The recent passing of Queen Elizabeth II has had repercussions all across the land — even in what we call “Indian country.” To put it mildly, hers was a complicated relationship with Indigenous people, for sure.
For me, her passing brought back fond memories of my mother. She was an Anishnaabe woman who was born, raised, and passed away on the Curve Lake First Nation. And she loved the Queen. She loved English royalty. She personally remembered all the key points in Elizabeth’s life. I’m not sure why — could be the pageantry, the regality, or possibly the fact that Elizabeth didn’t have to do her own laundry (or anybody else’s). When someone has spent decades doing just that, the concept can evidently be powerfully persuasive and alluring.
Every Christmas Day, things would not be allowed to progress in our house until after the Queen’s midday speech.
I remember that, in 1981, when Charles and Diana were getting married, my mother woke me up out of a rather sound sleep at 4 a.m. to “fix” the television — meaning I had to move the aerial manually to get better reception — so she could watch the festivities and see the Queen. My mother has been gone for many years. And, yet, I still occasionally come across bits of royal bric-a-brac in the house.
My mother was not alone in her interest in the Royal Family. Many of the older generation, usually women, also had a predilection for the Royal Family and their activities, both good and bad. Whenever there were protests against her, she would scowl and say, “Why can’t they just leave her alone! She’s an old woman!” though my mother was only five years younger.
Understandably, Queen Elizabeth II has a mixed reception in the First Nations community. Many in our varied communities vociferously reject the Queen and what she stands for, what with her being one of the literal symbols of colonization. She’s mentioned in that song many of us older people had to sing at the beginning of every school day. Her name also appears on the treaties we signed, and she would appear physically on the actual handful of dollars some Indigenous communities got for signing those treaties.
But, admittedly, I am unsure whether she ever personally colonized any place or thing herself.
Indigenous Twitter has been all over the place on the topic. For some, the Queen could be described as somebody sitting aloof atop the rotting corpse of an imperial giant — someone who does not deserve any sympathy. Her passing rates barely more than a shrug. The family business did much harm in a lot of places over the centuries, and many out there believe you are your job.
Others mourn the passing of a woman who, in her own way, has been a part of their life for 70 years. A mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, a wife. According to reports, at one time the Queen was a pretty good car mechanic (something she picked up during the war years in case she ever lost her job, I guess).
And now the crown falls to her son, King Charles III, at the tender age of 73. He’ll be starting his new job well past the age when most non-royal people retire. It makes sense: that empire on which the sun never sets is not going to run itself. Though the paint isn’t quite dry on his throne, something tells me his reign will be somewhat less popular than his mother’s. But I could be wrong. Methinks the reign of King Andrew would have been a lot more … shall we say… contentious. There’s your scary thought for the day.
While the country mourns, there are other things happening that have more of a resonance in First Nations communities. Indigenous Twitter is incensed that the death of this one woman has seemingly eclipsed the murder of 10 people, mostly Indigenous, and the wounding of 18 others in Saskatchewan just days earlier. Queen Elizabeth had the better press agent and, with her celebrity, touched more lives (in ways both good and bad) than all those people put together. But those deaths definitely have more of an impact on who we the Indigenous are and how we live — possibly because of the ramifications of the work done by Her Majesty’s ancestors.
It’s that whole web of existence/circle of life thing. Everything is connected.