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UBC Theses and Dissertations

Squamish socialization Ryan, Joan 1973

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SQUAMISH SOCIALIZATION by JOAN RYAN B.A., Carleton University, 1957 M.Ed., University of Alaska, 1959 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in the Department of Anthropology and Sociology We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COIUMBIA September, 1973 In presenting t h i s thesis i n p a r t i a l f u l f i l m e n t of the requirements for an advanced degree at the University of B r i t i s h Columbia, I agree that the Library s h a l l make i t f r e e l y available for reference and study. I further agree that permission fo r extensive copying of t h i s thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the Head of my Department or by his representatives. It i s understood that copying or publication of t h i s thesis for f i n a n c i a l gain s h a l l not be allowed without my written permission. Department of The University of B r i t i s h Columbia Vancouver 8 , Canada i ABSTRACT Squamish S o c i a l i z a t i o n This i s a study of the s o c i a l i z a t i o n processes among major extended f a m i l i e s on the Capilano Reserve. Ethnographic data i n t r o -duce the s o c i a l environment and provide the context for an analysis of s o c i a l i z i n g . : experiences. The analysis of s o c i a l i z a t i o n also gives i n s i g h t s into s o c i a l change and adaptive responses, and focuses on the a c q u i s i t i o n of ethnic i d e n t i t y within a m u l t i c u l t u r a l s e t t i n g . The thesis seeks to show how c h i l d r e n , youths and adults resolve personal dilemmas of formulating an i d e n t i t y when the sanc-tions of s o c i a l i z a t i o n processes are i n opposition. The study points out that any i n d i v i d u a l may be involved i n f i r s t , second and t h i r d processes of s o c i a l i z a t i o n which may be experienced simultaneously or i n sequence. The context i n which they occur i s a complex one bounded by membership i n a s p e c i f i c extended family. The i n d i v i d u a l must also accommodate the demands of opposing family groups who form the Band corporate structure and the demands of the adjacent white society i n which he must also be involved. Primary emphasis i s placed on the d e s c r i p t i o n and analysis of the process of s o c i a l i z a t i o n rather than on the p r a c t i c e s . This provides an extension to the t r a d i t i o n a l l i t -erature on s o c i a l i z a t i o n and a f u l l e r understanding of the dynamics of i n t e r a c t i o n between adults and c h i l d r e n as well as among those adults who undergo the t h i r d process of s o c i a l i z a t i o n . Findings i n d i -cate that c u l t u r a l c o n f l i c t s , i f they e x i s t , do not neces s a r i l y r e s u l t i i in perceptual conflicts. Rather, one individual may choose a p r i -mary path which avoids conflicting choices; another may tolerate ex-posure to conflicting processes and emerge as a bicultural person. In either case, the individual is Squamish by self-definition. The ineffective socialization that is carried out by parents who were themselves unable to complete a socialization process in either white or Squamish culture is also discussed. This discussion links historical determinants of l i f e styles with the re-establishment of a closed system for socialization within the extended family. Such a closure restores to the grandparental generation their roles as p r i -mary socializers and cultural custodians. It also allows some youths to choose to become bicultural. The concluding statement of the thesis links the presenta-tion of Squamish theories of socialization and the observed practices with specific theoretical concerns about development, identity, and cognitive balance which have a general application. i i i TABLE OF CONTENTS Page Abstract i L i s t of Tables i v L i s t of Maps v Foreward v i Introduction 1 Chapter I General S o c i o - h i s t o r i c a l Features of Contemporary Squamish So c i a l Organization 33 Chapter II Contemporary Settlement and S o c i a l Structure at the Capilano Reserve 72 Chapter I I I The Contemporary Smokehouse: Setting for R i t u a l S o c i a l i z a t i o n 101 Chapter IV The Squamish Family: Setting for D a i l y S o c i a l i z a t i o n 160 Chapter V Analysis of Squamish S o c i a l i z a t i o n 217 Bibliography 2 4 Q Appendices Appendix 1: Showing General Information on Squamish Reserves, 1916 247 Appendix 2: Floor Plan f o r T y p i c a l Smokehouse 250 Appendix 3: Chart 1 251 Chart 2 252 i v LIST OF TABLES Page Table 1 Occupations of 26 Heads of Households 53 Table 2 Showing Monthly Income of 26 Heads of Households 53 Table 3 Showing General Information on 26 Households 55 Table 4 Showing Comparative Household Population of Capilano Reserve (49) and Selected Sample (26) by Age and Sex 74 V LIST OF MAPS Page Map 1 North Vancouver Reserves Map 2 Capilano Reserve Village Map 3 Capilano Reserve Showing Kin-Linked Houses 43 Site 71 a Sample of 75 v i FOREWARD Many people have been involved i n the process of completing t h i s t h e s i s . In the course of work over the years, my Chairman, Harry Hawthorn, has been consistent i n h i s b e l i e f that the work would come to f r u i t i o n . He has been a h e l p f u l and enthusiastic mentor as well as a f r i e n d . I wish the work more f u l l y r e f l e c t e d the excellence which could be the t r i b u t e he deserves. There i s no way i n which to express my genuine gratitude f or the time and e f f o r t he has invested i n t h i s work. One of the most rewarding aspects of thesis research has been the r e l a t i o n s h i p s we established with people at Capilano. I n d i v i -duals, too numerous to name, have helped i n a v a r i e t y of ways with the data c o l l e c t i o n . Dominic and Josie C h a r l i e took us into t h e i r family i n the Squamish way. This generous and kind act brought us into a c i r c l e of r e l a t i o n s h i p s which have been of great importance to my g i r l s , Sandra and Taanis, and to me. There i s no adequate manner i n which we can convey the a f f e c t i o n and happiness we f e e l as we continue our a s s o c i a t i o n with the C h a r l i e family. Dominic's and Josie's daugh-t e r , Barbara Kobierski, has been an e s p e c i a l l y good f r i e n d as has her daughter, Ann. Steve C h a r l i e , S a l l y Nahanee, and Chuck and Barbara B i l l y have also welcomed us at any time. Children of these f a m i l i e s have treated mine as cousins and a l l have enjoyed growing and playing together. v i i There is no proper expression for the grief we feel because of the death of our grandfather, Dominic Charlie. He was interested in having a written record on the Squamish. To this end, he gave gen-erously of his time and energy in recalling his early l i f e and in pro-viding an elder's perspective on contemporary issues. He added his knowledge and wonderful humour to the interpretation and analysis of the information we reviewed together. He especially enriched the lives of the children with his presence and with his story-telling. One of Sandra's most cherished moments was the day he accompanied her to school in Calgary to tell the children about the Squamish people. Taanis remembers their early morning walks along the Bow River. She appreciated her time in the smokehouse with him too. He gave such moments to each of his grandchildren throughout his l i f e . Dominic's contribution to this work was made not only through the provision of information but also through the enrichment of our thoughts and the deepening of our perspectives with his philosophy. My daughters, Sandra and Taanis, have endured beyond belief. They have graciously accepted my absences, my irritability, and the considerable mobility required by fieldwork. Many of their exper-iences while on the Squamish reserves have been important and gratifying ones. Unfortunately, these have not always compensated for the dubious quality of our lives during the writing period. In recognizing that their relief equals my own at the completion of this task, I wish to express my gratitude to them for enduring with such patience and good-will . v i i i Drs. Beatrice and Edwin L i p i n s k i deserve s p e c i a l mention. They have housed us and provided the use of t h e i r study for many per-iods throughout the research and w r i t i n g phases. Their welcome and continuing personal support have made the task of thesis writing an easier one. Several people have read the draf t of t h i s work. Professors Michael Ames, Michael Kew, Wilson Duff, and Arthur More have offered comments useful for r e v i s i o n and for thought. In addition to these readers who comprise my committee under the chairmanship of Professor Harry Hawthorn, others have undertaken to help i n a v a r i e t y of ways. Dr. Claudia Lewis was my external reader. Early d r a f t s were commented on by Reva Robinson, Madeline Bronsdon, I Vernon S e r l . Marlene Baker and Pat Jacobs contributed s u b s t a n t i a l time and information on s o c i a l -i z a t i o n . Barbara Kobierski has provided time and information which en-abled me to make corrections or amplify various points. I have appre-ciated the assistance I have received from these and many other persons. Any errors or misconceptions are my r e s p o n s i b l i t y and not that of the people who have so generously a s s i s t e d . Dr. Robert Westbury has been a h e l p f u l f r i e n d throughout the writing period. Lena and B i l l Gallup of Gallup Exploration Company graciously a s s i s t e d with the map work. There are many ways i n which t h i s material could have been presented. The manner chosen seems to be the most e f f e c t i v e for the current purpose. I have not been able to use many of the data I have on hand for a v a r i e t y of reasons. Some of i t i s not relevant to s o c i a l i z a t i o n ; much of i t i s c o n f i d e n t i a l ; some of i t needs to await a l e s s ix sensitive time for reporting. Some of the Capilano people who pro-vided such information will be disappointed to find their material only partially included. I am sure that they will accept the above ex-planations and realize that I have valued their assistance nonetheless. In the attempt to mask personal information, I have tried not to dis-tort the more specific Squamish ways. I believe that the report is sufficiently balanced to be generally acceptable. The time lapse be-tween the yearsof research and the presentation of this report in 1973 will make some matters irrelevant and others appear to be inaccurate. The thesis reports on situations as they were in 1968-70. Revision of the thesis to accommodate changes since that time could not be done at this time-. I again express my appreciation to the Capilano Squamish people for their willing participation and continuing inter-est in this work. The research which began with the health survey in 1968, was carried out with funds from three sources: Leon and Thea Koerner Foundation Department of National Health and Welfare Canada Council. 1 INTRODUCTION Data for this thesis were collected on the Capilano Reserve between 1968 and 1971. I n i t i a l l y , I made contacts with as many fami-l i e s as possible in order to carry out a health survey on the reserve; i t was completed in 1969. The health survey was a team study carried out by Gloria Webster, Virginia Carter, myself, and Paul Termansen. A 1 preliminary report was published in 1970; the f u l l report was sub-mitted to Band Council, and to participants, in the f a l l of 1969. The general ethnographic data collected during the specific health survey provided a basis for continuing investigation into pat-terns of socialization. This research followed from my interest in how Squamish individuals and groups resolved stressful situations which arise within the family, within the reserve, or in contact situations between reserve members and the surrounding white community. I became particularly interested in the question of identity as i t related to an individual's ab i l i t y to find a functional place within his kin group, within the corporate Band group, and within his school or work group. It was clear that each of these groups required differing orien-tation and social s k i l l s on the part of the individual. In many i n -stances, these membership groups were in c r i t i c a l conflict of goals and aspirations but they involved overlapping membership. It was neces-sary, therefore, for individuals to accommodate these considerably d i f -1. Paul Termansen and Joan Ryan, "Sociocultural Parameters of Health and Disease Among B.C. Indians," Canadian Medical Association Jour- nal, April 1970. 2 ferent goals and aspirations, loyalties and skills; they needed, in other words, to be people of many parts. The process of socialization involves instruction of the young by the members of one or more senior generations. The ends of the socialization process are to teach the young in matters vital to the maintenance of the society, or social group, of which the indivi-dual is a member. Thus the individual, as he develops and matures, must acquire those social skills which enable him to communicate with other members of his group, to perceive his environment and experiences in ways similar — i f not identical — to the majority of group mem-bers, and to adhere to the regulative restrictions of the group as long as he remains a member. The primary group of membership of any individual is the domestic group which involves both nuclear and ex-tended family members. In this group the child learns to whom he must be responsible and loyal; he learns to love and to hate; he learns the requisite behaviour and normative values which enable him to "belong," "to be worthy," and to "behave properly." Membership implies an "in" and an "out" status. So, the child learns who other members of the "in" group are, that i s , who his kin and close friends are; he also learns to identify the outsiders and the accompanying set of pre-scribed behaviours which enable him to coexist with them. The socialization process in Western society assumes a uni-tary direction of l i f e and life-style. In large and complex societies we generally assume that the majority of individuals will live their adult lives in circumstances relatively similar to those of their child-3 hood. As a result, we expect to find l i t t l e conflict in the process of socialization. Individuals may extricate themselves from their f i r s t process and undergo a second socialization in another system; this involves considerable adapatation on the part of such individuals. Some people who undergo such experiences are never completely social-ized in the second one and ultimately return to their natal group norms. An example of this are the young adults who revert to early normative behaviour at c r i t i c a l l i f e stages; for example, at the time of marriage, or when they have children, find permanent employment, and the like. In Canadian society in general, the second process of socialization takes place in a linear fashion, that i s , after 14 or more years of primary socialization. Also, there appears to be a 2 tertiary process of socialization only for members of minority groups in Canada. The Canadian Indian situation contrasts markedly from the general Canadian one. There are approximately 280,000 registered In-dians in Canada and an estimated 300,000 people of Indian descent who 3 have never been registered. With the exception of a few extremely isolated reserves, most Indian people come from reserves which have access to rural or urban white centers. V i t a l reserve services, and the general source of income, are dependent on relationships with white government o f f i c i a l s and resources. Schooling is almost totally ad-ministered by white personnel and based on a white, middle-class model, 2. This term is explained on p. 16 f f , 3. Personal conversation with Tony Belcourt, President, Native Council of Canada, March 1973. 4 curriculum, and educational process. These white i n s t i t u t i o n s a f f e c t the Indian s o c i a l i z a t i o n process. White personnel bring into Indian communities and homes a va r i e t y of goals, perspectives and processes 4 which may a l t e r the l i f e - s t y l e of i n d i v i d u a l s . Public health ser-v i c e s , schooling, and employment require s p e c i f i c and d i f f e r e n t sets of perceptions, goals and behaviours than do kin o b l i g a t i o n s , subsis-tence a c t i v i t i e s , and education i n Indian mores, r e l i g i o n and etiquette. While the degree of acculturation varies from group to group, and while the degree of success i n the introduction of white i n s t i t u t i o n s vary, few Indian i n d i v i d u a l s escape the necessity of making some adjustment to the white community and i t s norms. When the adjustment i s com-plete the Indian i n d i v i d u a l becomes b i c u l t u r a l ; when i t i s only p a r t i -a l l y completed, the Indian i n d i v i d u a l becomes a marginal person who i s not f u l l y accepted i n the Indian or white community; or he reverts to his primary status. In the l a t t e r case, he often becomes a person who i s ignored or rejected by the white community. In a few cases, an In-dian i n d i v i d u a l may exchange h i s Indian orientations completely f o r those of the white community. In such cases, he i s often rejected by hi s primary group. In the process of becoming b i c u l t u r a l , most Indian i n d i v i d u a l s undergo considerable periods of s t r e s s , of personal quandary, and d i f -4. I am postulating an e s s e n t i a l difference i n the perceptions of In-dians and whites. This difference i s cognitive and a f f e c t s s o c i a l behaviour. I t i s not related to the degree of economic accultura-t i o n . The differences i n perception account f o r the differences i n ends and means of the s o c i a l i z a t i o n process. I t i s the cognitive d i v e r s i t y which determines the "Indianness" or "whiteness" of an i n d i v i d u a l and which makes h i s economic and p o l i t i c a l status some-what i r r e l e v a n t . 5 ficult decision-making. Even in highly urbanized and acculturated groups such as the Squamish, the process is seldom an easy one. Where the process involves migration from a rural reserve to a city i t is sometimes so traumatic that i t renders some individuals dysfunctional. In addition, some individuals undergo a third process which either en-hances their bicultural status, or minimizes i t and enhances their Indian status in a manner which goes beyond the primary socialization 5 process and its accomplishments. In observing the opposition of groups and individuals while doing the health survey, I began to question how the socialization pro-cesses in effect at Capilano prepared people to adjust to the various situations described above. I became particularly interested in the dilemma of persons whose membership groups were both opposing and overlapping. It appeared that the level of stress for such individuals could be considerable when certain decisions had to be made which in-volved conflicting loyalties, personal feelings, and local social de-mands. To which of the many groups did parents from different kin groups orient their children? When the first and second processes of sociali-zation were simultaneous rather than sequential, how did youth evolve a basic identity? When the first and second processes of socialization were in conflict, how was the situation resolved; what were the results 5. An example of such a case is where an individual has been raised on a reserve but only speaks English, becomes bicultural in the sense that he is educated, employed, and familiar with "the white ways"; then he begins to learn his own language, joins the tradi-tional ritual group and its activities, and acquires acceptance and status in i t . 6 in terms of identity and enculturation? In an urban setting where the white community was v i s i b l y comfortable in contrast to the more res-tricted situation of the Indian community, how did peer socialization affect that of the family? In a community where successful bicultura-tion was viewed with considerable discomfort and suspicion on the part of many individuals, how did the bicultural individual survive at home and in both the Indian and white communities? What price did i n d i v i -duals have to pay for being bicultural? How did individuals remain "whole" while juggling several roles, a number of which were in con-stant conflict? What were the mechanisms used in the resolution of such conflicts by a group which had institutionalized avoidance of overt conflict? This thesis seeks to answer the questions raised above. In searching for answers, I have talked with many Capilano and Sta'amus people, examined our own concepts and practices of socialization, and considered the literature carefully. The results are presented in two ways: 1) I offer a f u l l description of the social setting of the Capilano reserve and point out the ramifications of that urban setting. I also report on the information gathered about socialization practices and theories in the two major factions on the reserve. To these, I add my own observations on family l i f e , alliances, and conflicts. 2) I add to the reports and observations my analysis of the events re-ported and observed. I attempt to relate the analysis to what is known about the process of socialization in any group, and to the theoretical writings on the dynamics of human behaviour especially as they relate 7 to the a c q u i s i t i o n of i d e n t i t y and the r e s o l u t i o n of interpersonal c o n f l i c t s . The thesis accomplishes two major ends: i t presents new ethnographic material on a contemporary Squamish reserve. Its major emphasis i s on the processes of s o c i a l i z a t i o n found within the commun-i t y which make i n d i v i d u a l s into "acceptable" Squamish people by t h e i r own d e f i n i t i o n . In addition, the thesis questions the adequacy of some of the current s o c i a l science writings on enculturation, Indian-white r e l a t i o n s h i p s , reference groups, s o c i a l change, and s i m i l a r m a t e r i a l . In r a i s i n g such questions, I attempt to provide alternate explanations which may prove to be useful i n anthropological discus-sions of Indian reserve l i f e , s o c i a l change, a c c u l t u r a t i o n , and s o c i a l -i z a t i o n . The L i t e r a t u r e Writings on s o c i a l i z a t i o n abound i n the p s y c h i a t r i c , psycho-l o g i c a l and educational l i t e r a t u r e . In a d d i t i o n , the ethnographic l i t e r a t u r e has considerable d e s c r i p t i v e material on c h i l d - r e a r i n g p r a c t i c e s but very l i t t l e of i t deals with contemporary urban material. The anthropological l i t e r a t u r e on s o c i a l change, e t h n i c i t y , and a c c u l -turation provides some in s i g h t s into the dynamics of change and adjust-ment; seldom, however, does i t use data from family observations to expound these points. In general, the s o c i a l change l i t e r a t u r e deals with the corporate group and s t r u c t u r a l change; i t tends to be economic and p o l i t i c a l i n i t s focus and seldom s o c i a l . In reading about p o l i t i c a l 8 systems, ethnic group theory, religion, culture, migration, accultura-tion and similar topics, one can piece together concepts about fami-lies and individuals and their specific adjustments. Seldom are child-rearing practices examined with reference to broad political, economic, Indian-white and historical factors. In reviewing the psychiatric literature, i t is clear that few writers consider socialization practices beyond early childhood, although there is material on adolescent development. Most of i t has a heavy middle-class bias. Significant events affecting one's self-concept and identity after adolescence have l i t t l e or no place in the classical literature. The literature reviewed from the field of psychology is in-adequate in the same way stated for the psychiatric material. Dis-cussion of individual reactions and adjustments to stress and conflict focuses on personality theory and seldom considers group cultural char-acteristics. The exception to this is the cross-disciplinary litera-ture in the field of culture and personality. Even there, however, there is heavy reliance on Freudian concepts and l i t t l e is said about the dynamics of adult experience. The literature on educational psychology and sociology draws heavily from the classical literature in psychiatry and psychology. While some of the material uses cultural concepts, i t is highly eval-uative and generally middle-class in reference. Naturally, the major portion of the material deals with secondary socialization and focuses on the schooling process as the means by which i t is accomplished. 9 References to minority groups and their cultures are generally nega-tive and stated in terms of the failure of minority group members to adapt to the school and its goals. The appended bibliography lists the writers whose material was considered and found wanting in the ways stated. I have selected the most relevant major author from each field from whom to draw concepts to use in this thesis. Some I have adapted to f i t my data; other concepts have been used throughout to illustrate specific points. I have used Erikson (1959, 1968, 1963, 1964) as my major psychiatric reference, Festinger (1962) and some Gestalt theorists, Berne (1961), and Moustakas (1969) from psychology, Ausubel (1965, 1968) from educational psychology, and a variety of sources on socialization from the anthropological field: Whiting and Child (1953), 6 Whiting (1963), Mead (1928, 1930), Mayer (1970), and others. Some sociological sources have also been used: Merton (1968), Brim and Wheeler (1966), and others. Concepts drawn from the above authors are cited and their value is self-evident in the text. As a result, I will present no detailed review of the literature in the Introduction. I think i t practical and useful to outline some of my own ideas and assumptions about the process of socialization in a cross-cultural context so that there will be no confusion about terms and ideas as the text progresses. While the majority of my ideas are 6. See Mayer (1970), p. x i i i f f . for a review of the socialization literature in social anthropology. 10 based on traditional theory and data derived from these three fields, they have been mediated by personal and professional experience. They are my own to the extent that they depart from the traditional views of the standard literature. Beliefs and Assumptions The general literature on socialization leads one to believe that early childhood learning and experience determine a person's per-ception and, therefore, his behaviour throughout l i f e . The early 7 learning theorists agree that non-verbal learning is the most signifi-cant of human experiences. They argue that the overlay of learning and experience in subsequent years cannot erase these early established patterns, beliefs, and perceptions. While I agree that early exper-ience and especially non-verbal learning are highly significant, I be-lieve that experiences in later l i f e can also prove to be highly sig-nificant in shaping an adult's perceptions and behaviour. I shall submit the data on Squamish second and third processes of socializa-tion as arguments of this point. In the anthropological literature, there is a tendency to relate adult personality characteristics to specific child-rearing patterns without reference to later experience. An example of this is Honigmann's (1949) work on the Kaska in which he states that the practice of high indulgence in infancy, followed by abrupt weaning T. See Mowrer (;1950, 1960) and Thorndike (1969), and others. 11 and a severe drop In nurturance, produces adults who are alienated and incapable of expressing a f f e c t i o n or anger. He does not r e l a t e t h i s d i r e c t l y to the f a c t that l i f e i s dependent on hunting and trapping for the Kaska and that, l i k e many other land-based e g a l i t a r i a n groups, the Kaska have i n s t i t u t i o n a l i z e d avoidance of c o n f l i c t . I t i s a matter of adult p r i o r i t i e s that the Kaska and other Athapaskans avoid overt c o n f l i c t and i t s repercussions. Their l i v e s depend on the coopera-t i o n of hunting partners and the small domestic group. The Kaska are capable of expressing anger, and do so i n a v a r i e t y of r i t u a l i z e d and highly sophisticated ways. In the same sense, mothers who are capable of withdrawing nurturance must be capable of expressing a f f e c t i o n . In general, the culture and personality l i t e r a t u r e f a i l s to take account of the complexities of human nature exhibited by the d i v e r s i t y of per-s o n a l i t i e s to be found i n any human group, even when chil d r e n are ex-posed to s i m i l a r or i d e n t i c a l s o c i a l i z a t i o n p r a c t i c e s . The interven-ing v a r i a b l e of varied experience as the i n d i v i d u a l ages must be con-sidered . Much of the l i t e r a t u r e on s o c i a l i z a t i o n divides the process into two major segments: primary and secondary. Much of i t f a i l s to d i s t i n g u i s h between the general process and the s p e c i f i c c h i l d - r e a r i n g p r a c t i c e s . In t h i s t h e s i s , I wish to use a broad d e f i n i t i o n of s o c i a l -i z a t i o n which includes, but i s d i s t i n c t from, c h i l d - r e a r i n g p r a c t i c e s . My work does not follow the t r a d i t i o n a l pattern of looking at the i n -d i v i d u a l ' s development i n terms of dependency, nurturance, d i s c i p l i n e , and other such t o p i c a l categories. Instead, I describe the s o c i a l en-12 vironment of the child in which a number of people, concrete practices and teachings, and abstract considerations penetrate. I do not link child-rearing practices with adult characteristics but attempt to show that the ethos and li f e - s t y l e s of community members provide an atmos-phere and restricted range of choice for aiyone within that system. When the person leaves the system, he uses other personal s k i l l s and characteristics which the situation provides him with or demands of him. In other words, while early childhood experiences provide the 8 child with a base from which to view the world, his Q<L&£aZ£ alters constantly to accommodate the situations in which he finds himself. When contiguity and continuity of experience are lacking, then the i n -dividual has to resocialize rather than simply add to his primary ex-perience . The general literature discusses primary and secondary so-cialization as though they were distinct and separate processes. In my opinion there should be a very clear distinction made between the process and the agents. Secondary agents are people who do not belong to the natal family group which starts the socialization process of the infant. They come second; they follow the primary socializers, providing educative s k i l l s and expanded social experiences. For the child, the contact with secondary socializers i s often the f i r s t s i g -nificant contact with "strangers." However important as such contacts are, and however significant the learning which occurs after the child 8. "The whole is greater than the sum of i t s parts" is very applic-able here. 13 emerges from his natal group, the process of socialization which oc-curs is reinforcing his early learning, not altering i t . The exception to this is provided, of course, by minority groups who do not participate in the majority culture. For the Capil-ano Indian children from one segment of the reserve, the contact with secondary agents of socialization i s an opposing and disruptive fact of experience. It does not reinforce primary socialization, i t attempts to resocialize the individual. In other words, i t becomes his second socialization process, not simply a contact with secondary agents in 9 the primary process. I feel the terminology must be c l a r i f i e d . I propose to use "second socialization" as the term denoting a second process, not merely a contact with secondary agents. I have not found this distinc-tion made in the literature on socialization; I feel i t merits consid-erable thought. One of the major reasons why schools often f a i l to reach Indian children is because of this type of discontinuity of process and experience which seeks to supplant rather than reinforce the primary experience. To the extent that schools succeed, the i n -dividual Indian child starts to become bicultural. To the extent that schools f a i l , they turn the child back to his primary group for rein-forcement . The process of socialization implies the learning of a cul-ture so that an individual may behave appropriately in most instances. 9. For children of the other faction, contact with secondary agents is a reinforcement of the primary process similar to that of whites. 14 He learns the rules of behaviour and this learning i s based on i n i t i a l experience which has been positively or negatively reinforced; i t is also based on direct teaching; often, i t i s based on the percep-tion of cues in social situations which inform the individual about the expectations of the group. Children learn their own culture in this way but they only learn i t partially in early years. Some learning must await adult experience and situations. The Capilano child learns by doing and by listening, by imitating, and by adage. He forms some concepts early but must await his time to act them out. For example, most Capilano children can t e l l you what the c r i t e r i a of being a "good" Squamish person are; however, these are c r i t e r i a ap-plied in varying degrees at different ages and some must await adult-hood. The socialization process i s a life-long one for the Capilano person. While this f i r s t process i s on-going, the Capilano child 10 moves into his second socialization process. He goes to school and begins to learn the culture of the whites. This process is mediated in a significant way by parents and older siblings so that i t may be minimized or interrupted at various points. If the primary group re-inforces the second process, then the Capilano child becomes bicultural. That i s , he learns at a steady rate how to function in two cultures. If the second process i s too severely in opposition to his on-going primary process, then the individual i s forced to reject the second and 10. For those from one faction there i s no significant second social-ization process. See Chapter IV, p. 247 f f . 15 concentrate on the f i r s t . More usually, the primary process i s the most e f f e c t i v e while the second one makes some progress u n t i l the i n d i v i d u a l ceases to p a r t i c i p a t e i n i t . The j u x t a p o s i t i o n of the two makes'many i n d i v i d u a l s uncomfortable and uncertain. If the p r i -mary process i s not completed, and the second one i s only minimal i n i t s impact, then the i n d i v i d u a l develops a strong sense of ambiva-lence; the process of i d e n t i t y formation i s either delayed or incom-p l e t e . I t i s important, I think, to note that the f i r s t and second processes of s o c i a l i z a t i o n for the Capilano c h i l d are simultaneous rather than sequential. This distinguishes the Capilano c h i l d from his white counterpart whose secondary agents r e i n f o r c e and prolong the primary process so that most white i n d i v i d u a l s do not go through a second s o c i a l i z a t i o n process i n childhood. I w i l l show that the dev-elopmental tasks (Erikson, 1963) of the Capilano c h i l d are more com-plex and d i f f i c u l t to f u l f i l than the s i m i l a r tasks of the white c h i l d for exactly t h i s reason. The tasks do not d i f f e r s i g n i f i c a n t l y but the context i n which they must be resolved i s d i f f e r e n t . F i n a l l y , I wish to note that the context i n which s o c i a l i z a t i o n proceeds i s a l l important. The type of a t t i t u d e s , perceptions, and be-haviours which c h i l d r e n develop r e l a t e to t h e i r t o t a l environment, not just to t h e i r s o c i a l experience. Some l i t e r a t u r e on reserve popu-l a t i o n s tends to view change as deprivation or c u l t u r a l l o s s . Some data are misinterpreted. For example, i t i s not unusual to f i n d the move to nuclear households described as a los s i n family a l l i a n c e s and a contributor to the breakdown of t r a d i t i o n a l and r e c i p r o c a l r e l a -16 tlonships. Seldom do the studies account for the daily interaction pattern of a l l members of the group and the high mobility of the c h i l -dren involved. I w i l l show that at Capilano the mobility of the c h i l -dren enables them to be socialized by a large number of kin, not only by their parents and siblings. Although the adjacent white community tends to view Capilano as an impoverished and deprived island within the metropolis, the Capilano people do not use the white community as their reference group. They are generally positive about their reserve l i f e and this positivism is communicated to their children. Capilano is a safe and good place to li v e by many c r i t e r i a ; that makes the process of socialization there one of strength and warmth. I also wish to add a new term to the literature: I c a l l the process i t describes "tertiary" socialization. In contrast to the second process of socialization, which occurs simultaneously with the primary socialization of Capilano children and youth, the third process can only follow the f i r s t and second processes. It is exper-ienced by adults only. The process is analogous with that of true second socialization of white adults. It may never occur for most Indian adults. When i t does, i t changes the l i f e - s t y l e of the i n d i v i -dual considerably. The process w i l l be discussed later in the thesis so an explanatory case example w i l l suffice here. "A" is a man in his f i f t i e s ; he comes from a "big name" family. He grew up on the re-serve where he lived in an extended kin group and learned the Squamish ways. He did not learn his native language and l e f t his community at the age of eight to attend the residential school. There he learned the "ways of the white" mediated by the school personnel. He finished 17 Grade VIII and then obtained a series of laboring jobs. He continued his second s o c i a l i z a t i o n i n t h i s way and by going to war. As a veter-an, he returned to h i s reserve and spent some time readjusting to l i f e there. Soon he returned to the c i t y where he became regula r l y employed on the docks. Slowly he began to learn something about hi s own culture and people. He became a member of the Shaker Church. He continued i n highly-paid employment for a number of years. About the time he reached his f o r t i e s , he decided to claim h i s name and p r i v i l e g e s , sponsor h i s daughter as a s p i r i t dancer, and become p o l i t i c a l l y involved i n Band a f f a i r s . In order to p a r t i c i p a t e i n r i t u a l events i n h i s own community, he had to undergo a process of s o c i a l i z a t i o n . The Squamish describe the process as one s i m i l a r to "learning to be a person." I t i s equated with r e b i r t h and there i s a period of c h i l d - l i k e status during which the r u l e s , the language, and the behaviour are learned. For "A," i t was not a return to his primary experience because i t involved new c u l -t u r a l content as w e l l as adult perceptions and f e e l i n g s . Nor was i t rel a t e d to h i s second s o c i a l i z a t i o n which enabled him to p a r t i c i p a t e i n white society. I t was a t h i r d process of s o c i a l i z a t i o n which d r a s t i -c a l l y a l t e r e d h i s l i f e - s t y l e , his commitments, his f e e l i n g s , and his perceptions. This t e r t i a r y process of s o c i a l i z a t i o n ranks equally with primary and second processes i n impact and s i g n i f i c a n c e . Some l i t e r a t u r e describes such events as s i g n i f i c a n t , but i s o l a t e d , i n -stances which a l t e r part of an i n d i v i d u a l ' s cognitive set but not h i s t o t a l l i f e . In contrast to such analysis, I o f f e r the above example i n which the t o t a l purview of the i n d i v i d u a l was al t e r e d and h i s perceptions and behaviour with i t . 18 There is a small body of writings on the Salish. None of the recent writings deal with socialization. The most recent research on the Squamish was a political systems study done by Richard Band (1971); the theses done by Varma (1954) and by Philpott (1963) dealt with the economic system of the Squamish. A biographical work on Andrew Paull by Paterson (1962) deals with a number of historical events in the dev-elopment of the Squamish. Works by Wike (1945), Robinson (1963) , and Lane (1953) provide useful reference material on the Salish spirit-dancing complex. Suttle's articles (1958, 1963) on intervillage ties, private knowledge and other features of Salish social organization are extremely valuable references and the ones most related to socializa-tion. Claudia Lewis' (19 70) work on Cowichan families is also a help-ful source. Duff's publication (1964) and that of Hawthorn, Belshaw and Jamieson (1958) provide historical information on the area which permits some assessment of change. Barnett (1955) is the only complete ethnographic study which is available for reference and i t contains l i t t l e detailed data on the Squamish. Kew's work on the Musqueam (1970) provides much information on contemporary reserve l i f e of the Salish. However, i t does not deal specifically with socialization. In using these sources, and in doing the socialization study, I hope to synthesize the ethnographic details presented by the various authors. My study is not a complete ethnography but i t adds a new com-ponent to the literature. It should aid Northwest Coast ethnographers to develop new perspectives on contemporary Salish l i f e . 19 To summarize: I depart from the standard literature on the following major points: 1) The process of socialization must be defined as more than child-rearing practices; 2) Socialization is a life-long process, not one that ends with the significant events of early childhood; 3) It is important to distinguish process from practice; process i n -volves unconscious patterning and responsiveness; practices are conscious, rationalized, and part of the process; 4) Socialization can be segmented into f i r s t , second, and third pro-cesses; these processes may be conjoint and sequential; where the f i r s t two occur, they are conjoint for some Indian children i n an urban center; 5) Agents should not be confused with process; 6) Practices and processes should not be directly linked with adult behaviour and personality characteristics; cultural features and social experience mediate the beginning and end results of s o c i a l i -zation; 7) Reference groups can remain internal even when the group is surroun-ded by a majority culture; 8) Social environment appears to be the.main determiner of the quality of l i f e at Capilano.; this makes the reserve a good place to liv e and strengthens the impact of the socialization processes. 20 Explanation of Key Terms Socialization: The process of learning through which a per-son acquires behaviour, attitudes, values and beliefs as well as lan-guage, cultural cues, and other cognitive and affective aspects of the group of which he is a member. The process begins at birth and con-tinues throughout li f e although identifiable phases are completed at varying times. Socialization may be divided into sequential processes I shall call first, second or third socialization. The division between the processes is only in part an arbitrary one, for while they may be concurrent, they more often occur in sequence. First Process of Socialization: The process which begins at birth in the nuclear and extended family. It is during this process that the child learns his identity, the expectations placed upon him as a result of belonging to a certain family, the roles to which he may aspire as an individual, and the developmental tasks which must be accomplished in any given age period and fulfilled in a culturally de-termined manner. Second Process of Socialization: The process in which the child or adult is exposed to a different cognitive and cultural set which he aspires to learn. The degree of success which the individual experiences as a result of his voluntary or involuntary exposure deter-mines the degree to which he may become bicultural. When the first and second processes are in too great an opposition, the individual is usu-ally forced to select one or the other; since any individual is dependent 21 upon the extended family and close friends for his affirmation and gra-tification, the probability of selecting a second process that is in strong opposition is low. For some individuals the second process is concurrent with the first, as at school entry; for others, i t is a later experience. Third Process of Socialization: This process is one exper-ienced in later childhood or in adulthood, and is usually dependent on the completion of the first and second processes. It will be concur-rent only to the extent that the first two are s t i l l in effect. The process involves the decision of the individual to undergo a process of resocialization which will significantly alter his life-style and with i t change those attitudes, values, perceptions and behaviour at-tached to the first and second processes. The process can tend to make an individual unicultural again, as in the case of one who dis-cards the learning attached to his first or second process. It can also make him bicultural in the case where he discards his first pro-cess of socialization and adheres to the second and third ones. Anticipatory Socialization: The process of anticipatory socialization is a process within a socialization complex, and is not a complete process in itself. The concept denotes the first stage of entering a second or third process wherein the individual begins to consider, to perceive and to value some aspects- of another cultural group. He then aspires to membership in that group and becomes oriented to pursuing learning which will enable him to participate fully in i t . When he consciously aspires to attain roles in a group outside of the 22 one in which he normally lives, he seeks appropriate socializers and socializing situations. Another type of anticipatory socialization may occur uncon-sciously when parents teach children certain behaviour which they know will benefit the child should he aspire to enter the other group. Par-ents who manifest behaviour and values not generally available within the reserve culture have usually had some partial second socialization in the group to which they aspire and to which they seek to orient their children. Others may have the aspirations without the means of imple-menting them and therefore are unable to provide their children with the anticipatory socialization they think they should have. It is important to note again that these terms represent the-oretical and analytical constructs which have an unavoidable arbitrari-ness. In reality the processes are far less clear and the boundaries of each process are more fused than any discussion can portray. The degree of consciousness in both the experience of the learner and the goals of the socializing agent is also extremely variable and often indiscernible. Squamish Use of English Terms English is the language used by the Squamish people in gen-eral.. Some individuals, especially among the elderly, s t i l l speak their own language but there are no homes in which Squamish is the main lan-guage. English is in use now by four generations. Members of the youngest two generations speak only English; members of the third one 2 3 speak English and may understand some Squamish; members of the eldest are b i l i n g u a l . English was learned i n r e s i d e n t i a l schools and passed to children by parents who spoke i t as a second language. In general, children i n school today have a fir m command of English but are aware that l o c a l people use i t i n a d i f f e r e n t way from that of t h e i r school peers. One high school student t o l d me she was not eager to return to school because she would have to use "proper English" again. She, l i k e her parents and s i b l i n g s , prefers'to use the Squamish var i a n t . I t i s impossible and i r r e l e v a n t at this time to discuss f u l l y the use of English by the Squamish. Some usages, however, are presen-ted i n t h i s thesis. I think i t i s useful therefore to define those terms which have a s p e c i f i c Squamish usage d i f f e r e n t from that of other English-speaking people i n the area. The Squamish have terms f o r each of these concepts but use Musqueam or English terms because t h e i r own language i s not i n use. Good People: This i s a term usednoften with a broad meaning as i n the smokehouse when the host may greet people as "my good people" or may r e f e r to a person as "my good cousin." In a s p e c i f i c usage, good implies that the i n d i v i d u a l meets the c r i t e r i a attached to the rol e he i s f i l l i n g . For example, a good Squamish woman i s one who respects the e l d e r l y , meets kin o b l i g a t i o n s , meets her husband's needs, takes p a r t i c u l a r care of her children and runs her home e f f i c i e n t l y g i -ven the means she has. I t also implies c e r t a i n personal c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s such as generosity and kindness, honesty, and hard work. The term has a further t r a d i t i o n a l reference to the important taboos and behaviour 24 a Squamish girl needed to know from puberty on in order to become an honorable and reputable person. Such concepts involved the practice of chastity, fidelity, fertility and a host of similar characteristics. A good Squamish man met similar criteria placed upon male behaviour. A good Squamish person today is one who knows the Squamish ways of doing the proper thing in any circumstance. Proper Behaviour: This term has a broad referent which de-mands that individuals behave in the defined Squamish ways which are considered acceptable in a variety of circumstances. The same behaviour may be evaluated differently under different circumstances. A man may be acceptably or properly drunk on a Saturday night in the bar or in his home. The same behaviour on the same night is highly improper i f he enters the smokehouse and embarrasses his extended family or dis-rupts proceedings. Big Name Person or Family: A big name family is one in which members have a claim to names which have prestige within the Salish area or within the local Squamish area. The bigness of a name is rela-tive depending on the occasion and the area in which i t is used. Big names at an event in Capilano may not be so big at an event in Lummi. On a daily basis, the self-definition of bigness is individually deter-mined by internal reference, however. An individual with a big name is expected to live up to his name by behaving properly in any circumstance. No Name Families: Those families or individuals who have no claim to names in the judgement of families who claim big names. Most of the families with such a:designation do not attempt to lay claims to 25 names or to other r i t u a l property. Part of a child's socialization is learning which names he may have the right to inherit. Those People: A term of reference to Squamish people outside the self-defined inclusions of the group of people reckoned as relatives and friends by the speaker. Relatives and Friends: Those people who can trace a genea-logical link to the speaker or who have a well-established and recog-nized social relationship with him. Strangers: Any one not defined as a relative or friend. Ritual terms are defined in Chapter III but some general def-initions may be of use here. Smokehouse: The place where r i t u a l events take place. Alter-nate terms are bighouse which traditionally meant a dwelling but which in current usage means the cedar buildings where r i t u a l events are held. A more recent term also in use is longhouse. Smokehouse is heard most generally. Dancer: An individual who has been initiated as a s p i r i t dancer; a new term used locally is singer. Baby: A new dancer who is in the f i r s t year of dancing and undergoing socialization as an i n i t i a t e . Babysitter: A relative or friend who stays with the i n i t i a t e throughout his f i r s t dance season. Spirit Power: The quality of the s p i r i t hosted by the dancer which enhances his positive characteristics and behaviour. 26 S p i r i t Song: The chant used by the dancers to demonstrate the presence of s p i r i t power; the song i s personal property. Indian Doctor: A senior dancer who has curing power e s p e c i a l l y f o r s p i r i t u a l i l l n e s s and d i s t r e s s ; he can also cure physical i l l n e s s . Curer: An i n d i v i d u a l with strong personal power who can a l l e -v i a t e the phy s i c a l i l l n e s s of another i n d i v i d u a l ; he does not cure s p i r -i t u a l i l l n e s s e s . A new term recently heard for this category of person i s a worker, that i s , someone who "works on" the i l l n e s s of an i n d i v i -dual. Speaker: An i n d i v i d u a l who speaks on behalf of an extended family at formal events such as a reception or funeral or at r i t u a l events i n the smokehouse. The speaker can also be the family host acting for the corporate group; he need not be, but often i s , a dancer. Methodology In 1968, I approached the Squamish Band Manager to request him to discuss with the Band Council whether a health survey might be of value to the Band. Dr. Termansen and I agreed to c o l l e c t any i n f o r -mation that the Councillors might f e e l was of value to them; we were pri m a r i l y interested i n mental health. We also offered to meet with Band Council and other Band members when the study was completed and to submit recommendations to them about improving health care services and f a c i l i t i e s . The vote on the project was taken at midnight at a Council meeting three months a f t e r our i n i t i a l request to do the study. No one 27 with whom we had consulted was there to speak about i t with the result that the decision was negative. In an attempt to ascertain the rea-son for rejection, and to determine whether the matter might be re-considered, Gloria Webster and I visited some of the Councillors and other Band members. Two Councillors agreed to raise the matter again, as they f e l t the project had not been carefully considered and might be of value to the Band. They did so, and at their next meeting, the Council voted unanimously in favor of allowing us to proceed. The health survey was completed in 1969. After general i n -formation was collected and a few family studies were done on a more specific basis, the report was circulated to a l l families at Capilano; the Council held a Band meeting to discuss the findings and recommen-dations. Half of the survey participants, and about ten other Band members, attended the meeting. Comments were received from other par-ticipants as I saw them from time to time in subsequent months. At the time the study was completed I requested permission from the Band Manager to remain on the reserve to continue the family studies. I had already received agreement from five families at Capi-lano to participate on a weekly interview basis. I explained that I wanted to learn about and observe child-rearing practices. Since I had a child of my own who was known on the reserve by several families, this was not viewed as an exceptional interest or request. By this time also, I had made some friends and they were willing to have me in their homes on a casual basis. The usual assurances concerning confi-dentiality were given and have been observed. This was no problem ex-28 cept when i t came to thesis writing; some significant data have had to be omitted because of their personal nature and because individuals could too easily be identified. One major problem of writing has been my increased reluctance to write anything about people I have come to admire and respect so ful l y . The family studies were carried out in a variety of ways. I visited the selected families for a minimum of two hours weekly. Some-times v i s i t s stretched through an afternoon; some included meals; some observations were made while participating in a family activity which went on for a number of hours. In general, only the mother and c h i l -dren were present. I made an attempt to discuss socialization with fathers but these attempts were seldom successful. Often, while v i s i t -ing with a mother, the children's grandparents or other relatives would come to v i s i t . Such occasions gave me the opportunity to s o l i c i t in-formation from these extended family members; these contacts sometimes resulted in an invitation to also v i s i t in their homes. In i n i t i a l v i s i t s , I attempted to direct conversation to spe-c i f i c child-rearing practices and philosophies. As I became more fami-l i a r with this material, I was able to e l i c i t information on "ideal" goals which were part of the Squamish ideology. I found that people evaluated their own practices not in terms of their results in the d i -rection of children's behaviour but in terms of how members of oppos-ing groups did not follow similar and "proper" practices. I also sought to identify generational differences in socialization goals and procedures; this was facilitated by the fact that some families had three or more generations living in the area. 29 By using a check l i s t , T was able to obtain information on the same topics from each family. I attempted to regulate my obser-vations on several phases of behaviour by concentrating on one or two items each v i s i t . Since I was i n the area f o r almost f i v e years, I was also able to continue informal discussions, to observe the growth and development of some of the child r e n , and to note reactions to changes i n m a r i t a l status of parents, the transiency of r e l a t i v e s i n the house-hold, and any other s i g n i f i c a n t changes i n l i f e - s t y l e . In the process of c o l l e c t i n g data from f a m i l i e s , my status i n the community changed; t h i s affected my access to some homes. I t r i e d to s e l e c t families for the study so as to include young and old parents, d i f f e r e n t socio-economic groups, members of the various fac-t i o n s , and such related factors. Some i n d i v i d u a l s refused to p a r t i c i -pate i n the intensive family studies. This altered the p o s s i b i l i t y of c a r e f u l s e l e c t i o n . Since I had already been on the reserve f o r a year c o l l e c t i n g data, I had made some friends and some enemies. The l a t t e r were automatically eliminated from the sample and the former did not represent the Band although they did represent d i f f e r e n t age and economic groups. As friendships became more meaningful, i t became easier to spend more time with c e r t a i n people than others. I t also meant that I could involve the extended family of a few i n d i v i d u a l s . This provided me with enough work to eliminate the necessity of seeking out other f a m i l i e s . The data I have, therefore, are highly s e l e c t i v e and perhaps somewhat biased. The obvious bias i s the female one; I was completely 30 unsuccessful i n obtaining information on s o c i a l i z a t i o n from adult males. I did, however, observe male behaviour among chi l d r e n and adults. The bias i s valuable since i t made me more aware of the d i f -ferences i n treatment of children by male and female parents. I t also made me more s e n s i t i v e to the i n t e r a c t i o n between males and females i n general. The other bias i s that the data were s o l i c i t e d from friends i n the aStensive family studies; t h i s may have affected the nature of the information given as w e l l as my i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of i t . My judgement i s that the information was f r e e l y and honestly provided. The main c r i t i c i s m of the analysis may be that i t i s somewhat defensively p o s i -t i v e . In the spring of the second year of my research, a major event took place which greatly altered my status i n the community. I was "recognized" as a member of the Charlie family. My grandfather, Dominic C h a r l i e , announced at the l a s t r i t u a l gathering of the year that my daughter and I were to be recognized as h i s grandchildren and treated accordingly. He and my grandmother, Josie C h a r l i e , paid Band elders to witness the announcement. Since then, I have learned to behave appropriately at a number of r i t u a l events and i n a v a r i e t y of s o c i a l gatherings. I meet the r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s placed on me as though I were a daughter, and I am treated l i k e a s i s t e r by Dominic's c h i l d r e n : Barbara, S a l l y , and Steve. In the same way, my daughter, Sandra, f u l -f i l s her obligations and values her s p e c i a l status. My daughter, Taanis, i s also treated l i k e a family member but her status i s d i f f e r e n t since I had not yet adopted her when the announcement was made. She does not enjoy the p r i v i l e g e s accorded to Sandra. 31 The announcement of my new status followed several months of close association with the Charlies. The process of tertiary sociali-zation which I underwent was not smooth; nor was i t facile. I do not plan to describe i t here because i t is a personal experience. It did provide me with many insights into my topic, however. As a result my data, as well as my l i f e , have been enriched. The change in status did not automatically bring me acceptance by members of the extended family, or by others in the community. In some cases, people who ig-nored me previously were no longer free to do so because of the depen-dency of their status on proper behaviour. In order not to insult my grandparents, people had to recognize me at certain times such as r i t -ual gatherings. At other times they were free to greet me or not; some chose to do so! My daughter and I found that our ^relationships with several families altered perceivably. Children with whom Sandra used to play no longer stayed around the area when she appeared. Instead, she began to accompany her cousins to various activities, and to remain within her grandparents' yard. She began to undergo a second process of socialization. Some of the people with whom I had previously been friendly, and in whose homes I had been free to visit, attempted to dissuade me from spending time with the old people and their associates. When i t became clear that I was committed, they stopped acknowledging me at a l l ; I have not been in any of their homes since 1971. Although the factionalism operates stringently, the balance remains relatively stable. I lost some friends but gained others. 32 At the time that I was acknowledged as a member of the Charlie family, I had completed my formal period of research on the reserve. Since then, I have added to i t by observation and discussion. During the summer of 1971 my grandfather spent a month with us in Calgary. During that time, he instructed my children and myself in a number of ways. We had ample opportunity to discuss the changes which had oc-curred in his lifetime in child-rearing, in marital relationships, in parent-child relationships, and in many ideological things. As a member of a family, I became exposed to many situations, a l l of which increased my knowledge and some of which forced me to al-ter my ways so that I would not shame my relatives. Although Barbara is nominally my aunt, we share the concerns of sisters, and I have appreciated her friendship and help through the past few years. I have also learned from her children. With Barbara, and later with Sally, I have learned what it is to be a contemporary Squamish woman and mother. We have shared many thoughts about socialization. I am not a Squamish by virtue of my family alliance but I have learned some of the values attached to being a good Squamish; I have also learned to laugh and tease; I have learned the comfort of being part of a women's group. I do not share identical experiences with my family, even when we are in the same circumstances; but I have learned to perceive some of the essence and to translate i t into my terms to pass on to my children. Such transactions are rich in warmth and reciprocity even i f they are not equivalent in perception of content and process. 33 CHAPTER I GENERAL SOCIO-HISTORICAL FEATURES OF CONTEMPORARY  SQUAMISH SOCIAL ORGANIZATION Contemporary reserve society at Capilano is structurally very diverse. This is a direct result of the internal and external events which occurred as the reserve system was established and as people res-ponded to urbanization. This chapter will refer selectively to the historical events which the Squamish people feel have played a signifi-cant part in determining the present structure and composition of the Capilano reserve. External events include the development of Vancouver, the shift from a subsistence to a cash economy, the establishment of reserves, and of a mission and residential school, land rentals and de-velopment, the introduction of federal health and welfare schemes, and the amalgamation of the Squamish-speaking reserves. The information on internal responses leading to cultural change and to the contemporary structure of the reserve has been ob-tained from elderly informants at Capilano. In addition, accounts of the same events have been obtained from young people. The younger peo-ple base their reactions and behaviour on their perception of events which they have experienced and frequently also on their interpretation of those events which have been described by parents and grandparents. The configuration of events, and their reflection in contemporary be-haviour, seldom reflect any accuracy of historical fact. What attitudes and behaviour more often reflect is a reaction to reinterpreted histor-34 i c a l fact. Therefore, I w i l l report the Squamish interpretations of historical events without attempting to report other viewpoints. Prior to discussing the contemporary patterns of l i f e at Capilano, i t i s useful to consider some of the earlier patterns which contributed to patterns of l i f e at Capilano at present. Information on traditional l i f e is drawn from the literature and from accounts of the recent past given by elders in the Capilano community. The pers-pective reflected i s that of the Squamish from whom the information was obtained. Traditional Squamish Society The starting point of any narrative regarding the past i s usually some point in the early childhood of senior storytellers who range in age from 70 to 97 years. Allowing for some time distortion in such narratives, and for some romanticising of the past, the accounts present a picture of l i f e in the bighouses which concur with those re-corded by Barnett (1955) and others. The Squamish people occupied a large territory at the time of contact. People travelled over the area in extended family groups from summer camps to winter villages. Summer was spent fishing, berry-ing, and gathering roots for the winter; f a l l was spent in hunting and food processing. In winter several extended families gathered in per-manent villages at the mouths of the rivers and on the beaches. Winter was also the time for r i t u a l gatherings and elaborate vi s i t i n g and entertaining. 35 The principles of social organization among the Squamish were primarily cooperative. While individuals did own certain proper-ties, most notably names, masks, songs and dances, the economic a c t i -v i t i e s of the group required cooperation among kin groups. Housing arrangements were communal although families lived in distinct areas and owned their house boards and a variety of household effects. A typical domestic group in a bighouse consisted of a man and his marital family, his brothers and their families, possibly a daughter and her family, and occasionally male cousins and their families. There were no p o l i t i c a l chiefs but a senior man in the bighouse provided guidance and protection. He acquired and maintained great respect, authority, status, and prestige by providing adequately for the members of his large household. Status was primarily acquired through industry, gen-erosity and dignity. The most prestigious people were also the wealth-iest . Such individuals could command the services of a large number of people who provided them with fi s h , game,'roots and berries, which could then be redistributed, so enhancing the reputation of the house-hold head (Barnett, 1955). Power was linked to social status and this was linked to wealth. The head of a bighouse had no power over other heads or mem-bers of the village unless he established i t through some activity in which his prowess was recognized by his peers. A man who was an ex-pert hunter might acquire leadership in hunting; he would determine where people went and how they hunted. The same man would not have similar power when the fishing season was in process unless he also 36 was the best fisherman in the area. Roles s status, and power shifted seasonally, therefore, within the village but remained relatively consistent within the individual bighouse. An outward manifestation of wealth was property which could be displayed. Real property consisted of houses and their furnishings and also of hunting and fishing equipment. Families tended to use cer-tain hunting and fishing areas exclusively, even i f cooperatively. Clamming areas were open to a l l ; root and berry plots were held by individual families. Weapons, blankets, masks, dancing equipment, and r i t u a l knowledge were individually owned (Barnett, 1955; Drucker, 1963). Inheritance followed descent lines which were bi l a t e r a l . Primogeniture was the expressed rule in the inheritance system and sons were favored. However, personal aptitudes and qualities were often the actual basis upon which hunting, technical, and r i t u a l knowledge and property was passed down. For example, i f an individual were not considered to have the personal characteristics suitable for occupying an honorific position or name, the rules of primogeniture were ignored in order to pass those privileges to the next of kin who had the requi-site personal characteristics. Property and privileges could also be acquired through marriage. There were no rigidly proscribed mates; f i r s t and second cousins were not considered marriageable. Marriage could occur between housemates as well as among people from different Salish villages. The system of Salish endogamy with local exogamy was preferred. Such arrangements enhanced the economic system and provided for persistence of intervillage ties (Suttles, 1963). 37 Among the Squamish, individuals were ritually protected at critical times of the l i f e cycle. The most elaborate and important rituals were those of purification which took place at birth, at death, at female puberty, and at spirit dancer initiation as well as at cer-tain types of curings. Isolation of the female at the menarche and at childbirth was practiced; at such times women were secluded either behind screens in the bighouse or they were housed in separate huts in the woods. Ritual events were supervised by an older person with spe-cial knowledge who was paid by members of the family to perform such services. Following any period of ritual isolation, i t was mandatory for the family to publicly announce the individual's change in status. The gathering held to announce the new relationship of the individual to his group always involved the distribution of wealth. This was the recognized mechanism by which public announcement could be made and i t was the only means by which change could be witnessed by the important people from a l l the villages. People without access to wealth had no means of publicly demonstrating their position in society. Because i t was impossible for an individual to personally own al l the goods needed for such ceremonies, an individual host called on his affinal and consanguineal kin groups to help finance such gath-erings. They helped by lending blankets and by providing food and personal services. Relatives then called on each other to repay debts which they had acquired and to reciprocate services rendered. People maintained social control in a variety of ways; the primary one was gossip. There was institutionalized avoidance of open conflict. Conflict was dealt with ritually. On a daily basis, i f a 38 person could not live affably within the extended family, he (or she) could claim kin ties in a number of other bighouses and seek accommo-dation there. In this way, a person removed himself from intolerable personal friction. A person who broke a rule, or who behaved inappro-priately, was gossiped about. Other people came to know about the mis-demeanor and shame was cast upon the extended family. People believed that children and adults should be taught by elders how to behave properly on a l l occasions. Redress for inappropriate behaviour could be made ritually. For example, i f a son had not lived up to his name, then his father, or grandmother, or any high-status relative could sponsor a gathering, apologize to the offended parties and pay for the insult. The issue was resolved in this way at least for the time. Grandparents were responsible for educating grandchildren about proper behaviour; this included ritual behaviour. Parents left their children with older relatives while they were occupied in har-vesting and other economic pursuits. Since a l l lived in the bighouse, children were also exposed to the admonitions of many relatives. In general, parents had l i t t l e direct involvement in rearing children during the traditional period. People believed that until individuals reached a considerable age they did not know how to behave. Therefore, young parents (and particularly wives who had married-in) were under constant supervision and evaluation by senior members of the household. There was constant emphasis on "knowing how to behave," "living up to one's name," "becoming a good woman" throughout the lifetime of any individual. Part of this learning was the acquisition of ritual know-39 ledge and becoming familiar with one's place and position in certain events. For example, a boy who was to inherit his grandfather's name and r i t u a l privileges was expected to be more observant and sensitive during r i t u a l events than one who had no such claim. A person also learned "private morality and knowledge" (Suttles, 1960) which helped him to recognize people of different status than himself and to behave differently toward them. Such knowledge also defined for the i n d i v i -dual his status in the group and the appropriate behaviour attached to i t . In summary, the traditional Squamish constituted a group in which there were concepts of worthiness differentiating categories of people. There was no clear-cut ranking system among the Squamish a l -though people were assigned a status position at birth. Those who be-longed to the high-status families were expected to l i v e up to their names and to behave appropriately. The c r i t e r i a of appropriateness included concepts of industry, generosity, and responsibility. Appro-priate behaviour also required familiarity with many rules, consider-able knowledge of kin, and knowledge of behaviour suitable to daily interaction as well as at special r i t u a l events. People lived i n bighouses on the beaches and at the mouths of the rivers during the winter months. In the summer, family groups moved to fishing grounds and to areas with root and berry patches. There was continuing contact among local groups as they travelled and traded. The economy of the Squamish was dependent upon the circulation of goods and on the exchange system which was institutionalized and 40 manifest during the winter gatherings. The arrival of the whites pre-cipitated many changes. Urbanization Begins In the early 1800's Simon Fraser discovered the river now known as the Fraser. The Hudson's Bay Company established the Fort Langley post in 1827 and Fort Victoria was established in 1843. In the next decade, considerable immigration of whites into the area took place as the presence of gold on the Fraser River became known. These events, while bringing the Indians into contact with explorers and miners, did not immediately change the living patterns of the Indian groups. The changes began with the establishment of the New Westmin-ster settlement in 1860. It became the port of arrival for immigrants and the major distribution center for the Interior. In 1863, the first sawmill was opened. It was located on Burrard Inlet and ultimately became known as Moodyville. Many of the older men s t i l l living on the Northshore, or at Squamish, obtained their first employment in the mill at Moodyville and later across the Inlet at the Hastings Mill. The latter became the small city center from which Vancouver evolved. The Squamish also began to earn a cash income from working in the newly-established canneries and from selling fish to them. Such employment drew in the Squamish people of Howe Sound. Employment was seasonal and families travelled as units to the employment sites. They substi-tuted work in the canneries for their summer fish encampments and occu-41 pations. At the same time, they continued their traditional fishing patterns as well as their gathering of foods. The establishment of the urban commercial centers raised the question of allocation of land. This did affect the lives of the local Indian people. Reserves had been established by Douglas ear-l i e r although he had l e f t the Province by the time the Squamish land issues arose. The amalgamated Squamish tribes had 28 reserves a l l o -cated in the area of Burrard Inlet and Howe Sound. A description of the Northshore reserves as they existed in the early 1900's is appended. An entry on June 21, 1915 shows that Capilano (Kapilano) became reserve number five. It consisted of 425.50 acres- occupied by approximately 265 people. The village site included the homes of the people, a Roman Catholic church, and a fishing station at the mouth of the Capilano River. The area was already accessible by road, r a i l and water and was valued at $359,000. This figure was exceeded only by the value of the acreage at the Mission reserve (No. 1) and the unoccupied False Creek reserve (No. 6) under negotiation. The people who lived at Capilano originated from a variety of places within the Squamish area. They had moved from their ancestral 1 grounds, from the beaches, and from "up Howe Sound." Descendents of a l l these people s t i l l inhabit the Capilano reserve. The people from Seymour Creek relinquished their land as did the people known as the "West Vancouvers." This West Vancouver area was included in the o r i g i -1. Currently, Lumberman's Arch in Stanley Park. 4 2 rial Capilano reserve but came to be known by the local Squamish as the "West Van" reserve after the two sections were separated by the First Narrows Bridge (Lion's Gate) (see Map 1). Apart from the several reserves in the Howe Sound area, the main reserves now inhabited by the Squamish are at Mission and Capilano. While the people at the Mis-sion reserve (frequently referred to as the "North Van" reserve) and at Capilano maintain f a i r l y close contact with each other, the Bur-rard people are apart as a result of their decision to stay separate 2 when the other Squamish-speaking groups amalgamated in 1923. The re-lationships between the people at Mission and Capilano are extremely close. In general, they consider themselves "the same people" a l -though they continue to make local distinctions when asked where they are from. The term "Squamish" has come to be used locally in relation to the people from Mission, Capilano, and those from the reserves l o -cated in the Howe Sound area. Events Attached to the Introduct ion of the Indian Act The Indian Act of 1867, the land settlements negotiated by the Commissions during the 1800's and early 1900's, when combined with urbanization and development in the Vancouver area, changed the lives of the Squamish people. The Act defined who Indians were, the condi-tions by which reserves could be administered, and in general set out the terms under which Indians could li v e their lives. Under the terms 2. It should be noted that the Burrard people had only recently become a Squamish-speaking group. MAP 1. N o r t h V a n c o u v e r R e s e r v e s 44 of the Act, 16 Squamish-speaking local groups amalgamated into a Band in July of 1923. Since the local groups had consisted primarily of extended families, the amalgamation meant a considerable change in the nature of political relationships of individuals to each other. The political system established by the Act required an administrative unit of a chief and council for legal and practical purposes. The 3 Act provided for hereditary or elected chiefs to administer any legal unit, such as the reserves, occupied by the amalgamated group. The Squamish opted to appoint the senior heads of the households as their "chiefs." The position became hereditary and people now talk about "hereditary chiefs" meaning the senior sons of the extended family 4 heads at the time of amalgamation. This pattern of forming a council of "hereditary chiefs" persisted until the Act was revised in 1951. The revised Act eliminated reference to hereditary chiefs. Neverthe-less, i t remained the practice among the Squamish for family groups to elect their members to council. The composition of the present Council reflects the voting power of the larger families which have the most members eligible to elect their kin. No longer are a l l major family groups represented. Descriptions of Squamish l i f e as i t was when the Act came into being, and when land arrangements were made, indicate that the 3. Until the 1951 revisions which mention only the election of chiefs. 4. The Squamish Band Council s t i l l has 16 councillors making i t unique in Canada. Usually, the number of councillors is determined by the population, e.g., one councillor is allowed for every 100 peo-ple in the Band. 45 Salish had a well-established and viable social system. The system of beliefs penetrated the fabric of everyday l i f e and provided sanctions for economic and r i t u a l a c t i v i t i e s . The residence patterns, combined with the marriage alliances, provided individuals with a stable socio-economic system. The large winter gatherings combined features of eco-nomic, social, and religious organization and seemingly met the needs of the local people. The move to reserves, the shift to a cash eco-nomy and the restrictions of the Act served as barriers to continued traditionally-based social progress. Such innovations added new dimen-sions to the Squamish social system. As a result, some overt aspects of Squamish l i f e underwent considerable change, for example, the r e l i -gious and economic systems. As in most processes of social change, parts of the culture remained relatively unchanged and ultimately be-came anachronistic to contemporary l i f e styles. Such uneveness of change contributed to the ideological and p o l i t i c a l factionalism found in the community at present. Agents of Social Change One of the major agents for change was the Roman Catholic Church. It established a mission and a residential school on the Mis-sion reserve in 1898 and built churches at Mission (1866) and Capilano. The mission provided service to a l l the Squamish people in a variety of ways. 46 5 Missionization of the Squamish Capilano people report that the clergy exerted considerable pressure on them to abstain from participating in Squamish rituals. The missionaries regarded the rituals as contrary to Christian beliefs and practices. They viewed the economic distribution which took place at ritual gatherings as contrary to good Western economic practices. The pressure applied by the local clergy was successful in diminishing ritual activities and especially spirit dancing for a number of years; i t did not eliminate i t entirely except in a few communities (e.g., Burrard and Sechelt). The current revival of ritual gatherings and spirit dancing in particular will be discussed in Chapter III. It is important to note here that the revival of Squamish rituals is suppor-ted most strenuously by those adults who spent several years in resi-dential schools when they were children. There they were taught how evil their own religious and social affairs were. The strength and bitterness with which some people are reviving their ritual complex attests to the success of the missions in communicating their messages about the negative aspects of being Indian to the children. One of the features of the Squamish belief system is that i t can encompass divergent features without dichotomizing them. The Squamish religious background into which the Catholic missionaries came was not greatly dissimilar to the Christian one but it was broader. The Squamish perceived the universe as unitary; there was free passage 5 . Squamish rituals are discussed fully in Chapter III. 47 for humans, animals, and spirits in any of the existing realms. This background enabled many Squamish people to attend Catholic services and also to continue to participate in their own rituals. This uni-tary purview was not shared by the priests who continued to press the Squamish, especially through their children, to give up their own prac-tices and participate solely in the Catholic ones. Most of the Squamish 6 people converted to Catholicism. Throughout the Salish area, people kept their own rituals operative on a less conspicuous scale. The greatest involvement of Salish people in continuing their own religious 7 practices is reported for Kuper Island and some Vancouver Island groups. Others, like the Burrard people, gave them up entirely and are not currently involved in the re-emergence of ritual activities in various local areas. To educate a generation of people away from their parents, especially when the socialization process is in direct conflict with that of the parents, undermines the persistence of important cultural values. The socialization process in the bighouse was carried out by close kin who had significant relationships with young children. The socialization process of the residential schools was carried out by strangers, not relatives. The strangers' values were in opposition to some basic values of the Squamish culture. For example, use of the Squamish language and participation in ritual events was prohibited. 6. Lemert (1954) notes that Indian groups tended to convert as units rather than as individuals. 7. By some Capilano dancers. 48 The schools also brought different categories of people into contact; at home, they would not have had contact with each other. Many older Squamish people complain about the inappropriate or difficult marriages of their children. They attribute these difficulties to the fact that their children met mates in school whom they would not have met had they remained at home in the protection of the extended family group-ings. Reports about schooling from the people who were among the first students in the early residential schools are primarily negative. Much of the anti-white sentiment that is expressed today is based on feelings about early childhood encounters with missionaries — the first whites that most children had seen. The frequency of the tales, despite their local variations, attests to their influence. In some instances one senses that some of the tales have become somewhat like myths — stylized and told for certain generalized effects and purposes rather than reporting events that actually happened. Such tales con-vey the misery remembered by the current parent generation as a result of their residential school experience. In essence, the tales center on the trauma of having learned in early childhood years that one was a worthy and important person within the community only to have the belief destroyed by whites who denied the worth of anything Indian. The children soon gained a sense of unworthiness on the sole ground that they were Indian. This perception was carried into their adult lives, often receiving confirmation in other white-Indian settings. 49 Some basic Squamish values unfortunately aided the negative-ness of the mission input. For example, one person reported that she had always been able to believe and trust adults and felt that when they said something i t was absolutely true. She assumed when she went to the mission school that the adults there also spoke the truth. Therefore, when she was told that she must give up her Indian language, customs, and ideas because they were wrong, she believed the teachers. The harshness of the discipline administered if one used the local language reinforced her conviction that being an Indian was a bad thing to be. However, since she was an Indian she felt she couldn't do any-thing except "feel bad about i t ; I really believed that I was a bad person." This sense of unworthiness persisted for many years after she left the school. It was reinforced by tales of cousins and sisters who felt the same way and by other negative experiences with whites in the community. It is only now, in her late forties, when she wants to give her children some sense of dignity and pride in the family and in themselves, that she has begun to re-evaluate the feelings she has about her own worth. Her case is not unique and was reported many times over. By the time that the first generation of children had been raised out of the bighouses and had spent three or four years in resi-dential school, other changes occurred in the Capilano community. The introduction of a cash economy was a significant change which contribu-ted to other changes in li f e style. 50 A New Economy for the Squamish The Squamish continued to exploit their environment; these natural products decreased in importance as items of ritual exchange or as items on which their subsistence depended. At the same time, wages from employment became the basic source of income of the local communities. Most of the men found employment either at Moody's mill or at Hastings mill. When New Westminster and then Vancouver were estab-lished as major ports, longshoring was a major source of employment for the Indians. Some men also went to work in the woods as loggers but the occupation of choice was longshoring; that preference persists today. Indians were preferred as employees on the docks and subsequently have gained access to permanent labour unions, high wages as gang 8 bosses, and considerable status. Employment was sometimes seasonal. This permitted families to go berrying or fishing for supplementary income and food. Women's roles changed markedly as a result of cash employ-ment. Men left the household to work and the extended family ceased to be the economic unit. Generally, young mothers also stopped sea-sonal activities and became responsible for raising their own children. This was reinforced by the move to nuclear households. Women ceased to make any significant contribution to the household economy. Some women obtained seasonal work in the canneries. There was also some 8. See Philpott (1963) for a f u l l description of employment for the Squamish. 51 fishing and some crop picking done as family units. As theimarket for Salish (Cowichan) sweaters increased, women began to earn money as knitters. They also made baskets. Income from these activities sup-plemented the household economy. However, there was also a general pattern which allowed women to retain such funds for personal use. Continuing Traditional Trends in Contemporary Squamish Society Major shifts have occurred in the social organization of the Squamish people over the past 70 years. The economic shift from a collecting economy to a cash economy was made without undue difficulty and has yielded considerable material advantage to individuals and to those of the Squamish Band in particular. The shift, however, altered the exchange system within the Coast Salish area; the result was a change in personal and group relationships. For example, i t is easy for a household head to provide for extended family members if the circulation of food and other goods is based on a local land and sea economy and the system is closed. However, when the system is opened by the introduction of cash, and when cash is acquired primarily through the employment of males, then i t becomes difficult financially for a man to provide for more than his nuclear family plus a few other in-dividuals. Now, a Squamish male who is gainfully employed must con-sider even more carefully than in the past which kin he can provide for. This means that he must change some relationships with collater-als and affines i f the original relationship requires regular provision of food or cash. The idea of responsibility to kin alters considerably 52 and while one should lend money to some close kin, others have to be refused. Thus the whole system of recognizing kin, of making loans which could be repaid within large extended families, and of estab-lishing ritual claims, has had to be altered substantially. The f i -nancial costs of ritual events will be considered later. Suffice i t to say here that more individuals now have to forego their traditional claims to ritual property because they have not been able to amass 9 the wealth to finance an important gathering. The economic base at Capilano in 1967 was the cash income 10 of people in longshoring, millwork, logging, and transfer payments. Table 1 shows the occupation of the Capilano men in 1967, showing a distribution that is common for the Squamish people. Only union men are guaranteed regular employment and income. As a result, an indi-vidual's wages are good on a monthly basis but are not evenly spread throughout the year. Table 2 shows the income range of 26 heads of households. When Squamish people regrouped in nuclear households and gained a living from wages, they began to desire more material posses-sions obtainable only with cash. This was another reason why the eco-nomic shifts forced a reduction in the recognition of responsibility for kin. After people have bought necessities,they use their wages to 9. Individual accounts comparing the frequency and opulence of gath-erings held 50 years ago to those held currently a l l agree that past gatherings were "bigger" than current ones. These statements may not be factual nor can such reports be checked in detail. The evaluation must be accepted as it stands, therefore. 10. Old Age Pension, Family Allowance, Welfare, Band redistribution, etc. 53 TABLE 1 OCCUPATIONS OF 26 HEADS OF HOUSEHOLDS Occupation Number Longshoring 11 Millwork 4 Skilled trades'*- 4 2 Unskilled labour 2 Business owner 1 Other 3 4 1 . Fisherman, logger, autobody worker, carpenter. 2. Casual employment. 3 . Band Manager, carver, two retired. SHOWING MONTHLY INCOME TABLE 2 RANGE OF 26 HEADS OF HOUSEHOLDS Rang e Number 1 . Under $300 0 2 . $301 - 400 2 3 . $401 - 500 1 4 . $501 - 600 7 5 . $601 - 700 4 6 . $701 - 800 7 7. $801 - 900 1 8 . $901 - 1,000 1 9 . Over $1,000 o 1 1 . Overtime pay in longshoring raises some individuals from positions 4 through 7 to $1,200 - $1,500 in busy months. The household head who runs his own business, reported to bring his income to $20,000 annually, also receives over $1,000 in the summer months. 54 purchase items of furniture and luxury items such as cars and televi-sions. Table 3 indicates the material property of a sample group of families at Capilano. While freezers can be considered a profitable investment, since they are primarily used for storing fish and deer meat obtained without cash expenditures, the number of colour tele-visions shows the desire for luxury items as well. Such items rank high in the hierarchy of economic decisions. For example, $600 could be spent either on a colour television or on a naming ceremony for a child. Several families have colour televisions sets but few have had their children named even among the group of families with strong ritual orientation. With these shifts in the values and perceptions of the Squamish people, the previous values of sharing and responsib-i l i t y for less fortunate kin cannot easily prevail. Some of the expectations which formed the rationale for the traditional economic system s t i l l prevail in the cash economy and have altered to accommodate i t . What we see at Capilano is a dual system of status-wealth evaluation. The people who currently hold the political power are those people who have permanent jobs and who are able to accumulate wealth. However, power is not determined only by wealth since some Council members are not wealthy. Nevertheless, some.councillors are able to lend cash and perform other favours for kinsmen who repay the debt by voting en bloc. In this manner, wealth and political power become conjunctive. The expectations of Squamish people are that wealthy and powerful relatives will provide for them. This is a traditional concept and i t s t i l l prevails even though the 55 TABLE 3 SHOWING GENERAL INFORMATION ON 26 HOUSEHOLDS 1. Rents Range is from $0 to $50 monthly, deduc-ted from Band redistribution funds (less than 10% of income). 2. Income 3. Schooling 4. Nuclear Family Size Range is from $301 to $1,000 monthly; average $610 (see Table 2). Range is 0 to Grade XII. Average is Grade VIII; no significant difference between males and females under 35 years of age; over 35 years, females have an average of four years more schooling than males. Range is from 1-14 members; average is 6.03 members. 5. Utilities — A l l homes have heat, light and water. — 11 homes have space heaters; 15 have o i l furnaces. — A l l homes have refrigerators. — 11 homes have wood or o i l cookstoves; 15 have electric stoves. — 20 homes have wringer washers; re-mainder have none. — Only 4 homes have dryers. — Al l homes have television sets; 12 of these are colour sets. 6. Cars 23 families own a car but not a l l are in working order; of these, 3 families have two cars. 56 criteria for positions of power and the ways of accumulating wealth have altered significantly. The expectations of young people and the elderly are identical as they state them, but differ substantially in their origin. The e l -derly consider that their younger and powerful kinsmen should provide for them because "that is what the Squamish always did; that's the way we do i t . " Younger people, however, link support in elections with the expectation of being rewarded at an early date with some favour such as a job, use of a car, a new house, welfare, or related financial benefits. Strong resentments are aroused when such debts are not paid. As in traditional days, the individual who does not meet his perceived debts is gossiped about. However, he is also gossiped about if he does pay his debts in this fashion. ("Oh him — well what can you ex-pect; he only wants things for his family. He gave X welfare when Y couldn't get i t . What else can you expect from an X?"). Gossip occurs in any case but the difference is whether those gossiping are close kinsmen or from another extended family group. Also, as will be shown later, the social system is now considerably more diverse than i t was in the traditional and closed system. Gossip now serves only to make some people uncomfortable; i t has lost its strength as a method of social control since there is now no way to keep the system closed and to effectively isolate the errant individual. Another change in the social patterning of Squamish concern for kin and one which is directly affected by the economic changes is reflected in the current system of caring for relatives. In traditional 57 society, the Squamish provided for people unable to care for themselves. This accomplished several things: i t made the provider a good Squamish and increased h i s status; i t ensured that no one within the community suffered from cold or hunger. I t did these at the cost of r e i n f o r c i n g the negative image of the incompetent r e l a t i v e . As mentioned e a r l i e r , orphans were often a part of a man's bighouse. Children of r e l a t i v e s unable to care for them would be cared for by another branch of the extended family. In part, helpless c h i l d r e n are s t i l l cared for i n t h i s way i n contemporary Squamish society, but i t i s not common. The prevalent s i t u a t i o n i s that a few r e l a t i v e s care for c h i l d r e n and are paid by Band welfare funds to do so. Most c h i l d r e n have to leave 11 the reserve. E l d e r l y people sometimes l i v e i n the household of a daughter or a son but more people are going to h o s p i t a l s and nursing homes. Their b i l l s also are paid from the Band's welfare fund. Re-cently, a Band-operated home providing nursing care for the e l d e r l y has been established on the reserve. In the same way, the Band has decided recently that c h i l d r e n of unmarried mothers may be registered as Band members. The Band now provides welfare for both mother and c h i l d for s i x months, and for the c h i l d on a continuing basis i f the mother does not obtain employment. As a consequence, the e l d e r l y and very young have r e l a t i v e l y t r a d i t i o n a l means for beginning and ending t h e i r l i v e s within a family and reserve s e t t i n g . 11. In 1967, of 47 c h i l d r e n not l i v i n g i n t h e i r r a t a l homes, 6 were being cared for by r e l a t i v e s on the reserve; the remainder were i n white foster homes. 58 Patterns of residence which prevailed traditionally are re-flected in the tendency of brothers and first cousins to build their homes in clusters and to try to obtain space in the same area for their sons upon marriage. Women generally marry-in; they are often related to other women in the area because of the traditional pattern of mar-12 riage which is Salish endogamy but Band exogamy. As a result, sis-ters and cousins live in close proximity to each other. At present, only three households have a member of the grandparent generation in them; this does not conform to the traditional residential pattern of the bighouse. However, parents live close to their sons; as a result, adjacent generations do have considerable contact. Currently, grand-parents are not responsible for child rearing and seem to have l i t t l e direct control over their sons' households except in a few cases. Women of adjacent generations sometimes form strong alliances. In such cases, the grandmother exerts considerable influence on her daughter-in-law and her grandchildren. The traditional socializing role of the grandparents is present where such alliances exist. Men form alliances too. Male groups consist of brothers, fathers, and cousins of both generations. They tend to share occupations so the traditional pattern that men from an extended family work toge-ther has prevailed. For example, one longshoring gang is made up of a father, his three sons, and a nephew. More will be said about male 12. There are other variations which are becoming prevalent: Squamish women are marrying white men (R. Band (1971, p. 11) states that -C r~o.4Qnwomenimarriedeout over a period of 9 years). Band endogamy is also practiced (6). In three cases, white women have married-in. There are also 5 women from non-Salish Bands who have married-in. 59 and female alliances; for the moment, i t is only important to note that in spite of the reduction in kin recognition, alliances persist between kin who are close collaterals. These male groups and the fe-male alliances are extremely important in the maintenance of individual, family, and community stability. The Squamish changed from a traditional religion to Cathol-icism without undue difficulty. Some of the cultural features which facilitated the change were inherent in the Squamish belief system. Religion was a focal point of Squamish l i f e ; i t permeated a l l aspects of l i f e in one way or another. For example, the guardian spirits which individuals sought were believed to enhance their positive personal characteristics. If people acquired additional spirit help in daily activities they became wealthy and of high status. This meant they were able to be good Squamish by providing for others. A l l of the be-liefs about the universe, about their original ancestors, and about the necessity for indulging in placatory rituals were central to Squamish religion. Catholicism was also introduced as being central to the lives of good people. The concepts of generosity, industry and res-ponsibility are also inherent in Catholic dogma. Evidence of reliance on spirit helpers can be found in the tales of saints and guardian angels; the rituals for placating God and his assemblage are well documented. The Squamish understood these parallels and accepted them with facility. While the Squamish set out to complement their religious system, the missionaries set out to destroy i t in the belief that it could,have no place in Catholicism. The pressure placed on individuals to disavow 60 their religious activities is confirmed by many Capilano people. The Squamish adapted to Catholicism without, i t seems, the ready realiza-tion that their own religion would be diminished or destroyed. This resulted in serious cultural loss for them. The Squamish people cur-rently talk about the grief they felt in the years during which they could not have their winter rituals. And i t is especially the current generation of youth who express their bitterness at the fact that they have been "deprived" of learning their religion. They talk of the ways in which they can regain i t from grandparents who are s t i l l hesitant to instruct them in case they may offend the local clergy. Beliefs and traditions are difficult to erase. In spite of the impact of Catholicism on the people of Capilano, there is a strong residue of native beliefs even among the staunchest Catholics who s t i l l attend church. These are made explicit most often at times of bereaval but also appear in other contexts. The major impact of the missionaries was felt not only in the religious realm but also in the personal one. Children who were in residential school learned to equate statements about Indian culture with statements about themselves. For example, the lack of freedom to speak the local language, to see parents, to participate in ritual gath-erings when combined with statements about "savages" and "civilizing" people resulted in the individual formulating a negative and derogatory self-image. This will be detailed later but for the moment one need only note that the serious practice of Catholicism has not survived 61 13 many years. In contrast, individuals' negative concepts of self have lasted over 40 years; some may never be altered. In traditional society, curing was done by a number of indi-14 viduals. The Indian doctor was responsible for curing those i l l -nesses which were believed to be associated with the spirit world. In these cases, the doctor performed the curing ceremony in the presence of the family and often in the presence of a larger group. The doctor as well as older spirit dancers with special knowledge used ritual to-kens and their own spirit power to draw out evil objects and to restore individuals to health. Some individuals in the community had expert knowledge of local herbs, plants and roots which were of medicinal value. They used these for curing physical illnesses and for treating injuries such as lacerations, knife wounds, and broken bones. Currently, ritual medico-religious practices are being revived. In addition, Squamish Indians use local western medical resources available under the provin-cial medical health plan. Traditionally, social control was maintained primarily by pub-l i c knowledge, that is, people living in the close proximity of communal houses were familiar with the expectations of the society and the indi-vidual breaches of such expectations. Socialization was consistent and was reinforced in a variety of ways. It would have been impossible for an individual to have grown up in a bighouse without knowing what was 13. Most Squamish people are Roman Catholic but few at Capilano attend church or participate in Catholicism in any significant way. 14. I am using the English terms used by the Squamish people. 62 expected of him as a member of his particular family as well as know-ing the general rules attached to ritual activities and social events. The communality and the small size of the group provided relatively homogeneous orientation for group members. The diversity of the pre-sent situation has made some individuals uncertain about what is expec-ted of them and about what constitutes ideal behaviour. This condition is a reflection of the conflict between people who have varying degrees of acculturation and economic status. At each level, individuals define their own behaviour as "ideal" and reflect derogatively on varients practiced by others. The confusion for children emanates in addition from the practices suggested by church, school, and government person-nel . More Recent Significant Events Several events have occurred in the 1960's which have re-sulted in additional changes on the reserve at Capilano. The appoint-ment of a Band Manager in 1963 heralded the beginning of major control of reserve affairs by the Squamish people themselves. At the same time, this move reinforced the power of a Council which is not uniformly repre-sentativee of the people i t serves. The benevolence of Council is di-rected at a particular segment of Squamish society. For example, i t is easier for relatives of Council members to obtain housing, welfare, and other benefits. Such inequity crushes the hopes of a community who naively predicted that the appointment of an Indian person as an administrative officer would mean increased benefits for a l l . 63 Several federal-provincial agreements have been recently made in the areas of health, education, and welfare. The first provin-cial government contract in welfare services was made in 1965 in order to provide child protection services on the reserve. It was this con-tract which enabled the Band to pay relatives to care for children and to pay them the same amount that white foster parents would re-ceive in similar situations. The appointment of an Indian welfare worker to handle a l l welfare requests as well as child placement took place in 1966. The first appointee was a Cree who was treated as a stranger. She left after being on the reserve about eight months. An additional worker from the local reserve was appointed to develop youth and recreational programs. His role was confused with that of the social worker and as a result he was placed under severe strain by relatives who felt he failed to give as much to his expectant kin as to other people. In 1965 the local federal (and Catholic) day school was closed down and a l l Capilano children were obliged to attend the local public schools. Parents offered comments on why the local Catholic schools refused to enter into any agreements for the education of the local Indian children. Many parents feel that the resistance to admitting Indians into the local Catholic schools was a reflection of the con-tinued negative perception of Indians by clergy. One person explained: "It's a l l right to have Catholic school on the reserve but they don't want us mixing with their nice religious white kids. Well, i t doesn't matter; the public school is better anyway and I'm glad that's where my kids are now. I wasn't very happy at first but now I wouldn't change 6 4 them to the Catholic school anyway." The major complaint of Capilano parents was not that they opposed integrated education but that a major change affecting their lives was once again made without consul-tation. It should also be noted that in the two years prior to its closure, the reserve church school had provided time and space for cul-tural activities such as craft classes, Indian dancing, and language classes. These were a l l taught by the local Squamish people. Originally, health care was provided to reserve residents through the regional office of the Indian Health Services which was located in Vancouver. Clinic hours were from 2:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m., five days a week. Indian people who became i l l during the night or on weekends were not able to contact doctors or obtain advice or treat-ment unless their illness was so acute that i t forced them to go to 15 the emergency clinic of the contract hospital. Since the federal doctor did not come to the reserve, the difficulty of getting to his office was often overwhelming, especially for young mothers with many children who were unable to find babysitters or to afford transporta-tion across town. As a result, health services were utilized only for acute situations and many individuals became acutely i l l unneces-sarily . Public health services were provided by contract with the provincial public health services; a public health nurse was assigned to the reserve for half-a-day a week. Reports show that in the i n i t i a l years of the contract the nurse did spend time on the reserve carrying 15. The only hospital authorized by Federal Health Services to admit Indian patients was St. Paul's in Vancouver. 65 out the usual public health activities. However, in the last three years, she has seen only the school children in the school nurse's office. When the hepatitis epidemic occurred in 1969 no public health officials visited the reserve, even after two deaths occurred. By comparison, in the wealthy British Properties (north of the reserve) there were fewer cases of hepatitis. Families there received visits and information from the public health officials and were given gamma globulin. Public health services continue to remain under contract to the reserve but the personnel have decreased services stating that they have no authority to act on the reserve and therefore may only advise. They feel that this incapacitates them to function adequately. In general, then, public health services are lacking. British Columbia entered the federal medicare plan in 1969, and this automatically made every British Columbia resident eligible for medical coverage. With the change from Federal services to Provincial services, the Squamish people became eligible for the same services as a l l other Canadians including choice of doctor and of hospital. The result has been that Squamish people now use local medical services at the same rates and 16 for the same reasons as do their white neighbours. Another/major event which occurred during the 1960's was the rental of reserve lands on the northwest side of the Fraser River. The rental of this land for a large shopping and apartment development resulted in increased income and good housing for the people who lived 16. Termansen and Ryan (1970). 66 on that reserve. Under contract with the Band, the municipality of West Vancouver pays a considerable sum of money for the lease which goes into Band revenues. In addition, at the initiation of the devel-opment of the complex, individuals were compensated for housing which they had on the West Vancouver reserve regardless of quality. Thus, some individuals who lived in one-room shacks on the creek obtained 17 between $6,000 and $8,000 to apply towards a new house. The people oh the West Vancouver reserve were then relocated at the Capilano re-serve. When this occurred, they obtained relatively large lots upon which to put their houses. Most of them bought old houses from the Vancouver area where freeways were going through and put them on new basements. The result is that the area where people relocated is a pleasant residential site with relatively large and attractive houses. This relocation was resented by the original Capilano residents who live in old, wartime housing which is currently condemned by the Band as well as by other official groups. Theoretically, the original mem-bers of the Capilano reserve were to get new housing as a result of in-creased Band revenues. However, this has not materialized. The re-sult is that extended families are split and, even where the kin link is irrelevant the splitting of the "haves" and "have nots" has been extremely rigid. At the moment, i t is important to note that the lease of the land and the subsequent acquisition of good housing have rein-forced the divisiveness among the Capilano people. 17. It has not been possible to check these figures; they are probably escalated by reporters. 67 It would be impossible to finish this chapter without a ref^. erence to the policy on Indians as proposed in the White Paper of the Department published in 1969. That Paper has so far served to bring together Indian bands from a l l over the Province C a s well as at a na^ tional level) to discuss the ramifications of implementing such poli^ cies. If these committees, such as the Union of British Columbia Indian Chiefs and the National Indian Brotherhood, succeed in remaining integrated and effective, that in itself will be an historical event of note. To date no national Indian organizations have been able to survive their own factionalism. This has reduced their power in negotiating with Federal government. At a more individual and social level, the considerations of the White Paper are seen by the Squamish as extremely threatening. If the stated policies were implemented, there would be a loss of legal status, of special services and privileges. Such threats cannot be viewed lightly. It is noteworthy that the individuals who have been chosen to respond on behalf of British Columbia.Indian groups are the young, educated Indians, whom the Bands feel can "speak to the whites." In addition, the Union :of C.British Columbia Indian Chiefs has hired lawyers and other resource personnel to provide them with the data they need to confront government officials. Most significant, however, is the threatened loss of identity and of "Indianness." Again, the White Paper may be the start of the process of merging historical feelings, observations, and frustrations. As well, i t may help young Indian people reassert their Indian identity, their rights, and their unwillingness to be manipulated by the Federal government. Since this 68 thesis focuses mainly on identity the question which the White Paper poses is a vital one; that is, if the White Paper policies are imple-mented, in what ways will Indians be able to continue to identify themselves as Indians? Summary It is obvious that certain historical events have contributed to the differentiation of structure and of interaction on the Capilano reserve. Several events stand out as significant ones which affected the perceptions, feelings, and l i f e style of the local Squamish people in many ways. Events such as the Indian Act, the establishment of reserves, and missionization have certain irreversible features which are not likely to be assuaged by implementing the 1969 Policy Paper on Indians. Federal-provincial agreements on health, education, and welfare have created a system of services characterized by certain restraints which have discriminated against Indians in general. Such restraints have inhibited the Indian people from obtaining services equal and similar to those provided for the majority of Canadians. The continuity which persists despite the shift from tradition-al patterns to contemporary ones is an important feature of Squamish social organization and one which i t is necessary to consider when eval-uating the effect of urbanization of the Squamish. Many changes are perceived as negative by a number of Squamish people. The people in power, however, tend to accentuate the positive effects of social change and to disregard the negative ones. 69 The traditional Squamish people held concepts concerning the relative worth of certain family names, extended family groups and individuals. Such concepts differentiated various categories of people although there was no clear-cut ranking system. Socialization was di-rected toward informing children about their status within the family and about the status of others. Attitudes and behaviour towards others were determined in major part by the knowledge an individual had about another's status. The system of residential schooling brought categories of people into contact who might otherwise have been kept apart from each other. As a result, the definition of status became unclear as the years progressed and individuals of certain status married the "wrong" category of person. As agents of social change, the school and church also disrupted the Squamish belief system, reduced the use of the Squa-mish language, and altered the process of socialization by removing children from their homes. Such occurrences account in major part for the attitudes of contemporary Squamish toward Catholicism and their own religion, toward marriage and fertility, toward whites and towards themselves. The shift from a collecting economy with a system of circulat-ing resources to a wage economy based on cash altered the range of kin for which any senior household head could provide. It also reduced the kin alliances of corporate family economic activity. This strengthened the nuclear family unit rather than the extended one; in some cases this was reinforced by the shift to nuclear households. 70 The patterns which are described for contemporary Squamish households in Chapter II il l u s t r a t e the effect of the legal, histor-i c a l and social factors discussed above. Y 7 ! 71 2 2 2 2181 214 "210 wa . St 2 8 0 2 7 0 ( ! 2 2 5 j 2 21 ' i ! 1 217 I 1 213 i 2 0 9 . 1 1 . 2 2 6 ' 2 2 2 1 2 18 1 i 214 J 2 lO i 1 — 2 01 250 2 4 0 G o l f C o u r s e AGE SIT E CAPILANO RESERVE B . C . Sc a U 7" = ? 80 0 MAP 2 •Co • 0 0 V 72 CHAPTER II CONTEMPORARY SETTLEMENT AND SOCIAL STRUCTURE  AT THE CAPILANO RESERVE The Physical Setting The Capilano Reserve is located south of Marine Drive in North Vancouver on the east side of Lion's Gate Bridge. No signs mark its boundaries or admonish the visitors that they are trespassing on Indian land. The reserve entries from the east and from the west sides bring the traveller into considerably different environments even though the distance between the two ends is only a matter of five or six city blocks. Entering from the east, one sees wide streets, large homes with fences and lawns, garages, and street lights. Entering by the west side, one sees dilapidated small houses, dusty, narrow roads, few street lights, no lawns and fences. The differences seen readily by the stranger walking through the reserve do not reflect a simple economic difference exhibited by the quality of housing. These geographical and economic features are symbolic of much deeper differences between residents which are part of a pervasive social and political patterning as well as the economic and 1 geographical ones. The two "sides" are geographical markers of a fac-tionalism that pervades the small reserve and one which reinforces con-1. Speakers from each side refer to the counterpart as "the other side." 73 siderable intergroup conflict. The conflicts are also sustained by the complexities of the class system, the existence of a power elite, and by the degree of traditional orientation and activity which members of each side share. There are 49 household heads living in 43 households on the reserve. (See Table 4 showing population distribution.) Of these,17 houses are in the old section. The pattern of residence is traditional in many aspects. Although households generally contain nuclear families, fathers and their brothers, as well as their sons and cousins, live in adjacent houses. Sometimes the streets are named for families as is the case where three brothers live in a row beside their widowed mother. Their sister's residence is displaced in the sequence by a cousin's house (See map 3 for an example of family linkages). The geographical division of the houses reflects the extended kin grouping of different families. The fact that the economic elite occupy one major segment of the "better" side is a constant and visible source of irritation to opposing extended families. The West Side This side of the reserve is known as the "old" section. It is made up of wartime houses, most of which hold a bedroom, bathroom and kitchen-living area. People have subdivided the units in a variety of ways so that some have separate kitchens and others have bedrooms. The floor space in most is approximately 600 square feet but in a few i t is only 400 square feet. Two or three families have added closed-in porches which serve as kitchens or bedrooms. All houses are heated with space 74 TABLE 4 ' SHOWING COMPARATIVE HOUSEHOLD POPULATION OF CAPILANO RESERVE (49) AND SELECTED SAMPLE (26) BY AGE AND SEX Age Range Sex 0-19 20-25 26-35 36-55 55+ Population at M 65 4 13 19 4 Capilano F 64 _7 10 18 _6 TOTAL 129 11 23 37 10 Selected sample M 48 9 11 7 5 population F 43 11 9 9 5 TOTAL 91 20 20 16 10 or wood heaters; none have basements. Seven houses are condemned by the Band and public health officials as unfit for human habitation. Two houses in this area burned down in the past three years and will not be replaced. Band Council plans to move people out of that area and to build them new houses on the golf course land when the lease expires within the year. Some of these small houses hold as many as 14 people and with the exception of two couples in retirement, a l l hold a minimum of six people. Rats can be seen at times and the muddy road combines with many unpainted exteriors to give a depressed and oppressive atmosphere. In contrast, many of the interiors have been painted or panelled; the in-terior atmosphere can be warm and gay. In other cases, interiors match exteriors and afford the occupants few pleasantries. MAP 3 Showing Kin-linked Residences. Gl (Generation I) WiMo Q2 ^ (Generation II) Bro [Ego] generation Children of Generation III (G4) have access to a l l households in Gl, 2, 3. 2 2 2 2 1 8 2 1 4 " 2 1 0 G2 La wa . St 2 8 0 G3 2 7 0 G2 2 2 5 2 2 1 2 1 7 2 1 3 i 2 0 9 G3 2 2 6 - 2 2 2 2 1 8 Gl , G3 2 1 4 2 l O P a i t s m a u k S t 2 2 5 1 2 2 1 2 1 7 H i " ' 2 2 6 1 2 2 2 2 1 8 ( 2 0 9 2 1 4 2 1 0 G3 • 2 0 1 2 5 0 2 4 0 I k — ^ G3 2 a o I 2 1 0 G2 G o l f C o u r s e VILLAGE SITE CAPILANO RESERVE B . C . Scale 7"-180 0 \ 7 6 Houses are owned by their occupants with a few exceptions where relatives are renting from the owner who may live elsewhere on the reserve or in town. The Band Manager stated that cost of the units to household heads was $1,200 about 20 years ago. They have been paid for at the rate of $25 per annum deducted from Band redistribution mon-ies. Although they are owned by the household head, the Band continues to service the houses and to repair plumbing, heaters, etc. Money is also available for paint and interior finishings if the household head is unemployed. If he is employed, then the Band lends him the money without interest to make improvements. Seven families on welfare live on the two streets fil l e d with these small houses. In contrast, only one family is on welfare on the other side of the reserve. The heads of three families in this area are whites; they are renting the houses from Band members who own them. Apparently the Band has no objection to such arrangements even though neighbours complain that whites are living on the reserve. The whites are men married to women from the Band which may explain the reluctance of Council to force them to move elsewhere. Two of the family heads on Mathias and River Roads are retired longshoremen. Six others currently are employed on the docks and one works for the Band. The remainder (10) are on welfare (4), employed casually and on welfare (3), or are too i l l to work and on compensation of various sorts (3) (see Table 1). Of the families on Mathias and River Roads, 10 claim to have traditional high status and have been given or have a claim to, "big 77 names." Of the current parent generation, eight couples have had their Indian names bestowed on them but only one family has held a naming ceremony for their sons. Daughters in that family have yet to have their names bestowed. Eight families attend smokehouse activities, and six families have at least one partner who is an initiated spirit dancer. One man has herbal knowledge and was a dancer when he was younger. He s t i l l attends the dances but never participates. His reasons for not participating relate to a heart condition and to his belief that things "are not done properly any more." Therefore, he would prefer not to be involved. He no longer practices herbal medicine except for crisis intervention within his immediate family. At the time of data collection, only one man from this side of the reserve was on Council, one was a lacrosse coach and one woman was head of the education committee. The lack of representation of this group on Council and on Band committees is noteworthy. Residence patterns in this area do not adhere to the more tra-ditional structure seen on the other side. Daughters rather than sons live beside their parents. Two white brothers live across from each other in rented houses; one of the wives lives beside her parents. The only other linkage is a small cluster of three houses where a man, his daughter, and his sister and their families occupy adjacent households. Of the 17 houses, five are rented to "outsiders," two of whom are the whites already mentioned. One house burned last year. One fire the previous year took the lives of four children but the house was repaired and is s t i l l occupied by the father and his three remaining children. 78 One would expect the residence pattern, and other features of l i f e on Mathias and River Roads, to be more integrated than they are because of the low level of involvement with Council and the rela-tively high level of involvement within the smokehouse. However, the 2 preferred pattern of marriage has not prevailed in this nucleus of big-name families. Daughters, rather than sons, are living beside their parents. Two sisters are living beside their brothers. In two cases, women are married to whites but living near their own parents. The rest of the group is constituted of strangers. In general, the material quality of l i f e on Mathias and River Roads is rather uniformly poor due to density of household population, low income, and lack of political power. The emotional quality of l i f e varies among households, sometimes in relation to income, but more commonly in relation to the capacity of the mother, and the rate of alcohol consumption of either or both parents. Since many of the household members are active in traditional activities such as canoe racing, spirit dancing, and the quasi-traditional lacrosse and hockey, 3 drinking tends to be sporadic. The economic aspect of drinking cannot be overlooked. It takes money to drink heavily and to hold parties frequently. Few people on Mathias and River Roads can afford to drink in any heavy amount or for many days. As well, three families in the area are firm members of Alcoholics Anonymous. 2. Band exogamy, partrilocal residence. 3. Drinking is prohibited for dancers during the ritual season (Novem-ber to March) and for participants when spring training for the canoe racing begins. 79 Children on these streets were both more friendly and more hostile than the children from the east side. On Mathias and River Roads I was always greeted either with curses or with open pleasure. The curses usually related to my refusal to take a child somewhere that he or she thought she should go. A typical instance occurred one day when a 5 year old trotted down the muddy street without shoes on to greet me. She then informed me that her shoes were wet and that she needed a ride to school tomorrow! I replied that I would not be on the reserve the next day to which she responded, "Fucking white man; you never do nothing for no one!" Apart from difficulty in considering her rage seriously, I was somewhat hesitant to knock on her parents' door when it came time to see them! Parents were generally more guarded on this side than on the other since they assumed that I, like most whites — and perhaps like their economically elite relatives on the "other" side — would be superior and disparaging. It took considerable effort to make contacts and to maintain them. The diversity of families on Mathias and River Roads was also found on the other side with one notable exception. There was no power base on Mathias and River Roads at a l l since only one individual from this area was on Council; he was more involved with people on the other side than with his neighbours. The people on Mathias and River Roads tended to be genuinely hostile and bitter both with regard to whites and to other Indians. The main thrust of their bitterness was more in-ternal than external, however. They felt they had been put in their low economic and powerless positions by the manipulations of a few 80 people from the other side, most of whom they considered to be recent immigrants to their reserve. As a result, they felt "put down" con-stantly and were much less secure in their dealings with me and with others than were the people from the other side who operated from a firmer economic and power base. People on Mathias and River Roads believed that their socio-economic and political situations were not likely to change. The impact of this recognition was to make them value their traditional culture, especially religion, more highly. There was great eagerness to have children named; adolescents and older school children were ac-tively pressuring their parents to name them. The naming ceremony was seen as a means of equalizing some of the disparities of income and power by rendering them irrelevant. They became irrelevant in the sense that although i t cost money to hold a naming, money peA i>Z was not the end of the ceremony. While some individuals could achieve status through being elected to Council and by accumulating wealth from employment, the people on Mathias and River Roads could reclaim a traditional status and power which operated outside the "Council-employment" criteria for recognition. They could have the same per-sonal satisfaction while at the same time disparaging the latter system. In this behaviour, they were joined by the economically non-elite from the east side. This added to the impetus for a return to the smokehouse and for personal recognition within a system which was viable for them. As a result, people who would normally not have cooperated did so and were able to force the Band to rebuild the smokehouse which had burned down two years earlier. 81 Such an achievement was no mean feat for people whose one pol-i t i c a l representative was opposed to "that kind of nonsense." A major contributing feature of the movement back to the smokehouse was ex-plained by parents as an attempt to give their children something of which to be proud. It is a reaction to the bitterly recalled insults of the mission teachers who had made being an Indian something less than being human. Many of the mothers were just beginning to realize what they had suffered in terms of their own concepts of self-worth. Now they had one or two adolescent children and with more children coming along, they felt they needed "something Indian" to hold firm as a source of pride. Since they could not look to positions of con-temporary wealth or power to f u l f i l l such needs, they were turning back to the one remaining system which held some promise of legitimizing their Indianness. Youths added their own dimension to the movement by pointing out that they did not know about the religious and cultural connotations of being named or becoming a dancer. They admitted that they liked the prospect of being "special" people. More important was the idea that an Indian name emphasized their Indianness and their separateness from whites. They wanted to be very separate on their own terms since within the integrated schools they felt that they were already socially separate. Whether such means can achieve and f u l f i l l the goals mentioned remains to be seen. It would seem that for this interim period the rebuilding of the smokehouse, and the announcement of intent to hold a naming — or to become an initiate — provide sufficient gain to compensate for the many negative features of l i f e on Mathias and River Roads. 82 The Other Side: East When the reserve was first established, i t encompassed con-siderable territory on the river. Much of the land was rented to the Harbours Board and to logging and milling companies. Ultimately a bridge was built which separated the eastern section from the western section of the reserve. As a result, the separation became solidified in the minds of the people and they began to refer to themselves with separate place names. Eventually, the west side of the reserve had an offer to 4 sell some land to developers of a large shopping complex. The money involved ran to a reported six figures. It was to be paid in part to the Band and in part to individuals as compensation for loss of their homes. The offer of the developers was accepted by the Band and a major shopping complex was built. The question arose as to where the dispossessed people would relocate. The Band decided that an unoccupied portion on the east side of Capilano Reserve would be allocated to them and that they would re-settle there. Tales of the move, and of amounts of money involved, sound like stories of early gold-rush adventures. Figures as low as $2,000, and as high as $25,000, are mentioned when one asks about compensation for lands and homes. There is no feasible way of checking such figures since there are no available records of settlements with individuals. What is evident is that people on the east side of the reserve have excellent homes some of which would probably sell now for $15,000 to 4. This "west" is the portion of the original reserve; the east-west referred to earlier related to the current reserve area. 83 $30,000 were sales permitted. Figures which I have recorded as pur-chase prices for sizeable homes, bought in the urban area and trans-ported to new foundations on the reserve, vary from $5,000 to $8,000. Many of these homes have four to six bedrooms, a large living-room area, substantial kitchens, and bathrooms; some have finished or par-tially-finished basements. Most are in good repair, both on the inside and out, while others show signs of interior wear but are well-maintained outside. Approximately 75% of the homes on the east side have lawns and about 50% have fences. Of the total number of houses (26), only three appear to be in the poor state of the majority of houses on the west side, that is, small, in bad repair, and overcrowded. Of the three, one could be renovated to f i t in with the rest; the two others are subject to the same condemnation as the post-war housing on the other side. The spacious houses are well-furnished. Furnishings in-clude beds for a l l individuals, a contrast to the west side where sev-eral children sleep on floors or share beds. Colour television sets are found in 50% of the homes and most have freezers. With few excep-tions, most household heads have cars and in three cases wives have their own cars as well. It is interesting that even though the houses are more spa-cious the number of children on the east side is considerably less per family than i t is on the west. The average family size consists of four to five children and only two households have more than ten occu-pants. 84 Patrilocal patterns of residence prevail (see Map 3). One street is occupied by a widow and her three children with their fam-il i e s . Just around the corner is another son and his family. Running across this street is another which houses two brothers and their sons. Directly around the intersection live another brother and a cousin. The one traditionally oriented family has a daughter and her family, as well as a grandchild, within the household; a daughter married to a white lives beside them. Across the street are the adult sons of the old man's brother. The remainder of the street consists of relatives with the exception of one family from Northern British Columbia; even then, the man is married to a local girl. The men on the east side are a l l employed with two exceptions. Most work as longshoremen and have for many years. One man is retired; another is on welfare because he has ulcers and cirrhosis; until two years ago he was also a longshoreman. A few men take time off occa-sionally with compensation for injuries sustained while at work; their loss of income is not significant. Incomes are high; longshoremen earn from $800 to $1,500 monthly; one individual who runs his own business is reputed to clear $20,000 per annum (see Table 1). Five women are employed full-time. In addition, four wives supplement the household incomes by knitting the famous "Cowichan" sweaters. Six women hold Band committee positions. Nine men are Coun-cillors from this areaiand represent the major family enclaves mentioned above. In addition, the Band Manager lives here, and the grandson of the late and 3ast hereditary chief is now head of the British Columbia Union of Chiefs. No white men live on this side of the reserve but one 85 white woman has married-in and is part of one of the large extended families. In addition, most of the women have married-in from outside the Band. They represent Mount Currie, Alert Bay, various Vancouver Island points, and Interior Salish villages. Two families from Northern British Columbia are renting houses; a l l others are occupied by the owners. The houses were paid for by the money accrued from the shopping center complex; they were placed on new foundations, renovated, re-paired, and furnished with loans from the Band. These loans are repaid at the rate of $50 per annum taken out of redistribution monies of each adult but not of the children. No interest in charged. Repairs are the responsibility of the owner except for those few cases where household heads are on welfare or pensions. The economic and power base is clearly located on the east 5 side of the reserve. Since nepotism is a quasi-traditional practice, then the political base is reinforced by continued election of kin by the extended families. Socially, the two major families are in opposi-tion to each other; politically, they align in order to obtain maximum advantage from their political positions, especially when other segments of the Band appear to threaten their power. One family tends to dom-inate both the political and economic scene and as a result is the con-stant source of criticism. One major feature of this extended family group is that its genealogy is under constant evaluation within the community; some Band members claim that a "white" element had somehow 5. That i s , i f one considers the traditional responsibility of the wealthy and powerful household heads. 86 manipulated the Band so that this extended family became a bona fade, segment of the Band at some point in history. It is common to hear gossip about this family's lack of claim to traditional status and the complementary statement that they should not be on the reserve. Without the historical and genealogical data, there is no way that such statements can be evaluated. It is true, however, that this one extended family has not claimed any names, refuses to participate in smokehouse affairs, is not involved with r i t u a l summer events, and runs a "counter-culture" of chicken dances, tomahawk-and-feather-type activities which even some of the high-status people participate in for their own amusement. Some Band members resent the public image which is portrayed by this family to the general public and feel they have no way of communicating their own important views and culture because of their private and r i t u a l nature. With the exception of one family, youths on the east side are oriented toward making money in a white world and do not seem to feel that they w i l l have any d i f f i c u l t y in doing so. This is a r e a l i s t i c orientation since their fathers and uncles are making good incomes through employment in white settings. Additionally, most youths from the east side aspire to some p o l i t i c a l power as well as good income because they have models within their families on wich to base their expectations of success. These matters w i l l be dealt with more ful l y in the chapter on socialization. It is important to note that while these individuals draw their prestige and status by having power and money to display within the reserve, their children look consistently outward and expect to live off the reserve and work at remunerative pro-87 fessional jobs. They are not interested in Indianness; they are pri-marily concerned about power and money. They do not consider the fact that they are members of an Indian Band which will inhibit (or help) them in any way from achieving such goals. In actuality, off a reserve they would be difficult to distinguish in appearance or behaviour from whites pursuing similar occupations and life-styles. Band members express a variety of concerns about the struc-ture and patterns of social organization prevalent on the reserve. Some of these are discussed below in order to provide the context for the discussion presented later on patterns of socialization. Membership One of the primary concerns of any human group is how to de-fine its members. A group readily defines "insiders" and "outsiders" but the differentiations made within those categories are not as easily perceived. A l l people at the Capilano reserve define themselves as "insiders" because of their membership in a distinct extended family group. They can trace their family history to a common ancestor. It is in this genealogical process that the differences appear between those people who have "privileged knowledge" (Suttles) and those who cannot trace ancestry, "properly." These two categories of people are labelled by the Squamish in a variety of ways. The most familiar terms used are big-name families versus no-name families, noble versus com-6 moner, important people versus nobodies. 6. There are other categories of people based on different criteria. However, these are the major categories and the ones into which a l l corporate groups f a l l . 88 These categorizations immediately communicate the idea that one person has about the qualities of another. There are many types of related issues attached to the categorization. For example, big-name people are supposed to behave in certain ways toward each other and differently toward no-name people. This is a traditional concept which was attached to the classification of people in the bighouses, especially the head and his relatives who had certain types of respon-sibilities toward less fortunate and less knowledgeable relatives. The quality of being a good Squamish is attached to expectations of fulfilment of kin needs by those who hold wealth, power, and status. Traditionally, those were the big-name people who acquired their wealth, and subsequently their power and status, from being able to accumulate more natural resources than anyone else. They then redistributed these to their less fortunate kin and added to the concepts of their bigness. Secret knowledge and advice was passed from family head to descendants so that sons and grandsons could maintain the family name by knowing where the best fishing grounds were, how best to use their skills, how to behave appropriately on ritual occasions, and what rituals to engage in in order to be most successful. Such access to information, skills, and ritual advice was theoretically not available to the no-name people. If contemporary trends are any reflection of the past, i t is more than likely that the knowledge and advice was withheld in certain instances and passed on in distorted form in others. The latter process, which will be discussed in Chapter III, functions very adequately to make "fools" of unknowledgeable people on certain ritual and social occasions. 89 There i s no question that the dichotomy between the two major categories of people which t r a d i t i o n a l l y might have been e a s i l y and r i g i d l y defined s t i l l e x i s t s now but the edges are blurred. Wealth and power no longer depend on r i t u a l knowledge or on secret knowledge of natural resources and the s p i r i t and natural s k i l l s involved i n ac-q u i r i n g them. The s h i f t to a cash economy has enabled some of the no-name people to acquire a d i f f e r e n t set of advantageous s k i l l s and know-ledge and to use them i n the same ways as d i d the big-name people i n the past. That i s , they are used to contain people i n a powerless p o s i t i o n , making them dependent upon those with wealth and power. This enhances the status and prestige of the already powerful. So a new class of e l i t e has arisen without necessary reference to t r a d i t i o n a l family h i s t o r y . While the new e l i t e has come into being and controls the re-serve, the old ideas about status have not yet adjusted to accommodate ei t h e r the new e l i t e or the ramifications of a cash economy based on c e r t a i n l e g a l and administrative r e s t r i c t i o n s . Band management i s not j u s t a function of r e d i s t r i b u t i o n of wealth; i t i s r e s t r i c t e d by condi-tions of the Act and by Band p o l i c y . The fact that some people acquire more wealth and power than others within that context i s noted as a further complexity when t r y i n g to sort out the various processes which determine categories of people and benefits to be derived from that cate-g o r i z a t i o n . I t i s apparent that the ideology which p e r s i s t s i n defining categories of people i s anachronistic i n the contemporary s i t u a t i o n . Nevertheless, the e l i t e tends to keep such anachronisms a l i v e by behaving i n ways which can f i t into the t r a d i t i o n a l explanations. For example, 90 nepotism which is widely practiced fits in nicely with the old concept of the senior head of the bighouse providing for kin in a variety of ways. One of the most severe criticisms that Councillors face from relatives is that they are not providing sufficient benefits to their kin. On the other hand, as soon as Council decides to give X a job, or a house, or welfare, the Ys protest that they are being unfairly treated. Since Council is voted in by large kin groups, the few soli-tary members elected by other families receive heavy criticism for not having sufficient power to provide their kin with similar advantages. The criticism then is reduced to a traditional argument. That i s , the statements made are that some people are poor and powerless because the no-names have taken over the roles that should be held by the big-names. As a result, people.feel they suffer at the hands of an "ignor-ant bunch of people who don't know how to behave." When some favour is received, i t is explained by some as their due and no thanks are given because "that's the way i t should be; he is just behaving right." Such perceptions tend to be generational; young people under 40 operate from contemporary concerns and ideologies but are judged by the older people with traditional terms and expectations. An individual's family of birth determines his status to the extent that traditional concerns are s t i l l alive. There is a dual system of evaluation of status at Capilano but the halves of the system 7 are not entirely mutually exclusive. Children of the new elite consider 7. That is, the putative no-names who control the reserve and who are perceived as having considerable wealth and power. 9 1 themselves as members of the e l i t e . As such they expect p r e f e r e n t i a l treatment from t h e i r r e l a t i v e s and refuse, or are not permitted, to associate with other categories of people. Big-name f a m i l i e s , who are not part of the new system, are also a s e l f - d e f i n e d e l i t e group who c i t e t h e i r t r a d i t i o n a l heritage and assume that t h e i r c h i l d r e n w i l l restore them to t h e i r legitimate positions of power. In t h i s way, the two sys-tems are p a r a l l e l . The c h i l d r e n of the big-name families are becoming b i c u l t u r a l i n t h e i r knowledge and expectations. For example, they are expected to attend school and to succeed so that they w i l l acquire the knowledge necessary to reclaim t h e i r r i g h t f u l positions as contemporary r u l e r s of the Band. At the same time, they are learning t h e i r t r a d i t i o n a l culture, know t h e i r names and h i s t o r y , even i f i t has only been "thrown 8 at them." Therefore, they are becoming contenders for p r e s t i g e f u l com-munity p o s i t i o n s . The above may appear to be a long and complex consideration of membership. I t i s v i t a l i n understanding some of the contemporary factionalism, however, to understand the ways i n which membership i s ascribed, obtained by b i r t h , or achieved through marriage. There appear to be a v a r i e t y of rules which are stated where the actions of people b e l i e the statements. 8. This phrase denotes the awareness of the smokehouse p a r t i c i p a n t s that an i n d i v i d u a l has claim to a c e r t a i n name and various p r i v i l e g e s even though they may not have yet been formally i n s t a l l e d i n the smoke-house. Such "thrown-at" status i s usually recognized by contemporary S a l i s h because they recognize the i n a b i l i t y of many parents and grand-parents to pay for proper r i t u a l bestowal ceremonies. This w i l l be further explained i n Chapter I I I . 92 Membership Through Marriage The Salish apparently had some latitude in following their rules for marriage. The preference was for local exogamy; first cou-sin marriage was prohibited. However, the fact that housemates often married in the past is evidence that local endogamy was also quite com-mon (Barnett, 1955). The more important goal in marriage was to choose a mate of at least equal status. Local exogamy was preferred because it insured that economic exchanges could occur through a network of affinal ties along the Coast. Marriages were arranged in the past but no individual was forced to accept a parent's choice i f not willing to do so. The arrangement was an economic and a social one designed to maximize access to resources and to give progeny and extended kin claim to considerable personal property from both families. Since the Salish system of descent was bilateral, children could inherit names and other ritual privileges from both sides of the family. In keeping with the traditional concepts of wealth and status, the more such property one could claim, the bigger the name of the extended family became. An analysis of the contemporary Band patterns of marriage in-dicates that the pattern is s t i l l largely traditional. The majority of marriages reflect the pattern of local endogamy; exogamy is also found. About one-fifth of the women have married-in from other Bands, or are white. The bilateral system of reckoning descent s t i l l prevails and residence is s t i l l primarily patrilocal. The permanence of contemporary marriages is difficult to assess. Five households have been disrupted by divorce, two by desertion, 93 and two by death of one spouse due to abuse of alcohol in the past year. Such disruptions are seen by some parents and grandparents as a function of marrying down or marring out. The latter includes marriage to members of other tribes as well as to whites; there is l i t t l e differentiation made between marrying a white or an Indian i f the Indian does not belong 9 to the Salish tribe. Many grandparents and parents indicate that one of the major problems contributing to the failure of marriage and in marrying-out are a direct result of the educational system. They claim that individuals who would have been carefully protected from unsuitable marriage partners by their extended families in the bighouses met their partners while in residential and public schools. These contacts led not only to the breakdown of the system of arranged marriages, but also to the difficulties of the couples themselves in adjusting adequately to marital situations. Of the 26 households which were studied thoroughly, six women belonged to non-Salish Bands at the time of marriage; seven marriages reflect the practice of local exogamy, and ten are endogamous. One white woman married in and two Squamish women married whites but live on the reserve. Of the 26, one household contains a single man and two contain families from Northern British Columbia and cannot be considered in the Squamish sample. Of the remaining 23, only 12 marriages would be considered as lying within the realm of proper which leaves their T. Band, 1969: 11,reports that from 1958 to 1967, 91 Squamish married out; 49 were female and 42 were male. It should be noted that this constitutes a loss to the Band of only the females due to the mem-bership provisions of the Act. 94 status s t i l l unresolved. Of the proper marriages, traditionalists would argue that from the viewpoint of the male, three married up and two married down; the remainder married partners of equal status. This means that the discussion of status is bounded by relationship to only one of the partners since, in endogamous tribal marriages, a man marrying up means a female has married down. The status issue really reflects upon the children since children have to meet expectations of kin from both sides. A child is considered primarily as the property of the mother since she is held almost totally responsible for socialization. Where a man has married down, his progeny are often abused by his extended family because they can never meet the expectations for proper behaviour. No matter how well they behave, they are s t i l l considered inadequate because they have been brought up by their mother who is considered to be of a lower status. The same rule applies in reverse. Children of high status mothers get lauded by her kin for behaviour which overcomes their paternal ancestry! Membership of young children seems to be determined by fe-male descent and the mother's status rather than by bilateral criteria. Later, children can be "redeemed" by claiming their paternal names and privileges but even then many are viewed by grandparents as unsuitably reared. Similarly, wives who have married in (which is equated with marrying up for them) never seem to acquire f u l l right of membership within the Band, or within the community, on a social or ritual basis. The same exclusion seems to operate with regard to adopted children. A single example illustrates both of these points. 95 A was born on one of the Squamish reserves. Her mother ten-ded to wander and there was some question as to whether A was the product of the legal union or of some other alliance. The Squamish people seemed to feel that the latter was the case. This was confirmed in their minds when the mother left the child with her legal husband and went to live with another man. The legal husband then adopted the child and the girl lived with him and other children of his second union. When time came for her to marry, she married a man from a big-name family in another reserve. By strict interpretation, her marriage was one of local exogamy and of only slightly less than equal status, since her father was from a big-name family also but not as big as her husband's. Nevertheless, the woman's status within the community is that of an outsider; she is constantly fighting to have her membership recognized by asserting her marital status rather than her natal one. The claim does not work, however, and she herself contributes to its failure by making statements like, "I don't know i f that woman was my grandmother or not." No high-status persons would be without such knowledge and were they, they would never admit i t . Additionally, in a drunken state, she often challenges people to throw her off the re-serve and adds, "But, you can't hurt my sons; nobody can say they don't belong." With the proclivities of the Salish for bending the rules, this is a good example. Her status is reckoned by her mother's and the father's adoption is rendered irrelevant. Her husband's family, which is large and traditionally powerful, regards the children as his and therefore accords them due respect. 9 6 In another instance, a man married a girl from an Interior reserve; she too left to wander and ultimately died on skid road. The children are considered hers, however, even by his family which is big-name; the children are seldom included in any ritual or significant events. The Squamish offer no explanation of the ways by which they arrive at such conclusions about membership. However, once a stand is taken, the rigidity of ascription seems to be irreversible and can cause immeasurable grief for those labelled outsiders and for their progeny. Outsiders Like members, there are several categories of outsiders. Salish from reserves other than that of the speaker are considered mar-ginal people i f they cannot trace a relationship through a common an-cestor . Members of other Indian tribes, or Metis, are always "visitors" or "strangers." Visitors are marginal people who have some established social link with the speaker but no affinal or consanguineal one. whites and Indians can be considered visitors or strangers. Visitors naturally have more acceptance because of their established social ties. Strangers have l i t t l e acceptance i f they do not know specific people on the reserve or i f they have what is considered an irrelevant reason for being there. A curious Cree meets as much hostility as a curious white i f he enters the reserve. 97 In general, visitors and outsiders tend to be regarded as homogeneous; individuals are assumed to reflect group characteristics. Thus, a l l individuals are treated initially with suspicion, some overt hostility and some covert, as in the complete refusal of people to admit the presence of the other. The process of categorizing strangers and visitors then proceeds and they are accepted into the group on some marginal basis, reclassified, or rejected. The criteria used in deter-mining which category the person will be placed in depend on the i n i -t i a l entry of the individuals, their purpose in being there, and the way they handle formal and informal contacts. It does not seem to be 10 critically linked to ethnicity. Summary: Class, Status and Power The geographical division of the reserve reflects a surface image of the divisiveness of the Band which is cross-cut by considera-tions of membership. Membership is determined by family of birth, family of adoption, and family of marriage. Class, status, and power are concepts which add to the complexity of evaluating the position of an individual within the society. The confusion is increased when one realizes that the system of evaluation is bifold including overlapping traditional and contemporary criteria. The traditional structure of class, status and power has al-ready been described (Chapter I). In the contemporary society, there 10. I have often felt embarrassed by being given special attention at local ritual events while visiting Indians of high status from ano-ther group were completely ignored. This behaviour was defined as proper since I was "recognized" as a marginal member of a local family. 9 8 are two classes, one based on traditional criteria of names and des-cent; the other is based on Western socio-economic criteria. In a few cases, big-name people also f i t the economic criteria of the new elite, but in general they tend to be in lower income brackets and not involved in current political administration. The new elite de-pend on elective rather than hereditary position and on wealth gained from regular employment to maintain their position of status. Status is clearly linked to power in these instances; power is the ability and position to make decisions concerning the lives of other people, especially economic ones relating to housing, welfare, and Band dev-elopment . The second system, the residual traditional one, continues to operate within the smokehouse and is gaining momentum. In this system hereditary status is the most important and is firmly linked with the concept of class discussed earlier. The highest status peo-ple are those who can trace the longest family histories with the grea-test number of big names and privileges. The highest status people within the smokehouse have power in the sense that they make decisions affecting the ritual lives and activities of dancers and other partici-pants . The overlap between the traditional and the contemporary sys^ -tems is found in the ideologies attached to the two. In the traditional system, people of high class, status, and power were expected to care for the members of their bighouses who were always relatives. One of the means of legitimizing a big name was through generosity to poorer and less effectual kin. To be a good Salish was to be industrious, 99 accumulative, and generous. Among many Salish people the expectation is s t i l l very strong that those in power, and economically well-off, will provide for kin, especially those in the ascending generation and collaterals. However, the expectation is based on traditional concepts of what is proper held by those over 40 years of age. In contrast, the same expectations are held by younger people based on their obser-vation of the practice of nepotism by Council members. Nepotism fits very nicely into a traditional ideology even though i t is contemporary in its setting and the nepotists belong to the new, not the old, elite. A Councillor is elected by a group of extended kin on the assumption that i f he gains a position of power, he will also be in a position to grant financial and other benefits to those voting for him. The observed practice through the granting of jobs to relatives, the giving of welfare, or assignment of houses is well-known. In other words, Council members operate in the same way that big-name people and household heads did in earlier times. The personnel has changed, not the ideology or practice. Kin groups in power by election, or by association, are considered good Squamish by those who benefit. Those not on the receiving end because they are members of opposing extended families base their criticisms of nep-otism on traditional arguments. The "ignorant" Councillors behave "badly"; "they don't treat us right because they weren't brought up pro-perly; they have no names, what can you expect?" Members of big-name families who are a minority on Council, suffer the severest criticism; "the no-names can't be expected to know how to behave but the big-names 100 should." Seldom were any explanations offered which were based on eco-nomic, legal, or other types of criteria related to the realities of a Band administration subject to restrictions of the Act, Band policy, and corporate law. To conclude, the main points I wished to establish in this chapter related to a series of considerations reflected in patterns of residence, the allocation of power, class, status and wealth. Although some old elite families live within the wealthy area of the reserve, their traditional ties are inoperative i f the members of the middle generation are involved in contemporary Band politics and economics. The remainder pursue traditional patterns of li f e and feel poor and powerless. Most of the latter group live in the old section of the re-serve in conditions which reflect their poverty. The divisiveness is cross-cut by membership in opposing extended family groups, each of which sees itself as superior to the other. The binary oppositions re-flected in the elective versus the hereditary system of leadership, and in the class issue stated in big-name — no-name terms, complicate the factionalism further. Ideologies anachronistic to each other serve to evaluate people's roles and positions, especially those in publicc power positions, but the contradictions in ideology are not necessarily conscious. And a l l these matters determine the values, per-ceptions, life-styles and socialization practices of the current parent generation. Socialization within the ritual group of families is pre-sented first in Chapter III while that of the new elite families is discussed in Chapter IV. 101 CHAPTER III THE CONTEMPORARY SMOKEHOUSE: SETTING FOR RITUAL SOCIALIZATION The traditional perspective on spirit dancing, naming, curing and purification has been outlined in Chapter I and by a variety of authors: Barnett (1939); Lane (1952); Wike (1945); Suttles (1960); Robinson (1963); Kew (1970). Squamish people report that when they s t i l l lived in the big-houses, patterns of l i f e were intricately linked with each other and with spirit l i f e . There was no perceived opposition between the human and spirit worlds; both inhabited the universe cooperatively. As a result, the economy depended as much on access to spirit guidance as on s k i l l in hunting and gathering; political power depended on an individual's ability to convert material and social resources into prestige. Status came from being economically and politically superior. The big-name families had greater access, not only to resources conver-tible into wealth and power, but also to spirit help. The integration which made the social system work depended on the system being closed. When i t was opened by the shift to a cash economy, the intrusion of missionaries, the establishment of re-serves with nuclear households, then the ritual aspects of Squamish society suffered as well as other parts. In addition, the Indian Act was revised to make potlatching illegal. This was mainly enforced among Northern groups and the Southern Kwakiutl. No specific mention was made in the Act of excluding the gatherings of the Squamish from the restric-102 tion although their activities did not represent "potlatching" within the legal definition. As a result, the law was interpreted by many Squamish to mean that no gatherings could be held. The fact that their Kwakiutl friends were incarcerated in jails within Salish terri-tory served only to make the prohibition more immediately relevant to them. Ritual activities diminished considerably as a result. The few that were continued were held in private homes with only close kin in attendance. Many people simply gave up their ritual practices; in places like Burrard and Sechelt, the lack of traditional ritual prac-tice, when combined with the negative reinforcement of Catholicism, re-sulted in the almost complete loss of ritual knowledge and activity. More isolated places like Kuper Island continued the ritual activities. Ritualists there are now the source of information for the re-education of adults and youth wishing to revive the practices. 1 Ritual Personnel Traditionally there were several categories of ritual per-sons. The person with power was the "Indian doctor." An Indian doctor was a person who had extraordinary spirit power; that is, he had the help of several types of spirits. In contrast, ordinary individuals 1. The term ritualist is mine. The Squamish refer to these people as "dancers with special power." Since this does not discriminate be-tween people who are doctors, who cure with herbs, or who oversee ritual events, I have inserted these terms to maintain clarity of reference in discussion. I have not used the Musqueam terms (see Kew, 1970) which the Squamish use because they are clearly borrowed and also because they are used less than the English terms cited. 1 0 3 had access generally to only one spirit helper. The Indian doctor spent many years training to become a good practitioner. The usual number of years considered adequate for training was twelve. After the first four years, and upon evidence of special power, the individual could act as a ritualist under supervision of senior doctors and dancers. The train-ing of a doctor usually began with ritual purification as a small child. All children had to bathe ritually in the cold mountain streams but Squamish people advise me that children destined to become "special people" give evidence — interpretable only by "knowledgeable" people — of their special qualities very early in l i f e . The fact that the inter-pretation of cues was usually done by grandparents with whom special children were reared, begs the question of whether the position was not, in fact, hereditary. People assure me that becoming a doctor did not follow rules of primogeniture and of special privilege to sons of sen-ior sons. However, of the existing doctors, and in these accounts of the ones previously known by Squamish elders, the grandfathers were ritualists and sometimes doctors themselves. It seems reasonable to assume that old men wished to pass their special knowledge to close and special relatives; they chose to pass i t to bright and favorite grand-sons or granddaughters whom they were charged with rearing. The training of a doctor was rigorous. From an early age, the children were kept informed about the world of spirits from which they could draw power when the time for their vision quest arrived. They learned about their natural world too; especially, they learned how to collect plants for special teas and tonics known to make people well. They learned to withstand the cold streams and the brushing with 104 cedar boughs as part of a purification process designed to make them clean and worthy recipients of spirit powers. They learned about the dangers of some evil spirits and about the hierarchy of power which enabled some spirits to abduct others of lesser degree. They learned the taboos associated with sexual matters and with food. They heard stories of the many ghosts and spirits which inhabited the worlds of man, the sea, the woods, and the spirit world. Filled with these sto-ries, skills, and attitudes, the young children reached pubescence. At puberty, the male child was expected to go on a vision quest. It was on this quest that individuals first encountered their spirit helpers and obtained some sign of their possession. The youth who was destined to have special power and to become a doctor could anticipate hosting several spirits. It is not clear from the literature, or from informant accounts, whether a l l of these were acquired simul-2 taneously or in successive encounters and quests. When the human body became the host of a spirit helper, the individual began to show signs of "spirit sickness" and was "cured" by becoming a spirit dancer. This process will be described later in de-t a i l . For the moment i t is important only to note that the initiation as a spirit dancer gave the individual the opportunity to publicly demon-2 . The literature relates information on the (or a) vision quest imply-ing an in i t i a l solitary contact. Elders, however, talk of an indi-vidual's increased ability to mature and handle a variety of spirit powers. The implication is that some individuals have successive encounters with spirits. It was not possible to check contradictory statements of various people because of the privacy of the knowledge as well as the lack of knowledge of some Squamish dancers on such matters. 105 strate his spirit power. The dance was done to an individual song, both of which were the "property" of the individual; the song, which charac-terized the spirit, was sung by others only to help the dancer display his spirit. Once initiated, the individual had special status within, the community and was expected to behave appropriately; he was treated with deference. The young man training to be a doctor would become an initia -ted dancer, and would spend the first four years learning to control and use his power effectively. It is this concept of control which dominates the Coast Salish spirit complex. The Salish are:not possessed by their spirit power except during the period of spirit sickness; they possess a spirit helper which they control in a variety of ways and which they honour through public display, careful personal regulation of behaviour and avoidance of "dangerous" behaviour or situations which might offend the spirit and force him to leave. Should this happen, the spirit helper takes the l i f e spirit or soul with i t and the person dies. It would be especially important for the young man train-ing as a doctor to follow the regulations carefully and to guard against loss of his spirit powers. After four years the individual is considered familiar and safe with his spirit power. He then has options about some regulations, and also about the frequency with which he will publicly honour his spirit by dancing. It would be at this stage that the aspirant doctor would begin to assist with initiations and curings. The senior ritu-alist might ask him to feed the fires. This is a protective process designed to keep spirits lodged there from coming out to seek company 1 0 6 or food, thus endangering new initiates who have "weak" power; they could also possibly get in the way of dancers and cause a person to f a l l . Falling places the dancer in grave danger since a sudden jolt or f a l l can dislodge a resident spirit through a person's orifices. Or the young man might be asked to help with a ritual bathing, admin-ister a tonic to someone who was i l l , carry the cedar root rings around to draw out any sickness (the rings identify sick people and then the doctors can "work" on them), or to help in the performance of any of these rites. After four years of performing the above acts as assistant to the senior ritualists, and continuing to learn about the very com-plex system of curing — especially spirit sickness, soul-loss and similar things — the man would be qualified. He could then direct activities and supervise smokehouse rituals so that dancers and obersvers would be safe from loss of spirits or from evil spirit power. The following four years would be spent learning from senior practitioners how to deal with the dangers of the spirit realm. One such experience might be to participate in the search for a lost soul. The most typical situation reported was the account of soul-loss by an individual whose mate had just died. In this situation, the soul of the deceased wanders for four days after i t leaves its host, seeking the company of its closest friend. This usually would be the marital partner but also could be a favorite child or grandchild. ,The Squamish elders report that if the living are not adequately protected by the proper funeral rituals, then the wandering soul can "get 107 by" the mourners and "snatch" the soul of the mate. The mate then sick-ens and prepares to die; i t is up to the doctor to both diagnose and treat the illness. He has four days in which to capture the lost soul and restore i t to its owner. The search for the lost soul involves great danger for the doctor who must journey to the land of the spi-rits with his own spirit; there, he may encounter malevolent or more powerful spirits who may abduct his soul so he may also lose his l i f e . He must prepare for the journey carefully with ritual purification, with protection of down and cedar root, and with assistance from strong-spirited ritualists. Among some Coast Salish, a spirit board was also used as a medium of entry into the spirit world. The search began in the graveyard but i t also took place elsewhere, including a trip by boat to the sea, where presumably the doctor could go into the spirit world of the sea in his search. If he were successful, he brought the soul back attached to the spirit board, or to a rattle, or to a cedar root ring. He threw it back into its owner; he then stayed close for four days to ensure that i t did not depart its host again. Once a doctor in training had performed some of these acts successfully, he was considered to be qualified; his services were de-manded and paid for. Often people hired him merely to be in attendance at ritual events. The belief was that because the doctor had such strong power, he would be able to sense if there were evil spirits or ghosts in the smokehouse and could then perform the appropriate rituals to protect the dancers. Also, i f someone took i l l because of malevolent power being thrown at them, or for other reasons, he could cure them. 108 Many times the doctor would be paid to be there even i f he had no spe-cific work to do. He was paid additionally i f he did the work. The current system of training seems to be closely related to the old although with the change in ritual pattern, which will be mentioned later, the rules of procedure and the time element have al-tered. At this time I know of only two young Salish men in training, one American and one Canadian. They are both being trained by the same old man, the only doctor I personally know. There is, however, a woman on Kuper Island who has curing power but who is not trained as a doctor. She does not seem to be 3 available in the same way that other curers are but rather will sud-denly be inspired to work on someone in the middle of an ordinary dance. For example, one night when she was at a dance in Musqueam, she suddenly stopped in front of an old man who was partially paralyzed and who had severe arthritis. She stood before him and trembled so quickly that i t was not possible to see her hands. The singers increased their volume and tempo; the old man stood without assistance for the first time in many months. When he sat again, she decreased her tempo and continued her own spirit dance. The man's family, and some other wit-nesses, wept openly and she was given payment by many groups in the house. 3. The Squamish do not have terms for people with different types of curing power. They differentiate the doctor from others by the use of the term "doctor." Others who have various curing powers are referred to only as people with "special" power. 109 Ritualists Ritualists are the people who are charged with the day-to-4 day operation of ritual events in the smokehouse. They oversee the putting-down, standing-up, and general activity of the initiates. They also assist the doctors in some curings. They attempt to ensure that a l l ritual activities are appropriately carried out. While their ac-tivities require special knowledge, and therefore some training under the supervision of senior men, they do not necessarily require special spirit power to perform their duties. They are usually initiated dancers. They must have strong power since during the curings they are in contact with other spirits which could endanger them. They are paid for their services; their main responsibility is to help the host family holding the gathering to do things properly and to carry out the work of the evening for the family. Traditionally,each smokehouse had its own senior people, and visiting senior dancers had no special status unless they were asked to help with a curing or with an initiation. Currently, there is a shor-tage of knowledgeable senior dancers; two brothers from Musqueam are usually in charge of a l l Mainland smokehouse gatherings whether or not they are held at Musqueam. The only exception to their being in charge is i f the gathering is in the United States. In this case, the dancers from La Conner and Lummi are in charge. Occasionally, at Rosedale or Sea Bird Island or other places, the Lummi and Musqueam ritualists will 4. An alternate term might be "senior dancer." 110 assist each other i f i t is a large gathering with a lot of work to be done. There are other ritualists in the various communities on the Mainland but they are men in their late 70's and 80's who have retired for a variety of reasons, one major one being that they do not consi-der smokehouse affairs to be in proper order; therefore, they do not wish to participate. Four Squamish men whom I know fa l l into this category. Currently, only men are ritualists. I understand from the Squamish people that there were a few women through the years who also had special powers. Women do have considerable ritual knowledge, how-ever. While the present ritualists are men, I have seen some of the very old women call out and correct them when they did not pronounce 5 a name properly, or when they failed to follow some correct procedure. Such procedural knowledge was part of the heritage of the big-name peo-ple, and not the restricted privilege of the ritualists. This would reinforce the concept presented above that it did not take special power to be a ritualist but that i t became a vocation for some indivi-duals who performed the services for fees. It is only in the last few years, when ritual activities have been increasing, that the lack of knowledge and procedural familiarity has made the position a special one based on restricted knowledge not shared by the general population. 5. It should be noted that speakers, i.e., those individuals who formally speak for families at namings, etc., are not necessarily dancers; the.role is a secular one. I l l As the ritual activity becomes more common, the position will probably revert to the more traditional one of a fee-for-service without any aura of special power about i t . 6 Herbalists Both men and women were herbalists in the traditional society. Being a herbalist meant that one had the skills and knowledge to col-lect local plants and use them for curing physical complaints and in-juries. Many plants were used for tonics, that is, to restore vitality to a person who had suffered a long illness. Some were used as emetics. Both of these were usually the fluid collected from boiling leaves, roots, or barks. In addition, poultices were made to cure wounds and people seemed to know about splinting limbs in order to stabilize broken bones. Women were given postpartem teas which presumably hastened the delivery of the placenta and prevented bleeding. Some teas were also given to young girls who were pregnant (prior to marriage) in order to abort them. Premarital pregnancies were not looked upon favourably by the Squamish. The only abortions carried out for married women were in cases where twins were present. The Squamish did not like twins; they believed that they had special power and that i t was malevolent. I understand that in these latter abortions an attempt was made to keep one child alive since destruction of a living being was not the point; destruction of one twin meant the remaining one would be free of the constant threat 6. Again, this term is mine. The concept is a Squamish one, however. 112 of malevolent power from his counterpart. The surviving twin was con-7 sidered special and treated deferentially. Herbalists were also responsible for making paint for the dancers. Ochre was the pigment used and the base was fish o i l ; later it was lard. Currently, cold cream is used if ochre is being added. More commonly, the current paint for dancers is oxblood or black shoe polish. Few people know how to make paint now. My grandfather made it and gave i t as a gift to new dancers in the family. He claimed to be the only Squamish left with the knowledge. His source of ochre was at Squamish in a place difficult to reach. He could not go because of his age and arthritis. He would not allow any of us to go because he said i t had to be handled ritually or i t would hurt the dancers when it was mixed. He talked about teaching his senior grandson the neces-sary rituals but he never did so. since the latter did not attend smokehouse activities. There are two men at Capilano Reserve who were herbalists. Neither practise publicly now except in circumstances of serious family illness. One will make paint s t i l l and give i t as a gift to his rela-tives who are new initiates. He would practice more frequently except that many of the plants and barks he needs are gone from the immediate area and he is too old and infirm to go the long distances he must to obtain the materials. He was unable (or unwilling) to explain to me 7. If a woman carried twins without knowing i t , when they were delivered the family was required to live in the bush by themselves for four years. 113 or others what barks and roots he needed for making some of his teas. He did not know sufficient English, and his wife's translations were not adequately descriptive to allow us to find what he needed. There are several grandmothers on the reserve who prepare potions for sick children but their families told me that they had never done i t for fees.and, in fact, did i t only in critical moments for the family. In the past, however, women were quite active as her-balists and, like other services, they were paid for their potions and assistance. Mid-wives, for example, always brought the necessary post-natal brews with them to a delivery; they were also the ones who admin-istered the abortion potions. There seems to be no revival of herbalism among the Squamish at this time. Such a revival could be lucrative i f Indian herbalists wished to ply their wares and skills to the growing numbers of organic health food and folk medicine enthusiasts. The demand is low among the reserve group, however, since western medicine is now used by the majority of people. Of the 49 families, I am aware of only three who use herbal teas regularly; these they use in addition to p i l l s , anti-biotics, vitamins and similar drugs of the western medical genre. The Smokehouse The term smokehouse has come into use to replace the term 8 bighouse. The term derives from the recognition that fires are built 8. My family sometimes use the term longhouse. There seems to be no single term of choice and the three are used interchangeably. 114 and activities take place "where the smoke i s . " Many communities which are reviving spirit dancing and other ritual events do not have smoke-houses; they use their community halls for these activities. Such ar-rangements have both positive and negative features. The halls are lo-cated closer to residential dwellings than are the smokehouses. This tends to disturb people and to draw in curious passers-by. One advan-tage is that kitchen and bathroom facilities make the use of the halls more convenient. In terms of atmosphere, there is no doubt that the smokehouse dances are more dramatic. However, dances there are more expensive as hosts must pay for wood and a fireman; cooks must cook on wood stoves. In the halls, there are no costs for fires and wood; cook-ing is done on electric or gas stoves. Halls tend to be smaller than smokehouses and therefore attendance must be limited. The fact that halls are used for a variety of other non-ritual activities also tends to complicate matters since some dancers feel that they require ritual purification prior to use for dances. Barnett (1955) and others have described the traditional big-houses which were used for ritual as well as mundane events since people used them as dwellings. Contemporary smokehouses.have an interior de-sign similar to the bighouses but the exteriors are considerably differ-ent in design and material. The house at Tulalip has vertical cedar planking for walls, a gabled roof, heavy cedar beams, entry posts, plat-forms, three fire holes, and a dirt floor. It has no kitchen as the community hall is adjacent and is used for seating people to eat; i t has a large, well-equipped electric kitchen. This house is rather interesting 115 not only because of its traditional design but because i t is currently the largest smokehouse on the Coast. It was built by three brothers in a community that has not held dances for over 50 years. People there have been out of the bighouses for so long that many cannot re-call any living person who was a dancer. At this time i t is the only place that can hold the large international dances. It is used for the big dances at Christmas and Easter when people have time to travel and participate for several days at a time. In 1969, when the house was used for the first time, there was rumour that the three brothers would be jumped and taken either to the Island or to Lummi for initiation. To my knowledge, they s t i l l have not become initiates. The appended diagram shows the floor plan of the contemporary smokehouses. There are two entries but only one is used for guests arriving; the other is used by the local people for bringing in wood and water. After the evening work begins the latter is used by people needing to leave, or to use outhouses. The position of the kitchen varies in a few smokehouses but that is not significant. The kitchen is usually an addition leading out of the rectangle by a center door or at one end. Most smokehouses contain bleacher-type benches and these are widened temporarily with planks when tents for the initiates are required for sleeping. Most houses have a minimum of four rows of seats and a maximum of six. These seats follow along the four walls and the seating plan is carefully worked out. Hosts usually sit on the left wall adjacent to the entrance. The purpose of this seating plan is that dancing starts in a counterclockwise rotation and the rules of courtesy demand that the hosts dance last. 1 1 6 As stated earlier, guests enter initially by one door only. They stand at the entry until the host or his delegate (a family often hires a senior dancer or big-name person to greet and seat guests) walks over and greets them. The role of hosts is important as he must know who the people are without asking them and how important they are. This knowledge determines where they are seated. Members of bands sit in groups together and so are readily identifiable as visitors from their community. The most important people sit on the bottom bench which is closer to the fire and which makes them more accessible to people circulating with gifts and money. Their family members sit be-hind them in order of importance. Young dancers sit behind old people until i t is time for them to dance; then they are given room on the front bench. Older, long-term dancers would normally be important peo-ple and would be in the first row. The youngest and unnamed people sit in ascending rows; whites, unless they have a close relationship to an important person, always sit on the top bench. It is normally easy enough for the host to recognize people from out of town; i t is not al-ways so easy for him to know who are the important people;guests not pro-perly seated are insulted. Retribution must then be made by the family sponsoring the ritual gathering. Strangers entering the smokehouse alone are never recognized or seated by the host. The only way they might gain entry is i f someone in the gathering recognizes them and decides to make them their guest. Such a person will then go over to the entrance, speak to the person, sometimes introduce them to the host, and lead them back to the section where members of his group are seated. It then sometimes becomes awkward 117 to provide seating i f the group who has been watching this action does not feel like recognizing the individual. They will simply not shift positions and will be very involved in talking or looking elsewhere. Strangers can be white or Indian. I have witnessed some very awkward instances when I was seated in the second row and Indians whom I knew came in the door and were not acknowledged. On one occasion, such a couple wandered around, talking to people they knew, sitting in the seats of people who were eating and having to move as they returned. They were forced to leave when everyone was seated and the evening's work was about to begin. When I first began attending the dances in 1965, i t was not uncommon to have to walk through a large group of drunks and of derisive youths who had come to make fun of the proceedings. They would gather outside the entrance and would catcall at a l l entering. Whites were particularly prone to being elbowed and ridiculed as they entered. Later, with more courage from beer, they would push into the entryway where they would be prohibited from entering any further by a line of husky men who seemed to be just standing casually in front of the en-try. In actuality, they were paid by the sponsors to stand there. If a youth pushed his way through, they would escort him back to the entry. Occasionally, one or two would imitate the dancers and this was consi-dered cause to be "jumped" or "grabbed" as an initiate at some later time. The noise level was high and i t was a source of irritation and anxiety to everyone because of the dangers inherent in the situation. They could easily distract or trip a dancer. On several occasions, I have seen them throw bottles at dancers. On the one occasion on which 118 the aim was direct, I saw four senior men, including the Lummi doctor, leap to their feet and take chase. Since i t happened at Lummi, the tribal police who were there also gave chase and arrested the youth. His family later paid for the insult by sponsoring a large gathering for the dancer who had been hit. In the last season in which I attended dances (1971), there were no drunks around the doors and no derisive youth catcalling or throwing things. Nor were there guards at the door. It was perfectly easy to walk from cars to the smokehouse without being physically or verbally insulted. Similarly, when the bars closed no groups of drunks descended upon the smokehouse. In the two previous years I saw a total of six drunks in the smokehouse. They were individual cases in which wives and mothers hastily subdued the person into silence or sleep, or they removed them to the cars. In any event, they did not insult dancers or disrupt the proceedings. The only explanation that I can give for the change is that when the groups were disrupting the dances, dancers were a minority out of favour in the community. They were considered strange and there was some active effort on the part of many people to discourage them from participating in dancing. Such attitudes provided no negative sanctions against the disruptive behaviour of youth and young adults. However, in the past few years attitudes have changed. Even those people who do not wish to be dancers are in general support of a revival and a return to a significant Indian activity. They condemn disruptive behaviour and help to keep the drunks at home or away from the area. The secrecy and fear which surrounded dancing is also no longer as prevalent; this 119 diminishes the aura of mystique which drew in the curious. It also removes the threat which some people felt when "grabbing," rather than 9 "jumping," was the main means of recruiting dancers. The lack of threat likely reduces the motivation to attack and disrupt. As a re-sult, the dances are safe and respectable; the prevalent atmosphere which is established is one of dignity. Once people have arrived at the smokehouse and have been seated, they are invited to the kitchen to eat. Sittings usually con-sist of 30-50 people depending on the smokehouse involved. Food ranges from native dishes of fish, venison, or chicken stews with bread and fruit, to more elaborate roasts, cold meat, salads, and fruit. Tea and coffee are always available. When the group is finished, dishes are washed and the table is reset for the next group. I have seen as many as 1,500 people served a meal within a few hours in this manner. One can only admire the efficiency and goodwill with which cooks, dish-washers , and waitresses keep things moving with courtesy and charm. One never feels rushed and one always feels welcomed and well-fed. Having been on the serving side as well as that of guest, I can only add that the camaraderie which evolves in the prepration of food and in the serv-ing of guests, adds a binding quality to existing relationships. Usu-ally, people in the kitchen are relatives of one degree or another. 9. The difference in terms signifies more willingness on the part of potential dancers to become involved. The violence suggested by the term "grabbed" is reduced somewhat in the term "jumped." The latter term is current and new dancers report that no one has been "grabbed", i.e., taken involuntarily to the smokehouse in the past four to five years. 120 Hosts always await the arrival and feeding of a l l invited guests. This may mean a delay in the start of activities i f ferries or car pools are late. As a result, some evening gatherings do not get under way until midnight with some people having arrived at seven. The period of arrival and of waiting for late arrivers and for people to be fed is not a waste of time. It is this period which is used to di-vest oneself of the mundane world, the pressures, the propensity for haste and for action. It is also a good time to visit and to^gossip and to observe. It is also a time for joking, for commenting on how things are being done, of wandering while one can, of wondering if the fireman is going to f a l l into the fire or smoke everyone out, and of watching the situation generally. It is a comfortable and a relaxed warm time. It is a period of getting to know people better and of es-tablishing new contacts. It is a period during which everyone begins a metamorphosis. Stripped of the veneer, people begin to relate in important and meaningful ways albeit they assume a different series of roles. The sense of warmth and acceptance flows through the large group minimizing differences and maximizing their common interest in attending the gathering. People begin to focus on the importance of the events which are about to transpire. By the time the work begins, the group is ready. To walk in and begin immediately would be devastating. The adjustment which takes place in the waiting time is vital to the suc-cess of the gathering upon which people must concentrate and in which they will be involved for many long hours almost totally unaware that they are weary. 121 The dancers also use this time to prepare themselves. New dancers who have difficulty controlling their song, call out and draw the drummers to them. They then dance in front of their local group. This also gives drummers the opportunity to learn the songs of the new initiates which they may not have learned yet. It also gives r i t -ualists time to work on dancers and doctors an opportunity to cure a minor ailment without much circumstance. Smokehouse Activities: Dancing, Curing, and Naming The Dancing Complex Traditional dancing is described by Barnett (1955); Lane (1952) describes the dancing period of the 1950's and Robinson (1962) deals with the 1960's; Kew (19 70) describes Musqueam gatherings of the late '60s and early '70s. Each provides a complementary background for thermaterial which I wish to present here on the changes occurring within the contemporary complex. I witnessed these changes in the 1965-1970 period. I have no doubt that the changes will continue until the smokehouse activities and schedules are congruent with a Canadian life-style. While purists, both Indian and white, sometimes argue that the changes reflect a significant socio-cultural loss, I would argue that the changes enable people to maintain the complex. The increasing involvement of youths, funds ex-pended, and the increasing regular attendance of adults attest the growth of the smokehouse>.culture. The argument made by some Squamish and anthropologists that because content and form are no longer identical to 122 traditional practices means that what exists now is not Salish, is also hardly logical. What now exists is Salish in terms of what Salish peo-ple are now by self-definition. While some of the old people deplore the changes, i t is these changes which are restoring their status and social function to them as a generation. It is the changes which are permitting the youth to gain a strong sense of Indian identity which in turn gives them strength in many other situations. It is the changes which are providing a bridge back to a cultural, social, and personal integrity which can only en-hance the daily lives of the Salish people. Traditionally, the symbolic link between a l l aspects of li f e was expressed through ritual performances, especially purification and dancing, in the bighouses. Gatherings provided the occasion for re-assertion of political and economic status, of social position, and for demonstration of spirit power. Because the system was closed, it was possible to keep family history, social status, and political affairs orderly. Criticism and gossip enabled people to be openly aggressive and to resolve their differences in the large gatherings. This reduced the tensions of living together in such close proximity and it enabled large extended groups to maintain cooperative contacts for economic and political purposes. The opening of the system by the shift to reserves, to wage employment, and to an elective system of political power, drastically changed the means by which social control could be maintained. It also fragmented the mechanisms and ideologies of the smokehouse in ways which effectively disrupted the integrity of the Squamish social system. Where 123 the world view of the Squamish had previously incorporated humans, animals, and spirits along a continuum, i t now began to isolate these categories. Where the economic balance based on a system of resource exchange had been carefully maintained, i t now became increasingly in-equitable as some family heads went to work for wages which they did not share with extended families (especially affines). Where political power had been vested in those of highest status and closely linked with economic skills as well as social ones, i t now became elective and people of no name could control the lives of the big-name people. As a result, family history became greatly diminished as a means of es-tablishing the basis for social and political superiority. Many important things diminished and ceased to be operative. The bighouses began to f a l l into disrepair and ultimately became the churches of the few traditional people rather than the center of many Squamish activi-ties. Meanwhile, Western clerics attempted to alter the last strong-hold of the Squamish — their religion. Many Squamish shifted to Cath-olicism but some continued to keep their rituals alive in the privacy of their homes and by means of very small gatherings of closely a f f i l -iated kin. In contemporary society, participation in the smokehouse al-lows for social and political status only within the group which gathers for any ritual event. There is no parallel set of positions within the current Band system of political power and economic base. While money circulates in the smokehouse, and gatherings are financed at various levels, the system no longer serves its former economic function. 124 The function of money within the smokehouse is ostentation. If a person can finance a large gathering, feed his guests well, and dis-tribute considerable funds, he will gain status. He will not necessarily regain his distribution monies at someone else's gathering. He must con-sider his expenditures as an acquisition of social status and not as a direct economic investment the return from which will be guaranteed. The focus of ritual power rests with the senior dancers in the smokehouse. These are very few in number and their power is circumscribed by the nature of their activities. Outside the smokehouse, where the real base of power is, they have l i t t l e or none. With a few notable ex-ceptions, men who hold power in the Band political system do not belong to the smokehouse. And while a few Councillors are also dancers, they generally hold minor positions on Council and none in the smokehouse. Socially, the status system vjw.ithin the smokehouse is begin-ning to revive but with some considerable change. Social and political status within the bighouses was based on family history and status. In a contemporary Western system, traditional name means nothing unless the Squamish individual has other special means through which he can accumu-late money and power within the political system of the current Band ad-ministration. Within the contemporary smokehouse, names and family his-tory have become somewhat confused in many instances so that individuals having dubious claim to status through names can legitimize that status i f they have sufficient funds. With the exception of a few old people, no one can assert with certainty that an individual cannot claim a certain name. As a result, he may be gossiped about but no one will stop him. Once the name is acquired, the status attached to i t is also acquired. 125 During the 1950's and 1960's, the smokehouse was a center for religious gatherings of people who s t i l l believed in things like spirit power, and who had traditional concepts of importance of their family within the system. As a result, there was some modicum of sense of importance, power, and legitimate claim to proper treatment. As such, attendance reinforced a sense of personal worth and fulfilment for adults. Comparatively few of the youths were involved. People s t i l l feared of-fending the priests and, until the revision of the Act in 1952, it was s t i l l illegal to gather for ritual purposes i f distribution of goods and money was involved. Some families kept the system alive but larger gath-erings collected a modest 50 to 500 people while small dances might draw as few as 20 people. With the revision of the Act in 1952, no mention was made of Indian gatherings. This removed the fear of fines and imprisonment for those caught in ritual gatherings which involved distribution. It also brought into the open those people who s t i l l wished to participate but who had feared to do so. Squamish people recall that, about this time, the power of the Catholic church over the lives of Indian people was declining. People who had not been openly defiant now became so. Young parents, reared in the Roman Catholic residential school system, began to realize what the church had accomplished in the destruction of their sense of self-worth, their language, and culture. So, while many did not join the smokehouse in reaction to Catholicism, several families did stop attending church and they did stop openly opposing smokehouse activities. Other people began to learn something about i t and more went to observe the big dances. 126 People began to search for ways in which positive images of Indians could be reinforced even i f only among themselves. Attendance at dances in 1970 averaged about 125 for small dances, and from 500 to 3,000 for big dances. The number of initiates over the past three seasons now averages about 30 people. Communities which have no smokehouse have people initiated in other communities. The average age of new dancers is 18-25 years. The average cost of an initiation runs from $800 to $2,000, depending on size, type of food, and number of kin available for helping; i t also is determined by whether a single family is sponsoring the event or whether a combined family group is doing so. Becoming a Dancer Traditionally, anyone could become a dancer and the means of doing so were to go on a successful vision quest. Success in the guar-dian spirit quest produced a set of symptoms, readily interpreted by the local group, and reacted to by the ritualists. Symptons were cured through the initiation process. Once initiated, the dancer had special status and subsequently also had special responsibility. The special sta-tus acquired by the dancer was not related to his social status ascribed by birth. Since high-status people had more wealth than lower-status people, they could sponsor larger and more elaborate gatherings to demon-strate their spirit power (and social position and wealth), and so en-hanced their status again. 127 Not a l l people were successful in their quest for a guardian spirit but presumably everyone desired to obtain spirit power since they conceived that having a spirit helper made l i f e fuller and easier. A spirit helper enhanced the personal qualities of an individual, making him more efficient and expert at whatever he/she did. Thus, men became better hunters and providers with a spirit helper; women had healthier children ,and became more skilled in food gathering and preserving i f they had spirit helpers. Having a spirit helper also endangered one's existence unless special precautions were taken through ritual purifi-cation, and other means, to protect the individual from having his spi-r i t dispossessed by a stronger one, or a malevolent one. Loss of spirit power could mean death to the individual because i f the spirit left its host it might take with i t the individual's l i f e force or soul. In general, people desired to acquire-spirit power more than they feared i t . Spirits were expressed through a song and an individual expressed the song through dancing, that is, the sense of power f i l l i n g the individual with the song also moved him to dance. The dance could only be done by the individual and the song was sung by singers with drums who helped him get his song out. It was sacred personal property and dire results came of another individual's imitating a dancer's song or dance. A change in English terminology has occurred in the past five years. Dancers have become "singers," initiates have become "babies," attendants have become "babysitters." The changes may reflect a more purist ideology since, in effect, the important part of spirit expres-sion is the song and not the dance. The shift in the other terms may 128 also be a function of transferring Christian concepts. Indian dancers who are English speakers, and who were — or are — Catholics, have adopted the terms used by the church in reference to rebirth through spiritual activity. The Squamish refer to naming ceremonies in the smokehouse as "baptisms." The "baby" term is used as part of a concept that through spirit initiation the individual is being reborn, knows nothing, and must be carefully taught how to. behave. The socialization process is the responsibility of the babysitters and the ritualists who maintain the rules. A change in behaviour is often expected of initiates and sometimes -is. the reason for initiation. For example, a person who is beginning to drink heavily may be sponsored as a dancer by a concerned family. The initiation often stops the drinking and the individual be-comes a "new" person. He also becomes a "better" person and so old and new concepts merge in the ideology of rebirth and resocialization. Spi-r i t quests are no longer demanded in order to become a dancer. Tradi-tionally, a person encountered his, or herj spirit while on a solitary stay in the woods, or in a menstrual tent. Now, power may be "breathed" into a person by a ritualist, and especially by a doctor who knows that an individual wishes to become a dancer. A person may also acquire spi-rit power by association with someone who has "strong" power. Some Squa-mish believe that spirits cluster in constellations and someone with "strong" power will also have hovering nearby a collection of "weak" powers, one of which could come to lodge in an individual constantly ex-posed to them. A ritualist, or a doctor, who has more than one spirit helper could give one to an aspiring dancer. 129 Once an individual becomes aahost to a s p i r i t power, he sickens in the same way that his grandparents and members of other generations did. He begins to get disoriented; he sleeps a lot and is d i f f i c u l t to waken; he is l i s t l e s s while awake, or he is very volatile and uncontrol-lable .— "not at a l l like himself"; he begins to weaken and cannot eat. He is sick. The Squamish refer to such symptoms as " s p i r i t sickness." An individual with the above symptoms is providing clear evi-dence to the community that he wishes to become a dancer and that he is 10 in possession of a s p i r i t helper. He is sick because becoming the host of a s p i r i t power is personally overwhelming and the average human can-not cope with the experience alone. He needs specific rit u a l help, constant care, and he needs to learn how to handle his power so that he, and not the s p i r i t , is in control of his mind and body. This re-quires i n i t i a t i o n and the direction of the knowledgeable people. Once the family calls the doctor in to treat the symptoms of the individual, a commitment is made on their part to pay his fees and to sponsor a gathering. In actuality, this i s decided earlier when the family member announces his or her intent to become a dancer and seeks the help and advice of a number of people, especially relatives who are 10. Some Squamish claim that this process of sickening is unconscious and that they are not aware of their s p i r i t power until they become aware of the significance of their illness. Others state that they consciously seek the illness state which is confirmation of their success, particularly in acquiring power which has been derived from someone else, i.e., has been "breathed into" them, etc. Whether conscious or unconscious, I believe the symptoms express their own reality as well as that of effective socialization into the dancing complex, i.e., the symptoms are culturally determined. 130 dancers. Funds for initiation are obtained in a variety of ways. The aspirant dancer may earn them. I know of two cases where young girls played Bingo, regularly winning from $25 to $100 a week and saving i t until they had sufficient funds to sponsor themselves. Another person won a car which she sold and then had all the money she needed to hold her initiation. Families sponsor children in instances where they can afford i t , and while some wives may play Bingo, knit sweaters, and do other work, their husbands are expected to also contribute earnings to-wards their ceremonies or those of their children. Sometimes individuals must sponsor themselves as families are opposed to their involvement. Increasing pressure is being placed upon parents by youths who wish to become dancers or, more commonly, who wish to claim their names. The initiation ceremonies take four days and depending on f i -nancing may also include a naming ceremony and a purification ceremony. The individual is lodged in the smokehouse in a "tent." The tent con-sists of an alcove of blankets hung from rafters to form a private cu-bicle where the person is put down. Sleeping bags or more blankets are used for mattresses and covers. During the time of initiation, the in-dividual is kept isolated from other initiates also in the house, from fam-ilyyCexcept for the sitter who is kin), and from contaminating ar-ticles and food. He is fed ritual foods after a period during which he may only drink tepid water through a reed. Initiates use their own dishes and usually have kinsmen as babysitters. Babysitters are res-ponsible for the protection of initiates from contaminated dishes, food, contact with non-ritualists, and a variety bf other people and things. 131 The aspirant dancer is jumped while in attendance at a spi-ri t dance. Both the individual and the family know that at some point in the evening, the individual will be jumped by other dancers. Peo-ple coming to attend the event prefer to sit in areas distant from the family involved so that they will not be endangered by loose spirits or i f they have power themselves, their power will not desert them in the presence of stronger ones. Also, people coming in close contact with new spirit powers are in danger of having one lodge in them. If they wish to avoid becoming sick, they need to avoid the close contact at the time of the jumping. Usually the ritualists will warn family members just prior to the jumping so that they may leave the smokehouse. Close kin do not like to see their mates or children jumped and often will go to a friend's house and await the news that the intiate has been put down. They then return to the smokehouse, pay the dancers who jumped the individual, and the witnesses. They ensure that the individual is comfortable for the night, and they return home with relatives who keep them company during the remainder of the initiation. Such company in-volves comfort but it also means considerable help with food preparation for the nightly rituals and for the large gathering on the fourth night when the person is costumed and stood up to perform publicly for the first time. The jumping is perceptibly violent.: The initiate is usually seated on the first or second row of seats. Four dancers, accompanied by the ritualists of the smokehouse involved and sometimes by the doctor as well, will come from a corner of the kitchen and suddenly take hold 132 of the person. The dancers grab the person by the arms and legs; one holds the head. They then run around the fires, calling out, and shak-ing and pummeling the individual. Sometimes they bite as well. The effect can make the individual hysterical or unconscious. Naturally, the victim screams. If he is well socialized in smokehouse ritual, his screams assume some regularity of sound. This is interpreted as the spirit's song beginning to emerge. If a person has been uncon-scious momentarily, when he recovers he moans or cries out; people ac-cept this as evidence that the spirit has lodged within the individual. The person is then put down. He is clothed in a heavy sweater-;,. A ker-chief is put over his face so the spirit cannot escape through eyes, ears, nose or mouth; a belt or tie of some sort is put around his waist to con-trol his movements as he can be quite disoriented. . He is then bedded down for the night. One fire is left burning and the sitters take up their vigils. During a jumping, other new dancers are carefully protected from the excitement by being put in their tents or by having their heads covered with several blankets. The excitement could dislodge their new powers. The excitement causes them to call out or attempt to dance. They are permitted to call out but not to dance and kin will form circles around them should they stand up. While the jumping can be upsetting because of its violence — and because of the seeming chaos as other dancers call out, tremble with excitement, and generally add to the noise and confusion — there is also a strong underlying sense of concern, warmth, and protection which communieatesritselfotolaldrpresent. 133 Morning comes early in the smokehouse because witnesses and sometimes ritualists must go to work. Therefore, ritual activities must be completed before seven or eight o'clock in the morning. These ac-tivities include the ritual bathing of the individual which simply means that buckets of cold water are thrown at the initiate who is semi-stripped 11 and in the middle of the floor. He is then dried with cedar boughs and dressed by the sitters. Sometimes, on the fourth day, there may be more elaborate purification; then people will be invited, masked dancers will come and witnesses will be paid. Following the bathing, or purification, the initiates drink water through a reed and then are worked on. This involves sitters and ritualists drawing out the song of the initiate. The ritualists work on a l l initiates in the tents in turn. This goes on through the day with intervening periods of rest and meals for those initiates and attendants who are permitted to eat, i.e., the initiates who have passed their four-day period and who have been stood up. Initiates must stay in the smokehouse for the four days of their initiation, but may stay for their first sea-son i f they wish. Otherwise, they go home but must be constantly atten-ded and remain in costume until i t is ritually removed at the end of the first dancing season. Through the next three days, then, the initiate basically learns how to beha\e as a dancer. He learns to use his staff, to enter and exit with face the right way, to eat the proper foods according to 11. Dancers.: are s t i l l taken to the mountain streams in the Squamish area on occasion. 134 rules which prohibit anything too hot or too cold and a l l alcoholic bev-12 erages. He becomes more confident of his dance and of his song. On the fourth day of initiation the family calls special guests to witness the "standing up" of the new dancer. While people have been in the smokehouse each night to lend support to the proceedings, those gatherings are informal and casual. A spirit of camaraderie and relax-ation prevails and people who attend are usually relatives. No one is there by invitation and apart from tea or coffee, no food is served, nor are people met by a host and seated. Attendance of "regulars" at these informal events sometimes is a good predictor of who next season's dan-cers may be. On the fourth night, the family of the initiate sponsors a small dance and invites local people to attend. On this occasion, a family member greets and seats guests; food may be served before or af-ter the dancer is stood up. Events begin around 7:00 p.m. and end about 10:00 p.m.; this is because small gatherings are held on week nights and people like to get to bed early. The longshoremen, and some of the mill workers, must be at work by 7:00 a.m. The initiate is first costumed. The costume is much like that 13 described in the literature except for a few innovations. A dancing shirt is sometimes borrowed by the individual i f he cannot afford to have one made. These are made of black velvet, sometimes sequinned. 12. I have seen ritualists use the tape recorder to record a new dan-cer's song when i t was particularly difficult so that they could listen to i t repeatedly and so the initiate could pick i t up when he was too fatigued to produce i t . I have also seen the tape re-corder used when ritualists had to learn new names and found them difficult to pronounce. 13. Barnett, 1955; Lane,1953; Robinson, 1963. 135 They have rows of wooden paddles which sway freely as the wearer moves. The paddles indicate the person is from a Salish band. The sequins are for effect when the moving fi r e l i g h t flashes off them. Prior to donning the dancing shirt, the i n i t i a t e usually wears a heavy sweater (Cowichan or facsimile). The harness is worn under the shirt or is fixed so that i t becomes a belt. Most male dancers wear knee socks; some of the American men wear red and black sweaters and matching socks; the Cana-dians tend to be more diverse and have no similar "uniform." A l l male dancers wear anklets of deer hoofs which are sometimes strung on a stick which is rattled i f a person does not intend to dance. If he is dancing, however, he wears his hoofs around the ankles. Most men wear runners to dance while women wear ballet-type slippers or loafers. A l l dancers wear kerchiefs and some pull them down over their eyes while they dance. Established dancers wear paint on their face, either black or red. Oxblood shoe polish or ochre i s used for red; black shoe polish or cold cream with ashes is used for black. A l l dancers put their paint on p r i -vately and most enter the smokehouse wearing i t ; some w i l l adjourn to their cars to put i t on later in the evening. A dancer who comes in painted but decides not to dance w i l l remove his paint privately. Initiates are painted by the ri t u a l i s t s or by a senior dancing kinsman on the night they are stood up and on the occasion of their f i r s t dance of the next season. They leave their paint on from the time i t is applied the night they are stood up until the end of the dancing sea-son. At this time they are r i t u a l l y uncosturned and their paint is removed. The i n i t i a t e is covered with ochre paint, i s in a cedar or wool harness, has a dancing shirt put on in some cases, and is handed a staff. 136 The staff has eagle or chicken feathers, cedar streamers, and deer hoofs on it at the top. The dancer carries i t constantly. In addition, the initiate dons a headdress of bonnet on the night he is stood up. The bonnet peaks high above the dancer's head and sends long strands of natural sheep wool and/or human hair down the front and back of the initiate's head. This head piece also has cedar strips and eagle or chicken down in i t . All of these materials are designed to keep ori-fices covered so that the spirit cannot escape. A modern addition to both staff and bonnet is a series of ribbons which bear the name of the new dancer and the date on which they were stood up. Usually, this is done in ballpoint pen but the more elaborate ones are embroidered or sequinned. These are distributed the night of the first dance and are treasured by people receiving them as items of esteem. When not dancing, new dancers wear heavy shawls or blankets which they use to keep warm in the smokehouse but which they also pull over their head should a curing or a jumping be in process or should there be some concern about evil spirits being in the house. The blan-ket provides insulation against danger of spirit or soul-loss. During the standing-up ceremony, the initiate is removed from the tent, stood up, and dressed in his costume. Then the fires are fed. This usually involves the throwing of bread and of ochre into the fires. One belief is that fires contain spirits who may come out if they are not fed or i f they are not ritually recognized. Loose spirits in the house are dangerous because they have more power than the weak new dan-cers , and could abduct the newly-lodged spirit helpers. Spirits also hover near the floor in the house and are malevolent and mischievous in 137 their attempts to trip dancers. Tripping can also dislodge a new spi-ri t or even an old one. Therefore, spirits in the floor vicinity are placated by a ceremony which includes strong dancers running cedar root rings over the floor about one foot above i t , and by the deposit of down. This makes the floor safe for the new dancer and ensures that spirits living in the fires will not attempt abduction. With the com-pletion of these ceremonies, the singers begin the new dancer's song and the initiate dances around the fires. He is held by the harness by a sitter because often dancers are weak from the experience of i n i -tiation; additionally, they cannot see very well with their bonnets so could stumble or f a l l into the fires. It is the grave responsibility of the sitter to ensure that nothing of this sort happens. When the new dancer is seated again, the members of the fam-il y may make speeches of thanks to those who assisted; they will pub-licly pay the doctor, ritualists, sitters, cooks, and witnesses. Their responsibility is discharged with these payments and with the feeding of the guests. One sitter is retained for the season to keep constant care of the new dancer. Throughout the remainder of the season the dancer pays people to walk as witnesses behind him while he is dancing and to help him be seated. After the initiation ceremonies are completed, other new dan-cers living in the tents must dance and have the privilege of doing so before the older dancers. Then any dancer in the house may dance. At these small dances the rules of dancing in a counterclockwise rotation do not apply. When the dancing is finished people are served a light meal and then leave for home. The new dancer may accompany wife or 138 parents home, or may opt to stay in the tent for the season. Most go home. With the increasing number of out-of-town initiates coming to ano-ther community for initiations there are usually five or six tents occupied in the smokehouse, as these dancers cannot go home where there is no one to supervise them. In talking to some of the younger and new Squamish dancers, i t became apparent that, although they were behaving appropriately, in general they had l i t t l e specific knowledge of what they were doing and why. None could explain to me, for example, why they had to put their paint- on privately. Few knew the symbolism of their costumes; fewer knew the religious ideology attached to many of the rituals in which they were involved. I asked some why they were involved in the complex when they were not familiar with the rituals and beliefs attached to the complex. Most responded that they wanted to be "special" people; some fe l t that being a dancer was better than doing nothing; others saw i t as a means of salvation from abusive drinking, or from illness such as depression, marital conflict, and "nothingness." Some saw i t as the most anti-white, anti-Christian thing they could do. In talking to some of the older dancers, i t became clear that they were perceiving a different set of motivations and behaviour. Where youths appeared to be following the rules (but did not know them) , older people perceived them as espousing a religious commitment that signaled a return to traditional ways. Where new dancers did not behave appropriately, old people feared for them and criticized the r i t u a l i s t s for not teaching them properly; but new dancers were not afraid. 139 New rules began to be devised in order to accommodate people who wished to be dancers but who did not want to give up good jobs in order to do so. People had to stay in the smokehouse from November to March, and this meant that i f they were employed they could not go to work. Subsequently, they lost their jobs. Now, dancers need only stay in the smokehouse for four days. Only in the cases of the un-employed must they keep their costumes on for the ritual season. How-ever, i f a person who is initiated is employed, he can take off his cos-tume to go to work. The old people question this, but the new dancers explain the lack of danger by insisting that the doctor can "work on" an initiate so that he is not in danger when at work. I have never seen this kind of "working on" and so cannot describe i t . This change read-ily reflects the ability of the dancing complex to adapt to the exigencies of contemporary life-styles. Small Dances and Big Dances During the time of the study, I attended a series of small dances and regularly attended the big dances. The frequency and the attendance of both altered measurably during the five years I was in-volved. Four new smokehouseswere built on the Mainland in 1970 to 1971; two old ones, one on the Mainland and one on Vancouver Island, burned down. The increase in attendance at dances has necessitated the cur-tailing of invitations to dancers in al l communities. For example, where the Vancouver Island people used-to be regularly invited to big dances at Musqueam, i t would now be impossible to seat them since people 140 from Aggasiz, Capilano and Mission, and Lummi f i l l the smokehouse. The Rosedale, Agassiz and Capilano people use the Musqueam smokehouse for their gatherings, although in 1972 people at both Capilano and Sardis built new smokehouses. Rather than present further general description of dances, I will give accounts of several which I have attended which illustrate many of the points already mentioned, and othersi.which will be noted as we go along. The first item describes an instance in which the system of "grabbing" was s t i l l prevalent, and the problems which oc-curred as a result of the procedures followed. In 1965 on the Island a girl was "grabbed" at the request of her husband's family. The reason for their request was that they felt their son had married-down. They were a big-name family while the girl came from a no-name family. Both the son and his wife had begun to drink heavily. His parents felt that this was the result of the influ-ence of the girl's family who were abusive drinkers. The young couple spent considerable time there and were getting involved in the regular drinking patterns. His family felt, therefore, that i f she became a dancer i t would make a good woman out of her. They arranged the "grab-bing 'without their son's knowledge. They also arranged to pay the costs of a large gathering. One day, as the girl was going to visit her family, she was "grabbed" by four men. They took her to the smokehouse. Her hus-band was not told where she was but found out later that night. He gathered some of his friends, went to the smokehouse, and beat up the attendants. He rescued his wife; in a borrowed car they headed for the safety of Seattle. 141 Both families were mortified. The son's family was shamed by his behaviour, especially the fact that he had beaten up ritualists and other dancers. Her family felt shamed that their daugher would not bring honour to them by persevering through a very difficult ordeal. Both families had to find some means of restoring their status and good name. The boy's family decided to sponsor two nieces who wanted to be dancers; they decided to make i t a very big dance. The girl's family was not sure what to do, and they did not have the money required to sponsor anything since they were on welfare. In Seattle, the young couple were having second thoughts. He had a job at home which he wanted to keep. She was unhappy and lonely without her family. Both wanted to go home but were uncertain what reception awaited them. They decided that she could become a dan-cer; theyheaded homeward. They arrived on the night that the nieces were being stood up. They went directly to the smokehouse. People inside heard with amazement what sounded like a cry of a very weak, sick dancer. While proceedings inside stopped, and ritualists pondered what to do, a messenger came in. He announced to the gathering that the couple had returned, wished to make up the insult of their earlier behaviour, and that the girl was beginning to suffer spirit sickness and needed the doctor's attention. The messenger also announced that her family would pay, not only for her initiation but for the one in process; this would be the retribution of her family to his and to the ritualists. The offer was accepted, the girl was brought in, money circulated, the nieces' ritual was concluded; a new dancer was added to the l i s t . The reported 142 cost of the initiations, and the payments to restore good names, amoun-ted to $2,500. The figure was confirmed by several family members. A Big Dance Big dances are always invitational. One of the present mea-sures for offsetting the high cost of sponsoring a dance, or an i n i -tiation, is for several families to combine events so that expenses are shared. Without the possibility of accumulating sufficient subsis-tence foods, and with relatively low incomes, i t is impossible for a nuclear family to host a gathering of 1,000 people. Therefore, extended families group to hold very large gatherings which make i t not only a "big time" but also financially feasible. At a big dance a minimum of 500 people will attend and maximum attendance is from 1,000 to 3,000 per-sons. People enter the smokehouse and wait to be seated by the host who has been hired by the family for the night. To ensure proper recognition, sponsors ask an older dancer or big-name person who knows everyone to seat them in order of importance. After being seated, another family member will invite a group of people (30 to 50) into the kitchen to eat. When dances continue a l l night, breakfast is also served-^, especi-ally to those people who have to travel considerable distances. When al l have arrived and have been fed, the work of the evening begins. The work consists of namings, curings, and dancing. Here I will consider only the dancing. I attended the first big dance of the 1970 season. It was held in the community hall at Rosedale. I drove my grandfather and nine other Squamish to the dance. Our party arrived at 7:30 p.m. on Sat-143 urday and left at 5:00 a.m. on Sunday. We took the usual blankets to sit on, pop to drink, and chocolate on which to munch. We also took 50^  pieces, in case they were needed for distribution, and two drums. The dancers brought their paint, shawls, and drums. We thought we were going to a smokehouse but we were directed to the community hall since the new smokehouse was not yet completed. The dance was sponsored by the initiates from the previous year; the work of the evening in-cluded ritual painting, three namings, one curing, and eventually a series of rituals designed to help a dancer who had fallen. On arrival, we were greeted by the Musqueam ritualist who, with the Lummis, was running the event for the dancers and the Rosedale people. We were seated appropriately with the old man and the dancers in the first row and the rest of us in the second. The children had to give up their chairs and sit on the floor when more guests arrived. We were invited to eat. We had a choice of foods. The native foods consisted of duck soup, barbecued salmon, bannock and fruit. There was also a choice of roast beef, cold ham, salad, fruit, bread, buns, and cake. Tea and coffee were served. When we finished eating we re-turned to our seats and gossiped about people coming in the door. Many people came to greet my grandfather. We also wandered about to greet friends until i t became too crowded. I was one of three whites in the audience. One of the others was the white wife of a Rosedale dancer. The evening opened with a casual air. It seemed as if the older people were saying "let the young dancers run their affairs for tonight." at 10:00 p.m. the ritual painting of the previous season's initiates began. They then returned borrowed dancing shirts, baskets 144 in which they had kept their dishes, and bonnets. This was surprising. Theoretically, headdresses must not be loaned because one individual's power may be stronger than another's and abduct i t when the person re-turns the bonnet. However, that evening one hair bonnet was used in turn by seven dancers; three were returned to previous owners. After the initiates had returned their paraphernalia, they acknowledged the assistance of many people and publicly paid cooks and sitters. Two naming ceremonies followed; one woman was worked on for cancer and one man for his arthritis. The previous year's initiates then commenced the dancing, followed by guests. The Lummis were the first to dance; they were seated on the right inside the main entry. About the fifth person to dance had a dan-cer behind him carrying what appeared to be a carved staff. He fol-lowed the dancer's step in imitative steps and he waved the staff in-stead of his hands. He was not painted but the dancer ahead of him was. The first dancer completed one circle and began another. This is unusual since the normal pattern is to circle once only. The two dancers made the second circle and passed the entry; they were within 20 feet of their seats when the second man f e l l . Falling is a major catastrophe in spirit dancing. Explana-tions for falling rest on two alternatives. One is a natural cause oc-casioned by someone who trips the dancer, or who throws an object out on the floor over which the dancer can trip. The other explanation is a supernatural one which relates to the presence of malevolent spirits which trip the dancer. This phenomenon usually threatens every dancer 145 present because i f malevolent spirits are present they can harm in-numerable people. As soon as the dancer f e l l , the pleasant casual air which had been in the hall dissipated quickly. It was replaced, after a gasp and a hushed silence, with an atmosphere of extreme anxiety closely akin to group panic. The man who had fallen was lifted from the floor by six men and held prone; he appeared to be in a state of collapse. The dancer returned to his seat where he was assisted and his carved staff was picked up by another dancer who completed the circle with it and handed i t back to him. The doctor from Lummi spun into the cen-ter of the floor and began to speak in Straits Salish. He then began to translate for himself. He was visibly upset. What he had to say related to the fact that the Chief of the Rosedale Band had been killed by a train the previous week. The wake had been held in this community hall. The doctor pointed out that he had advised the young people not to hold the gathering at Rosedale because of the closeness of the time to the danger period following the death. He said he had not wanted to order them to cancel the dance or to hold it selsewhere. However, he commented that even on driving up that day he had told his wife that he felt something disastrous could happen. At this point he began to weep. He continued to speak in Straits Salish and did not translate again. The old doctor had begun his speech by yelling in English, "You young people sit down; we'll handle this in the old Indian way." He had then begun his talk in Straits Salish. When he began in English, I assumed i t to be a translation rather than a continuation of his com-146 ments. His concern was that the four days of safety required following the funeral, during which time souls wander in search of other souls, would expire only at midnight on the Saturday on which the dance was to be held. This was considered to be an insufficient margin of time for safety of the dancers. However, the young dancers sponsoring the dance were not really aware of the reasons for his concern; i f they were, they were not sufficiently concerned to act on his advice. As a re-sult, they had exposed everyone to danger. While the doctor spoke, drums were being passed in the audience to collect funds for the relative of the man who had fallen to pay those who had picked him up and to pay the doctor to work on him. One woman who was an aunt of the man who f e l l had appeared to be very drunk ear-lier. She sobered immediately when the man f e l l and was of great as-sistance to him and others in the family. Many people began to cry and there was no doubting the extreme anxiety with which the incident was viewed. The doctor had stopped speaking, the money had been counted and acknowledged, when another disturbing event took place. The wife of the man who had fallen began to tremble, to cry out, and to sing her song. She had reportedly not danced for 15 years; she was not painted. The drummers did not know her song; nor could they seem to learn i t . Several old people went over to try to recall the song and to help her. But they did not succeed. As a result, she did not dance and that meant that she, too, had to be worked on by the doctor. This event added to the strain. From this point on the young dancers sponsoring the event 147 stayed very much in the background. The Lummi dancers and the doctor assumed charge and the dancing began again on a regular basis. The reassurances, the distribution of monies, the speeches and other remedial measures took until 2:00 a.m. Dancing then began again and ended at 5:00 a.m. Breakfast was served, a call having gone out to the KRosedale community for supplies when i t became apparent that people would need to be fed again. Prior to breakfast, and the subsequent deparutre of people, the doctor announced that "-6qW-t'dzLLc" would be performed at Lummi on the following day; he invited people to follow them there now. SqWA/dtiLLc is a purification ceremony performed A to clear the area of evil spirits and to protect the dancers. The pur-ification did not occur until the following weekend when it was held at Tulalip where the largest number of people could attend. The dan-cers explained that the delay was due to the fact that people had to work during the week and that the Lummi people needed time to collect and prepare food. The bqWA^doXJ-C performance was informative and impressive. The doctor who had been so active at Rosedale began the evening with a speech about the need to protect dancers and to purify the house. One young ritualist from Lummi began the ceremony by helping to direct a mask-like piece of wood which had been laid on the floor at one end of the smokehouse. It was a simple one made of cedar and had very crude 14 eyes and mouth carved out. It was not painted. Four men raised the 14. The question has been raised as to whether this was not a is\mi.doJLL(i board with four holes. The dancers with whom I attended the event agree with my observations, i.e., that i t was "like a mask; i t had three holes for eyes and nose." It was used like a board and its deviant form, i f i t is deviant, might be explained by the fact that (continued . . . .) 148 mask about 8 inches off the floor and the young ritualist began to movehis hands; the mask followed his movements and the men appeared to have difficulty holding it so i t would not f a l l as i t moved in arcs around the house. The young ritualist guided the mask around each of the three fires four times; at the end of this circle, the carriers changed and new men began to run the mask through the house. Twelve carriers in a l l transported i t during the ceremony; two were white; only about half were initiated dancers. Two events occurred while the mask circled the house a total of 12 times. The first occurred during the sixth cirelee when the mask 15 stopped at the seat of the doctor; i t rubbed a l l over his body and face. As soon as this happened, he ran into the center of the floor, between two fires and sang his song in a very powerful and beautiful voice. This caused many people to rise to their feet. The second event was a result of the first. When the doctor went into the center, a young man behind him seized the mask and could not let i t go. Gradually, the carriers eased it away from him and continued on their journey. When the purification of the house was completed, the doctor resumed his seat and the normal dancing began. About 2,500 people were in attendance. 14. (Continued . . . .) i t belongs to a man who was just becoming in-volved in assisting with ritual events, i.e., he claimed the here-ditary right to use i t but may not have had sufficient ritual know-ledge to make i t "properly." On the other hand, i t could be an innovative form. 15. The Squamish belief is that the mask has its own power and momen-tum. 149 Curings Another important event which occurs in the smokehouse are curings. Minor curings involving the administration of herbal potions are done by a person with herbal knowledge in the homes of the patients. Curings needing the attention of the r i t u a l i s t s and doctor are done sometimes in the homes with witnesses. More frequently, they are done in the smokehouse. These curings usually involve s p i r i t sickness, soul-loss, or some mental anguish that the individual feels. Some curings are also directed to physical complaints especially those deemed to be terminal such as cancer and tuberculosis in an advanced stage. I witnessed three curings which I suggest are typical. The three types I witnessed had to do with physical complaints, s p i r i t sick-ness, and soul-loss. The doctor at one gathering sent the cedar root ring around the house to "draw out" i l l n e s s . The belief is that the ring has power to confront malevolent spirits lurking in the house, or in human hosts, causing the latter to become i l l . The means of curing, then, is to f i r s t identify in whom the sickness is lodged, and secondly to draw i t out. On this one night the root ring stopped in front of a friend of mine who has cancer. As soon as i t stopped, the r i t u a l i s t s came over and sur-rounded her while the doctor chanted in front of her and using his hands made beckoning motions with his carved stick. Meanwhile, the r i t u a l i s t s sang, rattled their sticks, and supported the g i r l . I do not know what cues indicated that the e v i l s p i r i t causing illness had l e f t the g i r l except, perhaps, that she appeared to go limp after five minutes. 150 The second physical curing that night was performed on a man with a sore arm which was prohibiting him from dancing. I was able to see this curing very well because I was sitting behind the man when the root ring stopped over him. This meant that we had to move quickly, pick up children and miscellany from the floor, and push back chairs in order to give the ritualists room to work. My daughter had been asleep under my chair and I picked her up and held her. While they waited, the ritualists rubbed the cedar root ring over her. The doctor then had room to work on the man and asked him where his illness was. The man replied that his shoulder was arthritic due to an old injury. The doc-tor began to sing and to call out in Straits Salish. At the same time, he rubbed a rattle over the arm and made catching movements as if to indicate that he was attempting to catch the spirit on his rattle. When he was satisfied that he had succeeded, he announced this in Straits Salish; one of the ritualists translated for the group. The doctor then leaned over the man and whispered in English, "A good hot bath would help too." The third curing dealt with soul-loss and was much more drama-tic, although i t was judged to be less successful than the previous two. A man had died leaving an elderly widow. She was suffering from symptoms of soul-loss when the four-day mourning period had ended. She was brought to the smokehouse by her son who was afraid that she was dying. She was seated in the center of the floor and the doctor spoke to her for a few minutes. He then asked for family members to come and stand with her. About 30 people came and stood in rows behind her. The doctor then in-structed the ritualists in procedures. They a l l knelt while he sang a 151 very beautiful song quite unlike any dance songs. This song was a plea to his spirit powers to aid him and protect him in the search for the lost soul. The ritualists then began to shake their sticks as the doc-tor rose to his feet and calling in Straits Salish went reaching into the corners of the house and along the floors. After making his journey he returned to where the ritualists were s t i l l kneeling. He then in-structed them to feed the fires which they did. He then began the same journey again. This time he returned with his hands cupped as i f hold-ing something. He asked the ritualists to sing his dance song, and he danced with his hands in the same position. He then went over to the old lady and "threw" the spirit in his hands at her. She did not respond. The old lady was taken home by her relatives. She died a week later. Namings Naming ceremonies are the last events which will be described. Naming ceremonies vary from community to community and are the least ritualized events held in the smokehouse. While names used to be given shortly after birth, at puberty, at marriage, and upon other occasions, they are now given only at one point in a person's l i f e . A person now also usually receives only one name. A group of people may be named in a single ceremony; I witnessed one ceremony where four generations of the same family received their names concurrently. Genealogical links are not as clearly known as they used to be. With the exception of a few old people, not many families can trace their histories sufficiently well to have absolute assurance that their claim to a name cannot be challenged. Genealogical knowledge varies in 152 several communities with some families having^ l i t t l e knowledge and others being quite well informed. Whether such differences directly reflect the variance of class is not clear. Listening to people attempt-ing to establish their claims, however, i t is evident that their infor-mation is sparse. Means for checking are not readily available often because of their embarrassment involved in asking someone else about these things. Three naming ceremonies, of the many I witnessed, stand out as illustrative of several points. They show the chaos which is prevalent in holding ceremonies without sufficient knowledge and infor-mation at hand to conduct them properly; they show the importance to youth of having a name; and they show the dignity and solemnity with which traditional customs vest the situation. The first naming ceremony I attended was chaotic and broke many of the conventional procedures and legitimacy which exist. It was a joint ceremony at which 12 people from two extended families were given names. In one case the grandmother sponsored her sons and their families; in the other, a mother named her seven sons. The latter cere-mony was the one in which I was involved because the mother of the men is my grandfather's daughter by his first marriage. I was invited to the naming by one son with whom I have a close relationship, and by my grandparents who wanted transportation and assistance. It was also at this gathering that they announced the special relationship they had with my daughter and me and asked the group to "recognize" us. On the way to Squamish, where the naming was being held, my grandmother wept and my grandfather sat in numbed silence. The cause of the grief was that the boys' mother was "stealing" a name. She was 153 giving one of her sons a name which should have been vested on the sen-ior son of her brother (himself a senior son). That grandson was reared by my grandparents in their home and he had been carefully socialized to take over the old man's privileges. The old people were saving up for a ceremony at which they would name a l l the grandchildren. The name in question had been informally "thrown at" the boy already. The daugh-ter did not know this or chose to disregard i t . It was impossible for the old man to t e l l his first-born daughter that she could not use the name. This was one of those situ-ations where "people should know better, especially her." There is no facile or acceptable way in which such errors can be corrected before they are made, except by teaching children very early in l i f e a l l they need to know about family history. This had not been done because the woman had never lived with the old couple as a child; she was raised by her mother who had deserted my grandfather early in the marriage which had been arranged. Therefore, the shame f e l l primarily on the woman but i t f e l l also on my grandparents. In our ignorance, several of us were prepared to say something to the woman, but we were asked not to by the old people because "she should know; the 'big' people will know too; they will not embarrass us by witnessing i t ; they will know how we feel; they will help us." We were at the hall at 3:00 p.m., and greeted by the host, a senior, big-name uncle. We were seated in a front seat close to where the namings would be done. People came over to say "hello"; we did not circulate at a l l . The speaker for the day was from Musqueam, a curious situation since he did not know the Squamish language or names while the 154 host did and could have filled this role. While we waited the sponsor for the other family arrived in her wheel chair and set about to in-struct bhe speaker on proceedings and names. A tape recorder, and mimeo-graphed sheets of the names to be installed, were used to help the spea-ker learn the names. He tried but even with coaching from the old lady and from his uncle, he mispronounced several names and was corrected during the ceremony by the oldllady. The ceremonies began when the hall was full of older people from a variety of communities. The younger people were there too and many were busy helping in the kitchen and elsewhere. One man had been reclaimed from skid road for the afternoon in order to give away his name to one of his nephews. He looked uncomfortably sober. He only re-ceived $5 for his name, another insult. He had a relatively big name and the people felt that he should have been paid considerably more for his generosity in releasing his name. The minimum figure which they mentioned was $25 but no one would estimate a proper maximum. The naming of the old lady's grandchildren proceeded with due ceremony and propriety. At its conclusion, there was an exodus, parti-cularly of the old people, including the old lady who had just finished her naming ceremony. My grandmother informed me that people were leaving because "they will not=stay to witness the insult to us; they are our friends. The people who are staying don't know enough to leave." We, however, were admonished by her to stay and help them bear the insult. The Lummis had arrived but waited outside. 155 The naming of the seven sons was carried out completely in Eng-lish, a direct contrast to the previous one which had been conducted in Halkomelem and translated into Squamish and English. When a l l the people had re-entered the hall after the completion of the second naming cere-mony, my grandfather stood to speak and announced that my daughter and I should be regarded as his grandchildren from now on. We were stood in the middle of the room while he, and a few dancers, spoke on our be-half citing transportation and other assistaneewwehhadpprovided-to dan-cers. Friends of the old man, and of his vintage, stood to speak on his behalf; others called out to acknowledge that they were witnessing the announcement. My grandmother and her eldest granddaughter were making a distribution to these speakers and witnesses at this time. It was a simple affair which had a warmth and acceptance in i t which helped ease the tension and pain associated with the earlier events. The pre-sence and cooperation of the older people helped reassure my grandparents and added to the solemnity of the occasion for my daughter and myself. A more traditional naming ceremony took place in the winter of 1969 at Rosedale. A young man who had been initiated the previous sea-son was given his great uncle's name. The great uncle was also a dancer but he was an elderly man; he felt that the boy who was beginning his ritual l i f e should have a name by which he could be referred to. He decided to give him his name which then meant that the uncle would have to be addressed by his Christian name; no two people in the same family line can use the same name simultaneously. 156 The ceremony began with the boys being draped in a wool blan-ket. The ritualist announced that the boy's uncle was dispossessing himself of his name in order that the boy could use i t . He then an-nounced that from here on the boy would be known by his Indian name, and that his uncle would be called by his English name. At this point the uncle was led into the center and draped with several blankets by the boy's mother and wife; several people went up and gave him money. Dollar bills were pinned to both the uncle's and the boy's blankets. Four old men in the assembly rose to speak lauding the uncle for his generosity. They were given 50$ pieces and blankets. When the speeches admonishing the boy to "live up to his name" were completed, his uncle painted the boy's face and the boy danced. It was a short, impressive ceremony which had dignity and grandeur. It was clear that the gift of the name was greatly appreciated by the boy and his family, and that the uncle was increasing his stature with his generous releasing of the name. This naming was more typical of traditional Salish procedures; i t was completely done in the local language; the use of blankets, the quiet ceremony, and the dignity with which i t was carr-iedd out, attested a well-established ceremonial complex. The final naming to be described was held at Tulalip in 1969. Over 500 people were in attendance. The boy being named was about 12 or 14 years of age. He had been born to a woman at Tulalip but had been released for adoption to white parents in early infancy. His adoptive parents felt that he should have some contact with his - own people, and that he should be permitted to engage in some traditional activity. They 157 had asked the community to name him. I assume they paid for the event since no mention was made of a local sponsor during the naming. The doctor from Lummi officiated. He announced that the boy had been returned to the reserve to take his rightful place among his own people. He then went into a long speech about the negative results of allowing Indian children to be adopted by whites because they are then lost to their own people and have no Indian identity! The boy was draped in a blanket and a kerchief was placed on his head. The ritua-l i s t then asked i f a l l the relatives of the boy would identify themselves to him. About 45 people stood up and they were asked to come to the floor and walk with the boy around the fires; they did so. The boy was then seated. No money or blankets were distributed and no speeches were made when the statement of his name was made. This may have been due to the fact that the name was in dispute, was not a Salish name, or that no one knew the name, or the boy, sufficiently to speak on the occasion. While the ceremony was somewhat sparse, ritually speaking, i t did bring comments from people around us. The essence of the comments was that the naming of the boy was seen as a very positive step and as a means bf reclaiming children lost to the Band. It may be that this ceremony was a forerunner of others which will enable off-reserve Indians, or people of Indian descent who are no longer legally Indians under the Act, to have some significant contact with their communities of birth. 158 Summary Socialization in a ritual setting is an important part of contemporary Squamish l i f e for a large section of the population. Activities in the smokehouse are increasing and families who have not participated for a number of years are now claiming names and helping with the initiation of relatives. Attendance of the Salish throughout the area has increased over the past five years as has the number of new dancers. Such trends reflect an increased concern about self-worth and about general Squamish identity. The trend will likely continue. For many, the socialization process which they undergo in the smokehouse is a second or third process. It is a voluntary one and it is undergone for a variety of personal and family reasons. One major function of the increased activity of the smokehouse families has been to restore a socializing role to the grandparent generation. Parents as well as children are now in the process of learning genealogies, family history and privilege and some of. the Squamish philosophies and beliefs. The smokehouse rituals have altered to accommodate a cash eco-nomy which requires the daily presence of men at work. The ritual sea-son runs from November through March and during this time, initiates are only required to spend four days in the smokehouse. Previously, they were lodged there forethe season. Individuals may also be "worked on" so that they may safely continue employment while undergoing ritual social-ization. Economic costs of sponsoring ritual gatherings and events may be borne by a collection of extended families rather than by one alone. 159 The importance of acquiring an Indian name has varying meaning for individuals. For some people, the naming ceremonies f u l f i l l their desire to be recognized within a social complex which puts high value on traditional status and more so on the very act of claiming. For others, especially youths, some of whom are uncertain about the belief system and the accuracy of their family history and rightful claims to names, the ceremony affirms their Indianness. If one has been at least par-tially socialized in white society, there is sometimes a point at which such ties must be disclaimed and self-worth becomes focussed on the issue of specific Indian identity. Claiming a name or becoming a dan-cer thus becomes the most un-white thing one can do. I anticipate that this ideological, concern with Indianness will increase among the Squamish and that i t will become more important for many individuals to have any name than for a few to have the right name. Individuals not involved in the ritual complex have alternate forms of socialization. These will be discussed in the following chapter on daily socialization of old and new elite families. 160 CHAPTER IV THE SQUAMISH FAMILY: SETTING FOR DAILY SOCIALIZATION This chapter provides the information necessary to an under-standing of the daily pattern of li f e at Capilano which is the context for socialization of children. I will report some general concepts held by the Squamish which affect their choice of socialization prac-tices; these reflect some traditional ideas as well as contemporary ones. As well, I will describe two family situations which represent the two main life-styles on the reserve. The presentation will make the two selected families appear to be opposite in values, orienta-tion, and goals of child-rearing. While such complete contrasts do exist among families at Capilano, there is also a considerable overlap in all of these areas. Orientations shift from time to time; and, while some families may be seen as contrasting completely, others over-lap in their concerns and perceptions at different times. This gener-alized material is not presented as immutable fact, therefore, but as a representation of the stance of various families at any given time. Squamish Beliefs and Attitudes About Conception and Birth Some elderly Squamish women reported that they were taught by their ggr.andparents that conception was the result of penetration by a spirit. Men aided in this process of "opening the way." The child was perceived to be part of the woman and part of the spirit. Paternity was thus social not biological. The father's instruction and presence was important to children, especially sons, and since he was viewed as 161 the person who had made conception possible, he was expected to develop a warm and meaningful relationship with his children. Monogamous re-lationships were viewed as important since the ability to conceive was also dependent on ritual purity involving both the man and the woman concerned. A mate had to be from the proper category of person as well. People who adhered to the regulations had successful healthy pregnancies and bore healthy children. Some people believed that the child found the spirit through whom he had been conceived when he undertook his spirit quest. Children who were born defective, or who were deformed, were the result of a breach of regulations, or taboos, associated with preg-nancy. The birth of twins was also viewed as a result of a breach of the regulations by one of the parents. People who had twins were ex-pected to leave the community so that others would not be placed in danger by the malevolent power twins were believed to have. In some cases, If a mid-wife could discern that a woman was carrying twins, she would attempt to abort them, or there would be an attempt to abort one and keep the other alive. When a woman produced an epileptic child, people believed that she had broken the food taboos associated with pregnancy; she, rather than the child, was avoided and shamed. The in-cidence of epilepsy in children does not seem to have been high; that is, people recall only one or two cases in their lifetime. Only a few women at Capilano said that they had heard the above concepts associated with pregnancy and birth. Two of the older women who had been midwives attested to the accuracy of such "old" beliefs but hastened to add that they had learned differently as they grew older. 162 At the same time, they expressed some concern about the lack of proper procedures followed by young people today, about their perceived pro-miscuity — especially that of the men — and about the lack of know-ledge young people have in caring properly for their children. The older women particularly opposed the practice of contraception, becom-ing sterilized (except i f i l l ) , and aborting. They viewed such attitudes and practices as major contributing factors to the breakdown of the family. There was a mixture of traditional and Catholic moral judgments stated and implied in a variety of conversations on such matters. Most of the women with whom I talked were aware of the means and physiology of conception. A l l have knowledge about most of the con-traceptive measures available to them. Only a third of the women at Capilano use such devices; 15 women have had hysterectomies or tubal ligations. Several women spoke of wanting to have tubal ligations but they had not yet confronted their husbands on the matter; they stated that the men would not allow them to be sterilized i f they knew about i t . Some of the women who had been sterilized had done so at the time of the birth of their last child and without the husband's knowledge or consent. Only one man on the reserve had been voluntarily sterilized. The value attached to producing children is extremely high. Men view large families as evidence of their masculinity and ability to provide well. Women feel that their femininity is proven by bearing children, being good mothers, and raising their children properly. Their expectations and sense of worth are closely linked with having proved they can produce and raise children. A woman is not considered to be a good woman by either women or men unless she can, and will, have 163 children. Young wives who do not conceive within the first few years of marriage are looked upon with suspicion, concern, or disdain depending on whether they are "trying" to have children or avoiding it purposely. People speak of women as being "of no use to a man" unless she is fertile and productive. Most men and women seem to share this belief. Since the value of children is a basic concern, people consider the choice of a mate carefully in most instances, tolerate lesss than satisfactory relationships, and view sterilization, abortion, and divorce from cultural as well as economic and personal perspectives. Sterilization The only ground for sterilization which is generally approved is when a woman has cancer which has been diagnosed and if she had tried some treatment over a period of time which has been ineffective. While such a procedure is accepted, the statements which surround the event are generally negative: "she had to have an operation"; "the doctor told her she would die i f she didn't do that"; "she didn't have any choice." People console and comforfet the individual and take care not to offend her by bringing young babies to her house until she has recov-ered from the effect of knowing she cannot bear any more children. Wo-men who have not proven they have cancer, and who presumably decided with their doctors that they would have a voluntary ligation, sometimes defend themselves by stating, "the doctor did that to me when I had my boy; I never knew that he was going to do that; they do that to a l l the Indian women who come in to ... hospital." It is possible that some women signed the sterilization forms without full thought; i t is unlikely that the oper-164 a t i o n was p e r f o r m e d w i t h o u t a s i g n a t u r e s i n c e s u c h a p r o c e d u r e w o u l d b e . i l l e g a l . Some d o c t o r s s t a t e d t h a t t h e y p e r f o r m e d t h e o p e r a t i o n w i t h o u t c o n s u l t i n g t h e h u s b a n d when i n f o r m e d by t he w i f e t h a t t h e h u s -band was l i v i n g w i t h someone e l s e . Such m e d i c a l d e c i s i o n s f a i l t o t a k e a c c o u n t o f t h e f a c t t h a t most husbands l i v e w i t h someone o t h e r t h a n t h e i r w i v e s a t some p o i n t b u t t h a t t h e y u l t i m a t e l y r e t u r n t o t h e i r o r i g i n a l m a r r i a g e s . W h i l e some women may r e g r e t b e c o m i n g s t e r i l e u n d e r s u c h c i r c u m s t a n c e s , o t h e r s — who h a v e b o r n e t h e b u r d e n o f c a r i n g f o r c h i l d r e n i n t he a b s e n c e o f husbands and t h e i r i ncomes — d e c i d e u n i l a t e r a l l y t h a t t h e y have had enough c h i l d r e n . A b o r t i o n s The o l d e r women s t a t e t h a t some a b o r t i v e p o t i o n s w e r e u s e d b y m i d w i v e s u n d e r c e r t a i n c i r c u m s t a n c e s . The p r o c e d u r e d e s c r i b e d most f r e q u e n t l y was t h e a d m i n i s t r a t i o n o f a h e r b a l t e a w h i c h c a u s e d s e v e r e c o n t r a c t i o n s , t h u s c a u s i n g t he f o e t u s t o be e x p e l l e d f r o m t h e u t e r u s . A c c o r d i n g t o r e p o r t s , s u c h p r o c e d u r e s p r o d u c e d no b l e e d i n g o r c o m p l i c a -t i o n s b u t was o n l y done p r i o r i - t o f o u r months g e s t a t i o n . N o r we re a b o r -t i o n s done f r e q u e n t l y , o r w i t h o u t some f a m i l y p r e s s u r e on t h e i n d i v i d u a l . A g r a n d m o t h e r m i g h t a b o r t a g r a n d d a u g h t e r who h a d b e e n s e x u a l l y i n d i s c r e e t and who d i d n o t w i s h t o ma^ry t he man' i n v o l v e d . Somet imes i t was t he i f a m i l y who r e f u s e d to a l l o w \ t h e g i r l t o ma r r y i f t h e man was n o t c o n s i d -e r e d t o b e a s u i t a b l e m a t e . I n many c a s e s , p r e g n a n c y s i m p l y h a s t e n e d t h e m a r r i a g e i f t h e f a m i l i e s c o n c e r n e d we re a g r e e a b l e t o t h e u n i o n . A good Squamish woman d i d n o t become p r e g n a n t p r i o r t o m a r r i a g e . T h e r e w a s , t h e r e f o r e , c o n s i d e r a b l e shame a t t a c h e d t o p r e m a r i t a l s e x u a l i n v o l v e -165 ment and i f a marriage were not arranged, occasionally a discreet abor-tion was requested from a knowledgeable person. It was important to the girl's future that her pregnancy not be widely known since such knowledge would decrease her status as a potential mate. Abortions are attempted at Capilano at the present time. The four cases which occurred in 1968-70 were ones which involved married women. In two cases, they were successful and in the other two, they failed and the pregnancy was completed. Potassium permanganate is used to produce contractions. It also produces severe bleeding which can require a dilatation and curettage. Should the foetus have not been ex-pelled, the dilatation and curtetage completes the abortion. Such pro-cedures subject the woman to a high risk. The permanganate can l i t e r -ally burn holes in the uterus; i t can cause severe bleeding without ex-pelling the foetus; i t can cause continuing minimal bleeding without ac-complishing its end; it causes excruciating cramps which can persist as long as a week, and i t induces severe vomiting in some cases. It may also harm the foetus i f i t is not expelled. Legal abortions would be readily available to most Capilano women requesting them on economic grounds and on grounds of mental and physical health. This is a recent situation, however, since prior to the introduction of medicare, the contract hospital for a l l Squamish was St. Paul's which was Roman Catholic; no voluntary sterilization or abortions were permitted there. In general, Squamish women do not seem to be aware of the availability of legal abortions. In addition, the cultural features associated with the need to be fertile which were dis-166 cussed above remain a major concern in any decision-making. A self-induced abortion can be overlooked as a result of a hastily-made deci-sion: "she was upset; she wouldn't have done i t i f she had thought about i t " ; "she did i t after X beat her up; she wanted to punish him by taking his child away"; "she was drunk; she'd never had done i t in her right mind." A legal abortion based on a voluntary decision could not be as culturally acceptable. No abortion attempts were made by young unmarried mothers dur-ing the study period. They seemed to accept their pregnancies and children with equanimity. In most such cases, the mother and child lived with her parents. The incidence of such pregnancies is not high; three unmarried women had children during the time of the study. While preg-nancies prior to marriage s t i l l evoke gossip and concern, the repercus-sions are not severe and both mother and child are accepted in the com-munity. The gossip stops with the birth of the child since people do not want to hurt the child or make him think he is unwelcome. The Band, which used to refuse registration of progeny unless Squamish paternity could be proved, now registers the children under the mother. In addi-tion, they pay the mother from welfare funds for six months and then continue to support the child i f the mother is not employed. One indi-vidual explained the change in policy to me as evidence that the Band had realized that "we need more Indians." Birth The birth of a child is always considered an important event even when parents have expressed ambivalence or negative feelings about 167 another pregnancy. Once the child comes, he is welcome. Apart from the reinforcing of feelings of femininity and masculinity which have been discussed above, the child brings his own special characteristics and interests into the family. People watch him daily to determine how he is growing, which of his ancestors he will be similar to, what his nature will be. Young siblings and elderly grandparents a l l await his unfolding. In the past, children were delivered by a midwife, usually a grandparent or senior aunt. The event was a ritual one in which preg-nancy was terminated by the birth and by the following ritual purifica-tion. The child came into the world and into the presence of his extended female kin. He and his mother were carefully tended by such kin until she regained her strength and he began to acquire his. Older siblings participated in the birth i f they were female and they assumed respon-sibility fordiis care from the outset. His birth was a family event as well as a community one. In present Squamish l i f e , children are born in hospital. The event is no longer a ritual one nor is i t one in which the extended fam-ily can participate until the child comes home from the hospital. The child is delivered into a circle of strangers rather than kin; the mother is tended by strangers too until the time she arrives home where a rela-tive or older child may assist her while she recovers from the delivery. Most young Capilano mothers have never seen a child delivered nor parti-cipated in ritual events surrounding the birth of a child. They do not regret their hospitalization, therefore, and most view their stay there as a relief from normal family responsibilities and as a "holiday." This 168 is particularly true of women who have several young children at home; they feel that their hospital stay gives them time to recuperate be-fore they have to care for a large family again in addition to the new baby. Some doctors assist the mothers in extending their stay beyond the standard five days in order to allow them this fu l l recovery time. A newborn baby is treated deferentially. Most young Squamish mothers disclaim any knowledge about the spirit world and the possibil-ity of spirits residing in an infant host. Some, however, have been told stories by grandparents who believe that the child will only stay alive i f the spirit which helped to conceive i t is satisfied with the treatment the child receives. If not, the spirit will abduct the l i f e 1 force of the child. The high rate of infant mortality which prevails among Indian groups lends some credence to fears about the vulnerability of neonates to early death, whatever its genesis. Such concerns rein-force the practice of high indulgence in the handling of small infants: he must be kept comfortable, clean, happy, and satisfied. The activity of several family members is directed to this end at any given point in time. The reality of the lack of care afforded some children sometimes explains a death or, i f the infant survives, is explained in terms of his having a'strong" spirit. Squamish people do not directly express any beliefs in rein-carnation. However, some family behaviour and statements provide evidence that there is some element of such a belief. Some children are given 1. British Columbia Indian birth rate is 38.61/1000; infant mortality is 77.44/1000 (Termansen and Ryan, 1969). 169 the name of a deceased relative before birth. When the child is born, older relatives will comment that he looks like the family member after whom he is named. Since there is a prevalent belief among some Squamish that the souls of the dead become spirits or "ghosts" who hover in the vicinity of the deceased person's home^ I conclude that the belief may also be linked with the traditional theory of conception. The child might be imbued with the spirit of the relative after whom he is named. A few people refer to such beliefs with more than casual frequency. As the child grows, personal characteristics which are similar to the ones formerly possessed by the deceased relative are perceived, reinforced, and nurtured. The role of grandparents in the care of neonates has altered considerably since they no longer act as midwives and generally do not live with the parents of the newborn child. In the past, the placenta was handled ritually; the grandmother cut the umbilical cord and wore i t around her neck; this ensured the child protection and healthy devel-opment. The grandparents named the child and instructed the mother on its physical and spiritual care. The father was permitted to see the child but he was not allowed into the delivery tent and had no close contact with the child during the first four months of his l i f e . It was the grandfather who provided the cradle board now no longer used. It was the grandparents who had the ritual and social knowledge to pass to the child, the leisure time in which to tell stories, the time to play with the child while his parents were involved in economic pursuits. In general, such roles have greatly diminished and have in most cases become extinct. Grandmothers do not have access to the child at birth nor to 170 the cord and placenta. Cradle boards or baskets are seldom used; grand-parents infrequently live with their children and so are not involved in the direct care of the child in the early months. Often, their so-cial contact begins when the child becomes mobile and can come to visit them. Some grandparents are only in their 40's and have young children of their own; they are not interested in providing additional care for their young grandchildren; nor do they have any significant ritual or social knowledge to pass on to such grandchildren. Naming Any child can have a number of names. He may receive one prior to birth but he will not use i t until some time later; he may re-ceive an Indian name; he may be called by a nickname and never by his Christian name. Names may be installed on him at different times so that his terms of reference in childhood, young adulthood, and old age may al l be different. Traditionally, Squamish people did not name their children until the danger period (4 months) had passed, and they knew the child was a permanent family member. During this period he was re-ferred to with a term which meant youngest child, younger brother or sister, etc. A newborn child might have a ritual name "thrown at" him at birth but this would not be used until he had i t installed at a later time. In addition, he might inherit other names at adolescence, marriage, the time of birth of his first child, and similar significant times. Ritual naming has been described in Chapter III; terms of reference are now English. Some parents, and particularly grandparents, do not refer directly to a newborn child but refer to "the boy," the "baby," "him." 171 Hospitals (acting for Canada Statistics) demand that the child be regis-tered under a formal, and usually Christian, name. The Act also demands that the child be registered shortly after birth (30 days) if he is to receive a Band number. Such procedures overlie any residual cultural pat-terns of dealing with the neonate without a name. Some patterns prevail, however, and a child called "baby" or "sonny" at birth may be introduced in his 40's by statements like, "This is my baby"; or "This is Sonny, he's my baby." The avoidance of use of specific names may also relate to the taboo placed on the use of names of the recently deceased. Names of individuals who have died are s t i l l not used until after a year's lapse and sometimes longer. If a family participates in ritual events, they will have a memorial about a year after the relative has died (it is sometimes held much later i f money is not immediately available). Dur-ing this memorial, ritual property of the deceased is purified and then may be passed to those who have the right to use i t ; names are released at this time also. Families who do not participate in such events often adhere to the name taboo nevertheless. If the child is to bear the name of a recently-deceased relative, another must be found until the minimum year lapse has passed. Death The death of any Squamish person brings grief to a l l . It is the one life-crisis which merges a l l factions and evokes a universal res-ponse. While adults are greatly mourned when they die, the death of a child seems to evoke a deeper, longer-lasting grief than is evidenced for adults. 172 The deceased remain family members, spoken of in the present tense, counted in geneologies, recalled in stories. The grief expressed by adults who have lost adult relatives is not equivalent to the continuing grief expressed over the death of a child. A wife mourns her husband but her grieving terminates after a period of time. No mother, grand-mother, sibling or cousin ceases to grieve for a dead child. Tears come when the name is mentioned; young children become adults who s t i l l miss their sibling; grandchildren are told about the child who died. The value of children cannot be disputed. General Squamish Beliefs Associated with Socialization Most Capilano families share the belief that children should be highly nurtured in infancy. The nurturance can be provided by any adult and by siblings. Young girls often become "mothers" in role be-fore puberty through being the primary caretaker of a younger sibling. By the time they produce their own children, they arehighly competent to care for them. Nurturance takes the form of constant attention, feeding on demand, acquiescing to the natural rhythm of the child as far as weaning and toilet training are concerned. In order to obtain such care, the child needs to be where the adults are; he is mobile at an early age, therefore, being taken by an adult to a gathering, shopping, to do laundry; siblings take him to the corner store, the baseball game, and to many of their other activities. In this way, the rhythm of adult and older sibling activities is also maintained. If i t is not possible to take the child to such activities, the grandmother, an aunt or another relative will be asked to care for him over a short period. Members of 173 that household will treat him to the same attention that he receives at home. Such care is optimal emotionally. Squamish people share the belief that children should be left free to develop in their own ways restricted only by minimal safety fea-tures. This concept of autonomy is made explicit in many ways within the culture; individuals are viewed as ultimately responsible for their own affairs; i f they make bad decisions, they are to be pitied not con-demned. In the same way, i f the child must learn by doing things the wrong way, he will be allowed to make his mistakes and learn from them. The autonomy which young children have helpsmature them and enables them to be much more independent and innovative than their white counter-parts. Such autonomy also brings the child into conflict with the school personnel who find i t difficult to accept that attendance and other mat-ters are the child's decisions, not parental ones. Disciplinary philosophies are also shared by many Squamish. The stated ideal behaviour is that no parent should discipline a child harshly, either verbally or physically. Few Squamish mothers hit their children or scream at them. When such behaviour does occur, i t is noted as unusual and generally is reflective of some family crisis. Generally, children are spoken to quietly and firmly. The adage that speaking in a quiet voice forces someone to listen is well illustrated at Capilano. Verbal control is prevalent but not abusive. Children are teased about si l l y behaviour, talked about at length for serious infractions, and talked to about undesirable behaviour observed in other children. Great importance is placed on the value of not giving other people the chance to gossip; children learn early that some of their behaviour can shame 174 the name of the family. Such knowledge places fu l l responsibility on the child himself but i t also has the positive effect of leaving him free from continuous harping and imposed controls. Occasionally, verbal controls are stated in projective terms. Children are warned that certain behaviour may provoke a deceased relative who will haunt the child or rebuke him in some way from the spirit world. Use of projective agents is not general but for the few, they are real and effective. Most Squamish people share a body of expectations about what constitutes good behaviour. Such ideals are articulated through the con-cepts of class and status and the appropriateness of any given behaviour at any given time for an individual perceived in certain categories. What is appropriate for one household, therefore, is not necessarily seen as appropriate for another. However, the means of arriving at such a decision are shared, i.e., acceptability is attached to roles, names and family corporate status. The focus of Squamish socialization is not physical development or early resolution of developmental tasks. The focus is on the development of more abstract qualities needed to become a good Squamish person. Such expectations evolve around concepts of honesty, reliability, respect, kindness, generosity, and similar characteristics which involve concern with others rather than onself. The process is reciprocal, however, for a child who learns these things early is treated in a like manner early and receives a great deal of satisfaction from the positive verbal statements as well as the reci-procal services he receives. 175 Squamish people generally prefer children to form their peer groups on the reserve. Peer groups are made up of siblings and cousins. Few children have friends outside the reserve setting or out-2 side their extended families. The term "friend" usually refers to a relative of the same sex with whom the child has a particularly warm relationship. The impact of peers in socializing each other should not be underestimated but the effect is usually one of reinforcement since nuclear groups within the extended family tend to share the same values, perspectives and behaviour. Thus a child who is a member of one nuclear household is defined as a member of an extended family; he uses the other households as his own; his peers are relatives and they al l share the basically similar social atmosphere, restrictions, and privileges. Young parents look to their siblings to reinforce their ideas about ideal socialization, and to deal with some of the problems which arise in one household but which can be resolved while visiting in another. Models, as well as processes, are shared in this way. In Squamish society, a generallyrrheHlbelief is that children are primarily the "property" of women; women are essentially responsible for their socialization. This belief is reflected in the relative lack of contact that males have with children in the first few years of their lives. Men do not share responsibilities for the care of small children. They spend l i t t l e time with them until they are old enough to talk, walk, and to participate in some degree with the father in some of his activities. 2. At the time of the study, only one family allowed their child to visit school friends off the reserve. No white children were seen on the reserve during the same period. 176 In contrast, male siblings do care for their younger siblings but this service tends to drop off as the older boy ages. Generally, an older boy will only care for a younger boy, and after 12 years of age males consider demands for such services as unreasonable. On the other hand, children are also viewed as the "property" of the extended family. This means that i t is acceptable to the parents, and to the child, i f a relative of any degree comments positively or negatively on the be-haviour of the child. Such comments reflect the consensus that children are members of a corporate domestic group any branch of which can be en-hanced or shamed by the behaviour of any single member. Finally, in general, Squamish people believe in the continuity of the socialization process. Therefore, socialization can cover a broad spectrum of time, of agents, and of ends. In contrast to the popular white, middle-class socialization model which views socializa-tion as ideally terminal at some point in early adulthood, the Squamish feel that any person can learn different behaviour as children or adults which will effectively determine their l i f e situation. They view things as task-oriented and as well content-ordered. The ritual socialization which is tertiary for some Squamish adults is a good example of such con-cepts and behaviour. Even if a person is not involved in something as dramatic as becoming a dancer, he can s t i l l always learn ways to become a better Squamish person. It is to this concept of being a good Squamish that a l l roles, behaviour and evaluations attach. 177 Old Elites and New Elites: Differential Socialization The information presented in this section is drawn from ob-servations of a variety of families. I have placed the families on a continuum using a variety of economic and social criteria such as income and involvement in the smokehouse. I have clustered the families at each end and drawn from them gross models of typical families on the re-serve. One cluster constitutes an extended family composed of nine households. The family consists of three senior men (brothers) and their progeny who are currently resident on the reserve as family heads. Their progeny are also noted on the Kinship Chart One and constitute the parents and children (two generations) whose socialization practices were observed. All homes were visited over a period of months but inten-sive interviews were carried out over a 12-month period in households 2, 2a and 2d (see Chart Two, appended). In reviewing the information received from other families of the same status, income,and orientation, I can see nonsignificant disparities in information or interpretation. Therefore, I draw generalizations from these nine households which apply equally to other Capilano families. In the same way, the information gathered in the intensive contacts with the three families mentioned does not differ significantly from that of the other six. Therefore, I use data from a l l nine households to form the composite family discussed below as the new-elite family. I gathered information and compiled i t in the same way for the old elite family. While there is an old elite family also consisting of nine households at Capilano, I had continuing access to only one of 178 those households. Therefore, I have selected for discussion another family which consists of three households at Capilano. Four other house-holds connected to that corporate group are at Squamish where income, housing, and village relationships differ in some significant ways from the urban reserve. Therefore, I have not drawn from that information for the composite family presented below. The family under discussion is listed on Chart Two as family 1, la and Id. The family consists of senior parents, their adult son and-daughter, and their progeny. 1 have used the composite model for several reasons. First, i t is unreasonable to identify any single family, or household, and to present them as representative of anyone but themselves. Since most families share more characteristics than they differ in, i t is reasonable to present a "typical" composite which is not identical with but is sim-ilar to the "real" family. Second, in looking at several households of the same extended family, i t is possible to assess the similarities and differences present in household routines and procedures relating to children. One gets a continuum of exposure and reinforcement which the child experiences since, in fact, he is present in each household for lengthy periods at different times. While his experience in his nuclear family is unique to that household, i t is mediated by other relatives and thus becomes different, common to that of his cousins, and thus some-thing quite different from his i n i t i a l exposure. Third, the use of com-posite models allows for depth as well as analytic generalizations; a detailed account of a particular family and their days fails to accomodate such questions of depth and applicability. 179 The data were collected in several ways: 1) in i t i a l entry into households was obtained through the health survey mentioned earlier; 2) I spent a minimum of two hours a week with each household which agreed to participate in interviews and child observations; 3) I had contact with members of the extended family as they came in and out of the household in which I was visiting; some of these led to interviews with grandparents or with parents' siblings; 4) I attended most ritual and recreational events held on the reserve which members of the study households attended; I was able to observe children at these as well as mother-father, mother-child, and father-child behaviour; in addition, many relatives attended such events so i t was possible to see the child with several members of his extended family simultaneously; 5) I was sometimes invited to specific family gatherings and these afforded spe-cial opportunities to observe relationships and behaviour of adults and children; 6) I spent some time in bars with friends and was able to talk to the men in such circumstances. The data collected have some inherent biases as outlined in the Introduction. The most notable one is the female one; approximately 90% of my time was spent with women and their children. Male views and ob-servations of male behaviour are therefore lacking. This may not be entirely negative since women are primarily responsible for children in any society. However, such a bias leaves certain questions unanswered, for example,, the question of whether men are excluded actively from the socialization process in the early years or whether they simply are not there by their own choice. It also raises the question as to when the 180 identification process of small boys begins and what models are avail-able to him in the absence of fathers. These questions can only be partially answered with the data I have. Some of the statements which appear in the discussion of the families will appear erroneous to Squamish readers and perhaps to others. One reason for this is the unperceived discrepancy between ideal behaviour as stated in the philosophy of socialization and the observed behaviour. My descriptions follow the latter, linking to the former where possible. The statement of discrepancy is not a judgment, simply a statement. Peo-ple often describe behaviour in terms of their aspirations rather than in terms of the real alternatives available to them. Young parents are more idealistic than older ones. In addition, some explanations of how the observed behaviour differed from what the parent said was happening, or would happen, may be in error; the observer is not always in the posi-tion to evaluate what is being observed. An example of such a situation is the apparent lack of concern observed on the part of a parent when a child is in a potentially dangerous situation. One might deduce that parents do not care if the child is injured. This is not so, and i f there is a lack of commands, or the child is not removed from the situation, one must turn for explanations to the concepts of autonomy and to the philosophy of non-intervention. There is no lack of concern or affection; some situations simply do not call for intervention in the perception of the parent. One cannot only observe and discuss, therefore; one must also learn the philosophy and beliefs which determine the perceptions which induce behaviour. Where such learning is imperfect, as i t is in my case, one can only offer cautious interpretations and continue to seek information. 181 The Important People: Old and New Concepts Defining Elites Squamish people often refer to a person as "important." This term is used in a variety of ways by different people. The people who are elected to Council are "important" when they are acting in that cap-acity. This means the individual draws power from his position and that both his role and his access to political power enhance his status in the community as long as he behaves in ways defined to be appropriate  to his role and status. People who have favours or jobs or cash to give away are important to know, and important to the family who depend on them for such benefits. A man also adds to his importance i f he has a position of note in the white world, i.e., as a union executive, or as a director of a club. Money (and its obvious expenditures), political power and position, and a demonstrated ability to deal with the white world constitute the criteria attached to being part of the new elite. Since success at each of these things produces visible results, people are able to evaluate the degree to which a family is elite. The term includes the ascription of a superior status to those families which meet the criteria; the status is self-defined but i t has to be shared by others in the community in order to be functional. Such concepts define the new-elite families at Capilano and are shared by others includ-ing the old-elite families. The old elite draw their importance from another realm. Tra-ditional names, knowledge of family history, right to use ritual privi-leges and property, spirit dancer initiation, and similar traditional criteria determine who are members of the old elite. Such criteria are 182 not particularly visible except at ritual gatherings, and therefore are shared more among the old-elite families themselves and not by the community as a whole. In a few cases only do the ascriptions overlap; for example, one member of Council in 1969 was a spirit dancer and the Band Manager's daughter became an initiated dancer during his tenure; in addition, both he and his wife had claim to big names. In neither case was the Council member one of the major participants in the smoke-house. Within the smokehouse, the old-elite families have varying sta-tus and continue to pass names, information, and property through the generations. Within the reserve community, however, they suffer gen-erally from low income, poor housing, political powerlessness, and limi-ted contacts with whites on their own terms. Each group uses its own cluster of families as a reference group set in opposition, in many instances, to the other group. The sense of importance does not cross the boundaries established by the different reference groups and therefore is not generally reinforced; rather, i t is often threatened. Each group accuses the other of inappropriate behaviour towards important people. As an example, one man stated to me that X who was on Council was related to him through his first cou-sin; he informed me that the individual had promised him a house for several years and had not yet assigned i t ; he stated that X had not met his promise because he was "stupid about those things; he doesn't really believe I'm related to him." He went on to say that the individual had the right to a big name but had never claimed i t because he didn't know what to do to get i t . He concluded the statement by saying that the Council was run by "a bunch of no-names who don't even know who their 183 families are; a l l they think about is their brothers." The general ideas expressed by this man were that no-name people were in control of the world and would ruin i t because they did not know how the world operated. One of the first premises of appropriate government was to acknowledge big-name people and to act like the old heads of the big-houses did, i.e., to be concerned and generous to a l l relatives riot just to immediate and consanguineal kin. Faced with some questions about the budget and operation of Council, the argument of this indi-vidual and others remained the same: if the people on Council knew their names and family history, they would behave more appropriately. When I discussed the question of leadership, responsibility and privilege of Council members with X, I tried to determine whether the concepts expressed by the person who criticized him, were general and considered valid by Council members. I was informed by X that "nobody believes that garbage anymore except a few doddering old peo-ple." When I indicated that some affairs in the smokehouse included a lot of young people, X informed me that "those young people are begin-ning to act like savages again; how are they going to get jobs or learn anything when they are acting like a bunch of wild men? It's really crazy." Such statements reflect not only the differences in perception of two individuals but define the major social and religious differences between various groups at Capilano. Such differences imply major oppo-sitions in values, beliefs, and socialization means and ends as well as many other areas. 184 New-Elite Family Socialization A baby born into a.new elite family comes into a relatively large and well-furnished home. He arrives from hospital with new clothes, new blankets, and often in a plastic baby carrier. Sometimes he is nursed; i f so, he is weaned usually in the first year to a bottle. Often he is on the bottle when he leaves hospital. He and his mother are picked up at the hospital by the father in a good car of this year's vintage. The house, husband, and other children, have been looked after by a girl (of Indian ancestry) hired for the week of mother's absence. The girl may stay on for an extra week or two until the mother recuper-ates. Grandmother may have come with her son to pick up the baby also; if not, she visits on the day of his arrival. Aunts and cousins also come by to drink tea, discuss the birth, and catch mother up on the gos-sip. When darkness falls, the boy is placed in a bassinette or crib in his parents' room and is tended from there throughout the nights. Often mother will have time-saving devices to help.her: a night light, a bottle warmer, disposable diapers or diaper service. Father does not help with infant care; he sleeps through the night. Sometimes, i f the baby is too noisy, he will sleep elsewhere from time to time: at his mother's, sister's, brother's, or with friends in town. The time of pregnancy, and the few weeks after delivery, are occasionally the periods in which husbands choose to seek other female companionship. This increases his wife's emotional stress and she may express resentment toward the baby. Two mothers informed me that the reason that one of their children was sickly, or difficult to manage, 185 was because they had been angry and resentful toward them and did not give them proper love and attention when they were small infants. The crisis passes in most cases and father returns to see his new family member. As the baby grows he may play with him or hold him from time to time. The boy keeps to his own rhythm; he sleeps, eats, and wakes to his internal timer and is gratified to find his needs met as he de-mands. He begins to stay awake longer and to respond to his parents, siblings, and other relatives. The latter begin to comment on his ap-pearance, his manner, and his proclivities. Will he be like uncle or like a cousin? The speculations begin with the first signs of social-ization: a trust and an outwardness that includes the adult world. The boy does not lack for anything; he has good clothes, good food, and constant company. He may, by four or six months,share an older sibling's room. He is in his crib by now. He has toys; he sometimes has a yard or balcony to play on, sleep on, or from which to watch the world. He is never alone except when he himself slips away in sleep. When he is a toddler his mother begins to toilet train himj he is put on the pot from time to time; i f he wets, nothing is said, or a mild statement is made that he might have used his pot. He can eat when he likes and often what he likes. He shares the chips and pop of the older children, and may even go to the corner store with them to return bottles and spend the pennies. He visits his grandmother and his aunts, and he may eat or sleep there. He is a person now, consulted about his wishes, free to be wherever and whatever he chooses. The philosophy of autonomy is in full sway. 186 As the child wanders from household to household within his extended family, he may establish a special relationship with one of his relatives. That individual will do special things with him: t e l l a story, take a walk, go to town, go shopping and indulge the boy with a gift or treat. This relationship will remain stable over the years, and the boy will be the favoured child of that family constellation. This may result in bestowal of privileges later in li f e in the form of a job, a house, a trip, or whatever. Often such relationships evolve because the youngster reminds the adult of one of his children when he was younger, or of a lost relative, or a close friend. With the selec-tion of a favorite household, the child may decrease his visits to other kin. In these ways, he becomes subject to the socializing in-fluence of a variety of kin, both adults and peers. As soon as the child begins to walk and talk, he is regarded as a person capable of making certain decisions regarding his own acti-vities. At the same time, parents begin to decrease the degree of indulgence and make some demands on the child. He is expected to be obedient, to come when he is called, to help with small tasks, to find his own sweater i f going out, and to do a variety of things which are appropriate to his age. It is anticipated that he will fight with his siblings but be constrained in his manner of attack; he is expected to be polite to his elders but not necessarily to his parents. His toys are facsimiles of his older siblings' activities: miniature hockey sticks, lacrosse sticks, and baseballs. He begins early to imitate his older siblings and to separate the tasks which are male and female. He goes out to play the rough games with his brothers and cousins; his 187 sister stays in with her mother or plays quietly in another area. Sex-typed behaviour is well-established by the time the child reaches four and should he divert into less masculine activities, he is quickly in-formed by older siblings, or teased by parents, for "acting like a g i r l ; boys don't do that." By the time a boy is four he has also established a more active relationship with his father. They will roughhouse together; they will go to games and other male activities together, leaving mother and female siblings at home. Sometimes they will just ride in the new car, or go to the liquor store, or go to a relative's household such as father's brother's or his cousin's. The male bond begins to solidify at this time and the separation from mother begins. This is not to say that his affection for mother ceases. It does begin to change, however, and as a result as the male bond increases, so does mother's treatment of him change. By the time he is six mother will cater to him as though he were a man and he will be subject to l i t t l e , i f any, maternal control. Influ-ence is another matter; mothers retain their influence over sons in an affective way even though i t may not be expressed behaviourally. Grown men speak of the gentle and the accommodating mothers they had when they were small and they maintain considerable respect and affection for them as adults. It is as though the parental relationship were bifurcated in those early years separating into distinct realms of relationships which seldom overlap. Since the early years of marriage often include many volatile encounters between parents and long separations from each other, it is not surprising that children view parents as belonging to separate realms. Other cultural features reinforce the bifurcation since mother's 188 kin are reckoned as affines and father's as consanguines. Criticism of parents by relatives also tends to separate the categories of peo-ple seen as mother and father: statements l i k e , "how can the child know what to do when his mother comes from THAT family?" can only leave the child with the impression that mother is very separate from father, not only biologically but culturally and socially. The earliest evidence of male bonding is seen in the reaction to a drunken father arriving home. Children learn social cues early, and by two or three are aware of the tensions or fear created by the arrival of a drunken father. His arrival i s perceived in several ways: i f he i s in the car, a relative may see him driving unsteadily down the road and w i l l phone the news to his wife; or, he may be weaving his way home on foot and a child w i l l run ahead to warn the family of his a r r i -val; a tow-truck with an identifiable car in tow always alerts the mem-bers of one family that their father has been drinking in town and hired the truck to bring him home because he could not drive; f i n a l l y , a taxi entering the reserve with a solitary male is always the basis for specu-lation that the passenger is drunk. Small children playing outside w i l l alert their mothers to any of these occurrences. Mothers then react in a variety of ways: they may gather up the children and go out the back door to their mother-in-law's house or to an adult sibling's household; they w i l l stay there for a number of hours, or for the night, depending on the state the husband is in. If he is asleep after a while, they w i l l go home; i f he is disruptive they w i l l not return until he settles down. Alternately, the wife may c a l l the children i n , lock a l l the doors and leave her husband the choice of finding a place to sleep. Children under 189 five tend to be fearful of drunken fathers, to cling to their mothers, or to run independently to their grandmother's or an aunt's. About the end of the fourth year, or in their fifth, the male bonding has altered their perception of such events. Boys become passive watching their fathers approach? they cease to warn their mothers;they sit on the steps watchful and attempting to assess whether they are in danger of abuse. From that time on they sometimes learn to help their fathers to bed, or cater to his demands for food or additional drink, i f the mother and younger siblings have departed. They do not always feel happy or com-fortable about the situation, but they do not turn away from i t . This increases their sense of separateness from the mother but their behaviour is also reinforced by her; i t is "good" to help their father; i t is their responsibility to "stick with the family." The male "service" orientation is a part of mother's heritage also. The cultural demands of the situation increase both male and female bonding for just as sons are meant to help fathers, daughters are meant to help mothers. During and after such incidents children are exposed to much conversation among kin about proper and improper behaviour. Criticisms of father for drinking or philandering may be put in terms of shaming the family. At the same time, generosity to kin in forms of gifts is also spoken of in terms of good Squamish behaviour. The enculturation of children continues in a more verbal way as the child increases in age; deviant toddler behaviour was controlled with threats of repercussions from projective agents, "the police will get you; the bogey-man will take you away." As the child's verbal abil-ity increases, threats are translated into more recognizable form and 190 children are spoken to, spoken at, and spoken about. In addition, they are privy to a l l the gossip which takes place in their house and in the other households to which they have access. This means that they have ample opportunity to determine what is acceptable behaviour under given circumstances, and what is not. The new-elite mothers also are quite directive in their methods of socialization, and children are frequently told what they can or cannot do. The incidence of intervention is also high so that children are stopped from continuing or starting activities which are seen as inappropriate. For example, a new elite mother see-ing her child, or a neighbour's child, throwing stones at a house or another child will go outside and yell at them to stop. If the activity continues, she will go out and physically remove her child into the house. Inside, she will scold him and may inflict a punishment such as confining him to his room for the afternoon, or saying that he may not go to an outing that evening. She may also threaten him with projec-ted punishment from his father when he comes home. Seldom are such punishments or threats followed through. A child confined to his room for the afternoon is usually outside again within a few minutes; sel-dom do mothers report to fathers the misdemeanors of the children. By the time the child reaches six years of age, he is well-informed about his kin, he has developed certain expectations with re-gard to benefits derivable from them, he knows some of his responsibili-ties toward them, and he has accomplished some of the major tasks of early childhood: weaning, sphincter control, walking, talking, respon-sibility, identification with an extended family; he has become a member of a peer group, has a high degree of autonomy and independence. He also 191 has some defined concepts about the social order of which he is a member and he shares some adult expectations attached to political and economic status. His view is set toward becoming like his male relatives and the male bonding has already altered his perception of, and relation-ship with females, especially his mother and sisters. Aggression is s t i l l expressed physically but teasing is becoming a predominant form; he is acquiring more verbal skills to deal with a variety of people and situations. Shouting insults across the street to non-kin children is a favorite pastime and one which is a good measure of the child's con-cepts of kinship, the most socially repugnant status others can have, and an understanding of their role and status in the social order. The statements shouted across the playing field are seldom random and they have a telling significance. An example of such behaviour occurred one day as I was walking toward a household in Family 2. The children were coming home from school and as I reached the door simultaneously with the six-year-old boy, he and his four-year-old brother began to shout at six-year-old and nine-year-old boys from Family 1. The latter were walking across the lawn of household 2 and were told, "get off our lawn; you're nothing but dirty whites; we don't even know you." The response came immediately; the six-year-old started hitting the four-year-old while the nine-year-old shouted, "we're more Indian than you; we don't have red hair and we know how to behave; we've got names and you don't; you don't know nothing and your father is always drunk; you're a bunch of nobodies." The exchange tells us what the children have learned from adults in their own homes; i t tells us that being white rather than Indian 192 is perceived as negative, and that one important way to hurt someone is to call him white; it also tells us that certain categories of peo-ple do not "know" each other socially even though they may not under-stand the reasons fully; i t also tells us that the process of identifi-cation is strong and well-ingrained by this age as is evidenced by the references to names, nobodies, and drunkenness as measures of status and appropriate knowledge and behaviour. Such insights, commitments, and loyalties will increase within the children as they grow older; they contribute inevitably to the maintenance of the social and poli-tical divisions characteristic of the reserve. At six the child enters school. He may have attended kinder-garten in North Vancouver but he will not have attended the one held in the old federal school on the reserve. New elite parents do not be-lieve in segregated education, and feel that the sooner the children "learn how the whites live, the better off they will be. They have to work and live with them so they may as well start now." Children from new elite homes arrive at school on time, in clean clothes, and with the expectation that they will be in daily attendance and will learn what the school wants them to learn. The members of the parent and grandparent generation of new elite families have higher levels of formal education than do those in the old elite families. Most of the men, for example, have suffi-cient education to have entered the union and trained in the use of highly complex machinery for loading and unloading at the docks. Some hold executive positions with the union, and some have important posi-tions on Council involving administration of large sums of money. Such 193 responsibilities bring good wages as well as prestige. As a result, sons and sons of sons, internalize goals to work with their fathers, cousins, uncles and grandfathers. Education is stressed as one means to that end. Mothers in the new elite group also tend to be emphatic about the value of education. Some have finished Grades X or XII, and recog-nize that they would have to get additional education or training were they to seek employment. Since some wives express the desire to leave their husbands from time to time, they feel encumbered by their lack of formal education. They recognize that they are "trapped on the reserve unless I get some training so I could support myself and the children." They tend to project their own desires onto the children, therefore, and assist them by ensuring that the children are properly clothed, fed, and get to bed on time so they can get up in the mornings. Chil-dren in the new elite homes lose some of their autonomy, therefore, when they start school. Their bedtimes become restricted, their time to come in from play is set, and they do not have the choice of attending school or not. The school emphasizes such,things as cleanliness, orderliness, promptness, and regularity of attendance. In addition, i t requires com-petitiveness, attentiveness, and politeness. To the degree that Indian children meet these demands, i t accepts them. To the degree that they do not, it rejects them and becomes punitive toward them. Tardy chil-dren are sent to the principal; dirty children are sent home; irregular attendance is a matter for criticism; reluctance to compete results in the child's being ignored and sometimes being classified as dull. To 194 the extent that the new elite children meet the demands of the school and the old elite do not, the school serves as a reinforcer of the per-ceived value and superiority of the children from new elite families and the negative rejection of the value of children from other families. As a result, the children of the new elite do succeed at a better rate and are more accepted within the school culture. Although the children are in contact with whites for the first time, their attitudes are not especially negative toward whites and the process of socialization which follows their admission to school is not entirely discordant with their primary socialization at home. In other words, the goals set by parents and shared by children are obtainable in major part through schooling. The schooling process becomes one which is convergent with the primary one and not in opposi-tion to i t . It is a continuation of many of the things already stressed at home and reinforced by the image of highly paid fathers, uncles and grandfathers from work in a white world. It is not a second pro-cess of socialization therefore; i t is a supplementary primary process which broadens the child's experience and purview without in any way disrupting his i n i t i a l learning. It is important to note too that when teachers criticize other children from the reserve, or send them home for being dirty, that the children from new elite families do not equate statements about those children with statements about themselves. They have always viewed themselves as different from those other children and the school merely confirms those differences. Attacks by school personnel on "Indianness" do not penetrate the Indian children from new elite homes; 195 they consider themselves separate from the objects of attack. Such attitudes also make the children more amenable to learning the skills and characteristics valued by the school and shared by the home. There is l i t t l e conflict for the children of the new elite in school. The days of the school-age child are taken up with schooling. Most children from the reserve eat their lunch at school returning home in the late afternoon. They do not go to the homes of their white school-mates, nor do those children come to the reserve to play. Occasionally, they may walk towards home together but the groups break up at the boundary of the reserve. At the; eastern boundary there is a park, and occasionally Indian and white children mingle there for a while after school. Seldom is the period a long one. The Capilano child is sub-jected only to the socialization influence of the school, therefore, not to that of white mothers and peers. At the elementary level no Capilano children participate in school games or teams after school hours. The minimal contact with whites serves several purposes: i t does not disrupt the Indian socializing influence of the home; i t re-inforces the intensity of family relationships consolidated by peer groups consisting of relatives rather than strangers; i t emphasizes "Indianness" and its separateness without necessarily making an issue of i t . At the same time the school contact reinforces those character-istics which parents see as important to the achievement of occupational goals. The socialization process continues at home. Peer groups as-sume more importance for the prepubertal child and are broadened through 196 various activities to include nonkin. For example, most boys at Capilano start playing lacrosse and junior hockey just prior to school entry. Such activities involve team effort and teams cannot be made up only of kin. These activities also brao^ den the perception of ethnic identity and of cohesiveness among children from the reserve. At four, one was a member of a particular family and a l l others were strangers. At six, whites are strangers and while one is s t i l l a member of a pri-vileged and superior group — this family rather than that one — one also is a member of a broader group — a teamwhich plays in opposition to white teams. The first fading of the many divisive lines of identity is experienced at this age. The self-identification as a member of the Capilano reserve becomes more important than the identity as a mem-ber of a particular family. Such flexiblity in definitions of member-ship become increasingly important as the individual grows older and his affiliations with a variety of groups become more complex. Such flexibility is also the forerunner of the ability to define and redefine situations as they occur. Although ascription of status appears rigid, its behavioural component is often amazingly flexible. The elementary school years bring no new elements into the socialization process. Rather, i t is a period of growth and develop-ment which broadens the individual's experience and perception. Consid-erable learning takes place in social skills. The ascription of status to self and others becomes a major preoccupation for as the child ap-proaches puberty i t becomes essential that he know with whom he may pro-perly associate and whom he may or may not regard as a potential mate. 197 During the later elementary school years there is a return to the indulgence and autonomy afforded the infant and toddler. Par-ents s t i l l insist on school attendance but bedtime hours are not so rig-idly enforced. Absenteeism is permitted on various occasions and not particularly questioned. For males, drinking often begins around 10 to 12 years and, while this behaviour is not approved by mothers, i t is not overtly curtailed or disapproved unless i t results in drunken-ness. Part of the culturally accepted male image is involvement in drinking. Since male identification began early, i t is also completed early, and "boys" of 10 to 12 are viewed as entering manhood, i.e., "young men." It is not extraordinary that they should act as men, therefore. In several homes, children drink with parents and parti-cipate with adults at social gatherings in a variety of homes. Use of drugs is not acceptable culturally, however, and this difference offsets the Capilano youngster from his white peers. At the time that white students become involved with drugs as an option to alcohol, Capilano children are becoming increasingly involved with alco-hol. In a period of four years in which records were kept, I note only one incident of the non-medical use of drugs and that was by a youth from the Mission reserve who used LSD and was subsequently hospi-talized. This case was exceptional, distressed many people, and was blamed on his association "with those white kids; he always hung around with them instead of his cousins; we told him he'd get into trouble with them but he didn't believe us." On the other hand, i t was not excep-tional to have a beer with families where youngsters joined the group, or to hear of some of the older youths having beer parties in one or another household. 198 When Capilano children finish elementary school they enter the local junior high. Here the schooling process differs markedly from the elementary system. Timetables are worked out individually and students need only be at school when they have classes scheduled. This leaves them considerable free time and also places the responsib-i l i t y on them for working out their schedules and study periods. In contrast to elementary school, there are more social and sports acti-vities in which students may join. As well, the school services a larger area and thus has a more diverse social and economic group from which students may choose friends. Also, relatives from Mission at-tend the same school now, and the number of Indian students in the school is significantly increased. The atmosphere is different, the controls fewer, and the opportunities for diverse social experiences greater. Such factors alter the socialization of Capilano children significantly. The children of the new elite families remain in a top posi-tion at this educational level. They have the money to buy clothes which are modish for the peer group at any particular time. They have the money to participate in after-school gatherings at malt shops, and to buy their lunches rather than bring them. They can afford to go to shows and to take a date. It is at this social level that mean-ingful relationships between Capilano and white students occur. Some result in marriages. These are not always approved but neither are they entirely disapproved. Peer relationships evolve into a variety of activities and groups. Some groups are entirely male or female; others are heterosexual. Some are mixed Indian and white; others are segregated. Capilano students 199 participate in several school teams and activities. They may give up participating in the all-Indian lacrosse team or baseball or hockey and play on a school team. Or, they may play on both. More time is spent away from home and from the homes of relatives. Youths come and go as they wish at home and demand meals at their convenience. Uniforms for teams are maintained by mothers. Transportation is ex-pected from fathers or mothers. Indulgence continues. At the same time, some responsibilities are met: care of younger siblings, help with packages, errands to the store or to a relative's, care of the lawn, and similar things. The individual is also expected to maintain a passing average in school in spite of his increasing social activi-ties. Fathers, uncles, and grandfathers begin to discuss how and when he will start his employment on the docks, who will sponsor him for membership in the union and related concerns. Political awareness also increases after elementary school. The child is privy to innum-erable conversations involving Band politics but such conversations become more meaningful as he realizes the effect that such conversa-tions and subsequent informal decisions have on his or the family's welfare. The youth begins to develop expectations attached to his perceived privileged status. He expects help in obtaining a job; he, expects to get a house ifhe marries; he expects to be financially main-tained until these things transpire; he expects to be treated deferen-tially within his family groups, and in general. He selects his friends, carefully avoiding those categories of people he has learned not to know; he does not involve himself with smokehouse activities and, like his parents, decries their regressiveness; he looks to the white society for his social contacts, his pleasures, and his job. 200 The child has become an adult. In the process he has been reared in an indulgent and autonomous way; at the same time, he has been provided ample direction and instruction so that he has acquired the knowledge of kin necessary for day-to-day encounters. He has had the experience of being a member of an in-group — the extended family — and a larger Indian group — the Capilano. He has also been exposed to "strangers" some of whom have been Indian and most of whom have been white. With the latter he has formed some ties restricted only by. cultural boundaries and he has shared goals of continuing education, sports activities, and occupational goals. As well, he has been able to establish social relationships with peers who were relatives in pre-school days, and with peers who were non-kin, and some who were white in school days. As a young man social relation-ships have also been established with a heterosexual group. Now, as a young adult, he looks once again to the support of kin to enlist him in the longshoring union or some other occupation of choice. Since his senior male kin have positions of power within the unions and within the Band, i t is likely that his expectations will be met. As well, such senior kinsmen will continue to socialize him in ways amenable to the group, and to the maintenance of their power within the group. He is fully socialized now. Unless he diverges in a major way from the life-style in which he has been raised, he will not undergo any further process of socialization but rather he will experience contin-uing socialization as an adult into additional roles of husband, father, foreman, and friend in the same cultural context. 201 Socialization Into Old-Elite Families Many of the characteristics of atmosphere and procedure v<Li>-a-vZi an infant found in the new elite homes are also found in the old elite homes. Therefore, this section will be a discussion of the s i t -uations and practices which vary rather than a repetition of the total situation. Some differences start at birth. Old elite families tend to be less wealthy and less well-housed than the new elite families. As a result, the child and mother arrive home to an overcrowded house, filled with members of two generations, and sometimes with the children of a sibling as well. The baby may have new clothes for the occasion but it is more likely that he is wearing hand-me-downs from an older sibling. It is also unlikely that he will have a new carrier or furni-ture of his own. He will sleep with his mother until the next child comes or until he is old enough to move into an older brother's bed. Most of his siblings will be sharing beds as well as rooms. No domes-tic help will have been hired in the absence of his mother. Rather, the child's grandmother, or an aunt, will have cared for his older siblings, and will help his mother out in the first few weeks of his ar-rival. His kin surround him from birth and he shares their household. If he is fortunate, he may become his grandparent's favorite, and he may continue to live with them even i f his parents should move. In any event, he will maintain closer ties with his immediate kin than does his new elite counterpart. This is a function not only of his residence but also of his later participation in ritual activities. 202 The rhythm of his days is similar to that of the other child. He is permitted to grow, develop, and mature in his own way. Likewise, he is highly indulged in infancy and gradually expected to share in tasks and responsibilities. He sees l i t t l e of his father initially, and does not form any active relationship with him until he is walking and talking. At that time, he begins his male bonding with father, brothers and cousins. Since the Squamish share most beliefs about rearing children with indulgence, independence and autonomy, his rate of progress in childhood tasks such as walking, talking, weaning, and toilet training are accomplished at about the same rate as that of the new elite chil-dren. On the other hand he learns different things as well. Aggres-sion is not tolerated with such complacency for one thing, and for ano-ther he sees a greater part of adult l i f e since playing and sleeping space is also eating and talking space. His bedtime hours are more casual and he can eat constantly or not at a l l . He has a heavier load of chores also because his mother may be working and his grandmother may need help with laundry and bringing groceries home. In any event, he accompanies her to the laundromat and to shopping on foot. If i t is very far, and things are very heavy, he may get to ride home in a taxi. Few, i f any, of his relatives own cars. Those who do drive old models. Methods of control are similar between households but the old elite families tend to be less directive and to intervene less in children's activities. As a result, the child in the old elite family has a less contained situation than that of the new elite child. How-ever, greater emphasis is placed on him learning who his kin are and 203 restricting himself to that group. His mobility may, in fact, be more circumscribed than his freedom of action would indicate. In general, most of the old elite children I observed played inside their grand-parents' house or yard or that of an uncle. In controlling the child, a different range of projective agents are used, and more emphasis is placed on the importance of not bringing shame to the family name. For example, the two are sometimes combined when the presence of a deceased relative is made real in the statement, "you'd better be careful how you behave or aunt ... will get after you; she can see you, you know, and she might get mad at what you're doing; she doesn't want to be ashamed of you." As in the other home, the child is early exposed to gossip about the inappropriate behaviour of other children. A typical state-ment reprimanding a child would be to accuse him of behaving like the A's. Gossip would then continue about the A's, and their uninformed behaviour, and what shame i t would bring to his family, the B's, were he to behave in that way. The harshness of such statements increases as the child grows older so that a rebuke stated in this manner and in an offended or derisive tone can be extremely hurtful. Teasing as a form of control is much more noticeable among the old elite than among the new. The focus of discipline in the old elite homes is primarily preventive rather than corrective. The issue then is to impress upon the child the inappropriateness of his behaviour so he will not repeat i t . A child who hears his deviant behaviour discussed with anyone who enters the house over a period of a week seldom engages in that behaviour again! Not only does he get the feedback directly but it can haunt him into adulthood. Some of these accounts turn into myth-204 like tales offering great amusement to the listeners. As the child grows older, he learns to cope with such teasing and even to reciprocate with tales about the teller in a way which unites the generations in a recognition of human f a l l i b i l i t y . Such moments can be warm and loving as well as derisive. Shaming as a form of control is always negative and always punitive. When an adult shames a child i t is usually for behaviour which the family feels will bring shame to a l l members which will need to be resolved as a group. Few young children are shamed but older children and youths sometimes get into difficulties which the family feels are shameful. Old elite families emphasize kindness, generosity, and hon-esty among other qualities which are desirable in an adult. An older child who will not share something, or who lies, or who is caught steal-ing, would bring shame to the family. Such instances are not frequent but they do occur. Usually, the statement of the reprimand is put in terms of shaming the family name rather than in any terms of breaking the law or similar broader terms of reference. Additionally, the child from the old elite family has claim to a name. He will usually be informed of this name or people will re-fer to the fact that he will receive i t formally when he is old enough to "live up to i t . " Not only does this give the child some sense of pride, it also helps him to become more aware of what constitutes pro-per behaviour for his family. His grandparents will t e l l him stories relating family origin and will also talk to him about the "big times'' when a l l the important Salish people gather and honour each other. He will be reminded at the end of such stories about his responsibility to 205 keep his name proud and to pay suitable homage to relatives and senior people with bigger names. The child in the old elite home also has the opportunity to learn traditional hospitality at an early age. In contrast to the new elite homes where even young relatives are sent to their own homes to eat if dinner time arrives, old elite families will serve whomever is in the house at the time the food is ready. As a result, cousins often eat in one household and, i f adults are present, they will also stay. Reciprocity is high so that people eating in one household two or three times a week may appear at a later time with groceries for the household head or a gift of some sort. Alternately, some service will be provided such as babysitting, or laundry, or shopping, or a drive to a doctor, etc. Although the new elite child has entree to a number of households in his extended family, he does not live in an extended family situation but rather moves from one nuclear household to another. This is differ-ent from the experience of the old elite child who is surrounded by kin of adjacent generations who eat and sleep with him and who use his home as theirs, and vice versa. By the time the child from the old elite family reaches six, he is more socially and culturally developed than the child from the new elite family. He is more socially apt because he has had a broader array of continuing exposure to a large number of people within one household. He knows how to share more and he has developed a full res-ponsibility for day-to-day tasks and sibling care. He is more culturally developed because he has had greater exposure to legends, folktales, fam-ily histories, references to the spirit world, family name, responsibility, 206 and the like. His contacts with whites and with the city and other places have been more restricted. He is less oriented to going to school be-cause the topic of education or of employment has not been a major one debated within his household. He may not have had any exposure to educated models within his own family. As a result of these differences, the old elite child enters school with a different experience and perspective from his new elite classmate. He may have attended the reserve kindergarten where the staff were people he knew and where a l l the children were Indian. This does not necessarily prepare him to meet the white school and its personnel. Some of the Capilano children are as much strangers to him as the white children because he has not been permitted to play with them. Their presence may be of l i t t l e comfort to him. In addition, the old elite child may not have adequate clothing by school standards nor may i t be clean enough to be acceptable to school personnel. Unlike his new elite friends, he> may be sent home to clean up in the first week of school. The school starts a second socialization process for the chil-dren of the old elite. It is not a continuation of the primary process as i t is for those children from new elite families. The type of English spoken in his home may be dissimilar to that the teacher uses. The method of instruction certainly is; in school i t is directive and inter-ventionist. He is not able to observe and then act; he must follow ver-bal commands. Nor is he allowed to make a mistake and then find his way back; instead, he is corrected in midstream so that he cannot learn through his errors. 207 The old elite families do not oppose education but sometimes the pattern of their lives prevent children from attending school. If the family has been at a smokehouse function and arrives home in the early morning" hours,no one will rise to get the children off to school. So he may miss school often. He may have to babysit a younger sibling i f an adult relative is not available. Funds are not so prevalent that sitters can be paid. In addition, i t is an important part of his learn-ing to become a good Squamish for him to help with vital chores rather than attend solely to his own needs. For similar reasons he may be tardy. As a result, the school personnel begin to view him as "Indian." This perception devalues him as a person and lowers the teachers' expecta-tions for him. The result is that he lowers his own level of aspiration and never develops the interest and motivation he might were he treated like the more acceptable children of the new elite or like his white classmates. Just ashis living situation is corporate, so are some of his experiences. His cousins begin to empathize with him; they begin to share the resentment and the disinterest too. They turn their ener-gies elsewhere. The pattern of negative reinforcement strengthens. As his primary socialization continues at home, his secondary one begins at school. He may also be introduced to ritual activities which one might term as his anticipatory socialization. The latter ex-perience does not culminate until he is an adult but he becomes familiar with smokehouse activities and may get involved in helping or attending on a regular basis. It is about the time that he reaches his upper elementary or early junior high school years that he will have his name installed. Such an event is the end result of many years of socializing 208 within the family setting. With the public installation of his name, he publicly takes on ritual responsibilities. He must now attend cer-tain functions, help on behalf of the family, and learn more specifically 3 how to live up to his name. Not only do such activities require time, they also require psychic energy. Both of these withdraw the individual from the active pursuit of studies. As a result, he may have to repeat upper elementary and early high school years. With each grade repetition he becomes a candidate for withdrawal from school before completing Grade XII. Anticipatory and actual socialization into the smokehouse in-volves youths in the dilemma of determining their identity. Having an Indian name, and being a participant in ritual activity, heightens an individual's sense of "Indianness." It also separates him from those who do not participate and especially from the white world. The young Capi-lano child from the old elite family learns early not to discuss his ritual activities with peers. Part of this reticence is appropriate to the nature of ritual. Only the initiated share the understandings at-tached to the significance of ritual events. On the other hand, i f an individual is dependent on his ritual status for his identity and sense of worth within a group, then some of the information about that status 3. My cousin received an important name from his grandfather the winter he was 11 years old. He felt honoured to have the name and lived up to i t accordingly within the family. His first public responsibility came on the day of his grandfather's funeral. He, as senior male child with the biggest name, had to speak on behalf ot the immediate family to thank the people for helping to comfort the family. As a 13-year-old in the depth of his grief, he brought great honour to his name and his "presence" was commented on highly by a l l the impor-tant people. 209 must be shared publicly. Unlike the new e l i t e youths who can draw on public knowledge of their family status and use i t to impress peers, youths who are learning to be important people in another realm have l i t t l e to share. For some this creates a dilemma but i f they have been well-socialized, i t simply turns them back to their immediate family and their extended kin for affirmation. The individual then faces an additional choice: he can become bicultural and continue to pursue bothhis primary and second socializa-tion, or he can reject his second process and become more involved in the primary one. For those who choose the bicultural path, the process is not easy because of the conflicting values expressed between the two reference groups and because of the demands each makes on his time. Nat-urally, the primary group has more strength because i t is in that group that the individual is accepted, cherished, and needed. Such emotional gratification is less easy to find i n the second group, although i t is not impossible. In addition, the youth has to face the reality of recog-nizing that he needs a modicum of formal education i f he hopes to obtain employment. Such conflicts are not easily resolved, especially when the - timing of the two major processes is temporally conjoint rather than se-quential. Some individuals flounder becoming well-socialized in neither system; others make a choice. In either case, the degree of conscious conflict is high for the youths of old el i t e families, especially the males. The new el i t e youths have a smoother process because they are not subjected to a second socialization process until the primary one has been completed. Some never go through a second process at a l l in new e l i t e families. 210 S o c i a l i z a t i o n of Females: Old and New Patterns The s o c i a l i z a t i o n of females does not d i f f e r e s s e n t i a l l y from that of the males except i n ro l e o r i e n t a t i o n . Female infants are treated with the same respect and concern as are males. The l e v e l of nurturance and indulgence does not vary along sex l i n e s . The rate of independence and autonomy does not vary i d e o l o g i c a l l y ; i n some instances i t does d i f f e r i n pr a c t i c e since male chi l d r e n tend to wander farther from home while female children stay close to t h e i r mothers or grandmothers. As with a l l c h i l d r e n , the play a c t i v i t i e s of g i r l s are l e s s rough than those of boys; body sports do not constitute a major a c t i v i t y for g i r l s i n the way that lacrosse and hockey do for boys. Female chi l d r e n spend more time with adult females and less with peers i n t h e i r f i r s t ten years of l i f e . There i s a tendency for female groups to have broader ranges i n age than comparable male groups. The same patterns p r e v a i l , however; cousins and s i b l i n g s constitute the peer group. The play group b i f u r -cates very e a r l y with males and females forming t h e i r own groups about ages three and four. A female c h i l d shares many of the same tasks that young males do. She fetches things, she helps carry out things, she helps an elder to a car, and s i m i l a r a c t i v i t i e s . About age four, female roles begin to emerge more c l e a r l y . Help with food, help with laundry, and s i m i l a r female r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s begin to be shared by the adult woman and the young g i r l . Infant care i s s t i l l the r e s p o n s i b i l i t y of the oldest s i b -l i n g s , i n c l u d i n g males, but as the male approaches ages 10 to 12 h i s r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s decrease and that of the older female s i b l i n g increase. 211 Thus, in a family with a 10 year old boy and an 8 year old g i r l , the girl will be charged with the major caretaking of an infant sibling. In the same way, i f a meal is needed she rather than the older boy will prepare i t in the absence of an adult. Such patterning is a result of the division of labour along sex lines. It is also a reflection of gen-erally prevailing attitudes that evolve from a predominantly patrilineal system. Women are viewed as the people who accommodate men and help them to achieve their goals. This is not a statement implying a super-iority or inferiority of one sex. Rather, i t is a statement which clearly defines roles and which places an important value on women's services. Womenndraw satisfaction from being in a position to help men; men in turn contribute to the status of women by doing important things which bring the family honour, or good income, or whatever. Even when the system does not appear to work, and men abuse women or women f a i l to accommodate men, women can s t i l l draw their status from being able to keep their households running in the face of adverse economic and emotional conditions. A young girl learns at an early age that one of the aspects of being a good Squamish woman is not only to be able to run a house efficiently, to know family history properly, and to have similar skills, but also to be able to maintain an adequate level of performance in the face of adversity. In fact, women who have not faced such difficulties are not considered "proven" by senior women and peers. Thus, when fa-ther comes home drunk, the young female must stay with her mother, help with the younger children, and run messages and information between households. In this process, she is learning how to be a good Squamish 212 woman in the face of adversity. In contrast, her brother's appropriate behaviour must be to turn his back against the women and help his father, or at least not leave him alone. Young girls assume responsibilities early, releasing their mothers to attend to their fathers in many instances. For example, one of the problems associated with abusive drinking is that men lose their drivers' licences on drinking charges. In several new elite households, wives rise at 5:30 a.m. to make their husband's breakfasts and to drive them to work because they do not have valid drivers licences. In such cases, older female children are assigned the tasks of getting breakfast and getting children ready for school. In the same way, young girls will prepare dinner for the family while mother drives male children to the lacrosse or hockey game. Many other activities involving services to males take mothers away from home, leaving young girls in charge of younger siblings. At school, female children perform in much the same way as males, although they tend generally to miss more school because of the family responsibilities mentioned above. In general, girls from the new elite homes persist longer in school than do old elite family fe-males. One reason for this is that females in old elite homes get in-volved in more tasks associated with ritual events than do males. If it is a gathering in which the family is helping, a l l females will be expected to help in the kitchen, with distribution, etc. Men do not work in food preparation nor at serving. As well, some females are asked by families to help with a new dancer or to be a "sitter." If the girl 2 1 3 assigned is also in school, the rate of absenteeism soars and failure in certain grades is almost ensured during the winter session. The nature of the female bonding, the clarity of roles ascribed to females, and the cultural support for females not working a l l contri-bute to less conflict for the female in determining a sense of identity and worth. The value of a woman's service is immediately visible. The importance of her presence in keeping a household going is equally easily perceived. It is not the same for the male for he may earn the money in a non-visible way, i.e., out of the community. He may also spend his cheque, or a major portion of i t , before he gets home. He may also be absent from home for a period, living with someone else. His presence is often viewed as neither helpful nor desirable on the 4 part of the female. Such behaviour and lack of visibility makes men's roles appear less important than those of women. In any event, women perceive that their roles are clearer and that they are culturally not individually determined. The identity crisis comes only i f women re-ject their prescribed roles. I met no women at Capilano who actively did so. Female socialization differs from that of the male in content but not in process. S ummary Many traditional beliefs about the li f e cycle have fallen into disuse. Taboos and rituals associated with significant life events 4. Some females claim they flourish when their husbands are gone, and that i t is the only time they have enough money and food, i.e., when they are on welfare. 2 1 4 have generally given way to Christian or non-Squamish concerns. Al-though practices have been discontinued, some of the beliefs adhere. Twins, for example, are s t i l l regarded with some concern although no special ritual is followed when twins are born, nor is the family iso-lated either physically or socially from the community. Children are s t i l l highly valued within the Squamish commun-ity as evidence of v i r i l i t y , as companions and helpers, and simply for themselves. For this reason, sterility continues to be viewed with concern. The birth of a child is an important event for the extended family. The Squamish have well stated theories and practices associated with child-rearing. Children are highly nurtured and pass through devel-opmental stages during which certain expectations are held for their be-haviour as well as reinforced. The child is an integral part of a family unit not an individual to be involved only part of the time in adult activity. While expectations for suitable behaviour are high, disciplin-ary measures are primarily verbal and are based on shaming the individual into more appropriate behaviour. Great reliance is placed on oratory as a means for instructing individuals and providing them with informa-tion as to what constitutes acceptable as well as proper behaviour. Discipline is thus preventative rather than corrective. Many Squamish share similar values with regard to rearing chil-dren. However, the processes and practices involved differ substantially among old and new elite families. The composite cases provided i l l u s -trate these similarities and differences. 215 The school provides some Squamish children with their second socialization process; for the others, i t is a continuing but variant form of the first process. For the child from the old elite home, the path falls away into a forest of unlinked and unfamiliar expectations and concerns, many of which conflict with his on-going process of enculturation. The dilemmas begin to emerge. Soon he will be faced with conscious decisions about his identity, his continuing socializa-tion, his involvement in ritual matters, and his l i f e goals. No one will be able to help him make these decisions but he will continue to receive the support and affection of kin. Similarly, his new elite friend will have to make decisions affecting occupation and li f e goals but for him the task will be easier because of the strong male models and the availability of help from these senior kinsmen who have positions of authority in the occupations he wishes to pursue. The division of the sexes is accomplished long before puberty. As noted, girls receive the same nurturance as boys but their l i f e -styles diverge early. They are expected to help men, and to learn to be good women and wives. Towards this end they become "mothers," at least.:in role behaviour, by the time they are ten years of age. Although females stay in school longer than males, only one woman at Capilano had a job outside her home during the time of the study. Models are lacking for female roles other than wife, mother, aunt, and friend. Such roles emphasize female bonding in the same way for girls as the male bonding does for men. The groups are not in opposition but serve the same func-tion: personal support during crises and company during good times. As 216 in other cultures, the Capilano female matures long before the. male. At 15 years of age, most Capilano females are women capable of estab-lishing sound relationships, capable of running a household, and capable of coping with adversity. Men await their 20's before settling and even then the culture allows them greater freedom i f not license. Men work hard but have considerable freedom from family, responsibility. Women work hard and have l i t t l e freedom from responsibility. The meeting of this responsibility is viewed as an achievement and the good Squamish woman has proven her mettle by meeting a l l demands placed upon her. The socialization of two groups of Squamish children has been presented in an overly simple manner. The processes in detail is a complex one and the impact of the white world has been both accommodated and refuted. While the details of day-to-day schedules, contacts and pro-cesses have not been presented, the gross patterns, the beliefs which underlie those patterns, and the cultural atmosphere which allow those to be operative, have a l l been dealt with at length. It is this pat-terning which is important to an understanding of Squamish family l i f e . The patterns will become more explicit in the following chapter which links major theoretical concerns with the data presented. As well, the tertiary socialization process will be considered. 217 CHAPTER V ANALYSIS OF SQUAMISH SOCIALIZATION In presenting the material on Squamish socialization the gen-eral pattern of relationships within the extended family and outside of it has been described. Also, the goals and beliefs affecting the choice and directions of the Squamish child-rearing process have been outlined. The data are available to provide the day-to-day schedules of the families involved in the intensive studies. These have not been included because i t is too easy to focus on such detail and thereby ignore the prevailing patterns which mediate the practices. No rigid age-grading categories have been provided. Rather, the descriptive account allows the reader to watch the child develop subject to the cultural conditions by which he is bound. Although the Squamish define age-grades and do have terms of reference for them, their main focus is on the maturation and competence of the child. He is not measured in terms of general behaviour appropriate to his age. A child is judged according to whether any single item of behaviour fits his maturation level. Such evaluations consider not only his develop-mental and maturational stage but his degree of effective socialization as well. Often the parents rather than the child are found wanting i f the child behaves inappropriately in a social or ritual situation. Two main results must follow from socialization. The first is that the new member of the society must become enculturated. That is , he must learn the beliefs, values, mores, language and thought, and similar basic attributes of the group into which he has been born. 2 1 8 For the Squamish child this aspect also subdivides into two sections because he must become a Squamish; but he must do i t in a way which is acceptable to a segment of that population: an extended family within the Capilano group. The second major aspect of socialization is the elaboration of the basic process into a broader one which enables the individual to function in the white world. As has been pointed out, for the children of the new elite, this is a continuing first process because they, as a segment of the Squamish people, are intricately in-volved in the economic and political systems of the larger society. For the child from the old elite family, the process becomes a second socialization experience equivalent in many ways to the first but es-sentially different from i t . Anticipatory socialization may be a part of the first process as i t is for the new elite youth who aspire to employment as longshoremen. Or it may be a part of the second process as i t is for the youth of the old elite families. Their anticipatory process is linked to ritual socialization not to entry into the white work force. The question of tertiary socialization is presented as a new and necessary one. The concept applies only to an adult who has under-gone enculturation in his own group, has emerged from that into a second group, and finally undergoes a different process as an adult. While first and second-processes of socialization can be sequential or concur-rent, the third must follow the second and not be concurrent with i t . In general, i f we adhere to the use of first and second concepts as I have defined them, the third process is not one which new elite adults would undergo. If they have an adult socialization into a very different 219 manner of l i f e , then the process would be a second one by definition. The children of the old elite families undergo a second socialization in the school. They would not likely undergo a third process as adults unless there were exceptional circumstances. A case illustration best describes the third process. The most dramatic example I have of tertiary socialization involves a man in his late forties. A was born at Squamish into a big name family. He spent his infancy being cared for by his mother and grandmother in the way described earlier for Squamish infants. His name was thrown at him at the time of his birth but he was also given a Christian name. By the time he reached seven years of age, he was well socialized as a Squamish boy and was a valued person within his family. At seven, he was taken by the RCMP to the residential school at Mission. He lived there for the next eight years. During this time he ran home twice. On the first occasion his father returned him to the school. On the next, the RCMP .came for him. The school provided his second process of socialization. At the residential school he learned many things. He learned to follow the rituals and dogma of Catholicism and to forget the things he had learned about Squamish religion. He learned that he could overcome his Indian-ness i f he tried hard enough and he did try. He began to believe that the education he was receiving would help him obtain employment later and enable him to live appropriately in the city. He learned how to dress and to eat differently from his accustomed ways also. By the time he was 15, he had been well socialized into the residential school pat-tern of beliefs and behaviour. 220 When A left the residential school, he had the equivalent of Grade 4 education. He had lost most of the behavioural and speech pat-terns of his own family and he was oriented toward being more white than Indi an. /"Although the process had been effective, i t was inpomplete and i t might have been partially reversible had he returned to his fam-ily when he got out of school. However, he stayed in the city. He later enlisted in the army although he was under recruitment age. He was a big man and few Indian people have birth certificates. They accepted him. He went to England and to Europe in the course of his training and duties over the next two years. This effectively completed his socialization into the white society. He travelled, he spent a great deal of time with his buddies, and he made sufficient money to support himself. He returned homeeto Capilano where his natal family had now moved. He was not familiar with reserve l i f e nor was he happy. He began to drink heavily. After a few years, he decided that such a l i f e was not particularly happy or comfortable. He reduced his drinking and sought employment. He joined the Alcoholics Anonymous. Through the influence of an uncle he went to work on the docks. He became a good worker and ultimately was made a foreman. He began to involve him-self in Band affairs. He married a big;name girl and started a family. The story might have ended there as he had successfully sel-ected from the white culture those attributes which meshed with the Squamish culture even though he was not at that time aware of the con-vergence. He was a hard worker, acceptable within his own community and among his fellow workers. However, the pressure of his Band political involvement began to distress him. In his position as an important 221 Council member he was subject to considerable pressure from kin. Some of these kin were not even people he knew because as a child he had learned about who some of his kin were but not about al l of them. It was difficult for him to accept such demands in a cultural context but he could not refute the relationships. Work was also taxing. Soy,al-though he had money, a good job, a new car, and a nice house, he was not a happy person. He developed ulcers; he became tense and irritable. He started to think about the nature of the conflict. Why did his rela-tives harass him? Why did they refer to his lack of appropriate behav-iour in not according relatives privileges which he did have access to? What did people mean when they accused him of not living up to his name? He began to visit the smokehouse and to attend some functions there. He was not sure that what he saw was important or real from the viewpoint of the business world in which he functioned. He was l i t t l e more than curious. However, he did turn to something very close: the Shakers. There he began to learn about the comfort of a group of friends and of a religious commitment which he had been lacking. Because the few Mainland Shakers are also sometimes involved in the smokehouse, he attended more functions there with them. He began to realize that the ritual events which people attended gave them a deep sense of worth and of belonging. He realized that there was great comfort to be drawn from this. He himself did not choose to become a dancer, but his daughter did. Although his wife was an initiated dancer, she had not attended the gatherings for several years. She attended now with him and began to dance again. He decided to sponsor his daughter's initiation. 222 Ittwas at this point that his third process of socialization began. It was not a reversion to the primary process because the con-tent and goals differed significantly. Furthermore, he was to undergo and experience this process as an adult. This made a difference. Al-though he was hosting his daughter's initiation, he did not know the rules. He did not know people by their Indian names. He did not know whom the important people were and whom he could afford to by-pass. He took several steps to learn: he sought information from his wife and from other relatives who did know how to behave in the smokehouse; he asked his senior maternal aunt to install his name; he began to sol-i c i t funds for a new smokehouse at Capilano. During the process of his enculturation into the smokehouse group, and especially during his daughter's initiation, he suffered many insults. He was welcomed as the prodigal son into his "rightful" role — that of a big name person behaving properly in the smokehouse. However, people did not always rush to assist him and some seemed del-iberately to misinform him. Some people kept silent. Those individuals associated with him who possessed the information he needed to proceed properly might have been withholding information or they might have simply been following the protocol of non-intervention. In any event, this process of tertiary socialization which he underwent was not an easy one for him. He had to rethink many things; he had to learn about the relative importance of a large number of people in a new system; he had to learn not only a new vocabulary but the concepts attached to i t ; he had to spend considerable sums of money for people to assist him since he was not knowledgeable. 223 He learned well, however, and some of the more critical people began to relent, impressed with his sense of determination and commit-ment. He became very committed, and in talking with him i t seemed as though the process had been like a rebirth. He stated that he had not known his own culture was assrich and as worthy as i t is; he felt that the acceptance he had gained within the smokehouse group had many com-pensatory features which offset the stress he suffered at work. His attitudes toward many things and people changed. He started to learn the ways of the important people in the old elite group. In a sense, one might say that he was bicultural in his outlook and status since he was s t i l l an important person within the new elite definition and now he was similarly important within the old elite group. In this position, he became less vulnerable, more acceptable within the com-munity generally and he certainly was more at peace within himself. His experience had made him a different person with consider-ably altered perceptions and priorities. The third process did not dis-place the second one. It added a completely new dimension to the indi-vidual who then became somewhat adept at maintaining two sets of statuses of equivalent importance. He continued to be an important person in one realm and added the ritual one to i t . He became "more Indian" than he had ever been; his own concepts about his identity changed as much as those of people in the community did. This was the major change — the matter of self-identification — that took place and the one which most seriously illustrates the effectiveness of the third socialization pro-cess. One is only partially socialized i f one acquires the modes of 224 behaviour of the subgroup; but, if one acquires the concepts and feel-ings attached to the behaviour, the change is more intense and likely to be more enduring. A Review of Some Basic Socialization Concepts as They Apply to the  Squamish Mayer (1970: xvi) conceptually distinguishes- between two main aspects of socialization. He talks about "vernacular" and "obser-ver" models. He distinguishes the two as process and practice respec-tively. In defining these, he states: By socializing practices I mean vernacular activities for which socialization (inculcation of role playing skills or attitudes) is explicitly claimed by the actors as a deliber-ate aim. Along with the activities properly so-called, I would include the associated vernacular beliefs of theories. Thus, socializing practices include initiation rituals and a l l explicitly initiatory institutions and practices; expli-cit vernacular theory and practice regarding the training of children and young people for adult roles; the same regarding the training of adult aspirants to given roles; informal but deliberate exercise of socializing pressures, as by teasing, of those who seem to discharge their roles ineptly; vernacu-lar opinions — not necessarily endorsed by the observer — about the suitability and effectiveness of socializing tech-niques .... In a given culture, the body of conscious, deliberate social-izing practice and theory, as just defined, constitute a "sys-tem" and the anthropologist can hope to deal with i t by the regular techniques of his discipline. The Squamish material presented clearly constitutes a system in the sense that Mayer uses i t . I have presented the vernacular model of the Squamish by describing their philosophies of child-rearing, the beliefs attached to the choices made about fertility, conception and abortion. I have discussed the techniques involved in the maintenance 225 of the system, i.e., non-intervention, indulgence, and the like. Mayer subsumes practices under process linking the two. I have found this a useful way of determining the impact and direction of Squamish sociali-zation. The disparities found within the model, that is, between the statement of Squamish socialization theory and practice, are attributable in part to observation and interpretation. They may also be due to the different rates of change affecting different parts of the culture. It is possible that in some cases mothers have changed their practices without necessarily changing their theories. Early writers in anthropology who dealt with the socializa-tion of various groups seem only to have touched on one or two parts of Mayers' vernacular model. Writers such as Malinowski (1954, 1960), Firth (1964), Mead (1928, 1930), Benedict (1934, 1938), Kardiner (1947), Whit-ing and Child (1953) and others deal with socialization in terms of kin-ship, puberty rites, marriage, household practices, cultural determinants of personality, and similar topics. While such writings provide us with good information on some major aspects of socialization, they do not in-form us about the total pattern throughout a l i f e time nor about the con-cepts and perceptions which the people themselves attach to the practices. Many of these descriptions follow the tenet of the early learning the-orists (Mower, 1950, 1960; Thorndike, 1969) that primary socialization is completed by puberty or that i t at least determines any further adult development. In presenting the Squamish material, I have attempted to be i-both more inclusive and broader in reference. I report the Squamish views of socialization but my selection of data has been predicated upon what Mayer calls the construction of one's own model of "actual" social-226 izing processes (1970: xxi). He suggests that this is a useful checking device against which to determine more fully the relationship between theory and practice from both the [Squamish] viewpoint and from a com-parative base. Some of the concepts used in constructing my model are spelled out in the Introduction. Others appear throughout the body of the thesis} some bear repetition here. In soliciting the information about socialization of Squamish individuals, I often used a comparative framework with which to test out the theoretical implications of the observed practices. For example, I had many discussions with mothers about their recall of their own socialization processes. I asked them to tell me whether some of the procedures they now used were based on a feeling that the process to which they had been subjected adequately accomplished the goals they now defined as important. We also discussed the disparities between what one would like to be able to do, and what one is able to do, within the given situation of day-to-day relationships and exigencies. In addition, we talked about what I did with my child, as opposed to what they did with their children, and whether these differences accounted for one person becoming a definable "Squamish" and the other not. It was in these exchanges that the patterns became clear and the lack of importance of any conflict between a single practice and a general pat-tern became certain. It is not the single practice which determines the child's behaviour but the total system of relationships as well as those physical, emotional, and philosophical concerns which set the context for becoming a Squamish., 227 To reinforce this point even more, i t is worthwile remember-ing that any individual can learn the overt socialization practices of a given group and apply them. A person cannot as easily learn the cog-nitive and affective components of the process. It is the latter which are the main determinants of becoming a Squamish. It is here that the Gestaltist concept that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts applies. In presenting the Squamish material, I am convinced that the difference between the sum and the whole lies in that quality of Squamish li f e which determines perceptions, affective responses, and identity. This Squamish quality is not something which is readily definable or observable but i t is the essence of l i f e at Capilano which links the many phases of different relationships into a meaningful whole. It is neither practice nor vernacular theory, though these in part deter-mine certain relationships and social boundaries. It is a combination of events, symbolic interaction, philosophy, historical concepts, family history, and experience. Erikson touches on such matters when he discusses the total cultural panorama. He states (1964: 152) Human strength depends on the total process which regulates, at the same time, the sequence of generations and the struc-ture, of society. The ego is the regulator of this process in man. Later he adds, (Ibid.: 219) Much depends on the interplay of generations in which human strength can be revitalized, or human weakness perseverated into the second or third generation. It seems to me that the human strength to which Erikson refers is the essence of the first process of socialization. It is in the first 2 2 8 few years of his life that the Squamish child develops special relation-ships with kin in the adjacent and alternating generations. It is in infancy that the Squamish child experiences the nurturance and indul-gence which establishes the basic sense of trust and of worth. These feelings and perceptions are the result of certain practices (holding, rocking, talking, meeting needs as required, etc.); they are carried out not only by mother, but by a wide variety of kin. The structure of the social group is such that the sequence of generations can take hold. It is in this process too that the child can draw on the strength of the grandmother, or an aunt or uncle, or siblings, i f the parents are lacking in their own situation. This allows not only for the interplay of generations in an important way but also provides the revitalization needed in each. Where such processes are inhibited by cultural, econo-mic, or other conditions, the human strengths may f a i l to be revitalized and may weaken. Identity formation has not been discussed in any specific man-ner within the body of this report. However, i t has been one of the un-derlying themes which permeated most of the description of the emerging adult. In order to be a ful l member of any group, a person must first have some strong sense of self and a conviction that the self is accept-able generally. Any departure from such convictions result in turmoil and in distress for the individual. The process of developing an ade-quate self-image and identity begins at birth. It begins as a reflection of others into one's own self. The infant Squamish has a good beginning in this sense since among his kin there will always be at least one care-taker — i f not in fact more — who will love him and care for him will-229 ingly and carefully. Since he is surrounded by many kin from birth on, the strong attachment to a single nurturant figure does not occur and therefore never has to be undone. The Squamish child matures within a social structure that strengthens him even as i t challenges him. When he goes to meet strangers for the first time in school, he is surroun-ded by kin and he has already established a good sense of identity and of worth. Only i f he does not have sufficient intergenerational involve-ment does he become vulnerable. Erikson comments succinctly on some of these points when he discusses identity. He states (Ibid.; 91) Identity formation goes beyond the process of identifying oneself with others .... It is a process based on heightened, cognitive and emotional capacity to let one's self be identi-fied as a circumscribed individual in relation to a predict-able universe which transcends the circumstances of childhood .... Young people must become whole in their own right .... The wholeness to be achieved at this stage I have called a sense of inner identity. The young person in order to exper-ience the wholeness must feel a progressive continuity between that which he has come to be during the long years of child-hood and that which he promises to become in the anticipated future, between that which he conceives himself to be, and that which he perceives others to see in him and expect of him. It seems to me that the sense of identity which Erikson eluci-dates above is much earlier developed in children such as the Squamish who are perceived and expected to be "persons" from the age of mobility onward. The reinforcement for perceiving one'so self as a person is present from that time on although i t is circumscribed by family member-ship and by the predictable Squamish universe. The wholeness may be somewhat disrupted for the old elite youth in the sense that he may not be able to anticipate the continuity of being which Erikson mentions unless he seriously, becomes bicultural ... or turns inward to the group 230 for reinforcement. For the new elite child, the continuity has long been established in the form of available models and anticipations. Erikson adds some interesting points (Ibid.: 93-94) True identity, however, depends on the support which the young individual receives from the collective sense of identity characterizing the social group significant to him, his class, his nation and his culture. To be a person identical with one's self presupposes a basic trust on one's origins and the courage to emerge from them .... Identity connotes the resil-iency of maintaining essential patterns in the processes of change. Thus.?, strange as it may seem, i t takes a well-estab-lished identity ot tolerate radical change, for the well-established identity has arranged itself around basic values which cultures have in common. He adds, (Ibid.: 96) The danger of any period of large-scale uprooting and trans-migration is that the exterior crises will, in too many in-dividuals in genera'tionss upset the hierarchy of development crises and their built-in correctives and that man will lose those roots that must be firmly planted-in meaningful li f e cycles. For, man's true roots are nourished in the sequence of generations and he loses his taproots in disruptive devel-opmental time, not in abandoned localities. Not a l l families at Capilano share the strengths which were described for the selected families discussed. These families were not includedd in the discussion because the focus of the material was to understand how the Squamish socialization processes worked — not how it failed. However, I think i t is worth introducing some comments at this stage about those families who lack strong and effective sociali-zation theories. The Erikson comments pinpoint the difficulty. Parents who are now doing the socializing at Capilano belonged to the generation which was removed from the influence of their families and raised in residential school. This process attacked Indian culture; it did not reinforce i t . The basic trust in one's origins which Erikson states is 231 vital to establishing a firm sense of one's;-self could not develop in children who were raised in residential school because those origins were attacked and invalidated. Because the children were in residence, the attacks could not be withstood by their parents who saw them infre-quently i f at a l l . It is these Squamish parents today who express the most negative feelings about self, about Indians, and about whites. They were not able to maintain the "essential patterns" in the residen-tia l school and so they suffered serious cultural loss. In the same way, they were unable to plant their roots in "meaningful l i f e cycles" and so suffered the loss of contact with adjacent generations and in disruptive developmental time. These parents who had such experiences are now just beginning to put down their tap roots. Many are urged on by youths undergoing the similar i f different task of definition of self. Parents and children agree that they must be able to perceive themselves as Indians (for that is the perception others have of them). At the same time, the definition of what constitutes "Indianness" must be self-defined. While parents work out within themselves their quandary of worth, their children are re-establishing meaningful contacts with grandparents. This means that their socialization will be more adequate than it might have.been other-wise. The link between alternating generations has closed the circle, once again restoring to the senior generation their primary importance as cultural custodians and socializers. Bicultural socialization has been mentioned several times but not outlined in any detail. The term was introduced by Polgar (1960: 217) to refer to the availability of concurrent alternatives for social-232 ization of individuals in situations of pluralism. In examining the soc-ialization of Mesquakie boys he found that being faced with such alter-natives, even when they appeared to be in opposition, did not lead to marginality or to superficial behavioural adaptation. Rather, he found that the teenage boys he studied developed a dualistic identification and became able to perform varying sets of roles in both white and Mes-quakie cultures (Ibid.: 228-229). In the same ways, the children of the new elite are in fact bicultural and to a lesser degree so are the childern of the old elite. In the former case, the new elite children have bicultural models in their families. The old elite families have some but not many models who operate equally effectively in both cultures. This is not to say that the latter are not able to cope with and benefit from the white culture. It does say, however, that they have not adopted many white patterns, values, concepts and percepts as their own, or in a primary way. It would be unusual, therefore, to find an old elite youth who was bicultural unless he were not living in his own home, or spent a considerable portion of his time with white socializers. Bi-cultural socialization does not imply, by definition, a partial adap-tation to white culture but rather an equal one. It is important to reassert here that the Squamish who are categorized as bicultural are s t i l l Squamish. whites accuse them of being Indian; Squamish accuse them of being white. In fact, the hostility implies their success at being both. In discussing the success of some Squamish at becoming bicul-tural i t seems important to note that such a process in no way infers that Squamish parents wish their children to assimilate or become white. 233 While some would prefer somewhat unrealistically that their children not learn anything of the white ways, most would like to see their children have a strong sense of pride in their Squamish origins and accomplishments while at the same time learning and benefiting from the white world. This ideology would lead, if i t were accomplished, to f u l l bicultural socialization of a l l Squamish. It would be the selective process in which the best parts of both cultures were inte-grated within one individual. However, the conscious selection of cul-tural content is not an easy one and too few of us are aware of the cognitive sets and affective determinants which interact in the uncon-scious selection of cultural patterning. As McElroy (1972: 11) points out, bicultural socialization may, in the final analysis, be a simple but adaptive strategy to main-tain cognitive balance, that is, i t is a way to effectively cope with the disjunctions between the native system and the white one. It may be one "aspect of a strategic pattern for reducing tension and reinforc-ing group solidarity in difficult, ambiguous or potentially disruptive situations" (Ibid.: 15). Festinger (1962) discusses the need of any individual to main-tain a psychic balance. The lack of such balance he calls "cognitive dissonance" and links i t with defensive or regressive behaviour de-signed to restore the balance. It would appear that when McElroy dis-cusses the adaptive strategies of the Eskimo children in becoming bi-cultural, she is describing innovative attempts to remove the sense of cognitive dissonance which Festinger has put forth. McElroy, in her analysis, adds the group context present when the group is in an ambiguous 234 situation. For the Squamish, the need to redress imbalance and to main-tain some sense of group solidarity in the face of ambiguity is an impor-tant one. Such behaviour is easily observed both in groups and in in-dividuals. The man who underwent the tertiary socialization process described in the text was certainly attempting to establish some sense of inner balance. In the same way, kin groups who gather for ritual events or for ritualized drinking parties are making a corporate at-tempt to reduce group tension and to resolve the ambiguity which may be distressing various family members. The young man or woman who be-comes a spirit dancer also reduces any sense of ambiguity attached to confusion of identity or sense of importance. The more "Indian" one becomes, the less ambiguous is the lack of being white. School children faced with the devaluation of the white teachers readily resolve their reactive dissonance by turning back to the primary group. In this way they also eliminate the need for constant confrontation of conflicting and disruptive orientations. Summary and Overview The model of socialization which has been presented here, is that of a social system which operates in two ways: 1) through the family which structures the range and nature of the child's most impor-tant social relationships, and 2) through the broader environment which the parents mediate according to the social structure of the Squamish as they perceive i t . In addition, parents at Capilano attempt to pro-vide anticipatory socialization by reinforcing the influence of the school or by reinforcing a combination of Salish and white systems. 235 The psychological costs involved for parents and for children make the process of socialization an uneven and sometimes difficult one. Thus the two goals of socialization which Wallace (1970) cites (replication of uniformity and organization of diversity) are met, one in the family and one in the larger Squamish and white society. Adult socialization has also been discussed. It is notably different from that of the child in that i t is a synthesis of old con-cepts and behaviour as well as the learning of new. An important part of adult socialization which must await maturity is learning socially acceptable ways of dealing with conflicting demands. As well, adult socialization is for increasingly complex and varied roles. A child need only be a child and act out the role of a specific family member. An adult must do that and occupy many other roles: father, son, council member, dancer, longshoreman, cousin, aid friend. The major points which I have presented are: 1. Socialization is a process which involves child-rearing but it is also one which is continuous throughout l i f e . 2. The primary group provides the basis for children to acquire the knowledge and skills demanded for survival within the society; i t also provides the means through which a child acquires his group and personal identity. 3. The process of identification is completed earlier.by^Squamish chil-dren than by those in the surrounding white society. This opens the opportunities in childhood for anticipatory socialization and for biculturation in adolescence. This could be a very useful find-ing but its application is dependent upon many characteristics of 2 3 6 the individual's society, his reference groups, his peer group, and the non-intervention of outside agencies which could arrest develop-ment and maturation. Using Erikson as a major reference, I have concluded that the social-ization of residential school children precluded their maturation to a point where they could "send out tap roots" so vital to the persistence of the culture and the continuity of viable socializa-tion practices. Therefore, I assert that the current parent gener-ation were incompletely socialized and therefore are unable now to firmly socialize their children. Nevertheless, the current youth generation is stabilizing and youths have begun to mature and to send out tap roots. Youths are demanding more concrete Squamish references and knowledge and this has restored the relationship and socializing function of alternating generations. I predict that their children will have strong and stable identities which will possibly make them truly bicultural. I have outlined some general features of Squamish l i f e style and ideology which affect the goals and manner in which their children are socialized. Some of these features are substantially different from those of white society and even show major differences within the Squamish group itself. I have assumed that for those individuals who wish to take part in the economic l i f e of the majority society, there is a necessity to participate in a process of anticipatory socialization. I have concluded that i f the primary process was completed without disrup-tion, the second process could effectively be completed during 237 adolescence. For some, i t is; for others, that process may never occur, or i t must await the completion of developmental tasks vital to a positive and f u l l sense of self. 7. I have demonstrated that the second process of socialization which takes place in the school cannot be successful for children of the old elite because of the perceived discrepancies in cultural goals, attitudes, and values. 8. I have demonstrated that certain legal and historical events have contributed to the differentiation of structure and of interaction at the Capilano reserve. The definition of status and the economic and power base of any family are in part determined by such events. This affects the orientation to, and subsequently the ends and means of, the socialization processes of the different families. 9. The major agent of social change was the church. Missionization of the Squamish took place largely within the residential school and resulted in disrupting the socialization process of the family. Not only did the residential school offer the opportunity for a sec-ond socialization process, i t sought to overlay the fir s t . As a result, many of today's parent generation reflect negative att i -tudes and ideas about self-image. Bitterness expressed by some in-dividuals toward whites blocks the effectiveness of the first socialization process and offsets some of the opportunity for enter-ing an effective second one. 10. Discussion has focussed on the dichotomy of traditional and contem-porary concerns. This dichotomy is not an actual one but is used as an analytic construct. The overlap 'between the old and new is 238 considerable and is seen both in the fusion of old cultural ways with the new as well as in the anachronistic explanations for new practices and goals involved in socialization. 11. The increased participation on the part of many Squamish in the ritual complex attests the importance of ritual in contemporary l i f e . Socialization in the community of the smokehouse not only provides the individual with a second or third process of socialization but has also restored a socializing role to the elderly. 12. The affirmation of Indianness can be found in a number of ways within the Squamish society but it finds its most dramatic expres-sion in the naming and spirit dance ceremonies of the smokehouse. The complex may move further away from traditional ideology and practices as individuals evolve adaptive mechanisms for keeping the ritual practices alive in a contemporary manner. For example, .gi-ven the ethnic opposition of whites and Indians, it may become more important to reassert Indianness by claiming any name than to hold back because family history and genealogical ties are confused. Any names for many may be better than the right names for the few. 13. Models are becoming increasingly available for a l l processes of socialization. Role behaviour appropriate to varying orientations is determined in the first socialization process within the exten-ded family. In the second process of socialization, children of the new elite families have more available models within the kin group than do children of the old elite. For some roles, a l l chil-dren must look outside the community and to white models. The number of models available for the patterning of ritual behaviour 239 is increasing although in effect the availability of knowledgeable people has not increased. Some contemporary ritual functionaries have assumed their roles without necessary knowledge or sanction. As a result, some ritual activities have a chaotic presentation which is decried by the knowledgeable. This may bring about the needed instruction so that the complex will retain a fundamental core as well as an innovative function. To conclude, the Squamish value children highly. 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New York: Knopf Publishers, 1948. Kluckhohn, F., and F. Stradtbeck. Variations in Value Orientations. New York: Harper and Row, 1961. Lane, B. "A Comparative and Analytical Study of Some Aspects of North-west Coast Religion." Ph.D. Thesis, University of Washington, Seattle, 1953. Lemert, E. "The Life and Death of an Indian State." Human Organiza- tion, Vol. 13, No. 3: 23-27, 1954. Lemert, E. Alcohol and the Northwest Coast Indians. University of California Publications in Culture and Society, Vol. 2, No. 6. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1954. LeVine, R. Culture, Behavior and Personality. Chicago: Aldine Press, 1973. Lewis, C. Northwest Coast Families. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1970. Malinowski, B. Magic, Science and Religion. Garden City: Doubleday, 1954. M a l i n o w s k i , B. A Scientific Theory of C u l t u r e . London: Oxford Uni-versity Press, 1960. Mayer, P. (ed.). Socialization: The Approach from Social Anthropology. London: Tavistock Press, 1970. McElroy, A. "Modernization and Cultural Identity: The Socialization of Baffin Island Innuit Children." Unpublished ms. presented at 71st Annual Meeting of the American Anthropological Association, Toronto, 1972. McFeat, T. Indians of the North Pacific Coast. Toronto: McClelland and Stewart Publishing, 1966. Mead, M. Coming of Age in Samoa. New York: Morrow Press, 1928. Mead, M. Growing Up in New Guinea. New York: Morrow Press, 1930. 244 Mead, M., and M. Wolfenstein. Childhood -inxContemporary Cultures. Chi-cago: University of Chicago Press, 1955. Merton, R. Social Theory and Social Structure. New York: Free Press, 1968. Middleton, J. From Child to Adult. New York: American Museum of Nat-ural History, 1970. Miller, F.C., and D.D. Caulkins. "Chippewa Adolescents: A Changing Generation," Human Organization, 23: 150-159, 1964. Morice, A. History of the Catholic Church in Western Canada. Toronto: Munson Book Publishers, 1910. Morris. History of the Indians Since 1500. Moustakas, C. Personal Growth: The Struggle for Identity and Human  Values. Detroit: Merrill-Palmer Institute, 1969. Mowrer, D.H. Learning Theory and Personality Dynamics. New York: Ronald Press, 1950. Mowrer, D.H. Learning Theory and Behavior. New York: Wiley, 1960. Paine, R. "What is Gossip About? An Alternative Hypothesis." Man, Vol. 2, No. 2: 278-85, 1967. Parsons, T. Social Structure and Personality. New York: Free Press, 1964. Paterson, E. "Andrew Paull and Canadian Indian Resurgence." Ph.D. Thesis (History), University of Washington, Seattle, 1962. Pelletier, W. Two Articles. Toronto: Neewin Publishing, 1969. Philpott, S.B. "Trade Unionism and Acculturation: A Comparative Study of Urban Indians and Immigrant Italians." M.A. Thesis (Anthropo-logy/Sociology), University of British Columbia, Vancouver, 1963. Polgar, S. "Biculturation of Mesquakie Teenage Boys." American Anth- ropologist, 60: 217-233, 1960. Robinson, S. "Spirit Dancing Among the Salish Indians of Vancouver Island." Ph.D. Thesis, University of Chicago (Anthropology), Chicago, 1963. Shankel, G. "The Development of Indian Policy in British Columbia." Ph.D. Thesis, University of Washington, Seattle, 1945. 245 Simpson, R. "Parental Influence, Anticipatory Socialization and Social Mobility." American Sociological Review, 27: 517-522, 1962. Singer, M. "A Survey of Cult and Personality Theory and Research." In B. Kaplan (ed.), Studying Personality Cross-Culturally. Evans-ton: Row, Peterson, 1961. Spiro, M. "Social Systems, Personality and Functional Analysis." In B. Kaplan (ed.), Studying Personality Cross-Culturally. Evanston: Row, Peterson, 1961. Spradley, J. Culture and Cognition. Toronto: Chandler Publishing, 1972. Suttles, W. "Katzie Ethnographic Notes," Memoir No. 2, Anthropology  in British Columbia. Victoria: Provincial Museum of British ' Columbia, 1955. Suttles, W. "Private Knowledge, Morality and Social Classes Among the Coast Salish." American Anthropologist, 60: 497-507, 1958. Suttles, W. "Affinal Ties, Subsistence and Prestige Among the Coast Salish." American Anthropologist, 62: 296-305, 1960. Suttles, W. "Spirit Dancing and the Persistence of Native Culture Among the Coast Salish." Unpublished ms., 6th International Con-gress of Anthropological and Ethnographic Sciences, Paris, 1960a. Suttles, W. "The Persistence of Intervillage Ties Among the Coast Salish." Ethnology, Vol. 2, 4: 512-25, 1963. Thorndike, E. Human Nature and the Social Order. Cambridge, Massachu-setts: Massachusetts Institute of Technology Press, 1969. Turner, V. The Ritual Process. Chicago: Aldine Press, 1969. Varma, B. "The Squamish: A Study of Changing Political Organization." M.A. Thesis, University of British Columbia, Vancouver, 1954. Wallace, A. Culture and Personality (2nd ed.). New York: Random House, 1970. Whiting, B. Six Cultures: Studies of Child Rearing. New York: Wiley Press, 1963. Whiting, J., and I. Child. Child Training and Personality-: \A Cross- Cultural Study. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1953. Wike, J. "Modern Spirit Dancing of Northern Puget Sound." M.A. Thesis, University of Washington (Anthropology), Seattle, 1945. 246 , J. "The Role of the Dead in Northwest Coast Culture," Pp. 97-103 in S. Tax (ed.), Indian Tribes of Aboriginal America. Proceedings of the 29th International Congress of Americanists, Vol. 3, 1952. A N A L Y S I S O F E V I D E N C E — T A B L E A — R E F E R E N C E A N D G E N E R A L T R I B E O R B A N D R 3 E R V E ' ! O C C U P I E D OR N ° - J U N O C C U P I E D P A C E S C H E D U L E 1 V I S I T A T I O N A N D } • L F B F 4 R R I N S P E C T I O N A t h c * i » L . P E R C A P . A C R E ^ O E G E N E R A L C O N D I T I O N C O M M U N I T Y B U I L D I N G S F A C I L I T I E S O F A C C E S S V A L U E S P E C I A L D o Smesrv-1.1 i sB | D o ! " j IOO D o 10.CO 6 . 0 3 F i i h i i v , s tat ion, h u n t i n g base 'an'} j \ c r . on Pender l i a r -b o u i . * . ta i i s ; . ; r . i Strai t . N o n e W a t e r $ 1 , 5 0 0 . 0 0 D o S e i b t m IQ ! D o j IOO D o 6.50 8.03 F i s h i n g n a t i o n , orchard and garden at G a r d e n B a y , P e n -der H a r b o u r . N o n e W a t e r $ 1 , 3 0 0 . 0 0 . •'- . D o G r a v e y a r d 100 D o 0 . 3 5 8.03 G r a v e y a r d on Garden B a y , a d j o i n i n g N o . 1 9 . N o n e W a t e r D o ; • S a l l a b l u i ( i ) t o O c c u p i e d IOO D o 3.40 8.03 C a m p i n g g r o u n d , garden and f ishing stat ion on Pender H a r b o u r , opposite Gerran 's B a y . N o n e W a t e r $ 3 0 0 . 0 0 j D o 1 • • SallahJus ( 3 ) s o A D o 100 D o 1,00 8.03 F i s h i n g stat ion on G e r r a n ' s B a y . N o n e W a t e r $ 1 0 0 . 0 0 D o S e k a l t t o n a i I n t e r m i t t e n t l y • l o o b o i . a j 8.03 F i s h i n g stat ion and c a m p i n g g r o u n d on r o c k y i s land i n Pender H a r b o u r , M a l a s p i n a Strai t . N o n e W a t e r $ 3 , 3 0 0 . 0 0 | • ' D o Saugfciui aught sa 1 O c c u p i e d soo D o 3 5 - 0 0 8.03 F i s h : ; . ; ; s tat ion and garden area or. the eastern shore of A g a m e m n o n Channel . N o n e - W a t e r • 1 $ 7 0 0 . 0 0 \ ! \ ! D o C o q u t r - e e t i i 3 3 J D o 100 D o 6 0 . 0 0 8 . 0 3 O r c h a r d tract and f ishing stat ion at the m o u t h of E a g i t Creek, W u l / f s o h n B a y . N o n e W a t e r $1 ,300 . 0 0 • S q u a m i s h M i s s i o n .' z D o 100 J u n e i j a n d ao, 1913 3 8 . 0 0 16 .59 V i l l a g e l i te on the n o r t h shore of B u r r a r d Inlet , ad-j o i n i n g and v i r t u a l l y form-i n g part of the C i t y of N o r t h V a n t o*j vt r. R. C . C h u r c h , P r i e s t ' s H o u s e , B a n d H a l l R a i l , road and water * ( 7 3 8 , 5 0 0 . 0 0 • H a s water system, s:reet l i g h t i n g , s idewalks , etc. D o • \ . v / . S e y m e u r Creek • D o IOO J u n e a i , 1 9 1 3 147.00 1 6 . 5 9 Semi-cul t ivable tract on the n o i t h there of B u r r a r d Inlet . N o n e R o a d a n d water $ 1 3 5 , 0 0 0 . 0 0 j s - ! : . • ' : ; . S q u a m i s h ' \: ( B u r r a r d Inlet B a n d ) D o • IOO J u n e 33, 1913 3 7 5 . 0 0 • 1 6 . 5 9 ; S t m i - c u l t i v a b l - area on n o r t h shore of B u r r a r d Inlet , a miles cast of N o . 3. R. C . C h u r c h R o a d a n d water $ 1 5 , 0 0 0 . 0 0 D o ( A n d M u s q u e a m ) Inlail«*//a*jsh ( I n d U n F i v e r ) 4 " 7 I n t e r m i t t e n t l y IOO " D o 3 3 . 0 0 1 6 . 5 9 Fi:.h;.-i;; r ' a l i s n a n d ' r.v.rtinf; base c n l n r ! ; s n R i v e r , at the head of t ' : i : r .orti. arm of K u r ; * r d Jr.let. N o n e W a t e r $ 1 0 , 5 0 0 , 0 0 1 i j S q u a m i s h : ( K a p i l a n o B a n d ) K t p i l i n o O c c u p i e d 100 J u n e s i , 1915 4 J J . J 0 -1 6 . 5 9 V i l l a ~e L'-M- - and fishirj; n a -t ion a*. -\',*. i.\<.uiii w K--.>•-lano I'tvf.r, opposite O i l y *.f V a n c o u v e r . R. C . C h u r c h R o a d , r a i l a n d water $ 3 5 9 , 0 0 0 , 0 0 • " i I 1 S q u a m i s h T r i b e K i t s i l j * ' . * or | 6 i U n o c c u p i e d F a l s e Cr-..V. ! ; I . - • ' !• 1 101 i D o ! 6 9 . 4 8 I I I 6 . 5 9 Fisl.ir-f-; ' •. n cn-* c-'impinr; pla-<: UM «'-;•- t . - . . ; h *!iore of • r a ' * t C ' : C ' V , M it-; i n i u ' t h , v i r l j i t l i / v.-'thin V a n c o u v e r C i i y . N o n t K o a d , r a i l a n d water $ 4 6 5 , 9 3 0 . 0 0 - } - j ^ A b a n d o n e d b y the I n d i a n a | for publ ic requirements, j fVa ' .ue to be a r b i t r a t e d : up-! wards of Sl .ooo.oco has been offered. i N e w W e s t m i n s t e r A g e n c y — A * A N A L Y S I S O F E V I D E N C E — T A B L E A — R E F E R E N C E A N D G E N E R A L '• TRIBE OR BAND RESERVE No. O C C U P I E D OR U N O C C U P I E D PAGE SCHEDULE VISITATION AND INSPECTION ACREAGE PER CAP. ACREAGE G E N E R A L C O N D I T I O N C O M M U N I T Y B U I L D I N G S F A C I L I T I E S O F A C C E S S . V A L U E S P E C I A L • D o S k o w i s h i n - 1 I n t e r m i t t e n t l y 101 A u g . 17, 1915 100.00 16.59 F i s h i n g n a t i o n and t imber area on the left bank of S q u a m i s h R i v e r , 35 miles from its m o u t h . N o n e \ R o a d $3,000.00 '* • I n d i a n * tay 3 acres of best l a n d los t b y erosion. ",* . Do C h u c k c h u c k J ( • . , I I n t e r m i t t e n t l y . t o i D o 0.15 16.59 O l d f ishing stat ion and grave-y a r d , on the r i g h t bank of S q u a m i s h R i v e r , 3 miles above N o . 7. N o n e W a t e r -. Do P o y a m ' 9 . : • ! •' 101 D o O.67 16.59 G r a v e y a r d on the left bank of S q u a m i s h R i v e r . N o n e W a t e r Do S k o w i s h i n ' j to i 101 D o O.IO 16.59 G r a v e y a r d on the left bank of S q u a m i s h R i v e r . N o n e W a t e r • S q u a m i s h T r i b e : ' ( C h r a k a m u s B a n d ) " • • ' i-C h c a k a m u s it I n t e r m i t t e n t l y lOI A u g . 17, i p i j 4,046.50 16.59 Pasturage and t i m b e r area on the left bank of the S q u a m -ish R i v e r , between C h e m a i Creek and C h e a k a m u s R i v e r . N o n e P . G . E . R . a n d R o a d $128,000.00 .': S q u a m i s h T r i b e : (YookwiU B a n d ) ... .1 v , • ' ' Y o o k w i t z 12 D o 101 D o 33.00 16.50 F i s h i n g stat ion on the r i g h t bank of S q u a m i s h R i v e r , op-posite m o u t h of C h c a k a m u s R i v e r . N o n e R o a d a n d water (1,500.00 D o P o q u i o s i n a n d Skamain-u D o 101 D o 111.Bo 16.59 P i s h i n g station and h u n t i n g base, on the left bank of the S q u a m i s h R i v e r , near the m o u t h of C h e a k a m u s R i v e r . ' N o n e P . G . E . R . , r o a d a n d water $6,500.00 \ ^ \ D o W a i w a k u m >4 D o 101 D o 37.00 16-59 F i s h i n g stat ion, on the left bank of the S q u a m i s h R i v e r . N o n e P . G . E . R . a n d road $2,000.00 D o . A i n w u c k s ' 15 D o lOI D o 37.45* 16.39 F i s h i n g stat ion a n d c a m p i n g g r o u n d , N o n e W a t e r $500.00 ' C o n s i d e r a b l e area lost b y e r o s i o n . . S q u a m i s h T r i b e : >i. (beaichem B a n d ) S e a i c h c m 16 O c c u p i e d 101 D o 68.00 16.59 S u m m e r pasturage a n d farm-i n g area on the left bank of K o w t a i n S l o u g h , S q u a m i s h R i v e r . i N o n e P . G . E . R . a n d r o a d $20,004.00 •> S q u a m i s h T r i b e : . ( K o w t a i n B a n d ) K o w t a i n . • D o 101 D o 57-50* 16.59 O n the left bank of K o w t a i n S l o u g h and i n c l u d i n g i s land. N o n e R o a d $20,000.00 • A p p r o x i m a t e l y 5 acres of c u l t i v a t e d l a n d lost b y eros ion. D o Y e k w a u p s u m 18 D o 101 D o 4-5° 16.59 F i s h i n g s tat ion. N o n e P . G . E . R . a n d road $4,000.00 • B a l a n c e of o ld Reserve s o l d to P . G . E . R . C o . D o ! j • B u r i a l G r o u n d j j> j l o l D o 3.»5 16.59 Graveyard. ' N o n e W a t e r $1,000.00 D o ' M e m s q u u m I s l a n d * | »o SOI 13.00 16.59 • S o l d to P . G . E . R . C o . D o S q u a m i s h I s l a n d * i t l o i 416.50 16.59 • S o l d to P . G . E - R- Co. Do S k w u l w a i l u r i i * j is 101 188.33 16.59 • S o l d to P . G- E . R. C o . to •pv 00 N e w W e s t m i n s t e r A g e n c y — A o A N A L Y S I S O F E V I D E N C E — T A B L E A — R E F E R E N C E A N D G E N E R A L 'TRIBE OR 8 AND R E S E R V E N o . O C C U P I E D OR U N O C C U P I E D PAGE S C H E D U L E VISITATION A N D INSPECTION A C R E A G E PER C A P . A C R E A G E G E N E R A L C O N D I T I O N C O M M U N I T Y B U I L D I N G S F A C I L I T I E S O F A C C E S S V A L U E S P E C I A L A h t i a m * 102 939.20 16.59 \ • S o l d to P . G . E . R . C o . D o - ; . ' . - S tawamus . ' ( t • M I n t e r m i t t e n t l y 101 A u g . 17. 1915 40.00* 16.59 V i l l a g e site on eastern shore of H o w e Sound, at i ts head. N o n e W a t e r $50,000.00 • B a l a n c e of R e i e r v e of 141.50 acres so!d t o P . G . E . R . C o . D o : K a i k a l a h u n >5 D o 101 D o 33.00 16.59 F i s h i n g station o n western shore of H o w e S o u n d Oppo-site W o o l r i d g e I s l a n d . N o n e W a t e r $1,000.00 C h e k w c l p . 16 " D o l o a D o 34.50 16-59 F i s h i n g station o n western shore of H o w e S o u n d , oppo-site K e a t s I s l a n d . N o n e W a t e r $4,000.00 D o ; J 6 A 10a D o O.30 16.59 G r a v e y a r d . D o B u r i a l G r o u n d *7 103 D o O.50 16.59 D o D o ; * • Defence I s l a n d 1 98 103 D o 33 0O I6.59 O l d b u r i a l place. W a t e r $100 .00 ..' Tsawwasaen Taawwassen O c c u p i e d 103 A p r i l 39, 1914 604.35 13.085 V i l l a g e site and f a r m i n g area o n the Gulf of G e o r g i a , near P o i n t Roberts . R. C . C h u r c h R o a d a n d water $130,000-00 ' ' S H a m m o n S l i a m m o n 1 D o 103 F e b . 19, 1915 l,924-50 42.08 V i l l a g e site on l a n d on n o r t h shore of M a l a s p i n a Stra i t , east of H a r w o o d I s l a n d . R. C . C h u r c h Deep water $60,000.00 \ \ ' . D o ' : : : 1 '- : t, H a r w b o d I s l a n d ' • D o 103 D o 3,095.00 42.08 F i s h i n g station a n d f a r m i n g area on Gulf- of G e o r g i a , opposite N o . 1. N o n e Deep water ' $50,000.00 i'.';' D o P a u k e a n u m 3 D o 10? D o 300.00 43.08 F a r m i n g area of indifferent character on Smel t B a y , Cortex Is land. N o n e Deep water $3,500.00 •'. D o 1 T o q u a n a J 4 I n t e r m i t t e n t l y - 103 D o 395.50 43.08 F i s h i n g station at the head of T h e o d o s i a A r m , M a l a s -p i n a Inlet . 1 N o n e Deep water $4,500.00 D o T o k e n a t c h 5 O c c u p i e d 101 D o 53.00 42.08 F i s h i n g stat ion at the head of F r e k e ' s A n c h o r a g e , M a l a -spina Inlet . N o n e D e e p water $1,500.00 ii:-.- D o K a h k a y k a y ' : 6 •' 1 I n t e r m i t t e n t l y 102 D o 45 .00 42.68 C a m p i n g place, f ishing sta-t ion and h u n t i n g base - on Gi f ford P e n i n s u l a , M a l a s p i n a Inlet . N o n e Deep water $200.00 Sumass f 1 Y a a l s t r t c k • j 1 :"- • '•' !•• I n t e r m i t t e n t l y 101 Sept. 4, if is 283.OO 16.07 F i s h i n g station and g r a z i n g area on small i s l a n d in the F r a s e r R i v e r , N o n e W a t e r $2,8So.OO . D O ••• .; . L a c k a w a y • 1 a O c c u p i e d . 103 D o 39 -0O* 16.07 P o t e n t i a l f a n n i n g plot on the left bank of the F r a s e r R i v e r , opposite N o . 1. N o n e W a t e r a n d C . N . P - R . $3 ,000.00 • L e s s a l l o w e d right-cf-wav of C . N . P . R . a n d a c r c a j e lest b y e r o s i o n . N e w W e s t m i n s t e r A g e n c y — A 1 0 APPENDIX 2 U t i l i t y *• Door-K I T C K E I f B A Dancers' Tents i f any i / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / I I I I I I I' I' I s e D ( F i r e ) A a a \ r t n Waning e i c and/or a n i Curing Area g n s e S / \ I Fire I / c t Host i X o Receiving n s Hosts' Seats g V K I T C H E N Guest Entry SMOKEHOUSE FLOOR PLAINS (A A2tD B) 0 0 4 Family One 0fA= O O----A 6=:A A=0 O A A A M AA^O OVA £ 0 £ I A 0 0 0 Q | A A 1 A/> 4A I cT4 Z ^ = 0 A=0 i r o P a m i l y / w o AA A=0 F omily Two 8 \ AvQ Q j A i s p A p A p O 6 A OA A OA o 6 A o A A o A o O A o A AO A 6=A6 6 A 2 5 r Family Two C :A=O A APPENDIX 3 - Chart 1 A male O female = married separated, divorced ^,,1, | twins A A o O O O A . dec eased ®~\ single mother ! adopted B3 OJA A=Oj^ 6 O DA A APPI'.iIDTX 3 - Chart 2 Solid number = senior household (Fa/Mo) a = Fa/Fa, Fa/Mo, Mo/Fa, Mo/Mo b = Fa/So c = afinc connection 252 Fa/Bro Fa/Si Mo/Si Mo/Bro Stranger 2 2 2 2 1 8 il 4 ' '/ \; 3b ' o 2 1 0 2e 9b L a wa . St 2 8 0 2b 2 7 0 2 T ~ j — 2 2 5 j 2 2 1 ,6,6b '7(5c) 2 1 7 8 ' I " 2 1 3 i 2 0 9 6b I 9b , £ 2 6 ' 2 2 2 I 2 1 8 4d 2 1 4 2 1 0 Id » 2a 1 2d Pai t s ma uk St i ' (I2cjf\l2c/| . 2 2 5 J 2 2 1 2 1 7 jlOf 110,10b l i d r — t — ! 2 2 6 | 2 2 2 2 1 8 2 0 9 12b 12 2 1 4 12b 12b I 13 2 1 0 12d 26 • 2 0 1 2 5 0 5b Jacobs Street 2 4 0 lg 2 0 I 4b 2e 2 1 O 4 G o l f C o u r s e VILLAGE SITE CAPILANO RESERVE B . C . S c a / e l"-180 0 


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