“Wopida Mitakuye Oyasin” WORLDVIEW

 Hello, for those of you who are new here, my name is Marina Crane and today I’ll be drawing on stories from my life about government involvement and mental health resources in relation to Nathan Chasing Horse. I’d like to begin by offering a trigger warning for survivors of residential school and the survivors of Nathan Chasing Horse, this content might include graphic references to topics such as sexual abuse, self-harm, and violence and may be traumatizing or re-traumatizing for some listeners. I’d also like to preface this and say that all the names throughout have been changed for the privacy and confidentiality of those involved. If you are impacted by this content, please reach out to your personal support group (family and friends) or any local support groups that can help you process your thoughts and emotions. You are not alone, and you are cared for. 

With that being said, let us begin. 

 I’m so grateful for my community and the network of people I’ve built up over my lifetime. As my cousin, my brother says to me. “Our traditional Indigenous communities take care of themselves.” Throughout these decades this community has taken care of itself. 

My goal for this blog is that I hope other First Nation communities, Urban Centers and Indigenous Peoples can learn from the experience my community has gone through. While listening please take this time to be reflective, most of the people I will speak of were children when I started this blog. Reflect on them evolving, helping their community, knowing what they know about systemic racism and the thousands of unmarked graves of our ancestors. Our communities are living breathing organisms evolving through the prayers of our ancestors and our own.  Making good relatives is extending one’s compassion for each other. 

My cousin, my friend, and my sister said to me: ‘I hope you are feeling better tonight, maybe we can go out for a drive tomorrow or do something because you are always stuck inside. It isn’t good for anyone to talk to those ‘white trashy people’ who only go to you and help so that they may be noticed and get a pat on the back for helping someone “in need”, without caring about your needs or feelings after that one good deed is done.’  When she says ‘white trashy people’ she is referring to Annabel (first), Jared (second) & Lisa (third)) who were all psychotherapists.

You might be wondering why I mentioned this story. For decades therapists (both Indigenous & non-Indigenous) report back to Canada’s non-insured health benefits program. The government knew about the mental health crisis of Indigenous youth. One would think the government would take all this money spent paying therapists, over the decades to build a mental health center for Indigenous children & teens led by Indigenous Peoples based on our ways of knowing. 

Over ten teenage girls needed help seventeen years ago. Their moms were so desperate for solutions. Then, Nathan comes into our community selling his ‘snake oil’, full of promises and dreams. Imagine if you can, the hope, they (the moms, and their daughters) felt once they came out of those ‘ceremonies.’ Some of our Indigenous men immediately wanted what Nathan had. As a result, nobody questioned his credentials because everyone wanted something from him. Understand this, non-insured health benefits also pay traditional healers like Nathan. If he were Canadian, they would have paid him for his services.

This was all happening at a time when Indian residential school survivors were disclosing their traumatic childhood experiences with Truth & Reconciliation adjudicators. Survivors did not trust white therapists or any white-run institution. As Indigenous workers gathered survivors, they also created a list of first nation medicine people. A lot of these healers had community support, and protection while also having histories of violating Indigenous girls & women. Through the creation of this list, many traditional healers were caught sexually interfering with children, although this was not its primary purpose. First Nation communities knew the government was paying traditional healers. They knew where they could report any abuse, so why was it and is it so underreported? 

Today, there are improvements; however, there is still no financial obligation towards establishing a healing center for Indigenous children and Indigenous teenagers. The government’s solution is to continue apprehending them and placing them into a foster care system as they did for many Indigenous youth. Decades ago, prior to my uncle’s death, he told me, “The government created these problems, now lets them solve them!” Intergenerational trauma is the symptom of incarcerating babies and children into Indian residential schools to assimilate and ‘kill the Indian’ in us by any means necessary. My grandmother was not raised by her parents, nor were my parents. I write this knowing the legacy I leave behind. I am the first generation raised by both parents, raised by my grandparents, aunties, and uncles. As my cousin said our traditional Indigenous communities take care of themselves.

Let’s go back to Annabel, Jared, and Lisa for a moment, each of them was paid for decades counseling survivors in their private practices. Lisa sat witnessing over 350 stories during the adjudication process for Indian residential school survivors and applied for grants using their credentials as a psychotherapist with Indigenous knowledge skills. Jared participated in ‘pipe ceremonies’ a spiritual practice his white friend conducted. He also attended ceremonial sweats amongst the Blackfeet of the Treaty Seven area and disclosed confidential details about a former high-profile Indigenous Tsuu Tina client. Jared like many mental health care practitioners used his connection to Indigenous ways of knowing for his own personal gain. Annabel is just as guilty of similar cultural appropriation. 

What sickened me the most about Annabel was that she was my late sister-in-law’s psychotherapist, assisting her in getting her daughter Chelsea out of the foster care system in Vancouver. Annabel was the first person I confided in moments after Chelsea told me Nathan had sex with her. I went to her hoping she would be there for me once I called the police. Instead, she wanted to hear Nathan’s side of the story. She spent an hour talking with Nathan. Finally concluding Nathan was in a child’s sexual fantasy. When I reflect, it still makes me angry. She was more concerned about learning cultural practices from Nathan. Culturally appropriating what she could use as a psychotherapist gaining more cultural competency at Chelsea’s expense. 

This is what angers me about these three individuals. This is what my cousin refers to as ‘white trashy people.’ Hurting my niece rather than seeing Nathan for what he was and is, they wanted to be a part of this ‘spiritual phenomenon,’ around Nathan. They saw how happy people were. They wanted the benefits of what Nathan had. This need to become an Indigenized mental health professional was rapidly becoming a big money maker. Later in the same year, Annabel counseled a second victim of Nathan’s. This child came to her after Chelsea revealed what had happened to her, Annabel didn’t believe either of us or thought Chelsea was lying to get attention. I wonder if she finally believes me about Nathan now.  After talking to Lisa in a therapeutic setting about my sister’s health, she started gaslighting, manipulating, and leading me to second-guess everything, even as basic as scheduling issues. She did everything not to lose me as a client, but she did and has. There are so many stories like mine across Turtle Island. 

There was an investigative journalist, we will call him Cody. He said there was one Indigenous mental health practitioner who used Nathan in their clinic and was a devoted follower of Nathan’s until two years ago. Cody said he did not mention this person in his article. While there are ‘White trashy people’ there are also ‘red trashy people,’ who are still loyal to Nathan. To the investigative journalists, thank you again, I take you both as genuine allies and not ‘white trashy people’. With support from people like you who are a part of my network, I finally feel heard and seen. I have shared what I have gone through with my network that stems across the globe. I am not alone or lonely. There are so many human beings who love me. I struggle. I reach out. I survive and continue trying to be happy & healthy. I am still amazed that Nathan’s first arrest in January triggered in me all these raw and visceral emotions. Emotions that surface each time an Indigenous woman reached out to me for support and guidance. Many of these emotions I knowingly and unknowingly carried with me over the past seventeen years.

 

 The following is my personal reflection after being interviewed.

I never thought it would impact the decisions I’ve made for my personal life moving forward. I had this epiphany. I got so upset! It is a sad reality. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before, as I’ve had long discussions with mental health workers, not all in a therapeutic community, but rather as acquaintances. As you are reading this, I'd like you to understand what I’ve gone through these past couple of months since the arrest of Nathan Chasing Horse. It's a bit of a phenomena or an existential crisis of sorts. For some historical reasoning that I kept as a ‘self-defeating thought,’ feeding it endlessly it seemed. I doubted myself. I doubted my words. I doubted my work in the sense of seeing work as being physical rather than mental. I was documenting within this blog. Through the decades, I even doubted whether my purpose in writing had reached anybody. Sometimes, I asked other Indigenous women whether this blog had reached anyone and was surprised to hear that these stories were being read by young Indigenous girls who had their own epiphany. Disclosing to their mom that Nathan sexually abused them. I thought about stopping many times, and if not for the encouragement of other Indigenous women, I would have. Here the existential crisis for me was finally seeing what I did not see or simply did not want to see what others saw in me.

 

For a moment let us imagine a Swan; They are born ugly delicate creatures, completely dependent on their mother for survival. It would appear there to be nothing beautiful about these birds, so kill them, eat them, then they are gone; however, nurture them, love them, appreciate them and they will flourish into beautiful, majestic creatures. The existential crisis is this creature. We are all creatures, at some point, we were all little Rugrats, who after a heavy rainfall swam in pools of dirty water the storm left behind, but we move forward, fighting and healing from our childhood trauma with the love, appreciation, and nurturance from our caretakers and peers. 

 

Now let’s briefly discuss my psychological history, to put my existential crisis into perspective for you, my listeners. I’ve studied psychology. I worked with high-risk teenage girls, in the United States. By this I mean they had attempted suicide so many times that they were ordered by the courts or voluntarily admitted into protective care. Previously, I worked seasonally as a youth counselor in northern communities of Alberta, Canada. My work took me deep within myself, as most of my client’s experiences were like my own childhood trauma. I was in my youth and didn’t know what inter-generational trauma was or the extent of abuse my grandparents, parents & my siblings went through in Indian Residential Schools. I just knew from the psychology courses I took that I needed to see a therapist. So, throughout most of my life, I’ve been co-dependent on therapists or mental health workers as my guardian angels, spirit guides, gurus, and confidants. Yes, I said co-dependent because I allowed them to enable me and use me in ways I didn’t see yet.

I don’t know why I didn’t feel I had the confidence. Maybe, I was too naïve about my own empowerment of lived experiences. In these past few months, I’ve received a huge amount of attention. I mean huge. Now I see it was mostly, a lack of trust for people in positions of power, white supremacy power, or better yet a lack of understanding of what spiritual activism meant within the ideology of white supremacy. I was too busy overthinking things and not allowing myself to step back to see the bigger picture. 

A little more background of my relationship with mental health workers throughout the past decades to give you a clear understanding of how I've come to this point in my life. Whether or not these acquaintances want to acknowledge their actions toward me is irrelevant because I know who I am and my truth.

There are three non-Indigenous individuals who played a major part in the past 20-30 years; two were acquaintances and one was my therapist. Susan (Acquaintance one), originally practiced within the City of Vancouver until moving into Tsuu Tina, my home community. She was in a relationship with a family member. She had a previous relationship as a therapist with my late sister-in-law. Their relationship was close enough that she helped find my sister-in-law’s daughter, Chelsea. She reported the sexual abuse Chelsea experienced in the various foster homes and had lived in since she was two years old. It’s important to understand the amount of information Susan had on Chelsea as it plays into her judging her disclosures. 

Jared, a person of interest as he was a forensic psychologist, claimed to have a deep understanding of Indigenous culture within the Treaty Seven area. Decades prior, I had been searching for a psychologist who had some Indigenous mental health practice or knowledge. We were acquaintances when I introduced him to Annabel. He supervised her so she could practice in Alberta, and they eventually shared office space. I came to the realization that I had an immense amount of trust in him, and only now can I see who he truly became and notice the insidiousness of his wanting to reap the benefits of my work within this blog. 

Discussing Nathan Chasing Horse meant reflecting on decades of triggering work. I really didn't see what others were seeing in me until I received attention across the globe. It’s taken me months and weeks to deconstruct previous conversations with the interviews I’ve given. I googled the people who interviewed me from when I lived in the United States and since moving back home all these decades. I get most of my news from social media platforms; however, it’s not the newsworthy attention I received, and no doubt will continue to receive. It’s the reaction from these mental health professionals that astonished me. It angers and upsets me. 

Lisa is my therapist. When I discuss my existential crisis with women, they tell me to find an Indigenous mental health worker. I say, “I am done!” I repeat myself to them about the decades of mental health work I’ve done for myself. As it’s one thing to look at Nathan Chasing Horse as the fake role of a healer, but there are professional mental health workers both Indigenous and non-Indigenous who supported Nathan. This is also disgusting; At what point do we, as Indigenous people start decolonizing ourselves?

 

It’s upsetting that for 17 years or more Nathan did have access to mental health workers here in Tsuu Tina, and not just here but in various First Nation communities. All those years of being interviewed and seen by people who were classically trained to spot the manipulation he had mastered; all those years no one saw who he really is and if they did, they covered it up to benefit themselves directly or indirectly. All those years his victims were silenced by non-believers, by him, and by people who supposedly had jobs meant to protect the vulnerable. So, I will not apologize for being weary of mental health care practitioners, Indigenous or not. 

Call it what you want.  It’s just upsetting that when people are put in positions of power or positions of authority over, very vulnerable people living with inter-generational trauma. They presumably have the best interest and compassion for others. So why didn’t they help stop this monster? Why did they support him? Why did they not report him to the police or why didn’t they form some sort of support group of his victims? Why didn’t they help them? The moms decades ago wanted help and I volunteered. Fundraising by cooking tacos, selling raffles, and financial help was given; however, leadership wanted it for their own and the moms and daughters were forgotten. Why couldn’t mental health practitioners do more? It’s upsetting to know that within our Indigenous communities, we encourage our young people to get an education, and then what happens? We put so much trust in them, that they have our best interest at heart, and they get mesmerized, hypnotized, eroticize, and mythologized in the ambiance of traditional spirituality. Nathan represented what they believe to be traditional. Yet is he no different than the mental health practitioners we empower with our trust and undying devotion?

 

Annabel diagnosed Chelsea as being delusional and addicted to the fame of Nathan. The limerence of unsolved childhood trauma. Yet, I went to this therapist a well-known friend of Chelsea’s late mom. I wanted her to be there as I called our tribal police, instead, she wanted to talk to Nathan. She didn’t want the police involved.  A monster we helped create was roaming around in First Nations communities. The amount of people that he’s hurt is phenomenal and the amount of people who supposedly had the best interest of Indigenous communities did nothing. Nathan had gone to places in various communities saying he was a youth worker. I wanted references from those that had worked closely with him, and I couldn’t get any. It’s frustrating that even today, knowing there were mental health workers who worked alongside him and didn’t notice anything.  I don’t know why that is, I can’t comprehend why they would not do something. 

They cannot use the excuse that they didn’t understand he was a predator. These are people who worked with children who’ve been abused, who were using a Nathan Chasing Horse as a mentor even after years of people saying he was a danger to children. They still didn’t respond. They still didn’t believe it. Anybody who hired this man who was collecting a salary, wage, or benefits needed to do hard emotional work on themselves. In Tsuu Tina, we had mental health workers that were attending Nathan’s ceremonies.  They were mental health workers that could’ve applied for grants or programs to help these young girls and their moms. 

There continues to be a mental health crisis for Indigenous girls and women, then, and more so now. This monster hurt so many people in so many communities in Canada & the United States. Why aren’t there people in our communities putting proposals together to help our communities heal from intergenerational trauma? Who is training these non-Indigenous mental health workers in our cultural customs and practices? Who’s regulating them? Who’s holding these professionals accountable?

I am grieving over my lived experiences while writing this blog and I am becoming self-aware of my own inner strengths, and my own seriousness.  I cannot ever repay all those who interviewed me. It wasn’t like being interviewed for a job, nor was it obtrusive, these few months and weeks were amazing. Now I see that the mental health workers and professionals throughout my life were wanting to benefit by digging into my lived experience vicariously or by wanting to be interviewed alongside me. I see them now. It’s brought me to this point of self-actualization. There came a point when I stopped depending on a colonial mindset or a construct within our own Matrix. I stopped and saw people whom I’ve held in high esteem as being human beings and not God-like or mystic creatures who have access to magical wands that heal all our traumatic stories. We are mentally well, and we will continue to empower ourselves and others in our spiritual activism fighting and healing from white supremacy. An ideology that I was born into, and an ideology where white was right. I’ve had enough, I’ve had enough of being used and diagnosed as an Indigenous woman who’s had childhood trauma.

 

I’ve studied psychology. I’ve done the work. I’ve done the work for decades and yet in my elder years, I’m amazed at the fact that I just didn’t get it.  We, as Indigenous peoples of the world can empower our own Indigenous people. I feel confident enough about our own mental health.  I’m not alone I don’t believe I’m alone I truly believe that there are a lot of Indigenous people who do understand, As Indigenous women it’s up to us to stand together and heal together and protect our children together. We are the only ones who can do it. Our mothers have suffered our grandmothers suffered. It’s only we Indigenous women who can say enough is enough. Our children are suffering, and we need to help them in whatever way we can. 

I truly believe we’re doing that, but I just need to make sure that people understand, non-Indigenous people too. Nathan Chasing Horse, a monster, got away with so much for so many years. Within our communities, we approved mental health workers, social workers, counselors, and people in positions of power, whom we empowered to protect us. They did not do their jobs. 

 

We must take our power back, and we must empower one another. For some, it’s going to take a while it’s going to be a journey for all of us. For some, you may be at the beginning of your healing, and you may wonder why you didn’t start earlier and that is fine. Don’t be too hard on yourself.  For others, you may be at the end of your journey. For me, I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of mental health workers. Continually going to school wanting to get a degree, get the degree, then get another degree and another and another. It’s like an addiction to mental health practitioners, social workers, or addiction counselors some were even addicted to Nathan Chasing Horse.  At what point do we stop and say enough is enough? Bless my poor Aunt’s heart, I’d hear her say “Enough is enough!’ I didn’t understand it then. Today I’d say to my Aunty, “I understand it now! Forgive me!” The Epiphany, “Oh my goodness! Why didn’t I see this?” 

 

The irony of all this is that if I had not received attention from international & national news media. I would not have experienced this epiphany. Since I was raised in a very political family. My parents received international attention alongside my extended family like my dear misunderstood Aunty. It wasn’t anything I ever wanted as I grew up seeing the lateral violence my family experienced in both worlds. I felt they were used to promote white supremacy, as they traveled around the world twice. Once when I was eight years old and then again when I was ten, I judged them and never wanted anything to do with politics or community activism. Yet, I found myself being dragged into interviews over a topic I am passionate about documenting. 

What started this revelation of mine was when I consulted with Jared, then saw his interference and him trying to benefit and seek success off my blog, claiming as he’s claimed for decades his cultural awareness. It took him to see me as a “success,” like he was finally humanizing me, an Indigenous woman, with a degree of education to be seen as his equal and yet not his equal. A man who for decades applied for grants to help Indigenous youth. A man who had many opportunities, along with his colleague, a colleague I introduce him to and with whom he shared office space. The same colleague that diagnosed Chelsea as delusional and suffering from limerence rather than contacting tribal or city police. 

It’s not just them, however, even my own therapist within these past couple of weeks systematically reached out to me more than three times and tried to reschedule a fourth session. Never in all the years, I’ve participated in therapy sessions with her has she ever done this to me. 

These people knew I kept myself anonymous. Now, I reveal myself. I am a professional communicator, knowledge keeper, Indian residential school survivor, day school survivor, and elder. I’ve put my Indigenous female identity out there. Expressing that I am not a candy apple, nor a rotten apple or poison apple, I am the real Macintosh Apple. After all, humor does make light a serious breach of trust. 

I commend those two professional non-Indigenous men with abilities of investigative reporting for interviewing me.  The first man worked for an international newspaper then, and the second interview was for a national TV.  Both non-Indigenous men want to make sure all Indigenous voices are being represented, they’re both experts in their respective fields. This doesn't mean they specialized in Indigenous history, nor do they understand the concept of “lived experience” from an Indigenous way of viewing the world. For me, hearing praises of admiration for the work I am doing, felt good. I asked my sister, when are we as Indigenous women ever going to be heard and she told me, “When someone tells you they admire the work you’re doing. How do you tell them it’s a lot of hard work, a lot of hard truths, but he knows cause it human nature to want what someone has or has accomplished”.

They may not understand my gratitude and the honor they bestowed on me, but in doing so they honored my parents, my grandparents, and all my relatives.

 

Of course, I am going to be upset. Especially when there’s so much intergenerational trauma from our childhoods. It’s upsetting to know the people who benefit and continue to benefit from these traumas. Despite my current view, I am not trying to convince anyone not to seek therapy. I am just exhausted by this colonial mindset of white supremacy. Seeking and expropriating Indigenous ways of knowing and culturally appropriating the spiritual practices of Indigenous peoples. I’m also tired of the gaslighting of educated Indigenous people as not having enough to be considered their equal through their colonial lens.  We have it inside ourselves to fight and heal.

 

“Wopida Mitakuye Oyasin” WE ARE ALL RELATED…We are all responsible for becoming good relatives to all Creator’s creations.