I don’t mean to shock anyone, but you do realize that reverse racism is a thing, don’t you? Just because you’re old doesn’t mean you’re wise. Just because you’re black doesn’t mean you’re a good dancer. Just because you’re Asian doesn’t mean you do your homework and just because you’re Latino doesn’t mean you like children. I mean it’s sometimes true, but it’s not a rule. Well it’s time to add a shocking truth to that list:

“Just because you’re indigenous doesn’t mean you know what the hell you’re talking about”.

I know we’re all supposed to bow to our elders and respect ancient wisdom but just because a man is native doesn’t mean he’s not stupid. I mean there must be tribal elders that everyone in the clan disrespects so much that when they walk into the sweat all the other elders just shake their heads and mutter in their native tongue “This fucking guy”. Right?

Allow me to demonstrate my point.

Why the otter is better than the beaver and other Canada Day lessons with Indigenous elder Duke Redbird

If Duke Redbird Redbird, who is a member of the Saugeen First Nation, could make a suggestion this Canada Day weekend, he’d like to pitch you on the otter.

When he gets to Canada’s beaver, he recites a poem he wrote 30 years ago about the animal working all night, transforming a bubbling stream into a putrid pond that the more majestic animals want nothing to do with.

“My child, do not become a beaver and build for yourself a den, this is what modern man does with his brick and stone and sand until his mind is like that stagnant lake filled with weird wicked wretches that get no peace,” Redbird says in quick staccato as he approaches his closer: “Then he cries to his Creator in desperation, please God, my God, deliver me from damnation.”

Redbird would rather have the otter as a national symbol — the “happy-go-lucky” mammal dives “into the unknown” to find small rocks, and then “comes to the surface, puts the tool on its belly, and opens its mussel shells and clam shells,” he says, all the while, “looking in the heavens at the cosmos.”

“That’s my dream for Canada on Canada Day,”

Excuse me for just a moment while I clear my head.

Okay. Let’s start with the putrid stream that the “magnificent animals didn’t want”. You mean like the moose and the salmon? Or the wolf that uses the dam to cross the stream and drinks water from the pond? Or the wood duck? Or that very happy-go lucky otter in question who needs to use the pond the beavers built so he can fish for his dinner like the freeloader he is?

I know exactly what your problem is. You’re confusing “DEN” and “DAM”. You are saying beaver spends all this time to build a DEN that blocks the creek into a trickle because you have zero idea that beavers don’t live in the dam. Because you cannot remember anything your ancestors taught you or remember how much your ancestors relied on the pond to bring wildlife that they could actually hunt and sustain themselves and their families. Also you are basically using this entire metaphor to argue about leaving the waterfront passable so you can live on your houseboat. Okay, I’ll give you that. White people owe you.

But don’t take it out on the beaver.

Apparently even the weather channel wants to pick on beavers for Canada day.

The largest beaver dam on Earth can be seen from space

The proud beaver is a fitting symbol of Canada: A social, industrious creature known for thriving in cold climates by bending their surroundings to their will.

And, for anyone who’s ever had their property flooded by one of their dams, an occasional but blasted nuisance, living in an uneasy truce with the humans who encroach on what was once exclusively the beavers’ forest domain.

When left undisturbed, those dams can get, uh, biggish, so you might wonder what the flat-tailed fabricators can accomplish when there’re no humans within hundreds of kilometres. Fortunately, we have one example of their clandestine works: A beaver dam flooding such a massive territory that it can be seen from space.

If the embed code doesn’t work click here to visit the page and see for yourself.

Amy Gallaher Hall creating chalk art centerpiece in the Park at 12th Annual Martinez Beaver Festival 2019. Photo by Cheryl Reynolds 6/29/19.

I’m starting to get my vocal chords back again. Yesterday Jon returned the Uhaul and unpacked everything. I started finishing touches on silent auction items that hadn’t been claimed and Cheryl sent a beautiful bundle of photos of the day. It’s always both delightful to remember and wonderful to see everything I missed.

Like any advanced society it begins with the artists. And there was plenty of talent to go around on that glorious day.

I just love to see how many kids were inspired by Amy’s artwork to try their own. There were such an army of sidewalk beavers it must be a record! I also love how the artwork, the signs, the activity all pounded the same theme over and over. No one could leave the event that day without knowing a little bit why beavers mattered.

My favorite job of sunday is reviewing the post-tests and seeing how children performed. There were a LOT takers this year, 45 which is our nighest sample size ever. A whopping 95% were entirely accurate so you know things were sinking in. True, there were plenty of helpful parents that gave them the answers but educating parents is kind of the point too, so it’s a win-win. You can see the thinking that went on in some of these photos of the children’s activity.

There are, of course, many more pictures as you well know and much more happened on the day, but I thought that would get you started. Now for a surprisingly timely treat here’s an interview I did last summer with Timothy Sexauer of Muse Ecology which was dropped to a podcast on Friday before the festival. He does such a great job. It’s a surprisingly fresh look at the Martinez Beaver Story. Very well done and worth your time. Enjoy.