Foreword

By Chief Allan Adam

I remember one of the first times my Granny Helene Piché (née Adam) told me about what the creation of Wood Buffalo National Park did to her and her family. My Granny was a strong woman, but she had buried that story and carried it inside so the family wouldn’t have to carry it. It wasn’t until much later that I learned the truth from her and from my father, the late Alec Bruno.

She told me the story when we were eating moose, a moose which I had hunted in the Park. When I told her where I got the moose, she just pushed her plate away and said she wouldn’t eat it. My Granny then shared her story. She was a fluent Dënesųłıné speaker, and told the story mostly in Dene, so I only understood parts of it. What I did understand was that her family was from Birch River in the Park, and that at some point they were kicked out and she wasn’t allowed back. I asked my father Alec Bruno later about what had happened. I said, “Dad, what is this about Granny being kicked out of the Park?” And then he told me everything.

I had always wondered why my family had been poor, and why my Granny had moved around so much. You see, she had grown up at Birch River, but when she was young she married a man and they moved to Fort Chipewyan. Several years later he died during one of the epidemics. When she tried to come home to grieve and get the support of her family, she was not allowed. The Park had taken over the land. My father elaborated; he told me that when Granny tried to go home with her kids, the Park wardens threatened her and said she had to leave. He said that Granny’s house had been burned down by the wardens when she first left the Park with her new husband. Her home in the Park was gone.

After her attempt to return home was cruelly denied, she bounced around and relocated many times, trying to find a new home. But her true home was on the Birch River, and without it she was in a way homeless for the rest of her life. When she married my grandfather, her second husband, they took care of each other, and things got a little better, but it was still hard, because her house still wasn’t her home. The wardens’ threats stayed with her and had consequences that lasted a long time. Of the seventeen children she had, just four survived because of the harsh life they were forced to live. This was the reason she couldn’t eat the moose - it reminded her of the home the government took away.

My father and I have told this story in this book. It’s a painful story that a lot of the families in our community share. The oral histories and the words of our grandparents and parents, of our relatives and ancestors, are being shared here so the world might know what happened. Wood Buffalo National Park was the heart of the Dene homelands, and when it was removed, Dene people suffered. Before it was taken away, people lived on the land and water. It provided everything they needed, with abundant wildlife. It’s one of the richest places in the world in terms of wildlife, resources, land and water. My Granny, and so many others, lost all that, and were left homeless, with only memories of what used to be. The Park’s rules meant that she could never go home, and so she kept that suffering inside, shielding her kids and grandkids from the pain. Yet, despite all her efforts, as well as those of her generation, the pain moved through generations.

The people today suffer the memories and trauma of this, a trauma that when combined with residential schools, hydrodams and oil sands pollution, casts a very long and dark shadow. For too long people have kept these traumas inside, not wanting to share them for fear of burdening others, but as we move down this road for future change we are learning that healing is only possible once we shed light and tell present and future generations what happened.

That’s why ACFN has been doing this work and created this book. That’s why we’ve been telling the stories and calling on the government to acknowledge what it did. My Granny sharing her story, and my Father passing it on and pressing for change, are part of why the work began. I’m thankful to the many people who agreed to share their stories. It is good and strong medicine that will heal our Nation. I think that is why my Granny shared her story with me, so that I can understand what happened; and so that we all can understand what happened and that we can grow and be a strong in our home once again.

As we learn and understand these stories, we can grow and reclaim ourselves and our Nation. We are the original stewards of this land from time immemorial. We are the proud Dënesųłıné; the K’ai Tailé Dene. We’re sharing this story because it will help to heal us, and through healing we will be prepared to take back our rightful place in our home.

I hope that you’ll hear these stories and listen. We are sharing it because the Dene people of ACFN want our relatives to be remembered and we believe that there can be a better future for all of us.