Reflections from Colville Lake: A CLA Intern's Perspective

Queen's University law student and CLA intern Jordan Sewell has been interning with the Behdzi Ahda First Nation in the NWT.  Read his thoughts on the community and his work:

The Chief came by my office in May, catching me with a full Kleenex tissue stuffed and fluttering from my nose. The air is so dry in Colville Lake’s polar desert that, on my first three mornings, I had woken up with streaming nosebleeds. His name is Richard Kochon, and he stopped by this morning to meet me, shake my hand, say hello.  We talked about where I’ve come from and what I am doing here.

“Working on the community's self-government proposal is something very important.  Something better for the people.  The federal and territorial governments want to take control of things and it is not good for us.  It is good to have you here."

“What are they trying to control?” I asked.

“Oh, housing. Resources. Gas and oil and wildlife. The way they deal with our youth and the jails. They put them into the jails and they come back worse because they become dependent on the government giving them everything in the jails. Their food and shelter and clothes. And they come back worse. We want to put them out on the land so they can trap or hunt or fish. You know, so they can learn to take care of themselves. The government puts them in the jails and they stay dependent on their parents forever. And it’s much worse for the people.”

“Are they being incarcerated for violent crimes?”

“No, nothing like that,” he responded. “Some years ago, there was a woman in our community with cancer.” He tapped his palm to his chest. Lung cancer.  “She went out with some people into the Barren Lands.”

“To hunt?” I asked.

“No, just to be out on the land. She goes out. And she comes back. And do you know what? Her cancer is gone.”

Normally, I am politely and silently skeptical about such stories but he went on.

“The land is so powerful. It has all that our people need. It is full of caribou and musk-ox and moose and little fish ducks, we call them, and great-big-whitefish.” Richard opened his arms at full length and lightly shook them in the air. “And the lakes are so beautiful when they sparkle. The water out here is like white gas. When we go out on a hunt for seven days, ten days, we come back and we all feel different. Not the same. The land does something that improves us. It is very powerful.” I smiled inwardly at the allure of his words. Nobody before has spoken to me with such shy conviction about things so grand. I believed his cancer story.

He stopped and laughed. “But I’m just using my words to tell you about it all. You will have to come out with us to see it.”

“I would love that.”

The Chief stood up and adjusted his pants. I held out my hand for him to shake. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Richard.”

“Oh, you too. You too.” And he walked out. I smiled. I like Richard.

About an hour later, a younger fellow – likely in his thirties – with a D’Artagnan moustache and a baseball cap poked his head out through my door. “Hello,” I invited.

“Are you the new Assistant Band Manager?”

“No no, that’s just what it says on my door. I’m a law student working here over the summer.”

“Ah! I’m Ryan.” He grabbed a seat and sipped his little coffee.

“What do you do here in Colville Lake?”

“I’m a water treatment operator. Used to be a heavy equipment operator but hated it. Don’t like getting my finger nails dirty. So I went to school.”

“Aurora College, right?”

“Yeah. Went on down to Yellowknife to learn how to treat the water. Was there for a couple years or so. Didn’t like it there neither. Too much traffic. Too much noise.”

I laughed. “Too much traffic?! I’m from Toronto and you haven’t seen traffic.”

Ryan’s eyes burst. “Toronto!? Jeez… What a crazy place that must be. I went to Ottawa in December and January. Just a couple winters ago. I know it’s not like Toronto or nothing but I’d never seen so many people in all my life! And then we went over to… uh… what’s that really big green building they have there in Ottawa?”

I think I have been caught up with the garbage and the criminally expensive groceries and the disembodied caribou parts on the road and the mysterious foul smell outside my trailer to really see the charm of this place. It seems to be full of humble, unpretentious, comforting people who have no need to get caught up our southern razzmatazz, people who really don’t want for anything beyond their land, the last amazing people living a real bush life.

“That’s the Parliament. It’s made of copper which turns green over time with exposure.”

“That Parliament must be ancient then! Wow. Anyway, I’m happy to be back up here in Colville Lake.”

“Me too.” I tell him. “Me too.” That day, I finally felt I was here to work on something tremendous.
 

Exploring the land!