Wikipedia defines matriarchy as “a social system in which positions of responsibility, dominance and privilege are held by women. In a broader sense it can also extend to moral authority, social privilege, and control of property.”
Imagine a society, that is reverse of what is held true today. Where women are the decision makers for a community. Where women hold the status of power in congregation and ‘around the table’.
The Nisga’a, like many other Indigenous Nations, are matriarchal. As a Nisga’a woman, I come from a long ancestral line of Sigidimhaanak’ (matriarchs). In my Nation, we have four main pdeek (tribes) with two major crests, the Laxgibuu (wolf/bear), the Laxsgiik (eagle/beaver), the Gisk’aast (killerwhale/owl) and the Ganada (raven/frog). When a child is born, they are born into their mother’s pdeek. I am a Laxgibuu, my mother, my jiji (grandmother), my great grandmother, my great great grandmother and so on, are all descendants of the Laxgibuu. All my children will be Laxgibuu, but only my daughters’ children’s will carry the bloodline of the Laxgibuu. My son’s children will follow the pdeek of their mother, if he chooses to marry Indigenous. If my son chooses to marry a non-Indigenous woman, a family other than the Laxgibuu will adopt her into their tribal family, so the Nisga’a culture and traditions can continue. It is against our Ayuuk (Nisga’a Law) to marry someone from the same pdeek.
Each pdeek can have more than one Wilp (house) with a hereditary chief that is responsible for all the family lines that descend from his Wilp. My house chief is ‘Duuk’, therefore, I come from Wilps Duuk (the House of Duuk). Each Wilp also has many heads of families, the Sigidimhaanak’. My maternal jiji (grandmother) was Luu ska dalks, the Sigidimnak’ for our family line. When she passed into the spirit world, the name, her regalia and her duties went to her eldest daughter. As there is no word or concept of Aunt, the daughter that inherited the matriarch role was one of my many mothers, as my mother’s sister.
Sigidimhaanak’ hold the responsibility for giving our Nisga’a names for the descendants in their family line. They also hold the ceremonies, regalia, adaawak (histories/stories), songs and traditions. They had the final say in any matter pertaining to our ways of being and knowing as Nisga’a people.
Today, our Sigidimhaanak’ are overpowered by the patriarchal system that ensued from colonization.
When the settlers arrived and would only negotiate with the men, the disempowerment of our women as decision makers began. At that time, European settlers did not value women. In fact, women were considered property and could be bought and sold in auctions. Deemed valueless, many laws, policies and practices were enacted to not only dimmish the power of our Indigenous women, but for genocide.
The introduction of the Department of Indian Affairs and the Indian Act legalized and enforced many of these laws, policies and practices.
Traditionally, when a Nisga’a couple became married, the man moved into the women’s long house. He provided for her and her family. He hunted, fished and gathered for her Wilp. With the Indian Act, ‘registered’ status Indians, any Indigenous children born from legal Christian marriages, were automatically placed under jurisdiction of the father’s ‘band’. For example, my matriarchal line is from the Nisga’a community of Laxgalts’ap, however, when I was born, I was registered to Gingolx, my father’s Nisga’a band. This was problematic as a matriarchal society as we resided within our matriarchal communities but could not access any means of support from our mother’s community as we were not registered to those lands.
In addition, if you were an Indigenous woman who married a settler, you lost your registered Indian status. You essentially lost your right to be an ‘Indian’ under the Canadian government . . . you were no longer considered Indigenous. However, a non-Indigenous woman gained Indian status if she married an Indigenous man. Essentially white women were raising Indigenous families with no knowledge of the language, culture and traditions to pass on.
Moreover, British Columbia also passed a Sexual Sterilization Act, which was in effect from 1933 to 1973. Many, Indigenous women and girls were sexually sterilized in Indian Hospitals and residential schools, most of them without their knowing or consent. As sterilized Indigenous women, our bloodline could not be passed down. Imagine how that impacts a matriarchal society? How that disrupts our Indigenous cultural systems.
Furthermore, when band councils were introduced by the Canadian government, this not only displaced our Sigidimnak’ as leaders, but also our hereditary chiefs lost their power to enforce the traditional laws and ways of being. After hundreds and hundreds of years, women are finally beginning to occupy a seat in these band councils. However, still limited to a ‘man’s’ world and doing ‘business’ as ‘men’ would. The clash between the ‘traditional’ and ‘colonized’ ways continues to plague our people.
It is not surprising the statistics and plight of Indigenous women today. Indigenous women have a shorter life expectancy, are more likely to go missing and be murdered, have their children removed from their care, more vulnerable to sex trade work and homelessness, to be abused in unimaginable ways in their home life, by the system, by RCMP and by government officials.
What I do find surprising in the age of 2024, is that nothing is being done. Seemingly, no one cares. When’s the last time you seen a headline of a missing Indigenous women? Or a murdered Indigenous woman? I am always astounded when an Indigenous woman is found dead, and it doesn’t make the news. A month ago, an Indigenous woman in her mid 30’s was found drowned in the Cowichan River. She left behind 4 beautiful children. She had been in the river so long, she had to have a closed casket. No details of an investigation, or even her death released into our community. Last summer, a young teenage woman was found barely alive, with debris and wooden pallets covering her body, but her cause of death was listed as ‘heat exhaustion’ and deemed unsuspicious. Also, did you know, that despite numerous anonymous tips to the RCMP regarding Robert Pickton, he was finally investigated for having unregistered firearms on his property and that is how he was eventually caught. In fact, one of his victims escaped with stab wounds, the hand cuff still on one of her wrists when brought to the hospital. Robert Pickton was also found at the same hospital with a stab wound with the key to her hand cuff and yet he was released to continue killing women for decades. No charges, no investigation. The list is endless of these horrific tragic stories of injustice. Today, there are over 4000 Indigenous women in Canada that are currently missing and those are only the ones that have been reported.
As individuals, we have the power to begin to decolonize, to educate ourselves about Indigenous history and how its impacted not only Indigenous lives but our society. We can empower Indigenous women by hearing their stories, holding space for their healing, and having empathy for their life circumstances. But most importantly, not judge their life paths as it was not their choice of a life path to begin with.