 Hello, how are you Tukashila? Thank you for the brain that you left me, Tukashila. I'll use it with respect today, Tukashila. Oh, my name is Seitan Sapa. I got that Indian name from my grandfather in Standing Buffalo, and I got the name before I was born, and that's 70 years ago. And my other name is Clayton Paul Episcano. And I used to use Clayton before, and I still use it today, but I found out it wasn't my name. So I started traveling about, I don't know, 20 years ago, and I had to get a passport, and I had to change my name because my name wasn't Clayton, and it's Clayton Paul. So I go by Clayton yet, but I have to use Paul to sign things. So that's where I am today. I was born in Fort Capel 70 years ago, and so I'm gonna talk honestly. I have nothing to hide. I was born in Fort Capel, I said that, I think. And as far back as I could remember, I was, we lived in a mud shack. My dad was very proud of building a mud shack. I lived with him there, and I could remember something from when I was about five years old, and it's about my dad when he was hunting. He was hunting deer, and he bring back a deer. And our mud shack had rafters on, and he bring the deer inside. And I was sitting on a floor, and it was in the wintertime, and we had it warm inside the house. And so there was a lot of steam when they opened the door. And I remember that steam as they opened the door, it's coming in, and it wasn't a very big house. And I was trying to run away from the steam, and it was coming in, coming in, and then it just kind of covered me up. And I remember that, and then I remember them bringing in a deer, and they skint it in the house, and they bring some kind of a tub in, and they put the blood in there, and all whatever they took out of the deer. So those are one of the things I remember when I was about five, maybe. And then I started, I guess they started thinking of me going to school. But it wasn't the way it was, it didn't work out the way I thought it was at that time. I didn't realize I had to leave my mom and dad. But anyway, when I turned six, this guy came, he came to, they call him the Indian agent, and he'd come and talk to my dad. And I was sitting by my dad, and I was holding my dad's leg. I had my hand on my dad's leg, and we sat there, and as this guy talked, he said, you know, Paul, that's my dad's name. Paul, we're going to have to, you're going to have to decide whether if you want this new house, because your kids can't sleep in this house. They can't live in this house anymore. It's not healthy. So I was listening, and I was sitting there, and my dad didn't know what to say, and he refused, and he said, no, I don't want my kids going to that school. And I thought, oh man, what's cool? But anyway, this is what it was about, going to residential school. And he said, the guy that was there that came, the Indian agent, he said, well, Paul, I'm going to give you the week. I'll be back next week, and you decide. So I was thinking, oh, my dad won't let me go. And I was also six years old. And so anyway, next week it came pretty fast, and the guy came back, and he asked my dad, and my dad said, no, well, you know, Paul, we're going to have to take your kids, because they can't stay here anymore. It's not healthy. And my dad said, well, I built this house for them. I built that other house for them. Why can't we stay here? Well, you have to have different living quarters, because the kids need that. So it was a kind of a catch-22. And so my dad said, okay, then I'll take them. So he took us to, took me to residential school in Labrette. And it was really hard leaving my mom and my dad at six years old, not knowing how to live yet quite in this world that they put me in. And so, you know, I was lonely, and I cried a lot. The first thing that they, when my dad, when my mom and them were going, they were leaving to go home. The first thing that the person that took us grabbed me by the year and by the hair, I had long hair, and pulled me in the direction that she was going. And I went with her, and I could see my mom and them going out the other door, and I was waving, and I was crying, and I didn't want to stay. So I stayed, and I was forced to stay. And I never really learned anything. I was there for three years. I never really learned anything. I learned how to hate. I learned how to be afraid of people, especially white people. And there were so many things that I didn't like about it, but there was nothing I can do. So anyway, I stayed for three years, and my dad got me out. He said, no, you don't want to, you can't go back. I don't want you to go back there. So I stayed home, and I started going to day school. And I went for, I don't know, until grade eight, I think, or something like that. But it was the same in day school. It was, I remember the teacher that used to be there, him and his wife, and the teacher tried to make me listen to him, which was the same as residential school. It was the authority that I didn't like the way they told us to do things. But I got the strap at day school, and then I quit. I got my grade eight, and I quit. And then I went back to school for my grade 10 and 11, upgrading. So I have a grade 11. And so that was it for residential school. And then at, I think at ten years old, I started, I mean, my friends, we went sliding in about January. And my friends bring a gallon of wine, which was, they wanted me to try it. And so I was a kind of a leader, and I picked it up, and I tried it. And it was awesome. It was, it was something that I never did before in my 10 years being here on dessert. So it was a big change in my life. And I didn't start drinking right away. I waited till I was 15, and then I started drinking. I really started. And I drank for 27 years, and I learned how to do a lot of crazy things. And so I had to fix that. And I drank myself to a standstill. It was, my mind couldn't work anymore when I quit. And I couldn't express myself. And I hated authority. I got thrown in jail for doing crazy stuff. And I drove while I was drunk. And I got thrown in jail for that. I drove for 12 years without a license. And I kept going in jail, paying fines, going in jail. And then finally I got into, I mowed away from the reserve. There was a lot of things happening on reserve, and my brother got killed. My dad killed my brother, and they didn't like each other. So the fight ended with my brother getting killed. And I also had six brothers before that, while he was one of them. And I got killed. And they all died of alcohol. And my dad really felt bad that he lost his sons. And so I m the I m the seventh son. I lived this long. I pulled through. I also changed a lot of things in my life, for my family. I quit drinking in 1990. I met this beautiful woman. And I had two wives. I met, I had three kids from the first one. She had two miscarriages. And we had three kids. We had five altogether. But anyway, I met this lady in 1986. And she almost taught me a different way of living. So I got into the AA program. After all that drinking of 27 years of drinking, all I learned from that was violence and intimidation and manipulation. So I quit in 1990, April 15, 1990. And then I went back in May 19, after a wedding, I went back drinking. And I drank till May, June, July, July the 20th, July the 15th. I quit again in 1990. And August, I quit. August 29th, I went back to the AA program. And I never drank since. And then my life started changing. I created a job. I worked for nine years on building basements for the city of Regina. And then I was going to move. I took my family and we moved to BC in 1978. And my son got hurt in BC. They dropped him on his head from a stairs. And so I told him, I said, I got to move back to Saskatchewan. And I moved over there just because I had an impaired charge and it was a very stupid idea. But at that time I wasn't making very good decisions with my mind. So anyway, we moved back and it just so happened that there was a job at the city of Regina that I put my name in for and I got it. And I was still drinking. And I drank till 1990, like I said. And I got this job and I held a job for 32 years. And it was an awesome job. I didn't want to stay there. I didn't like the people that I worked with. And I thought I'd just stop and get out of there. But it just so happened, my boss called me back and said, Clayton, we need you back here. You've got to come back. And that was a month after I quit, I thought. But I went back and I stayed for 33 years. So, you know, them wanting me back and creating this, needing me was a difference in my mind. It started changing my mind. And there was no anger. Well, it was still anger, but the anger was going away and the fear and the hate. And I started working with the white guys that I was with. And I started accepting. And so I worked. They made it comfortable for me because I told them I was in residential school. And they gave me my own shop. They gave me my own trucks. And they gave me my own tools. And it was nice. You know, just by speaking up when I spoke up, I told them that I went to residential school and I hated authority. That's why I couldn't get along with other people. So, I worked there for 33 years and then I retired. And this is where I am today. I retired about three years ago. And my wife died about two years ago. And it was the biggest loss in my life that I ever had. There was a lot of things because I was sober. It created a lot of emotions that I had. I didn't realize. And the sadness was the biggest one. And I'm still dealing with that sadness. I now work at the Correctional Center, Regina Correctional Center. And it makes a whole different mind change for me. I didn't know I had the ability to be able to talk to people and tell them my life story. And it would match up with some of theirs. So, that's where I am with this life. I use a little bit of traditional values like the pipe and the smudge. I make my own tobacco and pick a few medicines that I know. And I try to make things happen in my mind so that I could change my thought pattern, which is the grieving that I'm going through right now. So, yes, AA helped me out a lot. My upbringing as a child, I could go back to when I first learned how to love when I was a kid. My dad gave me eight horses when I was eight years old. At eight years old, he gave me five horses. And that created a love and some kind of understanding about caring about other things. And, you know, I still have that caring thing inside of me. And AA reinforced the emotions that I have today. So, you know, drinking didn't really make a difference for me. I'm able to talk. I'm able to talk at the jail with the guys that are there. And that makes a difference. They understand me where I come from.