Hindsight is 20/20, but sometimes unfairness should be evident in the moment. When a policy causes unjust, irreversible harm to someone, it’s wrong. One cannot reason it’s for the greater good either, without evidence to support the argument. More importantly, one should not favour injustice based on an unfounded opinion, no matter how many people share it. Majority does not equal truth. There were many injuries inflicted on Indigenous peoples across North America that are only now being unearthed and openly discussed. How We Stand uses a family’s divergent paths to give voice to some of these deep wounds.
In the 1950s, the U.S. government posted ads promising Indigenous people work and housing if they moved from their rural homes to urban centres. Wanting a better, more stable life for her three daughters, Angela (Cara Jade Myers) takes them up on the offer. The family moves from Oklahoma to Los Angeles. But when they arrive at their unfurnished shack, a notice Angela can’t read informs them that they’ve been given food stamps instead of employment. Everything the government promised was a lie. After tragedy strikes, and to add insult to injury, the three girls end up in the foster care system.
Following their separation, the girls go on to live very different lives. The film picks them up in 1973. Jessie (Amber Midthunder) was the only one of her sisters adopted into a permanent home. Raised by white parents that removed her from her heritage, she becomes a doctor at a free clinic and the most successful of her siblings. Miranda (Alyssa Wapanatâhk) is an activist who tries her hand at acting. The director (Eric Johnson) tells her she could “pass” as white, if she wanted to fully shed her “Indian” baggage. Janey (Isabel Deroy-Olson) is the most troubled, and is picked up by police during a psychotic break. She’s mourning the loss of a child, but there’s no evidence she gave birth.
Writer-director Marie Clements expertly intertwines the three stories, exposing each woman’s present-day betrayals by the system and the men in their lives. Even though they have different lifestyles, their personal pain and past trauma continues to affect them, too. Their distress draws them back to the last place they were all together and their bond transcends the distances that separate them.
Clement previously explored the horrific realities of Canada’s Residential School System in her 2022 feature, Bones of Crows, which also had its world premiere at TIFF. In this film, she uses the three sisters’ stories to examine different policies that negatively affected Indigenous peoples south of the border.
The Native American Relocation Program was a government ploy to persuade people to give up their land or leave their reservations. As the film shows, they moved to cities with even fewer opportunities and no familial or community support. Unable to provide for themselves, they would become reliant on government assistance programs. Angela only realizes it was a bait-and-switch after they arrive. Believing she’s ruined their lives, she sinks into despair. Then a catastrophic event dashes any dreams they had for the future.
Then there is the government-subsidized sterilization program, which is one of the most despicable policies ever executed. It is a clear attempt to eradicate the remaining Indigenous population. They performed permanent procedures on thousands of women without their consent or knowledge during the 1960s and 1970s. The selection process dramatized in the film is not only prejudiced, but appalling. It’s just one of the many aspects of the narrative to feel enraged about.
Less serious, but still impactful, is Miranda’s encounter with non-white representation in Hollywood. It was generally problematic, as they historically cast white actors for non-white roles. Accordingly, directors cast darker-skinned white people to play Indigenous characters. The Western within this movie has a clear mix of Indigenous and white actors playing the “Native Americans.” But during auditions, the director isn’t even sure casting an Indigenous person in an Indigenous role is “right.”
The end of the film features a massive storm that floods the city, including a shrine to the historic oppression of Indigenous peoples. It has a cleansing effect, but it can’t wash away the country’s sins. Clement’s narrative, based on her play, Tombs of the Vanishing Indian, once again delivers a poignant examination of injustice and harm in Indigenous communities.
