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| Wild Stinkweed (sweet-smelling variety) |
(Note: Please pardon the blotched formatting. BlogSpot did it to me and I don't know how to fix it!)
On its surface,
the application of the word, settlers, to distinguish
non-indigenous populations from indigenous is probably a question of
simple, arbitrary choice. We non-indigenous could call ourselves
crackers or neo-americans and have the same
conversations we’re having now. Somewhere, lists exist that could
be headed “indigenous persons,” and anyone not eligible to be on
those lists needs to be called something if we’re to talk
about the politics of indigenous/non-indigenous relations in Canada.
“Canadian” vs Indigenous doesn’t work since the
indigenous are also Canadians. Indian vs white fails for
obvious reasons.
Perhaps we could
argue with Juliet that the applied words are simply placeholders,
really, and that whatever name is applied to a person changes nothing
in the character or the substance of that person:
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, By any other word would smell as sweet.” Romeo & Juliet, (II, 2)
I get that point, but any student of linguistics will acknowledge that words have both denotations (objective meanings) and connotations (subjective or suggested meanings.) If the person who first assigned rose to the flower had decided to call it stinkweed, well . . . you get my drift.
The
German word for indigenous
person
is Ureinwohner,
a compound word directly translated as “original resident.”
Ansiedler,
is an “in-settler,” or “immigrant.” I suspect that the
distinctions in every language suffer from the clinging connotations,
not denotations of words being used.
Objection
to being called settlers
is
being raised by persons who may well be third, fourth or even
tenth-generation citizens of Canada. I work in a museum; used in that
context, the word settlers
has always referred to pioneering immigrants. The question seems to
rise logically: how can the word settler
not
connote a not-yet-citizen, an immigrant? How can it not
connote a questionable claim to first-class citizenship?
I
have two warnings: First, let’s not push the use of the word
settler
to
the point where it becomes the fulcrum around which our conversation
turns. Shakespeare’s point made through Juliet is an education in
human rights all by itself. Persons are not defined by the name by
which we call them. And secondly, let’s be aware that when we
quarrel over whether or not the use of a word is appropriate or not,
such strife can constitute little more than a handy excuse to avoid
dealing with the real subject.
And
the real subject is this: In Canada today, there are pockets of
population living in poverty, often under abject, hopeless
conditions. Their problems are clearly endemic to remnants of
colonization that persist in our time. One category of Canadians is
benefiting from colonialism while another category has been plundered
by it. We can choose either to ignore the inequity of opportunity or
join in the grand project for equal status, opportunity and human
rights for everyone.
I’m
no settler
by the museum definition of the word. I am a settler,
however in the sense that Canada’s welcoming of my grandparents
expanded
the options for them and their descendants (me included) by limiting
the options for the Ureinwohner,
the aborigines whose tenure in this place went back ages and ages.
Call
me whatever you like, except late for dinner!
