When Aboriginal women walk away from abuse, they often walk alone. Many are lost, separated, or totally dispossessed from their communities, families, and children. Having already been subjected to intimate violence, they continue to be plagued by systemic abuse. Hundreds of years of colonization, introduction of patriarchal spirituality, residential school systems, and the Indian Act, to name a few, have relegated Aboriginal women to the bottom of Canadian society. Increasing poverty and decreasing life expectancy impact Aboriginal women and their children daily. We are 20 years behind in education and comprise the minority of any workforce, institution, or organization.

All northern women who experience intimate violence contend with large geographical distances to reach a point of safety, and the cost of transporting their whole family is often unaffordable. Even if they reach safety, legal services (such as legal aid, lawyers who accept legal aid, court hearings for interim custody, and Justices of the Peace) are difficult to access. It was only this year, after an eight-year absence, that a new JP was located in my community. Native child-protection agencies are under-staffed, and workers must handle large case loads, and at times serve more than one jurisdiction. Applicants for geared-to-income housing must mail their forms 300 kilometres (faxes not accepted) and wait for a mail-back response before they are put on a wait list. Housing applications require birth certificates, photo ID, health card, social insurance number, and proof of income/assets (bank statements). If women have not left home with the ID they will require, it can prolong the processing of their applications. Some women become frustrated with this process and see returning home as their only realistic option. Others move in with relatives or friends, where they are overcrowded, lack any sense of privacy or ownership, and often feel they are placing themselves and their children at risk of absolute homelessness. Again, they may see returning to and putting up with the violence as their only real option.

For Aboriginal women, the problems are often compounded. Women who come from reserves are often contending with culture shock in relocating to rural and urban settings. Some communities offer Aboriginal services to help with this, but others do not. Moreover, Native styles of parenting often conflict with non-Native approaches to child care, and women may be judged as neglectful. Obstacles and barriers can be even more intense for women who are related to the Chief, Council members, or band employees. For women who live on reserve and have no resources of their own, any plan to leave requires assistance from the band administration. In this situation, women frequently find they have nowhere to run to for confidential, safe refuge.

Over the years, attempts have been made toward addressing the unique concerns of northern and Aboriginal women experiencing violence in their intimate relationships. In 1992-93, women’s ad hoc committee to provide cultural training to workers in northwestern shelters. In the early ‘90s, the Ontario Association of Interval and Transition Houses (OAITH) implemented an anti-racism committee, which has given Aboriginal women a voice and recognition, and remains steadfast in keeping the membership accountable through anti-racism/anti-oppression work.

Incorporated in 1989 and based in Sioux Lookout, Equay-Wuk is an Aboriginal women’s organization serving women, youth, and families residing in 30 Northwestern Ontario First Nations communities. They have made valiant advancements in community wellness, parenting, employment, and skills programs, and have been working on Nishnawbe Women and Self Government. Since 1992, they have held workshops and conferences on advancing women in political leadership. A significant, recent success was the passage of a resolution at the 2002 Nishnawbe Aski Nation Chiefs-In-Assembly meeting to have women represented at the meetings. The next step will be to win women a vote at the table. They continue to discuss ways to increase women’s participation in Aboriginal governance structures.

In the meantime, boards of directors for shelters and VAW organizations must continue to recognize the importance of developing and implementing anti-racism/anti-oppression policies. Women’s organizations must ensure they have Aboriginal representation and/or show blatant support for Aboriginal women’s groups who are doing lobby and advocacy work to ensure that the voices of Aboriginal women are heard at every level of government. A significant next step within the VAW movement will be specific training programs for Aboriginal women who choose to work in shelters. These must be designed and facilitated by Aboriginal women with the distinct needs of Aboriginal women in mind.

At the same time, it must be recognized that Aboriginal women who enter into political or advocacy work too often pay a dear price in health and well being. At times, separated from family and community, it can feel like the life of an exile. Grief issues are constant and often the catalyst for Native women becoming politically involved. One time at a native organization’s annual gathering, I noticed that every woman making a presentation spoke of a significant loss: “when my son killed himself last year” or “when my daughter was killed” or “when my grandchildren died.” I found it appalling and heartbreaking that so many Aboriginal women do not begin their work through a simple choice but are moved into it by significant and devastating personal experiences. Moving VAW work within Aboriginal and northern communities forward must include attention to our past losses, present health, and future wellness.

A Cheyenne proverb states, “A nation is not conquered until the hearts of its women are on the ground. Then it is done, no matter how brave its warriors or how strong its weapons.” Our hearts are not on the ground. Our feet are. And we are moving forward. u

Gloria Harris is the Executive Director of Marjorie House in Marathon, on the north shore of Lake Superior. She has been active locally, regionally, provincially, nationally, and internationally while sitting on boards and committees including legal, housing, and women’s organizations, and in police, hospital, and First Nations sectors. In July, she completed a three-year term as Deputy Chief for her First Nation, the Missanabie Cree. Gloria credits her longevity to strong family ties and the dedicated board members and shelter staff she has worked with during her 18 years at Marjorie House.