Education a priority for Blood dad

Page 9

Being off work on a disability has been a boon for Blood Reserve resident Leonard Chiefmoon. The 29-year-oild cheese factory worker says it's given him time to watch his baby daughter grow.

"With the other two girls, I was gone all day, and by the time I got home at night I was too tired to really pay attention. But with the baby, (nine-month-old Randi), I've been watching her learn to crawl and stand up. I'm enjoying my little girl."

For Leonard, being a father is a real blessing, though it's a lot of work. A strong believer in discipline, he feels it's important to teach his daughters to work hard, respect people's differences and respect property. Education is also an important goal he has for his children.

"You have to have an education today to do anything," he says. "I had three brothers and two sisters and they all went through high school, though I dropped out when I was 16. I guess I took some wrong turns and dug myself into a hole, but lucky for me, I had my parents to help me out."

Leonard credits his parents not only with being supportive of him, but of always showing they loved him. "My dad (John Chiefmoon) worked real hard, out on the land and on the Council, so I didn't see him much, but I always knew he loved us a lot. I guess I was kind of scared of him as a kid, because he believed in discipline, but he also believed in rewarding us and I knew he had a big heart. He taught us a lot, too - to look after the cattle and ride horses, and about the old traditions. And I learned about being a good father from him, too."

Though Leonard learned a lot from his dad, he's gone his own way in many things, placing less emphasis on his Native heritage than his father did.

"I think it's more important for my girls to learn how to read and write, and to work hard and have respect for things. The Native schools don't teach discipline - that's why I send my girl to public school in Glenwood. I can teach her about her culture at home."

"Sometimes I'll pretend to be an Indian," he says jokingly, "and go out hunting with a bow. My father taught me how to survive outdoors - what plants to eat and how

to make a fire without matches."

Economic pressures force both Leonard and his wife to work, (Ethel's on the nursing staff at the Cardston Municipal Hospital) so finding time to do things as a family is sometimes a problem for them.

"It's important to do things together," he says. "I see a lot of Bingo orphans on the reserve. If kids are left alone too much, they get into trouble. It's not good."

"My dad worked real hard when I was a kid - there were no social services and you had to work for things - but he was always there when I needed him."

John Chiefmoon is still there for his children and grandchildren and his house is a welcoming place for them to gather. Little ones run and play on the wide balcony and it's obvious from his ways with them, even scolding them gently in Blackfoot, that there's a great deal of love in the house.

"Loving each other is the most important thing," John says. "When I got married the minister asked me, 'Will you take care of this woman and love her?' and I said yes. And he asked my wife, 'Will you take care of this man and love him?' and she said yes,

and we've loved each other all these years.

Money is a concern for John and his family. As a small rancher with just a few cattle, he has no steady job and money only comes in a few times a year. And he sees money as an overall problem for many Native families.

"The youngsters don't have good clothes to go to school. The other kids make

fun of them and they get ashamed and don't want to go to school any more. They need education to get jobs. The government doesn't give money to the Indian for school. They tell you to go to Indian Affairs, but they don't give a damn. So there's no jobs and the young men take up drinking."

John himself is an abstainer and he hopes his grandchildren will be too.

"I don't think the girls will drink, but the menthey marry will. That's bad. They drink up all the money and they don't work. Then they beat the wife and even the children.

"It's better for women to go without men and be happy, than to live with a man who abuses them. I've taught my children and my grandchildren that. They can come home here if they need to."