A place of hope
On September 15th 2024, we welcomed Robert Macdonald of the Calgary Food Bank, who spoke to us about the history of the Food Bank and its ongoing, essential work. He reflected on the power of partnerships, how collaboration with other organisations multiplies outcomes and meets complex needs.
The reading was from Exodus: the story of the Israelites in Egypt after Joseph, of the baby Moses in the basket. In her reflection, Rev. Sheena spoke about the women changemakers in this story. The midwives, the baby’s female relatives, even Pharoah’s daughter, each took action against the cruelty of a state afraid of the refugees it was exploiting. These women’s actions strengthened and made space for each other’s resistance, even if they were not consciously in “partnership”. They simply heeded the call to act, to protect, as best they could.
Our Christian faith tradition invites us to action against systems that oppress, just like those women did. Rev. Sheena ended her reflection with a tribute to Lois Wilson, who died last week. Lois’s ministry was based upon 2 key questions: “What’s happening in the community? And what can I do about it?”. She left us with an invitation to be curious, to really listen.
On Wednesday, Carey and I joined a group from Knox in meeting Elder Saa’kokoto of the Blackfoot Confederacy. The straight line from Rev. Sheena’s Sunday challenge to be curious, to listen, was completely obvious! And, what I heard was, for me, something totally new.
I spent 2 months on a reservation in 2023, in BC, working with that First Nation’s government. It was a place afflicted with inadequate housing, fentanyl and alcohol addiction, water-shortages, an exodus of its youth, including its most able, to Vancouver. It was the most harrowing experience of my professional life, despite my decades of work in developing, post-colonial environments. It gifted me a profound understanding of my privilege, which I exercised, to my shame, by leaving. Because I could.
It also left me scarred and scared, unwilling to engage too closely in Reconciliation work, well aware of the trauma and potential for violence involved. I confront my privilege in my ability not to engage. Simply put, I fail Rev. Sheena’s challenge to ask “What can I do about it?” What I want to do, (what I have already done), is run away and hide.
But, listening to Elder Saa’kokoto, I heard a different story. He spoke of how the Blackfoot of Alberta took back control of their governance. How they reshaped the “politics of failure” imposed upon them, passing their own election code that created the possibility for nation-building.
He spoke of his work in schools, where Blackfoot is spoken, his graphic novels, his play/theatre workshops, his teaching on the land.
He spoke of land under irrigation (30,000 hectares), potato crops sold to McCain’s and likely in our freezers…
I know it is not my place to want hope in the work of Reconciliation. As a “settler”, I am part of the notionally “winning side”, of the oppressive system. Hope should be reserved for those who have suffered and been oppressed. Nevertheless, listening to Elder Saa’kokoto, it was hope he gave me.
For me, before action, before listening, resistance comes from a place of hope: the belief that a difference can be made. For the first time in a long time when thinking about Reconciliation, I believed that might be true.
Submission by Karen Harrison
