First Nation women and youth challenged to gain access to equitable support and services
Amid the grim statistics, a journey of change begins
David Parkins - Jul. 04, 2009
Victoria — Maggie Chorney was sitting in a pronounced slouch, text-messaging someone throughout a brief interview. She didn't need to use her words to communicate how little she wanted to answers questions about her future.
At 18, she lives in a group home in Victoria, some distance from the Port Alberni native reserve where she was born. Statistically speaking, she is a high-risk youth: at risk of dropping out, of getting pregnant too young, of being a substance abuser, of living poor.
Last week, B.C.'s top health officer, Dr. Perry Kendall, chronicled the risks in a report about aboriginal health. The Status Indian in B.C., he found, is more likely to be infected by HIV/AIDS than other residents of B.C. Babies and toddlers are twice as likely to die. Jobs are more likely to be low-paying and hazardous.
The gap between B.C.'s aboriginals and the rest of the population is bigger by any number of measures, despite the many promises to do better. There are more aboriginal children in care and higher rates of preterm births. The rates of diabetes and stroke increasingly outpace those in the rest of the population.
Which means Ms. Chorney has more obstacles to navigate than most of her non-native peers.
But she has taken a challenge this summer, which began when she formally asked for permission to climb aboard Raven Dancer. The 11-metre-long, all-black dugout canoe drew her eye as it was backed down a ramp at the boat launch.
She and eight other urban aboriginal teenagers were gathering for their first practice for an annual event called Tribal Journeys. On July 28, they'll be among 80 canoes setting off across the Juan de Fuca Strait. Over 10 days, they'll paddle 100 nautical miles, visiting five aboriginal communities in and around Seattle, connecting with a cultural life that is often out of their reach.
“It's a healing journey. I want to give it a shot,” said Ms. Chorney, still intent on her text messages. She may not yet realize, her cellphone won't be of much use on the open waters. There's nowhere to recharge an iPod where they'll be camping either.
Sitting by her, Nicole Peyton, 15, admitted she's intimidated by the journey. “I'm scared of open water… Scared I might not be tough enough.”
To Paul Lacerte, executive director of the B.C. Association of Aboriginal Friendship Centres, what these kids at the boat launch are doing is not just about sports and fitness – it is the key to changing the trends that Dr. Kendall so chillingly laid out.
“Aboriginal people taking control of their health and well-being has a lot to do with what we eat and how much we move around,” Mr. Lacerte said.
For the last 18 months, he's been navigating government bureaucracy to obtain funding commitments for a 10-year legacy project around aboriginal sports. He's still waiting for a commitment.
“It's been shocking to me, how disconnected health and sport are,” he said. “It isn't about minor hockey, it's absolutely about health and battling obesity and diabetes.”
Jeff Charleson, 16, is a veteran among the teens assembling around the Raven Dancer – this will be his second journey.
He exudes the easy confidence of a young athlete. He's from the Port Alberni band of Hesquiaht, but is living in Victoria with his grandparents. If he just finishes high school, much less the university degree he is aiming for, he'll be beating the odds. Dr. Kendall found that an aboriginal male is more likely to drop out than finish high school on the first try.
Why is the health officer talking about education? Dr. Kendall explains in his 300-page report: “The health status of individuals is closely associated with their level of education, income, and employment.” If Mr. Charleson completes high school, he will add more than nine years to his life expectancy.
There are improvements recorded in Dr. Kendall's findings – aboriginal youth suicide rates have declined, for example. But Mary Ellen Turpel-Lafond, the B.C. Representative for Children and Youth, said the report highlights just how little the province has done to improve the lives of vulnerable children.
“This report demonstrates for the first time the importance of leadership in the school, the need to support [aboriginal] academic achievement,” she said. “He drops the big ‘R' word, the work against racism in schools. There is a phenomenal amount of work to be done.”
Like Ms. Turpel-Lafond, Grand Chief Ed John of the First Nations Summit is concerned by the lack of progress chronicled in the health report. Although he has been working with Premier Gordon Campbell on a series of initiatives to close the gaps, Mr. John isn't sure how to measure the government's commitment to change.
“Every government we've ever run into talks about financial pressures, that is what we hear all the time,” he said. “We have heard from the Premier that this is a priority now. But in amongst all the other priorities, where does this one sit? We don't have an answer yet.”