A two-spirited commitment
Aug. 6th, 2004 08:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jawnbcTwo-Spirited & Proud [pinched from here]
With his chiselled cheekbones, thick hair and magnificent moustache, he looks like a Métis trapper of old – one who has just stepped out of the bush after a winter spent on the trapline. His Cree/Métis blood flows strong in his features. The reality is, however, that he's more likely to have just stepped out of his living room after having watched Queer As Folk, which he explains gleefully is a gay soap opera with explicit sex.
Richard Jenkins, a 42-year-old from Alberta, formally committed himself to his long-time partner, Pierre, last month. According to my invitation, it wasn't marriage, but a "commitment ceremony" between the men. And not your run-of-the-mill commitment ceremony either, but a traditional Cree ceremony, conducted by an elder instead of a clergy member or justice of the peace. The couple and all the guests wore the usual wedding attire of suits and bright dresses. But eagle feathers were exchanged instead of rings and the elder spoke in Cree, uttering the same pledges that have been spoken for generations. No allowances or changes to Cree legislation had to be made in this case.
"It's a commitment ceremony, it doesn't matter whether it's a man or a woman," explains Jenkins. "It was a very culturally appropriate ceremony for a Cree man." Apparently, it didn't matter if one of the couple wasn't even Cree; in this case, he was a francophone male.
According to Jenkins, aboriginal people traditionally were quite accepting of gay people. In Cree culture, they were called "Whetigokan" (whee-ti-go-i-kwan), and had a definite role in the community and in spiritual ceremonies. Many acted as counsellors, resolving disputes and giving advice to couples. "Who better to counsel you than someone who can see it from both angles?" says Jenkins. There are stories (which are really cultural teachings) from other aboriginal cultures as well. Jenkins says that according to Navajo culture, there was a time when women lived on one side of a lake, and the men lived on the other, and so the Creator sent gay people to integrate them - a tale that reinforces their role as counsellor.
Yet another story has helped gay aboriginal people define themselves. According to the story, there was a child about to be born, but instead of one spirit, two-spirits jumped into his body. (Implicit in this story is that the two spirits were masculine and feminine spirits.) Everybody in the community recognized him as being different – he was two-spirited.
It was this story and a 1990 gathering of elders and aboriginal people in Winnipeg that led to greater usage of the term "two-spirited" to refer to the wide range of aboriginal people who do not fit the heterosexual mould, namely gay, bisexual, transgendered, transsexual and intersexed people. A lot of aboriginal people now call themselves two-spirited, as they believe it better defines their cultural role and significance. There are local and national two-spirit organizations across Canada, with Jenkins being the volunteer executive director of the Two-Spirit Circle of Edmonton. In fact, even non-aboriginal people sometimes prefer to call themselves two-spirited, believing that the term fits better for them too.
Of course, there are a fair number of those who don't accept two-spirited people in aboriginal cultures. Some elders dispute the cultural teachings that recognize two-spirited people. Instead, they regard two-spirited people as "sick and against God," says Jenkins. He chalks such beliefs up to the Christian influence of residential schools, noting that the elder who conducted his commitment ceremony, Leonard Saddleback, did not attend residential schools.
Jenkins himself is willing to admit that the term "two-spirited" is not perfect, as it suggests that a spirit has a gender, when he believes that spirit is sexless. "The only time we need sex or sexual organs is when we're in the body. It's more connected to our physical nature, like I'm physically drawn to other men," he says. In the meantime, he says he's going to continue learning the cultural teachings, and of course, tuning in to Queer As Folk when he gets the chance.
With his chiselled cheekbones, thick hair and magnificent moustache, he looks like a Métis trapper of old – one who has just stepped out of the bush after a winter spent on the trapline. His Cree/Métis blood flows strong in his features. The reality is, however, that he's more likely to have just stepped out of his living room after having watched Queer As Folk, which he explains gleefully is a gay soap opera with explicit sex.
Richard Jenkins, a 42-year-old from Alberta, formally committed himself to his long-time partner, Pierre, last month. According to my invitation, it wasn't marriage, but a "commitment ceremony" between the men. And not your run-of-the-mill commitment ceremony either, but a traditional Cree ceremony, conducted by an elder instead of a clergy member or justice of the peace. The couple and all the guests wore the usual wedding attire of suits and bright dresses. But eagle feathers were exchanged instead of rings and the elder spoke in Cree, uttering the same pledges that have been spoken for generations. No allowances or changes to Cree legislation had to be made in this case.
"It's a commitment ceremony, it doesn't matter whether it's a man or a woman," explains Jenkins. "It was a very culturally appropriate ceremony for a Cree man." Apparently, it didn't matter if one of the couple wasn't even Cree; in this case, he was a francophone male.
According to Jenkins, aboriginal people traditionally were quite accepting of gay people. In Cree culture, they were called "Whetigokan" (whee-ti-go-i-kwan), and had a definite role in the community and in spiritual ceremonies. Many acted as counsellors, resolving disputes and giving advice to couples. "Who better to counsel you than someone who can see it from both angles?" says Jenkins. There are stories (which are really cultural teachings) from other aboriginal cultures as well. Jenkins says that according to Navajo culture, there was a time when women lived on one side of a lake, and the men lived on the other, and so the Creator sent gay people to integrate them - a tale that reinforces their role as counsellor.
Yet another story has helped gay aboriginal people define themselves. According to the story, there was a child about to be born, but instead of one spirit, two-spirits jumped into his body. (Implicit in this story is that the two spirits were masculine and feminine spirits.) Everybody in the community recognized him as being different – he was two-spirited.
It was this story and a 1990 gathering of elders and aboriginal people in Winnipeg that led to greater usage of the term "two-spirited" to refer to the wide range of aboriginal people who do not fit the heterosexual mould, namely gay, bisexual, transgendered, transsexual and intersexed people. A lot of aboriginal people now call themselves two-spirited, as they believe it better defines their cultural role and significance. There are local and national two-spirit organizations across Canada, with Jenkins being the volunteer executive director of the Two-Spirit Circle of Edmonton. In fact, even non-aboriginal people sometimes prefer to call themselves two-spirited, believing that the term fits better for them too.
Of course, there are a fair number of those who don't accept two-spirited people in aboriginal cultures. Some elders dispute the cultural teachings that recognize two-spirited people. Instead, they regard two-spirited people as "sick and against God," says Jenkins. He chalks such beliefs up to the Christian influence of residential schools, noting that the elder who conducted his commitment ceremony, Leonard Saddleback, did not attend residential schools.
Jenkins himself is willing to admit that the term "two-spirited" is not perfect, as it suggests that a spirit has a gender, when he believes that spirit is sexless. "The only time we need sex or sexual organs is when we're in the body. It's more connected to our physical nature, like I'm physically drawn to other men," he says. In the meantime, he says he's going to continue learning the cultural teachings, and of course, tuning in to Queer As Folk when he gets the chance.
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no subject
Date: 2004-08-05 07:38 pm (UTC):-D i agree.
many cultures are accepting of gays. in bali, a girl who worked for me's twin brother was gay. his community accepted him without question. whenever i did a wardrobe clean out, he would be first in line to take away stuff. a lot of the time, he looked better in it than i ever did! :-D
no subject
Date: 2004-08-06 07:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-06 05:55 pm (UTC)