The moccasins in the closet
By Michelle Nieviadomy

For the first part of my life, my journey took me as far from being "Cree" as I could possibly steer myself.

Nothing fosters an identity crisis like being uncomfortable in one's own skin. I grew up as a Cree iskwesis (girl) in a predominantly white town, in the heart of bitterly cold Saskatchewan. I was different, and I knew it. And while my parents tried to embrace who I was, I tried to run far, far away from everything Indian in me.

It's not that I wasn't exposed to my Cree heritage. We would spend parts of summers at our cabin on White Bear Reserve, where I was steeped in reserve living. I vaguely remember the pow wows and sweatlodge ceremonies. Yet, though people all around me embraced these things, my ears and spirit were closed.

To me, being Cree meant being "drunken" and "poor". Why would I want to be associated with these things? I continued on my journey, Cree-less.

Michelle Nieviadomy at the Edmonton Native Healing Center's "Culture Camp"

Many moons passed by, until my journey found me at Providence College and Seminary in Manitoba. One of my professors, teaching us Canadian Aboriginal Issues, surprised and challenged me by veering repeatedly towards the topic of reserves, and the fairness of Aboriginal peoples having their own land. Something in this conversation stirred in me a feeling of injustice that I cannot explain. I had spent my maturing years stowing away anything remotely Indian, tucked out of sight. Now, a new compassion was burning in me. Somehow, during my time in that class, I began to be able to look at my people and not feel ashamed.

Fast forward a few years. I continued on with my education at King's University College in Edmonton. It was here that my "moccasins" and the other trappings of my heritage would truly, proudly emerge. I learned about the history of my people, and I understood. My time at King's changed the way I thought about Aboriginal people—but more importantly, it changed my self-perception. I knew now that I wanted to work with and "save" my people. (Oh yes, the Lord still had some tweaking and plucking to do within me!)

For the last paper in my last class at King's, I chose to write on a hidden gem called the Edmonton Native Healing Centre. I never knew of this ministry until one of my professors pointed me in its direction. Little did I know what the Creator had in store for this iskwesis!

Now six years into my career at the Healing Centre, I have come to peace with who I am as a Cree woman. I find myself walking with other folks on their own healing journeys. I am blessed to be able to laugh, to cry, to struggle, to pray, to smudge, to dance, to sing, to serve, to love and to walk with my people.

I have realized it is not about "saving" the Indian, but about restoring and reconciling our walk and our journey with the One who created us, and to live just as He created us . . . and for me, that means living as a Cree.

© 2008 Committee for Contact with the Government. All rights reserved.