My name is Chi Ayaabe, Big Buck, I’m a Lac du Flambeau tribal member with Bad River, Lac Vieux Desert, and Michigan Tribal blood. Chi-Ayaabe is my Anishinaabe (Ojibwe) name. I’m from the Fish clan and I live In Lac du Flambeau (Waaswaaganing). I’m also known as Brian Jackson.
Brian Jackson | Lac du Flambeau, WI
I grew up on the south side of Milwaukee and lived with my mom until I was about twelve. We lived on 21st and Mineral on the south side and my brother Tony and I went to Longfellow Elementary School. We used to live directly across the street from the school and all the good things that provided. We had access to the playground, and we used to play a lot of different sports there. We’d run around the playground and play strikeout baseball, basketball, football ….you name it! In the evening, the neighborhood would play Kick the Can and my brother, and I would wait for my mom to call us in at nighttime. That’s one of those fun memories I have of those early days.
I moved to live with my grandparents when I was twelve. My grandfather, Joe Jackson Sr., he became a real role model for me. He was always there for me growing up. Part of his mentorship was that work ethic he had. He worked for American Motors and eventually went to Chrysler in Kenosha, so he used to commute. There was never really a day that he missed work and he always put overtime in and left early for work. He was a man who really showed me what responsibility was, taking care of the bills and taking care of my grandma. Even when I was playing sports in Little League, he was there. I didn’t really have a relationship with my dad at the time, but my grandfather was that father figure for me growing up. I always acknowledge him in that way because he was an awesome man. I appreciated him being there for me during those times in my life.
Brian describes when his grandfather first put him on his Big Drum and its importance in his life.
Back when I lived with my grandparents my grandfather had this vision that I can see now. At 12 years old, he put me on his Big Drum as a drum heater, as a third drum heater, and gave me responsibilities in that ceremony, to take care of the drum and set it up and take care of that Mishomis(grandpa). And so that was the beginning really, the eye-opening to my identity. At the time, I didn’t really know, I was still trying to figure it out. It wasn’t until a little bit later, as time went on, that I knew the responsibilities that it carried. I thank my grandfather for that. It was really the beginning of my cultural identity.
When I was fourteen, I ended up moving to my dad’s in the Wausau area. I took a job with the Great Lakes Inter-Tribal Council Native American Research Center Health (GLNARCH) program in Lac Du Flambeau and I’ve lived here almost 20 years now. I am a consultant currently with the Family Circles program in Lac du Flambeau and I think it is important to collect stories from elders to share with young people as a way of supporting cultural connections.
The elders, one of them being my dad, that I’ve been fortunate to hang around the last eight years in our Family Circles program have taught me a lot. It really humbles me trying to emulate their demeanor, their approach, and how they carry themselves. They’re calm, they’re quiet, they’re suave. They’re cool cats, man. These guys are something that I want to be. I watch them, and, hopefully, my sons are watching me and being inspired to do great things in life, whatever that may be.
I helped start the Waaswaaganing Institute of Indigenous Teaching and Learning with seasoned educators; Carol Amour & Doreen Wawronowicz, Indigenous knowing means sharing our stories with the next generations. As Anishinaabe people, we use our language, passed down by elders who have taught us that if we do not maintain and use our respective Native American languages, we will fail to exist as Indian people. Three of us started it, we financed our work through bake sales and volunteered out time. We recently hosted a thank you event for the community, celebrating donors and volunteers with an invitation list of close to 100. We now have a board, a budget, a CEO and substantial funding for our work. We’ve been a 501(c)3 for almost two years now. I am honored to be the president of our board.
I think a lot about the whole concept of community engagement. What it means. Do we have everybody involved? Is there room for different voices to be heard? Does it resonate with our young people? I think if we are consistently intentional, we’ll have momentum. And I think like with anything that we start, things start small, but if you stay with it, stay the course, that it eventually grows.
When I first started my education, a bachelor’s degree was my goal. That was the only goal, to just get my bachelor's degree to be considered for work positions that needed the degree. But once you get into academics you see all the possibilities and take inspiration from others, and the thought of continuing to graduate school becomes stronger.
A cool thing happened while getting my master’s in education at the University of Minnesota, Duluth. I met Gabe Desrosiers from Lake of the Woods, Ontario who became a good friend of mine. He’s a grass dancer who’s a lead singer with Northern Wind Singers, and he speaks fluent Ojibwe. We got accepted to the Indigenous Teaching and Curriculum doctorate that was in the works at UM-Duluth. What a great experience to be in a circle of other students in academia of this high level of academics, somewhere I didn’t think I would ever be. To be around that was humbling and just getting an opportunity to be in was really a blessing because of all the challenges I have had through life.
Native American education leaders need to know both their own community; values, history, connections to our family trees, as well as balancing with contemporary times because they must function in both societies or known as walking in two worlds. I was the board president of the Wisconsin Indian Education Association for fifteen years, and I’d often go to testimonies about the damage done by mascots. I’ve seen some of my colleagues questioned about their academic credentials. One time I was in Oshkosh and the lawyers asked me what my academic credentials were, and I told them I was a doctoral student. I could see their demeanor change toward me. What I saw made me think about the importance of that degree; how it is seen in some eyes and how it gets you, maybe, a seat at the table. That’s always been the vision in my work, that Indigenous people, Native people, can get to have a seat at the table, to be in positions leading our communities.
My dissertation focus was on leading from the middle while being culturally grounded. When I started, I wanted to save the world. But over the years my advisors encouraged me to narrow it down a little. Dr. Artley Skenandore shared a famous quote when I was interviewing him for my dissertation project. ‘Brian,’ he said, ‘in the Oneida nation, we’re all the same height.’ And I always remember that glorious thought because it’s a good way to think of people’s right to speak.
Getting my doctorate has allowed me to become an Assistant Professor at the Medical College of Milwaukee which allows me to advocate for holistic health programs for indigenous communities. I spend part of my time in Milwaukee and part of my time in Lac du Flambeau, in a way, my life, and my work, have come full circle.
Civic health is important, but I think it’s more than that. We think in terms of wellness and people’s state of mind, of acknowledging folks, celebrating folks. Those are some basic foundations that oftentimes can be glossed over, but they’re very important. The health of folks and their well-being, whatever that may be. If someone struggles with substance use or some other things, how do we get folks to look at themselves to re-engage? How do they get back on track?
Brian talks about the importance of listening to the teachers of our elders.
Our elders have taught us that when it comes down to it, basically all human beings just want to be understood and appreciated. We’ve been doing a lot of work at the AVW School. AVW is one of four K-8 schools in The Lakeland area that feeds students into the Lakeland Union High School. The superintendent and principal want all the students to know more about Ojibwe history and culture. We go there and we talk with the students. But we don’t start by talking about Indian stuff. We begin with the circle. We want to know the students’ names. We want to hear what they know about their families, their parents, their uncles, their aunties, their cousins, their grandparents, their great-great-grandparents, and you can go all the way down. What do they know about their families?
Then once we start to build a relationship, it gets a little looser and more comfortable, then we can begin a deeper understanding of who we are as Indian people. But at the same time, we want to understand who they are, what backgrounds they come from, what they know about their identity. Be proud of those backgrounds. All humans should be proud of who they are and where they come from. Nobody’s better than anybody.
My dad always said life was like a fork. Sometimes you may go down a side road, but eventually, you find yourself back on the main road and you get back on that fork of life. I think that’s one way I look at the whole world because I think that’s what we’re always striving for, that health equity. I think of the world in theory, but in practice I’m thinking of Lac du Flambeau, Waaswaaganing—my home.
Brian’s story was produced by Carol Amour. His story is part of our “Civic Health Heroes” series produced in collaboration with Urban Rural Action and the Center for Community and Nonprofit Studies
Urban Rural Action brings together Americans across divides to tackle our nation’s most urgent challenges.
The Civic Health of Wisconsin initiative is dedicated to strengthening current civic health efforts around Wisconsin, to spur innovation and foster more connected and engaged communities.
Check out this episode of our Human Powered podcast. This episode starts with a meal around a fire, in a place where people have been cooking and eating for more than 5,000 years. Our hosts are Marvin Defoe and Edwina Buffalo-Reyes, members of the Red Cliff band of Lake Superior Ojibwe in Bayfield County. For the last three years, the Red Cliff Tribal Historic Preservation Office has been collaborating with two archaeologists helping excavate sites on tribal lands. Listen to hear what they are doing to reclaim and revitalize the deep history and culture of their people—and to help train a new generation of scholars committed to centering indigenous knowledge.
