A group of Elders are gathered at the Wee See Nea We Gamic restaurant in Pikangikum. The tables have all been moved around and set up for a meeting. The Elders are listening to a presentation from a group of consultants assisting with the Whitefeather Forest Initiative, a sustainable forest management project spearheaded by the community.
The presentation is about jobs and training. Some of it gets quite technical.
Among this group of Elders is Pikangikum’s oldest resident, Whitehead Moose. He sits quietly, drinking his tea and attentively listening to the presenters and the subsequent Ojibway translation of what is said.
Eventually, the meeting turns to some discussion and a few of the Elders take part. Still listening is Moose, but not for long.
He quickly becomes engaged and joins the discussion, eager to share his thoughts on how the land should be used to continue to benefit the people.
Moose grew up on the land around the community of Pikangikum. He was born in 1914 at a nearby spring fishing camp.
In those days, families were still moving wherever food was available, using the rivers and lakes to get around.
To survive, hunting for deer, moose and caribou was a necessity. Tools, such as axes and knives, were all made from the Earth. Meat was hung to dry, then skinned and smoked to preserve it. Nets had to be set up in rivers to catch fish. Warm clothes and blankets were made from animal fur. Fires were lit using dry wood, without matches or lighters.
Life wasn’t easy and everyone was required to work.
The strong work habit instilled in Moose while growing up is still with him today.
At 92, he continues to keep busy with the Whitefeather Forest Initiative. He is part of a team of community Elders who have shared their extensive knowledge of the territory for the land-use planning project.
When he’s not busy with the project, Moose may be chopping wood, doing various chores at his house or driving around the reserve in a beat-up Chevy truck.
Yes. Driving.
Not only that, he uses his vehicle for a small taxi business he has run the past five years.
“I like working; it makes me feel good when I’m moving around,” Moose says in Ojibway.
“I’m still feeling good, I haven’t got diabetes, … I can still see.”
He attributes his remarkable health to his work ethic and to the fact he has always lived a traditional life, dependent on the land for his survival.
“I never knew what it was like to be lazy,” he says, noting many of the older residents in Pikangikum are just as healthy as he is.
Moose holds the traditional way of life in high esteem. He says it’s a gift from the Creator.
“That’s why we’re so strong and healthy, because of what the Creator gave us – these lands, our traditional territory.”
Moose believes younger generations need to find their way back to the teachings of the Elders. Learning to survive with the land teaches independence, he says, instead of dependence on government handouts.
“Traditional knowledge is important. That’s why I’m still here, how old I am.”
After the planet was created, everything that was put on the Earth – from animals to fish to plants – was to be used by the people, Moose says.
Plants, for example, provided people living on the land with medicines for healing.
Moose recalls getting a really sore ear when he was a boy. He went to see an Elder knowledgeable in medicines who then gathered a certain root, grinded it and put it in Moose’s ear.
“As soon as it touched my ear I felt relieved. That’s how strong the medicine was.”
The furs of animals provided clothes and blankets. Rabbit fur was the warmest and was used to make mitts, jackets and blankets. For a large blanket, up to 100 rabbits would be used, Moose says.
Always on the land, Moose never attended school; never learned to speak, read or write in English.
Despite never having received a formal education, he has always been involved in some type of business venture. For 25 years, he was a commercial fisherman. He also became one of the first store owners in Pikangikum. With his store, he owned a plane and hired a pilot to bring in goods.
Moose recalls much of his past with ease, his memory amazingly intact.
He remembers a lot of his boyhood growing up in seasonal camps around Poplar Hill, Pikangikum and other sites.
When he was a boy, adult caregivers always told him to play outside. They told him it wasn’t healthy to stay inside because of the dust particles in the air, which are visible in the rays of light that shine through a window. Playing outside in the fresh air helps make you healthy; the wind helps the lungs, he was told.
“A lot of things benefit from the wind.”
Even the trees benefit from the wind, Moose says. As the wind blows against a tree, its roots go deeper and branches grow stronger.
All the knowledge and experience Moose has gained living with the land is the reason he now devotes his time to the Whitefeather Forest Initiative. He believes the land has to be protected and the people of Pikangikum should be the ones using it.
“This is what the Creator gave us and we want to use it.”
The Whitefeather Forest, considered the traditional territory of Pikangikum, holds much sentiment to Moose.
“This area, it’s our past, our memories. If we don’t protect it, we might start losing it.”
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