We owe a big thanks to Attawapiskat First Nation and MP Charlie Angus for thrusting the little community’s housing problems into the spotlight.
In setting off a firestorm, they have sparked a much-needed discussion about remote communities and their place in the larger nation. The debate has elicited nastiness and name-calling, of course, but it has also done several valuable and positive things.
First, it has prompted average Canadians to think about their relationship with First Nations and the more distant reaches of this country.
One impression emerges. The principal players in this drama – INAC and the native leadership – are locked in a dysfunctional dance that smells of another era. For too many years, this show has been run as a two-step on a ghost ship, with the Aboriginal industry providing accompaniment. There’s a wind-up gramophone on the bar, but it’s stuck in a groove of “Do as we say / Send us more money.”
Now that we’ve had a chance to peek through the porthole, we may want to shove the door open, stop the music and drag the dancers out into the light of the currrent century. It’s time for new steps to a new tune played by a better band on a different dance floor.
Second, the debate has stimulated creative suggestions, even bold actions, from outside groups.
For instance, Indian Country Today reports that Habitat for Humanity Canada is partnering with the Assembly of First Nations to help alleviate a crisis that afflicts a hundred or more reserves. Habitat has worked on Aboriginal housing for a while, but it promises to make it a priority for the next five years.
Meanwhile, homebuilder Mike Holmes, host of HGTV’s Holmes on Homes, has stepped forward to offer advice and assistance, also under AFN’s aegis
In a CBC interview, he proffered a simple solution to the housing situation – just “stop building crap” with inappropriate materials that are subject to rot, fire and mould. He suggests cinder block and drywall. And make sure you transfer the skills to build and maintain those sustainable homes to the First Nations. It will make a world of difference.
Thirdly, the crisis has exposed major weaknesses in our economic infrastructure.
For a country that prides itself on its transportation network, it is unconscionable that 15 modular homes cannot be delivered to Attawapiskat until the ice roads are ready in January or February.
Granted, this part of Ontario is vast and harsh, but we’ve been tooling around in it since the late 1600s. Yes, the muskeg is difficult. But back in the 1930s, Ontario managed to build a railway to Moosonee through very difficult terrain. And if we look across the bay, over toward the Quebec side, we might notice there are roads that link the Cree communities almost to Hudson Bay.
There is no real excuse, either, for our inability to design and build safe, sustainable communities in a northern environment.
Just 90 kilometres inland from Attawapiskat, De Beers Canada has built a safe, warm, comfortable community for its 500 employees. How could this be? How is it that one company, headquartered in distant South Africa, can conjure up a working town from the cold northern air, while we muddle along with under-serviced shacks and a string of excuses?
We will have to do a lot better -- in planning, designing, engineering and delivering -- if we wish to be known as a northern people, and if we have any aspiration of benefiting from our rich northern lands.