Grey Owl... Kindred to the Wind
by Gilbert Oskaboose, Ahnishnawbek Nation

Last night I sat down with my grandson and watched Lord Richard Attenborough's recently released movie: Grey Owl. Didn't know what to make of it. It was a heavy mournful movie of James Bond in buckskins agonizing over who he really was, Grey Owl of the lost and lonely places or Archie Belamey of High Street in London, England.

Who really cares? Grey Owl was Grey Owl. Grey Owl may have been born Archie Belamey out of London, England but he chose to come to Canada. He chose to live with the Ahnisnawbek of Bear Island. He chose to speak our language. He chose to marry into the tribe. He chose to become one with the land and it's people. How many of us get to choose who we will become? How many of us dare to follow our own dreams and visions?

As one would expect the scenery was magnificent, much like that of that other epic: Blackrobe, an insignificant little tale of an insignificant little white priest at odds with the wilderness and the people who chose to live therein. The Ontario woodlands and marshlands at their finest. The changing seasons, each with it's own grandeur. The delight of summer, the high colors of Autumn when the Creator takes a paintbrush to the distant blue hills and paints in crimson and gold. The stark silence of Winter when hunger and death and the spirit of Windigo walks the land. All these things are my beloved homelands, mystic and traditional lands of the Ahnishnawbek people.

The only dialogue that touched me was when an old Sioux man spoke to Grey Owl. "Men are made up of their dreams, and you have dreamt well, Grey Owl." Anaherio, the Mohawk woman who followed Grey Owl into the deep woods was played by a young native woman as pretty as a Spring morning. One could only fall in love with her, along with Grey Owl. She was the beautiful, intelligent and nurturing native woman personified. Thank you, Lord Attenborough.

Humankind has yet to learn the truths Grey Owl was here to teach. Canada is still being regarded as a vast and empty land with limitless natural resources to plunder at will. Witness the passing of the Atlantic cod and the threatened extinction of the Pacific salmon. The beaver was saved but the land still grieves under thousands of metric tonnes of radioactive wastes. Our rivers run dark with the discarded effluence of modern industries. The air we breathe has been poisoned and polluted. Great forests are being strip-mined to feed what passes for culture today.

Lord Attenborough, with due respect, has missed the point on this one. There is no mention of the mighty Missasaugi and Little White rivers. There is not mention of the great Benedong River. There is no mention of the Missasaugi delta lands and no mention of the little northern Ontario town of Biscotasing where Grey Owl lived and played. There is no evidence of Grey Owl's mastery of the language and his struggles with alcoholism, and the way he lived life like the Creator meant to be lived - to the fullest. Grey Owl drank deep from the cup of Life.

Grey Owl has walked out onto the Wind to be with the Grandfathers, but his spirit lives on in the hearts of Ahnishnawbek people. He will always be with us, a part of the First People, a shining beacon of great strength and Hope for a better future.

Dream well, Grey Owl, my dearest brother - one who moves by night....