Year in review: hearing hard truths about First Nations farmers

[cropgrower]

100% garbage CC , their is no law in this country stoping first nations folk working ,makeing money buying property same as all the rest of us have done , in fact they are further ahead by getting a free house to start with , i left school started with notting , built up a buisness back in 80s when intrest was near 20% , was also refused money to borrow when starting out , sold everything bought my own farm , you give them your farm or whatever you have and if you feel that is what shud be done

[chuckChuck]

They weren't even allowed to succeed as farmers on their own land.

When land claims are settled and compensation paid out you should be quiet.

[Sheepwheat]

You start, chuck. Give your land to the Indians to farm Be an example, be the first.

[chuckChuck]

From the Manitoba Cooperator

Year in review: hearing hard truths about First Nations farmers
Digging into the history of oppression and neglect of Indigenous farmers on the Prairies a heartbreaking but necessary endeavour

By Geralyn Wichers

Published: 20 hours ago

“They said agriculture is going to be your new buffalo. That’s how you’re going to feed yourselves,” Robert Maytwayashing told me.

By ‘they’ he meant the Canadian government, many years ago.

Maytwayashing is a former cattle farmer from Lake Manitoba First Nation, and he’s worked in multiple advocacy, leadership and cultural training roles.

Farming went way back in his family, but they didn’t call it that, he said. It was simply raising food anyway they could.

Until the late 1950s, there was no point in farming above subsistence level, he said. If Indigenous people wanted to sell cattle or butcher for food, they had to get permission from the Indian agent. The proceeds or meat went to the agent, who distributed them as he saw fit.

“So what was the sense of busting your butt year-round when you weren’t even allowed to reap the benefits?” Maytwayashing asked me.

This year, I dug into the history of Indigenous farmers on the Prairies and their relationship with the federal and provincial governments.

The more I read, and the more I spoke with farmers and former farmers like Maytwayashing, the more it seemed clear that — after telling First Nations to farm — the Canadian government did almost everything it could to make it impossible.

What’s worse, thanks to those historical decisions, it’s still remarkably difficult for many First Nations people to make a living by farming.

Case in point: I spoke to Derrick Gould, who raises horses and cuts and sells hay on Pinaymootang (Fairford) First Nation.

There used to be dozens of farmers there. Gould related a family history of how, in the early 1960s, the Fairford Dam opened, water came up the river, and cattle just floated away.

Apparently, the province hadn’t considered the dam’s effects on Pinaymootang residents or bothered to warn them the water was coming. A 1990s-era study I found said the flooding rendered grain fields and hay lands useless, either because of moisture or because of salts brought to the surface.

When Gould was a teenager, he cut hay with an ancient tractor and implements and pitched hay by hand into a wagon.

Because he lives on a reserve, he doesn’t own his land or his house, so he doesn’t have much to use as collateral on loans. Gradually he saved enough money, got small loans — the bank wouldn’t loan him more than $20,000 at a time — and upgraded his equipment bit by bit. He also built a cow-calf herd.

Not much has changed in this regard. It’s still very difficult for First Nations farmers to get loans. Farm Credit Canada is working to make it easier, Shaun Soonias, director of Indigenous relations, told me. It didn’t sound like they were close to a solution.

In 2003, the BSE crisis hit the cattle industry. It was no different for Gould and other Indigenous cattle farmers. But unlike many producers off-reserve, Gould and many other First Nations farmers didn’t get financial aid from government programs.

[Frozen out: BSE-era relief programs a case study in how Indigenous farmers fall through the cracks

Gould said he was told he couldn’t participate in provincial aid programs, and when he spoke with federal officials, they said there was nothing for him. Gould lost his herd.

I spoke with David Natcher, a researcher at the University of Saskatchewan who said — based on a study he and other researchers did in Saskatchewan — that Gould’s experience was the rule, not the exception.

Of 33 producers his team spoke to, only one had received financial aid during the BSE crisis. The rest had either not heard of the programs or had been told they weren’t eligible. I found the same pattern in Manitoba.

The federal and Manitoba governments told me First Nations farmers were eligible for many of the aid programs. One even had a specific intake process for them. I tried to learn who had responsibility for helping Indigenous farmers during the crisis but couldn’t figure it out.

This may be the crux of the issue. No one knew who was responsible. No one took responsibility. No one followed up. Did they even know farmers existed on reserves? Gould told me a federal official he’d spoken to wondered aloud if there were First Nations farmers on reserves.

To me, this anecdote bears a sharp sting of historic irony. A federal official, representative of the body that told First Nations to embrace agriculture, was surprised to find an Indigenous farmer. It was heartbreaking to learn that neglect and bad information stamped out farms that had, to that point, survived so much hardship.

Particularly haunting to me was that no one even noticed.

It’s not for me as a journalist, or the wider agriculture community, to dictate to Indigenous peoples what would best serve their farmers.

I believe, however, that it’s incumbent on us to challenge our own preconceived notions.

Sarah Carter’s Lost Harvests: Prairie Indian Reserve Farmers and Government Policy is a great primer. It may be bit tough to find a hard copy, but it’s also available as an e-book.

For a shorter read, 21 Things You May Not Know About the Indian Act, by Bob Joseph is a slim volume that touches on policies that affected farmers. It’s also available as an audiobook.