When Flora Wallace attended residential school in Kamloops in the 1930’s, she was beaten by nuns for singing in her own language. Now, her son proudly sings in his own language and passes it on to “anyone who will listen.”
Russell Wallace is an award-winning composer and singer from St’at’imc and Lil’wat Nation. His motivation for making songs in his own language was spurred on by his brave and resilient mom.
The Vancouver-based artist spoke to Pique about the importance of keeping language and music alive.
“My mom taught me a lot. She was from Xaxli’p in Lillooet and met my dad,” he said. “They moved to Mount Currie and learned the songs from there. She went through residential school and was beaten for singing in her language. She kept singing these songs and sharing them with other students.”
Wallace’s mom stressed the importance of making your voice heard, even in the face of oppression.
“She would share these songs with us and tell us the importance of keeping them,” he said. “Before she passed away, she told me to keep sharing these songs and not to let anyone to stop me from sharing them. So many people had tried to stop her from sharing them. My responsibility is to keep sharing them out of respect for her. I share them with anyone who wants to learn.”
The next generation
Wallace spends a lot of his time working with youth in universities and helping disadvantaged teens get the start they need. Hearing his own songs sang back to him never gets old. He is currently teaching refugees all about his First Nations history through a Vancouver youth choir project called Kindred.
“We share songs and sing with newcomers and refugees. It’s really amazing to share them with these youth,” said Wallace. “A lot of them say that Canada didn’t tell them about what it did to Indigenous people.”
Refugees coming to Canada for the first time are often shaken by the horrific oppression First Nations people here faced, he said.
“They are shocked because they escaped oppression from their own country to find out that this country did similar things to its Indigenous people. It’s eye-opening,” said Wallace. “They want to learn about Indigenous people so it’s really good just to see that. I share our songs with people from all over the world. It’s so good to see people smiling, laughing and wanting to share.”
The composer now uses St’át’imcets language in his songs, bringing the phrases to a worldwide audience on streaming platforms. However, he did not grow up learning the language. His mom and dad both had different responses to the hardship they faced in residential schools.
“It’s something that I had to learn. I am the youngest of 11 children. I grew up in Vancouver,” he said. “It was my dad’s decision not to teach the younger children our language. He went to residential school as well. He thought he was saving us from all of the stuff that had happened to him. He did it out of love.”
Flora would teach the children bits and pieces of their language when they asked, determined to pass it on to the next generation.
“I learned some of it from the songs. Right now, the majority of what I learn is in St’át’imcets,” Wallace said. “I reach out to friends and cousins in Mount Currie for help with translation. A song doesn’t have to have 10 pages of prose. It could just be one phrase or a few words.”
The teacher was influenced by other Indigenous artists to compose works in his own language.
“I was influenced by Leroy Joe with the Spiritual Warriors,” he said. “The majority of the songs that they sing are in St’át’imcets. They have a certain style. I love all different types of music. I thought it would be good to have our language in all of these different types of music. I set out to make songs in all of these different styles.”
The Ray and Flora Wallace Bursary
Wallace set up the Ray and Flora Wallace Bursary in his parents honour. It supports Indigenous music students at Vancouver Community College. The loving couple tried to support students in need, without their own children knowing. Their home was a haven for those down on their luck.
“My parents were very supportive of everybody,” said Wallace. “I only found out how supportive they were a few years ago. They had a whole hidden history. People would come to their house back in the ’80s when a lot of students didn’t have enough funding for books. They knew my parents were supportive. My dad would give them money for books. If they needed money to get back home, he would buy them a bus or train ticket. Somebody just told me four years ago that all of the students knew that my parents would help them. They never told me that.”
Creating a bursary in his parents’ name was a no-brainer for Wallace.
“I wanted to start something in their name because they contributed so much. Part of Indigenous history in the city is erased,” he said. “There are a lot of people that are forgotten. My dad loved music even though he didn’t play anything. My mom loved music because she sang. I just thought the bursary would be a perfect fit.”
Serious barriers still exist for some young talented musicians.
“I look at the barriers that I encountered. Some of them are still present now,” Wallace said. “When I went to high school, I wasn’t allowed to join band. I don’t know why. I have a feeling it was because of racism. They didn’t want me there. I loved music and I wanted to learn it. I had to learn it on my own and it took a long time. I don’t have any Western music training. It’s a bit of a hindrance. A lot of people require that you have that.”
Wallace explained lots of kids cannot easily access music lessons or buy an expensive instrument.
“It costs money to take lessons. If your school doesn’t have a band program, you are going have to pay to learn,” he said. “I know the struggles of being a student. Canadian society is not supporting the arts like it should be. Music and arts are being cut from the curriculum all the time. It is setting up a two-tier system where you have to be rich to learn how to play piano.”
Wallace knows more than most the important connection between land and language.
“If you lose your land, you are going to lose your language. If you lose your language, you’re going to lose your land,” he said. “There is philosophy and world view in the language. Any language that is lost is a huge loss to humankind. Trying to keep even just a phrase alive is important.”
‘How many snows are you?’
The artist uses one example to convey the beauty of his ancestors’ language.
“In English, when you ask someone what age they are they give a number of years,” explained Wallace. “In our language, the question is ‘k’winaszánucw máqa7.’ It basically translates to ‘how many snows are you?’ You ask how many winters that person has survived. It’s a very poetic way of asking that question. Winters are very hard and a lot of people pass away during winter.”
Wallace’s mom made it her life’s mission to pass her songs down to the next generation. She would sing them in the family kitchen at the top of her lungs.
“My mom was a bit of a rebel,” said Wallace. “The pushback she got would just make her sing louder. She forced me to be a spokesperson and a teacher, things I didn’t really want to do at that time. She was good at forcing me to do things.”
Wallace’s single “Pride” is about being two-spirited and finding peace in his identity.
“The LGBTQ2+ community in Western society has been looked down upon,” he said. “That went into our community through colonialism. There wasn’t much talk about it. My parents never talked about it, either. I never came out to my parents. That’s something I feel a bit bad about.”
Wallace hopes he can help others feel proud of who they are.
“I think even now, there are a lot of people in our community that feel shame about these things. It seems counterintuitive to say that I feel proud,” he said. “My parents taught us to be humble. I don’t want to feel shame, I want to feel pride. That’s what the song is about. The words are basically saying that I have two spirits, two life forces inside of me. I feel proud about being that way.”
Wallace said he still sees homophobia and transphobia across Canada in 2024.
“In B.C., some towns refuse to fly the pride flag. It’s still out there,” he said. “Being an older man and coming out late in life, I am willing to do the work that’s needed. It’s everywhere. Colonialism really did a number on our communities. There are still people who think being different is bad. I have encountered it. I have heard homophobic and transphobic words. It has permeated all parts of society. There are also good people and allies who support the community.”
For Wallace, music usually comes before the lyrics. “I have all these ideas floating around. Sometimes, I put them on the backburner until I am ready to do something with them,” he said. “I look at phrases in our language and see what fits.”
With “Pride,” he hunted down the words to display how he felt about being two-spirited.
“It took a long time for me to create it,” he said.
Stories of the land
Some of Wallace’s recent compositions were featured in Stories of the Land. The Vancouver Chamber Choir played the special concert consisting entirely of works by Indigenous composers at the First Nations Longhouse at UBC on June 8. Sadly, Wallace contracted COVID-19 and was not able to attend.
“I got emails from some of the singers in the audience. They said it went really well,” he said. “They used three choral pieces that I had written. One of them was a new premier of a song I wrote a long time ago.”
Wallace’s new album Retro Salish Futurisms features lots of different genres of music.
“It’s a mish-mash of songs that I heard growing up,” he said. “There’s a disco song on there in the St’át’imcets language. It’s full of all the stuff I loved growing up. I wish I had my ability that I have now back then.”
The veteran composer wants to ensure Indigenous youth can hear their own language in modern music.
“There wasn’t a lot of Indigenous music out when I was growing up,” he said. “I worked in radio back in the ’80s and I always trying to find Indigenous music to play. It was so hard. That’s when I realized that I should start playing music because I loved it. It would have made a big difference even just to hear Indigenous music back then.”
