Jared's Writing - Justice for Jared

 
Jared's Words
 

Before Jared's murder by the colonial state he was doing the work to reclaim his territories, to create homes for his community, to undo the violences inflicted by the brutal institutions of canada.
 
He also knew the RCMP would murder him and wrote about this months before his death.
 
Here are some of his writings.

Letter from Jared to his Lawyer

My letter to the Supreme Court, Print Media and Social media

January 29, 2021 at 9:52:35 AM PST

My name is Jared Lowndes, I’m First Nations and the RCMP is going to kill me.
 
I was recently in the Supreme Court of Vancouver. I was falsely charged with various offences, which I vehemently deny.
During the process, I was assaulted by several VPD officers, I was forced to be naked outside. They threatened myself and my family. I was repeatedly forced to speak with police against my will. I had requested a lawyer which was completely ignored.
The jail guards deprived me of food, blankets and access to showers for 5 days.
I was sent to North Fraser Pretrial. Here I was deprived of food and sleep for NINE days. I was stripped naked and left in an empty box with nothing. They banged on my door every 15 minutes and blasted Punjabi music to ensure we could not sleep.
 
In 1904 The Supreme Court of Vancouver colluded with a mining company in an attempt to steal my great great great grandfathers land, his name is Jean Baptiste and after attending court he said, “there is no truth, or justice for my people in that court”
 
This still rings true 116 years later. I was repeatedly told through my court process that the truth doesn’t matter and no one cares or wanted to listen to what I have to say.
 
Well I will not be bullied, I will stand up to injustice. That’s what is happening here and I’m ready to die for what I believe in.
I will not appear before the court or answer any summons until charges are laid against the various officers and jail staff that inflicted actual crimes against me.
 
Should the courts send officers with a warrant, I will respond with deadly force. I am prepared and waiting. I am not hiding, I am not running.
I will continue to raise my children, prepare work and do good in my community.
 
So kill me if you must, like you have so many of my relatives and people before me, it won’t change the fact there needs to be serious reform in the criminal justice system. How can anyone uphold the law without being held to a higher standard of law?
 
Should the officers and jail guards be charged and arrested, I will appear for a new trial, one with a Jury like I requested and not presided over by a judge that will so nonchalantly cover up police crimes.
 

My Indigenous Family History 1904-2021+

One of the last things Jared would write not long before the police shot and killed him

January 29, 2021 at 9:52:35 AM PST

John Baptiste settled in northern British Columbia in 1904. He picked a spot north of Lake Tyhee, next to his brother Tyhee Davidson. Tyhee means chief in my language, and was incorrectly assumed to be my great great uncles first name.
 
John spent the next 3 years working the land with his children, building homes, a church and clearing fields to farm. Then in 1907, a mining company enlisted the help of the Supreme Court of Vancouver and the RCMP to steal my grandfathers land.
They were successful.
 
John spent the next 15 years working and saving every penny he earned so that he could buy his own land back.
He succeeded in 1922 and purchased the land. However the Indian Agent and RCMP decided that he couldn’t own the land. So they gathered a posse and attempted to force my grandfather and his family from the land.
 
My grandfather picked up his rifle and said, “If you want my land, you’ll have to kill me”
He walked the line, and had a stand off with the RCMP and Indian agents for 39 days before they finally agreed to leave him the land, only after designating the land reservation land, so that my grandfather could never profit from the land.
 
100 years later John’s descendants from his first and second wife still live on the land he fought for.
People still try to steal the land and to this day they are stealing from the land.
 
1930-1970s 
 
The RCMP, Canadian Military and Indian agents would abduct the children at gun point, and quite literally drag them screaming from their homes. Children as young as 4 placed alone in a packed train to shipped off the residential schools.
 
The indigenous men and woman kidnapped, raped, tortured and murdered by the rcmp, Vancouver police, truckers will never be counted, it took over 100 years for anyone to care, no one is even trying to count.
 
They experimented on, sterilized and dehumanized First Nations people.
 
My mother was born in 1965 and raised by my great grandma Ester Holland(b.1901), John Baptiste’s daughter.
 
Ester would move to the Jean Baptiste(government spelled incorrectly) reservation in 1970 because the government was attempting to take the land away once again.
 
Ester, and Josh Holland would raise my mother in a 20x12, 1 room cabin with nothing but a wood stove and no insulation over the next 5 years.
 
A miracle they didn’t freeze at the -40 temperatures.
 
The Indian agents and RCMP would hunt my mother and many other indigenous children throughout the 1970s
 
My mother would know to run and hide when the green car was coming up the road. She would run into the forest, and find spots to hide under brush and under fallen trees. She would sit quiet for hours, often falling asleep in her hiding spot.
 
I was born in 1983 to my First Nations mother and Caucasian father. My skin came out light, a little too light. I wouldn’t be accepted, the hate and hurt was still too much, too soon for my family. So my mother did the only thing she could think of to protect me. She ran.
 
She was 19, with a baby in tow, she went for the big city, somewhere we would be safe. We moved to East Vancouver, in the 1980s, we unwittingly moved directly into Robert Picktons hunting grounds.
 
I wouldn’t truly understand my mothers fears of being a First Nations woman until many decades later.
 
1984
 
The Social Workers and Vancouver police show up, they have learned a brown woman has a white looking child and are investigating.
 
They talk in front of me, not knowing my mother has taught me to read, write, I know my mothers name, phone number and most major bus routes through the city by the age of 4. Not all children don’t pay attention.
 
They decide for me, on the spot that it would be in my best interest if they could get me to a white family to be “raised” properly.
 
I was taken from my mother at gun point, and brought across the city to a foster home. A couple who couldn’t have their own children, so they decided to try the government sponsored child abduction program.
 
I was terrified, I had been kidnapped, so I lashed out and started vandalizing the home I was in.
 
The male attempted to stop me, he did so nonviolently and talked to me, asked me why I was doing this.
 
I explained I had been kidnapped, and was being held against my will.
He told me I could leave if I wanted to.
He gave me bus fare and had me explain my route home. I gave him my mothers phone number, he called and confirmed I had ridden the 3 busses I needed to get back to my mother.
 
I still recall the look of surprise, pride and happiness on her face when I walked in that door.
She cried and she cried, not because I was back, but because she knew they were coming for me.
She was right and it was the last time I’d ever see my mother proud of me.
 
I was taken many more times over the next 9 years by my social workers. I would be placed in group homes, foster homes and even worse.
 
1990 
 
I was placed in two places, that they are now covering up and attempting to call “assessment centres”
 
Eileen Corbit and Ester Erwin.
 
These places are what the Canadian government learned from the residential school system.
 
We were placed in a group compound, often 2-4 per room. We were never allowed outside or to leave unless directly accompanied by a staff.
 
We attended school on the property.
 
The staff would go on to violently abuse the children.
I was personally hit if I talked back, if I didn’t eat, if I didn’t get out of bed exactly when told.
I was locked in a cabinet for days at a time.
I was sexually abused by the male doctor and a female coordinator.
I saw children beaten in front of us to teach a lesson to the rest of us.
 
The lessons the government learned from these places were directly applied to the youth correction system.
Youth Detention Centre(YDC) eventually changed to Youth Corrections Centre(YCC) in Burnaby B.C. Is one example, while here, my brother I noticed they have the exact same systems in place as Ester Erwin did, down to the naming for the programs.
 
They experimented on us, in an attempt to learn how to control us, make us complacent.
 
They failed.
 
1995
 
I was sent to a group home, where I defended myself from abuse and I was charged with assault.
 
They sent me to a foster home, in Abbotsford, where again I defended myself from abuse and was once again charged with assault.
 
1996
 
I’m released from jail, at 13 years old and the ministry tells me they can no longer “help” me
 
I’m left homeless, no money, and unable to retrieve anything from the last place I was able to stay.
 
Great job protecting me from my mother guys. Thank you Canada.
 
I spent the next 16 years drinking, doing drugs and wasting my life away because I thought I wasn’t worth it. I thought I needed to be ashamed and hide my pain.
 
I can’t form any bonds with people to this day.
 
I’m now in my late 30s, and my daughter, dog and I are homeless, living out of my car. All because I can’t trust. The police, doctors, social workers should have kept me safe.
 
I’ve done everything in my power to make sure my children don’t have to suffer or experience anything like I did. I’ve been sober and quit partying 8 years ago.
 
My children have never seen me raise my voice or lift my hand in anger.
They don’t understand racism or why people are treated differently for looking different.
 
However I’m scared, I’m failing and I don’t know if I can overcome my own trauma to succeed for them.
Even if I do, it seems no one wants us around and we have nowhere to go.
 
My band agreed that my children and I could build on John’s land. We invested our meagre savings into buying tools, working the land and preparing to build a home ourselves.
 
We started getting hassled by the people stealing from our land, showing up all hours of the day and night threatening us, attempting to burn down our work and stealing our tools.
 
They’ve left messages threatening to kill my children, and burn down our homes.
 
The RCMP showed up and hassled US and allowed the theft of our equipment.
 
The RCMP are still subjugating first nations people. They must be disbanded and replaced with a new police force that’s trained correctly and held to a higher standard of law.
 
My daughter, dog and I are now broke, and homeless, left to wander until our car breaks down.