This is the fourth instalment in a special series prepared by Black Press Media. You can find more of the series and other articles on truth and reconciliation online at or in this weekBԪַs edition of Greater Victoria papers.
Steve SxwithulBԪַtxw spent his 20s trying to find his way.
The Penelakut Tribe member and Kuper Island Indian Residential School survivor said at that age, you really donBԪַt know what youBԪַre doing. BԪַYouBԪַre trying to find your way, break the strings of the past and reliance on your family,BԪַ he said
Today, SxwithulBԪַtxw is 56 and living in VictoriaBԪַs Cook Street Village, having started a family of his own. After more than three decades of confusion with identity and place, he reflects on a career attempting to erase what he calls that BԪַold narrativeBԪַ of trauma and despondence seared into a derogatory perception of B.C.BԪַs Indigenous peoples.
As a police constable, broadcast journalist and TV producer, SxwithulBԪַtxwBԪַs work has centred around community-led and community-based practices that create a fuller picture of different peoples.
Part of that came with SxwithulBԪַtxwBԪַs experience with a BԪַdifferent style of policing.BԪַ It began with a sign BԪַ a job poster looking for security guards while he was unemployed in his 20s. Eight months of training landed him a gig outside an Army and Navy department store in VancouverBԪַs East Hastings, BԪַat the heart of where people have the toughest times in life,BԪַ he said.
He carried that experience with him as he started his own policing service in his home region near Ladysmith and Chemainus after going from a corrections officer at 26 to a police officer at 30.
But while policing on his own Nation on Vancouver Island built transferable skills, SxwithulBԪַtxw said the work was made challenging by a lack of budget, equipment, and personnel and downtime came with the price of feeling woefully unappreciated.
The pressure of it caused SxwithulBԪַtxw to leave the force in 2003, only revisiting it years later in his capacity as a journalist.
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The move in that direction came from another job ad discovered during one of his last police postings. BԪַThey were looking for radio personalities for the community station BԪַ so I signed up and did four hours every Thursday night,BԪַ SxwithulBԪַtxw said. The phone was soon ringing off the hook with song requests for BԪַConstable Steve,BԪַ he said, which encouraged him to pursue courses in broadcast journalism.
SxwithulBԪַtxw learned he had the knack for it in 2007 but while he enjoyed working in front of the camera for major outlets, he didnBԪַt like the direction newsrooms were taking at the time. The regular features on dancing, drumming, drinking or death BԪַ coined the four Ds of stereotypical coverage by Indigenous journalist Duncan McCue BԪַ drove SxwithulBԪַtxw away from mainstream media as they failed to portray a complex history.
Instead, he began a relationship with the Aboriginal Peoples Television Network as an independent producer. One original show, BԪַWarrior Games,BԪַ featured Indigenous athletes across North America and allowed its subjects to reclaim Indigenous identity through cultural sport. But it was BԪַTribal Police FilesBԪַ that brought SxwithulBԪַtxw back to the policing community.
The most surprising element of the series for Canadians, SxwithultBԪַxw said, was the different style of policing. The First Nations police services showcased were community-led and community-based, SxwithulBԪַtxw said, and demonstrated that policing in Canada is only as strong as its community ties.
Considering an upbringing in a colonial system, living within the Indian Act, mediating the intergenerational trauma of residential schools and experiencing racism, SxwithulBԪַtxw said the BԪַrough rideBԪַ endured by North AmericaBԪַs Indigenous peoples needs to be understood if itBԪַs to be addressed BԪַ whether thatBԪַs through the media or policing policies.
BԪַThere has to be some empathy BԪַ and some understanding.BԪַ
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Support for survivors and their families is available. Call the Indian Residential School Survivors Society at 1-800-721-0066, or 1-866-925-4419 for the 24-7 crisis line. The KUU-US Crisis Line Society also offers 24-7 support at 250-723-4050 for adults, 250-723-2040 for youth, or toll free at 1-800-588-8717.
Do you have a story tip? Email: kiernan.green@blackpress.ca.
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