Page 12

Vancouver Island carver and painter Charles Elliott began his career as an artist when he was a child, carving miniature canoes for his friends and family.

Now he is as well known in his Tsartslip Reserve community as he is on the mainland. His work includes several notable totem poles, including one at the University

Page 12

Vancouver Island carver and painter Charles Elliott began his career as an artist when he was a child, carving miniature canoes for his friends and family.

Now he is as well known in his Tsartslip Reserve community as he is on the mainland. His work includes several notable totem poles, including one at the University

Page 12

Vancouver Island carver and painter Charles Elliott began his career as an artist when he was a child, carving miniature canoes for his friends and family.

Now he is as well known in his Tsartslip Reserve community as he is on the mainland. His work includes several notable totem poles, including one at the University

Page 10

She was to become the greatest connection I ever had to my Blackfoot ancestors, to my grandmother, my great-grandmother.

On a cold foggy morning I went to interview Beatrice Poor Eagle, whose Blackfoot name translated means "at home stay women." She is an 80-year-old Elder from the Siksika Nation near Calgary.

Poor Eagle greeted my mother, Audrey Crane, with a warm smile and a kiss.

My mother acted as my interpreter, since Poor Eagle felt more comfortable speaking Blackfoot.

Page 10

She was to become the greatest connection I ever had to my Blackfoot ancestors, to my grandmother, my great-grandmother.

On a cold foggy morning I went to interview Beatrice Poor Eagle, whose Blackfoot name translated means "at home stay women." She is an 80-year-old Elder from the Siksika Nation near Calgary.

Poor Eagle greeted my mother, Audrey Crane, with a warm smile and a kiss.

My mother acted as my interpreter, since Poor Eagle felt more comfortable speaking Blackfoot.

Page 10

She was to become the greatest connection I ever had to my Blackfoot ancestors, to my grandmother, my great-grandmother.

On a cold foggy morning I went to interview Beatrice Poor Eagle, whose Blackfoot name translated means "at home stay women." She is an 80-year-old Elder from the Siksika Nation near Calgary.

Poor Eagle greeted my mother, Audrey Crane, with a warm smile and a kiss.

My mother acted as my interpreter, since Poor Eagle felt more comfortable speaking Blackfoot.

Page 10

She was to become the greatest connection I ever had to my Blackfoot ancestors, to my grandmother, my great-grandmother.

On a cold foggy morning I went to interview Beatrice Poor Eagle, whose Blackfoot name translated means "at home stay women." She is an 80-year-old Elder from the Siksika Nation near Calgary.

Poor Eagle greeted my mother, Audrey Crane, with a warm smile and a kiss.

My mother acted as my interpreter, since Poor Eagle felt more comfortable speaking Blackfoot.

Pages 8 and 9

The economic reality for the Lake Manitoba Band is bleak and all too familiar:

95 per cent unemployment, heavy reliance on welfare, substandard living conditions and no resources.

Prospects for the 1,000 band members are as dismal as the flat and rock-studded fields that yield few opportunities for farming or livestock. The only harvest in the area, about 200 kilometres north of Winnipeg, is despair.

"There's nothing to do," band member Florence McLean sadly laments. "We have no drop-in centre, no nothing. It's just dead."

Pages 8 and 9

The economic reality for the Lake Manitoba Band is bleak and all too familiar:

95 per cent unemployment, heavy reliance on welfare, substandard living conditions and no resources.

Prospects for the 1,000 band members are as dismal as the flat and rock-studded fields that yield few opportunities for farming or livestock. The only harvest in the area, about 200 kilometres north of Winnipeg, is despair.

"There's nothing to do," band member Florence McLean sadly laments. "We have no drop-in centre, no nothing. It's just dead."

Pages 8 and 9

The economic reality for the Lake Manitoba Band is bleak and all too familiar:

95 per cent unemployment, heavy reliance on welfare, substandard living conditions and no resources.

Prospects for the 1,000 band members are as dismal as the flat and rock-studded fields that yield few opportunities for farming or livestock. The only harvest in the area, about 200 kilometres north of Winnipeg, is despair.

"There's nothing to do," band member Florence McLean sadly laments. "We have no drop-in centre, no nothing. It's just dead."