My name is Thomas Snow, and like other First Nations students, my educational journey has been a difficult one.
Not once did I ever meet another non-First Nations student who had to deal with the situations that I had to face, year after year.
Despite the hurdles, I am now a University of Calgary graduate with a bachelor of arts degree.
I am from the Stoney Nakoda Nation and, as proud as I am of our nation, I also understand the realities of our present situation. Week after week we gather together to mourn our dead. Suicide runs rampant like floodwaters and our leadership struggles to deal with the aftershocks of generations of colonization and oppression.
And yet, through this struggle, we have continued to survive, thrive and, occasionally, rise above the challenges and break through the reservation boundaries.
I have known loss, hunger, depression, high-school expulsion, exhaustion, parenthood, family and friend’s funerals, separation, homelessness and witnessed first-hand the devastating effects of alcohol and drug addiction. I also know that there is a way to succeed in spite of what lies against us. My story speaks to our resilience, our strength and also to our historic sense of pride and community spirit. To the warrior spirit, which carries us forward into the darkest storms, bringing us through, stronger, wiser and more confident in our abilities. This warrior spirit is within us and runs through our veins and into our hearts. It cannot be beaten out of us. We are Nakodabi and we will rise.
The university’s Native Centre hosts a graduation banquet and powwow to honour its graduates. It is a unique ceremony and process, which honours the graduates in a more traditional style than the university’s convocation ceremony.
It is an incredibly moving experience and brings together graduates, their families and the entire community to recognize the achievements of the students while reinforcing the idea that when one of us succeeds, we all succeed.
During the powwow, graduates are presented eagle feathers, the highest honour that can be given. The process can feel overwhelming and in the following passage I share my own reflections following the ceremony:
“During the honour song, I remember thinking that I will never again be here in this moment. So I closed my eyes. I wanted to remember this moment, this night, for the rest of my life. I could hear the sounds of the drums, the excitement and energy of the crowd, feel the heat of the people around me, and the movement of the air, warm and fast, flowing off bodies and riding the beat of the drums, which echoed in my heart. I've never been good at keeping time, but in this moment the drumbeat and my heart beat as one. Afterwards, I remember the weight of the feather and the soft ribbon it was wrapped in. It felt heavy in my hand, like it had soaked up the power and medicine in the room and was loaded, ready for me to carry into the world. I remember my first owl dance and the way she smiled, beautifully keeping perfect time as she floated across the dance floor. I remember the flashing lights, cameras and camera phones, and the proud looks of the people behind them. The proud Stoney women who danced with me, having seen me grow from a reckless teenager running with gangsters to a graduate; who always supported me no matter what my brothers and I had done. I often asked myself over the years, "Why me?" I replied, "Because I can." Many of my brothers and sisters could not be there. So I danced for them and held my head high, like I knew they would have wanted me to, back when we were fighting for respect, unable to recognize our oppression or find a way out of our oppressed state. They continue to fight, and I do as well. We just have different battles. I imagined that this sense of honor was what warriors in the past must have felt, before the disease and the reservations, and the residential schools. This was what so many of my brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, and friends from other nations were denied. So I danced for them and held my head high, raised my feather and gave my war cry for all the times I was crying inside, feeling denied and incapable of success. This was the moment that I had been working toward since I was a child, playing outside my grandmother’s log house with my cousins. I was now an educated proud Stoney man and warrior for my people. I earned my feather the way feathers are supposed to be earned, through sacrifice, dedication, hunger and humility. I never forgot where I had come from. I was made stronger by my journey and the ability to forgive those who had harmed me, to learn from my mistakes and most importantly, to celebrate my successes and those of my people. Life is a gift and time is precious. Cherish it.”
In the future, I look to continue my education and pursue a master’s degree and, one day, obtain a Ph.D.
I have always believed that education can be used to create positive changes in our community, especially when educated people lead by example. I humbly wish to be a positive role model for others to follow.
Pina Mabich, (Thank you).
Thomas Snow, B.A.
