Right as Raine
A Circle of Life
Sgt. Leo A. Salinas, HEADQUARTERS MARINE CORPS, Washington
Thunderstorms ruin picnics not powwows, not for the tribes gathered in Alberta, Canada. Powwows celebrate life – things like culture, heritage and tradition. Things like rain.
A mix of mud and manure give a fresh farm smell as security staff wearing reflective orange vests police a lot next to an outdoor rodeo arena. People congest outside an adjacent, boxy building and funnel inside. Rusty aluminum siding and hazy windows house the indoor arena, but only the concrete benches and outside smell tracked inside give the impression that rodeos are held here.
There’s no big rush. This will kick off whenever the tribes feel like it.
Gang colors and Old English lettering on jackets mix in with colorful native costumes. Some costumes have bright colors with feathers; some have long glasslike skirts. Beads and bells adorn almost every outfit.
The music starts. High-pitched wailing accompanies a steady, smooth drum beat played by six or seven groups. Each group huddles around its drum. A boom operator walks to each drum and holds a microphone on a fish pole. The sound is loud enough, and the microphone only amplifies it to roaring levels.
The beat finds a nice place, and the rhythm stays burrowed in everyone’s chest. The drumming is a competition of sorts, and although the music sounds the same, a few subtle differences separate the musicians from the drummer boys.
Costumed natives slowly form a snakelike chain of colorful characters. A nondescript elder in blue jeans and a black jacket leads the procession. He holds something that resembles a shepherd’s crook adorned with feathers. This is the Eagle Staff, carried in the Plains Cree tribe from a high-honored position. Little does Sgt. Blaine Raine know, he’s holding it next.
The First Right
Raine’s path to the eagle staff starts on a farm in Hoboma, Alberta, Canada, where wheat fields for miles around offer little else to view. The family had cows and horses, and Raine had standard farm chores. This didn’t really interest him.
In the winters, Raine and his brother and two sisters would build snow tunnels throughout the farm, skate on ice ponds and ride snowmobiles. This didn’t really interest him. Neither did riding horses in the local rodeo and participating in powwows.
“We lived it, but I never embraced it as kid,” he said.
Raine was interested in sports, primarily hockey.
“Everybody here in America plays baseball; in Canada it’s hockey,” he said.
Sport was Raine’s way to excel beyond the ills of reservation life where alcoholism and gangs spread like cancer. Since as early as 4 years old, Raine remembers his father’s encouragement. He remembers his father pushing him around the local ice rink, the Four Nations Arena.
Floyd Henry Raine also encouraged his children to excel in education.
“He wanted us to experience the world and to have something to fall back on,” Raine said. “He wanted us to go to school – not just to show up, but to go to school and learn.”
Floyd Henry served in the Canadian military and was a tribal policeman, so his children naturally received a well-disciplined upbringing.
“He wasn’t doing it where we had morning inspections, but he instilled discipline,” Raine said. “There was a hand to the backside, but he didn’t put out a pipe, wrench or belt and say choose.”
Floyd Henry got involved in tribal politics, running for tribal council leader. This inspired Raine to take interest in his community – maybe, possibly, being a council leader himself one day.
“I wanted to be like my dad, follow in his footsteps,” he said. “How does the saying go? ‘The father in the eyes of a kid is a hero?’”
In 1984, Raine’s parents enrolled him and his two sisters in St. Augustine Secondary School in Ponoka, Alberta, off the reservation. This opened Raine to more opportunities, and introduced him to another role model.
“My fourth-grade teacher was pretty cool,” he said. “She believed in everybody there. She cared.”
The new Catholic school was predominately white, and relations between whites and natives were not on the best terms, said Raine. This was a dramatic change from school on the reservation, but his teacher taught an invaluable life lesson: Never give up.
“In a way, she challenged,” he said. “She encouraged potential to come out of students.”
Raine’s education of life and the world continued. In 1990, with exceptional hockey skills, he was sent to Athol Murray College of Notre Dame.
The boarding school was – “in the middle of nowhere” – and an eight-hour drive from the reservation, said Raine. However, this gave the 16-year-old the chance to focus on hockey and homework.
Raine was relatively young in his hockey life, but he liked playing and came from a family of rabid Edmonton Oilers fans. When he played on the reservation, he played with kids two-years his elder. He was good, and his play on the ice was opening doors.
Suddenly, the hockey blood coursing his veins encountered a strange transfusion: lacrosse.
The Second Right
“As one would say, ‘Something happened on the way to heaven,’ I picked up lacrosse,” said Raine.
High school was pretty normal for Raine. His hobbies were homework and exercise. He still faced racial demons as a native in a predominantly white school, but sport was the great equalizer.
Passing by a field one day, Raine saw lacrosse players practicing. He began to mimic the actions of the players and soon thought to himself, “Hey, I can do this,” he said.
“Lacrosse was the one thing that was me,” said Raine. “I pursued it on my own. My parents did not push me to it; they encouraged hockey.”
After attending one of the team’s open tryouts, the team coach told Raine he saw potential and wanted to keep him around.
“After that, I told myself I will bust my *** for this guy,” said Raine.
The coach introduced Raine to another good player with whom Raine shared a common bond: He was a native. Adam Thompson, a Mohawk, gave Raine valuable knowledge that would not only make him a good lacrosse player for the team, but good enough to make the Under-19 Canadian Lacrosse team only eight months after trying out for the high school team.
During games, players from opposing teams made racist comments, making the pressure to play a heavy burden on Raine.
“I called my mom and dad and told them that I wanted to quit,” he said. He then hung up the phone, thought about what he said and called back. “I called them again 10 minutes later and told them I’m going to stick it out.”
Never again would Raine let something get in the way of his goals.
“I think that was one of the smartest things I’d ever done,” he said.
As Raine excelled in lacrosse, his parents told him how lacrosse was originally a native sport. He learned that natives made lacrosse sticks out of tree branches. As he got more experienced, he was told stories about his great grandfather who played the sport the old way.
After high school, Raine wanted to play lacrosse in college. However, finding the right school was a rough process. In 1993, he applied to the University of Denver. Everything seemed to be in order, but suddenly the phone stopped ringing. The university’s lacrosse team coach had just been fired and left Raine’s paperwork open to fate.
Raine waited until he felt his opportunity wasn’t coming. He moved on.
Raine played in Ontario for the Six Nations Arrows, a native-sponsored lacrosse team. Room and board were free and it offered Raine a chance to keep playing.
One of the players on the Arrows also played for Carnisius College in Buffalo, N.Y. The coach from the college came to see one of the Arrow’s games, saw Raine and asked if he would like to play college lacrosse.
Raine took this opportunity to not only play, but to also prove that he could play Division I lacrosse. He would also be the first person in his family to go to college. He did this to honor his father, and chose elementary education as a major to honor his fourth-grade teacher.
“The reason why I’m here is because of my teachers,” said Raine. “I want to be that person that gives the knowledge; I want to be that person that helps the kid that everybody has written off.”
(cont. below.....)
A Circle of Life
Sgt. Leo A. Salinas, HEADQUARTERS MARINE CORPS, Washington
Thunderstorms ruin picnics not powwows, not for the tribes gathered in Alberta, Canada. Powwows celebrate life – things like culture, heritage and tradition. Things like rain.
A mix of mud and manure give a fresh farm smell as security staff wearing reflective orange vests police a lot next to an outdoor rodeo arena. People congest outside an adjacent, boxy building and funnel inside. Rusty aluminum siding and hazy windows house the indoor arena, but only the concrete benches and outside smell tracked inside give the impression that rodeos are held here.
There’s no big rush. This will kick off whenever the tribes feel like it.
Gang colors and Old English lettering on jackets mix in with colorful native costumes. Some costumes have bright colors with feathers; some have long glasslike skirts. Beads and bells adorn almost every outfit.
The music starts. High-pitched wailing accompanies a steady, smooth drum beat played by six or seven groups. Each group huddles around its drum. A boom operator walks to each drum and holds a microphone on a fish pole. The sound is loud enough, and the microphone only amplifies it to roaring levels.
The beat finds a nice place, and the rhythm stays burrowed in everyone’s chest. The drumming is a competition of sorts, and although the music sounds the same, a few subtle differences separate the musicians from the drummer boys.
Costumed natives slowly form a snakelike chain of colorful characters. A nondescript elder in blue jeans and a black jacket leads the procession. He holds something that resembles a shepherd’s crook adorned with feathers. This is the Eagle Staff, carried in the Plains Cree tribe from a high-honored position. Little does Sgt. Blaine Raine know, he’s holding it next.
The First Right
Raine’s path to the eagle staff starts on a farm in Hoboma, Alberta, Canada, where wheat fields for miles around offer little else to view. The family had cows and horses, and Raine had standard farm chores. This didn’t really interest him.
In the winters, Raine and his brother and two sisters would build snow tunnels throughout the farm, skate on ice ponds and ride snowmobiles. This didn’t really interest him. Neither did riding horses in the local rodeo and participating in powwows.
“We lived it, but I never embraced it as kid,” he said.
Raine was interested in sports, primarily hockey.
“Everybody here in America plays baseball; in Canada it’s hockey,” he said.
Sport was Raine’s way to excel beyond the ills of reservation life where alcoholism and gangs spread like cancer. Since as early as 4 years old, Raine remembers his father’s encouragement. He remembers his father pushing him around the local ice rink, the Four Nations Arena.
Floyd Henry Raine also encouraged his children to excel in education.
“He wanted us to experience the world and to have something to fall back on,” Raine said. “He wanted us to go to school – not just to show up, but to go to school and learn.”
Floyd Henry served in the Canadian military and was a tribal policeman, so his children naturally received a well-disciplined upbringing.
“He wasn’t doing it where we had morning inspections, but he instilled discipline,” Raine said. “There was a hand to the backside, but he didn’t put out a pipe, wrench or belt and say choose.”
Floyd Henry got involved in tribal politics, running for tribal council leader. This inspired Raine to take interest in his community – maybe, possibly, being a council leader himself one day.
“I wanted to be like my dad, follow in his footsteps,” he said. “How does the saying go? ‘The father in the eyes of a kid is a hero?’”
In 1984, Raine’s parents enrolled him and his two sisters in St. Augustine Secondary School in Ponoka, Alberta, off the reservation. This opened Raine to more opportunities, and introduced him to another role model.
“My fourth-grade teacher was pretty cool,” he said. “She believed in everybody there. She cared.”
The new Catholic school was predominately white, and relations between whites and natives were not on the best terms, said Raine. This was a dramatic change from school on the reservation, but his teacher taught an invaluable life lesson: Never give up.
“In a way, she challenged,” he said. “She encouraged potential to come out of students.”
Raine’s education of life and the world continued. In 1990, with exceptional hockey skills, he was sent to Athol Murray College of Notre Dame.
The boarding school was – “in the middle of nowhere” – and an eight-hour drive from the reservation, said Raine. However, this gave the 16-year-old the chance to focus on hockey and homework.
Raine was relatively young in his hockey life, but he liked playing and came from a family of rabid Edmonton Oilers fans. When he played on the reservation, he played with kids two-years his elder. He was good, and his play on the ice was opening doors.
Suddenly, the hockey blood coursing his veins encountered a strange transfusion: lacrosse.
The Second Right
“As one would say, ‘Something happened on the way to heaven,’ I picked up lacrosse,” said Raine.
High school was pretty normal for Raine. His hobbies were homework and exercise. He still faced racial demons as a native in a predominantly white school, but sport was the great equalizer.
Passing by a field one day, Raine saw lacrosse players practicing. He began to mimic the actions of the players and soon thought to himself, “Hey, I can do this,” he said.
“Lacrosse was the one thing that was me,” said Raine. “I pursued it on my own. My parents did not push me to it; they encouraged hockey.”
After attending one of the team’s open tryouts, the team coach told Raine he saw potential and wanted to keep him around.
“After that, I told myself I will bust my *** for this guy,” said Raine.
The coach introduced Raine to another good player with whom Raine shared a common bond: He was a native. Adam Thompson, a Mohawk, gave Raine valuable knowledge that would not only make him a good lacrosse player for the team, but good enough to make the Under-19 Canadian Lacrosse team only eight months after trying out for the high school team.
During games, players from opposing teams made racist comments, making the pressure to play a heavy burden on Raine.
“I called my mom and dad and told them that I wanted to quit,” he said. He then hung up the phone, thought about what he said and called back. “I called them again 10 minutes later and told them I’m going to stick it out.”
Never again would Raine let something get in the way of his goals.
“I think that was one of the smartest things I’d ever done,” he said.
As Raine excelled in lacrosse, his parents told him how lacrosse was originally a native sport. He learned that natives made lacrosse sticks out of tree branches. As he got more experienced, he was told stories about his great grandfather who played the sport the old way.
After high school, Raine wanted to play lacrosse in college. However, finding the right school was a rough process. In 1993, he applied to the University of Denver. Everything seemed to be in order, but suddenly the phone stopped ringing. The university’s lacrosse team coach had just been fired and left Raine’s paperwork open to fate.
Raine waited until he felt his opportunity wasn’t coming. He moved on.
Raine played in Ontario for the Six Nations Arrows, a native-sponsored lacrosse team. Room and board were free and it offered Raine a chance to keep playing.
One of the players on the Arrows also played for Carnisius College in Buffalo, N.Y. The coach from the college came to see one of the Arrow’s games, saw Raine and asked if he would like to play college lacrosse.
Raine took this opportunity to not only play, but to also prove that he could play Division I lacrosse. He would also be the first person in his family to go to college. He did this to honor his father, and chose elementary education as a major to honor his fourth-grade teacher.
“The reason why I’m here is because of my teachers,” said Raine. “I want to be that person that gives the knowledge; I want to be that person that helps the kid that everybody has written off.”
(cont. below.....)
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