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<p>A profound story, Chris, and told so beautifully!! Thanks for sharing!<br>
<br>
Shobha<br>
_________________________________<br>
Shobha Kumar<br>
World Bank Institute-WBIKE<br>
202-458-7021 -- skumar1@worldbank.org<br>
<br>
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<b><font color="#E26200">Chris Corrigan</font></b></td><td width="1%"><img width="18" height="1" src="cid:2__=0ABBFCA3DFEDC4C98f9e8a93df@worldbank.org" border="0" alt=""><br>
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<br>
<tt>A story from some work I did last week:<br>
<br>
“My grandmother was the one that inspired me,” said my friend Liz <br>
over lunch at the Valley Inn in Bella Coola. “She said that the <br>
world was once all together, and then it came apart and one day it <br>
will be all together again. So I just try to bring things together.”<br>
<br>
Liz is a pretty remarkable woman. She worked for years in family <br>
reunification in Vancouver, bringing together First Nations kids with <br>
their birth families, reconnecting them to their culture and <br>
communities. She is at home now in Bella Coola on council, working <br>
for the Ministry as a social worker, but always about bringing people <br>
together. The reason I am here, for these two days of community <br>
conversations, is simply to be a part of designing and hosting <br>
community meetings that do that.<br>
<br>
The Nuxalk Nation reserves sit in this stunning valley, at the mouth <br>
of the Bella Coola River, where it meets the ocean at North Bentinck <br>
Arm, still nearly 150 kilometres inland from the open Pacific coast. <br>
At the Bella Coola town site is an old cannery, an icehouse and a <br>
wharf. There are a couple of hotels and restaurants, a Coop store, <br>
some repair shops and and RCMP station. Across the street from that <br>
is one of the Nuxalk communities, an old part of the reserve called <br>
“Downtown.” It mostly consists of old Department of Indian Affairs <br>
Housing, never designed for the wet climate of the Pacific coast, some <br>
trailers that house the band office and a couple of community <br>
buildings and a playground. Yards are full of mullein, plantain and <br>
blackberry bushes and the occasional carved headstone can be seen in a <br>
yard. A small creek winds through the reserve and joins the river on <br>
the north side of the community. At this time of year there are <br>
people out on the river, drift netting their food fish, gathering coho <br>
for canning and smoking. The Nuxalk fisheries personnel are trying to <br>
find some sockeye to take eggs from so they can stock some of the <br>
streams and lakes around the territory. Like everywhere the fish are <br>
dwindling. In the past, oolichans ran through here in the millions, <br>
but now only a handful return in the early spring and the once rich <br>
Nuxalk grease, one of the healthiest human produced foods in the <br>
world, is now gone.<br>
<br>
Up the river from here is the newer community of Four Mile, a <br>
subdivision of larger lots and larger houses. Kids roam around on <br>
their bikes and young families are out walking. The houses look like <br>
any rural subdivision but there are telltale signs you are still on <br>
Nuxalk lands. Poles dote the neighbourhood, carving studios take up <br>
garage space, and the occasional lawn has a fish boat parked on it.<br>
<br>
As the Bella Coola valley winds eastward, a few more communities dot <br>
the landscape – Hagensborg is the biggest, another 10 kilometres <br>
along highway 20. It is an old Norwegian settlement, and here the <br>
houses look bigger, more durable, and on large lots featuring <br>
manicured lawns and gardens. No one is outside, the kids get dropped <br>
off from the school bus and head right inside in contrast to the <br>
reserves, where the kids scatter in all directions after school. As <br>
highway 20 heads up towards Williams Lake, it climbs the “hill” a <br>
steep grade of narrow switch backs with no guard rail, that is said by <br>
some to be the most terrifying drive in Canada. If you don't fly out, <br>
or leave for Vancouver Island far to the south by ferry, this is the <br>
only way to go.<br>
<br>
This is the valley in which I have been working this week. A place of <br>
stunning natural beauty and deep social alienation. Liz and the <br>
Nuxalk elected chief, Spencer, were both fed up with the kinds of <br>
community meetings that have been going on for years, where people <br>
come and yell at one another, where anger becomes unbottled rage and <br>
questions are asked that have no answers that will ever satisfy. Both <br>
realized that how we talk to one another is important, so we agreed to <br>
try an experiment, and see what might happen if we ran meetings using <br>
participatory methodologies.<br>
<br>
The first day was a World Cafe, which I wrote about earlier, and <br>
yesterday we tried an Open Space meeting for a general community <br>
meeting. As is not uncommon, we started very late, once people had <br>
arrived, and a pot of moose stew appeared and everyone was settled, it <br>
was 5:00 – 90 minutes past the posted opening. We had about 20 <br>
people sitting in a circle wondering what would happen, and I was <br>
wondering the same. Most folks were Band employees, present to give <br>
information and participate in conversations as best they could. A <br>
number had been reluctant to come because they had no idea what would <br>
happen, and feared community members being out of control. “How are <br>
you going to stop people from getting on their high horses?” one man <br>
had asked me. “I'm not,” I replied. “But the way we do this <br>
will lessen the chance of that happening.” He wasn't convinced. It <br>
was as if I had just described the concept of magic to him. I clearly <br>
knew my stuff, but that didn't make me any more in touch with reality.<br>
<br>
After a prayer and a quiet opening welcome, I stepped into the circle, <br>
with really nothing but an invitation to talk differently. We had not <br>
been able to do very much planning, and the notices for the meeting <br>
had only gone out to the community a couple of days before. Still, <br>
the invitation was to move from some visioning that the community had <br>
been doing for an Indian Affairs mandated planning process, to <br>
something more based in what the people wanted. I walked the circle, <br>
explained the process, reminded them that they had the power to set <br>
the agenda, and waited for what might happen.<br>
<br>
Always in Open Space meetings, there is this moment of being on the <br>
edge of the complete unknown. All of the preparation and time spent <br>
building the invitation and the theme and the question usually pay off <br>
in that moment. If we have done all of that right and produced a <br>
strong social field, the ideas flood into the centre. But there are <br>
times when the conditions don't tap the passion of the community, when <br>
people just remain confused about why they are there and what they are <br>
supposed to do. When they haven't seen through their cynicism far <br>
enough to even listen to the instructions. Those times only happen if <br>
there has been little preparation in the community or organization. <br>
Open Space is not a magic wand – it does not automatically generate <br>
participation. Invitation is the magic wand and Open Space is the <br>
place where the magic can happen. Yesterday, I feared that the wand <br>
had not been well used. That we would be staring at the floor between <br>
our feet for a while.<br>
<br>
But sometimes passion trumps preparation. It turns out that in <br>
Nuxalk, there are plenty of things to talk about. Life is hard for <br>
most people. There is 90% unemployment, the fish are disappearing, <br>
huge scale land rights issues loom over the heads of 1600 people, the <br>
language and culture is hanging by a thread, youth are drinking and <br>
drugging and getting pregnant. It's no wonder really that people <br>
shout at community meetings. It's the last place to rail against the <br>
morass of conditions that keeps these communities poor and out of the <br>
loop. The last place where people can feel their power, even if it <br>
comes at the expense of others.<br>
<br>
So last night, as I sat down, four people rose up and we were off. One <br>
Elder who had been a vocal critic of how bad the Council was at <br>
communicating with the people convened a session on how she wanted to <br>
see it done It felt at some level like there was some forgiveness <br>
buried in her question. Let's move on, she seemed to be saying. <br>
Let's figure out how to do this better.<br>
<br>
There were similar sentiments around jobs and youth and culture and <br>
language. Ten small groups were formed, and there was lots of <br>
visiting over the next hour as we did all the sessions in one time <br>
slot. Laughter broke out all around the room. More community <br>
members, who had been hanging around the outside of the hall, joined <br>
us. Liz picked up a conversation that she had started two years ago <br>
when I had been here before working with her. She introduced people <br>
to her idea of a community house – an intergenerational space where <br>
people could gather and be with one another.<br>
<br>
As we gathered in the circle at the end, we talked about what it felt <br>
like to be working like this. People had a good feeling towards one <br>
another. I asked when was the last time people had left a community <br>
meeting feeling good. There was hearty laughter. “Never!” said <br>
one Elder, her eyes wide with the absurdity of the question. “Feels <br>
good now though,” she said.<br>
<br>
We have a choice. We can meet in ways that get nothing done in the <br>
name of “information sharing” and “accountability” or we can <br>
meet in ways which allow our hearts to set the agenda, and our hands <br>
and feet to see it through to action. We didn't begin massive amounts <br>
of work last night, but we cracked open something – a possibility <br>
that it could be different. Hopefully we opened a jar out of which <br>
choice flowed. As Thomas King once said, you can't pretend not to <br>
have heard the story If you were there last night, you would have seen <br>
and felt something different. You can spin it to say some guy came up <br>
from the south and ran this kooky meeting and we talked in small <br>
groups. But no one who was there can deny that it DID feel good at <br>
the end. We felt like something was accomplished.<br>
<br>
What do we dare choose now?<br>
<br>
Liz reminded me that when we worked together two years ago, a young <br>
woman uttered a phrase that is stark in it's power and implication for <br>
communities like Nuxalk: Leadership is seeing the beauty in others. <br>
It's to draw together the world again, as Liz's grandmother says. To <br>
heal by making whole, which is not to say fixing everything, but <br>
rather to bring things closer together.<br>
<br>
As we left the hall last night, Spencer, the chief, waved at a man <br>
coming across the playground. He was a “trooper” one of the small <br>
number of chronic alcoholics in the community who have the hardest <br>
time of all. “What's happening Spence?” the trooper cried out. <br>
“Community meeting,” replied the young chief getting into his <br>
truck. “We were just talking.”<br>
<br>
“Oh, mmmhmm,” said the trooper. “That's good.”<br>
<br>
-----<br>
CHRIS CORRIGAN<br>
</tt><tt><a href="http://www.chriscorrigan.com">http://www.chriscorrigan.com</a></tt><tt><br>
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Sent from an iPod, typed with thumbs...<br>
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