students so that they feel comfortable to enter the fields of math and science. My children are travelling their own paths of reconciliation and cultural reclamation. I will never again feel the shame of who I am. I now love my skin. I am proud to wear the colour of my culture. I never try to hide. I am blessed to have had so many mentors help me, including many members of Gabriel Dumont Local #11.

Left to right: Beverly Goulet, sister; Hazel Deschambeault; Marilyn Black; Loretta Nabess; Cordell Deschambeault. Photo taken at Cumberland House.

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

Share your Story: Writing for Folklore Magazine About Folklore Magazine

Length

Folklore Magazine is a unique venue to share stories of Saskatchewan. The magazine is a rich resource for future (and current!) generations to enjoy.

Maximum length is 2000 words. There is no minimum length.

Regular print editions of Folklore are published four times a year. We have an online blog of selected stories from the print edition at www.skhistory. ca.

What stories are we looking for? We accept unpublished original work that shares stories and histories of this place, including: • “People stories” – this includes stories of events, daily life, family, humour, or personal/lived experiences that share what it is like to live in this place. These can be from a person’s own experiences. They could also be a story told to the author by a family or community member (with permission to share).

Sending in a Story Please email submissions, preferably in a Word document, to submissions@shfs.ca. You can also submit by mail to our office at the address on the back cover.

Don’t forget to include: • Your current full mailing address (we need a place to send any payment cheques to); • Phone number; and • A short bio and a head-and-shoulders picture.

Submission Deadlines • • • •

Winter issue – September 15 Spring issue – December 15 Summer issue – March 15 Autumn issue – June 15

Payment

• Feature photographs - Send in a photo, with a few lines of description.

Authors are paid $1.50 per column inch for published submissions, plus a complimentary copy.

• Articles researched from books or archives, with references.

Questions?

• Poetry or songs. • Book Reviews.

Folklore / Special Edition 2021

If you have any questions, or would like advice on your story before you send it, contact our Editor at editor@shfs.ca. 39

Return Undeliverable Canadian Mail To: Folklore Magazine 243 Robin Crescent Saskatoon SK S7L 6M8

Subscribe to Folklore Magazine Regular editions of Folklore are published four times a year. A subscription is $25 per year including GST. To subscribe, visit www.shfs.ca or scan the QR code below. You can also subscribe by calling the SHFS office with a credit card at 1-800-919-9437, or by mailing a cheque for $25 to: Folklore Magazine 243 Robin Crescent, Saskatoon, SK, S7L 6M8 Instructions for using this QR Code 1. On your phone or tablet, open the built-in camera app. 2. Point the camera at the QR code. 3. A banner will appear that reads "Webpage - Tap here to go to 'membership-can.keela.co' in your browser." Tap the banner. QR Code Scan to Subscribe

4. You will be taken to the SHFS web page for Membership Purchases and Renewals.

Saskatchewan History & Folklore Society - 63rd Year of Publication Sharing Saskatchewan Stories since 1957 Folklore / Special Edition 2021