First Nations, Identity, and Reserve Life: The Mi'kmaq of Nova Scotia

2. Tracing the Boundaries: Community, Social Relationships, and Mi’kmaw Identity

Willow Street is a two-lane road running north-south from downtown Truro. It once functioned as the main artery connecting central Nova Scotia to the city of Halifax and to the western shore of the province. In its last part Willow Street splits the Millbrook Reserve in half. Still, if it were not for a few recognizable elements, such as the reserve sign, the big brand-new high-tech band office complex, the Millbrook gym, and the wooden replica of a teepee in somebody’s front yard, the casual driver would never have the impression that they were zooming through a Mi’kmaw reserve. Yes, zooming. By the time people may start to get hints as to their whereabouts, they have already crossed the reserve border and entered or exited Truro, according to the direction of driving. Mary, a non-Native woman who resides and works in Truro, said, “In Millbrook you wouldn’t know that you’re driving through a reserve until you pass in front of that teepee. That’s the only recognizable thing, unless you go in the summer during the powwow.” She also added, “You have to pass through Millbrook to go anywhere.”1 “Up the road” —what most of Millbrook residents call the upper part of the reserve, west of Abenaki Road—thousands of daily drivers did not get a clear visual indication that the portion of Highway 102 they were driving on runs through reserve land. They have that indication now, since a 40-foot statue of Klu’skap Tracing the Boundaries Community, Social Relationships, and Mi’kmaw Identity Two 44 tracing the boundaries (or Glooscap), the Mi’kmaw culture hero, has been erected recently in the Power Centre right beside the highway (see illustrations 9 and 10). The construction of Highway 102—the only highway in Nova Scotia stretching north to south, which runs parallel to Willow Street just a few hundred yards away—through the reserve smelled and tasted like a typical case (if one can use this unfortunate, but appropriate, term) of miscarried Indian policy by the government. After all, the Millbrook Mi’kmaq had already been relocated from an area on the Salmon River close to downtown Truro to another parcel of land on King Street and, finally, to the current location on the fringes of town in the early 20th century, as Millbrook chief Lawrence Paul told me when I visited him.2 map 7. The town of Truro, Nova Scotia, and the Millbrook Reserve. Map by Lynn Carlson, gis Manager, Brown University. tracing the boundaries 45 Interestingly enough, the non-Mi’kmaw official version of the event, presented in the website of the municipality of Truro, is dissimilar to the Mi’kmaw one. The official history of the town describes Truro’s early territorial relationship with the Mi’kmaq in these terms: In the Truro area they [the Mi’kmaq] camped along the shores of the Salmon River in the 17 and 1800’s. When this land was sold to the School of Agriculture in the 1880’s, the Mi’kmaq were given land in the vicinity of St. Mary’s School on King Street [which is in the downtown area; see Map 7], near the railroad crossing. This became known as Christmas Crossing, after their leader of the time. As Truro grew the Mi’kmaq realized more woodland was necessary for them to continue to have enough wood for fuel, and for making baskets and axe handles as well as enough land for hunting and fishing for food. Arrangements were made by the federal government for 5. Willow Street, August 2003. The Millbrook gym is on the left and the band office complex is in the background. Photograph by author. 46 tracing the boundaries the Mi’kmaq to exchange their land at Christmas Crossing for land on the Halifax Road. This became the Millbrook Reserve.3 Both Chief Paul’s account and Millbrook’s official website highlight that the Mi’kmaq were not “given the land” on King Street after the sale of their original settlement site. Rather, “When the school started expanding, the native people were moved to property on King Street.”4 Presenting the Natives’ change of residency either as a case of governmental concession or as a unilateral decision imposed upon the Mi’kmaq, the two contrasting versions seem part of a struggle for control over the historical narrative. It is...