Canada entered confederation on July 1st in 1867. This is when the British Colonies of Ontario, Quebec, Nova Scotia and New Brunswick united into a federation. Then the rest of the provinces followed one by one… and now the Canadian state is celebrating "Canada 150": to the tune of $500 million dollars that aims to buy maple leaf, red and while patriotism and a giant rubber duck. Many people in the country will be celebrating "Canada Day", but for Indigenous peoples - this is a bit more complicated.

Canada is essentially celebrating their sovereignty, their own self-governance as it relates to a geographic territory. Canada's ability to be recognized as a state at an international level gives it certain benefits that our indigenous nations currently do not have. But as Indigenous peoples, we should be thinking about our own self-governance, and asserting sovereignty over our territories. How are we, as Indigenous people, going to conduct ourselves in a way that allows us to organize efficiently and effectively, in ensuring our rights and title are respected by the Canadian state? And how can our nations reaffirm and recognize other Indigenous nations as sovereign states?

Indigenous societies across this continent have been here for over 10,000 [thousand] years. So to celebrate the past 150 years as a feat of patriotism to the Canadian state, the social, economic, political structure that has displaced us from our traditional territories, is not what Indigenous peoples are celebrating. Our own political structures, legal systems, languages and knowledge systems have been decimated, to the best of the ability of the Canadian state. These celebrations are based on the ongoing removal and oppression of First Nations, Inuit and Metis people.

I'm not speaking my grandmother's tongue of Sm'algyax, and we need to be critical as to why that is? What systems have been put in place by the Canadian state to ensure that we don't live by our traditional laws and governance structures?

There is a lot of hurt that has happened in the past 150 years. The last residential school closed in 1996. Indian agents were enforcing the pass system, where we couldn't freely leave the reserve from 1885 until in 1951. We saw the potlatch ban that lasted 66 years, and tried to prevent us from practicing our cultures, our ceremonies, and our legal and economic systems. Ultimately, the state tried to keep us from practicing who we are.

We need systemic change. And what I believe we need now, more than ever, is nation building. Not Canada as a nation, but rather our Indigenous Nations. That's the only way we as Indigenous peoples are going to see transformative change. Our resilience is a testament to our strength and our unique knowledge systems. In many cases, we're not fighting for special treatment. We're fighting for basic human rights, clean drinking water, safe and affordable housing, food sovereignty in our traditional territories, educational opportunities for students on reserve, and a standard of living that doesn't increase our youth suicide rates.

Now, I'd like to invite Ryan McMahon into the conversation to chat about today, as we are now entering Canada 150.

Clothing design is a common aspect across all cultures, but fashion varies based on the season, climate, the geography and the latitude. Depending on where you are, fashion relates to land in this way. For Indigenous communities, design is unique to individual nations and territories. Clothing needs to be functional, and if you're on the east coast in Mi'kmaw territory, you're going to have different needs than if you're Woods Cree in northern Alberta, or if you're Nu-chal-nulth on the west coast of Vancouver Island.  Traditionally, based on where you are, there would be access to different mediums including leather, wool, beads, feathers and bone. But now with globalization and international trade, designers have access to all sorts of different materials.

Now, we are seeing clothing and fashion design intersect in interesting ways with Indigenous fashion design. We have Haida artist Doroty Grant designing since 1988, and Tahltan artist Alano Edzerza's Native American Apparel which has been around since 2007 and ships internationally.

Like many other forms of Indigenous artist, fashion is linked to Indigenous identity and cultural expression. But the intersection between traditional design and modern design is not as clear cut as it may seem. What designs are appropriate to wear on the runway, and what should stay with your community? What is the cultural property of communities and can be reproduced and distributed to the masses? How do we do this in a good way?

Designs place you somewhere. For myself, Tsimshian formline identifies me and where I'm from. Tsimshian ayaawx, our Tsimshain law, outlines specific protocol around what designs you can wear, and which you cannot wear. According to our ayaawx, Tsimshian people can only wear the crest designs you are born into or have the rights to wear. You wouldn't wear a crest design that isn't representative of your own crest, unless you ensure you've followed the proper process and protocols to wear such a design. This protocol is reflected in our formal institutions such as our button blanket designs and our regalia, but now is also being reflected in modern fashion, like jackets, vests, handbags, shoes, shirts and jewelry. But again, these laws are culturally specific to where I'm from.

Right now as we do this podcast, I'm wearing a copper shield necklace and copper earrings, that's a material of cultural significance to many coastal First Nations communities. A copper shield, or a hayetsk we call it in Sm'algyax, is not a pan-Indigenous symbol, but has very specific and meaningful protocols attached to this symbol in Tsimshian culture.

Now, more than ever, we have non-native people who are buying First Nations designs. There are companies like Native Northwest that are partnering with coastal First Nations artists, to make aspects of Native culture more accessible for everyday use, to a large consumer base. Up north, jewelery is very popular among non-Indigenous peoples.

In wearing aspects of Indigenous culture as symbols, I think it's interesting to think of the ways we share our culture with other cultures. Indigenous artists need to make a living, which means selling their work to buyers. In chatting with some of the Indigenous artists selling their beadwork at the Kanata Festival, this is the reality for artists.

Now I'd like to invite our two guests to join the discussion about Indigenous fashion, I'm speaking with Joleen Mitton, Ellena Neel, and Christine Spinder.

Indigenous art comes in many different forms. Every First Nation has it's own traditional style of art. Metis communities and Inuit communities have their own traditional styles of art that is specific to those communities. On the west coast, formline is one of the most recognizable styles - you'd know the design by it's iconic ovoid shapes, shown on various mediums from totem poles to jewelry to textiles.

This type of art has been developed by feasting and potlatching communities over thousands of years, and have a strict set of rules that define this style. In the Tsimshian territory, colours, crests and clan depictions are strictly regulated based on the rules set out in Tsimshian law.

But formline is not the only form of Indigenous art coming out of the west coast. Indigenous artists are now taking expression into modern practices. Artists are bending the rules and re-presenting traditional art forms in modern mediums - including theatre, film, photography, graphic design and literature. This isn't just young up and coming artists... like K'omoks artist Andy Everson's Indigenized Star Wars designs... but we have the old pro's setting the scene for innovation including the late Kwakwaka'wakw artist Beau Dick.

While we are taking expression to new forms, there are still dangers to be cautious of in the art world. The history and present environment of colonization that Indigenous peoples exist in, pose unique challenges in itself. Who owns the rights to these cultural expressions? We see issues of cultural appreciation blurring the lines of cultural appropriation: who has the right to these expressions of Indigenous design elements?

We find ourselves on the brink of Canada 150 - that's one hundred and fifty years since Canada entered confederation... to design a government that would ultimately dispossess Indigenous peoples from their lands and resources. These lands Indigenous people have occupied for upwards of 10,000 years.

Indigenous peoples have had a lot taken away: from overfishing our waters and over hunting our lands, natural resource extraction including mining and forestry, the residential school system that took our children from our homes, the child welfare system that still takes our children from our homes, and our loss of language in many parts of this continent. The thought of having Indigenous art... that has been developed over thousands of years, much much older than the history of this country… the thought of having our art taken from our hands and appropriated for the benefit of non-Indigenous communities is another example of the ongoing extractive practices of settler colonialism.

But now the conversation has changed. Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples are asking questions about who has the right to tell stories? Who has the cultural right to express Indigenous design elements in their work?

Thankfully, Indigenous artists are some of the most resilient people we have in our communities. And artists are so integral to our cultural livelihood as Indigenous peoples. Artists are the ones tasked with persevering despite these challenges. And they're doing this in all sorts of different ways, through different mediums, and with unique messages.

Before I get these artists on the mic, I first want to recognize the context for which First Nations people are now in. For over six decades… the Canadian state actively enforced a potlatch ban through the Indian Act. Ceremonies, which are an integral part of many First Nations cultures, were pushed underground from 1885 until as recently as 1951.

For those who don't know, potlatches are different than potlucks. A potluck is where you and your friends get your friends together, bring a different dish, and share a meal, while potlatches are a formal event and institution, developed over thousands of years by many coastal First Nations communities of the pacific northwest.

These events are integral to our economic system, our relationships to one another, our relationships to other Indigenous Nations, and our relationships to our respective territories. The potlatch, or feasts as they're called where I'm from, involves singing, dancing, gift giving, and of course a central part of our culture's: food.

But because of the potlatch ban, we weren't able to practice these ceremonies, including our songs and dances for sixty six years. That is entirely within our parents and grandparents generations. This is a part of the history of the past 150 years of confederation in Canada. So in channeling my inner George Erasmus, what do we have to celebrate?

We'll I'm going to channel my inner JB The First Lady and quote a line from her 2014 album Indigenous Girl Lifestyle:

we sing songs of victory,

they did not kill the indian in the child.

We sing songs of victory,

we overcame waves of genocide.

We sing songs of victory.

We are on our healing journey,  

With this in mind, what about the next 150 years? What can our future look like as Indigenous peoples? How are we going to create that change for ourselves? How can our allies make space and help us achieve our aspirations? What can our future look like in the year 21-67? And is this possible with music, art and activism?

Music/Art/Activist

Music has always been a part of our cultures as Indigenous peoples. But now we're in every genre; traditional music, hip-hop, folk, electronic, metal, jazz, classical, we're doing it all! Through technology, we can create music with few resources and project it to a massive audience! If you have a laptop and an internet connection, your stuff can be up on Soundcloud, Bandcamp, Youtube, Google Play, or Spotify. There are many different ways for us to connect with each other.

Not only is the technology available, but we are now expressing ourselves in different ways. As JB reminded me earlier today, music and spoken word is just another expression of our oral histories. Artists are creating commentary that reflects specific cultural views and experiences. The Snotty Nose Rez Kids song "The Clash of the Clans" and "Fish 'n' Rice" are two songs that, I argue, people can easily relate to from northwest. If you're from a fishing community, you know what they're talking about. And that's such a beautiful thing about music, it acts as a cultural unifier despite the diaspora of Indigenous people from our home territories.

In Prince Rupert, I'm listening to Snotty Nose Rez Kids, much like my friends in Vancouver, Toronto, Winnipeg, Lax Kw'alaams… This democratization of media and technology is creating online communities, where we can connect, collaborate, sample, remix and inspire.

Being Indigenous is political. And when you're in a position to influence people's perspectives, or ways of knowing, I find that Indigenous artists take that. They take that and use that audience to challenge negative stereotypes, and bring awareness to issues that Indigenous peoples face. Both of these artists are bringing awareness to Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, the importance of traditional foods… JB talks about reconciliation in her work, bringing up First Nations peoples and communities... on and off the album. When you're woke... you're WOKE. And that's what makes Indigenous artists so special.

Media is a prominent aspect of our culture as modern Indigenous peoples. The misconception that Indigenous peoples are primordial and stuck in the past, is the product of outdated stereotypical thinking. A critique of mainstream media is its use for assimilation of people into the "Canadian identity." This happens through private and public broadcasters, as dominant worldviews are projected to mass audiences, leaving little to no room for local Indigenous knowledge's or community based media production. The views that make it to air are passed by gatekeepers at various levels: from the editors of magazines, to executives of media conglomerates.

Indigenous peoples are appropriating media technology at a rapid rate, just like any other group of people. Last week, one of my aunties put it very succinctly: she told me that she noticed First Nations people are now getting educated, and we are combining our education with our cultures.

 With media, we are now able to use our skills to represent our different cultures: skills we learned from Youtube tutorials, skills we've learned at college or at university, even skills we learn through volunteering! We're learning skills from everywhere. We're even learning about this from our mentors… because now we are seeing more First Nations people rising to prominent positions in film, television, radio broadcasting, podcasting, photography, you name it!

With these new skills, Indigenous people can bring media creation into Indigenous communities, on reserves, to community events. I personally can't be everywhere at once, but thanks to Facebook Live, I can watch my cousins graduation ceremony and a Resist 150 demonstration at the same time.

What I love about Indigenous media, is the ability to amplify the voices of people who have not only been marginalized, but traditionally not been given the platform to speak freely. We now see Indigenous youth and elders speaking to their communities, and a broader community about topics and issues that are important to them. These conversations can reflect our cultures and perspectives, and are not limiting in the same way that media production once was.

Here to talk about media and Indigenous communities, I'm speaking with Jules Koostachin.