After our quick and intense foray into the history of plight of the Indigenous population of the Americas, I was left with a sense of my own ignorance. The 12 hours spent in our workshop gave me the desire to learn more. I was also left with a mild sense of guilt which in turn made me a little resentful.  A rollercoaster course.

My guilt, of course came from being white. The resentment, because I don’t think I should feel guilty for the sins of my fathers. This is a common issue when it comes to trying, as a person of European lineage, to right the atrocities of the past.

When it comes to the issue of treaties, the obvious solution is to make certain that those treaties are upheld and honoured. Each person’s individual contribution to this cause must vary. One may decide to be an attorney specializing in land rights, or, like myself, one could simply be aware, and willing to spread the word. Yes, I drink only fair trade coffee, I don’t eat meats and I don’t buy furs - not because its cruel to kill animals, but because of capitalist processing practices that make it distasteful to me. Not everyone can devote their lives to this cause, in order for our energies to be used wisely, it is important to pick one or two causes and fight for them, while remaining respectful of any other causes. No disrespect intended then, but why shouldn’t I fight for gay rights, and women’s issues, while someone else more qualified fights for the Indigenous cause.

The issue of feeling responsible for the colonialization, and other despicable atrocities is another thing altogether. I never even entertained the possibility that I might be personally responsible for this until we were told the other day that, essentially, if we weren’t part of the solution, we were part of the problem. In other words, if we did nothing to fix things, we were just as responsible as the blatant racists we like to point to when we claim to be completely unprejudiced. So, suddenly, if I am to take this to heart, I am racist, and I am responsible for the continuance of the deterioration of native language and the culture by virtue of doing nothing to fix it.

Resentfulness overcomes me when I hear this because though the accusations fly, no option is given... there is nothing I can do to change it. I cannot overthrow capitalism, nor would I want to. It’s too late for that. One can say, "Boycott IRVING!!!" but if we succeeded in shutting him down, 80% of New Brunswick would die along with him. People would lose their jobs, and their livelihoods. Some of those people would be Indigenous people. Stopping capitalism would be akin to a form of genocide.

I also resent feeling that I am a poacher on someone else’s land. I was born here, if this is not my land.... what is? Back in Ireland, my people were once tribal. In this new world, the only way I can feel any connection with my ancestors is to adopt a somewhat Pagan lifestyle. This, I have done. I celebrate the earth, not with Native American ceremonies, but with ceremonies nonetheless thanking the earth for all she has given us. And yet, I’m made to feel like a genocider while my tribe no longer exists at all, nor are they barely acknowledged as having existed. "My people" have been reduced to fairytales, and who knows for certain what my ancestor’s language was?

I guess what I’m left with at the end of all this is a feeling of hopelessness. I do what I can, within the confines of my lifestyle. I don’t believe that insulting people is the way to change their minds, so I do not choose to meet with governmental leaders - that I leave to those who are good at it. I cherish the earth, and the land on which I live, I share with others, and most importantly, as a teacher, I try to be respectful, and to talk about why I live the way I do. I am a good person, and yet by some accounts, a genocider. For this I feel helpless.