A summer camp where heritage is a survival skill
Program draws on Indigenous tradition to support at-risk youth
TROUT CREEK, ONT.— Suicide isn’t a topic you expect to hear a lot about at summer camp, but for the young campers at Niigan Mosewak, it’s high on the agenda alongside s’mores, smudging and latenight lacrosse games.
“I lost my dad to suicide in 2007,” Angel Armstrong, now 18, says quietly. “It was a difficult time, especially as I was more of a daddy’s girl growing up.”
Armstrong is from the Nipissing First Nation. She’s one of the youth mentors at Niigan Mosewak, a weeklong culture camp for at-risk Indigenous youth. It runs three times a summer at Spirit Point, a wilderness academy and camp outside of Trout Creek, a half-hour’s drive from North Bay.
The camp is run by retired Ontario Provincial Police sergeant George Couchie, who helped create Niigan Mosewak — which means “moving forward” in Ojibwa —12 years ago as a way to help address the suicide and substance abuse crises that affect many of Ontario’s First Nations communities.
Eight years ago, Couchie saw Armstrong was still struggling with the death of her father, and invited her to come to the camp even though she was technically a year too young.
Since then, she has become one of its brightest lights, he said, someone the younger kids turn to when they need support.
“Whether it’s 2 a.m. or the middle of the day, we hear everyone’s stories.” Armstrong said.
Multiple studies suggest that suicide and self-injury are among the leading causes of death for Indigenous people in Canada. In northern Ontario, the death toll has been at crisis levels for years.
“I’d say all kids in Aboriginal communities are high risk,” Couchie said. “When you look at the drug problems, the murdered and missing women, the dropout rate, whatever.
“Any kid who’s having troubles through high school or in the justice system, they get identified and recommended for the camp.”
The camp is funded by Ontario’s Ministry of Children and Youth Services and supported by police officers from the OPP, the RCMP, the Anishinabek Police Services and the North Bay Police.
The involvement of police is critical, Couchie said, because teachers and police are the two people most likely to interact with troubled kids.
Along with building relationships, the camp also focuses heavily on connecting campers to their Indigenous culture.
“People say, ‘Oh, you run a summer camp for kids,’ but it’s more than just swimming,” Couchie said. “It’s about learning about their culture and their self-identity.”
Each day starts with a ceremonial smudge and a group conversation about topics ranging from drugs and alcohol to the effects of residential school, to suicide and mental health. Then there are afternoon activities that focus on teaching traditional skills like drum-making and building sweat lodges.
On a recent Tuesday, the circle discussion focused on the effect of drugs and alcohol. As a ceremonial sharing stone passed from camper to camper, boxes of tissues also made their way around the circle.
One camper fled in tears almost as soon as the discussion started. Immediately, Armstrong was out the door behind her, wrapping the younger girl in her arms. Another girl spoke of finding her friend overdosing on a bathroom floor with foam coming from her mouth.
“I tried to get her to throw up, but it didn’t work. She died on that bathroom floor,” the young girl says, sobbing.
Athird spoke about the effect of her brother’s alcoholism on her family.
“He got angrier and angrier,” she said.
“We were best friends, but he stopped talking to me.”
After one particularly violent episode that ended with the kitchen table in splinters, her parents kicked him out to live on the street, she said.
Campers hugged each other for support.
Once everyone had a chance to speak, a bowl of tobacco was passed around the room. Everyone grabbed asmall handful with their left hand — “because it’s closest to your heart,” Couchie explained — and deposited the offerings in the sacred fire. Then came a cleansing smudge and soon the campers were back outside, laughing and playing games.
The campers’ resilience was impressive. The hugging and support didn’t go unnoticed.
“In a lot of Aboriginal families, people didn’t learn how to show physical emotion,” Couchie says. Like the loss of culture and traditions, it is just one of the legacies of Canada’s assimila-
“I tried to get her to throw up, but it didn’t work. She died on that bathroom floor.” YOUNG GIRL TALKS ABOUT WATCHING HER FRIEND OVERDOSE
tion policies such as residential schools.
It was true for Armstrong’s family once as well. But since she’s started coming to the camps at Spirit Point, her connection to her culture has strengthened alongside her confi- dence and poise.
“It made me realize how important it is to keep connected to our culture in our everyday lives,” she said. “That’s how we survive. It’s how our whole nation is able to survive. It’s how we’re going to remain here.”