POV: An Indigenous kid in a white community

An Interview with Josh Dueck

Transcript

Erica Fehr: Can you tell me a little bit of your story or tell our audience?

Josh Dueck: Sure, Yep. I'll just tell you who I am right now, and that's probably important so, my name is Josh. I've been married to my wife Helen for not quite 15 years. We have four little ones. They probably won't like to be called little, but they're still little. We live in Kleefeld, Manitoba, and our home church is Steinbach EMC. We've been a member there for, since I was 17 or 18. Okay, yeah, and what was your question?

EF: Your story—you grew up in a white home.

JD: Oh yeah, yeah. Yeah, right, so a lot of people who I meet, especially—well, this happens both ways—when I meet Indigenous people and they then they hear my last name and they always have this “huh? like what?” And when I meet like non-Indigenous people, especially Dutch, Russian and German background people in this area, they say “Well, you're not a Dueck.” And so yeah, I was adopted in 1988 during a particularly harmful period in our nation's history. A time that's called the 60s Scoop which ran from 1960 to 1992. And for reasons of much intergenerational trauma and just brokenness, lots of Indigenous people and communities and families and whole kinship systems—really they never had healthy homes. They never had healthy examples of what it looked like to raise children, and so those effects are directly connected to things like the Indian Act and residential schools and literally hundreds of years of discrimination. Then in 1960 the federal government transferred the responsibility of child welfare and those types of things to the provinces. And so, when the provinces got jurisdiction over this, they had sweeping policy of just—instead of trying to create a system where families would be supported and young moms would be empowered—it was just way easier to adopt kids into white homes. And in many ways, a continuation of long-lasting colonial mindset that it's better for Indigenous people not to be Indigenous. And maybe we can make them like us. So, I was adopted into a home in this area in the 80s. Or 1988 and it was all of my, all the other children there were Indigenous too with the same story. And it was in some ways a broken home also. So, lots of intergenerational trauma even in the home. And it was real, yeah, some real tough times there and so I also lived in foster care too.

EF: For how long was that?

JD: It wasn't that very long time, but I was in grade three when we were separated from my siblings who I lived with my whole life. I actually never saw (most of) them again at that point, and I was the only child to go back home. I don't know—about 10 years later—maybe not quite 10 years later—maybe eight years later—my older sister moved back with us, but quite a disrupting and destabilizing time. And so, I grew up and went to school here in Steinbach, and of course the—I didn't say of course—but the only other Indigenous people were other foster kids and other people in my situation. And it's a little concerning that we just knew that this was normal. We just knew that it was normal to be temporary people in these homes and when other kids came or went or when we were taken or when we went it was actually just normal. Kind of really twisted if you think about it just. And so, yeah I struggled a lot with identity. Like who am I? You know the message that I heard from good people, like Jesus-following people, good people, good intentions, good heart. But the message that I heard constantly was that I should be glad that I've been rescued from being Native. I should be glad that I can be like you. I should be glad that I don't have to be Native anymore. I still hear that message too. In church like I was preaching at an EMC Church recently and someone after said, “Well, Josh aren't you glad that we came and we made the land productive?” And aren't you glad we came and we built all this stuff. Yeah, so I really struggle with who was I? Because this message of you should be thankful that we rescued you at some point. You know, when I became a teenager, I started to connect these dots of well, what was I rescued from? Or who was I rescued from? And so the implication is that I was rescued from my own people and that it’s actually better for me now, and one of the longing of my heart was that my whole life actually I wanted to be Indian—the term we use then. I would read books—well look at pictures in books—and just wish I could be like that. And yet the message that I heard in our—I heard constantly—not just… everywhere in this area was that Indians are garbage.

EF: Not in those words, but that was what was implied.

JD: Sometimes with those words

EF: Seriously?

JD: Yeah yeah, it shouldn’t be too surprising if you think, just think about your own spheres of influence. I'm sure you've heard things about Indians being lazy or drunk or all sorts of things, and so heard that garbage term got quite a bit. And I'm sure that other Indigenous people raised in homes have heard those same things too.

EF: Well, that's a little hard to hear. At what point in your life did you recognize that you were not—that you were different from most the kids in your class or most kids you were hanging out with?

JD: Yeah, I think I knew that almost well, as early as I can remember, going to school. And I also have three—I have two uncles and an aunt who were also taken in the 60s scoop and so there was these older Indigenous people at family gatherings, like, that are the age of my adopted parents, who I would see and just—they were like my heroes—these kind of—these enigmas of how did they become part of this family? But I knew—like I knew I was—it's pretty obvious. It was pretty easy to connect with the other Indigenous students who were also in foster care. So, I knew right away, as far back as I can remember, that I was different. Something strange was afoot.

EF: When did it matter? When did it start to matter?

JD: Right. So, the highlight of my life—well, okay, not my whole life, but— was going to summer camp. Went to summer camp, Gimli Bible Camp and at Gimli, it was predominantly other Indigenous children. And so whenever we go to camp, it was just this great escape. I could be with other people like me and all of us, well, lots of us, had the same exact experiences—we understood each other, and we could relate to each other, and we could just be free. And there was just a longing that I always had, is to be—I wish I could just be who God made me to be—who—I wish I could just be who I was made. And then I would say that my journey of really understanding what it means to be Indigenous only started, actually after I was an adult, and really, I’m just so thankful that Indigenous Christians poured into my life—to disciple and mentor me and show me what it meant, like to celebrate who we are as a people and who God has made us and those are all things that I wished and longed for in high school and junior high. But it, again, if you hear the message that Natives are less than, then it’s not something that you will freely offer up—that is something that you desire to be.

EF: The identity journey is a very tough one.

JD: Right, yeah? Yeah, who am I? Who was I? Where do I belong?

EF: What do you say? I assume that you have opportunities to mentor other Indigenous kids or adults who were raised in white homes. Maybe that's a wrong assumption. But what do you say to somebody like that?

JD: Yeah, I think one of the maybe distinctive differences between—okay, I really think I'm really thankful that God has used and redeemed my life, and I can—I think I can—float well between different cultures. And so, I would say one of the great strengths of Indigenous people is their ability to listen. And so, a lot of people, uh, a lot of people ask this. It's a good question, it’s a fair question, “What do you say? What do you? But actually, the key part is listening. “Tell me your story. Let me listen to your story,” We actually communicate a lot when we listen. It seems kind of, when we think of communication, we think about talking or giving a message. But there's a very powerful way of communicating, and that is by listening, ‘cause when we listen to people's stories, we validate who they are, and we communicate to them that they're worth listening to. And so, when I interact with, and there's a lot of people in this area who are Indigenous, who grew up in homes of Mennonites—and one of the things I always try and do, I try and just to listen to their story. I don't—my experience doesn't—hasn't given me some license to be an authority on this, and so I listen, and have cried with a lot of people, have laughed with a lot of people. Sometimes it's concerning for non-Indigenous people when we laugh about serious things, but it's been used as a coping mechanism for generations and so yeah, listening.

EF: What if? I assume sometimes you talk. What if the question comes up or the challenge that Christianity is associated with being white?

JD: Right? Yeah, I, yeah, so I, like I have family who are Indigenous. There's, I come from quite—I was adopted into quite a unique family. There are dozens and dozens—there's probably more Indigenous Duecks in our family than there are non-Indigenous Duecks. There's at least three generations now, quite a significant amount, and so there's a great number of my family who have really definitely been intentional about breaking off all connections to white religion that they've because of their experience with the exact same experience as mine—interacting in this culture, especially in Steinbach, that is Christian and then yet, hearing the message the whole time, that actually we're not valuable or we're “less than” people. And so, I never try, I never like, correct people, but what they feel towards the Christian religion. I mean, what I what I personally try and do is I try, I acknowledge that I follow Jesus. I love Jesus, and I unpack a little bit, you know. It's really quite amazing that God becomes flesh and identifies with people. That God becomes flesh and identifies not just with any people, he identifies with this, this oppressed nation, who is occupied by a foreign power, who's persistently discriminated against. And he goes to those people, and he becomes part of them. And it's really neat I think when we look at it and when they explore with people that you know the life of Jesus—who Jesus was, where he was born and how he lived. It he lived in a people that was very similar to this Indigenous people and like here, oppressed by government and small and underprivileged. All these types of things. Those are the people that the one true God came to identify with. And I think the more that we can look accurately at the origins of our belief, in the incarnation and God becoming flesh, and the less we see that, or the more that we can accurately see what it means to follow Jesus. And I think you know, Jesus says that the world will know who my followers are by their love for each other. So, when the first people bearing the name of Christ came here, that wasn't good news for our people. It was weaponized, and it came in great condemnation and fear, and the people attempted to remake these image-bearers into their own image, and they did horrible, horrible things, not loving things, and so I agree with the people who tell me that you know the Christian religion has done awful things. They're terrible, terrible hurtful things. And yeah, it's true, and yet I think a lot of those people, Jesus would say the same thing about that: “Actually those, some of, lots of those people weren't actually my people they didn’t act like me, they didn't obey me, they didn't look like me, they didn't imitate me, and they certainly didn't follow my commands.” And so, I think the more that we can identify what was Christian religion and what was following Jesus, I think. Well, that's what I try and do with as I walk with people in relationships.

EF: So, what made you different that you chose to follow Jesus?

JD: Yeah, so I talked about all my experience at camp. So camp is just the life-giving for me. Everything about camp was life-giving. And there was something about the people who worked at camp. It didn't matter that all of us, well, not all of us, but lots of us were just broken kids, they just loved us for who we were. They never told us those horrible things or communicated in indirect ways that we were like “less thans”. And then when I was in junior high, a friend invited me to youth at the Steinbach EMC and so I went with him. And the first time I went, there was a youth retreat. Youth pastors like “hey, do you know? “Do your parents know you're coming on this retreat?” and like “Oh yeah, they yeah they do.” “Okay, alright get on the bus.” It was much simpler times, I think. But, what I experienced at that youth group from those leaders was the same thing I experienced at summer camp and so I kept going back week after week after week. Even though I didn't have any friends there, and even though my friend who actually invited me, stopped going, I just kept going because there was something in the leaders there that was so attractive and so good.

And in high school I got into quite a bit of trouble and I was, uh, yeah I had stolen some things and quite—you know when you're in high school, it feels like those types of mistakes were just like are the end of your life. And so, I was thinking I should—one way to deal with the situation I was in was just to run away—just to leave. And so, the youth group was going to Mexico, and I thought, well, that's a great opportunity to leave. And I've been working with young people and youth now like my whole life, and it's just a nightmare to think about what would have happened if I would have done that. It's just an absolute nightmare. And so, I'm so thankful that God was pursuing me long before I was pursuing him. So, I signed up to go on this trip, and part of the requirement was that I needed to start attending church. So, I started attending church just so I could check that box off. And what I discovered was that oh, what those people at camp had and what those youth leaders had, there's so many people here that have it. There's something different about them. They are really kind, and compassionate and loving. And I think this is key—they never pitied me. We receive so much pity from so many well-meaning people. But that's something that I never experienced from those people at camp or youth or at the church. I didn't receive pity. I received love, grace and people interested in my life. And so, I ended up going on that trip to Mexico. And I am glad that my plans were foiled. But being in such an intense environment for such long periods of time, being so close, I found myself, I didn't want to leave. There is something so life-giving again about the leaders who were there. And it just felt like belonging, something I never felt anywhere else was belonging. And so, after coming back, I kept going to church because of the sense of belonging. After I graduated, I kept going, so I sometimes joke that you know I didn't grow up in the church. I didn't grow up in this church. And yet, in a much more kind of. profound way, I did grow up in this church, because this is where I found Jesus. This is where I found him in and through his people. And near the end of high school I realized that that's something that I want too. So that's our home church now.

EF: I know that you don't really like to talk about the adoption question, but it is one of the ones that, or I'm assuming, I'm gathering from you, that that's not something you really want to talk about. But it is one of the things that started this issue, or one of the reasons we're addressing it in a way is because. adopting cross-culturally is still happening. And because there's been some calls for an apology from the white from the church for the fact that white homes adopted Indigenous kids. So, I guess, if you did have a chance to coach a family that had adopted cross-culturally, is there anything specific you would want them to know?

JD: Yeah, well I won't answer some of your stuff, but I would say that yeah, I would just really encourage them to love their kids—celebrate their ethnic background. You know, really let them know that they're not, they're not like second place to your own kids. I've heard so many times. I've been with people so many times who say that this is our son or whatever, and then then they'll add, and these are our foster kids. It's like, “Oh, what are you saying?” You're saying? You're there's something in there, even if you're not intentional. But those ones are, those ones aren't as valuable. Those ones are extra, those ones don't belong here. I've heard that. For I've heard that hundreds of times, and I still hear it. UM? Yeah, I would say those types of things. Those are the types of things that really sink into your into your mind. Why like, what wait? What is? What do they mean by that? Why am I different or why? So yeah, love, love them, celebrate who they are—who God has made them to be. You know they were an image bearer of God before you adopted them or before they came to your home, and so celebrate that image. I would also encourage, I would really encourage families that are like this to, or in this situation to find Christian Indigenous people so there can be positive and good examples in their sphere of influence of Indigenous people who are following Jesus and who can be people that kids will look up to. Yes, so much. When I grew up Indigenous people, native people, or Indians back then, were only talked about in super negative light all the time. And so, if there can be, if families can make connections with Christian Indigenous people so that there can be positive presence for those people that for those kids that they can see that, “Oh, this is not something to be ashamed of, this is see who God made me yeah yeah.

EF: Thank you, Josh. You've given us an awful lot to think about and thank you for answering some uncomfortable questions. And for being very, I think, very honest with us so thank you again.

JD: Again, yeah, yeah, thanks for hearing my uncomfortable responses.