Big Man, also known as Roy Cardinal, the 51 year-old Cree Metis leader of the encampment, is done talking to the police. As far as he’s concerned they went back on a promise not to raid this camp, and there’s nothing more to talk about.

“Eagle feathers up, boys,” he says to those around him as he raises his grey and white eagle feather wings to the sky.

Three police officers step towards Big Man. Then chaos. Advocates yell, campers raise their hands in surrender, clouds of snow rise from black police boots as they charge a circle of supporters trying to protect Big Man.

That’s when I found myself becoming a part of this story.

I’m filming from about 10 feet away, one of several people covering the sweep, but the only journalist inside the police line. That’s when a police officer singles me out, steps in front of my camera and instructs me to stop doing my job.

Sergeant Amber Maze, a member of the Edmonton Police Service and a former candidate for the right-wing Wildrose Party, makes a beeline for me and says I have to leave the area, and get behind the line of yellow tape they’ve set up more than 40 feet away. Too far away to film, or even really see what was happening.

I’m then grabbed and manhandled, before being cuffed by another officer and led away, paraded like a criminal in front of the TV news cameras. The cuffs were put on wrong, and I can feel a searing pain in my wrist.

I identify myself as a journalist, and state clearly that I have a right to be there. They should be well-aware that high courts in two provinces have found police use of these “exclusion zones” to thwart media coverage of their actions unlawful.

I’m then grabbed and manhandled, before being cuffed by another officer and led away, paraded like a criminal in front of the TV news cameras. The cuffs were put on wrong, and I can feel a searing pain in my wrist.

All I can think about is my five-year-old daughter, who I’m supposed to pick up from kindergarten in a couple of hours. As I’m loaded into a paddy wagon I beg the officers holding me to adjust the cuffs that are causing shooting pain.

That’s when all my resolve broke, like a dam crumbling under the weight of an irresistible force. The shock of what had just happened wore off, and the emotions hit hard.

I sob as they jerk my arms around behind me, trying to loosen the restraints. It doesn’t really help.

There’s no warmth inside that cage. Arms uncomfortably tight behind my back, hearing the screams of the invisible disarray happening down the road, I pray for comfort as hot tears roll down my cheeks.

read more: https://ricochet.media/en/4025/brandi-morin-police-raids-rock-edmonton-as-indigenous-encampment-dismantled