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Rural youth in transition : growing up in Williams Lake, British Columbia, 1945-1975 Arruda, Antonio Filomeno 2000

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RURAL YOUTH IN TRANSITION: CROWING UP IN WILLIAMS LAKE, BRITISH COLUMBIA, 1945-1975 by ANTONIO FILOMENO ARRUDA B . A . , The University o f Western Ontario, 1979 B . E d . , The University o f Western Ontario, 1980 M . A . , The University o f British Columbia, 1992 A T H E S I S S U B M I T T E D IN P A R T I A L F U L F I L M E N T O F T H E R E Q U I R E M E N T S FOR T H E D E G R E E OF D O C T O R OF PHILOSOPHY in T H E F A C U L T Y OF G R A D U A T E STUDIES (Department o f Educational Studies)  W e accept this thesis as conforming to theffeqitked standard  T H E U N I W r f S T T Y O F BRTffSft C O L U M B I A June 2000 (c)Antonio Filomeno Arruda  In  presenting  degree freely  at  this  the  thesis  in  partial  University  of  British  available for  copying  of  department publication  this or of  reference  thesis by  this  for  his thesis  scholarly  or for  her  The University of British C o l u m b i a Vancouver, Canada  (2/88)  I further  purposes  the  requirements  agree that  may  representatives.  financial  Department  of  Columbia, I agree that the  and study.  permission.  DE-6  fulfilment  It  gain shall not  Library  permission  be  granted  is  understood be  for  allowed  by  an  advanced  shall make for  the that  without  it  extensive  head  of  my  copying  or  my  written  ABSTRACT  Histories o f childhood and youth have generally focused upon social policy toward young people. This dissertation chronicles the actual experiences o f youth growing up i n and around Williams Lake i n the Cariboo-Chilcotin region o f British Columbia, a "western" community surrounded by open spaces, ranches, and Aboriginal reservations. Williams Lake underwent economic, demographic, spatial as well as social transformation i n the first three decades following the Second W o r l d War. Forty-three oral interviews with two sets o f subjects who were adolescents i n the study area furnished the bulk o f the primary evidence. Most o f the first "generation" were b o m i n the Great Depression and were teens sometime between 1945 and 1955. The second generation are "baby-boomers" bom between 1947 and 1962 who were teens between 1965 and 1975. This joint narrative details select aspects o f their lives at school, at paid and unpaid labour, with friends, and at leisure. It suggests changes and continuities i n the experience o f local youth between 1945 and 1975. First generation non-Aboriginal subjects grew up with a somewhat coherent peer group albeit with relatively little physical and social contact with Aboriginal youth. Gendered domestic labour around home and property honed work skills and dispositions from an early age. The emergence o f local sawmills greatly expanded work options for males but not females. Males also enjoyed comparatively more spatial and temporal freedom throughout their youth.  Ill  Second generation subjects grew up i n a context o f greater urbanization and access to mass culture. The merger o f regional youth in the high school along with natural population growth, demographic change including the enrollment o f first Aboriginal and then Indo-Canadian youth encouraged factions as well as cultural gulfs among youth i n the school and community. Their leisure was comparatively less divided, at least on the basis o f gender, as many non-Aboriginal parents eased traditional restrictions upon daughters. With notable exceptions this generation contributed less labour to their household and directed part- and full-time earnings into satisfying their own personal interests. The author suggests the pattern o f youths' recreational use o f hinterlands during the period reflects common practice i n many Canadian communities located in similar rural and isolated settings. H e illustrates how factors such as family affluence and circumstances, gender, "race" and ethnicity continued to mediate the experience o f growing up in this post-war period. He concludes many more local accounts o f the experiences o f youth are needed before any attempt is made at an inclusive national historical synthesis o f growing up in Canada after the Second W o r l d War.  IV  T A B L E OF CONTENTS  Abstract  ii  List of Tables  v  List o f Illustrations  vi  Preface  viii  Acknowledgements  xix  C H A P T E R 1 Memory, Oral Narrative and Reconstructing Adolescence  1  C H A P T E R 2 "Alas, Civilization is Catching U p ! " C H A P T E R 3 " A Centre for People": Teachers, Curriculum and School Culture  21 . . . .  51  C H A P T E R 4 Learning to Work and Learning from Work: Unpaid and Casual Labour . .  105  C H A P T E R 5 Friends and Cliques  132  C H A P T E R 6 Leisure and Popular Culture  158  C H A P T E R 7 Jobs and Thoughts o f Jobs: In and Out o f the Labour Market  212  C H A P T E R 8 Conclusion  247  Works Cited  264  Appendix I  Interview Questions  283  Appendix II  Enrollment by School and Grade, 1923-1974, Williams Lake  287  Appendix III  Enrollment by Programme, Grades X I and X I I , Columneetza Secondary . .  291  Appendix I V Subjects Wanted For Study Appendix V  Explanation o f Study and Statement o f Consent  293 294  V  LIST OF T A B L E S  Table N o .  Page  1. Population o f Williams Lake, 1931-1991  43  2. Schedule at the H i g h School Dormitory, 1967  73  3. Monthly Salaries i n Quesnel, Prince George and Smithers, 1951  217  vi  LIST OF I L L U S T R A T I O N S  Illustration N o .  Page  1. M a p o f Study Area  25  2. "Tiny Village o f Williams Lake, 1934"  26  3. Williams Lake circa early 1940s  27  4. Cattle Drive Holding Area Above Williams Lake  28  5. "Some L o c a l Customers Arriving at M a i n Gate at Stampede, 1958"  28  6.  29  " W i l l i a m s Lake Stampede i n Natural Amphitheatre"  7. "1960 Williams Lake Stampede  .  Queens"  30  8. "Aboriginal Princess Greeting Princess Margaret, Williams Lake, 1957"  30  9.  31  Williams Lake, 1964  10. Downtown Williams Lake, 1964  31  11. Cariboo Indian G i r l s ' Pipe Band, St. Joseph's M i s s i o n  48  12. "L'enfants pensionaires du Rosary H a l l "  56  13  1949-50 Grade 9/10 Class with Teacher, Owen Kerley  60  14. Williams Lake Elementary-Senior Secondary ca. 1950  60  15. Williams Lake Junior-Senior H i g h School, 1965  72  16. "Pushing Their Way Through Jammed Corridors"  72  17. "Beatnik Dance at W L J S , 1964-65"  83  vii Illustration N o .  Page  18. Teachers at W L J S , 1973-74  83  19. "First Students Council Dance, 1964"  90  20. "Prefects. Help Maintain Order i n the School"  90  21. "Photography C l u b : ' S m i l e C a r o l ! " '  91  22. Pep C l u b  91  23. " B o y s ' C l u b . Gives Service to the School"  92  24. "Y-Teens. Pledge to Give Service to the School and Community"  92  25. The Lakette Senior Girls Basketball Team  93  26. The Lakers Prepare to leave for Vancouver  93  27. '"Educated cowboys'bring higher education into the limelight"  104  28. Williams Lake 4 - H Club at St. Joseph's M i s s i o n  168  29. Scout Camp at Rose Lake, July 1954  169  30. 1st W i l l i a m s Lake G i r l Guide Company, Remembrance Day  169  31. "Queen o f the L a k e " Contest  170  32. Williams Lake R i n k  170  33. Youth at Riske Creek i n the Chilcotin  176  34. " N i m p o Lake - a fine holiday area in the Chilcotin"  185  35. Young and old together on a Chilcotin range  186  36. "The Gang at Deschene's — a musical evening, 1955"  196  37. "Party out at the Lake"  196  38. "First Girls Hired at the M i l l "  237  39. "  in appropriate setting"  237  PREFACE This dissertation is an oral history o f growing up i n W i l l i a m s Lake, colloquially, Laketown," between 1945 and 1975.  "the  It is a contribution to the history o f childhood and youth, in  the Canadian context a field once described by Patricia Rooke and Rudy Schnell as a "truly marginal subspecialty" o f historical scholarship dominated by studies o f the child-saving movement, juvenile immigration movement and juvenile delinquency, and yielding a paucity o f dissertations. That observation remains as true now as it was a decade ago.  1  U n l i k e many traditional histories in the field at large, which since the heuristic Centuries o f Childhood have focussed upon the changing social sentiment toward the child and childhood itself, the discipline o f the child, or public policy toward children, "Rural Y o u t h i n Transition" features the actual experience o f young people.  2  It embodies the "bottom-up" perspective, one  'Patricia T. Rooke and R. L. Schnell, "Canada," in Joseph M . Hawes and N . Ray Hiner, eds. Children in Historical and Comparative Perspective (New York: Greenwood Press, 1990), 179, 181, 182. Even as our historical understanding of childhood and youth in the various contexts of Rome, Third Republic France, Wilhelmine Germany, Sweden, and the United States expands, Canada, unfortunately, remains under-represented. See ProOuest. Dissertation Abstracts on C D R O M (Ann Arbor, Mich: University Microfilms, 1989-). benchmarks in the field at large must begin with this classic addressing the historicism of the childhood concept, Phillipe Aries, [L'Enfant et la vie familiale sous l'ancien regime!. Centuries of Childhood: A Social History of Family Life. trans. Robert Baldick (New York: Vantage Books, [1960] 1962). Among works focussing upon the history of social sentiment toward children, the most vigorous responses to Aries' thesis were launched by Linda A. Pollock, Forgotten Children: Parent-Child Relations from 1500-1900 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983); John Boswell, The Kindness of Strangers: the Abandonment of Children in Western Europe from Late Antiquity to the Renaissance (New York: Pantheon Books, 1988); and Shulmith Shahar, Childhood in the Middle Ages (London and New York: Routledge, 1990). For the late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century middle class view of American children, see Viviana A. Zelizer, Pricing the Priceless Child: The Changing Social Value of Children (New York: Basic Books, 1985). On the psychological aspects and discipline of the child, see Lloyd de Mause, "The Evolution of Childhood," in Lloyd de Mause, ed., The History of Childhood (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1974); Philip Greven, The Protestant Temperament: Patterns of Child-Rearing. Religious Experience, and the Self in Early America (New York. Alfred A. Knopf, 1977). On public policy toward children, for the United States, Stephen Schlossman, Love and the American Delinquent: the Theory and Practice of Progressive Juvenile Justice. 1825-1920 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1977); for England, Marjorie Cruikshank, Children and Industry: Child Health and Welfare in North-West Textile Towns during the Nineteenth Century (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1981); for France, Colin Heywood, Children in Nineteenth-Century France:  ix that is neither novel nor amply employed in recent historical scholarship. This study features, 3  first and foremost, recollections o f lived experience. It reflects the fact that, asked about their adolescent lives, subjects viewed their lives primarily i n the immediate context o f Williams  Lake  and area, and only secondarily i n the larger political and philosophical context o f the 1960s, the decade with a "long half-life" that "continues to contaminate our o w n . "  4  "Rural Y o u t h " addresses three shortcomings i n the study o f Canadian childhood and youth. First, it focuses primarily upon the experiences o f young people aged thirteen to nineteen, whom we often refer to as "teens" or "adolescents," as well as "youth," those aged fifteen to twenty-four.  5  Second, the study concerns the recent past, specifically, the three  decades from the end o f the Second World War to 1975. Third, it focuses, not upon urban Canada, but upon a rural, resource-based Canadian town which like many other Canadian communities experienced dramatic change i n this post-war period. Williams Lake in central interior British Columbia, 546 kilometres north o f Vancouver and 240 kilometres south o f Prince George, provides an excellent opportunity for an historical  Work. Health, and Education Among the Classes Populaires (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988); and for Canada, Neil Sutherland, Children in English Canadian Society: Framing the Twentieth-Century Consensus (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1976); Loma F. Hurl, "Overcoming the Inevitable: Restricting Child Factory Labour in Late Nineteenth Century Ontario," Labour/Le Travail 21 (Spring 1988)., as well as Prue Rains and Eli Teram, Normal Bad Bovs: Public Policies. Institutions, and the Politics of Client Recruitment (Montreal & Kingston: McGill-Queen's University Press, 1992). Early exemplars in this tradition are Jenny Kitteringham, "Country Girls Work in Nineteenth Century England," in Raphael Samuel, ed. Village Life and Labour (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975), and David Vincent's examination of boys' growing up experiences in Bread. Knowledge, and Freedom: A Study of Nineteenth-Century Working Class Autobiography (London: Europa Publications, Ltd., 1981). 3  Peter Collier and David Harowitz, Destructive Generation: Second Thoughts About the 1960s (New York: Summit Books, 1989), 15. 4  'Canadian Youth Commission, Youth and Jobs in Canada (Toronto: The Ryerson Press, 1945).  study o f youth growing up in a rapidly transforming social, economic and spatial context.  6  While change occurred virtually everywhere i n Canada after the Second W o r l d War, the extent o f post-war change i n this rural community is particularly striking. Chapter 2 undertakes a more thorough discussion o f the setting. It suffices here to point out that between 1945 and 1975, Williams Lake evolved from an isolated cattle shipment village o f around 500 people into an important regional centre o f about 6,000 with important lumbering manufacturing and services sectors. Vast improvements in road and air transportation strengthened links both within the 7  area as well as outward to urbanized southwestern British Columbia. This dissertation details the culture o f young people i n this area between 1945 and 1975. Considering the dramatic transformation o f rural Williams Lake over the course o f three decades, I wanted to know what it actually meant to be a young person growing up in this area in each o f two time periods, 1945-55 and 1965-75. Forty-three living subjects who were i n their teens at some point i n one o f these decades, collaborated with me i n recalling and recording their past i n detail unavailable i n the sorts o f sources which have traditionally informed the history o f childhood and youth. Together, we describe for each o f the periods, 1945-55, and 1965-75, from the perspective o f subjects themselves, the conditions and practices found i n young peoples' daily lives at school, in paid and unpaid work, at leisure, and among friends, and peers and i n the community. I consider how family circumstances, gender, "race" and ethnicity mediated their experiences. A secondary task o f this dissertation is to isolate continuity and change i n select aspects  These distances are established in British Columbia, Ministry of Regional Development, British Columbia Regional  6  Index 1989 (Victoria, Central Statistics Bureau, 1989), 342. 7  First incorporated as a village in 1929, Williams Lake was designated as a town in 1965 and as city in 1981. The 1971 census populationfigureofjust over 4,000 excluded significant subdivisions encroaching upon the town.  o f growing up i n and around Williams Lake as it transformed from small village to regional centre. In other words, broadly speaking, what features o f youth changed? W h i c h endured? Thus, the core question, "What d i d you do as a teen i n Williams Lake in 1948?" animates this study far more than does any question o f an ideology o f adolescence, although the two topics are inextricably linked. The point o f view expressed i n this study is primarily that o f non-Aboriginal and "mixedrace" peoples. While Aboriginal families populated the reserves and countryside around 8  Williams Lake, few o f them resided i n the village throughout the 1940s and 1950s. Although there is need to create more inclusive histories in general, proportional representation o f the Aboriginal adolescent experience necessitated doubling the sample size o f subjects i n order to probe the gender, class and personality complexities within the category o f "race." That 9  experience simply demanded its own separate treatment as does the case o f Indo-Canadians. While I do investigate the experiences o f some Aboriginal and Indo-Canadian youth, pragmatic reasons (I could not undertake one hundred and twenty or so interviews), never mind the issue o f appropriation o f voice, prevented a more thorough examination o f those realities. The orientation o f this dissertation is more micro- than macroscopic. It differs, for instance, from Doug Owram's treatise o f the Canadian " p i g i n the python" generation. Born at the Right Time provides an invaluable context on a national level o f a generation shaped by shared historical experience (by such things as the C o l d War, a cult o f domesticity, and growing  g  I employ "Aboriginal" to describe people who self-describe themselves variously as "Indian," "First Nations," or "Native" peoples. I prefer "non-Aboriginal" to "White" when describing all others because "White" was not then, nor is now sufficiently inclusive so as to include all other peoples. I offset the term, "race," following the British sociological and anthropological tradition to emphasize it is a socially and not biologically constructed category. See Robert Miles, Racism (London: Routledge, 1989). See for example, Antonio F. Arruda, "Expanding the View: Growing Up in Portuguese-Canadian Families, 1962-80," Canadian Ethnic Studies. Special Issue on the Family XXV. 3, (1993): 8-25. 9  nationalization and activism). In other words, unlike this study, Owram's history o f the babyboomer generation overlooks the complexity o f individual lives and regional, never mind local experience.  10  T w o decades ago, John R. G i l l i s suggested an authentic history o f youth required an examination o f the interface between the expectations o f the young and those o f their elders while considering the demographic and economic experiences o f differently situated class and status groups.  11  This dissertation attempts to capture some o f that conflict which was central to  youth culture in the Laketown, while recognizing both the general constraints adults placed upon youth and the different social locations o f subjects. It does not delve deeply into the political and cultural context of their "rebellions," "autonomy" or their "rites o f passage" during that "stormy decade," concepts which have framed classic works on adolescence and youth.  12  As  with the concepts o f children's dependence, separation, protection and delayed adult responsibilities, these ideas are implicit, and sometimes explicit i n this discussion, but they do not serve to systematically structure or frame i t .  13  Post-war adolescent culture i n the Williams Lake area was partly animated by young  '"Doug Owram, Born at the Right Time: a history of the babv boom generation (Toronto: The University of Toronto Press, 1996). On the "momentous occurrences of an era" that shaped collective memory and a "common generational identity" among American college students in the late 1970s, see Arthur Levine, "The Making of a Generation," Change (Sept/Oct 1993): 8-14. John Gillis, Youth and History: Tradition and Change in European Aee Relations. 1770-Present (New York: Academic Press, 1974), x-xi. 1 1  Albert Bandura, "The Stormy Decade: Fact or Fiction," in Rolf E. Muuss, Adolescent Behaviour and Society: a book of readings. 3rd ed. (New York: Random House, 1980). For enduring works, see G S . Hall, Adolescence. 2 vols. (New York: Appleton, 1916). Gillis, Youth and History. 1975; and Joseph Kett, Rites of Passage: Adolescence in America. 1790 to the present (New York: Basic Books, 1977). 13  For this sort of orientation in the field of the history of Canadian childhood, see Sutherland, Children in English Canada as well as Patricia T. Rooke and Rudy L. Schnell, Discarding the Asylum: From Child Rescue to the Welfare State in English-Canada. 1800-1950 (Lanham: University Press of America, 1983). For America, see Schlossman, Love and the American Delinquent.  XUl  peoples' growing struggle to be clear o f any sort o f adult confinement in order to seek membership in groups and activities o f their own choosing. In the first decade after 1945 adolescence was marked, i n the broadest sense, by relative acquiescence to practices established by adults i n the theatres o f family, school, church and wider community — i n other words, young people appear as relative conformists.  14  Young peoples' struggle for self-expression took root in  the greater social permissiveness o f the 1960s. In seeking to establish their individual identities, however, Laketown youth o f the late 1960s and early 1970s did not reject, but desired to emulate some adult practices, especially ones yielding freedom and pleasure. Certainly, compared to their counterparts in the early 1950s, youth o f the 1970s collectively, i f not always individually, gained greater access to what N e i l Postman has pointed out were adult-oriented privileges.  15  I f there was a shift on the part o f youth themselves toward self-segregation or at least greater seclusion from adults, by 1975 few teens in this area had achieved functional independence from adults. Adult-fashioned and controlled arenas such as family and school which had shaped the lives o f the young people i n the 1940s and 1950s, still organized much o f the daily life o f the boomers. Church, community clubs and sports remained important, although perhaps only into one's early teens. Although many teens, especially males, had the opportunity to become economically independent o f parents most failed (intentionally) to do so. B y age sixteen, for example, many males had opportunities to participate i n the local economic structure to the extent that had they chosen to do so, they might have left their parents' households and set up their own. M o s t disregarded this option and effectively delayed the onset  Gillis, Youth and History, x-xi. The "myth" of rebellious youth North American culture was first refuted using Canadian data in F. Elkin and W. A. Westley, "The myth of the adolescent culture," American Sociological Review 20 (1955): 680-4. 14  15  Neil Postman, The Disappearance of Childhood (N.Y.: Delacorte Press, 1982).  xiv o f adult responsibilities. These youth directed their entire income toward satisfying their own immediate needs and wants, and not those o f the family economy. Largely, they enjoyed both independent income and freedom to decide how to dispose o f their leisure time, attributes Barbara Hanawalt assumed prerequisite i n defining a real youth culture.  16  M y tribute to scholars who have channelled me into the perspective that shaped this dissertation is sprinkled throughout its footnotes. Three histories featuring young peoples' lives front and centre are particularly relevant. The most immediate and obvious influence upon its theoretical framework and methodological perspective are the histories o f Canadian childhood constructed by N e i l Sutherland i n the last two decades, much o f which culminates i n his latest comprehensive publication, Growing U p .  17  In the 1980s, Sutherland relinquished a focus on  social policy and sentiment toward Canadian children and published a series o f studies o f the actual experiences o f some Canadian children between the 1920s and the age o f television. Oral testimony, mostly drawn from urban and rural British Columbia contexts, Vancouver and Evelyn (in the north central part o f the province), constitutes much o f Sutherland's evidence. Where this study differs from Sutherland's is in its intent to discern change as w e l l as continuity i n young peoples' experience over time. Elliott West and Elizabeth Hampsten are also noteworthy as their historical studies o f American children illustrate how historians o f children, despite using similar (autobiographical)  " T o have a real youth culture youth must have both independent income from wages and freedom to decide how to dispose of its leisure time." By this definition, the Middle Ages had no youth sub-culture. Barbara Hanawalt, Growing Up in Medieval London: the Experience of Childhood in History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993), 11-12. 16  17  Neil Sutherland, Growing Up: Childhood in English Canada from the Great War to the Age of Television (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997).  XV  sources, formulate different narratives.  18  West employed hundreds o f autobiographies i n order  to bring American frontier children back to life, arguing that through their labour children were indispensable to the development o f the frontier family economy and thereby to the frontier itself. In exploring and growing up with the country, West theorized, children thereby "shaped who they would become" and the uniqueness o f their experiences contributed to "the making o f a region, the West, and to our evolving national character."  19  Elizabeth Hampsten also  concluded that children's labour was invaluable to the family's survival in the post-frontier American Midwest, but unlike Sutherland or West, she assumed a far more critical v i e w o f their growing up experiences. Hampsten painted a bleak portrait o f children facing "regressive" shorter childhoods dominated by work — childhoods quite unlike those she thinks were evolving in American cities. Hampsten finds in their lives despair, misfortune, and hardship. Unlike the case i n this dissertation, we see pain on almost every page. Surely at least a few lives were filled with more than just tears. What justified my focus upon youth i n the Williams Lake area as opposed to Prince George, Hope, or Nanaimo, British Columbia? M a n y o f the narratives such as those concerned with dating, alcohol and drug use, or hockey, for example, might easily have been drawn from many contemporary Canadian communities. First, for reasons more elegantly articulated by Ruth Sandwell, I desired to focus upon a British Columbia rural instead o f urban setting although neither one is in danger o f over-representation i n the history o f Canadian childhood and  Elliott West, Growing Up With The Country: childhood on the far western frontier (Albuquerque: State University of New Mexico, 1980); Elizabeth Hampsten, Settlers' Children: growing up on the Great Plains (Norman: University of Olkahoma Press, 1991). 19  West, Growing up with the Country, xviii-xix.  xvi youth.  20  Second, there was my connection with and knowledge o f this particular community and area. L i k e Katie Jean Kurtz, one o f the subjects o f this study who spent two short but formative years i n Williams Lake, I was simply drawn back to the Cariboo-Chilcotin. I am an "insider" by virtue o f my modest knowledge o f the community's and region's geography, schools, and people. Between 1980 and 1988 I taught in the local school district: for two years in Horsefly's Elementary Junior Secondary School; for four years at Anne Stevenson Junior Secondary in Williams Lake and for a year i n the city's Columneetza Senior Secondary. I was active in local community life, interacted with people from a variety o f occupational and educational background, had travelled, camped and fished across the region, and knew a little o f its history. The third part o f the answer lies in Joy Parr's Gender o f Breadwinners, a startling and compelling illustration o f how workplaces influence gender roles.  21  The book stirred me to  imagine how emergent lumber mills might have transformed what was, i n 1945, a tiny village o f wooden sidewalks, unpaved roads, and a single school. I began to ponder the ways i n which new workplaces offering permanent, well-paid, and gendered jobs might have played upon the psyche and life course o f local boys and girls i n transition from the school to work and even marriage.  In Growing U p with the Country. Elliott West made a passionate case as to why the human history o f a region cannot be complete without at least some attention being paid to its  20  See R. W. Sandwell, "Introduction," Beyond the Citv Limits: Rural History in British Columbia (Vancouver: U B C Press, 1999). 21  Joy Parr, The Gender of Breadwinners: Women. Men, and Change in Two Industrial Towns. 1880-1950 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1990).  XVII  youngest participants, children, the "frontier's most versatile workers."  22  W i t h this notion in  mind, "Rural Youth in Transition" is a history o f the most silent constituency o f a Canadian community, its young people. Stories about young people may sometimes dominate the news, but this is a story written from their point o f view. It is animated by a sense o f urgency to capture memories o f the way life was for rural youth before flickering memories o f that past mutate, fade or are lost forever. This study is intended to be heuristic. Hopefully, it w i l l motivate individuals to commit their memories to print or tape and not have others do so on their behalf. Its preserved narratives may resonate for many British Columbians, i f not Canadians, who w i l l see i n a place such as Williams Lake something o f the community they once knew. Given the paucity o f historical studies o f post-war adolescence, "Rural Y o u t h " is a deliberate effort to relay the collective story along a broad spectrum o f topics (See Appendix I). Where there was a choice, aspects o f adolescence i n this area were often amplified with several narratives and not just one. I know from my own adolescence i n Manitouwadge, in Northern Ontario, i n the early- to mid-1970s, that many subjects' stories were not particular to the Cariboo-Chilcotin. Yet this dissertation focuses upon a particular place without engaging i n a systematic comparison o f local patterns o f adolescence with those i n other regions across Canada. Thus, this piece is a partial response to Paul Axelrod's recent challenge to Canadian historians: it is far more an attempt at the individual "portrait" he prescribed as a new bearing i n  West cites a pioneer mother: "When all is said and done, man alone never settled a country, never built an empire, never even stayed 'put' unless accompanied by wife and children... the unconquerable spirit of man may subdue, but it never yet has settled a new country; the family does that." West, Growing Up with the Country. 245-8.  XV111  Canadian historiography ~ and far less an effort at the whole "canvas."  23  A s a local study o f  growing up i n one area o f the Cariboo-Chilcotin, it begins to represent the array o f adolescent experiences across this region. It can only begin to suggest what is distinctive about British Columbian and perhaps rural Canadian adolescence i n the years after the Second W o r l d War when many other Canadian places sprang from tiny settlements into small cities casting economic and cultural shadows upon their o w n rural hinterland while maintaining important continuities with their rural past. In any case, the history o f Canadian childhood and adolescence needs far more portraits before any "big picture" is assembled with any accuracy.  Paul Axelrod, "Historical Writing and Canadian Education from the 1970s to the 1990s," History of Education Quarterly 36. 1 (Spring 1996): 19-38, 38.  xix  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS  I owe a great debt to the subjects o f this study without whom this joint-narrative would not exist. Y o u must, unfortunately, remain anonymous. I truly considered it a privilege that you shared moments o f your lives with me. Those hours spent with you were easily the most pleasurable, and certainly the most illuminating aspects o f this research. First among those others I can thank publicly is L i l y Deschene who upon my arrival i n Williams Lake on a halfdozen occasions never failed to have on hand a pile o f old books, newspaper clippings, photographs, and many revealing stories o f "ordinary" life i n the village and region. Her enthusiasm for my project matched, and sometimes superseded, my own. I thank Irene Stangoe for a gracious afternoon at her Chimney Lake home where I was sequestered with some o f her sources. Gary Crosina, publisher o f the Williams Lake Tribune, granted me space to peruse o l d press copies for many hours. A m o n g teachers offering assistance, I thank O w e n Kerley, Peter Smith, Jack Berger and D i c k Shute. I owe special to thanks to those friends who lodged me i n the Laketown: Louise and John Hoyrup, Elizabeth and Paul Carnes, Linda and John Lord, and Bonnie Daudlin. In Vancouver, Sydney Eger at Lignum Ltd. head office shared with me his experience o f the Williams Lake sawmills and entrusted me with part o f the company's photo collection. Sister Ethel D e v l i n gave generously o f her time and made available to me the resources o f the archives of the Sisters o f C h i l d Jesus in North Vancouver. I offer my gratitude to Father Leo Casey who did the same at Oblate House i n Vancouver. A m o n g graduate students, I thank both Jacqueline Gresko and Helen B r o w n for their continued encouragement.  XX  I have reaped the benefits o f a solid and well-respected committee. Dr. Jean Barman always offered encouragement and very pragmatic advice, not the least o f which was haranguing me (but i n the kindest manner) about the need to "get done!" I thank Dr. J. Donald W i l s o n for his engagement with my manuscript, i n offering ideas, referring me to new and relevant sources. Thank you for meticulous editing. Finally, I thank my supervisor, Dr. N e i l Sutherland, who endured earlier (and as only he knows), pitiful versions o f this draught, with remarkable grace. I have learned much from you about writing i n general, but particularly in the way o f writing with economy. I f I have, i n the end, failed to "prune sharply," it is not for your lack o f trying. Thank y o u for helping me find what I was trying to say. Y o u have always had more faith i n me than I have had in my self. Together, these individuals not only supported my application for a University Graduate Fellowship, but they have, through their careful reading o f the manuscript also kept me from considerable embarrassment. M y last acknowledgement is to my family. W i l m a Grace, i n passing through the rigours o f medical training and beyond, you remained loving mother and spouse modelling for me strength and balance in the midst o f adversity. Brittany Grace and Christopher Anthony, your needs I sometimes overlooked while devoting my attention to the lives o f other children.  1  Chapter 1  Memory, Oral Narrative and Reconstructing Adolescence  One feature o f the modern sensibility is dazzling in its implausibility: the idea that what has been forgotten is what forms our character, our personality, our soul. 1  N o matter how integrated, coherent, and structured our experience o f the past 'already' is one cannot deny that the historian must piece together, interpret, articulate, and configure remnants o f the past in constructing a narrative about it. A n d this w i l l always leave room for suspicions o f misrepresentation. 2  In December 1948, fourteen year old Katie Jean Kurtz was uprooted from her native Vancouver home, school and neighbourhood. Hoping to overcome financial misfortune, the 3  Kurtz family packed the family car and set out to seek fresh economic opportunities in the tiny village o f Williams Lake located over 500 kilometres away i n the Central Interior region o f British Columbia. Katie Jean, her parents and three siblings took refuge from their first Cariboo winter in two rough cabins. Katie Jean still remembers her father's humiliation at the time: "He didn't want anyone from Vancouver to come up and see how we were living." After struggling with an autocourt enterprise in Williams Lake for less two years, Katie Jean's family abandoned the village i n the summer o f 1950, the summer she turned sixteen. Katie Jean Kurtz, i n her late sixties at the time o f the interview, treasured wonderful  'Ian Hacking, "Memoro-politics, trauma and the soul," History of the Human Sciences 7. 2 (1994): 29-52, 33. Andrew P. Norman, "Telling It Like It Was: Historical Narratives on Their Own Terms," History and Theory X X X , 2(1991): 119-135, 128. 2  A11 forty-three of the subjects of this study have been given pseudonyms. All including the Japanese and Sikh males were given Anglicized first names to reflect the fact they grew up within the dominant society with such names. 3  2 memories o f that short but influential period o f residence in Williams Lake. Unlike her father, Katie Jean quickly fell i n love with the village and the new range o f activities compressed into an area roughly the size o f her o l d Vancouver neighbourhood. In January 1949, she was ushered into a wood-heated classroom i n the annex o f the Williams Lake Elementary-Senior H i g h School which now served as the high school. The principal, Joe Phillipson (later the deputy minister o f Education), introduced her to O w e n Kerley, her new teacher, and to her new class, twenty-one grade nines and tens, many o f whom were from outlying ranches and boarding in private homes or at the Catholic-run residence, Rosary H a l l . Katie Jean was quickly accepted by her classmates, especially the girls whom she found to be especially friendly. Almost immediately she joined in some o f their activities. She fell i n love with skating, for example, a favourite after school pastime with village girls. A m o n g the first items ordered through the Sears catalogue were a red parka and skates, items cherished and still i n her possession. This temporary residence in Williams Lake became an impressive period in Katie Jean Kurtz's life course, shaping her identity as well as her long-time image o f the region. It was there she met J i m Holt. Reminiscing about her teen years, she recalled many happy hours with the elderly cowpuncher whose horses, photographs and tales o f cattle drives and life out in Chilcotin only served to whet her appetite for horses, the outdoors, and the dream o f owning a ranch one day. Indeed, to the disappointment o f her parents who re-established themselves back at the coast, Katie Jean returned to interior British Columbia several years later to teach i n a small and isolated one-room Chilcotin school. She was then barely out o f her teens, armed with four months o f Normal School, and fortified by an image o f a romantic west forged i n those early adolescent years. M a n y years later, she would return yet again, this time as an artist  3 in order to capture impressions of the Chilcotin. Katie Jean's oral narrative, lovingly told, provides a glimpse of adolescence in and around Williams Lake in the first decade following the Second World War. It also suggests Katie Jean was in many ways typical of girls her age in the village. She was raised in a two parent household with "strict" parents. She grew up performing myriad domestic tasks but never paid labour outside the household. Her enrollment in the only village school largely determined her peer socialization. Warm friendships were struck immediately with schoolmates in her small, "closely-knit" combined grade nine and ten class. Her friends were local or country "White" girls as Aboriginal heritage was usually hidden or downplayed. Katie Jean was also typical insofar as she abided by prevailing norms concerning a teenaged girl's freedom. Her parents, especially her father, imposed temporal and spatial restrictions upon her leisure time. Both parental and societal values were internalized as "common sense" understandings. Like most girls Katie Jean did not consider challenging parental restrictions, nor did she fight prevailing norms. As adults, she and the other subjects of this study expressed that cultural hegemony in clear and simple terms: "I didn't even think about it [rebelling]," or "We didn't even question it." Of the many hours teenage girls spent out-of-doors, walking, swimming at the nearby lake, biking and hiking in the summer and skating, tobaggoning and cross-country skiing in the winter, most were spent in the company of other females. Katie-Jean recalls only "a few" girls in her grade nine and ten class associated somewhat more freely with boys in their leisure time. By the time Katie Jean left Williams Lake just before her sixteenth birthday, she had not yet, she claimed, ever dated, used alcohol or drugs, and aside from walking to and from the local skating rink, broken an implicit sunset curfew: home by dark, summer or winter.  4  In 1968, twenty years after Katie Jean stepped inside the village's school, another youth, thirteen year-old Cal Reid, left one of Williams Lake's small elementary schools and entered grade eight at Williams Lake Junior-Senior Secondary School. Cal was typical of male subjects born in the 1950s in the Laketown. He grew up in a two-parent household with a modicum of household chores (which he seems to have performed with more enthusiasm than most males). Like most subjects of Katie Jean's generation, much of his adolescent leisure time was spent out-of-doors whether at the family lakeside cabin, at a relative's or friend's ranch, or skating at the local rink or on the frozen lake just below the village. As with most mid-teen males (but not females) in Williams lake, Cal had little difficulty securing a wellpaying job part-time while going to school. He took it for granted full-time employment offering excellent remuneration and benefits was a likely option if he dropped out of school before graduating grade twelve. One of the aspects of adolescent culture that had changed most dramatically since Katie Jean's time was school culture. The student population had grown tremendously over the two decades. Thus, Cal Reid, born and raised in the Laketown and familiar with many of its adolescents, found the elementary-secondary school transition an almost overwhelming experience. He recalled age thirteen as a transformative year that stands out in his memory of adolescence: "Grade eight. That was the big one." Here he stood, thrust into halls teeming with hundreds of students, enough grade eights alone to warrant multiple classes by grade: Grade 8A, 8B, 8C, and so on. Once in the high school, Cal faced stiff competition from his peers in athletics. Ironically, despite a greater offering of extra-curricular sports in the high school compared to their elementary school, proportionately fewer students - a small core — participated on school  5 sports teams. Consequently, many grade seven students active i n sports i n their elementary schools, even athletic ones such as C a l , suddenly found themselves unable to secure positions on a high school sports team. W h i l e still i n the junior high grades, C a l abandoned extracurricular sports i n the school i n order to focus upon community-organized hockey. In 1973, Columneetza, the town's only senior high school was not only adult-structured into distinct grades and classes, but it had become decisively fragmented by youth themselves. C a l recalls youth sorted themselves into well-defined social groupings. Cliques, a palpable daily feature o f school life, also permeated the school-community boundary. M a l e and female subjects both articulated a male-oriented typology o f youth groups. Cliques coalesced around interests, the "heads" around drug usage for instance, and the "jocks" around school athletics. They formed around common lifestyles. Terms such as "ranch," "cowboy" or "dorm kids" often referred to the same individuals. Other nuclei included a common geographic origin. Youth from Glendale, for example, differentiated between the "the North Lakeside guys" and those "from South Lakeside," while "town" youth looked upon those "from Glendale" as "the greasers." Finally, among smaller friendship circles i n the school, there appeared at least one group self-described by a female subject as students who found each other by default: " W e were the no-fitters." C a l R e i d became part o f the "hockey players," an exclusive, high status, and powerful group in the school and community. B y the end o f grade twelve, C a l had witnessed interpersonal and intergroup conflict particularly those involving the "cowboys," "greasers," "hippies" or "heads" both at the school and in some "pretty major bloodbaths" i n the community. There were distinct social cleavages along ethnic and racial lines. Although structural integration o f high school Aboriginal students had begun in the 1950s with the phasing out o f  "the M i s s i o n , " the residential school southeast o f town (see Chapter 3), at this juncture "Natives," or "Indians" were far from being culturally integrated into the mainstream high school culture as it was defined by its more visible reference groups. Similarly, aside from a handful o f Indo-Canadian youth, most "East Indian" students, whose families had been attracted to the Laketown by its sawmills, kept to themselves i n the school and withdrew entirely from community events. Cal Reid entered his mid-teens preoccupied by schoolwork, a well-paying part-time job, hockey and partying. B y his late teens, unfettered by parental strictures, his weekends consisted o f hockey games and post-game drinking alongside teammates. Laketown teens' drinking habits are legion, i f not hyperbolic, among C a l ' s generation. In Katie Jean's adolescence, substance abuse was mostly confined to alcohol consumption among males i n their late teens. In sharp contrast, among C a l R e i d ' s graduating class o f 1973, drinking and general substance abuse became prolific among both males and females i n the mid-teen years. Miraculously, like many teens his age, male or female, C a l survived the weekend ritual o f racing home inebriated over rough gravel roads i n the early hours o f the morning following a country dance or party. A m o n g his friends, C a l was i n fact often the one at the wheel. Unlike most o f his male friends, C a l resisted the lure o f earning " b i g bucks" i n the large local sawmills, finished high school, and left the Laketown to complete a university degree on a hockey scholarship. H e returned to Williams Lake, married, raised children and resides there now. H e makes regular forays from Williams Lake into Vancouver, "the big smoke," but he is at heart a Laketown boy. H e remains active i n the M i n o r Hockey and Williams Lake Stampede associations, two organizations that have shaped the character o f the Laketown and many o f its youth throughout the historical period.  In order to lay out the principal features o f adolescence in and around Williams Lake after the Second W o r l d War, I interviewed forty-three subjects who had grown up in the community or within a present-day hour's car drive o f current city limits. This is an area delineated i n the north, by the community o f McLeese Lake; i n the east, by Horsefly; i n the south, by 100 M i l e House, and in the west, by Alexis Creek (See Chapter 2, Illustration 1). Subjects are roughly distributed into two generations. Katie-Jean Kurtz belongs in the first group o f nineteen subjects consisting o f ten males and nine females, which for simplicity's sake, I henceforth refer to as the "first generation." Fifteen o f these subjects were born between 1929 and 1939, entered their teens between 1942 and 1952, and with the exception o f 2 seventy year olds, are today i n their sixties. The birthdates o f three older subjects are 1922, 1923, and 1927. C a l R e i d belongs to the "second generation," a group o f twenty-four subjects consisting o f thirteen males and eleven females bora between 1947 and 1962. Twenty-one entered their teens between 1964 and 1972. Demographically, by Doug Owram's definition, a l l are "babyboomers" born between the end o f the war and 1962 and with the exception a thirty-eight year old woman, a l l are i n their forties and early fifties. Notably, eight, or one-third o f this 4  generation are cohorts, although not necessarily friends, born in 1954 or 1955, who were either grade twelve graduates i n the Class o f 1973 or might have been had they been attending the school. Their narratives permitted a more detailed snapshot o f the culture o f youth in the Laketown between the late-1960s and mid-1970s. The temporal interval between the first and  Culturally speaking, or in terms of shared historical experience, baby boomers are those bom between the end of the war and 1956 and 1957. All but three younger subjects (two bom in 1959 and one in 1962) fit this cultural criteria Doug Owram, Bom At the Right Time: a history of the Baby Boom Generation (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1996), xiii, xiv.  8 second generation subjects serves to accentuate changes and continuities i n the growing up experiences over time. B y relaxing the rules o f cohort studies I also gained glimpses o f adolescence i n this area before 1945, between 1955 and 1965, as well as after 1975. I recruited subjects through the technique o f snowball sampling wherein a contact suggested other cohorts as well as their typicality. Often, this occurred while subjects leafed through a set o f photographs or school annuals. Some remarked, " O h , you should talk to . . . , " or "  would be a great person to talk to." In this regard, Cougar 1973-1993 Memory  Lane, a booklet compiled by the Class o f '73 Reunion Committee, proved an invaluable find. Cougar is a collection o f single-page questionaires completed by the graduating (and some non-graduating) students from the class o f 1973. The booklet provides information, as o f 1993, on individuals' marital status, their occupations, travels, hobbies, clubs and associations, major accomplishments, likes and dislikes, as well as changes in ambitions since graduation. Judging from the responses most questions seem to have been taken seriously. A n advertisement posted on various bulletin boards around Williams Lake yielded only one subject (See Appendix IV). Thirty-seven o f the forty-three subjects were living in and around the Laketown (or the "Lakecity" after 1981) at the time o f their interview. Some had left the area for periods o f time for school, work, and personal reasons, but returned. Most subjects usually referred me to other local residents, and rarely to those who had moved away years earlier and with whom they did not correspond. For practical and sampling purposes, I sought out some subjects who had left Williams Lake and found the remaining subjects throughout the Lower Mainland and eastern Vancouver Island. N o t only were these individuals more accessible, but I surmised their stories o f adolescence in Williams Lake would be sharply confined to exactly those years  o f residence i n the area. In fact, although Katie Jean and several other subjects endeavoured to place the Laketown experience i n the context o f adolescence elsewhere the resulting narrative proved too thin to allow many comparisons between youth i n the Laketown and elsewhere. I decided to cease recruiting new subjects when I began to reach a "saturation point," or corroborating stories from a variety o f subjects from one generation.  5  A semi-formal interview schedule (see Appendix I) allowed interviewees open-ended responses, but was formulated to address key questions. What was the nature and extent o f paid and unpaid work performed by boys and girls? A t what ages was such work performed and what changes had there been over twenty years? H o w had sweeping province-wide educational changes played out i n this area? H o w had the school and its role i n young lives changed over time? H o w had changes to the local economy, notably the rather sudden emergence o f new and seemingly-permanent workplace (large sawmills i n the fifties and a burgeoning service industry in the sixties), affected Williams Lake families? H o w had such changes affected family relations and gender identities? What role had the church played i n their lives? H o w had young people spent their leisure time? What changes had occurred in their popular culture? A n d , in general, what difference did class, gender and ethnicity make i n their growing up years?  M y choice to rely upon oral history, a methodology based on memory and voluntary storytelling, rather than the written, iconic and documentary sources traditionally favoured by historians o f childhood and youth drew restrained criticism from one local historian. This was  This is only true for the non-Aboriginal and non-Indo-Canadian subjects. Bertaux, Daniel, ed. Biography and Society: The Life-History Approach in the Social Sciences (Beverley Hills, Cal.: Sage Publications, 1981; see also, Carl F. Kaestle, "Standards of Evidence in Historical Research: How do we Know When we Know?" History of Education Quarterly 32, 3 (Fall 1992): 361-66. 5  "soft" history. I did search for the traditional "hard" sources such as manuscripts, diaries and journals. 1 skimmed material such as maps and newspaper clippings (many of these undated), in the Williams Lake Library archival room. Unfortunately, I discovered the local archives housed in the Museum of the Cariboo-Chilcotin closed to my research. Its curator, Diana French, a well-known and long-time local historian of the Cariboo-Chilcotin, noted my persistence but informed me flatly she was familiar with the museum's holdings and made it explicit that none of the sources that lay unsorted in the museum pertained to my study. The 6  provincial archives failed to yield reminiscences of childhood and youth in this area. Among subjects themselves, roughly a third of the subjects stated they had kept a childhood diary or journal at some time, but only one woman had done so systematically for a period of years. While all other subjects had lost or discarded such sources, this woman still held her volumes of diaries which she consulted before and during our interview. Among published works, local classics still only offer a select perspective of the region's past, often as a mythical frontier. Elizabeth Furniss recently summed its history up quite simply: "The settling of the Chilcotin by non-Natives is reduced to the cliche of the American Wild West." Places, like people, are also subject to the so-called erasure and 7  reinscripture of culture. In depicting veritable human struggle in the wilderness or on isolated ranches, local authors have also narrated an ethnocentric "imagined community" that generally  See Diana French, The Road Runs West, a Century Along the BeUa-Coola/Chilcotin Road (Madeira Park. Harbour Publishing, 1994). 6  For exhaustive, and exhausting elaboration of this point, see Elizabeth Furniss, "Pioneers, Progress, and the Myth of the Frontier: The Landscape of Public History in Rural British Columbia," BC Studies. No. 115/116. (Autumn/Winter 1997/8): 7-44. Her anthropological study of contemporary "race"-relations in Williams Lake, however, is an excellent, if not provocative reference. See The Burden of History: Colonialism and the Frontier Myth in a Rural Canadian Community (Vancouver: U B C Press, 1999). 7  11  overlooks cultural plurality. Certainly, most local authors overlooked children. For example, 8  although it is sometimes apparent how central his part-Aboriginal spouse and child are in his life, Eric Collier's well-known 1959 "classic Canadian wilderness tale" of life around Meldrum Creek just east of Williams Lake is too often Collier's romantic recollection of his own adventure. This imbalance was addressed only recently by the Lee brothers. This 9  10  exception aside, even the most recent blossoming of popular local history, including Diana French's well-written Road Runs West, blooms mostly on old wood as the colourful offerings continue their focus upon notable pioneers and adult ventures. Remarkably, even female authors still focus mainly on men and men's activities. In short, local authors have yet to focus upon the actual experiences of children and youth in any meaningful never mind systematic way." The only academic treatise of children's experiences in this area remains Elizabeth Furniss' tightly-focused anthropological study of the Cariboo Indian Residential School experience. It is therefore appropriate to apply Jay Meechling's observation that children and 12  youth remain, "the last underclass to have their history written from their point of view" to the  This observation was first noted of nation-states. See Benedict R. Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (London: Verso. 1983). s  See Three Against the Wilderness (Toronto: General Paperbacks, 1991 [1959]). In fairness to Collier, other works are much more preoccupied with adult perspectives, in particular, Richmond P. Hobson, Jr. Grass Beyond the Mountains with its grand subtitle, Discovering the Last Great Cattle Frontier on the North American Continent (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, Inc., 1993 [1951] ), and Paul St. Pierre's "bestselling Canadian classic," Breaking Smith's Quarter Horse (Toronto: Ryerson Press, 1966). 9  Todd and Eldon Lee, Tall in the Saddle: Ranch Life in the Cariboo (Surrey: Heritage House, 1995); and From California to North 52: Cariboo Experiences (Prince George: Caitlin Press, 1994). 10  "See Irene Stangoe, Cariboo-Chilcotin: Pioneer People and Places (Surrey: Heritage House Pub, 1994), as well as Looking Back at the Cariboo Chilcotin (Surrey: Heritage House, 1997), Diana French, The Road Runs West: A Century Along the Bella Coola/Chilcotin Road (Madeira Park: Harbour Pub, 1994); and Veera Bonner, June Bliss and Hazel Litterick, Chilcotin: Preserving Pioneer Memories (Surrey: Heritage House, 1995). Elizabeth Furniss' book was "one component of a broader research program undertaken by the Cariboo Tribal Council to assess the long term psychological and social impacts of the residential schools on their communities." See her Victims of Benevolence: The Dark Legacy of The Williams Lake Residential School (Vancouver: Arsenal Pulp Press, 1992), 9. 12  12  history and literature o f the Cariboo-Chilcotin.  13  Some traditional sources served to contextualize the oral testimony. I examined an entire year's run o f the local newspaper, The Williams Lake Tribune, for select years (17 years total) between 1931 and 1974.  14  The legislative library in Victoria remains the only depository  i n which it is possible to thumb pre-1960 paper copies. I read through the minutes o f the first few years o f meetings o f the board o f School District N o . 27 after consolidation o f schools i n 1946. I consulted all published Annual Reports o f the Public Schools o f British Columbia from 1871 through 1975 especially the reports o f School Inspectors and school enrollment figures, the latter o f which I used to compile Appendices II and HI. Other useful sources were acquired selectively, mostly through personal contacts. These included newspaper clippings, photographs, a dozen or so unpublished manuscripts (most relating to First Nation children at "the Mission"), the minute book o f the local Parent-Teacher Association meetings between 1949 and 1959, as well as secondary school annuals. These "hard" sources preserved certain logistical facts, for example the numbers o f pupils i n a class, its ratio o f boys to girls, the year one school expanded, another was constructed, and so on. But they provided little insight into what N e i l Sutherland has called the "interior" dimensions o f childhood: how one was treated within the family, the sorts o f activities one preferred, the age or year when one might have begun to drive a tractor, cook a full-course meal, date, or begin to consume alcohol. School board minutes or annual reports easily establish the historical "hard facts" o f policy changes, for example, the simple record o f  Jay Meechling, "Oral Evidence and the History of American Children's Lives," Journal of American History 74, 2 (September 1987): 579-586, 579. 13  '"Years examined: 1931-33, 1943-46,1949, 1954-55, 1960, 1965-67, 1970, 1973-74.  the school district's decision to bus students in the fall o f 1949, but they completely fail to endow the event with the specific and personal meaning Katie Jean still associates with that watershed event.  I sought to minimize some o f the limitations o f research involving adult memories explored by autobiographers, novelists, narrative psychologists, and historians.  15  Oral  testimony is limited in its ability to recover exact dates and figures. Even i f autobiographical memory has developed i n individuals by the age o f four so that they can recall an image o f an important event i n their life, the subjects o f this study could usually only approximate figures, ages or dates in their youth.  16  Oral testimony proved far more useful i n harvesting anecdotes  and impressions o f the past than in obtaining facts and figures. Surely historians should expect something more practical from oral testimony than insights into how human beings construct or otherwise relate to their past. A s the furor over recent revisionist histories claiming the Holocaust never existed illustrates, '"It matters enormously that our histories be true.'" acceptable life scripts?  18  17  D i d individuals merely present me with socially  If they perceived themselves as protagonists and their life  A systematic review of the literature is redundant considering the overviews which exist. See Neil Sutherland, "Listening to the Winds of Childhood," Chapter 1, Growing Up: Sherna Berger Gluck and Daphne Patai, Women's Words: The Feminist Practice of Oral History (New York. Routledge, 1991); Ian Hacking, "Memoro-politics, trauma and the soul," 1994; Veronica Strong-Boag, "Contested Space: The Politics of Canadian Memory," Journal of the Canadian Historical Association/revue de la Societe Historiaue du Canada 5 (1994); William H. Sewell, Jr. "Introduction: Narratives and Social Identities," Social Sciences History 16, 1 (Spring 1992): 479-488; David Thelen, "Memory and American History," Journal of American History 75, 4 (March 1989): 1117-1129; Donald Polkinghome, Narrative Knowing and the Human Sciences (Albany, N.Y.: SUNY Press, 1988); Trevor Lummis, Listening to History: the authenticity of oral evidence (London: Hutchinson, 1987); and Paul Thompson, The Voice of the Past: Oral History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1978). 15  Patrick Huyghe, cited in Emmy E. Werner, Pioneer Children on the Journey West (Boulder, Col.: Westview Press, 1995), 4. i6  Cited in Norman, "Telling It Like It Was," 131.  ,7  Polkinghorne. Narrative Knowing. 162.  l8  14  circumstances as "adventure," how accurate were those projections?  19  T o what extent did  individuals consciously or unconsciously downplay or edit out details o f the way "it really was" in their youth? A l l adult perspectives o f the past, regardless o f their form, warrant the historian's skepticism. W h y should oral narratives o f the past told by ordinary people under conditions o f anonymity to a single researcher be more suspect than written narratives o f prominent figures cast by biographers and autobiographers? Furthermore, many print sources such as police and newspaper reports and the census are rooted i n oral evidence.  20  A n oral interview actually  permits two-way communication between researcher and subject, unlike the one-way communication left to those who sift through sanitized diaries, journals, biographies, and autobiographes. Confidence i n oral narratives mounts when we begin to hear corroborating stories from a number o f people, when we begin to reach i n aggregate narratives what Bertaux and Bertaux-Wieme called a thematic saturation point.  21  A s I became more experienced with interviewing, I sought to invoke detailed reminiscences. Subjects became more confident in dating their memories when asked to associate an action or detail with a dated reference point, perhaps their grade level, or whether the described incident occurred i n the "new" house, or back at the " o l d " one. Additionally, interviews were usually preceded (sometimes punctuated) by informal talk stimulated by photo albums, school annuals, or by my growing collection o f photographs o f the village, classmates,  Kax\ E. Scheibe, "Self Narratives and Adventure," in Theodore R. Sarbin, Narrative Psychology. The Storied Nature of Human Conduct (New York: Praeger Publishers, 1986), 130-1; also see Sewell, "Introduction: Narrative and Social Identities," Social Science History l9  Neil Sutherland, "When You Listen to the Winds of Childhood, How Much Can You Believe?" Curriculum Inquiry 22 3 (Fall 1992), 7. 20  Bertaux. Biography and Society. 1981.  21  15 hockey teams, Scout and Brownie groups. Such things resurrected episodes, memories clustered about a particular event and appeared to "lift into consciousness the more abstruse and out-of-the-way facts or series o f facts."  22  While all interviews are ultimately unique experiences, the interview with Katie Jean Kurtz typified my procedure. Katie Jean, like other subjects, was invited to take part in the study through a process set out by university protocols on research which, among other things, stipulates the voluntary nature o f being a subject as well as the right at any time to withdraw themselves, or any information provided, from the project (See Appendix V ) . With few exceptions, subjects were interviewed in their homes where I spent between one and a half to five hours. Four hours were spent at Katie Jean's home, three o f these on the formal interview itself. Although I had already done so by telephone, I re-explained the study, again sought consent to make an audio-tape o f the interview on condition o f anonymity and impressed upon her that either one o f us could stop the interview or taping at any time, and that she would later receive a copy o f the tape or tapes. If memory is episodic one takes advantage o f that phenomenon by attempting to trigger clusters o f memories associated with even a small object or event. I learned to begin interviews with the tape recorder running. After instructing Katie to nod toward the tape recorder, or turn it off herself i f she wished to tell a story " o f f the record," Katie Jean began to reminisce aloud as she reviewed her collection o f photographs. These transposed her into the ordinary daily spaces in which she had lived her life: in and around her home; skiing with a close friend; with her dog on the Stampede grounds; alone beside the tree on a hillside which she recalled marked one o f her boundaries; with horses; or among her 1949 class o f grade  'Beatrice Webb cited in Thompson, Voice of the Past. 167.  16  nines and tens, all save one o f whom she could identify by name. Except for opportunities to tell a story "off the record," the tape recorder was left running continuously. Conscious o f the recorder, Katie and other subjects undoubtedly left out some stories, but audio-tape also captured many other accounts fresh and flowing i n vivo without the mad scrambling with pen and paper, or the necessity o f having to ask to hear the story again, a practice which in my experience effectively killed the narrative stream. I could not be sure o f what would be said i n future interviews or what new questions would be raised which would force a re-examination o f interview tapes. Furthermore, I intended to make transcripts which I could sort for patterns. The interview schedule helped standardize the interviews. I attempted to cover a l l questions with each subject, often rearranging their order to make for more natural conversation. Sometimes, I stopped interviewees to ask a question. While some interviewers may be perceived to intrude omnipotently and others to remain too politely detached, I struck a compromise. Robert Harney pointed out good interviewers attempt to minimize the effect o f their presence but do not hesitate to interrupt in order to "ensure honest results," for example, to challenge that which seems "patently wrong." Raising contradictions or similarities with other testimonies could encourage the interviewee to expand upon central themes."  23  The schedule also evened out peoples' tendency either to prolixity or taciturnity. Without prompting questions, some passive subjects failed to depart spontaneously upon their own stories o f adolescence. They appeared reticent and their stories vague and general, lacking in the details or any sort o f conflict which root them to place and time. Were people feeling the need to spare the details o f what they may have decided was an uninteresting story? Were  RobertF. Harney, Oral Testimony and Ethnic Studies. Toronto: MHSO, 1986, [5].  23  17  some wanting to tell a large and important story but left paralyzed not knowing where to begin? After all, when an "historian from UBC" is at your kitchen table with a tape recorder waiting to "collect" your memories, how much of the past can you recollect all at once? I learned at such times to resort to the strategy of the miniaturist, encouraging subjects to begin by detailing the everyday spaces in which they grew, beginning with the layouts of their homes, its appliances, their yard and neighbourhood. An inventory of seemingly trivial details often gave flight to interesting stories I sensed were not yet configured into well-honed plots, or scripts, and which might not have been told "on demand." Undoubtedly I influenced the direction and depth of the stories that were told. I did so, consciously and unconsciously, through my own limited knowledge of the area, through the sources I acquired and brought out in the interview, through my selection of questions, because of my very presence and what I might have represented to subjects. Additionally, the emplotment of narratives was probably influenced by the greater contemporary sensitivity to issues of gender and race inequality, or physical, emotional and sexual abuse not only in residential school, but more generally in society. There in my collection of copies of old 24  photographs was a 1910 photo of Cariboo Indian Residential School much the way it looked in the early fifties when one subject, Norman Flit, resided there. Unprompted, Norman's finger went straight to the old fence that he recalled had separated the girlsfromthe boys, his sister from him. For a long while, Norman directed the story. That fence became the springboard for finely detailed, but overwhelmingly bitter memories of his school days.  25  See for example, Breaking the Silence: An Interpretive Study of Residential School Impact and Healing as Illustrated by the Stories of First Nations Individuals (Ottawa: Assembly of First Nations, 1994). 24  Apparently the fence was gone by 1956 and boys and girls could be seen playing together two years after afireravaged most of the original buildings. Father Leo Casey, "An interview with Sister Josephine Ludwig" (Unpublished paper in possession of author, 1995). 25  18  I was surprised at how little subjects were moved by the sorts o f agendas that one comes to expect i n academic analysis. Most subjects did not themselves point out gendered employment patterns in the Laketown. N o r were most male and female subjects critical o f the racialised and gendered nature o f sport and organized activities although one woman did laugh exclaiming, " W h e n the hockey game was on that was it!" Commonly, two photographs were shown to subjects i n juxtaposition. One is o f young males playing hockey i n front o f the community, another o f Queen o f the Lake participants posing in bathing suits i n front o f the community (See Chapter 7). These merely evoked comments concerning either details or the identity o f individuals in the photographs such as " O h , that's remember those boats," or "That looks like  's backyard," "I  ."  The issue o f voice is an important consideration i n this dissertation. The furious debate over appropriation o f voice and concern over the erasure and re-inscripture o f subjects' identities first waged in the fields o f literary criticism, anthropology, and culture theory, has over the last decade also helped reconfigure history.  26  In fact, questions o f power relations i n  memory-making seem to have eclipsed the problematic nature o f memory per se.  27  David  Thelen summarized this recent historiographical problem: "Since people's memories provide security, authority, legitimacy, and finally identity in the present, struggles over the possession and interpretation o f memories are deep, frequent and bitter."  28  I reconcile the oral narratives employed i n this study as "joint narratives" constructed  See for example, Linda Alcoff, "The Problem of Speaking for Others," Cultural Critique (Winter 1991-92): 5-32  s  'For elaboration see Strong-Boag, "Contested Space: The Politics of Canadian Memory." Thelen, "Memory and American History," 1126.  !  19 by interviewer and interviewee. not speaking "for" subjects.  30  29  I perceive the narratives as an artifact o f speaking " w i t h " and  This story is not entirely "their" story. A s interviewer and  writer, I am hardly the "neutral medium" that some researchers have considered ideal.  31  Living  subjects like Katie Jean, C a l R e i d , and Norman Flit are dynamic sources. They suggested new ideas and brought their o w n sources into the research, often i n the form o f photographs and newspaper clippings. They corrected themselves, or my misconceptions. Whether or not I asked, they offered explanations for particular actions. They suggested typicality i n adolescent experience and elaborated with examples. Even now most are untapped sources who can be contacted with new questions. Sadly, i f past practice is any indication, too few o f them w i l l ever commit their own stories to tape or other storage medium o f their own accord. This history compromises between featuring people's own experiences verbatim, analyzing emerging patterns in that experience, as w e l l as historical contextualization. It examines the collective experience o f subjects, navigating a course between minimalist author intrusion o f the sort seen i n Julie Cruikshank's Life L i v e d L i k e a Story and the reductionism o f  0n joint authorship, see J. P. Roos, "From Farm to Office: Family, Self-Confidence and the New Middle-Class," Life Stories/Recrits de vie 3 (1987): 7-20. Polkinghorne gleans from the philosophy of history to provide a good overview of the idea of "joint narratives" in history. Unfortunately, Polkinghorne drowns in his generalizations about the nature of historical narratives and hermeneutical understandings and so fails to offer much in the way of the "rigorous methods and sensitivity" he feels social psychologists can offer historians. Polkinghorne, Narrative Knowing. Practitioners of oral history, on the other hand, have tackled methodology more pragmatically and vigourously. Thompson, The Voice of the Past, and Lummis, Listening to History. 29  See for example, Harry Robinson and Wendy Wickwire, Write It on Your Heart: The Epic World of an Okanagan Storyteller (Penticton, BC: Theytus Books, 1989). 30  'James H. McMillan and Sally Schumacher, Research in Education: A Conceptual Approach 2nd ed. (denview, Dl.: Scott, Foreman and Company, 1989), 265-6. 3  20 Lois Weis's Working Class Without W o r k .  32  It attempts to recapture some sense o f the variety  o f the adolescent experience as influenced by different social locations while recognizing even exemplary scholarly works cannot satisfactorily recreate the multiple paths to adulthood followed by real people.  33  Some contextualization was necessary as subjects did not offer  stories o f the past that were chronologically or thematically ordered. N o r did they spontaneously place their experiences directly in historical context, for example, o f provincial labour or school practices. A s k e d to speak about their own lives, subjects often did not, and could not, place their own experiences i n the context o f others' lives. Ultimately, what has been constructed is an aggregate narrative o f transcripts.  Stories  o f individual lives have been sacrificed for the sake o f a whole new story. Individual's coherent stories have transcribed, then atomized and the bits reassembled into a novel narrative, a story o f stories with a beginning, middle and end perhaps quite unlike any most subjects might have envisioned. I have tried to get the story "right" nonetheless hoping that subjects themselves w i l l , upon some reflection, see it as faithful a rendition o f the past as one can achieve out o f dozens o f different paths.  Except for its scholarly introduction, Life Lived Like A Story, a collaborative work, offers little further contextualization for three aboriginal women's stories. Julie Cruikshank with Angela Sidney, Kitty Smith, and Annie Ned, Life Lived Like a Story: Life Stories of Three Yukon Elders (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 1990). At the other end of the spectrum is a good illustration of ethnographic work wherein "an ambitious fieldworker is imposing a rather narrow and crude portrait on a reasonably subtle people" (John Van Maanen, Tales of the Field: On Writing Ethnography (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1988), 48. In Lois Weis's critical but ultimately unsatisfying ethnography, adolescent boys in a suburb of a "rust belt" American city are reduced to virulently sexist and racist caricatures who seek little more out of life than a job (like their father's) and domestic wives who will stay at home. At the same time, teenage girls, in contrast, are seen performing neat and rational ends-means calculations aspiring to professional careers while putting off marriage and thoughts of marriage until they are allfinanciallysecure. See Working Class Without Work: High School Students in a De-industrializing Economy (New York and London: Routledge, 1990). 32  See Harvey J. Graff, Conflicting Paths: Growing Up in America (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1995).  33  21  Chapter 2 "Alas, Civilization is Catching U p ! "  Accounts o f ordinary life in the Cariboo-Chilcotin region o f British Columbia in the 1920s and 1930s often capture people engaged i n intense day-to-day struggles with a hostile environment, risky and labour-intense ranching ventures, isolation, transportation difficulties, and even severe material privation. Indeed, even toughened residents o f Anahim, then a 1  lonely spot i n the west Chilcotin without store, post office or school, populated by Aboriginal peoples and a few British gentry, acknowledged the difficulties. A n a h i m might not have been the end o f the world, some admitted, "'but you could almost see it from there.'"  2  A white male-driven mythology about "guts" and "hard work" conquering all still narrates the lives o f many people who make a living from the land in this part o f the province. The roots o f a regional ranching ethos can be traced to earlier days (as late as 1935), when selffulfilment for men like W i l d Horse Panhandle was still measured i n relation to their conquest o f a w i l d and feminized Chilcotin frontier: Yeah - that's my gold mine. Grass! Free Grass reaching' north into unknown country. Land — lots o f it ~ untouched — just waiting for hungry cows, and some buckeroos that can ride and have guts enough to put her over. 3  "For compelling descriptions, see for example, Richmond P. Hobson, Jr., Grass Beyond the Mountains: Discovering the Last Great Cattle Frontier on the North American Continent (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1951), at the time of the writing of this dissertation, the basis of a successful CBC television series," Nothing too Good for a Cowboy"; as well Eric Collier, Three Against the Wilderness (Toronto: General Paperbacks, 1959); and Diana French, The Road Runs West: A Century Along the Bella-Coola/Chilcotin Road (Madeira Park: Harbour Publishing, 1994). Cited in French, The Road Runs West. 97.  2  Hobson, Grass Bevond the Mountains. 16.  3  22 The myth and mentality o f the conquest o f a frontier casts long historical shadows. In 4  1970, near the end o f the study period, Chilcotin, a vast expanse o f land west o f the Fraser River, persisted "as much a state o f mind as a piece o f geography." A n d W i l l i a m s Lake, "Heart o f Cariboo Country," continued to reflect and market its historical cow-town persona i n the face o f major diversification o f the local economy and creeping change i n the region. Visitors and newcomers to the town and region, including Prime Minister Pierre Elliott Trudeau, gained a sense o f "western" heritage and residents' laid-back "unaffected" manner when experiencing the annual Williams Lake Stampede.  5  Some quickly sensed the western  image was deeply rooted and that the ubiquitous jeans, checkered shirts, cowboy boots and Stetsons were for many residents, perennial, and not ceremonial garb. One observer noted, correctly, Williams Lake was "an all-year cowboy town that doesn't go western only when they are putting on the wildest western blowout [the Williams Lake Stampede] this side o f Calgary." Change, however, was sweeping the area. "Cows outnumber people i n the B i g Sky country," lamented a Williams Lake newspaper in 1971, "but, alas, civilization is catching up."  6  A regional self-image o f Williams Lake as a "western" community continues to be narrated through promotion pamphlets, postcards, and annual editions o f a commerciallysuccessful series o f Williams Lake Stampede posters. B y the late 1980s, Williams Lake, dubbed "the Lakecity" (it achieved city status i n 1981), still boasted British Columbia's busiest  "Williams Lake's frontier legacy as a "rural settler colony community" is explored in Furniss' critical anthropological study which is also largely unsympathetic of past or present "cowboy" or settler realities. See Elizabeth Furniss, The Burden of History: Colonialism and the frontier myth in a rural Canadian community (Vancouver: UBC Press, 1999). For the argument in the American context, see Patricia Nelson Limerick, The Legacy of Conquest: The Unbroken Past of the American West (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1987). The Williams Lake Tribune. 12 August 1970,1-3.  5  ^Tribune. 13 March 1971. For invaluable insights into the character of ranchers in the Cariboo-Chilcotin and their perceptions of change, see the engaging work, Terri Cundy Aihoshi, "The Best Place to Be": "Keepin' Cowboy" Through Narratives of Place, Experience, and Identity" (York University, Toronto. Unpublished M. A. thesis, 1992).  23 stockyards and Canada's second largest rodeo. 7  8  Today, many local residents maintain close  contact with the outdoor life o f " B i g Sky Country," and harbour a keen sense of, and pride in the region's distinctive character, even its isolation from urbanized southwestern British Columbia. Certainly, many who grew up in the country, including some subjects o f this study, possess an intimate understanding of, as one subject put it, "that ranch toughness." That special long-term attachment to the land, or as Elizabeth Furniss put it, a "quasi-indigenous local identity," has served to spawn a non-Aboriginal demand for greater voice i n the future development o f the region.  9  For decades, several key events helped define the character o f W i l l i a m s Lake. One was the Fall Cattle and B u l l Sale with its Klondyke Night festivities, which drew many families from across the region.  10  In 1944, for example, the event drew an estimated attendance o f  1200, twice the population o f the village.  11  The famous Williams Lake Stampede is a more  consistent reference point i n subjects' narratives. H e l d at various times i n late spring or early summer (for years it has been fixed on the July long weekend) the Stampede sometimes coincided with a Queen o f the Lake contest and almost invariably with another for Stampede Queen. Between 1933 and 1950, the winner was the girl who sold the most tickets to the  'Diana French, "Celebration 60", unpublished manuscript [n.d.] (1989); for overviews of Williams Lake history, see John A. Roberts, Cariboo: a brief history. 2nd. Ed. (Williams Lake: Williams Lake Public Library, 1986); Irene Stangoe, "Nostalgia" Tribune Casual Country. Annual Supplement, 1983. Williams Lake Profile. 9.  8  burden of History. 98-103. '"Williams Lake Profile. 14. "Tribune. 12 October 1944, 1.  24  Stampede or Dance.  12  The tradition was interrupted twice, first by the Second W o r l d War and  again beginning in 1951 when Juanita Haines ceased sales objecting she felt she was being "raffled off." The contest resumed i n 1957 and was i n place for the visit o f Princess Margaret the next year. Whether Aboriginal people, as a subordinate group, "played Indian" or expressed agency i n displaying a distinct cultural identity, they were seen as w i l l i n g participants in such events.  13  From 1950 until 1964, the practice was to crown both "White  Queen" and "Indian Queen." In 1964, it became a non-racialised competition for a single Queen (a fact some non-Aboriginals continue to lament as a loss for the "Indian" people) with criteria including "horsemanship, personality, special abilities and beauty o f face and figure." Two years later, Joan Palmantier not only became the first Queen to represent both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal communities, but went on to become Indian Princess o f Canada the next year.  14  The Stampede Queen tradition endures to this day despite criticism. Some perceive it  is but a beauty contest and suggest the competition for Queen be turned into one for "ambassador," opening it up for males.  15  "Who's to be Queen of the Stampede?" Tribune. 30 March 1933, 8; "Stampede and Elk Carnival to be a Riot of Fun," Tribune. 13 April 1933, 1. ,2  13  For elaboration, see Burden of History. 171-73.  Manuscript, "Who's to Be Queen of the Stampede."  14  "Tribune, 24 January 1995, A8.  111. 1. M a p of Study Area. Adapted from British Columbia Regional Index (Victoria: Ministry' o f Regional Development, 1989), 328, 338.  111. 3. Williams Lake circa early 1940s. The Kings Studio, Vancouver. Courtesy o f Sisters o f C h i l d Jesus Archives, Mother House, North Vancouver.  111. 4. Cattle Drive holding area above Williams Lake [1949]. Courtesy o f Katie Jean Kurtz  111. 5. "Some local customers arriving at main gate at Stampede, 1958." Aboriginal family arriving at Stampede Grounds in rubber-tired wagons, 1958. Courtesy o f L i l Deschene.  111. 6. " W i l l i a m s Lake Stampede held in natural amphitheatre." Beautiful British Columbia (Summer 1968), 20-21.  111. 7. "1960 Williams Lake Stampede Queens." Shirley Mackenzie - Queen o f Williams Lake; Irene D i c k - Indian Queen o f A l k a l i Lake. Courtesy o f L i l Deschene.  111. 8. "Aboriginal Princess Greeting Princess Margaret, Williams Lake, 1957." B C A R S Photograph #H-05839.  31  111. 9.  Williams Lake, 1964. Beautiful British Columbia (Winter 1964), 33.  111. 10. Downtown Williams Lake, 1964. Corner o f Railway (Mackenzie) and Oliver Streets downtown Williams Lake. Williams Lake Times. 16 September, 1964, 1.  32 A n infamous event defining the Laketown in the eyes o f locals and visitors who experienced it, and one that was relevant to youth, is "Squaw H a l l " which has passed into folklore as a metaphor for the drunken revelry associated with Stampedes of the past.  16  In 1946  two directors o f the Stampede including police constable B i l l Sharpe suggested Aboriginal peoples who made annual treks i n horse-drawn rubber-tired wagons into the Laketown for the famous Stampede deserved their own entertainment space while "Whites" were at the "uptown" dances in Williams Lake. A forty by sixty foot dancefloor o f shiplap lumber was constructed, ringed by a single railing and evergreen trees and there Aboriginal people danced till four i n the morning. Soon folks from the uptown dances began to crash this venue discovering it to be more exciting than the uptown dances and transformed it, a sore point with Aboriginal peoples in later years.  In 1970, at a time when the "dancing" (and beer-bottle  throwing) went from dusk till dawn, 8,600 paying customers, including teenagers, passed through its door.  17  The H a l l was closed permanently i n the mid-1970s.  Overview o f Local Economy The village o f Williams Lake underwent several changes i n its economic base.  During  the colonial era o f the 1860s, the non-Aboriginal presence in the area consisted of the Oblates' St. Joseph M i s s i o n and a few non-Aboriginal settlers such as W i l l i a m Pinchbeck who occupied land in the Williams Lake valley.  18  Although the valley lay at the convergence o f the Douglas  and Fraser Canyon pack trails, it saw limited G o l d Rush traffic when a road to the goldfields was built through 150 M i l e House fourteen kilometres to the east. In 1919, Williams Lake  Of the 169 cases brought before the local magistrate during Stampede Week, all but fourteen involved liquor and the Indian Act. Tribune. 6 July 1960, 5. 16  ''Literature on display at Museum of the Cariboo-Chilcotin, Williams Lake. Irene Stangoe, Cariboo-Chilcotin Pioneer People and Places (Surrey: Heritage House, 1994), 10.  !8  33 became the northern terminus o f the provincially owned Pacific Great Eastern Railway. Within a year the site at the western end o f the valley transformed into a community with street blocks and residential lots, restaurants and hotels and a post office.  19  Compared to the Cariboo G o l d Rush or the arrival o f the railroad, the cattle industry made a more lasting impression upon the image o f the Laketown and region. B y 1941, the Cariboo-Chilcotin raised two-thirds o f the beef cattle i n Central British Columbia and W i l l i a m s Lake had become the single largest cattle shipment centre in the province.  20  Yet this  stature was only nominally impressive. Aside from the cattle industry, and limited seed potato, sheep, swine, poultry and dairy production, there was little economic diversification.  21  Ranch households survived low beef prices in the 1930s and 1940s by working traplines and lumber contracts.  In the late 1930s, for example, two young teens, T o d d and E l d o n Lee o f the  Sunnyside Ranch, half an hour's drive south o f Williams Lake, were left to manage ranch work while their father took up a spring contract to hew 500 ties. That work brought 350 dollars into the Lee household, a "bonanza" covering the cost o f the entire year's groceries.  22  During the Great Depression, the low beef prices and general economic and demographic stagnation o f the region prompted M P Louis LeBourdais to promote the Cariboo among Vancouverites.  23  Some individuals such as A l e x Lord, Inspector o f Schools, contended  John A. Roberts, Cariboo Chronicles (Williams Lake: nd]. Booklet of broadcasts over CKWL local radio, 8., as well as Irene Stangoe, Cariboo-Chilcotin Pioneer People and Places (Surrey, B.C.: Heritage House, 1994). The rapid emergence of Williams Lake is chronicled in Wrigley's British Columbia Directory. 1920 and 1921. ,9  Census of Canada. 1941. "Livestock on farms by subdivisions", 74-7.  20  2  120. 22  "'Thirty-ninth Annual Report of the Department of Agriculture For the Year 1944," Sessional Papers. Vol EL 1945, S-  Todd and Eldon Lee, From California to North 52 (Prince George: Caitlin Press, 1994), 104.  ^Winston A. Shilvock, "The Saga of LeBourdais," B.C. Historical News (Summer, 1992): 25-26.  34 the region's harshness o f climate and an ailing ranch economy were sufficient reasons to preclude its promotion. There was little economic justification for promoting many o f its communities as transplanted city-dwellers would soon be demanding such urban amenities as roads, schools, and relief.  24  Nonetheless, LeBourdais addressed the Vancouver Rotary Club i n  1939, soliciting their sponsorship o f his "Back-to-the-Land-Movement" hoping to attract some o f the 5000 Vancouver families on municipal relief. LeBourdais zealously portrayed his Cariboo as a place o f "abundant rainfall and a climate unequalled in any part o f the province" and one where "happiness in the great out-of-doors w i l l repair the wasted tissues caused by lack o f food, insufficient sunlight and crowded living conditions" o f the metropole.  25  In 1945, interior and northern British Columbia was promoted in the new "outdoorsman" journal, the Cariboo and North West Digest.  26  While the image o f the  Chilcotin as a w i l d "grasslands" for "buckeroo" ranchers with "guts-enough-to-put-her-over" persisted through to the 1970s, there emerged i n this journal a new collective image o f the interior and northern region,of British Columbia as a whole. The region beckoned: here was plenty o f land for pre-emption to be cleared for a variety o f agricultural uses which would support families. One (presumably) non-Aboriginal resident proudly declared Williams Lake and the surrounding area was not only "essentially" a district o f landowners, but that it was a decidedly anti-CCF one.  27  John Calam, ed., Alex Lord's British Columbia: Recollections of a Rural School Inspector. 1915-36 (Vancouver: UBC Press, 1991), 8. 24  ""Cariboo Settlement LeBourdais Plan," Williams Lake Tribune 19 January 1939, 1,4. Cariboo and Northwest Digest (Quesnel: Cariboo Digest Ltd, 1945.) This popular government publication was precursor to Beautiful British Columbia magazine. Apparently even Winston Churchill held a prescription. 26  Jribune, 27 January 1944, 2.  27  35 Promotions may have aimed at non-Aboriginal "families," but they appealed mostly to males. In 1960 the Williams Lake and District Board o f Trade unabashedly portrayed Williams Lake as a place "where men are men." Close at hand lay boundless outdoor recreation opportunities i n the form o f camping, fishing and hunting. If there was ever any "dream" to come north, subjects attested it was usually the father's not the mother's dream to do so. Fathers speculated that the area was sure to blossom as a result o f growing agricultural and forestry activity. They reasoned, correctly, the village o f Williams Lake stood to develop into an important supply centre. After 1945 Williams Lake, like much o f interior British Columbia, witnessed rapid economic, political, demographic and spatial change.  28  The local economy was first stimulated  by returning soldiers who began to set up small businesses with their "overseas gratuities."  29  Williams Lake's "western" image notwithstanding, wood and not cattle began to emerge as the economic backbone o f the local economy, especially after 1948. Before the Second W o r l d War, local markets had consumed local lumber production. Rising post-war lumber demand i n Canada and the American mid-west stimulated large-scale logging operations i n interior British Columbia as the province diversified away from coastal lumber and into new wood supply areas.  30  Full-time work became available for able-bodied males i n any o f the dozens o f small  portable bush or "popcorn" mills around Williams Lake. B y the early 1950s, there were  See for example Jean Barman, The West Beyond the West: A History of British Columbia (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1991); J. Lewis Robinson and Walter G. Hardwick, British Columbia: One Hundred Years of Geographical Change (Vancouver: Talonbooks, 1973). 28  Interview with Lil Deschene, 14 January 1994.  29  Barman, West Beyond the West. 285-7; Mary McRoberts, "Corporate Structures and Local Economies: The Case of the Williams Lake District Lumber Industry," in Canadian Papers in Rural History. VI (1988): 154-171. Author names and provides brief autobiographies of interviewees some of whom were directly involved in the Williams Lake District lumber industry. 30  36 approximately 150 portable mills i n the area.  31  In 1948, Lignum opened a planing m i l l just outside the village along the Williams Lake Creek valley. Other mills such as Gardner & Sons, West Fraser and Pinette & Therrien also opened permanent local sawmills in the following years and lucky young men i n the village began to find employment only steps from their homes.  32  B y 1956, the local lumber industry  had grown from a "minor, predominantly seasonal economic activity" into a significant industrial sector.  33  In contrast to the low wages paid "lumbermen" in the 1930s, workers in  the 1950s were well-remunerated. Most mills did not unionize although workers received union-level wages i n order "to keep the unions out." In the mid-1960s, these mills and others such as those owned by Jacobson Brothers and M e r r i l and Wagner not only replaced the dispersed bushmills but together became the single largest employers i n town. B y 1966 cattle ranching was more a labour o f love and a preferred lifestyle than a profitable business. Over the last decade, the number o f ranches and livestock had declined. Only those enterprises raising grain-finished cattle on large Chilcotin tracts turned profits while most small ranches continued to struggle through l o w beef yields per acre and volatile beef prices.  34  Farm labourers were difficult to procure given that they were poorly paid by the  City of Williams Lake, Williams Lake Profile (Including Surrounding Communities), (nd. [1995]), 1. By 1959, the list of mills is much shorter, at least according to the list enumerated. See Canada, Dominion Bureau of Statistics, List of Sawmills. Prairie Provinces. British Columbia Yukon and Northwest Territories. 1959. Cat. #35-503 Occasional. 31  McRoberts, "Corporate Structures and Local Economies."  32  Ibid.. 154.  33  ^British Columbia, The Cariboo-Chilcotin Region: A British Columbia Regional Economic Study (Victoria, Department of Industrial Development, Trade and Commerce, 1969), 43.  37  standards o f the day.  35  The large ranches employed only "a few hundred persons, mainly  Indians," on a seasonal basis from the area.  36  In 1965, at a time when the region was still  labelled "a man's country," entire families o f First Nations peoples, including children and youth, could still be found camping and labouring on some ranches.  37  Generally, rural youth i n  the area faced slow and uncertain economic mobility through inheritance o f small ranches, or via the theoretical "agricultural ladder" proceeding from unpaid to wage labourers to tenant farmers before they finally became owner-operators.  38  Despite their dream to go into ranching,  recognition o f ranching's economic limitations dissuaded not only Todd and E l d o n Lee, but at least two male baby-boomer subjects from developing their interest i n the business. While agricultural activity, mainly ranching, constituted the "predominant" land use activity before as well as after the Second W o r l d War, by the mid-1960s, the forestry industry was contributing "many more jobs" to the local economy.  39  Lumbering supported over three-  quarters o f the local village economy i n 1960, directly or indirectly, and wood came to be perceived as "green gold." Certainly, by 1965 resource industry jobs in the interior and northern British Columbia had become so plentiful that even the Vancouver School Board was urging students to head north into places like Williams L a k e .  40  Forestry dominated the local  For purposes of comparison, average weekly salaries for various occupations by heads of family in 1931: Teachers fared comparatively well, averaging $21.87; locomotive engineers averaged $21.64. Others made a fraction of such wages: brakeman: $14.09; salesmen. $13.47; cooks: $8.78; clerical. $14.66; carpenters: $8.63; lumbermen $6.70; and unskilled labour $6.70. Census of Canada. 1931. Vol. 7, Table 11, p. 210. 35  Cariboo-Chilcotin Region. 44.  36  Interviews with subjects, Raylene Erickson and Myles Osborne.  37  Canada Youth Commission. Youth and Jobs in Canada (Toronto. Ryerson Press, 1945), 189-90.  38  Cariboo-Chilcotin Region. 9.  39  'Students told to go north," Tribune. 29 September 1965, 21.  38 economy into the early 1990s at which point the B . C . Ministry o f Finance remarked Williams Lake, had a "very high dependence" upon the sector compared to places such as Salmon A r m or Fort St. John.  41  Until the early 1970s, males commanded a l l high-paying jobs on "production" i n Laketown sawmills while females were absorbed into their lower-pay clerical and administrative tasks. Although some women had long worked alongside husbands on small family-owned bushmills, it was not until 1973 that a few materialized on production at the L i g n u m m i l l (See Chapter 7). In 1997, the local International Woodworkers Association president estimated that approximately two dozen women were working i n production in the Williams Lake sawmills, notably, most at the plywood plant.  42  In contrast, women at the Port  Alberni A L P L Y plywood m i l l constituted a significant, and sometimes the major part o f the workforce throughout almost five decades o f operations.  43  The "Hub o f the Cariboo" B y the time the second generation o f subjects entered their teens i n the 1960s, Williams Lake had emerged as the veritable "Hub o f the Cariboo" although this term masks the Laketown's vital importance as a critical supply and regional centre i n the entire CaribooChilcotin.  44  Notable among improvements made to provincial infrastructure i n this area was  the strengthening o f the main north-south connection, linking the region with urbanized  In 1991, approximately 20 percent of the labour force in Williams Lake were directly or indirectly employed by the forestry sector, most of these in sawmills, planers, and logging. Williams Lake Profile. 15, 18. Measured against its vitality in 1960, however, the forestry sector had declined in relative importance to the local economy. See note 47. 41  Interview, Brian Symmes, President, IWA Local 1-425, 28 April 1997.  42  Susanne Klausen, "The Plywood Girls: Women and Gender Ideology at the Port Alberni Plywood Plant, 1942-1991" Labour/Le Travail (Spring 1998), 41. 43  '"See cover, "The Story of Williams Lake."  39 southwestern British Columbia. Regular air service to Williams Lake began in 1950. Ten years later, the town was part o f the Canadian Pacific interior service. The Cariboo Road, Highway 97, was paved north to Williams Lake i n the mid-fifties and significant alterations were made to the highway through the Fraser Canyon i n 1958. Both improvements reduced the travel time to Vancouver to a one day rather than the two day adventure.  45  However, many  roads i n the Cariboo-Chilcotin languished throughout the period awaiting a new Highways Minister, A l e x Fraser, who was elected to the provincial legislature in 1976. Residents and especially newcomers lamented deplorable roads. In 1962, the road running west out o f Williams Lake, the legendary Chilcotin Highway, mostly clay "gumbo" i n the wet season and once described as "the longest worst road anywhere," was paved only a few kilometres west o f Williams Lake, as far as the Chilcotin Bridge Fraser River crossing.  46  In an open letter to  " F l y i n g " Phillip Gaglardi, then Highways Minister, one resident wrote, Cariboo was "beautiful," i n fact "ideal l i v i n g " were in not for the roads and the pervasive dust both o f which were "slowly breaking our hearts and spirit."  47  Despite such transportation difficulties, the " H u b " had intensified control over the  See Lee, From California to North 52, 7-8. Images of the Fraser Canyon before major construction in the 1950s is captured on film footage. See British Columbia, Department of Highways, The Fraser Canyon [nd]. Alterations to the old Cariboo Wagon Road occurred in various stages and at various times and, according to the Central Cariboo Regional office of Transportation and Highways, there was as yet no summary of highway development in this area. The route from Cache Creek to Williams Lake is completely overlooked in what is an otherwise interesting publication, British Columbia Ministry of Transportation and Highways, Frontier to Freeway: a short illustrated history of the roads in British Columbia (Victoria: Ministry of Transportation and Highways, 1986). 45  See Diana French's lively and highly readable account of the building of the road to Bella Coola, The Road Runs West. 1994, 241. 46  'Tribune. 6 October 1965, 14.  social and natural environment o f its hinterland by the 1960s.  48  Williams Lake was designated  by provincial legislation as the seat o f Cariboo Regional District (which included the Chilcotin) government i n 1968. In the early 1970s, after debating development strategies for the Cariboo, regional planners consciously adopted a "centres" rather than a "corridor" pattern o f development and Williams Lake was designated a "first-order regional centre." Adopting a "corridor" pattern might have spurred a "linear city" from 100 M i l e to Quesnel along Highway 97 and preserved more o f the region's backcountry. Instead, a "centres" strategy was chosen, one aimed at concentrating people and facilitating more efficient and cheaper delivery o f municipal services, and deliberately encouraging expansion east and west o f Williams L a k e .  49  B y the mid-1970s, Williams Lake had evolved into an essential "central place" in the Cariboo-Chilcotin, in part because o f resource development, and in part by provincial design. The Laketown occupied an excellent cross-roads geographical position i n the region as did Prince George and Kamloops, two cities which were also growing rapidly at the time.  51  The  establishment o f Cariboo Regional District, installation o f District Forester Headquarters and intensification o f provincial government services i n the town resulted i n an influx o f professionals and others from urban centres.  52  The Laketown now offered facilities such as  ^Ostensibly, regional districts had no statutory functions (asidefromhospital authority) and no taxing authority, yet were aimed to foster inter-municipal co-operation in the development of a region. British Columbia, The Regional District Concept. What It Is. How It Works. An Interview with Dan Campbell. 1968. "^Vancouver Sun. 13 March 1971. According to Walter Christaller, "central places" supply central goods for regional communities; essentially, they provide services in excess of those demanded by its own residents. The model is useful in regional planning of newly settled areas. See Peter Haggett, Geography: A Modern Synthesis. 2nd ed. (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1975), 362-74, and 378-9. 50  Robinson and Hardwick, A Hundred Years of Geographical Change. 47.  5,  "Williams Lake, Submission to the Government of the Province of British Columbia concerning the Establishment of a District Forester Headquarters and Construction of a New Government Building at Williams Lake. B.C.. August, 1964.  50  41 supermarkets, an indoor mall, specialty shops and an array o f professional services. A burgeoning service sector began to compete with the forestry base o f the local economy, providing more economic opportunities for the youth o f W i l l i a m s Lake. Sometime i n the m i d to late-1970s, the Laketown also became a more "liveable" town for professionals, including teachers, a place to settle and perhaps have a family, and not just a place i n which to work a year or two before departing on account o f the lack o f adequate amenities including cultural activities. In this regard, the Laketown followed a pattern established earlier i n Prince George, when that city supposedly evolved out o f its notoriety as " a place to come, and put i n your time, and then get the hell out."  53  Demographic Profile Although various ethnic groups were represented in the village i n 1941, the overwhelming majority o f its 540 residents were o f British origin (433), followed by a small minority o f French origin (21), as w e l l as Scandinavians (14), Germans (13) and Chinese (13), and a sprinkling o f other "races." The 1941 Census reported no "Indians" living within Williams Lake although aboriginal peoples from reserves, for example, the Sugarcane Reserve a few kilometres east o f the town, frequented downtown businesses and streets.  54  Because it  was common practice in late nineteenth-century rural British Columbia for non-Aboriginal men to have families with Aboriginal women, especially i n the absence o f non-Aboriginal women, a significant number o f local "pioneer" families are o f "mixed-race." That hybridity traditionally disappeared i n Census data. Chinese men were established i n the area well before  Cited in Robert Rutherdale, "Approaches to Community Formation and the Family in the Provincial North: Prince George and British Columbia's Central Interior, BC Studies 104 (Winter 1994-95). 103-126,103. 53  "White" and "Indian" social discourse and commonplace racism is rendered in vivid detail in Furnis, Burden of History. Chapter 5. 54  the study period, living along the west bank o f the Fraser River near Williams Lake, along Soda Creek and D o g Creek as well as i n Williams L a k e .  55  Throughout the period a few Chinese-  Canadian families operated stores and restaurants i n and around W i l l i a m s Lake. Regional developments together with the lure o f Cariboo lifestyle and the continued availability o f relatively cheap residential land stimulated population growth. In the quarter century before 1945, the population o f Williams Lake had grown very slowly, but in a single ten-year period o f the post-war (1956-66), it grew 77 percent to a population o f 3,167, a figure excluding large residential subdivisions immediately adjacent to town l i m i t s .  56  The region was truly a "young" country, as it was described i n the late 1960s. M o r e than a quarter o f its population was under the age o f ten; more than a half were under the age o f twenty-four. Its median age o f twenty-two years was well below the provincial average o f twenty-seven and its average family size o f 3.9 somewhat larger than the provincial average o f 3.6.  57  B y 1991, three-quarters o f the population o f Williams Lake and immediate area was  under age forty-five, again below the regional or provincial average.  58  In 1991, only half o f the residents o f Williams Lake and the surrounding areas o f Commodore Heights-McLeese Lake and South Lakeside-Dog Creek claimed a single ethnic origin. O f these, the majority were o f European, mainly British, descent.  59  In Williams Lake  Both Roberts, Cariboo: a brief history and Drinkell's "Address" provide some detail of the Chinese presence.  55  Census data cited in The Cariboo-Chilcotin Region. 21. The authors of this regional study indicate that analysis is difficult because the study region takes in 2 Census Divisions and little published data is available. See p. 17. 56  "The numbers of children up to age 14 was also disproportionately higher than the provincial average (0-4 years: 14% versus 10.1% provincially; 5-9 years: 14% versus 10.8%; 10-14 years: 11.3% versus 9.7%. Cariboo-Chilcotin Region. 18. Williams Lake, Williams Lake Profile. 9.  58  5  %id.  43 itself, Indo-Canadians, who constituted more than ten percent o f the population, were the second largest "single ethnic origin" group, outnumbering Aboriginal peoples who made up between seven and eight percent o f the population.  60  It was not only Aboriginal peoples who  became the objects o f passive and active discrimination.  Table 1. Population o f W i l l i a m s Lake, 1931-1991.  Year 1931 1941 1951 1956 1961 1966 1971 1976 1981 1986 1991  Population 402 540 913 1,790 2,120 3,167 4,072 6,199 8,362 10,280 10,385  Source: Census o f Canada. Note that as o f 1986, subdivisions such as South Lakeside and Commodore Heights lay outside municipal limits.  Schools It is tempting to argue that, their pedagogical function aside, schools were prime conduits o f ideas and provincial, national and global matters into this area, at least before the widespread advent o f television.  61  B y the end o f the Second W o r l d War, however, and well  ^ibid. For compelling elaboration of the school's purported role in constructing like-minded and nationalistic individuals — and counter-hegemonic responses to attempts at social control from "above," see Bruce Curtis, Building the Educational State. Canada West. 1836-1871 (Sussex and London: Falmer Press and Althouse Press, 1988). More readable, but less critical are Eugene Weber, Peasants into Frenchmen: The Modernization of Rural France. 1870-1914 (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1976), and Roger Thabault, Education and Change in a Village Community: Mazieres-enGatine. 1841-1914. trans. Peter Tregar (New York: Schocken Books, 1971. 61  44 before "prime-time Canada," several other media transmitted urban ideas and news about life and events i n other parts o f Canada and the world into this village. There were the books and magazines read at home, the local and provincial press, and films. From 1928 until it burned down and was replaced by the Alston Theatre, the Oliver Theatre exposed young and o l d alike to popular cinema narrating Hollywood's version o f North American popular culture. Highly didactic films from the National F i l m Board also toured the region on their monthly B . C . Rural Circuit.  62  One first generation subject recalled the "showman" and his reels in Horsefly in the  mid-1940s. In the 1950s, another individual, L i l y Deschene, became involved along with a teacher, Hazel Huckvale, i n a local film board which brought non-commercial films into Williams Lake.  Local l o w power radio relay service began in August o f 1943 with the opening  o f C P R L which transmitted to audiences within a ten to fifteen kilometre radius o f the village.  63  Canadian and American radio was picked up on nightly airwaves throughout the  period although Williams Lake was licensed for radio only i n the late seventies ( C K W L , Cariboo Central A M in 1975; C B C , C B R L A M in 1978) and cable T V in 1974.  64  But there  were other ways young and o l d in the region might learn about the outside world. One girl, for example, accompanied a father to meetings o f a local Farmers' Institute where political issues (eventually support o f the Social Credit party) were subjects o f intense debate.  65  A n d of  course, as travel became more possible, trips to larger cities such as Kamloops, Prince George, and Vancouver were other eye-opening experiences. In 1964, C B C television was broadcast  See C.W. Gray, Movies for the People: The Story of the National Film Board's Unique Distribution System (n.p.: 1973). 62  Tribune. 19 August 1943, 1.  63  "CRTC records. Telephone interview with Marguerite Vogel, Senior Regional Officer, CRTC, 28 March 1994. Interview with Lily Deschene, 1 April 1994.  65  into the village by repeater station. Schools had been built i n the Cariboo-Chilcotin as early as 1875.  66  The first school i n  the village o f W i l l i a m s L a k e opened i n 1920-21 after the community became a divisional terminal o f the Pacific Grand Eastern R a i l w a y .  67  This school, like the one at D o g Creek, fared  better than most i n the region including the school at 150 M i l e House w h i c h closed for several years.  68  F r o m the outset the W i l l i a m s Lake school faced increasing enrollment.  69  Five o f the  seventeen pupils under M i s s A . M . M a c p h a i l , the first teacher i n the village school, were engaged i n the Fourth Reader, roughly the equivalent o f Grade VIII normally enrolling thirteen year-olds. The following school year, enrollment soared to forty-four, seven o f these working in the Fourth Reader. In 1929 the village school, known locally as the "Parkside S c h o o l , " was designated a Superior School which usually meant one offering instruction through Grade X .  7 0  That year, the school enrolled twenty-nine pupils i n Grades V I I through I X alone. Grade X I  A school was built at Lac la Hache in 1875; at 150 Mile House in 1880; Big Creek and Soda Creek in 1908; Harper's CampflTorsefly) 1911; Chimney Creek in 1912; Springhouse in 1919; Meldrum in 1920; Williams Lake and Rose Lake in 1921; and Alexis Creek in 1925). A chronology of rural and assisted schools construction is provided in Patrick Dunae, British Columbia Archives and Records Service, The School Record: A Guide to Government Archives relating to the Public Education in British Columbia. 1852-1946 (Victoria: Ministry of Government Services, 1992). 66  m  The first "Williams Lake School" was actually opened at 150 Mile House in 1880. Hereafter, references to the Williams Lake School refer to the school constructed within the village of Williams Lake shortly after completion of the PGE Railway to Williams Lake. Reports of G.H. Gower, Inspector of Schools. Annual Report of the Public Schools of British Columbia, [hereafter ARPJ5BC], 1919-20,1920-21. 67  The school at Dog Creek southwest of Williams Lake was once praised as "the model one room rural school." See A. J. Drinkell's 1954 "Address before the Cariboo Historical Society." (UBC: Special Collections). 68  As an interesting aside, the 150 Mile school illustrates the precarious nature of rural schooling in the province at the time Uninspected between 1880 and 1900, it was closed for five years on 31 May, 1893, and again in the 1919-20 school year. However, attendance had been relatively good in its first two years of operation. In 1880-81, Henry Bird, the first teacher enrolled 17 boys and 3 girls. The school recorded an average daily attendance of 18.21, exhibiting "less irregularity than any other school in ihe Province." In its second year, average daily attendance of 16.21 ( 24 students) was second only to Craigflower School's attendance record. But attendance fell rapidly in the third year when 7 pupils left. ARPSBC. 1880-81,265; 1881-82, 224, 1919-20, 1920-21. 6 9  A brief but interesting story of early school construction in Williams Lake is found in "The little old school house," Tribune. 30 November 1978, 15; "Old school house to become new classroom," Tribune. 18 December 1980, 18; and "Thefightfor the old Parkside School," Tribune. 5 September 1974,17. 70  46 was introduced in 1933 and Grade X I I in 1936 although there were never more than four pupils enrolled in the latter grade until the 1945-46 school year (See Appendix II). Overall, the success o f any rural school owed much to the diligence and affluence o f local school board trustees and ratepayers, fluctuating local enrollment o f the sort experienced at the 150 M i l e House School, and the tenacity o f teachers facing poor, even "pathetic" boarding arrangements as in the case o f one teacher forced to resort to accommodation in the Soda Creek j a i l .  71  Public schooling i n Williams Lake rode the crest o f rapid and significant changes in provincial educational infrastructure after 1945. Acting in accordance with the recommendations o f the provincial Cameron Report, local school districts were consolidated i n 1946.  72  September o f 1946 witnessed closings o f some one-room schools in the district. Over  the next few years, the Williams Lake School Board undertook to transport students into the village and build a dormitory to supplement the Roman Catholic-run Rosary H a l l . Public schools i n the area did not service a l l children and youth equitably. Commonly, the children o f "mixed-race" families in the village attended the Williams Lake School, although any Aboriginal heritage was usually downplayed to the point, as one resident put it, "you wouldn't know they were native people." Seeking this sort o f invisibility was common i n communities with an indigenous presence.  73  Aboriginal children and youth outside the village,  J. Donald Wilson, "Visions of Ordinary Participants: Teachers' Views of Rural Schooling in British Columbia in the 1920s," in Patricia E. Roy, ed., A History of British Columbia: Selected Readings (Toronto: Copp Clark Pitman, 1989); See also, J. Donald Wilson and Paul Stortz, "May the Lord Have Mercy on You": The Rural School Problem in British Columbia in the 1920s" in Jean Barman et. al. Children. Teachers & Schools in the History of British Columbia (Calgary: Detselig, 1995). 71  MaxweIl A. Cameron, Report of the Commission of Inquiry into Educational Finance (Victoria, 1945). H B . King's 1934 recommendation that British Columbia's 800-odd school districts be consolidated was finally taken up. Unlike King, Cameron had noted British Columbians were ready to follow the trend established in Ontario and Alberta. See Jean Barman and Neil Sutherland, "Royal Commission Retrospective," in Barman et. al. Children Teachers & Schools. 414-7. 72  See Burden of History, especially Chapter 5.  73  47 however, usually attended day schools on the reserves or were sequestered at the Williams Lake Indian Residential School at the Oblate " M i s s i o n , " fourteen kilometres southeast o f the village near the Sugarcane Indian Reservation. I f anything raised the profile o f "the M i s s i o n " among townsfolk, it appeared to be its successful hockey teams and 4 - H Club, its famous Cariboo Indian Girls Pipe Band which toured eastern Canada as well as Scotland during Canada's Centennial, or particular individuals such as Nancy Sandy, the teenager from the award-winning Paul St. Pierre film, The Education o f Philistine.  74  Otherwise, Aboriginal  students were generally overlooked by the dominant society. The Williams Lake and District Board o f Trade, for example, boasted o f the town's modern public schools and appeared satisfied with the segregated nature o f Aboriginal education. The board put it this way in their 1960 promotional pamphlet: "The requirements o f the Indian pupils are met through the services o f the modern Cariboo Indian Residential School about ten miles from Williams Lake and by day schools on the various reserves." In the 1960s, Aboriginal students across the Cariboo-Chilcotin began to attend secondary school i n Williams Lake boarding weekdays in town and returning home on most weekends. Thus such youth finally began to fall i n step with a decades-old practice amongst non-Aboriginal rural youth across the region who boarded either privately, or since 1944 at gender-segregated quarters at Rosary H a l l run by the Sisters o f the C h i l d Jesus, or since 1952, in the school district's dormitory.  75  The number o f Aboriginal families living in town also  increased between 1945 and 1975, although as previously noted, they were eventually outnumbered by Indo-Canadian ones. B y 1975, however, non-Aboriginal society had done  Tribune. 11 October 1967, 9.  74  "This point is explored in Chapter 5.  48  Fig. 11. "Cariboo Indian Girls Pipe Band, St. Joseph's M i s s i o n . " ca. 1965. The original band o f 16 girls was formed i n 1958 and gained fame as the only known Indian Girls Pipe Band in Canada. Courtesy o f Sisters o f C h i l d Jesus Archives, North Vancouver.  little to ensure Aboriginal students were culturally as well as structurally integrated into the public schools. These young people lacked the sort o f empowerment seen among their peoples in the 1990s. Relatively recent legislation regarding qualifications for Indian status, and the achievements o f Aboriginal peoples who attempted to reclaim cultural traditions, i f not land, has greatly bolstered Aboriginal pride and a "great number" o f individuals have applied for reinstatement o f official Indian status and membership with bands and reserves.  76  Some long-  time "White" residents of the area also began to declare their own aboriginal ancestry.  77  The post-war immigration o f Indo-Canadians, particularly Sikhs from the Punjab, to  'Bill C-85 passed into law in 1985. Its implications are discussed in Furniss, Burden of History. 120. 'Interview with Alice Tressiera, August 1995.  49 Williams Lake was a significant addition to a m i x o f origins in the Laketown. When Pinette & Therrien o f North Vancouver built a large sawmill i n Williams Lake i n the early fifties, IndoCanadian men migrated there from their jobs at the company's North Vancouver m i l l . Family reunification followed beginning in the late 1960s.  78  Even as aboriginal youth became  dominant visible minorities at an older, more centrally-located Williams Lake Junior Secondary, Indo-Canadian children became the dominant visible minority at some local elementary schools such as Glendale or Nesika, and eventually at Anne Stevenson Junior Secondary built at the end o f the period in a modern subdivision.  Before and after the Second W o r l d War children could grow up in veritable nearfrontier conditions in homesteads not too far from town. Hunting and fishing, farming and ranching, and other social practices brought these children and youth into daily contact with the physical landscape. These young people developed strong connections with their environment. A s we shall see, many subjects o f both generations growing up in the Laketown itself maintained close connections with the out-of-doors despite the community's growth and spatial transformation. The human-made landscape, once clustered i n disarray about the small business core on the benchland o f Williams Lake Creek in the 1920s, remained small-scale and largely unchanged until the 1960s.  79  Outside village limits lay virtual wilderness. The present  day subdivisions o f North and South Lakeside remained very sparsely populated throughout the  Interview with Andrew Rainier, 14 January 1994. This wave of Indo-Canadian immigrants targeted other resource communities in British Columbia such as Quesnel. For the context, see Norman Buchignani et. al. Continuous Journev: A Social History of South Asians in Canada (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart in association with the Multiculturalism Directorate, Department of the Secretary of State, 1985). 78  Riley, Bill and Laura Leake. History and events of the 1920s, a mounted policeman's bird's-eve view of the Old Cariboo Country (UBC: unpublished paper. Special Collections, 1980), 31. 79  50 1940s and 1950s. Maps show an occasional residence or outbuilding. The northern hillside overlooking the mills across the creek on the benchlands was nothing but acres o f wooded grassland yielding deer and grouse — hunting grounds for boys. B y 1975, however, much o f this natural environment had transformed into an urban landscape. Three secondary schools and four elementary schools punctuated residences laid out i n orderly subdivisions sprawled across former natural spaces. Youth had access to a greater selection o f urban amenities including a few coffee shops and diners, a bowling alley, a billiards parlour, downtown stores as well as a shopping mall, a theatre, and a drive-in theatre. Ostensibly, population growth and spatial transformation o f the physical landscape had pushed w i l d places further out o f the reach o f young people. Nonetheless, many young people recall that much o f their leisure time was spent out-of-doors: " W e were always outside." Factors such as greater autonomy o f youth, their widespread use o f the motor vehicle, and reduced labour requirements i n the household, meant, as we shall see, many young people o f the second generation were, relative to the first generation, not only comparatively free to act upon their own peer-driven desires, but were also better able to range further out o f Williams Lake where they sought seclusion from adults.  51  Chapter 3 A Centre for People": Teachers, Curriculum and School Culture  Schools are unique sites where young people coalesce i n large numbers. Designated adults confine them for significant portions o f a day, directing i f not always controlling their minds and bodies, demanding and usually receiving "reasonably automatic compliance."  1  In  this chapter the school is the historical stage, its actors the subjects o f this study who responded i n various ways to the time, space and energy adults directed towards their formal education. The chapter begins w i t h a brief educational history o f the local area before examining, by generation, subjects' memories o f their secondary schooling including impressions o f teachers, curricular and extra-curricular activities, and the general culture o f the school. T w o brief qualifications are i n order at the outset. First, this chapter makes only periodic references to the education o f Aboriginal children at St. Joseph's Indian Residential School, known locally as "the M i s s i o n , " a subject demanding separate and comprehensive treatment.  2  Second,  'Neil Sutherland, "The Triumph of'Formalism': Elementary Schooling in Vancouver from the 1920s to the 1960s," in Robert A. McDonald and Jean Barman, eds., Vancouver Past. Essays in Social History (Vancouver: UBC Press, 1986), reprinted in Jean Barman, Neil Sutherland, and J. Donald Wilson, Children. Teachers & Schools in the History of British Columbia (Vancouver: UBC Press, 1995). Sutherland employs oral history to recreate school and classroom settings. Another good example of this orientation is Steve Humphries, Joanna Mack and Robert Perkins, A Century of Childhood. (London: Sidgewick and Jackson in association with Channel Four Television Company, 1988). Williams Lake Industrial School, Williams Lake Residential School, St. Joseph's Residential School, are names used interchangeably. "St. Joseph's Mission" or simply, "the Mission" was in the time period under study, the most widely accepted local name for the school which officially opened in 1891. See Elizabeth Furniss, Victims of Benevolence: The Dark Legacy of the Williams Lake Residential School (Vancouver: Arsenal Pulp Press, 1992), 47. It was also known as Cariboo Indian Residential School. The appellation, "The Mission," originates with the opening of a school at St. Joseph's Mission in 1874forIndian and "white" boys by the Oblate order of priests, an early form of "co-education" which did not take girls into consideration. Sr. Ethel M. Devlin, S.E.J. "The Sisters of the Child Jesus and Native Catholic Expansion in British Columbia" (St. Paul University, Faculty of Canon Law, Ottawa: unpublished paper, 1983), 6. Also see Margaret Whitehead, The Cariboo Mission. A History of the Oblates (Victoria: Sono Nis Press. 1981). On the British Columbia residential school experiencefromthe perspective of its students in this time period, see the CBC's investigation 2  52 discussions o f culture in this chapter is confined to that found within the high school itself. Unprecedented enrollment and expansion o f school facilities in Williams Lake began in 1946 when the village was established as the administrative centre o f the newly-created School District N o . 27 (Williams Lake) in the province-wide project o f school consolidation recommended by the Cameron Report. In the first five years following the Second W o r l d War, the newly amalgamated School District extended formal schooling in the region through a combination o f school closures, consolidation o f small schools, improved transportation o f students, and better living arrangements for teachers. Although there was only "minor consolidation" in the first year after amalgamation, over the course o f the next few years, unrelenting demand for school expansion and an improved transportation network preoccupied both Inspectors and the local board o f school trustees who sought to overcome historical difficulties in the area. In 1948, for instance, a five-room house and duplex teacherage was constructed i n Williams Lake. The following year saw "considerable consolidation" in the district, as well as construction o f a new four-room elementary school i n the village.  3  into St. Joseph's Residential School, "The Fifth Estate: Violation of Trust," aired in 1991; Cariboo Tribal Council. Impact of the Residential School. Williams Lake: 1991; "'The Way We Were': Reunion 1867-1981, St. Joseph's Mission." [Illustrated booklet with photographs of Aboriginal Children in the residential school], Sisters of Child Jesus Archives; for interviews with former residents, William Gaspard, "St. Joseph's Mission" (University of British Columbia: Unpublished Paper for Anthropology 329, 12 March, 1990); for context of other residential schools, consult, Shirley Sterling, M v Name is Seepeetza (Vancouver: Douglas & Mclntyre, 1992); as well as Celia Haig Brown, Resistance and Renewal: Surviving the Indian Residential School (Vancouver: Arsenal Press, 1988) Report of F A . McLellan, ARPSBC. 1948-49, N92; 1949-50, 093. Initial consolidation efforts in this Inspectorate in the mid-1930s failed due to the mitigating effects of alarmed ratepayers as well as physical barriers of distance between settlements, severe winters and abysmal road conditions throughout most of the year. See Report of F A . McLellan, Inspector of Schools, ARPSBC. 1946-47 Y96-7. The first meeting of the board of trustees for School District No. 27 was held 9 November, 1946 [hereafter Minutes], Records are located at the office of the School District No. 27, in Williams Lake. Rough roads and isolation (including bi-weekly mail service to Anahim Lake) is discussed in W J . Mowat, Inspector of Schools. Letter to Mrs. Fred W. Tonge, Vancouver, 8 February, 1955; as well as Letter to R.C. Grant, Executive Assistant, Department of Education, Victoria, B.C., 8 June 1954. Copies at school board office. 3  53 Secondary enrollment at Williams Lake Elementary Senior Secondary (as the village school was renamed after amalgamation) grew rapidly after the Second W o r l d War, rising from forty-six at war's end to sixty-five in 1946 and then six-fold to 407 i n 1956. Overcrowding i n Williams Lake schools, a nagging theme o f School Inspectors' reports throughout these years, became the focus o f a local referendum over school taxes and even found its way into the 1956-57 high school valedictorian's somewhat lofty address. Taking note o f the situation, Marlene Gardener quoted Sir Richard Livingstone: '"Overcrowding in education as in housing turns the school into an intellectual s l u m . ' "  4  Outside the village o f Williams Lake, the rural school problem, and especially access to local secondary schooling plagued some Cariboo-Chilcotin families at least through the end o f the Second W o r l d War.  5  It was "quite common" for "country" adolescents to get only a Grade  Eight education. Isolated children in cash-strapped families like the Potters around Lac la Hache either received their schooling by correspondence course through Victoria, received a rudimentary education from one or both parents, or delayed or ceased schooling altogether. The most isolated ones like A x e l Vickers seldom received any formal schooling. A x e l , who lived two hours by horseback ride from the Riske Creek school, was only enrolled by its school trustees so that the school might secure the annual grant from the Department o f Education for schools with at least ten registered students: "I think I got into a school on about two occasions  Williams Lake Junior-Senior High School Annual. Lake High. '57.  4  In the 1945-46 school year, 38 schools in the Inspectorate were closed, including some near Williams Lake such as Big Lake, Chimney Creek, Felker Lake, McLeese Lake, 144 Mile House, and Riske Creek. ARPSBC. 1945-46. For the rural school problem, see J. Donald Wilson and Paul J. Stortz, "May the Lord Have Mercy on You": the Rural School Problem in British Columbia in the 1920s," BC Studies 79 (Autumn 1988): 24-48, revised in Jean Barman, Neil Sutherland, and J. Donald Wilson. Children. Teachers & Schools in the History of British Columbia (Calgary: Detselig, 1995). For the effect consolidation had upon rural families around Evelyn, British Columbia, see Neil Sutherland, "I can't recall when I didn't help": The Working Lives of Pioneering Children in Twentieth-Century British Columbia," in Barman et at, Children. Teachers & Schools. 5  54 at Riske Creek. They had barely enough children to start a school and they used to borrow me to get it going." Traditionally, parents with the disposition and financial means exercised their options and sent their children to board privately i n Williams Lake or to boarding schools around the province including those in the Lower Mainland. In 1929, the solution to the school problem for the Smith family o f the Chilco ranch out in the remote reaches o f the south Chilcotin was to move into Williams Lake for the winter so that the children could attend school. Beginning in 6  the late 1930s, Harriet Wilson boarded with five different Williams Lake families i n order to complete Grades I through X . Camille Summerland from another affluent ranching family followed suit. In her case, she was entrusted with her own self-contained apartment in a private family dwelling. In the late 1940s, some mothers left husbands on home ranches west o f the Fraser River to board along with their children at Soda Creek i n order that their children could attend its school. In the early 1950s, M y l e s Osborne's family actually purchased a home in Williams Lake expressly for the purpose o f educating the children. M y l e s ' father remained on the ranch while mother and children resided in the village in the winter returning to the ranch every summer, and weather-permitting, on winter weekends. The Roman Catholic Church, and not the provincial government, responded first to the "urgent educational need" for student accommodations in the village. In 1944, Father Redmond, a Redemptorist, opened Rosary H a l l in Williams Lake as a boarding place for "country girls" to attend high school i n Williams Lake. Although only four girls boarded the first year, new quarters were soon constructed to house thirty boarders. Country boys and girls " o f any religious denomination" (only six o f twenty-four students i n one year were Catholics)  6  Williams Lake Tribune. 19 January 1939, 2.  but "deprived o f adequate educational facilities" began to board at Rosary H a l l . Pupils were charged monthly fees o f thirty dollars for full "board," twenty-five i f they returned home on weekends. Boarders breakfasted, left for school, returned for lunch, and completed homework after school. Following supper, they studied or with a parent's consent, went "downtown."  7  The newly amalgamated school district offered a staggered threefold response to the school problem: Superior schools, bussing and a high school dormitory. B y designating schools i n select nodal communities as Superior Schools, beginning first with the community of Horsefly in 1946, the school district kept adolescents in their own communities and at school for at least two or three years after the elementary grades. Lacking school buses, the 8  board first addressed the transport o f pupils into the village school on a case-by-case contract basis, usually after receiving letters from parents requesting financial assistance or from individuals interested in providing taxi service. In 1949, for example, a handful o f students 9  living around 150 M i l e House, including Evelyn M c L e o d , were taxied into the Williams Lake school in order to continue secondary schooling. The board undertook to bus students from the Cariboo and Chilcotin into Williams Lake Elementary-Senior H i g h beginning i n the 1949-50 school year.  10  Ten years later, twelve buses, three contracted, nine owned by the board,  transported a total o f 826 students across the far-flung school district. The longest run in the district was a sixty-mile round trip to McLeese Lake north o f the village. These buses ran  Rosarv Hall, pamphlet, nd. [1948]. Also, "What a Memory! — Sister Patricia Tuite at Rosary Hall, Williams Lake, BC." Williams Lake: unpublished manuscript of interview with Sister Clare Sansregret, July 1986. Sisters of Child Jesus, Mother House, North Vancouver, B.C; as well as Tribune. 24 August 1944, 1, 7  By 1948, this Superior School also enrolled 5 students in grades XI and XU. ARPSBC. 1929-30; 1946-47, Y-159; and 1948-49, N-155. s  Report of FA. McLellan, ARPSBC, 1947-48, JJ-88, as well as Minutes. 5 May, 7 July, 4 August 1948. 'The board signed ten bus contracts for the transportation of pupils to consolidated schools. Report of F. A. McLellan, ARPSBC. 1949-50. 0-93.  111. 12. "L'enfants pensionaires du 'Rosary H a l l , ' " Williams Lake, B.C. L a Rn. Pere Redmond et Frere Bede, C.S.S.R. Photo E 9 [n.d.]." Photo courtesy of Sisters o f C h i l d Jesus Archives.  without accident causing personal injury at least until 1960 and were operated under a safety policy whereby school buses did not operate in sub-thirty below weather.  11  In September, 1952, the school board finally augmented boarding facilities at the Roman Catholic-run Rosary H a l l by opening a public school dormitory in Williams Lake for thirty-two secondary school students.  12  B y 1954, the dormitory accommodated sixty-one pupils  or one-fourth o f the school's Grade VII to XII enrollment o f 244.  13  Evidently, the dormitory  even served as a temporary shelter for local pupils. One subject employed the " d o r m " as a  "Williams Lake Tribune. 13 January 1960, 6. Capacity was expanded to eighty that year. Reports of Inspector W.J. Mouat, ARPSBC. 1951-52.N -99; 1952-53, P-96. The province began a public school dormitory system for large rural areas in 1948. See John Calam, "An Historical Survey of Boarding Schools and Public School Dormitories in Canada" (UBC: Unpublished M.A. thesis, 1962). l2  This included a few pupils from four other districts. Report of Inspector W.J. Mowat, A R P S B C . 1953-54, 0-87. The dormitory sustained this capacity into the 1990s and remains a defining feature of only a handful of B.C. school districts. l3  57 haven whenever she was "stuck" in the situation o f being unable to go home. O n evenings when she feared her drunken father, she "crawled under the wing" o f Mrs. Bryce, the dorm mother: " A n d she was just like a mother hen, she was a l l over us." In all, six o f the nineteen first generation subjects, either boarded with Williams Lake families, at Rosary H a l l or at the high school dormitory, a figure approximating the ratio o f in- to out-of-town secondary students in both Katie Jean Kurt's grade nine and ten class o f 1948-49 and 1953-54 enrollment. Private boarding arrangements, a high school dormitory and an extensive grid o f school bus routes all served to shorten i f not sever the daily contact rural adolescents had with their families, their work in and around the family home, and rural life in general, while confronting them with more urban forms o f youth culture.  14  If the merger o f village and country teens  promoted their social intercourse i n the Williams Lake School, such interaction between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal youth remained limited to structured extra-curricular competitions between the village school and the residential school. A significant number o f "mixed-race" individuals (enumerated as "Whites" i n the 1941 Census), were enrolled i n the Williams Lake School. W i l m e Ruth Baxter estimated that up to one-third o f her adolescent classmates i n the early 1940s were o f Aboriginal descent. Dusty Shaw identified three o f his classmates as "mixed-race," adding, " Y o u know how the o l d saying goes, 'Slapped with the tar brush?' W e l l I am too. M y one grandmother was half." In fact, excluding two first generation subjects, Norman Flit and M i l l i e Jacobs, and two second generation subjects, Joseph St. Michelle and Marnie Williams, who self-identified as "Indian" or "First Nations," thirteen other individuals, seven from the first generation and six from the second, confirmed  Children around Evelyn, British Columbia, experienced similar changes in daily rhythms after consolidation. See Neil Sutherland, "I can't recall when I didn't help": The Working Lives of Pioneering Children in Twentieth-Century British Columbia, Histoire sociale/Social History 24 (November 1991) revised in Barman, et. al. Children Teachers & Schools. 14  58 Aboriginal lineage and were enrolled in public schools.  15  The issue of enrolling a few Japanese-Canadian students into the Williams Lake school after the Second World War preceded widespread public discussion of integrating Aboriginal children into public schools. David Tomiyasi, whose family had been forced away from the Lower Mainland in 1942, remembers that at the end of the Second World War, "there was difficulty in me getting into school" as there were "some pretty strong feelings against our family." Although some local residents clearly sought repatriation of all persons of Japanese descent, influential "friends" of the Tomiyasi family not only assisted the family in establishing itself economically in the community, but convinced school trustees to accept the Tomiyasi children.  16  The First Generation For almost a decade after the Second World War, pupils in Williams Lake were without a separate high school so that for most of that time, those making the transition from single- or split-grade elementary classes in the school to its secondary grades simply adjusted to a new curriculum, a few new classmates, and perhaps a new teacher. Whatever adjustments village youth made, young people leaving one-room "country" elementary schools to enroll in the secondary grades in Williams Lake endured additional pressures: boarding weekdays in Williams Lake, establishing relationships with new and more numerous peers, and for some after 1949, a bus route which made for a longer school day. Background, personality and readiness mediated their experiences.  Dusty Shaw, one of the oldest and biggest boys in a  one-room school house outside the village, was "scared stiff' the first few days in the larger  5  A few subjects attested their own parents are among those recently seeking to establish Aboriginal ancestry.  16  For the context, see "Neither Japs, Douks, Nor Nip-Douks in our part of the Country," Tribune. 10 March, 1944, 1.  59 Williams Lake school when confronted with Grades LX to XTJ pupils cloistered in a single classroom as classes were sorted out. In contrast, Katie Jean Kurtz, the outsider who entered the school i n January 1949, felt welcomed by the girls i n her combined grades nine and ten class. Compared to the Vancouver school she had left before Christmas, she was instantly at ease in what she perceived as a tightly-knit classroom. While she "didn't have much to do with the boys," the girls were "really friendly" toward her from the first day.  17  Like other girls, her friendships in the village  began and were sustained at this school. W i l m e Ruth Baxter, for example, had "really enjoyed going to school" in the early 1940s. Evelyn M c L e o d recalled this sentiment echoed into the early 1950s: W e l l there was so few o f us you know that we were a l l buddies . . . I really made hay while the sun shone while I was at school. I mean every moment counted, you know, it was togetherness with this one and togetherness with that one. Although the girls i n the 1948-49 grade nine and ten class grouped themselves according to different interests (see Chapter 5), one's social class seemed to be less divisive a factor in Williams Lake than in the much larger Elmtown, U S A .  1 8  Katie Jean, who was usually "quite  alone" and "didn't do a lot i n larger groups" nonetheless socialized comfortably with at least six other girls in her class. That intimacy, kindness, and a lack o f "trying to outdo each other" contrasted sharply with the fights and name-calling she witnessed between girls almost a decade later when as a high school teacher in Williams Lake she heard girls spread " a l l sorts o f  While the class photograph portrays 22 students (9 boys, 13 girls) with their teacher, Mr. Owen Kerley, official enrollment for the class is 30, a discrepancy perhaps owing to student absence on the day of the photograph as well as fluctuating enrollment throughout the year. ARPSBC. 1948-49, N-155. See Appendix II. 17  In 1941-42, Elmtown (population 6000), had over 700 pupils in the local high school. Social class clearly differentiated not only their curricular but extra-curricular activities such as athletics, clubs and even attendance at dances. See August B. Hollingshead, Elmtown's Youth (New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1949), Chapter 8. 18  111. 14. Williams Lake Elementary-Senior Secondary, c. 1950. The small building at left is the original school. In 1949, it served as Katie Jean's high school. Courtesy o f Randy Aston.  61  stories of who they were, and what they were — whether they were whores.... I never experienced none of that." Friendships in this school were influenced by post-war demographic change in the district. The board's decision to bus individuals into the Superior School, for instance, not only increased enrollment, but helped balance the ratio of its village to out-of-village pupils. In one year alone, new faces in the school began to erase the former intimacy of the school. What Katie Jean recalled most vividly of her second school year in Williams Lake is the negative impact bussing had upon her friendships in the fall of 1949. A tightly-knit class of village and boarding teens simply vanished forever. Katie Jean was almost relieved to be leaving Williams Lake in 1950 at the end of her second school year in the village: Oh! The whole school felt different.... Although I cried and felt very bad all the way from Williams Lake to , I felt that it was the right time to go because I felt that suddenly this dream world that had been a most amazing [time] and opened so many horizons was changing. At least into the mid-1950s, village school teachers were generally esteemed by their pupils as well as the general community. According to Hazel Huckvale, who arrived in Williams Lake in 1953 as an experienced teacher, teachers at the time were "all Protestant and expected to work in the local church," and recognized as active if not "leading members" of the community. Hazel sang in the school choir, taught Sunday school in the United Church, was involved in the Women's Institute and was expected to uphold community standards in the school: "I was in charge of discipline and hemlines."  19  Subjects' recollections of their teachers follow roughly the pattern in Sutherland's study of Vancouver pupilhood with the exception that thefirstgeneration tend to claim that all their  19  Hazel Huckvale, "Laketown Profile," Tribune. (Williams Lake Library Archives, [nd.]).  62  teachers were generally "good" teachers.  20  Two local schools, Marie Sharpe Elementary and  Anne Stevenson Junior Secondary, were later named after such teachers who had at some point taught many first generation subjects: "Mrs. Sharpe was a real honey and so was Anne Stevenson, just a favourite, favourite lady." "Good," in fact, usually denoted those who were strict and demanding: "They were really good teachers. They expected you to do your homework and you better do it. . . they were very strict which I think was good. . . . I think they were all very strict... I never had one teacher I never got along with." Principal Phillipson was regarded in this manner by several subjects: "He was a very stern person, quite highly respected"; and "I've never forgotten old Joe Phillipson, he was a real discipline man. They had the strap in those days — he was a bugger for that — well anyway I guess we all had it coming."  21  A few subjects illustrated teacher faults, but usually mollified teacher misdemeanours and idiosyncrasies, expressing their criticisms in conciliatory, humorous and certainly less derisive or even bitter tones than did some second generation subjects. Teacher A, for example, "He was a great one for throwing chalk . . . if you were just daydreaming or something, you would get a little 'bite' on the side of the head. That was a piece of chalk." Teacher B "had a hot temper, God, he had a hot temper. He'd get mad and throw books around the room. He'd blow his temper. Little things like that you remember." Katie Jean Kurtz, later a teacher herself, was the only subject of this generation to cast a teacher as incompetent.  Sutherland's subjects give their highest rating to the "good" teacher. These "no-nonsense" "but fair" teachers "emphasized fundamentals," "drilled and tested." The second type, the "nice" teacher is "lovely," "quiet," "mothered or fathered their charges," and is remembered through a "pleasant haze." The third were simply "mean," "nasty," " sarcastic, even vicious." The fourth were "ineffective," "incompetent," and "scorned" teachers. Sutherland, "Triumph of Formalism," 113-15. 20  PhilIipson became Deputy Minister of Education in the Social Credit government. He was later appointed as the first Superintendent of Independent Schools after passage of Bill 33 in 1977. My thanks to J. Donald Wilson on this latter point. 2I  63  She remembered Teacher C, a new teacher with "very little self-esteem" and poor classroom management: "She had a fairly difficult time with us grade tens." Katie Jean who had never dreamed of showing disrespect for any teacher began to seize the power to manipulate the classroom environment: And I remember for the first time in my life feeling naughty and badly behaved, or [having] a desire to be naughty and badly behaved in school, and to a certain extent, cheeky, which I would never have done in a classroom where the teacher was fully competent... and this is disturbing, very disturbing.... Feeling safe in that situation — I think that's really important in a classroom, to make all her children feel safe.... You don't feel safe because you don't trust your own power and you know that you can disturb the whole balance of the atmosphere in the classroom very easily because this person just doesn't have the ability to command the respect. 22  Unquestioning respect for authority had been drummed in early by parents, church and elementary school teachers. Families like the Shaws not only supported a teacher's decisions 23  concerning discipline, but upon receipt of "bad news" from the school, they sometimes reinforced its more severe forms such as corporal punishment. As Dusty Shaw put it: "If you're like me, you got the strap in school and you got it at home too!" Rusty claimed he got strapped in his rural school "about every day" for minor incidents such as talking when you were supposed to be studying, or things, that in his current view, "didn't amount to anything": ... Slinging the odd spitball, just normal things, really, that kids try to pull in class. Until it got investigated, I used to get the strap about every day off that one teacher. .. every time I turned and looked at her, she went cross-eyed. ... Man, she used to whittle up on me every time! [emphasis in original]. The day also arrived when his mother intervened and urged her husband to talk to the teacher:  This critical narrative not only accurately construes the classroom as a dynamic stage of power struggle between teachers and students, but illustrates that benevolent authority also creates pedagogical space permitting transmission or discovery of knowledge. By the 1950s, it is unclear from the Annual Reports how many teachers were certified. Certainly, by the 1955-56, Inspectors were still reporting difficulties in obtaining either fully qualified teachers, or adequate teacher housing. Report of D.G. Chamberlain, ARPSBC. 1955-56, FF-86. 22  ^For elaboration of this point, see Sutherland, "Triumph of Formalism," Chapter 9.  " A n d that was the last time I got the strap. H e stepped into it "figuring I didn't need it that many times" but informed the teacher, ' " I f there's any problems you just write me a note and I ' l l see that he gets the strap.'" While the sub-text o f the first generation's narratives suggest pupils generally complied with teacher demands throughout the childhood and adolescent years, student resistance against authority, even in the pre-teen years, was not unknown. When one boy accidentally shattered a pane i n a window o f the Williams Lake School with a ball, the group understood, as D a v i d Tomiyasi put it, "that was bad news for whoever kicked the b a l l " as principal Phillipson was "someone you just didn't fool around with": Anyways, I guess in order to kind o f spread the pain, somebody else dropped the ball and kicked another one [window] in and pretty soon the whole works o f us started kicking the b a l l . . . next thing you know, it was nothing but a bunch o f wood frames — I think even the wood frames was kicked in. [T: " A n d you did this on purpose?"] O h yeah, spread the trouble around. Everybody took a crack at it. Anyway that caused a whole bunch o f people to be lined up i n front o f the principal's office [emphasis in original]. Although secondary students moved into a new high school i n 1952, secondary enrollment remained insufficient to warrant implementation o f the wide-ranging curriculum or facilities o f the sort found in the large urban high schools such as Vancouver's Kitsilano or Templeton which had showcased their beautiful grounds, and well-equipped Domestic Science and manual training shops three decades earlier in Department o f Education annual reports. In 1949, principal Phillipson and teacher O w e n Kerley were entirely responsible for the high school students providing instruction i n all core subjects and tutoring a variety o f correspondence courses such as Homemaking 91, Record-Keeping, Commercial Art, Agriculture 10 and 20, and Typing. The school faced major equipment shortages. In A p r i l 1950, it still lacked a microscope; two years later, a public address system; and even i n 1953,  travelling speakers arrived at this and other district schools armed with their own generators and B e l l and Howell film projectors. In June 1954, parents complained about the lack o f manual training in the schools.  24  Some o f these shortages became, in turn, major fund-raising  objectives o f the local Parent-Teacher Association ( P - T A ) .  25  Athletic activities remained diffused among limited sites i n the community until 1959. Around 1950, school athletics often consisted o f softball and soccer as these required only the school field. Skating and hockey took place on the community's outdoor rink situated halfway between the school and the arena. Skating was a "major winter activity" for both genders: "Owen would say, ' G o o f f and skate you guys!'" Physical education classes, extra-curricular sports like badminton and basketball, as well as dances and graduation ceremonies were held in the community's only suitable venue, the E l k s H a l l : " A l l the dances were held i n that hall, and i f they needed a large building for anything it was usually held in there."  26  In the decade after the Second W o r l d War, a relatively small population o f adolescents combined with limited recreational facilities and organized activities encouraged teens to become involved in whatever extra-curricular activities were organized by teachers. Logistical necessity i n the mid-1940s (there were only thirty-two pupils i n grades VIII through X I I in 1944-45 school year) forced most pupils into multi-age groupings, and except for the hockey  Nor was there manual training in Quesnel or Cache Creek. However, industrial education was offered in such places as Maple Ridge, Ladysmith, Cranbrook or Salmon Arm. ARPSBC. 1945, B-50. 24  The P-TA was also frustrated by the board's failure to find accommodations for teachers: "Mr. Phillipson addressed the P-TA speaking of the "desparate [sic] need of finding accommodations for teachers and requested that members assist them by informing them of any homes available." June [n.d] 1954. Minutes of P-TA Meeting. Williams Lake School. Minutes in possession of Mrs. Lil Deschene. On the role of the P-TA, see Canadian Home and School and Parent-Teacher Federation Incorporated Handbook. 7th. ed. (Toronto: Canadian Home and School and Parent-Teacher Federation Incorporated, 1951). 23  ^Cole Woleford reported school basketball and badminton was played on the canvas floor of the Wells (near Barkerville) community hall. Given its vital role in Williams Lake, the Elks Hall was quickly replaced after it burned down in 1949.  66  team, into mixed-gender sports such as badminton, and softball: "Oh, we played ball, we did all kinds of things — boys and girls, yeah we usually played together." Much larger high schools were more distinctly stratified by gender. Well into the 1950s, compared to the second 27  generation, a greater proportion of this generation participated in such activities as teacher Anne Stevenson's Drama Club or the Christmas concert. As David Tomiyasi recalled, "Everybody took part in Christmas concerts in those days" beginning with preparations for the "big event" in the fall. If there were comparatively fewer activities organized for this generation they also appear to have grown up under more pressure to conform and join in whatever activity was taking place. Harriett Wilson who "wasn't too crazy about baseball" felt coerced into playing: "It was forced on you at recess time." Teachers and the P-TA organized clubs, teams and activities for youth in and outside the school convinced extra-curricular activities addressed several vital needs. Young people needed to be kept physically and mentally "occupied" while experimenting in a variety of activities thought to enrich one's life. Friendship formation and positive socialization would be guided if not monitored by well-intentioned adults. Last but not least, organized activities helped forge school esprit du corps.  28  Thus teachers organized extra-curricular "ball" and  "hockey" teams and structured competition with aboriginal student teams from the "Mission" (practices were often confined to lunch period to accommodate bus pupils). With the help of the P-TA, they organized popular events, including "totally chaperoned" and well-attended monthly dances, as well as the famous annual Sports Day down on the Stampede Grounds for  See John Modell and J. Trent Alexander, "High School in Transition: Community, School, and Peer Group in Abilene, Kansas, 1939." History of Education Quarterly 37.1 (Spring 1997): 1-24. 27  See Chapter 7 for elaboration. This needs ideology is amplified in John R. Seeley, R. Alexander Sim and Elizabeth W. Loosley, Crestwood Heights: A Study of the Culture of Suburban Life (N.Y.: John Wiley, [1956] 1963), as well as Joseph Kett, Rites of Passage: Adolescence in America 1790 to the present (New York: Basic Books, 1977), Chapter 9. 28  67 all students from surrounding schools. Youth looked forward to such events and rural teens who otherwise had "no real reason" to come into town often arranged overnight stays with friends in order to attend. In the late-1950s the student population o f Williams Lake Junior-Senior H i g h School began to approach a "threshold" mass o f around 500 pupils enabling a range o f extra-curricular activities, athletics, and clubs o f the sort offered in large secondary schools.  29  On 8 April,  1959, over 400 students moved into a new two-storey high school with a full-sized gymnasium and a "beautiful new stage and proper lighting system."  30  That year, pupils were offered an  array o f extra-curricular options including Annual, Photography, M o d e l (replica construction), Square Dance, School Newspaper, Drama clubs, even a D o r m C h o i r .  31  Students held a  Musical Fashion Show, a Spring Tea, and five dances. Although a few team sports were lacking (for example, volleyball, curling, or a hockey team as in the 1940s), pupils had a choice o f others including boxing, mixed badminton, senior boys and girls' basketball, junior and senior boys and girls Softball teams which competed inter-scholasticalty (both senior teams won championships in Prince George that year), as well as girls and boys track and field teams. Girls clearly assumed leadership roles i n school i n these years. The 1958-59 Students Council President was female as was the editor o f the 1956-57 school annual. In the 1956-57 school year, girls predominated i n most school clubs including a sixteen member Student  A synthesis of the literature on "school size effects" suggests that enrollment beyond this "threshold" has little "appreciable effect" on students' academic or social activities. James Garbarino, "Some Thoughts on School Size and Its Effects on Adolescent Development."Journal of Youth and Adolescence 9.1 (1980): 19-30. 29  Students were impressed. Here was a "spacious" two-storied wood-clad school with a "colour scheme" that "really rocked us back on our heels. Blue and yellow and flamingo — or is it orange, red or salmon pink? ~ were a little startling to the eye." "Moving Day," Williams Lake High '59 Annual. 40. 30  Under the direction of Mrs. Anne Stevenson, the Drama Club won the highest mark in the Regional Finals of the B.C. Drama Festival in Prince George, Rita Brown taking the cup for best actress, and Phillip Mayfield, later Reform MP for the riding, the cup for best actor. 3l  68 Council, and seventeen member Inter-House Council. The latter played "a big part in school affairs," organizing lunch-hour and after-school activities "to keep students occupied." This Council divided the school population into Four Houses, each with their own emblem, the "Hound Dogs," "Blue M o o n , " "Thunderbirds," and "Be-Bopping ." Each House was responsible for organizing such events as the St. Patrick's D a y and St. Valentine's Day Dances, the Sadie Hawkins Party as well as the Fall Tea. The Inter-House Council also instituted the famous Indoor Track Meet at E l k s H a l l , a tradition enduring at Williams Lake Junior Secondary into the 1980s. B y 1959, growing student enrollment, high teacher turnover and a two-storied school complicated the patrolling o f students and called for the institution o f a limited peer surveillance system.  32  Twenty students elected from grades nine through twelve sported  armbands and Prefect badges, began to roam the hallways and parking lot offering "assistance to duty teachers." The Prefect system was a visible attempt to arrest student misbehaviour by initiating self-regulation among individuals o f the student corpus, at least according to its stated intent as "an invaluable means whereby responsible members o f the student body may sponsor the development o f a higher degree o f self-discipline."  33  Students i n leadership roles  internalized the need for rules governing proper conduct. However, the next year, when a four student panel appearing before the P - T A pointed out a system o f "rules" facilitated an adolescent's development into "happy, well-adjusted adults," they did not hesitate to add their own theory as to why peers sometimes broke those rules. A s the local paper reported it,  Williams Lake High '59. According to the school's annuals, only 5 of the 19 faculty of the 1956-57 school year were teaching at Williams Lake Junior-Senior Secondary in the 1958-59 school year. High teacher turnover rates persisted in the school district as well as in the village. In 1960, 55 of just over 100 teachers in the Williams Lake Teachers' Association were oriented as "newly appointed staff' to the district. Tribune. 21 September 1960, 4. 32  Williams Lake High '59. 40.  33  69 The rebellion o f some o f their [students] age group was mainly against the harsh unfairness o f some adults who expect respect while unwilling to earn it and who break many o f the laws they expect young people to u p h o l d . . . . M a n y who run afoul from society are often those children whose parents tried to make them different from themselves. I f a child was truly loved and forgiven it w i l l accept discipline. 34  The Second Generation In June 1964, Bob Scott, principal o f Williams Lake Junior-Senior Secondary School, announced the cancellation o f graduation ceremonies after fifty-seven o f the sixty-five grade twelve students along with some o f the grade elevens pulled a "sneak day and cut classes" in order to picnic out at Felker Lake. T o make matters worse, it was reported, "They compounded the crime by forming a motorcade on their return to town and drove through a playground and school zone at excessive speeds." The president o f the student council, D a v i d Zirnhelt, quickly repented: "Most o f us wish now we hadn't done it." Thus was a future member o f the provincial legislature and Cabinet first cast into the public eye. Although Laketown residents initially split over the principal's decision, most eventually sided with the school and supported Scott. The following year, graduation once again vied with the annual Stampede for the community's attention.  35  If this adolescent prank portrays senior high school students i n the mid-1960s as comparatively more assertive, even brazen than those a decade earlier, it was unlikely those same students had entered high school with such confidence. Their elementary to secondary transition was more likely a year o f adjustment, even trauma. Whether they had come from local or rural elementary schools, many subjects specified "grade eight" (as opposed to age  Tribune. 30 March 1960, 6.  34  Tribune. 30 June 1965,7.  35  70 thirteen) as one o f their most important adolescent years.  36  The trepidation with which they  approached "high school" was fashioned, in part, by formalistic elementary school teachers, curriculum, and the use o f the strap.  Males i n particular recounted use o f the strap i n their  elementary school. Randy Aston remembered that when someone threw a cowpie into a student's face, the teacher o f his one-room school "lined us a l l up, everybody i n the whole school and gave us a licking." L i k e Rusty Shaw, what worried C a l R e i d was not the "strap at school," but the fact that "then we got it at home." Lynn Blacksmith, the only woman who claimed she was strapped (for stealing a lunch), said, " Y o u didn't mess around too much in school — it was fun — but you didn't mess around too much." Eldon Lee recalled a single occasion in the 1930s when a girl received the strap. Applied lightly and almost perfunctorily, it was nonetheless a humiliation which apparently "any" o f the boys in the class would have gladly suffered in her place.  37  Student timidity at high school entry was also a response to a considerably larger school and cohort group, more teachers and classes, and a "rotation" system. In the 1965-66 school year, there were 183 grade eights alone i n Williams Lake Junior-Senior Secondary; i n the 1968-69 school year, 276, including most subjects o f the Class o f ' 7 3 .  38  Randy Aston, who  arrived at W L J S from a local elementary school, recalled the new juniors were treated like "peons" by older students: "Grade eight kids — it didn't matter who you were, you just minded your own business and git [sic] out o f the way!" Grade eight was "tough" on Carol Davis, but after that first year o f high school, she remembered every year was a bit better than the last so  36  The other age often cited is age sixteen when subjects procured a driver's licence.  "Todd and Eldon Lee, "Miss Milligan and Her Grade One Class," From California to North 52 — Cariboo Experiences (Prince George: Caitlin Press, 1994), 17-21. Beginning in 1961, Grade VO" became an elementary grade (See Appendix II).  38  71 that "grade twelve was a super time . . . one o f the best times o f my life." A s i n the past, "country" students from rural elementary "feeder" schools faced generally greater adjustments than "town" kids. Going to school " i n town" still meant they not only immediately enjoyed a major reduction i n the number o f hours spent working alongside family on the farm or ranch but also faced new pressures such as longer busing routes or living arrangements with a family or i n the dormitory at least on weekdays.  It was in the high school  that many Laketown and country youth met for the first time. C a l R e i d recalled the fall o f 1968: Grade eight was a big change i n our lives because that's when the kids from the rural areas start coming into the school so you went from four grade seven classes [in the largest elementary schools] to eight or nine grade eight classes . . . it was a completely new world. A lot o f those kids never came into town to play hockey or baseball. . . Grade eight was the big one . . . that's when the rural kids came into town i n their lumber shirts or their blue jeans and their cowboy boots. One such "cowboy," Logan Lassiter, had just moved from a ranch in the western United States to a Cariboo ranch outside Williams Lake.  In contrast to the "really solid," "bright and shiny  and clean" brick American high schools, Williams Lake Secondary struck him as a "dark and dingy," even "shoddy" school, but "the main thing was that there was so many kids there and you just got lost i n the shuffle. So grade eight was pretty rough on me. I was lucky to get through it." Not all country teens fared so badly. Raylene Erickson, for example, was "almost programmed" by her older cousins to fit immediately into high school i n the "city.": It's not easy coming from the country. I ' d been warned that for three years. I sort o f rebelled the country. I wanted to become a city kid. I left grade seven here — remember I had cousins before me and they said, "Town's terrible, they'll call you a hayseed," and I thought, "I won't be this way. I ' l l get tied i n with some town kids right to start with and I ' l l make my way." A n d I did. I was very big for my age back then too. I was tall i n grade eight. Everybody thought I was a teacher - backcomb[ed] my hair way up. I got in with the town kids and it was good.  72  WILLIAMS LAKE JUNIOR - SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL *  111. 15. Williams Lake Junior-Senior High School, 1964-65. Source: annual, The Laker. 1965.  111. 16. "Pushing their way through jammed corridors o f Williams Lake H i g h School are some members o f this year's student explosion in population. The teacher at the left has to take a bowl o f soup down to the other end o f the corridor. Tribune photographer, Art Long, did not wait around to see what happened." September 1966. Courtesy o f Williams Lake Tribune  73 In 1967, country students at the dormitory were ruled by M i s s Green, a "dorm matron" with a "firm and steady hand." The "dorm" students adhered to her task schedules outlining bed-making, hall cleaning and kitchen duties — no doubt labour lighter than that faced at home:  Table 2. Schedule at the High School Dormitory, 1967.  7:00 am 7:30 am 3:30 pm 5:00 pm 5:00-9:30 or 10:00  Wake Breakfast (temporarily in Home Economics room until cafeteria is completed); pack Lunch Classes finished Dinner Free time until they return to their rooms  Green did not compel students "to follow definite study programs." Students were paired i n bedrooms. They spent hours i n the "spacious" dorm recreation room which had a television set, ping-pong table, shuffleboard, record player, and piano and even a stove for making afterdinner snacks. Written notes from a parent permitted them to smoke i n that room, or allowed them access to the drive-in or the theatre although they had to return immediately after the movie was over. According to Green, "most" students returned home on weekends, but others had "so much fun that after they have been here for three or four months, they'd like to stay forever." Green had to "ease away" from these students.  39  The 1960 Chant Commission's promulgation o f a focus on pupils' intellectual development met with the opposition o f classroom teachers as well as academics, and by the mid-1960s, discovery-based curricula and neo-progressivism sweeping Canadian public  Tribune. 4 October 1967, 16.  39  74  education began to displace the formalism and focus on academic rigour in the district.  40  As  the local paper reported it, "The old concept o f education for the sole purpose o f advancing economically is being replaced by a new ideal — education for the reward o f knowing more."  41  Martin Hamm, the assistant superintendent, explained the trend to area residents i n the fall o f 1966. Emphasis had shifted from "the traditional classroom to that o f the enquiry-discovery oriented classroom," for example, from a "lecture and question orientation" to "students learning on their own." Teachers now "guided" students. Classrooms would function as "source centres," and teachers as "resource people."  42  The paradigm shift in education was, in  part, also prompted by the notion that schools had to be more humane when dealing with students such as Janet Bailey who had failed a primary grade and thereafter struggled with a "poor self-concept." If the new educational philosophy turned classrooms into less formalistic places, subsequent experimentation on the part o f educators also claimed a new sort o f victim. T w o female subjects recalled their disastrous encounter with "the new open learning thing" at Marie Sharpe Elementary School in 1968 where a select group o f able grade seven students were "put into a room to work" and "left to do anything" at their own pace. Left with too little teacher intervention and guidance, at least some students with proven academic ability apparently began to suffer.  "The experiment" failed, claimed one o f these women, because at age twelve,  "we weren't responsible enough": "I really s u f f e r e d . . . . O f course all we did was bring our  "°See British Columbia, Report of the Roval Commission on Education (Victoria, 1960); for the Chant Commission in perspective, see Jean Barman and Neil Sutherland, "Royal Commission Retrospective," in Barman, et. al., Children. Teachers & Schools, esp. 419-20; on neo-progressivism, J. Donald Wilson and Hugh A. Stevenson, eds., Precepts. Policy and Process: Perspectives on Contemporary Canadian Education (London, Ont.: Alexander Blake Associates, 1977). Tribune. 10 November, 1965, 14.  41  Cited in Tribune. 23 November 1966,21.  42  75 record player i n there . . . that's when the Monkees were ' i n ' and we were dancing to albums." The other woman was even more frustrated over the experience which i n her case destroyed her former good work habits ~ a prerequisite for success i n high school: I was a smart k i d i n grade six, A and B average. A l l o f a sudden, [teachers announced] "We're not going to have teachers, this is a new program . . . we have six months o f work figured out, we have the guidelines." There are seven o f us stuck i n this little room. There were four snotfaces . . . and all we did was yak and giggle. I just failed so miserably and yet you could not go for help. They'd tell you, well, there's your guidelines. W e l l , I'm sorry — to this day I don't think that experiment worked . . . . That was a terrible experiment because it screwed up my life so by the time I got to grade eight, I was getting D s and Es. Students entering junior or senior high school i n the mid-1960s and early 1970s found themselves segregated on the basis o f academic performance. Janet Bailey was bitter about the process at Williams Lake Junior Secondary: They classified us. They made us write this test and however we did on this test, they put us in either 8-1, 8-2, 8-3, 8-4, 8-5, 8-6, 8-7 and 8-8. M o s t o f the Aboriginal kids were i n 8-7 and 8-8. That's where I ended u p . . . . W e were i n the dummy class. The 8l s and 8-2s were the smart kids. A n d lots o f my friends were i n that, 'cause I hung around with smart kids, but I was always the one that was i n the lower end. Additionally, between 1963 and 1971, a minority o f students at W L J S (never more than three or four dozen) were identified as "Occupational," " O c c s " being students whom teachers regarded as unable to continue successfully with the core curriculum and who would otherwise drop out o f school. From 1966 to 1974, senior students at the new Columneetza Senior Secondary, were streamed into one o f four high school curriculum streams: AcademicTechnical (renamed Arts and Sciences after 1972), Commerce, Industrial, Community Services.  43  A fifth stream, "Combined Studies," was added in 1973. Most students fell into  one o f the first three categories (See Appendix lU). B y offering expanded and more relevant  Columneetza Senior Secondary opened in the 1966-67 school year. "Columneetza" was the name chosenfromstudent contest entries. It resembles an Athapaskan term meaning "meeting of the princely peoples." 43  76 programs, the province sought to encourage a greater proportion o f adolescents to complete secondary schooling.  44  C a l R e i d who was on the Arts and Sciences program summed up the  streamed curriculum, "It was cut-and-dried. If they felt you struggled with the academic side o f it, you went straight into the v o c a t i o n a l . . . get your woodwork, metalwork, basketweaving, just to get through the system." It wasn't really that simple when one also considers the gendered curriculum. Between 1967 and 1974, for example, 440 males and 413 females were enrolled i n the Grade X I Academic-Technical, or Arts and Sciences stream at Columneetza Senior Secondary. Gender parity diminished when students enrolled i n Grade XII. In the same time period, 451 males enrolled i n Grade 12, but only 354 females. Tracking Grade X I students' movements into Grade X I I reveals females were more likely than males to leave the stream. In 1972-73, 104 Grade X I males were enrolled i n Arts and Sciences program. A year later, seventy-one were enrolled i n Grade XII. In 1972-73, there were 113 Grade X I females in the program, but a year later only forty-nine were enrolled in Grade XII.  M o r e females than males left the stream for  the "Combined Studies" program which allowed students a broader range o f courses. Nowhere was the curriculum more gendered than in the Commercial and Industrial streams. Between 1967 and 1974 the Grade X I Commercial stream attracted a total o f seventeen males and 259 females while the Grade X I Industrial stream drew 257 males and only two females (See Appendix lU).  One subject, "thoroughly bored" with the gendered curriculum, "the  typical female stuff' ("I'd rather be pulling wrenches than making bread") persuaded a  'Barman and Sutherland, "Royal Commission Retrospective," 420.  77 counsellor at Columneetza to allow her to enter a Power Mechanics class at Columneetza.  45  Literacy, numeracy, race and gender aside, factors such as motivation by parents, selfinitiative, and visions o f a career propelled students into different programs. A girl i n the "experiment" at Marie Sharpe Elementary later claimed she lacked encouragement from teachers and especially her parents, and eventually shied away from the Academic-Technical stream at Columneetza Senior Secondary: "I just knew there was nobody pushing me to do any better, so I took all the easy [courses], you know, General M a t h . . . I did all the General courses." Another subject, Raylene Erickson graduated purely to please her parents, "especially my dad," a task she accomplished by also steering clear o f all academic courses. Parental encouragement, even threats, kept other students hard at work on courses even when such courses turned out to be disappointing or otherwise did not meet their needs or interests. C a l Reid's father seemed forceful in this regard. When a report card came home with "a couple o f Fs and D s , " C a l ' s father simply announced C a l wouldn't be playing any more hockey i f the trend wasn't reversed: "That's when my dad threatened me with my hockey skates." C a l ' s grades improved. Typically, however, most parents appeared to remain uninvolved i n a son or daughter's school work, a point many subjects now regretted. There was "no push" claimed one subject. " M o m and dad never helped us with our homework. School was our responsibility," claimed  This subject recalled the fact there was no restriction on girl's attire at the school made this easier. As an aside, a systematic comparison of rural and urban schools on the issue of girl's dress might prove interesting. It is noteworthy that while Katie Jean Kurtz recalled her female pupils wore pants in the one-room Chezacut School in the mid-1950s, schools in Williams Lake itself enforced a sexist as well as impractical (considering the cold climate) urban-based imposition upon girls' freedom of dress until the late 1960s. Evelyn McLeod hated the constraint of a dress. She "couldn't wait to take off the dog" and get into pants and a shirt as soon as she got home from school "so that you could do something useful." Twenty years later, Cindy McEwan also "hated dresses and skirts" which she had to wear to WLJS. She recalls having to wear jeans underneath her dress because of the cold and then removing the pants upon arrival at the school: "And that was kind of a stupid thing, especially for Williams Lake, I mean, it's so relaxed and so easy-going and we'd have to wear dresses and skirts." 45  another. One woman remembered she "sort o f just breezed through" her high school years. I f any parent came to the school, it was her mother whenever "my brothers got into trouble." For students on the verge o f failure, parental expectations and "push" helped determine whether they entered the academic-technical or a "vocational" stream. M a n y second generation subjects, unlike their older counterparts, placed part, or even a great deal o f the responsibility for their own lack-luster performances upon teachers. H i g h school teachers, o f course, brought varying skills as well as motivations and commitments to bear upon their pedagogical task. For three decades after the Second W o r l d War, for example, interior districts like Williams Lake were known at least among some teachers as "a place to put i n a year or t w o " before trying to land a permanent job i n what they considered a more favourable area such as the Lower Mainland, Okanagan Valley, or Vancouver Island.  46  Non-  individualized instruction failed to address Janet Bailey's academic difficulties in junior high: "Basically, it was more lecture-style and it was b o r i n g . "  47  Janet's isolation deepened at  Columneetza Senior Secondary School where students were comparatively more independent as well as more responsible for their learning: "I got through because the teachers a l l liked me you k n o w . . . I was popular." M o s t other subjects graduating high school in the early 1970s described a "fairly l a x " curriculum which they associated with l o w teacher expectations. Steve Teller from the class o f '73 earned top marks through junior high school but thereafter allowed  ^This point is substantiated by Peter Smith, teacher at WLJS since 1970. Smith taught for two years at Burnaby South Secondary before moving to the Cariboo. Smith described teacher turnover around 1970 and put it this way: "If you were here for two years, you were probably going to stay for a while. If you were herefiveyears, you were an old-timer." Over the course of the 1970s, however, Williams Lake was increasingly perceived as "an easy drive to Vancouver," teaching jobs became more difficult to secure in the province and teachers began to stay. Interview, Williams Lake, 17 August, 1995. In 1980, approximately 80 (or almost one in six) of the district's almost 500 teachers were new or replacement teachers. This criticism is well-documented, and castigated, in A.B. Hoggetts, What Culture? Whose Heritage? A Study of Civic Education in Canada (Toronto: OISE, 1968). 47  79 grades to slip. He "coasted" through grade twelve: I graduated no problem with Bs and C s when I could have had As. I just couldn't be bothered. I didn't do homework. It wasn't cool to take home homework. It's s a d . . . but I never took home homework a l l through senior high s c h o o l . . . . A n d there's no getting around it. I had very few teachers . . . who challenged me. D i c k Uldorf, who completed an undergraduate university degree, also characterized his high school Academic-Technical courses as "boring" and irrelevant. Even Maths and Sciences (his favourite subjects) had been barely tolerable: "Some o f the subjects I was really looking forward to enjoying were the greatest disappointments sometimes." H e thought "a lot o f the teachers" were "quite mediocre" i n their "understanding o f their subject matter," citing the example o f one teacher "who d i d not understand basic grade eleven and twelve Chemistry and the concepts being taught there," a teacher who often relied upon "the answer book". I still remember, we just pissed ourselves the day he decided to look at the chemical properties o f phosphorus and so he started to take this piece apart. . . and it's still in oil so it doesn't get to the air, and he says, ' O h , this piece is quite big, let's cut a small piece off and see what its properties are,' so he picks it up, cuts it off on his desk and we had this great big fire! [Laughter]. Few subjects esteemed a teacher who proved unable to control the learning environment. Sandy Butchart, for instance, recalls how she and her classmates "terrorized" substitute teachers: "I used to feel so sorry for them and we went out o f our way to make their lives miserable. I can remember just tearing those poor people apart, now that you think about it." Howard Underwood recalls he deplored what he perceived to be shifts towards more permissive and easily intimidated teachers coming into high school in the mid-to-to late 1960s. Howard's upbringing (his involvement with the A i r Cadets, as well as his father's military background) meant he understood and appreciated discipline and orderliness and had been unable to condone shifting student attitudes toward authority.  Howard dealt at length with his  80 M a t h teacher whom others had also cited as a good teacher, and whom he still greatly admired: I don't think there was anybody that didn't like . H e ' d get along with the jocks and they respected him . . . H e demanded respect... . [He] was one o f the best teachers y o u ' l l ever find . . . he could teach for twenty minutes and he could bugger around for forty — but don't ever start buggering around before he gave the go-ahead. N o one would lend him a racquet [laughter] because i f he missed a shot, he was sure as heck to break i t ! . . . . God! i f he spoke — and you goddam-well listened and I don't care who you were or what a rascal or an asshole or what type o f an individual you were at sixteen. would just take you and thrash you. . . . But there were a lot o f teachers intimidated or started to become intimidated [by students], and that became almost a shame as it progressed [emphasis i n original]. A n d I could never do that to a teacher. This narrative aside, this generation generally constructed what they considered their best teachers in terms other than strictness. It is not that this generation didn't value strictness, which they did, but unlike their older counterparts, they preferred "committed" teachers who "worked hard" to get students to understand and pass a subject, by devoting attention to individuals within or outside the class, by making the subject more relevant, or by structuring new educational projects. Teacher A , for example, "really worked hard with me to get me through my M a t h . " Teacher B was a band teacher who "challenged" and "pushed" each student to become proficient with a variety o f instruments. Subjects dismissed other teachers precisely because they failed to stimulate students: " Y o u ' d be half-way through the semester and they really didn't have anything else to teach you." Teacher C devoted considerable time and energy to the "fabulous" Europe '70 Tour i n which over sixty students from grades nine to twelve spent six weeks in Europe. This became a significant event in students' lives fostering relationships among students in different grades who up to that point would not "dare" to speak never mind associate with each other. The trip remains etched as a watershed event in the  collective memory o f many graduates o f the Class o f ' 7 3 .  4 8  Subjects also considered their best teachers to be those who tempered instruction with a sense o f fairness, humour, or an ability to "relate" to and respect young people.  49  Teacher D  "was strict yet he was a very pleasant teacher. I found that i f they were pleasant and easy to get along with, school and the subject seemed to go much better." Teacher E , another good teacher, "was hilarious." Teacher F was creative, relevant, and built rapport with students by having them analyze the meaning o f Beatle lyrics i n English class: "It made it a little more interesting; you were relating to something." Apparently, teacher G ' s sense o f good pedagogy appealed to many students. He appeared initially as an "odd" teacher who conducted classes with only "five or ten" students i n attendance. Eventually, G won over his senior class.  Dick  U l d o r f recalls, G not only "presented the material quite w e l l , " but his approach to students was also the "first sort o f a mature one" many o f them had experienced. G told students from the outset, ' " I f you want to come, I ' l l teach you something; i f you don't want to come. . . . K i d s liked h i m . . . by the end o f the year, he actually ended up with a full class." H o w surprising is it that a generation desiring everlasting youth ("Never trust anyone over thirty") learned to value young and energetic teachers? Teacher H "just came i n when I was i n grade nine . . . new, y o u n g . . . so many o f our teachers were o j d . . . ancient [emphasis in original]." One's youth did not, however, compensate for character flaw or poor judgements. Teacher J was young, but is best remembered as a new coach who directly or indirectly pitted team-mates against one other.  The girls became bitter when she failed to lead  One couple began a romantic relationship on the tour and later married. The trip was thetopicof many discussions at the Twenty-Year High School Reunion of the Class of '73. 4S  "'"Circular respect" between teacher and student was seen as an important basis for exemplary teaching in one analysis of American high schools. See Sara Lawrence Lightfoot, The Good High School: Portraits of Character and Culture (New York: Basic Books, 1983), 209.  82  the team into the high school provincials championships. "I hated her," one woman said, " W e all hated her for what she d i d . " Finally, Laketown youth appreciated teachers who stayed and accepted young people on their own terms.  C a l Reid, for instance, disliked the sort o f teacher "from Vancouver" with an  urban-minded "attitude," set o f "expectations," and "way o f life," who "couldn't relate" to regional "lifestyles." To ranch kids "busy with chores," or "town" boys tied to hectic hockey schedules, homework was regarded as an imposition, an invasion o f "our time." Teacher attitudes changed as their residency i n the Cariboo-Chilcotin lengthened and as they became more "laid back": "The ones that had been here for a while I l i k e d . . . . The ones that I always had trouble with were brought in. It was their first or second year o f teaching." Fewer than a dozen "good" teachers were identified repeatedly by various subjects as individuals who had an effect on their lives. One teacher cited for her outstanding efforts initiated athletic programs for girls: W e had for grade eight and nine for P.E. and she did field hockey. Field hockey was very big i n Williams Lake in those days because o f her [emphasis i n original]. Every year we w o u l d . . . w i n the zones to go to p r o v i n c i a l s . . . . She was an excellent teacher, an excellent coach, probably why I enjoyed sports so much . . . and she did them all. She d i d the basketball in those days. Influential teachers were not always drawn from the high school. W i l l i a m Sangha still admired his elementary school principal. The woman was a touchstone in his life. Following his father's accident (see Chapter 4), she had looked in on the family, overseen W i l l i a m ' s education i n the broadest sense, and taken a vital interest in the "key points o f my life." She had ensured W i l l i a m integrated into the wider community by taking part in such things as Junior Forest Wardens and the M u s i c Festival and she had also tracked his progress throughout his secondary and post-secondary years.  111. 17. "Beatnik Dance at W L J S , 1964-65." From left to right, Students Eddie Illnicki and Lynn Fourt, and teachers, M i s s Jellett and M r . Stedham. Source: Laker 1965.  111. 18. Teachers at W L J S . M r . B . Sales and M r . C . Wyse. Source: W L J S annual, 1973-74.  84  Despite such appraisals, compared to their first generation counterparts, this generation was more critical, even bitter, o f both curriculum and teachers. Teachers gained notoriety for various reasons. One was "boring"; another was "narrow-minded"; a third individual "drank too much." One teacher was "too rough" with students. Others were unfair: "I had ' X ' I didn't like. H e was a bully. He had favourites, extreme favourites. M y daughter actually had h i m in grade eleven . . . and he was exactly the same way. . . . He wasn't a fair teacher. H e didn't grade you fairly." Several subjects cited examples o f teachers who knew the subject-matter, but were nonetheless pedagogical failures. A s one man put it, they were "the type o f person . . . that's taken for industrial education because he knows how to cut lumber straight but doesn't know how to handle people, or knows the basic electricity, only knows the right answer, doesn't know how to really explain it. If you don't get it right, you'd have to come and do detentions." Instructional methods i n the late 1960s may have dampened student interest i n the subject matter, but Columneetza Senior Secondary's voluntary attendance policy also increased student absenteeism while lowering academic performance. In 1967, Principal A l M c M i l l a n reported "most" parents endorsed the notion that students should learn to "regulate their own life," and attend classes at their "discretion."  50  Four Columneetza students returning  from a Kiwanis-sponsored exchange i n Bewster, Washington, proudly asserted their American counterparts were comparatively coddled: "Students down there seem to have to be pushed into everything." They couldn't leave the school grounds without parental consent. The students also noted other differences. Grade twelve girls at Columneetza typically went out with "older  Approximately 100 grade XU in 3 classes at Columneetza began this experiment in mid-November 1967, following a year's consultation with Campbell River Senior High which had voluntary attendance. Tribune. 15 November 1967, 7. 50  [out-of-school] guys": " D o w n there, they all stick right to their own grades! [sic]." When it came to chaperoning dances, Columneetza teachers " a l l mixed i n , " while at Brewster, "they sit by the walls and look stupid."  51  A t the time, Columneetza's student attendance policy fit i n well with its avant-garde architecture. Local school district trustees and architects had visited the "ultra-modern" Joel E . Ferris H i g h School in Spokane, Washington, and impressed after witnessing "one o f North America's few campus-type high schools i n action," promptly imported two o f its features into Columneetza's design: a lack o f bells and a "campus" with a spacious courtyard.  52  Columneetza's physical layout, "among the first i n Canada," consisted o f several modules connected by covered walkways, an aesthetically pleasing yet ecologically poor design students and teachers came to lament i n cold winters.  53  A t the time, however, Columneetza exuded  freedom to students such as Steve Teller: W e really took full advantage o f the fact that it was a free school — that's kind o f what they called it. It was brand new, California design, we all sat around and ate chips and gravy in the cafeteria and smoked cigarettes and just had a blast! [emphasis in original]. There was no learning, absolutely no learning. A n d I know the same applies for the same friends that were my age that went to school. I didn't learn very much in high school. Most o f my learning came from me having to go back to school. In 1971, five years after Columneetza Senior Secondary opened, the vice-principal, Dave A . Shore, cautioned students its laissez-faire days might be drawing to a close.  Shore  pointed out that Columneetza students "enjoyed the privilege o f certain freedoms not typical o f  'Tribune. 29 November 1967, 12.  5  Ferris High School, unlike "any other high school in the continent," had no bells to sound the end of classes and consisted of five modern buildings centred about a spacious courtyard: "On the perimeter are the sound or odour areas which include the industrial or fine arts building, homemaking building, gymnasium, field house, and science building . . . the physical structure is built for team teaching, the facet of the institution which most interested the Williams Lake party." Tribune. 13 October 1965, 8. 52  Ibjd.  53  86 most secondary schools" including freedom from overcrowding, liberty to organize their own free time, the use o f the cafeteria as a common room, as well as "the goodwill o f the community." But, Shore warned, the school could no longer steer this sort o f course as it faced its largest enrollment the following year; furthermore, freedoms were " i n jeopardy" as the school was "under close scrutiny by people who believe in a more regimented system."  54  When a second junior high school, Anne Stevenson, opened i n the 1973-74 school year, comparisons were inevitably made with Williams Lake Junior Secondary. Subjects and past teachers at both schools acknowledged perceived differences i n teacher outlooks and expectations between the older W L J S with its core o f established teachers and A S J S with its so-called "radicals" freshly graduated from Simon Fraser University.  55  W i l l i a m Sangha who  attended both schools, recalled his negative experience at W L J S : One time in grade eight ~ I was very good in English — I wrote an essay and the teacher said to me, " Y o u did not write this essay. I ' m only going to give you a C plus, you must have plagiarised." I said, " W h y ? " , and he said, "I don't think you're capable o f writing it." N o w nothing was spoken but I think his conception was that a little Indo-Canadian k i d isn't capable o f writing it, because he had never met a little Indo-Canadian k i d like me who could speak English very well, who was articulate, all those things. W i l l i a m lived i n the A S J S catchment, enrolled i n the school i n the fall o f 1973 and was soon admiring its "very young," "idealistic" teachers. H e felt they empathized with him. H e felt validated by them: Things began to really change for me. I started to perform better and have more c o n f i d e n c e . . . . I really, really developed a lot o f confidence and there was a lot o f support from the teachers and they began to also recognize me in the sense, ' Y o u ' r e doing good w o r k ' . . . 'you are smart' [emphasis in original]. According to Norman Flit and M i l l i e Jacobs, Aboriginal families on some reserves such as  'D.A. Shore, Vice Principal's Message, Cougar 1971. Columneetza school annual. 'Interviews with Dick Shute, Jack Berger and Pete Smith as well as my own recollections.  87 A l k a l i Lake also began to target this new school rather than W L J S , which for two decades had integrated Aboriginal students. Despite W L J S ' much larger Aboriginal enrollment and resources including Native language classes, such families chose to send children to A S J S supposedly because it "accepted the Natives more than they did at W L . " B y the time the Class o f ' 7 3 entered Williams Lake Junior-Senior H i g h School i n 1968, the school offered a full-fledged assortment o f extra-curricular activities commensurate with any contemporary high school o f its size. In 1965, three dozen staff sponsored junior and senior boys and girls basketball teams (the Lakers and Lakettes), a junior and senior cheerleader team, sixteen clubs, as well as the usual almost bewildering assortment o f student events such as Students' Council campaigns, pancake eating contests, and dances including a Volleyball Victory Dance and a Beatnik Dance.  56  Numerically, females continued to dominate many o f the service-oriented clubs i n the school as well as i n the community, an observation publicly lamented i n the local paper: Strangely, in spite o f the great community efforts o f the M e n ' s Service Clubs, i n the youth field girls are far more apt than boys to be engaged i n good works. W h y should service at that age seem a l l too often to be a female prerogative? 57  There were thirty-one members i n the school's all-female Y-Teens, a group pledging "service to school and community" about twice the number (sixteen) in the male counterpart group, the B o y s ' Club, that provided only "service to the school."  58  A l l five members o f the Student  Council Executive, and eighteen o f the twenty-two members o f the Annual C l u b were female.  56i  High School Annual, The Laker. 1965.  57-1  ' Tribune. 29 September 1965, 11. Thirty young girls volunteered as Candy-Strippers, a group helping out in the local hospital. Local reorganization received the assistance of the Dawson Creek's auxiliary, apparently a "very active group." Ibid.. 15 December 1965, 16. Williams Lake Junior-Senior High School. Annual. The Laker - 1965.  58  88 The Library Club, Dance Committee, and Prefects consisted mostly o f females. Forty-two o f the forty-three members o f the Pep Club and all o f the cheerleaders were female. Students who had been active in extra-curricular activities i n smaller elementary schools faced suffer competition for team membership and often narrowed their focus. Steve Teller only made the " B string" i n the late 1960s partly for this reason: "The fact that I couldn't do as w e l l as I wanted probably is the reason I didn't do very much o f it." W i l l i a m Sangha had "participated in everything" from music festivals to spoken verse to sports teams i n his elementary school. In grade eight, he said, " Y o u ' r e no longer on the school soccer team. Only the best soccer players in the school get to play soccer and I wasn't quite in that category: Only the best volleyball players get to play volleyball. A n d basketball. And those guys are cool. A n d some o f them drink and they smoke and they have girlfriends, and I wasn't part o f t h a t . . . and also I think I was then excluded. There was an exclusion. Junior high was different. . . [But] I think this applied to a lot o f kids who were not visible minorities: it's a class thing, it's a nerd-jock thing, it's those who are a little more beautiful than the others or going into puberty quicker . . . [emphasis in original]. Even those "jocks" became more selective in honing their talents.  Cindy M c E w a n , who  played "a lot o f sports" and considered it a "very important part o f my growing up," began to concentrate upon field hockey and basketball, sports in which she excelled. C a l R e i d who had enjoyed playing all team sports "quit" basketball and volleyball in order to devote time to minor hockey and his skill developed to the point where he was later offered hockey scholarships. Tighter time budgets and declining interests i n such activities kept other students from extra-curricular participation. W i l l i a m Sangha hurried home to attend to his father and supervise his younger sister.  Sacrificing extra-curricular activities entirely was "an easy  choice" for D i c k U l d o r f who worked after school in order to save for university. Howard  89 Underwood, who devoted many hours to a variety o f intramurals i n his elementary as well as junior secondary grades such as curling, bowling and badminton, restricted extra-curricular to curling i n his senior years, but remained active i n hockey, horse riding, and hunting. Commuting students found distance from school mitigated against their involvement i n athletics even i f they were so inclined. Lynn Blacksmith, who loved "rough and tumble" type o f activities, was only able to participate i n floor hockey as she didn't dare miss the bus: " I f I missed it I walked." Swamped nightly by domestic labour, Lynn devoted lunch hours i n the library catching up on homework.  W i t h several children to drive into town, Raylene  Erickson's parents allowed each child a single team sport each year so that parents "weren't running back and forth" between home and school. Compared to the first generation, many more individuals o f this generation perceived extra-curricular activities as, at best, only a minor aspect o f one's adolescence. In 1970, V i c e Principal Shore noted the year had been marked by a "lack o f student participation" and interest i n "school affairs" including the Student C o u n c i l .  59  Although Steve Teller did commit  time to this Council he considered a l l other extra-curricular activities as redundant: "I had a big enough circle o f people to hang out and do stuff with that I was busy. I didn't need to be i n a club to find things to do." M i k e Edson was becoming involved i n the "party" and "street scene" i n W i l l i a m s Lake and losing a l l interest i n extra-curricular activities: "I didn't take part in anything." Sandy Butchart would occasionally play baseball at lunch time " i f there was teams organized"; otherwise, she remained a passive participant: " I f there was a basketball game going on we would occasionally go and watch that." Although Raylene Erickson made a sports team she was cavalier about sports. R o a d trips were a mere excuse for another "party":  'Columneetza Senior Secondary School Annual, Cougar 1970.  111. 19. "First Student Council Dance, 1964." Source: Laker 1965  111. 22.  Pep Club at W L J S . Source: Laker 1965  111. 23.  "Boys' Club. Gives service to the school." Source: Laker 1965  111. 25. The Lakettes. Senior Girls Basketball Team. Source: Laker. 1965  111. 26. Lakers [Sr. Boys Basketball team] preparing to leave for Vancouver. Laker 1965  94 "It was nothing for girls to take booze with them, and leave the hotel room, go to the other side o f [100 M i l e House], sit around, drink, drink, drink — the big thing was sneaking back;" They were found out "the odd time," but more often than not, the boys would be blamed: "The guys would get into trouble . . . and you'd hear the girls' teacher say, 'Those b o y s ' . . . " A s in the case o f the first generation, the high school remained important as a site o f friendship formation. Given the nature o f this region, many students such as Sandy Butchart or Lynn Blackford lived miles apart from and unable to gain access to friends.  School fulfilled  the same social function in their lives as it had for W i l m e Ruth Baxter or Katie Jean Kurtz. School, said Sandy, "That was my recreation. I loved going there." For Lynn, it meant respite from household labour. It was the one place Wendy Lorimar could get "away from responsibilities at home," the only place were she could avoid her father's restrictions over her social life. A n undetermined number o f youth mostly valued the social aspect o f schooling. The school, as M i k e Edson put it, was simply "a centre for people" into which individuals o f different origins were " a l l basically just dumped." According to M i k e Edson, "School was important because that was where a l l my friends were. . . . If you wanted to meet girls, you went to school." M i k e ' s attitude only changed when, as part o f a magistrate's disposition, he attended a term at an outdoor camp facility where he learned self-discipline and that he, i n fact, "could do things." Having once considered himself "academically a failure," M i k e returned to Columneetza: "I came back and finished high school off with honours, whereas high school before was just a place to hang out." That camp and not the high school proved the "turning point" i n M i k e ' s life as far as his self-esteem was concerned. Raylene Erickson's secondary schooling also remained synonymous with "social life."  95  After a summer o f work, she says, "I wanted to go back — for the social life." For a minority o f students such as Raylene, the Columneetza cafeteria became only one o f many sites to cluster, socialize, smoke and play cards ("We used to play poker a l l the time"), while skipping classes. Unlike another subject who described her group as "the losers," the "no-fitters" without access to vehicles and who habitually retired to the cafeteria before or after classes, or at lunchtime, Raylene was one o f the chronic absentees at Columneetz i n the early 1970s. W i t h myriad indoor and outdoor sites in which to congregate freely without adult supervision, money in their pocket, and access to a vehicle, this group often fled the school site: [another girl] and I, this is our schedule. W e ' d get off the bus, w e ' d have good intentions, w e ' d have to go to school — w e ' d missed so much. Y o u sit i n the cafeteria because w e ' d get to the school early — the bus did double runs i n those days. W e ' d sit there, w e ' d sit there [and say], "let's not go, let's not go." "Okay." So we go down to Sam's Restaurant, drink coffee 'til the bank opens, go to the bank, get our money and . . . go straight to the C h i l i [Chilcotin Pub]. was the barmaster i n the C h i l i and he would let us play pool for free until the first customers came in. After that we had to pay and we played pool for money. W e would w i n money playing pool. A n d then after school, the teachers would a l l come i n there, w e ' d see them. There's , there's M r . . They'd all be sitting there, never said nothing, never said nothing. A n d that was just over and over and over. O n this one report card, I missed all these days and I just scratched out the number. This generation o f subjects grew up in a comparatively more diverse, i f not divisive, student culture based on somatic differences, age, and physical development. "Gawky," "flatchested," teen-age girls such as Sandy Butchart felt "awful" next to " a l l these other chicks blossoming out." Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal students generally didn't mix, nor d i d seniors and juniors. "Tough" teens intimidated or imposed themselves physically upon weaker peers. While this sort o f physical harassment did not usually cross gender lines at least in the school setting, psychological and sexual harassment was another matter. The older generation had been silent on this point. Sandy Butchart, who otherwise loved school, had v i v i d memories o f  96 agonizing peer torment: "I can remember getting a cold sore on my lip and these two guys i n the back o f the classroom just made my life miserable . . . ' O h , you've got syphilis!'" Increasing enrollment and cultural diversity among the student corpus i n the 1960s and 1970s promoted social distance between individuals and encouraged development o f distinct factions.  B y the time subjects entered Columneetza Senior Secondary they recognized distinct  clusterings o f youths (See Chapter 5). The "jocks," for example, were distinguished as "betterdressed" individuals involved in many extra-curricular activities, a clique who " a l l sort o f stuck to themselves."  Other groups, the "greasers," "cowboys," "hippies" (or "heads"), and "hockey  players" had more difficulty sharing space amicably and most physical conflicts occurred between individuals from these cliques. These groupings appear male-defined as d i d most conflict. The culture o f male physical prowess evident i n the m i l l and on Laketown streets also tainted school culture: If it wasn't Friday after school, it was always after school, word would get around school, so and so is going to have a fight. O f course, everybody would charge down there and watch this fight. . . . Fighting was a sort of, well let's put it this way, a form o f entertainment. " D o r m kids," "Indians," and "Hindus" all appear cast as under-classes i n the school culture. " D o r m kids" formed a "group amongst themselves." " M o s t " were "cowboys and Indians," but "a lot o f the kids came from L i k e l y , " a logging community approximately an hour and a h a l f s drive from Williams Lake. A t the time, these youth struck one "town" female subject as backward: A lot o f social misfits lived in Likely. The Likely kids stood out because they were weird . . . I would suspect i f you were looking for something out o f Deliverance you could find it in Likely . . . morally not acceptable stuff. Nowadays, it's mostly heads that live out there, you know, back-to-nature kind o f people. Likely was [at the time] more loggers . . . party hard, that sort o f thing.  97 Although a few non-Aboriginal subjects claimed they crossed clique and "race" lines, typically, Aboriginal peoples are not only forgotten as classmates, but Aboriginal and nonAboriginal narratives suggest there were few meaningful and enduring friendships struck between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal students. A decade after Aboriginal students began to attend public high school i n Williams Lake, they "still didn't integrate very w e l l " with nonAboriginal students — nor apparently, among themselves.  60  In the mid-1960s, Joseph St.  Michelle and Marnie Williams faced their own factions at the Mission based on age ( " Y o u were told who to beat up" by older students), on reserve ("the Canim Lake guys"), or Nation ("Chilcotin," "Shuswap," or "Carrier"). After Joseph left the Mission and entered grade five at Marie Sharpe, peer conflict transformed into "all the Natives against the Whites. W e used to stick together." Steve Teller o f the Class o f '73 described how non-Aboriginal students typically viewed "race" relations i n the high school i n the late 1960s and early 1970s. N o n Aboriginal society was guilty not so much o f overt racism, thought Steve, but o f "just ignoring them": The ones I would have known the most were kids from Sugarcane, a lot o f [family] and those ones, the [family], and they were all soft-spoken and shy and so tended, I ' m sure — and this is maybe a bad thing — but they tended to sort o f blend in a lot. Y o u didn't pay much attention. Carol Davis confessed the reality o f Aboriginal students' experiences really only "sank i n " for  ^If this disharmony was a misconception held by non-Aboriginals, it was also a prevalent one in the Laketown at the time. Several subjects, including Joseph St. Michelle, pointed out heterogeneity among Aboriginal students. Members of the Shuswap nation were differentiated from those of the Chilcotin. "Shuswaps" were purportedly "much more softspoken and generally easy-going and not as aggressive as "Chilcotin" students. Shuswap, Chilcotin and Carrier nations, but particularly thefirsttwo nations were understood to be traditional and bitter enemies. Neither did there appear to be a single "Indian" culture at St. Joseph's Residential School. Individuals from the three nations intermixed "very little or only when necessary." Joseph St. Michelle; as well, Sister Germaine Lavigne, Teacher at Cariboo Indian Residential School. Untitled Manuscript. Sisters of Child Jesus Mother House, North Vancouver [nd.]; Sister Ethel M. Devlin, "The Sisters of the Child Jesus and Native Catholic Expansion in British Columbia " (St. Paul's University, Ottawa: unpublished paper, Faculty of Canon Law, 1983).  98 her almost two decades after she graduated from high school when an Aboriginal woman, a former classmate, explained she could not attend the Class o f ' 7 3 twenty-year school reunion to celebrate what had been "absolutely the worst time o f my life.  61  Janet Bailey was assigned to the "8-7" and 8-8" classes along with many Aboriginal students, but kept to her " o w n group" o f friends. She witnessed Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal passivism with teachers doing little to promote cultural understanding or social integration. Social distance spurred stereotypes: There didn't seem to be the animosity. . . . The native kids kind o f kept to themselves and we kind o f kept to ourselves. There wasn't anybody kind o f facilitating a situation, or there wasn't an outside influence to get us together and so we were a l l pretty separate, but lots o f times in class where we have some interaction, they kept to themselves really a lot. A n d o f course, I had my own group o f friends so I didn't make a big effort to get to know the native kids at all. But I didn't grow up thinking that I hated Indians and natives, but i n those days . . . there were a l l the drunks downtown and staggering and [such drinking establishments as] the Ranch and the Maple L e a f and the Chilcotin Inn and all that — so we basically were used to and we related to natives as being, you know, drunks. Members o f visible minorities and "othered" individuals sometimes gain deeper insights into the plight o f other "overlooked" subjects.  Unlike most subjects, Indo-Canadian  W i l l i a m Sangha was much more sensitive to the school experiences o f Aboriginal youth. Although Joseph St. Michelle initially failed grade eight at W L J S ("I failed miserably"), he became the only Aboriginal student from that class to graduate from grade twelve without subsequent failure. W i l l i a m noted a very high attrition rate among "a large number o f Aboriginal kids" in his grade eight class who were bussed into W L J S in the mid-1970s: B y about grade ten, I would say eighty to ninety percent o f them are gone . . . there was  While in conversation with this woman, Carol asked her if she was planning to attend the twenty-year reunion to which the woman replied, '"Why on earth would I want to come to a school reunion when that was absolutely the worst time of my life?'" This woman's response was an epiphany for Carol. Up until that point, nothing had made her consider the plight of Aboriginal students in school. 6I  99 a very overt racism, like it was aboriginal boys and girls who sat at the back o f the classrooms, they were always shunned — even in gym it manifested itself. They would get pushed around sometimes on the fields. A n d there was always the jokes about them being lazy or drunk or how easy the girls were targets for some o f the guys . . . it was more like, " H a , ha, guess who was drunk and guess who got her?" Although there were only sixteen Indo-Canadians present at Anne Stevenson Junior Secondary i n the 1973-74 school year and fewer at Williams Lake Junior and Columneetza Senior Secondary, an arguably more impermeable boundary began to divide Indo-Canadians from both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal students. Unlike the relationship between at least some non-Aboriginal males and Aboriginal females i n this community, for example, there was no courtship o f Indo-Canadians i n this time period — and, as W i l l i a m Sangha, C a l R e i d and others pointed out, everyone knew there could never be. Indo-Canadian parents were vigorous in restricting their children's association with the opposite sex regardless o f background. But Indo- and non-Indo-Canadian adolescents also drew boundaries. Unlike her town friends, Raylene Erickson was raised i n the country alongside Aboriginal peoples, got along with them at school (but not usually socially). She developed a different relationship with IndoCanadians: East Indian kids . . . they were a l l in there in school and we never riled at them and they never riled at us. It was a separate thing, right? W e stayed separate. W e never tried to m i n g l e . . . . That was common, we called them all Hindus whether they were Sikhs, whatever. W e didn't call them East Indians back then — just like we didn't call Indians, "Natives" back then. "Indians," "Indian kids" ~ "wagon-burners," actually - and I still call my friends at the reserve, "you wagon-burner you." Logan Lassiter, who had never encountered "East Indian" people i n his rural American school, recounted his own relationship with an Indo-Canadian male at W L J S who was "as Punjabi as they come." Perhaps because he found this particular boy "fascinating," or perhaps recalling his own arrival and subsequent isolation i n the school, Logan "felt sorry" for the boy, tried to  100 befriend him but found that language definitely limited friendship: I never made fun o f him, but you couldn't really be great friends because o f the fact o f the language b a r r i e r . . . L i k e I remember him in our French class and he couldn't even speak E n g l i s h ! . . . you know he felt so out o f place [emphasis i n original]." N o Indo-Canadian seemed more desperate to integrate socially i n this time period than W i l l i a m Sangha. W i l l i a m was Canadian-born, literate, intelligent, and considered himself well-integrated into curricular and extra-curricular mixed-gender groupings i n his elementary school where he habitually played alongside both non-Indo-Canadian boys and girls. Entering high school, and eager to pursue friendships, including romantic ones with non-Indo-Canadian girls, W i l l i a m discovered to his dismay that "most o f my friends became males, not females." In high school, he only established limited and superficial relationships (usually based upon discussions over curriculum) with girls: In my class, the females would talk to me, I'd help them with their homework, they'd help me with theirs, but. . . let's put it this way: I don't think there was an interest on the part o f the girls towards me. A n d it may have been just that [William] is a scrawny little k i d , " or it might be that I ' m not cool enough, or it may be that I ' m also actually a visible minority [emphasis in original].  B y the mid-to late 1950s secondary schooling not only became a realistic option for most youth in and around Williams Lake, but going to "high school" began to convey roughly the meaning it held for thousands o f secondary students in larger urban British Columbian schools. Improved access to secondary schooling informally through private boarding arrangements, and formally v i a the district's tripartite system o f Superior Schools, systematic busing o f students and the dormitory system all helped ensure most young people i n this area completed at least grade eight. The dormitory remains to this day a distinct feature o f secondary schooling i n this area. Current wait lists attest the dormitory still provides an  101 essential service to rural families.  62  In the late-1960s, individuals enrolling i n grade eight, "the year you stopped playing as a k i d , " at Williams Lake Junior-Senior Secondary experienced the same excitement, i f not trauma North American young people associated with entry into high school. Since 1959, its enrollment and facilities permitted implementation o f practices found i n other schools o f comparable size including age-graded classrooms, different teachers for each subject, a differentiated curriculum and a wide spectrum o f extra-curricular activities. Compared to the intimate school context o f the 1940s with its multi-age and mixed-gender groupings, students in the 1960s and early 1970s found themselves sorted formally by their teachers, and informally by peers. Gender, athletic ability, fashion and personality stratified youth as well as their clubs and sports teams. Aboriginal youth were structurally but not yet culturally integrated into the high school. Immigrant Indo-Canadian youth began to repeat that process late in the decade. If the lives o f Aboriginal, non-Aboriginal and Indo-Canadian students intersected at all, it was apparently only infrequently and imperfectly i n the school through curricular activities as structured by teachers. B y 1965, according to subjects, students were directed more by their individual w i l l to succeed academically, than by the admonishments or "push" o f caring parents or "good" teachers. M a l e and female subjects often cited lack o f "push," an irrelevant curriculum and a general disinterest in school as reasons for poor academic performance. A s we shall see, for many boys, school often competed unsuccessfully with the world o f work and the draw o f disposable income. Mindful from a young age o f the economic opportunities available locally for males i n the community, boys paid little heed to their school achievement and often  Tribune. 15 November, 1994, B l .  102 dropped out o f school before grade twelve. In fact, females not only outnumbered males two to one in the grade twelve class o f 1965, but later outnumbered them three to one as graduates. O f sixty-two grade twelves registered in June 1965, eighteen failed to graduate that year, notably, eleven or over half o f twenty-one males, and only seven o f forty-one females.  63  Subjects point out that going on to, and especially completing, a university undergraduate degree was rare i n the late 1960s and early 1970s. A s D i c k U l d o r f put it, "the transition from high school to university was basically catastrophic in that time frame." D i c k recalled that in 1968, out o f his graduating class o f approximately eighty students, only "about a dozen" individuals went on to university, most o f these to the University o f British Columbia. Out o f this number, only one completed a four-year university program "on track," without interruption. Five others, or almost half o f the high school graduates who went away i n 1968, failed to complete their first year. Factors mitigating against rural youth gaining access to post-secondary education are certainly not unique to the Laketown.  64  In the case o f Williams Lake, for almost three  decades, geographic and psychic distance from university towns and cities, the financial and psychological costs o f relocating to Vancouver, "the b i g smoke," and o f course, the omnipresent draw o f "green gold" at home, remained important obstacles blocking youths'  This ratio is derivedfromthe Williams Lake Secondary School Graduation 1965 Programme, Thursday, 9 September, 1965 as well as the Tribune. 15 September, 1965. 63  The American literature on rural youth and education is rich in this regard. Consult New Mexico State University, "Educational and Occupational Aspirations of Rural Youth: A Selected Topics Bibliography of ERIC documents" (Washington, National Institute of Education, 1977), ERIC, ED 153 772. While no systematic comparison with other contexts was undertaken, rural-urban differences among American youth exist in their high school dropout rates and postsecondary aspirations. See for instance, Ronald G. Downey, "Higher Education and Rural Youth" (Paper presented at the Annual Kansas State University Rural and Small School Conference, November 1980), ERIC, ED 201 459; in the 1960s, educational expectations of North Carolina youth rose while the "traditional variance" between rural and urban youth depreciated. Lawrence W. Drabick, "Some Longitudinal Perspectives on the Education Expectations of Rural Youth" (Memphis, Tennessee: Paper presented to the Rural Sociology Section of the Annual Meeting of the Southern Association of Agricultural Scientists, February, 1974), ERIC, ED 096 027. 64  103  route to post-secondary education. Individuals from families buoyed by good union-level wages often pointed to their families' inability to fund further education. Those Laketown youths who did manage to enter university actually compared themselves to their new peers, especially graduates from Lower Mainland high schools whom they saw as having more o f a "reality check" insofar as "they were a lot more aware o f what they needed to get through these places." Recognizing the special problems facing post-secondary students emanating from central and northern areas o f the province, including the financial costs associated with leaving one's community, three "educated cowboys" staged a rally i n downtown Williams Lake on 19 November, 1966. With the support o f the University o f British Columbia's A l m a Mater Society, Laketown boys D o n Wise and Doug Poelvarde led a Saturday "campaign" to force the issue o f equalization o f grants for students from communities such as Williams Lake as a subject i n a local by-election. Completing the trio was D a v i d Zirnhelt o f 150 M i l e House, the young man who a year and a half earlier had led senior students in cutting high school classes. Capped and robbed in university regalia, the three university students spent fifteen minutes on local radio. Later, they walked the streets handing out pamphlets and hammering up posters, led an hour and a half rally in front o f the local courthouse, and rode horseback up and down Oliver Street. A l o n g with dozens o f Laketown secondary students, they "mobbed" Social Credit headquarters. In the evening they toured drinking establishments. Ostensibly, the students received support o f "all sections o f society," including local school board and teachers. D o n Wise claimed, " E v e n the old boys in the bars support our drive."  'Cowboys trigger education issue," Tribune. 23 November 1966, 2.  65  Fig. 27. "Educated cowboys" bring higher education into the limelight." Photo is o f David Zirnhelt in downtown Williams Lake. Source: Tribune. 23 November 1966, 2.  A s other youth gained more spatial, temporal and fiscal autonomy in their lives, however, many appeared far less concerned with their secondary let alone their post-secondary schooling. These individuals were clearly distracted from the academic function o f the high school, or even from their primary goal, "to get grade twelve." Oral testimonies from the second generation suggest that morning after morning many youth entered the high school simply to socialize because "that's where all my friends were." Only in hindsight did some subjects, as adults, later understand the school not only as a social "centre for people," but as a site with the potential to enrich their lives as well as open rather than close doors to the vocational and professional aspirations they began to entertain only after the teen years.  105  Chapter 4 Learning to W o r k and Learning from Work: Unpaid and Casual Labour  A c c o r d i n g to B i l l y A l l e n a first generation subject, born, raised and retired i n W i l l i a m s Lake, by the 1940s few adolescents under age sixteen quit school clandestinely i n order to assist the family economy.  1  In the Laketown, B i l l y recalled, "The days o f having to leave  school to go and work because your family didn't have anything were in the thirties, the twenties and thirties."  2  Indeed, by 1951, overall school attendance i n this region was generally  better than i n most o f the prairie or Atlantic provinces, although admittedly poorer than i n Lower M a i n l a n d , Kamloops, Okanagan-Shuswap or Kootenay areas.  3  U n p a i d work, however, endured as a central feature i n the lives o f many adolescents i n  'For a discussion of child labour laws in British Columbia, see Neil Sutherland, '"We always had things to do': the Paid and Unpaid Work of Anglophone Children Between the 1920s and the 1960s," Labour/le Travail 25 (Spring 1990): 105141, especially, 108, adapted in Jean Barman, Neil Sutherland, and J. Donald Wilson, Children. Teachers & Schools in the History of British Columbia (Calgary: Detselig, 1995); Such legislation did not materialize without considerable struggle. See Lorna F. Hurl, "Overcoming the Inevitable: Restricting Child Factory Labour in Late Nineteenth-Century Ontario," in Labour/le Travail 21 (Spring): 87-121; as well as John Bullen, "Children of the Industrial Age: Children, Work and Welfare in Late Nineteenth-Century Ontario" (University of Ottawa unpublished dissertation, 1989). For examples of young people leaving school to support a family economy, in the early twentieth-century, see Jean Barman, "Reflections on the Role of the School in the Transition to Work in British Columbia Resource Towns, " in Barman et. al. Children. Teachers & Schools: and Rebecca Coulter, "The Working Young of Edmonton, 1921-1931," in Joy Parr, ed. Childhood and Family in Canadian History (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart Inc., 1982). This is not a novel observation. See Neil Sutherland, Growing U P . Childhood in English Canada From the Great War to the Age of Television (Vancouver. UBC Press, 1997), Chapter 5. 2  Enrollment for grades V through VIII is comparable between Cariboo and Kamloops areas: 1212 males/1260 females out of a total 2472 students (Cariboo); 1315 males/ 1315 females out of total 2630 students (Kamloops). However, Cariboo figures drop proportionately for grades DC to XU: 392 males/456 females out of 1268 total (Cariboo) compared to 596 males/699 females out of 1268 total (Kamloops). Census of Canada, General Population Characteristics. 1951. 60-11. In 1961, the percentage of 15 to 18 year-olds living at home while going to school was still lower in the Cariboo (68.7%) compared to those in Kamloops (78.8%) or the Okanagan-Shuswap (84.2%) Census Divisions. Census of Canada. 1961. V. 2.1. Table 55.  106 this area, particularly girls, and in the case o f out-of-town households, both boys and girls. Not all adolescents growing up in rural households after the Second World War were as economically-indispensable as those i n nineteenth-century Canada when children were considered "the source o f a farmer's wealth." Yet, teens from less affluent country or 4  Laketown households shouldered a heavier burden o f unpaid domestic labour than their more affluent peers. Despite the different context, the composite set o f chores performed by Laketown boys and girls are congruent with norms i n other Canadian communities. The working lives o f subjects o f the first generation as well as some o f those o f the second generation often echo those detailed for Vancouver i n the same period. The housework experiences o f girls, for 5  example, parallel those o f women i n the company town o f F l i n Flon, Manitoba, and the instant resource town o f Manitouwadge, Ontario, i n the 1960s and 1970s — although Laketown girls and women may have had comparatively more out-of-the-household employment opportunities in this developing regional services centre.  6  W e l l into the 1970s, a few subjects worked as  intensely at domestic tasks as their counterparts i n Evelyn, i n north-central British Columbia between 1920 and I960.  7  L i k e generations o f Canadian children (and their parents) before them, both sexes grew  Neil Sutherland, Children in English-Canadian Society: Framing the Twentieth-Century Consensus. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1976), 9. 4  ^Sutherland, '"We always had things to do.'" See Meg Luxton, More Than a Labour of Love: three generations of women's work in the home (Toronto: Women's Educational Press, 1980) as well as Margaret P. Nunn Bray, '"No Life For A Woman,': An Examination and Feminist Critique of the Post-WWII Instant Town with Special Reference to Manitouwadge" (unpublished MA thesis, Queen's, 1989). 6  Neil Sutherland, "T can't recall when I didn't help': The Working Lives of Pioneering Children in Twentieth-Century British Columbia," Histoire sociale/Social History 24 (November 1991). 7  107 up with the historical understanding that housework was girls' and women's work while boys' housework was limited and temporary even when it was inescapable.  8  From the 1940s through  the 1970s, adolescents i n this area grew up with a variety o f gendered unpaid tasks in and around the household, the family property, and i n the case o f Aboriginal children, the residential school. Aside from the effects o f technological advances i n labour-saving mechanization, the only aspect o f unpaid work to change significantly between the two generations o f adolescents is a general diminution o f unpaid domestic labour. Otherwise, there was little break i n the traditional pattern o f housework and its gendered spatial distribution: girls, more than boys, continued their "invisible" unpaid labour i n and around the household, sometimes into their late teens. Before and after the age o f fifteen that work kept girls more than boys geographically closer to the family home. A t the same time, boys' "housework" generally took them out o f the house and further afield. Aboriginal and Indo-Canadian 9  narratives indicate a similar division o f domestic labour at "the M i s s i o n " as well as among Indo-Canadian families i n the Laketown. Thus, variables o f gender, class, "race," ethnicity, type o f household (rural or non-rural) as well as parental dispositions toward work intertwined to determine the nature and intensity o f unpaid work. Informal labour around home and property not only instilled work skills, but influenced adolescent attitudes toward work, sometimes helped determine the work children would do as adults and so helped shape adult identities.  "Veronica Strong-Boag, The New Day Recalled: Lives of Girls and Women in English-Canada. 1919-1939 (Toronto: Copp Clark Pitman Limited, 1988), as well as Growing Up. Chap. 5. See for example, Elliott West, Growing up with the Country: Childhood on the Far Western Frontier (Albuquerque: State University of New Mexico, 1992) as well as Veronica Strong-Boag, "Growing up Female" in The New Dav Recalled. This feature of work continued into the 1970s in Flin Flon, Manitoba. See Luxton, More Than A Labour of Love. 9  108 First Generation Village Households W e l l before and well after the Second W o r l d War, economic necessity and an ideology o f gendered work generally meant girls in Williams Lake grew up closer to house and property than did their brothers. Wilme Ruth Baxter was born i n Williams Lake i n 1927 and raised with the "natural" expectation that certain kinds o f unpaid work were expected o f her as a girl and later as a woman. Washing dishes, sweeping and dustmopping floors were among the first tasks she learned to perform from a "very young age." "Helping out" i n the kitchen began with "easy things to do," such as peeling potatoes and carrots. B y 1939, housework had largely preempted play for twelve-year old Wilme. A t that age, she recalls, she was considered much more capable o f completing tasks then understood to constitute "woman's work." She became involved i n the more precarious task o f cooking on woodstoves: "I don't remember my mother allowing me to bake a cake until I probably got up to around twelve years o l d . " B y age fifteen, girls' unpaid labours could vary greatly depending upon family size. W i l m e came from a family o f five and "so there was more o f everything, there was more food to prepare, more cooking or cleaning, and more washing and ironing and actually the house would get messed up more because o f more people in it." W i l m e not only kept a part-time clerical job after school (which she qualified as unusal for a village girl at the time), but regularly washed floors, cleaned, and ironed, "a big j o b " i n the pre-polyester days when heavy irons were routinely applied to most articles o f clothing.  She also worked i n "dad's garden."  Sewing absorbed much o f her spare time. Although the Williams Lake school did not offer Home Economics until after the Second W o r l d War, her mother, "an excellent seamstress," taught her to sew at a young age: " B y the time I got into high school, I was making most o f my own clothing to go to school."  109 Village boys also worked in the household in the 1940s and early 1950s, but their work was o f different nature. M a l e subjects tend to be much more vague about the nature and extent of their "indoor" labour simply because, as a rule, they did less o f it than did their sisters. C h i e f among the duties o f B i l l y A l l e n , Wesley Smith and D a v i d Tomiyasi were outdoor tasks such as the chopping and splitting o f wood and "making kindlings" for the wood stoves, and weeding gardens. Otherwise, B i l l y A l l e n recalls, he would "just help with the chores around the home." Although most village houses obtained their water from a domestic water supply, hauling water was a common task i n the Cariboo where three-quarters o f all households were without running water, flush or chemical toilet.  10  Wesley and D a v i d each lived more than a  kilometre from the village and each faced the drudgery o f hauling water for household use, D a v i d from the local lake and Wesley from the Williams Lake Creek. Some Glendale households managed without running water or a well into the 1960s. W i l l i a m Sangha's father, for instance, drew water from the creek until the arrival o f his family i n Williams Lake i n 1960 at which point the family moved into a residence with piped water. Although D a v i d Tomiyasi's family owned and operated a motel less than two kilometres from the heart of the village, David's adolescent tasks were rather more consistent with those associated with rural life than a business. The family property permitted both a business and room for some domestic livestock. Thus, besides hauling water for the motel or helping his father "wire," or electrify the tourist cabins, D a v i d also fed and helped maintain quarters for a pig, cow, and chickens. Otherwise, D a v i d was hardly involved i n day-to-day  Of 10,975 households in 1951 in Division 8, 24% had hot and cold piped water, 8.4% had cold water only, while 68% were without any running water. 77% were without bath or shower, and 74.5% were without chemical orflushtoilet. It must be remembered that this total includes municipal households between Hazelton in the north-west and McBride in the north-east (including Prince George) south through Quesnel to Williams Lake. Canada Census of Canada. 1951. Housing. I0  110 housekeeping operations, even during the hectic summer season. Katie Jean Kurtz, on the other hand, worked a l l summer i n the family's autocourt business and had to endure the often "disgusting" job o f cleaning guest rooms frequented by hunters, fishers, and salespeople, The gendered division o f labour was not, however, a static feature o f family life. Such circumstances as a family crisis including illness, accidents, or death precipated change in a household's domestic labour patterns. The two young Lee brothers witnessed radical changes in sex-typed domestic labour when their grandmother fell i l l i n October o f 1943. This was "a severe b l o w " to the family. A t that point, Todd and E l d o n ' s step-father continued to care for the livestock and "other work he could do around the home ranch," but also began to assume more domestic tasks i n the household.  11  Cole Wolford remembers there was "more work than  play" after he was pressed into service as a ten-year old when his mother fell i l l on their rural property i n the mid-1930s. In this case, the father was often absent from the household and Cole, the oldest sibling, not only cut wood and packed water but out o f necessity, also had to cook. From the age o f ten, he "looked after my brothers and sisters quite a bit," and was sometimes responsible for them at night except when the family could afford "a hired girl." Until her death, Wesley Smith's mother cooked for a large family o f sons and daughters, but apparently not because her husband was incapable o f doing so. In fact, when Wesley's mother died, his father took over the key role i n the kitchen; i n Wesley's words: O h after M o m died, my old dad done most o f that. W e l l , sure, he cooked for haycrews, he could make bread or anything, pies . . . [T: " Y o u r sisters never did that?"]. N o , he done it. That guy could cook, boy. Better than a woman. H e ' d make that yeast bread,  "Published accounts of ranch life in the Cariboo usually focus upon adult hardships and exploits. For rare insights into work facing boys on a ranch in the thirties and forties, see Todd and Eldon Lee, From California to North 52 (Prince George: Caitlin Press, 1994), pp. 126-7. The sequel to this popular history of growing up on Sunnyside Ranch, located 30 miles south of Williams Lake, is far more detailed on the aspect of work. See Eldon and Todd Lee, Tall in the Saddle: Ranch Life in the Cariboo (Surrey: Heritage House Publishing, 1995).  Ill  all that stuff. He was a smart old guy [emphasis in original]. The volunteer work involved i n the construction o f War Memorial Arena beginning i n the summer o f 1948 reflected contemporary norms regarding the tasks expected o f men and boys and those assigned women and girls. Building the arena, once recognized as an "ambitious" i f "foolish" enterprise, soon galvanized the community. Although the project became a defining milestone i n the community's history, the local newspaper d i d not cover the whole story. A dozen or so local men led the project, but most o f the construction was done by volunteers including "professional men, tradesmen and merchants" who turned up to lend a hand.  12  Twenty years later in 1971, it was acknowledged the "ladies group" had assisted with  the fund-raising.  13  According to B i l l y A l l e n , however, virtually every hockey player in their  mid- to late-teens also pitched in alongside the men putting i n long hours after school and on weekends.  B i l l y remembered long hours spent on the community venture: "Helped for a  whole year, pounding spikes, packing lumber, and shovelling rocks and Christ knows what to get that arena built — 'course everybody i n town did that." Another hockey player, sixteenyear o l d Dusty Shaw, and his friend also worked at the site after school: "Everyone that wanted to do it could do it, 'cause we were told, the more we help, the sooner we get into that arena. That was the idea." E m i l y Potter and Camille Summerland recall putting in hours on the site, but along with other girls and women, they were assigned a function commensurate with their gender. During the construction phase, their task was to fuel the men and boys on the work site by selling food and refreshments. Once the arena was completed, Camille and other girls  As work neared completion, tributes were made to men but not women or youth. Williams Lake Tribune. 10 November 1949, 1. 12  For a retrospective look at its construction after two decades of operations, see "War Memorial Arena — job well done." Tribune. 19 May 1971. 13  112 continued to help women operate its food concession. First Generation Out-of-Town Households Before arriving i n Williams Lake i n 1948 and enrolling in the village school, fifteen year-old E m i l y Potter had spent a few years i n a family bush camp i n the Cariboo labouring alongside her mother and grandmother cooking and housekeeping for fifteen to twenty men. L i v i n g ten miles from the nearest school, unable to afford the cost o f boarding and schooling i n another community, and largely unsuccessful with correspondence courses, E m i l y focused her energies upon assisting the family economy: " W e learned to cook, we learned to make bread . . . make meals for men on sawdust burners." Ice had to be chopped i n the lake and melted on the stove. She helped wash the bunkhouse men's laundry "just to make a little bit" o f money for the household. Such experiences served as, as E m i l y put it, "a real education for us." The economic reality was that had E m i l y boarded i n another community to attend school, her parents "would have had to hire someone" to replace her i n the bush camp. Material necessity and not merely isolation from the nearest one-room school also explains why A x e l Vickers, born and raised near Riske Creek, never received any formal schooling throughout the 1930s and 1940s. While A x e l made appearances i n the school some Septembers, he recalls he did so only briefly and in order to bolster the registers and ensure the school's survival that year. Otherwise, he received a l l schooling from his parents, although school work was often squeezed into mornings when the family was not too busy with work. O n the one hand, A x e l explained, his parents had disliked the thought o f his boarding in Williams Lake in order to go to school. O n the other: "I think the main reason was just it was beyond their financial means and also they needed me home to work. I think that had more to do with it than anything." In contrast, Todd and Eldon Lee who grew up too far from any  113 established school, completed the primary through grade X I I grades through the province's Correspondence School Program (Todd from grade I and Eldon from grade II). Rather than relegating school work to odd bits o f time, the usual pattern o f work in their household was to devote a whole day and part o f an evening to a single subject, i n order to make up for time lost to working on the "home ranch." Both boys completed post-secondary schooling. Todd became a minister and probation officer, and E l d o n a physician.  14  Country boys such as A x e l Vickers, Evelyn M c L e o d ' s brother, or R a y Winters out at Horsefly began to help fathers on traplines from an early age i n order to supplement the family income. A l l three boys also ran their own small trapline. A x e l did so at age nine as he could set and check snares and skin animals independently. Invariably, the lucrative pelts generated household, and not personal, income for the boys who understood "trapping was a group effort to get money for the house." A t a time when British and Canadian children generally came to expect a "Friday" or "Saturday penny," a nickel, dime, or even all o f their earnings as their due in the "new childhood," a small portion o f the revenue from their personal trapline was allotted to the boys as disposable income.  15  Youth were sometimes frustrated by constant donations o f  time and labour to the family economy. In his mid-teens, A x e l began to wrestle with a sense o f obligation to his family and a personal need to strike out on his o w n .  16  Evelyn M c L e o d ' s work narratives illustrate how, at times, families concerned with  Lee, From California to North 52.108-9. Also see "School on the Range," in Tall in the Saddle.  14  After the Second World War, "many" working class families allowed their children to keep "some or all of their earnings." See Sutherland, "'We Always Had Work to To Do," 130, as well as Steve Humphries, et. al. A Century of Childhood (London: Sidgwick and Jackson in association with Channel Four Television, 1988), 30. 15  Generally, this was much more a point of contention among some immigrant youth. Following the homeland tradition, many Portuguese parents expected offspring to surrender earnings to parents at a time when most Canadian teens considered money they earned as theirs to keep. Antonio F. Arruda, "Growing up in Portuguese-Canadian Families: an oral history of adolescence in Vancouver, 1962-80" (UBC: unpublished M.A. thesis, 1992). 16  114 securing unpaid labour disregarded contemporary gender or chronological age boundaries regarding work. In 1947, Evelyn's parents spent months researching British Columbia communities i n order to uncover the ideal place to set up a business and raise a family, and finally targeted the proprietorship o f a promising highway hotel and dining room outside Williams Lake. The decision proved a watershed event in the lives o f ten year o l d Evelyn and her twelve year old brother. The entire family was soon consumed by the enterprise. The very "survival" o f the family demanded that "everybody worked": When we came up here, everything we had and every ounce we had as a family was poured into this business and it didn't seem to matter i f you were 8 years old, here's your chores and you just hang i n there and do them. I mean this is going to put food on the table and this is the way it goes. . . . Survival, you know, was uppermost. A n d I think the only way you can say is survival ~ I mean it was definitely uppermost, [emphasis i n original] While summer vacations from school often meant isolation from some friends and increased labours for girls and boys, i n this sample, few accounts o f domestic labour rival the intensity o f the task set before Evelyn M c L e o d and her brother. Katie Jean Kurtz, for example, recalled that work i n the family's autocourt occurred mostly in the summer as her parents did not want such work to impose upon school labours. For the two young McLeods, however, it seemed a l l they knew was work. "In the summertime," Evelyn recalls, " W e were totally devoted to work and had a huge g a r d e n . . . grew all the vegetables we served i n the dining room." While most rural children grew up accustomed to raising, slaughtering and processing some poultry or livestock, the M a c L e o d family had decided they would also grow a l l the fryers served i n their dining r o o m .  17  M u c h o f the preparation from feeding through slaughtering fell  to the pre-teen children. From the ages o f ten through twelve, Betty and her brother spent  See Neil Sutherland, "T can't recall when I didn't help'" in Barman, et. aj. Children. Teachers & Schools. 136.  115 every summer morning butchering twenty-five chickens in preparation for lunch: O h , I tell you, we sure learned about c h i c k e n s . . . . From the time you grabbed them, cut their heads off, hold their wings, dip them i n boiling water, strip their feathers off, gut them, wash them, cut them up and put them into the frying pan, it was quite a procedure. A n d you can't let them really beat their wings or kick around on the ground, you've got to hold them . . . we used to have a five gallon bleeding b u c k e t . . . w e ' d chop their heads off, and hold their wing tips and the feet and they would sort o f pump it — to make sure that all the blood went out o f them . . . The whole bloody "procedure" was then repeated after lunch i n preparation for supper!  18  This all-absorbing period in Evelyn's life-course was also a short one. Within two years o f its startup, the M c L e o d family was forced to give up their "hustle-bustle" roadside business. This proved another watershed event in their family life — an emotional and financial upheaval for her parents, but almost absolute respite from constant work for the younger McLeods: "It was a total change from being r e g i m e n t e d . . . from total r e s p o n s i b i l i t y . . . . and Grandma fed the dog! [emphasis in original]." Suddenly Evelyn had more disposable time and she began to socialize with peers and pursue avenues o f personal interest. Girls on the "home ranch" performed household duties demanded o f village girls as well as those normally associated with rural life. They cared for livestock, milked cows, processed milk into various products such as buttermilk or cottage cheese and helped with the haying ~ in other words, unlike their brothers, they often had indoor and outdoor tasks. When the variable o f class is taken into account, however, girls growing up in the 1940s on large prosperous ranches faced far less domestic labour than the average ranch girl. Harriet Wilson and Camille Summerland, for example, both grew up with a cook and hired ranchhands. Both boarded with Williams Lake families throughout most o f the year in order to go to school and both did very little housework aside from keeping their rooms in order. Both spent summers  'Photograph with inscription in Evelyn McLeod's possession. The family raised the chicks in lots of roughly 500.  116 out on their ranches. Although Harriet's ranch remained without running water or electricity throughout her childhood and adolescence, her summer-time tasks nonetheless differed significantly from those of Evelyn MacLeod. She performed few kitchen tasks, had no younger siblings to mind and spent much of her school vacations out-of-doors. With paid help to do much of the labour, Harriett's "work" merged pleasureably with leisure.  Summer work  consisted mostly of range riding ("a lot of riding, that was the main thing") and sometimes, helping out in branding or cattle drives ("It was sort of work and fun too"). Second generation Town Households With notable exceptions, second generation "town" subjects faced less domestic labour than the first generation. Mike Edson, for example, kept his room clean, took out the garbage, "helped out" in the garden and learned to cook a few basic meals for himself especially after his mother began to work outside the house. Neither Steve Teller nor his sister (a year younger) performed more than a modicum of work in the household in their teens: "We did chores, all of us as kids — probably we were all pretty slack about them." Their mother who was employed outside the house part-time was also the "homemaker" in their family. Similarly, Cindy McEwan and her younger sister performed few onerous domestic tasks. Cindy was heavily involved in extra-curricular sports throughout high school which perhaps kept her from some after-school household work. The McEwan sisters were spared much of that drudgery by their mother; consequently, "we didn't have a lot of household chores that we really had to do." They "helped with the dishes," and "occasionally" the laundry while avoiding dusting and vacuuming altogether. Neither girl, however, escaped girlhood's traditional unpaid task, childminding. This diminution of domestic labour aside, baby-boomers such as Myles Osborne, Bob  117 Riley, Steve Teller, and M i k e Edson confirmed the pattern o f gendered domestic labour evident in the first generation was manifest in their o w n households two decades later. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, "household" tasks still tended to take males outside the house itself. M y l e s Osborne recalls his mother performed indoor tasks: " A s far as the house-cleaning and that sort o f thing, Mother used to do a l l t h a t . . . o f course we cut the grass." B o b R i l e y ' s chores in the late 1960s and early 1970s usually took h i m out-of-doors: " W e always had to haul our wood. When it was time to get wood for winter, we all went and got wood." Howard Underwood had grown up on acreage and learned to love, in his words, "outside (emphasis in original)" and not "inside" work from a young age. A t the tender age o f six, "It was my job to unload a whole pickup o f sawdust for the burner, put it in the shed, with a s h o v e l . . . that's how you survived, that was part o f i t . . . that ranch toughness." In a few families, work appeared to be distributed more equitably among siblings. C a l R e i d , for example, washed the dishes, folded clothes, scrubbed and waxed floors and helped with the cooking. He claimed he was an early riser and at age ten or so enjoyed helping his mother with breakfast before anyone else had risen. D i c k U l d o r f grew up socialized to work, "to do a lot o f the work when we were kids even when we were seven, eight years o l d . . . make your bed, do the dishes." A t the age o f nine, his family moved from town out to L i k e l y where his father worked i n forestry operations. The move to a rural setting prompted new expectations o f D i c k , for example, that he pack water when the waterline froze, be able to start a Coleman lantern or light a fire. A s he recalls there was little gender discrimination in the "well-structured" assignment o f tasks when the family returned to Williams Lake less than two years later. Brothers and sisters worked their big garden on a large property on the outskirts o f town. Beside mowing a "good-sized lawn" they tackled a large garden on hot Cariboo days:  118 " W e had to weed that son-of-a-bitch . . . it was 150 feet by 50 feet. Three o f us would be out there at that time." A s i n the 1940s and 1950s, unfortunate family circumstances intensified, even reconfigured, the responsibility girls and boys had to their family. Between the ages o f fifteen and seventeen, Wendy Lorimer lived i n Williams Lake with her father and younger brother. Her adolescence i n the Laketown revolved around two basic pre-occupations: school labours and work in a household without a mother. Her father, a shiftworker in a local m i l l , took care o f the laundry and grocery shopping on weekends while Wendy did "most" o f the cooking, house-cleaning and childcare. Her father's afternoon shifts (four p.m. to midnight) were a particularly onerous and lonely time for her because he permitted little socializing.  She  remained "basically responsible" for her brother who was four years younger, feeding him and seeing h i m dressed and off to school. Wendy reflected woefully upon those teen years spent i n surrogate motherhood: "I d i d feel i n a sense that I was like a mother." A family crisis could thrust boys into non-typical roles in the family forcing upon them longer hours and a greater variety o f tasks than those facing many o f their female peers. The deaths o f both parents in 1963 left thirteen year old M y l e s Osborne and his two older siblings to shoulder a far greater share o f ranch and household duties. That summer, the trio carried out the usual ranch work, haying, cattle herding, cutting fence posts and rails, opening and closing irrigation ditches on a daily basis. A n adult male relative stayed with the trio lessening the responsibility, but it was the eldest, an eighteen year old brother, and not a sister i n her m i d teens, who did most o f the food preparation. A serious head injury i n 1968 left the father o f ten-year o l d W i l l i a m Sangha permanently brain-damaged and with the "mental faculties o f a six-year o l d . " The tragedy interrupted traditional work rhythms i n the family, transforming the  119 identities and outlooks o f both mother and children. W i l l i a m ' s mother began full-time work outside the household, at that time an act unprecedented in the Indo-Canadian community. W i l l i a m ' s sense o f responsibility to the family sharpened considerably. U n t i l W i l l i a m left the Laketown for university, he devoted most o f his after-school time feeding and caring for his father, and a sister six years his junior whenever his mother worked the night-shift. Second generation Out-of-Town Households In the 1960s and 1970s, ranch work still revolved around the seasons absorbing the whole family, even determining their leisure time.  19  Pete Anderson and his three brothers  grew up on a ranch about fifteen kilometres from Williams Lake. Throughout the year, the family worked a six-day week on ranch tasks, although milking was a twice-daily affair and mother's "kitchen work" a thrice-daily or more chore.  Sundays were "basically the family  day." From spring to November, the Anderson's cattle fended for themselves. In anticipation o f a hectic haying season, the last two weeks o f June and first two weeks o f July were usually relegated to whatever vacation time the family could muster together. Typically, their vehicle would be loaded up with picnic basket and fishing rods and the family would sojourn to a Cariboo "pond" to fish or to their lakeside cabin to waterski. Once haying began (sometime i n mid-July through August or even later) ranching transformed into "a seven day a week job." The work load lightened through October and part o f November, but with the onset o f winter and snow the cattle had to be fed through till spring thaw and "it was back to a seven-day week."  The boys helped haul hay from distant meadows back to the barn, enduring minus  thirty and forty below zero degrees weather on the back o f the wagon, putting their backs to the wind while "dad would be out there i n an open tractor."  Eldon Lee details the seasonal rhythms of ranch work, See From California to North 52. 88.  19  120 That sort o f ranch experience, broadly delineated, permeated the rural-urban boundary throughout the historical period and remains an integral part o f many Laketown youths' memories. In other words, regardless o f their future i n either a m i l l , local business, or i n a profession, there was a good chance a Laketown youth (boys moreso than girls) grew up with a personal experience o f ranching and some "feel" o f the Cariboo-Chilcotin as a "western" region. T o m Denny, a well-known local resident born in 1928, began work out on ranches during summer holidays at age thirteen, eventually becoming a full-time cowboy.  20  Wesley  Smith, his brothers, and their father all hired out as ranch hands at various ranches for entire summers throughout the 1940s. B y the mid-1970s, a significant number o f Laketown subjects had developed more than a fleeting relationship with ranching. O f course, many o f them, like B o b Riley, M i k e Edson, Randy Aston, M a x Pritchard or W i l l i a m Sangha, or girls such as Wendy Lorimar, Lynn Blacksmith, Cindy M c E w a n and Sandy Butchart seldom i f ever visited a ranch, much less worked on one. Nonetheless, seven, or almost a third o f the second generation subjects were well-acquainted with ranch life. Four, including Raylene Erickson, had grown up on a ranch while three others had worked on a ranch, or customarily visited and helped out at a friend's ranch on weekends or summer vacations. In D i c k U l d o r f s household, the whole family went out to the Tatlayoko Valley in the West Chilcotin to "make hay" at a ranch belonging to friends o f the family. A few girls visited a friend's ranch on a school weekend or during a vacation period, but on the whole, women in this Laketown sample experienced less sustained contact with ranches. Boys moreso than girls tended to spend weeks or an entire summer vacation working out at a ranch. From the age o f thirteen to sixteen, for example, Howard Underwood  Upon his death, the local paper reviewed his life. Tribune. 3 August 1995, B3.  20  121 worked for wages at a ranch owned by a family friend. H i s brother worked at another ranch throughout his teens. C a l R e i d estimated "thirty, forty percent" o f the males his age who had grown up i n W i l l i a m s Lake had experienced ranch life and purportedly, " A lot o f the kids that grew up i n the city [Williams Lake] ended up being cowboys." In the 1960s and 1970s, some adolescents on rural properties bordering the Laketown had much i n common with youth on distant ranches as far as unpaid labour was concerned. (In fact, country youth boarding i n town and enrolled i n the town's secondary schools often escaped farm labour at least on weekdays). Brenda Langford noted her family's move from a town lot to a larger property just outside the Laketown resulted in a l l siblings assuming a share o f chores associated with having a big garden, and maintaining horses, pigs, cows, goats, chickens and rabbits.  Even after Raylene Erickson and her sisters moved from their ranch to a  rural property twenty minutes from Williams Lake, there was work. " E a c h k i d had to weed a couple rows every night" i n a "big garden." Canning relishes and carrots as well as Okanagan fruit such as peaches, pears and cherries remained an annual "big thing" for this family o f girls. Lacking sons, her father pressed the girls into service constructing a huge barn on the property for a "new business venture," a chicken farm: "We're going to go chickens, right?" For a year or two, every night after school until suppertime, the sisters spelled off their mother who had been working all day processing eggs.  The eggs laid by 10,000 chickens had to be washed in  big laundry tubs, dried on racks, waxed and candled. M e n i n this generation who acknowledged a gendered division o f labour i n their teens usually did so briefly, unlike a few women who recall it more precisely, vividly, even bitterly. One o f Joseph St. Michelle's pastimes on his Soda Creek reserve, netting Fraser River salmon with male relatives o f all ages, was an enjoyable activity blending work, play, and  122  socialization. Mamie Williams,fromthe same reserve, today shudders at the thought that she, along with other females, ended up cleaning hundreds of those fish: "tons offish— oh my God! ..." Lynn Blacksmith grew up as the eldest daughter in a family of more than a dozen children on a large rural property outside the town. Unable to rely upon her alcoholic, oftenabsent husband Lynn's mother became increasingly self-reliant, whether managing the garden, fixing the old gas-powered wringer washer, or repairing the engine or body on their old vehicle. But she also had assistance. In fact, most domestic toil fell upon the two eldest females in the household. As Lynn recalled, "It just seemed to be me and mom ... if mom didn't do it, I did it and if I didn't do it, mom did it." From the age of about nine, Lynn fed a few livestock on their acreage, worked in the garden, washed, hung and folded laundry, cut and brought in wood and began to undertake cooking. Meanwhile, two older teenage brothers lived with the family doing "basically nothing," but "tinkering with this and that" although they helped with the chore of securing firewood. In 1973, a constellation of domestic responsibilities, including dinner preparation and child-minding, could still fall "naturally" upon an eldest daughter when a mother took up paid employment outside the house. While Mike Edson learned to cook "a few things" for himself and his brother when his mother began to work outside the home, he admitted he never did gain "much of a repertoire." In contrast, Lynn Blacksmith's domestic labour intensified when she graduated from high school. Driven to escape poverty, her mother undertook two full-time jobs outside the household. At age seventeen, Lynn inherited virtual control over the household and younger siblings. Necessity demanded that she become as self-reliant as her mother who "had to be everything." Although her siblings screamed incessantly that she was "not their mother," Lynn had unquestionably stepped into motherwort She rose early each  123 morning to get the fire going ("We had a wood stove all my life at home"), in order to bake twelve to fifteen loaves o f bread every other day. Lunches had to be prepared and laundry done on the o l d gas-fired washing machine. Finally, she meted out physical punishment freely whenever she felt it was warranted. Her own marriage at the age o f twenty-one ended this phase in her lifecourse. Another girl, this one with two working parents, also grew up with a similar set o f chores. Sandy Butchart's family moved between several residences in and around the Laketown. O n one rural property, Sandy and her younger sisters stoked the woodstove, the only heat supply, hauled wood, and emptied the toilet: " O f course, 'cause we were girls, that was just our chore." Sandy not only looked after siblings but found herself catering to a constant stream o f visiting relatives who were "always, always at our house, always." Spouses and kids would come over and then "they would go play cards while my sister and I would be still there doing, trudging away trying to clean dishes and pots and pans — ooh, it was awful!" She was swamped with work including dishes, the laundry, the beds, and housework in general: " M o m did nothing, we did it a l l . " When Sandy graduated grade twelve (with good grades), she too found herself isolated on a rural property as housekeeper and surrogate mother. Unlike Lynn, within months, Sandy decided to move into the Laketown where she began to live independently. The Meaning o f Their Work In this region, the economic, geographic and economic constraints o f the 1930s persisted through the 1940s forcing families in and particularly outside Williams Lake to mollify any idealized notions o f sacralized middle-class North American childhood. If legislation kept most adolescents under age sixteen from full-time year-round employment,  124 separating them from the labour pool and rendering them as "economically-useless," labour laws did not reach into the household to regulate the intensity and extent o f a son or daughter's unpaid domestic labour.  21  From the 1940s through 1975, families demanded at least some  unpaid labour o f both sons and daughters. Some young homemakers proved themselves indispensable to the family economy. Outside Williams Lake, families that ranched, farmed, or relied upon hunting and fishing for their food supply, were especially dependent upon the unpaid labour o f their children. Youth from such households grew up as had generations o f rural children and youth before them i n the sense they were fashioned by work, that "toughness," and they were also able to make much more than "the vaguest connection between the milk on the table and the cow that produced it on some distant farm." Some youth's unpaid labour, aside from its educative value i n honing work skills and a positive work ethic, proved economically invaluable to a family unable to afford necessary hired help. Before they gained an adult's physical strength and stamina, the energy some young people directed to a home without a mother, a chicken farm or a ranch clearly reduced the number o f hired hands required to run it. The boundary dividing children's work from that o f teens, and the work o f teens from that o f adults, was sometimes an obscure one even i f the task was arduous or potentially dangerous. In the late 1930s most indoor tasks such as cooking, cleaning, childminding and starting stoves were encoded as work for females aged twelve or older. In the 1960s or early 1970s, at age "thirteen, fourteen," a boy like M y l e s Osborne typically "would have been able to do everything" on a ranch that a man could do including operating all its machinery as well as driving cars or trucks over miles o f Cariboo-Chilcotin backroads. A t this time, children aged  See Zelizer, Pricing the Priceless Child.  125 ten and under frequently operated a tractor although not without some tragic consequences such as when nine year o l d Dennis Patenaude was crushed by a tractor he was riding while assisting his father.  22  Ranching families like the Osbornes began upgrading ranch machinery  as it became available i n early to mid-1960s. Teens aged thirteen or fourteen were commonly restrained by parents from operating the most dangerous ones, for example, a chainsaw, a "wicked thing," especially i f one "didn't have the actual physical strength" to handle it. Across the region, youth's unpaid labour remained differentiated by gender and from an early age began to configure about a pattern socially determined by social class, cultural expectations, as w e l l as prevailing norms regarding gender and w o r k .  23  I f family affluence  freed Harriett W i l s o n from household drudgery, her gender kept her from other tasks. She assisted with ranch tasks such as livestock tallies or vaccinating, but not others, for example, roping. In the eyes o f her son, A x e l Vickers' mother was "quite capable" of, and occasionally did carry out such tasks as feeding horses or getting i n the wood or packing water on their isolated homestead. Yet without a word being uttered, aside from helping i n the hayfields, she usually left these tasks to her husband and son i n order to do the cooking and look after the house. Such social boundaries governing gendered work were not fixed. Material necessity and watershed events in the lives o f families in and around the Laketown reconstrued family dynamics including the work patterns o f children and adolescents. Out o f necessity, Lynn Blacksmith and her mother learned and assumed all types o f work on their property, and as a  "Boy Dies While Helping his Dad," Williams Lake Tribune. 11 August 1965, 1,3.  22  For the historical and sociological debates and case studies of sex-typing of jobs, the allocation of specific tasks to men and to women, see Harriet Bradley, Men's Work. Women's Work: A Sociological History of the Sexual Division of Labour in Employment (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1989). 23  126 seventeen year old, Lynn inherited more domestic duties than most traditional "mothers" when her mother became the sole breadwinner. Boys like Cole Wolford and W i l l i a m Sundhu also assumed new and non-typical roles within the household because o f parental absence or incapacity. A noteworthy feature i n the narratives o f unpaid work is the singular way i n which some outdoor work is romanticized.  Joseph St. Michelle's view o f fishing, and Pete  Anderson, C a l Reid, Howard Underwood, M y l e s Osborne, and even Harriett W i l s o n ' s adult views o f the ranch work they usually performed as teens contrast with those seen in M a m i e W i l l i a m s ' memories o f fish processing, i n Evelyn M c L e o d recollections o f the chicken butcher, or A x e l V i c k e r ' s view that hard work was performed on the family homestead only out o f necessity and not "for work's sake." Unlike the bulk o f narratives encountered i n Settlers' C h i l d r e n  24  second generation male subjects remember their ranch work as strenuous,  but also often as "fun," a sentiment likely reflecting the gendered spatial distribution o f boys' work (out-of-doors) and girls' work (both i n - and out-of-doors).  25  Outdoor work was unavoidable on a ranch and much o f it hardly pleasurable, but unlike women's reminescences o f domestic chores, those o f ranch work i n the teen years conjured up images o f pastoral and friendly competition among males. C a l R e i d was contracted out to a friend's ranch one summer. H e recalls baking "out there on the flats" under a hot sun: "It was  Elizabeth Hampsten, Settlers' Children: Growing Up on the Great Plains (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1991). 24  Elliott West notes this tendency but is not too critical on the point. See his Growing Up with the Country: Childhood on the Far Western Frontier (Alburquerque: State University of New Mexico, 1989). Like other social norms, distinctions between boys and girls work have blurred over the centuries. For insights in the astonishing array of field tasks assigned farm girls, particularly roving gangs of girls, see Raphael Samuel, ed. Village Life and Labour (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975). For a more theoretical historical and sociological approach to the division of labour, see Harriet Bradley, Men's Work Women's Work. 25  127 120 degrees out there . . . I mean you couldn't stand it in the hay stack with rubber boots on. It was just too h o t . . . that wasn't fun." A n d yet, he rationalizes, at the time, most ranch chores were internalized as "something you had to do . . . so why whine and whimper and complain about it, just go and do i t . . . same with the haying: we're laughing and j o k i n g while we're out there throwing hay." C a l Reid remembers work was more bearable when it was transformed into a game: I remember the one time we got up early i n the m o r n i n g . . . still dark outside and we were trying to find the stupid bales in the dark, and we were joking about it. Someone ran back to get a flashlight and then the sun would come up and there's three or four bales that w e ' d forgotten and I mean, w e ' d have a race over to the stupid things, pick them up and run them back to the stupid sleigh — we wouldn't drive the tractor over — it might be a 100 yards away . . . the younger ones would grab one bale and the bigger guys would probably grab two and w e ' d race. A n d a l l I wanted to do was beat one o f them big bastards! There were always trees to buck, fence posts and rails to cut, and long hot days o f haying, recalled M y l e s Osborne, whose family still used horses and slips into the early 1960s. But even i n haying season, there were sometimes breaks for a teen: "I remember my mother saying, " K i d s go out and have some fun." Often the siblings would gallop off on their horses, sometimes out to the cliffs towering high over the Fraser River where they rolled boulders into the water well over a hundred metres below. O f course, there was also the roundup which they viewed as adventure: "Bringing cattle i n from the open range, that [meant] out riding horses and herding cattle from early morning till sometimes well after dark." Furthermore, the Osborne siblings were often allowed to invite a friend from town on weekends, "but only one," to ensure that the work also got done. Norman Flit remembers more horseback riding and fishing than work on such visits to the ranch owned and operated by his Aboriginal relatives: "I was thirteen, fourteen, and we used to help once in a while, but it wasn't anything really  128  important if I did or not. I could be who I wanted to be." As these teens grew into and through adolescence they were initiated into different tasks and given greater responsibilities. They continuously sought the approval of older adolescents and adults and derived great satisfaction when they achieved a sense of belonging. Most female subjects were silent on this point. Myles Osborne remembers the pride of promotion to a new task by men: "I felt pretty important when I was big enough to be what was called the 'trip man' when the loads of hay would go up in the slings and onto the loose haystacks." Cal Reid, born and raised in the laketown, recalls the feeling of working out on a ranch alongside the men: "There were fathers, there was older brothers. You were part of the men, you were part of the group . . . you were working alongside men. It was almost like saying, 'I'm a man.'" A few subjects of both generations recalled conflict also occurred when working too closely with relatives, particularly parents or siblings. Emily Potter enjoyed an easy intimacy with her grandmother, her confidante, in the kitchen of the lumber camp. In contrast, her relationship with her mother was cast as a cooler, less intimate one, much of it determined by daily routines and tasks. This latter sort of relationship seemed pronounced among some male subjects who argued with fathers or brothers over the best way to tackle a task. It was true of Myles Osborne and his older brother on their ranch. Max Pritchard who normally derived "a sense of accomplishment" constructing, "building," or "creating" things, "sometimes" had to tread carefully if a project involved his father: "He was very impatient and demanding and [you] felt like you had to be very careful around him." Howard Underwood's case illustrates one centuries-old advantage of the apprenticeship system, having someone less familiar than a father directing labour. Howard often worked alongside his father on the family property.  129 Conflicts often arose over how work should be done and he hated being called upon to work for his father: " W e ' d bait each other something terrible . . . it did create some friction, some sparks at times." Howard recalled that he never hesitated to help out a neighbour, but, he said, "Dad would ask y o u to help and y o u ' d just as soon tell h i m to . . . "  "History," a senior professor once reminded me, "is not only about the past, it's about the present too." Subjects' unpaid household labour throughout the childhood and adolescent years, as social practice, fashioned work skills and dispositions toward work and helped reproduce gendered notions o f work often held into adulthood. Thus their unpaid and casual labour also helped shape their adult identities. D a v i d Tomiyasi's life-long interest i n electricity began i n the early 1950s when i n his early teens he helped his father " w i r e " cabins at their lakeside motel i n the early 1950s. Twenty years later, B o b Riley fell i n love with motors i n the company o f older brothers and his father who were car enthusiasts. B o b still loves mechanics: "I like to wrench, built my first motor before I was o l d enough to drive." Lynn Blacksmith left motherwork in her mother's house in order to marry and bear children o f her own. She never worked outside the household. Given the small sample size, it is difficult to test the observation that women's reminiscences, as "texts," configure about their relationships while those o f men revolve around their individualism.  26  Evelyn M c L e o d cast two years o f her past within a framework o f  family and obligations to family, and punctuated her account o f endless work with the justification that the labour o f all members o f the family unit had been vital to her family's economy i n the late 1940s. In fact, Evelyn i n turn pressed many o f what she herself termed  'Sutherland, Growing U p . 6.  130 "survival" skills learned at home upon her own children, expressly out o f the conscious need to do so i n order to mitigate against unforeseen economic hardships. N o matter what befell her children in their lifetime, she thought they would always, i f necessary, be able to live off the land. Some males, especially those o f the first generation, did cast their reminiscences o f domestic labour within a collectivist framework o f family necessity. Evelyn's contemporary, A x e l Vickers, articulated he had been motivated to work by a deep sense o f "individual responsibility" to the family around Riske Creek in the 1930s and 1940s — i n fact, that is largely what kept him tethered to the household throughout his teens. In A x e l ' s case, however, the often solitary nature o f his tasks fashioned, he thinks, an "attitude" whereby he became, ironically, "a very poor team player" both within the family, and later as an adult in the work force and the military contexts where co-operation is essential.  A second generation subject,  Logan Lassiter, also emphasized that only through the labour o f each member had his family eked out a living on the ranch. While Logan clearly enjoyed life on his o w n rural property, he has reflected deeply upon his parents' fortitude and their "huge struggle" to keep ranch and livestock alive some winters. Inflicting the long list o f chores he endured upon his o w n children was far from Logan's mind. If the antecedents o f learning to labour lie i n childhood and adolescence, ingrained work habits and attitudes are sometimes difficult for adults to break. Near the end o f his interview, second generation subject, Pete Anderson, reconsidered how much "fun" work had actually been.  Ranch chores, Pete emphasized, had clearly been preferable to tackling his  homework: " W e enjoyed our chores." B y his late teens, however, Pete had tired o f the endless labour and "didn't want to have anything to do with the farm." H e attempted a term o f post-  131 secondary schooling but grew homesick and turned to sawmill work " i n town" for several years. A n d then he trudged back to the home ranch: "The farm was i n your blood. I mean I had to come back to it." Work with his hands, he explained, "creating" something he could see, taking pleasure i n a job well-done, was something that was vital to h i m to this day: "It's actually very important to my life. Working with your hands is very important."  27  Reflecting upon how his mother held a part-time job and did all o f the housework i n the early 1970s, Steve Teller explained, "I never really regarded it as sexist to say it was women's work . . . it's just that my dad worked fulltime and my mom worked part-time . . . and I like to see a mother be a mother, I think." Steve admitted he was sometimes caught i n a "struggle" with his wife over such housework as laundry but rationalized the debate. H e worked " fulltime" and focused upon other tasks which he felt also contributed to the household: " W h e n the truck breaks down, who rebuilds the motor?" There is little question o f whether the pleasure Steve, a car buff, gained i n rebuilding a motor out i n the garage is comparable to that his wife derived from doing the laundry. The Tellers' quandary illustrates that despite claims to the contrary, the extant and inequitable division o f unpaid work endures as social practice, modelling gendered unpaid work for yet another generation.  For a poignant look at the intellectual conflict in workers' minds over the nature and status of working with the "head" versus working with the "hands", see the classic study of the meaning of "blue-collar" work, Richard Sennett and Jonathan Cobb, The Hidden Injuries of Class (New York: Vintage Books, 1973). 2  132  Chapter 5 Friends and Cliques  Many twentieth-century parents discovered to their dismay that no matter how much they loved or otherwise provided for their children, they could not fulfill their teenaged offsprings' deep-seated need for personal exploration, self-knowledge and experimentation. As children became teenagers, establishing and maintaining friendships and gaining acceptance of peers sometimes began to appear more important than sustaining older bonds with a parent or other family members. As Edward Shorter put it, modern adolescence came to be distinguished, at least in part, by an emerging "indifference" to the family's identity.  1  This chapter examines adolescent friendship patterns and cliques in and around the Laketown after the Second World War while recognizing some limitations in this sort of study. To begin with, the details of cliques or "friendship circles" are historically specific to 2  'Edward Shorter, The Making of the Modern Family (New York: Basic Books, 1975), 269. Interest in the history of the family was stimulated by Philippe Aries, Centuries of Childhood: A Social History of Family Life 1L'Enfant et la vie familiae sous l'ancien regime!, trans. Robert Baldick (New York, Basic Books, 1962). The centrality of the family in North American children's lives is portrayed in Neil Sutherland, Growing Up: Childhood in English Canada from the Great War to the Age of Television (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997), especially Chapters 3 and 4; Cynthia Comacchio, The Infinite Bonds of Family: Domesticity in Canada, 1850-1940 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1999); Mona Gleason, Normalizing the Ideal: Psychology. Schooling, and the Family in Postwar Canada (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1999), and outlined in Tamara Harevan, "The History of the Family and the Complexity of Social Change," American Historical Review 96 (February 1991). A useful macroscopic view of the changing structure and function of Canadian families as well as evolving issues is Margrit Eichler, Families in Canada Todav: Recent Changes and Their Policy Consequences (Toronto: Gage, 1988). The Norman-Harris Report of 1981 which polled 160,000 American teens describes cliques as "a continuum of teenage clustering that often emerges from their activities." A "group" becomes a clique when it begins to assume an "aura of exclusiveness." Jane Norman and Myron Harris, The Private Life of the American Teenager (New York: Rawson, Wade Publishers, Inc., 1981), 163. A comparable Canadian report accentuating the centrality of friendships in adolescence is Reginald W. Bibby and Donald C. Postersky, The Emerging Generation: An Inside Look at Canada's Teenagers (Toronto: Irwin Publishing, 1985). This Project Teen Canada study is based on questionaires distributed in 1984 to 3,600 youths aged 15-19, most of these in 150 secondary schools across Canada. Adolescent friendships including cliques are examined 2  133 time and place. For example, a conspicuous group o f youth i n Williams Lake i n the 1950s, the "dorm kids," had no parallel in Elmtown, U S A .  3  A n d cliques are dynamic. A s James S.  Coleman illustrated i n considerable detail, determinants o f status among adolescent groups vary considerably between high schools o f a single state. In one school, higher status groups o f youth tend to be correlated with affluent family background more than any other variable; i n another, scholastic achievement is the most important factor; in a third, it is athletic ability that got an individual into the "leading crowd." The "social climate" and cliques may differ 4  markedly even within two high schools i n one district o f a single town. Finally, factors 5  influencing group dynamics i n one context may become less significant i n other contexts where new hierarchies o f dominance may be established based on new criteria. Ethnographic studies o f both males and females indicate that factors such as intelligence, creativity, and spirit, may i n the case o f summer camps, replace physical dominance, physical attractiveness or popularity with the opposite sex as correlates o f high group status.  6  A second limitation is posed by subjects' own narratives which permitted, at best,  inRolf E. Mauss, Adolescent Behaviour and Society (New York: Random House, 1970), 181, 182, passim; Phillip F. Rice, 2nd ed., The Adolescent: Development. Relationships, and Culture (Boston: Alyn and Bacon, [1975] 1978; and Robert E. Grinder, Adolescence (New York: John Wiley & Sons, 1973), 245-49, passim. The term "clique" is also associated with ethnic, racial, disadvantaged or more violent "underclass" groups of youth. See John M. Hagedorn, People and Folks: Gangs. Crime and the Underclass in a Rustbelt Citv Chicago: Lakeview Press, 1988), ERIC, ED 400 356; and "The Danger of Cliques," lime 153, 17(3 May 1999). August B. Hollingshead, Elmtown's Youth (New York: John Riley & Sons, 1949).  3  James S. Coleman, The Adolescent Society: The Social Life of the Teenager and Its Impact on Education (New York: Free Press, 1961), 81,89, passim. 4  Gerald R. Smith and Thomas B. Gregory, "Major Contrasts in the Social Climates of Two High Schools in the Same Town," Paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the American Educational Research Association, (Washington, D . C , 20-24 April, 1987) ERIC, ED 280195. 5  Roberta L. Paikoff and Ritch C. Savin-Williams, "An Exploratory Study of Dominance Interactions Among Adolescent Females at a Summer Camp," Journal of Youth and Adolescence 12, 5 (1983): 419; Ritch C. Savin-Williams, "Dominance Hierarchies in Groups of Middle to Late Adolescent Males," Journal of Youth and Adolescence 9,1 (1980): 75-84. 6  134 glimpses into the private dimensions o f young people's friendships. Understandably, few subjects cared to share the deeper strains o f friendships o f the sort we gain from " T o m , " an eighteen year old American male who professed, "Misfits value their friends more: they invest a lot more i n them because they can't have a lot o f little acquaintances (like me, when I was fat and had a bad weight problem). Misfits have fewer but better friends." Thus, this joint 7  narrative delineates groupings o f youth i n the Laketown. It tends to accentuate inter-group differences, and among the second generation, conflict, while failing, unfortunately, to capture fully the quality o f friendships, or the loneliness felt by a "no-fitter" consigned yet again to another weekend evening at home with her parents and young siblings. Two superficial pictures o f youth i n and around the Laketown emerge from the oral narratives. First generation subjects generally compose one picture o f uncomplicated homogeneity i n the first decade after the Second W o r l d War while second generation subjects strike another o f a fractured youth culture i n the early 1970s. Closer scrutiny o f the first picture, however, reveals youth were not immune to the social cleavages that i n different places, times and to varying degrees were tempered by variables such as "race," ethnicity, gender, social class, parental control, individual interests, and geographic proximity to cohorts. That sort o f diversity was definitely present by the mid-1960s, at least according to 8  second generation subjects. In fact, this joint narrative may overstate the exclusivity o f teenage cliques especially by the early 1970s. In my effort to generalize about friendship formation, I  'Norman and Harris, The Private Life of the American Teenager. 153. Attention to such diversity generally marks most recent writings as well as older, but notable edited collections. See for example, Harvey J. Graff, Conflicting Paths: Growing Up in America (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1995); Elliott West and Paula Petrik, eds., Small Worlds: Children and Adolescents in America 1850-1950 (Lawrence, KA: University of Kansas, 1992); N. Ray Hiner and Joseph M. Hawes, eds.., Growing Up in America Children in Historical Perspective (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1985); and Joy Parr, ed., Childhood and Family in Canadian History (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart Inc., 1982). 8  135 may have unconsciously constructed greater social rigidity than actually existed. It is important to note, however, that second generation males and female subjects often dwelt upon the most visible groups o f youth i n the school and community, the "heads," "cowboys," "greasers," "hockey players," and "jocks" while foregoing the other less visible groupings. The First Generation The initial impression gained from most narratives o f adolescence around Williams Lake throughout the 1940s and early 1950s is o f a comparatively small closely-knit, i f not seemingly homogeneous group o f teenagers. B i l l y A l l e n , for example, recalled that around the end o f Second W o r l d War, "There weren't many teenagers so everybody knew everybody else. We all did the same things. W e were all in the same teams." In the early 1950s, even the basic meaning o f school, Evelyn M c L e o d emphasized, was first and foremost, "togetherness": "It was togetherness with this one and togetherness with that one." Out i n the country, purportedly, "race" was not an issue i n friendship formation, at least according to A x e l Vickers. "Where there were other native kids, w e ' d play with them . . . we never even thought about it then," he said, adding, " I ' m part native myself." A x e l noted the historical shift in how young people perceived and accommodated "race." Such mixing was "taught now" as "politically-correct." A t the time, said A x e l , "we never thought about it - you just went and treated everybody the same." The reality o f local youth culture was not that simple. Clearly, "race" was a prime variable stmcturing youth in the Laketown itself throughout the historical period o f this study. Most "mixed-race" individuals i n this study integrated into non-Aboriginal, and not Aboriginal youth culture. In the case o f Aboriginal young people, the "race"-based St. Joseph's Residential School not only disrupted family socialization, but mitigated against formation o f close relationships with either mixed-race" or Non-Aboriginal  136 individuals in the area. Furthermore, the long-term psychological effects o f segregating Aboriginal children in order to " c i v i l i z e " them outlasted the residential school.  9  First generation "mixed-race" youth like Wesley Smith integrated into the village peer group at the end o f the Second W o r l d War although the quality o f that integration remains unclear. Wesley was a self-proclaimed "loner" who from the age o f roughly eight through fifteen undertook countless day trips alone through the hills above the village on his horse. Sometimes a friend tagged along. A s he said, "I picked a friend — out o f the white bunch." D a v i d Tomiyasi was more explicit about "race"-based differentiation in the village. D a v i d would have preferred to have socialized more with friends after school in the early to m i d 1950s. Parental strictures, chores as well as lingering "hard feelings against my family" kept h i m closer to home than he would have liked: "I never had much opportunity to go downtown, go to local cafes, and just kind o f spend the afternoon with the other kids — I could hear about it. That part I really missed for the most part."  10  W i t h the opening o f a high school dormitory i n the early 1950s, Laketown youth also began to be divided on the basis o f whether they were "dorm" or "town kids." A s described in Chapter 3, the secondary school served to consolidate youth from different social and economic backgrounds within Williams Lake. Besides providing a uniform programme o f studies to pupils, the school proved a vital factor in friendship formation in the region enabling lifelong bonds between village youth and country youth boarding at Rosary H a l l , the high school dormitory, or privately with families. Nonetheless, there remained salient differences  'Cariboo Tribal Council. Impact of the Residential School. Williams Lake: 1991. The general ethos is portrayed in the local press. See "No Japs nor Douks wanted in the Cariboo," Tribune. 10 March 1944; as well as print version of radio address by Grey Turgeon, M.P. for Cariboo, 22 June 1944, 1; and "Repatriate all Japs," 1 March 1945, 1,3. 10  137 between "dorm kids" and those from "town." Rita Dunsmuir, who had lived weekdays in the dormitory i n the mid- to late-1950s, recalled a social distinction predicated upon lifestyle and parental expectations: There was that separation. It was city kids versus country kids and there was that separation because they ["town" teens] could do all the things we couldn't. They had no rules and regulations. W e had them all because we had to be i n at nine. They used to say, " O h , you poor thing." But we never used to feel sorry for ourselves. W e kept thinking " Y o u poor things" because w e ' d go home on the weekends and w e ' d go home to our horses, and our . . . fun and our freedom and we didn't have to worry about what was going on in town . . . [emphasis in original]. Social class also flavoured youth culture, although as August B . Hollingshead noted o f Elmtown residents i n the 1940s, Laketown subjects were loath to employ the term "class" i n casting social differences even where this appeared to outsiders as an unavoidable category.  11  In the 1950s, "town kids" i n Williams Lake contrasted with "dorm kids" not only i n terms o f differing lifestyles, but i n the amount o f discretionary income and time at their disposal. B y 1957, the "dorm kids" were typically separated from those Laketown youth enjoying the freedom associated with car culture that began to characterize the lives o f many urban Canadian teenagers: ' T o w n k i d s ' . . . a lot o f them were into drinking, w i l d parties, had money, roaring around i n cars. There were the beer drinkers that had money, like , the parents had mega-bucks. H e always had a b i g fancy car and he was a nerd, but he had the bucks, but he had a lot o f friends . . . . I f you want my honest opinion about being in the dorm and being from the outside, I think all the people [who] came into the dorm from places a l l came from ranches, all came from places where they had such a workload — like our fun was we got up on Saturday and my sister baked and I scrubbed or vice versa because we had twenty-five on the crew at the ranch. M y mother didn't hire help. Work and regulations imposed upon country teens by the "dorm mother"on weekdays  "Laketown subjects preferred to describe people as being say, from "nicer" or "bigger" homes, from the "poor" side of town, or "the other side of the tracks." See Hollingshead, Elmtown's Youth. 83.  138 complemented norms established by parents on weekends i n structuring leisure and friendship. Rita and Doddie Dunsmuir were thus regimented throughout most o f their adolescence. Both girls internalized the rules o f conduct: Y o u never would have said, ' C a n I go to a dance with so and so or spend the night.' 'I want to go to this party'. . . . W e were i n the dorm . . . we knew what the rules were and i f m o m and dad said be home by eleven, or twelve o'clock, you just never would have questioned it. Y o u would just never have questioned it [emphasis i n original]. The girls never left the ranch unchaperoned. Doddie, for example, attended country dances with her family, went on her first date at fifteen, began "going steady" with her boyfriend, and obtained a driver's licence and even her own car at sixteen. Even then, her younger sister accompanied the couple until Doddie was seventeen. Generally speaking, a teen's ability to associate freely with others also correlated with parental dispositions, subjects' preferences i n choosing friends, as well as everyday proximity to other teens. Often, girls and boys who had frequently associated i n single gender groupings in early childhood grew apart i n the pre- and early-teen years as both genders began to exert restraint towards the sorts o f play i n which they had engaged at a younger age.  12  Billy Allen  recalled that activities such as dances and mixed badminton and Softball teams generally brought the sexes together again i n the mid-teen years. Some teens missed this socialization. U n t i l Harriet Wilson turned sixteen, boys were seldom part o f her group o f female friends i n the late 1940s: "They sort o f went their way and we went ours. W e l l there was a few a r o u n d . . . they were allowed to be with us i f they'd wanted to . . . [but] they had their things they were doing and I guess we had ours we were doing." Geographic isolation from other households with females compelled Evelyn M c L e o d to compromise her desire for female companionship  This restraint is more pronounced in Victoria Bissel Brown, "Female Socialization among the Middle Class of Los Angeles, 1880-1910," in West and Petrik, Small Worlds. 247, 251, 254, passim. I2  139 and establish friendships across gender lines throughout most o f her childhood and into her adolescence.  13  Evelyn grew up associating with "mostly boys," who became "just like  brothers" to her: When we first came here it was always boys, like even at [her previous town] there was a family o f six boys and no girls. A n d I just tagged along and I had to rough it to hang in or else I got left behind. A n d the same when I came here. It was all boys. Within the category o f gender, there were factions based on different interests.  14  A  woman with the outsider's perspective emphasized that varying tastes in fashion and proclivity to date had divided local girls. However tiny and isolated the village compared to large urban centres at the time, a number o f the girls acquired urban attitudes i n this regard. Vancouverborn Katie Jean hardly associated with two girls whom she considered were "more interested i n fashion" than she had been. In fact, Katie Jean's case overturns the stereotype o f "city mouse" trying to transform country bumpkin. Katie Jean revealed "many o f the girls in Williams L a k e " were not interested in horses and the outdoors, "because they were more interested i n city things, which I wasn't." Such girls pored over "the American girls' magazines" and attempted to exude the teenage "magazine kind o f image": I think there was a tendency for many o f the girls my age, the ones that might have been interested in being cheerleaders i f they'd been i n a different kind o f school [laughs]. . . I think some o f those were more interested i n clothes and looking pretty and makeup and how they did their hair and things like that. I was pretty naive at fourteen . . . I made my own jeans and jeans weren't really that common at that time anyway. Some o f these same girls were also beginning to date in their mid-teens, a heterosexual  Geographical proximity also allowed friendships to take root, as one man explained, "in that walk to school more than anything else." Cited in Antonio F. Arruda, "Growing Up in Portuguese-Canadian Families: an oral history of adolescence in Vancouver, 1962-1980" (Vancouver: UBC unpublished M A . thesis, 1992). 13  See for example, Margaret J. Finders, Just Girls: Hidden Literacies and Life in Junior High (N.Y.: Teachers' College Press, 1997), as well as Antonio F. Arruda, "Expanding the View: Growing up in Portuguese-Canadian Families, 1962-80," Canadian Ethnic Studies XXV. 3 (1993): 8-25. 14  140 courtship phenomenon that had emerged i n Canada three decades earlier.  15  B y the late 1950s,  Canadian girls were venturing on their first date usually about age thirteen or fourteen with the practice peaking somewhere between the sixteenth and seventeenth birthday. Around this time, one often began "going steady" with a boy, a state o f "premarital monogamy" with value systems o f faithfulness and "cheating" parallelling those o f marriage. A t a time when active sexuality was sanctioned only within heterosexual matrimonial bonds, most Canadian parents apparently frowned upon their daughter's going steady while in high school as they feared venereal temptation placed "too much strain on the moral fibre o f the individual."  16  Laketown girls appear more restrained than their Canadian counterparts i n taking up the custom o f dating at least in the first decade after the Second W o r l d War. W i l m e Ruth Baxter, aged sixteen i n 1945, cited a relative lack o f males during the Second W o r l d War, as a significant factor i n mitigating against dating: There wasn't too many boys around you to distract y o u . . . and so we had to do things together. So it probably kept us out o f a lot o f trouble I think [laughter]. But it didn't seem to bother us a lot at the time because we didn't know any better. I mean that was the way it was. Although there were numerous boys W i l m e ' s age i n the village, only "some" girls in her age cohort had boyfriends at age "fourteen or fifteen." " G o i n g to the show" i n mixed gender  Owram, Born at the Right Time. 248-9. Sidney Katz, "Going Steady: Is it Ruining Our Teenagers?" Maclean's. 3 January 1959. For patterns and details of late nineteenth-and early twentieth-century "heterosexual sociability," see Peter Ward, "Courtship and Social Space in Nineteenth-Century English Canada." Canadian Historical Review 68, 1 (1987): 35-62; and particularly, Karen Dubinsky, Improper Advances: Rape and Heterosexual Conflict in Ontario. 1880-1929 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993). Citing examples drawnfromnorthern and rural southern Ontario, Dubinsky cautions middle-class models of courtship did not match "the realities" of rural or small town working class social life ( pp. 116-19), especially when "race" is concerned, (p. 143). Hegemonic cultural forms and practices constructing normal and deviant sexuality are examined in Mary Louise Adams. The Trouble with Normal: Postwar Youth and the Making of Heterosexualitv (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997); On the evolution of twentieth century American courtship, including the dating form, see Beth Bailey, From Front Porch to Back Seat: Courtship in Twentieth-Century America (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1988). 15  Katz cites a Canadian High News poll indicating 82% of parents were unfavourable. "Going Steady," 1959.  5  141  groups with all parties paying admission separately was "more permissible" by parents than venturing forth as a couple. There were also practical reasons for the norm: " K i d s just didn't have money at that time — they were lucky to pay their own way into the show let alone take a girlfriend or boyfriend." Most women in this sample dated infrequently, i f at all, before their fifteenth birthday even as girls grew atuned to sexuality. A s E v e l y n put it, "being with farm animals and raising dogs, I was exposed to m a t i n g . . . it was a perfectly natural thing." Around age fifteen, after having associated mostly with boys ("my buddies") all her life, Evelyn developed "crushes" and enjoyed dancing with a "particular boy." Even when she was allowed to date, relationships were highly constrained. Such things as "talking on the phone" were discouraged by parents: "I mean we never had that liberty at a l l . " Furthermore, "the transportation factor" "definitely limited" dates among country youth without a driver's licence and access to a vehicle: " I f a boy asked you to a show, well, how are you going to get there? He doesn't walk to your house and pick you up." In Evelyn's case, "I would be dropped o f f at the theatre with the boy and go to the show and then my parent or somebody would be waiting to bring me home." August B . Hollingshead discovered that over fifty-five percent o f the married segment o f the drop-out group o f youth in Elmtown married locally and a baby was born within eight months o f the marriage.  17  While no such quantitative attempt was undertaken i n Williams  Lake, most first generation females like other Canadian girls at the time married around age eighteen, for some, very soon after high school graduation.  18  Most married males from the  "August B. Hollingshead, Elmtown's Youth and Elmtown Revisited (N.Y. John Wiley & Sons, 1975 [49]). Owram, Bom at the Right Time. 12-14, 249, passim; Veronica Strong Boag, "Home Dreams: Women and the Suburban Experiment in Canada, 1945-1960," Canadian Historical Review 62 (December 1991). 18  region. Women recalled the norm: one went steady with an individual and usually expected to marry them, perhaps, as Betty Friedan once suggested, because young people saw "no other true value" i n society.  19  Resisting the norm was simply too difficult for most girls. Evelyn  M c L e o d , for example, graduated from grade twelve i n June, 1955, married her childhood sweetheart that November ("and I was a virgin"), and bore her first child nine months later. E m i l y Potter never graduated, elected to marry, and was soon raising a family. A s she pointed out "The group was always together and sooner or later you would match up." The Second Generation Oral narratives o f subjects o f the second generation, particularly the eight subjects o f the Class o f '73, circumscribe a rough typology o f youth in the Laketown i n the early 1970s. One subject noted, " Y o u definitely knew there were groups, that's for sure," a perspective contrasting sharply with the social context o f the 1940s as described by some o f the older generation. Subjects sometimes referred to youth by their geographic origins, for example, whether they were "out-of-town" youth ("country," "rural," "ranch," "farm" kids), or those from "town." Eight discrete groupings o f youth also crystallized from the narratives: the "hippies," "jocks," "cowboys," "greasers," "hockey players," "natives," East Indians" and the "no-fitters." O f these eight, the first five garnered the most attention from subjects.  20  Not much is unique about the jock and hippie groups given their ubiquitous presence  Betty Friedan, The Feminine Mystique (N.Y. Dell Publishing, 1964), 179.  19  Terms such as "greasers" and "hippies" were employed loosely by subjects. As indicated elsewhere in this chapter and again in Chapter 6, most individuals claiming to be, or described as hippies, for example, were not members of the rarer "total culture" of veritable "hippies." "Hippies" generally referred to "bohemian and student subcultures" and lifestyles. They sought to escape bureaucratized society. Their quest for a "romantic revival of pastoral innocence" included sexual experimentation and substance abuse. True "greasers" wore black leather jackets, studs, boots and jeans, and were "violent, studiedly working class" and 'wild ones'" See Michael Brake, Comparative Youth Cultures: the Sociology of Youth Cultures and Youth Subcultures in America Britain, and Canada (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1985), 90. 20  143 across North America at the time and the two may be dealt with summarily. The first group, the "jocks" or "jock types," included popular males and females active i n school athletics, and especially i n the case o f males, community-organized sports. The second group, the "hippies," were an ill-defined collective o f youth manifest i n Canada shortly after they emerged i n the United States. Unlike the zoot-suits and bobby-soxers o f the previous generation, hippies "threatened to eclipse" adult society at least i n large Canadian urban centres.  21  Although  "hippies" emerged a little later in Williams Lake, by 1970 some individuals with long hair, beads and shabby dress had definitely gained notoriety among Laketown adults as pitiful and unkempt drug addicts or "junkies." Based upon her witnessing o f the events in a local courtroom in December o f 1970, one woman cast them as "absolutely physical wrecks" squandering their God-given "beautiful bodies, souls and brains."  22  O n the whole, "hippie" youth requires qualification as most o f those cast as hippies were just as likely to be described as the pot-smoking and acid-dropping "heads." A s one subject aptly put it, "The kids weren't really hippies - they emulated the mannerisms and the mores o f the hippies, but not the philosophy o f the hippies." Many were members o f "partial cultures," or "part-time versions o f total cultures" who characteristically dabbled i n aspects o f the hippie culture.  23  In this sample o f Laketown heads, however, substance abuse consumed  much more than the occasional weekday evening and weekend. Eighteen year o l d Gwen  Doug Owram, Born at the Right Time. 187. In 1967, Vancouver, with 1200 "hippies" was one of the first Canadian cities to see this group as a counterculture "menace." Pierre Berton, 1967: Canada's Turning Point (Toronto: Seal Books, 1998), 195. Canadians did not always lag in youth trends. Canadian teens were seen as "more permissive," twice as likely to cohabitate before marriage, and more likely to use the pill than their American counterparts. Elsie F. Jones, et. al. "Teenage Pregnancy in Industrialized Countries" cited in Seymour Martin Lipset, Continental Divide: the Values and Institutions of the United States and Canada (N.Y: Routledge, 1990), 114. 2,  ^"The Use of Drugs Did This," Tribune. 14 January 1970,4. ^Herbert J. Gans, Popular Culture and High Culture: An Analysis and Evaluation of Taste (N.Y.: Basic Books, 1974), 94-6. The point is explored in Chapter 6.  144 Thompson who had grown up in an "absurdly genteel" Vancouver family became familiar with hippie culture around Kitsilano before moving to the Laketown, finding work i n a restaurant, and mixing with local youth. In retrospect, G w e n considered Laketown "hippies" comparatively "unintellectual" although she had enjoyed their "earthiness," as well as the fact they were "more active" insofar as they often left town to camp, fish, party, or take i n rodeos across the Cariboo-Chilcotin. The third group, variously labelled as the "cowboys," "cowgirls," "country kids," or "ranch kids," came from ranches and small communities across the region. L i k e their counterparts a generation before them, many were largely dependent upon the dormitory and bussing in order to finish their secondary schooling i n Williams Lake although, unlike the previous generation, a number o f them were able to reside at home and commute into the Laketown i n private motor vehicles. The social cleavage between country and village teens had not, however, changed. A s L y n n Blacksmith noted, "The old adage o f the town and country kids, it was very, very true." Wendy Lorimar, who lived i n town but socialized very little outside o f school herself, observed that town kids "just more or less tolerated the kids that were from out o f town." While some country youth adopted contemporary fashions, ragged bell-bottom jeans, beads, "Jesus boots," and so on, many others continued to distinguished themselves with the regional "western" or wrangler garb: cowboy boots and hats, "straight" pants or jeans, and plaid shirts. One subject recalled their presence in the mid-1970s i n a stereotypic and masculine perspective. The "big thing" among country youth was "they seemed to always have the pickup trucks . . . and their girlfriends were always i n their lap i n the pickup truck." Not a l l "country" youth originated on distant ranches. Lynn Blacksmith was no ranch kid. Yet, her work load and isolation on acreage only a few minutes drive from  145 town led her to identify with "country kids." A s she said, " W e didn't hang out with town kids." Subjects recall that the fourth group, the "greasers" or "greaseballs," generally originated i n Glendale (known as Smedleyville i n the 1940s and 1950s), ideologically situated on "the other side o f the tracks." Between 1965 and 1975, Glendale (eventually annexed by Williams Lake) was widely i f not infamously perceived as "the "poor section o f town, there was no doubt about it" with Indo-Canadian as w e l l as "sawmill," "logger," and "welfare-type" families. Glendale was separated from both Williams Lake and Columneetza Senior Secondary School by bush and fields ("the dairy"), linked to "town" by a single road and to Columneetza by trails. Shared outdoor pursuits such as hunting and fishing and part-time work in the sawmills sometimes cemented friendships between Glendale and Williams Lake males. But this sort o f social glue was non-existent for Cindy M c E w a n and her "jock" friends who had nothing to do with the "Glendale group" o f females. Cindy grew up thinking Glendale was a "scummy area," and that the "Glendale group" "were scum [emphasis i n original]." If "town" males identified the group as comprised o f males and imbued it with descriptors linked to power and intimidation ("greasers," "tough," "gangs"), this woman distinguished the group by its female constituents. Glendale girls had a particular "look." They were "hickey": They had their own g r o u p . . . . Not that their clothes weren't nice, but they just didn't put it together right, like the colours . . . big earrings, real bright lipstick when that really wasn't " i n " — that's what I mean by "hickey." Not that their clothes weren't as good as ours, but it's just the way they put them on. Or, maybe they backcombed their hair too much . . . there was absolutely a look. That was their look. Although some subjects included the fifth group, the "hockey players," i n the jock category, narratives from hockey players themselves suggest that these athletes formed their own group.  A s noted i n the next chapter, rigorous practice and game schedules disallowed  146 their membership on many school sports teams. I f " B a n d " students comprised an elite corpus o f sorts (as a result o f their talent, i f not socio-economic background), " R e p " hockey players also formed another, albeit more popular youth elite within both school and community. L i k e Band students, R e p players toured the region, province and even played outside Canada. A t age "fourteen, fifteen," they were billeted i n gymnasiums and private homes in Prince George, Quesnel, Kamloops and the Lower Mainland, and on rare occasions, in places such as Seattle. Given the social role hockey played in the community, some hockey players became local heroes although some are still scorned by at least one subject who had grown up with them i n the mid-1970s and who saw little change in the intervening years. One wonders i f at the time that scorn for these athletes was not, i n fact, teenage envy: O h , hockey was a big deal. The kids that were good, everybody knew their families and that was sort o f like, a sort o f a status t h i n g . . . . The guys that were the hockey players were the guys that became the drinkers and had the vehicles and hot babes and most o f them, in my view, ended up becoming bums.. . . They [were] actually unpleasant people as adolescents in s c h o o l . . . sort o f the tough guys . . . most never made it through high school. A n d they were the big drinkers. After Pete Anderson made the Rep team, hockey "became the main thing in my life." He disputed the team's reputation: " W e were a group bonding within ourselves. The girls weren't a b i g part o f it. Individuals, o f course, do not always live neatly within their ascribed categories. Several subjects could be placed within several aforementioned types. After his parents' deaths, M y l e s Osborne, for example, lived i n the high school dormitory. Summers were spent at the ranch, and winters " i n town." H e "