Whose Land is it Anyway?

Forgive me, folks, for I’m about to engage in a bit of a conversation I feel like I’m not really entitled to have… although it’s coming a bit delayed, as I’ve really been trying to piece together my thoughts because I think they’re all a bit jumbly at the moment.

Over the last few months, I have become increasingly disheartened with the events taking place in the United States. No, I’m not talking about the recent presidential election*, but the escalating situation in Standing Rock, North Dakota. I mean, come on, Leo, Mark Ruffalo AND Canada’s boyfriend George Stroumboulopoulos have all been in attendance at one time or another! Sure a “solution” has been found, but how long will that actually last, especially post-January 20, 2017?!

Leading up to Thanksgiving (US), there was a lot of discussion about the irony of the very real, and continuous struggle between North America’s indigenous people, and those who arrived much, much later (white people**!). In fact, many of the issues unfolding in this country have been surrounding insane contradictions, but that’s beside the point.

Anyway, a short documentary was made and released in the days leading up to this holiday. It is powerful, moving, and nothing short of heartbreaking. In my lifetime, I have found myself – more often than I’d ever care to admit – sitting in a room, pondering when, exactly, we started to become differentiated for things we cannot control (race, religion, sexuality, I seriously feel like a FiretrUCKin’ broken record). When did we stop looking at each other as nothing more than a fellow human? And this short film left me feeling the exact same way.

Now, since I originally started working on this post, things have (thankfully) seen some changes. BUT, there’s still a long way to go. The recent “win” at Standing Rock – and I say win in quotes, because it should never have been a battle in the first place! – is only a small stepping stone in a much, MUCH bigger picture. But following the unfolding of this situation, I finally sat down to check out Gord Downie’s recently released film The Secret Path – a CBC production that deals with the tragic happenings of indigenous residential schools in Canada. If you haven’t had a chance to check it out, I recommend you do so. Although, some of you may have difficult accessing it if you happen to be out of the country***.

I’ll be honest, it took a while for me to get into it… mostly because I was pretty tired at the time, but also because I was unable to activate the subtitles. I’m not suggesting you really needs these, but the music is pretty much the key. But on the second attempt, I was thankful I had done so. So, be sure to have the time and correct energy levels before you proceed.

One of the biggest issues I have with Canada**** is the misinformation and complete disregard for our indigenous people. I mean, what the typical Canadian actually knows about the various cultures of each tribe (because they’re not all the same!), is actually pretty limited. I would doubt that many even recognize that in some reservations, the conditions are reminiscent of some of the worst conditions in the so-called developing world (i.e lack of education, potable water sources, and consistent/quality social support services – including (mental) health care!). This is why I’m conflicted about how I felt about this film. Hear me out…

On the one hand, I think it’s great that the beginning of a conversation is at least being attempted. Although, I fear, like so many other important issues, it is more a matter of preaching to the converted, so to speak. But, we Canadian folk, especially of the non-indigenous variety, tend to shy away from discussions about, let alone acknowledging, our original inhabitants. Maybe it makes us uncomfortable because we feel some sense of guilt/responsibility for what our ancestors did in the past, or maybe it’s just plain ignorance. I don’t have the answers here.

Now, on the other hand, it frustrates me that, when we have so many incredible indigenous voices in Canada, it took a dying white man from an iconic Canadian rock band to make it happen. Don’t get me wrong Gord (if I may call him that) has been an advocate for indigenous rights, amongst other things, for a good part of his career. His lyrics are evidence enough of this. But still.

That being said, this is an incredibly powerful 45 minutes or so. There are moments that just captured what I can only imagine to be what that experience might have been like. The contrast between the story at present and the memories of Chanie’s (the boy whose story is being told) past only highlight all of this. The fear. The uncertainty. The feeling of loss. And it’s emotional. There’s no getting around that. That these were (and are) people, taken from their homes, treated with such disregard and abuse, and that they were children no less. It hurts.

But for me, it was the conversations with Gord after the animated sequence that really tied it all together. The heartbreak that is still felt in Chanie’s sister’s voice. Her anger and outrage, covered only by the hope that this project will lead to something positive. That, for me, is something we can all learn something from. And again, the discussions that will hopefully follow this film will only be one smaller step in a much larger fight. A fight for justice. A fight for acceptance. A fight for forgiveness. 

-the Orange Canadian

*But, can I just say how deeply disappointed I am that this is how our beloved-the-world-over President Obama has chosen this as the conclusion of his legacy as the first EVER African American leader of the free world?!

**Yes, I know other races aside from Caucasian have also arrived on our great continent… but if you’re really honest with yourself, you know, deep down, they’re really the issue here. I mean, just look at history…

***I’m amazed, really, that I was able to get it to play!

****Of many, I know! But also, an issue that has been causing me to ponder for a number of years now.

The Importance of a Good Edumacation

It’s approaching 4:30AM. I’ve been up since 1AM due to an attempt at an early and full night’s sleep gone wrong, and also being awoken by a pretty massive overnight rainstorm. But now I’m lost in thoughts, mercilessly scrolling through my Facebook feed, and I’m completely dumbfounded by what I’m reading.

Those of you who might consider yourself regular followers, likely remember a very frustrated rant about my previous time “home” in Canada. Now, it seems, I need to have another lengthy discussion with my beloved home… but a little more narrowed in its direction.

For as long as I can remember Nova Scotia (my home province, which many of you have probably never even heard of…), has struggled to maintain the contracts and considerations of two of the most important jobs in the province: nurses and teachers. Over the years, I have witnessed government after government try to tackle the fickle balance of fair pay and what makes sense, financially (meaning, what the province can afford to spend on these essential services). And, almost every time, the government wins.

Now the business, fiscally responsible side of me, sees, what I hope to be, the government’s point of view. It has to make sure it’s not spending beyond its means. I mean, we’re so far in debt now as it is, it hardly makes sense to continue to grow that amount. BUUUUUTTTTTTT, on the other hand, I appreciate my free education and (basic) healthcare. So, anytime these situations begin to resurface, I become more and more thankful that I am not a member of the government. (Note: the entire teacher's situation is not so much based on money, rather than improved support services that will allow them to provide better education to their students... or at least that's my understanding.)

Recently tensions have been brewing, yet again, between the Province and its teachers. And just like all the other times this situation has surfaced, several people seem to be up in arms about how outrageously overpaid they are (considering they get summers off!), how they don’t care about the children they’re supposed to be educating, and my personal favourite – calling them overpaid babysitters. Now, anyone who has ever gone through the public education system and had at least one good teacher can tell you, this is pretty ridiculous. But, it’s justified because they are threatening to take action. The ‘they’ being the teachers.

When I was in my final year of junior high, this same scenario was taking place. The government at the time was dealing with the headaches of contract negotiations, and they weren’t going as planned. Myself and many of my fellow students decided to take action of our own, and staged a walkout. When the bell rang to start the day, instead of heading inside, we marched to the high school (which was clearly the logical thing to do) in protest. It was my one and only public protest, and likely will remain so, because in all honesty we accomplished nothing except for losing a day of classes and preventing the very people we were trying to support from doing the thing they were fighting to do.

Back to present day. As a form of protest for all the extra time teachers give from their day and away from their families, instead of striking, they made the decision to enact a form of protest known as Work-to-Rule. This means that teachers would arrive at their respective schools, teach their classes, use their free period to prep for the day/week/whatever and correct assignments, etc., without doing anything beyond the minimum. The cost of following through with this is that lunch time extra-help or after school recreational activities would not be attended by the teachers, amongst a much longer list of things that they actually do aside from teach. Makes sense to me. It’s fair. …or at least as fair as this situation provides. I mean, what other public sector position goes beyond the 9-5 hours it boasts? I can’t think of many. Mine certainly didn’t.  

But the Province wasn’t pleased with this. It decided that children would be in harm’s way, and that their safety was important. So, instead of allowing students to attend classes, as usual, and get some amount of education, they decided to close all schools across the province. Oh, but only to the students. Yeah, teachers are still required to report for duty, as usual. And, this is slated to take place until the teachers decide to back down, causing the government to win, yet again. 

The funny thing, is that yes, money is an important issue here, and overspending is bad. BUT, doing this is only hurting the students (you know the tiny folks the government claims to be concerned about!). How is keeping them out of school better than having them in school, with limitations? Yes, I understand the argument of the potential lack of supervision, but surely the myriad of parents who are standing behind these teachers would volunteer an hour or two a week, or any number of community members could just as easily help out.

I get that this is not a simple issue. It’s complex. Like… VERY complex. If the government gives in, then something else has to budge within their jurisdiction. But, is it really fair to ask these individuals – these hardworking, passionate, caring folks to set aside their personal lives, their families, their wellbeing, just to give the government a helping hand?!

In the same way I was thankful to not be a participant in the recent US election, I’m am really glad I am not one of the decision makers behind this difficult, yet troubling situation. If I were, I honestly wouldn’t know where to start. The teachers I have had in my life have directly shaped who I am today. Sure, not all of them were splendid, but the ones who were extraordinary made up for them. And there were many in the latter category. They supported and encouraged me, they helped me hone my creativity and imagination, they challenged my way of thinking and built on my curiosity, and they somehow even made mundane topics interesting (or at least tried to!). I’ve had numerous teachers push me to explore my writing talents (and all pretty much told me to work on my editing skills, which applies just as accurately today!) and chase my then musical dreams. I’ve had teachers come to concerts, fundraisers, and other extracurricular events (and I’m not just talking while I was their student, either). I had the overwhelming experience of having several of my favourite teachers attend my mother’s funeral to support me, even though I hadn’t been their responsibility in years (many, many years!). I had a teacher in high school, who took my passion of “Africa” to a whole new level (as in, more than just the Lion King, or lions more generally!) and is a good part of why I eventually took the direction I’m currently headed on. I even had a teacher who prevented me from making a permanent and desperate decision. Who could have looked the other way, but didn’t. Who got me the help I needed. And every day I have lived since, I am thankful he didn’t let me follow through with that act (even though I hated him for it at the time). Also, my amazing step-dad happens to be a retired teacher…

Teachers are one of the most important and influential people in our young lives. One teacher can change everything. One teacher saved my life, a good number afterwards helped to keep me that way. We can’t give up on them. We can’t treat them as any less important than any other crucial role in society. We need to sort out a compromise. Because without them, that ‘everything’ can quickly become nothing… and we’ll all suffer.

So, I ask that you rally behind these amazing folks. Show them your support. Even if you don’t have children in the system, if you’re from Nova Scotia, you likely were a product of it. Write to your MLA, the media, or the big guy, himself (as in the Premier, not the other big guy!). Tell them this isn’t acceptable. Tell them you want to see change. Tell them a balance, a compromise, needs to be found. And then maybe, we won’t have to go through this ever couple of years. And maybe we’ll reap the benefits down the road, in the form of young, hopeful minds, who are passionate and critical, and can write in cursive writing, with good grammar. We need this.

-the Orange Canadian

Da Lemon 2 My Ginger

Once upon a time, on my first day of classes at the University of Manchester, I sat near, who I thought was, an uber cool* lady. She already had friends around her, and me, a loner at the time, felt like I would never achieve such greatness as being considered her friend too.

It turns out, that after several weeks of wanting to move from classmates to legit friends, it happened, and, one of the most epic friendships ensued. AND, it came in the form of my favourite blonde Brit** - Roller (aka the lemon to my ginger).

...shes' so cool! 

When we parted ways at the end of our program, I feared we might never meet up again, and that, like many great friendships I’ve had over the years, it would always remain in the cyber world. But, alas, the friendship gods granted me the greatest gift – a visit from my dear friend in Kampala***.

I must admit, the lead up to our reunion was filled with excitement and anxiety. It kind of felt like those moments before a first date when you’re waiting to see if the other person will actually show (not that I have any experience with that…). But it was amazing and filled with far less tears than I had prepared for.

The reunion! 

A tennis ball tree! ... actually, it's just a couple of avocados on one of the many
trees on the property were we stayed. Tennis ball trees, obviously aren't real... 

Over the course of the week, we spent time catching up (she’s basically a gossip hound), eating, and working. Well… she worked, I played the role of the awkward third wheel (another thing I obviously know nothing about…).

But we also experienced some really strange things, including:

1. A visit from the monkey birds (because they sound like monkeys – and it took me nearly 6 months of living in Kampala to figure out it was actually a bird making that noise!)

Video credit: Laura "Roller" Dempsey

2. The great ginormous flying cockroach incident (which had an off screen finish that I did NOT see coming!)

3. Early morning visits from monkeys (who knew there were monkeys in Kampala?!)

Video credit: Laura "Roller" Dempsey

4. A midnight serenade by my good friend B-Rok (a.k.a the one and only musical genius Lucky Brian).

Video credit: Laura "Roller" Dempsey

5. Boda chase good-byes (including the ever delightful, Vincent... who happens to be on the market, ladies!!)

Video credit: Laura "Roller" Dempsey

The week went by far too quickly, but hopefully there will be a future opportunity for her to travel back to Uganda soon. I mean, after all, I failed at introducing her to rolex!

-the Orange Canadian

*An assumption I obviously misjudged.

**And no, I’m not talking about Britney Spears.

***Meaning she came to Kampala… she’s not my friend from or living in Kampala.