Whitehorse Daily Star

They want to put Daniel away,' leader says

Kaska leader Hammond Dick supports what has become an extremely controversial sentence for former chief Daniel Morris of Watson Lake's Liard First Nation.

By Whitehorse Star on March 17, 2004

Kaska leader Hammond Dick supports what has become an extremely controversial sentence for former chief Daniel Morris of Watson Lake's Liard First Nation.

The chief of the Kaska Tribal Council said Tuesday he does not condone violence. He does not condone Morris' violence against his estranged wife.

He does think it is time, however, for the Kaska Nation to accept the challenge it now faces with the Morris sentence, he said in an interview in Whitehorse.

Up until contact with the European culture 80 years ago, the Kaska managed their own affairs for centuries, for millenniums.

They delivered their discipline swiftly, in a manner acceptable to the leaders of the clans.

It was only after contact that the ways of the past began growing more distant, Dick said.

They continue to be distant, and there are few elders remaining from the days of pre-contact.

If not now, Dick wonders, then when? When will the Kaska step forward and assert their culture in handling cases like Morris'?

The crimes of the former leader are serious, the tribal chief acknowledges. There were serious crimes before there were jails and judges, lawyers and police officers.

'Society today, they want to put Daniel away; he is out of sight, out of mind, and they would be happy with that,' said Dick. 'But what does that do for the community, to his family and the issue of redress for the victim?

'These are questions that society has to talk about and what we are attempting to do is to take a serious look at reviving our way of dealing with these issues in a serious way.'

Morris was convicted last month of beating his estranged wife for two hours after he had come upon her and her boyfriend parked in a wooded area where they had spent the night together in her vehicle, according to evidence before the court.

Morris was armed with a .30-.30 rifle, and was threatening the boyfriend with it until he fled. Shortly after, Dick drove the victim to another isolated area and repeatedly beat her.

At one point, according to the evidence before the court, the victim offered to have sex with Morris to keep him calm. They had sex, and Morris began beating the woman again. He pleaded guilty and was sentenced last month in the Kaska community of Lower Post, just south of Watson Lake.

Sentencing Judge Dennis Schmidt of the B.C. provincial court ordered Morris to serve two years in the community, while the Crown prosecutor sought a jail term of 18 months.

The sentence has ignited a firestorm of criticism from all corners of the territory, from first nation leaders to women's groups, from territorial politicians to the average citizen.

Calls to the Crown for an appeal of the sentence have been loud and clear, and numerous. The appeal deadline is late next week.

Such viciousness, it has been shouted, cannot be dismissed with such a sentence, and is outside the bounds of what is appropriate for alternative measures of justice, regardless of the aboriginal origin of the offender.

Such a violent act demands time behind bars, it's been shouted.

Dick, on the other hand, questions the nothing-but-jail attitude.

It would be easier, he suggested, for Morris to go to jail, eat his three square meals a day and watch television, without ever having to look into the eyes of the community.

But what good, he wonders, would that do?

The judge, said Dick, felt the same way, and his position was evident very early in the sentencing proceedings.

Dick said the judge noted the disproportionate number of aboriginal inmates in Canada and United States, and thought this was a case to look for alternatives rather than add to the statistics.

'Let's look at alternative measures to deal with family violence and violence within the community,' Dick said. 'The judge felt this would be a good opportunity to bring the community together and talk about family violence at the community level.

'There is a lot of violence and a lot of social issues within our Kaska community.'

The tribal chief pointed out Morris must follow the directions of the elders as part of his probation, which could include a potlatch to somehow address his crimes and provide redress to the victim.

Potlatches are ceremonies of giving, where members of the hosting clan present gifts to the guest clan, Dick said.

Morris, he continued, is a member of the Wolf clan and the victim a member of the Crow clan.

Watching TV in jail is one thing; asking fellow clan members to donate money and gifts for a potlatch brought on by your own violence is quite another, Dick suggested.

Admittedly, the tribal chief is not sure how matters will play out in the end and how the Kaska elders will respond to an attempt to bring Kaska culture into the sentencing equation for Morris.

He remains convinced, however, that having Morris serve his time in the community will be more difficult than jail.

And he remains convinced there's a need to push now for a re-assertion of the traditional Kaska ways, or risk having them grow even more and more distant.

Dick was bluntly critical of the Liard Aboriginal Women's Society (LAWS) for its criticism of the sentence and its suggestions jail would be more appropriate in the Morris case.

LAWS, he said, should be supporting the sentence in recognition of the responsibility the court has placed with the Kaska Nation as a part of Morris' sentence.

The organization, after all, receives federal funding to explore avenues and means of promoting healing within first nations, Dick point out.

He said this is such an opportunity, and it should be supported by the women's society.

Morris did go to residential school, just as Dick did, as did most of the older Kaska adults. There are but just a few of the older elders in the Kaska Nation who did not go.

Dick attended all of Morris's court appearances in Lower Post, and spoke on his behalf. He believes residential school was a factor in Morris' behaviour. But so too were other 'interruptions' that have gnawed away at the heart of the aboriginal culture all across North America, he said.

Permitting Morris to remain in the eye of the community, and not be an anonymous inmate in a jail cell somewhere down south provides for greater chances of healing, Dick said.

The Morris case also emphasizes the need for broader, comprehensive healing efforts involving the churches that ran the residential schools, the federal government that paid for them, as well as territorial and provincial governments, he said.

There needs to be that effort to foster healing communally, not just through individual court cases that result in individual settlements, he suggested.

Dick recalled how more than a decade ago he instigated such a process as chief of the Ross River First Nation. It involved community discussions about the effects of residential school, and included representatives from the church.

The church, he said, pulled out of the process once it started realizing the 'enormity' of residential school abuse it was facing.

There needs to be a return to a communal healing process, he insisted.

See letter, p. 11.

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