Never-ending trauma takes toll on Manitoba First Nations

What would it be like to live in a perpetual state of trauma?

Trauma, according to numerous psychiatrists, doctors and scientists, is like memory.

Caused by singular or multiple events of pain and suffering, trauma is something people carry for their entire lives, resulting in health problems, shorter life expectancies and serious, chronic and expensive challenges in nearly every institution in society.

Trauma causes diabetes, obesity, suicide, and is the cause for many to interact negatively with systems like health care, justice and child welfare — and many more.

Dealing with trauma takes time, patience, support and resources, not just from the individual who experienced the traumatizing event, but everyone he or she engages with.

What if the trauma is constantly different and never ends?

Last week, leaders from Nisichawayasihk Cree Nation (NCN, also known as Nelson House) declared a state of emergency after a snowstorm knocked out heat and electricity to most of the community’s 3,000 citizens.

For over 100 NCN members, this meant evacuation to Thompson, around an hour bus ride to the east. This meant there was no Thanksgiving in NCN. It’s hard to have family time, visiting and turkey with all the fixings in a hotel lobby.

By Tuesday night, power was mostly restored and many had returned home.

One wonders whether any NCN citizen should really take the time to unpack.

This is the community’s fourth state of emergency this year.

On May 22, the chief and council declared a state of emergency due to the high rate of crime, violence and property damage occurring because of the sale and use of alcohol and illegal drugs. This resulted in limited hours and amounts of alcohol entering the community, the banning of certain weapons, and youth curfews.

On July 6, NCN leadership declared a state of emergency due to three wildfires threatening the community. This resulted in around 600 citizens being evacuated, with most returning home by the end of the month.

On Aug. 2, however, out-of-control wildfires prompted another state of emergency declaration, causing the entire community to be evacuated.

Most ended up holding bags of their possessions at the Winnipeg convention centre waiting for hotel rooms. Some were even sent to stay in southern Ontario when the hotel rooms ran out.

By Aug. 20, much of NCN had returned home — only to face last weekend’s snowstorm, power outage, and yet another evacuation.

“We had to evacuate our whole community twice this summer,” NCN deputy chief Marcel Moody told media during the latest evacuation. “It seems there is always something happening… in northern Manitoba lately.”

Could you live in such a perpetual state of fear, uncertainty and worry?

Would you ever feel safe, comfortable or calm?

Could you be an effective employee, parent or human being if you were constantly worrying about what crisis is going to hit you next?

Virtually every month there are so many states of emergencies in First Nations in this province it’s hard to keep track.

This past summer, for example, 17 wildfire-related states of emergency — mostly on northern First Nations — were declared, resulting in the unprecedented evacuation of around 17,500 Indigenous citizens.

At virtually the same time, on Aug. 19 Pimicikamak Cree Nation (evacuated twice due to wildfires) also declared a state of emergency due to a lack of clean water.

Meanwhile, in July, local officials announced that the ferry connecting Tataskweyak (also known as Split Lake) Cree Nation and Kischewaskahegan (also known as York Landing) had to cease operations due to a lack of rain and low water levels.

I could keep going, but you get the point.

Living in a perpetual state of emergency is a traumatizing reality for many First Nations citizens in this country.

According to a 2022 federal report on emergency measures and First Nations communities for Indigenous Services Canada: “On average, First Nation communities experience 54 flood emergencies, 32 wildland fires and 36 other emergencies, including public health emergencies, annually.”

That’s 118 — or 18 per cent — of First Nations in Canada.

Another way to think about it: that’s nearly 200,000 citizens losing their possessions, homes and livelihoods every year, living in states of crisis that most will never understand.

I could explain all of this in terms of Canada’s historical and ongoing mistreatment of First Nations, but if you have read any of my columns over the past decade, you know this.

What this column is pointing out is that, for many First Nations, the trauma never stops.

There is no time to recover, access therapy, health care and resources.

There is no time to unpack.

Whether it be a wildfire, flood, storm, drought, drugs, alcohol, racism or a hateful politician, police officer or person, for many First Nations, life consists of trauma.

A little patience, support and understanding go a long way.

niigaan.sinclair@freepress.mb.ca