Grey skies hung heavy with a threat of a downpour Saturday. Yet they held off, almost as if the weather gods, if there is such a thing, knew the importance of what was happening at a little park on the Downtown Eastside.
A Haida totem pole was wheeled out of a carving studio on West Cordova just before noon. It was covered with blankets and lay on its back with hands pressed against it as it was wheeled up the street, through the celebratory crowd at Main and Hastings, then down Hastings to Pigeon Park.
Hundreds of people joined those who drummed, sang and cheered as the 27-foot-long pole carved out of a nearly 1,000 year-old red cedar from Haida Gwaii arrived at its final home at the park.
All were invited to the raising ceremony of the Survivors Pole representing all cultures and anyone who has suffered from racial and social injustice. It鈥檚 a symbol of hope, according to its creators.
Haida and Coast Salish Nations artist and DTES resident Bernie Williams carved the pole with her group of apprentices. Williams, who also goes by her Haida name Skundaal, is the only female apprentice of acclaimed Haida artist Bill Reid, who created more than 1,500 works in his life. The Survivors Pole is an initiative started by the Downtown Eastside Sacred Circle Society with endorsement from the Musqueam, Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh nations. Japanese, Chinese and South Asian survivors of racism, members of the LGBTQ community and DTES advocates were also part of the three-year art project.
The 麻豆传媒映画Park Board approved $50,000 in funds towards its installation while the Sacred Circle Society raised $19,000 through a Kickstarter campaign. The City of Vancouver, Potluck Caf茅, Portland Hotel Society and 麻豆传媒映画Moving Theatre/DTES Heart of the City Festival were also involved in the project.
The crowd only quieted as workers secured the totem to its hoists. It took several minutes, men in hard-hats and florescent safety jackets attaching and drilling the pole to its base. An organizer ran over to a small hill where photographers were standing, warning them not to inch any closer in case the pole fell.
The rain still held off. Then, the pole moved. It tilted by only a couple degrees, but it signified the start of the raising ceremony. Pigeon Park roared.
One of the workers hand-cranked the stabilization screws into the wood and their work was done. Their truck moved away and indigenous people moved to the pole and celebrated the first two lines in the poem engraved into the concrete base: 鈥淪ing your song, friend. Tell your story鈥︹��
Audrey Siegl walked around the pole with its carvings of a thunderbird, raven, bear and whale.
Siegl, a board member of the Sacred Circle Society and Musqueam activist, spoke of the importance of the Survivors Pole. Her voice broke and somebody鈥檚 arm reached out and touched her back offering comfort and strength. 鈥淚 feel victorious,鈥� she said. 鈥淚 heard the community singing, chanting. I heard them crying out鈥� in joy and triumph when the pole started to be lifted. When the crane started hoisting it, you could feel the pain but you could also feel healing moving in. I think 鈥� I know 鈥� this was necessary medicine for this community and it was done the right way. It makes that medicine even stronger.鈥�
Siegl finished speaking and at that moment, the skies could not hold back any longer and unleashed its torrent.
@rebeccablissett
