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Simon Daniel James: producer & filmmaker

Interviewed at his home on Bowen Island, British Columbia. Dec. 3rd, 2008

 

Born 1969, Alert Bay, British Columbia

 

“Successful people aren’t born that way. They become successful by establishing the habit of doing things unsuccessful people don’t like to do. The successful people don’t always like these things themselves; they just get on and do them.”

 

– William Makepeace Thackeray (1811 – 1863), English novelist

 

SJ:

I was born on a tiny little island in the middle of British Columbia’s beautiful coast. My grandfather moved the entire family to Campbell River where he thought we could get a better education. It wasn’t too far away from Alert Bay, our home base, and he could still maintain his lifestyle as a commercial fisherman. I spent all of my schooling years in Campbell River, and then I moved to the mainland when I realized that I had outgrown Vancouver Island. I pretty much learned all that I could there.

 

I learned a little bit of everything from numerous people. I remember seeing my Grade 6 teacher at a gas station when I was 20, he was very old at this time. I walked over and thanked him and he looked at me — he remembered me after I told him who I was — and he said, “What would you thank me for? I was mean to you.” And I said, “You taught me discipline. When you walked around the classroom with a 12-inch long, 1-inch round dowel and smacked my desk, you taught me to focus, and I just wanted to thank you for that.” He was also one of the only teachers who took me camping. His emphasis was on the environment. He taught biology and science so camping was part of his course.

 

My grandfather was a major influence in my entire life. He taught me compassion. He taught me discipline, even though he spoiled me rotten. He taught me that it’s better to earn respect than to control by causing fear. So where I had uncles that pushed me around, knocked me down and made me fear them, my grandfather just taught me unconditional love and respect. I was just a nobody at that time. I wanted more than anything to just please him, so I worked very hard to excel at everything I did.

 

Over the years I’ve learned about culture and the history of our people, where we should have pride and where we should be humble. That’s one thing that a lot of people don’t learn. There are times that you should be humble. There are some things in our history that we should not really focus on.

 

 

LS:

Explain what you mean by humble.

 

SJ:

Residential school, you’ll constantly hear people who were victims of residential school. The very first thing they say is, “Hi, my name is blah blah. I am a victim of the residential school, and this is why I’m angry.” They basically make themselves champions of a cause, which is a negative cause. When you go to aboriginal cultural events you’ll hear somebody speaking to a camera, for the news, “Hi, my name is … something… and I’ve been drug and alcohol free now for 10 years.” Why is that a focus? Maybe there are some things that should not be our primary focus.

 

 

LS:

Most people don’t know about residential school, can you say what that was?

 

SJ:

Residential school was a long-practiced way of control where children were taken from their parents and placed into a school system, and quite often not educated. They were just placed there so that they could control the adults, and more importantly control the children. And quite often they used religion to eradicate the person’s belief. And they tried to breed them out as a way of eradicating the species. This was the Canadian government’s focus.

 

 

LS:

“Breed them out,” what does that mean?

 

SJ:

Residential school was something that the Canadian government enacted where the children of the aboriginal people were taken from their parents, brought in to these buildings and beaten, molested, and treated poorly. Quite often the younger girls were raped, so that they could breed them out. Then their children would not be part of our culture. It was a very wide, common practice in North America and you’ll hear this constantly from Native people. The last residential school only closed 20 years ago.

 

 

LS:

These were compulsory?

SJ:

Yeah. It was either do, or go to jail. If you don’t submit your children to the residential school and walk away, then we will forcibly come, pick up your children, and send you to jail.

 

 

LS:

But you, yourself, didn’t have to attend.

 

SJ:

No, I’m not a victim of the residential school, but my father was, so I consider myself a product of it. I am a firm believer in genetic memory, so that all of the hardships that my father endured through residential school, all the difficulties that my mother endured prior to my birth, are chemically in me.

 

If I’m confronted by somebody who considers themself to be an authority — and that is more than likely a white Canadian — I find myself to be timid. But then that little timid boy inside of me hits the wall and becomes aggressive. So if I’m confronted by a police officer, for example, I shy back for a few seconds and then I get aggressive. And my quick response is, “What’s the problem? What is you’re problem with me?” It’s been known to get me in trouble, that aggressiveness. My father, same attitude, my mother, same attitude: they’re very shy at first, that lasts for a small moment, and then they just explode.

 

I am a protector, being as big as I am, I am a protector. So if I see somebody being pushed around I can’t help it, I jump in and I try to protect them. And quite often I get hurt because of that. I think my anger stems from not being able to do what I need to do, or worse yet, when I was younger I wasn’t able to say what I wanted to say.

 

It’s strange that you’re in a long list of people who now want to hear what I have to say, where most of my young life I was told to keep my mouth shut. Now everyone wants to know why I was so quiet, what is it that I have to say now. People are asking advice on subjects of aboriginal culture, aboriginal education, why we have a 70% drop-out rate in the aboriginal communities nation wide. They look to me for answers.

 

 

LS:

Has that change come about because you now have something to say, or because people now want something to be said? Did you grow up, or did they grow up?

 

SJ:

They did. I always had these things to say, ever since I was a child. My grandfather was a master speaker, he spoke about aboriginal residential schools, about the law that forbid us to speak our language, dance and perform, even give gifts. It was against the law.

 

My grandfather was a third grade graduate. His explanation for that was, “I learned how to read, and I learned how to write English. That was all I needed to know in order to go out and learn.” And he did. He was on a first-name basis with the Prime Minister of Canada, the ministers of Fisheries, Education, and Finance in Ottawa. He befriended all of these people, and he knew that one day that was going to benefit him.

 

In the late 60’s my grandfather was given an opportunity to speak at the United Nations and talk about these things. He took that as an advantage. The story is that he went down to one of the museums in the US and walked in with a note pad and started writing down the stock numbers of the stuff on display. He wrote what the items were and who they belonged to. Security showed up and asked what he was doing and he says, “Well, I’m just taking a list of the things that are coming home with me. I’ve rented a van and I need you to open up this back door here, and I need these things put in a box and I’m taking them home.”

 

They thought he was a nut so they called the police. The police showed up and my grandfather was still taking numbers, and when they tried to arrest him he pulled out his United Nations diplomat card and says, “I’m a diplomat in this country. I have diplomatic immunity. You can’t touch me.” So he used that to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was people to finally notice that these things were stolen from us. Well, those things are now sitting in the U’mista Cultural Center in Alert Bay.

 

 

LS:

He didn’t get them just then, did he?

 

SJ:

Oh no, but he started the process. It took a while.

 

We are still considered 3rd class citizens in our country because we act like 3rd class citizens at times. I will never give excuses about Native people, and you’ll hear it constantly. People will say, “I lost my language. It was taken from me.” That is a lie. They never learned it in the first place. I’ll be the first one to admit I never learned it. It was available to me, my grandfather spoke, my aunts and uncles spoke it; I never learned it. Quit lying to people, you know? Accept responsibility for your own actions. And that’s where knowledge is so much more important than schooling. These are things that aren’t offered in education, it’s something that you have to seek yourself.

 

 

LS:

You’re not just talking about language are you?

 

SJ:

Anything. When I was 15 I wanted to learn to be an artist. Who better for me to learn from than my father. So I went to him, and after he taught me all that he could, I thought that I still didn’t know enough, so I went out and I practiced with other artists. I studied museum collections. I spent a long time practicing my craft: painting, sculpting, glass, carving, totem poles, canoes, anything.

 

Two years ago I learned Styrofoam carving. I was joking the whole time saying, “You know, we as Native people have run out of Western Red Cedar so we have to carve something else!” I learned how to do Styrofoam carving by making a parade float for the Roger’s Santa Claus parade. Roger’s is one of the larger communications companies in Canada and they sponsor this event.

 

I wanted Raven Tales to have some exposure so I found sponsors to help me, and worked in a warehouse for 3 months in the cold, and carved a parade float using a 30-foot long cedar dugout canoe as the base. I made the waves that it was riding on out of Styrofoam and made Raven, Eagle and Frog, sitting in the canoe, out of Styrofoam. I had a friend who works in a movie props company in North Vancouver. I called him up, borrowed his tools, and he showed me how to use them. A two-hour lesson and I pretty much mastered it. I’m 39, about to turn 40, and I’m still learning.

 

I just helped Melissa put in her septic field. I built the encasement around her tank. I connected all the pipes from the tank to the field. First time I ever done that. I’ll admit to you that I lied to her… a little bit! (laughs) I told her, “Oh, sure. I know how to do this!” That’s been my ongoing excuse in everything I do. Well, that’s how I met my wife. I had a company come to me and ask me if I’ve ever carved totem poles before, and my immediate response was, “Oh, yeah. Several.” I never carved a totem pole in my life before that one! And that was the one that was shipped to Japan. I carved two more in Japan in front of them to prove that I did the first one.

 

 

LS:

Do you use your family as resources, or do you draw on the research and study that you did?

 

SJ:

Both. If I can I utilize my family I will, but the big thing with me is how do I compensate them. When I was carving the first totem pole I was diagnosed with Diabetes Type II. Completely devastated, I stopped work for 2 weeks to get back to health. I was 2 weeks behind schedule and I phoned up my father who hadn’t spoken to me for about 4 months. I told him I had diabetes and he showed up the next day, no questions asked, and said, “What do you want me to do?” This is what you do as family: when somebody needs help you just drop everything and go. And that’s one of the things that my father taught me.

 

You’ve met my father. He’s a very passionate person. Compassionate person as well. And he’s had a very hard life, but he’s had a lot of education in his life. He’s a world-class soccer player, and internationally renowned artist. I have some big shoes to fill. Speaking at the United Nations two years ago was my first step. The only thing that I focus on is to become a better artist, and learn new stuff. Computer animation was one of those things.

 

 

LS:

Tell me how you got into that.

 

SJ:

The infamous phone call. I was visiting my father on my birthday. He was sick and tired of hearing me talk about how commercial fishing was dying, and how it wasn’t worth investing in anymore. I poured myself a cup of coffee and while I was sitting there he dialed the phone, and then hands me the receiver and says, “Here, make an appointment.” I didn’t know who he called! I pick up the receiver and I heard, “Vancouver Film School, how can we help you?” I said, “I’d like to make an appointment please.” So the next day I had an appointment. They looked at my résumé and said, “You need to get into animation. This is something that you really should focus on.”

 

I never had a computer before, I didn’t even have an email address.  I thought I would focus on 2D animation because I can draw. After 11 months of 2D animation training I graduated with an 86% average, which was a letter of completion, which was fine. I wasn’t trying to be the best, I was just trying to figure this stuff out as I went.

 

Then I had the option to go on to an introductory 3D animation course with a 30% discount. Why not? So I walked in to this computer animation course, sat down and I looked at the person beside me and kind of whispered, “Please don’t laugh, but how do I turn this computer on?” (laughs) And he said, “It’s in suspend mode, just move the mouse.” I didn’t know what suspend mode meant! So I moved the mouse and the thing came on, and I was excited, and I did the lesson.

 

 

LS:

Let me interrupt. Is 2D animation strictly drawing and not base on using a computer?

 

SJ:

It’s pretty much all drawing based. We scan the images and then use programs to manipulate everything. We do all our color on a computer, and we can do minor editing, but a majority of it is still hand drawn. It’s laborious, very laborious.

 

 

LS:

And 3D is all done on a computer?

 

SJ:

3D is all computer: it’s all Pixar and Disney kind of stuff. But if you have 2D experience prior to 3D it’s a huge benefit because you understand more about movement. The 2D world teaches you about weight, structure, and balance, more so than when you’re on the computer. The computer world has no weight, no balance, no structure. In 2D we’re limited to the size of the paper; in 3D there are no limits. I learned that almost on the first day, when I had to use my 2D experience of weight to make the scene better.

 

I remember I had a truck pulling a trailer with a boat on it. And I animated this not knowing how to set rotation on tires, how to set movement on the trailer and truck, and how to attach them to each other. I just moved it according to what my eye told me to do.

 

When the truck came to a stop the truck moved forward, and then it came back, which is what we do in 2D animation, you actually have a counter-movement. When the truck moved forward the back end came up, so of course the front end of the trailer is going to move up a little bit, and then come back down when it rests. The instructor was blown away and he was, like, “How’d you do that?” And I said, “Well, I was just playing with it and I figured it out myself.”

 

In my second week my instructor came to me and asked me how much 3D computer experience I had and I said, “None, this is my first time.” And he said, “Well, I hope you’re not insulted by this question, but how much computer experience have you had?” And I jokingly tapped the computer screen and said, “I’ve never touched one of these things in my life.” He actually stood up and applauded… in an empty classroom. He said, “Anyone else who walked in here like you did, I think would have quit a week ago, and you’re doing amazingly for someone who’s never touched a computer before.” And now, here I am a computer animation producer! (laughs)

 

 

LS:
You’ve done almost a dozen of the Raven Tale episodes, haven’t you?

 

SJ:

13 episodes. We’re currently working on 13 more that are confirmed and fully funded. I just have to write some more stories, and Chris has to write some more stories, and we’ll get those things done. And now the talk is about going for 5 seasons, that’s 65 episodes.

 

 

LS:

Tell me the spirit behind the project.

 

SJ:

I’ve been quoted as to saying, “10,000 years of market research can’t be wrong!” People laugh when I say it, but that basically was the whole thing. If these 10,000 year old stories have lasted this long, there has to be a reason for it. People want to hear them again and again, generation after generation. We took that notion and created stories based around our three primary characters: Raven, Eagle and Frog. We just called it “Raven Tales.”

 

 

LS:

Are these stories from all up and down the coast? Do the cultures of the coast share the same tales?

 

SJ:

Originally it was Northwest Coast, and I did have 13 Northwest Coast stories. After we finished episode 7 Chris, who’s Cherokee, had a lot of interest in telling Cherokee stories, and Hopi stories, and Navajo stories. We ventured into it because they were interested, the Navajo people wanted it, they said, “Well, you’ve got to tell something from down here.” And this was always the question that people asked, “How do you go down to these territories if you’re Northwest Coast based?” The explanation is that Raven and Eagle can fly, and Frog is mystical anyway, so she can show up where ever she wants.

 

 

LS:

I thought you were focusing on reviving cultural tales for kids, but it sounds like you have bigger goals.

 

SJ:

Yeah, I’ve always loved that expression, “Think big or go home.” It’s a common expression up here. When we started Raven Tales our original idea was just to create animation for children, possibly do a few books. Definitely do some toys and T-shirts and such. Maybe we’ll make some money out of this and put it into another project. We had no interest in getting into education at all.

 

That changed. Raven Tales is part of Native Language programs now. Raven Tales is the only animated television show licensed with the Provincial School Board. It was something that we were not interested in at first, but it just happened.

 

I was invited to a First Nations education steering committee conference. I was asked to show Raven Tales and I showed up expecting to be in a darkened room with 50 or 60 teachers. I arrived at one of the biggest hotel banquet rooms in Vancouver and see this poster that says, “Simon James, Keynote Speaker.” OK, so now I’ve got to come up with a speech. Luckily I’m fairly good at it, and I came up with a speech on the spot.

 

I walked in to the room and there are 300 plus teachers with a 20-foot screen, so I was thrown. I was introduced to the Minister of Education and to people who could make things happen, and they did. They kept their promises. Now there is a whole curriculum created around the Raven Tales project.

 

The project has developed a life that is bigger than I had ever suspected, probably bigger than any of us expected. Two years ago we got a phone call: Raven Tales is about to be licensed with the Al Jezeera network. So at that point I thought, “Wow, Raven Tales is actually going to be like an olive branch in the Middle East,” with the 50 million viewer ship of the Al Jezeera network. They’re not interested in seeing Homer Simpson, a white American family; they have no interest. But they’re interested in Raven Tales (laughs)… I thought that was so cool! I haven’t been paid in 5 years, so that tells you that I’m in it for life.

 

One of the coolest things that I experience is when I’m invited to a school district to give a lecture on Raven Tales. I show up as the speaker and I hold up my DVD’s and I say, “Hello, my name is Simon James and I would like to ask a quick question: why do you think I’m holding up these copies of Raven Tales?” And the answers are always the same: I bought it at a store, or it was a gift given to me. Out of the 300 students I saw in one district only one student had it right: “You made it.” It goes beyond them that a Native person that lives here, just like their parents, could have created this.

 

I hated school. All my teachers disliked me (laughs). I had no girl friends. My life was hell in school. But I toughed it out and I graduated. Now I can hold my head very high, to know that I’ve never hurt anybody in any of the careers that I’ve had in my life. And then when I say I was born in Alert Bay, raised in Campbell River, and I went to the same schools like you’re in right now, that’s when their minds go, “Wow, maybe I can do it too!”

 

 

LS:

I want to ask you a question that’s a little off the wall, but it’s important to me. For me, the idea of prejudice has been a big issue. I see prejudice at the root of a lot of inhuman behavior. People treating other people badly cuts across all social levels, and it manifests itself in cultures treating other cultures badly. It’s never spoken about, it’s never identified. I would like people to recognize it and I’m wondering if you can shed any light on it. What do you think of prejudice? It’s a hard question.

 

SJ:

Oh no. I live with racism almost every day. Being a Native person you’re subjected to racism constantly. People see us as uneducated, living on welfare, living on a reservation, alcoholic… not just uneducated but also ignorant.

 

I was raised within the culture of my people. My grandfather taught us how to dance and how to sing and how to drum. I’ve learned almost all the stories in the culture of the Kwakwakua people, because that’s where I come from. I’ve also learned a lot about Salish, Haida, Tlingit, and Tsimshian, and now because of Raven Tales I’ve learned a lot about Hopi, Navajo, and every other culture around North America. So what does it mean to be Native? Prejudice is something I live with every single day.

 

I have been beaten. I was at a party one night when I was 18 years old, and when people found out that I was Native six people jumped on me. I remember there was a New Zealand rugby team that was there visiting, and they were shocked that I lasted for 20 minutes against 6 people, and impressed that I was actually the one that was dragged away by the police that night.

 

People are now starting to understand. As my grandfather said, through education will go ignorance. And hopefully one day the Canadian government and the United States government will no longer fear us, and will no longer want to eradicate us.

 

 

LS:

What do you see happening in the future?

 

SJ:

I see digital technology saving the culture, but it’s not going to save the DNA. We will be eradicated. And I think most cultures of the world will be subject to that. You know you always hear these stories that they’ve discovered a new tribe of people in South America. No, they haven’t discovered them, they just finally paid attention to them. They were always there. But even they’re being bred out.

 

We’re all going to be one people at one time in the distant future. Hopefully that will be the end of racism. Maybe that’s one way we could look positively at that. How can you be racist against yourself? But then again, there’s a lot of people who do that as well. There are a lot of Native people who are racist against Native people.

 

I saw a really pretty student film at the Vancouver Film School. It was about two triangles that were walking down the street, one triangle was yellow the other triangle was purple, and they saw a purple rectangle. Right away they got angry and they held the rectangle down while one of them went and got a chain saw, came back, and turned it into a purple triangle. Then the two purple triangles turned around and looked at the yellow triangle and weren’t happy. So when does it end?

 

I think that’s where animation really will help. It’s an old technology; it’s been around for a long time now. There was a time when a lot of people that animated were concerned about the content, they always had to be safe. Now people want to express themselves, so there are a lot more messages out there. And with aboriginal filmmakers, and the National Geographic channel and the Cartoon Network, we have all of these ideas being expressed for the first time.

 

 

LS:
Other kids, especially in the white culture, don’t have grandfathers who are role models, they don’t have mentors, they don’t really have a culture, but they’re going through the same process of growing up. What could you tell them to look for, what can help them get through that trial period?

 

SJ:

The trial period, that’s very tough. I think honoring has a lot to do with growth. Native people are taught from very young to honor our elders, to respect our elders. I was a firm fighter against that because a lot of my elders proved they should not be respected or honored at all, and that respect is definitely earned.

 

My grandfather and my grandmother earned my respect. But I’ve met a lot of elders who should be disrespected (laughs)… really!… because they continued with their victimization. When I found out that a lot of the people whom we were told to respect were hurting their own grandchildren and children in ways that they shouldn’t, that’s when I started to second guess the whole notion of honoring the elders.

 

Definitely finding a mentor is what the children should do today. Here I go telling you I don’t like hearing it, and now I’m about to say it: I am now and have been drug and alcohol free for a very long time. And it isn’t that I’m trying to jump in front of a camera and get some special kind of credit, it was just a personal choice. It didn’t fit my career; it didn’t fit my lifestyle. My father is an alcoholic, my mother was an alcoholic, and I didn’t want to follow in their path.

 

When I had no mentorship, no male or man teaching me, my grandfather stepped in and took the position. My father was never around, my uncles were too busy with commercial fishing or raising their own children to focus on this young boy that had nothing. And all of my cousins at that age were girls, so I had no maleness around me. I think even my mother was concerned that I’d become too feminine (laughs). So my grandfather stepped in, took me under his wing.

 

Most of my mother’s family will tell you that I was his favorite, and I kept trying to think of why. I finally came to the conclusion that it was because I was there, and there was no other reason. I wasn’t a straight-A student. I wasn’t born with special, magical powers. I was just there on his birthday, at Christmas, on Sunday mornings, every weekend. When I rode my bike and scraped my knee, he was there to help me.

 

I think it was fitting that I was the only one of the family there when he died. I was in the room with him. I tried my best to save him, despite the doctors and nurses being there. I was also there with my favorite uncle. My uncle looked at me in a strange way, unable to speak, and I yelled for my aunt to come now, and two minutes later he died. And everyone looked at me in the room and said, “How did you know?” Well, you love a man that much and you know. I guess it goes back to listening and paying attention a little bit more than other people. Those were probably the two hardest times in my life. I know I’m probably destined for a lot more (laughs) because I have a large family.

 

 

LS:

Well, it’s service. You do a great service when you can do that for someone.

 

SJ:

You know fathers’ have a difficult time telling their sons’ how proud of them they are, and my father is definitely one of those people. But every so often I get a shock. I was 18 when he handed me a book called “Letters to My Son.” He had tears in his eyes when he handed it to me and said, “You are already ten times more of a man than I’ll ever be in my entire life. When you read this book you’ll understand.” And I read that book and I think I’ve bought 8 more copies because I keep giving them away.

 

It’s about a man who, uh… a young man who started this job in a factory because his wife was pregnant. He sat beside an old man on the manufacturing line — they were both inspectors or something — and he looks across at the old man and says, “So, you like your work?” And he’s like, “No.” “Well, how long you been here for?” And he says, “20 years.” He says, “Well, why are you still here?” “13 more years I get my pension.” So he stood up and said, “Thank you,” and walked out: quit. (laughs) “There’s no way I’m going to spend 40 years here waiting for my pension!” So he quit, and he went home and wrote this book, “Letters to My Son,” just in case he didn’t make it, to teach his son these lessons. And he taught the difference between maleness and manhood.

 

I’ve probably known three men in my entire life, so far. The rest are just males. When you watch these football games where these guys are out there drinking beers and tossing people around, they’re a bunch of males. They don’t know what it’s like to be a man yet.

 

I have a friend who drives a truck professionally. His wife doesn’t work. He drives sometimes 24 hours a day, sleeps on the ferry or sleeps in the truck. Works through Christmas and drives through blizzards so he can support his two daughters and his wife. Quit smoking and drinking because his wife had a heart attack.

 

That, to me, is a man: a man who can make the decision to save his family. And yet he’s entirely happy with everything he does. He owns his own truck; he owns his own house. He goes home twice a week to see his wife, and absolutely loves her. That’s a man. I had one uncle and my grandfather. That’s about it so far!