Our Annuities Trial
The RHTLF MEDALLION By Azhiinikwe Newatchgiizhig, Kaella-Marie Earle
In my early days of Indigenous advocacy, I led the way with a fire in my heart. Fire that presented as rage. Rage that my family members went to residential and day schools. Rage that my communities were living in such poor socio-economic conditions compared to the rest of Canada. I don’t think rage is the right way to approach new relationships like the ones required by age-old treaties. But in this story, that anger taught me something important. When I first learned about the Robinson-Huron Treaty of 1850, I remember wondering why it wasn’t part of the university-wide curriculum at my post-secondary school. When I asked, I didn’t get an answer. I felt a lot of frustration, because all I wanted was an answer, and a commitment to do better. The anger inside of me about the injustices my family and community have had to face as a result of not honouring Treaty commitments always propelled me to do something about situations that I felt were not right. Do something now, even if the existing system wouldn’t support it and wouldn’t support me in doing something about it. So I did. I gathered the resources I needed to hold a small campus gathering to teach the community about the Robinson-Huron Treaty of 1850. In a few days, I raised a few thousand dollars to make it happen, supported by a few helping hands in the university community. I invited speakers to an RHT 1850 gathering to discuss the importance of RHT 1850 and foster discussion among university students about what that meant. We also had a sacred fire and shared a feast. As I got older, I realized that when the university wouldn’t support me in doing this, it was one of the most significant teachings that I would receive. It was that week that I learned that I don’t need permission to be Indigenous. 26
| E-Wiindamaagejig: The Robinson Huron Treaty Times
Being Indigenous is in my DNA, and found inside the DNA of all Indigenous peoples is the ability to naturally recognize Indigenous law. Indigenous law is in the water. Indigenous law is in the land. Indigenous law speaks to us through all of our animal and plant relations. Despite all young Indigenous people, including me, being their grandparents greatest dream come true that was never supposed to happen—Indigenous law came out of us that day. Indigenous law came out of us because Indigenous law cannot be taken from Indigenous people. Our culture and languages will always be there, sleeping, waiting for us to reclaim them. Whispering to our people in the winter wind, but never gone. That day, a sacred fire was lit in my heart and the hearts of other Anishinaabeg who knew that the litigation of the Robinson Huron Treaty of 1850 was not just litigation, but a journey of Anishinaabeg people reclaiming their inherent right to practise Indigenous law. This inherent right is something that we must recognize as a critical step in Canada’s journey toward truth and reconciliation, and toward the building of a new nation-to-nation relationship. My mother taught me that the name Canada is really kinaa daa in Anishinaabemowin, meaning that “we all live together.”
