The Importance of Tradition

In the Gitxsan culture, house groups or wilps help structure their communities and laws. Host Shaneen Robinson talks with her auntie, Darlene Howard about the importance of following their traditions. 

Funded by Sirius XM Canada through the Community Radio Fund of Canada
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Transcript

Multiple Speakers [00:00:00] [cheerful electronic music] Sim gigyat, Sigidim Haanak’, K’ubawilxsihlxw. Oki, wishing you good life. Kuei! Kuei! Yo! Wik’sas. Dánet'e, negha dágǫ́ht’e.

Announcer [00:00:14] This is Words and Culture, a series on Indigenous languages funded by SiriusXM through the Community Radio Fund of Canada and distributed by Native Voice One, The Native American Radio Network. [music fades out]

Shaneen Robinson-Desjarlais [00:00:32] Sim gigyat, Sigidim Haanak’, K’ubawilxsihlxw. Tansi, Kihew Ga Ni Pawit Disinakason, Mahigan Totem. My name is Shaneen Robinson-Desjarlais and I’m a member of the Gitxsan Nation of Gitanmaax, British Columbia on my mother’s side. And a member of the Pimicikamak Cree Nation, Cross Lake Band of Indians, Treaty 5 territory in northern Manitoba on my Father’s side.

I was born in northern Manitoba, but grew up in Winnipeg. As a kid I spent a lot of time in my mom’s territory in northwestern B.C. Summertime and some Christmases were always a blast with my many cousins, Aunties, Uncles and most importantly my Ye’eh and Zeets.

It took us two full days of driving across the prairies, into the foothills and finally into the mountains to get to Gitanmaax. Nearly three days if we took a train. I would always get so excited as we would cross the Hagwilget bridge because it meant I was almost at my Zeetsies house.

I remember watching my Ye’eh and my older cousin Brad bale hay and feed all the farm animals, having picnics and fires on our piece of land across from the band hall looking up at Stegyoden mountain. One summer I remember being on a little tin boat with my Ye’eh and my cousin Jordy on the Skeena river. I would have been about 7-years-old at the time. We pulled in the net and one of the big salmon was still alive flopping around. My Ye’eh had a little club and hit the fish over the head. I cried a bit and he said to me, “We don’t cry when we have to kill animals. They give their lives to feed our people”. That made sense to me and this city girl never questioned fishing nor hunting again.

Gitxsan people have relied on salmon and other wildlife for thousands of years. My Ye’eh Walter Wilson, Tsogoslee, and my Zeets Doris Wilson, Dim Digee Buu, were highly respected hereditary Chiefs. Together they had eleven children, ten daughters and one son. My Auntie Darlene Howard is the oldest and speaks our language fluently. She married into the nearby community of Gitsegukla that has a slightly different dialect of Gitxsanimaax.

I asked her to introduce herself.

Darlene Howard [00:02:39] (introduces self in Gitxsanimaax) Bagadil Diit Wen, translates to Two Sitting Together.

My grandfather, the late Anda’ap, gave me this name. And I felt offended at first, and then as time went on, I spoke to other Elders, especially my mom and my uncle, (speaks name in Gitxsanimaax). And they explained to me what Bagadil Diit Wen meant, Two Sitting Together.

So my husband and I are both Fireweed. He's from Gitsegukla. I'm from Gitanmaax – originally from Gitanmaax. And it's a big no-no to marry someone in the same clan. So, when I was ready, my grandpa gave me the name Bagadil Diit Wen. It's like (speaks Gitxsanimaax) Bagadil Diit Wen. (speaks Gitxsanimaax) Bagadil Diit Wen.

Many years later, I’m here (speaks Gitxsanimaax) [fades out, English translation fades in]

Sindig is way out on Salmon Road – Salmon River Road. I cannot say how many kilometers out that way, but that's the old – one of the old villages where Anda'ap came from, where Gutginuuxs came from and where we are now. We reside – I reside in Gitsegukla. We were raised in Gitanmaax, but my ancestors were from Simdeex.

My home origin, where I was raised, was Gitanmaax Reserve. I married into Gitsegukla Reserve, which is where I'm at now. My mom was raised on our Lax’Yip while she was growing up, and one of the Lax’Yip she was raised on was Simdeex. It's called Simdeex, the village where my mom was raised.

One of four communities where we have our fishing ground, our trap line, they moved each season – with the season. But we are from Shinjil. The first village is Anyow where we currently fish. Well, that was where my brother was fishing before he passed last summer.

The other village is up the Salmon Moor, Kshamadji Ho'ot. That's the land that are Lax’Yip – that we protected through a blockade.

Below Kshmadji Ho'ot, there's ‘Ksan – the Skeena, the village my ancestors lived in. And I remember going there to fish when we were little. ‘Ksan, that's the third village.

The fourth village is Simdeex, where we're originally from.

And we moved those four villages seasonal for trapping, hunting, fishing, picking berries. We had those four villagers where my ancestors lived.

Shaneen Robinson-Desjarlais [00:06:50] (narrating) When I was a child and into my teenage years and early twenties I was able to see much of our territory my Auntie speaks of. Unloh is our private fishing area accessible to our wilp.

Wilp is a house group. The name of the house group we are a part of is Wilp’ Anda’ap. The matrilineal family, extended relatives, and kin within that house group is referred to as wil’naat’ahl. We are all part of the Fireweed clan known as Gisk’haast.

My sons have been there and touched their feet on our land and in the river a couple summers ago.

Kshamadji Ho'ot is part of our ancient unceded Lax’Yip where our family blockaded in 1990. In much of the 90s, I was camped out with my mom, Zeets, Aunties, and cousins to protect our land, Lax’Yip, from being clear cut. It was all part of our battle that is now known as Delgamuukw, the Supreme Court of Canada’s landmark ruling in 1997.

As I’ve mentioned, in our culture we have house groups or wilps responsible for our given territories. I asked Auntie Darlene to explain in detail what a house group is.

Darlene Howard [00:07:57] So my role as a house group member is basically to support the work that needs to be done. I support, liked, when we had the roadblock in ‘95, I supported mom, her and I stayed at the camp. While my sisters – other sisters, those who had experience working with the government, they traveled down to Vancouver, attended the court case, and they won our court case while mom and I stayed behind at Kshmadji Ho’ot, protecting our Lax’Yip.

So there's two groups, and there's another group. My brother helped, along with other house group members. He was the Land Lax’Yip Protector. That team walked the land our ancestors lived in, and we still do.

So the role of responsibility for the team, for my sisters, and other house group members – they were educated to stand up to the government when they tried to pull things on us. And our role, my role, and my sister's younger than me, we kept up with the support fundraising for our court case. Whether it be baking or whatever it took to fundraise.

It takes teamwork to stand up and do the work that we need to do to protect our Lax’Yip. We are not unorganized. We are one. We did it single-handedly, our house group. That is our role. We provide fish for our house group members. Our brother provided firewood.

We all went on long weekends, camped out, picking berries. We camped out at the fishing sites. And my brother used to drive the boat. We'd run in the water and just pulled the net out. We smoked the fish, we canned the fish, we salted, we froze for winter supply.  That was what we did for our house group, Wilp’s Anda’ap.

We gave fish to our neighboring communities. We gave salmon to the Elders back then. My dad and mom used to go from village to village sharing the work we did. One Elder, Wen Suwet’engit from Anspayaxw, stood up and spoke in the Wilp Li’ilgit. And congratulated my dad and my mom.

(speaks Gitxsanimaax)

More than what money can provide. (speaks Gitxsanimaax)

Traditional law. We have to know it, we need to know, we need to live it. We need to teach it to our grandchildren so that the traditional law will keep going. We cannot change the traditional law. It's not our – it's not for us to do that. We need to follow the ancestors – the laws of the ancestors.

When my late grandfather said, “Lately, whenever a person passes away, the traditional law changes.” That's not the way it should be. We need to stay with the laws of our ancestors.

Many, in each house group, or each wil’naat’ahl, they have their limx̱ooy. That means their own song that derives from their wil’naat’ahl or their house group. We have a limx̱ooy song. And there is two ladies that taught us while we were fishing at Anyow many years ago. And that's my grandmother, Violet Brown, who is wife of Anda’ap. I'm sorry, I can't remember her Gitxsan name. And the other one was Mary Johnson, the late Mary Johnson.

They came and they sat and had tea with us around the campfire every evening, telling stories. So one night, these two ladies asked us to sit around the fire, and they taught us our limx̱ooy. We were not allowed to use – there was no recordings back then. We had to go with our memory.

And then later on in the night, when we settled down in our tents, we'd start singing it. You know, we'd laugh, “No, it's not like that. It's like this.” And how we – how I remembered is how that song limx̱ooy was formed.

Granny Violet and Mary Johnson explained to us about our limx̱ooy. And they said, “You sing it at ceremonies. Like when we say goodbye to a High Chief or Sigidim Haanak’.” My mom was a Sigidim Haanak’, she was high-standing in our house. She married a Simoogyet, our dad.

We sang our limx̱ooy to dad. I'll use that as an example. Mom asked me to sing it. And that's when you put out your blanket. Dim Digee Bu’s blanket was laid on there. Through our song. And we say to our dad, “(speaks Gitxsanimaax). Don't look back. (speaks Gitxsanimaax). We're putting out Dim Digee Bu’s blanket.”

The song, the limx̱ooy, in other words. To walk on. As you walk into the sunset, we'll sing our limx̱ooy for you. And this is how it goes.

(sings in Gitxsanimaax)

(vocalizes gently)

Shaneen Robinson-Desjarlais [00:16:59] (narrating) I’ve heard our limx̱ooy sung a few times over the years. It’s part our wil’naat’ahl’s adaawk, our oral history. Hearing it makes me want to learn it with my sons.

Knowing our language also informs our connection to our ayookw, our traditional law. But we may lose our language within my generation. I only know a little Gitxsanimaax and a bit of Cree.

I wanted to know what Auntie Darlene thinks about the potential loss of our language.

Darlene Howard [00:17:26] We are a powerful Nation because we still speak our language. I teach it to our children, grandchildren. The biggest fear I have is the younger generation who don’t – who are not as fortunate as our children, that no one is teaching them.

And I really am thankful for the other Gitxsan, who committed themselves to teaching the language to our students – our Indigenous students. It's really important. That's our strength.

Our language – we cannot use it in a bad way. Like, by that I mean you cannot be talking about that person in front of them. No, we were raised never to do that. (speaks Gitxsanimaax)

The strongest part is – like, say, in our Wilp Li’ilgit. That's our strength. It's coming into our Wilp Li’ilgit amsiwaa. They're coming in to our Wilp Li’ilgit, we're losing it.

That why the traditional law no longer upholds peace. Because of that. And it's not their fault. I think that some Simoogyet really need to sit down and say, “You know, we can't be doing this. We need to protect our language. We need to protect our business that goes on in the Feast Hall.”

Like our Lax’Yip, for example. Look how the government is finding out about us now. It's no longer like – we protected our land. We still protect our land with our language. We sit down and speak, my team from our wil’naat’ahl, they sit down and they talk to the government.

But we have a group of some Simoogyet who work against one another and speak with their English language. About what we plan. It's like, I don't know, I hate to say it, but it's almost like they're giving away our land, our rights to the government. Selling us out. That's what it is. That's the fear I have.

We're losing our fish. We're losing – look at the clear cut logging. Now we have to travel many miles to get firewood. We have to travel many miles to get our animals, our game. There's no more moose nearby, no more trap lines nearby. Wildlife is coming into the community now. That's the fear that we have. That's what – the fear that all the wise Simoogyet have.

Shaneen Robinson-Desjarlais [00:20:51] (narrating) Auntie mentioned the word, “Simoogyet.” That means hereditary chief.

Before our conversation wrapped up, I asked Auntie Darlene to leave us with some of her thoughts on what her hope is for the future of Gitxsanimaax – the language of the Gitxsan Nation.

Darlene Howard [00:21:06] Before mom left us. I lived with her, I took care of her. For how many months, I moved in with her until my sister Ardeth was able to come move in with her. But during that time we had many talks. She had a lot of fears. She’s expressed to me that she knows her time is coming and she feels bad about having to leave us.

I don't feel so bad about my children. Who I feel bad for is my grandchildren. What do we have left for them? Like for you, Shaneen? I can put the question back to you, what has your grandma left for you? What has our Elders left for you? There's nothing.

And there's the government still taking, taking, taking. They're not going to stop taking until they've stripped us. Much like they did to Indian residential school. But they're doing this in front of the world. Look how the law removed this one woman, who was protecting their roadblock against the government.

Oh, I'm sorry, I can't remember the name of this camp by Houston there. The pain in my heart I felt when they led that woman away. Off her Lax’Yip. Children crying, her grandchildren. Another camp that was stripped. Pipelines are destroying. Logs were clear-cut logging.

You know, like, look what they're doing to our rivers now. How many times my dad ended up in court for catching too many salmon or salmon closure? It didn't matter what the excuse was. The fisheries were always there and they tried to belittle my dad, but my dad stood strong. He wasn't gonna give up. For his wil’naat’ahl.

Our father clan, now, are still fishing for what our dad fought for. We don't get any of that. My dad always said, “That's your father clan. If you need help, you help them to help you.”

But we don't do that. We've lost our way. We are losing our way, slowly, because of what the government is doing to us. And we have these so-called Sim Gigyat who wear blankets! And they dance! Oh, and they dish out money. Not to us! But to their delegation of select friends in the Feast Hall. Never mind, us the Gitxsan. It's no longer about us. It's about the Sim Gigyat and their delegation of liksgigyetim gyet, amsiwaa, government.

We're going to be extinct. I'm very sad because I have great-grandchildren. Mum's great-grandchildren, great-great-grand-children. What do we have for them? We need to be diligent with our mouth, speak the truth, and look the person – the government in the face when we speak.

If a handful of us keep exercising the traditional law – the language barrier is the powerful part. We start speaking Gitxsanimaax in the Wilp Li’ilgit so that the liksgigyetim gyet won't know what we're talking about.

The Sim Gigyat need to start using due diligence. So that they can start thinking about their children, their grandchildren. I've seen too many Chiefs pass away. Now, their grandchildren have lost their way. It makes me sad and I don't want that for my children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren. That's not who Gitxsan is. Gitxsan women need to start standing up and speak the truth with strength and live the truth with our language.

(speaks Gitxsanimaax)

Shaneen Robinson-Desjarlais [00:26:12] (narrating) I understand why my Auntie Darlene feels frustration as many of our people do. She’s lived through a lot. Has seen many changes and witnessed so much stripped away from our Nation. But she hasn’t lost hope. 

She finds strength and pride in being Gitxsan.

Darlene Howard [00:26:29] All I would like to say – we each have a legacy, each one of us. Even our children have legacies. I would like to think that my legacy would be to leave something powerful for my children, grandchildren, for all Gitxsan. All the Gitxsan. Just be Gitxsan.

Shaneen Robinson-Desjarlais [00:26:59] (narrating) I’ve always been proud to be Gitxsan. To be a part of an ancient matrilineal Nation and from a long bloodline of powerful, resilient women. This project will be part of my legacy that I will leave.

I’m Shaneen Robinson-Desjarlais, your host for the Gitxsan episodes of Words and Culture.

Remember to follow us on socials for more great content and check out our website at wordsandculture.ca. Hamiyaa for listening.

Announcer [00:27:26] [cheerful electronic music] Words and Culture is made possible with funding from SiriusXM, through the Community Radio Fund of Canada. It is distributed through Native Voice One, The Native American Radio Network. Words and Culture is produced by Kim Wheeler. Kaylen Belair is our audio engineer and editor.

Multiple Speakers [00:27:45] Hamiyaa. Yammi! K’achu naohdá nǫ́. Halakas'la. Kitakitamaatsinyo’pau, we’ll see you later. [music fades out]