Nothing smells worse than the stench of hypocrisy, the reek of stolen identity, and the acrid tang of lip service masquerading as reconciliation. And it’s wafting out of Ottawa, thick enough to choke all of us.
I've spent years working with First Nations communities, witnessing firsthand the wounds of the residential schools, the '60s Scoop, and the systematic dismantling of their economies. I've seen the gaping chasm between the promises whispered by politicians and the brutal reality on the ground. And now? Now, I'm watching yet another layer of betrayal unfold before my eyes.
This isn’t about a government contract. It's about something much, much more profound. It's about the casual, almost breathtaking audacity of a Liberal government minister claiming First Nation status, not for genuine connection, but as a stepping stone to power and a key to unlocking economic opportunities meant for those whose heritage he feigns.
Some people call it "not a big deal." These people, I suspect, haven't spent their lives navigating the labyrinthine bureaucracy designed to keep Indigenous communities perpetually disadvantaged, such as the Indian Act. They haven’t felt the sting of broken promises or the crushing weight of systemic injustice. To them, it’s just another scandal, another headline to skim before moving on to the next distraction.
But for me? This hits differently. This is like watching someone steal your grandmother's shawl, then wear it to a powwow, grinning as they collect the accolades meant for the rightful owner. This is about cultural appropriation on a scale that makes me want to puke.
And don't even get me started on Justin Trudeau. The man who poses for photos with Indigenous elders, who offers eloquent pronouncements on reconciliation, yet somehow finds the time to surf while a solemn memorial service takes place in Kamloops? The hypocrisy is so thick you can cut it with a knife. It is a slap in the face to everyone who’s fought for justice, for respect, for the dignity of a people systematically marginalized for centuries.
Then there’s Randy Boissonnault, the Employment Minister at the centre of all of this, who finally apologized for not being clear about his Indigenous identity. I’m a "non-status adopted Cree," he says, and his great-grandmother was a "full-blooded Cree woman." All false and convenient, like a carefully constructed narrative designed to fit the political landscape.
Boissonnault apologized, saying, “I wasn't as clear as I could have been...” He wasn’t clear? Call bull, bull. He was out and out lying and got caught with his pants down around his ankles. Now, he dares to suggest he is an ally that represents many Indigenous people in his community. It would be interesting to ask the 780 Indigenous residents of his community how well he represents them.
He does not, in my view, represent any Indigenous people. If he did, he would not treat them with the utmost disrespect and not attempt to rip the shallow economic opportunities the government affords the First Nations, continuing the history of stealing from them.
The National Post reported a company co-owned by Boissonnault bid on federal contracts in 2020 while identifying as Indigenous and Aboriginal-owned. Are we surprised? Does anyone honestly believe this is an isolated incident?
This isn’t about a few bad apples. This is a rotten orchard. This is the systemic rot that permeates the Canadian political landscape, a rot that allows for the blatant disregard of Indigenous rights, the casual theft of cultural identity, and the cynical manipulation of reconciliation for political and economic gain.
This isn't about a contract. It’s about the ongoing colonization of minds and spirits. It's about the persistent, insidious denial of the genuine trauma inflicted upon First Nations communities. It's about a government that talks a big game but delivers only crumbs, a government that uses Indigenous issues as a political football while ignoring the deep, systemic problems that demand immediate attention.
I’ve seen enough. I’ve witnessed the broken promises, the empty gestures, and the hollow words that echo through generations. We need more than apologies; we need meaningful reconciliation and systemic change. Until that happens, the stench of this hypocrisy will continue to linger, a haunting reminder of Canada's unfinished business. We must demand better, fight harder, and never let them forget.
Mr. Boissonnault, there is only one way to describe you.
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