Volunteer Rangers on lookout for suicide
‘MAKES YOU FEEL PRETTY HELPLESS’
As darkness falls over the Wapekeka First Nation in northern Ontario, the flood lamps go on at the outdoor rink — not because a game is about to be played, but to bathe the nearby woods with a bit of light in the hope it will deter young people who might be thinking about sneaking in to harm themselves.
About the same time, small teams of uniformed Canadian Rangers — a sub- group of the Canadian Armed Forces reserve that serves northern and isolated communities — fan out across the fly- in village carrying flashlights and radios, ready to assist if a report comes in about a suicidal youth.
Their job is not to intervene, just to be the eyes and ears for local police and mental-health professionals. But each ranger is equipped with a firstaid kit and knife — just in case they need to cut down a child who might be found hanging from a tree.
“It’s really hard to put into words. I don’t think you can get it across to people to understand what we see and what this community is going through,” said Warrant Officer Barry Borton, a Canadian Army instructor, who flew in on Sunday to help oversee a team of about 20 Ranger volunteers. “To be here, it’s something else.”
The arrival of the Rangers in the Oji- Cree community of 430 people comes on the heels of an emergency declaration by the Wapekeka First Nation chief and band council last week.
Three pre-teens have died by suicide this year in the community, located about 600 kilometres north of Thunder Bay. The latest happened on the night of June 13 when a 12- year- old girl hanged herself underneath an awning at the community rink.
The Nishnawbe Aski Nation, which represents 49 First Nations across northern Ontario, including Wapekeka, has recorded 14 suicides so far this year — 10 by hanging. Six of the individuals, including the three in Wapekeka, were between the ages of 10 and 14.
“We’re happy they’re here. They’re needed,” Joshua Frogg, a Wapekeka First Nation spokesman, said Wednesday of the Rangers, most of whom are aboriginal.
“Everybody’s worried about their children, checking if they’re in their rooms, sleeping and OK. We needed help with that. … We don’t really like calling for outside help; we like to take ownership of our issues and resolve them. We just don’t have the resources.”
Volunteer Rangers from the nearby community of Kitchenuhmaykoosib Inninuwug ( or “KI”) started arriving early last week to help with nightly patrols, which typically go from 10 p. m. to 5 a.m.
The Rangers, in red hoodies and baseball caps, patrol streets and wooded areas. If they encounter a young person, they will casually chat them up to get a read of how they’re doing. If they’re in obvious distress, the Rangers will call in crisis-support workers with the Nishnawbe Aski Nation or police.
“It’s been hard,” said Sgt. Spencer Anderson, one of the Rangers. “You feel tension when you enter the community. … Not knowing what to expect.”
This past Sunday and Monday, Borton and another instructor from CFB Borden, plus 13 Rangers from outlying communities, flew in to provide additional support. It didn’t take long for the crisis to present itself, Borton said.
As he entered the local school Sunday evening to set up a command post, he observed police talking to a girl in the nursing station who had apparently tried to commit suicide.
Moments later, another girl darted into the bushes behind the school. Members of a local citizen “security force” chased after her, apparently concerned she, too, might try to harm herself.
“Me and ( the other warrant officer) were standing there looking at each other wondering, ‘ What did we get into here?’” Borton recalled.
Later that night, as they patrolled the village, they were alerted to a high- risk, young male who had left his home. They needed to get eyes on him fast.
“It’s not something I’ve experienced before. I’ve done a lot of ( search- and- rescues). That’s systematic; we have a game plan ahead of us,” he said. “Stuff like this, it changes second by second.”
Because of the sheer numbers of people on patrol that night, they were able to steer the young man away from the woods and surround him within a half- hour. “Boxed him in,” Borton said.
On Tuesday morning, Borton says the crisis co- ordinator with the Nishnawbe Aski Nation showed him a bucket containing ropes and blades that were being turned in by community members, some as young as eight years old.
“I’ve done eight months in Iraq with the UN and seen some pretty horrible stuff. To see something like that in my own country, I never thought I’d live to see a day where a community is suffering so much,” he said.
“Makes you feel pretty helpless.”
Lieut.- Col. Matthew Richardson, Borton’s commanding officer, said he could hear the stress in Borton’s voice over the phone.
“This is not one of our general tasks, not one of our missions. … It isn’t generally a mental-health type scenario. This is totally different to us,” he said.
Over the next several days, some of the Rangers will be involved in something more familiar to them — putting on a daytime youth program. Activities will focus on living off the land — pitching tents, chopping wood, building fires, and fishing.
“Our job is to get the kids out, get their mind off what’s going on in the community, learn something, do something fun,” Richardson said.
The Rangers acknowledge that what they are doing on the ground now is simply a “stop-gap” measure — something to buy the community some time until longer-term solutions can be developed.
A Health Canada spokeswoman said Wednesday the agency sent a letter of commitment on May 9 to the Wapekeka chief to provide $ 380,000 annually ( until 2019) to support four youth mental health workers in the community. Those workers are now in place, she said.
Since April, Health Canada has also provided close to $1 million to support community-health programs.
Community members can also access a toll-free Health Canada helpline that provides culturally appropriate crisis counselling, the spokeswoman said.
Ontario’s Ministry of Indigenous Relations and Reconciliation, meanwhile, said it committed $ 50,000 last week for recreation equipment and wilderness supplies for youth in the community. They are also reviewing a proposal with the federal government to build a youth centre.
Last May, the province announced over $ 200 million over three years to provide more culturally appropriate health services for indigenous people in the north.
It’s not clear how long the Rangers will remain. Borton says it’ll probably be a while.
“We won’t stop until we’re told from higher up or the risk goes down, which I really don’t see happening anytime soon.”
STUFF LIKE THIS, IT CHANGES SECOND BY SECOND.