While on a search for information about an influential woman, third-year student Tony Peter-Paul reconnects with his roots
Once the VLT machine took all of elder Maggie Paul’s tokens, she got up from her seat and set out to the bingo hall.
“Come with me,” Maggie said. “I can tell you what I know about Gwen.”
I followed Maggie from the gaming lounge, across the smoke-filled entrance of St. Mary’s Entertainment Centre, and into a large hall filled with gamers. She led me through a maze of tables and chairs until we arrived at her seat. With her hand, she motioned me to sit next to her.
Across the table sat Maggie’s husband Stanly Paul. Stan took a cigarette out of his pack, lit it, and glanced up at me.
“I am here to find out about Gwen Bear,” I said. “There is no one word to describe how much of a wonderful person Gwen was,” Stan said.
He looked at Maggie who was already looking at him. At this point I realized I hit a touchy subject. After a second of silent reconciliation between the two, they told me what they knew.
***
A few days before my meeting with Stan and Maggie, I was approached by a friend at St. Thomas University. He asked me if I could do a story about the University of New Brunswick’s Elder in Residence, Gwen Bear, who recently passed away. Knowing nothing about her, I went to the Micmac and Maliseet Institute (MMI) at UNB.
After mentioning Gwen Bear, I could tell from the secretary’s awkward expression that something was wrong. After receiving a couple email addresses and discomforting looks, I retreated back to STU empty handed. I emailed the contacts I received from MMI, asking them if they could tell me about Gwen. I got no response. I emailed the College of Craft and Design where she used to work. Still, no responses. Then, I emailed my friends at STU and UNB who might have known her.
To my surprise most of them did. Strangely though, they would not talk about her. They told me either it was too touchy of a subject or they just couldn’t do it.
And then I got the message that told me where to look. “The St. Mary’s Entertainment Centre. Maggie is usually there about 6-7 p.m. She is very approachable and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind speaking,” the message read.
The next evening I set off to the Northside. In the bingo hall, Maggie and Stan stamped their four-by-three bingo sheets as each ball was called.
“Gwen was like a mother hen at the craft school,” said Stan as he flicked ash into the ashtray. “She embraced everybody.”
The passing of Gwen took an emotional toll on many people who knew her. She died two weekends ago in her Fredericton home. Some believe she died from a sudden heart attack, but it is still unclear.
***
Gwen taught native studies for 18 years at the New Brunswick College of Craft and Design. All of her students shared a devoted friendship with Gwen and each other. When they had issues outside of school, they would often seek guidance from Gwen. During her time there she exposed students to traditional, cultural, and spiritual teachings.
“She taught her students the old ways,” said Maggie.
When making baskets, she would bring the students into the woods to pick the right tree. They would fashion tools similar to those used hundreds of years ago to cut and shave the tree. Every stage of basket-making and all other teachings was done in respect to native tradition.
Gwen married in 1970. She moved to Massachusetts and lived there for 10 years. After three children and a break-up with her husband, she returned home to Tobique First Nation. An elder advised her to attend university, so she moved to Fredericton. Gwen graduated from St. Thomas University with a bachelor of arts in Native studies and English as well as an education degree.
In 2006, Gwen retired from NBCCD and enrolled in UNB’s Masters of Education program. She was appointed by the province to serve as a board member of the New Brunswick Museum. She then became the elder-in-residence at UNB. Being fluent in her native tongue, she taught Maliseet at STU. Gwen also passed on the old medicine wheel teachings. She was a pipe carrier, performing healings and sweat lodge ceremonies. Gwen made it a mission to pass on her knowledge of native culture and tradition to the next generation.
After speaking to those who knew Gwen, I am reminded how important our elders are. They possess a great deal of knowledge about our world and our selves. I regret that I did not know this woman. The impact of her death will remain fresh for a while. She will be missed but she will not be forgotten. What is important now are her teachings. We must not forget what she worked so hard to pass on. The many students who are grieving her loss must also pass on what they have learned. I am sure that Gwen would have wished it be that way.
After thanking Maggie and Stan for speaking to me about Gwen, I got up from my seat. As I walked away, I turned back and exchanged waves and smiles with the elders. “Drop by the house some time for a sweat [sweat lodge ceremony],” said Maggie.
