Rain drips off my cowboy hat as lightning cracks to my right. My horses are drenched. So am I. As I ride to Standoff, Alberta I find myself in the first storm of the trip. Thanks to my slicker and a pair of chaps donated by a Cowboy from High River (William Doberstein), it’s not as bad as one would imagine.
As I move down the road I see two dark figures in the horizon. Although they are far away I can tell the shadows are too tall to be people walking. As I get a bit closer I am able to make out the figures – two horseman riding my way. My back straightens and a smile is born. After more than a week in Alberta I am about to run into some cowboys on the road. Pretty cool! Then the thought arises, “could they be coming for me?” This excites me even more. An escort to my next home for the night…
As the men get close enough with their steeds one yells, “Wet much?”
“As wet as wet can be,” I respond with a big smile.
My wishes were granted! “You boys my entourage,” I ask.
“Pretty much,” Kevin Wipf answers while his younger brother admires my ponies.
(The Wipf boys. Larry on the far left and Kevin on the far right)
The two are part of the Standoff Hutterite Colony, my layover for the night. As the rain stops and the sun begins to peak out from the clouds we talk about my ride and their way of life.
“Everyone in the Colony has a job, since my dad is the cow-boss, I have always helped take care of the cattle,” he tells me as we ride over the Belly River.
Hutterites are a communal people living in colonies found all over the prairies of North America. With up to 120 people per colony, they farm, raise livestock and produce manufactured goods. As I discovered in Kevin’s colony, Hutterites practice a near-total community of goods – whereas all property is owned by the colony.
“If I need something I just ask for it and I get it. Of course I can’t ask for a Lamborghini, but if it’s a new pair of boots or a saddle there’s never a problem,” Kevin says.
It is as if they live in a socialist state. Everyone works for the greater good for the community.
“For us this system works really well,” Kevin’s father Larry tells me as we sit down for dinner.
As we eat they tell me how the colony is almost entirely self-sufficient, constructing their own buildings, maintaining their own equipment, making clothes, etc…
“When we go to the grocery store to get just a few things we need, we almost fall over looking at the bill. I don’t understand how people can afford to eat meat these days,” Kevin’s mother Linda says as she digs into the delicious ribs Larry has cooked.
These ribs we are enjoying along with the pork, goose, chicken and beef they eat all come from the colony. And it doesn’t stop there. They also have a huge vegetable garden with potatoes, pees, tomatoes…. harvest hay, alfalfa, canola… produce enough milk for the colony and sell the rest to a cheese factory… It’s unbelievable to see their operation. But how can they pull all of this off you may be wondering?
“We work very hard here,” Larry says.
That’s the secret folks. These men and women wake up with the sun and work all day. Their work ethic is something we can all learn from! Along with their sense of community.
“We work for one another and the greater good of the colony,” Larry says.
After getting a first-hand look at the Standoff Hutterite colony I thanked the Wipf family for their AMAZING hospitality and rode on to Cardston. Crossing Canada’s largest Native Reserve I was able to see another example of a strong “community.”
Hosted by the Chief’s wife Rhonda Weasel Head and their daughter Sharlee, I was able to learn about the history of the Blood Tribe, their present and even what the future holds.
Considered the oldest residents of the western prairie region, the Blood Tribe has a population of over 10 000 people.
“One thing about the reserve is we are very close-knit… one big family,” says Sharlee as she drives me around her community.
(Sharlee barrel races, plays hockey, football & Basketball)
As she jerks the car left and right trying to miss the giant pot holes on the road, she talks about the homes we pass. Boarded windows, broken down doors and graffiti are all part of the view. An auxiliary constable, Sharlee sees many of the issues the reserve faces first hand. But it hasnt always been this way.
“I grew up a very sheltered life… my parents lived for us kids and always gave us a great life.
One of my first times walking into these homes (as a constable), I could not believe the condition… it was like a third world country,” Sharlee tells me as she remembers the scene.
She recalls how dirty the house was and the extreme odour which drove her sick to her stomach.
“I remember I had to walk out because it was so imotional for me seeing my own people living like this,” she says.
According to her many people on the reserve use drugs and alcohol today due to the lack of parenting residential school’s caused. In the 20th century, the Canadian Indian residential school system was created to assimilate Aboriginal children’s. With over 130 schools across Canada, the last residential school was shut down in 1996.
Speaking to Bernice Red Crow (above), a case worker with the child protection services on the reserve, I was able to learn about the pain residential schools caused.
“I went to residential school from the age of 6 until I was 15-years-old,” she tells me while we chat in her office.
Bernice, the granddaughter of the last hereditary chief on the reserve, still remembers her days at the school.
“The nuns were very strict with us kids. We couldn’t hug each other, that was very bad… and if we spoke during dinner they would take our food away and make us stand in the corner… we would still be hungry,” she says with a calm look on her face.
It was very hard for me to sit there and listen to all of this. I know it happened a long time ago and many Canadians believe Aboriginal people need to move on… But the fact is that Residential schools created a horrible cycle within Native communities. These children who were raised in this manner went on to become parents – with no idea how raise kids in a loving manner.
“Parenting is so important… the Indian Residential schools taking children away at such an early age resulted in them growing up not knowing how to parent,” Sharlee says.
Fortunately, speaking to Sharlee I was able to see that things are changing. More and more Aboriginal children are graduating from college and returning to the Reserve to give back to their community.
“I wanna police my own community and do everything I can to help them, she says.
I cant thank Sharlee and her mother Rhonda enough for all of their help! They treated me like family and I will never forget them. Sharlee is an inspiration for many young women in her community. I am so happy to have met her!
Before I say goodbye to Sharlee I ask her if there was anything else she would like to say to those who don’t get a chance to visit the reserve.
“A lot of people think we are all drunks and we are not educated… but in reality we have doctors, lawyers, professional athletes here on the reserve. We are just like any other society and we are working hard to solve our problems… Our future looks bright,” Sharlee says before we hug goodbye.
