Embracing Elders as 'gifts to the community'

The way some people see it, getting old comes with a line drawn in the sand.

A distinction between a vibrant, purposeful life shifted by time into one where value drops as the clock ticks forward.

Roy Bear Chief doesn’t see it that way.

The former Elder-in-residence at MRU recognizes life comes with precious lessons and the younger generation can turn to Elders to find them.

“They’re considered knowledge-holders,” he says. “Because that person has lived a long life and has many knowledge(s) . . . you can go to that person. I often say, as a knowledge-keeper, I can share with you what I know.”

As a youth, Bear Chief spent a decade in a residential school, torn from his family and the opportunity to have Elders in his day-to-day life.

Despite being forbidden to speak his Blackfoot language, the only one he knew, Bear Chief managed to keep it alive by talking with other children, including some of his siblings, in secret moments away from supervisors.

Still, many decades later, he says there “was a gap taken away from us and we will never get it back.”

As Bear Chief continues to catch up on those stolen years, he turns to those wise with age — reconnecting with the culture he was born into by looking to Elders to teach him cultural ways he was deprived of during his formative years.

“I was reborn into my culture and was listening intently to Elders and reabsorbing that knowledge,” Bear Chief says.

Today, Bear Chief (who was recently bestowed an honorary doctorate by MRU) considers himself one of those knowledge-keepers.

“I look at myself as a contemporary Elder,” he explains. “I still speak the language but I’m also still short on my culture. I lost a lot in residential school. I’m glad the system didn’t take my language away. If you are born into the language and it’s the only one you know or speak or understand, it’s pretty hard to lose it even though you are punished for it.”

On the MRU campus, Bear Chief, who was born on Siksika Nation, works in the Faculty of Health, Community and Education where he is often referred to as “Espoom tah,” meaning helper. He’s at an interesting phase in life — as both an Elder with something to share and one who learns from Elders himself.

Standing before a crowd and making a presentation, Bear Chief says he can feel his heart beat a bit quicker when he sees Blackfoot Elders in the audience, hoping they will approve.

“They are my evaluators,” he says.

While every Elder has a unique role, all are respected in the Siksika community. They are a priority.

“When food is served, it’s a big no-no to let them get their own food,” he says. “I listen to older people when they talk. I tell young people to be a sponge when you are around, absorb everything you hear . . . look, listen and learn.”

Bear Chief shakes his head when he sees an older man or woman not getting that sort of consideration. Standing at the end of a long line at the bank, for instance, he wonders why Elders are treated that way when he believes they ought to have a special line or be escorted to the teller ahead of everyone else.

“In Siksika there is respect for Elders and there is a different protocol of how they are approached,” he says. “You look after him or her and they are not to stand in the back of the line.”

At 76, Bear Chief says he enjoys that kind of respect — which goes both ways.

“I’m experiencing it. At MRU they refer to me as ‘Elder Roy,’ ” he says. “If you get respect you have to show it to others. It’s called reciprocity.”

He appreciates the opportunity to be seen as a real-life resource. And while some cultures regard older people as “just ordinary” folk who “don’t have anything of significance” to share, he embraces it as a gift for the entire community.

“For us, it’s just a continuation of giving to the community. We respect what they have accumulated,” he says. “It’s not something everyone recognizes.”

Adeline Gladu, 38, cherishes the role of Elders and the wisdom they offer within her life.

Gladu is Southern Tutchone and Beaver Cree who didn’t have grandparents growing up. While other relatives, like her grandma’s sister, loved her dearly, she feels a sense of loss missing out on growing from the wisdom of those Elders.

“I’ve always yearned for that elderly love, someone to look up to,” says Gladu, a graduate of MRU’s Broadcasting Diploma program who is now a second-year student in the Bachelor of Communication — Journalism and Digital Media program. “I’ve always said it’s so important to follow their footsteps. They are our histories. They know what happened back in the day, so it’s important to keep that alive or it’s gone forever.

“They play a key role in our survival as an Indigenous person in terms of hunting, harvesting stories or living in society. I was always taught to respect my Elders and to watch and learn what they have to offer.”

John Fischer, interim associate vice-president in the Office of Indigenization and Decolonization, says older people in his culture are a valuable resource, a “library of knowledge and understanding.”

“In our way, Elders are looked upon as our databases,” says Fischer, an urban Cree and member of Cowessess First Nation. “In older terms, perhaps, filing cabinets. They are who we are. They are our past, our present and also our future.”

Elders are valued for being who they are but also for the ways they can contribute to the rich history unique to their communities.

“We need to recognize there are many Indigenous cultures and they are not the same. Perhaps one thing we share is our perspective and care and respect for Elders in our community and beyond,” he says. “Young people helping older people, deferring to older people, serving older people food, making sure they can get to point A in daily life and when it comes to feast and ceremonies people take care of the Elders. It’s to show them how much they are respected and the gift they are bringing us. It’s part of the way we live in the community.”

As his hair greys, Fischer is seeing what it’s like to receive that honour from both Indigenous and non-Indigenous, some holding doors open for him, others making way for him to go to the front of the queue.

It all nourishes a sense of belonging and continued purpose for people whose value can often be diminished as the years go by.

“The Elders in our community are not put aside and expected to stay away from us,” he says. “They are still part of what we do on a regular basis. They are not put out to pasture.

“I think understanding where the roles of Elders can enhance indigenization and decolonization and knowing how to engage people properly and respectfully would definitely do that.”

Bear Chief says the knowledge that can be gleaned from seniors can be overlooked at times, even in his own community.

Several years ago he was in a gathering in Siksika Nation where people were discussing language. He recalled someone standing up and pointing out there are apps to assist with learning the language.

“We have a lot of walking apps,” he says, referring to Elders who hold that knowledge. “Someone who can teach you.”