Ottawa Report

Page 2

I didn't do much writing this summer because I took a couple of weeks off and went to British Columbia. Don't get excited, though, this is not going to be one of those "What-I-Did-On-My-Summer-Vacation" stories. But while I was in Vancouver, I was invited to a very special event.

The Law Society was holding a ceremony to call a hundred new lawyers to the bar. They sat as a group under the glass canopy of the brand-new provincial courthouse. There were only two Indian faces in the sea of black-robed lawyers.

As I watched the ceremony unfold, I couldn't help thinking that I never used to like lawyers because many of them became judges or politicians. And I didn't like judges, politicians or lawyers because they were upholding a system that was keeping us down.

A generation ago, the only contact between lawyers and Native people occurred in court, when some Indian, Metis or Inuk was facing criminal charges. Almost always, the Native defendants pleaded guilty. Sometimes, they even pleaded guilty when they were innocent just to get the whole thing over with. In the process, the lawyer was usually a little more than a sympathetic white face on the way to jail.

Very few Native people challenged the legal system in those days because they didn't know their rights and they didn't fight for them. That's changing these days, thank goodness. Fewer and fewer Native defendants plead guilty automatically. More and more Native defendants are putting up a defense.

It's taken a long time for Native people simply to defend themselves. It's taken even longer for the realization to sink in that lawyers and the courts can be used as a weapon in the fight for justice. Nowadays, Native groups are in court almost everywhere challenging the whiteman's hunting and fishing laws. They haven't stopped there. They're also arguing with the Prime Minister and the premiers for constitutional protection of Native rights.

As the ceremony continued, I thought about the fact that more than 100 Native people have graduated from law school in the past 15 years. We're going to need even more because many Native law school graduates are not practising law. They've gone to work instead for the government or a Native organization. Very few have become criminal lawyers.

It takes special skills and a special person to be a good courtroom lawyer. It's the kind of job that Hollywood and the public is fascinated with. It's also the kind of job that we need more Native people doing. As it turns out, one of the two Indians in the crowd of new lawyers that day plans to specialize in criminal law and for that I have a special respect for him.

His name is Len Maracle. He's not like the other new lawyers, and not just because he's an Indian. He's 60-years old. He has seven children and 19 grandchildren. He went to an Indian residential school and never finished high school. He worked most of his life as a carpenter contractor to support his family. When his children were grown he quit the construction business and began working for Native organizations. Eventually he decided to go back to school He got his high school equivalency degree, graduated from university and then went to law school. It wasn't easy. He failed his second year and had to repeat it.

I witnessed his entry into the legal profession when he stepped forward to accept his certificate. It took him eight years of hard work and study, but on that day he finally achieved his dream and became a lawyer. When the ceremony was over the 100 new lawyers were surrounded by family and friends. The circle around Len was larger than most because it was a day of celebration for the Native community. One of their own had been admitted into what used to be a closed circle of white power and privilege.

I know Len's entry into the legal profession won't begin to meet the many legal needs facing our people. In fact, his new status will probably have little meaning except to he Native clients he defends. But the importance of his achievement will be measured in more important places than a courtroom. It's already been felt in the hearts of young and old as a spark of inspiration and a flame of hope.

Like the others who've been touched by this achievement, I too shared in the joy and celebration. As a journalist, I can't resist a heartwarming Native success story. But my interest in this story goes beyond that because I know the amount of work Len did, I know the obstacles he overcame to achieve his goal. I know all that because the Indian grandfather who became a lawyer in Vancouver that day is my dad. I'm very proud of him and I just had to tell you about it.