THE WAY FORWARD
Efforts have begun to help Indigenous athletes find a way forward toward success
First Nations basketball player Alan Spoonhunter is knocking on the door of elite athletics — he plays on the provincial hoops team, as well as with the St. Joseph high school team. But First Nations athletes can face formidable barriers to success.
Personally, I don’t really see any barriers I just play my game. Anything else, I just leave it behind.
He’s smooth, that Alan Spoonhunter.
Run his sneakered feet onto the hardwood, and watch him play basketball: Shooting range, court vision, and a knack for distribution packed into a long-limbed, six-foot-four body.
“(Basketball is) literally my everything,” says Spoonhunter, a guard. “If I’m not at practice or school, I’m in my room watching basketball videos. I’m dribbling. I try to go to the gym as much as I can. Everything’s kind of based around basketball — even the way I eat. It’s all about sports and being in the best shape I can be in.”
The Grade 11 St. Joseph student is also steeped in his First Nations ancestry.
“I carry it. It’s who I am,” he says. His dad, Alan Spoonhunter Sr., was a fine player. Alan Sr. played junior college ball in the United States, then bounced across the border to play university hoops in Lethbridge, where he finished fourth in Canada West scoring with 21.5 points per game in 200203 while earning second-team allstar honours.
Alan Jr. lived with his dad on a U.S. reserve for a few years, and that’s where he switched his allegiance from hockey to basketball. He’s a provincial team member, and wants to be a better player than his dad.
He’s raised by a single mom, Heidi Gravelle, who is the director of the White Buffalo Youth Lodge. Her job, under the Saskatoon Tribal Council umbrella, puts her in close contact with Indigenous kids who — like her son — have big athletic ability, but without his supports.
“As much as I’m sure I annoy the crap out of him, having that family support and being able to be pushed, but also supported mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually ... it’s huge for him,” she says.
“I work in the inner city, and a lot of our First Nations kids who would be amazing athletes have zero support. I do what I can as a single mom to save every penny I can, to make sure my boys get to the things they want to do, whether they’re good at them or not. It’s giving them the opportunity. And unfortunately, some of our kids don’t get that opportunity, which is why I work in the field I do.”
Spoonhunter is knocking on the elite-level door, which has proved incredibly hard for Indigenous players to walk through. He’d love to play collegiately, he says, just like his father did.
“I have to get in the gym, and keep proving I’m better than the other players who are trying to get to the same place I’m going.”
The question is how to get more First Nations youth into elite-level sport, because right now, talented athletes are getting left behind.
Bob Fawcett presides over the Kinsmen Inner City Hockey League, which provides free organized hockey for underprivileged Saskatoon kids. They supply everything from equipment to travel, while making school attendance a condition of playing. They’ll run 240 kids through the program this year.
He’s involved with a similar track and field program.
“There’s some out there who have some real natural talents,” Fawcett says. “But as they get older, it’s tougher to keep it up.
“Just look at the economic barriers. Even the sports that aren’t as expensive to participate in, there’s all sorts of extras they need to be able to fund. You need the proper clothing to participate, you need to be able to get to practices and games. Transportation is a big barrier for a lot of these kids. If you go to tournaments, you need extra money. It’s all part of it.
“There used to be a First Nations tournament at Jemini Arenas every spring, and when I first started scouting for (the WHL’s Kelowna Rockets), I’d go out and watch that. I’d see some really talented young kids from northern Saskatchewan who never had an opportunity to play in a regular minor-hockey system. And for the most part, those kids are going to grow up unnoticed. So many things affect whether or not they’re going to be able to play.”
Fawcett remembers one hockey player, in particular — flying over the ice, better than everybody else in the Kinsmen league.
The boy told Fawcett that he’d previously played in Saskatoon’s Tier 1 peewee division.
“He had tremendous skills, and I asked him why he was there, because one of the rules in our league is you can’t play in both the minor-hockey system and in the Kinsmen league,” Fawcett says. “He told me bluntly, frankly, that the only reason he wasn’t back playing on that team was his parents could no longer afford it.
“That was a sad story, because this kid was a very talented hockey player at 12 years old. He was a great character kid, didn’t show off, didn’t try to be something the other kids couldn’t be. He mixed with them; he passed to other kids so they could score goals. I just felt sorry for the young fellow, and if I had the money myself ... I probably would have said, ‘We’ll get you back into the minor hockey system.’ But you get him back, pay his registration fees and his equipment, and how does he get to games? Maybe that was the barrier he was facing; maybe his family didn’t have a vehicle to get him to games and practices.”
Mark Arcand, Chief of the Saskatoon Tribal Council, has long worked in the area of First Nations sports. Before becoming chief, he was the sports youth culture and recreation worker at Muskeg Lake for eight years.
To ease financial barriers within the community, Arcand got himself certified as a coach in several sports — volleyball, softball, badminton, hockey, lacrosse. From there, he could implement programs, and work on growth.
Arcand approached the University of Saskatchewan recently with an idea: Bring aspiring Indigenous athletes onto campus for a lengthy Sunday session and let them see what it takes to get to the next level — everything from nutrition to drills to workout plans.
The university liked the idea. It ran its first session last month — Youth Leadership Through Sports, they call it, geared for kids aged 10 to 14. More gatherings are on the way.
“There’s kids who fall into cracks through drugs and alcohol, through racial discrimination, through lack of supports: Financially, personally, whatever it is,” Arcand says. “Those are the cultures we have to change. How do we support kids through any type of situation they have?
“It doesn’t have to be making it to the pros; it’s getting to that next level so they can become productive citizens, contribute to the economy, have good jobs. Sports is for life.”
Arcand points to the four Thompson brothers, who play in the National Lacrosse League and work extensively with First Nations youth. They came off the Onondaga First Nation in New York state.
“They’re our people. We can relate to them,” Arcand says. “It’s a bona fide check mark — to say that if he can do it, I can do it. That goes for anybody, of any race, in any culture. But it’s the fact of the matter that in First Nations, we’ve kind of had it rough for a while. It’s changing that culture, and saying, ‘We can do this if we put our minds to it, and how do we do this?’
“Whether they become a professional hockey player, or excel at the university level, those are accomplishments we have to celebrate and recognize. What did it take to get there? How hard was it? That’s why we’re starting this program at 10 years old — they can see they don’t have to be scared of the university when they get there.
“If I can knock down the cost of a personal trainer to get that kid there, get him excited about school and education and everything else, it’s a win-win for the economy, for everybody. That individual will able to buy his own house, buy his own car, he won’t be dependent on the system that’s been imposed. He’ll be self-reliant and self-sufficient.”
Gravelle, Alan Spoonhunter’s mom, said she’s found it both “frustrating” and “tough” to see Indigenous kids fall by the wayside before they can move into the elite sports stream. What, she’s asked, is the solution?
“The barriers that have been put in place over time, with colonization and everything, that’s where you’re getting the issues,” she says. “Mental health and addictions, unfortunately, is skyrocketing. And what do you do?
“It’s providing parents the support: What can we do to help you with your kid? And showing those kids that somebody believes in you and has your back. It’s meeting basic needs, because if your grades are hurting, if you’re hungry or you’re homeless, how are you going to be a good athlete, and how are you going to succeed?
“As much effort as they’re putting out, they need somebody to invest that effort in them.”
Spoonhunter, meanwhile, pushes his way forward. He’s not one to dwell on those things; not when his quest is to play the highest-level basketball he can.
“Personally, I don’t really see any barriers,” he says. “I just play my game. Anything else, I just leave it behind.”