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Calgary's lavish civic center was transformed into a showcase for aboriginal achievements and ambitions May 16 as the second annual Native Awareness Week got underway to create a bond between the Native and non-Native communities in the southern Alberta city.

The city's top officials turned out to honor members of the Calgary Indian Friendship Center who received the Chief David Crowchild Award for promoting aboriginal heritage.

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Members of the Calgary Indian Friendship Center received the Chief David Crowchild Memorial Award during Calgary's 1990 Native Awareness Week.

The city's top political officials turned out to present the annual award to the newly-appointed board of directors now chaired by Morley businessman Bob Lickers.

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Joe Crowshoe Sr., 81, from Peigan Nation received an honorary doctor of law degree at the recent 1990 convocation ceremonies at the University of Calgary.

Honoring Crowshoe was considered an appropriate start to Calgary's week-long Native awareness activities, said Coordinator Robert Laboucane. Crowshoe was nominated by the Native awareness week coordinating committee.

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"It was more emotional than I expected. I wasn't going to cry, I told myself I wasn't going to cry."

But Trudy Jansen cried anyway when she met her mother Annie Cook for the first time May 18 at Edmonton's International Airport. As soon as they saw each other they fell into each other's arms.

Shortly after, Trudy's sister Shirley, her nephew Christopher, her husband Werner and her daughter Tanya huddled together savoring the moment.

"I cried so much when I gave her away," said Annie. "So I wasn't going to cry this time."

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Elders often talk about the lost generation of school-age kids who don't respect their elders, don't listen to their parents and they don't seek their knowledge and they abuse drugs and alcohol. It's a generation that fails to meet many elders' expectations.

But there is another view and it's a disturbing one.

The 'lost generation of youths' point their fingers at parents and grandparents and their abuse of alcohol and drugs, which they say are the main obstacles to family communication, sound parental guidance and the teaching of culture and language.

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His hands are big, strong and gnarled from years spent outdoors. He speaks with authority and humor and his face is youthful and seems o be carved with a smile that never gives up. William Noskey, 62, is speaking in Cree, his hands gesturing, his eyes bright. He's talking of the old days and how things just aren't the same anymore.

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When I first met Mable Chomiak at her Loon Lake home in northern Alberta she was busy foaming her living room rug, preparing for her birthday party.

But she was kind enough to offer a weary reporter a cup of hot coffee and some friendly conversation. Her hospitality was indeed a sign the north is full of down-home country folk.

According to Mable everybody in Loon Lake is friendly ever since a pioneer named Clarence Jaycox first settled there in the early 1900s.

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It was a beautiful day on the river; it was sunny and the water was clam. In their canoe, Okwir:se and Tiorahkwathe paddled at a quick pace in chase of a substantially larger and different vessel from theirs. After much time and effort they paddles alongside and kept pace with the large vessel.

At the sight of the strangers, the people on the vessel rushed to see who they were and the head man spoke about: "Who are you?"

"We are messengers sent by the Creator," answered Okwira:se.

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Canadians would never put themselves in the sorry company of nations that ignore international law and basic human rights. This isn't Iran, China or Guatemala, we tell ourselves smugly, this is a country with a conscience.

It's a conscience with some blind spots. There was barely a stir when the United Nations Human Rights Commission ruled the Canadian government had violated the Lubicon Lake Cree Band's rights under Article 27 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights.

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The $450 million lawsuit launched recently by Enoch Nation against the federal government brings to mind a young newspaper carrier, who got up at 5:30 every morning to do his route.

After fishing an hour later, he would sit down to a nice family breakfast. Every week or so after he collected his money, he gave it to his father, who insisted on keeping it for him. But the paper carrier thought the money should be put in a bank.