Sandi L. Boucher (Red Thunderbolt, Loon clan, Seine River First Nation) reflects on how her white father provided a protective ‘shield’ during her childhood, which ‘shattered’ after his death at age 17. She contrasts the acceptance she experienced within her family with widespread societal racism and stereotypes toward Indigenous women, emphasizes the reality of white privilege and everyday discrimination (including references to MMIWG), and urges non-Indigenous listeners to understand this lived reality as part of reconciliation.
Chapters
Foreign. Hello again, everyone. Sandy Boucher here once again. I'm Red Thunderbolt, woman of the Loon clan, a proud member of Seine River First Nation in Treaty 3 Territory in Northern Ontario. And today we're going to continue the discussion of my dad. On June 11th would have been his birthday, even though he's been gone a long time now. My dad, I believe, was the foundation I had. So I'm able to do this work as Anishinaabe Kwe, as an Indigenous woman. Trust me when I say it is not easy to stand in front of an audience of non indigenous people if they are not open to hearing you or believing in what you have to share. I have made a career out of sharing the Indigenous perspective. Not to judge or condemn. I'm not into shame or guilt, but to build understanding. But if people are going to sit there with judgment and condemnation or they want us to be ashamed, and there are still so many in modern day that are like that, then it's really, really hard. And it was my dad's influence that made me strong enough to be able to do that work. And what I wanted to touch on today was the concept of white privilege. Because there was way too many people out there that still don't believe that's a thing, that it's a reality. And I am well aware of how much white privilege I have. I've always had it. And now that I lighten my hair even more so if I wasn't to wear the beads and cover up my tattoos, yeah, I've got white privilege. I know it's. And what was very obvious in my life, and I take this as a gift, an opportunity, a level of understanding that many people were not afforded. I mentioned yesterday, my father was French from St. Jerome, Quebec, and my dad was a white male. And because of that, I grew up feeling accepted and loved for who I was. My skin color did not play into it. My mom was dark and my dad wasn't and it didn't matter. I was valued for my straight A's and for my opinion. And no one was telling me to be quiet or shush. But then the shield shattered. And that's what this blog post is called, because I lost my dad when I was only 17. And of course, that's right at the age where a young woman is going to start dating. And it quickly became very obvious to me that a lot of non indigenous men do not look at indigenous women the same way my dad looked at my mom. The respect wasn't there, the value wasn't There the stereotypes that indigenous women are just to be used and thrown away and that we won't even care that that's all we were good for, is very alive and well. And if you don't believe me, I happen to be single. And it's amazing how often the most racist stereotypes are thrown at me just because I dare to say no to the advances of a non indigenous person. Now are they all like that? Of course not. That would be a stereotype. I'm definitely not going to promote that. But white privilege exists and I had the, like I said, the opportunity, the gift, the privilege of living in a white privilege protected bubble for 17 years and then quickly learned what it was like not to have that protective bubble. Now I'm at the stage where I've healed enough and I'm empowered enough and confident enough that even those insane comments thrown at me don't get into the bubble that I've erected. But it's a reality. So if you're out there and this is what non indigenous and our allies really need to understand because you have no idea what it's like to walk in this country as indigenous, you can walk into a bank, people are going to assume you're there to deposit money and withdraw money or opening an account. If an indigenous person, especially someone darker than me, walks in or is even nicely dressed, people make assumptions like why are they there? Like where did they get that money from? Did they get it illegally? And why are they dressed so nice? Do they have to go to court? Now that may sound shocking to you, and that's my point, because it's not shocking to us. It's a never ending constant. That's what has to change if we're going to get near reconciliation. Because you shouldn't need a shield just because you're indigenous and don't tell me that we don't is missing and murdered indigenous women and girls is a reality and I wish those women had had a shield. I hope that makes sense. Comments below. I would love to hear your thoughts. Till tomorrow. Take care of you. I love you. Bye bye.
