Oka vet water polo national

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She emerged from Oka as a 14-year-old Mohawk with a bloodied body, a

wounded spirit, and a battered soul. Today, six years later, a scar

marks the spot where a soldier stabbed her in the chest with a bayonet

as she left the Oka barricades. But deeper scars, the emotional ones

inside her heart, have healed.

With the help of family, friends and her love of sports, Waneek

Horn-Miller has blossomed into a world-class athlete, a dedicated

student and a role model for native youth. Her ordeal at Oka became the

force that motivated her to excel in life.

"It centered me," she explained. "It gave me the drive to do

something, to be something."

Now 20, Horn-Miller is studying psychology and political science at

Ottawa's Carleton University. Sports has become the special "something"

that dominates her life, and water polo is the sport she loves best.

Horn-Miller is the starting two-metre guard on the 1996 senior team.

Twice named Carleton's female athlete of the year, she was leading

scorer and most valuable player for two years on the university women's

water polo team. She's played on a number of the national and national

all-star teams, and won a total of 18 gold medals in the pool at the

North America Indigenous Games.

When the Oka crisis erupted in the summer of 1990, Horn-Miller's mother

went there from Ottawa, where they were living, to help "because she

worked in government, so she knew how to deal with (government)," she

said.

"I had this idea about going to save a Third World country,"

Horn-Miller recalled. "But my mom said: 'Your people live in Third

World conditions right here, right in your own back yard. You can't go

around saving the world before you take care of your own.'

"I grew up (during the crisis)," she said. "I just realized how

important being Native was and how important culture is."

But what happened on the last day of the siege remains preserved "in

flashes" of her memory. Women and children were being led out of Oka

first. As Horn-Miller wove through the maze of soldiers and reporters

with her little sister at her side, a soldier stabbed her in the chest

with a bayonet.

"Then they tripped me," she said. "I fell on my back and my sister

fell on top of me. I didn't even realize I'd been stabbed. It just

felt like I had the wind knocked out of me. When I looked down, I was

bleeding everywhere." Luckily, the bayonet blade deflected off her

sternum and didn't go too deep but military officials didn't treat the

wound for more than 20 hours, causing it to become infected.

Even after the physical wounds had healed, the months following Oka

were still difficult. The experience brought Horn-Miller's family

closer together, but exhausted her physically and emotionally, making

her bitter towards all non-Native people.

"I came out of (Oka) really racist and I didn't know what to do," she

said. "I was really stressed out. I felt very alienated from my old

friends that I had been in high school with. I couldn't relate to their

values any more."

She overcame her overwhelming bitterness with the support of

understanding family and friends, including her water polo teammates.

"I could've become really racist and done nothing with that

experience," she said. "I could've really isolated myself, but I went

through (Oka) for a reason and I decided not to let it hinder me; I'm

going to let it do something for me."