Meet the Elders of the Athabasca Denesuline Education Authority

It’s important work for Elder Billy Joe Mercredi from Stony Rapids, SK where he says there are hardly any elders left.

“They’re all passed on and its sad because speaking to people in my community, they don’t respect us as an elder. The reason why is because they never seen what its like to live up in the trap lands or anything like that. It’s sad to see our young people never going on the lake and setting a net,” he said.

Mercredi was born Dec. 22, 1948 and is a member of Black Lake First Nation. His father, Boniface worked for the Hudson’s Bay Company buying fur. As a kid, Mercredi would join his father hunting and fishing or holding a lantern to light the trails as they set up snares. He fondly remembers waiting for his father to return home from work one winter night. At the time, Boniface used an old, motorized toboggan called a Bosak to travel. Mercredi and his family could hear his father approaching their home, but the machine wasn’t slowing down.

“I guess there was no break and boy he drove right into the house,” Mercredi laughed. “By the side of the stove you could see two little skis sitting inside the wall there. We couldn’t stop laughing.”

Another time, while hunting with his father, Mercredi had no tent or blanket, so his father taught him how to skin a caribou. He washed the hide in the river and then dried it by the fire while Mercredi collected willows to make little picks to hold the hides together.

“At night when we laid down, I couldn’t sleep at all…it was so hot in there. Unbelievable, “he laughed.

While he’s thankful for the moments that brought a smile to his face, there are parts of his childhood that he’d rather forget. Mercredi and his brother attended school in Stony Rapids during the 1950s. He recalled a time when a teacher took a seven-pound dictionary and hit his older brother with it on the top of his head.

“He was never the same after that. He never opened his eye again. A few months ago, I went to visit him in North Battleford where he is and he can’t even talk. He lost his memory and everything from the day when he got hit.”

Years after the incident, Mercredi said he and his siblings thought about suing the school division, but his mother reminded them it still wouldn’t change what happened to her son.

“For me, I’m really proud of who I am…how I grew up. Not just me but the rest of my brothers…I’m proud of who we are. There was 16 of us in the family and we all listened to our parents who taught us love and forgiveness. Nowadays, kids don’t listen. They’re all addicted to games, watching TV. They don’t talk. They don’t listen and they don’t even know how to fish or they don’t eat caribou meat. They’re living on junk.”

Its why Mercredi takes his role as an elder for the Athabasca Denesuline Education Authority so seriously.

“I come here to look forward for the future of these kids. Kids have everything now – arena, baseball diamond. If there is bullying – that comes from the parents. The parents are the ones that have to teach ‘no’ and ‘don’t’ and they aren’t doing that. I want to see them all watch and listen. When an elder came and visited us at the house growing up, I sat with them and listened. Its not like that anymore.”

Elder William ‘Billy’ Adam

Billy Adam, 66, was raised on the trapline in Fond Du Lac. He had 19 brothers and sisters and remembers running along the shoreline, playing with toboggans, and building model airplanes.

Adam quit school after Grade 10 and says it’s a decision he still regrets. He started working odd jobs when he was 14 and spent much of his life employed in northern mines.

Now he has five kids of his own, 13 grandchildren and one great-grandchild and is using his role as an elder with the Athabasca Denesuline Education Authority to encourage them and all other kids to go to school.

“If they go to school, there will be opportunity for them. I didn’t go to school and only worked hard labor jobs. The younger generation can still work in the mines, but when you have an education, you don’t have to do the labor jobs,” he said.

He’s proud to say in recent years communities in Saskatchewan’s far north have produced doctors, dentists, teachers, RCMP and conservation officers who have become role models for the Fond Du Lac Denesuline First Nation, which is about 60 kilometers south of the Northwest Territories border and about 1,275 km northwest of Prince Albert.

For Adam, traditional Indigenous knowledge is just as important when it comes to education. He’s worried his culture is fading away.

“I used to go with this elder and sometimes go beaver hunting in a boat or caribou hunting. That’s where I got all my knowledge from, but you don’t see that happening now too much.”

He acknowledged there are culture camps throughout the province teaching kids how to hunt, ride dog sleds, and play traditional games among other lessons.

“It’s very important because if it wasn’t going the way it is now, it would have just died because a lot of young people – they don’t really seem to care about the traditional life.”

Adam uses his role as an elder to help preserve the Dene language. He noticed some kids in northern Saskatchewan can only speak English or are only spoken to in English. He says out of the population of 2,000 on and off reserve, only a handful are elders and the opportunity to maintain culture and tradition is dwindling.

Elder Angus Joseyunen

During his childhood, elders used to tell Angus Joseyunen to never lose his language.

“If you lose your language, you’ll lose everything and what your culture is supposed to be,” he said.

Joseyunen is now an elder himself from Hatchet Lake Band. The 66-year-old was born in The Pas, MB with four brothers and a sister. His parents also raised two other children.

“We had no electricity at that time. Just a lamp, no heaters, no wood stove at that time. We had to haul wood, but we didn’t have a chainsaw; just an axe to chop wood and we only lived in log cabins at that time.”

He grew up outdoors hunting and fishing, setting nets and canoeing in the summer time and hunting for ptarmigans in the winter. Joseyunen said he only went to school until Grade 3 and got his first job when he was 14 years old. He started working in the mines in 1982 and raised eight kids with his wife Rose. Like his parents, he and Rose also raised two other children. Family, he says, is important and he urges young people to embrace their culture.

“We teach them how to hunt, set a net or make a fire. Like my great-grandfather used to tell us – we start without electricity and end without electricity.”

As an elder for the Athabasca Denesuline Education Authority, Joseyunen encourages youth to make the most of their lives.

“I want to continue what I do now in working for the kids to get them going to school,” he said. “I want the kids to advance with their education but also be aware of their history and culture.”

His message is always the same – go to school and you will live a good life and so will your family.

Elders like Joseyunen are well respected for their wisdom when it comes to First Nations tradition. They impart knowledge, culture, values, and lessons by sharing and modeling traditional practices. By offering his input, Joseyunen plays a crucial role in supporting both formal and informal education in Indigenous communities across the north.

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Meet the Elders of the Athabasca Denesuline Education Authority

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