by Jane Whalen
The 2010 Quality of Life Index boasted that Canada’s “health care and living standards are among the highest in the world.” Ask your average Canadian and they would probably agree. Ask an Aboriginal person and you would be in for quite a shock.
1930s TB Association Billboard in the Maritimes
Third world conditions exist in Canada – what an outrageous claim to make about the country ranked 9th best place to live in the entire world. When you consider the unacceptably high tuberculosis (TB) rates among the country’s Aboriginal populations, this claim is not outrageous, but instead, the cold hard truth. Recent headlines from The Globe and Mail (here and here) warn of the epidemic rates of TB in Native communities (31 times higher) and Inuit communities (186 times higher). What is most deplorable about this reality, however, is the fact that the government has been aware of this crisis for more than a century.
Why, you might ask, is this a government problem? Firstly, the government’s legislative responsibility to its ‘Indian wards’ was clearly outlined in the 1867 BNA Act (which placed Indians and Indian land under federal jurisdiction), the 1869 Gradual Enfranchisement Act (which contained a provision for government aid to sick and destitute Indians), the 1876 Indian Act and subsequent amendments (which defined who an ‘Indian’ was and their relationship with the government), and finally, the ‘medicine chest clause’ in Treaty No. 6 (which promised aid should the Indians be overtaken by any pestilence or general famine).
Secondly, and most importantly, the history of colonialism in this country has relegated Aboriginal peoples to a position as ‘citizens minus’; a position where systemic poverty, poor sanitation, and a lack of adequate medical care have allowed a 19th century disease to wreak havoc in 21st century Aboriginal communities.
Working in church, provincial, national, and international archives over the last 3 years, I can attest to the wealth of documentation that connects policymakers to the spread of tuberculosis in Aboriginal communities. The criminal disregard of government officials over the last century is undeniable: Continue reading
The content of history textbooks and curriculum is an important factor in the political socialization of succeeding generations of students. This study of representative classroom textbooks authorized for use in Ontario at three distinct eras of the 20th century shows how the main lines of interpretation have shifted over time. During the pre-World War II era, the persistent underlying tone was one of reverence for Canada’s connection to Britain. By mid-century, the main theme was Canada’s bilingual dualism within North America. As the end of the 20th century loomed, the textbook authors were focusing much more on previously marginalised groups within the Canadian multicultural mosaic. Each era produces its own historical narrative, but within the school context, an authorized interpretation impacts the beliefs of the generation to follow. The ultimate goal must be to nurture democratic citizens of the global future with a sure understanding of their own national identity.
“What does a queer, sadomasochistic philosopher have to do with the study of Canada’s past?” This is the question I ask students at the beginning of my first-year survey course on Canadian history. Over the years, colleagues have suggested that first-year undergrads aren’t ready for Foucault. But experience tells me that not only are many of Foucault’s ideas readily translatable in the classroom, but that many first-year students, not always convinced that the study of Canadian history might have some connection to their present, eagerly grasp onto them. This past week was a case in point.
What if my supervisor disagrees with what I write? What if someone in the community sends me a nasty email? What if the editor ignores my article?