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it will make a difference, maybe even to the Longhouse people. We welcome you, Annie Graham."
The three of us talked of children and books and learning all the way to the dirt road that led to
Oshweken. Seth had two school-age children who would be in my care. Bridget spoke
enthusiastically of the schoolhouse that had been built recently. It was attached to the public
health office and a medical dispensary.
"The Band Council has provided a modest house for both of us to share. So whether we like it or
not," she beamed "we're destined to be good friends."
***
The Present: Odd, Cathleen thought, wasn't it only last fall when Bridget had shown her a locket that
Nana had given her during their time together in Six Nations? On the back was inscribed "my life" and
inside there were badly faded pictures of Nana and Bridget.
"Why, "my life", Aunt Bridget?" She remembered asking her at the time.
"We were young, Katie. And life was oh so serious and passionate." She had answered. "They were the
best of times, and the worst. Just like Dickens said." and then refused to say anymore.
There were more pictures in the trunk, Cathleen thought as she flipped through the notebook, she had
seen them there when she first looked through it. She found them again, two sepia-toned postcards,
tucked away in an envelope at the bottom. On the back Nana had marked the year 1916. They had
been taken at a studio against a background of simulated opulence. In one, Nana and Bridget sat
together, almost smiling, content with life, leaning happily into one another. Bridget's hand rested on
Nana's shoulder. The other picture was of Nana standing against a false background of an English
garden, her hand placed stiffly on a flowered pedestal. Her face was strong-featured, intense, beautiful in
a rugged way. Her thick dark hair, parted severely down the centre, was pulled lightly back to a length
unseen. She wore a plain white blouse with a scalloped collar and three-quarter length sleeves. The
blouse was tucked tightly into a neatly draped plain dark skirt. She stood tall, imposing and proud, her
head cocked slightly forward and to the left. And though she did not smile, her eyes reflected happiness,
self-confidence. She placed the photographs on the lamp table so she could refer to them while she read.
***
The Past: "As we made our way down the road, Seth pointed out a log structure set deep in a field
of scrub brush and bulrushes. "That is the Onondaga Longhouse. There are three other
Longhouse societies on this reserve, down below where we are now are Seneca, Lower Cayuga
and Onandaga, up above there is Sour Springs. Longhouse People follow the Code of
Sganyodae:yoh, Handsome Lake, in English."
"Gaihiwi'yo." I replied using the Iroquois term for Handsome Lake's doctrine.
"So you know about the Code already?" Seth Crow Catcher smiled approvingly at me while
Bridget beamed across his shoulder.
"Only what I was able to find out from my Mohawk teacher at the College. He told us that
Handsome Lake preached isolation from white influences and strict adherence to traditional
religion and ways."
"Then he must have told you that your job would be a tough one," Seth cautioned, "Handsome
Lake warns against learning the white man's language, and using the white man's medicine, his
tools and his organizations; especially the church."
"Yes, he told me this. But he also told me that the Longhouse people understood that the world
was changing and above all, they needed to survive. Chief Crow Catcher, I would like to make
school a place where the people can learn what it is to be Iroquois as well as white, both are
equally important."
He nodded gravely as I spoke and stared thoughtfully at the horse's undulating haunches as we
rolled down the corduroy road. "There has been much debate over this issue within the band
council and within the four Longhouse Societies. It will not come as a surprise to you that the
council agrees with this approach and the hereditary chiefs are opposed to it."
Levy Harper, my teacher, had already posed this very situation when I had told him of my
appointment to Six Nations. And after much discussion and prayer, we believed we had worked
out a solution to the problem. "What if we ask the faith keepers to handle the teaching of
traditional ways and of languages while I take care of the rest?"
He laughed out loud and slapped his thigh. The horse startled but was quickly contained by his
strong hold on the reins. "Miss Graham, if you have all our problems worked out before we reach
Oshweken, what will you do for the rest of your time here?"
The remainder of our journey was light-hearted as we crossed through marshy flatlands and
rolling farm country dotted here and there with clapboard houses and log cabins. Rows upon rows
of emerging cornstalks waved their welcome to our little party and tree swallows coursed high
above our heads chattering playfully in their aerial ballet. Over the next ridge Oshweken
appeared before us, a little garden of whitewashed buildings tucked neatly in the folds of two
gentle hills.
Within the month, I opened the doors of the schoolhouse to an assortment of children ranging in
age from five years to sixteen. They came entirely from the Christian convert community and
were happy to follow the standard curriculum established by the Province of Ontario. They were
bright and eager children, a pleasure to teach and a joy to be around.
I learned from Bridget how Seth Crow Catcher had been delighted with my ideas and impressed
with my direct and honest manner. "Crow Catcher is unique." she explained, "He is a Catholic
and a member in good standing of the Sour Springs Longhouse Society. If anyone can talk the
traditionalists into accepting your plan, he can."
"How can this be?" I asked. "Doesn't his status in the church eliminate him from the
Longhouse?"
"It should. In fact anyone else in his position would have been booted out long ago. But Seth is a
born politician, a diplomat. And it doesn't hurt that his wife's family holds the hereditary title of
Sachem to the Seneca Turtle Clan."
In time, word got around that an Ojibway woman had come to teach at Six Nations. Curious
onlookers milled about the schoolhouse steps at the end of the day and unenrolled children
popped into the classroom to get a better look at the new schoolmistress.
Soon our modest little house became the scene of unexpected visits from band members and their
families and especially their eligible bachelor sons. Our Sunday afternoon walks that we had so
enjoyed during the first months of my appointment gave way to social gatherings in our parlour.
Important issues were discussed in the warmth of a good cup of tea. Sometimes what started out
as a brief visit by Seth Crow Catcher or other members of the band council would turn into an
all-night discussion.
Even Bridget gained an acceptance denied her before my coming. She was after all, a white
woman sent by the government to practice white medicine. For my part, I shared with her the
knowledge of medicinal plants and herbal decoctions that Mama and Nookomis Dinah had taught
me. This helped open doors to the traditional medicine practices of the Longhouse. As she probed
deeper into their healing ways, they grew curious about hers. Faith keepers and shaman women
gathered in her dispensary to compare remedies and adapt new methods of treatment to old
problems. Bridget flourished and her spirit grew rich with each secret revealed from the Code of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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