I come
from a long line of seafaring people. My ancestry is a melding of
diverse cultures from far flung reaches of the globe. My parents, Bill
Esokak Ruben and Bertha (Thrasher) Ruben, are of mixed ancestry. My
father's parents, were Yupik Alaskan from his father's side My mother's
parents were Portugese-African (Senegal) from the Cape Verde Islands on
her father's side and Inupiat Alaskan on her mother's side.
My
great-grandparents on my mother's side of the family were respected and
capable Yupik Alaskan Shamans. Apakark was my great-grand-fathers name.
His specialty was weather medicine, and the gyrfalcon was his spirit
helper. Kagun was my great-grandmother's name. She was equal to her
husband in many ways. Her spirit helper was an underground serpent. They
were both know and respected up and down the coast of Alaska.
In the
latter part of the 1870's, Apakark and Kagun were hired by an American
whaling captain to navigate his ship through the Bering Sea, with a
final destination of Herschel Island, Canada. They were never to return
to the place of their ancestors.
I was born
southeast of Paulatuk in November of 1951 at a winter camp near a coal
mine used by the Catholic missionaries. This was 35 miles southeast of
Paulatuk ("pau" means "coal" or "soot",
Paulatuk means "place of coal"). I was later to learn that
this was also close to the centre of a massive volcanic crater which is
now a major centre for mineral exploration.
During my
formative years we followed a lifestyle not much changed in thousands of
years. We were still living to the ancient rhythms of life passed down
through the generations. The voices of our ancestors and recently
deceased relatives were still a vital part of our daily existence, and
our lives were in tune with the daily rhythms of nature. We still held
to our beliefs in natural and supernatural forces and taboos that kept
our society together.
We were a
small band of 10-15 families, and our yearly travels made for a robust
and highly spiritual nomadic experience. We would cover large expanses
of land and sea, ever in search of migrating caribou, musk-oxen, polar
bear, and beluga whales. In spring and summer we would be busy geese
hunting and char fishing, berry picking and playing.
I owe who
I am today to my mother and father. My father was an exceptional husband
and provider to my mother and family. My mother was a caring and loving
woman and surrogate mother to many others. She was our storyteller and
teacher.
In order
to provide for an ever growing family, my father spent much time away
from home, constantly on the move hunting and trapping. He still had
time to provide us with love and nurturing only a father could give his
offspring. My parents had many trial rearing and providing for us, and
many times food was short. Through it all they managed to give us
children a firm upbringing and a spiritual base to allow us to grow into
adulthood.
My early life, until the age of eight,
was spent in a nomadic lifestyle, with the daily pursuit of food and
shelter a never-ending cycle. These early years provided the foundation
of family-mother, father, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and
other relatives. This background gave me cultural and spiritual ties to
the Inuit way of life and a sense of spirit of place.
This
family-oriented life was severed at the age of eight when I and several
other siblings and cousins were rounded up and sent to the distant
government town of Inuvik to attend residential school, Grollier Hall. I
recall with stark realism and terror, my first day and induction into
what would become a lifetime nightmare. I have many memories of those
years and for the most part they were devoid of love, humanity, and
compassion. Devoid of the guidelines and the true morals and ethics that
make sincere men and women of children. It is little wonder that my
generation and my parents' generation were so physically and
psychologically in need of healing-the spiritual healing that would take
years to manifest itself.
From 1959
to 1970, I was incarcerated along with several hundred other Inuit, Dene,
Metis, and white children. We had been sent to this place due to
pressure from the World Health Organization in New York. In a statement
issued by them the proclaimed: "The native people of Arctic Canada
have been found to be amongst the world's most illiterate people.
Something should be done to set this right and soon".
Acquiescing to pressure from this world
health body, the Government of Canada set about instituting a plan that
had been carried out in Southern Canada in the last century, in
co-operation with the Catholic and Anglican churches.
In essence the plan called for the
selection of a central site, serviceable by road, water or air. Each
site or village selected would have a main residence built, or maybe two
separate residences, as in the case of Inuvik. One was to house the
Catholic element and the other the Anglican groups. The priests, nuns,
and supervisors were mainly of French Canadian ancestry, (Oblate priests
and Grey Nuns).
Their goal
was to eradicate native culture and languages and instill a new and
better set of moral and ethical values. We were deprived of parents, and
all tangible aspects of our culture. The members of church and
government were by and large blindly well meaning in their intent. They
went about their business, and it was business on a grand human scale.
We children and our souls were a tradable human commodity. Many years
would pass before I was able to come to terms with that phase of my
life; before I could reconcile the physical and psychological abuse of
those lost years.
I have one
notable memory of a National Film Board film about Canadian geology, and
I especially remember the ending where the geologist was shown hammering
away on a rock face. I told my teacher I was going to be doing just that
when I became an adult. I was so convinced of what I saw I had to tell
my teacher. Another time I surprised the same teacher with several
animals of papier mache I had done on my own from photos. It's sad to
think that wonderful memories seldom existed within the confines of
Grollier Hall.
After
eleven years, I left school in 1970 not having completed grade 10. In
January 1971 I enrolled at the University of Alaska's Native Art Center
where I tutored under Ron Senungetuk. My studies at the center started
in 1971 and resumed again in 1974-75.
I knew in
1971 that the occupation and life of an artist was meant for me. After
leaving school in 1975, I took it upon myself to continue my formal
education on the road". My acquaintances, be they artists or
craftsmen, became my teachers. I have always kept myself open to any and
all possible avenues of artistic expression in an effort to understand
the subtle nuances and emotions related to the creation and appreciation
of art.
Throughout
the years I have had many teachers and mentors. One individual stands
out as a spiritual guide, friend, and mentor. His name was Fabian
Burbeck,
an adherent to the teachings of Eckankar, the science of soul travel, as
taught by Sri Paul Twitchell, a modern day American prophet and author
of these teachings. I met the Burbecks, Fabian and Lillian, in the
summer of 1977 in Toronto. We became fast friends and through lengthy
talks and formal introduction through lectures and written material, I
was introduced to the spiritual teachings of Eckankar. Fabian and
Lillian Burbeck were individuals whom I entrusted with my most innermost
thoughts and feelings. As I grew to become an artist and sculptor, they
nurtured within me an understanding of the inner spirit. The teachings
of Eckankar came to me without hesitation, as my own Inuit background
spoke of the concepts of the soul (Inua) reincarnation, dreams, spirit
travel, and invisible worlds. As an artist I am compelled to speak of
these changes in my life, as they have influenced me and led me to
further understanding the subtle and underlying nuances of life.
I have
always been of the strong opinion that the creation and appreciation of
art is an entirely cross-cultural and international preoccupation. I
believe that no one group or continental enclave has dominion over the
creative genius of art, contrary to certain opinions held by so-called
leading authorities on Canadian and International art. These individuals
hold the opinion that art was an entirely European creation and further,
that only those of European ancestry could possibly create and aspire to
this noble activity. As an artist, I feel that those opinions do a great
disservice to us all as individuals and to this country as a whole.
The
creative forces that compel us as artists are the results of our
formative years, our training and individual experiences. The
inspiration come from within, married to the artist's technical and
artistic abilities and the medium he or she chooses to convey their
innermost thoughts and feelings. This tangible evidence of the inner
workings of the spirit draws for the artists an empathetic audience; an
audience that appreciates and can relate to the artist's creative
endeavors. These individuals appreciate the works on an aesthetic,
emotional, spiritual, and intellectual level.
I have
chosen to be a story teller for my people, through the medium of
sculpture. Within these images, I attempt to draw from the audience a
range of thoughts, feelings, and emotions stirring within them; these
same thoughts, feelings, and emotions I have wrought into the work. I no
longer speak my mother tongue, yet I need to do my part in carrying on
the stories, cultural myths, and legends and spiritual legacy of our
people. My hope is that my hands and spirit within allow me this one
gesture.
- reprinted from the Winnipeg Art Gallery Catalogue
2001
