Seeking truth

Two views on the Buffy Sainte-Marie ancestry story

I remember how Buffy Sainte-Marie made me feel.

I come to the same place again and again. Remember, my dear Indigenous brothers and sisters, how you felt at a Buffy concert or when she unexpectedly came on the radio as you were driving and you were exhilarated by the incontestable power of her voice? Remember when she came on “Sesame Street” and we felt such a swell of pride? Remember when she said yes to this organization or that community and came to play for fundraisers for causes close to our hearts at no cost but travel expenses? That feeling does not go away; that feeling does not change.

I feel like I’m writing a eulogy, a feeling reminiscent of times of great loss. In each of those times, I understood that the eulogy’s purpose was to offer comfort to the ones experiencing the loss, not the one lost to them. It is not our place to judge. We raise the loving memories — the reminders of why this person, now gone, was so special.

Regardless of her possible deception, Buffy Sainte-Marie had a profound effect on the way non-Indigenous people perceive and relate to Indigenous people. Her cradleboard project and her Nihewan Foundation are just two examples of what she has given us. And that does not change.

I’m not saying these things to defend Buffy, but rather to recognize that we don’t have to disbelieve or discredit our experiences with her and what she gave us. Buffy will never again be the person she was to us for all

these years, but what she has given us does not just dissolve. Those are our feelings, our ways of expression. My wish is that we can comfort and be comforted by that.

It’s also important to acknowledge Buffy’s relationship with her Piapot family. She was accepted, embraced and adopted into that family and community; she is what I consider the equivalent of a naturalized citizen of that community, and her acceptance there is entirely in their hands. However, this cannot be taken to mean that Buffy suddenly became Indigenous by virtue of her adoption there, but that she is their relative by way of protocol and customary adoption. That is not subject to public scrutiny.

Indigenous means what was here on Turtle Island, be it flora or fauna, before European colonization. That is not something that can be given or taken by any means. Ultimately, to try to take an Indigenous identity is to try to occupy a space that is meant, by Creator, for another. Taking that space removes it from the reach of those it’s intended for, and perhaps we feel a little complicit in that. It’s important to understand that this is a quietly violent act with sometimes shocking outcomes.

Buffy was our sister, our Kokum, our Auntie, our colleague, our friend. She stood for us and with us and worked for us tirelessly. How can we not feel bereaved? It’s as though the earth has shifted beneath our feet and this person we loved so wholeheartedly is gone; this version of Buffy the icon has, in effect, died. The response to this has rippled across Turtle Island in the form of anger, disbelief and soul-deep sadness. How could we feel any other way?

As we walk on through the wreckage of what we thought was real, I hope that we can remember the power that was there regardless of her deception. I hope we can hold strong to the understanding that Buffy’s effect doesn’t go away. But Buffy does.

Often, in challenging times, my mother encouraged me to “be brave.” It was a gift from her; an uplifting wish, an expression of faith that I could brave my way through whatever adversity I was facing. I hope with all my heart that we can be this to each other. Let kindness be a tonic; a medicine to wash away the bitterness and betrayal we feel. Let us look at our loved ones and see how wonderful they and you are in each other’s reflection. Let there be a groundswell of love to overwhelm the hurt and anger.

The Creator sees everything and there is a higher justice beyond.

Yes, what goes away is our sister, our Kokum, our Auntie, our colleague, our friend. But alongside our grief, may we look to all the beautiful sisters, Kokums, Aunties, colleagues and friends we are surrounded by.

MICHELLE GOOD IS THE AUTHOR OF “TRUTH TELLING: SEVEN CONVERSATIONS ABOUT INDIGENOUS LIFE IN CANADA,” AND THE BESTSELLING NOVEL “FIVE LITTLE INDIANS,” WHICH WON ALMOST EVERY MAJOR LITERARY PRIZE IN THE COUNTRY. SHE IS A MEMBER OF THE RED PHEASANT CREE NATION.