STORIES / Okara’shòn:’a
Indian Agents
There isn’t an Indian agent anymore. I remember them. There were different ones. The government liked to get their Indian agents from the military, see, cause it was just after the war. All these guys are coming back and need some cushy post and they’d give ‘em a few Indians to manage.
Ruling the roost
When we moved from Yellow Island to the village of Ahkwesáhsne, my dad started attending the council meetings that happened about once a month. My parents only spoke Indian. After a while, I could understand some things in English, more than my dad. So one day he said, “Come to the meeting with me and let me know what’s going on.” So we went.
Another mouth
As soon as those kids made it clear of the car, she put it in reverse and we got out of there. A few minutes later, she parked on the side of the road and she cried and cried. I just didn’t know what was happening.
Don't tell Brisebois
When I signed up for my courses, the woman from Sir George Williams College took out this ledger and said, “You’re one of the first to sign up from Indian Affairs. Here’s a voucher. Go get all of the books you need and give me the voucher when you’re done.” So, I did that. She must’ve sent the bill to Ottawa and they gave it to Brisebois.
Little paper
The Indian agent in Canada was like a monarch. He was the justice of the peace, he could hold court, pass judgment and so on. Everything had to go through him.