A Family Story
In this text, I locate myself in relation to my Métis family. I share this story with love and respect for my family and the communities I am connected to. In listening to my relatives and teachers, I’ve come to understand that the story of my Métis family is common. I have been on a long journey of reconnection that began when I was a teenager. It’s important to share this part of the story because a lot of folks are on that journey themselves. For me, the journey has involved rebuilding fractured family relationships and a lot of learning over many years.
Sharing personal narratives can be a vulnerable but generative space for self-reflection and relationship building. Cathy Mattes enacts this teaching in her PhD dissertation, in which she aims to “name and ignite curatorial strategies intended to “help keep, or bring Indigenous hearts home. … The intent is to spur a remembering of who we are, what we know, and to then bring our individual and collective truths forward.”[1] I also look to Mimi Gellman who demonstrated care and integrity when sharing her own familial lineage and lived experience online. I acknowledge all of those—my blood relatives, chosen kin, and mentors—who help me to remember who I am.
My grandfather, Leonide Alfred “L.A.” Hogue, was Red River Métis from the community of St. François Xavier. My grandmother, Aurise Guimond, was French Canadian. They married in Winnipeg and later moved to Fort Frances, Ontario. They had two children: my uncle, Joseph Alfred Hogue, and my father, Joseph George Leonide “Leo” Hogue.
After my grandfather died, my grandmother wasn’t always able to take care of the boys. They grew up in and out of foster care. Despite these hardships, my father and uncle worked to remain connected to their Métis culture.
My father left home as a young man and went west. He attended Métis community meetings in Victoria, BC in the early 1970s. After meeting my mother, they moved to Smithers, BC where my brother was born. They lived in a cabin on Lake Kathlyn that belonged to my aunt Sheila (my father’s half-sister). They hauled their water from the lake. Dad loved living on the land and I know these were happy years.
I was born in Red Deer, AB. This is where my mother’s family moved after first immigrating to the East Coast from the Netherlands when she was a young teen. My father shared his love of the land with us, and we grew up camping, fishing, snowshoeing, and cross-country skiing. At Christmas, he would drive us into the bush to chop down a tree. He often picked up road kill, harvested quills, and tanned hides. There’s a tanned squirrel in a drawer at home somewhere—stiff as a board—that my brother and I always laugh about. He also had a deer hide made into a rifle case for my brother and mukluks for me—cherished memories and gifts.
My father’s love profoundly shaped my childhood as did his struggles. His childhood trauma and the mental illness inherited from his mother increasingly affected him. He took his own life when he was 46. I was 12.
My father shared what he knew about being Métis with us. I am endlessly grateful for this. Other family members have reinforced and deepened these teachings. This began with my mother, who helped me to register with the Métis Nation of Alberta.[2] My uncle Joe, who raised his family in the Pembina Valley, MB, told stories of my father and our family. He was proud of who we are, and we bonded over our shared enthusiasm for Indigenous art. My cousins in Winnipeg have shared further richness with me from personal memories to our material culture. To be in relation with these people is a gift.
As with many Métis families, my ancestors are well documented in census and scrip records. My lineage is a living relation that I’m never disconnected from.
My great-great-great-grandmother Jane was a Cree woman born in 1776 near York Factory. She married George Taylor “in the custom of the country.” Taylor was an HBC man born around 1759 in Berwick-on-Tweed.
Their daughter, my great-great-grandmother, Margaret (Marguerite) Taylor (Métis), was born in 1805 on Hudson Bay (referred to as the “Polar Sea” on her scrip). Margaret was 21 when she became the “country wife” of George Simpson, the Governor of Rupert’s Land. After Simpson abandoned Margaret and their two sons, she married Amable Hogue (b. 1796, St-Vincent-de-Paul-de-l`Ile-Jésus, Laval, QC) in 1831. They lived in the Métis labourers’ camp just outside the walls of Lower Fort Garry, a stone’s throw from the Governor’s new house that Amable helped to build. For his service as one of Simpson's elite voyageurs, Amable was given a river lot in the St. James Parish on the Assiniboine River just west of the Forks. Margaret, her children, and her grandchildren spent most of the rest of their lives here.
Margaret and Amable had ten children, including my great-grandfather Joseph Hogue (Métis), who was born in 1835. Joseph married Pelagie Turcotte (Métis) in 1859. Pelagie was born in 1843 to Vital Turcotte (Métis) and Madeline Caplette (Métis). Vital’s parents were Jean Baptiste Turcotte and Susanne Dubey (Métis). Madeline’s parents were Joseph Caplette and Angelique Guiboche (Métis). Angelique’s parents were Louis Guiboche (Métis), a fur trader and interpreter of some renown, and Angelique Saulteuse, his Saulteaux wife.
My great-grandparents later lived on adjacent river lots in St. Charles with Joseph’s brothers Amable and Thomas and their McMillan and Beauchemin relatives. The 1901 census identifies the Hogues as “Cree French Breed.” They farmed and bred ponies for the buffalo hunt. My cousin Jackie, who still lives in Winnipeg, inherited a beautiful pair of beaded leggings that belonged to Thomas. They were made by one of the women living in this extended family. The leggings brought Jackie and me together when she reached out to Sherry Farrell Racette, who introduced us.
These are my family’s stories. They are living memories and relations that allow me to stand as a Métis woman. Their resilience and care spur me to keep remembering and to keep learning.
[1] Cathy Mattes, “Indigenous Littoral Practice: a Viable Framework for Collaborative and Dialogic Curatorial Practice,” PhD diss. (University of Manitoba, 2021): 24.
[2] I am now a Métis Nation—Saskatchewan citizen. I am also eligible for citizenship through the Manitoba Métis Federation.