No, I don’t have all the answers

Harry Shannon

My cousin Henry told me about an online talk last week by David Rooney, a British historian. Rooney has just written a book called “About time: A history of civilization in twelve clocks.” The talk was very nicely done; I enjoyed it a lot. Rooney used each clock to illustrate a one-word theme – e.g., order, virtue, empires, war, peace. But the relevance to this post was his answer to one question. I say ‘answer’ but it was in fact a non-answer. He said explicitly he wasn’t going to answer, as he hadn’t thought about the matter, and didn’t want to say something on the fly. I was impressed he’d have the honesty to admit that and not just waffle for a bit.

I was reminded of this when I read a very interesting column in the Toronto Star on Sunday (July 18) by Kofi Hope, headed: “Forget charity. If you really want to show solidarity with Indigenous people, you need to listen and follow.”

Here’s the bit that reminded me of Rooney. No comment from me is needed. The rest of the column is also worth reading.

From 2006-2007 I had the privilege of supporting work within the United Church of Canada around reconciliation. I was able to learn from some incredible teachers, primarily Lorna Pawis, from Wasauksing First Nation, who led the United Church Healing Fund at the time.

I remember once accompanying Lorna to a meeting held by a group of First Nation elders. I was a young 24-year-old, fresh out of school, who had led multiple organizations and thought I had it all figured out. I remember during the meeting one elder would pose a question, asking “so how do we solve this issue our young people are facing?” And instead of responding the entire table would nod, look at the speaker and respond with “hmmmm…” No response.

After this happened three or four times I was squirming uncomfortably in my seat. By the end I was so confused, I confronted Lorna saying, “That wasn’t a good meeting, so little was accomplished, people didn’t speak to so many issues.”

She just shook her head and looked down at me, saying, “Kofi, our people do things differently. In our culture it’s not a sign of wisdom to try to answer every question that gets asked if you haven’t come to a firm conclusion yet. Not responding shows you are considering… It’s a sign of strength, not weakness.”

For someone who had grown up in a Western culture of advocacy and argument, who had even been part of the debate club at U of T, this was totally earth-shattering. I’d never considered for a moment there could be different ways to meet, discuss critical issues and come to solutions. It made me realize how much I had to learn about Indigenous people and culture. As much as I desperately wanted to help, I needed to step back, listen and follow.