Salmon Summit 3

Salmon Summit 3

/0 Comments/in , , /by

The Salmon Summit has been held in Listuguj for three years now. It was created to bring people and organizations with interests in the Restigouche watershed together.

Over the course of two days, Salmon Summit 3 was held at the Bingo Hall. Discussions and focus group sessions were held, showing the amount of work and data that needs to be analyzed and shared.

The summit began as a means to talk about the diverse relationships with the salmon, but is now growing into a truly collaborative approach to managing and protecting the water, and all that it sustains.

There are people like Carole-Anne Gillis, a cost-shared fisheries biologist, working for several organizations, to gather information and understand Everything from stock assessments, to testing fish for viruses or bacterial infections.

“We’re doing a lot of basic fundamental research,” Gillis said. “To answer questions that we can then follow through with management.”

The benefit of the summit, is various groups can work toward mutually beneficial goals. The first step, however, is Identifying the challenges to achieving them.

“Discussion groups today were about identifying them,” said Kirt Dedam, the Aboriginal Fisheries Strategy Coordinator, with Listuguj Fisheries. “How can we work toward solutions? So that everybody – when they go away today, will have something to work towards.”

The hope is that people can return next year, for Salmon Summit 4, and say they followed through with their commitments.

“This is how we want to keep growing this thing,” Dedam said.

The summit has always been intended to serve multiple purposes. Representing the Aboriginal perspective has always been one of the key goals. Dedam believes a lot of people were taking this perspective away with them this year.

“There’s a lot of talk about ‘two-eyed seeing,’” Dedam said. “Seeing from a western science and an Aboriginal perspective too. But how do you blend the two?  So I think that’s one of the things that people get from these meetings. Plus, we learn more about the science that’s going on, which is important too. ”

A main focus has always been building relationships and trust among the various groups, and Dedam was pleased to see a lot of participation this year.

Discussions around what the future may hold for the summit has also begun.

“We’re starting to expand our view,” Dedam said. “And where we want to go with this is maybe inviting other watersheds in the area, from other provinces, other communities, other First Nations, and start being more inclusive, and keep growing this.”

Photo by Denise Barnaby

The importance of thermal refuges for Salmon

/0 Comments/in /by

Salmon are sensitive to everything in the environment, even relatively small differences in the  the temperature of the water.

“Anything above 23 celsius, they have a hard time doing their biological function,” said Carol-Anne Gillis, a cost-shared biologist, working with the GMRC, the Listuguj Fisheries, and the Restigouche River Watershed Management Council (RRWMC).

She is working on the Strategic Management of Thermal Refuges in the Restigouche River Watershed project. They are looking at preserving – and enhancing – areas of cold water in the river that the salmon tend to hang around. These are important areas, at several different stages in their life cycle of the salmon.

If you ever travelled down the Restigouche River, and stepped out of your canoe into surprisingly cold water – you’re not crazy. There can be as much as a 10 degree difference in some places. There are now 1,825 classified “thermal refuges” identified.

There are “seeps,” where groundwater seeps into the river, and there are “confluence plumes”  where streams meet the main river, and start to spread out. Often, the cold water from a stream will meet the river, and be pushed to the side.

“So you might have this cold water space, but it’s only like a foot wide, and it’s on the shoreline,” said Gillis.

Part of Gillis’ work is to find ways to enhance these confluence plumes.

“What we can also do is create these instream structures where you can kind of, either give more energy to the small stream, so it can have a bigger space for fish in the main stem,” she said. “It’s kind of alike a cone. So instead of having a streamline of cold water on the shore line, hugging the shore line, well you can divert it, and create a bigger cone of cold water. So there’s more volume for fish.”

The seeps are a little more complicated to protect. They are protected the same way many other aspects of the river’s health is maintained – managing nearby land use.

Training the next round of firefighters

/0 Comments/in /by

The last time Listuguj had a firefighter training course was roughly 15 years ago. As years passed the number of firefighters we had slowly dropped. “We keep on getting volunteers that quit, every year,” said Garry Caplin, Listuguj Fire Chief.

After several attempts to establish a training course, the program finally had enough applicants to move forward this year. This round of firefighters could potentially expand our Fire Station here in Listuguj.

In September the program started with 10 recruits. The training runs for a total of 10 weeks, ending in the second week of December. During this time, the trainees are put through vigorous training routines.

When working with emergency services, minutes can save lives. The training will prepare the recruits to meet those standards of readiness, and to handle the stress from whichever emergency they may respond to.

“I was kinda nervous at first, then I started learning more about it,”  said Tyrone Metallic, a current recruit.

The recruits had many live training exercises during the program so far.  One morning, a fire drill was held at the LMDC, recruits entered the building, checking for anyone inside. It gave them a chance to test some of what they were learning.

Before responding to an emergency, the recruits have to be experienced with many things, including PPE (Personal Protective Equipment), the SCBA (Self-contained breathing apparatus), and they also have to be able to get fully equipped in 60 seconds.

“I thought there was just a basic firefighter,” said Jacob Arsenault, another recruit. “You run in the burning building. No — there’s so many different jobs, tvhen there’s more training … there is the E.M.T training, then E.M.S training, all that first responder stuff.”

Hydrant connections, forward & reverse lay, using ladders, hoisting tools — those are a few of the many operations recruits have to learn. After the course finishes, recruits will be certified first responders. Bringing in new firefighters for our station is great progress.

“The long term goal is to have a couple battalions where we can split our crew with the fire department, also get new recruits, and to build our station even bigger than what it is now,” said Caplin.

The new recruits have been getting involved for all sorts of different reasons.
“I didn’t have a main interest in being a firefighter, specifically,” said Metallic. “I just knew that in emergency situations  … I wanna be able to help people, rescue people.”

“It’s one of those old kid dreams I guess,” said Arsenault. “You know, you want to be a firemen or a police officer, or a Lawyer or something. So I just ran with it, and fell in love with it instantly.”

 

Tanya Barnaby and Christine Metallic of Families First Support Services.

Traditional Parenting: Helping people heal together

/0 Comments/in /by

The Traditional Parenting Program offers a supportive group, without judgement, for anyone struggling with any aspect of parenting. Coordinators Tanya Barnaby and Christine Metallic try to offer tools, but ultimately, the group develops on its own. It’s been more effective than one-on-one counselling.

“Things that you would not normally see in one-to-one … you will see it in a group,” said Metallic. “I always find the group has more meaning.”

The program offered by Families First Support Services becomes a support network. People share experiences,  while coordinators try to find information and resources to help.

The group starts in the fall, and progress through the winter months together, every week at the same time.

“Surprisingly, interestingly, they are all committed to that  process,” said Barnaby. “And it’s a long process.”

The basic structure of a meeting is simple — opening prayer, time to check in with everyone, a topic of discussion, another discussion on how that information may relate to your life, and then a closing circle.

“As the weeks go on, we present less, and they bring up the issues and we have a discussion,”  said Metallic. “We really try hard for confidentiality and safety. Once we build that, then the shift changes where the participants end up running the group, and we’re just giving them information.”

The program started five years ago. Without entirely reinventing the wheel, Traditional Parenting used the experiences of similar groups out west, and responded to a growing need in the community.

“There was a need for helping support families in another way that was more culturally relevant,” said Barnaby.

The program changes a bit from to year to year, as they gather more feedback, and they use all the tools they can. An understanding the intergenerational impacts of trauma has often proved to be useful.

“It’s understanding our history,” said Metallic. “And allowing  families to have an understanding that — some of this stuff may not necessarily be theirs. It could be their grandparents, it could be their parents. But by taking a look at this — you don’t have any excuse why you can’t change and be a better parent.”

Barnaby and Metallic remember one woman showing up, unsure of herself, looking like “a deer in the headlights.”

Overtime, the counsellors got to know her and her true personality. The “vivacious” personality that was often stifled, and told to “calm down,”   was appreciated and accepted by the group.  She became comfortable being herself, and started trusting her abilities.

“For her to take that quality as a gift, as oppose to something that should be stifled,” said Barnaby. “For her to find that she has self-worth, that she is worthy, and that she can do stuff for herself and her son … it makes it worthwhile for us.”

‘Nnui’sultinej Let’s speak Mi’gmaq

/0 Comments/in , /by

There is a red line at the Listuguj Education Complex that can’t be missed.  The line divides three classrooms from the rest of the building, creating the only English-free zone in Listuguj. Anyone crossing that line has to speak only in Mi’gmaq.

The line is more than red tape on the floor.  It is a compelling symbol of the protection of the Mi’gmaq language that evolved on this territory for thousands of years, but is now vulnerable.

There was never such a “language line” in Listuguj.  Maybe that’s the reason why in the last 50 years the English language had entered the homes, stayed there and with time, displaced  Mi’gmaq as the main language.  Those were the times when Canada’s assimilation policies forced Aboriginal peoples across Canada into Residential Schools and they were pushed to believe that their culture and their language were unimportant and an obstacle to progress.

Today, that red line in Listuguj represents the last stronghold of resistance and decolonization.  On the other side of the line there is a group of teachers and students – men, women and children – learning the language that was used to name the lakes, valleys, mountains, rivers, communities, cities, and plants on this territory.

In the adult section 12 students are committed to learn the Mi’gmaq language five days a week, until March 2017.  Around 800 hours of Mi’gmaq lessons in the classroom as well in the territory. This pilot project was initiated by a grant from Heritage Canada. red-line
After almost 500 years of the arrival and imposition of English and French languages, our Mi’gmaq language is at risk.  According the 2010 UNESCO’s report Mi’gmaq language is considered “vulnerable,” a close step to the endangered category.  However, in Listuguj there is a consensus that our language is in severe decline and it’s necessary to act now.

“Mi’gmaq was declared the official language of Gespe’gewa’gi, but a declaration is not enough.  We need policy, language law and other initiatives to save our language”, said Lorna Sook, Director of the Listuguj Education, Training and Employment.  “We did a survey and we got a lot of suggestions, ideas and we decide to strengthen the immersion programs”.

One of the strategies implemented was to move the AGS Mi’gmaq immersion classes to the Education Complex, the other side of the red line and next to the adult immersion program.

Nathalie Metallic requested a leave from her work at Day Care to learn Mi’gmaq.  As a mother of three children she feels it’s important to pass the language on to them and eventually be able to converse with elders.  She understands Mi’gmaq but like many in the community, she lacks the confidence to speak, something that an immersion program will provide. “I really want to speak it and practice at home with my kids,” she said.

For Scott Isaac, his decision is about identity. “It is part of my decolonization process”, he said. “For 50 years I have been speaking the language of the colonizer and now it is time to speak the language of my ancestors.”  He also sees the possibility of new job opportunities associated with knowledge of the language.

Mary Ann Metallic, Janice Vicaire and Dianne Mitchell are the instructors of the Minuignewa’tu’g ‘Gtli’sutiminu Program.  Their combined work experience for the language is associated with Mi’gmaq Online, research, summers courses, adult classes, teaching sessions at AGS, SSHS, nursery, translation, etc.  They are part of a devoted group of people working in the education system.

Mary Ann Metallic wishes to replicate Quebec’s measures to protect French. “They passed a law to promote the predominance of their language on public signs, at work places, at schools, at public services, etc. It worked for them.”  She sees the importance of taking diverse initiatives and not only leaving the transmission of the language up to the education system.

Janice Vicaire has worked on language programs since 1998. “When I started working we knew the decline of our language and we confirmed it now. Little was done and it was left to teachers or the school,”  she said. “I wish it to be a grassroots movement, from the people, from young parents to learn the language, to pass it to the kids. We need to start a movement to protect our language.”

What will it take to bring back our language, who will do it?  “The preservation of the language has to be the will of the community,” responded Janice Vicaire.

The loss of the language in some Aboriginal communities, including Mi’gmaq has different factors recorded in numerous reports and studies. If the responsibility of its preservation is taken on by speakers and non-speakers living in the community, the participants of the immersion programs at the Education Complex will feel supported.  That is the kind of environment that Diane Mitchell remembers as a young girl.  “In Listuguj the language was just spoken naturally, we were spoken to exclusively in Mi’gmaq. That kind of environment allowed the passing on of the language naturally. I grew up in a generation where everyone was a speaker and the exception was English.”

That’s what the immersion program will recreate – a Mi’gmaq-only space in Listuguj. For Mary Ann Metallic “the red line is a symbol of resistance,” she said. “We have to get stronger for our language, we have to regroup forces, we have to isolate, and by concentrating our language in one space it will help to pass it on to the little ones.  They will hear the language more often”.

In fact, visiting Miss Mabel Metallic’s class next door, we can see the children surrounded by Mi’gmaq textbooks, native chants and designs.  Their little voices speaking Mi’gmaq represents the hope for the survival of our Mi’gmaq language.

red-line-sign

Echoes of the Powwow

/0 Comments/in , /by

Every year the Powwow seems to get a little bigger. But that’s not really a priority for the coordinators.

“Our main goal is not to be the biggest, or the best Powwow,” said Lita Isaac, who has been involved since the very first Powwow in 1993. “It’s just for people to get here safely, enjoy their weekend. Dance. Drum.”

That’s a big enough job. Keeping people hydrated alone required over 170 cases of water, which had to be requested — and donated — from local businesses.

“It’s a lot of hard work. We have a small committee,” said Isaac. “But people will approach us and ask, ‘can we help?’”

The whole weekend runs on volunteers. Whether it’s in the weeks and months leading up to it, or those filling all the small, but demanding jobs. Everything from making coffee to directing traffic needs someone giving up their time.

“The Powwow belongs to the community,” said Isaac. “When people step up and offer to help … it might be something small, but it all counts.”

Laura Arsenault has been involved with the Powwow for seven years. She’s now one of the coordinators. “It’s just something for me that I would donate all my time to — even if it was yearlong, I’d still do it,” she said.  “I’m passionate about. It’s the only thing I really volunteer for.”

While she spent this year mostly occupied with the vendors, Arsenault’s favorite job is working the canteen. She gets to meet new people and catch old friends visiting home.

A lot of people plan their vacations around the Powwow, and new people people discover it every year.

This year, over 500 people were fed moose, salmon and fiddleheads on Saturday alone. Isaac says being able to feed everyone is their way of thanking those who come and support Listuguj, and the Powwow.

“It’s building up the pride,” said Isaac.“If somebody leaves the Powwow with a feeling of experiencing a ceremony at the sacred fire, or just praying at the sacred fire, or enjoying the drumming and dancing. Or going to the native crafts and buying something made by somebody from a New Brunswick First, or Quebec, or Listuguj — it’s wonderful … Or just enjoying an indian taco. Leaving with something in their bellies or their heart or soul, it’s the best feeling for us. That’s our aim.”

 

Vilma Almendra, Nasa Nation, Colombia

DSC_4294

It’s nice to feel that with the dances and the presence of the Grand-Father-the-Fire, you are still honoring the spirituality of Indigenous people here. AFN Chief Perry Bellegarde said: “despite colonization they couldn’t kill us and we are still here, alive”.  These strong words, speaks about the ongoing death and life struggle that Indigenous peoples of Turtle Island are facing for many centuries.

 

Garland Joe Augustine, Elsipogtog,Mi’gmaqi

At the first Powwow there were few regalia, few eagle feathers and now we see more drums, more dancers, more children at the Powwow. This mean that people are coming back to their culture and it makes me proud. I come here every year since the first Powwow and they treat us good. I always want to come back.

 

Rene Arsenault, Member of Parliament, Restigouche East—Madawaska Riding

This is my first powwow and it’s nice to sees Natives, Acadians, French and English to meet at the beat of the drums. This is a family gathering. I feel like the Earth vibrates when I see a community that chants, dances and respect Mother Earth.

Jamie Metallic, Listuguj, Mi’gmaqi

This was my first time dancing with my regalia and in my home community. The support of friends and family was overwhelming and makes me feel proud. Looking at them was like looking at a rainbow with all their colors and they were around the circle.  This is a new road for me, physical and spiritual.

 

 

 

Watching over the community

/0 Comments/in , /by

“How are you tonight?” Constable Jacob Renouf asks at a roadblock set up by the Listuguj Police Department (LPD) in front of the Education Complex. It’s near 10:00 PM on Aug. 5 — the start of the Powwow weekend.  Six officers are working, instead of the usual two.

Flares, and the flashing lights notify oncoming traffic. Constable Renouf greets drivers, and explains what they’re doing – just making sure everyone is being safe. The officers quickly shine flashlights in the car, and everything is in order. A few more jokes are made, everyone laughs, and the car continues on.

“How are you tonight,” Constable Renouf asks the next car.  The officers work their way through the line of vehicles that has formed, and then they pack it up. They’ll set up another road block later, but for now they’ll patrol.

Constable Renouf expects to drive the same streets dozens of times throughout his 11-hour shift. He has only been in the community for nearly a year. But he was on duty this time last year. He worked for the Gesgapegiag Police Department, which provided extra help in the past. No other police departments were needed this year. And the Powwow continues to grow.

Sgt. Detective Trapper Metallic has been with the LPD for over 15 years. He grew up here, got a summer job with the LPD, and got his training in Regina at the RCMP Academy, Depot Division.

Sgt. Detective Trapper Metallic has been with the Listuguj Police Department for 15 years.

Sgt. Detective Trapper Metallic has been with the Listuguj Police Department for 15 years.

There were a couple years in his career, around Powwow time, when he would see an influx in incidents.  “Then we started to put some more guys on patrol, and start making it a regular thing annually. Then those stats start to go down.”

Police Chief, Peter Arsenault said that the incidents this year were “almost garden variety.”  “Everything went well,” he said.

While some may see operations like a road block as a nuisance, Arsenault hopes they recognize the true purpose. “I’d like to think that they’re aware that we have their best interest in mind,” he said. “Everyone is entitled to safety.”

Like most of the officers on duty, Sgt. Detective Metallic is also working extra hours, after his regular four-day schedule, through the night.  “To work extra hours is nothing,” he said. “It comes with the territory. Whether you’re 15, 20, 30, 40 – however many years of service you have – you come and work the extra hour, just to make sure that nothing happens. It’s priceless.”

Passing on traditions

/0 Comments/in , /by

Tanner Sage Barnaby, the son of Tara Barnaby and Robby Ouellette, has been salmon fishing for the last six years and he’s only twelve. He leaves the quarry in the middle of a rainy afternoon and when he arrives to the fishing area he slows down the motor to set the net.  A very attentive boy, Tanner drives the boat with the seriousness that his tasks require.

As the rain continues to fall, he stops the boat and initiates a conversation with Aurele Isaac, his mentor.  They talk about the places where other fisherman set their nets. “We have to respect them,” he says. “If you see that one person has a good catch on his place you just can’t come the next time and occupy his location. We have laws and we have to respect them,” he says to Tanner.

This friendship started when Aurele met Tanner one day.  He noticed his interest in the outdoors and he asked if he wanted to fish salmon.  After Tanner accepted, Aurele talked to his mother and told him to be ready early in the morning.  When Aurele went to pick him up at 6:30 am he was there, waiting at the door.Aurele-Ariel
Six years later they are still fishing together.  “I accepted his invitation because Aurele teaches about my culture and he also speaks to me in Mi’gmaq. I like that, I want to keep our traditions going,” said Tanner with a sincere tone.

Aurele grew up fishing, working in the woods, learning the traditions with his father and everything was said in Mi’gmaw. Now it’s his turn to pass them on. “I find it important to pass on the tradition because if we don’t, who will exercise it, who will pass it to the next generation, who will defend it when threatened?” he maintains.

There are few young fishermen on the river today, but not enough to secure a wide practice and knowledge of the tradition of fishing. “Very few of my friends fish for salmon” said Tanner who seems happy on the river. “I learned to drive the boat, clean the net, grab the floats, pull anchors, check the net, use the pole, clean the salmon and to give away my first catch”, he declares.  For any young person these skills take time and practice to learn. “Now, I don’t have to tell him what to do,” says Aurele who feels content to see Tanner learning the skills that allowed the Mi’gmaq to get their sustenance from the river and to maintain the respect for Plamu.

As a kid, Aurele’s father, Isaac Isaac, “Isaacjij” taught him salmon fishing, moose and deer hunting, and ice fishing. His older brother, uncles and other adults also passed on to him that traditional knowledge.  He used to spend two weeks of the Christmas holidays in the woods. Today children have fewer teachings and it worries Aurele. “When I was a kid I had access to a lot of traditional activities and now I feel there isn’t enough of that for the children.  My father told me ‘I will not always be here so you need to learn all these things because you are a Mi’gmaq.’ So it’s up to us men to pass on our traditions,” affirms Aurele.

After the fishing season, Tanner and Aurele will team up again for partridge hunting, rabbit snaring, moose hunting, ice fishing.  “Aurele is a good friend who teaches me a lot.  He’s a good teacher,” says Tanner who is in Grade 7 at AGS.  “Most of my friends don’t go fishing. I only know one kid that goes salmon fishing with his grand-father.”

“I’m amazed by the number of kids who are interested in fishing but sadly for one reason or another their dads don’t take them to the river,” said Aurele who also fishes with his daughter Ariel. “Our traditions are getting weaker and we need to share our knowledge and bring more kids out because they will be the ones defending our rights.  They need to practice traditions to exercise rights. Some communities have negotiated their fishing rights and I don’t it want to happen it here.”

Aurele-Tanner net

Listuguj at the National Youth Summit

/0 Comments/in /by

The 2016 National First Nations Youth Summit on Wellness, held in Niagara Falls, Ontario, hosted  over 200 First Nation youth from communities all across Canada.  Marcy Jacques, Jill Martin and Tyler Morrison represented Listuguj  at the event to learn how other First Nations youth are dealing with different issues in their communities.

The focus of the summit was clear — the well being of First Nations Youth across Canada. The Co-Chairs  that spoke on Mental Wellness expressed that First Nations Youth do have belonging and purpose, and they are not forgotten.

“Those are our future leaders” said Bobby Cameron, Regional Chief for the FSIN. “We encourage them and acknowledge them. They’re all valuable, they’re loved and cared for.”

The facilitator Stan Wesley opened the Summit enthusiastically, calling for a culture of doing the very best you can. “What I tell people, is that when they’re struggling to figure out what they truly want to do, I challenge people — all people — to be good at everything you do, up to this point and forward.”

Nearly a dozen speakers — all renown in their area of expertise — presented to the audience throughout the day. Two conference rooms needed to be joined together to hold an unexpected number of participants. “We prepared for around 150 youth and had almost 300 registered before the event,” said Andre Bear, who became one of two newly elected Co-Chairs of the Assembly of First Nations Youth council on July 10.  “We’ve heard great feedback from the attendees and we were also given a lot of advice on what we can do better for next time.”

The underlying theme of the entire weekend was the importance of wellness in the community — physical wellness, just as much as mental wellness. “Your garbage is my garbage,” said Chief Cadmus Delorme of the Cowessess First Nation, who spoke of the power of encouraging others, uplifting your peers with positive humor, and the fact that one problem within the community can cause an imbalance.

Before lunch “The Youth Walk of Hope” arrived, with weathered shoes, and reflective vests . They had completed their month long journey from Attawapiskat, northern Ontario, to speak with the AFN leaders, which held its 37th Annual General Assembly later that week in Niagara.

Patrick Etherington Jr. (Moose Cree Nation), spoke on behalf of the walkers of the recent struggles happening in the community of Attawapiskat. “I’m very proud of them man” said Etherington “They broke down their barriers that we all have, especially on more isolated reserves up north”

After the morning’s presentations,  all attendees were treated to a catered lunch and “Pow-wow Bootcamp” created by Santee Smith and assisted by Joshua DePerry (AKA Classic Roots). The bootcamp is a high-energy Pow-wow/ Dance training class. Santee Smith wants to promote dance, physical fitness and life affirming body expression while incorporating culture.

The whole Summit lasted one day, and was a welcomed overload of information for those who attended.

“This inaugural gathering showed me that we can create a meaningful change for the lives of all First Nation youth,” said Jill Martin. “Each and every one of us has a voice that needs to be heard.

First-ever in-community university class graduates

/0 Comments/in , /by

As the month and days to graduation grew closer, panic started to set in,” said Sarah Arseneault, in front of the crowd in the Alaqsite’w Gitpu School gym on June 30th.

Sarah is the class-elected valedictorian of the very first University course offered in Listuguj. The Bachelor of Arts in Community Studies (BACS), offered through the Cape Breton University, began in 2013. Nineteen of the original 23 students graduated this year.

“This program was truly a collective achievement,” said Dr. Fred Metallic, at the convocation. “We don’t learn by ourselves, we learn from – and with – each other.”

The number of classes taught by Listuguj teachers is a definite point of pride for those involved in developing the program. There are many points to be proud of.

The program was also tailored specifically for Listuguj. The schedule was meant to accommodate mature students, with all the commitments of adult life. Without saying it outright, the program essentially “Indigenized” mainstream courses. For example  – Mi’gmaq History was offered instead of a standard history course.

“Many students learned for the first time about their Mi’gmaq identity, history, and language,” said Sandra Germain, who assisted in the coordination the BACS program part-time. “All those little pieces help to make the program belong to the students and to the community.”

Germain is also the coordinator of the Mi’kmaq Maliseet Bachelor of Social Work Program (MMBSW) at St. Thomas University. She is passionate about adult learning – having earned her own Masters at 50 years old. Through her experience, she was well aware of some of the obstacles for the community.

“I had been noticing for a number of years that the people in Listuguj had an interest in the Bachelor of Social Work program, however, they did not meet the prerequisites,” she said. The BBSW requires a Bachelor Degree. And earning one use to mean leaving home.

This was part of the motivation to bring a University program to the community, instead of  bringing community members to the universities. And while there was a clear desire to bring in a program – it had to be done right.

“We wanted to maintain control of the program and not simply have them deliver their style of programming in the community,” said Germain. This led to many negotiations, and many aspects still left to improve on.

But Germain calls the BACS program “unprecedented.” The high percentage of graduates makes it clear that the program’s approach has hit on something.

“You can’t compare [traditional programs to] First Nations students working and learning with First Nations students,” Germain said. “I think that’s how we learn best.”

The trend has been set – a second University Degree will be offered in the community, starting this fall. McGill University will be offering a Bachelor of Education. Some of the BACS graduates have enrolled. So clearly the BACS program left a positive impression.

“There might have been times when we wanted to strangle each other,” continued Arseneault, with her classmates in the front rows.  “And we may not have always agreed on things. But when it came down to it, we were there for each other, and always will be.

How amazing is it to have the opportunity of completing a university degree in our own community! Today graduates – we make history. We are showing the people of our community that something like this is possible.”