The departure of a giant

They will no longer be running on Indian Time.

Sadly, Akwesasne will be, by the end of this year, devoid of an independent media free of overt political influence, and whether you live there or not, you should be concerned.

The community has fallen short in preserving a dissenting voice in the Indian Time newspaper, a voice of reason, a newspaper that acts as the historical record, that covers important events - and the fun ones, too.

Akwesasne lost a local media outlet that put everything it had as a collective of newspeople with so much hope. This group punched above its weight and pulled no punches, existing despite so much financial uncertainty with so little help.

We aren’t sure where things turned the corner they did, but what Akwesasne loses by watching a media source that was launched in 1983 die is much more than “just a newspaper.”

No one should ever look at all the hard work, sacrifice, and the immense pressure that comes with running a printed newspaper as anything short of a miracle, and unless you’ve been in the trenches and dealt with the people directly like we have, you just won’t fully grasp the magnitude of such a loss. And you will never understand the amount of heartache and triumph that go into producing a paper every week for decades.

Akwesasne Notes is long gone. Does anyone remember the Akwesasne Phoenix? Different types of newspapers but media nonetheless, so what happens now that the second biggest Kanien’kehá:ka community will be without a vital part of a healthy democracy?

Well, we hoped things would change and it could live on, but after talking to editor Marjorie Skidders, it’s not that easy. They’ve tried. Nothing has given way, and they’re out of options.

Does that mean someone else will pick up the torch and launch a new media, free of the shackles Indian Time had, including a band council that stopped buying ads?

Well, no matter what, in a multi-jurisdictional community full of opinions and division on every corner - like all of our communities - who would take that chance, when in a Trumpian world, the media is no longer looked at as the same type of respectable career of yesteryear, but as a cancer to be controlled and shut down.

We’re sure some are cheering its demise, and that’s so very sad. They don’t realize what was lost, or they are too caught up in who knows what to care.

Either way, be sure of this: Whenever a community newspaper dies, especially in one of our communities, other reporters, editors, and newsfolk notice. And we mourn along with them.

Because we know what a council with proper checks and balances looks like – it’s forced to be better; we know what a sports scene with a photo of our youth, celebrating accomplishments of the ones who will one day be the tótas is – it feels good; and we know what a well-placed editorial on the importance of being better, doing better, and acting better does – it effects change.

Akwesasne will no longer have that voice very soon, with the last edition already having gone to print, and the rest released in the coming weeks online.

If you aren’t mourning during this funeral procession, you might be the kind of people who don’t like media because they report on things you’d rather the public not know.

Akwesasne has lost that, too.

The ability to put the community’s follies, foibles, and festivities out there for all to read, for you to judge, and for people to read what they need to do to be better Onkwehón:we, as a collective instead of individuals.

We here at The Eastern Door are saddened, heartbroken, and angry. Death comes in many forms, and although this isn’t a close relative or loved one, it’s a newspaper we all admired and looked to as an example; one we will no longer have the pleasure of reading.

Niawenhkó:wa Indian Time for everything you’ve done, for the part you played in advancing Indigenous journalism, and, of course, for fighting like hell for the truth, even if it cost you your life.

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