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As the Eagle Soars

His first act for social justice came at age 10. Until his recent retirement, Tom Eagle has continued to fight for aboriginal people's rights.

Lynn Lau
Northern News Services

Yellowknife (July 02/01) - Tom Eagle is an outspoken man. Always has been.

His big mouth was once mentioned by the former prime minister Pierre Trudeau.

His big mouth almost got him court marshalled when he was in the army.


Tom Eagle

Yes, his big mouth has gotten him into scrapes but it's also won him some battles too.

"I say what I believe in -- what's the use of keeping them back?" said the lifelong social activist and community leader. "If I did, and if everyone keeps what they're really thinking, if they hold it back, how can we correct these situations? How can we go on with development, whether it's human resource development or economic development?

"I say what has to be said and I'm not afraid to say it because I've always done my research work."

His black eyebrows go up when he's making a point.

Now retired

Eagle retired this month after two decades as the executive director of the Tree of Peace Friendship Centre.

The 69-year-old has spent his life working to improve the lives of aboriginal people. The list of boards and committees he's been a part of takes up most of two pages. He's been busy.

Eagle comes from the Ojibwa Tootinaowaziibeeng (Valley River) First Nation Reserve in central Manitoba, where his father and his grandfather farmed.

He can remember the first time he spoke out and committed an act of social justice. He was 10.

As a child he accompanied his grandfather, the chief, to band council meetings, and heard people complain about the roads made impassable by rain.

One rainy summer day when Eagle was home from residential school, the Indian agent and an RCMP officer came to the reserve to hand out treaty money.

"After they were done, their car got stuck in the mud," Eagle recalled. "It was two miles from the road so they asked my grandfather to help them. My grandfather hitched up the horses to the car and just when he was about to go, I unhooked the chain and I said, 'the band council has been complaining about no roads. Just leave them here.' My grandfather was kind of annoyed with me, but my grandmother came to the rescue.

"She said, 'Our grandson is right. Let them see how it is to travel on our reserve.' So we just left them there. I don't know how they got out. About three years later, they built a highway through the reserve and I give my grandfather credit for that.

"I think it was the way that I was brought up as a child," said Eagle, when asked where he found the courage to speak his mind. "The teachings of the elders in the community, the teachings of my parents and that just continued on."

Holding on to his culture

Ten years at residential school did not erase his language or his culture.

"In my opinion, the residential school failed to learn me French and they failed to take my Ojibwa language," he said.

After residential school, Eagle joined the army and served for 24 years. He was honourably discharged in 1974 with the rank of sergeant. It was with the army that he came to Yellowknife in 1971.

Throughout his military career, Eagle was also involved in the political and social advancement of native people. Described by one colleague as a "grandfather of the friendship centre movement," Eagle is known across the country for his work at the National Association of Friendship Centres and other aboriginal political groups.

In the 60s, he played a role in the formation such groups as the Manitoba Metis Federation, National Indian Brotherhood (the precursor to the Assembly of First Nations), and the Native Council of Canada. He also helped to revive the Manitoba Indian Brotherhood, now the Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs. A subsidized housing cooperative he founded in Winnipeg, still bears the name, Kinew, Ojibwa for "Eagle."

Generations of Northerners know Eagle as the personality behind Camp Antler, a cultural summer camp that he ran for the Tree of Peace from the 1974 until 1998. Asked what he'd like to be remembered for, he said, "a person who helped our own people come to where we are today.

"We've progressed so much," he said. "I think most of the vision that I had is of our development -- native development. And that's now taking place all over. "

In his private life, Eagle and his wife Muriel raised five children and now have 10 grandchildren. With his busy military career and focus on social activism, Eagle said he regrets not spending more time with his children when they were growing up. Although his four older children are largely successful, his youngest son, now 40, struggles with alcoholism and lives on the streets of Yellowknife from time to time.

"It hurts," Eagle said, about watching his son's potential waste away. I pray for him every day, every night. Hopefully, the Creator will show me what to do."

While speaking out and taking action has always helped

Eagle succeed in work, solving problems in private life is not so straightforward. "I knew someone who was a street person, and the parents used to come to me and say, 'Can you do something for my son?' And I would say, 'No, until such time as that person wants to be cured and they want to do it for themselves and on their own, you can give them all the help in the world, send someone to the best treatment centre and have the best counsellor, and it won't help them at all.'"

Eagle is still hoping his son will one day change his life. He and Muriel keep their door open for the day their son wants to come home sober. In the meantime, Eagle said, "the best way to help them is to make them aware that there is another lifestyle and that is having a sober life." He has always believed in leading by example.

With his retirement, Eagle is passing the torch, at least in terms of the Tree of Peace Friendship Centre. His diabetes has been acting up and he can't work as hard as he used to. "My biggest project right now is to get better," he said.

He's supposed to be retired, but last week he was still buzzing around the Tree of Peace, busy with preparations for Aboriginal Day, on the phone to Ottawa helping them with their native veterans march, then teetering on a ladder hoisting flags for the annual picnic lunch to honour elders. In the evenings, he still gets in his daily two-hour swim. He seems to be busier than ever.

He's supposed to be retired, but for a man who has been busy his whole life, slowing down might take a little determination.

And perhaps a few sharp words from his wife.