GENDER AND POLITICS IN A CARRIER INDIAN COMMUNITY

By

JO-ANNE FISKE

B.Ed., The University of British Columbia 1969 M.A., The University of British Columbia 1981

A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF

THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

in

THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES

(Department of Anthropology and Sociology)

We accept this thesis as conforming

to the required standard

THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA

September, 1989

© Jo-Anne Fiske, 1989 In presenting this thesis in partial fulfilment of the requirements for an advanced degree at the University of British Columbia, I agree that the Library shall make it freely available for reference and study. I further agree that permission for extensive copying of this thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the head of my department or by his or her representatives. It is understood that copying or publication of this thesis for financial gain shall not be allowed without my written permission.

Department of Anthropology

The University of British Columbia Vancouver, Canada

September 25, 1989 Date

DE-6 (2/88) ABSTRACT

This thesis presents a study of the political processes of Stoney Creek,

Saik'uz, a Carrier Indian community in British Columbia. The primary goal is to account for the central role of women in public decision making. The focus is on the political significance of women's domestic authority, of their influence in kinship groups, of their social rank in the clan/potlatch complex, and of their roles in the elected council and the administrative structure, and of their voluntary associaticns.

The study is approached from three directions. First, women's changing socio-economic position is described and analyzed. Second, the influence of traditional culture on modern life is considered. Third, the current socio-political organization of the community is examined in relation to prevailing conditions of economic dependency. Here the focus is on the management of scarce social and economic resources and on the competition for decision-making positions.

This study argues that women's public presence is the result of three tightly interwoven factors: women's economic autonomy (which includes control over critical domestic resources); the prevailing ideology of respect for older women's knowledge and wisdom; and the socio-economic structure, in which public and private interests are essentially undifferentiated.

These factors coalesce to provide economic and cultural foundations for women's unique political strategy: the formation of voluntary associations that

ii interact successfully with the formal political structure to influence public decisions and to advance family and community interests. Women's voluntary associations compete successfully with the elected council in obtaining limited economic and political resources and provide a special forum in which women can retain and advance family honour and political fortunes.

The study also examines a number of approaches to the impact of colonization and capitalism on indigenous women. The findings refute the argument the capitalism automatically erodes the position of women in indigenous communities. They support the contrary view that in conditions of political-economic marginality, a domestic sector of production exists along side capitalist production. Because the domestic sector is organized around kinship and the creation of use-values, this mode of production protects or even enhances women's personal autonomy and social influence.

The analysis of political processes in which women are equal participants requires moving away from common assumptions of female subordination to analytical models that reveal the complex, and often contradictory, structural relations that develop between women and men as women come to occupy a variety of social positions. In seeking to understand women's central position in this community, this study points to the need for theoretical models grounded in the routines of social relations. Theoretical formulations are needed that will take into account the simple fact that women and men are visible and active in the public domain. In conclusion, it is argued that approaching women's political

iii participation through theoretical perspectives that stress female subordination obscures the relative power available to indigenous women as a consequence of ascribed rank and personal competence.

iv TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT . ii

TABLE OF CONTENTS v

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS xii

ORTHOGRAPHY xiii

CHAPTER ONE INTRODUCTION 1 The Research Problem 1 The Ethnographic Record 11 Women and Politics 20 Methodology 25 Organization 30

CHAPTER TWO SAIK'UZ TODAY 32 Introduction 32 The People 32 The Land 37 The Village 39 The Economics of Dependency 47 The Administrative Structure 50 The Political Issues . . . 54

CHAPTER THREE HISTORY OF THE SAIK'UZ WHUT'ENNE 60 Introduction 60 Aboriginal Social Organization 62 The'Uda'Dune 64 The Fur Trade 1806-1862 69 Settlement 1862-1910 72 Church and State Intervention 76 Economic Expansion and Settlement 1911-1950 80 i) Economic Diversity 80 ii) Changes in Subsistence Production 83 iii) Changes in Fur Trapping 85 iv) The Depression Years 87

v Modernization 90 i) The War Years 1939-1945 90 ii) The Post-War Years 1946-1960 91 iii) The Present 99 Summary and Conclusions 100

CHAPTER FOUR A SAIK'UZ VIEW OF HISTORY 102 Introduction 102 The Cosmological Matrix 104 i) Selection and Analysis of the Narratives 105 ii) Women in Mythology 107 iii) Rites of Passage 109 iv) Social Context 119 The Good Times and the Hard Times 126 Gender in the Political Context 141 Summary and Conclusions 145

CHAPTER FIVE WOMEN'S LIVES: DAUGHTERS, MOTHERS, LEADERS 147 Introduction 147 "A Little Girl is Not for Nothing" 148 i) Birth and Childhood 148 ii) Motherhood 154 "Unless There is a Woman" 161 Good and Strong Women 165 i) The Good Women 166 ii) The Strong Women 175 Summary and Conclusions 182

CHAPTER SIX DOMESTIC LIFE AND KINSHIP ORGANIZATION 184 Introduction 184 Welfare Colonialism 184 Household Composition 188 Family and Kinship Organization 194 i) The Family and Extended Family 194 ii) Domestic Responsibilities 196

vi The Outfit 207 i) Organization 207 ii) The Adams Outfit 220 iii) The Baptiste Outfit 226 iv) The Charles Outfit 228 v) The Daniels Outfit 231 Summary and Conclusions 236

CHAPTER SEVEN SOCIAL ORGANIZATION AND COMMUNITY LIFE 238 Introduction 238 The Clans 238 The Potlatch 245 Social Status r 249 Gender 256 Clans and Outfits 264 Voluntary Association 267 Public Events 272 Summary and Conclusions 274

CHAPTER EIGHT WOMEN AND THE POLITICAL PROCESS . 276 Introduction . '. 276 Positions of Power and Powerful People 277 The Political Units 291 i) The Voluntary Associations 291 ii) The Administrative Structure 305 Summary and Conclusions 314

CHAPTER NINE WOMEN'S SOCIO-POLITICAL STATUS: REGIONAL VARIATIONS AND CONCEPTUAL ISSUES 317 Introduction 317 Changing Social and Economic Relations 318 i) Precapitalist Gender Relations 319 ii) The Impact of Mercantile Capitalism 322 iii) Wage Labour and Women's Subsistence Production 324 iv) Contemporary Conditions 326

vii Theoretical Implications 332 i) Historical Materialism 332 ii) Cultural Explanations 341 iii) Processual Analyses 347 Conclusions 350

CHAPTER TEN SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS 352 Summary 352 Carrier Ethnography 360 i) The Past 360 ii) The Present 364 Conclusions 366

BIBLIOGRAPHY : 371

viii LIST OF MAPS

MAP 1: Indians of British Columbia 33 MAP 2: Internal Divisions of the Carrier 35 MAP 3: Indian Reserves No. 1 to 8 of Stoney Creek Band . 41 MAP 4: Fishing Sites Utilized by Women of Saik'uz 222

ix LIST OF CHARTS

CHART 1: Selected Descendants of the Referent Males and their Spouses 216 CHART 2: Core Members of the Four Outfits 217 CHART 3: The Outfits with Third and Fourth Generations and Peripheral Members 218 CHART 4: Workers at Potlatch I 252 CHART 5: Workers at Potlatch II 255 CHART 6: Holders of Potlatch Seats by Outfit 259 CHART 7: Elected Office Holders in Adams and Baptiste Outfits 281 CHART 8: Appointed and Parapolitical Office Holders 285

x LIST OF TABLES

TABLE 1: Department of Indian Affairs' Population Estimates for Stoney Creek Indian Band 1891-1920 by Five Year Averages 75 TABLE 2: Population Trends of Census Division 8, Central Interior of British Columbia 1901-1961 93 TABLE 3: Adult Population of Census Division 8, Central Interior of British Columbia 1961 by Age Group and Sex 94 TABLE 4: A List of Selected Tales from Jenness and from Fieldwork 106 TABLE 5: Number of Generations Living in Household by Marital Status of Household Head 189 TABLE 6: House Owners by Marital Status and Gender 192 TABLE 7: Presence of Dependent Children by Gender Composition of Adult Residents of Household 203 TABLE 8: Balhats Attendance by Clan and Gender 257 TABLE 9: Number of Positions Held by Elected Personnel 278 TABLE 10: Multiple Office Holders 1974-1983 287

xi ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I am indebted to the members of my dissertation committee for their painstaking guidance of this study: Dr. Robin Ridington, Dr. David F. Aberle, Dr. Michael Kew, and Dr. Thelma Sharp Cook. I have benefited greatly from Dr. Aberle's careful, incisive, and detailed commentary. Colleagues at Saint Mary's University also provided useful criticism and insights. Dr. Harold McGee read portions of earlier drafts and Professor Susan Walters gave useful advice and stimulating discussion. I wish to thank the many friends who encouraged me throughout the work and who provided numerous personal services: Pat Berringer, Terry Smith, Jan Gray, Kuldip Gill, Elena Perkins, Joanne Richardson, Joanne Sinclair, and Judith Rose. Evelyn Legare offered useful criticisms and spent many days and evenings in helpful discussions. Greg Schwann gave generously of his time and solved dilemmas with the computer. Gwynetth Matthews edited an earlier version and provided invaluable advice throughout the final draft. I am most grateful to Marie Paturel who cheerfully and patiently typed and photocopied two drafts. Linda Nieuwenstein also provided assistance with word processing and photocopying. I wish to thank the Social Science and Humanities Research Council for the doctoral fellowship 453-83-0163. Many women and men at Stoney Creek provided hours of assistance, guidance with the language and linguistic problems, and gave their time generously. They are too numerous to mention, but special thanks is due to Miss Bertha Thomas and Mrs. Cecile Patrick who kindly shared their homes with me. The staff of the band office shared their offices and assisted me in many ways. I have deliberately mentioned no names of the many women and men who contributed their life stories, historical knowledge, and personal views for fear that identifying individuals might jeopardize their privacy. My gratitude for their anonymous assistance is immeasurable. I owe a special debt to Dr. John McMullan who read and commented on each draft. Without his patience and encouragement, the study could not have been completed.

xii ORTHOGRAPHY

This study uses the orthography and pronunciation key (Walker et al. 1974:343ff) developed by Richard Walker and David B. Wilkinson of the Summer Institute of Linguistics. Variations of their renderings in The Central Carrier Bilingual Dictionary reflect dialectal differences between the people of this study, Saik'uz Whut'enne, or Stoney Creek Band, and the Stuart Lake Carrier with whom Walker and Wilkinson worked. The spellings and translations of Carrier terminology used here have been provided by women of Saik'uz who have received linguistic training from the Summer Institute of Linguistics. An example of their role in the development of Carrier linguistic materials is the literacy materials (workbook and primers) printed in 1976 by the Stoney Creek Indian Band.

Key To Pronunciation

Carrier sound English equivalent of sound

said with a stoppage in the throat a like a in father b like b in ball ch like ch in chicken ch' like ch said with a catch d like d in dog dl like dl in landlord in rapid speech dz like ds in Ned's dz same as ds said in front of mouth e like ay in say 9 like g in good gh like g said in back of mouth gw like gw in Gwen h like h in hen like i in link like j in job k like k in key k' like k said with a catch kh like k said in back of mouth kw like qu in queen kw' like qu said with a catch like I in leaf Ih resembles I in clean but not voiced m like m in moon

xiii n like n in nut ng like ng in song 0 like o in toe OO like oo in boot s like s in saw s like s said in front of mouth sh like sh in shoe t like t in tea f like t said with a catch tl like tl in throttling tr like tl said with a catch ts like ts in sits ts' like ts said with a catch ts like ts said in front of mouth ts' like ts said with a catch u like u in but w like w in wander wh like w in where y like y in young z like z in fuzz z like z said in front of mouth

xiv CHAPTER ONE

INTRODUCTION The Research Problem

I propose to examine women's political strategies in the context of gender

relations in Saik'uz, a Carrier Indian reserve of central British Columbia. Women of this native Indian band have earned a local reputation as prominent community leaders. Indeed, within Saik'uz and the neighbouring white community, female elders are said to be "in control of the reserve." Because my earlier research (Fiske 1981) confirmed the importance of female leadership in community politics but did not analyze either the contemporary social context or the specific nature of women's political participation, I have now chosen to do so. I raise three questions: What are the political strategies of female leaders? How have they come to occupy a central position within the decision-making process? What cultural, material, and social factors account for their prominence?

The prominent position that Saik'uz women hold in community affairs is especially interesting; on the one hand, it contradicts a widely-held belief that everywhere women are secondary to men (Rosaldo 1974; Ortner and Whitehead

1981), while on the other, it is consistent with the known position of women in other native societies of western North America, for example, the Tlingit of Hoonah, Alaska

(L. Klein 1975), and the Colville and Puyallup of Washington State (Green 1983:15).

It is of particular interest as well in light of the scant but contradictory literature

1 on Carrier women's traditional roles. While earlier observers reported that Carrier women routinely held decision-making positions within their settlements and clans

(Goldman 1963:358; Morice 1893:175; Jenness 1943:489; 521) and were held in general high esteem (Mclean 1932:180), they also argued that Carrier women occupied a secondary social position and were subjected to particular hardships justified by culturally prescribed rituals and physical isolation (Morice 1930:57-58;

1890:124; McLean 1932:155). In order to fulfill the goals of this study it will be necessary to provide an account of the social responsibilities and powers of Carrier women and to redress the ethnographic neglect of Carrier women by offering an account that accurately reflects their world view.

The Carrier are an Athapaskan group of central British Columbia. Traditionally, they have occupied large tracts of hunting and fishing territories stretching from the

Rocky Mountains westward to the Coast Mountain Range and lying between 53 and

55 degrees of latitude. Saik'uz is found at the centre of this region, which is connected to the periphery of Carrier territory and beyond to adjacent tribal areas with a long established network of trails.

Over the last century, Saik'uz jural authority has shifted from matrilineal clans

(which regulated marriage, resource production, and ceremonial exchange), and patrilineal village chieftainship, to a state imposed system of band chief and council.

Initially, the federal state and the Catholic church directly controlled appointments to these positions, which they restricted to men of their own choice. Democratic election of men by men displaced direct outside control by 1930, but it was not until

2 1951, with revisions to the Indian Act, that women were granted formal democratic participation.

Women have always been active in the Carrier economy and in managing the affairs of their settlements and clans. Goldman tells us that extended family units of the Algatcho were headed by the first born, female or male (Goldman

1963:358). Saik'uz elders claim that in indigenous times an extended family unit had two "bosses," the eldest male and female. They further contend that their clans were led in a similar fashion, by a "clan father" and a "clan mother." Women were engaged in subsistence activities of fishing, gathering, snaring, and later trapping for the fur trade. Today women work as wage labourers, produce the bulk of bush subsistence, and manage affairs of the community through participation in the band council, its administrative staff, and voluntary associations.

With the emergence of feminist perspectives in anthropology in the past decade, the study of women's lives and social relations is receiving greater ethnographic attention and is generating new debates concerning female-male relations. Feminist studies in particular focus on women's socio-political status, culminating in extensive efforts to measure the relative status of women vis-a-vis men in pre-industrial and contemporary social formations (for example Whyte 1978; Sacks

1979; Leacock 1978; Schlegel 1972). Studies of native American women have followed along this path (Brown 1975; Legare 1986; Albers 1983; A. Klein 1983).

Nevertheless, anthropological literature is sparse when it comes to analyzing women's use of social power. It is particularly lacking in studies of native American

3 women's decision making within band and tribal councils.

A number of factors contribute to this disregard for women's routine

interventions in public life. A tendency to write life stories of female leaders as if

each were a remarkable exception and without due consideration of the

circumstances that foster female leadership biases our understanding of female

leadership. Thus, what is missed is a complete picture of female leadership in

relation to common and enduring political struggles of the majority of women

(Bonnin 1900; Nelson 1972; Stewart 1980).1 Not surprisingly, efforts to understand

broader issues and strategies underlying community and national leadership are few

and all too frequently lack depth and analysis (see, for example, Indian Rights

Association 1981; Kidwell 1979; Miller 1978).

Green attributes this overall neglect to an academic preference for theory over the details of daily life:

If we know little about the ways in which the matriarchy functioned in Iroquois daily life, we must suspect that only theory, rather than the actual practice of female decision making, is of interest to scholars. Little wonder that few have written about modern female leadership in tribes which have been female governed for a long time-Puyallup, Colville, Yavapai, Menominee-or about those women who served as national and tribal political leaders in the last three decades. Little wonder again that a fixation with the traditional evolved into studies of nonthreatening older women, artists, and

1 I do not intend to suggest that these female leaders were not remarkable or even that they were not the exception of their culture and time. Rather, I am arguing that without comparative studies of their "experiences and circumstances we cannot further our understanding of the social processes underlying successful female leadership. .

4 relatives of famous male leaders, rather than into studies of the old women who tell male members of the American Indian Movement what to do in the next militant action (Green 1983:15).

But at the same time, we find detailed descriptions of the actual practice of male

decision making (Dyck, 1983; Larsen 1983). Consequently, feminist anthropologists

suggest that this neglect is more directly the outcome of sexism. Ethnographic

descriptions, they argue, are biased by a prevailing androcentricism that either

misrepresents women's lives or neglects describing them altogether (Reiter 1975;

Sacks 1979; Scheper-Hughes 1983). The general disregard for women's lives as a

subject of legitimate inquiry has been exacerbated further by common acceptance of the assumption that everywhere men are politically dominant (Rosaldo and

Lamphere 1974). This contributes to the neglect of women's participation in the

public domain and results in elaborate cultural models of universal gender hierarchy

(Ortner and Whitehead 1981; Collier and Rosaldo 1981).

The ideology of fieldwork as an intellectual and heroic adventure may shape male consciousness and promote male bias. Association of fieldwork with hardiness, physical deprivation, and personal courage may magnify assumptions of male dominance and personal superiority (Fiske 1986:68). Given the predominance of androcentric orientations within anthropology, it is not surprising that women's perspectives as well as those of men will reflect male bias. Standard definitions and concepts, after all, have been framed and refined by this one viewpoint. Even feminist scholars, anxious to revise and amend the ethnographic record, are

5 constrained in their efforts. Faced with traditional male audiences, some find themselves under pressure to shift their focus from the reality of women's daily lives to the more conventional concerns of abstract theory (Morgen 1983).

There are, of course, studies of women's lives and women's involvement in local-level politics. These have focussed primarily upon women's covert political influence in communities where women's domestic tasks and authority have considerable impact on the community as a whole rather than on women's direct political action (Albers 1983; Powers 1986; Lamphere 1977a). Unhappily these studies fail to consider the limits of covert power and the political significance of women's organizations. Although a number of ethnographers have remarked upon the influence of women's voluntary associations within community politics, there have been few attempts to analyze their full significance. Balikci, for example, mentions that the women's auxiliary of Old Crow intervened in public decisions. Sadiy, he fails to elaborate on either the frequency or the extent of this influence (Balikci 1963:143).

In her account of Tlingit town politics in Hoonah (1975:225ff), Klein offers greater insights. She notes that voluntary organizations are central to Tlingit women's political careers. Within them women are leaders, core members, and followers

(ibid.:290).

More recently, Powers addresses the issue of reservation-wide voluntary associations of Oglala women. She notes that these organizations serve two purposes: to fight the specific problems of women vis-a-vis domestic violence and sexual discrimination on the reservation, and to unite with men to combat state

6 manipulations and political interventions (Powers 1986:126). But she, too, fails to

expand on either the success of these associations or on the strategies of their

members. In fact, beyond several short studies and journalists' accounts of

women's activism, the structures and political significance of women's voluntary

associations at both the local and pan-tribal level generally has been overlooked

(e.g. Bomberry 1981; Booney 1976; Morrow 1970; Steiner 1960; Temkin et al. 1981;

Thorpe 1981).

Clearly, theoretical advances cannot be achieved without a sound ethnographic

record. The ongoing debate on women's socio-political status is strengthened if it

is founded on case studies of women's access to and manipulation of power.

Although attempts have been made to extend and revise the ethnohistorical record

in this regard, there are few studies of contemporary native women's direct

involvement in the political process. This study addresses that ethnographic lacuna.

It focusses on aspects of women's political struggles and strategies that have been

hitherto neglected. It goes beyond generalized debates on women's status to

consider specific configurations of women's social relationships in order to consider

the political significance of their influence in kin networks and of their voluntary

associations.

I approach my study of women's political participation from three directions.

First, I describe and analyze women's changing socio-economic position. Here I

concentrate on the historical transformation of the aboriginal subsistence economy through the penetration of mercantile capitalism, the introduction of wage and

7 contract labour, which primarily favoured men, the development of industrial capitalism, which displaced male Carrier labour but which simultaneously created service and domestic jobs for women, and, finally, the current position of economic dependency upon state administered welfare and short term employment programs.

I stress women's traditional and modern participation in economic activities and their.. access to and control over resources and the fruits of others' labour. In order to attain as full an understanding as possible, I view the historical context from two perspectives: the written record of primary and secondary sources, and the oral history of the Saik'uz elders.

Second, I consider the influence of traditional Saik'uz culture on modem

Saik'uz life. In particular, I investigate the extent to which women's contemporary behaviour is influenced by traditional role models. Saik'uz elders make clear differen• ces between what they consider traditional and what they think of as modern. From their perspective, the traditional, which they often categorize as "the Indian way," embodies all aspects of culture and social order perceived to have existed before

Euro-Canadian contact. Precisely what this includes can be verified through myth and history as related by the elders. Behaviour and cultural perceptions that are labelled modern, "the white man's way," are said to have emerged with the establish• ment of reserves in 1894, the intervention of the church, the disruption of trapping, and the discontinuance of salmon fishing by traditional weir technology early in this century.

For the purposes of this research, the focus is on elders' perceptions of

8 traditional female roles as defined by accounts of idealized behaviour of their foremothers and as embodied in mythology. I will show that there exists a high

degree of congruence between traditional and modern values with respect to women's familial roles and community responsibilities. Elderly women see no conflict

between traditional ideals of nurture and domestic obligations and their

contemporary family responsibilities. Nor do these elders see conflict between family responsibilities and intervention in community affairs.

Finally, I examine the current socio-political organization in light of the economic circumstances of the reserve community. Here I explore two basic issues: the management of economic and social resources, and the competition for control over executive offices within the formal political structure, the elected band council and its administrative staff, and within the parapolitical structure of women's voluntary associations.

The focus on local-level politics and community description is timely. As

Ponting explains, with respect to consitutional reform, consensus does not exist between leaders of Indian bands and their tribal councils, or between tribal councils and their provincial and national umbrella associations. Lack of a unified view among representative groups has led the state towards a piecemeal practice of negotiating with individual bands (Ponting 1986:38). More likely than not, following the example of the Sechelt Band,2 future state emphasis will be upon negotiation of

2 Sechelt Band of British Columbia has negotiated a form of self-administration which removes it from many prescriptions of the Indian Act. Known as the Sechelt

9 band level self-administration, with economic and social development at the

community level receiving priority. We can expect increased emphasis on local-

level leadership, grassroots organization, and public agitation with respect to

community and regional issues. This transition comes at a time of fiscal restraint

and a state emphasis on the past failures of economic policies to alleviate dire social

L

circumstances. Therefore it is equally likely that reserves will face a period of

decreased economic support.

It must also be kept in mind that native Indian women's associations are not

funded by the Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development (DIAND), as

are elected councils and their umbrella organizations, but by a number of other federal agencies including the Secretary of State's Women's Program, Health and

Welfare programs, and Canadian Employment and Immigration (CEIC).

Consequently, women face unique problems in their struggle for economic support

and for state recognition of their contributions to native Indian communities and social development.

To date, there are neither studies of the relevance of women's associations

and political leadership within this sphere nor analyses of the particular social and

political problems they confront. This dissertation breaks new ground by addressing these issues. While I focus entirely upon one case, which admittedly concerns only

a small population, the situation addressed is representative of nationwide

Indian Band Act, this statute grants limited, delegated power comparable to municipal government.

10 circumstances with respect to urgent community problems of health, income, and

employment (Jamieson, 1978; Ponting 1986; Shkilnyk 1985).

The Ethnographic Record

As stated above, in order to achieve my basic goals I find it necessary to address the limits of Carrier ethnography. There is very little published material on the Carrier, and what does exist fails to provide accurate, in-depth descriptions of women's lives. Adrian Morice, a nineteenth century Oblate missionary, provides relatively detailed accounts of Carrier life. Morice concentrates on the Central

[Upper] Carrier, in particular the people of Necoslie at Fort St. James.

Consequently, differences between local groups are not examined adequately.

Moreover, Morice's work is characterized by an androcentric view of women. Rarely does he report their views, and in the main he depicts them as subservient drudges

(e.g., 1892:118; 1930:57-58) who had little if any say in community affairs (1930:60).

Although he occasionally contradicts himself by remarking upon women's access to noble titles and chiefly positions (1889:124), he makes no effort to fully describe or understand their social position.

Morice's work is more suspect where he addresses the intimate side of women's lives. His interpretation of menstrual taboos and puberty seclusion is pejorative, and his portrayal of Carrier women's perceptions of menstruation, procreation, and mothering is overshadowed by his own views. He claims hunting proscriptions were based on "excessive repugnance for, and dread of, menstruating women" (1892:118) and he goes on to describe the pubescent girl as "that most

11 dreaded creature" who possessed "baleful influences" as a consequence of her

"terrible infirmity" (1892:165). Nowhere does he emphasize that men were

constrained by menstrual taboos (after all, they were responsible for avoiding

unnecessary and careless interactions with secluded women) or that women and

girls did not share this negative perception of themselves. In short, Morice's work

must be used with great care.

Goldman's (1963) description of the Lower Carrier of the Algatcho is relevant,

since some members of the contemporary Saik'uz band descend from Lower Carrier

bands. Yet again, this work pays scant attention to the particulars of women's lives

and gender relations. Despite his own acknowledgement that the norm of sexual

equality mitigated sexual differences in leadership (1963:358), elsewhere Goldman

speaks of male chiefs and "siblings and their wives"(ibid.:348) rather than including

complete and adequate descriptions of women's leadership. The same problems

are found in Jenness's (1943) work on the Carrier of the Bulkley River. Women are

mentioned infrequently and are characterized as secondary persons in relation to

men. This is best evidenced in his dismissal of noble women's titles and

prerogatives as relatively unimportant simply because they belonged to women

(1943:521). Similarly Duff (1951) offers little analysis of women's position in Carrier social organization, while Steward (1960) pays no attention either to the social

position or to the economic contributions of women.

Unpublished works have little more to offer. Legare (1986:123) points out that

Goldman's unpublished work contains inconsistencies and contradictions that

12 prevent clear interpretation of crucial aspects of gender roles. The harsh treatment of Carrier widows at the husband's cremation has long been given as evidence of women's inferior social value (Morice 1889:146). This understanding has been enhanced by the fact that comparable treatment for men is not described. As

Legare explains, however, Goldman's unpublished work does contain such evidence, which he later denies (Legare 1986:123) and which, I might add, is excluded from his earlier, published work (Goldman 1963:335).3 A further difficulty with this interpretation of widow's service arises when one considers periods of male servitude. At marriage a young man was expected to offer the fruits of his labour to his bride's parents. As Goldman states,

The behaviour of a man towards his parents-in-law was very clearly expressive of dominance relations. For at least the first two years of matrilocal residence the groom was a complete subordinate in the home of his father-in-law. He assisted him in every way, yielding up his entire fishing and hunting catch (1963:359).

Two points must be noted. First, despite the depth of servitude to his parents- in-law, the groom's position is not perceived as evidence of overall male subordination, whereas the latter period of widow's servitude is taken to demonstrate women's subordination. Second, Goldman is again ambivalent about the precise nature of gender roles: initially he refers to a period of subordination to both parents-

3 It is important to note that Goldman is ambiguous in this later work as well. While he specifically describes the hostility endured by widows and their subjugation to the deceased's family, he later generalizes his statement to "the hostility already described with which the surviving spouse was treated" (Goldman 1963:355).

13 in-law, then quickly moves to suggest that this existed only between two generations of men. In my view neither period of service is indicative of gender or generation inequality. Rather, each marked a change in relations between families.

Bride service initiated formal relations, widow service severed them.

While Goldman and Morice present biased accounts, Hackler (1958), Hudson

(1972, 1983), and Kobrinsky (1973) pass by the issue of gender relations to concentrate almost solely on male activities and male perceptions of cultural values and social structure. They make few references to women's work, social roles, or cultural contributions. Moreover, these accounts also are plagued by an androcentric bias in choice of wording. For example, Kobrinsky attributes male reluctance to net salmon (commonly viewed as women's work) as an anxiety equivalent to a white man's fear of "being caught in the kitchen with an apron on."

In a different vein, Hudson (1983) refers to the important transition from a resource economy based on clan production to one based on domestic or family production.

Yet nowhere does he describe in detail women's productive labour or analyze its contribution to the (undefined) domestic or household unit (Hudson

1983:106,108,152). Moreover, even in the face of his own descriptions of female bush activities, past and present, Hudson has analyzed the symbolic importance of community and domestic economies strictly as replication of "activities carried out by their male ancestors" (1983:164). The cumulative effect of this quality of ethnographic reporting is to discount women and their work.

Other types of descriptions of contemporary life add to the ethnographic

14 record. Gibson's (1972) vignettes of Carrier communities offer a more personal glimpse into the people's lives and a better gender balance than found elsewhere.

Because Gibson's purpose is to present a subjective, compassionate account of

individuals with whom he sympathized or whom he admired, he accentuates

personalities and inter-personal relationships. His rich and sensitive descriptions are carefully detailed to expose the "bitter-sweet texture of Indian life" (1972:72). In consequence, he provides valuable insights about village society and family life, especially the strong position of women within it (1972:36,37,63). Nevertheless,

Gibson's work must be approached with caution because at the same time his ethnographic and historical details are vague and at times erroneous (for examples see 1972:56,71,91).

It must be kept in mind that apart from Hackler's ethnographic description of

Western Carrier community life in the mid twentieth century, community ethnographies do not exist. The focus of research has been on the reconstruction of past social structures and economic systems and on broader analyses of the political economy (Hudson 1972,1983; Kobrinsky 1973). None of these approaches allows for detailed descriptions of daily life and personal interaction. Consequently it is important to point out that the absence of details about individual women and their position in the social structure is in some regard paralleled by a similar lack of attention to men's routine affairs. In general terms, there exists a need for community ethnography in order to further our understanding of Carrier society.

As indicated above, I am concerned to present an ethnographic description

,15 that accurately reflects the world view of Saik'uz women and men. To this end, I

have adhered to their terms of reference where possible. This presents particular

problems. Informants now employ concepts common to anthropological discourse

(matriarchy, extended family, clan, and lineage), while at the same time they

interchangeably use vernacular terms of reference (clan mothers, outfit, and party,

side or company). Neither set of terms has precise definition or stringent usage.

What is an outfit to one may be either a family or an extended family to another, or

a "trapping company" (if used in reference to a group sharing resource areas) to a third. Genealogical ties are not always reliable indicators of membership in putative

extended families or the larger kin units often labelled outfits. Granted, membership in an outfit is said to be determined by kinship ties, and great value is placed on kinship relations; nevertheless, dissension does occur over who is and who is not a member of any given outfit.

Using the term clan to indicate the two matrilineal descent groups also has its own complications. In local usage it can indicate either all the people entitled to membership by birth or only those entitled by birth and also initiated into the potlatch seating system. Although local usage is not wholly congruent with anthropological definition, I refer to two clans at Saik'uz, since this term does carry a specific anthropological meaning (a unilineal descent group) applicable to Saik'uz, while it also reflects Carrier preference. I include in the term clan all people entitled to membership by birth. Since Saik'uz is the only Carrier subdivision to have only two clans, moiety is not used. Other bands have three or four and a memory of

16 five, while Southern Carrier have none.

With these ambiguities and constraints in mind, the following terminology will be employed. Insofar as possible, and specifically where the designation is mine and not local usage, the term family will be used to refer to the smallest kinship group, whether co-residential or not, that is engaged in daily decision making with regard to domestic affairs. The limits of the term are established by the notion that kinship groups share decision making. Hence, a family might consist of two siblings, if those two operate as a decision-making group, or it might include a number of primary and secondary kin. Kinship groups that are not bound by daily co• operation and that include primary, secondary, and higher order kin will be designated extended family. Shared residence cannot be confused with family. As clarified by Bender (cited in Klein 1975:206), the concept of household incorporates two distinct and independent phenomena: domestic functions and common residence, and, as will be described later, domestic functions are not necessarily shared by all residents in a house.

Household activities will not be considered solely functions of the domestic domain as it is commonly understood. Sanday (1974:190) offers a distinction between domestic and public that is often assumed to be universal:

The domestic domain includes activities performed within the realm of the localized family unit. The public domain includes political and economic activities that take place or have impact beyond the localized family unit and that relate to control of persons or control of things.

Albers offers the same view: the domestic domain is "identified by domestic

17 relations which are familial in character" and the public realm is "based on

community-wide associations of a jural-political nature" (1983:177). As will be

discussed, this sectoral split does not apply to Saik'uz because community politics

and domestic politics are largely the same. As we shall see, intrafamily decision

making and allocation of material resources are closely integrated into community

politics. Issues confronting the community administration overlap with private

concerns, for example, the provision of housing and household equipment and

access to adequate incomes. In a village with a housing shortage, conflicts over

residential rights, and prevailing underemployment, there can be no clear boundary

between domestic ordering of residence or access to limited household resources and the political and economic concerns of the so-called public realm. Household relationships and decisions have ramifications for the community at large. To provide shelter is to make a political decision with considerable economic implications both for the household members and for those denied housing.

As others have demonstrated, conceptual opposition of domestic and public affairs is not applicable to communities where a domestic sector of production is necessary for survival; there women's domestic work and their activities outside the household are almost an extension of one another (Deere and Leon deLeal 1981).

Neither is the conceptual opposition applicable to communities where women, acting as household heads, are active in community decision making (Albers 1983, Klein

1975; Powers 1986). Albers and Powers demonstrate the continuity between domestic management and community, leadership among the Sioux and Oglala

18 respectively. Speaking of the Devil's Lake Sioux, Albers (1983:216) states:

[Women's] influence in mobilizing and monitoring political support is inseparable from their contributions in ceremonial and interhousehold provisioning. This is because the social arena where kin share and collaborate in their domestic and ceremonial affairs overlaps, and in some instances is nearly identical with, the major fields of political action on the reservation.

Therefore, it is necessary to ask, What is the relationship, if any, between domestic authority and public power?

Because I intend to analyze decision making, I have found it best to adhere to terminology that stresses social units as decision-making groups. I follow D.

Schneider who defines a descent group as a decision-making descent unit or portion of one, within which authority is differentially distributed (1973:4). It is clear, however, that I do not agree that such inequity applies only to men. I disagree with

Schneider's assertion that "It is sufficient, then, to define the male sex role as having authority over the statuses occupied by women..." (ibid.:7). As will be made clear, women do have authority within kinship groups, and like their male peers they have differential abilities and rights to wield authority.

Family decision making is not necessarily egalitarian. Nor does it automatically entail women and men. Women who head families in the absence of men exercise domestic authority that does not automatically affect men. Men who reside in all- male households are free from direct female intervention. Authority devolves differently for the young and old; older women have considerable authority over younger women and men, but young women have little scope to influence the lives

19 of older men. Similarly, older men exercise influence over younger women and men, but young men have no authority over older women.

This leads me to question D. Schneider's assertion that "the role of women as women [can be] defined as that of responsibility for the care of children" (ibid.:6).

While I, too, stress that most women assume this responsibility regardless of kinship statuses, I do not accept the notion that this one shared responsibility, which is after all only one of many, defines women as women.

Women and Politics

In discussing political structures and manipulations of power, clear definitions of the relevant analytical terms are critical. I have adopted Swartz's definitions of politics,

the events which are involved in the determination and implementation of public goals and/or the differential distribution and use of power within the group or groups concerned with the goals being considered (1969:1), and "local-level" politics,

[that] occurs in communities where relations are "multiplex" rather than "simplex"... and where politics is incomplete in the sense that actors and groups outside the range of the local, multiplex relationships are vitally and directly involved in the political processes of that group (1969:1).

As Swartz indicates, politics are not always divisive. Rather they may be co• operative, entail universal agreement, and require common action that is not characterized by the use of personal will and conflict. In other words, political action need not be synonymous with a struggle to wield power as it is habitually defined,

20 that is, as the ability to exercise one's will in the face of resistance.4 This being the case, rather than adopt this definition of power I suggest that power be viewed along two dimensions: the ability to direct decision making as well as the ability to gain access to and control over the allocation of crucial material and nonmaterial

resources, however they may be defined (Bourque and Warren 1981:53). The ability to direct decision making includes the capacity to determine what issues become relevant for political discussion and to define and enforce the rules that guide political discussion and decision making (ibid.). This broader definition incorporates two important features of Carrier women's public participation: their struggle for improvement of the immediate human condition, which is central to determining critical political issues, and their access to and political manipulation of traditional ideologies of nurture, which constitute a crucial nonmaterial resource.

Clearly the politics of Saik'uz can be considered local-level as define by

Swartz. A small reserve community of fewer than 400 permanent residents, subordinate to federal authority under the direction of the DIAND, and without economic independence, Saik'uz is subjected to the intervention of two larger political entities, namely, the province of British Columbia and the Canadian state.

4 The concept of power has been called an " 'essentially contested concept'- -one of those concepts which 'inevitably involves endless disputes about their proper uses on the part of their users'.... Weber's definition, 'the chance of a man or a number of men [sic] to realize their own will in a communal action even against the resistance of others' ... has had a major influence on recent developments of the concept. Another common characteristic of definitions of power is the suggestion of the ability to limit choices for others" (Eisenstein 1984:33).

21 Nevertheless, the people of Saik'uz struggle to retain control over their immediate interests. Insofar as possible, they attempt to direct community affairs through their elected band council and its administrative staff or through kinship networks and voluntary associations. Yet internal community politics, the focus of this study, are constrained by outside intervention. Not only is the formal, elected leadership curtailed by the direct, overriding authority of the state, but the informal, or

"parapolitical," structure of voluntary associations is curbed by its dependence upon the state for access to the scarce resources that come to Saik'uz in the form of government subsidies. More generally, of course, provincial and federal policies and practices impinge as heavily here as anywhere else in their jurisdictions.

I use Swartz's definition of politics for two reasons. First, it focuses on events and, therefore, on the actions of those involved in the public realm whether they be divisive.or co-operative. This well suits my purpose with regard to presenting women's political strategies as a focal point for analyzing the relations between gender and politics. Second, it permits me to follow F.G. Bailey's view of politics as a "competitive game" (1969a:1) marked by contests involving well matched competing teams. Being a game, political contestation is guided by rules, directed by leaders, and motivated by the desire to win prizes and rewards. Team leaders call upon two discrete groups of supporters: a core personnel morally tied to the leader through "multiplex relationships" (1969a:45) and teams of followers who constitute either a moral following, who share common sentiments and ethical precepts and whose loyalty, therefore, can be taken for granted, or a contract team,

22 whose interests are instrumental and self-centered (1969a:28). The concerns of contract team members may well focus on material and social benefits such as would derive from patronage for material goods, employment, social recognition, etc.

The political contest is guided by two sets of rules, the normative, which are professed publicly, stated vaguely, and predicated upon ethical and moral precepts; and pragmatic rules, which, in contrast, are private and have to do with effective strategies (1969a:5).

In my analysis I go further to suggest that within the political struggles of

Saik'uz, a further element emerges, a proclivity for women to form their own political teams. As I will demonstrate, in circumstances where the interests of women and men conflict, women break rank with dual gender teams based on kinship. When they perceive the need to compete directly with men or to confront male challenges to their public participation, women form their own teams of moral and contract followers. These teams momentarily create their own rules and priorities in order to gain an advantage or public goal. In short, the paradigm of political teams permits analysis of women's involvement as core members, leaders, and followers of political groups.

In this regard Bailey's political paradigm is applicable as well. His model of the "parapolitical" structure provides a useful unit of analysis for the political role of women's voluntary associations in local-level politics. He defines parapolitical structures as

those which are partly regulated by, and partly independent

23 of, larger encapsulating political structures, and which, so to speak, fight battles with these larger structures in a way which for them seldom ends in victory, rarely in dramatic defeat, but usually in a long drawn stalemate and defeat by attrition (1969b:281).

As Eidheim reminds us, voluntary associations coalesce into a parapolitical

structure when a constituted public apparatus cannot adequately accommodate

either certain local interests or dispersed interests (1969:210). Analysis of the

political struggles within women's voluntary associations and between the

parapolitical and formal structure is important not only to understanding the political

lives of women but to comprehension of the public realm in its entirety. While it is a useful heuristic device to impose artificial separations between the parapolitical and the political, ultimately they must be reunited. When both aspects are viewed as components within one central competition for the same resources, rewards, and positions of influence, this unity is possible.

Finally, it must be kept in mind that women's political involvement does not exist apart from their participation in a wide range of social institutions and situations that involve men and women. Analysis of organizations at the community level

7 entails consideration of the bases of women's support within family and kin groups.

Where politics are closely tied to kin networks, as in this case, women and men engage in common political struggles and employ common political strategies.

Nevertheless, contradictions between male interests and female interests also co• exist. Analysis must proceed with the coexistence of gender unity and gender conflicts in mind. Political models that allow for consideration of the full range of 24 women's political actions and loyalties in relation to male political agendas are

essential. Consequently, this study employs an analytical framework that, on the one

hand, illuminates a political process common to women and men, while on the other

hand, identifies the opportunities, constraints and political obligations that are

particular to women's experiences.

As indicated earlier, contemporary case studies of indigenous women's social

position have not concentrated either on their direct political involvement or on their

exercising of public power. Rather, they have focussed on analysis of women's

position vis-a-vis men. Two trends in theoretical explanations of women' status have

developed. Historical materialists debate whether or not capitalism is directly

responsible for women's position, and, if so, whether subjugation of colonized,

indigenous women is inevitable (Anderson 1985; Albers 1983; Etienne and Leacock

1980; Leacock 1978; 1986). Others argue that cultural and social traditions uphold

precapitalist relationships (Sanday 1981; Klein 1975; Powers 1986). This study takes

both views into account. I maintain that in order to understand fully women's

political involvement we need to identify the material and nonmaterial resources

available to them, their ability to control these resources, and the cultural matrix which values or devalues women's reproductive, economic, and social roles.

Methodology

This study is based primarily upon field research within the tradition of

"community studies." My objective, in Arensberg's terms is to study social conditions in "their full natural, living setting and relationship" (1954:111). While this

25 study concerns itself with the over-all picture of community life, its particular focus is upon the lives of women, especially women who form, or who are perceived to form, an elite core of community leaders. I did not, however, confine myself to the situations or social interpretations of female leaders, or even to those of women more generally. I sought as well views of men. When dealing with women and men,

I attempted to identify informants whose understanding of the past was most extensive and whose participation within the political structures gave them advantages of insight and experience. Nevertheless, there is a bias towards female informants. Amongst the elders, women outnumber men. Few men worked at the administrative office during the research period, and these individuals were not necessarily the best informants. One was a white man, another a young man who did not belong to the band but who resided there as a consequence of his personal relationships.

In general, access to women's views is much easier for the female ethnographer. As I have stated elsewhere (Fiske 1986), and as I will elaborate below, female elders are honoured for their cultural and historical knowledge. Men turn to well- informed women for their own understanding and direct the outsider to these same women when asked questions they cannot or prefer not to answer. The female perspective of this study, therefore, not only comes from the preference of the researcher, but also reflects attitudes of the informants.

Community study requires several complementary forms of data collection.

Observation of and participation in routine events lie at its heart. Complementing

26 observational learning are data collected through formal and informal interviews, census data, and archival searches.

I spent a year, 1983-84, doing field research during which time 9 months were spent living on the reserve in the home of a mother and her teenaged daughter.

Return visits were made during the early winter through to the summer of 1985, the latter being a two month stay at the home of another woman who then lived on her own. For several months I was hired by the band council to research historical land use and settlement patterns. I worked out of the band office with the assistance of one Saik'uz woman. This project enabled me to interview men more easily than otherwise would have been the case and to participate more fully in village affairs.

As a hired researcher I was able to attend important political meetings within the region, to represent band interests at the provincial level, and to search state documents which otherwise would have been closed to me. I participated in women's voluntary association activities and in women's fishing, family celebrations, and community events.

The last point raises questions of ethics. Given the current political climate regarding land claims and aboriginal rights, knowledge of land use and territorial claims is sensitive. Consequently, this dissertation provides few specifics with regard to resource use and land tenure. In order to honour expectations of confidentiality

(throughout all names used are fictitious), I have focussed primarily upon women's political strategies, paying less attention to specific details of political issues related to resource management, aboriginal rights, and land claims.

27 The need to appreciate the sensitivity of resource related problems is but one of several factors that direct the way research can be done in Saik'uz. First, Carrier tradition places a priority on observational learning. Direct questions and intensive inquiries are not appreciated. Second, observation goes hand in hand with participation. Learning is not disconnected from involvement in community life.

Women in particular stress a holistic view of learning that leads to particular accomplishments. For them, to understand the technology and procedures of netting salmon, for example, is to enter freely into the work and thus to contribute to a household and/or community economic activity. Third, it is expected that outsiders who observe and record community life or who record oral histories will in their turn, contribute to the community. Engagement in community projects or contribution of relevant work from outside the community is sought as a reasonable exchange for what is taken from the people, particularly from the elders. Fourth, there are issues other than those related to confidential research on the resource base that are sensitive in nature. Social behaviours and attitudes which meet with general disapproval or which are ill understood or stigmatized by outsiders are discussed reluctantly, if at all. Problems of family violence, alcohol dependency, and adolescent rebellion are only occasionally discussed. Similarly, knowledge deemed

"precious" has been kept confidential, particularly with respect to spiritual beliefs, women's fertility, and menstruation. Although these matters may be discussed privately, they cannot be related to a larger, more open audience for fear they will be either misconstrued or mocked.

28 These concerns are not rare. Increasingly, ethnographers describe the distrust

and even displeasure expressed towards outsiders who write about native Indian

communities. (Blackman 1982:16; Colson 1953:xii; Klein 1975:30; Mitchell 1976).

As Klein points out, studied communities are justifiably concerned that their images

not be cast negatively (1975:30-31). This creates a particular problems for the

researcher and can limit the nature of ethnographic documentation. With this in

mind, I have confined discussion of such sensitive material in two ways. "Precious"

- knowledge is referred to categorically, but without inclusion of details considered

private. For example, female puberty seclusion is mentioned, but personal

experiences are not. Reference to socially sensitive behaviours such as alcohol

dependency and family violence occurs primarily within the context of informants'

statements and only where such behaviours impinge upon the subjects of analysis:

women's public roles and political strategies.

The understanding of the elders and councillors who approved this research

was clear: I would focus on two issues, namely, the historical transformation of

women's daily lives and their present day accomplishments. In consequence I have

not collected the same detailed data about men's lives as I have about women. The

lack of detail about men also reflects some concerns of the female elders. They

often feel that men have suffered differently from women under colonialism. The

social frustrations faced by men who encounter unending poverty and

unemployment have led to behaviours considered inappropriate, and this acutely

distresses the Carrier people. They are also disturbed by the negative stereotypes

29 and unsympathetic responses of the dominant society. My undertaking with the

community, therefore, was to limit my research as far as possible to the more

immediate issues of the political process and to accentuate the underlying issues of family and community responsibility.

Organization

This study begins with an introduction to the people and their environment.

The next chapter provides a description of contemporary life from the outsider's perspective. Then, working from the written historical record, I summarize the history of the Central Carrier. In Chapter 3 I focus on changes in the gender division of labour and social responsibilities within a transformed material and social context.

In Chapter 4, I offer a short discussion of outsiders' views of women and menstrual pollution. I then investigate Carrier perspectives. First, I turn to an analysis of sexual meanings and symbols in Carrier myth. The early myths depict strong images of respected and honoured women; old woman upon whom the creator heroes were dependent, and young medicine women and adolescents who confronted and destroyed uncontrolled male powers. This is the cosmological matrix from which the contemporary women emerge. It holds the ideological base for women's current ideals and personal survival strategies. I then look at the various interpretations given to the past and to the changes in women's social, economic, and political status.

This leads to an investigation of women's lives and their perceptions of their social and domestic responsibilities. Contemporary women are motivated to political

30 action by traditional ideals of feminine achievement and by strong commitment to

their families' well being. Therefore in Chapter 5, I concentrate on how family

decision making and domestic authority facilitate female leaders' entry in the socio•

political structure imposed by Euro-Canadian society. Chapters 6 and 7 provide an

analysis of social organization in relation to women's domestic and community

responsibilities. Women's political strategies are analyzed in Chapter 8. The ability

of female leaders to assume a key role in the internal politics of Saik'uz is analyzed

and then situated within the broader political forces which encapsulate reserve life.

Chapter 9 turns to other studies of native Indian women's participation in local-level

politics. In this chapter, I present a summary of the major findings of these studies

in order to draw out the theoretical implications of my own case study. In the final chapter I present my summary and conclusions.

31 CHAPTER TWO

SAIK'UZ TODAY

Introduction

This chapter offers a brief introduction to the Carrier people, their land, and the village life of the Stoney Creek band. The purpose is to introduce the social and economic issues central to political decision-making. I describe the village, its economic situation, and its administrative structure. I then outline the major political issues that tie Saik'uz to the larger political structures and shape intravillage political life.

The People

The Carrier Indians are an Athapaskan-speaking people with cultural traditions similar to ones of their Athapaskan neighbours, the Sekani to the north, the Beaver to the north east, and the Chilcotin to the southwest (Map 1). Anthropologists and linguists have divided the Carrier peoples into three groups on the basis of similar dialect and social organization. Morice offers a tripartite linguistic division of the

Carrier: the Western or Babine Carrier of the Bulkley Valley and Babine Lake, the

Upper Carrier of the Nechako Plateau, and the Lower Carrier south of the Nechako

Plateau. Duff and Hudson also provide a tripartite division.

Goldman makes a sociopolitical division between Upper and Lower Carrier.

The Upper Carrier include all groups influenced by the Gitksan sociopolitical system,

32 Map 1 Indians of British Columbia (Adapted from Duff 1964:14).

33 and the Lower Carrier comprise the southern groups who remained outside this influence. Tobey avoids using a tripartite division, referring instead to the Carrier as a tribe, a "linguistic grouping," and to fourteen subtribes, which she defines as

"named and localized socioterritorial units (1981:413)." On the basis of linguistic similarities, Walker and Wilkinson also offer a tripartite division (Walker et al. 1974).

They label the north eastern bands of the Stuart Tremblay region as well as those centrally located on the Nechako River as Central Carrier (Map 1). Kari points out that linguistic differences between the Carrier of the Babine and Bulkley regions and the remainder of the Carrier are sufficiently distinct to consider the dialect of the

Babine and Bulkley areas to be a distinct language.

Map 2 shows the Carrier internal divisions and their subdivisions of the late nineteenth century according to Tobey and Hudson.1 At the time of contact with

Europeans, the Carrier peoples consisted of twelve localized units; each was named after a geographical feature and each had one or more semi-permanent villages

(Hudson 1972). The subdivisions of the Carrier were labelled septs by Morice

(1893), subtribes by Jenness (1943) and Duff (1951), and bands by Hudson (1972).

The localized units were not unified political entities. A common dialect, marriage and kinship ties, and an interest in common resources underlay the social cohesion of each subdivision. Relations between the divisions were amicable (Tobey

1 Tobey's classification has been altered with respect to the Tl'azt'enne (Stuart- Trembleur Band). She identifies them as the Tachiwoten, but according to Hudson (1983:49) the Tachiwoten were a village group of the Tl'azt'enne.

34 Map 2 Internal Divisions of the Carrier (Adapted from Tobey 1981:414; Hudson 1972:173; Hudson 1983:49). 1981:415). Economic, kinship, and ceremonial relations were independently established by each village (Hudson 1972:100).

The social organization and ceremonial behaviour of various subdivisions were most readily distinguished by the varying presence of coastal cultural traits. Prior to European contact, the Lower Carrier engaged in regular trade and ceremonial exchanges with the Bella Coola, while the Central Carrier of the Nechako River turned to the Gitksan.

The term Carrier is a misnomer. It is an English gloss for a term applied by the neighbouring groups in reference to a cultural practice not known amongst themselves, namely, widows carrying on their backs the relics of their deceased husbands throughout a lengthy mourning period (Morice 1892:111). The origins of other terms applied by the Europeans, Negailer (Alexander Mackenzie) and Tacuilies

(Harmon) are obscure and have fallen into disuse. Although the collective term

Carrier continues to be recognized, there is a growing preference on their part for reverting to the aboriginal practice of designating social identity according to membership in the indigenous subdivisions, indicated by the suffix tenne (glossed as "people"), and by reference to an individual's village, indicated by the suffix woten

(glossed as "people of..." [cf. Hudson 1983:49]). The three labels given to indicate linguistic distinctions are rarely used by the Carrier.

This study is concerned with the Carrier who are known as the Stoney Creek

Band or the Saik'uz Whut'enne, "people of Stoney Creek," an aggregation of the

Nulkiwoten and Tachickwoten shown on Map 2. The dialect of the Saik'uz Whut'enne

36 has been categorized as Central (Walker et al. 1974) and the people as a band of the Upper Carrier (Hudson 1972:13). It must be noted, however, that the

contemporary population descends from Lower and Central Carrier groups.

According to the Saik'uz Whut'enne, depopulation and economic changes in the

nineteenth century forced several dispersed populations to Saik'uz, where they

merged with the Tachickwoten and Nulkiwoten who were established nearby.2

Consequently, the cultural traditions of contemporary Saik'uz Whut'enne contain features drawn from several aboriginal groups. The people of Stoney Creek constitute an "Indian band" as defined in the Indian Act. At the time of research, band membership was 465, with some 360 residing regularly on the reserve.

The Land

Prior to Euro-Canadian contact, the territory of the Carrier encompassed a large portion of the region now known as the central interior of British Columbia. It is a rugged region marked by numerous rivers, streams, lakes, and swamps that lie between a series of high plateaus and ranges of low mountains and hills. The climate throughout the area is reasonably uniform. Summers are cool and short.

Frost free periods rarely exceed more than six weeks. Winters are long. Although very cold periods do occur in mid-winter, they are not overly severe or of long duration.

2 Jenness informs us of the merging of the villages of Nulki Lake and Tachick Lake but makes no mention of the aggregation of peoples from further away (1943:586).

37 The forests consist primarily of spruce, fir, and lodgepole pine, the former two

now being of considerable importance to the forest industry. Birch, northern black cottonwood, and aspen are also common species. Stands of willow and a variety of low lying shrubs line the river beds and lake shores. Among those important to the Carrier are the huckleberry, raspberry, blueberry, saskatoon berry, and soap berry. A variety of grasses and flowering plants are also found throughout the area.

The region supports a variety of mammals and waterfowl. Prior to 1850, caribou were found in the area, apparently never in large numbers. The moose, which did not appear until early in this century, is now common (Hudson 1983:65;

Cranny 1986:22). According to Cranny, the mule deer is increasing and expanding its territory. Other sizeable mammals to be found are the wolf, coyote, lynx, black bear, and grizzly. Small fur bearing mammals were abundant when Europeans arrived in 1805, and beaver, mink, muskrat, fisher, marten, otter, weasel, hare, marmot, and fox are all still found within the area.

The region is summer home to a variety of migrating waterfowl, several of which were once important to the Carrier. The whistling swan, Canada goose, several species of duck, grebes, and loon are still found in large numbers.

A wide variety of fishes are also found within this region. Fish resources include two species of salmon: the sockeye, which has been a primary food resource, and the spring or chinook. Sturgeon are known in the large lakes and rivers, and char, kokanee, rainbow trout, suckers, Columbia River dace, burbot, and mountain white fish are found throughout the region. According to Cranny (1986)

38 and Hudson (1983), fish provided the basic subsistence of the aboriginal Carrier.

Although early observers (Harmon 1957:152, 247-48; HBCA B.188/a/2 fo.56d, cited

by Cranny 1986:53) stress the importance of sockeye salmon as the dietary staple,

there is evidence that other fish species were of considerable significance as well.

Dramatic fluctuations in salmon migrations suggest that the sockeye was not always

sufficient to subsistence needs (Cranny 1986:18; Hudson 1983:46-47).

Since 1805, when the first fur trading posts were established, resource

exploitation has been shaped by capitalist interests in a series of staple resources

exploited for distant markets. During the first half of the nineteenth century, furs

were the staple resource. Gold was significant for a few years between 1860 and

1880. Settlement and agricultural development in the Nechako River Valley began

in the last quarter of the nineteenth century, but it did not blossom until the Grand

Trunk Railway was completed in 1914. The forestry industry has expanded rapidly

since 1940. Large pulp and paper mills and sawmills, owned by transnational

corporations, have operated since the 1960s and now provide the economic

mainstay of the Central Interior. Large-scale resource development and state

limitations on access to crown lands have reduced the resource areas of the Carrier to lands set aside as Indian reserves. Residence in a reserve village is now central to Carrier social identity.

The Village

The contemporary village of Saik'uz (Stoney Creek) is located in Reserve

Number 1, the largest of the Stoney Creek Band's reserves, a short distance from

39 Nulki and Tachick Lakes (Map 3). It is difficult to determine precisely how long a

village has stood here or what its relations were to the settlements of the Nulkiwoten

and Tachickwoten. There is evidence to suggest that unlike most Carrier villages,

Stoney Creek, also known as Sy-cuz in the nineteenth century (Morice 1892),

emerged as a permanent settlement at its present site only after it became a

stopping place for itinerant travellers, such as priests and traders.

The village appears to have grown when the Hudson Bay Company

established a temporary trading post there. By the mid-nineteenth century, it had

eclipsed the settlements on the shores of Nulki Lake (then known as Laketown) and

Tachick Lake. Over the past century, the population at Laketown has dwindled to fewer than 20 regular residents. Other former fishing stations and settlements are

now visited only for seasonal resource exploitation.

Today, Saik'uz is a small reserve village with a permanent population of some

360 residents. Partially sheltered from the adjacent ranches by the forested reserve that surrounds it, the village is divided by a busy highway, formerly an aboriginal trading route known as the "grease trail." The creek from which the village and its

people take their names meanders between the houses and links Nulki and Tachick

Lakes.

There is little to attract the attention of casual visitors or strangers passing through the reserve. Apart from the houses, there is little development. Village social life revolves around the community hall and baseball diamond. The hall, a plain, simple, frame building with adjacent "totem poles" commemorating the

40 Scale is also applicable to inset.

Map 3 Indian Reserves No. 1-8 of Stoney Creek Band

41 provincial centennial of confederation is rarely empty. Here the people gather regularly for meetings, potlatches, in Carrier balhats (from the Chinook jargon for giving away), children's dance practices, and weekly bingo games, as well as for private celebrations of birthdays and anniversaries. Throughout the winter and spring the elders and children gather weekly for Indian dancing, a blend of competitive Cree dances popular at intertribal pow wows, and traditional Carrier social dances with their attendant singing and drumming.

In front of the hall is one of the two baseball diamonds. From early spring, to September the baseball diamond is the focus of social activity. The village boasts three ball teams (two women's and one men's) that play in regional native and mixed leagues. The men's team is a serious contender in regional and provincial tournaments. Their games attract crowds of supporters who come to enjoy the festive atmosphere of the tournaments and to demonstrate their pride in their athletic ambassadors.

Other public buildings serve more serious interests. The craft centre, a single room, log building is used for adult education classes, spiritual meetings, and a miscellany of social gatherings. Saturday and Sunday masses are held in the small clapboard church. Otherwise it stands empty except for funerals and the occasional wedding. The laundromat, not easily recognized as such, for it, too, is an attractive log structure, is in continuous use and offers an opportunity for people to visit while tending to routine domestic tasks. Further into the village, across the creek, one finds a new health clinic, the band administrative offices, and a two room school.

42 There kindergarten, alternate secondary, and adult classes are held. The school

yard has few items of playground equipment for the young children. Beyond the

school lie a few rather isolated homes separated by open fields and woods.

A short distance from the village centre stands a small store, owned by a

woman resident on the reserve. Here one can buy candy, sundries, canned goods,

and souvenirs either marked Stoney Creek or "Sai Kuz." The store serves the

occasional needs of most villagers, white families who live nearby, and passers by.

Above the store counter is a hand printed sign saying "No Credit," but in fact few

reserve residents are without accounts here. For some, whose income is pitifully

small and who are plagued by constant shortfalls in cash, credit is essential.

As the reserve slopes downward to the western shore of Nulki Lake and away from the village there are few homes, and these are surrounded by open fields.

Privately owned ranches separate the main reserve from Laketown (Reserve 3, Map

3). Laketown was once a separate community of family farms and fishing stations with its own church. All that remains are four homes and a large cross of peeled logs marking the former cemetery. Today, one older woman dwells at Laketown.

She shares her home with grandchildren and great grandchildren, and infrequently her son. The other houses are used intermittently, two by brothers who alternate residence between Laketown and Vancouver, five hundred miles to the south.

A footpath connects this cluster of homes to two other homes on the lake shore. Owned by a brother and his sister, they are sheltered from the road by trees and invisible to the passing traffic. Maps from the Stoney Creek

43 administration office include one more homesite in the Laketown community, although it falls outside of designated reserve boundaries. This property is owned

by a nonstatus member of Saik'uz who was enfranchised in the 1950s, but who

remains active in the community.3

The federal government did not establish reserve lands for the Stoney Creek band until 1892. By then white settlers had established themselves on lands situated around the fishing sites on Nulki and Tachick Lakes. Hence the band no longer possesses its former unbroken tract of territory that once connected the Tachick and

Nulki fishing sites. In all, five discrete reserves were allotted between the lakes' shores. On the fifth, and most remote, lives a solitary family, a young woman, her white husband, and infant child. More distant reserves are used for pasture, fishing, and hunting.

Social pleasures are concentrated in the reserve village or are pursued in nearby Vanderhoof. Organized social activities rarely involve the surrounding

Euro-Canadian families. Individuals develop friendships or affinal kin relations with members of the dominant population. These relationships, however, do not weaken the social cohesion of the village or intrude into its ties to neighbouring Carrier

3 Enfranchisement or loss of Indian status refers to the process whereby. Indians (primarily men) were granted full Canadian citizenship while simultaneously loosing their rights to residence on a reserve, to share in a band's resources, and to benefit from the services offered by DIAND. Enfranchisement was not always voluntary. Rather under conditions specified by the Indian Act (1951) it could be imposed by the state. Men lost status (i.e., became enfranchised) when, as adults, they were enfranchised or when, as minor children their fathers were enfranchised. Others are nonstatus because their status Indian mothers married non-Indians.

44 bands and the dispersed native populations either of Vanderhoof 20 kilometers to

the north or of Prince George some 90 kilometers to the east.

As for the Euro-Canadians, few apart from state and school representatives or

affinal kin visit the village. Infrequently, weekend beach parties attract a crowd from

town, but these events do not lead to lasting social relations. Sports fishers and

hunters have little social interaction with the reserve members.

Saik'uz suffers visibly from a chronic shortage of money. For the most part the homes are small with few comforts beyond the basic necessities. Several are

still without water. For the individual homeowners, outbuildings are rare. The older

houses have a wood shed, storage shed, and perhaps a smoke house of simple construction. With two exceptions, garages or carports and workshops are

unknown. The newer houses, now built with basements, have been placed on small lots along the village roads and clustered together for the most economical provision of water and sewage services. Their small lots look bare and empty in comparison to the yards of the older homes, which appear cluttered and disorderly to the casual visitor. The untutored eye fails to recognize them as the centre of women's work. With their variety of equipment, work tables, garden plots, smoke houses, boats and canoes, as well as laundry facilities such as basins and lines, the yards contain what is necessary for the women to provide for their families. In the yards, men's possessions also accumulate: car and truck parts and bodies, always needed for repairs, and miscellaneous machinery and equipment are kept on hand.

45 The federal government finances the costs of houses, which are allocated to

the Saik'uz band council through the Carrier Sekani Tribal Council. But the housing

allocation is woefully inadequate, and each year the new homes added seem only

to keep pace with the loss of condemned buildings and the increased requests of

nonresidents to return to the reserve, so that the annual improvement in

accommodation is negligible. Members of the band who reside elsewhere but would

prefer to live on the reserve have little hope of doing so because of lack of

accommodation and reliable employment.

Compounding the problems of housing is the residents' inability to maintain and

improve existing homes. Because older homes, even those built as recently as fifteen years ago, were not constructed according to reasonable standards for heavy family

use in a harsh climate, they not only deteriorate quickly, they lack many of the amenities and extras that would make them more suitable for the large families which inhabit them. Repair and remodelling costs are beyond the incomes of most residents; the only alternative is to seek government aid through a rural homeowner's assistance program. These funds are insufficient to meet the needs of all villagers, so each year many must go without. Substandard housing quickly takes on an appearance of neglect and misuse that contrasts sharply with the newer homes with their modern, suburban image.

The shortage of money is further revealed by the lack of community facilities, services, and maintenance. A quonset hut, once intended as a fire hall, lies crumpled on its side, a victim of high winds. The street pavement has been raised

46 by frost only to sink deeply into its gravel bed. Playground equipment for the children is minimal and aging, while indoor recreational facilities are nonexistent.

Beyond the village, at the Nulki lake shore, a partially completed log building, a potlatch house that is intended to serve as a cultural centre, speaks to the aspirations of a village frustrated by inadequate resources and dependency upon irregular and unpredictable state financing.

The Economics of Dependency

The socio-economic conditions of Saik'uz are best characterized as "welfare colonialism" or "welfare dependency" (Tanner 1983:2). At all levels of economic management, from personal reliance on social assistance payments to the development of small enterprises, the people are dependent upon funding from the federal government. The Department of Indian and Northern Affairs provides monies for community administration, education, social assistance, housing and maintenance of community services. Other federal departments contribute lesser amounts.

Health and Welfare, Secretary of State, and Canadian Employment and Immigration contribute to community services, adult training, job creation schemes, and cultural programs.

Most of the funds pass directly from the state agencies to the band's elected council, to be managed by the council's administrative staff. Some, however, circulate through the administration of the Carrier Sekani Tribal Council, an umbrella association with fourteen member bands. Housing funds, for example, are handed over to the tribal council to be redistributed among the competing bands. Other

47 funds, earmarked for small community development schemes and job creation

programs, are obtained by voluntary associations.

The federal government's dominant position in the local economy is strengthened

by the community's inability to raise its own taxes or to freely exploit its natural

resources. Under the provisions of the Indian Act, the Minister of Indian Affairs

retains the right to control exploitation of natural resources. Without either a land

base large enough for self- sufficiency or adequate resources necessary to create

independent, small businesses, capital that does come to Saik'uz immediately flows

out to neighbouring commercial centres. The small store provides no revenue to the

band, and currently it is the only business enterprise on reserve land.

The majority of adults are directly and immediately dependent upon state

subsidies and income support, whether they are employed on the reserve or

dependent upon social assistance. Only three women are employed steadily off the reserve, one as a cook in a parochial school, one as a teaching assistant in adult education at the local college, and one as a Carrier language instructor in the

Catholic school system. Permanent jobs on the reserve are provided by the elected

band council. Twelve women, eight working full time, are employed as administrative

and support staff. Another six women work a few hours a week providing home services to the elders, but this offers only a minimum wage and an insecure source of employment.

The men fare no better. In fact they are not so fortunate. It is rare to find

more than three men employed steadily on the reserve. During the spring and

48 summer months, when federal agencies fund short term employment, more men are working. Housing construction and repair, and forestry work can employ up to twenty individuals for twenty weeks, the minimum period of employment required to receive unemployment insurance. In addition to work on the reserve, a handful of men are employed elsewhere. Two work in a sawmill, three with the department of highways, and one with a small logging firm that has a permit to harvest timber on lands designated for agricultural development. The last man also traps and works as a casual ranch-hand.

Bush activities for the men remain severely limited. Trapping is a poor source of income and requires a capital investment that men are unable to raise independently. The largest line, once shared by a number of trappers but now worked by one man, offers a gross income of no more than $20,000.00 if worked to its total potential-an impossible task given that the provincial government has issued permits for two decades of continuous logging within its boundaries. Other lines are either too small to provide adequate returns or have been depleted by logging, recreational use, and nearby residential development.

The current regional economic situation is grim. Due to the failure of international markets, forestry is experiencing hard times. For those women and men who desire work, the prospects are very poor indeed. Opportunities are limited to casual labour on such short-term projects as forestry maintenance projects, summer fire fighting, and fruit picking in the Okanagan orchards to the south. In the

49 face of underemployment, dependence upon the federal government for personal income is inescapable for the majority.

The Administrative Structure

Another consequence of a state controlled economy has been the creation of a small bureaucracy at the band level. As indicated above, the band administrative structure, consisting of an elected band council and its hired staff, acts in accordance with state policies. Five councillors, one of them a chief councillor, are elected every two years. They administer the Saik'uz band according to the mandate set out in the Indian Act. Eligible electors include all the listed members over the age of twenty-one. (Prior to 1984 only reserve residents were eligible to vote and/or run for office. Thereafter, the band received ministerial approval to include nonresidents.)

The band council has limited powers. With the approval of the minister of

Indian Affairs, it can establish by-laws regulating use of reserve lands. It can also monitor some aspects of personal behaviour (such as property maintenance), administer the band budget, and allocate community resources: housing, education assistance, and funds for home repairs, for example. Beyond these limited powers, the council does not have a clearly defined social or economic function. The chief, or a councillor appointed by her/him, acts as the band delegate to the monthly

Carrier Sekani Tribal Council and as the delegate to provincial organizations representing such specific interests as fisheries, forestry, or trapping. Other council members are involved in extra-community affairs as alternate delegates for the chief

50 councillor and/or as representatives on a variety of associations pertaining to issues

of economic development, social welfare, education, and band management and

planning.

In practice, the elected council is an extension of state bureaucracy. The main function of the administrative structure is to dispense goods and services flowing from the state. Hence, the elected council is subject to outside authorities that

ultimately determine acceptable distribution of its subsidies and programs.

Frequently the council must act within an atmosphere of confusion and contradictory information. As formulated by DIAND, state policies not only change in a seemingly arbitrary and confusing manner, they are fully communicated neither to the council nor to its committees. Advisory notices are received from the regional

DIAND office by the administrative staff and duplicated for each band councillor. But these circulars are of a bureaucratic nature. Their jargon and cryptic language are not understood readily. Moreover, their significance is buried beneath vague references to established policy mandates and Other circulars, often referred to only by a file number.

Confusion results in considerable dissension over what the state intends and what it will permit the.council to do. Within this atmosphere of uncertainty, a council's actions can be justified either as an appropriate response to state articulated rules and regulations or, alternatively, as the "Indian Way" of looking after one's people. The elected council does not operate alone. Three advisory committees are appointed by the council. They offer advice on housing allocation,

51 on education policies, such as student/teacher relationships and education budget

administration, and on child welfare, including emergency care and parental workshops. It is generally accepted that the council should take directions from its

advisory committees which are appointed to ensure that the administration

understands and adheres to traditional concepts of leadership. All too frequently the two are contradictory. Advisory committees, particularly those dominated by elders,

call upon the chief and council to intervene in family disputes, to control access to

alcohol, to provide services to nonstatus residents, and to encourage self-help and community sharing. Since the council lacks the authority to act in this regard, it often yields to the expectations of government personnel, being careful to act within the minor powers permitted by the Indian Act.

Self-administration was introduced to Saik'uz by DIAND in the early 1970s. The administrative staff comprises five administrative positions: the band manager, education co-ordinator, social welfare worker, child welfare worker, and a maintenance supervisor. In addition, it employs a community health representative plus two alcohol and drug counsellors. The band manager and her staff administer an annual budget of approximately $800,000.00. Although the staff has some discretionary powers in its budgetary expenditures, the weight of responsibility lies with the regional DIAND office, which initially sets the departmental allocations for education, social assistance, maintenance, etc. The chief councillor has limited administrative privileges, however, all uses of funds not specifically mandated by

DIAND--for example personal loans-must be approved by the band council.

52 The funds themselves are supervised closely by the state. In addition to

routine review of the books by DIAND accountants, an independent monthly audit

is required. Despite external and internal controls over the budget, its adminstration

appears to be the most significant source of tension between the community at

large, the band council, and the administrative staff. Dissension over budget

allocation arises over welfare assessments, employment, recreation funds (primarily

in support of the ball teams) and miscellaneous personal expenses.

Each member of the administrative staff is responsible for independent

decisions that directly affect individual members of the community. They classify

the qualifications of each social assistance recipient and hence determine the rate

of monthly assistance payments, allocate educational allowances for post secondary

students, and determine other numerous but small, financial matters. As well, the

band manager is responsible for hiring seasonal and part-time workers, which is always a bone of contention since the jobs are few and short term, while the

unemployed are many. Sharing a common work place draws the staff together as a distinct social unit that shares interests and concerns not faced by other reserve residents. The social unity of the administrators is strengthened by their common attendance-at the expense of the band~at political and cultural events sponsored by the tribal council and other bands. They attend education and health conferences, inter-tribal alcohol and drug abuse events, and local workshops run by both native and nonnative organizations.

53 The social unity of the administrative and support staff is enhanced by the fact

that most are women. Clerical and service work is viewed as female work in the

same way as in the dominant society. This means that women are far more likely than men to be hired by the band council. It also means that most employees will

be young or middle aged women with secondary or post-secondary education.

The consequences of underdevelopment reach beyond the emergence of a

bureaucracy to penetrate the most intimate decisions and social interactions of the

band members. The economics of welfare colonialism means that the band council and administrators assume control over resources and decisions that elsewhere would be considered private. Furthermore, these decisions never rest solely in the

hands of the band's administrative structure but are subject to state intervention.

The Political issues

The Saik'uz Whut'enne confront the same critical political issues as do other aboriginal people across Canada: land claims, environmental protection and management, self-determination and self-defined band membership, and a continual, struggle against poverty and its attendant social crises, such as, alcohol and drug abuse and family conflict. The band council does not act independently on many of these issues. Instead its interests are represented to the state through the Carrier

Sekani Tribal Council under the direction of the Council's elected executive and its administrative officers.

Concerns over regional economic development draw the band and tribal council into confrontations with the provincial and federal governments. Few

54 economic or environmental issues are acted on independently at the band level.

Moreover, neither the band council nor the tribal council represents all Carrier

interest groups. At the time of research, major economic development in the region was being proposed by the Alcan corporation, a Canadian based multinational

aluminum company. Alcan wished to expand its production of hydro electric power

by further damming of the Nechako river (it had built Kenny Dam in 1952 to power

its smelter in Kitimat on the Pacific coast). It has now proposed constructing a new aluminum smelter in central British Columbia. One of its contemplated sites is located within the traditional trapping and hunting territory of the Saik'uz Whut'enne.

Alcan's proposed development has been resisted by the Carrier Sekani Tribal

Council, which fears that, among other long term effects, the lower water tables resulting from further hydro electric development will threaten the annual sockeye run. Consequently, study of the environmental and social impacts of Alcan's expansion was co-ordinated by the tribal council on behalf of its member bands.

Nonetheless, the Carrier are not united in their strategies to protect the environment. Individual women of Saik'uz have joined local environmental activists struggling to minimize rather than to prevent entirely further damage to the Nechako

River, a strategy disapproved of by the tribal council leaders. Also divisive at both the band and tribal levels is support for Alcan development voiced by individuals who hope that it may lead to employment for Carrier men.

55 Further conflict is generated when voluntary associations take up the issue, as

I will discuss later. Suffice it to say here that in 1983, Alcan, along with other corporations and community service groups, provided funds for job creation schemes directed towards status and nonstatus youth who had particular difficulty obtaining jobs. Acceptance of these jobs by a voluntary association with executive members from Saik'uz created further tensions with the tribal council.

The Carrier Sekani tribal council also co-ordinates research and negotiations for the Carrier's specific and comprehensive land claims. DIAND policy is to fund the collective claims of a number of small bands rather than to consider each band's claims independently. The Saik'uz Whut'enne, therefore, do not negotiate their claims directly with DIAND, or with any other federal or provincial agency including the courts, but act through the tribal council's consultants and legal advisers.

Nor does the band council have autonomy with respect to constitutional negotiations surrounding aboriginal political rights. Again, representation of band concerns is in the hands of the tribal council. At the time of research, the only issue affecting constitutional negotiations for aboriginal rights that a band could confront independently was the question of women's Indian status and band membership.

At that time, the Indian Act, Section 12(1)(b), ruled that a woman lost her status and band membership upon marriage to a non-Indian. Children of the marriage were also considered nonstatus Indians. The reverse was not true. Non-Indian women married to Indian men were granted Indian status, and so were the children of the marriage.

56 Loss of status and band membership created social tensions. Women without status were stripped of their right to reserve residence, to burial in the reserve cemetery, and to the social services offered by DIAND. For many nonstatus Saik'uz

Whut'enne, the most bitter loss was free access to their traditional food resources.

The presence of nonstatus Indians on the Saik'uz reserve and their struggle to regain rights divides families and the community. Some families support the struggle for reinstatement and argue for provision of housing and other privileges to selected nonstatus families. Others oppose the residence of nonstatus women and uphold the Indian Act on the grounds that women should join their husbands' communities and raise their children there.

Following years of protest from Indian women across Canada and their appeal for international intervention from the Human Rights Committee under

Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, the federal government moved to end the discriminatory practice set out in 12(1)(b).

In 1982, by means of a Governor General's proclamation, the federal government granted suspension of Section 12(1)(b) to individual bands upon their request

(Schwartz 1986:330-31). It was not until 1984, that the Saik'uz band council exercised this option. Exemption from Section 12(1)(b) did not, of course, end the controversy over status and membership issues. Individual and band council interventions are affected by political lobbying groups, including the tribal council's delegations to constitutional debates and urban-based native women's groups who

57 are locked in a contest with one another over constitutionally guaranteed sexual

equality and a band's right to determine its membership (ibid.).

Political decision making pertaining to widely-shared social problems is also

influenced by the presence of community associations as well as by chapters of

provincial voluntary associations. As this study will show, women have relied on

voluntary associations much more frequently than men. In some instances,

particularly when the provincial government must be confronted on environmental,

educational, and social issues, the women join intercultural associations and/or work

closely with native women's organizations. Women join national organizations funded

by federal agencies such as Health and Welfare and the Women's program of the

Secretary of State. These organizations operate independently of elected councils

in the struggle to transform the social conditions of economic dependency:

unemployment, alcohol and drug abuse, substandard educational achievement, and family crises including child apprehension and conflict.

The political issues confronting the Saik'uz Whut'enne are complex. Like any other community, Saik'uz is subordinated to provincial and federal mandates. The band council, cannot effect decisions of major importance. Environmental concerns, land claims, and economic development are mediated through the Carrier Sekani

Tribal Council. Where band council decisions can be executed, in matters of purely local concern such as housing allocation and employment, personal and public interests flow together in a complex interchange of individual, family, and community competition for scarce resources.

58 The character of Saik'uz politics is further complicated by the interventions of the council's administrative staff and advisory committees and by the interventions of voluntary associations. Through this intricate web of bureaucratic structures and voluntary associations, Saik'uz Whut'enne attempt to maintain control over their own lives. Before proceeding with an analysis of this process, and the particulars of women's involvement within it, it will be useful to consider the historical development of the Saik'uz band, paying particular attention to changing gender relations and the differential impact of colonization and industrialization upon women and men.

59 CHAPTER THREE

HISTORY OF THE SAIK'UZ WHUT'ENNE

Introduction

Although my concern is with the contemporary, political circumstances of

Carrier women, a review of early Carrier history and culture is required in order to understand current world views and social interactions. This chapter aims to reveal the historical transformation of economic relationships that have been a major factor in shaping the nature and quality of gender relationships. As others have demonstrated, the causes of women's equality or subordination are internal to social systems (Sacks 1979:104-05; Albers 1983:179; Bourque and Warren 1981:82,211;

Leacock 1986). Hence, women's roles must be analyzed in their historical and social contexts. The view is taken that this economic history is best seen in terms of the shifting fortunes of female versus male dominated institutions and economic advantages because, as this chapter will illustrate, from the demise of aboriginal subsistence economy to the present, economic advantages have accrued to women and men unequally.1 I suggest that this swing in relative fortunes of women and

1 Margaret Blackman demonstrated a similar process for the Haida women. While she never argues that economic advantages resulted in clear political dominance, she does illustrate that women benefited from some stages of colonialism and suffered from others (Blackman 1982). Albers analyzes the

60 men has played an important role in shaping women's current socio-political position.

The elders' accounts in this chapter are taken from persons born in the first

15 years of the twentieth century or earlier. Taped oral histories of one former village chief, now deceased, were made available from his daughter. The excerpts of informants' statements are taken from taped interviews with nine elders: four women whose parent or grandparents lived at Cheslatta,2 one woman with a parent from Shelley, a man and a woman who identify themselves as Tatukwoten, one woman with a parent from Nadleh, and one man with parents from Nulki and

Tachick. Information from these elders was supplemented with interviews of two

Nadleh elders (sisters) whose parents had been raised at Saik'uz. Another elderly woman, who preferred not to be taped, provided some stories of her grandmother and great-grandmother, both of whom lived at Nulki during the nineteenth century.

Three of the narrators descend from families without claims to high status as ascribed by traditional culture; the remaining either are direct descendants of nineteenth century clan leaders and village chiefs, or are women married to men directly descended from clan leaders and village chiefs.

The chapter begins with a brief discussion of aboriginal social organization

contradictions of colonialism for Sioux women and concludes that during periods of female economic advantages the balance of power shifts in favour of women (Albers 1983).

2 One elder spoke only Carrier, therefore taped translations were provided by her daughter.

61 and the impact of the fur trade. It concentrates on the ramifications of settlement/missionization, and modernization.

Aboriginal Social Organization

Northern Athapaskan social organization was not uniform; diversity not only existed between various Athapaskan groups, but between the localized socio- territorial units, bands, of each group. Although it was earlier assumed that Eastern

Athapaskan bands were patrilineal and patrilocal (Steward, 1961), it is now commonly argued that bilateral kinship ties provided the basic social unit through which critical social obligations were instituted. (Helm 1965; Riches 1981:18;

Vanstone 1974:46; Wilson 1987:239). The Western Athapaskan of British Columbia,

Yukon Territory, and Alaska had matrilineal descent groups (sibs and/or moieties or phratries) with hereditary leaders.

Carrier socio-economic organization was equally diverse. The Algatcho, according to Goldman (1963), were essentially egalitarian with superimposed ranked patrilineal crest groups borrowed from the Bella Coola. The Lower Carrier of

Kluskus and Nazko were neither stratified nor divided into clans (Kew, cited in Tobey

1981:419). The Babine (Western) Carrier, however, were organized into ranked matriclans that controlled resource areas and whose members publicized their social status by potlatching (Jenness 1943). Saik'uz Whut'enne also had matriclans and potlatching, as did the Central Carrier of Stuart Lake.

The theoretical implications of this diversity are significant. Goldman (1963) and Steward (1961) argue that matrilineal organization and potlatching were

62 borrowed from coastal societies. Hudson disagrees; he asserts that ranked matriclan organization provided the framework for local resource control and access to resources of other productive groups (1983:71). Conversely, Matson suggests few resources could have been easily controlled, and community ownership of fishing weirs was more likely than clan ownership (Matson 1985:250). Kew (cited by

Tobey 1981:419) suggests organizational diversity may be the consequence of environmental variation. De Laguna (1971) asserts that matrilineality was very ancient among the Athapaskans. Dyen and Aberle (1974:410,418) postulate that most

Athapaskans, including the Carrier, were originally matrilineal. Aberle believes "that rank was a feature of early Athapaskan social organization in the linguistic subgroup that Dyen and he label 'Canadian,' and that where egalitarian band organization is found, it is a secondary development" (personal communication June 14, 1989).

Legros found that nineteenth century Tutchone society was stratified; rich families monopolized trading relations and the best resource areas; poor families lived as social inferiors or inhabited the poorest ecological zones (Legros 1985:38,62).

Aberle points to the fact that the Tutchone recognized a hereditary nobility, the dannozhi. while the Carrier use dunezah to designate their nobility. Conversely,

Ridington points out that among the egalitarian Beaver, who use dunne-za to refer to themselves as a people, the term has no connotation of nobility (Ridington

1978:iii). The alternative hypotheses are either the term was applied first by Proto-

Athapaskans to a high ranking social division and used later by some groups as a self-identifying reference, or the reverse obtained. Its use to indicate stratification

63 among the Northern Tutchone and the Carrier, however, suggests its reference to a ranked position is earlier.3

The 'Uda' Dune

According to creation stories of the Saik'uz Whut'enne, the 'uda' dune, or "first people," settled at Tatuk.4 Stas, the creator, gave each family a kevoh.5 a hunting territory, and taught the people to manage the land and resources. Each kevoh was occupied by a sadeku. a bilateral extended family.6 Residence patterns appear to have been neolocal, although there may have been a virilocal preference (Goldman

1963:335).

The first gathering of the 'uda' dune, called by Stas, is said to have provided

3 I am grateful to Dr. Aberle for bringing this to my attention.

4 There are two sources for these stories: taped oral histories dictated by a man, now deceased, who was born in the 1880s and who is considered to have been well-informed about his parents' and grandparents' eras, and a man some 20 years younger whose ancestors are from Tatuk. He, too, has an extensive knowledge or oral history and a large repertoire of traditional stories.

5 The term keyoh is said by the elders of Saik'uz to take its meaning from yoh. house, but in fact the term most frequently indicates the hunting area and fishing sites of the residential group. Walker et al.(1974:117) provide two meanings for keyoh: town and country. Aberle (personal communication 1988) notes that the Navajo kevah is a cognate with the Carrier term. The Navajo keyah refers to a "person's place," that is one's "home and surroundings." This corresponds to the meaning of the Carrier keyoh. Navajos offer a very different folk etymology for the term; they "gloss the ke of kevah as foot, and thus one's home is the place where one places one's foot."

6 Goldman states that the Algatcho sadeku consisted of "a group of siblings [sic], their wives and children" (1963:334). He argues that residential groups were bilateral. Following Goldman, Grossman (1965) describes the residential groups as non-unilineal descent groups.

64 the prototype for subsequent gatherings, the du qhe hu'telh-dulh. or "the big gathering." Each family appointed a buts' owhudilhzulh-un. the "first person," to mediate interfamily disputes and to negotiate intergroup relations. Oral tradition states that as the people multiplied, they found they needed a system of

"government" with undisputed leaders to mediate "all the problems of the people."

Thus, say the elders, the big gathering was transformed to the potlatch, balhats. where authority resided with the clan leaders.

We cannot be certain when the matrilineal system with its ranked positions and potlatches first appeared among the Saik'uz Whut'enne.7 We do know that it existed by the mid-nineteenth century. By then, if not much earlier, they were divided into matrilineal clans, each with names, crests, and other intangible property held by its members. The Central Carrier were incorporated into the potlatch complexes of their coastal neighbours (Goldman 1963; 1941; Hudson 1972).8

Early observers have left us contradictory accounts of women's position relative to men. Nevertheless, there exists considerable evidence strongly suggesting that to a large degree women enjoyed the same social opportunities as

7 Tobey (1981) provides a succinct statement on the debate concerning the antiquity of the potlatch and matrilineality among the Carrier. See, as well, Bishop (1983), Dyen and Aberle (1974), and Hudson (1983).

8 Whether or not the term balhats (balhach Walker et al.) displaced the use of du qhe hu'telh-dulh to refer to ceremonial feasts is unclear. Making a statement general to the Northwest Coast, Jorgensen (1980:145) states, "It is very likely that the development of the potlatch from distributions was a rather recent phenomenon stimulated by the desire of Europeans for furs and hides and the desire of Northwest Coast natives for trade goods...."

65 did men. Goldman unequivocally describes the Lower Carrier as egalitarian.

"Because of a relatively strong stress upon sex equality, the sex factor was of little significance" (1963:356). Within the sadeku. "the first born of a line of siblings, male or female, was the 'boss'" (Goldman 1963:358). Leadership beyond the sadeku was achieved; women and men became known as meotih. "chief (Goldman

1963:360,362). Speaking of the Stuart Lake Carrier, McLean maintains that, because of their significant economic contributions, women enjoyed a higher social esteem and greater privileges than known amongst other native groups (1932:180).

The residential group formed an independent unit of production and consumption. The gender division of labour was flexible. MacKenzie commented that "[men] take a greater share in the labour of women than is common among the savage tribes" (MacKenzie July 16; quoted by Sheppe 1962:210; also see

Harmon 1903:249). Productive activities were organized by senior women and men.

Women gained prestige and economic importance with age as they assumed responsibilities for organizing women's task groups. A male elder states,

Each family had two people in charge, like a boss. The mother was in charge of the girls and the father was in charge of the boys. And they trained them how to prepare food for drying and storage. That's what the mothers teach their daughters. And the boys learn how to trap and how to hunt. Wood was their chore and they were taught by their fathers.

It appears that the flexible gender division of labour permitted work to be shared by a marital couple and militated against the denigration of routine chores within the

66 camp, while at the same time, gender-discrete work groups provided a basis for gender autonomy.

According to Hudson (1983:58) and Cranny (1986), primary resources, in order of importance, were fish, small game, and berries. Large mammals, being relatively scarce and difficult to obtain, were of minor significance. It appears, therefore, that women may have contributed the bulk of subsistence foods.ln spring, women netted and trapped spawning fish and returning waterfowl. During the summer salmon run, they fished with dip nets, usually upstream of the barricades or traps utilized by men, and split, cleaned and dried the salmon. When not busy with the salmon, women foraged for berries, which they also dried and stored for winter consumption. At the end of the salmon run, they travelled to their lakeside fishing sites (Morice 1904:21), to harvest and preserve Rocky Mountain white fish and char. Throughout the winter months, women and men snared, fished, and trapped, the women working close to home, the men further afield. Women stored the winter provisions in caches over which they exercised the rights of distribution.

According to one elderly man:

The women dried it and then put it in their caches.... I guess the women had their own boss. But the women worked together and they shared what they put up, just like we do today.

According to Morice, netting fish was associated with women's supernatural powers (1910:141), while berry production was highly prized (1910:21; n.d.:192,198).

Very likely association of supernatural powers with women's fishing reflects the

67 importance of fresh water fish to the diet and the significance of women's work.

McLean correctly links the high status of women to their subsistence production:

Among this tribe ... the women are held in much higher consideration than among other Indians: they assist at the councils, and some ladies of distinction are even admitted to the feasts. This consideration they doubtless owe to the efficient aid they afford in procuring the means of subsistence. The one sex is as actively employed during the fishing season as the other. The men construct the weirs, repair them when necessary, and capture the fish; the women split them up-a most laborious operation when salmon is plentiful-suspend them on the scaffolds, attend to the drying, &c. They also collect berries, and dig up the edible roots that are found in the country, and which are of great service in years of scarcity. Thus the labour of the women contributes as much to the support of the community as that of the men (1932:180).9

Women and men had equal access to valued resources. Although the data are

sketchy on the question of inheritance, it seems women and men inherited different

resource tracts and owned different property.10 Morice stresses women's ownership

of fishing and berry grounds and fish nets (1904:21; 1907:187; 1910:427;421).

There is no indication that the development of ranked society disadvantaged

9 Jorgensen (1980: 151) states that "men dominated fishing pursuits everywhere in western North America," and argues further that men wove the basketry traps attached to weirs. This statement contradicts McLean and Harmon who describe women making fishing baskets and nets.

10 Goody has coined the term "homogeneous inheritance" to denote sex-linked transmission of property. He argues that modes of inheritance affect the arrangement of marriages and the nature of clans. While the Carrier data are not clear on inheritance practices, sex-linked property transmission does not appear to have alienated women from their fathers' resource areas as Goody suggests is the norm in Africa (Goody 1976:6-7). Apparently, women (or their husbands) were free to take resources in their fathers' territories after marriage.

68 women vis-a-vis men. Names and titles passed through the matriline to women and

men, although men may have been favoured (Morice 1889:125; 142; 1906:202;

McLean 1932:180). Speaking of the Lower Carrier, Goldman declares,

social status did not imply political power, [and] it is evident that rank distinctions were for the most part of no extraordinary social significance (1963:359).

Morice suggests that leaders' authority was more persuasive than obligatory

(1889:143). Evidently, high ranking women and men exercised similar influence

(ibid.:124). Harmon (1903:209,261), Jenness (1943:501,521), McLean (1932:180,182) and Morice (1932:41; 1889:150) all mention the active participation of high ranking women at feasts and potlatches, and McLean and Morice stress the relative privileges these women enjoyed vis-a-vis lower ranking men and women (McLean

1932:182; Morice 1889:151).

The Fur Trade 1806-1862

The Northwest Company brought the fur trade directly to the Carrier in 1806. As individuals obtained personal credit from and traded directly with the trading companies, trapping technology became available to all and its returns became viewed as individual property (Hudson 1983:85,86,88,103). Individualized dependence on an outside economic institution launched fundamental changes in social organization and resource management. Hudson suggests individual access to trapping technology undermined dunezah control over fur production (1983:86).

Bishop argues that ... "the atomizing effect of the fur trade ... made it difficult for nobles to accrue much power" (1983:154-155). Cranny concurs, asserting that as

69 early as the 1820s, depopulation in conjunction with individualized production resulted in smaller socio-economic units, undermining the influence of the dunezah

(1986:80).

The traders attempted to manipulate indigenous social hierarchies to their own end. While they sought personal relations with women, in hope of gaining influence over their male kin, the traders granted special social and economic privileges to influential men whom they dubbed "chiefs." These men received annual gratuities (Mulhall 1980:193), the best jobs and deferential treatment (Hudson

1983:94). Nonetheless, neither the village chief nor the dunezah had much control over production (Morice 1978:199; Hudson 1983:90,94). Whatever the effects may have been on dunezah control of production, potlatching persisted, and high ranking women lost neither social prestige nor access to names and titles.

The impact of commodity production on the gender division of labour is not clear. The residential unit remained the subsistence production unit, and female leaders continued to organize women's collective labour. The fur trade may have enhanced women's productive significance. For even as they, too, trapped,11 women assumed greater responsibility for food production in order to compensate

11 Women speak of their mothers and grandmothers routinely trapping alongside the men. The most common practice for married women was to set up a line leading out of a camp they shared with her husband and children. Children were left in the camp if sufficiently independent or if an older sibling was able to assume responsibility.

70 for male reductions in hunting.12

The fur traders depended upon fish purchased from the Carrier (Harmon

1903:177; Bishop 1983:155). If, as Cranny (1986:71) proposes, fur production was

in conflict with fish production, it is plausible that women engaged in greater fish

production than formerly the case. Given their traditional control over surpluses of

dried foods, they may have traded it as well.13 Unfortunately, there is no record of

the extent of independent female trade. The fur traders' records speak only of a

general category of "women"; individual transactions are not listed. Studies of

trading practices elsewhere, however, reveal that men often acted as brokers for

women in the face of European preference for negotiating with men (Klein 1980;

Littlefield 1987).

In short, the shift to individualized dependence on trade does not appear to

have created a sharp division between a male/public and female/private economy.

The collective and public nature of women's work persisted. Neither women's

leadership within the residential group nor their participation in economic exchange

12 Others have argued that women's increased subsistence production has led to the creation of a private/public division of production and resulted in women's subordination. Leacock goes so far as to conclude that universally commodity production benefits men at the expense of women, but the basis of her claim has been questioned by Anderson, who re-examined Leacock's analysis of the Montagnais-Naskapi (Anderson 1985; Leacock 1980; 1986), and has been found inapplicable to the colonial experience of the Coastal Algonkian (Rothenberg 1980).

13 It is interesting to compare the Carrier with neighbouring groups. MacDonald provides ethnographic evidence for Gitksan women controlling cache pits, particularly during periods of hostility (1984:70-71). Littlefield (1987) demonstrates that on the coast female trade was far more extensive than previously realized.

71 and distribution, was undermined directly.

Settlement 1862-1910

The last third of the nineteenth century and the first decades of the twentieth,

was an era of rapid flux between periods of relative prosperity and considerable

hardship. The Cariboo Gold Rush of 1858 created a brief period of prosperity.

Enterprising women and men established pack services, hauling goods from

Quesnel to Saik'uz and beyond (Knight 1978:245). When the business of free

traders,, who came to compete with the Hudson Bay Company failed, men from

Saik'uz established their own "stores and trading posts" to serve the Indian and non-

Indian populations. A male elder recollects:

Before my time they had Hudson Bay here. I don't remember it. I was told. Another Boston man [American] put up a store. I don't remember his name. He is the one who made the Hudson Bay broke because he was putting up sales. He went broke and everything quit. [Then] the Indian people themselves had little stores. They used to get their stock from Quesnel.... To get their supplies they used boat and horses to go to Quesnel. All the stores were quite a distance from here and by doing that, getting supplies at Quesnel, they got better prices for their furs.

As the same man recalls, when transportation services were taken over by white

men, Carrier men became the employees.

At last there came a scow to get supplies and it employed eleven men. My dad built that scow and they made two or three trips to Quesnel in the summer. He used to bring in supplies for the white settlers who moved in around here.

One aftermath of the Cariboo gold rush was the influx of white settlers. They came to settle and farm, and in their first years employed Carrier men to saw timber,

72 to pack goods, to clear land, and to tend livestock. Apparently the village chief directed the labour contracted to the settlers on a piece-work basis, for example, a set sum per acre cleared.

The demise of the Hudson Bay monopoly undermined women's productive roles. Native food and hand-crafted products declined in value as free traders imported European food and goods (Fisher 1977:111; Elliot 1958:155). Hudson Bay traders dismissed female Carrier labourers. The influx of miners and free traders generated interracial tensions. Euro-Canadian men assumed "rights" to Carrier women; frequently mistreated them; and abandoned women and children without provision for their welfare (Fisher 1977:100,113; cf. Morice 1905:316). Carrier men complained to the colonial authorities that "miners abused their women and were generally insulting-accusations corroborated by Euro-Canadian observers (Fisher

1977:100).

In the midst of economic expansion, the Saik'uz Whut'enne experienced rapid depopulation; the 1862 smallpox epidemic wiped out their southern neighbours at

Blackwater and decimated the Tatukwoten and other southern residential groups of the Nulkiwoten.14 It is not clear if the subsequent movement to the permanent village of Saik'uz enhanced the authority of male leaders, in particular the village chiefs who mediated community relationships with Euro-Canadians. By 1890, the entire resource area surrounding Saik'uz was associated with Chief Paul (Kelcho). A descendant of

14 According to Duff, the entire Athapaskan population of B.C. stood at 8,800 in 1835. By 1885, it was reduced to 3,750 (1964: 39).

73 Paul offered the following description of his ancestor's role:

All this was Chief Paul's territory. He was in charge if anything went wrong. For the traplines there was a headman. The headman invited those who had no line to trap, with him. Sometimes a line was no good. Then that guy went to the headman and he [the headman] fixed him up.

The chief's influence, however, may have been limited by the economic crisis

of the 1890s and further depopulation. Although the population counts of Indian

agents show only minor increases and decreases from 1891 to 1910 (Table 1), there

is evidence that a series of epidemics struck Saik'uz (Morice 1978:195). Saik'uz

Whut'enne tell us that residential groups were reduced to a few members, making

their continued independence as productive units impossible, and altering their

resource exploitation patterns. Fur resources were seriously depleted. Low salmon

runs threatened survival and created new needs for imported provisions (HBCA B.

188/b/15, fo. 285 cited by Hudson 1983:97).

People worked out various compromises between subsistence and commodity

production and wage labour. To diversify their economic base, the Carrier of Saik'uz

turned to agricultural production, and men travelled further afield in search of wages.

Families either left to join relatives elsewhere or retreated to their lakeshore

settlements where they had their gardens, hay meadows, and fishing stations

(Cranny 1986:90). Where some families had been wiped out or forced to move

elsewhere, resource areas remained unused. Furthermore, the turn to migrant wage

labour meant that some men who had routinely and intensely trapped and hunted

74 Table 1

Department of Indian Affairs' Population Estimates for the Stoney Creek Indian Band 1891-1920 by 5 Year Averages

Years Population

1891-1895 97 1896-1900 97 1901-1905 103 1906-1910 110 1911-19151 161 1916-19202 109

1. In 1911 an Indian Agent was stationed in Vanderhoof. The large increase in population undoubtedly reflects greater accuracy in recording the true population. Prior to 1911, the estimates were derived from various sources by the Indian Agents at the West Coast Agency.

2. In 1918 one third of the band died from Spanish influenza.

Source: All data are taken from DIAND Annual Reports apart from 1916-1920 which includes figures reported by Father Coccola OMI in Records of the Oblate Missions of British Columbia (Microfilm UBCL).

75 were no longer doing so. In some instances, women took over from the absent

men. In other cases, because of the declining fur resources, this made no sense.

Although trapping was less intense, it was no less valued, as one woman explains.

They still went out. They trapped just a little maybe to make a bit of money and to teach the kids. That way the kids would be able to survive and to be trappers later.

Knowledge of trapping and bush remained "precious" and was seen as the birthright

for future generations.

All that time, the old timers didn't make much of a living just trapping. Since then they started doing other things, but the lines are still there for the young generations. When we don't hunt out there, the animals regenerate for the next bunch to come along. The bush is always there, and its owned just like before.

During this period, status-bearing goods purchased from traders and commercial

centres were not as readily available to women as to men. While men laboured

directly for cash, women produced primarily for domestic use. On the whole, it

was men who participated in the emerging public economic sector and in the

mediating institutions imposed by missionaries and government officials.

Church and State Intervention

At the same time that they faced grave economic and social disruptions from

resource scarcity and depopulation, the Saik'uz Whut'enne converted to Catholicism.

Members of the Order of The Oblates of Mary Immaculate began regular visits to Saik'uz in 1868. To strengthen their own authority, the priests created a quasi- military hierarchy that would adhere first to church law and second either to the state

76 or to indigenous tradition. High ranking men were selected as "chiefs," "captains,"

"subcaptains," "watchmen," and "soldiers" (Morice 1930:54).

It now became possible for the men of one family to assume several influential

positions: brokers with the fur traders and settlers, church chief or captain, and village chief. Often, as was the case with Chief Paul (circa 1892), one man acted

in all these capacities. Patrilineal succession to the positions became the general

rule and continues to the present. Descendants of the first church chiefs of the

Nulkiwoten and Tachickwoten continue to hold these honorary positions.

Conversion to Catholicism had far reaching consequences for Carrier women.

They were barred from public meetings, chastised for intervening in community affairs, and encouraged to abandon wage labour and trapping when it took them from the village. Men were encouraged to assume authoritarian roles. For example, two Oblate priests, Fathers Morice and Coccola, chastised the men of Stoney Creek and Fraser Lake for being too easily led by women (Fiske 1981:100). In other words, the Oblates struggled to impose a strict dichotomy between female and male labour and a clear hierarchy of male authority and female submission. Moreover, the potlatch, outlawed in 1884, was censured by the church chiefs, forcing it underground, and further reducing women's access to public acclamation and leadership roles.

In the eyes of the state, the church, and the general public, Indians were never perceived as businessmen nor even primarily as labourers. Rather, state and church policies concentrated on transforming their subsistence/commodity

77 production economy to one of subsistence agriculture. When reserves for the

Saik'uz Whut'enne were established in 1892, a prime consideration was the inclusion of sufficient agricultural land (Report of Indian Reserve Commissioner, Department of Indian Affairs Annual Report 1892:265).

In fact, farming efforts had preceded both the Oblate missionaries and the

Indian Agents, who did not begin regular visits to the area until the 1890s. Under state policy and church influence, agricultural efforts increased, and the Saik'uz men were soon known as "progressive" and excellent farmers. Despite small land

holdings, limited tools and draught animals, as well as the extended absences of

men who were working elsewhere, initial attempts at agriculture were successful. In

1893, a provincial survey team noted that "The Indians in the Nechaco raise potatoes of a very good quality, turnips, cabbages, and onions" and reported that their livestock "was generally in first class condition in the spring" (B.C. Sessional Papers

1894:992,996). In fact, their competitive rearing and selling of livestock incited envy and resentment among their white competitors (Allard 1913: Oblate Records, UBCL

AW1 R4664). In 1916, the Indian Agent described the Saik'uz Whut'enne as

"industrious; progressive and provident," and "the most highly advanced Indians in the Agency" (Department of Indian Affairs Annual Report 1916).

Eager to expand their farms, the people sought additional aid in the form of implements, supplies, stock, and instruction from the government. An elderly man remembers that "everyone wanted to farm. They were all going to make it in this way." Agricultural work was adjusted to the existing seasonal round of the men,

78 who undertook heavy farm labour only in the late spring and fall. At other times they

were away, trapping or working for wages. Consequently, the women's seasonal

round was also transformed. Women and elders were left to tend the livestock and

fields. Women who had once merged child care with bush activities were now

bound to the village.

In the absence of men, women shared responsibilities and the fruits of their

labour. Co-operatively, they produced items for trade with the settlers and provided

care to orphans and elders who had lost their families in epidemics. An elderly

woman describes how her own grandmother managed.

Granny raised her kids here [at Saik'uz]. Auntie went out on the trapline and she never married until there weren't no little kids left. Granny had a garden and she went to Corkscrew [fishing site not far from the village on the opposite lake shore] to dip the suckers. In that way she kept everybody. And it was only then that the men went away to work, down to Quesnel with the pack horses and over to the other side of Fort George. While the men were away the women took care of all the business. Everybody they looked after, the old people, the sick, and the babies. They got together, those womans [sic], and worked and shared out so no one went hungry. And the kids, they hauled the water and made the wood for the old folks.

Although farming could never have succeeded without the labour of women, their critical contribution was recognized neither by the state nor by the church. The

Indian agent subdivided farming allotments according to the notion of male-headed nuclear families. Initially, women gained possession rights only when widowed or when in the absence of male heirs, they inherited from their parents. This sex-biased land appropriation clearly benefited men. Farming created new role relationships

79 among men. Successful farmers, who were rewarded by greater state assistance than was granted to others, could extract labour from other men, a practice which further enhanced social differences among men and which created asymmetrical

relations of prestige between men and women.

In spite of the Carriers' eagerness to farm and the assistance of the state,

agriculture remained limited. Climate, a lack of capital, the absence of local markets,

and high transportation costs prevented the development of large-scale production.

It is not surprising, therefore, that the Carrier sought greater economic diversity.

Economic Expansion and Settlement 1911-1950

i) Economic Diversity15

The arrival of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway in 1914 and state intervention

into fishing and trapping created more dramatic changes in productive relations. As early as 1911, the men of Saik'uz were engaged in contract work for the railroad company. In 1913, the Stuart Lake Indian Agent noted that On recommendation contractors did not hesitate to give contracts of clearing right of way, ties and cordwood cutting, and freighting to the Indians who in every case made good (Department of Indian Affairs, Annual Report 1913:269).

Although they faced some competition from white settlers and transients, Carrier men were at an advantage: they were supported by the subsistence production of women and children. Entire families gathered at the tie camps scattered along the railway line. Working beside the men, women peeled, hewed, and hauled the ties.

15 The patterns of labour described here were common throughout British Columbia. For comparative accounts see Knight 1978, McDonald 1987.

80 Assisted by their children, they also hunted, fished, snared, and performed routine domestic chores.

During World War I, with most of the settlers away, the Carrier gained a virtual monopoly in the tie business. With men employed at ranches, more women entered into tie production. "Why we hacked all those ties, our mothers and aunties went to work there when the men went away," explained a woman. Another said, "If the men weren't here to do it, we did."

Despite their active involvement in tie production, women never had the same economic opportunities as men did. Women were unable to bid on production contracts and, when working with their husbands or other male kin, they rarely received individual wages. Nevertheless, women were not forced into a subordinate position within the Saik'uz economy. Tie production could neither sustain all families through its earnings, nor ensure a relatively egalitarian redistribution of its wealth throughout the community. Through control of their food distribution, women earned prestige as providers and influenced community decision making. Their subsistence production, more than cash earnings, remained critical for the overall well being of the community at large. One elderly woman recalls her adolescent years, when she worked alongside her mother and grandmother.

In the twenties the men worked out every-where. Sometimes we were left alone for a long time. The women did it all then, and they fed everybody. If they [the men] came back without money or supplies we fed them too. We fed everybody in this way.

Other avenues were open to women seeking an independent income. Fur

81 prices rose, and women trapped their own lines or those belonging to their husbands, as two women recall.16

My mom was an expert trapper and did her share of trapping just like a man. I learned how to trap by watching what my Mother and Auntie done. When I got married no one had to teach me....

My mother-in-law came here from Cheslatta when she got married. Right from then to an old woman she trapped.

Following completion of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railroad in 1914, men established small businesses that would serve settlers' needs: transportation services, lumber supplies, and sundry labour including blacksmithing and carpentry.

These businesses were short lived. The town of Vanderhoof expanded quickly.

White businesses soon displaced Carrier entrepreneurs and forced them into manual labour. Men were granted contracts to clear large tracts of land but, as at the tie camps, the work was carried on by entire families. Mothers packing young children, older children, and related single adults all worked together.

As with tie production, farm labour and land clearing offered little opportunity for women who sought an independent income. Frequently, men alone received payment for the work performed by their wives and families. Except in the rare cases where the settlers needed domestic labour, women were not hired directly. At the same time, women who independently sought wage labour were

16 Trapping was common to the Carrier women of Moricetown and Cheslatta also. See Niezel and Niezel (1978) for the reminiscences of some Moricetown women.

82 censured by the priests. Although women were once again disadvantaged by exclusion from wage earnings, they were not forced into economic dependency.

Despite wage and contract labour, the Carrier remained dependent upon the subsistence production of women and children. Often men, rather than women, were economic dependents.17

ii) Changes in Subsistence Production

In the first quarter of the twentieth century, the state extended its control over the people and resources of the Central Interior. In the process, the Saik'uz

Whut'enne lost control over their traditional means of production and experienced dramatic changes in the gender division of labour.

Bowing to popular opinion and pressure from the commercial salmon industry, which had grown rapidly from 1880 to 1900 and which feared over-exploitation of the resource, the Federal Department of Fisheries moved to abolish native use of fish weirs and traps throughout the province. In 1911, the chiefs of the Fort Fraser and

Fort St. James bands signed the Barricade Agreement, which promised state delivery of nets to each family, farming implements, protection of fishing sites, and a vocational school. The agreement stipulated that the weirs be destroyed and that nets be used only under conditions set forth by The Department of Fisheries (Lane

17 Hudson makes the same point with respect to the Tl 'azt 'enne. "no Tl'azt'enne could afford to become dependent on wage labour.... the women and children fished and ran small traplines to support the families (1983:135; see also 1979:4). Knight speaks of similar situations elsewhere (1978:35).

83 1978).18 The transition from barricades to family owned nets brought an end to collective labour required for weirs and reinforced the shift to domestic production units (cf. Hudson 1983:108). Furthermore, since men no longer constructed communal weirs and since net fishing was traditionally women's work, men were marginalized. While women set the nets and processed all the fish, men performed ancillary work: carrying heavy loads, providing firewood, and helping with transportation. Hence, salmon fishing came to be viewed as "women's work"; with this new gender division of labour, salmon were distributed, exchanged, and sold at the discretion of the women.

Transition to net fishing reduced the fishery. Not only were insufficient nets initially supplied, but by 1914, the state had reneged on its promised delivery. At the same time, the salmon runs failed. In 1914, the catch was reduced to fewer than

400 at Nadleh (Hudson 1983:110). The fishery could no longer be depended upon, and the Carrier turned to other fish resources and game (moose were just entering

18 Imposition of state authority over resource use created tensions and ambiguity for the chief and the dunezah. These men were called upon to sign agreements with the government no matter how strongly they objected to the terms. Speaking of her father-in-law, a woman stated,

His father, that's when he was chief. He signed that fishing treaty. Couldn't even read it.... it has his mark there. But he didn't want to. He never thought he was putting to a stop our fishing. He never meant that.... I guess the bishop, him he told the chiefs to sign.

84 the region) for their subsistence.

The collapse of the salmon run did not diminish its cultural significance. By the mid-century, when the runs were once again reliable, women who were skilled in the use and care of their nets gained prestige. Today, elders recall with pride the skills of their mothers and grandmothers, explaining that it was from these women that they learned to fish:

Grandmother taught me how to set net. She was very patient. She just sat and watched me prepare it until it was right. She knew what to do and everyone respected her for it.

iii) Changes in Fur Trapping

Just as state and church agents had negotiated solely with men in matters of reserve allotments, the barricade agreement, and the establishment of education, they again ignored women when they introduced registered traplines in 1926.

Although women had always trapped and had enjoyed the same resource rights as men, they were not registered with the men as trapline owners. Initially, all traplines were registered to men. With the approval of the Indian agent, widows were granted lines only in the absence of adult male heirs. Officially, at least, state seizure of animal resource management excluded women from inheriting property of mothers, fathers, and brothers. At the same time, men were denied inheritance of their mothers' or sisters' lines.

As a consequence of trapline registration, the Saik'uz Whut'enne lost trapping

85 areas. The state transferred lines temporarily lying empty because of depopulation19 or male absence to white trappers, many of whom needed a cash return to maintain their farms. As a means to control production (Hudson 1983:136), the provincial government ignored longstanding corporate interests of extended families and clans and strove for individual ownership with father-to-son inheritance. Reluctantly, government officials conceded to "company" (shared) lines; these, however, accommodated patrilineal families rather than the matriclans. Other forms of control over fur production included quotas and seasonal closures. In 1919 and 1920 beaver trapping was prohibited.

Ironically, the barriers to women's trapping were erected at the same time women became freer to trap. In 1922, the Lejac Residential School, run by the

Sisters of Child Jesus and the Oblates, opened at Fraser Lake. Parents who placed their children in the school were now freer to trap and hunt than when they had been accompanied by young children. Women generally welcomed the greater mobility and access to independent earnings, as one explains,

All that time we were there, Granny was out trapping. Auntie, too, she trapped all over just like the men. We didn't go home then. Not until the summer when they were fishing.

Overall, the interventions of the state and church had contradictory consequences for women. The state's insistence on a net salmon fishery displaced

19 The Spanish influenza epidemic of 1918 devastated the Saikuz Whut'enne. Between 1915 and 1920 the population decrease was 32 percent (see Table 1 page 82).

86 male collective labour and reinforced the importance of female domestic production units. Moreover, the move towards a male hierarchy of leadership did not completely thwart women's influence. As the cash economy drew men away from the community, women were left to manage on their own and to take charge of community affairs, frustrating the Oblate priests' desire for male domination. The strength of women's economic position was, however, balanced by male control of cash incomes as the economy shifted away from subsistence and commodity production to wage labour. Women might well have faced serious erosion of their social position if the depression of the 1930s had not virtually wiped out opportunities for wage labour.

iv) The Depression Years 1929-1939

The depressed state of the economy brought Carrier men into unfavourable rivalry for work and resources. Competition for tie contracts was fierce. As one long-time nonnative resident of the region stated,

When we first came here [in the 1920s], my husband hired the Indians to clear the land. But after the crash [1929] he couldn't hire them anymore. He went out looking for work and got a tie contract.

Some white men viewed their Indian competition with hostility, speaking of them as

"enemies"; others tried to obtain the sub-contracts and hire Indian men as cheap labour. In the words of one woman,

then the white men got those contracts and our men went to work for them. We didn't get any contracts of our own until the war. But in the thirties we still got that work, even then we hacked for the white contractors.

87 Because the economic impact of the depression was as devastating for white

farmers, they no longer hired Carrier farmhands. One nonnative woman recalls,

Everything ground to a halt then. We got rid of livestock and stopped clearing the land. Everybody suffered, the whites and the Indians, and all the men were off looking for work. Tie contracts in the winter kept everyone going.

Men left Saik'uz to seek work. They found little, however, and faced harsh

discrimination as white men complained to the government and church leaders that they were "left out because of those Indians who take our jobs" (P.A.B.C. Records

of the Oblates). The best Carrier men could do was to work elsewhere at any type

of seasonal labour.20 Some found short-term employment in the Fraser Valley hop fields, some in the Okanagan orchards, and some in Prince George and Prince

Rupert. The few skilled workers were more fortunate than most, as one recalls.

Me and M , we did okay even then because we were carpenters. We got some work at the school [Lejac] and for the priests too.

Generally everyone suffered. Insufficient capital and external market conditions undermined their farming efforts. There were few employment opportunities for women. Some did go to the Prince Rupert fish canneries or to the Fraser Valley hop fields. They made "a very little bit of money," however, and taking their young children proved too burdensome. "We packed all those kids with us and so we couldn't work fast. The little bit of money we made didn't help." Most women

20 Figures from the Stuart Lake Agency reveal the abrupt decline in wage earnings from a regional total of $22,635 in 1929 to nothing at all in 1933 and 1934 (cited by Hudson 1983:143).

88 stayed home. One women explained,

No, we didn't do anything different. It was just harder. I told you we went house to house peddling, that's all. It was hard times because we had such a little bit of money.

She added,

We stayed put while the men went all over for work. We did the fishing, had our big gardens in them days too. You bet, them days we fed the men. They sure were glad for us women. It was our caches that kept their bellies full.

Reliance on subsistence activities of women increased. Women continued to

support their families and to produce food for general distribution. One woman

stated,

Whatever extra we had we shared. When S had the only soap in Saik'uz she shared that with everybody. Same thing with extra rice, oats, flour, fish; we women shared that. S and me, we get together with our fish, go to town and come back to give out the flour, tea, and sugar.

Women supplemented their subsistence production through trade with neighbouring farm women, exchanging food and hand-crafted items for clothing, patches for quilts, and Euro-Canadian food items. Additionally, Saik'uz Whut'enne women gave gifts of food to the farm women. A woman recalls how she and a friend

... went to the white ladies who were having a hard time. Everyone was in a bad way and we helped each other out. Fish and dried meat, that's what we would give to them. They suffered too, poor things and we helped them just like they helped us.

The deprivation of these years undermined male control over wealth. Trapping

89 incomes plummeted along with wages. The economic situation was, of course, too depressed for women to gain lasting economic advantage, but the temporary reliance on their domestic production meant women once again controlled the critical resources.

Modernization 1939-1985

i) The War Years 1939-1945

The entry of Canada into an international war brought a new burst of prosperity to the regional economy of central British Columbia. Farmers easily found markets for their produce, and local farms once again hired Carrier men. Military demand for metals also created jobs. Men obtained contracts to clear land and cut pit poles for a mercury mine near Fort St. James. Fur prices held steady, allowing women and men to earn a regular seasonal income. Experienced carpenters and skilled tradesmen found "there was no end of work. Whatever job we wanted we got."

Once again, they were drawn to distant parts of the province where they worked on road construction, farms, and timber production. An elderly man remembers,

Me, I went all over to work. Lots of work them days. In the spring we cleared land for that new highway [Alaska highway] past Prince George. In the winter we hack ties and cut pit props. The others, they went up to that mine at the fort [Fort St. James].

At Saik'uz, land clearing dominated the spring and summer months. Men and women, accompanied by all their children and camping wherever they worked, cleared land for the Vanderhoof airport, for service roads, for telecommunication services. Contracts were still given to men on a per acre basis, and, while

90 women's labour was essential, women failed to receive individual wages.

We had to clear land to get money. The airport land in Vanderhoof was cleared by us Indians. All the lands across Vanderhoof - Mrs. McKetchi, also Jean French's mom. We cleared their land. Also Cameron we cleared. For cheap wages we laboured. I had children while I was working. I had to pack them everywhere I worked, even when I chopped a tree, I had one on my back. (Sophie Thomas in Stoney Creek Indian Band 1984:11).

Several men volunteered for the forces. Some went no further than military bases in southern British Columbia, where they were found unfit for active duty.

Three men served overseas and one returned a decorated war hero. In the words of one woman,

Lots of men go, they volunteer. Lots of them come back because something wrong with them.... [My husband] went overseas for four and a half years....

Dick Patrick was a war hero. He got them medals for bravery, for running behind them enemy lines. He let everyone know what a good Indian is, a warrior just like the old timers.

ii) The Post-War Years 1946-1960

For a few years following the war, the Saik'uz Whut'enne continued to prosper.

The tie industry continued to bring lucrative contracts. At the same time, the forestry industry expanded, creating a demand for native labour. By the mid 1950s, several hundred mills were operating in the region (Hudson 1983:142). Women were hired as cooks and laundresses in the forestry camps, while men contracted hauling services.

Economic expansion once again proved unreliable. Hard times followed the

91 temporary prosperity. Fur prices declined in 1952 and commodity prices rose

(Hudson 1983:132). The regional population, which had been rising rapidly since the beginning of the century (in the first two decades it increased 195.5 per cent), swelled once again.. Between 1941 and 1951 it increased be 59.3 per cent, and in the following ten years another 84.3 per cent (Table 2). The forestry industry was transformed by mechanization, which displaced the small sawmills hiring native labour and attracted a large labour force of white men. Tie camps dwindled to a few, then disappeared altogether. Highway development brought some new jobs, but never replaced the tie industry. A women sadly recollects,

That's all there was after the tie camps, the highways and a little bit of land clearing. Our men didn't get the jobs, the whites did. Just a few went to work, and they kept the jobs. My husband, M , S , a few others did that. But there wasn't work for everybody.

Men continued to seek work elsewhere, with irregular results. Forestry training camps, sponsored by the Department of Indian Affairs, provided some work, which continued into the next decade. Men turned to unskilled labour elsewhere, in the

Okanagan fruit orchards, in the Chilcotin forests and ranches, and in more remote forest areas. Unfortunately, none of these jobs paid well or provided much security.

With the men either unemployed or locked into low paying short-term jobs, women entered the labour market in greater numbers than before.

The regional white population had a larger portion of men than women. As

Table 3 shows, men between the ages of 25 and 44 years outnumbered women of the same ages by 2,287. Of all adults over 15 years of age, women formed only

92 Table 2

Population Trends of Census Division 8, Central Interior of British Columbia 1901-1961

Year Population Increase Over Ten Years Number Percent

1901 4,523 1911 8,411 3,888 85.9 1921 17,631 9,200 109.6 1931 21,534 3,903 22.1 1941 25,276 3,742 17.4 1951 40,276 15,000 59.3 1961 74,240 33,964 84.3

Source: Regional Index of British Columbia 1966:424

93 Table 3

Adult Population of Census Division 8, • Central Interior of British Columbia 1961 By Age Group and Sex

Aqe Group Male Female Total

15-19 2,749 2,499 5,248 20-24 2,716 2,503 5,219 25-29 3,225 2,503 5,728 30-34 3,332 2,565 5,897 35-39 2,832 2,340 5,172 40-44 2,289 1,983 4,272 45-49 2,034 1,570 3,604 50-54 1,731 1,107 2,838 55-59 1,442 756 2,198 60-64 1,002 557 1,559 65 & over 1,953 1,069 3,022

Total 25,303 19,452 44,755

Source: Regional Index of British Columbia 1966:425

94 43.9 per cent of the population. Hence, work that typically falls to women, for

example domestic services or janitorial work in the service industries, became

available to Carrier women. In the 1950s, the new hospital in Vanderhoof hired

native women for its laundry and cleaning staff. Despite being gruelling, ill paid, and

undertaken in the poorest of working conditions, this work was eagerly sought by

women with large families to raise. One woman moved from the reserve to town in

order to work in the laundry and recalls:

I worked in the hospital for thirteen years. In 1958 he [her husband] lost his tie contracts so I went to work. I helped out in the laundry. All the sheets, pillow cases, gowns, everything had to be washed and ironed. We worked in pairs at the mangles. We put through the sheets together.

That was hard work. I started at 7:30 in the morning that's why I moved to town with my children. The laundry has a low roof and is full of steam. We worked like that from first thing in the morning until evening.

The hospital administrators were pleased with her work and treated her well. After several years:

I was transferred to the sewing room. I could sit all day mending or I could help out elsewhere. For a while I was in charge of the first floor [cleaning staff].... I walked to work in the morning and back home at 4:30.... After a while I invested in a better truck. A nurse told me we would lose our medical if we were off the reserve for too long, so I invested in a better truck and moved back.

At least one other woman went to work for a long period in the hospital

laundry. Still another became a practical nurse. Others did similar work at nearby fishing resorts. One woman worked full time at the hospital and spent her holidays working at the resort adjacent to the reserve: "I spent my holidays at that fishing

95 lodge even though the wages were so small. After a couple of years I quit that."

From the end of the war through to 1970, women found domestic work in private homes, motels, schools, and other public institutions. Some worked steadily for ten to fifteen years, but only a very few earned sufficient wages to be able to save for future needs or for investment. One exceptional woman actually accumulated sufficient capital to start her own ranch. She leased reserve land, held by a male cousin, for grazing her stock and raising hay. Aided by her husband, daughters, and sons, she expanded the ranch. In time, she was in a position to hire other men. One of the men explained,

[she] had a ranch here. She got some help from [her husband] but she hired us men to work too. We did the clearing and the haying, any work for her. She was real good to us. I always worked for her.

At that time, women were able not only to work for wages, but to find good markets for their handicrafts. From the late 1930s through to the end of the 1950s, the Department of Indian Affairs provided support for Indian fairs and found other markets for the woman's work. A woman recalls that,

Mr. came and picked up all our moccasins, mukluks, everything we had ready. He went to every reserve and got what the women made. He took it to Victoria, to the fair, to sell it for us. After the fair he came back with the money.

At the same time, some women lost their freedom to fish and trap as they chose. In 1949, the establishment of a day school on the reserve reduced young women's mobility. Three women recall its effect on their lives.

I still snared and trapped right here, but most of the time I

96 didn't go far. In the fall to fish for char and whitefish sometimes but not like before.

We didn't go to Clucuz Lake anymore. After that we had kids at home everyday. I sure missed that, we had a harder time getting whitefish 'cuz that was our place and we didn't have one here. We moved here from Noonla because of the school, away from our berry patch and everything.

Mom stopped trapping then. I don't think she went out after the war. Then she leased her line. She still holds onto it, and my sister will get it after her.

In 1944, the federal government introduced family allowances, payable to mothers. This partially offset their loss of a trapping income and subsistence production. The small but regular payments meant that women who were in a position to share and lend this income could exert some influence over others. The situation of the depression had emerged once again as women's subsistence production and cash earnings became the mainstay of the Saik'uz Whut'enne.

This swing in relative female and male fortunes was accentuated by further incursions of the state into resource use and management. With the increased settlement, came new conflicts over land and resources, and with that, rising state intervention in the management of natural, renewable resources. In accordance with advice of a provincial wildlife official, harvesting limits were placed upon each trapline, and "tags" were issued to control beaver exploitation. From early in the

1950s through to 1972, an Indian agent annually renewed the ownership and use of traplines registered to Indians. It was the department's policy to encourage men who had not regularly used their lines either to transfer them to another band

97 member, as approved by the department or, failing that, to sell their lines to

non-Indians.

Evidence of the efforts of the state officials to control use of the lines is found

in the individual records DIAND maintained for each trapline registered to Saik'uz

trappers. Prior to 1959, all enfranchised trappers were deleted routinely from

membership in a "trapline company" (shared line); all line owners who had been

absent to work were requested to transfer their lines; and all those who appeared

to the agent to have permanently left the reserve were either struck from company

membership or had their lines transferred to another man at the agents' discretion.

From 1959 to 1975, only one woman inherited and retained ownership of a

line. Lines that had formerly passed between sisters were arbitrarily passed from

mother to son, and lines held by women, but not used by them, were passed to

sons even when the brother and/or other matrilineal relatives requested access to

them.

Reaction to these interventions varied. Some men complained that the white

man's notions of private property and ownership could not be applied to "Indian

land," which was held by the present generation for the benefit of all the future

generations. Traplines were to the Indians what "money in the bank" would be to

a white man one argued, something which would be used for survival in the future.

Trappers pointed out that it was only because of poor prices and of the need to work elsewhere that they were not trapping. When the right time came they, or their

98 successors, would use the lines. To avoid losing their lines either by default or by transfer, several men chose to rent the lines to white men. However, these rentals,

as with all aspects of trapping, were subject to the agent's approval. In some cases

the agent concluded that the line "would be best used" by another Indian, while in

other instances leasing was encouraged. For those registered owners who did lease

their lines, greater protection over them resulted. Today, these lines tend to remain

in Indian hands and to be leased to whites. Others, attracted by immediate cash

gains, sold their lines to white trappers.

Population growth continued through the 1970s and 1980s, but at a slower pace than formerly. Between 1971 and 1986, the population of the Bulkley-Nechacko

Census division, in which Saik'uz is located, increased from 27,145 to 37,470, a growth of 27.2 per cent (Statistics Canada, Census of Canada 1971, 1986).21 The continuing expansion of the Euro-Canadian labour force further exacerbated the underemployment of the Carrier. As with other Carrier bands, the Saik'uz Whut'enne became irrelevant to the industrial labour force (cf. Hudson 1983:151).

iii) The Present

Industrial development continued at a steady pace into the 1970s and further alienated the Carrier people from their land and their past. Women continued to work in the bush, albeit on a smaller scale and closer to home, to provide fish, meat (small mammals, fowl etc.), and berries, but with decreasing returns. The men

21 Census division boundaries changed between 1966 and 1971, therefore data in Tables 2 and 3 do not extend into the 1970s..

99 also hunted, but now in competition with white men, who had the advantage of

better transportation and who regarded hunting as a sport to which they had a right.

As game decreased, state intervention into the native hunting practices grew by

means of increased enforcement of seasonal regulations and catch limits. The

traumatic turn of events in the 1950s and 1960s set the stage for the present day

economic situation, high unemployment, decreased access to subsistence

production, and an overwhelming sense of alienation from the work of the

surrounding white communities.

Summary and Conclusions

To paraphrase Leacock (1981:140): With regard to the autonomy of women,

nothing in the structure of aboriginal Carrier society necessitated special deference to men. During the precontract era women and men had equal access to

subsistence resources and exercised control over their own labour. Local leadership

rested on personal negotiation and the abilities of senior male and female members

of the resident group. On a wider level, women and men of distinction enjoyed

public acclaim and opportunities to wield influence from prominent positions within the clan system.

The situation of economic hardship that prevails today has its origins in the

changing nature of the regional political economy of three decades earlier. Although traumatic changes pushed women and men out of the labour force, and eroded the

basis of their subsistence economy, the economic autonomy of women, while weakened and threatened, was not utterly destroyed.

100 Today, as in the past, the Saik'uz Whut'enne rely on family production of subsistence. In a highly-limited way, women continue to produce subsistence goods, to control food allocation, and to obtain and control cash income independently of men.

Two important conclusions can be drawn from the data presented here. First, women's control over domestic provisions counterbalanced the negative effects of dependency upon male cash earnings. Second, efforts by the church and state to displace women from public affairs and to subordinate them to male domination were not successful.

While women's material circumstances have been sufficient for them to retain a high measure of personal autonomy, women's roles in social production and domestic provisioning are neither the only nor necessarily the most significant factors contributing to their contemporary political circumstances. Patterns of social interactions and economic specialization also have an ideological dimension. In the next chapter, I look beyond material conditions to consider the role of cultural values and sexual stereotypes in reinforcing and transforming gender relations.

101 CHAPTER FOUR

A SAIK'UZ VIEW OF CHANGING GENDER RELATIONS

Introduction

Gender relations are as much a matter of cultural tradition as they are of material circumstances. In this chapter, I look at various interpretations given to past transformations of women's social, economic and political status. My goal is to add women's views of Carrier culture and history to the ethnographic record. My emphasis is on the meanings women attribute to Carrier cosmology and to historical events. I believe that a better appreciation of the Carrier conception of the spiritual, sexual, and social condition of women will generate a clearer understanding of the way Carrier see gender relations in real life. I illustrate women's use of myths and historical narratives to legitimate their current political practices and consider how this shapes gender interaction. Two levels of interpretation are needed: an exploration of traditional gender codes embedded in myth and ritual traditions, and an interpretation of the way in which these cultural elements are taken out of their original context and given a new significance within contemporary political relations

(cf. Larsen 1983:39).

This chapter is organized into four sections. First, I turn to Carrier myth for the symbolic representation of female roles and cultural ideals. Second, I look at cultural traditions of the aboriginal period, concentrating on the ritual behaviours and social proscriptions attached to rites of passage. Outside observers' explanations are

102 contrasted with contemporary elderly women's views. Third, I describe social contexts in which women manipulate cultural elements that define traditional gender. relations and responsibilities. Finally, I turn to women's interpretations of their history, paying particular attention to their understandings of the impact of missionaries, state intrusions, and economic upheavals.

Before beginning, it is necessary to make a statement about gender-discrete interpretations of female sexuality and physiology. It has been pointed out that androcentric biases concerning female physiology have unfavourably coloured the ethnography of native women. Goldenweiser's attitude towards women typifies the

Euro-centric male biases pervading observers' accounts:

... Woman is handicapped in matters sacred by the fact that she herself is not merely a human but also a woman-a peculiar creature with a distracting and at times repulsive [emphasis added] periodicity in her life cycle, a peculiar and only partly understood relationship to the fact of birth, and a fascinating and always disturbing influence on man via sex (Goldenweiser 1937:140-142 quoted in Kehoe 1983:61).

Driver, who provides the most extensive account of girls' puberty rites, makes similar assumptions. He states that universally "menstruation, and probably everything to do with sex, is unclean" (1941:56). Perry offers a more sophisticated and useful understanding in his discussion of the variations of the female referent in Athapaskan cultures. He conceptualized femaleness as "an abstract quality with an existence independent of discrete persons and capable of imbuing and affecting individuals to varying degrees" (1977:99). He rightly suggests that "it can be handled in the same manner as other Athabaskan concepts involving power. It was neither good

103 nor bad inherently, but potentially dangerous when present in excessive degrees"

(ibid.:105).

Efforts to expose the intellectual limits of androcentric interpretations are undercut by the continuing reluctance of observers to accept indigenous women's perceptions of their lives and of the sacred or esoteric significance of their reproductive capacities. Buckley, for example, readily dismissed a young Yurok woman's positive interpretation of menstrual rules as "incredible" and as an indication that tradition had been "rationalized and reinterpreted" to conform with "modern notions of women's rights" (Buckley 1982:49). It was not until he found comparable interpretations in

Kroeber's unpublished1 Yurok data that Buckley accepted the young woman's explications of her ritual practices. This led Buckley to argue that Yurok men and women had discrete views on sacred powers: men feared menstrual pollution; women celebrated menstrual purity (ibid.:52). Wisely, he asserts, "Clearly then, there are two gender-specific views, of which only one, that of the male, has become known through published ethnographies" and that serious consideration of the contemporary feminine perspective is salient to understanding the complexities of aboriginal cosmologies (ibid.:52, 57).

The Cosmoloqical Matrix

1 According to Buckley, Yurok women provided Kroeber with detailed, unequivocally positive accounts of menstruation as a time of purity and menstrual rites as a source of personal strength and spiritual development. Yet Kroeber omitted all reference to them in his publications and never challenged male notions of female pollution and debasement. In fact, he makes regular reference to female "periodic illnesses" (e.g., 1925:80).

104 i) Selection and Analysis of the Narratives

It is beyond the scope of this work to provide a detailed account of the procedures followed in the content analysis of the selected myths and to provide a comprehensive discussion of the plots and themes of the selected myths. Briefly, the following portrait of mythological female character is drawn from an analysis of twenty-two narratives recorded by Jenness (1934), twenty of them attributed to Fort

Fraser narrators (Nadleh), and two attributed to Stoney Creek (Saik'uz) narrators, and ten narratives recorded during my own field work (Table 4). Jenness's collection is salient since elders and others engaged in cultural and educational activities possess copies of them. Included in my collection are popular stories of women humiliating federal fisheries officers by sitting on them. Versions of these tales are common among the Carrier; Saik'uz Whut'enne have their favourite renditions that locate incidents within their own territory.

My analysis of the narratives focuses primarily on the representation of female characters and appropriate feminine behaviour as these compare to male characters and masculinity. I ask: How are women depicted, and what is their relation to men?

I organize my discussion according to the following criteria:

1) personality characteristics of female actors;

2) appropriate and inappropriate social behaviour;

3) acquisition and use of medicine power; and

4) portrayal of sexuality and procreation,

Personalities are evaluated according to their display of passivity, assertiveness, self

105 Table 4

Selection of Tales from Jenness and from Fieldwork

Jenness

1. The Giant's Grandson or the Salmon Boy (Fort Fraser) 3. The Orphan Boy as a Culture Hero (Fort Fraser) 4. Variant (Fort Fraser) 6. The Woman Who Married a Grizzly (Fort Fraser) 7. The Dog Children (Hagwilget and Fort Fraser) 13. The Two Lost Sisters (Fort Fraser) 17. The Sky Boy and the Magic Arrows (Hagwilgate and Fort Fraser) 20. The Boy who had Medicine for Fish (Fort Fraser) 21. The Man who Ate his Wives (Fort Fraser) 22. The Girl who Married the Sekani (Fort Fraser) 23. The Boys' Vengeance (Fort Fraser) 30. Ayasu (Fort Fraser) 31. Chicken Hawk (Fort Fraser) 32. The Monstrous Bear (Fort Fraser) 33. The Orphan's Revenge (Fort Fraser) 34. The Magic Arrows (Fort Fraser) 35. The Bear Wife (Fort Fraser) 36. The Girls who were Carried into the Sky (Fort Fraser) 38. The Swift Runner (Fort Fraser) 40. Another Trickster Story (Stony Creek) 64. Dwarfs (a. Stony Creek) (b. Fort Fraser)

Fiske

I. Estas, The Culture Hero (male narrator) II. The Orphan Boy who Married the Chief's Daughter (male narrator) III. Galbaniyeh (female narrator) IV. Girl who Married Bear (male narrator) V. Girl who Married Dog (male narrator) VI. The Daughter-in-Law (female narrator) VII. Bopa the Prophet (two versions, a male and a female narrator) VIII. The Starving Brothers (male narrator) IX. Chinlac Massacre (male narrator) X. The Fisheries Officer (three versions, female narrators)

106 reliance, wilfulness, competence, and wisdom. Appropriate and inappropriate behaviour is characterized by kindness, altruism, selfishness, and wickedness.

Recurring characters include Old Woman, who is both a creator figure and an influential advisor to male creator heroes. Other characters include adolescent girls, female guardian animals, and wives of brutal husbands. Prominent male characters are chiefs, shamans, culture heroes,

ii) Women in Mythology

In order to understand the way the Carrier assess the role of women it is necessary to begin with what the Carrier perceive to be the beginning: the stories of the creation of the Carrier lands and social system. The creation myths depict strong images of respected and honoured women. Like other creators, Old Woman is instrumental in transforming an inchoate world to its present form. She transforms a tiny creek into the Nechako river and extends a mere five minutes of light into daytime. Old Woman is a critical intermediary between male creator heroes and their adversaries. She saves the young, and often arrogant or brash male culture heroes from the powers of Sa (the "sky god") and intervenes between evil chiefs and vulnerable youngsters.

Old Woman is a fountain of wisdom. She teaches young heroes to develop their medicine powers. She provides the knowledge to undo the wickedness of chiefs who no longer control their medicine powers and she intervenes in the vision quests of young girls. She is helpful to the young and vulnerable, a caring grandmother to orphaned children, and a counsellor to willful children and young

107 women. The cosmology of the Saik'uz Whut'enne has no male counterpart to the

Old Woman. There is no male figure, young or old, who is consistently good, wise,

and kind. In myth, Old Woman is the sole model of steadfast character, nurture,

and wisdom.

Primeval women of Carrier myth are assertive, self-reliant, and courageous.

Assertive behaviour is marked by pragmatic action underscored by clever strategy

and artifice. Women are competent in the skills of survival. Women who face

difficult situations are particularly adept at subterfuge. Through clever deception women rid themselves of brutal husbands and overpower cannibals. Others risk their own lives to help the less fortunate.

It is interesting to note that medicine power is represented by female and male

animals. Young men are aided by female guardian animals whose powers correspond to those of male guardians. There are parallel stories of marriages to

bears. A young girl takes a bear husband and a young man takes a bear wife.

Women in myth independently act as shamans. In this respect they do not differ from male characters. Members of both sexes are acclaimed for their proficiency with medicine powers. Female and male characters gain medicine power in the same fashion, but only male characters use it unwisely or cruelly. Female characters, on the other hand, invoke medicine power for personal benefit and the common good. In one episode a young girl frees Stas, the creator hero, who is trapped in ice. In another myth, an adolescent girl uses her power to create a stream teaming with fish and thus saves a village from starvation.

108 Adolescent girls are also called upon to mediate between wicked males and their victims. For example, a group of young virgins destroy the power of two young

medicine men who wantonly kill their fellow villagers. There is a clear and strong

association between female's adolescent sexuality, indicated by seclusion and

protective clothing, and proficiency with medicine power. Consistently, powers associated with female pubescence are cast in a positive light.

Other images of female sexuality, however, are equivocal, symbolizing the

potential range of actual human behaviour. That is, references to improper sexual action range from episodes of female infidelity to suggestions of seduction. These however, are balanced by accounts of faithful wives and modest virgins.

The fact that women are not presented in subordinate roles is critical to understanding Carrier ideals, for in actual life cultural practices were more ambiguous and designed to articulate very forcibly the power of women's fecundity.

It is important to understand how Carrier women view their cultural tradition in this regard, for the written ethnographic record offers an unrelenting and harsh view of female sexuality.

iii) Rites of Passage

When outside observers discuss Carrier women's sexuality and life crises two stereotypes emerge: one portrays adolescents and menstruating women as dreaded, repugnant sources of defilement; the other envisions women as servile beasts of burden victimized by hostile affines and rejected by an unfeeling community when widowed.

109 Traditionally, Carrier women were perceived to be inherently endowed with supernatural powers that were manifested by menstruation and procreation. From the onset of their first menses, adolescent girls were subjected to a period of seclusion ranging from several months to three years. An adolescent girl was referred to as sak-oesta, "one who stays apart" (Morice n.d.:235)2 or as a-asta, "she who stays in a hole" (ibid.:236). While sequestered, either singly or with other girls, the menstruant lived in a subterranean home connected to the village only by two strings with which they called for food or water. During this period, the girls wore a special bonnet that shaded their eyes and prevented them from gazing directly into the face of another.3

Female kin visited pubescent girls to teach them domestic crafts, herbal lore, spiritual knowledge, and a wide range of practical skiils. Prohibitions governing future menses and pregnancies were learned. At no time should menstruating women step over any item of male technology, nor should they look directly at equipment used for hunting or trapping or at fresh running water. Adolescent girls were also instructed in correct deportment and modesty. High born girls in particular were cautioned to behave in a manner appropriate to their social status.

At the end of their seclusion, the pubescent girl were ceremoniously reintegrated into the community. Noble families held large potlatches to commemorate the event.

2 Elsewhere (1893:80) Morice glosses sak-oesta as virgin.

3 It should be noted that while Morice provides the fullest description of the ritual attire, he admits to never having seen it (Morice 1893:165).

110 The girl shed her ritually prescribed bonnet and mantle and received a new

ceremonial headdress from her father's sister (Morice 1893:165).

All menstruants observed strict dietary and behavioural proscriptions. Fresh

meats and berries were avoided, direct contact with water and hunting and fishing

equipment prohibited, and personal movement restricted. Childbirth commonly took

place in an isolated location in the presence of other women.

Interpretation of these cultural practices has been based on androcentric notions

of a universal abhorrence of menstrual blood and its association with profanity and

defilement. Morice links Carrier views to biblical depictions of feminine defilement

and pollution (Morice n.d.:235). He argues that the term for menstrual blood, hwotsi.

was also used to designate "evil" (1910:971). Hence, he portrays the adolescent

girl as

that most dreaded creature.... She was considered by the Carrier so much an etre a part, that she must constantly wear some badge to remind the people of her terrible infirmity, and thereby guard them against the baleful influences she was supposed to possess (ibid.).

Elsewhere, he refers to an "excessive repugnance for, and dread of, menstruating women" (ibid.: 107) and suggests that women's avoidance of a hunter's path

indicated that "the hunter would also prefer to see her tear herself up on the bush and thorn than to let her pass in the narrow trail wherein he may have deposited his snares...." because the animals would be "offended" by her defilement and avoid his snares (ibid.; n.d.:236). Morice goes on to state, "a woman having her menses is legally impure, and must be deprived even of the sight of any object endowed with

111 magic properties" (ibid.: 195).

In keeping with his notions of Carrier women as lowly persons suffering

miserable lives, Morice perceives female seclusion to be a "very trying ordeal" accompanied by "bodily mortifications and penitential privations" (1892:112) and

interprets the proscriptions guiding women's movement as indications of deliberate ill treatment (1893:107). He presents women's work from the same perspective.

Heavy labour is "drudgery," an indication of women's lowly self-esteem and social inferiority (1893:118,124,148,164; 1910:983; 1889:122).

Morice's interpretation of puberty rites and menstrual proscriptions has not been overtly challenged by other observers, even though their data indicate disagreement.

Jenness, for example, remarks that the powers of pubescent girls were for "good and evil" (1943:525), but he holds to the concept of menstrual pollution (ibid.).4

Goldman speaks of girls and boys undergoing puberty rites calculated to develop practical motor skills, to gain a guardian spirit, and to enhance health and industriousness. Without elaborating, he states that menstruants were "dangerous to the food supply and practised the usual avoidance of contact with hunters, their equipment, the paths hunters followed, etc." (1963:335).

Accounts of death and mourning rituals reinforce images of female misery and

4 Driver records few instances of the girls' curing power outside of the North Pacific Coast and the Athapaskan Southwest where he found it to be the most distinct ideological feature of puberty rites (1941:34). While he did not consider the possibility that this feature might be more widespread, even if not recorded, he does infer that the notion of pollution was more common than generally known (ibid.:29).

112 lowly status. Prior to European influence the Carrier cremated their dead. At the cremation of their husbands, widows were forced by affinal relatives into the funeral pyre to anoint themselves and the body with its dripping fat. It is said that the husband's family were particularly cruel if they suspected the widow had been unfaithful or regarded her as lazy, ungenerous, or a poor mother. Evidently some were forced repeatedly into the flames until they became ill and thoroughly singed

(Morice 1889:145). Following the cremation, the widow packed the bones in a skin bag upon her back. Until released from her mourning several years later, she had her face smeared with charcoal and pitch, her hair shorn, and her clothes torn to rags. Her official mourning ended either when the deceased's heir completed his succession potlatches or when she was deemed to have provided sufficient goods and services to his family.

Although it is certain that men were not subjected to carrying the relics of their deceased wives, the extent to which Carrier men experienced similar mourning ordeals is unclear. Goldman contradicts himself with regard to the cremation rituals.

On the one hand, he declares that these were reserved for women, on the other, he records two incidents of men enduring similar rites (Legare 1986:123). Morice's accounts are also equivocal. He goes to great lengths to suggest that widows were accorded the lowest social esteem and subjected to harsh if not brutal treatment from their husbands' brothers and sisters. In only one of his various accounts of mourning does he speak of male experiences. In most respects this differed little from that of women. Spouses did not hold property in common; with widowhood

113 property reverted to the deceased's kin. Widowers gave up personal property, offered gifts to the deceased's kin, adopted mourning clothing, and provided services to affinal kin (Morice 1889:144-46). Despite the parallel situations, Morice does not suggest that the male experience constituted the "miserable lot" tolerated by women.

The earliest available accounts shed little light on the situation. Ogden describes a man's cremation and the mourning ordeals of his wife but makes no mention of observing a woman's cremation (Ogden 1853:130). McLean asserts that widows withstood extreme degradation from the entire community, including children:

every child in the village might command her and beat her unmercifully if they chose, no one interfered (1932:155).

Harmon, who elsewhere comments on men's open affection for their wives, suggests that widows, especially young ones, would rather commit suicide than remarry

(Harmon 1903:232; cf. McLean 1932:182).

Despite the statements of Morice and others, there is.little reason to conclude that either connotations of female sexuality or life crisis rituals symbolized social inferiority or sexual pollution. To clarify, it is necessary to turn again to mythological accounts. Jenness narrates episodes of medicine men employing bone tubes of the same type used by menstruants, adolescent girls destroying evil medicine men, and pubescent girls exercising medicine powers (1934:176,177,158,200). According to

Saik'uz Whut'enne stories, during their vision quests or when facing extraordinary challenges, culture heroes adopted the same food proscriptions as pubescent girls.

114 For example, Galbaniyeh, the swift runner of Saik'uz narratives, fed solely on dried roe and salmon.

Since these similarities existed in practice as well as in myth, it is insufficient and erroneous to dismiss ritual and prescribed separation solely on the assumption that the female is polluting or defiling. Many of the proscriptions required of pubescent

girls applied equally during the boy's vision quest. According to Saik'uz elders, during

a vision quest the youth would eat only dried foods, primarily dried fish and fish roe,

and at all costs would avoid fresh meat and grease.5

Morice tells us that pubescent boys and girls used bone drinking tubes and

avoided touching their hair, for, "immediate contact between the fingers and the head were then reputed productive of fatal diseases" (1892:82). Hunters also carried a

bone comb (Morice 1893:108). Men were held responsible, independently of women, for sexual abstinence prior to a hunt, and, as well, were required to fast, sweat, and thirst in order to maintain harmonious relations with other powers.6

5 McKennan tells us that adolescent boys of the Chandalar Kutchin observed puberty rituals similar to those of girls. "When the boy's nipples began to harden and his voice began to change ... he wore a short, conical cap whose fringe hung down over his eyes ... [and] mittens." He took precautions to avoid future ill luck and, in seclusion with other youths, under went rigourous training directed by an older man (1965:59). , .

6 Bock points out that among North American Indians, "in their special relationship to hunting, menstruants were not a separate class." Rather, anyone who was ill, was associated with illness, or who was acquiring or practicing medicine powers was thought to be potentially dangerous to hunting power (4967:215). Writing on the Tanana, Guedon states that potlatch hosts were "vulnerable to bad luck" and avoided behaviors that might "draw attention of the norihuman powers to the participants." To avoid repercussions, for two 30 day periods, the host should

115 Equally significant is the fact that pubescent girls performed services calculated to

increase personal well being and good fortune. For example, they tattooed

adolescent boys (no doubt a painful procedure, which, interestingly, is never

described as an ordeal or bodily mortification), performed healing rituals, and used their powers to neutralize malevolent behaviour (Jenness 1934:176; 1943:525; Morice

1893:166).

Countervailing negative stereotypes of women's bodies and supernatural powers

is the ceremonial association of women's hair with the status and power of the

dunezah. The dunezah's ceremonial wig, made entirely of the hair of the ts'ekezah

(Morice 1893:176), is described by Morice as

a beautiful head appendage, made up of the hair of three women interspersed with numerous Dentalium shells, etc., which the tenezas wore on grand occasions (Morice 1932:642):

Of all ceremonial attire, the wig was most important to the wearer's identity. As

Morice explains, "[the wigs] shared with him the traditional name which they were intended to honour." To part with it meant "forfeiting one's rank and title" (Morice

1893:175). It is interesting to note that wigs of woman's hair were customarily dunezah attire; ts'ekezah wore head-dresses of colourful feathers and shells.

Carrier women do not share the negative views of outside observers. On the contrary, the majority of elders regard pubescent seclusion as a respected tradition vital to individual competence and community well being. While reluctant to provide

practice the same ritual taboos as a girl reaching her puberty... (1981: 581).

116 details about seclusion practices, female elders insist that it was a period of intense

instruction and learning. Without it, young girls were unlikely to develop strong

characters and healthy bodies.

When a young girl gets her menstruation she has to stay in a bush no matter how many they are even the single one has to stay in the bush. There's a shelter made for them they stay in there and there's a white string going to them and another string painted red and these two strings they pull, the white string they want water and the red string they pull if they want food, they don't go in public when they're menstruation. They had to be dry to go in the public, that's how strict they were with their health and that's why they're healthy (Veronica George, Stoney Creek Indian Band 1984:19).

Seclusion was a time to develop spiritual awareness and a time for young girls

to learn to control their inherent powers and to live in balance with the animals.

Indiscriminate behaviour offended animals, and any careless or arrogant sexual

display was offensive to all. An elderly man explained,

Granny, she used to tell them girls how to behave. That's what they did in there all that time. They learned to be strong, how to get along, not to offend the animals or make sickness.

It appears that at this time girls acquired medicine power and learned herbal cures.

One woman reluctantly offered,

The old timers who went that way, they cured the people.... I can't tell you nothing more. You don't just spill all that knowledge anywhere. It's precious, and whites, them, they make fun of us....

Great care was taken to provide secluded girls with rigorous instruction in material arts, cultural ideals, and esoteric knowledge. It was believed that the quality of the girls' conduct during seclusion would influence their adult character. If the secluded

117 girls were virtuous, industrious, and attentive to the teachings of their older kinswomen they would remain so throughout their lives.

Although these views are not elaborated upon publicly, they are revealed in elders' criticisms of alleged inappropriate modern behaviour. One woman, particularly opposed to rock music, complained that without the old ways of teaching, young girls could not develop strong characters. "Them girls, they don't grow up right, not like the old timers who stayed apart."7 A similar perception was voiced by the male elder. He feared that adolescent girls would ignore their grandmothers' teachings and remain lazy all their lives.

Them, they're all crooked. Everyone's haywire they hang out with. It's no good now ... they should stay away from them wild boys ... [they should] be off by themselves....

The reluctance of informed elders to discuss menstrual seclusion makes analyses limited. It is worth noting, however, that Carrier practices are comparable in many respects to Yurok observances, and may well have had similar significance. From

Buckley, we learn that Yurok women view their menstruation as a time of purity. He tells us that dietary and behavioural proscriptions force them to be fully conscious of their bodies and consequently of their spiritual powers. Women secluded themselves to avoid disrupting their spiritual meditation with mundane tasks. The menstrual hut offered an isolated place for a woman to "go into [her]self and make [her]self stronger" (Buckley 1982:49).

7 Saik'uz elders use the euphemism to "stay apart" in reference to menstrual seclusion.

118 At the same time, Yurok men avoided the complementary, negative influences of menstruation that would affect their

psychic or spiritual life ... their ability to exercise power in, among other things, the accumulation of wealth. A menstruating woman who seduced an unwary man was therefore cisash ([worse than] a dog ... (ibid.:50).8

Contemporary Carrier references to menstrual pollution and sexual conduct reflect this better-known male view and appear to contradict the private interpretations of the elders and the symbolic sense expressed in traditional myth. Although contemporary perceptions of menstrual "pollution" may have come as a consequence of assimilating Euro-Canadian attitudes with traditional male views, it is also likely that ambiguous and contradictory explanations emerge from changing socio-political relations. Many younger women, particularly ones without children, express ignorance of traditional views of menstruation. They are familiar with some behaviour proscriptions and the more public view held by their male peers, namely, the notion that women could "hurt" men with their menstrual flow or careless behaviour. As we will see, it appears that a culture of teasing and sexual competitiveness has affected women's understanding of traditional cosmology.

iv) The Social Context

Stories the elders tell to the young and outsiders almost invariably contain some aspect of gender relations. During Indian Days at the local secondary school, an

8 In a complementary fashion, women applied the same term to men who forced their attentions on menstruating women.

119 elder woman related stories of Galbaniyeh to an eighth grade audience. In her version, she emphasized the relationship between the hero and his grandmother. She explained that it was this old woman who had prepared Galbaniyeh, Swift Runner, by teaching him to avoid greasy foods, fresh meat, excessive behaviours, and displays of pride. Old Woman instructed Galbaniyeh to be generous, to respect the animals, and to honour the elders. Atypically, the narrator was not content with these indirect allusions to the contemporary significance of elderly women in daily life.

Rather, she ended her narration with direct statements of the importance of grandmothers in training the young and in guiding the community.

She also emphasized the role of Lame Woman, once ugly but later made beautiful in the sweat lodge. She dwelt on Lame Woman's hard work, skilled hands, and modest behaviour. And, adding humour, she alluded to Lame Woman's determination to win the husband of her choice, apparently an "Indian way" for women to behave. After finishing her story, the narrator remarked to a few adults that when she married "it had gone the white man's way." The priest and church chief had arranged her marriage to a man she barely knew. Unlike Lame Woman, she had not pursued the man of her choice.

Women appear to favour tales that depict positive female role models. It is not unusual to find women stressing the significant role of Old Woman. For example, one woman stressed, "Stas, even he, that one, asked an old woman." Another time she pointed out, "Galbaniyeh, he wasn't nothing without a woman." It appears that these stories are related to demonstrate that it is "the white man's way, not the Indian

120 way that puts women down."

In recalling mythical foremothers, contemporary elders liken themselves to

grandmothers of myth and legend. They claim validity for their own knowledge

because they learned it from their genealogical grandmothers. Thus a woman may

be viewed as knowledgeable because she was raised by her grandmother, while the

actions and knowledge of others may be open to skepticism and dismissal if they

had been orphaned or left without a grandmother. In challenging the knowledge of

her contemporary, a highly respected elder said. "She spent too much time in the

residential school. Her mother died, and an orphan doesn't know much without her

grandmother." She went on to add, "You can't lead your people the white man way,

they don't raise up the girls right for that."

When narrating tales privately, particularly to an outsider or to children unfamiliar

with the tale, women tend towards explication of modern behaviour in reference to

mythical representation. For example, when an elder related the myth of Galbaniyeh

to me and some of her grand-daughters, she paused to praise a young daughter-

in-law, saying that like Lame Woman, she was a good worker and a good wife.

Among celebrated stories of women's powerful sexuality, tales of women

accosting and sitting on federal fisheries officers are highly popular. The stories vary

in detail, but all relate a similar incident. A fisheries officer arrives at the riverside to

check nets or to destroy traps. While the men remain on the shore, the women force the officer into the water and sit down upon him. The stories provide one illustration

of how women evoke traditional symbols to justify and explain their assertive social

121 and political action.

References to women sitting on fisheries officers are made either in highly charged political contexts or in direct reference to former political confrontations. This was brought to my attention most forcibly when the band administration staff found themselves confronting situations involving representatives of the provincial Fish and

Wildlife Branch of the Department of Recreation and Conservation. On the first occasion, an officer, not well liked by the community, arrived unannounced at the band administration office. Not introducing himself, he brusquely asked the receptionist in the lobby where the band manager could be found. He proceeded without invitation to her office. His visit was brief; his discussion more or less a monologue, sufficiently loud to carry down the corridor, was punctuated by an occasional quiet murmur from the band manager.

He left as he had arrived, without acknowledging the workers he brushed past, and thereby missing the knowing looks they shared. The band manager appeared from her office and said to no one in particular, "Women used to sit on them." She then turned to me and said, "You should ask Mom about it."

The officer had come to "call a meeting" of the chief and band to discuss regulations for net fishing. Specifically, he wished to further limit the use of gill nets in the streams and lakes and to supervise and record all catches. Deferring to his demands, the band manager had agreed to a meeting which she announced to the staff with the words, "We'll have to get the women together. Maybe we could get the elders' van."

122 At the meeting, which occurred some weeks later, the elderly women were

prominent. A few men gathered at the back of the assembly. The same fisheries

officer was introduced and asked to "take the meeting." He did so reluctantly

because the elected chief, a man in his early forties, was not present. After

beginning to address the meeting, the officer paused to ask where the men were and

to inquire if they were too lazy to come out. Angered by his attitude several women

rose to defend the men, explaining that "fishing is women's business; women speak

for fish." They made it clear that men had other responsibilities for which they took

charge. Later, the officer addressed several young men, again offending older women who rose to ask him why he listened to young men, who they said, "didn't

know beans."

At the conclusion of the meeting, after the officer had left, references were once again made to sitting on fisheries officers. Although women were sharing their stories amongst themselves, it was apparent that young men and women were expected to listen. A few days later, during an informal, private discussion with the elected chief, the story was raised again. Dissatisfied with the officer's expectations, the chief abruptly asked, "Did you know that women used to sit on those guys?" As the meeting ended, he indicated his reluctance to involve himself directly, preferring to leave the matter in the hands of the women.

Women narrate these stories proudly. These episodes reveal the prominence of assertive women in actions taken to protect fishing rights and to proclaim the independence of Carrier resource management. They also illuminate the pride

123 women have in the powers that stem from their physiology. Allusions to menstrual

flow and genitalia evoke a multidimensional sense of power: women's sexuality is not

necessarily dangerous or offensive, but it is at odds with the powers of men and of

animals. On the one hand, circumspect behaviour protects everyone from its

potency, on the other hand, deliberate public confrontation, such as the legendary

case of the fisheries officer, indicates a positive valence of power--a socially

condoned confrontation in the community's interest. In fact, the humiliation of the

fisheries officer has the same symbolic connotation as found in the myth The Boys'

Vengeance (Jenness 1934:175).9 Controlled use of female sexuality is an approved

method of diminishing hostile male powers.

Related before an audience of young women and men, the stories have another

message: women's, particularly elders', rights to political action are not to be

discounted by young men. The message for the non-Indian audience is that Carrier women are unlike white women; they are neither to be subordinated to male authority

nor to be ignored as political leaders in their own right. Rather, they are to be

viewed as autonomous actors, willing and able to stand up for their rights as Carrier

people.

The fact remains, however, that men are ambivalent in their attitudes toward female autonomy and sexuality. This is made evident by their allusions to the

9 In this narrative, a community is being ravaged by two young, evil medicine men. Old Woman advises the community to have twenty adolescent girls confront the two boys. This is done, and the evil power is destroyed (Jenness 1934:175- 177).

124 destructive potency of female sexuality. When in the bush with a male hunter, a middle-aged woman instructed me to walk behind him, at the edge of the path. She explained he would travel in a circular route (to avoid crossing our intended path), and return to the boat before us. His rifle would be placed in the back of the boat, as far as possible from where we would sit. When asked to explain her instructions, she said simply, "The animals wouldn't like it if we polluted his gun." Further questions were met with discomfort and a final retort, "He can't hunt if you don't behave." In fact, great care was taken to prevent our contact with the gun, and when hunting proved unsuccessful, we were teased. "I guess you guys stepped over it anyway.... Why are you so crooked, ruining my hunt?"

Teasing also takes place between young men and older women. At a political meeting an elder, acting as an advisor to the Tribal Council, playfully threatened to sit on the chair of a councillor. With considerable humour she suggested that he would be "in real trouble" if she "shamed" him in this fashion.

Not all encounters of this nature are marked by good humour. Gender antagonism is revealed when men accuse women of deliberately violating taboos.

A young woman of twenty recalled an incident from her childhood that had bewildered and intimidated her. An uncle (mother's sister's husband), known for a propensity toward violence, had accused his wife of touching his gun while menstruating and had threatened to punish her. The woman's mother intervened and suggested that the gun be cleansed by a young "virgin." The five year old child was commanded to shoot the rifle. At the time, this had little meaning for the girl who

125 now recalls only that it was "frightening" and that her mother and aunts were angry at the accusation and the threatened violence. In sum, there exist two views of female powers: a positive view articulated by elderly women, and a more negative, but often teasing, perception of pollution expressed by men and young women. These opposing views are expressed in different social circumstances and they influence interpretations of gender relations.

The Good Times and the Hard Times

When people of Saik'uz speak of their past they invariably compare their present or past hardships with better times. This is neither unusual nor surprising: historical reconstructions are grounded in the search for a past era of cultural autonomy and social achievement. What is of interest, however, is that women and men select different historical periods as "the good and the hard times." In the remainder of this chapter I contrast women and men's oral histories, relating them to gender-discrete understandings of women's changing social positions, economic roles, and community responsibilities.

Saik'uz elders do not share a consensual view of the quality of life enjoyed by their foremothers. Some women and men perceive the aboriginal way of life as a good time for women. They claim that prior to European contact women enjoyed high social status as the "grandmothers of the people." They also speak of domestic harmony and women's domestic authority.

That [fighting] started since that time. During my time, with drinking the fighting came. The old timers, my granny, he [sic], even her, she was respected. Granny had authority....

126 Male elders who speak of the respect for mothers and grandmothers impress upon us that this did not automatically protect women from violence and subordination. The legendary massacre of Chinlac,10 they remind us, ended with the murder and captivity of women.

[The. Blackwater chief] took a woman back with him for his wife. She was just like a slave to him then and she kept watching out, waiting....

Some women also stress the fate of young girls and women who were exchanged as peace offerings. "Poor things," said one woman, "there wasn't any women's lib for them." She spoke of the hard times suffered by widows and of women's physical labours.

Away back then, before my grandparents' time [women] were just like slaves ... [it] was a man's world. Women were just like pack animals and never had a say.

A few elder women argue that men and women shared clan leadership. These women say a clan mother and a clan father "stood beside one another,"

Just because the men had 'big shot names' they didn't boss over the women ... every clan had a mother and a father.

An elder from Nadleh, whose father was a chief and whose mother was raised in

Saik'uz, says,

The respected people, those big shots with names, they were the council in them days. The chief, he had to listen to them,

10 There are several accounts of an attack on Chinlac that resulted in the massacre of the entire village, apart from one woman who was taken captive. According to Morice's version, the Chilcotin attacked Chinlac in 1745 (1978:15-19). Saik'uz accounts attribute the attack to the Blackwater Carrier.

127 not do what he pleased. He looked after the people....

When asked if women "were pushed around," as one Saik'uz male elder had suggested, she went on to say,

'Uloo [mother], she was married to a chief. She had a name and everyone respected her. She was the boss. It was a matriarchy ... it wasn't any different for a chief. Women had names too, and they made the decisions. Chiefs were more for show after the priests came. 'Uloo, she came from Stoney Creek and she knew the old timers' way. Chiefs listened to the women just like everybody else.

Accounts of the aboriginal subsistence cycle also reveal gender-specific views of women's social position. While women stress that their foremothers were centrally involved in food production and trapping, men tend to locate women's activities in the domestic routine and to minimize women's contributions when describing hunting and trapping. Men stress the hard labour of hunting caribou or the risks involved in hunting bears.

Reminiscences of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries reveal similar differences in female and male world views. Elderly men acclaim the collective and individual success of their grandfathers and fathers to a far greater degree than they praise their grandmothers and mothers. While men tend towards glorification of the past--as when they say, "they had everything them days, ... the men made a real good living trapping and hunting for everybody,"--they make scant reference to the work of women. Men describe hunting and trapping as if this were solely their work.

"Women sometimes helped. But it was their work to make skins and dry meat." As one stated,

128 Everybody made a good living them days. The men trapped all over. Plenty of furs during that time for everybody. Chief Paul, this was his territory and he ran it for all the men....

On the other hand, women speak proudly of foremothers who trapped and hunted alongside the men. In their eyes women laboured independently and shared equally the burden of production. According to one elderly woman,

All the women, they trap too. Just like the men. They pack their babies with them and work their lines next to their husbands'. Sure women worked hard back then. Poor things, they worked just like men in the bush....

My mother-in-law came here from Cheslatta when she got married. Right from then to an old woman she trapped.

In men's eyes, their forefathers prospered as a result of their hard work and rugged personalities. Men praise their forefathers for their farming successes and for their entrepreneurship. Two men offered the following views:

Even before the surveyors come, we had our farms going. After that time, we had our farms all over, Tatuk, Laketown, Noonla, all over ... we started working the land. A little at a time we kept improving the land, making it a little bigger.... The barley grew tall and we had a good crop out of it.

We were all good farmers back in that time, everybody was making it on their farms. The women too, they helped on the farms.

Daddy and Granddad left after seeding. Sometimes we all went. Me, I remember even before I walk going too. They went to Quesnel to sell their furs and get supplies. Granny and 'uloo [mother] they all went. When we get back we cut the grain and make hay for the livestock ... sometimes Granny and 'uloo, they stay behind.

My dad, he had a sawmill right where the town is now. In the

129 summer too he was busy making timber to sell. He sold to the farmers all over here. That's before the town, before when they get ready and build the railroad.

Men tend to describe women's farm work, as "helping out." They also pass over women's work in the tie camps. In contradistinction, women perceive domestic work as integral to both farming and tie production. "They all made those ties, the women raising them kids right there in that camp." "Mom and dad, back then, they started the first farm."

While not contradicting their statements as to the domestic authority of women and the respect for mothers and grandmothers, older men counter claims of full equality with reference to the prominence of male chiefs of the late nineteenth century. Tradition speaks of one Nulki family maintaining an unbroken line of patrilineal succession as the dyeeyaz.11 "little" or "second" chief. The rule of succession for the dyeecho. "big chief," from Tachick was originally within the matriline. The mother of the earliest Tachick chiefs now recalled by name, Kelcho

(Paul) and his brother Adam, was Tachickwoten, their father Nescosliwoten. After

Kelcho, succession was patrilineal, according to one of his male descendants,

It went through the men. We go back to chief Kelcho. He had four wives but just two were from here. Him and his brother, Adam they called him, were chiefs. After him [Kelcho, baptised Paul] his son, Antoine. You can see it all in the graveyard. Down through the sons, to today. Now we don't do it that way anymore. Them young guys get in there with election and it doesn't matter who their father was Just the church chiefs, their fathers, they were the big shots.

11 Dyee, often spelt "tyee," is Chinook jargon for "chief."

130 Men speak of this era as a good time, making few if any references to hardship and social disruptions unless pressed to do so. The smallpox epidemic of 1862 is important in men's narratives because it marked the beginnings of Saik'uz, and the

1918 influenza epidemic is stressed because it is associated with subsequent loss of trapping areas. Other epidemics, however, are mentioned only in relation to personal histories.

Women, however, stress the social burdens experienced by their foremothers and suggest that the ramifications of depopulation were felt differently by women and men. For example, in order to provide care for orphans, some young women were forced to postpone motherhood, while some older women assumed full responsibility for grandchildren.

Men say little of the inequities of a system of contract labour that favoured them.

Gender tensions that developed with railroad tie production and entrepreneurship are revealed only by the women. They remind us of their unpaid labour and dependency on men for cash.

... they started the tie business. Hundreds, maybe thousands of ties them womans [sic] peeled, but they didn't get money for that. Just the men did. It was the same thing for us. It was a man's world. Hundreds of ties I peeled.... And what did I get paid? Nothing. Just the men. Those men got it all.

In the twenties the men worked out everywhere. Sometimes [the women] were left alone for a long time. The women did it all then and fed everybody. If they [the men] came back without money or supplies, the women fed them too.

Women's and men's accounts of this period also differ with respect to conversion

131 to Christianity. Women discuss at length the contradictory impact of the Catholic missionaries. Although they are quick to praise the church for ending traditional treatment of widows and for teaching women new domestic skills, women are equally prompt to criticise the priests' attitudes towards aboriginal marriage practices. An elderly descendent of Chief Kelcho offered this account:

They made it just one boss, dyeecho. That was Kelcho. Dyeeyaz. he was for Laketown. The priest spoke against Kelcho's wives. Then he sent away the old one and all her children. Long ago they married real close, cousins that's who. But that was too close, it makes the blood weak, just like water. So they changed that too. Just a few, they got married, but the people spoke against it. Brothers and sisters they marry [i.e. brothers of one family marry sisters of another]. Chief John and his brother they do that. But that they give up too. And when a man he dies it used to be his brother got his wife. That too, everything the priest puts a stop to.

Monogamous sexual relations were idealized. Harsh punishments, whipping at the altar, for example, were meted out to alleged transgressors.

The priest's appointed watchmen and policemen were charged with maintaining close surveillance over the entire community.

An elderly woman stated,

The church chief and the sundayman ... were in charge.... and , they were fooling around. The [church] chief, he took them to the church ... hands tied up like this [behind the back].

A curfew that applied equally to children and to single adults, persisted until the

1930s. Two women, childhood playmates, recall,

The bell rang at nine. We were out playing at the edge of the bush. We sure run when we heard that bell. Everybody had

132 to be inside. The watchman, he went around the whole village. We run real fast up behind the village. That time he didn't catch us.

Everybody was supposed to be inside. If kids were caught, the watchmen, they were like police men, they licked us. I didn't get caught much, but once I got licked.

Perceptions of church control over the personal lives of the people vary and are not specific to gender. The rigidity of the church hierarchy is viewed with mixed feelings. Whippings at the altar and in the church schools are remembered with bitterness. But much of the control of the church chief and his captain is spoken of with nostalgia. This is particularly so when the elders consider current difficulties associated with rearing children, and the overall stress of living in a tightly bounded community. The same two women lamenting the past, shared their views:

It was all different back then. Even when I was a kid [1920s], the chief was in charge. Everybody obeyed the chief and the sundayman. No drinking, no running around. You got punished. Taken to the chief and captain.

Nine o'clock church bell. We'd be out playing and hear that bell. Run home fast as anything.... Everything different. The chief, he could do something to set things right, but now nothing. Who's got authority? The chief and council change every two years. They can't do nothing. Elections are no good. Nobody people can get in there and they can't do nothing about the drinking....

The general sentiment of nostalgia for a past social harmony is the clearest point of agreement between women and men as to what constituted a "good time for the people."

The Catholic priests opposed matrilineal descent; Morice (1902), for example,

133 argued that it was contrary to Catholic principles and a barrier to moral advancement.

Emphasis on patrilineal descent brought with it a new set of gender perceptions that restricted women's public roles for the following half century. In the words of one older woman,

The church business was all run by men. We used to be a matriarchy and the church was going to put a stop to all of that. The men thought they were big shots who could stand on their own.

It is a common perception among women of Saik'uz that conversion to

Catholicism introduced the most radical changes distinguishing their traditional life from their current one. This is particularly apparent in their descriptions of their youth and early adulthood. While men are apt to point to trapline registration in

1926 and economic hardships after 1929 as the crises that ended "the good times" and disrupted an established life style, women are less likely to speak of an abrupt transition from good to hard times. Rather, with respect to their experiences in the

Lejac Residential School and their arranged marriages, women commonly speak of the constraints imposed by church-based authority.

Today's female elders were among the first students at the Lejac School when it opened in 1922.12 They present contradictory recollections of their school years.

All remember the loneliness, resentment, boredom, and humiliation they endured due

12 My earlier research (1981) provides a fuller account of Carrier women's perceptions of the Lejac School. What follows here is a brief synopsis of women's recollections based in part on the earlier research as well as on informants' statements recorded in 1983 and 1984.

134 to the restricted and tightly organised school routine. Despite hardships and limited scholastic education, however, women claim to be grateful for learning practical domestic skills and learning to read. Some credit schooling for their later success as mothers, chiefs, councillors, and workers.

Marriages were arranged by the priest and his chief for young girls as soon as they left residential school or when they sought work outside the reserve. Three women describe their arranged marriages.

Even way back then, them priests and chiefs, they fixed the marriages. They did that to my mother, I think, and they did that to me. The chief comes up and says, "Who you're gonna marry?" That was all decided by them those days.

Father Coccola kept me in Lejac for a long, long time. I was an orphan, and he wouldn't let me out until I was ready to get married. One day he told me I was going to marry that old man. His wife was dead and he had a bunch of kids. So, I married him. Gee, it sure was hard....

The chief and priest found out I worked for a white lady. At that time the priests were very hard on the young people. The chief found out and made me get married right away. They tell me I go wild if I go some place else. That's why they force marriage.

It was all in the hands of the priest. He watched us growing up and then him and the church chief they forced us to get married. Just like that, maybe 15, maybe 16. Just that quick they made it happen. Lots of girls cry all the way to the altar. Me, I didn't cry. I was too proud. I didn't let anybody see my tears.

One woman recalls fighting against her arranged marriage and her bitterness when she failed. She points to the priest as the cause of too much "fooling around" because the young girls were married too young and to men for whom they didn't

135 care. It was for the men that these marriages were made, she explains, not for the young girls.

It was only for the men. The priests kept the women out of everything and treated them like babies. That's the neydoh [white man's] way of doing things.

Men have less to say about their marriages. Only one broached the subject during an interview, and his reminiscences were unhappy ones. He remembers his marriage ceremony.

The priest stood us up together. Put her hand there, in mine, and told her to obey me always. Told me I was the boss and we would stay together. [He repeats the gesture several times.] Nobody else, just her for the rest of my life, just her.... Not like them old timers eh? They had two wives. Kelcho, he had four. But me, just one, the one the priest and chief give me. Them young guys, they get to choose. Nowadays they have a say.

With the separation of female and male labour in the 1920s and 1930s came separate realms of decision making. In periods of male absence women assumed community leadership; in male presence they were officially silenced by priests and state representatives. An elderly woman offered the following criticisms.

The priests and chiefs were in charge then. They go right past the women. What do they think women do by themselves? All the time the men were away working, the women did everything. They ran this place then....

Consequently, tensions grew between women and men, as indicated by another woman's comment:

It was the white man's way to go over the heads of us women. Our mothers, they were quiet about it I guess, but it caused trouble. The women had to speak up at home where they had great influence. They had to get their husbands to act. It was

136 the women who were behind the men....

Women who now enter the political forum as councillors and chiefs suggest that the generation of women before would not have approved. Apparently these women accepted the church's position that public roles are the province of men. Some elders now say that in their mothers' generation, women who were married to the chiefs were most severely restricted. According to a daughter-in-law of a former chief,

They [chief's wives] were trained to be quiet and to let their husbands do the talking. They would never approve of women doing men's business. Never.

My mother-in-law, she was married to a chief. She was always quiet. She never spoke up. It wasn't right then. She wouldn't like me doing this now....

Men who oppose female leadership resort to the words of the priests. One man offered this view:

Men, dunezah. that's who should be chief. That is the way we follow God, the way it is with the church. Government is supposed to be in God's way or it won't work.

Women's focus on growing gender differences with respect to work and social responsibility continues to characterize their life stories of the depression years.

Once again, men's stories say little about women's lives and work. They present the depression years as a hard time for men that ended with the prosperity of the war years, as illustrated by the accounts of two elders.

We sure had a hard time. The white guys, they got the big contracts. We went all over for jobs and we hacked for them white guys. It was tough until the war time.

Since that time, when they registered them traplines, then we

137 suffered. It was hard to get jobs, and we were losing all our lines. The tie business, when it went, we were in trouble. Right until the war, then I signed up....

Interestingly, women are less prone than men to characterize the war years as a good time. Although men tend to celebrate the return of better economic times, their sisters and wives recall their own extraordinary hard work, family tensions, and personal struggles. Just as before:

when the men went away us women had to stay and look after everything ourselves. Nearly everybody had horses. Nearly everybody had cattle. We had to help one another, us women. The cattle needed to be inside when it froze. The horses too. We had to feed them two times a day. Water them two times too.

All the time he was gone, I did all the things I did when he was here. Put up the hay myself, garden, keep the cattle. Once you got to depend on yourself you got to depend on yourself. You can't wait for that one to come around.

They blame war time prosperity for increased alcohol use and marital problems.

That guy [speaker's husband] was a good provider. But when he was working up at that mine he spent all his cheque on drinking. After that, he wanted to drink like them white guys.

Before that time liquor was no problem. We were too close to the [church] chief. Everybody stayed sober.... That drinking ruined us when the war came and our men went away. They could get booze anywhere then.

He made himself a white man. It wasn't no land he was after, it was the booze. I stuck it out .... The priest said, "You gotta stay, he's your husband and you can't run off." But he was drinking all the time. , him too, that's when he started, and look at [his wife], she was beaten up when he went haywire with that booze.

Once again, women stress the impact of illness, but men rarely do so. A young

138 woman stated,

Mom took in when he had T.B. Then we all got it. Five of us were sent away to hospital. My brother, he spent five years without his feet ever touching the floor, just lying there sick. My sister lost a lung, and me too. We were all real sick. If Mom hadn't nursed [the sick man] no one would have taken care of him. She didn't know it would get her kids too.

Even after the war, while the men were still working, epidemics plagued families:

Those were hard years for us women. Our babies died of that typhoid. The creek water was no good anymore. Full of dead fishes, and polluted....

When the post-war boom ended, gender separation and conflicts became more

dramatic and more firmly rooted to economic structures. Women no longer enjoyed

the same freedom to work at bush subsistence activities. The introduction of day

school and family allowance payments (which were linked to regular school

attendance) tied them to the reserve. A woman recalls,

I stayed back with the kids and he [speaker's husband] went to the [fish] camp with his mother, maybe others. Before that we all went. We had the school here now, and the kids were all home with us. I fish here, at home then.

Since that time [1944-1956], everything is different. We had them baby cheques and the kids at home. We don't go into the bush the same as before then. That little bit of money sure helped. No more tie camps after that, and not so much work for the men. We women, I guess you would say, were stuck doing it all. Our husbands they went to work for the highways if they could, and we went to get jobs too. That's with all the kids at home. There were hard times again. No more work for the men.

The loss of jobs for men brought new feelings of demoralization. Women and men point to a further increase in alcohol use. A man said,

139 ... men just gave up. That's when they drank, and me, sure me too, I drank. We didn't have any work you see, and it was hard not to work. Then they brought in that welfare and that made it too easy to drink. Drinking is killing my people. All of us started drinking then and too many are still going at it....

That liquor destroyed us. It's still with us. Even me, I still drink, haven't stopped yet. It'll kill me maybe. That guy [speaker's wife] she stopped. She's a good woman now. Me, I still drink this poison.

As difficult at this period was for women, they found new hope and purpose in employment opportunities in the expanding towns and tourist industry. Women who remained working at the hospital or local fish resorts are ambivalent about the opportunities of the late fifties and sixties.

Since that time there hasn't been work for anybody. We lost the hospital jobs by 1970 when M retired. Not since then, when everything was mechanized and the tie camps gone ... Since that time we are nobody.

But for most, the good times had passed by ten years earlier. Two older women see the construction of the Kemano Dam in 1952 as the symbol of a lost lifeway.

One points to ecological changes that have created greater hardships and to the flooding of her grandmother's grave at Cheslatta; the other to the destruction of the mythological home of the Carrier dwarfs.

Why do they suffer us? When they made that dam nobody was ready. Just a little bit in front of the water, they were running from it. Everything they lost.... The bones came up. My grandmother, all of them, their bones floated away. I tell them, why do they suffer my people?

Now the creek is gone. Look at it. No fish can live in it any more. Since that time, nothing lives in that creek. Everything

140 is hard on my people since that time.

The dam, that's where the little people, the dwarfs, they lived. They sure must have been happy. Laughing all the time. Sure, they laughed at everything.

Both end their stories with the same sentiment, "since that time we are nobody."

Gender In The Political Context

Gender-discrete interpretations of the past come to the fore in public debates on political issues. Women lay public claim to a past matriarchy or female equality when they contest tribal and council elections and when they debate the reinstatement of non-status persons and their future role in self-government.

It is not unusual for men to discount these claims. While men seem never to disparage maternal authority, they often reject the notion of female authority in the public realm and even the idea of prevailing gender equality. When women discredit male leadership as "the white man's way," their male opposition upholds it on the same grounds. Male leaders legitimate their position within the context of Christian law, the "word of Jesus." In this context forefathers are praised for their conversion to Catholicism-for accepting God's will that "men be the bosses"--and for acquiescing in state definitions of Indianness as given in the Indian Act (1951: Section 12 [1] [b]).

In the words of one band chief, whose mother was from Saik'uz, "Jesus never said,

'In 1984 women were going to be equal.'"

At a Carrier Sekani Tribal Assembly, the same chief discredited his sister's assertion of a past matriarchy, "Maybe that's the way it was with the old timers.

That's not God's way." In rebuttal, the sister addressed the assembly as follows:

141 We were a matriarchy. In every household the mother had the authority. My mother married a chief, but she was the boss. He never went against her. Just like her mother, the old timers, it was the women who were in charge.

This confrontation led the assembly into a general debate on the question of band membership and the issue of reinstating women who had involuntarily lost their

Indian status. A number of women and men suggested that the bands should take a common stand on the question of women's status. They argued that a matrilineal people should not "lose its women because of white man's law" and suggested that bands which had not yet done so, declare themselves exempt from the Indian Act as provided for by the Governor General's Proclamation in 1982.

A heated exchange followed. Two of the women speakers, both of whom wished to marry white men without loss of band membership, showed their distress. This in turn prompted two men, one married to a white woman struggling to be incorporated into Carrier society, to oppose band exemption. He remarked to bystanders surrounding him, "It sure tickles me to see them cry. They're white women already."

The past status of women leaders is important to those who seek self-government with legislative powers. On the one hand, there are women who are adamant that any forthcoming system of self-government acknowledge either a past matriarchy, or at least female equality. On the other hand, there are men who argue for a future government of hereditary chiefs assisted by an elected council. In the latter case, men argue for a patrilineal succession of duly recognized dunezah

142 whose forefathers include dyeeyaz or dyeecho.

While both sides agree that future governing bodies should be structured upon

the ideals of the balhats and clan system, they differ on the issue of gender. It is

not surprising, therefore, that female leaders seize opportunities to press their case.

At the 1984 All Clan Gathering of the Carrier Sekani Tribal Council, women from

Saik'uz stressed the past roles of female clan leaders.

Each clan had a clan mother and a clan father. They stood beside each other. Without a mother and a father, the clan was like a broken family....

A matriarchal past was also described.

The women had the authority. We were a matriarchy. Our grandmothers were bosses, and everyone listened to them.

The nature of the clan gathering was transformed from an open discussion of

past balhats practices to their actual enactment when a woman, a close friend and

distant relative of the leading women of Saik'uz, was insulted. Since she was ts'ekezah, with an honourary name to mark her high status, careful ceremony was

required to return her to the hall, which she had left, and to wipe out the insult to her

name. Her strongest support came from women from Saik'uz. Women of the

appropriate clan spoke on her behalf and raised the prerequisite money and goods for her to return without embarrassment. While men also involved themselves and

contributed to the "payout," they contented themselves with following the leadership

of the women.

Women are conscious that actions such as these make a statement about

143 prevailing gender relations. An elder women had the following explanation of the incident and her role within it.

B was insulted and the opposite clan brings her back. We women did that for her. She'll return it with interest to us. It's important for us women to do this so the younger generation will learn....

A second woman added,

Yes, that's right. It's up to us women. All those young people, they're here to learn the clan system. They watch us. It's the women who have to teach them kids. Our men don't do nothing, they aren't even here....

We need strong women in the clans. We have our clan leaders, they're like clan mothers. If the women don't do it , nobody's going to do it. H , she should get seated so she can follow her mother. She could be clan leader some day, maybe.

And one woman, a clan leader, explained the connection between this incident and a general concern for future self- government.

We had self-government before that time. The potlatch, that was our self-government. That's what this clan gathering is all about, to find out how to go about it.

But we're not like you white folks you know. We show our younger generation. That's what they'll learn from watching us.... They'll learn self-government and they'll be ready for it. We need good leaders, and now they see how we do it for our people.

When pushed for further explanation, she added,

Without our clan leaders we are going to be nobody people, just nothing. Women pass on what we know to the younger generation. We show respect, that's why we brought B back inside. When she pays us back with interest she'll be respected. That's why she does it. If you don't, people won't

144 listen to you.... They won't respect the name. You can't lead your people like that, in shame. You gotta wipe out the insult and make the name good. Then you can lead again.

Despite their insistence that this incident provided a learning experience for the young, women consciously played out their act before an important male audience.

A short time earlier, a male chief had addressed the crowd on the issue of self-government and the need for self-determination of citizenship within a Carrier

nation. He criticized federal governments proposals for reinstating nonstatus women and their children. Several of the women involved in the insult payment had been affected by the nonstatus issue (the insulted women had a consensual marriage with a white man in order to retain her status). They expressed concern that resistance to reforming legislation would perpetuate the sexual discrimination of the Indian Act.

Arguing that all women "should be brought back in" because "we are from our mother's side," several of the women rose to again emphasize the role women play in transmitting their culture to the young people.

It seems to be no coincidence, therefore, that within an hour of this debate these same women demonstrated their high status and their cultural knowledge before a group of male leaders who saw this gathering as their own opportunity "to learn about our own self-government from the elders."

Summary And Conclusions

In changing material conditions, traditional images, stereotypes, and symbols are granted new meanings. Women and men have gender-specific views of women's sexual and reproductive functions. Whereas men are ambivalent about women's

145 sexuality and uneasy about menstrual pollution, female elders are unequivocal in their perceptions of women's inherent powers and strengths.

Gender-specific perceptions are illustrated by relative emphasis men and women grant male and female productive roles and the church-based system of male dominance. Men's historical narratives tend to diminish women's economic production. Women's accounts, however, stress the collective basis of production locating all of women's labour, including domestic tasks, at the centre of economic activities.

Although women do not share a consensual view of the quality of life in aboriginal times, they do have common interpretations of the impact of Christian conversion. Women recognize that Catholic ideology and practice created formal structures of female subordination and significantly reshaped male perceptions of femaleness to include notions of a God-granted mandate for male superordination.

When women and men publicly confront and challenge each other they draw upon gender-divergent views of Carrier and Christian ideologies. Women legitimate their political struggle by reference to aboriginal perceptions of femaleness, while some men justify their opposition to women by reference to male interpretations of Christian doctrine and Euro-Canadian practice.

In the next chapter, I consider the influence of women's cultural views on socialization practices and the definition of women's community responsibilities.

146 0 CHAPTER FIVE

WOMEN'S LIVES: DAUGHTERS, MOTHERS. LEADERS

Introduction

In Chapter Four, I discussed the meanings of sexual differentiation within Carrier cultural tradition. I stressed the importance of understanding gender-specific definitions and interpretations of sexual symbols and changing gender relations. I concluded that female stereotypes and mythological symbols are viewed positively by women and are seen as an historical mandate for contemporary female leadership. I now ask, What is the connection between the strong value placed on nurturing and women's motivation for public leadership? How are domestic and community responsibilities linked in the women's world view?

In substance and organization, this chapter adheres as closely as possible to the structure the Saik'uz Whut'enne give to their thoughts and world view. Two popular vernacular phrases signify the essence of women's self-esteem and cultural significance. The first, "a little girl is not for nothing," is a statement on female fecundity and cultural identity in a matrilineal society. The second, "unless there is a woman," is a comment on women's necessary contributions to all successful family and community based endeavors. These two phrases, frequently found in informants' interviews and used conversationally by women to explain their views of women's social significance, provide an organizational schema for a reconstruction of the Saik'uz world view. When women of Saik'uz speak of themselves, they evoke

147 three themes: female fecundity, nurture, and social responsibility. They may speak of these as individual aspects of women's lives, but their colloquial phrases impart

no arbitrary boundaries between them. Rather, using a range of figurative phrases

and metaphors, the women indicate the indivisibility of reproductive roles and other

broad social responsibilities. Also organized within vernacular categories is a discussion of the personal attributes of female leaders. I focus on Carrier distinctions between socially active women, labelled "strong" women and "good" women, and all other women. I discuss how these terms differentiate women according to their personal achievements. I begin with a description of socialization practices, and then turn to descriptions of women whose lives reflect cultural ideals of nurture.

A Little Girl is not for Nothing

i) Birth and Childhood

Because matrilineal identity is so important to them, women stress their fecundity. Their world view integrates Christian principles with precontact tradition.

The act of giving birth links women to the distant past, and through Christ, into the infinite future. "You come from your mother and you go to God," an elder women exclaims to men. "You men only come in between." In this manner, women remind men that their lives and ancestral identity come from women.

"A little girl is not for nothing" signifies the importance given to the birth of a girl. By alluding to a female child's future role as a mother and a member of her mother's clan, this statement makes the natural value of women culturally explicit.

148 The birth of a girl is met with particular joy. She ensures the continuation of the family and clan into yet another generation.

As women murmur to a tiny infant girl, they tell her that she will always walk in the moccasins of her grandmother. Some day she will take a grandmother's name. If her grandmother is renowned for particular gifts and leadership, they tell the baby that she, too, will be "strong" and "gifted." Whether or not the child is baptized with the name of a female relative, she will be addressed affectionately by names or nicknames of her accomplished matrilineal ancestors.

Women also greet the infant as a potential member of her matriclan. She will be "around for a long time to help," they say. "She will become a mother in her clan, that little girl; she will keep our clan going."

Frequently, an infant girl will be baptized with her maternal grandmother's name, which indicates "where she came from."

Sarah took her grandmother's name. Just before my mother died I told her that I was going to have a girl. So I asked her for her name. Sarah is like my mom. She shares her things and she goes all the time to the river when we net [fish]. She will net fish and look after her people and be strong, like my mom.

It's very important to hold on to the names of the old timers. We come from our mother's family. To know who we are we take our grandmothers' names as far back as we can go. My grandmother's name hasn't been taken. I could have had it, but I didn't want to be high toned and act like a big shot. My daughter wanted to take it, but she can't pay for it. Now it should go to that one [indicating her youngest daughter's first child, still an infant]. That one, too, will follow her grandfather,

149 and she can be a double header, one from both sides of the table [i.e. with membership in both clans]. She's real smart that one, and if she's good, she can take the name.1

Men share in the pleasure a girl's birth brings to family and clan. By referring to foremothers, men, like women, express their identity. When asked for their genealogy, or when they wish to validate their claims to traditional knowledge, status, or community privilege, elders stress the social status of their matrilineal foremothers.

Men refer with pride and give primacy to their foremothers' extraordinary reputations and celebrated accomplishments. They acknowledge the significance of matrilineal descent. In this regard, the need for little girls is acknowledged and the significance of female fecundity and nurture honoured, as a male elder explains,

Everybody belongs in their [sic] mother's side. If there are lots of girls, that's good. When we don't have girls, we are gonna die out, and then that's the end of the clan. You have to know who your mother is. That's why we want little girls.... Sure, we want boys too, a son to become a hunter, but little girls, that's who will carry on our name.

Socialization towards motherhood begins early. By the age of three or four, girls are encouraged to "take care of baby." By the age of eight or nine, they are expected as a matter of routine to shoulder this responsibility. Girls of this age spend long periods of time with infants. They take great pleasure in indulging the little ones, fondling them and amusing them with innovative games and songs.

Girls who are willing to tend children and who are capable of providing

1 The clan/potlatch system will be described in chapter 7. The term "double header" refers to a person, usually of high status, who retains membership in both her/his mother's and father's clans.

150 competent care are viewed favourably. Adults of both sexes are quick to praise them. "That Corey, she sure minds them well. She's going to be a real good mother." Not only are girls well paid for babysitting, they also receive special favours and privileges rewarding their efforts. The girls are justifiably proud. They can, however, become very scornful of peers who do not share either their personal qualities or ambitions.

Tracey, she's real dumb. She can't even take care of [the baby]. She doesn't know nothing. I had to show her everything. Rebecca isn't crooked with me ... when Tracey looked after the baby, she had to take her to Grandma. She didn't even know what to do....

In a similar fashion, girls are encouraged to care for the elderly and ill.

Adolescent girls are encouraged to offer housekeeping and personal services to eiders who live alone. Those who agree to do so earn prestige in the adult community and are praised publicly for their altruistic behaviour.

Women are also particularly important in the transmission of cultural knowledge. To say "a little girl is not for nothing" is also to imply her future as an elder to generations yet unborn. It is to anticipate future elders continuing to trace cultural knowledge to their ancestors. In adolescence, girls (and boys) take on some of these responsibilities. They perform traditional dances with younger children, they join their elders in singing and drumming Indian songs, and they are encouraged to learn Indian arts and crafts. From grandmothers, grand-daughters learn to tan moose hides and to make skin clothing and moccasins.

151 Nora,2 for example, spent hours with her grandmother, Isabelle, trying to clean

and tan a moose skin. Although she had made no specific plans for marriage, she

had dreams of a beaded Indian wedding dress. Beth, on the other hand, wanted her

mother-in-law to teach her to make birch bark baskets. At the same time, other girls,

and a very few boys, were learning beading and sewing. These teenagers then taught younger children the same skills.

During early childhood and preadolescence, girls spend a great deal of time with extended family members. Many grow up in three generation households, others may live for varying periods with their mothers' or fathers' female kin.

Grandmothers and aunts (either MZ or FZ) are called upon to discipline young girls or to intervene when they face difficult situations with their parents or siblings. By the time the girls enter school, they have developed a sense of belonging to the extended family. Through childhood and into adolescence, their closest friendships are with their sisters and first cousins (MZD).

At the same time that girls are encouraged towards nurturing roles, they, no less than boys, are soon expected to be self-reliant and independent. Mothers and older siblings are reluctant to intervene in children's quarrels or to take action against bullying from older children. Girls learn early the value of developing a "tough" demeanour; to a large measure their status among peers depends upon their ability

2 Pseudonyms are used here, and throughout the remaining text, for the reader's easier understanding of the personal relationships of the women described. The names appear on kinship charts in Chapter 6. See page 137ff.

152 to protect themselves against other children. Adults and peers alike expect girls to fend for themselves ("fighting back" when necessary) and not to allow others to take advantage of them. Self-assertiveness, however, is not to be confused with such antisocial behaviour as bullying.

The strong emphasis on nurture does not encourage girls to esteem stereotypes of femininity offered by the dominant society. Atypical passive behaviour or feminine clothing (for example, skirts and dresses) are contemptuously dismissed as "dainty." Not until late adolescence, and then only rarely, do girls wear fancy clothing. Their female identity is expressed in a variety of other ways: fashionable hairstyles, makeup, and a wardrobe of stylish blue jeans, shirts and sweaters.

The annual "Indian Princess" pageant is one of the rare occasions that emphasizes the dominant society's feminine symbols. Adolescent girls are selected for this honour by criteria common to North American beauty pageants: attractiveness, poise, feminine dress (the girls show themselves in "evening" and

"traditional" dresses), and speech-making. In 1984, the contestants had been asked to address issues on self-government; they responded with prepared statements focusing on their educational and professional aspirations, all of which would provide social services to their reserves: teaching, nursing, social work, etc. While these services conform to dominant society's gender division of labour, the girl's views of themselves or their chosen professions are not consonant with the perception of subordination or feminine passivity. Rather, they envision undertaking assertive leadership in the struggles for self-determination.

153, ii) Motherhood

Given the social.emphasis on nurture and the satisfaction girls and women

* derive from it, it is not surprising to find that adolescent girls eagerly anticipate

motherhood. In fact, early motherhood is common. Those who choose motherhood

do not necessarily relinquish other goals. A typical attitude among young mothers

is:

Just because I have a baby doesn't stop me from getting grade twelve. I said I was going to be a child care worker, and that's what I'm going to do.

For some, motherhood is an alternative to school or to work outside the home.

One young woman, Beth, left school at the first opportunity, and soon married her

steady boy friend. For her, marriage and child rearing became her chosen

occupation. "I didn't like school much and was. never good at it. I quit at sixteen,

looked after grandmother, and now I'm glad to be pregnant."

In Beth's eyes, schooling is unnecessary; she does not feel it will help her to

become a mother or a future leader of her clan. Her mother-in-law, Lillian, who has

several professional daughters'and grand-daughters, is not disturbed by Beth's lack

of education. For her, a daughter-in-law who has shown maturity and concern for

others is a "good thing."

She's just what my son needs. He's going to obey her, and she's going to be the authority in that family. Already, she's looking after him. She's a good young woman and she'll be strong. [He] can always look up to her.

This young woman exemplifies the characteristics idealized in the phrase "a

154 little girl is not for nothing." She has matured early and proven herself as a good wife and mother and as a person upon whom elders can depend. With the birth of her own infant daughter, she is seen as a strong link to the future of Saik'uz.

Because she has followed her maternal grandfather (a former clan chief) in his clan, and because she "sits in his seat," she provides an essential symbolic link to the past. An elderly woman of her clan explains,

When we see her sitting with us we remember her grandfather. "If she's smart, she'll train her little girl to follow him too. That way, he won't be forgotten. In the old way, they would take a Carrier name and be skezah.... You see it all goes through the mother, and her grandfather, he had her come to his side [his clan] so he would be remembered by her.3

Beth is also respected for her interest in the traditions of women's work, particularly in fishing and gathering. Beth's participation in subsistence labour enhances her prestige in the eyes of older women. Following is a description of

Beth's activities during one summer (as recorded in my field notes).

Beth was five months pregnant in June. Nevertheless, she was eager to plant a garden with her mother-in-law. During the summer she entreated her husband to hunt, and when any meat came to her mother or her mother-in-law, she worked beside them, cutting, freezing, and canning the meat. She helped to dry fresh fish and to pick and can berries. Long before the first salmon run, she was discussing the need for nets and a boat, since her mother owned neither. When her mother-in-law began netting salmon she regularly went to help process and store it. From her mother-in-law she received a share of fresh and canned salmon. This she took to her mother who in turn distributed it to close relatives, the first

3 The transfer of a child to another clan permits a man to select either his own child or a daughter's child as a successor.

155 being her own aged mother, and then to needy elders.

As soon as the berries were ripe, she was anxious to pick them. Sunny afternoons when her mother was not working at the [band] office, were spent gathering strawberries, raspberries, saskatoons, and blueberries. While she picked, Beth contemplated her future as a mother, and liked to spend a great deal of time talking about pregnancy and childbirth in the old days when her grandmother was born.

Late in the salmon season, her mother had the opportunity to borrow nets which she set with me. When we returned with our catch early in the morning, Beth was ready at her mother's house. Under her mother's direction, she distributed fresh fish ... and then set to work cleaning and freezing the remainder. All the fish were stored in her mother's freezer, including several set aside for my use. Beth had begun work at 8:00 a.m. and did not finish until late afternoon.

Lillian commented on Beth's work:

That one, she works real good. She's skezah. and she lives up to it. Everyone knows she takes good care of her grandmother. She'll be a good mother, not lazy or running around.

A great aunt (MMBW) had this to offer:

Beth works hard, like her mother and grandfather. She takes the fish around for her grandmother and mother. She's going to be a good woman. She's learning the Indian way of feeding her family.

The respect that the Saik'uz Whut'enne hold for mothering forms the basis of women's domestic authority, authority built on their perceptions of women's responsibility for social harmony. The women of each family-the mothers, aunts, and grandmothers-are regarded as the collective voice of family authority. Public acknowledgement of women's domestic authority reveals an important aspect of

156 gender relations. Ideally, women are assertive, capable, and independent individuals,

willing to intervene in the lives of male kindred. Women do not hesitate to take

action against unseemly behaviour. Mothers scold adult sons and daughters for

social transgressions, sexual misconduct, and misdemeanours construed as neglect

of family and/or community. Women and men alike attribute family troubles to lack

of female authority and strength.

A middle-aged woman, for example, described her brother's family as one

without authority. According to her, because her sister-in-law did not "take charge,"

this family's tensions had erupted in violence. "She just let everybody run wild."

Because her adolescent niece had been injured, this women felt it was her

responsibility and right to intervene. As she explains,

Aunties are expected to act. We discipline our brother's kids. When I was growing up, my aunt was the one to discipline us. My mother could spoil us, but an aunt is different.

When her efforts proved unsuccessful, she and one of her brothers turned to their mother. He recalls,

I went right to my mother, and asked her why she let that get out of hand. I told her, and she did something about it the next day.... She should have done something before it got really bad.

Clearly, a family is shamed and loses face when women are unable to control intrafamily tensions. Ineffective women are the subject of public comment and general pity. In this incident, both the daughter-in-law and her mother were held responsible. The mother-in-law's attitude demonstrates this.

157 I pity her. Her mother was never strong. She didn't stand up to her husband, and she had no authority in that family. Now they are all in a bad way.... I pity them. My other son's wife, she was an orphan young and she didn't have a grandmother to teach her either. I guess she's going to have trouble always. Her family-there's trouble too because my son doesn't listen to her. My husband, he defers to me.

Men and women accept the interventions of older, authoritative women.

Seldom are mothers or aunts criticized for such intervention; it is rare, in fact, to hear any mother criticized for assertive behaviour. Married men acknowledge that when their own mothers do not reprimand them they are likely to face the ire of their mothers-in-law. One such incident happened in the middle of the salmon run. A middle aged man had spent a week of hard work helping his wife and her mother process the salmon, in itself a rare role for a middle-aged man. He then "went on a toot," partying all weekend. His mother-in-law admitted,

I sure got after him, running into the bars and acting up. But still, he should have some fun; he worked hard all week....

He sheepishly allowed, "I knew I was in for it."

When they marry, men accept the assertive roles taken by women. It is assumed that the men will not "take over" for a weak wife. A married elder, explained,

Sure, I gotta admit she's the boss. She's been boss right along. I don't say much about it, but I get crooked, party all week. Then her, she takes care of everything.... I guess everyone knows that's how it is.

Just as some men rely on female kin for creating men's jobs and for personal assistance, others recognize their own personal options are limited when their female

158 kin fail to provide them with such supporting roles. A former chief, now divorced and

with a reputation as a "honky tonk man," commented,

I'm nothing without a good woman. I can't keep a good woman ... I can't be chief anymore.

While some men agree that mothers or aunts should exercise domestic

authority, they also maintain that no family should be without male leadership as well.

Bob, a middle-aged man, one of the few Carrier with university education and with

considerable experience in tribal and reserve leadership, expressed his apprehension:

When the women get too strong in the family it can make pillows of the men. I was raised by my grandmother and aunts without any men about. Sometimes I think I could have been homosexual. Men can get too soft in a situation like that.

Although Bob was raised in Nadleh, he said, "Here it is no different. We respect

the elder women, but we need good men to lead us too." Despite these

reservations, he, too, turns to older women to mediate disputes and to guide troubled families. Referring to a female relation of his mother's, he said, "Auntie keeps that

family going, not like V , her family are all lost."

Obviously, the community has high expectations of women. When families

live and prosper in harmony, the mother is praised; when the opposite occurs, she

is pitied. This creates continual stress for older women. In reality, they have little

direct control over the adult members of their extended families. Nevertheless, a

reputation as an authoritative, concerned mother automatically commands high

esteem. As we shall see, mothers who wield domestic authority fairly and

competently are honoured and viewed as likely community leaders.

159 Mothers' responsibilities are not confined to the nurture of young children nor

to the maintenance of a well-run home. As women mature and their children reach

adulthood, mothers' responsibilities expand to include the well-being of sons-and

daughters-in-law, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews. In order to meet the needs

of their adult children and maturing grandchildren, women seek state funds for youth

employment and microeconomic projects, such as cultural and recreational centres,

community service centres, etc.

Men, too, stress the value they place on mothers. "You love your mother so

much," explained one male elder, "because she gave you her milk and took the

pain." A younger man put it this way. "Your mother is the one you can never lie to.

Maybe you can hold something back from your father, but you can't from your mother. She's the one you tell everything to." This special regard for mothers stems from the fact that younger women and men look to older women for support and advice. Like the old women of Saik'uz stories-grandmothers who raised orphans, or Old Woman who aided the cultural heroes-today's older women guide the younger generations. Young mothers rely on their own mothers for assistance in child rearing, while sons seek their mother's advice on personal issues, on obtaining funds for economic development projects, or on resolving tensions in personal relationships. As one man explains,

I don't have a head for all that number business. My sister [Elaine] and my mother do that; they're both trying to get money out of the department, so they can handle this too ... that's women's business; isn't that why you're doing this for me ? My sister and I were in business, and she took care of

160 the books.... If I need anything, I go to her.

The speaker's elder brother also relied on his mother, Isabelle Adams, and his sister,

Elaine, for financial help. These two women had just secured state funding for a

community building project and the brothers were waiting for the resulting work.

I guess I'll be working on that log house all summer. If my sister gets us that money, I'll be working again....

It's been tough. She's [speaker's wife] been working and that's no good for us, me without a job. There's a lot of trouble between us. My mother, she doesn't like this. I don't know why I'm telling you [white] woman this. You don't understand ... my mother is the one I turned to. She gets me this work, I guess to straighten me out ... I'm pretty crooked ... she's the one I tell about this.

The comments illustrate the importance men place on the public activities of their

female kin.

The phrase, "a little girl is not for nothing," embodies women's perceptions of their family roles and conveys ideas of their responsibility for community harmony.

Saik'uz women impose no arbitrary distinctions between household and public

responsibilities. Rather, they see the latter as the logical and necessary extension of the former: in order to perform wisely as a mother and wife, one must be able and willing to work for the benefit of the entire community. In their eyes, the best

community members are those who care well for their families. Consider an elder's

rhetorical question: "How can you raise healthy kids if the community is in trouble?

Women get involved for their families."

Unless there is a Woman

161 While the Saik'uz elders anticipate an important role for a young mother and wife who lacks formal education, they do not discount girls' needs for schooling or for leadership opportunities. Quite the opposite. They struggle to achieve a

harmonious balance between motherhood and the broader nurture and guidance of the community via social commitment and political leadership. Saik'uz women say that in a true matrilineal culture it is not just that "we come from our mothers," but that "we have clan mothers and community mothers who teach us and look after our people." Carrier leaders, therefore, desire the development of personal characteristics that will lead to future female leadership.

Elders and administrators recognize the necessity of professional and technical personnel essential to effective community government. Professional careers and management responsibilities are seen, in general, as roles that augment child rearing.

According to Lillian,

The girls need every bit of education, just like the boys. My girls worked hard for their education. How else are they going to look after their people? They have to learn to speak up when the people suffer. That's what their education is for; to make leaders of them. If I had been to school and university, there was nothing that could have stopped me.

We need our young women to become nurses and teachers. We need them to take over in the future and show the young generation how to survive.

Listening to her mother say this, Lillian's youngest daughter added,

Carrier women have always spoken up. I'm going to college to get my teaching certificate and then maybe law. I don't know. Business administration; we need that too. I don't see any young men ready for college. It doesn't matter so much,

162 as long as some of us get our university and come back to the [administration] office and run for councils

Elders and administrators do all they can to encourage young women to remain in school and to enter post-secondary institutions. Academic success is honoured. Financial and personal assistance is provided. Through their voluntary associations, women acquire funds for temporary student employment. Young women are offered jobs that will help develop leadership skills. They are hired to work in the administration office, to direct recreational programs, and to organize drug and alcohol abuse workshops and cultural awareness programs.

Elders and administrators also encourage young women to join service clubs for native students. Student voluntary associations have a dual mandate: to further

Indian students' social and academic endeavors, and to provide a focal point for their cultural and social concerns. As executive members, girls are brought into a milieu of negotiation with school administrators and teachers. Thus they become recognized as assertive individuals. A senior education administrator explained the pre-eminence of the girls and the rewards they received,

I guess the girls take over here. In that way they are just like the women on the reserve. The education committee is women, and maybe that's where the girls learn. We try to give them opportunities to organize for themselves and to help one another to stay in school. It is very important for them to have support from each other. We also want them to be involved in the school. This year their president will get an award for her involvement.

The club's president was one of three band members to graduate that year. Her grandmother, a member of the council's advisory education committee and other

163 reserve organizations, had this to say of her grand-daughter's (DD) achievement:

The other kids respect her. They look up to her for what she is doing. She's trying to get a library for them out here, and she's talking about raising money for it. She works hard as president for that action group and she has lots to show for herself. She's not afraid to speak up for them.

Elders provide guidance and emotional support to the administrative staff.

Female elders expect the band administration to be modelled on traditional concepts

of obligation and responsibility; therefore they assume that women who occupy

administrative positions will extend themselves to general issues of common concern.

For example, Derilyn, the band council's college educated welfare officer, undertakes

a myriad of social responsibilities that include, amongst others, executive

' membership on the Carrier Sekani Tribal Council, managing the men's baseball

team's finances, and organizing activities for children. With her college certificate she

has considerably more education than the majority. Therefore, more is expected of

her than of most young women, as one woman explained,

She's got the Tigers' [men's baseball team] business in control now. They couldn't manage nothing. There, too, there has to be a woman ... unless there is a woman, they just run wild with that money ... go haywire at the tournaments. That's no good.

She's smart that one. She gets right in there for them kids too. That's why she keeps that job. She doesn't just stop up at her desk.... She's what we need here; she'll be a good woman for the reserve. If she weren't from that other place she could get on council too.

Derilyn is constrained but not isolated by the fact she is not a band member.

Elected leaders and elders regret the structural limits, and treat the situation as if

164 these did not exist:

This year we'll try to put her on the tribal council... she'll speak up for Saik'uz.... She'll stick by the women for us. We need someone like her speaking up for us; the big bands are just for themselves and we need her.

They promote Derilyn's opportunities to participate in the tribal council, in

voluntary associations, and in provincial workshops. Other members of the

administration staff are treated in the same manner. Elders who are on the council's

advisory committees have a working knowledge of the staff and carefully establish

personal relations with them.

In summary, women are convinced that "unless there is a woman" involved

in every aspect of community life the community will falter. This perception of

women's social responsibility and capability underlies the elders' expectations for

young women and explains the emergence of women within the core of Saik'uz

leadership. Women who are successful become known in their own reserve and

outside as "good" and "strong" women and are recognized by natives and nonnatives

for their able leadership.

Good and Strong Women

The concepts "good" and "strong" distinguish middle-aged and elderly women from all others. The latter term is used almost exclusively in reference to elders.

Strong women are noted for their industry, loyalty, generosity, thrift, circumspection,

and sobriety. As a result, they have established sound reputations in both native and

nonnative communities. They are respected for past and present accomplishments,

165 for their reliable performances as wage labourers, and for their business acumen in

sales management, in the administration of small ranches, and in successful

management of state funds.

In the face of physical pain, they remain strong and stoic. In times of personal

crises, strong women are acclaimed for their equanimity. It is understood, however, that self-control does not indicate resignation or fatalism. Rather, strong women are

people who "make things happen"; they "speak up [and] take charge." In particular, strong women take command of family and community crises. Most important, strong women are loyal to their families and consistent in their adherence to a strict moral code of sexual fidelity. A woman who voluntarily leaves her marriage or whose partner has ended the union is not described as strong.

The term "good" is used most frequently in reference to middle-aged women.

Like their elders, good women assume the responsibilities of heading their families and are active in the community. They are active in traditional forms of subsistence labour; they are keen to know and to transmit their cultural heritage; and they are consistent in their commitment to community needs. They also act as community spokeswomen and mediate cross-cultural affairs. In other words, to be a good woman is to demonstrate some of the same abilities characteristic of strong women and to become known for personal courage and sincerity.

i) The Good Women

In today's community, prominent middle-aged women have established themselves by taking on a variety of community roles compatible with traditional

166 views of nurture: the provision of personal services, health care, and education.

Unlike the pre-eminent elders, these middle-aged women are not all mothers/grandmothers of large families. In this group, mothers of large families are under-represented. Two of the most eminent are adoptive mothers. A third has not assumed a maternal role. These three women occupy important public positions.

Two are band administrators, the other is central to her clan.

In the hierarchy of the band administration, the community health representative (who is also an elected councillor) and the band manager are the most prominent. Anne Baptiste was the only member of her generation to enter secondary school. Inspired by her mother's success in using traditional medicines, and encouraged by her own success in science studies, Anne chose a career in nursing. Following graduation from secondary school, she worked as an orderly and janitor at the local hospital to raise money for her nursing studies. After working in a number of towns and cities, she returned to her reserve and married. With changes in her domestic life, Anne's responsibilities expanded. The man she married had been married previously and was a grandfather to two infant grand-daughters.

The infants' mother could not care for them, and, when her husband died, Anne accepted guardianship of the two girls.

In her capacity as a nurse, Anne cared for the ill and the homebound elders, and was drawn into caring for sick infants. She was said to be "almost like a mother." Moreover, her regular salary enabled her to provide for others in her own family. With the rising unemployment of the 1970s, her contributions became

167 increasingly important. Like her mother, Lillian, Anne invests considerable energy in

women's traditional subsistence activities. She also has followed her mother into the

Native Mothers' Guild, a community service organization. In short, like her mother,

Anne is viewed as a women who provides for her people.

Eventually, Anne left her nursing position to become the band's Community

Health Representative, a position she held for fifteen years. As health representative,

she had daily interaction with all reserve members and administered a wide range of

services. She came to understand intimately each family's needs and was able to

provide personal services others could not.

By taking a leading role in the band council's advisory committees, Anne has

become a key figure in the band administration. In her position, she is privy to decisions affecting the most personal aspects of family life: the placement of foster children, the allocation of emergency and permanent housing, and the provision of special assistance for the elderly and the disabled. She conducts workshops on urgent community needs: alcohol and drug abuse, child abuse, prenatal care, and communicable diseases.

Her responsibilities are not circumscribed by a specific job description, nor by predetermined work hours. The people she serves take a traditional view of her role. In their eyes, Anne's first obligation is to her family, her second is to her "whole outfit," her third is to "her people." Within this frame of reference, she extends herself to meet the personal and financial needs of unemployed family members and of other kin. She is called upon at any time, day or night, to administer health care, to lend

168 her telephone, and to act as personal confidante and mediator in times of family stress and conflict.

Because of her position, it is not surprising that she is seen as a leader and a role model for girls. She has organized an association for young girls. These girls meet weekly to learn about health and hygiene, traditional female roles, Carrier crafts and arts, and traditional foods and medicines. Like all service workers on the reserve, Anne also competes for the federal government funds that provide student summer employment and short term community services. As an employer, Anne is a patron of young girls eager to accumulate working experience and to advance their employment opportunities.

Anne's life illustrates the continuity between familial and community obligations.

Not surprisingly, Anne's community service is linked ciosely to the community's political agenda. Since she was first elected in 1974, Anne has served three two- year terms on the band council. In selecting a political career she followed her mother, a former chief and long time councillor. All her other roles support Anne's candidacy as councillor.

She sees to everybody in her job. And she's into other things too, with that group for girls and everything. I guess that's what makes her good on the council; she knows what the job is all about.

She worked really hard with them kids of hers. Those kids, they sure can be crooked but she tries hard for them. It shows what a person can do. That's why people go out for her, because she knows the families and because she's smart. Education, that's what we need in the people we elect.

169 These comments, made by men, reveal the way community service is linked to family

care and leadership. In the words of an older women, "People who work hard are

somebody:... That's why everybody votes for her. The men too."

As a middle-aged leader within the community, Anne is not alone. The band

manager, Elaine, is the same age. Elaine's route into reserve politics differs from

Anne's, but the reserve population perceives it in much the same manner. Unlike

Anne, Elaine was absent from the reserve for much of her life. During her

adolescence, she contracted tuberculosis and was sent to a sanatorium. While away from home, she married a status Indian from a west coast band, thus losing her

membership in the Saik'uz band. For several years, she worked at a variety of jobs along the west coast, and after her marriage ended, she entered an enduring

relationship with a white man.

For a while, Elaine was involved in the women's movement, the only Saik'uz women to become involved in feminism.

That's where I learned to go ahead and be outspoken. I learned to be involved when I was part of the women's movement. Now I get called down for it. People say I act high toned and boss them. The women's thing was good for me; it gave me confidence to speak up for myself. I don't give in to everybody any more.

Some years later, in her forties, she returned home. Once home, she completed a high school equivalency program at the local college.

I came back here because Mom needed me to help her with her business. I helped her out and then I worked as a home- school coordinator. As a home-school coordinator, Elaine was required to mediate community and school misunderstandings and tensions and to intervene in students' home lives. In 1980, she was hired as band manager.

Elaine explains her work as looking after the people. "As band manager she is a "big stick" (that is, a traditional leader) of the village. Elaine follows a job routine that is inconsistent with the dominant culture's perception of community administration. Neither is her job wholly consistent with the Saik'uz view of how a leader ought to serve the community. Her position, like the community health representative's, is a blend of administration and leadership. As band manager,

Elaine is directly responsible to the band council and to DIAND. She must balance the expectations of these two, which often creates conflicts. In order to retain her position, she must demonstrate administrative skills consistent with those expected of a civil servant. At the same time, she must not be perceived to be directed by the

DIAND.

Like Anne, Elaine finds that her job extends far beyond scheduled office hours.

She is expected to attend meetings of the Carrier Sekani Tribal council, to participate in professional development workshops, and to attend workshops and conferences hosted by native organizations and federal government agencies. Additionally, she regularly attends cultural events hosted by other Carrier bands. She, too, must balance her obligations to family, extended kin, and community.

Because she is responsible for hiring administrative staff, as well as seasonal and part-time workers, Elaine faces greater tensions and criticism than does Anne,

171 even though Anne's dual roles as an elected councillor and the council's employee carry the constant potential for conflict. The band manager is vulnerable to allegations of nepotism. She may be accused of "letting her side down" if she hires or promotes members of other families and kin groups. Similarly, by helping her kin to obtain state funds for community projects, she may be condemned for advancing the interests of her kin above others. Elaine has the means to extend her patronage to a large number of individuals by offering them jobs, by doing them favours, and by advancing the interests of their voluntary associations. This is a critical point:

Elaine's mother is the central executive figure of two voluntary associations, and an appointed delegate on a regional board funded directly by the DIAND.

Her supporters define her strengths and success in terms of female abilities and attitudes. By following the example of her mother and by caring for everybody as if they were of her own family, she, too, learned to look after people. Her mother rationalizes her daughter's position as one best suited to a woman:

She got that job because she had lots of experience working. She knew what the people needed and she would fight for that. But she works too hard at it, she never stops when she's asked for something. It's because she's a woman, I guess; she tries really hard for everybody.... We've never really had a man in that job; it seems that women are better for it. It's the women around here that make things happen and look after the people.

Women often feel they are the ones to look after the community. Describing their band as "really just one family," they say that women quickly come to know the personal needs of band members and their families. It is not surprising, therefore,

172 to find that jobs of special cultural and political significance are frequently held by

women. It is true that female administrators do the hiring for these jobs, and it may

be that under the influence of a different band council, which must ratify the band

manager's selections, the situation could change. More critical, however, is the

women's perception that because they show the greatest social concern, they are the

most capable public figures. This rationale helps to explain the important public role

that a third woman plays.

Alice is the same age as Elaine. A single mother (she is separated from her

husband) with one adopted daughter, Alice often had several other children to raise.

When her sisters were unable to care for their children, Alice took charge. As the

eldest daughter of a former village chief and a niece of a clan leader, Alice is strongly

interested in Saik'uz history and culture. She speaks her language better than most

of her generation and studied linguistics in order to teach others to read and write

Carrier.

Although Alice has not held office in central political institutions, she does hold

important peripheral roles. For several years, she has been the deputy polling clerk for band elections and has taken an active role at nomination meetings for council

elections. She is deeply committed to her clan. Alice is a key figure in decision•

making, a frequent worker at funerals, and a regular participant at the potlatch. It is clear, however, that it is her own character that makes her the perfect choice for this

prestigious role. None of her siblings has been honoured in this fashion. In fact, her

brother has never been viewed as a suitable candidate for his father's positions of

173 chief and clan leader.

Alice recognizes her family's important position and recalls how, even as a child,

she was the one "to follow Dad around." She always made a conscious effort to

profit from his knowledge. He was highly esteemed in native and nonnative

communities alike, and she actively seeks similar respect for herself.

Although Alice suffered from tuberculosis and could never complete formal schooling, she has always had a strong interest in education. She has taken

upgrading courses, a range of training programs, and has a certificate for teaching the Carrier language. She has used her linguistic skills to help the community record its history and mythology. A few years before her father passed away, she tape- recorded his version of Carrier history. Today, she continues to learn from the elders and to record their life stories and historical narratives.

When she was a young woman, Alice worked across the country at various jobs requiring physical, semiskilled labour. Today, arthritis restricts her opportunities.

Yet her band administration and tribal council still see her as an ideal employee. As opportunities arise, Alice works on research projects sponsored by the band and tribal councils. She also acts as an interpreter for outside researchers, helping them to prepare genealogical charts and to conduct archival research.

The knowledge she gained from her research activities has increased her interest in, and capacity for, political involvement. When resource access was threatened by new policies of the Department of Fisheries and Oceans, the administrative staff appointed her to represent band interests. During 1984, she

174 represented the band at the Pacific Aboriginal Commission (an organization of both

British Columbian and American native groups), and at regional meetings of a

number of provincial fishing commissions.

Such involvement has enhanced her status in the community. Elders comment

favourably on her work and express optimism with regard to her future:

Alice is becoming a real good woman. She learned a lot from her father, and she should keep it up [learning from the elders].... She can help us out a lot on the land claims and the family trees, because she learned it when she was young. If she works hard, she can be a council member, too. It's good to have women like her on the council. The council should be the ones who worked hard and made something of themselves and their kids.

In the elders' eyes, Alice is a woman who will prove to be leader of the younger

generations. She, like Anne and Elaine, will provide a role model to others:

The kids today don't have nobody to watch and to learn from. You have to learn by watching others doing it; none of this talk, talk, talk, all the time. Alice, she learned from her father in them days. She always followed him about. If she keeps going like this, then maybe these haywire girls will take after her. That's what we need; someone the girls can take after.

Alice's story, while corresponding very little to the dominant society's ideals of

leadership, has a pattern that is consistent with that of the prominent female elders with whom she routinely associates as she works for the band and tribal councils.

ii) The Strong Women

Today, the five elders who are particularly active in community affairs are the ones most likely to be called strong women. They have raised large families, reared grandchildren and/or great grandchildren, and have long histories of wage labour.

175 All have demonstrated their competence in traditional subsistence tasks. As young women they trapped, fished and hunted, earning reputations for being as able as men in the bush. Whether married or widowed, each is recognized as the head of her family.

Isabelle Adams and Lillian Baptist (both of whom are married) are the female elders most active in Saik'uz. Their lives have followed similar courses: residential education, early, involuntary marriage, and young motherhood. From early adulthood, they balanced their need for wage labour and educational upgrading-lsabelle worked in the local hospital, Lillian as a custodian for the reserve day school-with active involvement in community affairs. In the 1940s, they both joined the Native Mothers'

Guild and have remained active in voluntary associations. As soon as the Indian Act permitted female councillors, they ran for office. At the same time, of course, both women were also caring for their large families, which included the care of orphaned children, elderly kin, the ill, and grandchildren. Today, they represent their band and tribal councils in court cases, on fishing commissions, and as mediators with local authority structures.

As stated previously, mothers are the voices of family authority. Their intervention in family troubles is not, however, restricted to immediate kin. They are expected to bring influence to bear on other troubled households, particularly when a woman has no immediate kin to provide such aid. When personal tensions result in wife beating for example, Isabelle and Lillian attempt to mediate. When an injured wife's own mother cannot act, or if the wife is from outside the band, Isabelle, her

176 sister-in-law Frances, or Lillian steps in. Their actions, far from being deemed

unwarranted interference, are actively desired.

In fact, when respected elders do not intervene, they are subject to public

criticism. In the summer of 1985, two young wives were injured by their husbands,

and public anger was high. It seemed everyone involved was found at fault: the

husbands for drinking, their wives for not "taking charge," and the female elders

closely associated with the husbands for not intervening. Isabelle and Lillian were

expected to act:

... who else is going to speak up? Linda, she don't have anyone else here and Isabelle should make that nephew of hers behave. He wouldn't have pushed a woman around when his mother was alive. And Stacey, her mother won't do nothing. And Edgar, he beat up his first wife too. Someone should tell them to do something before Stacey, she really gets hurt.

As they matured and gained stature in the community, Isabelle and Lillian became prominent in their respective clans. The perceived compatibility between female clan

leadership and women's general responsibilities hinge on women's particular

responsibilities for social harmony.

Respect for female clan leaders is linked to their ability to control emotional outbursts of kin and to mediate domestic disputes. Women explain that traditionally, the potlatch system was their "government." In the past, clan leadership reconciled disputes and personal differences between families and clans. Thus, clan leadership is said to be consistent with women's responsibility for emotional and social management; to stand as clan leaders, women must first manage their households

177 and extended families.

The clan used to be into everything, to look after everybody's business. A clan leader is respected if he [sic] looks after our people. But now it's harder. Young people don't have the same respect for the clans. So we do our business some new ways. The Elders are into everything now; they try to help out. I'm president of the Elders and head of my clan. It's special to be clan leader... not everybody can do it. They've got to know what you can do. You've got to get respect for what you do on the reserve.

Women's responsibilities in public office are defined in the same terms of

traditional obligations. As women and mothers they are expected to focus on the

immediate needs of their people. When she became band chief, Lillian felt her first

duty to her people was to provide for their social and health needs in exactly the same way as she provided for her family and clan:

It's all the same thing. I was looking after my people. I did the same job. My people were suffering, and I went into being chief to help them out. It goes back to the family. You have to look after every family, or it's no good. There wasn't anything for the young people. What could they do? The dance hall I put up so the young people could have some recreation. There's no recreation for kids here. That's why they get into trouble....

Membership in The Native Mothers' Guild, and more specifically, in its leadership, coupled with skills obtained through adult education programs, provided the necessary experience for Isabelle and Lillian to enter into a range of similarly- organized associations. Isabelle is an executive member of the National Native

Alcohol and Drug Abuse Program (NNADAP), a national native organization working under the auspices of federal state agencies. As an influential member of this

178 association, she is able to direct funds for social and cultural events to her reserve.

Employment and recreation programs for youth are given priority. As an active

member in NNADAP, she attends regional and provincial conferences. Isabelle also

sits on the executive of an environmental group formed to oppose the Alcan

Aluminum Company's development proposal. In this position, she faces the

contradictions of sharing common concerns for natural resources with members of

the white community, while at the same time bringing to focus conflicts between her

people and the environmentalists, who do not necessarily support aboriginal rights

or the principles of land claims. It is critical, therefore, that representatives to

interracial associations be people of credible political expertise, adept at manoeuvring

through the entanglements of divided interest groups who come together on a single

issue. It is clear that Isabelle is aware of the nebulous nature of her position.

I have to let them know where we stand. It's the women's fishing we are talking about. If they build that dam our fishing will end. Louise [ a white woman on the committee] talks about controlling the river [i.e after a dam is constructed]. She's not speaking for our fishing. Our fishing camps will all be gone.

The Native Mothers' Guild has held workshops and meetings with local fish

and game clubs hoping to inform sportsmen of their position and to find common

strategies for intervention. Lillian has been a central figure in the Native Mothers'

Guild for more than two decades. Additionally, she is respected widely for her "gift"

as a speaker. She, too, travels from Saik'uz to represent the band and tribal councils at numerous conferences, workshops, and confrontational meetings with state

179 agencies.

Lillian has been prominent at meetings with the British Columbian provincial ministry of wildlife, protesting further restrictions imposed upon native net fishing, and with the federal Department of Fisheries and Oceans, struggling against industrial development and habitat destruction and threatened restrictions on salmon catches.

She participates in a range of native organizations and fishing commissions that represent native interests from Alaska to California and throughout provincial interior.

She has been called as a witness at court trials in central and southern British

Columbia, where she has explained and defended the practice of subsistence salmon fishing.

As traditional women and as modern leaders, Isabelle and Lillian have proven their abilities. In both capacities, they attract the attention and earn the praise of the local white community. One year, the local Rotary Club honoured Isabelle as its citizen of the year. Lillian has been featured in newspapers and books for her t political acumen, social dedication and traditional artistic talents.

Although these two women have achieved greater honour and prestige than their peers, three other women are also recognized for strength and personal achievement. Frances, Isabelle's sister-in-law, is a clan leader, head of a large household of children and foster children, and a long-standing executive member of voluntary associations. Unlike Isabelle or Lillian, she has never held public office.

She has, however, sat on advisory committees to the band council, and is the delegated elder on the executive of the Tribal Council.

180 Her life has unfolded in a common pattern. Orphaned, she attended

residential school. In late adolescence she entered an arranged marriage with a

widower who had a family of his own. Together, they soon had more children.

Frances, like her peers, provided for her family through subsistence labour, earning

the reputation of "hunting like a man." She has held a range of jobs. She, too, is

well known for her craft work and community contributions. Now widowed, she

supports herself by rearing foster children and by selling crafts.

Hannah, a close friend to Isabelle, does not have the advantages of high

status or of a large family. Some thirty years ago her husband, who is now

deceased, voluntarily enfranchised himself, and Hannah lost her Indian status. Since

then, her position on the reserve has been precarious and marginal. In accordance

with the wishes of the band council she lives in her deceased brother's house. In

several respects, Hannah is protected by Isabelle's influence. Isabelle and her

daughters seek out Hannah's friendship and political support. As detailed in the next

chapter, Hannah's importance to the Adamses depends on her connections to the

white community and her position in voluntary associations. At 79, Hannah is the

image of the caring old woman, the traditional grandmother. Although she does not wield influence independently, she is well respected and her support is seen as an

important asset.

The last of the five strong women is Lillian's sister-in-law, Marion. Widowed,

Marion is not a leader in the sense that Frances, Lillian and Isabelle are, but she is a long standing-member of the Native Mothers. She, too, has reared a large family

181 and has recently assumed responsibility for her daughters' children. Descended from a high status family, she married the son of a dunezah who was elected chief.

Marion makes no direct claims to leadership. She has never been a councillor, nor is she seen as a leader of voluntary associations. Rather, she is esteemed for her consistent hard work for the church, for voluntary associations, and for her community. She is respected for her intelligence, her traditional knowledge, and her overall competence. Like Hannah, by virtue of her reputation as a woman of strength and commitment, Marion adds credibility and social prestige to her extended kin groups and to the Native Mothers' Guild.

Summary and Conclusions

Carrier ideology does not regard women's obligations in a unidimensional perspective. Women's domestic roles are not devalued. Nor are women's public obligations seen as secondary to immediate domestic functions. Rather than domestic roles limiting women's options in the public domain, they facilitate women's engagement in community issues. Women who wield domestic authority fairly and competently are honoured as mothers and viewed as potential community leaders. Female elders aspiring to influence community affairs and desiring the respect that elders are granted, must be known as women who can provide well for their kin and the needy of the community. Women who have achieved such all- round respect "can make things happen." When they speak, others listen.

The older, strong women hold a special position in the community's social structure and world view. On the one hand, they represent traditional values and

182 knowledge, on the other hand they have acquired skills associated with cultural change and modernization. In other words, these women are esteemed as ideal nurturers and as leaders upholding the time-honoured image of Old Woman. At the same time they are successful because they have the capacity for leadership in the imposed white man's system. Being female is instrumental to their strategies of leadership, for as the following chapters illustrate, those women who succeed as leaders are the ones who conduct themselves according to the ideological foundations of their culture.

183 CHAPTER SIX

DOMESTIC LIFE AND KINSHIP ORGANIZATION 1

Introduction

In this chapter I describe domestic life and kinship organization in relation to

the economic conditions of the reserve. I pay specific attention to the position of

women within the kin groups and to the ways in which women affect their formation

and membership. I ask, What are women's domestic functions and how do these

affect domestic life and kinship organization?

Welfare Colonialism

The socio-economic conditions of Saik'uz conform to those defined by Paine as "welfare colonialism" or "welfare dependency" (Paine 1977). In conditions of welfare colonialism an underdeveloped community is not only wholly dependent upon the state for economic resources, it is also subjected to the state's definitions of it as a social problem (ibid.:14-15). Control of economic resources resides with the state. The community lacks the power to determine the amount or nature of the resources offered to it and exercises very limited discretion in their reallocation. In a similar vein, social and cultural programs are defined and controlled by state agencies, often in a paternalistic fashion.

As stated earlier, at all levels of economic management, Saik'uz relies upon

1 I am grateful to Harold McGee for reading earlier versions of most of this chapter. He kindly offered advice on charting the structural and social relationships of the kin-based social groups, and provided insightful comments on the analysis of kinship organization and female domestic authority.

184 state funding. The primary source of personal income, whether earned or unearned, devolves from programmes administered by federal agencies. The community lacks entirely an independent fiscal base, such as the right to levy taxes, to determine

royalties on resources, or to transfer funds for social assistance programmes to employment schemes. Community administration of social, educational, and cultural programmes creates its limited employment opportunities. In short, economic development is contingent upon the state and lies totally outside of community control.

The government provides contributions to personal income through social transfer payments. DIAND grants social assistance funds for the unemployed, which the welfare officer distributes to reserve residents. Under this programme, the district office of DIAND sets assistance rates for subsistence according to regional standards established by the provincial government. There is, however, a crucial difference between DIAND and provincial rates. DIAND rates, which apply only on the reserve, include housing costs only for home owners. Moreover, these subsidies are calculated only to cover minimum costs. Fuel subsidies, for example, may not cover actual expenses; other expenses, such as appliance repair and replacement, are not subsidized. Interpersonal tensions are the inevitable results of this policy. Home owners, understandably, prefer household members to contribute to routine costs.

At the time of research, monthly social assistance payments ranged from $175 for a single, presumably employable adult to $775 for a household unit of ten.

185 Handicapped individuals and others categorized as unemployable received only

slightly more than other single adults, $245 monthly, with no guaranteed provisions

for subsidization of additional costs borne as a consequence of a disability.2 The

band's welfare officer has some discretion in social assistance allocation. She can

classify individuals as employable or otherwise and can disperse a small portion of

the budget for unexpected expenses arising from unavoidable emergencies.3

The subsidized housing programme offered by DIAND is another factor of

welfare colonialism. The management of the housing programme exemplifies the

degree of outside control exercised over Saik'uz and its far reaching impact on

household organization and social relations. Under this programme, the federal

government assumes responsibility for providing new houses for reserve residents.

In 1984, a new housing programme, known as "social housing," was introduced.

Federal responsibility for housing costs is now divided between DIAND and the

Central Mortgage and Housing Corporation (CMHC). Now bands are required to

borrow funds from an approved lender, a bank or trust company, to cover fifty per

cent or more of the capital costs. Interests rates are subsidized by CMHC leaving

2 These income levels fall well below the poverty line as established by National Council of Welfare. In 1982, the poverty lines for rural areas were set at $7,322 for an individual and $20,719 for a family unit of seven or more (National Council of Welfare 1984).

3 The depth of reliance on social assistance is indicated by the fact that almost one half of the 1983-84 band budget was allocated to social services: $356,398 or 46.7 percent of the total budget of $763,263. In contrast only $116,475 was allotted .to band operations.

186 the band to pay two per cent per annum on its loan. According to the DIAND

annual report, in 1984 the national average cost of a housing unit was $40,000;

DIAND offered a subsidy of $20,000 per unit, and CMHC subsidized a loan, held by

the band, which covered the balance.

The band owns the homes and enters into rent-to-own agreements with

individuals. Employed home owners make monthly payments of up to twenty-five

per cent of their income; unemployed home owners have their social assistance

allowances adjusted to cover the loan payments. Payments are based on market

rents for comparable accommodation off the reserve.

The allotment of housing funds lies entirely in the hands of DIAND. Allocations

are made to the Carrier Sekani Tribal Council which then redistributes the funds

amongst its fourteen member bands. The band council's housing committee then

divides its share among reserve residents. Individual applicants pay a deposit of

$500.

The housing programme does more than provide accommodation. It also

creates seasonal jobs for a few young men. During the research period, up to fifteen young men were hired to construct ten houses. Working under the supervision of a non-Indian contractor, they learned the skills of the construction trade and earned approximately $1000 to $1500 per month, entitling them to unemployment insurance of 60 per cent of their salary for the rest of the year. The practical training young men receive, however, is limited; it leaves them at a level of expertise below that of neighbouring Euro-Canadians. Hence, they remain outside of the larger labour

187 force. The programme cannot offer anyone financial security; the number and

duration of jobs fluctuate each year according to the number of housing units

granted.

Household Composition

In Saik'uz, the chronic shortage of village funds, coupled with a shortage of

housing units and extraordinary high unemployment, gives rise to a shifting

population and an overcrowded, unstable housing situation. Resident units range from family groups of two to four generations, to unstable households of several

men, to married couples, and to solitary adults. The population is spread

disproportionably among the houses. For example, 1 two-bedroom home shelters

5 adults and 5 children, while 3 smaller houses, designed for single occupancy,

may contain up to 4 or more men. Larger houses may have fewer residents. Some

married couples, who are without children or whose adult children have their own homes, may only occasionally share their homes with others. In a matter of a few days a household may lose as many as dozen residents, or it may gain residents equally rapidly, as when an elderly widow takes in grandchildren or when adult children return to the reserve. Individual mobility afforded by the personal income of welfare and by access to shared domestic resources means that individuals may depart from or enter into households as circumstances require.

While the actual membership of any household may change frequently, some patterns of residence can be identified. As Table 5 shows, households of two or more generations most commonly form in the homes of married couples and

188 Table 5

Number of Generations Living in Households by Marital Status of Household Head

Marital Status of Household Head

Married Couple1 Nonmarried2 Widowed Total

Number 1 5 17 2 24 of 2 14 7 5 26 Generations 3 5 11 5 21 4 4 2 2 8

Total 28 37 14 79

1. Includes consensual marriages.

2. Includes never married, separated, and divorced.

Source: Village Census conducted March 1984. Recorded in field notes.

189 widows, and far less frequently in the homes of nonmarried household heads. Only

5 of 28 married couples and 2 of 14 widowed persons live in single generational homes. Yet almost half of the nonmarried household heads, 17 of 37, live in single generational homes.

As indicated above, the housing program subsidized by the DIAND cannot accommodate everyone who wishes to live on the reserve. The band administrators and the housing committee grant priority to established family units (of one or two parents) with dependent children. Single adults, very young mothers, and couples without children have less chance of receiving their own homes. Former band members who have lost their Indian status and their nonstatus adult children, whether they, too, are parents or not, face even greater difficulty. Only when their status kin are willing and have surplus space can nonstatus families either occupy older homes vacated by their kin or seek space with their relatives.

Some nonstatus women, anxious to have their children raised in the Carrier culture, send their children to the reserve while they remain elsewhere. In addition, individuals who have left Saik'uz frequently return to live with relatives, reaffirming emotional ties, taking advantage of temporary summer employment, or participating in seasonal subsistence activities. In their effort to receive a new home, it is not unusual for adult siblings to propose a common residence and advance the argument that, should they receive a new home, it would be occupied fully.

The result is overcrowding. Houses supplied by DIAND are not designed for

190 multifamily use; they are relatively small (less than a thousand square feet) one-

storey single family houses. With the crowded housing come friction and tension,

thrusting some family members from their relatives' homes and forcing them to

reside outside of the village. Within the village, some adults and children continually

move from house to house in search of a home with relatives and friends.

Disillusionment caused by poverty and insecure housing results in heightened tensions within intimate relationships. Marriages, either legal or consensual, are brittle. Women may refuse marriage in order to retain their Indian status, while men may avoid clear commitments because of their inability to provide for dependent children. Among adults over thirty years of age, considerably more men than women are permanent reserve residents: 65 men and 46 women. In this population segment, there are only 18 legally married couples. With 47 (49.3%) of the men over thirty either single, separated, divorced, or widowed, households of solely adult male residents frequently form. Given the high unemployment rate, most men are unable to fulfil the cultural expectations of providing consistent economic support for women and children. Reliance on social assistance allows men to form their transitory households without disrupting the income of their immediate kin.

The current allocation of houses takes into account the brittle nature of marriages and a preference on the part of some women for single motherhood.

Whereas in the past homes were granted more frequently to males, married, or single, more recently the tendency has been to provide single mothers with their own homes. Women now own twenty-seven of the community's eighty-two houses (Table

191 Table 6

House Owners by Marital Status and Gender

House Owners

Male Female Total

Marital Married1 29 - 29 Status Single 15 9 24 Widowed 5 13 18 Separated/Divorced 6 5 11

Total 55 27 82

1. Includes consensual marriage.

Source: Records of Stoney Creek Band Office

192 6). Women associate domestic conflicts and violence with male drinking and disillusionment from unemployment. Avoidance of continued violence is often cited as a reason for women to seek economic autonomy and to have their own homes.

Women argue that they can exert greater control over their male partners when they enjoy the security of home ownership. As home owners, women determine the conditions of male residence and get community support for refusing to continue living in a violent relationship.

Dependency upon subsidized housing forces the most personal decisions concerning co-residence into the public forum. Marital tensions and sibling incompatibility all become the subject of public discussion as households split and generate new housing demands. The continual reformation of households and interpersonal' conflicts have community-wide ramifications.

The blurred boundaries between domestic and public concerns have their parallel in established cultural practices. Semipublic use of houses, whether for pleasure or for conducting community business is the norm. Weekend partying is a regular feature of Saik'uz social life. Into the early morning of most weekends, the young and bored cruise through the streets seeking amusement. They pour in and out of homes without any specific invitation. Partying can lead to house guests who remain until breakfast or even for several days longer.

Apart from partying, the homes of single men regularly attract casual visitors, even in the homeowner's absence.

Where partying is not welcome, for example, in the homes of elders, of families

193 with young children, or of nondrinkers, other semipublic activities are enjoyed. An

older woman may agree to unplanned child sitting or find that a number of younger

women show up for assistance in their arts and crafts. Women like to gather in the

elders' living rooms to share craft work, which they will sell for personal income or for community funds. Informal meetings occur to discuss reserve affairs and to make

plans for social occasions. Just as domestic issues are resolved outside of the

private sphere, so community business is routinely conducted within the home.

Family and Kinship Organization

i) The Family and Extended Family

The semipublic nature of domestic life is consistent with the very broad concept of family that dominates kin relations. Even distant kin, such as second cousins or grandnieces and grandnephews, are considered family. English and

Carrier sibling terms4 apply to all first cousins. If close personal relationships obtain between distant cousins, sibling terms may also be used.

When asked to define family, elders differentiate between "close" family members and "distant" relatives.5 In practice, however, most kin are referred to as family, and little, if any, distinction is made between close and distant relatives.

4 This usage is consistent with Central Carrier terminology. Shirley Walker notes that "present day usage of terms equates all first cousins with brothers and sisters" (Walker et_al. 1974:379).

5 Distinctions between close and distant family or kin are common among the Carrier people. Within the broad category of relatives, snatneku. some kin are close, susnatneku. others are distant, uasnaten (Hudson 1983:186; cf. Goldman 1963:335).

194 There is no indigenous or vernacular term that clearly differentiates a nuclear family-

-wife, husband, dependent children-either from a three or four generation family unit

or from a domestic group composed of two or more nuclear families. In keeping

with their understanding of past social organization, Saik'uz Whut'enne maintain that the "extended family" was and should now be the fundamental unit bearing

responsibility for economic co-operation and child rearing. Their usage of the term

extended family, however, is ambiguous; it may designate a personal kindred or the

children and grandchildren of an identified couple or individual (that is, a single

parent, children, and grandchildren).

In the discussion that follows the term "family" is used to indicate a co-

residential kinship group that engages in daily decision making and that shares domestic functions. "Extended family" indicates a larger decision-making group spanning more than two generations and comprising two or more related families who occupy separate households, poo! economic resources, and share child-rearing responsibilities. Decision making within the extended family is differentially distributed; for example, the eldest woman commonly stores and controls allocation of a shared food supply or intervenes to settle disputes among other adult members.

Members of task groups are most commonly drawn from the constituent families and organized under its eldest member.

Despite the overlapping of kin ties within the community, not everyone is a member of a family or extended family. Alleged deviation from norms of generosity and co-operation may result in ostracism. For example, one elderly male, who has

195 no living siblings or children, is isolated as a consequence of alleged harmful and selfish behaviour. Marginal families with little status, few resources, and few resident members do not aggregate into larger groups.

The economics of welfare colonialism affect the division of domestic functions and financial responsibilities of family members. As in the past, mutual aid among related households is essential for individual units to remain viable. Even when married couples or single parents establish separate households, they are unlikely to achieve economic autonomy; extended families pool domestic resources and share their labour and cash incomes. The prevailing shortage of money and work has culminated in quite different responsibilities for women and men and offers women some advantages over men: control over subsistence foods, greater cash incomes because of child support cheques, and a handful of permanent jobs on the reserve. The gender division of subsistence responsibilities affects cross-sex relationships and the allocation of authority.

ii) Domestic Responsibilities

In the current economic circumstances women bear greater responsibility for the production and allocation of domestic provisions than do men. As noted earlier, women net and control the distribution of salmon, the staple food. Women produce salmon for family consumption, for distribution to needy community members, and for community events. They consider all these factors as they calculate their annual requirements. Women also consider the costs of various forms of processing. That is, they weigh the rather high costs of canning fish for distribution outside the kin

196 group (often the canning jars are not returned) against the more economical

methods of drying or, if they own large freezers, freezing the fish.

Women are prudent when they distribute their salmon. They first take care of the very elderly, particularly widowers and elders who cannot rely on their families for salmon. Young women and men also depend on the largesse of these same women. How much food an individual receives depends on the quality of her/his

relationship to the senior women. One female elder explained her criteria for sharing fish with younger adults:

I'm very careful. It's no good just handing it out like any old ration, making people lazy. I give it to the workers first.

The young, in turn, openly praise the women who provide for them. One young man stated,

That Isabelle, she locks after everybody. She helps them out. Last winter, them days I had nothing. She was real good to me that time.

Nine female elders own fish nets, boats or canoes, trucks or cars, and the sundry equipment needed for the annual fishery. Working with their junior kinswomen, daughters, daughters-in-law, grand-daughters, and nieces, they fish sufficient supplies for their three or four generational extended families and for needy community members. Few other women own the full range of necessary equipment and are, therefore, to some degree dependent upon those who do. Women without any equipment are happy to have an opportunity to share in the elders' task groups.

197 To the best of my knowledge, men do not own fishing equipment. Some

men assist the women by carrying heavy loads, by transporting women and gear

to the netting site, and by aiding the actual setting of the nets, but it is the female

elders who own the equipment, organize the work, preserve the catch, and

distribute the surplus. This division of labour and proprietorship is not unusual

among the various Carrier bands, as Kobrinsky observed at Babine Lake:

It is remarkable that the arduous work of setting and gathering the nets (as well as of repairing the nets) is entirely the function of the women. Of course, the women are also responsible for cleaning and smoking of the fish ... at the present time the men who were once entirely responsible for-the trapping and killing of the salmon are confined to performing only certain ancillary jobs, including the repair of boats, smokehouses, and the maintaining of a good wood supply at the smokehouse. It has been explained to me that the men do not fish salmon on Nilkitkwa because to be seen setting or gathering nets on a lake is akin to being "caught in the kitchen with an apron" (Kobrinsky 1973:35).6

Kobrinsky also recognized that women control the allocation and sale of processed fish:

I would only note finally that, as might be expected in the circumstances, smoked fish must be purchased from the women, and the proceeds from the sale are strictly theirs (ibid.:37).

Precise calculations of the fish catch are not available from the Saik'uz

6 Given the economic and cultural significance of salmon, and the intense struggle to protect aboriginal rights to the fish, I am not persuaded that men viewed the work of fishing as lightly as Kobrinsky suggests.

198 Whut'enne. The Department of Fisheries and Oceans, however, recorded the 1984 sockeye catch along the Nechako River (from the mouth of the Stuart River to

Nadleh) at 10,482 fish (Schubert 1985). At the estimated dressed weight of sockeye salmon of 1.8 kilograms (4.1 pounds), the 1984 catch provided approximately

18,867.8 kilograms or 42,976.2 pounds of edible fish. This catch is taken primarily by members of the Saik'uz and Nadleh bands, whose total reserve residents number approximately 500. This catch provides each resident with approximately

38 kilograms (89.95 pounds) of salmon.7

Large game hunting, a male activity, cannot supply the same abundance as fishing. Provincial game laws restrict off reserve hunting to a few weeks in late summer and fall, making it difficult for men to procure an adequate supply for year round consumption. During the season set by provincial game laws, however, hunting is the focal interest of the community. Men usually hunt in small groups of two to four, very rarely more. Women join the men, particularly if the planned hunting will not take them away from the reserve overnight. Hunters bring their game home to be butchered and preserved.

Meat processing is primarily the work of women, although men, in particular older men, assist with it. Women's task groups are made up of the hunter's female kin. When two unrelated men hunt together, each takes a portion to share with his

7 Hudson recorded 1975 sockeye catches by household for the Stuart Lake Carrier. The average production was roughly 272 kilograms (600 pounds) per household. As Hudson explains, these fish would be shared with nonfishing households in the community.

199 kin. Distribution of game takes place at the time of the hunt. Individual households may either use it fresh or store it for later use. In the latter case, the surplus supply is controlled by women, thus enhancing women's reputations as generous providers to the needy. One young man suggested that the hunter will have only minimal say in its distribution, especially if he is young. In his case, he brought his game to his grandmother, who directed its allocation.

Because of the provincial game laws, which levy penalties for hunting out of the established season, of the lack of state recognition of aboriginal rights to natural resources, and of past seizures of outlawed game by wildlife officers, the community is reluctant to provide estimates of their game consumption. In the event of out- of-season hunting, the distribution of game takes place as quickly and as unobtrusively as possible. I recorded one instance in my fieid notes. A moose was taken in August. Although it had been shot in the afternoon, the hunter did not return with it until dark. He took it to his mother-in-law, and she and several of her daughters and a son butchered the meat and allocated portions for distribution to other families. The men quickly circulated the meat to various households of older women. There the meat was divided into smaller portions and given to other elders and to the households of the woman's children. The meat was eaten fresh or was frozen. It was explained that stores of moose meat were at their lowest in late summer, so fresh meat is particularly desired.

Women also contribute to the costs of hunting. Women who do not hunt may subsidize the expenses of a male hunter. By lending a rifle or a truck, by

200 purchasing ammunition, or by offering personal services to a hunter, women can

expect a generous share of his game. Social assistance payments to single or

separated men are grossly inadequate for subsistence and can rarely, if ever, be stretched to cover other expenses. Hence, unless they already own rifles and vehicles or can borrow them from others, the costs of hunting are beyond their

personal means.

Domestic production entails far more than just providing food. Women and men offer a range of services to one another that would otherwise be unattainable to the majority of reserve residents. Women make and repair clothing for their children and other kin. They also cut hair, share home-baked goods, and offer a range of personal services. In a similar fashion, men aid their families and community by cutting firewood, repairing houses, home appliances, and vehicles.

Women also contribute to domestic provisioning through organizing community rummage sales and clothing exchanges.

Wives and husbands maintain considerable personal autonomy in the management of their economic affairs. Money is not necessarily pooled between spouses; wives and husbands speak of "my money" and "his [or her]" money.

Since there is no common ownership, references are not made to "our" money.

Cash income is considered to be personal property. Women may enjoy a higher income than their husbands if they sell handicrafts or take in foster children. When a married couple is on social assistance, they frequently share a common income.

However, should a husband not use the family cheque to care for his children, the

201 money may then be given to his wife. Or, if disagreements over the common

income cause domestic conflict, the welfare administrator can issue separate

cheques.

Loans and assistance to kin are given independently of one's spouse. This

sense of individual control extends to personal property such as trucks or cars.

Should a women own a vehicle, even if she does not drive it, her husband would

not assume responsibility for allowing others to use it, not even the couple's sons or daughters. Women are often registered vehicle owners, rather than their husbands or live-in sons, because this ensures their control over needed transportation. When a vehicle is used by many members of an extended family, the owner can expect payment for its use and its maintenance.

Women who must rely on their sons or husbands for transportation are at a decided disadvantage. Strong respect for individual autonomy makes it difficult for these women to insist on male co-operation. One elder, living on an isolated farm, explained that her husband's failure to remain at home with his truck often made her miss important meetings and prevented her from salmon fishing as frequently as she desired. She lamented that she had not bought a truck herself and planned to do so with income earned from a cultural project and from handicraft sales.

Women also assume more responsibility for child care than men do. As Table

7 shows, households headed by men do not include dependent children.

Conversely, all but one household headed by women do include dependent children. Whereas it is not unusual for a teenaged boy to live with female kin, for

202 Table 7

Presence of Dependent Children by Gender Composition of Adult Residents of Households

Gender Composition of Adult Residents

Male Female Male & Female Total

Children Present 17 36 53

No'Children Present 18 26

Total 18 18 43 79

Source: Village Census conducted March 1984. Recorded in field notes.

203 example, with an older sister and one or more female cousins, female adolescents never live with male kin unless an older woman is permanently residing there also.

Large households form in order to care for children. Stable multigenerational households occur only where women assume responsibility for household management and provide regular child care. Grandmothers become primary caretakers when mothers cannot, for example, when nonstatus daughters who permanently live off the reserve send their children to reside on the reserve; or they become secondary caretakers when mothers are regularly absent from the reserve.

This is so whether the grandmother is married or widowed. Conversely, family units of two or more generations rarely cohere in the homes of widowed grandfathers or in homes where the grandmother does not assume child care responsibilities. A widower is far more likely to live in a home headed by an adult child or to share his own home with a changing male membership. In 1984, one of four widowers was living permanently in his own home with children and grandchildren.

Unless a father lives with his children, he rarely assumes routine parental responsibilities. Men who live apart from their children may indulge them and find time for socializing with them, but these fathers do not provide daily care. Men with steady employment are able to provide economic support and have the most continuous relations with their children. During the research period, all but one of the nine employed men were married and living with their wives and families.

204 Extended family organization tends to be female-centered8 with an emphasis on uterine relationships. Children are greatly desired whether their parents are married or not. Young mothers prefer to live near or with their own mothers.

Related single mothers share child care and form their own social subgroups. Older female kin provide financial assistance to young mothers; grandmothers and aunts

(MZ and FZ) assume routine responsibility for discipline and general child care.

Close ties and shared residences are also common between women and their sisters' adult or adolescent daughters.

Children acquire important kinship links through their fathers whether they live with them or not. A man's sisters and mother will accept an active role in nurturing the children that he has fathered. Children may live with the paternal grandmother or receive financial assistance from her and the father's sisters. During the research period, three grandmothers had their sons' children living with them while the mothers lived elsewhere.

One man's mother and sisters had close associations with three of his former partners. One of the women and her child lived with the man's mother. A second lived near the reserve, and her children were frequent weekend visitors to their

8 Stivens (1984) analyzes the tendency towards female-centered kinship patterns in societies peripheral to capitalist development. She points to an underlying pattern in which the focus of relationships in both male and female headed households is on female kinship solidarity, strong geographical and/or economic concentrations of female kin, and frequent pooling of material and aid through female links. Albers (1983) describes these conditions for the Sioux and agrees with Blumberg and Garcia (1977) that they emerge in conditions of marginality and poverty.

205 paternal grandmother's home. The daughter of the third, who lived at some

distance, spent her school holidays with her paternal grandmother. At the same

time, this man had contested, and lost, a paternity suit. Although he eventually

acknowledged the child, his mother and sisters neither helped the young mother nor

spoke of her child as a nephew.

As discussed in preceding chapters, women's personal autonomy and

domestic authority derive from exercising control over domestic provisions and from

the high esteem accorded mothers. These combine to sustain a key domestic

position for elderly women. Grandchildren, in particular adolescents and young

adults, rely on their grandmothers' generosity, and, in consequence, find themselves

caught between their desire for independence and the need for assistance. When

short of cash, they may approach their grandmothers (or their grandfathers) for a

loan; when short of food, they are likely to visit, and to stay for a short while, in their

grandmothers' homes. Gibson avers that government transfer payments to the

elderly not only "unintentionally preserved and strengthened" the extended family but

left the typical grandmother "in command" [since] it is from her pension that the

food has been bought, but as well pushed young men "to the fringe of the family

group" (1972:53,36,37).

In the daily provisioning of their households, women have many opportunities to call on their female kin for assistance. There is a clear, although informal, order

in the frequency of sharing relationships among kin. The preferred relationships for

a woman are with her mother, daughters and sons, and sisters. A man also

206 maintains close relationships with his mother and his sisters, but given the economic

imbalance between sisters and brothers, men are more likely to find themselves

indebted for cash loans or domestic provisions. Economic unity is minimal in all-

male households. Each resident retains ties of assistance with his kin independently

of the others' needs and personal arrangements.

Surplus distribution outside close kin networks also takes place in a definite

but informal pattern. Goods and services tend to be shared most commonly

between groups of extended families.9 Reciprocal economic ties and social

obligations unite extended families into larger flexible but identifiable social units that

change with the nature of events, residence, economic needs, and friendships.

The Outfit

i) Organization

Overlapping with community members' broad conception of an extended family is their notion of an "outfit." Saik'uz Whut'enne use this term loosely and

ambiguously. Most commonly, however, they apply the term to social groups

primarily composed of related extended families who share a sense of common

identity and who express social and political solidarity. People think of these as

descent groups because, the identity of an outfit derives from a forefather's

patronym. Thus people talk about the "Adams" or "Baptiste" outfit (all names are

9 Similar patterns of exchange and assistance are common to native communities. Mooney suggests that interhousehold co-operation persists "despite, or perhaps because of, integration into a market economy and wage labour" (1989:49).

207 fictitious).10

Outfit membership need not coincide with boundaries of extended families.

Membership can be claimed by descent through either parent or any grandparent to an apical ancestor, by affinity, or by obligations of friendships grounded in shared labour or common economic goals. Individuals of either sex may be affiliated with prominent members of an outfit. Moreover, the multifaceted nature of claiming membership allows almost everyone the option to claim membership in two or more outfits.

Social and economic circumstances affect how and when individuals claim membership and whether their claim is encouraged or rejected. Interpersonal tensions, perceived social advantages, or personal ties of loyalty all come into play.

Key members of two outfits may make competing claims to individuals. As an example, a prominent member of one outfit offered the following explanation of her deteriorating relationship with a younger woman:

She belongs to our outfit, her mom and my dad are cousins, but she hangs around that other outfit. Her daughter, she's married to one of them now.

10 Because the term outfit has an obscure origin and broad, ambiguous usage, it is difficult to relate it precisely to traditional classification of kin groups. To a large measure, it resembles the Algatcho sadeku. "the extended family unit of siblings and their descendants ... held together by bonds of common economic and social interests" (Goldman 1940:354) and the Tl 'azt 'enne snatneku, which

is a flexible category, especially beyond susnaten. or those defined as close relatives, and associations between kin in this category depend on a range of events and personal preferences (Hudson 1983:187).

208 She went on to suggest that this woman was no longer contributing to the work of her own outfit. Instead, along with her daughters she had joined another daughter's in-laws for salmon fishing. In a similar vein, another women explained tensions between herself and a younger man whom she had helped rear. She said that while she could count on this man's brothers "to be one of us," she could not rely on him or his sister; they had "gone over to that other lot."

Low status individuals align and realign themselves with prominent outfits according to their economic and social circumstances. In so doing they may expose themselves to criticism. An elderly woman who has no close resident kin said that she was seen to "hang onto" a particularly prominent woman and to be "tied into that outfit" for her own personal gain.

Because of its flexible composition, determining an outfit's boundaries is problematic.11 People can readily identify outfits by the family name and can name key members, but they cannot define their boundaries as easily. When asked directly to pinpoint a membership, individuals may either provide a description of the same unit they had identified as an extended family or reiterate traditional categories of close and distant kin. One woman remarked, "They [outfit and extended family] are the same thing really." She went on to say, however, "That other outfit keeps bringing people in who don't really belong [to the family]."

11 Hudson notes that exchanges between domestic production units "defines, in part, the various kin groups" of Tl'azt'enne society and goes on to argue that social ties are "diffuse, and one cannot readily isolate kin-exchange groups in advance of actual exchanges" (1983:162).

209 During periods of conflict or political contestation, however, boundaries emerge more clearly. Since conflicts in the community are commonly perceived to be conflicts between competitive outfits, community members identify groups who "stick together" as opposed to the "ones that go against each other." Outfits that dominate community affairs are often referred to as political "factions,"12 the ones that are

"always being political" or that "just go out for themselves."13

Despite the lack of precision of the term outfit and the inherent difficulties in pinpointing boundaries between putative outfits and extended families, it is useful to employ the term to describe social groups that expand beyond identified extended families. Identification of individuals and families as outfit members helps chart a social map and provides indications of political alliances and competition.

I use the term outfit, therefore, to designate a social group comprising the extended families of a set of siblings. Its members share a common group identity, express political loyalty to the group, recognize the leadership of members of the senior generation, and exchange goods and services. The outfit may include unrelated and otherwise isolated individuals or families with whom it shares resources

12 Reserve residents often use the term "faction" interchangeably with "outfit." Anthropologists have advanced several operational definitions of faction. The definition that applies best to the circumstances of Saik'uz is "a primary, face-to- face group, governed by informal discussion, mutual observation, and long-standing, many-sided familiarity" (P. Friedrich 1965a:198 quoted in Friedrich 1969:254-255).

13 Social groups with similar characteristics are common among native peoples. Lynch describes a similar organization, "bunches," among the Northern Paiute (1986:354-355 n.5), and Larsen notes that the Micmac refer to "families," "cliques," or "factions" which do not get along (1983:76).

210 and develops sentiments of friendship and loyalty.14

Since people grant primacy to members descending from a referent, apical

male, I call the adult, resident members who make these claims of descent through

either parent and who interact routinely with one another the "primary" members of

an outfit. Primary members and their spouses form the "core" of the outfits. On the

whole, they tend to live in residential clusters, to act on behalf of other members, and

to claim priority in the distribution of economic resources. I use the label "focal"

women or "focal" men for the senior (founding) generation. As we shall see below,

interaction within the outfit revolves around the focal women of the senior generation

who provide the group's leadership.

Not all potential primary members remain on the reserve or retain active

involvement in the outfit. Married couples are free to form close associations with the

outfit of either spouse or to participate to some extent in both. Overlapping affiliation

makes identification of a core membership difficult, and designating some couples as

core members of one outfit or another is necessarily somewhat arbitrary. Individuals

or couples are considered to be core members of the group with which they mainly

associate and from which they gain the most economic or social benefits. In some

instances, as will be illustrated below, even this distinction is unclear, particularly in the case of young married couples or where couples must balance obligations to the

14 The outfit is comparable to the snatneku of the Stuart Lake Carrier, which according to Hudson "is structurally similar to a bilateral kindred," which "provide[s] optional bases of association and exchange, ... "(1983:162).

211 parents of one spouse while preferring and benefitting from association with the other spouse's kin.

In addition to the primary members and their spouses, there are "peripheral"

members who claim membership on the basis of kinship, affinity, friendship, or common economic interests with a core member. The relative position and economic advantages of the peripheral members are shaped by their relationships with core

members, in particular, focal women. Depending on the administrative competence of the core, the outfit will expand or shrink. Members reorient themselves following internal conflicts, when resources dwindle, or when greater advantages can be gained through a new affiliation.

Peripheral members are recruited and retained in a number of ways, several of which rely more heavily on women's domestic obligations and economic activities than on men's. These include responsibility to raise motherless children, which can lead to lifetime ties of affection and obligation between the adoptive mother, the adoptees, and, in time, the adoptees' own children.15 As we shall see, adoption by single and widowed women has extended membership in several outfits. By sharing domestic provisions, women can create ties of gratitude and obligation and, thus, either retain members or gain new ones. Similarly, women who organize task

15 Here I am employing the vernacular use of adoption, namely to indicate the social relationship between a women who undertakes primary care of children when their own mother is deceased or when she is incapable of raising them. Both practices are referred to as adoption and appropriate kin terms are employed. Adoption practices, quite obviously, do not conform to the rigid definitions of state practice.

212 groups, in particular salmon fishing, are in a position to bind peripheral members to the outfit. Women also are responsible for allocating any available vacant houses held by core members. For example, as families vacate old houses for new ones, women select new occupants for the vacated home. Often the older homes are small and without the amenities of the new home, full cooking or bathroom facilities, for example. Women collect rents, if any are charged, and are responsible for maintaining harmonious relations between the two households, particularly if the secondary household must rely on the other for the amenities it lacks. The other side of the coin is, of course, that women can exclude individuals by withholding any of these assets from them.

Sibling sets and their descendants do not necessarily cohere into outfits.

Most extended families either lack the resources necessary to attract peripheral members or fail to establish common economic and political interests with other extended families to whom they are related. Marginal families of little status have few opportunities to affiliate with existing outfits. This may change when community conflicts cause some outfits to seek new alliances. These frail affiliations, however, do not result in enduring bonds.

Domestic resources are not pooled and then reallocated by the focal women, as they are within an extended family that, for example, has common storage of processed fish, berries, and meat. Rather, they are exchanged; their circulation is

213 characterized by generalized reciprocity (Sahlins 1972:193-4).16 The outfit per se

holds no common property; however, members gain access to property held by one another, particularly that held by core members. This property may consist of a trapline registered as a "company" line, which may not have any immediate financial value; of reserve land used routinely by women for gathering berries and other plants; or of lake and salmon fishing sites utilized by the women, which are most likely referred to as senior women's fishing sites.17

Other property that is held by core members and to which common access is assumed may include fishing equipment and smokehouses, located at the senior women's home, or reserve property held by certificate of possession. Services and domestic provisions are perceived to be the outfit's common property either because kinship ties endow rights to it, or because claims are advanced on the basis of pooled labour and personal ties. While the core of the Saik'uz outfit has little tangible property to guard, it does, as we will see, defend common political and social

16 Mooney (1985), advances the same argument for Coast Salish inter• household exchanges. See Harris (1984) for a critique of Sahlins's conception of the domestic mode of production and distinction between inter- and intra- household relations.

17 Kobrinsky notes a similar pattern of resource ownership.

Nilkitkwa is similarly divided into preserves today and assigned to various families, and although sometimes these are registered (with the Provincial Department of Fisheries) in the names of men, they are worked by the women of the family (1973:35).

214 resources.

The organization of the outfits is best illustrated by providing capsule descriptions of those which the community recognizes as having high status and political influence. Four have been chosen: two of the four are reputed to be "the big shot outfits" who are "really important"; the other two, which have now declined in significance and size, are said to have once enjoyed a similar reputation. Each of the four did enjoy or does now enjoy economic prominence. Descent is from a line of notable forbears of the aboriginal Nulkiwoten and Tachickwoten who intermarried with families of like rank at Necoslie, Nadleh, and Cheslatta. During the nineteenth century, traders and missionaries recognized the prominent men of these families as chiefs, a practice perpetuated by the Indian Agency. The following discussion relates to selected descendants of four of these men, who are given the pseudonyms Adam,

Baptiste, Charles and Daniel.

It is beyond the scope of this study to offer a full account of the social affiliations of all members of the bilateral descent groups of these four referent males. Rather, the discussion is confined to the relationships between a set of siblings of the third descending generation and their own descendants. All members of this group who reside permanently on or near the reserve as well as those who visit during the salmon run or for extended periods of several months duration are shown on Chart 1. For purposes of this discussion, however, descendants of the set of siblings who permanently reside at great distance from the reserve and who visit the reserve very rarely are excluded. In the discussion following, the exclusion of

215 Chart 1 Selected Descendants of the Referent Males and their Spouses

Adftn' * D**ctncf*ntf

u.b.iT^-p^i^^'^Ju^rri

D3jfl

L_~ I

1 g^g^ •gfHT^r

Baptiste's Descendants 9 Lillian" , Bl

12 l»n BH »BT 5* B7^

4/ B32 b: I 65A B23 B22 B21

B»lh C27 0 A 'X_-_—J C Karl» s

C4 C5 ft20 JC6 C7 C6 1 C9 LlP—I _ JC11_J 0A6A6A A cSZ "ii"66 """ 6 A §

<5X

Dl2 D14 D7 D8 Die M.4JDJ1 113 D3 M>

H <£0 Deceased prec ise pos i1 ion in Daniels OulfH unknown: Marr i age does no I appear wilh Marriage Dissolved Daniel's Descendants Adop I ion Noris t alus

216 Chart 2 Core Members of the Four Outfits

0^,

A8 A7 A6 A5 D5 A4 « fll3 fllTTll 15 A16^ Al?

A9 C13 A10

iste

Baptists Outfi t

Li 11 ianI—,—lEJ ^ 1.1 i i «• i' I i mar ion ® AA6oa 6 6 $.66$.6 6 A A A

~. i ^ 4«.-. $01 * ICkarles Charles Outfi*

Jennw I

A20C6 CiB Cll

Dan i e I s Ou I f i I

0^ 0^0q#

Die AiTEIl

Oyer Iapp i ng (Affiliation with A dans and Char les Ou tf i ts

Cverl&ppins Affiliation with Daniels and Adaws Outfits

Overlapping Affi I iat ion-with Charles and Baptiste Outfits

217 Chart 3 The Four Outfits with Third and Fourth Generations and Peripheral Members

Hdans Outfit

2^jQ, A66A

HjO Clt«29 |_

1_

0 ^jpiitt«

EaplIsle OjlfII

Q 4 i LillisnT— Si ^

5 T$4 B8~TT>"

' Bli 66A S37 638 B23 B22 B21

B«lh C27

Cha-Us Culfii

1 cJs i_Tcn cie cu c>« C22 C2X—3 ^

Djnirls Outfit

gffi Ouerlsppina ftffi list ion ulth Charles Outfit

Oyer I app t ng A f f i I i a t i on with Dun i

4 Remained with Outfit after Marriage Dissolved Left Outfit after Mirringe Dissolved

218 descendants is noted and reasons are given for their exclusion from the chart.

The selected descendants of the referent males are assigned identifying letters

and numbers; the letters A,B,C, and D indicate descent from the referent males,

Adam, Baptiste, Charles and Daniel. Where there is intermarriage between the

selected kin groups, the children of the marriage appear just once, with their father's

kin (that is, according to their patronym). The only reason for this is to maintain clarity

on the charts.

The boundaries of the bilateral kindred are not congruent with those of the

outfit as is illustrated in Charts 1 to 3. Chart 1 shows the selected descendants of the

referent males and their spouses; Chart 2 identifies the core members of the outfits.

Comparison of Charts 1 and 2 shows that only male members of the senior generation of descendants remain as core members of the outfits. For example, the sibling set descended from Adam includes one sister (A2) who is shown on Chart

2 with her deceased husband (C2) as a core member of the Charles outfit. Similarly, in the Charles descent group, the only sister (C3) of the senior generation does not appear as a core member of the outfit. The only sister of the focal men of the

Baptiste outfit lives at another reserve where, by marriage, she is a band member, therefore she does not appear on the charts. The three sisters of the Daniel sibling set do not appear on the charts; they are all deceased; two left the reserve upon marriage, the other had no children. Chart 2 also illustrates the social affiliations of the children of the senior generation. In this generation, women remain with their brothers as core members of their natal outfits.

219 Overlapping affiliations are shown on Charts 2 and 3. For example, comparing core and peripheral members of the Adams and Charles outfits reveals that the widow (C13) of one of Isabelle's sons (A9), primarily associates with her husband's kin but also retains an affiliation with her natal group. Similarly, Jenny's son and his wife (C6, A20) are core members of the Charles outfit and also peripheral members of the Adams outfit. One married couple (B11, C27) has dual membership in the

Baptiste outfit (as core members) and in the Charles outfit. One married couple

(A14, D11) retains very strong associations with both spouses' kin; they appear as core members of the Adams and Daniel outfits. There is one other couple (A4, D5) with overlapping affiliation in the Adams and Daniels outfits.

Comparison of Charts 1 and 3 shows that whereas the Adams outfit has attracted peripheral members beyond Adam's descendants and their spouses, the

Charles outfit has not expanded beyond its core membership. The Baptiste outfit has gained only four members (appearing as Lillian's adopted children). The following description of the social relationships within the four outfits illustrates the significance of women's domestic and social responsibilities in shaping outfit membership.

ii) The Adams Outfit

The core of "the Adams outfit" consists of an elder male (A1), his wife, "Isabelle," his deceased brother's widow, "Frances," and the adult children and their spouses residing on the reserve-a total of sixteen primary members and thirteen spouses of whom sixteen are women and thirteen are men (Chart 2). Isabelle's husband (A1) is the son's son of Adam, a former dveecho and church chief. Isabelle and her

220 husband share a large home with a fluctuating number of grandchildren and the

mother of a son's children. The sons and daughters remaining on the reserve live

nearby with their spouses and some of their children and grandchildren. The closest

neighbours to this kinship cluster are additional core members of this outfit. Frances shares a home with a daughter's daughter (A47) and several foster children.18 Other daughters live adjacent to her. Two of the three (A17, A16) live with their husbands and young children, the third (A15) lives with her young adult sons. Three women formerly married to sons of Isabelle (see A4, A10) remain affiliated with the Adamses.

Isabelle has fifteen grand-daughters and an adopted daughter. Frances has eight grand-daughters and two foster daughters. This compares to twelve grandsons for

Isabelle and seven grandsons and one foster son for Frances.

The women of each extended family share the responsibility of subsistence food production. Isabelle will set nets either at Nadleh or at a fishing site on the Nechako that is located within the registered trapping lands of her step-father (Map 4 Site 3).

(In the past, Frances has also fished there. Now both women are more likely to set their nets at Nadleh because it is closer to their homes.) Working with their daughters and grand-daughters, and on rare occasions with men of their families, they net, smoke, and dry sufficient salmon for a year's consumption, not only for their own families but for extradomestic distribution as well.

18 I use "foster" children and "adopted" children interchangeably with respect to Frances. Since she receives a guardian's allowance from the band council to cover their care, they may be deemed foster children in the eyes of the community however, Frances has adopted them.

221 Site 1 Charles Outfit's Fishing Site Site 2 Adams Outfit's Fishing Site Site 3 Adams Outfit's Fishing Site Site 4 Communal Fishing Site

Map 4 Fishing Sites Utilized by Women of Saik 'uz Economic relations within the core membership of the Adams outfit and between

the core families and peripheral members are asymmetrical. The core families cannot

function as two discrete units; while Isabelle's extended family has several able men

to supply game, Frances's must rely on just one-a son-in-law (D11) with obligations

to his natal outfit. Since Isabelle's extended family has a greater number of regularly

employed members, it has advantages not shared by Frances or her children.

Isabelle and Frances co-operate with respect to the exchange of goods and

services. They lend cash to each other and to members of the other's extended ~

family. They also share the stored food accumulated by their task groups with

peripheral members and allocate its distribution beyond their outfit. They call upon the services of members of each other's extended families as needed, most

particularly assistance from young adults or adolescents.

Over the years, Isabelle and Frances have assumed primary responsibility for a number of orphaned children, now adults, who are closely attached to Isabelle. As

Chart 3 shows, they include adult grandchildren of Frances's deceased husband

(who were in fact raised by Isabelle) and the orphaned children of Frances's cousin,19 shown as Frances's adopted children. Denise, who was reared by Isabelle, remains a member of the outfit (she is known as a "sister" to Isabelle's own children).

Denise's sister rarely associates with the Adamses and cannot be considered to be

19 The precise kin relationship between Frances and her cousin is not certain; both lost parents early in 1981 and they may, in fact, be "cousins" because they were reared for awhile by the same couple.

223 a member.

Adelle (A3),20 Frances's step-daughter, who is only a few years younger than

Frances, maintains close social and economic ties to both Isabelle and Frances. In the past, Adelle's husband worked on Isabelle's ranch, and he still shares game meat with Isabelle and Frances. Adelle lives at the lake shore where she nets fish year round and raises chickens and rabbits. She sells eggs, fur, and meat, or exchanges them with her step-mother and Isabelle for other foods and skins for beadwork.

Adelle also raises several of her daughters' children, for which she receives a regular income from the band administration. Adelle often works on cultural and language programs provided by the council or by independently acquired government grants.

Less central, but still important to the Adams outfit, are two smaller families that are headed by women. Hannah,21 an elderly nonstatus widow, has close social but no kinship ties to Isabelle. Without these personal ties, Hannah would be isolated from the reserve community. Not only is she without status and co-residential kin other than young nonstatus grand-daughters, she has no claim to reserve property.

Moreover, she lives at a considerable distance from her closest neighbours. Hannah is no longer able to produce handicrafts or other saleable goods and relies primarily

20 Adelle has five living daughters (each with children) and a son (with no children) who do not appear on the chart of descendants. During the research period, they did not sustain social interaction with their mother's kin. They are excluded from Chart 1 since Adelle is not central to the outfit.

21 Since Hannah does not have direct kinship ties to focal members of the outfit, neither she nor her grand-daughters appear on the chart.

224 on fish to supplement her inadequate cash income. She has no sons or grandsons to hunt and is, therefore, dependent on the Adamses for game meat. Nevertheless, because of her personal support of Isabelle and Frances and because of the surplus fish that she shares with the younger adults of their extended families, she is an important member.

Chart 3 illustrates the kinship ties between Isabelle and peripheral members.

They include Isabelle's step-father's brother, who is nonstatus and who resides on property adjacent to the reserve, his son, two daughters-in-law, and a grandson and his wife, all residing on the reserve. Agnes, also an elderly woman, was orphaned in 1918 and has no close kin. Her husband, however, is the nephew (BS) of

Isabelle's step-father. Common economic interests link her to Isabelle and Frances.

Like Adelle, she lives at the lake shore and fishes year round. She also raises chickens, sells eggs and meat, and trades trout and whitefish with Isabelle and

Frances for other foods or for dressed moose hides. She, too, works part-time on language and cultural programs.

Another important member is Isabelle's cousin (MBS) who transferred his band membership to Saik'uz from another Carrier band. He lives on Isabelle's property and shares in the labour of her family, cutting wood, maintaining the house and yard, etc. A young woman raised by Isabelle remains in the outfit and her non-

Indian husband frequently provides personal services for Isabelle. Chart 3 shows four female peripheral members and six male peripheral members affiliated with Isabelle.

Despite the high unemployment on the reserve, the two core Adams families

225 collectively boast of five regularly employed males, a fluctuating number of temporarily employed young men (grandsons), four regularly employed women, a store owner

(female), and irregularly employed grand-daughters.. Frances and Isabelle provide additional income from their pensions, from Frances's widow's allowances, from handicrafts, sales and from child care payments. Of the five employed males, one is a white son-in-law employed by the band council. Adelle and Agnes routinely benefit from short term, part-time cultural projects.

iii) The Baptiste Outfit

Like the Adams outfit, the Baptiste outfit comprises two extended families: the first with thirteen core members includes the father and his wife, "Lillian," and their adult children; the second, has six core members, "Marion," the widowed mother, and her five single children (Chart 2).22 Women outnumber men among core members, twelve women but only seven men. None of the daughters is married. On Chart 3 we see that there are sixteen grand-daughters and eight grandsons, and two women and two men affiliated with Lillian, who had raised them.

Marion earns a regular, part-time salary as the school janitor and one son works sporadically on short term jobs on the reserve. The others are unemployed.

Lillian's family, with six resident daughters and three sons, has four fully employed daughters and one son. The other two sons are dependent upon marginal seasonal

22 Each focal woman has a nonstatus daughter who resides permanently at some distance, therefore neither woman, nor her children, appear on the charts. Lillian's daughter, however, will send one or two of her own children to fish each summer.

226 labour. Two daughters are unemployed. During the summer season, adult grand•

daughters are employed on youth grant projects.

This outfit differs from the Adams outfit in two significant ways. First, the two

Baptiste extended families retain a higher degree of economic autonomy, although

one is considerably poorer than the other. Second, the spatial arrangement of

households differs. In the case of Lillian's family, oniy two daughters with their

children have homes adjacent to the mother while a third daughter and her child live

in the parents' home. Three other daughters and the one married son have homes

at some distance from their parents and from each other. Marion's family shares two

small adjacent homes across the creek from the parental home of the first family.

Like Isabelle and Frances Adams, the two eldest Baptiste women are routinely

responsible for the primary care of a number of grandchildren. When Lillian's eldest

son (B8) ended his marriage (his wife (D19) later married a member of the Adams

group), his children remained living with Lillian. She shares primary child care with

the children's maternal grandmother who is Marion's sister. Marion has assumed

guardianship of two daughters' children and receives a monthly income for their care.

Lillian, like Frances and Isabelle, raised a number of motherless children, now

parents themselves, who maintain close social and economic ties. Just as the

adopted children of Isabelle and Frances are incorporated into task groups or are

permitted use of fishing equipment, so, too, are those reared by Lillian. These

younger women and men turn to Lillian for personal assistance; when Lillian is able to do so, she hires them for jobs created by the voluntary association of which she

227 is president. As shown on Chart 3, Lillian holds onto four of these women and men as peripheral outfit members.23

Although they enjoy economic autonomy, Marion and Lillian sustain strong personal ties. Marion is a frequent visitor in Lillian's home. They confer on community matters and co-operate in raising funds for special community projects.

iv) The Charles Outfit

The Charles outfit also has two core extended family units descended from brothers and now headed by their two widows, now in their late eighties and not as active as the other outfits' leaders.

Jenny lives with two nonstatus daughters (C4, Chart 3) and several young grandchildren. Behind her home is an old vacant house that serves a temporary summer residence for other grandchildren. Jenny's son (C6) lives next door with his wife and ten children. None of the adult grandchildren has her/his own home on the reserve, nor were any permanent residents during the research period. Two other nonstatus daughters have left the reserve. As Chart 2 indicates, Jenny's son and his wife, Denise (C6, A20), have dual membership in the Charles and Adams outfits.

The extended family of Martha Charles (A2) has seven core members spread

23 I was unable to identify similar links between Lillian and anyone else at the time of research. Lillian did not include anyone but members of her extended family in task groups she organized, although she personally assisted other women with their fishing and loaned them equipment when they requested it. Nor was she currently engaged in job creation through her role as president of a voluntary association. Marion organized task groups that included her sister and some of her sister's daughters, all of whom were currently living off the reserve.

228 among four houses that are grouped together. The mother and single son share

one; each daughter has her own. Few of the adult grandchildren reside on the

reserve. One daughter (C10) irregularly shares her home with two adult children.

Two grand-daughters live elsewhere on the reserve with their husbands. The children of the youngest daughter (C11) are all nonstatus; they reside several hundred miles distant and have minimal family contact. In all, the outfit includes seven females and six males of the third generation.

Compared to the Adams and Baptiste outfits, the Charles outfit is a weak economic and political unit. Although Jenny has retained a salmon camp on the

Nechako (Map 4 Site 1), which she uses each year, her nonresident, nonstatus daughters do not regularly engage in salmon fishing. Hence, she is aided primarily by her son's wife (who also fishes with her own kin) and a few grandchildren. Her son does contribute game meat, but his major contribution is from cash earnings from steady employment.

Martha's extended family also has limited resources. Only the eldest daughter,

Alice, has had regular employment in the past. Presently, however, she works less frequently because of poor health. The son (C8) engages in neither wage labour nor subsistence work. Family members rely upon Alice's earnings when available, their mother's old age and disability pensions, and social assistance. Irregular labour of the other daughters and their husbands makes no appreciable difference to their economic well being, two daughters are eager to fish, but without their own equipment and transportation they can do so only when invited by work groups of

229 other outfits or when they are lent the necessary equipment. At one time they joined the other Charles families at the Nechako salmon camp; now they are more likely to fish at Nadleh with members of the Baptiste or Adams outfits. Game meat comes to them from men married into the family, however, these men also have obligations to their own kin.

The extended families of the Charles outfit are no longer tightly bound together by joint work groups or by reciprocal sharing of cash and surplus foods. Collective, use of fresh water fishing grounds ended some twenty-five or thirty years ago when conflicts eroded Jenny's association with other members of her husband's family.

Task groups have also been reduced; at one time they not only included Charles's descendants represented on Chart 1, but also other patrilineal kin of the two focal men who no longer retain close social or economic ties with core members of the outfit.

With the dissolution of these groups, members are now prone to seek independent economic relationships with personnel of the Adams and Baptiste outfits.

Overlapping affiliation results as second generation members incorporate themselves into the households and productive groups of their spouse's outfits. Jenny's son's wife, for example, works with her mother-in-law and with Isabelle Adams. From the latter she receives short term jobs in cultural and social programs directed by Isabelle and Frances. One of her sons (C16) recently married Isabelle's grand-daughter

(A30) and has joined his mother-in-law's household.

Martha Charles's daughters and grand-daughters are now affiliated with the

230 Baptiste outfit. Beth has married Lillian's son. Prior to obtaining her own home, Beth

and her husband lived with his sister. Beth shares in Lillian's fishing groups and

Beth's husband's game is divided between his mother and mother-in-law.

Occasionally Beth is employed as a home care worker; apart from providing services

to her grandmother she works for members of the Baptiste outfit. One of Martha's

daughters (C10) has married a cousin of Lillian (who Lillian helped rear) and now

turns to Lillian for personal assistance.24 Two of Martha's grand-daughters (C24,

C25) are engaged to marry members of the Baptiste outfit.

Peripheral members of the Charles outfit are attached to Alice who has forged

close links with the adult children of a nonresident cousin (C14), and has provided them with a temporary home on the reserve. They, however, are all young adults

living with Alice and their own mother. When living and working on (or near) the

reserve, they share their incomes with Alice, who, in return, cares for their children.

v) The Daniels Outfit25

The fourth outfit is an anomaly in comparison to the other three. Once the

24 As has been pointed out for the Navajo (Aberle 1981:6, citing Witherspoon 1975:108-10), the existence of ego-based networks of mutual assistance does not preclude the formation of kin-based social groups (see Lamphere 1977b for an analyses of co-operation among Navajo). Co-operation of outfit members, however, takes precedence over these ego-centric ties, particularly with respect to the exchange of domestic provisions and, as will be illustrated in Chapter 8, in times of conflict and political competition.

25 It was not possible to collect complete data on this outfit; two.of the three senior members refused to be interviewed, and the numbers of kin members who have left the reserve and who have lost status were not recorded.

231 largest, the most prominent, and one of the most prosperous outfits, the Danielses

now have little coherence as a discrete group. Significantly, this outfit consists of the

descendants of three brothers (all deceased) who were respected for their ascribed

status as dunezah and/or village chiefs, for their leadership abilities, and for their paid

labour. Their descendants living on the reserve today include only two male elders,

one married with adult children and adult grandchildren living nearby, the other widowed with only one adult son and one orphaned, teenaged grand-daughter. The widowed elder (D1) is somewhat isolated from his cousin and his family; he has his

own home that he intermittently shares with single, younger men. Chart 2 shows

nine women and ten men as its core members.

Today, only one older Daniels woman (wife of D4) is recognized as the head of an individual family unit. She can no longer engage in any subsistence labour; nor do her daughters form independent fishing groups, instead they work with their mothers-in-law. Furthermore only one of her son's families has a regular cash income; he (D11) has worked for twenty odd years for the provincial highways department, and the wife (A14) intermittently at part-time domestic jobs. As discussed above, the Daniels outfit has lost members through marriages with the

Adams outfit.

Like the Charles outfit, the Daniels outfit is a disadvantaged economic unit. Just one man has regular employment. Young men find seasonal work outside the reserve, but are less frequently employed on the reserve than their peers in the other three large outfits. A number of single men provide some game. Just one woman

232 contributes regularly to subsistence fishing, and none garden. Nor are any of the core women involved in providing foster child care, which would bring in additional revenue and increase of family status.

The Daniels outfit is more dispersed than the other three; four men have homes scattered about the reserve and beyond the village site itself. Several single and separated men have attached themselves to the Daniels outfit with whom they live. These men, however, are all unemployed and do not appear to make economic contributions to the outfit. Their presence does not seem to enhance the outfit's prestige.

Four features appear to account for the marginalization of the Daniels outfit: lack of focal women to direct subsistence production and distribution, high unemployment, the tendency of potential core members to affiliate with other outfits, and weak ties with potential peripheral members.

A few summarizing comments about the outfits will clarify their relative status.

Notwithstanding their shared claim to dunezah and skezah ancestry, the four outfits do not enjoy economic or political parity. The Daniels outfit has the least social and economic unity. Economic co-operation between the Charles families is weak, and, like the Daniels, the outfit's unity is undercut by members' affiliation with the Adamses and Baptistes. The Baptiste outfit is the second largest and has the largest set of female members with Indian status. Economic ties between the core extended families are not strong, but social ties are. Finally, the Adams outfit has both focal women organizing task groups. Its large peripheral membership is affiliated primarily

233 with Isabelle. Economic co-operation between the two extended families seems to be

stronger than that found in the other three units. The focal women organize co•

operative task groups and exchange subsistence goods with female peripheral

members with whom they retain strong personal ties.

Intermarriage between the four outfits is not frequent. The Adams and

Baptistes have not intermarried; however, both have members of the other two outfits

married to their own primary members. Intermarriage between either the Adams or

the Baptiste groups and the other two favour the Adams and Baptiste groups as they

incorporate the married couples into their own task groups.

While the women of the Adams and Baptiste outfits organize and supervise

collective work parties of junior and/or peripheral outfit members, the men of these

outfits do not. In fact, the male elders have no visible role in allocating shared resources or labour within these units. Rather, they provide individual support to junior members either by lending money from their old age pensions or by providing goods they have purchased independently. Younger men join together to share labour on cars and machines or to hunt. They are less likely, however,, to restrict these relationships to kin. On the contrary, they establish hunting partnerships and share mechanical interests with friends outside of their families and outfits, including white neighbours and employers.

Lack of historical data makes discussion of the developmental cycle of kin

234 groups impossible.26 At this time, the outfit membership appears to be influenced

by socio-economic circumstances that favour women. It seems that neither the

organization nor the nature of men's activities is presently the force for outfit unity.

Men do not have the same range of resources under their control as do women. In

fact, male production of food is rerouted through women. While outfits may have

initially cohered around male productive units, as described in Chapter 3, for the past thirty years men have suffered economic disadvantages vis-a-vis women. Hence, the

current female emphasis may have emerged as early as the 1960s when men were displaced from the labour force and today's senior generation came to rely on female earnings and unearned income.

It is difficult to predict when the current outfits will disintegrate or how they will reorganize themselves in the future. It is probable that this will occur either at the death of the women currently heading them or when the women's daughters take on the full responsibility. In all likelihood, they will remain female-centered for at least another generation. Without a significant economic transformation resulting in improved opportunities for men, male-centered groups are not likely to form.

Moreover, since the number of female-headed households is increasing, radical

26 Reconstruction of past social groups is also made difficult by the absence of a corporate estate. Aberle (1981) links the development cycle of Navajo coresidential kin groups to land division. He notes also that in the past land division tended to occur between sets of descendants of siblings. There may have been a similar process among Saik'uz Whut'enne with respect to traplines. Personal histories of resource use and DIAND trapline records provide some evidence of the subdivision of traplines in this fashion.

235 changes in marital patterns reverting back to stable unions would also be needed for men to assume a larger role in individual households and in the extended families that form the outfits' cores. It is reasonable to assume that current conditions which undercut male/female co-operation in domestic tasks and that alienate men from their children will persist, and, in consequence, intimate relations will continue to be conflict ridden.

Summary and Conclusions

In this chapter I have shown that domestic life is affected by the economics of welfare colonialism. Reliance on the state for housing and personal income has particular consequences for women and men. Women have economic advantages because they have steady access to unearned income that men do not. Reliance on unearned income has undercut men's family obligations alienating them from reproductive tasks. Marital relations are often brittle and tense. Hence, increasingly, women opt for their own homes and take control of domestic production.

Households are not self-sufficient; as they struggle to assist one another, women control essential domestic provisions and establish close personal relationships. Extended families cohere as a consequence of women's co-operative relations. The development cycle of outfits is shaped by a changing political economy and by women's and men's varying abilities to obtain and retain economic and social resources.

Welfare colonialism prevents sharp differentiation of domestic and community life. In the context of economic hardship, personal decisions such as sharing a house

236 or surplus foods take on a political dimension. Families and their extended organizations, the outfits, are seen as political units vying for such scarce resources as jobs and housing. In the next chapter, I turn4o the connections between the four outfits and the clan/potlatch system and women's voluntary associations.

237 CHAPTER SEVEN

SOCIAL ORGANIZATION AND COMMUNITY LIFE

Introduction

In the last chapter I described social affiliations of the core personnel of four, flexible social groups defined as outfits. I noted that two of the four are reputed by community members to be critical to the social and political processes of the community. To know if this is indeed the case it is necessary to identify the personnel's involvement in other central institutions of the community. Among the

Carrier, as with their western neighbours, potlatching publicizes social status.1

Therefore, I now provide a description of clan organization and the potlatch in order to establish the relationship between outfits and the status conferred by the clan/potlatch system. I discuss women's participation in and views of the potlatch.

I then turn to a discussion of women's voluntary associations and their executive personnel. I conclude the chapter with a brief comment on women's presence in community events.

The Clans

Saik'uz Whut'enne use interchangeable vernacular terms to identify their two

1 See Goldman (1941) for the Algatcho, Jenness (1943) and Kobrinsky (1973) for the Western Carrier, Adams (1973) for the Gitksan, Garfield (1939) for the coast Tsimshian.

238 matrilineal descent units: "clans," "sides," "parties," or "companies." The two clans take their names from the original settlements adjacent to Saik'uz: the Nulki Clan, which has the frog crest, and the Tachick Clan, which has the grouse crest. In the nineteenth century, if not earlier, the clan, de doh' ne.2 functioned as a corporate group. The clans' resource territories cut across the lands held by residential groups; clan leaders regulated access to clan resources. Food and skins collected for clan- based feasts and exchanges were expected to come from the clan territories.

Today, clans function as reciprocal exchange units that regulate funeral organization and marriages.3 Interclan exchanges take place when someone dies, when a tombstone is erected, and when individuals are admitted into the potlatch system. Clan members are divided into two categories: the uzunne.4 comprising the

"respected people" or "big shots," other descendants of entitled ancestors, and clan leaders, and the 'oh dune, commoners, frequently labelled "nobody persons," or

"scrap people." In the eyes of the uzunne. the 'oh dune are the ones the clan "takes

2 James Kari provided the following translation of de doh' ne. "clanspeople." It is derived from d ne. people, "but it implies a nominalized verb 'to be a people'." It appears to be a cognate of yidxwni of Takla Lake, and has not appeared previously in the literature on the Central Carrier (personal communication August 8, 1988).

3 While clan exogamy is an expressed ideal, it is not currently practised. When two members of one clan wish to marry, one transfers to the other clan.

4 "Respected man" is glossed as dunecho. and "big men" as dune unchane by Walker and Wilkinson (Walker et_aj. 1974:386).

239 care of; in other words, they are "pitied" for their secondary social status.

Responsibility for clan affairs is in the hands of the uzunne.

Membership in the Carrier matrilineal clan system is conferred automatically.

Everyone with matrilineal ties to Saik'uz is considered a member of her/his mother's

clan, but this does not accord the right to participate fully in the potlatch system.

Rather, "initiation," or "buying a seat," is necessary for full participation in the potlatch.

This involves an exchange of goods and money between the clans. The individual's

father's clan raises money and goods to "buy the seat." They are repaid by the

individual's own clan with gifts and monies of equal value along with additional

money and goods known as "interest." Once the individual taking the seat has

presented additional gifts and money to the clan-mates who "paid for the seat," she/he has the privilege of being seated at the potlatch and of participating in clan affairs.

Individuals who have not been formally installed in this manner may attend any potlatch, but normally only as observers. They are said to be "on the outside" or

"still standing," and that is exactly what they do: they stand in or near the entrance to the hall. Not everyone chooses to be admitted into the seating system. The majority of young adults are "still standing." According to some elders, if a person has not already been seated, she/he should do so when she/he marries. Non-

Carrier spouses are encouraged to join the clan/potlatch system. If they agree, the spouse's clan bears the expenses for the potlatch seat as it would for any member of the other clan. During the research period four women, but no young men were

240 seated.

Two options allow for flexibility in clan membership: a transfer or "adoption" into

one's father's clan or, very rarely, membership in both clans. Adoption by the

father's clan may be required to avoid marriage to a clan member. Adoption also

permits a member to select a successor from the other clan. The protocol for

adoption is explicit. The father's clan raises a "payout," gifts and money, to

compensate the other clan for losing a member. It also offers gifts of welcome to

the adoptee. Unlike many exchanges, the gift of compensation is not repaid. The

transfer of membership to the father's clan is also known as "crossing the table" to

sit on the other side of the hall.

Since adoption of a successor from the other clan requires raising a large

payment, only high ranking individuals are likely to pursue this course. Most

commonly, adoption is undertaken to permit a father/child succession, however,

adoption of grandchildren as heirs is also known. One middle-aged man, who was

installed as his father's successor, recalls that this cost his father one horse, a year's earnings, and all the money the son had saved for a motorcycle. Similarly, an

elderly man and his family bore considerable cost in order to establish his young

grand-daughter (daughter's) as his successor. During the research period, one women considered joining her father's clan because she wished to take her paternal

grandmother's Carrier title. She was hesitant to do so, however, because she and

her father would have to bear considerable expense for the adoption and because she worried that people would consider her pretentious.

241 Individuals with membership in both clans are called "double headers." After they

have taken a seat with their mother's clan, which proceeds as for any installation, the

father's clan presents a compensatory payment for adoption. In this case, however,

the mother's clan returns uhe payment with interest, that is it "buys back" its lost

member. This does not seem to be a common practice; Saik'uz has only one

double header, a woman of higher rank.

At Saik'uz, the number of potlatch seats is not finite. Nor is the privilege of

having a seat confined to individuals of high rank. Rather, it appears that anyone

who desires a seat will be granted one, providing the correct property exchanges take place. Saik'uz Whut'enne no longer strictly observe the formal rituals of the

past. Because of a very strong concern to attract younger community members and to instruct them in the meaning and etiquette of the potlatch, elders urge everyone to attend the potlatch-where they may be seated along side initiated members- and to contribute to their clan's accumulation of gifts and money when it hosts the potlatch.

In the past, social rank was demonstrated by the acquisition of titles and names that carried with them personal prerogatives: the right to wear a blanket decorated with the owner's and the owner's father's crests (similar to ones worn by coastal groups) and to own a personal drum, crests, songs, and dances. According to

Jenness, who provides the only figures ever gathered for Saik'uz, in 1924 there were two chief's titles in each clan and about 20 nobles of "varying grades, and some 150

242 commoners" (Jenness 143:586).5

Today, however, rank gradation of clan members is not defined so clearly, consequently comparable estimates cannot be made. Only one woman has taken a name and "wears a blanket." It is understood, however, that clan leaders, their successors, and the uzunne "are the most important" clan members. Although seating protocols are not rigidly followed, to a large measure the assignment of seats at the potlatch signifies relative social position. The clan leader always takes the central position. To her/his immediate right and left are members of the uzunne.

The remainder are seated in descending order to the ends of the bench.6 Flexibility in seating protocol coupled with the current lack of titles and Carrier names prevents accurate estimation of the ratio of uzunne and 'oh dune members. Moreover, flexibility leads to frequent disagreements concerning correct seating protocol.

Disputes concerning seating protocol are not unknown. Some recur regularly.

At a 1983 potlatch, an elder and her grand-daughter, who were accused of being

"nobody people," argued they had the right to a seat "close up" to the centre. The grand-daughter stated she had paid $400.00 for the "high seat" beside her grandmother. Although their position did not change at the subsequent three

5 It must be noted that these figures exceed the population estimates provided by the Department of Indian Affairs. According to their annual reports, total population of the band did not exceed 120 persons.

6 Seating protocol is similar, although not as rigid, to that found among the Carrier to the west (Jenness 1943; Kobrinsky 1973) and among the Gitksan (Adams 1973).

243 potlatches, members of the opposite clan persisted in their criticism of the two women's placement.

Rules for succession of clan leaders are not rigid. Elders say that matrilineal succession is preferred (a younger brother or sister's child, or if the leader is female, her daughter). Father-son succession, however, is also known, but apparently is less popular. Qualifications include high ranking ancestors, family status, and community-wide respect. Emphasis is placed on individual merit: sobriety, generosity, sensitivity, and language proficiency. A leader is free to choose her/his successor, but the uzunne should approve the choice.

For the past thirty years, clan leaders have been drawn from the four outfits described in this study. During this time period clan leadership has passed from the

Daniels to the Charles and now to the Adams and Baptiste outfits. Currently, Lillian

Baptiste and Isabelle's husband lead one clan, Frances Adams the other. Men of the Daniels outfit retain high rank, however, as is indicated by the fact that the two eldest men occupy seats near the centre of the bench.

Clan leadership is a ceremonial function. In keeping with a common understanding of past practices, clan leaders are responsible for harmony within and between the clans, for representing the clans at other Carrier villages, and for making funeral and potlatch arrangements. Among their other duties, the clan leaders act as prayer leaders and speakers at the potlatch. Women and men stress that the traditional responsibility of clan leaders was "looking after the people."

Frances and Lillian agree that the role of a clan leader is to set standards of

244 behaviour, to bring esteem and respect to the clan as a whole, and, above all, to

"look after the people when they have troubles."

Clan leaders do not appear to be able to fulfil the expectations community

members may hold. As several elders pointed out, the position no longer carries the authority it once had, therefore, leaders are unable to exert influence over the

community as a whole. Moreover, they argue, the authority of clan leaders has been

preempted by other forms of authority, notably the elected band council and

intervening agencies of the dominant society.

The Potlatch

Funeral organization is predicated on the dichotomy between the deceased's clan, mourners, and the other (father's) clan, workers, who provide services to the mourners and take charge of the burial. The deceased's father's clan receives gifts in return for services rendered at the time of death and again a year later at the tombstone raising. When a clan member dies, the "respected people" make the arrangements for the wake, a period of constant vigilance over the corpse, and for the funeral. They select workers from the other clan to dress the body, to provide sandwiches and tea at the wake, to convey news of the death, to dig the grave, etc.

The mourning clan invites the selected workers to a dinner and tells them why they have been invited and which jobs they will perform. Workers are invited in person; invitations extended over the phone are considered an insult.

The selection of the funeral workers clarifies family and individual status for the public. Ideally, only persons with a "good family background," that is, with traditional

245 high status, are chosen. "Nobody persons" and individuals who conduct themselves poorly are deemed unsuitable for the social prestige of funeral workers. According to traditional protocol, social rank should dictate the task to be performed; individuals of highest rank dig the grave, build the coffin cover (if one is used), and keep vigilance during the wake. Lower ranking individuals act as messengers or provide food for the wake.

The funeral potlatch, a solemn, modest gathering, is held six weeks to several months after the funeral, usually on a Sunday afternoon. Handbills announcing it are posted in public places two or three weeks in advance. On the day prior to the potlatch, a messenger appointed by the clan leader travels to each home to issue a personal invitation. On the day of the potlatch, the host clan gathers at the community hall with their contribution to the "payout" for the workers and members of the guest clan who witness the proceedings. Purchased foods and household items, such as linens or small appliances, are the preferred items. The hosts also bring large kettles of meat soup, pans of bannock, fresh oranges or apples, and in rare cases frozen or canned berries to serve the guest clan.

The guests arrive, each bringing a soup bowl, cup and spoon. The speaker of the host clan announces the guests, and the clan leader directs them to their seat.

Women are seated on a bench attached to the right wall of the building, the men are seated on the opposite bench. The workers are seated at the front of the hall with their backs to the stage. The hosts either gather with the bereaved in the centre of the hall, beside a large table loaded with the payout, or stand quietly at the

246 back, waiting to help with the distribution of the gifts and soup.

The potlatch opens with a prayer said by a member of the host clan and

speeches from the clan leader (on behalf of the bereaved). The host clan then

collects money to cover funeral expenses and to pay the workers. The immediate

family members and the uzunne provide the bulk of the gifts and monies paid to the

opposite clan. Often contributions are drawn from the deceased's own bank

account. When the deceased has high social status, members of his/her family

donate large amounts to indicate their deep mourning and the deceased's social

standing. As each donation is presented, the speaker announces the donor's name

and the sum of money. Contributions are said to "show respect." Amounts are

linked to the status of the donor and the deceased; they range from $1.00 offered

by children and teenagers to $75 given by high status adults. Only immediate family are likely to give higher amounts. Because of high funeral costs and the limited membership of the clans, members of the guest clan also make cash contributions towards the funeral expenses.

The money is sorted into two piles: the first reimburses the family for the funeral costs and hall rental (a nominal sum of $25), the second is paid out to the funeral workers. Only funeral workers receive a cash payment, which usually varies from

$200 to $500, according to the tasks performed. Messengers, for example, customarily receive smaller sums than the grave diggers.

A roll of white paper, "a tablecloth," is laid carefully before the seated guests' feet, and the gifts of purchased food are placed on it. As the deceased's family and

247 the hosts' clan leader allocate the goods, women, men, and even children distribute it. Gifts and cash payments are disproportionately allotted; the higher the guest's rank, the greater the gift. The recipients acknowledge their gifts with the words dy in lah. "it has happened."7 In the meantime, others of the host clan are in the kitchen heating the soup and making tea. This is served as the gifts are distributed.

The host clan do not eat with their guests; they will serve themselves later as they clear the hall.

Other transactions, such as the repayment of personal debts or the installation of new members in their seats, may take place after the host clan has paid the guests. Individuals may also pay friends for maintaining a grave site or for performing services honouring a deceased family member. For example, following the death of her mother, a woman of Nadleh "hired" two women of Saik'uz to hang her mother's pictures in the entrance hall of her home. She repaid them at a funeral potlatch.

When a tombstone is erected, commonly a year after the funeral, another potlatch is held. This may be less solemn than the funeral potlatch. Traditionally, the erection of the tombstone entailed a specific ritual, often referred to as "tug of war" to conclude the mourning period. As the tombstone was conveyed to the graveyard, the mourning clan symbolized their reluctance to end their grieving by

7 The term "dy in lah" is glossed by informants as "it has happened." They explain that making this response confirms the transaction witnessed by the guest clan.

248 pulling backwards on ropes attached to the tombstone. The workers dragged the

tombstone forward to encourage the mourners to "put aside" their grief. The

tombstone potlatch raises money to cover the costs of the tombstone and to pay

the workers for preparing the grave site and erecting the tombstone on it.

The tombstone potlatch is slightly more elaborate and more relaxed than the

funeral potlatch. In addition to soup and bannock, berries and other fruits will be

served. Stories of the deceased will be related, and clan songs and dances

enjoyed. Each year thereafter, the deceased's family will hire a worker to maintain the grave site. With the tombstone erected, the family has "wiped away its tears."

Social Status

Although clans cut across families and outfits ties and reach to other Carrier communities, the potlatch reinforces economic and social distinctions between family units. Through the practice of indumanek,8 the contributions of spouses to the opposite clan, the dual clan system accentuates rather than diminishes socio-economic differences between families. Because there are just two clans and spouses are of opposite clans, it seems not to matter which clan is hosting a potlatch. Except when being paid as funeral workers, either or both spouses are always in a position to contribute to the funeral expenses. This practice encourages family units to draw together. That is, if the wife's clan is host, then her husband,

8 Indumanek, is a term borrowed from Tsimshian; Adams renders it as andimhanaq, and gives its meaning as "contributions from all spouses of the House of the deceased except widows, widowers or those divorced (Adams 1973: 69).

249 who belongs to the receiving clan, may offer his wife a contribution. Hence, her

contribution is made larger, and the family gains prestige. The same situation

prevails when the husband's clan is host; the wife repays him for his earlier

assistance and his contribution is enhanced. Despite the practice of indumanek. spouses do not necessarily attend the same potlatches. In fact, while some women attend regularly, their husbands rarely do so. In this case, the women are seen as their family representatives, but their cash and food contributions may be acknowledged as personal donations.

While the potlatch now serves to exchange both money and store-purchased goods between clans, it does not result in generalized redistribution of goods throughout the community at large.9 Rather, the small number of persons hired regularly as funeral workers receive much larger payments of money, household goods, and purchased food than other participants. In turn, the same individuals confirm their status by making subsequent large payouts when their clan acts as hosts.

Failure of a family to hold the funeral potlatch brings strong social censure.

Clan support towards funeral expenses is not offered a family that has disregarded its obligations to pay funeral workers and to settle the deceased's debts. One such disgraced family was forced to dig a grave for its own dead and to provide all other funeral services. This evoked comments such as "I pity them" and "they shamed

9 A considerable portion of the money leaves the community, of course, in order to pay the expenses of embalming and the coffin.

250 themselves." In this case, the clan leader arranged a potlatch on behalf of the family

(some two years later) to "wipe out its shame" and to "bring it some respect" by

repaying its debt. A female elder provided the following explanation:

The whole clan is shamed when somebody doesn't pay back. Sometimes they can't do it on their own. I was embarrassed because I couldn't pay the return for my nephew's funeral. That other family, they didn't pay back for their father. That's why nobody dig the grave for them when [their sister] she died. They just left them to shame them.... This fall the whole clan will pay back all those debts. Make it good. The meeting was held, and that's what the women said. They said, "It's clan business and we gotta do something now." The women who look after this clan, that's who decided it would get done, right after all the kids are in school.

A description of two of the four potlatches held during the research period will

serve to illustrate the significance of social status and the importance of gender-

differentiated participation. The deceased were related: the first was a non-resident

band member, niece (sister's daughter) to the focal brothers of the Charles outfit;

the second was her uncle, the focal man of the outfit and former clan leader

(designated C15, C1 on Chart 1 p.216) Potlatch I attracted fewer guests and smaller

donations than Potlatch II. At Potlatch I, 22 members (16 women, 6 men) of the

guest clan were seated; 7 were workers. Thirty members (18 women, 12 men) of

the host clan were present with 5 women, all matrilineal kin to the deceased

• gathered at the centre table with the clan leaders. The workers included 2 members

of the Adams outfit, 2 members of the Baptiste outfit, 1 member of the Charles outfit

and 2 other workers (Chart 4). Including the people coming and going at the

251 Chart 4 Workers at Potlatch I

«d»MS OutfI I

ftsnes

JFrances 1 I J^Ane^ Jos I ° A55AI M/

Bapt iste OuIf It 03 r—Q A LillianL— Mar i on

65A •^55A

Charles Oulf it 14

9^ 9 I .—J M=MkAl— "6 5X6

Funeral Workers

252 entrance, attendance was approximately 120. The following goods were distributed

among the guests and workers: 274 loaves of bread, 270 cans of soup, 300 cans

of evaporated milk, 200 two kilogram packages of sugar, 36 packages of instant

noodles, and 12 packages of crackers. Isabelle Adams, Frances Adams, and

Hannah received 5 two-kilogram packages of sugar, 4 cans of food, and 4 loaves

of bread in addition to that given to the other guests. The workers were given 15

two-kilogram packages of sugar, 10 cans of food, 6 loaves of bread and 2 large

packages of soda crackers more than the others.

A total of $2093 was collected. The workers received the following amounts: three messengers (one from the Adams outfit) $220 each, the mourners (Beth and

Marion Baptiste) $291 and $300 respectively, the coffin maker (Lillian Baptiste's husband) $291, the grave digger (Isabelle Adams's eldest son) $425. The balance went to the family for funeral costs. Family members of the deceased raised $1693.

The largest donations of $50 came from the Baptiste and Adams outfit. All other contributions were $20 or under. Children and a few adults from the standing observers (who were greeted with gentle laughter) contributed $2.00.

Several violations of protocol occurred. The host clan were distressed by the unexpected absence of the guest clan's leader, the early departure of a worker to participate in a ball game, and the absence of members of the Adams outfit. The host clan drew grandchildren of the absent members from the standing crowd at the door "to sit down for their mothers." Despite their absence, the Adams received gifts in excess of those given to the other guests.

253 Potlatch II was a much larger affair than Potlatch I. Twenty-eight members of the

guest clan were seated: 20 women, 8 men. Also seated were 3 women from Nadleh,

2 from Necoslie, and 4 men and 3 women from Shelly. Thirty-three members of the

host clan were present, 18 women, 15 men. The host clan leader was joined at the

central table by the deceased's widow, son and daughter-in-law, 3 daughters and

1 son-in-law, and 15 grandchildren. Including the group standing at the door, close

to 200 were in attendance. Chart 5 identifies the workers from the four outfits. Of

the 12 funeral workers, 4 were from the Adams outfit, 3 from the Baptiste outfit, and

2 from the Daniels outfit. Of the remaining funeral workers, 2 came from Nadleh

and 1 from a Saik'uz family. The goods distributed consisted of: 470 loaves of

bread, 124 cans of fruit, 144 cans of vegetables, 144 cans of soup, 48 cans of

evaporated milk, 72 packages of kraft dinner, 48 packages of instant noodles, 10

litres of pop, 25 five-pound packages of sugar, 11 ten-pound packages of sugar, 11 twenty-five pound packages of sugar, 24 cans of apple juice, 20 dozen eggs, and

34 packages of crackers and cookies. As in the first potlatch, the distribution was

not even; workers received more than other guests, namely the eggs, large

packages of sugar, pop, apple juice, and on average 12 cans of food.

The family of the deceased contributed $5290: the widow and the deceased

$1000 each, the son $600, the daughters $500, $150 and $140 respectively, and the grandchildren the balance in sums ranging from $20 to $500. An additional

$720 was collected from the general assembly (including several standing adults and young children who donated under $5.00). Apart from the donation of Nadleh

254 Chart 5 Funeral.Workers at Potlatch II

a dim Ouin t

S9nes

El aline. Ins

III

Ise,

\l/ A~6~6~

AA6> S6 65666AAAXA

3apt iste Oulfi t

.—O Li I Man I , 1 6 ^5" AA A66 66A 166 A I—JBeth

Dan ie Is Oulf i t 04

Funeral Workers

* Funeral Worker nof having Potlatch Seat

255 and Shelley guests, the Adamses, Baptistes, and Danielses gave the largest

donations of $25 - $100.

The workers were paid $540 except for one worker from Saik'uz, an elderly

woman whose family has little status. She received $100 for staying awake with

the body. Isabelle Adams and her son received $50 each for services given during

the deceased's illness. The remainder went to the cost of the tombstone, the dance

hall, and to the grandchildren's travel costs to the funeral and potlatch. The

deceased had paid for his own funeral.

The other two potlatches observed followed patterns similar to these two,

although the goods and monies collected were considerably less than for the

described potlatches ($1200 and $1432). In both cases the deceased were young

adults who had resided sporadically on the reserve. Neither of their families have

strongly developed ties with the four outfits. Nonetheless, the funeral workers were

primarily from three outfits: Adams, Baptiste, and Charles. Apart from family

contributions, the largest donations came from the Adams and Baptiste outfits.

These were.however, on average $20, slightly less generous than recorded for the two potlatches described.

Gender

Currently, more women attend the funeral balhats than do men. Total attendance for women at the four potlatches was 181, for men 105 (Table 8). According to some women of the uzunne, more women than men hold potlatch

256 Table 8

Balhats Attendance by Clan and Sex

Date of Balhats Attendance at Balhats

Tachik Clan Nulki Clan Both Clans Female Male Female Male Female Male

04/12/83 20 10 17 16 37 26 19/01/84 15 7 16 10 31 17 14/04/84 16 6 18 12 34 18 27/05/84 20 8 18 15 38 23 24/06/84 23 6 18 15 41 21

Total 94 37 87 68 181 105

Source: Field notes

257 seats, but due to the flexibility of actual practices this could not be substantiated.10

Chart 6, however, does show that this gender difference exists within three outfits

(sufficient data could not be gathered for the fourth). All women and men of the first generation hold potlatch seats. In the second generation this is not the case.

Two of Isabelle's daughters have not taken seats (and were not seen at the potlatches), nor have two of her sons. Her family is well represented, however, since several of her seated children's spouses have also been installed, including a nonstatus husband. Frances has two daughters seated; her other daughters and their husbands and son appear not to participate at all. Thirteen potlatch seats are held by Isabelle's and Frances's immediate families: nine women, four men. An additional ten members, six women, four men, of the Adams outfit also hold seats, as is shown on Chart 6.

Marion's family is not well represented. One son is seated (although he was not seen at potlatches during the research period, his mother made substantial cash contributions in his name), the others show no interest in doing so. Lillian's sons do not engage in the potlatching activities and say they have no interest in it.

Her daughters are divided; three are seated, the rest are not.11 Her eldest

10 Data on the potlatch are not complete. Counts of the total number of potlatch seats were not taken during the research. The following data are derived from interviews with core members of the outfits and from observations recorded at four funeral potlatches.

11 My data on the daughters of this family are incomplete. I noted, however, that only three daughters were seated at the observed potlatches, the others were either absent or standing at the doorway.

258 Chart 6 Holders of Potlatch Seats by Outfit

Ad&MJ OutfIt

Agnes

IFranees I

1/ 1 I l< 1 55Ai A6£a>£a> AA5AA36 1 Denlsei

Nora

Baptiste Outfit

Charles Outfit 0_$

Jenny' T Martha 6 6Eb

Holders Of Potlatch Seats

Clan 1

Clan 2

v? Clan no) Represented at S.a I k'uz

259 daughter is "respected" and participates in clan decision making. The younger women who are not seated, however, speak of doing so in the future and are seen among the crowd of onlookers during the potlatch. They also encourage the attendance of their daughters, reminding the girls that they can look forward to carrying on the tradition in the future. In total, six women and two men of the

Baptiste outfit currently are seated. (This total excludes Beth, who is counted in her natal outfit since she succeeds her mother's father).

The Charles outfit is represented at the potlatch as well. Both of the widows hold seats and are among those who make clan decisions. Few of the children, however, participate regularly. Of the nine natal members of the second generation only two, one woman and one man, are seated. They are joined by the son's wife.

Only one member of the third generation is seated. Beth, Alice's daughter, was installed as Alice's father's successor. She is the youngest person to occupy a high ranking seat at the potlatch, to be included among the "respected people," and to be hired as a funeral worker. The Charles outfit has six women and one man seated.

As Chart 6 shows, few of the third generation hold potlatch seats. This is not surprising since there is a tendency not to formally install young members. Of the four young women who took seats in the research period, who ranged in age from eighteen to twenty-four years, three were members of the Adams outfit: one was raised by Isabelle, two were Frances's foster daughters., In these outfits no man of this generation is seated.

260 A few highly respected older women of Adams outfit use the ritualized payout to maintain a balance of debt payments and services on an individual basis. Hannah, who does not have high status ancestry, participates in these exchanges thus validating her relationships with Isabelle and Frances. Not surprisingly, it is these same women, always prominent in guiding clan business, who contribute the costs of sponsoring members who take seats. During the research period, no other women or men paid out private debts in this fashion.

The clan/potlatch complex is particularly important to nonstatus women. Through their clan involvement, nonstatus women and their husbands can be incorporated into their community on the same basis as their status kin. For example, the nonstatus daughters and grand-daughters of Hannah and Isabelle regularly attend potlatches. Hannah's eldest grand-daughter paid $400 to the opposite clan to secure her seat next to her grandmother. Isabelle's two nonstatus daughters sit beside her at the potlatch.

Women offer a variety of explanations for the lower attendance of men. One elder is highly critical of young men. She maintained that in general they were

"ignorant" and "running around without any respect." She has little support for her opinion among her peers, who, while invariably lamenting the men's apparent disinterest, refrain from holding them entirely accountable. Another elder, taking exception to the first's critical perspective, argued that the men were not at fault.

She blamed state prohibition of the potlatch, which ended in 1951, for forcing the potlatch "underground" and residential schooling for making "[her] people

261 embarrassed about the Indian way." She went on to suggest that, while young

Carrier men are currently ill informed about the potlatch, she expects that they will turn to it with the recognition of self-government. A third woman contended that men are prone to withdraw from community life because of the frustrations of unemployment and personal conflicts. She maintained that young men rely on the elders rather than learning for themselves.

Whatever their reasons, the young men of Saik'uz do not appear to differ a great deal from their peers elsewhere. For example, a large potlatch held at Necoslie in the spring of 1984 attracted more elderly participants and more middle-aged women than men of the same generation. The only representatives from Saik'uz were a few elders. Adams (1973:15) observed a similar disinterest among Gitksan men two decades earlier. He, however, also noted that with maturity and a rise in political status men became champions of the potlatch system.

When asked for their own views on female clan leadership, women responded with two explanations. While agreeing that women have held these positions less frequently than men, they point out that leadership is not necessarily a "man's job."

Women, they note, are also clan leaders in the Carrier bands to the west. As previously mentioned (p.178), they also see clan leadership as an extension of women's particular responsibility for social harmony. Lillian scorns those who question whether a woman should take on these roles.

... Who do you think looks after our own people on the reserve? That's what it means to be a clan leader. That's what women do all the time. Women know who needs help and what to do.

262 Women's commitment to the clan/potlatch system extends beyond the

responsibilities of the uzunne. Saik'uz Whut'enne view the clan/potlatch system as

their traditional "government" and, along with the other Carrier bands, the band has

proposed that any form of future self-government be consistent with its organization,

its functional principles, and its fundamental ethos of "taking care of the people."

There is, therefore, a compelling need to revitalize past practices and to ensure that

the community as a whole understands the principles and duties of leadership it

embodies. In 1984, The Elders' Sacred Circle, a voluntary association, sponsored a

series of workshops on the relationship between the potlatch and Indian self-

government. (In the same year, the Carrier Sekani Tribal council instituted an annual

gathering for all its members bands with the same goal in mind). The association

received state funds to hire two women to organize the workshops and to cover travelling expenses and honoraria for the elders (from several bands) who would

lead it.

The workshops attracted participants from Shelley, Necoslie, and Nadleh. As with the potlatch, more women than men of Saik'uz attended. The same gender

division was evident among teenagers. The workshops consisted of instructional

speeches from the elders and the community leaders, "penny potlatches" conducted

by children, traditional music, dancing, and games, and discussions about preparing

a future generation of leaders. It would be unfair to suggest that any of these

issues are more important to women than to men, despite the differences in their participation in the potlatch and the workshops. It is possible, however, that

263 women's pre-eminence at the potlatch reflects their traditional supportive and nurturing roles: like their ancestral grandmothers, women are committed to transmitting their culture to the future generations. At the same time, women assume greater responsibility for the underlying work involved in perpetuating the clan/potlatch system, whether it is shopping and cooking for the potlatch or organizing instructional workshops.

Clans and Outfits12

Given the understanding that the clan/potlatch complex constituted "the government" of the precontact era and the Carrier's determination that it should provide the institutional base for future self-government, it is important to consider the relationship between the outfits, which are seen as politically competitive units, and the clans, which are not. Speaking of the Stuart Lake Carrier, Hudson states,

t Matrilineal descent cannot be taken as the blueprint of Carrier society; the jural dimensions of clans are limited, and represent only one component in a larger social structure ... the distinctions made between kin by clans are just that - divisions between related people for ceremonial and reciprocal exchange purposes. The descent system gives form to exchange obligations ... but does not function as relations of production (Hudson 1983:195).

His statement applies equally well to the Saik'uz. Here, also, clans currently function as ceremonial exchange groups, not as productive units. Since clans at Saik'uz

12 It is beyond the scope of this study to offer a full analysis of the relationships between kin-based outfits and the clans, since the data are limited. It must be borne in mind, moreover, that the situation of Saik'uz is not representative of other Central Carrier communities since it has only two clans and since it claims to have suffered greater disruptions in its practices than other communities have.

264 cross-cut outfit membership, lack jural authority, and lack control over material

resources (other than money and goods voluntarily presented for funeral and

tombstone potlatches), they appear not to constitute competitive political units.

It must be said, however, that the majority of members of the Adams and

Baptiste outfits are, in fact, predominantly affiliated with one clan. The current outfit

composition, however, is influenced by the number of primary members without

spouses or with spouses who have not taken potlatch seats. Without either a more

equitable balance between primary members and spouses or a series of clan

adoptions within an outfit, core membership will be disproportionably composed of

members of the mother's clan.

Referring again to Chart 6, we see that the Adams outfit has only twenty-three

members seated: fifteen members in Clan One and eight seated in Clan Two. The

Baptiste outfits has fewer members seated, a total of seven with six in Clan Two and

one in Clan One. Marion is not a member of clan two having been seated in a clan

not represented at Saik'uz. She, however, joins Clan Two for all potlatches at

Saik'uz. The Charles outfit is more evenly divided in its potlatch seats; three

members hold seats in Clan One, four members in Clan Two. One of the founding

brothers transferred to his father's clan and each of the brothers has adopted a

successor from the opposite clan.

The significance of clan affiliation with respect to interoutfit competition is not

clear and merits further study. Without getting ahead of the argument of following chapters, it needs to be noted that clan affiliation and succession to clan leadership

265 do not appear as subjects of contention or dispute within the community as a whole. That is, although a leading outfit may be identified as a "faction" or a "bunch that run everything," clans are not described as competing units. Moreover, according to elders of Saik'uz and Nadleh, at the turn of the century Saik'uz

Whut'enne gave into pressure from the church and state to dispense with the clan/potlatch system. While the "potlatch went underground but stayed alive" in

Nadleh, to the extent that succession to names and titles has been continuous, it is said that at Saik'uz "it disappeared for a long time" and "the names are empty."13

Notwithstanding disagreement over past events, today Saik'uz Whut'enne view the clan/potlatch system as central to Carrier identity and to their future self- government. With the revitalization of the clan/potlatch system, moreover, individuals who have used other routes to attain prominence in the community may legitimate their position through the clan system. Lillian and Frances, for example, recognize the present jural limits of clan leadership, but both equate their clan leadership to other forms of leadership, all of which are regarded as "looking after the people."

As Lillian says,

It's all the same thing, really. You have to have the respect of

13 These quotes are taken from discussions ensuing at the potlatch workshops described above. Some disagreements arose between Nadleh and Saik'uz_over the protocol of succession to titles, and these were aired in the Vanderhoof newspaper. Members of the Nadleh band maintained that titles and names could only be acquired by birthright, while Saik'uz elders suggested that names were obtained through potlatching and demonstrated leadership abilities. There appeared, however, to be a general agreement that at Saik'uz the clan/potlatch system suffered greater disruptions than elsewhere.

266 the people. You have to look after them if you want to be a leader. That's what I do. I've been chief, I've been president [of the Native Mothers] and I'm the clan leader. It's the same thing; you speak out for your people and you lead them; make things right for them. You don't just sit back and say nothing. I have a gift to speak, that's why I'm a leader. I speak for my people.

Her views are not dissimilar to Frances's:

The clan used to be into everything, to look after everybody's business. A clan leader is respected if he [sic] looks after our people. But now it's harder. Young people don't have the same respect for the clans. So we do our business some new ways. The Elders are into everything now; they try to help out. I'm president of the Elders and head of my clan. It's special to be clan leader ... not everybody can do it. They've got to know what you can do. You've got to get respect for what you do on the reserve.

Voluntary Associations

The important roles that women play in their outfits and clans extends to their

involvement in voluntary associations. Unlike the men on the reserve, who have no social organizations apart from sport teams, women have formed a number of voluntary associations to deal with domestic concerns that have political consequences: domestic relations, employment, health, social service needs, community facilities, alcohol and drug abuse, child apprehension, and education, to name the most pressing.

Three associations are active on the reserve: The Native Mothers' Guild, The

Elders' Sacred Circle, and the White Spruce Society.14 Not only does each organization plan programs and solicit money for the reserve, but each has its own

4 All names of associations are fictitious.

267 networks to regional and provincial umbrella associations that lobby the provincial

and federal governments. Additionally, several women are members of intercultural

environmental associations.

Through their reserve-based organizations, women struggle to improve the

quality of reserve life. Their common strategy is to obtain funds from several federal

government agencies for small-scale development projects and cultural programmes.

Women's organizations also organize workshops on domestic and health issues.

The formal structure of these organizations conforms to the government's

requirements for nonprofit societies. Each has an executive and advisory board.

Membership lists identify only the executive members a few others. Dues and other

requirements for membership eligibility are not strictly enforced, allowing membership

to be highly flexible. Women are attracted to the organizations when a specific

political issue needs addressing or when the executive members solicit supporters for their community service projects, such as fund raising for church or educational

activities.

The Native Mothers' Guild, the oldest of the three associations, has been active

at Saik'uz for forty-five years. It was organized and funded by DIAND for the

narrowly defined purposes of providing a forum to improve women's homemaking skills and understanding of public health issues and to raise community funds. The organization has chapters in all the western provinces. In its early years, two annual conferences were funded by DIAND: a provincial meeting in Vancouver, and an interprovincial meeting held in centres in the prairie provinces.

268 Over the past twenty years, The Native Mothers' Guild has received state funds

for a number of small building projects and for summer youth employment.

Currently, it raises funds for the new church and uses state funds to create youth

employment. It also organizes benefit dinners and relief funds for families facing

crises such as house fires.

The Elders' Sacred Circle, organized ten years ago, receives financial support

from the federal government and the band for a variety of cultural activities primarily

aimed at youngsters and adolescents. In co-operation with the band administration, this society runs an alternate school for adolescents experiencing difficulty with the

public school. In addition to a half day program of basic studies, the school offers an afternoon class of Carrier language and culture (taught by Adelle and Isabelle's

-son-in-law). The society also runs an annual summer cultural camp for young people. Currently it is building a community cultural and educational centre.

Working with state agencies, the society obtains funds to sponsor youth programmes aimed at preventing and/or correcting drug and alcohol abuse. These funds are used to hire a number of temporary part-time workers for the advancement of Indian culture. The youth dance group, workshops, and language programmes are all staffed by one to three employees who are paid a salary slightly above the provincial minimum wage. Further funds are raised for travel expenses of elders and youths who attend tribal and pantribal cultural events.

The Elders' Sacred Circle views itself as representative of all elders and community interests and is pleased to include male members. Nonetheless, its

269 executive membership is limited to three families. Moreover, its active, elder

members are all women. The only men engaged in decision making are two

younger men, one who acts as manager, and the other, who is a drug and alcohol

counsellor.

The White Spruce Society is only five years old. Unlike the other two, this

association draws its membership from three communities: the white, nonstatus, and reserve populations. Its mandate is to create jobs for persons with employment

handicaps, a category which includes, indeed emphasizes, the needs of young, unskilled reserve residents. In its capacity as a job creation agency, White Spruce seeks strong ties with the reserve leaders. To date, the White Spruce Society has been able to offer little economic benefit-a handful of needed and highly appreciated youth jobs for the unskilled (forestry work, tree planting, tree thinning, etc.) and even fewer supervisory or clerical positions. However, negotiations for economic projects between the Elders' Sacred Circle and White Spruce Society do appear to offer options that otherwise would be closed. As this dissertation is being written, the two societies, acting independently of the band council and on behalf of

Saik'uz, have jointly called for feasibility studies on a number of small farming projects and are soliciting state support for small-scale industry. If they are successful, these women will offer employment opportunities and provide much needed services to the community.

In short, membership in voluntary associations provides women with opportunities to gain and redistribute money within their associations as well as to

270 members of their families and outfits. Although this process is not functionally

limited to women, there are no associations or voluntary societies with active male

membership.15 Consequently, it is women, not men, who are associated with

income generating strategies and with the development of community services.

Just as the clans are led by women of the Baptiste and Adams outfits, so are the voluntary associations. Lillian Baptiste, her daughters, and her sister-in-law, Marion, form the executive of the Native Mothers' Guild. Frances Adams is the president of the Elders' Sacred Circle, and Isabelle, her daughter, and Hannah are also executive members. The White Spruce society, which is primarily concerned with generating employment, has a larger membership than the other two. It includes nonstatus executive members and nonnative advisors. Executive members from the reserve are distant kin and friends to Isabelle Adams and are generally identified as members of the Adams outfit. Hannah and two of her grand-daughters are on the executive.

Lillian, Marion, Frances, and Isabelle were among the Native Mothers' Guilds' first members, and each has served on its executive at various times. As executive members, they addressed their persistent concerns for the economic and social improvements their community desperately needed. They attended the annual

15 It is not unusual to find women predominant in service clubs and voluntary associations. For example, Lynch notes that a survey of ten Nevada reservations revealed that women are the vast majority in tribal council committees and service clubs (1986:353). A similar situation obtains among the Sioux (Albers 1983; Powers 1986).

271 conferences and were elected to the provincial executive. Over the years, Lillian and

Frances have acted as spokespersons for the association, locally and nationally.

Public Events

The central role women play in their own households, outfits, clans, and voluntary associations carries into community meetings and celebrations. Women's personal autonomy and earned esteem is reflected in their attendance at public meetings where they are as likely as men to speak on behalf of their extended families.

Women and men speak out in public and one opinion is not given precedence over the other. During the research period, three general band meetings were called; at each women outnumbered men despite the fact that there are more male residents.

When two generations from one household or extended family were present, the eldest woman spoke on behalf of the younger family members. Unless asked to do so, the younger women did not speak about matters their mothers had addressed.

Women enhance their personal reputations for generosity through their participation in public events. Women are prominent at community festivities, cultural events, fund-raising dinners, etc. Women are primarily responsible for arranging these occasions and for providing whatever is necessary for their success. The prestige of these events is tied to the contributions women make. Not surprisingly, women from the leading two outfits are routinely acknowledged for their contributions to community suppers. Adelle, Agnes, Hannah, Isabelle, Frances and their daughters are always visible at public events and generous in their donations of food and traditional handicrafts (which are sold to raise money for community

272 projects or presented as gifts to special guests). The Baptistes are represented by

Lillian, Marion, and Lillian's daughters, whose generosity and hard work are equally evident.

Women who enjoy less social esteem are also prominent and openly generous at these events. As women mature and command greater personal resources, they become more visible at public gatherings. Agnes, who has led a particularly difficult and very impoverished life, is a case in point. She routinely provides surplus salmon and trout to the community dinners. She donates handicraft items for church raffles and food and surplus goods for families confronting domestic emergencies. She, too, is present at community meetings, where she represents her adult daughters' households as well as her own, and offers her time to community projects.

Nonstatus women and nonresident band members also take the opportunity to demonstrate their generosity. They, too, donate food and gift items and join the other women in the kitchen to prepare the community feasts. The community holds frequent raffles and community dinners to raise money for special projects. Not only do these women contribute many of the raffle prizes, traditional or contemporary handicrafts, they also sell the tickets and buy tickets in large numbers themselves.

A third group of women is also prominent at public occasions and in fund raising.

These are the elderly and the disabled, who share their pensions through purchasing foods for the feasts or through supporting the many raffles.

Of course, men also attend community functions and support fund raising. Men

273 are the auctioneers and master of ceremonies at community celebrations. They are

as eager as women to purchase raffle tickets and to bid high prices when goods

are auctioned in other attempts at fund raising. Although the men are generous, they are less prominent; the esteem derived from donating food and handicrafts is

primarily awarded to the women who do the work.

Summary and Conclusions

In this chapter I have described the organization and functions of the clan/potlatch system and the voluntary associations. Examination of the clan/potlatch system revealed the social importance of the four outfits described in the preceding chapter. Core members of these outfits enjoy high social rank as demonstrated by their presence as funeral workers, by their generous potlatch contributions, and by their central position in the seating order. Leadership of the clans has passed from the Daniels and Charles outfits to focal members of the

Adams and Baptiste outfits. Of the three clan leaders two are women, Lillian

Baptiste and Frances Adams.

Women attend the potlatch in greater numbers than men. In the four outfits more women than men have been installed as clan members. It follows, therefore, that the clan system, even if unintentionally, reinforces the social prestige of women.

Women's ideological and social significance is also reinforced whenever clan membership is highlighted. Each potlatch or other clan function enhances and celebrates anew the principle of matrilineal descent and the salience of identity with one's "mother and her people."

274 A wide range of public events also provides women with the opportunity to gain

prestige; women earn respect and a reputation for generosity when they contribute to community feasts, donate handicrafts to fund-raising events, and present gifts to

honoured visitors. The activities and micro-development projects of women's voluntary associations also enhance the prestige of women, in particular female

leaders. Executive membership of the voluntary associations overlaps with clan

leadership. Lillian leads the Native Mothers' Guild; Isabelle and Frances Adams

head the Elders' Sacred Circle.

In sum, the two outfits identified by the community as the "most important" are headed by women who lead the clans, dominate potlatch exchanges, and direct the voluntary associations. This raises two critical questions: How do these women affect the political process of their community? And, what is the significance of women's voluntary association in the political process?

275 CHAPTER EIGHT

WOMEN AND THE POLITICAL PROCESS

Introduction

The basic problem with respect to examining women's political strategies is one of charting the positions of women within a flexible decision-making system. We need to know which positions of power women occupy and how these positions enhance women's ability to influence the lives of others. We also need to know which women have access to positions of power and how they are related to men who also hold these positions. In this chapter I analyze how women organize to influence public decision making and how they obtain and retain elected and appointed office. I raise a number of questions: (1) Who holds positions of power?

(2) In what ways do external forces and internal value structures constrain women's political participation? (3) What is the significance of women's voluntary associations as a sphere of political influence? (4) What is the relationship between voluntary associations and the formal political structure? (5) How do women's political strategies compare to those of men? And, (6) How do women affect men's political options?

To understand political processes, it is necessary to identify who participates in politics and their relationships as leaders and followers. Hence, the political process is analyzed within Bailey's paradigm of political games: a competition

276 between evenly matched teams that struggle for the same scarce goals and rewards

(see above 20-21).

Positions of Power and Powerful People1

Positions of authority delegated by the state are limited to elected office in the

band council, currently four councillors and a chief councillor (referred to hereafter

as chief). The electoral provisions of Section 75 of the Indian Act stipulate that

resident band members over 21 constitute the electorate and are eligible for office

as councillors.2 From 1954 to 1984, 67.8 per cent (19 of 28) of the elected

personnel belonged to the Adams and Baptiste outfits. They held 75 per cent (46

of 62) of the positions (Table 9). As Table 9 shows, 10 members of the Adams

outfit held 22 elected seats; 9 members of the Baptiste outfit held 24 seats; 9 other

1 As stated in Chapter 1, use of the concept of power has sparked endless debates concerning its precise usage and its distinction from related concepts, namely, authority, influence and control. In the following discussion, authority refers to the designated positions and their functions within the political structure established by that state. Influence and control are dimensions of power as I have defined it (page 24): influence entails the capacity to affect decision-making; control not only recognizes the defined role and activities of persons of authority, it emphasizes their ability to plan future events, and to assert the rights over and responsibilities for crucial material and nonmaterial resources. Rigid distinctions between these aspects of power are incompatible with the flexibility of social reality. As well, use of influence to evoke notions of manipulation of the powerful by the powerless is not satisfactory, especially in the analysis of gender relations. As others have pointed out, this leads to stereotypes of scheming, manipulative women seeking to undermine or benefit from powerful male kin (see Lamphere 1973 and Rosaldo 1974 for contrasting views).

2 The same criteria do not apply to the position of chief. Presumably, a nonmember may be chief. This has never occurred at Saik'uz. One woman did unsuccessfully contest an election while in the process of being reinstated as a member of the band following her divorce from a status Indian of another band.

277 Table 9

Number of Positions Held by Elected Personnel 1954-1983

Number of Positions by Outfit and Gender

Number of Positions Adams Baptiste Charles Daniels All Total Total Held 1954-83 Outfit Outfit Outfit Outfit Others Female Male Total F M F M F M F M F M

1 2 1 1 1 - 4 3 6 9

2 1 3 1 2 1 - 2 - 1 2 9 11

3 - 1 1 1 1 2

4 - 2 - 2 - - 1 - - 5 CL

5 - - 1 - - - - i - - 1 - 1

Total No. of Persons 3 7 4 5 1 - 3 - 5 7 21 28 Total No. of Positions1 4 18 11 13 2 - 8 - 6 15 47 62

1. Total number of positions is derived by multiplying row (gender) by column (number of positions) and summing the product. For example, the total of 4 positions = (2x1) + (1x2).

Source: Records of Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development

278 persons held 16 seats. Only 25 per cent (7 of 28) of the office holders have been

women; they have held 24 per cent (15 of 62) of the positions in the elected council

(Table 9).3 In sum, members of the Adams and Baptiste outfits held the majority of

elected positions. Women of these groups, however, have held far fewer seats than

have their male kin.

Several factors account for the fact that fewer women than men have held

elected office. First, fewer female than male band members reside on the reserve.4

Second, because of discriminatory provisions of the Indian Act, prior to 1952, women

could neither cast ballots nor hold elected office. Third, the Indian Act requires that

a married women be a member of her husband's band unless a majority of her

band approve her husband's application to transfer his band membership.

Divorcees and widows are transferred from their husbands' to their natal band only

upon the same terms. At least seven women of Saik'uz married into the band;5 one

man and his family transferred their membership following conflicts in their natal

band; and two men transferred their membership upon marriage. One of these two

3 Given the flexibility of social relations, it is not possible to calculate the percentage of the electorate represented by these groups over the past thirty years. Census data and band lists, however, indicate that it was likely less then 50 per cent.

4 The imbalance of male and female adult residents over thirty years of age appears to be an established pattern. Several informants stated that women are more likely to move to nearby residential centres. DIAND reported 63 male residents as opposed to 37 female residents of this age group in 1976. The higher rate of female migration is consistent with national trends.

5 Data on all women over thirty years of age are not complete, there may be more in this category.

279 is deceased; the other rejoined his natal band following divorce. Women who have

married into the band share the view that their position as "newcomers" or

"outsiders" prevents them from contesting elected office.

Isabelle Adams has only one daughter eligible for office. Until 1980, however,

the daughter was a member of her former husband's band. Isabelle has been

elected councillor twice; two of her three eligible daughters-in-law have been elected

for a term in by-elections. The Baptiste outfit has enjoyed greater female

representation. Lillian has been elected five times, once as chief. Three of her six

eligible daughters have also been councillors (Chart 7). The sons of Marion and

Lillian are all under thirty years of age, and only one has been elected: at twenty-

six he was the youngest person ever chosen as chief. It is interesting to note that,

with a single exception, if husbands have held office, their wives have not, and vice

versa. In fact, Isabelle's husband made a single effort to be elected as a councillor,

in 1954, and lost.6 Lillian's husband has never run for office whereas both his

brothers had been elected chiefs. Marion has never sought office although her

husband was elected four times, twice as chief.

No woman outside the elite core of the Adams and Baptiste outfits ever held

elected office; in fact, none has even attempted. Of the six daughters of the Charles

6 "• The fact that neither of the senior Adams brothers was elected is puzzling since their father and paternal grandfather were once village chiefs. They did, however, have two close associates in elected office in the 1950s when Isabelle was first elected. I have not included either of them in the Adams outfit, although one was said to be a cousin, because the precise relationships could not be clarified.

280 Chart 7 Elected Office Holders in Adams and Baptiste Outfits 1954-1983

flda«s Outfi t

Agnes 9£

Jfrances t ne Ins |h 1* JL^W lM I le 55Ai 40^ AA5AA55 1 Cenisei vl/ A^ 0oAp<^A A6_A6_A 64 AA6^fe<55oo 5A6 66663AA1ZA

Baptiste OulfiI 03 i—®H A k Lillian!—. 1 Mar ion

oA AAA A56 56 65A "A^p "Z65A Beth

* has Pol latch Seal

Elected Counci I lor

Elected Chief

281 outfits just one has consistently been a band member; all the others either became

nonstatus or members of other bands by marriage.. In the past three years, two of

the women have remarried into their natal band, but neither has been active in

community affairs.

Bearing in mind that the husbands of the focal women are either deceased

or are not directly engaged in political activities, the data suggest that ties to the

focal women may be central to men's political success. Of the seven men elected

from the Adams outfit, four have one degree of consanguineal or one affinal link to the focal women. The remaining three are not so closely related. One is Isabelle's

deceased step-father's nephew; he, his wife, and his aunt have been employed by the Sacred Circle. The second is brother to Isabelle's former daughter-in-law. The third is married to Isabelle's foster daughter; she, too, has been employed by the

Sacred Circle. Within the Baptiste outfit, all elected men have one degree of linkage: one son, two sons-in-law, one brother-in-law, and one husband.

Men who are not members of either the Adams or Baptiste outfit are less secure in office. The Charles outfit has had one member elected for one term; the

Daniels outfit three: two for two terms, and one for four terms (Table 9). However, these men held positions in the first fifteen years under study, and have not done so since. Outside of the Adams and Baptiste men, no man has held office for two consecutive terms, four of the nine were elected just once, and only one has been elected four times.

Individuals outside the elite core appear to be vulnerable to discrediting

282 rumours. One young man felt forced to resign his council seat within a few weeks

of the election because of allegations of drug sales. A second was asked to leave

office after injuring his wife during a family dispute.

A third young man, who had distant kinship ties to both Isabelle and Lillian,

had similar experiences. He was hired by Isabelle to work on projects of the Elders'

Sacred Circle at the same time as his wife had a position as a home assistant to

Isabelle. About the same time, Lillian persuaded the administrative staff to give him

a good construction position. Feeling confident of wide support, he then expressed interest in the forthcoming election. Shortly afterwards he was rumoured to be selling marijuana and perhaps other drugs, and to be providing liquor to young children. Aspersions were cast against his abilities as father and husband. His name was entered on the election slate, but he received very few votes. Ultimately, he was dismissed by core members of both dominant outfits on the grounds that he was "not serious about the council's business" but was just trying .to get more money for the men's baseball team, on which he was a star player. These cases suggest that in their efforts to obtain office nonaligned persons are doubly jeopardized. They cannot proceed without sponsorship from the elite, but the elite feels threatened by the presence of capable, albeit loyal, followers who compete with them for office.

The relationship between potlatch positions and political position is not entirely clear from available data. As mentioned in Chapter 7, because titles and names that once designated rank are not currently assumed, a precise ranking of

283 individuals cannot be determined. The described seating patterns and succession

of leadership indicated, however, that members of the Adams, Baptiste, Charles, and

Daniels outfits are ranked high vis-a-vis other holders of potlatch seats. Among the

Adams and Baptistes, only four of the elected personnel are not seated at the

potlatch (Chart 7)7 Nevertheless, of the three men (now living) who have served

two terms as chief, only two are seated, but both say they do not attend potlatches

frequently. Neither served as funeral workers during the research period. It is

possible, however, that regular participation of some outfit members is sufficient to

establish recognition of its status within the potlatch system. This may have positive

consequences for kin who do not attend.

The elected council is not the lone decision-making body of the community.

Although the state holds the council accountable for fiscal management, within the

community the council shares responsibility for resource redistribution with its

appointed administrators and advisory committees. Unlike the two year tenure of

elected office, terms of office in appointed and parapolitical structures are not fixed.

Appointees may serve terms of at least five years. At the same time, nothing

prevents individuals from holding simultaneous positions on several committees.

Chart 8 identifies holders of appointed administrative office and advisory

committees in the Adams and Baptiste outfits. Between 1974 and 1983, twelve

women and eight men served on the council's advisory committees, and seven

7 This does not include the deceased or those who ended their outfit 'affiliation following dissolution of their marriages.

284 Chart 8 Appointed and Parapolitical Office Holders 1974-1983

AdkMS Outfit

Asnes

FI aline. Ins

M/ AdfI It

£X5AA~55 enisej £55

AT^oAAW525 ° 5X5 56565AAAZA Nor»

BaplIsle OutfIt

Be t h

Executive Parapolitical Office fippo in led Office

Advisory Cowittees Advisory Corwillees and Appointed Office

285 women but no men, were appointed to administrative office.

Executive leaders of voluntary associations, that is holders of parapolitical

office, are integral to the political process. Women have controlled these

organizations for the last four decades, even in the last few years where two new

associations have included male members. As stated in previous chapters,

leadership of the three organizations is divided between members of the Adams

and Baptiste outfits. As Chart 8 illustrates, four Baptiste women and four Adams women have held executive parapolitical office. Hannah, a peripheral member of the Adams outfit, has also held parapolitical office. No man has served in this capacity.

A tabulation of participation in appointed and parapolitical positions is presented in Table 10. The two leading outfits dominate; together they have had twenty-five members in these positions as compared to six from all other outfits.

Twice as many women as men of the leading outfits have held positions in the appointed and parapolitical structures: of the Adamses, ten women and five men, of the Baptistes seven women and three men. Whereas women tend to hold multiple office, men do not. Between 1974 and 1983, no man filled more than four positions in the appointed and parapolitical structure. Significantly, women who have held more than seven of these positions are all from these two outfits. In sum, women from the Adams and Baptiste outfits are pre-eminent in the advisory, administrative, and parapolitical offices.

A comparison of Tables 9 and 10 shows that the Adams and Baptiste outfits

286 Table 10

Multiple Office Holders 1973-1983

Number Of Positions by Outfit and Gender

Number of Positions Adams Baptiste All Total Total Held 1974-83 Outfit Outfit Others Female Male Total F M F M F M

1 1 3 1 1 - 2 2 6 8

2-4 4 2 3 2 2 2 9 6 15

5-7 2 - 1 - - - 3 - 3

More than 7 3 - 2 - - - 5 - 5

Total No. of Persons 10 5 7 3 2 4 19 12 31 Minimum Total No. of Positions1 40 7 26 5 4 6 50 18 68

1. Minimum total number of positions is derived by multiplying row (gender) by column (least number of positions) and summing the product. For example, minimum total positions of 40 = (1x1) + (4x2) + (2x5) + (3x7).

Source: Records of Stoney Creek Band Office. Recorded in field notes.

287 have dominated all decision-making offices. While men surpass women in elected

positions, women exceed men in all other decision-making positions. Moreover,

five of these women hold multiple positions in the nonelected offices. Two

implications follow. First, women's political strategies are more diverse than men's.

Second, given the discontinuity of elected office as a consequence of biannual

elections, women holding multiple advisory and parapolitical positions may be more

likely than men to exercise continuous public influence.

Closely related to political participation is access to employment on the

reserve. Women and men who hold elected and/or parapolitical office and men

and women related to them are employed by the council and voluntary associations.

Between 1982 and 1984, twelve of fifteen permanent employees of the band council

were members of the Adams and Baptiste outfits: nine Adamses, three Baptistes.

At least eight members of these outfits were temporary employees of the band

council.8 The Elders Sacred Circle temporarily employed a further twenty members

of the Adams outfit.

To the community at large, each outfit presents a united front as a team

committed to its leaders. Power relations within each outfit are, nevertheless,

asymmetrical and the nature of these imbalanced relationships affects each outfit's

political fortunes. Among the Adamses, Isabelle's family has enjoyed greater power

than that of her sister-in-law, Frances. Where Isabelle has seen a daughter

8 It was not possible to obtain a full account of all temporary employees for this period, therefore, comparisons cannot be made to other outfits.

288 appointed band manager and three sons make successful bids for council,

Frances's family has been represented on council only by her son-in-law, and only one of her daughters has held an administrative post. In some situations, Isabelle and Frances can activate the same links within their common outfit. In other respects, however, Isabelle is able to mobilize followers when Frances cannot.

Isabelle, for example, has closer working relations with her band-manager daughter than Frances enjoys with her elected son-in-law. Isabelle also has patronage ties to a greater number of persons. She has earned a reputation for providing jobs through her control over the Elders' Circle and through her ability to influence community funds designated by NNADAP. In some ways, then, Frances's extended family lives in the shadow of Isabelle's. Frances's family are indispensable to the outfit's economic and political fortunes, but they remain subordinate to the greater influence of Isabelle's. Isabelle's family, however, is highly dependent upon peripheral outfit members. Apart from Frances's son-in-law, the only other male with long• standing political success is tied to Isabelle, who raised his orphaned wife.

A parallel situation exists with the Baptistes. The extended family headed by

Lillian is clearly in a stronger position than her sister-in-law, Marion. Lillian has three daughters who have proven themselves as councillors and administrators. Her youngest daughter has the potential to do the same, and recently her youngest son has indicated an interest in community affairs. It is likely that he will someday secure an administrative position at the band office. In contrast, only one of Marion's five children has shown the interest in and potential for elected and appointed office.

289 Her youngest son has been one of the most popular chiefs, the youngest man to

be elected to that office. Marion has never contested administrative office, and she

is rarely asked to sit on council's advisory committees. She denies any aspirations to leadership, explaining that this was the role of her deceased husband, who was

hereditary chief. She also contends that she cannot compete in the political arena because Saik'uz is not her natal village. At present, Marion's son cannot mobilize a secure following independently of Lillian's family. He does utilize his personal relationships within the men's ball team, but the ball team is strictly a transactional following that can be as easily swayed towards the Adamses, whose members are also star players, managers and umpires.

In summation: Powerful people are descended from former leaders and families of high status and are members of the two contending outfits: they have dominated political positions for the past thirty years. Although men have held the majority of elected council seats, women have held the majority of other offices. The outfits' competition for elected seats has been almost evenly matched; they both obtained positions on council in the mid 1950s and have predominated vis-a-vis all other outfits. As can be expected, this competition for elected office generates tensions between the competitors. Nonetheless their relationships are not only ones of hostility or confrontation. Changing community circumstances and gender-based disputes alternately unite and divide members of these outfits. Oscillation between the need for unity and the unfolding of particular disputes has transformed the structure of the political system: women have organized voluntary associations and

290 in the process have created for themselves a power base connected to their

struggle for elected office but independent of the authority of the elected council.

The following discussion of the political structure is set within the context of the

emerging political pre-eminence of these two outfits. It begins with the events

leading up to women's entry into elected office and then turns to the consequences

of the growing tensions between the outfits.

The Political Units

i) The Voluntary Associations

Voluntary associations provide women with an ideal social base from which

to exert influence over the community. The particular nature of voluntary

associations allows women to promote issues immediate to family and community

needs in a way that men either do not wish to, or, because of their own lack of

organization, cannot. The development of The Native Mothers' Guild from its

inception in the 1940s, before women could contest elected office, until fractured

by political factionalism in 1978 illustrates this clearly. Initially, the association granted

priority to immediate family needs:

We thought we should look after our own on the reserve. Our motto is "for Home and Country." That's what we did, worked for home and country. Somebody got no curtains, we made curtains for them. Somebody got sick children, we made medicine, and we got into looking after them. It wasn't so political them days, it was just for the families right here.

As time passed, however, the guild found it could not meet these goals without political confrontation. In the 1950s, delegates from Saik'uz began lobbying the

291 federal government for essential community services.

We went to The Native Mothers' meetings wherever they happened. I spoke out for our dying babies. What could we do? Our elders were crawling through the snow to get to the outhouse. We fought for water and sewer. We had typhoid then, and T.B. too, it was taking our people. That's what the Native Mothers was for. All over, the Indian women got together to do something for their people.

Wherever the women presented their position, they spoke of themselves as mothers and grandmothers charged with a particular responsibility for community well being.

In their rhetoric and by their actions, women tied their public interventions directly to their domestic concerns. They were "speaking up" for their families.

The men weren't organized like the women. We could stand up to the band council. We spoke for the families and they had to listen. The trouble makers went against us but they couldn't go nowhere. We were all pulling together and then they had to listen. They [the council] didn't take on the department [DIAND]. It seems like they were waiting for the Native Mothers ... it was women's business to get ahead with the water and housing. That's why they call me a motor mouth. I spoke out when I had to. The men weren't speaking up in public, just talking to themselves. They didn't show no interest in getting to Ottawa. We sent petitions right there and our delegates to talk for us. The Native Mothers were doing the. business for the council.

Documents held by the Department of Indian Affairs confirm the success of

The Native Mothers' strategies. For two decades, 1950-1970, the Native Mothers'

Guild was active in all community efforts to improve living conditions and the delivery of better health services. In the 1970s letters sent to Saik'uz from the Regional

District Office of DIAND went out to The Native Mothers and to the Council. DIAND

292 held meetings with the Native Mothers' representatives to negotiate community demands for essential services.

The Native Mothers were now an autonomous political unit with a direct voice to state officials. At this juncture, The Native Mothers' Guild emerged as a subsystem of the formal political structure. Although they could influence council's actions and intervene between the council and the DIAND officials, they could not act independently of the band council. Nor, of course, could the council proceed independently of the Native Mothers on issues of mutual concern. Now, whether they held elected office or not, women were continuously at the forefront of community affairs. The leaders and their families gained public recognition, a fact which clearly benefited their male kin whose periods in office were often brief and disrupted by the biannual change of elected councillors.

Whether the women were truly disenchanted with an all male band council, as some now argue, or whether individuals merely wished to hold the elected offices newly opened to them, executive members of The Native Mothers sought elected office. Today, these women claim their motives stemmed from their traditional understanding of women's obligations, just as they assert that this understanding was the reason they formed The Native Mothers. By holding elected office, these women were making concentrated efforts to look after urgent human needs. As one member explained,

The council needs more women. They know the homes. They talk to more people, are more open. When I was chief she [Isabelle] was on my council. We tried to pull together for the families .... We. were in Native Mothers

293 together.

I went for council because the men weren't getting anywhere. They didn't fight for the families like a woman did. What about housing? And they weren't doing nothing about the T.B. and the typhoid.

On a more pragmatic level, it is clear that women as well as men were competing for the public affirmation of personal status through election to the council and the privileges and powers that go with that office. The Native Mothers' Guild provided women with three resources essential to public office: moral and contracted supporters, affirmation of their status as good providers, and proof of their willingness and ability to mediate between the state and the reserve population.

Hence, it is not surprising to find that the two women who sought office between

1954 and 1966 enjoyed strong popular support.

This was remarkable in two respects. First, women directly challenged the competence of the male dominated council on issues of moral accountability. They argued that council apathy and male indifference were responsible for the band's failure to obtain water and sewer systems. Second, their candidates represented two prominent Adams and Baptiste families. As Isabelle and Lillian were building their reputations as councillors, their children were entering adulthood. Lillian and Isabelle drew their oldest children into the political arena. While they were not elected to council, apparently because they were still too young, they were nominated for election, thus gaining popular attention.

As the political strategies of The Native Mothers' Guild matured, its sphere of

294 political influence increased. The Native Mothers turned to confrontational tactics in state negotiations. In the late 1960s, the highway that cuts through the village came under heavy use by large trucks. When the provincial government refused to pave within village limits, and rejected demands for monetary compensation, the band set up road blockades with female elders-symbolic figures of maternal concern and traditional wisdom-stationed at them. This action was supported, in principle and practice, by the band council, and involved persons of all ages and both genders.

As a political tactic, however, it was organized by the Native Mothers; they informed the governments of their intentions by letter and took credit for it in the media.

During the same period, The Native Mothers' Guild began to take advantage of government funding that would not be controlled by the band council. The guild obtained a variety of short-term funds for community building projects. This proved to be a double blessing; not only did the community acquire urgently needed facilities, these were built by reserve residents. A member recalls,

We got jobs for the men that way. They built our crafts centre and then we got the laundry mat. We could give the men jobs with our money.

The Native Mothers had found a new way of providing for family needs. They provided community facilities to be used primarily by women and children and they created desperately needed jobs for men. Women at the centre of The Native

Mothers' leadership were now in a position to establish patron/client relationships with junior men of their extended families, to recruit new members to their outfits, and to enhance their personal prestige and social position. Clearly, men were unable to

295 reciprocate. At this time, the council was not able to create jobs for women, and

due to their lack of formal organization, men had no access to government funding

for development projects.

Once the executive officers of the voluntary association established themselves

as patrons dispensing economic rewards through job creation, they transformed the

nature of political competition. On the one hand, the association constituted a team

of supporters to its executive; on the other, the executive directly challenged the

capacity of the band council to recruit a following and to control critical political

resources. While the association struggled against outside forces, amity prevailed.

But when executive members struggled to advance their personal and family

interests through management of the association's resources, rivalry resulted.

Elected offices, as we know, were created by non-Indian men to facilitate

negotiations with Indian men. Despite the fact that women of Saik'uz had always commanded important managerial roles in their society, some men objected to women's entry into council. In fact, some protested their election as early as 1958 by submitting a petition to the local Indian agent. They, however, represented the views of a small group unable to gain larger support. There is no record of open confrontation until the 1970s.

When Lillian was chief, the men "rebelled" against her authority. Resenting a woman giving orders, the men hired by the council for a construction job "went on strike." A dispute that appeared to have started over favouritism in hiring was soon

•transformed into a complaint that a woman was "taking over men's business."

296 Supported by the Native Mothers, the chief rose to the challenge and organized women Ao work on the hall roof. She recalls,

Then them guys quit on us, halfway. And the roofing was supposed to start. That morning they say, "We're on strike," they told me. Boy I ran around. I pick up all the women ... and we threw the shingles up on the roof. And we all had hammers. And we start to work. We must have had about six strips. Halfway we were....

And over they come. The women are busy hammering. About 3:30 somebody comes up. [He] comes up ... "Gee, we'll go back to work. We just get mad...." Part of that roofing the women did just to show we are able bodied too.

The council election of 1974 is another example. In this election, a man was the deputy electoral officer facilitating the nominations meeting prior to the election.

The nominations and election of that year were riddled with undisguised hostility between a handful of men and a larger number of women, whose social and political rights were represented by The Native Mothers.

At first, the issue seemed innocuous. Anne Baptiste complained that her name failed to appear on the ballot. She claimed she had been nominated at the public nomination meeting according to correct procedures. When a DIAND agent reviewed the nominations, no record of this nomination could be verified, and he failed to reconcile the dispute. From that point on, the dispute escalated into a gender issue. The electoral clerk signed an affidavit swearing his records were full and correct and went on to state that women "had no place" in the council. For support, he had the affidavits of two other elderly men, his social peers. But the

297 matter was not reconciled. Not only did the angry candidate pursue her position, but she easily secured the support of The Native Mothers' executive.

The attack on female candidacy united women, and the rifts between members were quickly, if temporarily, bridged. Within the Native Mothers' Guild, executive members of opposing outfits rallied to support the candidate. They described the men involved as "trouble makers" who did not understand election procedures and who were, therefore, unworthy of their positions. It is significant that the three men in question were not from high-ranking families. Moreover, the women were able to have the election results overturned. Men had challenged women's right to office and had lost.

At this time, The Native Mothers' Guild was the only voluntary organization on the reserve. Because it explicitly represented issues of major concern to women, and acted on the traditional and modern responsibilities assigned to women, it could and did provide an ambience of solidarity. Since its inception women of the Baptiste and Adams outfits had shared in its leadership. In the absence of outside challenge, however, executive members divided and competed with one another for power.

Central to the woman's rivalry was the struggle between the Adams and

Baptiste outfits for elected and administrative positions. The two outfits were well- matched teams who retained a comfortable balance in elected office. Nevertheless, feelings often ran high. The Baptistes were perceived to be "in power," and, according to their opposition, by 1975 the Baptiste women had taken control- control made easier by the fact that these women concurrently held elected and

298 appointed office. (Ironically, the Adams women had just thrown their support behind the Baptiste women in the 1974 election just described.) While informants' recollections of these events may not be wholly accurate, being tinged by subjectivity, their accounts of job allocations and tensions between women suggest that The Native Mothers' association had acquired the characteristics of a "quasi- group":

First, they are ego centered, in the sense of depending for their very existence on a specific person as a central organizing focus; this is unlike a group in which organization may be diffuse. Second, the actions of any member are relevant only in so far [sic] as they are interactions between him [sic] and ego or ego's intermediary. The membership criteria do not include interaction with other quasi-group members in general (Mayer 1966:97-98 quoted by Klein 1975:271).

Allegations against the Baptistes suggested that a nucleus of three women-

-Lillian and two of her daughters-allocated jobs, dispensed cultural funds, and reserved trips and other executive privileges for their closest supporters.. It was suggested that access to benefits from The Native Mothers was enjoyed only by individuals with direct links to this nucleus. It is true that men who then gained jobs through The Native Mothers now attribute their positions to the Baptistes, in particular, to Lillian.

As tensions between the two outfits escalated, the women of the Adams outfit and their supporters withdrew from active involvement in The Native Mothers and turned their efforts towards family-related enterprises. It is, therefore, quite likely that the Baptiste women did have greater influence within the association. This suggests

299 a possible pattern of patronage characteristic of quasi-groups in general: "... a temporary, bounded set of linkages between an ego and his [sic] supporters" (Mayer

1966:115 quoted in Klein 1975:217). Several of the men who expressed their gratitude to Lillian for the jobs she created remain loyal to the Baptiste outfit. They express support for her and her daughters and are quick to praise Lillian personally for her outstanding abilities.

In 1978, following the tragic death of a son in each family, tensions between the Adamses and Baptistes climaxed, and the two groups confronted one another in bitter recriminations concerning improper conduct during the mourning period.

The schism between the two families encompassed the entire village, and the bereaved families found themselves struggling for loyal followers.

A year later, this conflict was exacerbated. A small logging company, owned and operated by the Adamses, had been licensed by DIAND to harvest timber from the reserve lands. The company hired fourteen men, most of whom were members of the Adams kin network. The operation proceeded successfully until international timber rates fell, and the company felt forced to re-negotiate lower stumpage fees with the band council. Without preliminary explanations, DIAND advised the council to reject the lower fees; terminated the licence; and foreclosed on its loans. The company folded.

The dispute between the outfits escalated bitterly. Women of the Baptiste outfit were blamed by the Adamses for the company's collapse. The Adamses called for the resignation of the existing band council; gained control of council in a

300 subsequent by-election; fired the band manager; and hired a woman of their own

core as the new band manager.

By 1980, the Adams women had withdrawn all support from their local chapter

of the Native Mothers and had established a. new voluntary association, The Elders'

Sacred Circle. The new association evolved in the same pattern as the Native

Mothers. Whereas The Native Mothers had established themselves as an association

of women devoted to family and community, the executive of the new association

presented themselves and their group as wise advisers to the_ young. Although the

group's stated policy was to represent all elders (its membership list includes men

but none from the core of Baptiste families), the executive positions were held by

Adams women: women who had been active within the Native Mothers' leadership,

had held office as band councillors, and/or had sat on council advisory committees.

Significantly, Elaine and her husband became key figures in the decision making

process of the Elders' Sacred Circle. They attended all executive meetings and met

individually with the elders, advising them on strategies and programs and

undertaking the paper work and negotiations necessary for securing state funds and

support.

With such a key family member holding the position of band manager, the society gained marked advantages. Funding applications and development proposals

passed through the adminstration offices before arriving at the funding agency. At the same time, however, the Elders' Sacred Circle retained autonomy from the elected council. Hence, with respect to proposed services, economic activities, and

301 hiring practices, the women who ran it were free to act as they thought best.

By 1984, the Elders' Sacred Circle was the second largest employer on the

reserve. The women had secured funds to promote children's cultural activities, to

hold Carrier language classes, to attend workshops and cultural events throughout

the province, and to construct a new cultural centre. The Sacred Circle had eclipsed

the position of The Native Mothers. It enjoyed greater success in obtaining

government funds, and, therefore, had greater visibility. The general success of this

association was reflected in changes in the band council and administrative staff. By

1982, the Adams outfit dominated both. In fact, as stated earlier, the majority of

permanent personnel hired by the band council were from this kin group.

Patterns of patronage clearly emanated from the core to its kin and contracted

political supporters. In one summer, virtually all the workers building the cultural

centre, known as the "potlatch house," had kin ties to the society's executive. As

mentioned above, within a relatively short period, the association was able to provide temporary employment to twenty members of the Adams outfit. Additionally, the

society provided casual summer jobs for five adolescents of other kin groups.

The formal structure of the society, required of registered nonprofit societies,

appears to be a mere coating for a quasi-group centered around Isabelle. Although 0

not registered as the society's president, it is obvious that she has greater influence than other executive members. She makes key decisions in hiring, in proposing

projects for state funding, and in dispensing cultural funds for travel. With her daughter Elaine, she represents the society's interests outside the community, in

302 particular to relevant state agents.

The presence of a second voluntary association altered the political process. With the women's successful intervention through their Elders' association, the political and social position of the Adams outfit was enhanced. Now Isabelle, as Lillian had before her, gained a reputation for her ability to create job opportunities. At the same time,

Isabelle's two sons served on the council, as did Frances's son-in-law.

The Native Mothers' Guild did not disappear as a political force during the rising fortunes of the Elders' Sacred Circle, but its political strategies did change. Members reverted to their original goals: to provide care for needy families, to raise money and gather goods for unexpected family emergencies, and to promote community interests. The Native Mothers took the lead in raising funds for a new church. In short, they withdrew from overt political issues and contexts. While they turned away from job creation schemes, they continued to draw upon a fundamental political resource: their responsibility to promote domestic well being in the struggle for a more harmonious community.

Female elders peripheral to the decision making roles of the community have also entered into voluntary associations. The recent formation of the White Spruce Society, a charitable organization funded by industrial benefactors and state funds, is a case in point. Hannah, Isabelle's elderly associate, sits on the executive. Again, the executive is without male members from Saik'uz.

Hannah's presence is mainly symbolic; she has no direct authority over the

303 society's affairs. Her grand-daughter, also nonstatus and not a resident of the reserve, is the executive secretary and, thus, a key figure in the society's decision• making process. Among its various programs, the White Spruce Society has sponsored short-term forestry jobs for Saik'uz youth. During 1984, the society hired

Hannah's two grand-daughters, several of Isabelle's grandchildren, and Frances's foster children. Youth from other families, notably families without political presence, also benefited. The society also seeks capital funds for economic development that will provide specific long term opportunities for young natives. Adelle and Agnes are drawn into the planning and promotion of economic projects, particularly when the Elders' Sacred Circle and the White Spruce Society join forces.

Participation by the Saik'uz reserve in the White Spruce Society, however, is limited. Unlike the Native Mothers' and Elders' associations, the White Spruce society find itself in an ambiguous position vis-a-vis the band and tribal councils. Its effectiveness is curtailed by dependence on funding from industrial corporations.

Most problematic is its acceptance of funds from the Alcan Corporation.

Consequently, the society's direct involvement on the board and executive of the

White Spruce Society places members in a position of conflict with the tribal council.

Moreover, The White Spruce Society is constrained by its commitment to seek opportunities for all who have little access to employment. The struggle to serve nonnatives, nonstatus Indians, and status Indians, draws the executive women into tense and uncertain relations with each of these three constituent groups. Given these conflicts, the White Spruce executive finds it particularly difficult to work with

304 the Saik'uz band council and administration. However, the very fact that it is forced to reach beyond the council structure gives it some latitude, enabling it to work

independently. Without leadership from the core of either the Adams or Baptiste outfits, however, The White Spruce Society is likely to remain peripheral to the

political process. Indeed, should it survive, it will probably become a support group to a primary contender for elected office.

The women's voluntary associations have embraced the economic and social issues most pressing to their families and consequently to the community as a whole. These organizations form a fluid assembly; they grow and adapt their form with the process of changing kinship and economic interests. With kin-based ruptures in community relations, women's voluntary associations have become associations of women striving for family advancement. Within this loosely structured forum, women extend their family obligations into the public domain and expand their sphere of political influence, affecting council decisions and membership in the process. In so doing, elite women further their own political careers, and those of male kin. ii) The Administrative Structure

A closer examination of the role of the elected council in the dispute over logging practices reveals the multiple, complex relationships between dominant outfits, the administrative structure, and women's voluntary associations. But first, a few comments need to be made regarding the mandate of the elected council and its relationship to the administrative staff. It would be a mistake to assume that

305 formal roles vis-a-vis internal authorities reflects the command of intracommunity

political power. Moreover, the predominance of men in these positions cannot be

interpreted as an indicator of male political dominance. As we will see, council's

decision-making capacity is not absolute; it can be by-passed within and beyond the

community.

The chief and councillors receive a monthly stipend; $500 for the chief, $300

for the councillors. They are expected to hold regular meetings and to maintain a

written record of their discussions and decisions. Decisions are made by resolution

of the council and implemented by its members and the band manager.

With regard to negotiations with the state, the council has little power.9

Respecting its budget and its social needs, it can only forward requests, many of

which are transmitted through the Tribal Council. It does have a clear mandate to

make by-laws that fall within the regulations of the Indian Act, Section 81, but these

have little if any direct bearing on the primary issues of community concern:

reallocation of scarce resources and the struggle to benefit from the very few

employment opportunities.

The hierarchical structure emphasized by DIAND is undercut by a number of

factors. First, since elected personnel must retain a sympathetic relationship with

their supporters they are prone to distribute scarce rewards as personal rewards,

9 See Kupferer (1966), Lithman (1984), and Larsen (1983) for discussions of the limited authority of an elected chief and the contradictions and tensions inherent in these positions.

306 risking accusations of favouritism and generalized discontent. Second, while they must seem to be decisive and effective, they cannot appear to be violating cultural ideals of equality10 or of disregarding the guidance of elders, few of whom are political candidates. Third, everyone has access to outside authorities where the real power lies. Appeals and petitions are made to local representatives of DIAND; lawyers are hired to contest a variety of decisions (unfair hiring or unlawful dismissal, for example); and voluntary associations, with support from their umbrella associations, take issues directly to DIAND head office in Ottawa.

Fourth, although the band staff maintain they have little freedom in managing band affairs, they in fact have considerable discretionary powers. The social worker, for example, is responsible for categorizing recipients as employable or unnemployable, and thus determining personal incomes. In a similar vein, the educational administrator controls grants to adult students. Since her budget is insufficient to provide for everyone who wishes to attend academic or technical institutions, she determines which students will receive economic support and for how long. Even the receptionist can affect individuals' earnings. Among her diverse duties is the responsibility to contact individuals for occasional hourly jobs and special services.

For example, residents are paid $50 to transport band members

There exists a contradiction between values of equality and social practices that enhance social inequality and personal prestige, both of which are embedded in cultural tradition. In any given situation, people are likely to call upon the tradition that best suits their interests and goals.

307 to Prince George for medical appointments or other essential business.

Finally, in the process of face-to-face negotiations, council may be by-passed by its administrative staff and advisory committees. All council business passes through the hands of the administrative staff, especially the band manager, both prior to and following council's deliberations. The band manager and staff are in a position to determine whether or not particular matters reach the council, and, if so, whether they will be taken to a council meeting or to each councillor individually. Other issues may not reach the council until one of its advisory committees has already determined its outcome. Here again, staff members may meet with the advisory committee as a group or individually. If the decision requires a Band Council Resolution to be signed by the council, the staff member will complete the required document and then seek councillors' signatures one by one. In the process, council members are isolated from each other and are unlikely to pursue a line of action that will generate hard feelings.

During the research period, the independence of the band staff was augmented by the fact that the elected chief and one other male councillor were employed full time on shift work off the reserve. Additionally, both were busy in other activities, one in voluntary church work centered in a nearby community, the other in team sports.

Conflicts in their work schedules made it difficult to arrange council meetings.

Frequently one or the other was absent. The chief did not have a home telephone, nor could he be contacted while at work. This meant that the staff relied on the remaining councillors for guidance and for signing such band council

308 resolutions that were required in order to carry out their responsibilities. The remaining three councillors were more accessible; however, one did not have the literacy skills necessary to interpret the various documents and letters that required administrative decisions.

Outside agencies also by-pass council; they address their concerns to the administrative staff, members of advisory committees, and even executive members of the voluntary associations. As an example, administrators of the local school district have frequent communications with women whom they perceive to have- community influence and to be effective in reaching decisions. In a personal interview, one administrator named several women he particularly respected for their roles on the education committee. He explained that he would first contact them on various issues; if more was required, he would ask to have meetings with their committee, the educational administrator, and possibly the band council. Personnel at the regional DIAND office expressed similar preferences; they pointed out that while the membership of the elected council changed frequently, composition of the administrative staff, advisory committees, and voluntary associations was more stable, therefore making it easier to develop working relationships.

To return to the logging dispute. The band council did not take a leading role in the creation of the logging company. The Department of Indian Affairs was willing to provide some capital only if Isabelle's family could show their good intentions by supplying some money and equipment of their own. Isabelle, therefore, sold her ranch equipment and her cattle and offered some remaining equipment to the new

309 logging company. As the Adamses had the majority vote on council, the necessary band council resolution approving the logging and stumpage fees was secured easily, and DIAND granted a license (to be renewed annually) for limited, selective logging on reserve areas designated by DIAND'S forestry personnel. Management of the new company was centralized in Isabelle's immediate family. It was registered in the names of her daughter and son, and managed by the daughter and her husband. At first, the operation was welcomed by band members. Revenue from stumpage fees was paid to the band's capital fund. Salaries were competitive, and the profit brought reasonable returns to the managers/owners. Due to the scheme's general popularity, any opposition either from the council or from the administrative staff was weak and quietly voiced.

It was not until the second year of operation that the logging venture was criticized openly by reserve residents. Some complained of favouritism in hiring, while others criticized the management, the quality of the work, and the right of one family to log independently of direct council control. Concurrently, and perhaps without the knowledge of band members, opposition to the business was surfacing in the nearby white community. Owners of a local sawmill complained to DIAND officials that the company should be prohibited from selling logs to Japan. They claimed such sales undermined local entrepreneurs, who were losing revenues due to slumping international prices. Other white businessmen saw fit to complain of the unfair competition allegedly created by the government's support for Indian businesses. They feared that the operation's success might bring new business

310 competition. Meanwhile, DIAND officials expressed criticism of the company's fiscal management and called for an audit of its books.

At this point, band members intervened. A petition protesting lower stumpage fees was circulated, allegedly at the initiation of the Baptiste family. Simultaneously, council elections found the Baptistes in control. Nevertheless, the petition forwarded to DIAND was not endorsed by the council. Shortly thereafter, citing poor fiscal management and dropping profits and suggesting a conflict of interest between the elected council (with two of its three members from the Adams family) and the company management, DIAND revoked the license and foreclosed the loan. The equipment was seized and the workers found themselves on social assistance.

In this struggle the band council played a minimal public role. Given its lack of authority, the council could not license resource exploitation. Under the provisions of the Indian Act, only DIAND has this authority. At the same time, without a council favourable towards logging on reserve lands, no license could be obtained; DIAND could not proceed without council approval. Nor could the council and administration effectively monitor the operation.

In spite of this, band members expected their chief and council to take charge and to have the authority to initiate or terminate logging (or any other development and economic schemes) in accordance with members' wishes. Many complained that the council, in particular the chief, had done the community a disservice.

However, public opinion shifted when the timber license was lost. The political positions of the Adamses and Baptistes were quickly reversed. In the eyes of the

311 community, the Adamses were no longer unfairly nepotistic, but a family unjustly

treated by the council and DIAND. The Baptiste councillors were no longer weak,

but oppressive. Worse yet, not only were they ineffectual against the seemingly

capricious powers of the state, some individuals felt they had colluded with it.

Trapped in the net of economic dependency and political subordination, a

council that represents one faction's interests may be in the best position to initiate

economic ventures. Only when the council represents one faction is it easy to obtain

council approval (required by DIAND regulations in the form of a Band Council

Resolution) for economic ventures. The problem created by this is, of course, a situation of conflicting interests which leads to accusations of favouritism.

Nonetheless, councils that oppose specific economic development plans are just as likely to be censored on the grounds that "they don't want anybody to get ahead."

Significantly, since the collapse of the logging venture, the council has not promoted any major economic project. The council has been unable to replace the lost jobs or the lost revenue from stumpage fees.

In short, the elected council has no real mandate for community management but is restricted to act as mediator between band members and state agents. It has little scope for independent action. The actions of such a council are open to multiple interpretations that depend upon individuals' perceptions of councillors' ties of alliance and conflict. The political careers of the elite rise and fall with the community's acceptance or rejection of their personal fortunes and behaviour as councillors.

312 It is important to note that the relative fortunes of women's voluntary associations are inextricably linked to this process. The prevailing value placed on family loyalty and on providing for the needs of kin, however distantly related, means that elected councillors cannot free themselves of family interests. Nepotism at the same time is decried. The inherent contradictions contained in the ideals that places one's family first, but decries nepotism, cannot be readily reconciled from within elected or appointed office. More probably, it is the advancement of family fortunes and personal reputations by voluntary associations that allows kin groups to have it both ways. By instituting successful community services, independent voluntary associations maintain an outfit's reputation and political following even when it does not have command of elected or appointed office. The linkage between women's voluntary associations and their outfit's political following is strengthened by the fact that men have come to expect women's voluntary associations to produce jobs for them and to provide community services that the council does not. It is important, therefore that voluntary associations remain independent of the administrative structure.

Given the extraordinary discretionary powers of the state over the affairs of

Indian bands, the elected council is incapable of exercising reasonable control over community affairs. When tensions mount to the crisis point as a consequence of state intervention (as when DIAND terminated the logging licence) disputes are turned inward on a community leadership powerless against external forces.

Factional interests take precedence. Women's struggles for their families' prestige

313 and honour undermines the unity of voluntary associations. As individuals align themselves with elite women of one faction or the other, the membership flounders

and splits. Voluntary associations are only as strong as their leadership.

Summary and Conclusions

Persons of power are members of the Adams and Baptiste outfits who control elected office, administrative positions, and voluntary associations. Men predominate in elected office while women control the other positions. The stipulations of the

Indian Act appear to favour male candidates for the band council. Women have been constrained by their exclusion from the electorate, transfer of band membership upon marriage, and the process of regaining membership in their natal band.

Women's political strategies are more diverse than men's. Through their administrative and advisory positions, women exert considerable influence on the council and affect the agenda of council meetings. Face-to-face negotiations permit the staff to make decisions independently of the council or to isolate council members from one another during decision making. v

Voluntary associations have affected the political .process in three significant ways. First, as rival structures to the band council, they are able to siphon key resources away from the elected council and its appointed administration. Second, on moral issues, they critique the elected council. Third, they by-pass the council to negotiate directly with the state.

Voluntary associations have all the characteristics of quasi-groups. Elite women who lead the associations forge personal, informal linkages with their

314 followers and create patron-client relationships. Given their overlap of personnel with

the two outfits of power, women's voluntary associations become a forum for kin-

based political competition. The careers of public office holders, male and female,

therefore, are tied inextricably to the political agendas of the voluntary associations.

Although women's voluntary associations have altered the established political

field, they have not led women into political competition against men. Rather, women

work with the men of their families to achieve their end goals-goals that are, most

frequently, aligned to the interests of the family as a whole, rather than to the

interests of particular women. In this situation, women's position vis-a-vis men has

less relevance than do bonds of kinship. Nonetheless-and this is the point I wish to

emphasize-men are constrained in their political aspirations by their relations to women. It is clear that men come from families of strong women: women who are

competent political leaders in their own right and who bring honour and prestige to their male kin. They use their advantages to create viable options for female and

male kin.

In conclusion, to a large measure, the current situation replicates traditional

politics of leadership based on face-to-face negotiation. Personal power derives from control over productive and reproductive relations and is transformed into nonauthoritarian public power by competent members of prestigious kin groups. As elite leaders and as followers, in their struggle to retain control over their immediate interests and to direct the course of community affairs, women assume a central

315 position in the political process. CHAPTER NINE

WOMEN'S SOCIO-POLITICAL STATUS:

REGIONAL VARIATIONS AND CONCEPTUAL ISSUES

Introduction

This study has been concerned with the ability of women to exercise control over basic resources and important decisions, that is, with women's social status1 vis-a-vis men within the reserve community. I have argued that while capitalism has alternately benefited women and men, women have retained control over critical domestic resources. The current economy of dependence has further bolstered women's domestic status by providing the economic means for women's autonomy and by blurring distinctions between domestic and community interests. I have also argued that fulfilment of traditional female roles--wife, mother, provider-facilitates active involvement in community management. In the struggle for community development, political action is seen as the natural, and necessary, extension of familial commitment. I suggest that because of this perception of women's broad

1 There is no consensus on an operational definition of the concept "women's status," consequently nearly all references to women's status evoke debate and criticism. I use the concept status here, as defined by Brown (1975: 237) "an actual position of power over basic resources and important decisions." Granted, this is a narrow definition of status and I do not intend to imply broader understanding of women's rights, duties, or social identity (cf. Legare 1986: 11- 32). Rather, I employ status in this narrow sense because it applies consistently to the central issue raised by the studies addressed in this discussion: the material conditions of women's lives and how changing access to and control over critical resources affects their ability to participate in public decision-making.

317 responsibilities and because Saik'uz Whut'enne perceive women to have always played important managerial roles, women's contemporary political activism is valued as a manifestation of the traditional respect for women.

I now compare the socio-political status of Saik'uz women to that of other native Indian women, thus providing a basis for considering the theoretical implications of the case study. I then discuss the theoretical debates that attempt to identify the material and cultural determinations of women's socio-political status and that seek to analyze the social process of women's political activities.

Changing Social and Economic Relations

Colonization and capitalism have penetrated native societies at different times and at different paces. There are no pure or ideal phases of capitalist encroachment; some native societies have enjoyed periods of self-sufficiency as a consequence of mixed subsistence and commodity production, others, since confinement to reserves, have endured economic dependency because contract and wage labour opportunities never materialized. Still others, like the Carrier, have utilized unearned income to support subsistence activities and thus have avoided total dependency.

To encompass this diversity, I refer to three general phases of capitalist encroachment: mercantile capitalism (fur and hide trade), mixed subsistence/cash economies, and economic dependency or welfare colonialism. The purpose of considering the selected case studies is to define ways in which women might have had greater or lesser independent access to resources in different forms of social organization, and in consequence different political opportunities. The aboriginal

318 situation of native women is complex, spanning as it does the whole spectrum from

hunting gathering bands to the more complex organization of horticultural societies.

The selected case studies illustrate how colonialism and capitalism have built upon

and transformed indigenous gender relations.2

i) Precapitalist Gender Relations

Studies of Montagnais-Naskapi (Leacock 1980, 1986), Huron (Anderson 1987),

Tlingit (L. Klein 1975; 1980), Sioux (Albers 1983; Powers 1986), Iroquois (Brown

1975; Rothenberg 1980) and Northern Plains women (A. Klein 1983) point to

similarities and crucial differences in women's lives prior to capitalist intrusion. These

studies indicate that despite wide variations in the precapitalist organization of

production and in the indigenous cosmologies, the women of these societies enjoyed

considerable personal autonomy. Like the Carrier, women of these societies

determined the distribution of critical resources; controlled the organization of their work; affected public opinion through informal routes or, when appropriate, through formal channels; and commanded social esteem for their labour and ceremonial

roles. Women co-resident in multifamily dwellings worked collectively and

independently of males. They exercised the right to initiate divorce and to engage in intimate relationships of their own choice (Albers 1983:190-91; Anderson 1987:133;

2 The selected case studies represent four discrete cultural areas and aboriginal socio-economic organizations: hunter-gatherers of the eastern subarctic, horticulturalists of the eastern woodlands, buffalo hunters of the plains, and fishers- hunters-gatherers of the northwest coast. Each study concentrates upon gender relations.

319 Leacock 1986:155; Powers 1986:16; Klein 1975:79). Being unhampered by rigid

separation of private and public interests, women were neither confined to the

domestic realm nor isolated from the mainstream of community decision making.

In general, gender differences in task responsibilities and realms of authority were

complementary.

The same studies reveal a remarkable diversity in social relations between

the sexes in light of comparable conditions of gender equality. Among the

Montagnais-Naskapi, as with the Saik'uz Whut'enne, the division of labour was not

rigid so that women and men enjoyed a high degree of social integration in their

work (Leacock 1986:148; 155). In both societies, men and women respected one

another's realms of authority, and relationships between spouses were harmonious

(Leacock 1980:27;29). Tlingit society differed in that it was marked by a distinct

gender division of productive roles but not of other responsibilities. As with the

Carrier, Tlingit women and men assumed positions of leadership and owned

prestigious titles and names (L Klein 1980:94). Members of both sexes were

renowned as healers and prophets, and Tlingit women had the particular

responsibility of managing trade (ibid.:93;94).

In contradistinction to the Carrier and Tlingit, the Sioux and Huron experienced

gender separation. Following migration to the plains and the adoption of a hunting

lifeway, Sioux society was marked by discrete gender realms; women and men worked at different tasks and were organized into their own sodalities, although a few women would be invited into male societies (Powers 1986:25-27). The Huron,

320 according to Anderson, lived in a "gendered world" with rigid separation of the lives and experiences of women and men (1987:135). Positions of overt power were closed to women. This world, nevertheless, was "astonishingly egalitarian"; the social powers of women and men were sufficiently balanced "to prevent men aggrandizing] themselves at women's expense" (ibid.). Among the Iroquois, however, it was the formal structure of decision making that provided gender balance. Clan mothers elected men as sachems to represent interests of local groups at meetings of nation and/or league councils and exercised the right to impeach those who failed to fulfil their duties. Like Huron women, Iroquois females were protected from the domination of male authority.

Although cultural representation of sexuality and ideal gender behaviour was as varied as the organization of social relations between the sexes, in all these groups respect for women and for female fecundity was characteristic. Like Carrier mythology, Tlingit mythology is replete with references to the social honour accorded to the wisdom of old women, who were the sources of important cultural information

(L Klein 1975:93). Oglala mythology equates female nurture and reproductive roles with White Buffalo Woman, who brought the sacred pipe and seven sacred rituals to the people (Powers 1986:42-49;202). Oglala menstrual ceremonies and taboos reaffirm the spiritual connection between women and buffalo; "frequently they are interchangeable metaphors, symbolically representing both fecundity and nurture"

(ibid.:42). Throughout the Northern Plains and Sioux cultures, women's skills were associated with sacred power and visionary experience in a manner analogous to

321 male powers and abilities (Albers and Medicine 1983b:134; Albers 1983:191; Kehoe

1983:68; Schneider 1983:116). In old age, women were respected for their

knowledge, wisdom and power (Powers 1986:91; Kehoe 1983:69). Women's routes

to social esteem and prestige were distinctly feminine, but no less valued than those

conferred on men.

ii) The Impact of Mercantile Capitalism

Colonialism and capitalism did not affect women of these societies uniformly.

The degree to which women were either incorporated into commodity production and exchange or expelled from control over subsistence production during the transformation to mercantile capitalism varied greatly. Iroquois women initially benefitted from mercantile capitalism. When the demands of fur production, long distance trade, and warfare forced Iroquois men away from their settlements for long periods of time, women exercised greater economic and social control over village affairs and over local trade (Rothenberg 1980:68). In contrast, Tlingit women experienced little change in their status vis-a-vis men. Just as they had controlled aboriginal trade networks, (L. Klein 1980:97) they now controlled the new trade relations.

The deleterious effects of commodity production felt elsewhere have been attributed to critical shifts in productive labour that benefited men at the expense of women. According to Leacock (1986:162), Montagnais-Naskapi productive relations were transformed from collective, multifamily production-for-consumption to nuclear family production-for-exchange, which quickly became controlled by male family

322 heads. With the development of the buffalo skin trade, similar changes took place in plains societies. Women no longer participated with men in the collective hunt but were confined to hide processing Allan Klein notes that men who controlled the hide trade were able to hire others for routine labour, thus creating ties of dependency between themselves and the poor (1983:158). This benefited male sodalities

(unknown amongst the Carrier), which, under the leadership of men of wealth, eventually gained control over provisioning and distribution of necessary goods.

Male prestige was accentuated, while women's was undermined. In consequence, women were expelled from community decision-making.

The situation was not as extreme for Montagnais-Naskapi women. Despite the interventions of traders and the concentrated efforts of the Catholic missionaries to create firm positions of male authority, the Montagnais-Naskapi held to their ethics of collective responsibility and resisted the institutionalization of chiefly authority

(Leacock 1980:40).

State agencies precipitated further changes in gender relations in all societies, save the Tlingit. With Euro-American settlement, the Plains Indians were confined to reservations. When the hide trade collapsed, and the Sioux faced a crisis in provisioning, Euro-American agents selected high status men to distribute government annuities and commodities (Albers 1983:192). Here, as in British

Columbia, agriculture was introduced in hope of making men self-sufficient small farmers. Individual land holdings and annual subsidies were allotted to men but not to women. When the agricultural program failed, the people were reduced to

323 poverty (Powers 1986:30; Albers 1983:190). Thus, plains women, unlike the Carrier and Iroquois, became directly dependent upon men for domestic provisions. At the same time, the Bureau of Indian Affairs assumed control over the administration of the Indian peoples and instituted structures of authority that promoted female subordination (Powers 1986:204; Albers 1983:191).

Under the influence of the Quakers and the state, Iroquois and Seneca women lost many of the advantages they had enjoyed with the fur trade. In order to gain quick access to individual cash incomes, Seneca men became actively engaged in animal husbandry and, with the introduction of the plow, agriculture

(Rothenberg 1980:75-76). Despite their earlier control over food production and distribution, to a large degree women were displaced from critical subsistence production. Hence they lost control over a number of domestic resources

(Rothenberg 1980:77-78). Simultaneously, the state imposed the practice of elected representation and/or directly appointed spokesmen, to negotiate with the government, effectively disenfranchising Seneca women (Rothenberg 1980:81). In

Canada, of course, The Indian Act had the same ramifications. Iroquois women were denied direct participation in state-approved administrative structures, placing traditional forms of decision making in competition with the new male-only systems,

iii) Wage Labour and Women's Subsistence Production

Just as the effect of mercantile capitalism on aboriginal populations varied, so did the impact of wage labour. As new forms of production were introduced,

Tlingit women did not suffer social -dislocation. Rather, the commercial fishing

324 industry, established in the 19th century (and continuing to operate profitably today)

provided steady employment for women as well as for men. As the industry

expanded so did women's opportunities; they became skilled cannery workers,

clerical workers, and managers in service industries-prestigious year-round jobs that

provided them with avenues to critical political knowledge (Klein 1975:126-

135,143,173-74).

Women of the plains continued to suffer economic subjugation to men. In the late nineteenth century, Sioux women of Devil's Lake were excluded from jobs created by the federal government and denied opportunities to learn skills necessary for other wage labour (Albers 1983:186). Until the middle of this century, wage labour for men, although unreliable and poorly paid, was more common than for women. Subsistence production diminished. Consequently women became dependent upon petty commodity production, an unreliable source of income, and upon state transfer payments that were often administered by men (Albers

1983:186). Neither contract nor wage labour opportunities developed at Pine

Ridge. Following confinement on the reservation, the Oglala economy shifted abruptly and directly from self-sufficiency to state dependency. With the demise of the buffalo, the Oglala relied almost entirely upon state controlled provisions (Powers

1986:130).

Again, the position of Iroquois women differed from that of plains women; their subjugation to male earnings was never as severe as on the plains (Rothenberg

1980:76). When wage labour was first introduced it primarily benefitted men, much

325 as it did with the Carrier. However, like the Carrier, Iroquois women continued in

some subsistence and petty commodity production and later found irregular

positions in domestic service. While these economic roles allowed women to retain

personal autonomy, they were insufficient for them to hold onto the political power

previously enjoyed (ibid.:81).

In Labrador, erosion of women's status has been more uneven and less certain. Commodity production was not eclipsed either by contract or by wage labour, so that the economic balance between the sexes suffered no further upset.

In accordance with Canadian law, the Montagnais-Naskapi accepted a system of elected male representation, but continued to resist authoritarian interventions that would undermine consensus decision-making. Thus, they remained "strongly egalitarian but with an edge in favour of male authority and influence" (Leacock

1980:41).

iv) Contemporary Conditions: Economic Dependency and Personal Autonomy

The situation is no more uniform today. Tlingit women retain their egalitarian status and enjoy some advantages not equally available to men. Tlingit women dominate year-round jobs and take virtually all positions which rank second to the management positions controlled by white men. The rate of employment for Tlingit women is high; few who desire work are unable to obtain it (L. Klein 1975:290). In all forms of local leadership "[women] are present in numbers proportional to the numbers of active men" (ibid.). Apart from two parallel organizations, the Alaska

326 Native Brotherhood and the Alaska Native Sisterhood, voluntary associations have

mixed membership and leadership. Both organizations, however, play equally

important roles (ibid.:235-36).

In direct contrast, the Montagnais-Naskapi remain peripheral to local capitalist

development. Trapping and hunting remain the preferred mode of livelihood.

Hydroelectric development, mining, and lumbering threaten the self-sufficiency of the

Montagnais-Naskapi, who must now rely on government transfer payments that are

insufficient to compensate for the loss of their traditional bush economy. Wage

labour is rare, seasonal, and, in general, underpaid (Leacock 1986:166). Despite their preference for local autonomy, the Montagnais-Naskapi have acknowledged the heed for greater regional and international political involvement (ibid.:168.). The degree of female participation in community and regionally based organizations has not been studied.

Like the Carrier, the Pine Ridge Oglala and Devil's Lake Sioux exist on the margin of industrial capitalism and primarily rely on state transfer payments for their daily subsistence. Despite lower wages and fewer job opportunities, Devil's Lake women tend to have more stable incomes; they work more regularly and for longer hours. Domestic provisioning is now in the hands of the women who can count on social assistance payments to supplement low wages.3 Oglala women are

3 Under federal policies regulating public assistance (Aid to Families with Dependent Children) women with children are eligible for aid only in the absence of a male partner. Hence married couples often separate in order to ensure a steady income for the wife and children (Albers 1983:198).

327 somewhat more fortunate. Employment opportunities exist in the reservation's at the college, hospital, and administrative offices. Oglala women are also active in petty commodity production and in the creation of small businesses. Women are much more likely to graduate from college than men and are more systematic in their efforts to develop careers and support their families (Powers 1986:124-26). Job opportunities, however, are scarce. Those who are unable to earn an income, rely on state assistance, which as at Devil's Lake, is granted directly to women. A t both reservations, women assume responsibility for the immediate needs of their kin and their community. Women share goods and personal services, and in consequence, create social networks over which they can exert considerable influence.

Devil's Lake and Pine Ridge have similar administrative structures mandated by The Indian Reorganization Act of 1934. Women now seek positions as elected leaders and are favoured as administrative employees. At Pine Ridge, women join with men in activist organizations in the struggle for land claims settlements and in resistance to further land and resource losses. Women's voluntary associations have been formed to combat domestic problems such as marital violence and to address social issues of particular concern to women, but it is unclear how these affect the political processes of the reservation (Powers 1986:126).

The current degree of female political representation is growing and gaining greater social acceptance (Albers 1983:206; Powers 1986:145-146). Although an ideology of male superiority leads Oglala women to present men as "leaders,

328 bosses, persons in charge," Powers concludes that "men increasingly defer to

women" (ibid.:204). Similarly, Albers asserts that power is shifting into women's

hands. An "egalitarian pattern" has persisted among the Sioux, she claims, and

"whether women hold a formal office or not, they have a direct and influential access

to the political process that goes on in their communities" (Albers 1983:218,221).

Despite some important variations, the changing status of native women is

characterized by significant uniformities. Capitalist encroachment is beneficial to

women when they gain access to cash incomes on the same basis as men. Male

advantages that accrue with integration into the paid labour force are ameliorated when women retain control over the production and distribution of essential domestic

resources. The Carrier case is not unique. There exist some common experiences that all these groups, the Tlingit excepted, share with Carrier women. The Tlingit alone enjoy direct and equal political participation. They have never been subjected to the disadvantages suffered by the others.

These studies offer useful insights into changing gender relations. Nonetheless they have described women's transformed social status only in very general patterns.

Klein's study of the Tlingit aside, the specific dynamics of power relations have not been investigated. One study that does address the latter more directly, albeit very briefly and without broader consideration of gender relations, is Lynch's study of women's politics on a Northern Paiute reservation. It is an important contribution for it describes the social relations of key political actors. It also reveals similarities in political processes between Saik'uz and a Paiute community where political

329 competition takes place between two large, female-centered kin networks, "bunches" in the vernacular (1986:354).4 According to Lynch, the influential women of the core bunches "colored the operation of the tribal council and some of the other committees operating on the reservation" (ibid.:355).

In the specific political struggle presented by Lynch, a group of related women assumed control over their tribal council. Their political power, Lynch argues, derived from a number of factors: reliance on women for nurture, subsistence production, and wage labour, matrilocal residence, the high percentage of males ineligible for political office, the size of the women's kin network-about one half of the resident households, women's familial and community prominence, and women's skills in co-ordinating social activities (ibid.:362-63).

Although the all-women council did not compete for office on issues that could be defined as "women's social issues" their participation in the ensuing election, their conduct while in office, and their removal from office were characterized by gender tensions. While the women held office, men withdrew from overt political participation. Male state agents avoided dealing with the female councillors and urged former male councillors to seek re-election. At the same time, the female council focused on community improvements that had not been granted priority by

4 Paiute "bunches" are comparable to Carrier outfits. According to Lynch "the Paiute use the term 'bunch' to designate a number of households whose members are related by blood or through marriage and whose identity is focused on an individual or a core of individuals, as seen in the phrasing 'Annie's bunch' or 'the Wilson bunch.' Around this core, gather relatives and friends...(1986:354-55).

330 former councils: education head start programs and health initiatives, for example.

Concurrently, other women increased their community involvement through voluntary associations.

The women's rapid loss of power a year later was also the result of a number of factors. First, the women took a more aggressive stance with state authorities than had their predecessors, which was said to violate traditional perceptions of correct behaviour. Second, council unity dissolved over internal allegations of financial mismanagement and favouritism. Third, the Indian agent intervened to return men of the opposing faction to power. (The influence of the Indian Agent was most critical for he was in a position to subvert the women's goals through control of state funding at the same time as he manipulated male opinion.) Subsequent councils had male and female members and were alternately dominated by the two core factions. While women, on their own, never again formed a council, neither did men.

From Lynch's brief description of the political process, two points emerge clearly. First, the Paiute men did not directly benefit from having their wives and daughters in office. As Paiute, they respected women and accepted criticism that as "outsiders" they had no place in reservation politics; at the same time,- they were censured by whites for their lack of political forcefulness (ibid.:365). Second, Paiute women were not free to develop their political strategies as they saw fit but were subjected to the overriding authority of the state (ibid.:364).

As Lynch correctly points out, "these events may be understood as a process

331 common to any political system: the rise and fall of a particular group or party

representing a program and a constituency" (1986:362). But, more significantly,

these events can also be taken as further evidence that contemporary economic and

social conditions may enhance native Indian women's political opportunities. The

political processes described by Lynch parallel those I have described for Saik'uz

and those detailed by Klein for the Hoonah Tlingit. In all three cases, we find

women of dominant political factions at the centre of community politics. We also find that women's political leadership is not restricted to the formal administrative

structure; but is extended to voluntary associations and to informal influence

exercised through kin groups.

Realization that capitalism and state interventions are neither uniform in their ramifications nor irrevocably damaging to women requires rethinking existing theoretical assumptions about the presumed decline in women's status as they encounter capitalism (Anderson 1987; Albers 1983). It is no longer reasonable to present female leadership or egalitarian relations as "notable exceptions" (Etienne and Leacock 1980:20). Rather, theoretical advances are need to account more precisely for the conditions that foster egalitarian relations and that support female leadership.

Theoretical Explanations

i) Historical Materialism

Explanations for egalitarian relations have taken two directions: material analyses of women's roles as producers and cultural analyses of women's value

332 as reproducers.5 Material analysis itself is developing along two lines of thought.

On the one hand, materialism has been influenced by Engels's proposition that

women's freedom from male oppression was undermined by the emergence of male-

owned property, by production for exchange, and by class society (Leacock 1978;

Etienne and Leacock 1980; A. Klein 1983). On the other hand, it has been shaped

by arguments that in state (class) societies, women's status is determined by the

"dynamic interaction between a capitalist sector of production, which is organized in

terms of a class hierarchy and the generation of surplus-value (profit), and a

domestic sector of production, which is patterned around kinship and the creation

of use-value" (Albers 1983:218; see also Sacks 1979). It is important to look closely

at these two positions, for while the first argues that with colonization a decline in women's status is the norm, the second does not.

Following Engels, Leacock and Sacks argue that hunting and gathering bands enjoy egalitarian relations as a consequence of "the direct and more or less equal participation of all adults in the production of basic necessities, as well as in their distribution or exchange, and in their consumption" (Etienne and Leacock 1980:9).

All adults, therefore, have direct access to critical resources and are able to exercise

5 Anderson takes precisely the same distinction as her point of departure in her theoretical discussion; however, she limits her consideration of reproduction to the role of mother, which, she asserts, is known to confer high status in some societies but not others (1987:122-23). She has neglected a wider comprehension of reproduction and nurturing within the frame of cultural values and the extensive responsibilities of women for socialization and community well being, issues that are in fact critical to understanding gender relations in egalitarian societies (see Bell 1983; Powers 1986; Sanday 1981).

333 control over the conditions of their production and over the distribution of the fruits

of their labour.

Division of labour is by sex only and relations between the sexes are

grounded in the reciprocal exchange of services and goods. In other words, there

exists a female-male complementarity that involves interdependence between the

sexes, as groups, while it prevents dyadic dependency between women and men,

as individuals. Neither positions of authority nor rank exist. Decision making is

effected informally and requires consensus (ibid.; 1986:148). Women are charged with the same responsibilities and means to enforce social norms as are men (Sacks

1979:72-74). Sacks asserts that a "notion of equality [is] applicable to situations where women and men are expected to play different social roles as well as to situations where they play the same ones" (1979:101-2).

Leacock, following Engels, structures her argument upon an analysis of changes in the relations of production, "the relations set up among people as they produce, distribute, exchange, and consume the goods upon which they live"

(Etienne and Leacock 1980:8). She argues that the development of specialization and trade leads to sex-differentiated production. Women and men come to produce different things, and this creates the basis for ties of economic dependency between the sexes. Specialization leads to inequities, which are expressed in rank. Women produce for subsistence and sharing, for "private" use; men produce for accumulation and exchange, that is, for "public" use (Etienne and Leacock 1980:14).

Thus, men gain higher rank.

334 With colonization, the decline of women's status is said to proceed along

similar lines. Leacock identifies production for commodity exchange (which favours

male access to cash and further separates public and private interests), and reliance

on commodities (which undermines women's subsistence production and reduces

women's activities to the domestic sphere) as the crucial mechanisms of change.

Ties of economic dependency promote the development of the patriarchal nuclear

family, which in turn is encouraged by colonial ideology and state practices (Etienne

and Leacock 1980:19-20; Leacock 1980:40-41; Leacock 1986:161).

Allan Klein takes a similar position. He expands upon the theoretical utility of

the concept of relations of production which

takes into account an articulation between task organization, property rights, and method of distribution, political considerations, and ideological rationale. In short, it fuses material from a number of institutions as it pertains to the totality of production and it does so processually (A. Klein 1983:144).

For Klein, productive relations "go beyond mere social relations to include political authority, property relations, and the relationships between them" (ibid.: 166).

He argues that female participation in collective relations of production is essential to egalitarian relations:

where women play a significant role in primary production spheres, and especially where their presence in collective hunting is required, their position is roughly comparable to men (Turnbull 1966; Friedl 1975). ... as regards their position in political economy their presence in key sectors assures them a place of significance (ibid.:151).

Female expulsion from the collective hunt and private male advantage in production

335 for exchange, however, are, in themselves, not sufficient to precipitate female

subjugation. Rather, a transformation of social relations institutionalizing male control

over subsistence production and/or critical provisions is the crucial mechanism

leading to female subordination (ibid.: 164).

Unlike Leacock and Klein, Sacks does not associate female subordination

with production for exchange and male-owned private property but with development

of "corporate kin groups." She argues that when productive property is owned by

kin groups, access to critical resources become inequitable within and between kin

groups. As productive relations increase in complexity, she argues, women and men

come to stand in a variety of relations to the means of production. Because kin

corporate groups own and produce critical resources, contradictions emerge

between productive relations and work organization (1979:116). For example, in-

marrying spouses may be required to produce for the kin group, while being denied

rights of ownership and/or control over distribution. Because women's relations to the means of production are diverse, Sacks contends, their position vis-a-vis is men

is also varied. Social status, therefore, is not simply synonymous with gender; it varies between members of each sex, according to their access to and control over the means of production.

Sacks goes on to argue that where women are able to determine the distribution of critical resources and/or access to the means of production, they are able to wield power in a number of ways: dispensing patronage, shaping opinion, and filling positions of social authority (1979:77,83). Unlike Leacock, Sacks maintains

336 that the same situation will persist in kind, if not in degree, with the formation of state societies.

"In each of the three general kinds of human political economy, women, to varying degrees and in different ways, are in relationships to productive means where they exercise power and authority over other people (ibid.:73).

State society, according to Sacks's definition of this social formation as political economy,6 usurps prior ownership patterns and replaces them with small group or class ownership and control over productive property. The owning class exercises enormous power over the underclasses, who are dependent upon the owners for a means of livelihood.

Because the separation of the underclass from productive means is never complete, domestic production for use value persists in advanced capitalist states.

Hence, women are able to retain some measure of personal autonomy. They establish matrifocal kinship networks that, with collective claims to critical goods, provide the context for control over domestic resources and shared labour. In short,

Sacks argues that in state societies, prior to and during the encroachment of industrial capitalism, matrifocal kin networks among the underclass function as corporate groups re-creating the conditions necessary for women to retain a measure of personal autonomy. Hence, women avoid wholesale subjugation

6 Sacks defines "political economy" quite simply, as the way human societies have organized "ownership relations to productive means" and identifies three general ways, communally, state or class organization, and corporate kin groups (1979:72-3).

337 (ibid.:195, 249-50).

Albers's analysis of the changing relations between the capitalist and domestic

modes of production supports Sacks's thesis. Albers argues that

the status of women and the division of labor by sex are made intelligible only through an understanding of (1) how women and their communities (classes) are linked to the capitalist production process; and (2) how this linkage influences the way(s) in which provisioning tasks are organized in the domestic sector (Albers 1983:179).

Following what she terms the "holistic approach," Albers proceeds to "study

the dynamics of the articulations between a domestic economy and capitalism"

(ibid.:180). Drawing on her own data and comparing other situations on capitalism's

geographical peripheries (Africa and Latin America), Albers proposes that the

domestic sector is organized to maintain the population at capitalism's peripheries

rather than to integrate its members into capitalist production.

Albers argues further that in conditions of economic marginality, economic

security is derived from sharing resources with kin. Exchanges of labour, goods,

and services are reciprocal. Domestic provisioning depends upon mutual assistance

between kin, and individuals who are generous earn public esteem (ibid.:210). When women have relative wealth they play significant roles in interhousehold relations.

The greater their independent incomes, the larger the number of kin who will rely, directly or indirectly, upon their support.

According to Albers, women enhance their position by weak marital bonds,

mutual aid with female kin, and by increasing the number of women-headed

338 households. She argues that economic marginality fosters the development of

uterine-based household organization. Whether married or single, women favour

residing with or near their mothers. At the same time, single men, unable to be self-

sufficient, are dependent upon female kin.

Given the corporate interest in household provisions, the multiple demands

upon individuals' incomes, and an administrative priority to secure a living for

community members, the public interest and the private interest are virtually

undifferentiated. In consequence, from their influence over kin networks, women

direct the course of public decision making. They influence public elections and the

administration's circulation of desired goods (ibid.:216). In short, women's direct

links of support and patronage among kin networks explains their presence in

positions formerly held by men (ibid.:213).

Albers argues that the status of indigenous women depends upon the links between the dominant sector and the individual community. Should the community be marginal, yet retain control over domestic provisioning, the possibility for egalitarian relations persists. The possibility becomes social reality when women control interhousehold distribution of critical domestic resources and when they support their kin by sharing personal incomes.

Albers's argument supports Sacks's proposition that because matrifocal kin networks establish conditions necessary to forge productive relations with other women, and hence ameliorate conditions of female subordination, they re-create corporate kinship groups among the underclasses (1979:250). To a large degree,

339 matrifocal kin groups such as those analyzed by Albers are akin to the corporate kin

groups conceptualized by Sacks. The goods that circulate through them, under the

control of women, become corporate goods, providing the foundation from which

women wield patronage and step into positions of social authority.

In sum, historical materialists argue that the existence of egalitarian

relationships is founded on two essential conditions: (1) access to and control over

the means of production, as well as over the consumption, distribution, and

exchange of basic necessities must be equally available to all adults; and (2)

female-male complementarity that creates interdependence between the sexes as

groups and prevents dyadic relationships of dependence. At the same time, two

counter arguments are taken vis-a-vis the impact of colonization and capitalist

penetration on aboriginal women. The first position, following Engels, argues that as

a consequence of the separation of public and private production, female

subordination is the norm, although continued control over domestic provisions

allows some degree of personal autonomy. The second argument takes the

opposite stance, asserting that in communities at capitalism's fringes, the persistence

of domestic modes of production ensures egalitarian relationships. Continued

dependency on domestic production accounts for covert influence generated through domestic authority and matrifocal support networks but not for women's overt

authority in publicly constituted structures within economically viable communities such as Hoonah. That is, the argument has merit in explaining how and when women can directly influence social networks, and in consequence indirectly influence

340 decisions of office holders; however, it does not account for women's overt political presence. It neither identifies which women will assume formal leadership, nor how and when they will do so. Nor does it explain the apparently exceptional status of

Tlingit women.

ii) Cultural Explanations

It is interesting to note that while Albers (1983:218) dismisses the notion that an "ideological lag" could account for contemporary egalitarianism at Devil's Lake,

Powers draws powerful links between the "cosmological matrix" and real behaviour of Oglala women. She insists that in order to understand contemporary sex roles one must first comprehend "the wisdom of the ages" (1986:34). She argues that today, as in precolonial times, women's status is linked as closely to the values placed on female nurture as to their ability to control desired domestic resources.

Powers shares this view with other anthropologists who maintain that women's "separate but equal" status is linked to the social value placed on reproduction and nurture and who conclude that in the majority of foraging hunting societies women exercise power to the same degree as men (Bell 1983; Turnbull

1981; Sanday 1981).

The work of Sanday is germane to recent developments in cultural interpretations of the changing status of indigenous women. Sanday argues that women gain power in one of two ways; either they

... achieve economic and political power and authority when environmental or historical circumstances grant them economic autonomy and make men dependent on female

341 activities.... or they have the same powers ascribed to them

as a natural right ... when a long-standing magico- religious association between maternity and fertility of the soil associates women with social continuity and the social good. The rights and duties attached to this emphasis give women formal power and control at the local level as well as the right to influence male actions and decision making beyond the local level (1981:114).

She asserts that the various effects of colonialism will differ according to the bases of female power. Where power is ascribed, the society will identify with women's right to authority, and in consequence will organize to resist its erosion. In contrast, achieved power appears to be more vulnerable to technological change and to external challenges. Where female power is achieved, external forces that create new power systems between dominant and subordinate societies are likely to cause shifts in relative power relations within the subordinate group (ibid.:131).

Pre-existing "cultural configurations" are viewed by Sanday as the explanation for the diverse effects of colonial penetration. Her analysis leads her to conclude that achieved female power is highly vulnerable to forced subjugation, leading to degradation, whereas entrenched ascribed power may decline but not be debased.

In either case, Sanday postulates that colonialism creates severe stresses on subordinated societies. Responses to food shortages, epidemic depopulation, and migration, for example, vary according to pre-existing cultural values. Sanday alleges that where women are "equated with fertility and growth and men with aggression and destruction" severe social stress will lead to suppression of male sexual energy

342 and control of female fertility. If the cultural configuration has valued male

competition, hunting and warfare, she asserts, male dominance will arise out of these

crises. Male domination, however, is less likely to appear where women's fecundity

is strongly linked to natural powers that are sacralized, and where co-operation is

valued over competition. Between these two extremes one may find that severe

social stress leads either to "mythic male dominance," that is, to an ideological

expression of male superiority, but as well in the context of a social reality of female

competence and influence, or to situations of social manoeuvring designed to retain

dual sources of power akin to pre-existing ideological conceptions (ibid.: 185-87).

Consideration of Sanday's model reveals important parallels between the

Oglala, Tlingit and Saik'uz Whut 'enne. In these three cases contemporary

perceptions of women's responsibility to nurture future generations motivate women to undertake community responsibilities, to engage in tribal politics and to enter wage employment (Powers 1986:212; Klein 1980:204;). In the words of Powers

(1986:213), they are "endowed with the perspicacity to know that what is good for the individual is good for the species-metaphorically known as 'the People' among the Lakotas [and the Tlingit and Carrier]." In short, cultural ideals dictate a broad spectrum of social and political responsibilities that oblige women to full social participation as leaders. The responsibility of nurture entails rights and duties that give women the power to shape male behaviour, and hence, to exert control over community decision making.

The critical difference between the Oglala, Tlingit and Carrier cultures is the

343 degree to which each has resisted foreign sex-role models. The Tlingit, who have

suffered least from capitalist penetration and state encapsulation, have retained

traditional complementarity. On the other hand, the Carrier and the Oglala, suffering

economic hardship and expulsion from traditional resource territories, have been less

effective in their resistance. As Powers makes clear, Oglala women pay lip service

to the myth of male superiority, while, as I have shown, ambiguity and contradiction

mark Carrier women's perceptions of their historical status.

The role of provisioning crises in precipitating female subjugation also reveal the utility of Sanday's view. Egalitarian relations among the northern plains tribes and the Montagnais-Naskapi were a consequence of achieved power, dependent upon women's control over economic resources and therefore, vulnerable to external forces. It was only after gender equality had been eroded by changes in productive relations that critical food shortages threatened survival. On the plains, male sodalities were on the rise prior to crises in domestic provisioning. Similarly,

Montagnais-Naskapi women did not lose access to the means of production until

Iroquois raiding had forced them to take shelter in palisaded villages controlled by the Jesuits. Once sheltered by the missionaries, the Montagnais-Naskapi were vulnerable to the missionaries' manipulation of charity and their harsh ideology of female subjugation (Anderson 1985:61). Given the cultural configuration of these groups, which were then oriented to male destructive power as exemplified in

344 raiding,7 it is not surprising to find an over-dependence on male strength, and in consequence male appropriation of female domestic responsibilities and male control over female behaviour. In contradistinction, because the prevailing conditions were the exact opposite among the Carrier, food shortages bolstered the status of Carrier women. Not only was the power of Carrier women ascribed as a natural function of nurturing, but Carrier men had not experienced the same opportunities to aggrandize themselves in colonial wars or to gain unusual wealth through raiding. Similarly, contemporary female authority resting on control over provisions takes place in the absence of male control over other goods granted equal or greater social value.

In sum, material and cultural analyses identify conditions that may foster egalitarian relations between women and men. While Sanday posits two distinct bases for female equality-autonomy achieved through fortuitous circumstances and power that is ascribed-materialists seek to identify shifts in productive relations and/or contradictions between work organization and ownership of productive means that precipitate changes in gender relations. Careful comparison of studies on the changing status of indigenous women illuminate the importance of considering women's roles as producers of the means of subsistence and as reproducers of society.

7 Although neither Leacock nor Anderson directly identifies what Sanday labels an "outer orientation" (that is men are symbolically meshed with a power derived from making weapons and pursuing humans as well as animals), it is unreasonable to assume that the years of struggle with the Iroquois did not enhance male bravado and individual esteem.

345 Neither approach, however, is sufficient in itself to explicate the complexities

of male/female relations in precapitalist societies, nor is it sufficient to explain the

impact of capitalism upon them. Nor can a careful meshing of materialist and

cultural analyses address all the salient issues of gender relations and women's

political status. While both identify conditions necessary to women's high social

status and offer explanations of broad patterns of change in their status, neither

addresses questions of daily interactions of women and men as kin who are bound

by productive relations and common membership in political units. Albers, for example, points to the social influence that derives from matrifocal control of kin networks but stops short of examining the specifics of their political relations.

Similarly, Powers argues that even while Oglala women present their men as leaders, they are assuming positions of leadership and taking direction over men's lives. Yet neither considers the strategies used by women to gain or maintain positions of influence. Nor do they analyze the importance of social divisions, such as powerful kin groups that have ascribed rank, in determining who influences whom. This leaves two important questions unanswered: Under what conditions do women obtain and maintain positions of authority or influence? and, Which women are eligible for public office? Answers to these questions can only be obtained through careful analyses of routine political practices. As my study of Saik'uz shows, identification of the bases of women's power is only one step towards understanding the constraints and opportunities women face as they compete within the political

346 arena.

iii) Processual Analyses

Politics is a social process, a realm of interpersonal action that is more complex than the female/male dichotomy articulated by material and cultural analyses suggests. Politics, as Swartz has stated, is a struggle to implement public goals. It involves face-to-face negotiations that ultimately determine who will exercise power and how s/he will do it. It follows, therefore, that in any analysis of the political processes of native Indian communities we must take into full consideration the social dynamics of political activity, "the sorts of relations which will occur around public goals and the type and degree of attachments to those goals..." (Swartz

1969:2). That is, our analytical models must embrace the realities of existing social divisions, of the social dynamics of gender relations within and between social divisions, and of the multiplex nature of the political ties binding community members to external actors and groups.

By analyzing women's use of power to achieve common public goals as they simultaneously pursue their private interests, it is possible to investigate the social constellations central to the political process. In so doing, a wide spectrum of activities are analyzed: those that are essentially co-operative and unmarked by social differentiation, and those that are competitive and give rise to conflict and social inequity. It is only by viewing these processes that women's relative position to each other and to men can be identified and understood. Thus, for example, I was able to expose the contradictory interests of voluntary associations which on the

347 one hand emerged from the collective strength of mothers struggling for community

development, while on the other they were shattered by the conflict of individual

mothers pitted against one another in a battle for political resources.

Unlike the materialist and cultural approaches, processual analysis does not focus on determinants of behaviour or on social structures but on actual events and individual action. Thus the daily interactions among women and between women and men become the subject of study. The processual approach is particularly suited for detailed ethnographic analysis and for documenting the ways gender relations are negotiated. This framework allows us to follow the interplay of gender- based conflicts and kin-based factional interests. I show, for example, how female elites mobilized community opinion against male opposition to female councillors and then used their public position to enhance the social status of their own political faction. Similarly, Lynch demonstrates how female political action changed public decision making at Brownsville. An all female council not only introduced new social issues and novel strategies for confronting the state, it also spawned new conflicts between factional kin groups (1986:360-362).

The processual approach to the detailed ethnography of gender relations also offers a firm basis for comparative study and for articulating generalizations about the cross-cultural experience of political processes. Turning again to Klein's study of

Hoonah Tlingt and Lynch's analysis of the Brownsville Paiute, we find that common application of processual analysis reveals interesting similarities and differences. In all three cases participation in, and particularly leadership of, voluntary associations

348 provides women politically necessary skills of organization, lobbying, and financial

management. In Brownsville and Saik'uz we also find that voluntary associations rival

the elected council for state grants. In all three cases we find that women's

parapolitical activities afford the opportunity to grant jobs, an important political tool.

It is also clear that the elements that determine women's importance differ

considerably. While women's economic contributions to the household and their

influence in kin networks is important in each case, Tlingit women do not form

matrifocal networks of single mothers as do the women of Saik'uz and Brownsville.

Moreover, Klein claims that political influence is not based on specific kinship groups,

whereas this is clearly the case at Saik'uz and Brownsville. With the Tlingit men

enjoying greater economic security than the Carrier and Paiute, we also find that women's influence over sons is not a key political instrument. While it is clear the

Saik'uz women overtly influence their adult sons, the Hoonah women do not.

In sharp contrast to the Tlingit, women's presence in the political arena creates an ambiguous position for Carrier and Paiute men. The presence of female leaders creates problems for men in one of two ways: if the women of the family fail to

provide effective leadership, men's chances for political power are undercut. At the same time, young men who defer to female leadership are censured by men of the dominant society for contravening its models of male dominance. As established,

Paiute men face similar criticism. At Saik'uz and Brownsville conflicts between the gender ideology of white society and native culture have the same consequences;

349 interference from external forces is phrased in sexist terms. Indian Agents and other officials challenge female leadership with contempt; they accuse men of "letting women take over"; of being "a lost generation." In circumstances of this nature, analysis of family relations and culturally ascribed social divisions cannot take second place to broadly defined considerations of gender conflicts.

Conclusion

A review of materialist and cultural analyses of the changing status of indigenous women reveals the limits of theoretical explanations that grant primary consideration to women as producers or as reproducers. Broad categorizations of the basis for personal esteem and domestic authority fail to illuminate the social realities of individual struggles for political office and social influence. In relation to other studies of the social dynamics of women's political strategies, this study of

Saik'uz women underscores the limits of material and cultural analyses and points to the need for theoretical models grounded in the routines of social relations.

Approaching women's political participation through theoretical lenses that stress female/male subordination obscures the relative power available to native women as a consequence of ascribed rank and personal competence.

Where local-level politics are multiplex and bound by kin loyalties, political teams are neither female nor male. Nor are they concerned primarily with the advancement of one sex over the other. By concentrating on a female/male dichotomy we obscure the interdependence of female and male political careers, the personal status required of officers, and the short-term rise and fall of individuals'

350 political influence. To fully comprehend women's position in community decision

making and historical changes in their social status, our analyses must focus on individual women's ability to shape social relations by manipulating material and ideological resources and on what they hope to achieve in the process.

351 CHAPTER TEN

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS

Summary

The primary goal of my study is to account for the central role of women in the

public decision making of Saik'uz. I set out to answer two questions: How have

particular women come to occupy key political roles? and, What strategies do female

leaders employ to obtain and retain positions of influence? Throughout, I have focused on aspects of traditional culture and contemporary life that affect the course of public decision making. I argue that women's public presence is predicated upon three tightly interwoven factors: women's economic autonomy (which includes control over critical domestic resources); the prevailing ideology of respect for older women's knowledge and wisdom; and the socio-economic structure, in which public and private interests are essentially undifferentiated. The issues facing the women's voluntary associations, the hired administrative staff, and the elected band council are dominated by domestic concerns: for example provision of employment and unearned income, allocation of funds for house maintenance, and allotment of housing.

I have shown that women are active in Saik'uz politics. Women are appointed by the council to its advisory committees; are delegated by the council to represent the community's interests with intervening state agencies; are hired in administrative positions; and are elected to the council, albeit less frequently than their male kin.

Women, unlike men, form voluntary associations in order to shape the course of

352 public decision making, to obtain much needed funds for community development projects, and to create jobs in the community. As leaders of their associations, women are key political players: they decide what community services or projects to sponsor and whom to hire in the jobs they have created. Because of this, these women are in a position to attract political followers who will offer their support in band elections and other aspects of community politics.

It is important to bear in mind that the elected council is not an autonomous body. It relies on the recommendations of its appointed advisory councils, whose membership is primarily women. It is dependent upon its all-female administrative staff. And, it must share with women's voluntary associations the all-important functions of dispensing scarce state resources.

On the whole, men support their female leaders. Gender-based conflict appears to be confined to competition for elected office, and, even then, occurs rarely. With few exceptions, women's political alliances are not distinct from men's. Although women organize independently of men, their associations represent kin-based interests shared by men. Female leadership is derived from the same kin groups as male leadership.

As I investigated the political process of the community, I identified the few women who have access to elected and appointed office. These women, I discovered, are all members of two female-centered outfits: outfits whose social esteem derives from traditionally ascribed rank and proven ability for marshalling greater material resources than others of similar rank. By virtue of their personal

353 reputations as good and/or strong women, as good providers, and as exemplary

mediators; and by their ability to obtain scarce political resources, these women form

the political core of their outfits. Hence, they maintain positions of public influence.

I found their executive control over their voluntary associations to be essential to

their political positions. Through these associations, women maintain family esteem,

attract political followings, and directly influence community affairs-even when they

and their kin do not hold political office.

The Saik'uz Whut'enne seek leaders with noted, even exceptional, abilities. The

values placed on personal ability are not gender determined: Men and women rely

on individuals who are particularly gifted and call upon them to intervene with the

dominant community. Elite women from Saik'uz are sent to Ottawa on band and tribal council business; they represent neighbouring tribal and band councils as expert witnesses in land claims and fishing rights hearings, and they join the lobbying efforts of provincial organizations, acting for women and men alike.

Women excluded from political office are also critical to the political process.

Women actively support their leaders by engaging in community service, by joining voluntary associations, and by using personal influence in their households and extended families. In general, it is women who accept the major share of responsibility for family well being. Women use their personal incomes to support dependent children, to assist adult kin, and to aid the elderly. Women appear at the potlatch in larger numbers than do men. Thus, they perpetuate the established

354 traditions of their community and reinforce the social divisions ascribed by family and

individual rank. Additionally, women actively engage in the struggle against state

and capitalist encroachment on their traditional resource base.

Many factors of traditional and contemporary social organization contribute to the

current participation of women in the public sphere. Throughout Carrier history

women have enjoyed economic autonomy; autonomy based on their control over

essential domestic resources and over the organization of their own labour.

Traditionally, the means of production were accessible to women and men on the

same basis. Women, as well as men, had rights insuring control over their

production and the fruits of their labour, with women exercising greater control over

domestic provisioning.

In the past, women's contribution to and presence in Carrier ceremonies was

no less significant than men's. At ceremonial occasions high status women took

precedence over women and men of lower rank. Carrier social organization allowed women to assume positions of influence at two levels: as leaders within the keyoh, and as successors to clan titles (which accorded the rights and privileges of resource proprietorship and clan leadership). Just as select men held stewardship over hunting and trapping resources, so select women had proprietorship over fishing sites and berry grounds. These rights were guarded from trespass and were held equally important to male-controlled resource areas.

The fur trade transformed the relations of production. It appears to me that men traded furs in larger quantities than did women. At that time, men stepped into new

355 positions of significance as mediators between their communities and the traders.

Concurrently, however, women assumed greater responsibility for subsistence production, provided necessary supplies for the traders, and retained their control over domestic provisioning.

With Euro-Canadian settlement of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, benefits for women became scarce. Productive relations were altered drastically.

Men gained greater access to cash incomes. Contract labour not only failed to pay women directly for their work, it created a new all-male hierarchy; men with contracts exercised control over others dependent upon them for wages. Women, nevertheless, maintained a degree of autonomy through their roles as producers of petty commodities, as domestic workers, and as subsistence producers. In 1911, the state-enforced transformation of the salmon fishery from male operated and controlled salmon weirs to female operated and controlled nets, enhanced women's esteem as family and community providers.

Despite the colonial benefits accruing to men, women were not excluded from spheres of social influence. When men were absent, women found themselves in charge of their villages and family settlements. And in spite of their exclusion from the new positions of leadership commanded by^state and church, women continued to direct male decision makers. At the same time, colonization created new roles and advantages for women. Girls attended residential school in larger numbers than did boys, and stayed for longer periods of time. As a consequence of their schooling and of the introduction of voluntary associations, women gained skills

356 critical to community leadership.

Throughout periods of prosperity and of deprivation these patterns of female

influence and social contribution persisted. Even as men gained new advantages

as labourers in the expanding war-time and post-war economies, so women

extended their responsibilities for subsistence production and community

management. The local Saik'uz chapter of the provincial Native Mothers undertook

many community responsibilities. In the 1960s, as industrial expansion forced men

out of the waged labour force, women sought steady work to support their families.

Throughout changing economic fortunes, male reliance upon female subsistence

production remained constant.

Currently, the economy of dependence provides women economic advantages not afforded to men. Women are more likely to secure regular employment in the administrative staff of the reserve. But only a few women enjoy steady employment.

For the majority of women, social assistance and pensions offer reliable, albeit inadequate, income. With this income, women establish independent households and networks of mutual support in extended families and outfits. In these circumstances, men not only depend on women for vital food, they also turn to women for cash loans and access to women's vehicles, boats and other necessary equipment.

As critical as women's control over domestic resources is, however, male acceptance of female domestic authority is equally significant. Men do not contest women's domestic management; nor do they dispute women's right to intervene in

357 the personal lives of their male kin. Men, rather, have come to expect that women will take economic and social responsibility for all members of their extended families.

Throughout the cultural changes wrought by Euro-Canadian encroachment, two facets of Carrier ideology-respect for women's nurturing and reproductive roles and idealization of older women's competence and wisdom-have remained constant.

Common ideals of nurture are not restricted to child rearing. Women also bear responsibility for the behaviour of adult children, for instructing grandchildren, and for intervening in the domestic crises of near and extended kin.

At the centre of their female symbols is the wise old woman of Carrier cosmology. In mythology and in historical experience, young adults of both sexes relied upon the counsel of old women. Carrier mythology presents clear images of strong, competent old women. These women are described, unequivocally, as pillars of knowledge, personal fortitude, and altruistic behaviour. Carrier mythology also represents young women and adolescents as individuals of rare supernatural powers. In the representation of female and male supernatural powers, one very important distinction obtains; while male medicine men and chiefs are cast in negative roles of self- aggrandizement and uncontrolled social hostility, women are not. The roles defined in mythological representation have their counterparts in modern reality. Traditional values placed on nurture and reproduction only enhance women's social and spiritual responsibilities.

In the 1980s, the traditional female roles provide motivation for and justification

358 of women's political participation. At the heart of modern women's successful political careers lies the cultural significance placed on women's domestic duties and authority. Women's sense of nurture extends from domestic provisioning to providing for the needy of the community; from child rearing to the creation of jobs for adult sons and daughters; and from subsistence production to political action essential for preventing further alienation from traditional resource territories.

Competent women who have earned high esteem in all of these areas have reputations as strong women and command the respect essential for them to advance themselves as community leaders.

All these factors coalesce to provide economic and cultural foundations for modern women's unique political strategies: the formation of voluntary associations that interact successfully with the formal political structure, shaping public decisions and advancing family and community interests. Women's voluntary associations compete successfully with the elected council in obtaining limited economic and political resources. They create patron-client relationships that can be negotiated successfully in political competitions, and they create a special forum in which women can retain and advance family honour and political fortunes.

In the past thirty years, executive membership in voluntary associations has provided elite women with the opportunities to learn skills essential for community politics. These skills, when combined with women's economic and educational advantages vis-a-vis men, allow elite women to secure their public positions.

Neither contemporary Carrier women's public participation, nor their views of the

359 past have been documented in other studies. In my study, the picture of female

leadership that emerges contradicts, at times, earlier views of gender relations. At other times, it supports sparse documentation of women's traditional leadership and cultural contributions. It will be useful, therefore, to compare my findings to those of others who have researched the Carrier.

Carrier Ethnography

i) The Past

Unlike Morice's portrayal of women as drudges burdened by menial tasks and abused by lazy husbands (1930:57-58), I suggest that women and their work were and are valued. More appropriately, notions of drudgery and "working like slaves" appear to be applied by the women themselves to the historical period of missionization and adaptation to Euro-Canadian precepts of women's domestic labour, rather than to the aboriginal period. The accounts of the Saik'uz elders lend credibility to Harmon (1903:209-210), who attests to the high regard and fondness aboriginal men felt for women and to McLean, who states that women were generally held in high regard (1932:180). Unlike Morice (1889:124) and Goldman (1963:358),

I suggest that in the past, women's high social esteem was linked to their pre• eminence as mothers and grandmothers. Elders' narratives provide evidence of the domestic authority exercised by their mothers and grandmothers. Their accounts indicate the extent of women's control over the organization of their own labour and over the distribution of the fruits of male and female labour alike.

Although other studies refer to women trapping and hunting (Goldman 1963:352,

360 Hudson 1983:284), the dominant impression given is that women rarely undertook

this work; and then most often to replace and/or assist men in their labour. I, on

the other hand, found that until recent disruption of subsistence production and

trapping, the majority of women routinely trapped, snared, or hunted. These skills

were taught to young girls as early as possible; throughout their lives women utilized

these abilities.

Perceptions of Carrier women as social inferiors, notwithstanding, a surprising

number of statements attesting to egalitarian access to positions of leadership and

privilege have been made (Goldman 1963:334,358,362; Morice 1892:112; 1893:175;

1932:642). Goldman declares that the first born, male or female, was the detsa of

the sadeku. As detsa. her privileges would have been considerable; she would have

had control over hunting areas, traplines, and potlatch accumulations, and she would

have had the final say in dispute settlement. Morice, unlike Goldman, attributes female leadership solely to the birthright of the noble born. On one occasion, he states that high-ranking women once had the same claim to titles as their male

peers.

Unfortunately, the data of my study cannot clarify the record completely. The situation in Saik'uz appears to fall between the cases described by Goldman and

Morice. Within the residential groups women achieved leadership. On a broader scale, they were ascribed positions of clan influence as their birthright. There is no indication that women achieved position of village chief.

Analysis of the mythological portrayal of female sexuality reveals that

361 characterizations of female sexuality and social behaviour contradict commonly held

notions of female pollution and male repugnance toward menstruating women. The

elders suggest that the powers inherent in women's sexuality and reproductive

capacities were neither evil nor, in essence, offensive. They point to a more complex

cosmology. The Carrier belief system recognizes the ambivalent qualities of all

natural powers and thus the necessity for controlling personal power and for

understanding the complicated relationships between sustaining life through

procreation and through the consumption of animal flesh.

In Chapters Three and Four I describe the gender-differentiated impact of capitalist penetration into the Carrier economy; I also look more closely at domestic relations of production than have previous studies. I confirm what others have indicated. Productive relations were transformed along two axes: collective/individual and clan/domestic (Steward 1977; Kobrinsky 1973; Goldman 1963; Hudson 1983).

I then add the crucial third axis, female/male. In considering this essential element,

I found that periods of relative prosperity for men have, in the past, coincided with minor crises in domestic provisioning. That is, while individual men prospered from contract and wage labour, family units faced reduced access to subsistence goods.

In this process, male economic opportunities pivoted around the extension of female subsistence responsibilities and the expansion of female petty commodity production.

Stated otherwise, male opportunities depended upon women's domestic production.

In consequence, my study raises questions about other Carrier bands: Is the situation of Saik'uz representative, or is it unique?

362 According to Hudson, within a different time frame, the economy of the Tl 'azt

'enne underwent a similar transformation as at Saik'uz. Whereas the resource base of Saik'uz Whut 'enne was seriously depleted by 1890, the resource base of Tl 'azt

'enne remained "relatively intact" so that they continued to rely on subsistence production. With respect to domestic provisions and other European goods, they

"were able to maintain an existence independent of mercantile capitalism" (1983:96).

Aboriginal productive relations were transformed along similar lines as at Saik'uz: men trapped or engaged in paid labour; women took charge of subsistence.

Through successive changes in men's wage earning capacities this pattern of productive relations at Stuart Lake persisted. In the 1940s, when men's wages were insufficient for family self-reliance, women supported them and their children with subsistence production (1983:211). Two decades later, when men easily found wage labour in sawmills, "it became necessary to move between wage labour and trapping, while maintaining access to bush resources through hunting and fishing"

(1983:132). Hudson argues that bush production rose and fell with the degree of Carrier integration into the capitalist labour force. He maintains that when male workers were excluded from wage labour or when fur profits rose in relation to the costs of desired commodities, the Tl 'azt 'enne turned to bush production.

On the other hand, I have found evidence to suggest that female subsistence production takes on added significance when men are engaged by the capitalist economy. Male access to cash does not ensure family access to subsistence needs even when wages might be sufficient for family support. Indeed this is inadvertently

363 • suggested by Hudson, himself! As he asserts, male earnings are often utilized by

males for other purposes: the purchase of traplines, traps, boats, guns and other

equipment for shared male use, provisioning for trapping season, and maintenance

of male equipment (1983:211 ff.).

ii) The Present

Scattered references to the contemporary lives of Carrier women suggest the

domestic and extended family situation at Saik'uz is representative. As mentioned

previously, Gibson (1972:36) remarks on the key role of the elderly in maintaining the traditions of the extended family and points to the

authority of the typical grandmother. He also describes how middle-aged women fish, hunt and garden to support members of their extended families. Like their

peers in other Carrier villages, Moricetown grandmothers, mothers, and aunts assume responsibility for extended family units. They provide for children and exercise authority over junior male and female members. Here, as elsewhere, elders' pensions and mothers' Family Allowances provide for dependent family members; in periods of economic hardship these cheques represent relative wealth (Niezel and

Niezel 1978:9).

For the women of the Stuart Trembleur band the situation is no different. Family

Allowances, mothers' income, and Old Age Pensions are used to support families, providing cash for necessary provisions and for financing bush production (Hudson

1983:146). Production and processing of sockeye salmon, the key subsistence

364 resource (ibid.:168) is done primarily by women.1 It would appear that the staple diet is supplied by women who supplement their salmon stores with whitefish and char.2 Even moose, which is of secondary significance, is processed and stored by women. It is likely, therefore, that the women of the Stuart Trembleur band have control over vital domestic resources; as a consequence, they likely exert domestic authority in a manner comparable to the women of Saik'uz.

Lack of data prevents me from comparing in detail women's overt political participation in other Carrier communities. Common economic and cultural factors, however, suggest that other Carrier women are probably engaged in the political process in ways similar to the women of Saik'uz. All Carrier reserves are burdened by the same conditions of political-economic marginality that are the material foundation of female autonomy. Women of other reserves aiso share a common cultural heritage that places high value on female fecundity, nurture, and wisdom.

As I have demonstrated, when women are allowed to speak, and are listened to, we gain new understanding of their social and political lives. Saik'uz women do not see themselves as subordinate to the men; nor do they choose to accept

1 Description of female labour is difficult due to the ambiguities, contradictions and gaps in Hudson's account. While insisting throughout his description of contemporary bush production that resource activities "replicate activities carried out by their male ancestors" (1983:164) and that for each village a "group of males possesses, occupies and exploits.a given territory" (184), Hudson makes little effort to describe men's work, and in the end it appears that women do as much if not more bush labour than men do.

2 Hudson describes this as family production but I am informed by woman from this band that "that's mostly for the women to do just like the salmon."

365 secondary places in the community. Women uphold strong, assertive behaviour

as a female ideal and show deference to female elders who have proven political

abilities.

Women who are politically active perceive themselves as strong, competent

individuals charged with a special responsibility to "look after the people." They

may feel they are more competent than their male kin and may have higher

aspirations for their daughters and grand-daughters than for sons or grandsons.

They assume responsibilities to maintain a traditional Carrier lifeway and to protect

that life style from further state intrusion into resource use. They are willing and able

to confront unfair state practices and to challenge local misconceptions of their

resource use. In their mind, women's business includes all the concerns of their

people: women's business is their cultural past and their socio-economic future.

Conclusions

The findings of this study point to the need for new directions in the analysis of gender relations and the political processes of reserve communities. Theoretical formulations are needed that will take into account the simple fact that women and men are visible and active in the public domain. Inquiries must be directed towards the differences and similarities in women's and men's political interventions and the ways in which the two are interconnected.

The nature of gender relations and political activity in communities marginal to capitalism have been analyzed from three difference theoretical frameworks, each of which raises its own sets of questions and answers. The first, material analysis,

366 seeks an economic basis for women's status. The second, cultural analysis, searches for ideological foundations for women's status in cultural traditions with persisting reverence for women's reproductive abilities and ascribed supernatural powers. The third, which is used rarely in studies of women's status and political activity, is the processual analysis of local-level politics. This approach focuses on the social relations and events that unfold in the determination and implementation of public goals.

Materialist analyses have taken two directions. The first has assumed that capitalist development automatically erodes women's status by separating economic relations into public and private spheres. The findings of this study refute this position and provide support for the alternate argument: in conditions of political- economic marginality a domestic sector of production exists along side capitalist production, mitigating the distinction between public and private realms. Because the domestic sector is organized around kinship and the creation of use-values in a fashion consistent with aboriginal productive relations, this mode of production protects or even enhances women's personal autonomy and social influence.

As I discussed in the preceding chapter, this argument has considerable merit.

Its primary assumption about the relation between domestic authority and women's ability to exercise coercive social power has been verified by a number of studies.

Nonetheless, in its present development, material analysis is limited by its focus on the socio-economic structures that shape the general nature of a female/male dichotomy to the exclusion of analyses of the daily events which constitute the

367 political process.

The second approach, cultural analysis, has been shown to suffer from a similar weakness. I have argued that Carrier cultural values provide both motivation for and justification of women's public intervention. Carrier cultural constructions of female reproduction and nourishing are prerequisite to women's high esteem and the value men place on female kin. What cannot be gleaned from this cultural interpretation, however, are the specific nature of women's political strategies and the social consequences of their political activities.

The analysis of the political processes in which women are equal participants presents special challenges. It requires moving away from common assumptions of female subordination to analytical models that expose the complex, and often contradictory, structural relations between women and men as women occupy a variety of social positions. In seeking to understand women's roles in the political process, I turned to Bailey's analogy of political games characterized by team competition and merged with it his concept of the para-political structure. Through this approach was I able to analyze the underlying social organization and interpersonal transactions that link the few, elite women, who form the core of their kin-based political units, to their female and male followers. I was able to illustrate the central position of the women's parapolitical structure within the community's political process and the critical functions women perform in managing the corporate resources of their community.

My analysis has led me to conclude that the popular reputation of female

368 leadership in Saik'uz is well deserved. Women provide leadership to their

community within four distinct social spheres: extended family units, kin-based outfits

(the critical factional units) the community at large, and provincial aboriginal political

forums. In the family realm, senior women assume responsibility for domestic

provisioning and interpersonal harmony. Elite women who lead the voluntary

associations extend their responsibilities to seeking sources of employment for their

kin and to maintaining and promoting family esteem. Although voluntary

associations offer the means to promote family interests, they are by no means

limited to this. Rather, the political and financial resources of the associations are

skillfully managed to the benefit of the community.

Women's political behaviour is not restricted to family or outfit interests, nor is it

always congruent with the interests of the community as a whole. Women do face

tensions and structural limitations imposed upon them by men. Despite the

contentious battle for prestige and power enjoined through the associations, the fact that they remain gender-specific structures means that women have retained a voice for themselves. They can and do operate as independent political entities. And with their long-standing experience of working together, even the contending elite women

are able to draw together on issues of common concern to women. They step outside the political process as defined by the state and by traditions of factionalism to wage common battle. It is not always easy to predict when and why women will unite, but when they do it is under the leadership of elite women of the factional outfits.

369 Although women have developed new social rules for assembling contending groups, whose membership is constructed on gender interests, enduring political divisions between women and men are unlikely. Women's social power derives from their influence in their matrifocal kin groups. The strength of female leadership lies in the support of men and women who recognize and rely on the exceptional personal abilities of a few.

Women of Saik'uz are committed first to social change in the interests of their community and second to aboriginal people as a whole. They assign the highest priority to the struggle for survival of their cultural heritage and for their right to self- determination. And so they take their place as community leaders.

The future of female leadership at Saik'uz is, nevertheless, open to speculation.

The vulnerability of Indian communities to state intervention and cultural interference cannot be ignored. A small reserve community without an independent economic base, Saik'uz is subject to myriad pressures and conflicts created by larger powers.

In the past, external forces strove to undermine women's social status and personal esteem and so created deep social divisions and personal tensions between men and women. The capacity of the state to create new schisms is all too apparent.

However internal events or external forces may affect female leadership, it cannot be forgotten that Saik'uz women are assertive individuals who have proven their capacity to build their own power bases. It is unlikely that succeeding generations of women would wish to do otherwise.

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