A Difficult Truth

A couple of years ago, I was hired by a local First Nations group to speak to their chiefs about media relations. They were finding it difficult to talk to reporters and to get stories reported accurately, and wanted some tips. I came away from that session with a tough realization: I had taken on a mild form of racism through osmosis in my years in media, and didn’t even know it.  

Example: A police news release would arrive. It would deal with an incident on First Nations land and it would be dismissed as unimportant. Even a murder or the death of someone in a car wreck, that would normally make the news because it occured within the radius of our coverage area, might be greeted with a shrug. It was an “other” crime. A derogatory comment about drinking and lawlessness might even get tossed out.

This isn’t fair. Some of it arises from First Nations having their own police forces, and systems for dealing with crimes. Some of it comes from the knowledge that alcohol is a major problem on reserves. But some of it comes from an ingrained form of racism that’s been part of Canadian culture for decades, maybe centuries. And few people want to admit it.

The chiefs told me that the first question they get from a reporter about an upcoming protest is, “are you planning anything violent?” That’s just not appropriate. I felt sick. 

Yesterday, I got to exorcise a few of my demons by inviting Chief Leslee White-Eye of the Chippewas of the Thames First Nation south of London, to join me in studio to talk about how things have changed since the Trudeau government took over and made a priority of healing rifts with First Nations people. Where the Conservative government refused pleas for an inquiry into missing and murdered aboriginal women, the Liberals are about to launch one, and that’s just one of their changes. Chief White-Eye and I talked about bias in non-native media, the issues facing her community and those she works with, how challenging it is to build a bridge of understanding with London’s municipal government and so on. She has a lot of responsibility.

Off air, we discussed why so many people dismiss the concerns of native people. We do see situations where a chief is living off the reserve, in luxury, while his/her people struggle. I told her that some of the lack of understanding might be cultural: I don’t feel responsible for what my relatives did several generations back, while she lives those traditions and feels those issues as if they happened yesterday. We had a terrific chat. She’s so smart and articulate and fills me with hope that she’ll accomplish her goals.

After my media session a couple of years back, I promised those chiefs and executives that I would try to convince the decision-makers in the Fanshawe College journalism course to teach a class on First Nations. Everyone agrees it’s a good idea but so far, no one’s given it a green light. I’m not the person to teach it. In fact, I’d like to take that class. It’s just a pebble in an ocean of misunderstandings, misconceptions, hurts and past mistakes. But even a little a pebble can cause a ripple that someone else might notice, and want to make one of their own.

 

2 thoughts on “A Difficult Truth”

  1. This is powerful in its honesty. Thank you for sharing the journey of your education and wishes and attempts to share what you’ve learned. There’s so much we do out of ignorance – certainly not malice – and we can always be enlightened, all of us. Thank you again.

  2. Thanks Erin. It was a painful realization and I know from hundreds of people I’ve worked with that I’m not alone, nor am I anywhere near the “worst” case. Chief White Eye said her community needs to develop more journalists to tell stories from the inside, but they’ll still need to find an outlet for them. I think we are missing out on learning and growing from knowing more about our First Nations communities. Sending a reporter to an annual pow-wow just doesn’t cut it.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *