So, there are currently 3 Canada World Youth groups in Ghana right now,
Ghana 1- Women's /exchange. Moncton/Otuam
Ghana 2- Mixed exchange. St. John's/Saltpond (?)
Ghana 3- Mixed exchange. Fredericton/Northern Region (i dont actually know the town)
Ghana 1 is my exchange, lucky, lucky (fuckmylife) me, I'm in an all women's program. Ihavent had a lot of contact with the other two exchanges, especially the Fredericton group, but throught the grapevine, I've heard that each of the groups has problems of their own. none of which i'm really going to talk about, because I'm not sure how reliable the grapevine is, and it would all be speculation. I just wanted to tell anyone from those groups what ours is like, and then you can decide how much your lives suck in compareison. Because as awesome as this experience is (omgitsfuckingamazing), its not without its challenges.
first off, we're all girls. 18 girls. 18 females, all living with eachother, forced to do activities together, building a micro-community together. It can be great, there's so much freedom and a level of comfort that you can only attain in a gender specific group. We have become so close to eachother that we can talk about anything, from sex and penis size, to heartbreak and grief, to diharrea and vomit. In fact, as a group (at least with the canadians) we've got a long running "Thats what she said" joke,and we giggle whenever someone says the words "big" 'hard' or 'juicy'..... you should see us compareing coconuts. lol...anyway, yea so we're tight. but you can imagine the drama and bullshit that comes from 18 super hormonal, estrogen rich, sex deprived, incredibly intelligent ladies. fake friends, talking behind your back, tired of seeing your face, god she's such a spaz, at least i'm not a whore, i hate how much she flirts, that dress is really short, she gave me dirty looks, i dont know why shes mad at me, does she have hickies?, shes such a mooch, can i borrow 1cedi? you owe me 5, she really gets on my nerves, fuck my life. fuck my godforsaken life. Thats our group, that's a large part of our experience with CWY. I'm not gonna lie, it fucking sucks sometimes... you know,when you reach the end of your rope and you just want to slap a bitch? At least one of us gets that feeling each day. but it's all good...it's all cool... cuz somehow, through all the backstabbing, trash talking, gossip fuled days,at the end of the day, we are one big family. Each one of those 17 girls is my sister, and i've come to love her dearly. I go through days wishing i didnt have to see her face, but thinking about it, under what other circumstances would i have had the chance to meet this amazing young woman? and here, not only have we met, but we've cried, laughed, and lived together. We've seen eachother naked and not cared, we've talked about our deepest secerets, our seceret wishes and desires, we sit at the edge of the atlantic ocean, in a completely different world, we trust 100% the girls, even though its hard sometimes. This sisterhood is something that could never be created outside of a CWY context. As much as i whine and complain about this group, i seceretly love all of the girls from the bottom of my heart. I want to go home, to see my friends and family more than anything... but that only means seperating from these wonderful women, possibly never to see some of them again. Makes me want to cry just writing this.
Linda, Zarpa, Zankhna, Ania, Elisa, Laura, Jaz, Steph, Sheba, Grace, Anette, Vicky, Deborah, Bernice, Vivian, Patricia, Nomotey... <3 love love love. And Junie and Lydia too, awesome supervisors (even though we dont always see eye to eye).
xoxoxox
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Obruni, what is your name?
Obruni how are you? Obruni where are you going? Go and come ok....
Every single day, since we arrived in Otuam, people ask me those questions whenever i go out. Mostly little children, who dont know any other english... the same kids everyday go "Obruni what is your name?"... "My name is Janice"... "Chalice?".."No, Jaanice"..."Janet?"... "JAANICCEE".... "Jani?!"..... o_O "Yes, Jani"
I'm starting to get used to it, i feel like a tape recorder, with a script that i have to read and repeat day in and day out. I can walk down the paths "Hello"... "I'm fine"... "afternoon"... "My name is Janice"..."How are you?"..."buh byee" its so predictable that i dont even need to hear the question, one of those statements will most certainly answer anything people ask me. It's funny tho, whenever people ask "How are you?" the answer that we all expect is "I'm fine"... its a combination of not really caring how someone is and here, in otuam, not having a mutually intelligible language to communicate fully. Somebody asks how i am, I'm not going to say "I'm not fine. I'm hot, sweaty, tired, hungry because the stew sucks and i have a million mosquito bites that came out of nowhere. I need a shower, a cup of coffee and a day where the goddamn roosters dont wake me up at 4am, so I'm not fine ok. I'm not fine".... but no, "I'm fine. Just fine thank you. How are you?"..."fine!"
But, in all... I do like it here. Dont think that i hate it or that im complaining... its just that those questions get really old, really fast. and yet, everyday, every. sinlge. day. i have to smile and wave, smile and say im fine, my name is Janice, buh bye... to every person i see on the street.
but i'm learning fante, so the conversations should become more interesting as time goes on.
Every single day, since we arrived in Otuam, people ask me those questions whenever i go out. Mostly little children, who dont know any other english... the same kids everyday go "Obruni what is your name?"... "My name is Janice"... "Chalice?".."No, Jaanice"..."Janet?"... "JAANICCEE".... "Jani?!"..... o_O "Yes, Jani"
I'm starting to get used to it, i feel like a tape recorder, with a script that i have to read and repeat day in and day out. I can walk down the paths "Hello"... "I'm fine"... "afternoon"... "My name is Janice"..."How are you?"..."buh byee" its so predictable that i dont even need to hear the question, one of those statements will most certainly answer anything people ask me. It's funny tho, whenever people ask "How are you?" the answer that we all expect is "I'm fine"... its a combination of not really caring how someone is and here, in otuam, not having a mutually intelligible language to communicate fully. Somebody asks how i am, I'm not going to say "I'm not fine. I'm hot, sweaty, tired, hungry because the stew sucks and i have a million mosquito bites that came out of nowhere. I need a shower, a cup of coffee and a day where the goddamn roosters dont wake me up at 4am, so I'm not fine ok. I'm not fine".... but no, "I'm fine. Just fine thank you. How are you?"..."fine!"
But, in all... I do like it here. Dont think that i hate it or that im complaining... its just that those questions get really old, really fast. and yet, everyday, every. sinlge. day. i have to smile and wave, smile and say im fine, my name is Janice, buh bye... to every person i see on the street.
but i'm learning fante, so the conversations should become more interesting as time goes on.
Monday, December 27, 2010
coconuts are basically my life
I'm so sorry I havent written in a long, long time... it was hard to get on the internet the first few weeks we were here, then i bought a usb modem, which then sat there for another few weeks before i actualy used it (its sooooooo slooooooooow!!!)...
anyway, i'm back and i have soo much to say.. about ghana, about otuam, about my group and myself.... we live in a small village (of 5000 people).. it was really hard for me to imagine what kind of life i would live here... i knew we'd have no running water, i wasnt sure if we would have electricity, which we do. I new most people wouldnt speak english, i think i expected it to be a lot like inuit villages in terms of social structure and community... which it is, and i think that's one of the reasons its so easy for me to make myself part of the community.
the house i'm living at is actually quite nice, its spacious, my host mother, or auntie is the best of the best of the best, she's a single mother living in a house by herself that her late brother owned, and her other brother owns one of the better schools in the village. I live with another counterpart pair, which is great. The Cdn girl is from winnipeg and she's pretty awesome. we sit in my room and eat werthers originals and talk about canadian food, and snow and winter and other stuff we miss. and the two ghanaian girls are so nice to me, they help me so much.
I'll take you through a usual day here, then maybe you'll kind of get the picture.
alarm rings at 5:22am, snooze till about 7, if i got up around 6 i would go out and help my auntie sweep the compound outside, but usually i sleep in till 7, then i get up, sweep the bedroom if my cp hasnt already done it. check the water tank, collect water if need be. We live really close to the well, which is nice. i go to the pump with my buckets, small children fill them for me, everyone speaks fante and all i can understand is "Obruni" so i know they're talking about me... then someone helps me get it on my head and i walk back, leaving a trail of "Obruni how are you" and "Obruni what is your name".... fetching water is no small task. i continue till our big blue tank is filled. then i have breakfast, usualy i pretend to eat whatever porrige we have thatday, i dont like porrige at all, and thats pretty much all we have in the mornings. There's one i call peanutbutter soup because its the colour and smell and taste of peanut butter, its not bad, its justthe texture i cant stand... then there's cream of banku soup, which is nasty. I hate it, banku is a heavy, dough-like lump people eat with stew here, one of many kinds. it looks like heavy, unrisen bread dough and smells sour. the only way i can eat it is if the stew is really good. the porrige version is made from the same dough, and it just smells like vomit to me. I cant eat it. then we have regular oatmeal, which is canada i would never eat, but here its welcome... after breakfast, i take my anti-malarial pill (which unfortunately dosent protect against dengue fever, elephantitis or any othe rmosquito bourne diseases o_O) then either go to my work placement, which is teaching french and english in one of the smaller schools here (were on christmas holiday right now sowe just have the days off) or call up a friend and go to the beach.
The beach is amazing. Paradise on the edge of the atlantic ocean. there's a small reort in town, called awaa waa etuu, and they have a small restaurant that sells alcohol (most importantly), some food (fries, springrolls, rice etc) we go there when we havent eaten at home (because let's be honest, the food at home is not always bareable) and ice cream!! they also have coconuts. Oh my god the coconuts! I eat coconuts every, single day here. They are soooo sosososososo soooo amazing. i eat at least 2 a day, sometimes up to 5. and the pineapples are soooo juicy, its not mango season tey, but late next month it will be.. my mouth waters just thinking about the fruit here.
um. I'm going to continue this another day. My laundry needs to get done and there's no machine here to do it for me...
xxo
anyway, i'm back and i have soo much to say.. about ghana, about otuam, about my group and myself.... we live in a small village (of 5000 people).. it was really hard for me to imagine what kind of life i would live here... i knew we'd have no running water, i wasnt sure if we would have electricity, which we do. I new most people wouldnt speak english, i think i expected it to be a lot like inuit villages in terms of social structure and community... which it is, and i think that's one of the reasons its so easy for me to make myself part of the community.
the house i'm living at is actually quite nice, its spacious, my host mother, or auntie is the best of the best of the best, she's a single mother living in a house by herself that her late brother owned, and her other brother owns one of the better schools in the village. I live with another counterpart pair, which is great. The Cdn girl is from winnipeg and she's pretty awesome. we sit in my room and eat werthers originals and talk about canadian food, and snow and winter and other stuff we miss. and the two ghanaian girls are so nice to me, they help me so much.
I'll take you through a usual day here, then maybe you'll kind of get the picture.
alarm rings at 5:22am, snooze till about 7, if i got up around 6 i would go out and help my auntie sweep the compound outside, but usually i sleep in till 7, then i get up, sweep the bedroom if my cp hasnt already done it. check the water tank, collect water if need be. We live really close to the well, which is nice. i go to the pump with my buckets, small children fill them for me, everyone speaks fante and all i can understand is "Obruni" so i know they're talking about me... then someone helps me get it on my head and i walk back, leaving a trail of "Obruni how are you" and "Obruni what is your name".... fetching water is no small task. i continue till our big blue tank is filled. then i have breakfast, usualy i pretend to eat whatever porrige we have thatday, i dont like porrige at all, and thats pretty much all we have in the mornings. There's one i call peanutbutter soup because its the colour and smell and taste of peanut butter, its not bad, its justthe texture i cant stand... then there's cream of banku soup, which is nasty. I hate it, banku is a heavy, dough-like lump people eat with stew here, one of many kinds. it looks like heavy, unrisen bread dough and smells sour. the only way i can eat it is if the stew is really good. the porrige version is made from the same dough, and it just smells like vomit to me. I cant eat it. then we have regular oatmeal, which is canada i would never eat, but here its welcome... after breakfast, i take my anti-malarial pill (which unfortunately dosent protect against dengue fever, elephantitis or any othe rmosquito bourne diseases o_O) then either go to my work placement, which is teaching french and english in one of the smaller schools here (were on christmas holiday right now sowe just have the days off) or call up a friend and go to the beach.
The beach is amazing. Paradise on the edge of the atlantic ocean. there's a small reort in town, called awaa waa etuu, and they have a small restaurant that sells alcohol (most importantly), some food (fries, springrolls, rice etc) we go there when we havent eaten at home (because let's be honest, the food at home is not always bareable) and ice cream!! they also have coconuts. Oh my god the coconuts! I eat coconuts every, single day here. They are soooo sosososososo soooo amazing. i eat at least 2 a day, sometimes up to 5. and the pineapples are soooo juicy, its not mango season tey, but late next month it will be.. my mouth waters just thinking about the fruit here.
um. I'm going to continue this another day. My laundry needs to get done and there's no machine here to do it for me...
xxo
Monday, November 29, 2010
Obruni in Accra... So hot.
My first full day in Ghana. I'm sick with a cold and jet lagged beyond belief. it's 32 degrees in the shade and my air conditioned hostel keeps my room at 18. Which would be nice, except for that fact that I'm sick as a dog, and it really dosent help. We're spending our first few days in the capital, Accra before bussing to our lovely little soon to be village on the coast, Otuam. I've just heard that my host family is a sister and brother who live together. The sister dosent speak english and so far, my Twi consists if "Medase-thank you" and "Obruni-white person" (because to Ghanaian standards, I'm white. It's like the inuttitut word Qallunaaq, it's pretty much equivalent... you dont have to be white to be qallunaaq, you just need to not be Inuk.)
Anyway, My amazing counterpart took me to the market with her sister this afternoon after a short orientation. I'm so incredibly lucky to have been paired with this person, so far I'm pretty sure were the best CPs.
The market was intennnssse!! holy! It was sensory overload to the MAX. Imagine, jet lagged after a 2 day journey with no sleep, having a horrific cold, not knowing what time or day it is and walking through an African market in the middle of the afternoon. My CP (Linda) was holding my hand (literally and figuratively)the whole way as I stumbled around confused and overwhelmed, glaring at women with babies on their back and plates of Mangoes or Bananas on their heads, weaving through human traffic like Only the global south could generate, CD vendors blasting reggae tunes in languages I've never heard, aggressive cloth salesmen hissing to get my attention, children running around weaving through the maze that was Makola Market, the smell of smoked fish, live crabs and GIANT snails just hanging out in big metal bowls, waiting for someone to come along and bargin for them, "Obruni BUY!" , "Obruni 1 Cedi!" and "Beautiful Obruni, I'll be your boyfriend" from all directions... did I mention it was 32 degrees out? and the fact that there literally no rules on the road, We were almost hit by a Taxi as we made our way out of the market, and the countless motorcycles and trotros honking to get through... Linda and her sister took me to a coconut vendor and bought me a fresh coconut, that a tiny woman in a bright blue shirt devastated with a GIANT machete, I drank the water and it was the most amazing thing I've ever consumed. Sweet, fresh, cool coconut! straight from the pod (or whatever they're called)... then she bought me mangoes... oh wow. completely orgasmic.. she would only let me have two because she said we dont know how my body will react to it :(. I could have eaten 10. They were about the size of an apple and so yellow and soft.. I'll never eat a mango in north america again. ever.
it was a crazy fucking day. I'm going to go take a shower, nurse my horrible cold and pretend that it's not actually 29 degrees outside.
better get used to it though... cause this is Africa.
Anyway, My amazing counterpart took me to the market with her sister this afternoon after a short orientation. I'm so incredibly lucky to have been paired with this person, so far I'm pretty sure were the best CPs.
The market was intennnssse!! holy! It was sensory overload to the MAX. Imagine, jet lagged after a 2 day journey with no sleep, having a horrific cold, not knowing what time or day it is and walking through an African market in the middle of the afternoon. My CP (Linda) was holding my hand (literally and figuratively)the whole way as I stumbled around confused and overwhelmed, glaring at women with babies on their back and plates of Mangoes or Bananas on their heads, weaving through human traffic like Only the global south could generate, CD vendors blasting reggae tunes in languages I've never heard, aggressive cloth salesmen hissing to get my attention, children running around weaving through the maze that was Makola Market, the smell of smoked fish, live crabs and GIANT snails just hanging out in big metal bowls, waiting for someone to come along and bargin for them, "Obruni BUY!" , "Obruni 1 Cedi!" and "Beautiful Obruni, I'll be your boyfriend" from all directions... did I mention it was 32 degrees out? and the fact that there literally no rules on the road, We were almost hit by a Taxi as we made our way out of the market, and the countless motorcycles and trotros honking to get through... Linda and her sister took me to a coconut vendor and bought me a fresh coconut, that a tiny woman in a bright blue shirt devastated with a GIANT machete, I drank the water and it was the most amazing thing I've ever consumed. Sweet, fresh, cool coconut! straight from the pod (or whatever they're called)... then she bought me mangoes... oh wow. completely orgasmic.. she would only let me have two because she said we dont know how my body will react to it :(. I could have eaten 10. They were about the size of an apple and so yellow and soft.. I'll never eat a mango in north america again. ever.
it was a crazy fucking day. I'm going to go take a shower, nurse my horrible cold and pretend that it's not actually 29 degrees outside.
better get used to it though... cause this is Africa.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Canada World Youth...Phase one.
So my Moncton phase of the program is over, not sure whether it's finally or suddenly over, but for sure.. it's definitely over over over. It's done. Fini. No more lovely Maritime Moncton...
I have to be honest, I was really not looking forward to going to Moncton... the prospect of Ghana was so much more exciting. So much more exotic and Mysterious... Moncton was just... well... Moncton. Another small Canadian city with a church, arena and Tim Horton's on every block. But now that I've had the opportunity to spend a significant chunk of time there, I'm completely in love. It's such a beautiful, vibrant community, full of wonderful, kind, creative and open people... I met some of the coolest, most interesting characters there. Cafe Clementine with their amazing cafe au lait, Graffiti with their to die for desserts and the Laundromat. Oh the Laundromat - pretty much my second home. And Youth Quest Central, THE best place to work. Ever. Period. All of the amazing youth that go there... I'm seriously going to miss each of them. It was so great to be able to make connections with such kind and vibrant individuals.. and the staff, I miss them already! They made it such an awesome place to work, the dynamic there was almost perfect, I couldnt imagine how Quest could be run with any different combination of people. They rock my socks (both pairs of unmatching ones, because i wear two pairs of socks. Just thought you'd all be interested to know). And my host family! I'm actually heartbroken to be leaving, I admit that we went through some serious rough patches, but what can you expect when you (a pair of strangers) is all of a sudden thrown into a new household, I can understand the frustrations they must have gone through, living with two young women for three months.. I really appreciate the kindness and openness they showed me. I honestly dont think i could have been matched with a better family for my own needs. I appreciate them so much.
but now, that's all behind me, it's done, gone, bye baby bye... now it's time for new adventures, new challenges, new reasons to cry and new reasons to laugh. My whole world will be turned upside down... even through the Moncton phase, this experience has forced me to feel every emotion intensely, to touch the depths of my own personal limits. My patience has been tested, my lines have been crossed and my god, I'm still here. I'm still breathing, still blinking.... it hasnt been the end of me yet - even though at some points it genuinely seems like it would be... some moments, i wanted nothing more than to dig a deep, dark hole and just disappear.. then other moments where I wish the joy could last forever.
I have made friends that I will cherish for life, I;ve met characters that i seriously clash with and I've become friends with people I otherwise would never have thought to connect with under any other circumstances.
Anyway, I'm exhausted and still need to re-pack and weigh my bags.
good night world, goodbye Canada and Hello Ghana.
I have to be honest, I was really not looking forward to going to Moncton... the prospect of Ghana was so much more exciting. So much more exotic and Mysterious... Moncton was just... well... Moncton. Another small Canadian city with a church, arena and Tim Horton's on every block. But now that I've had the opportunity to spend a significant chunk of time there, I'm completely in love. It's such a beautiful, vibrant community, full of wonderful, kind, creative and open people... I met some of the coolest, most interesting characters there. Cafe Clementine with their amazing cafe au lait, Graffiti with their to die for desserts and the Laundromat. Oh the Laundromat - pretty much my second home. And Youth Quest Central, THE best place to work. Ever. Period. All of the amazing youth that go there... I'm seriously going to miss each of them. It was so great to be able to make connections with such kind and vibrant individuals.. and the staff, I miss them already! They made it such an awesome place to work, the dynamic there was almost perfect, I couldnt imagine how Quest could be run with any different combination of people. They rock my socks (both pairs of unmatching ones, because i wear two pairs of socks. Just thought you'd all be interested to know). And my host family! I'm actually heartbroken to be leaving, I admit that we went through some serious rough patches, but what can you expect when you (a pair of strangers) is all of a sudden thrown into a new household, I can understand the frustrations they must have gone through, living with two young women for three months.. I really appreciate the kindness and openness they showed me. I honestly dont think i could have been matched with a better family for my own needs. I appreciate them so much.
but now, that's all behind me, it's done, gone, bye baby bye... now it's time for new adventures, new challenges, new reasons to cry and new reasons to laugh. My whole world will be turned upside down... even through the Moncton phase, this experience has forced me to feel every emotion intensely, to touch the depths of my own personal limits. My patience has been tested, my lines have been crossed and my god, I'm still here. I'm still breathing, still blinking.... it hasnt been the end of me yet - even though at some points it genuinely seems like it would be... some moments, i wanted nothing more than to dig a deep, dark hole and just disappear.. then other moments where I wish the joy could last forever.
I have made friends that I will cherish for life, I;ve met characters that i seriously clash with and I've become friends with people I otherwise would never have thought to connect with under any other circumstances.
Anyway, I'm exhausted and still need to re-pack and weigh my bags.
good night world, goodbye Canada and Hello Ghana.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
I am...
I've done a hell of a lot of self reflection lately. I've grown so much. I've learned so much.
I just have to put it all out there, because im not always the best at communicating my thoughts and feeling verbally.
I'm 21 now. Twenty One. For two decades and 382 days, the world has known Jeannie Janice Christina Grey-Scott. I've been the heartbeat for some and a headache for others. I've done much succeeding, and much fucking up. 21 years is enough time to make some questionable decisions, but also enough time to learn from and grow out of those questionable decisions. I was born with birthmarks on my fingers and toes. I'll die with tattoos on my hands and holes in my skin.
I was born to a mother from a polar paradise, to a father who was never there, but i was given a dad in place of that. A woman who handmade my winter clothes, she rubbed my back and braided my hair. A man who made me panicakes and read me books. He taught me how to read a clock, how to ride a bike. I have brothers who threw oranges at me, who painted race cars for me to put up on my walls, They defend me and protect me. I am lucky.
I had a grandmother who was born a nomad. She had more skill in her little finger than any one of us could wish to gain in a lifetime. and a grandmother who was a nurse and a midwife -a fiery feminist firecracker.
I had a grandfather with an intimate relationship with earth, he knew the seasons, the ocean and the skies. He knew what he could get in return as long as he continued to give. and another one who was a poet, a writer, a self proclaimed peace monger. He knew the power of the Word, and without my realizing it, gave me the gift of knowing how to use it. a little pretentious of me to think so, right? whatever... this is a 'me me me' post anyway...
The Inuit are my people, first and foremost. I love my culture. I love my family. I love my language. I love my food. I love kuniks. I love katajjaq. I love the sound of snow crunching under my feet. I love dark winters and never ending summer days. Its the most beautiful thing in the world. I hope that in my lifetime, I can have done the honor of sustaining that way of life.
I was born in a blizzard. 21 years ago, the canadian sub-arctic still snowed in October. Now, in November, it rains. I wonder what my grandfather would think of that? if he would know how get around in such drastically different world... if his knowledge would still be relevant. I fight climate change because i would hate to think his experiences were all in vain. I fight climate change because my mother was raised in a cold climate, yet her grandchildren will never really know that. I fight climate change because i cant accept the fact that it dosent snow on my birthday anymore.
I once spent hours everyday primping and preening. I spent hours beautifying myself so that i could be like Kelly Rowland, like Tyra Banks, like that girl in the music video. You know the one? in her skin tight skirts and bikini top, inch long, jet black eyelashes. I wanted to be beautiful. I bought that. I ate it allll up... a woman must be sexy, she must be docile, she must be skinny, she must paint her face to be desirable. No. Not anymore. Now i march for women's rights. Now i understand the image i was buying was destructive to my spirit as a human being. As a woman. I am a woman. I have hair on my legs, I have brains in my head. I have a VOICE. I have generations of women before me who FOUGHT for ME to have a right to that voice. They fought to give me the right to equality, to give me opportunities to live up to my full potential. I will not let those women down. Their struggle will not be in vain. I will not choose make up over democracy. I will not choose to objectify myself while women all over the country and planet do not have the right to say no. I am lucky. And my heart and my spirit give me no other choice but to fight for other women to have those same rights. I refuse to be part of the problem while others give their lives for the solutions.
I am young. I have the energy to keep this fight alive. I have the ability in every cell in my female body to sustain the momentum of this movement and every movement towards social justice for that matter. Of course I'm not alone. My peers are equal to me on every human level, but like i was (and to some extent, still am), many are too preoccupied with that pimple on their nose. The next blockbuster hit. The Habs. Not too many young people willing risk anything to protect the future, or people on the other side if the world. But that's not true either. Young people are the driving force behind so many social justice movements across the globe. We get the short end of the stick, and that, unfortunately is not gonna fly. I fight, along with my fellow youth FOR youth. We are the future, but most importantly, WE ARE NOW. We are now, so be afraid. Be prepared for major social shifts, be prepared for fundamental changes in this whole entire system that we all collectively occupy.
Imagine how difficult it is as a woman in this world? Now add that up with being an indigenous person in a post colonial world? add still the of being coloured... now add sprinkle in the aspect of being young.
Yea, so i basically got the shit end of every stick the world could trow at me. But I take that as a privilege.
I am a woman. I am an Inuk woman. I am a black woman. I am a young woman. I'm Jeannie Janice Christina Grey-Scott and I am a force to be reckoned with. By the time I'm through, this world will work in my favor, and to the favor of all those like me.
remember this, always: "Love is the movement."
I just have to put it all out there, because im not always the best at communicating my thoughts and feeling verbally.
I'm 21 now. Twenty One. For two decades and 382 days, the world has known Jeannie Janice Christina Grey-Scott. I've been the heartbeat for some and a headache for others. I've done much succeeding, and much fucking up. 21 years is enough time to make some questionable decisions, but also enough time to learn from and grow out of those questionable decisions. I was born with birthmarks on my fingers and toes. I'll die with tattoos on my hands and holes in my skin.
I was born to a mother from a polar paradise, to a father who was never there, but i was given a dad in place of that. A woman who handmade my winter clothes, she rubbed my back and braided my hair. A man who made me panicakes and read me books. He taught me how to read a clock, how to ride a bike. I have brothers who threw oranges at me, who painted race cars for me to put up on my walls, They defend me and protect me. I am lucky.
I had a grandmother who was born a nomad. She had more skill in her little finger than any one of us could wish to gain in a lifetime. and a grandmother who was a nurse and a midwife -a fiery feminist firecracker.
I had a grandfather with an intimate relationship with earth, he knew the seasons, the ocean and the skies. He knew what he could get in return as long as he continued to give. and another one who was a poet, a writer, a self proclaimed peace monger. He knew the power of the Word, and without my realizing it, gave me the gift of knowing how to use it. a little pretentious of me to think so, right? whatever... this is a 'me me me' post anyway...
The Inuit are my people, first and foremost. I love my culture. I love my family. I love my language. I love my food. I love kuniks. I love katajjaq. I love the sound of snow crunching under my feet. I love dark winters and never ending summer days. Its the most beautiful thing in the world. I hope that in my lifetime, I can have done the honor of sustaining that way of life.
I was born in a blizzard. 21 years ago, the canadian sub-arctic still snowed in October. Now, in November, it rains. I wonder what my grandfather would think of that? if he would know how get around in such drastically different world... if his knowledge would still be relevant. I fight climate change because i would hate to think his experiences were all in vain. I fight climate change because my mother was raised in a cold climate, yet her grandchildren will never really know that. I fight climate change because i cant accept the fact that it dosent snow on my birthday anymore.
I once spent hours everyday primping and preening. I spent hours beautifying myself so that i could be like Kelly Rowland, like Tyra Banks, like that girl in the music video. You know the one? in her skin tight skirts and bikini top, inch long, jet black eyelashes. I wanted to be beautiful. I bought that. I ate it allll up... a woman must be sexy, she must be docile, she must be skinny, she must paint her face to be desirable. No. Not anymore. Now i march for women's rights. Now i understand the image i was buying was destructive to my spirit as a human being. As a woman. I am a woman. I have hair on my legs, I have brains in my head. I have a VOICE. I have generations of women before me who FOUGHT for ME to have a right to that voice. They fought to give me the right to equality, to give me opportunities to live up to my full potential. I will not let those women down. Their struggle will not be in vain. I will not choose make up over democracy. I will not choose to objectify myself while women all over the country and planet do not have the right to say no. I am lucky. And my heart and my spirit give me no other choice but to fight for other women to have those same rights. I refuse to be part of the problem while others give their lives for the solutions.
I am young. I have the energy to keep this fight alive. I have the ability in every cell in my female body to sustain the momentum of this movement and every movement towards social justice for that matter. Of course I'm not alone. My peers are equal to me on every human level, but like i was (and to some extent, still am), many are too preoccupied with that pimple on their nose. The next blockbuster hit. The Habs. Not too many young people willing risk anything to protect the future, or people on the other side if the world. But that's not true either. Young people are the driving force behind so many social justice movements across the globe. We get the short end of the stick, and that, unfortunately is not gonna fly. I fight, along with my fellow youth FOR youth. We are the future, but most importantly, WE ARE NOW. We are now, so be afraid. Be prepared for major social shifts, be prepared for fundamental changes in this whole entire system that we all collectively occupy.
Imagine how difficult it is as a woman in this world? Now add that up with being an indigenous person in a post colonial world? add still the of being coloured... now add sprinkle in the aspect of being young.
Yea, so i basically got the shit end of every stick the world could trow at me. But I take that as a privilege.
I am a woman. I am an Inuk woman. I am a black woman. I am a young woman. I'm Jeannie Janice Christina Grey-Scott and I am a force to be reckoned with. By the time I'm through, this world will work in my favor, and to the favor of all those like me.
remember this, always: "Love is the movement."
Saturday, November 6, 2010
modern vs traditional
So, a couple people have been writing about this lately and I’ve been thinking about it myself… What does it actually mean to be traditional Inuit?
In Canada, it’s been a good couple decades since Inuit lived any kind of life that one could call traditional. Inuit people were, after all nomadic, they were hunters-gatherers, the relied on dogs for transport and fed their families with seal meat and caribou… now we live in communities. Now, we go to the store. We buy shoes from San Francisco online with our credit cards and we pay off loans for Suzuki Sidekicks. BUT we DO speak our language, amid the intense colonial efforts of our Canadian government, we managed to maintain our ability to speak Inuttitut. We still go hunting, albeit with guns and ski-doo’s instead of sleds and harpoons… but a major part of our diet still consists of foods that sustained our great grandparents. Ok, So my great grandma never had Soy sauce with her frozen char, but the ugly beauty of globalisation has allowed me that pleasure. As a young Inuk, I gotta say, I deeply love traditional food. I will eat anything frozen, I’ll eat it dried, I’ll eat it raw or fermented. I love it. It’s a deep and significant part of who I am. But just because I eat those things, does that make me a traditional Inuk? What if I sprinkle garlic salt on my dried caribou? Is that sacrilege? Is that contemporary? I don’t know, anyway.. this is getting too technical.
The point is, how DO we find a balance between traditional and modern? Without losing too much of our heritage… I was saying to a friend, I think the generation I am in (I’m in my early 20’s) is that bridge generation. I think anyone between 20-30 right now is there. We were educated, not in residential schools, but in our communities. We were not taken from our parents to waste away developmental years in institutions teaching us shame and abuse. We have parents who were born on the land and grandparents who lived mostly nomadic lives. But we are now living in the information age… we have access to the internet, to urban centers, access to higher education. We have the world at our fingertips and it feels like we’re diving into the deep end of this whole new universe. I feel like my senses are overloaded, too much stimulation. I have my iPod in my ears cranked up some Kid Cudi, my Suede Aldo knee-high boots and my hundred dollar Chinese laundry purse, uploading pictures of this weekend’s bender on facebook waiting for my plane to take me halfway across the world and to me, I’M SO DAMN COOL… I cant Imagine, not even in my wildest dreams how it must have felt to walk from Kuujjuaq to Kangirsuk, I cant imagine how it felt to go hungry because the caribou changed the migration paths… it’s not cool to think about being hungry or walking hundreds of miles. It’s not cool to smell like seal skins when you can buy Gucci eau de toilette… most of us don’t realize how much we’re actually leaving behind. The experiences and stories of our ancestors are disappearing as easily as deleting pictures off a digital camera. We’re taking SO much for granted. We’re the generation to blame if Inuit traditional knowledge (whether we practice it or not) is lost.
But I walk around and say “I’m Inuk”… I walk around with my seal skin bag and my fox fur coat… “Yea, I’m Inuk”. Have I ever gone hunting? No. Do I know my language in and out? No. Do I know how to relate to my great aunt and does she know how to relate to me? Hell, no. But yea… I’m Inuk.
In Canada, it’s been a good couple decades since Inuit lived any kind of life that one could call traditional. Inuit people were, after all nomadic, they were hunters-gatherers, the relied on dogs for transport and fed their families with seal meat and caribou… now we live in communities. Now, we go to the store. We buy shoes from San Francisco online with our credit cards and we pay off loans for Suzuki Sidekicks. BUT we DO speak our language, amid the intense colonial efforts of our Canadian government, we managed to maintain our ability to speak Inuttitut. We still go hunting, albeit with guns and ski-doo’s instead of sleds and harpoons… but a major part of our diet still consists of foods that sustained our great grandparents. Ok, So my great grandma never had Soy sauce with her frozen char, but the ugly beauty of globalisation has allowed me that pleasure. As a young Inuk, I gotta say, I deeply love traditional food. I will eat anything frozen, I’ll eat it dried, I’ll eat it raw or fermented. I love it. It’s a deep and significant part of who I am. But just because I eat those things, does that make me a traditional Inuk? What if I sprinkle garlic salt on my dried caribou? Is that sacrilege? Is that contemporary? I don’t know, anyway.. this is getting too technical.
The point is, how DO we find a balance between traditional and modern? Without losing too much of our heritage… I was saying to a friend, I think the generation I am in (I’m in my early 20’s) is that bridge generation. I think anyone between 20-30 right now is there. We were educated, not in residential schools, but in our communities. We were not taken from our parents to waste away developmental years in institutions teaching us shame and abuse. We have parents who were born on the land and grandparents who lived mostly nomadic lives. But we are now living in the information age… we have access to the internet, to urban centers, access to higher education. We have the world at our fingertips and it feels like we’re diving into the deep end of this whole new universe. I feel like my senses are overloaded, too much stimulation. I have my iPod in my ears cranked up some Kid Cudi, my Suede Aldo knee-high boots and my hundred dollar Chinese laundry purse, uploading pictures of this weekend’s bender on facebook waiting for my plane to take me halfway across the world and to me, I’M SO DAMN COOL… I cant Imagine, not even in my wildest dreams how it must have felt to walk from Kuujjuaq to Kangirsuk, I cant imagine how it felt to go hungry because the caribou changed the migration paths… it’s not cool to think about being hungry or walking hundreds of miles. It’s not cool to smell like seal skins when you can buy Gucci eau de toilette… most of us don’t realize how much we’re actually leaving behind. The experiences and stories of our ancestors are disappearing as easily as deleting pictures off a digital camera. We’re taking SO much for granted. We’re the generation to blame if Inuit traditional knowledge (whether we practice it or not) is lost.
But I walk around and say “I’m Inuk”… I walk around with my seal skin bag and my fox fur coat… “Yea, I’m Inuk”. Have I ever gone hunting? No. Do I know my language in and out? No. Do I know how to relate to my great aunt and does she know how to relate to me? Hell, no. But yea… I’m Inuk.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Courtney is a Princess.
Courtney is a Princess. Did you know? She has pretty pink hats, and pretty pink coats.
She is the princess of the ice and the snow.
Courtney, you see is a very special kind of princess. She is the princess of an arctic land. The sun dosent set in Courtney's kingdom.. at least not in the summer time! no ma'am!
She rules over polar bears and seals...
She can do anything she feels!
Since princess is, as princess does, Princess Courtney sends out love. She loves her mom and loves her dad.. She makes them better if they get sad.
The summer sun is always bright, but winter time means constant night. But Courtney, princess of the frigid cold, likes the night. Just for her, the stars unfold. The northern lights, they dance and play.. all for princess Courtney! Yay!
The rolling hills make perfect places, for the Princess to have all her races! She races down the snowy slopes, with all her friends, and all their folks!
The frozen ponds and icy lakes, are perfect places for princesses to skate! around and round the lakes she speeds, her skates are faster than the bees!
But when princess Courtney needs to sleep, her ice castle is where she goes. The sweetest dreams know where to go, way out in the land of ice and snow.
When the princess sleeps, the kingdom is peaceful. The land is quiet and so are the people. They sleep just fine when they all know, their princess Courtney runs the show.
The bestest Princess to ever be, Princess Courtney.. yes indeed.
Love you too much Courtney. My little princess.
She is the princess of the ice and the snow.
Courtney, you see is a very special kind of princess. She is the princess of an arctic land. The sun dosent set in Courtney's kingdom.. at least not in the summer time! no ma'am!
She rules over polar bears and seals...
She can do anything she feels!
Since princess is, as princess does, Princess Courtney sends out love. She loves her mom and loves her dad.. She makes them better if they get sad.
The summer sun is always bright, but winter time means constant night. But Courtney, princess of the frigid cold, likes the night. Just for her, the stars unfold. The northern lights, they dance and play.. all for princess Courtney! Yay!
The rolling hills make perfect places, for the Princess to have all her races! She races down the snowy slopes, with all her friends, and all their folks!
The frozen ponds and icy lakes, are perfect places for princesses to skate! around and round the lakes she speeds, her skates are faster than the bees!
But when princess Courtney needs to sleep, her ice castle is where she goes. The sweetest dreams know where to go, way out in the land of ice and snow.
When the princess sleeps, the kingdom is peaceful. The land is quiet and so are the people. They sleep just fine when they all know, their princess Courtney runs the show.
The bestest Princess to ever be, Princess Courtney.. yes indeed.
Love you too much Courtney. My little princess.
Jacob Dosent Want to go to Bed
**Here is my first attempt at writing a children's book (I'm going to illustrate a hard copy version just for fun).**
* Dedicated to lovely Jacob, a big boy of 3 years old.
Jacob was a good boy all day. He played nice with his friends at daycare... Then he went skating with his mommy and daddy, he ate all his candy! And when he got home, he ate all his supper. Even the broccoli! After Dinner, he has apple cobbler for dessert, he even scooped his own ice cream! You see, Jacob is a big boy and big boys can scoop their own ice cream... especially the maple kind.
After he had dessert, Jacob wanted to read a story with his freind Janice. (Janice and Jacob both start with the letter "J"). So Jacob picked out the book he wanted to read. Janice and Jacob wnet out to swing in the porch like they always do... but today, for whatever reason, Jacob didnt want to share the swing. He said "you can sit on the floor and read to me" as he as he lay down on the entire swing. But his friend didnt want to sit on the floor and read to him. It just wasnt fair. So she said to Jacob "No. I dont want to sit on the floor and read to you.".
So Jacob started crying.
He got so mad! He even threw the book across the porch!
Then his daddy came in to see what all the commotion was about. "What's going on?" he said with a big voice that only daddies can have. Jacob cried and cried, nobody could figure out why. Then his daddy said "Unless yoyu apologiize, you're going right to bed!" But Jacob was stubborn. He didnt want to apologize, but he didnt want to go to bed either. Janice was very upset because Jacob didnt want to share with her, and because he was yelling and screaming.
Jacob didnt realize he hurt her feelings, so he still didnt apologize. His daddy then picked him up and put him over his shaulder and carried him all the way upstairs. Jacob still didnt want to go to bed. "NOOO!" he cried! "I dont wanna go to bed!" He screamed, in his loudest, whiniest voice. His daddy gave him one more chance to apologize, so they went back downstairs and Jacob, with tears in his big blue eyes said
"Sorry"
To his friend. "It's ok" she said "But next time, you have to be nice, ok?".
So Jacob, always be nice to your friends and dont hurt their feelings. If you do, you have to apologize right away. Ok? <3
* Dedicated to lovely Jacob, a big boy of 3 years old.
Jacob was a good boy all day. He played nice with his friends at daycare... Then he went skating with his mommy and daddy, he ate all his candy! And when he got home, he ate all his supper. Even the broccoli! After Dinner, he has apple cobbler for dessert, he even scooped his own ice cream! You see, Jacob is a big boy and big boys can scoop their own ice cream... especially the maple kind.
After he had dessert, Jacob wanted to read a story with his freind Janice. (Janice and Jacob both start with the letter "J"). So Jacob picked out the book he wanted to read. Janice and Jacob wnet out to swing in the porch like they always do... but today, for whatever reason, Jacob didnt want to share the swing. He said "you can sit on the floor and read to me" as he as he lay down on the entire swing. But his friend didnt want to sit on the floor and read to him. It just wasnt fair. So she said to Jacob "No. I dont want to sit on the floor and read to you.".
So Jacob started crying.
He got so mad! He even threw the book across the porch!
Then his daddy came in to see what all the commotion was about. "What's going on?" he said with a big voice that only daddies can have. Jacob cried and cried, nobody could figure out why. Then his daddy said "Unless yoyu apologiize, you're going right to bed!" But Jacob was stubborn. He didnt want to apologize, but he didnt want to go to bed either. Janice was very upset because Jacob didnt want to share with her, and because he was yelling and screaming.
Jacob didnt realize he hurt her feelings, so he still didnt apologize. His daddy then picked him up and put him over his shaulder and carried him all the way upstairs. Jacob still didnt want to go to bed. "NOOO!" he cried! "I dont wanna go to bed!" He screamed, in his loudest, whiniest voice. His daddy gave him one more chance to apologize, so they went back downstairs and Jacob, with tears in his big blue eyes said
"Sorry"
To his friend. "It's ok" she said "But next time, you have to be nice, ok?".
So Jacob, always be nice to your friends and dont hurt their feelings. If you do, you have to apologize right away. Ok? <3
Sunday, August 22, 2010
eat, sleep, breath CIRCUS!
wow.. this has been such an incredible 2 weeks for me i dont even know where to begin..
I travelled to Kuujjuaq on august 6th, and from then until now, I've had all night parties, I've been on stage, I called over 50 teens and their parents, helped run a circus camp (yes CIRCUS camp), discovered abilities and leanred about myself from true friends, I was in the hospital, I was 'mommy', i was 'friend' and 'discipline-er', I met SUSAN AGLUKARK, I made amazing friends, I've discovered my inner circus freak, I worked 14 hour days, I went to sleep thinking about 'my kids', I had a melt down, I worked 3 weekends in a row, I just.. wow.
Ok, so i'll start from the very very start.. when i was young (like 3-4-5ish) I LOVED the circus. I was that baby that could climb tables before i could walk and once i did master alking, i learned fast that skipping and dancing were more fun. I could bend over backwards and climb all the way to the top of the rope.. I was bouncing off the walls. Can you imagine how much I loved the circus? I loved everything cirque du soleil.. i breathed it.. i worshiped those people that could fly through the air, stand on shaulders and bend in half.. I always felt like i was one of them.. or the same kind as them.. or something.
Anyway, fast forward a couple years and imagine me at home doing nothing at 11pm on the computor.. I get an email from Sylvia asking if i want to work with the upcoming CIRQINIQ circus camp she's been creating.. no second thoughts.. i was like "YES YES YES YES" ( i believe that was my response email lol)
I got here a week before the camp started to help with the preliminary stuff (registrations etc).. so i was calling all the kids ( i call them kids, they were 13-17) and talked to each of them over the phone, I learned tehir voices and their names and when they got here i was able to remember most of them :).. but that week just happened to be the week of Aqpik Jam, the annual music festival in Kuujjuaq.. so one of my best friends, A-M asked me to help her with the youth group, teach throat singing and drumming and stuff.. so i did that with her. and it was so fun.. I love working with that particular youth group, theyre so sweet and cute and talented! watching young girls become comfortable to throat sing on STAGE it makes me SO proud to know that i was able to help them gain that confidence :).... but can you imagne? I was working 14 hour days on top of that AND attending/performing the festival and partying like it was 1999! ugh.. whenever i come here, there's always a reason to party.. Im not huge on drinking but when all my friends from all over are in the same place, it's like WHY NOT? lol.. I ended up overdoing it.. so by the time the kids arrived, i was already on the verge of physical exhaustion.
The first few days of the camp were really hard.. really really hard. We had a lot of rules that didnt go over well with the youth, they complained (A LOT) some of them didnt get along, they didnt want to participate in activities and it was just hard to get people motivated.. I wasnt one of the nght moniters, so i got to go home to sleep each night, but by 830 am i would already be at work and the days only ended for me past 10pm.. combine my already tired body with my stressball mind and a really bad spell of H.Pylori bacteria in my tummy (which meant constant nausea, nothing i ate or drank would stay down and by day 5 i was in need of medical attention).. So i ended up in the hospital. i was put on IV to restore fluids in my incredibly dehydrated body and gravel to keep my food and drink down.. but i hate needles so much that i tried to convince the nurse not t put the IV in (can you imagine a patient trying to convince a nurse they dont need fluids by IV when they cant even pee to take a pregnancy test?).. she yelled at me "YOU HAVENT HAD ANYTHINHG FOR FIVE DAYS. YOU NEED THIS."so i sucked it up and i acted like a big girl and didnt cry when she put it in (I dont think my body could have mustered enough hydration for tears anyway).. I ended up falling asleep and dreaming about being on facebook, I woke up moving the hand that the iv was in as if it was on a laptop mouse pad..lol
Anyway, straight from the hospital i went back to work feeling amazing> i felt like a raisin that's just been soaked in water..lol so fresh an plump! lol but the kids were still on the negative low.. so i ended u pspanning. I sat them all in a circle and yelled at them about how much time, work, and money went into this project, how disrespectful they were being to the staff and instructors (world class circus people!!!) and how if that's the future of my region, i'm scared. After that little talk.. they were all pretty good.. it started getting better. but we still ended up sending a few of them home.. but after the ones that went home were gone (the most disrputive ones or ones that had crossed lines) the ones who were truely interested in being there could really shine! it was amazing to see how much the mood changed by the middle of the week...
I made some very wonderful young friends that I miss already (They got on their planes home today.. :( they broke my heart by leaving me!!!!).. i got lots of hugs, kisses, snuggles, high fives and even bites from 50 wonderful, beautiful inuit youth. I love them all. I cant even express how much they mean to me now.. they're so lovely, I just want to line them all up and knock them all down like dominoes! <3
One of the girls there really reminded me of myself when i was that age.. it's amazing. I love her and i always, always will.. and another oone of the girls that just amazed me with her talent and her grace and her strength.. she's spending the night with me now that camp is over :) I love it! and the BOYS! oh are the ever CUTE! ugh! such little ladies men! i love love love!
but after all the practicing we did.. the last day was pretty hectic.. we were all exhausted and just drained from the week and that very day, we lost another one of our peers to suicide which really affected the group because he was that same age as all the kids we had with us, and he was friends with many of them, but we had a show t put on and you know the show must go on! it ended up being completely, absolutely, truely, deeply, honestly just AMAZING. breathtaking even. I just dont even have the words to describe it. And teh cherry on top? Susan Aglukark had done a speaking presentation for the kids the day before then also performed at the end of the final show! it was just grand! lol
anyway, i'll try to continue this post more.. im exhausted and its past my girl's curfew and getting worried. it's scary to love someone and be waiting for them at a certain hour and they dont show up when they say they will.... I officially apologize to my parents.
I travelled to Kuujjuaq on august 6th, and from then until now, I've had all night parties, I've been on stage, I called over 50 teens and their parents, helped run a circus camp (yes CIRCUS camp), discovered abilities and leanred about myself from true friends, I was in the hospital, I was 'mommy', i was 'friend' and 'discipline-er', I met SUSAN AGLUKARK, I made amazing friends, I've discovered my inner circus freak, I worked 14 hour days, I went to sleep thinking about 'my kids', I had a melt down, I worked 3 weekends in a row, I just.. wow.
Ok, so i'll start from the very very start.. when i was young (like 3-4-5ish) I LOVED the circus. I was that baby that could climb tables before i could walk and once i did master alking, i learned fast that skipping and dancing were more fun. I could bend over backwards and climb all the way to the top of the rope.. I was bouncing off the walls. Can you imagine how much I loved the circus? I loved everything cirque du soleil.. i breathed it.. i worshiped those people that could fly through the air, stand on shaulders and bend in half.. I always felt like i was one of them.. or the same kind as them.. or something.
Anyway, fast forward a couple years and imagine me at home doing nothing at 11pm on the computor.. I get an email from Sylvia asking if i want to work with the upcoming CIRQINIQ circus camp she's been creating.. no second thoughts.. i was like "YES YES YES YES" ( i believe that was my response email lol)
I got here a week before the camp started to help with the preliminary stuff (registrations etc).. so i was calling all the kids ( i call them kids, they were 13-17) and talked to each of them over the phone, I learned tehir voices and their names and when they got here i was able to remember most of them :).. but that week just happened to be the week of Aqpik Jam, the annual music festival in Kuujjuaq.. so one of my best friends, A-M asked me to help her with the youth group, teach throat singing and drumming and stuff.. so i did that with her. and it was so fun.. I love working with that particular youth group, theyre so sweet and cute and talented! watching young girls become comfortable to throat sing on STAGE it makes me SO proud to know that i was able to help them gain that confidence :).... but can you imagne? I was working 14 hour days on top of that AND attending/performing the festival and partying like it was 1999! ugh.. whenever i come here, there's always a reason to party.. Im not huge on drinking but when all my friends from all over are in the same place, it's like WHY NOT? lol.. I ended up overdoing it.. so by the time the kids arrived, i was already on the verge of physical exhaustion.
The first few days of the camp were really hard.. really really hard. We had a lot of rules that didnt go over well with the youth, they complained (A LOT) some of them didnt get along, they didnt want to participate in activities and it was just hard to get people motivated.. I wasnt one of the nght moniters, so i got to go home to sleep each night, but by 830 am i would already be at work and the days only ended for me past 10pm.. combine my already tired body with my stressball mind and a really bad spell of H.Pylori bacteria in my tummy (which meant constant nausea, nothing i ate or drank would stay down and by day 5 i was in need of medical attention).. So i ended up in the hospital. i was put on IV to restore fluids in my incredibly dehydrated body and gravel to keep my food and drink down.. but i hate needles so much that i tried to convince the nurse not t put the IV in (can you imagine a patient trying to convince a nurse they dont need fluids by IV when they cant even pee to take a pregnancy test?).. she yelled at me "YOU HAVENT HAD ANYTHINHG FOR FIVE DAYS. YOU NEED THIS."so i sucked it up and i acted like a big girl and didnt cry when she put it in (I dont think my body could have mustered enough hydration for tears anyway).. I ended up falling asleep and dreaming about being on facebook, I woke up moving the hand that the iv was in as if it was on a laptop mouse pad..lol
Anyway, straight from the hospital i went back to work feeling amazing> i felt like a raisin that's just been soaked in water..lol so fresh an plump! lol but the kids were still on the negative low.. so i ended u pspanning. I sat them all in a circle and yelled at them about how much time, work, and money went into this project, how disrespectful they were being to the staff and instructors (world class circus people!!!) and how if that's the future of my region, i'm scared. After that little talk.. they were all pretty good.. it started getting better. but we still ended up sending a few of them home.. but after the ones that went home were gone (the most disrputive ones or ones that had crossed lines) the ones who were truely interested in being there could really shine! it was amazing to see how much the mood changed by the middle of the week...
I made some very wonderful young friends that I miss already (They got on their planes home today.. :( they broke my heart by leaving me!!!!).. i got lots of hugs, kisses, snuggles, high fives and even bites from 50 wonderful, beautiful inuit youth. I love them all. I cant even express how much they mean to me now.. they're so lovely, I just want to line them all up and knock them all down like dominoes! <3
One of the girls there really reminded me of myself when i was that age.. it's amazing. I love her and i always, always will.. and another oone of the girls that just amazed me with her talent and her grace and her strength.. she's spending the night with me now that camp is over :) I love it! and the BOYS! oh are the ever CUTE! ugh! such little ladies men! i love love love!
but after all the practicing we did.. the last day was pretty hectic.. we were all exhausted and just drained from the week and that very day, we lost another one of our peers to suicide which really affected the group because he was that same age as all the kids we had with us, and he was friends with many of them, but we had a show t put on and you know the show must go on! it ended up being completely, absolutely, truely, deeply, honestly just AMAZING. breathtaking even. I just dont even have the words to describe it. And teh cherry on top? Susan Aglukark had done a speaking presentation for the kids the day before then also performed at the end of the final show! it was just grand! lol
anyway, i'll try to continue this post more.. im exhausted and its past my girl's curfew and getting worried. it's scary to love someone and be waiting for them at a certain hour and they dont show up when they say they will.... I officially apologize to my parents.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
open letter to all women.
Are you fat? Do you want lean, toned arms that dont jiggle? Do you have what some would call 'thunder thighs'? Seriously, take a good long look at yourself in the mirror... you never had that double chin before, and i bet you could hardly get your jeans on this morning.. hell, i bet you could sniff out any twinky within 500 feet. You should be ashamed of yourself. You are ugly. You are.. you're a heifer.. you'll never find a man with that body.
Sound familiar?.. maybe?..
I dont know about anyone else, but that's the message i get when i see weight loss, clothing, diet or even make up ads. That I am ugly, I should get that foundation.. i have so many blemishes.. Jenny Craig? I could lose 55lbs too?
it's sick.. Women are attacked every single day in mainstream media.. yea, i know i know.. what's new right?
But seriously.. I just wanted to send out a message to all the women out there.. You are not ugly.. you dont need that mascara, or to lose 10lbs (well, maybe you do but do it for your health and not for what people call 'beauty' these days)..
We're under so much pressure to be thin, to be pretty, to be sweet, docile women. We need to be hairless in certain places, if that means painful wax or time consuming shaving.. chemical hair removal.. even laser hair removal.. we need to have legs for days and eyelashes to match.. plumper lips, double D's and a plump round bum is what we need.. I mean.. we want to get married right? and to get pregnant (because you dont want to miss your chance to wear Kim Kardashian's maternity line)..
But think about it.. do you need to lose 10 lbs to be sexy or beautiful? or do you need to lose 10lbs to be healthy? or do you need to lose 10lbs at all?!
Lady you are gorgeous. You're tall, you're short.. you're thin or curvy.. A cups or D cups.. baby you've got it!! you are one amazing creature.. look at your body... it's a miracle! you are a cradle of life! I've never had a baby myself, but I have lots of friends who have.. it never ceases to amaze me what a female body can do! Inside your belly (when you are pregnant), you're constructing hair, bones, skin.. a human being. A human being just like you! you have feelings, you have opinions, you matter! and so will that thing that your body is able to create!
You matter too much to be feeling ugly. You deserve to feel confidant and beautiful because you are! in your own, special, unique way sweetheart you're absolutely magnificent. if you've got thin legs and knobby knees, or thunder thighs like me.. you are a gift wrapped in your own skin.. inside, you are a great person. regardless of what has happened to you in the past or what you've done or felt to/about yourself.. you dont deserve to feel shame. inside is a wonderful, beautiful woman just waiting to take on the world!
We need to start worrying about our mothers in abusive relationships, our sisters on the streets, our cousins who cut themselves or abuse themselves because they dont feel worth it. We need to stop worrying about how we'll manage to fit into that bathing suit by summer, or getting those boots that can accommodate our calves.
We need to redefine beauty. Do it for your daughter.
Sound familiar?.. maybe?..
I dont know about anyone else, but that's the message i get when i see weight loss, clothing, diet or even make up ads. That I am ugly, I should get that foundation.. i have so many blemishes.. Jenny Craig? I could lose 55lbs too?
it's sick.. Women are attacked every single day in mainstream media.. yea, i know i know.. what's new right?
But seriously.. I just wanted to send out a message to all the women out there.. You are not ugly.. you dont need that mascara, or to lose 10lbs (well, maybe you do but do it for your health and not for what people call 'beauty' these days)..
We're under so much pressure to be thin, to be pretty, to be sweet, docile women. We need to be hairless in certain places, if that means painful wax or time consuming shaving.. chemical hair removal.. even laser hair removal.. we need to have legs for days and eyelashes to match.. plumper lips, double D's and a plump round bum is what we need.. I mean.. we want to get married right? and to get pregnant (because you dont want to miss your chance to wear Kim Kardashian's maternity line)..
But think about it.. do you need to lose 10 lbs to be sexy or beautiful? or do you need to lose 10lbs to be healthy? or do you need to lose 10lbs at all?!
Lady you are gorgeous. You're tall, you're short.. you're thin or curvy.. A cups or D cups.. baby you've got it!! you are one amazing creature.. look at your body... it's a miracle! you are a cradle of life! I've never had a baby myself, but I have lots of friends who have.. it never ceases to amaze me what a female body can do! Inside your belly (when you are pregnant), you're constructing hair, bones, skin.. a human being. A human being just like you! you have feelings, you have opinions, you matter! and so will that thing that your body is able to create!
You matter too much to be feeling ugly. You deserve to feel confidant and beautiful because you are! in your own, special, unique way sweetheart you're absolutely magnificent. if you've got thin legs and knobby knees, or thunder thighs like me.. you are a gift wrapped in your own skin.. inside, you are a great person. regardless of what has happened to you in the past or what you've done or felt to/about yourself.. you dont deserve to feel shame. inside is a wonderful, beautiful woman just waiting to take on the world!
We need to start worrying about our mothers in abusive relationships, our sisters on the streets, our cousins who cut themselves or abuse themselves because they dont feel worth it. We need to stop worrying about how we'll manage to fit into that bathing suit by summer, or getting those boots that can accommodate our calves.
We need to redefine beauty. Do it for your daughter.
Friday, July 30, 2010
i love hate it.
I cut my hair, wayy back in october.. Unless you knew me from before that time, you probably dont understand how significant that was for me. My hair!! I loved it.. i did and i still do. but before i cut it, it was the best.. it was, pouffy, curly, long, fabulous! Oh, and it was BIG. Think P!nk in the Lady Marmalade video, yea.. that big. I could pull the curls straight and it was the length of my arm. I knew each and every individual curl, I even had a favorite. My friends loved it, i was like a doll.. they would just play with it, braid it.. even attempt to comb it.
It wasnt just my friends who loved to play with it.. there's something about curly hair that makes people forget all their manners. On the bus, at the air port, in class.. people see curls, they automatically want to bounce them, to touch them, to fluff them up.. to pretend that the owner of that hair didnt wake up two hours early to get it that smooth, then attempt to run their fingers through it.
Anyway, Imagine my life, having to plan around that? I always wore my hair up.. always. It was SO much easier than dealing with people who wanted to touch it (and getting up two hours earlier in the day to deal with it). I'm very low maintenance (i know it might not seem like it but i am!) and I just didnt have the time or patience to really do a lot of crazy styles with it. (Long story short, i really just dont give a fuck)..
I remember growing up, I was the only little black girl in an Inuit community.. my hair was the only afro hair.. my mom had no idea what to do with it. We used to cry together while she attempted to comb it (we laugh about it now, but it was pretty traumatic for both of us).. I remember one day, after i had started combing my own hair (well past age 11).. she randomly said to me "Panik, I was SO happy when you started combing your own hair".. So was I mom. lol
Anyway so.. to get to the point.. When i cut my hair, it was a huge step for me in my life.. it was like a new beginning.. like growing up. I felt different after i cut it, like somehow i was more.. i dont know what i was more of actually.. but it certainly was different. I hated it.
I hated it so much, i hated it. I just dont know how else to say it..lol. it was so.... . . . . . short.. it was the length of my fingernail pulled straight.. i thought i looked like the Jackson 5.. it didnt help that my dad did the moonwalk every time he saw me that day. I cried for about 3 days, i mailed my hair to Angel Hair for Kids and told myself that someone will be so happy to have it.
So, 9 months later? what do i have? I have hair that's an awkward length and i have no clue what to do with it. All my go to fixes are irrelevant. I cant quite put it into an elastic (well i can, but it looks funny), I cant stuff it all under a beret, and the days of hiding under scarves are loong gone (it's too thick for most scarf-y styles to look good and it's too soft to hold anything on).. and it's too long for just a headband to look decent too....
But here it is.. in all of it's short/long/not-too-sure, pouffy, frizzy, curly, crazy, Macy Gray-esque glory...... . . . .my hair. i love/hate it.
It wasnt just my friends who loved to play with it.. there's something about curly hair that makes people forget all their manners. On the bus, at the air port, in class.. people see curls, they automatically want to bounce them, to touch them, to fluff them up.. to pretend that the owner of that hair didnt wake up two hours early to get it that smooth, then attempt to run their fingers through it.
Anyway, Imagine my life, having to plan around that? I always wore my hair up.. always. It was SO much easier than dealing with people who wanted to touch it (and getting up two hours earlier in the day to deal with it). I'm very low maintenance (i know it might not seem like it but i am!) and I just didnt have the time or patience to really do a lot of crazy styles with it. (Long story short, i really just dont give a fuck)..
I remember growing up, I was the only little black girl in an Inuit community.. my hair was the only afro hair.. my mom had no idea what to do with it. We used to cry together while she attempted to comb it (we laugh about it now, but it was pretty traumatic for both of us).. I remember one day, after i had started combing my own hair (well past age 11).. she randomly said to me "Panik, I was SO happy when you started combing your own hair".. So was I mom. lol
Anyway so.. to get to the point.. When i cut my hair, it was a huge step for me in my life.. it was like a new beginning.. like growing up. I felt different after i cut it, like somehow i was more.. i dont know what i was more of actually.. but it certainly was different. I hated it.
I hated it so much, i hated it. I just dont know how else to say it..lol. it was so.... . . . . . short.. it was the length of my fingernail pulled straight.. i thought i looked like the Jackson 5.. it didnt help that my dad did the moonwalk every time he saw me that day. I cried for about 3 days, i mailed my hair to Angel Hair for Kids and told myself that someone will be so happy to have it.
So, 9 months later? what do i have? I have hair that's an awkward length and i have no clue what to do with it. All my go to fixes are irrelevant. I cant quite put it into an elastic (well i can, but it looks funny), I cant stuff it all under a beret, and the days of hiding under scarves are loong gone (it's too thick for most scarf-y styles to look good and it's too soft to hold anything on).. and it's too long for just a headband to look decent too....
But here it is.. in all of it's short/long/not-too-sure, pouffy, frizzy, curly, crazy, Macy Gray-esque glory...... . . . .my hair. i love/hate it.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Inuttituuqqajatsiaquunginama.. There. I said it.
Inuttitut is one of the strongest aboriginal languages in the world. Nunavik has the highest retention rate out of all the Inuit regions in Canada.. everyone speaks inuttitut, everyone understands words here and there, we all understand and even if we dont speak it, we get the point of the conversation. I used to consider myself a fluent inuttitut speaker, but the closer i look at the way i use the language, i'm starting to realize that i'm a bad speaker.
I'm honest to god a bad inuttitut speaker. I dont know the real inuttitut. When i speak, i mix english and inuttitut like it's my job. I mix sentences and even words. Seriously, I cant even complete a word in one language sometimes. Ex: "Mirror-ra sukkulaurtu when i closed the door, slam-kallasugu ilaaniungitu. Then i had to clean the saniks it made. Good thing i didnt kilik" That's the way i speak.. that's how most of my friends speak, we talk to each other like that. It's pathetic.. and the reason i do it is because im just lazy.. I recognize that it's going to be hard twork to change it, there are habits that need breaking and it's a lifestyle choice that im going to have to make.
People talk about the impending loss of the inuttitut language.. they discuss ways of saving it. Meetings, policy and workshops are held regularly to figure out how to keep it alive. But i can feel it dying inside of me.. with every English word i write, with every "hi" n place of "Ai".. every little thing i do, i'm contributing to the death of my mother tongue. It can happen in my lifetime.. mostly because it`s not just me doing it.. my peers all do it, that`s how we communicate with each other. Politicians keep trying to save it.. but none of thier work is of any use if we keep acting the way we do. No policy or workshop can make us change.. it needs to come from within.. we need to stop killing inuttitut.. we need to start speaking it. Properly.
I'm honest to god a bad inuttitut speaker. I dont know the real inuttitut. When i speak, i mix english and inuttitut like it's my job. I mix sentences and even words. Seriously, I cant even complete a word in one language sometimes. Ex: "Mirror-ra sukkulaurtu when i closed the door, slam-kallasugu ilaaniungitu. Then i had to clean the saniks it made. Good thing i didnt kilik" That's the way i speak.. that's how most of my friends speak, we talk to each other like that. It's pathetic.. and the reason i do it is because im just lazy.. I recognize that it's going to be hard twork to change it, there are habits that need breaking and it's a lifestyle choice that im going to have to make.
People talk about the impending loss of the inuttitut language.. they discuss ways of saving it. Meetings, policy and workshops are held regularly to figure out how to keep it alive. But i can feel it dying inside of me.. with every English word i write, with every "hi" n place of "Ai".. every little thing i do, i'm contributing to the death of my mother tongue. It can happen in my lifetime.. mostly because it`s not just me doing it.. my peers all do it, that`s how we communicate with each other. Politicians keep trying to save it.. but none of thier work is of any use if we keep acting the way we do. No policy or workshop can make us change.. it needs to come from within.. we need to stop killing inuttitut.. we need to start speaking it. Properly.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Nunavik House in Rosemont and Villeray
A few months ago, I wrote a note about the abysmal state and location of Nunavik House, I drafted the petition that was then signed by over 200 Nunavimmiut demanding they find a new location.
The area of Notre-Dame-de-Grace that Nunavik House is at present, is one of the most dangerous places in the city of Montreal. The area is crawling with criminal activity; drugs, gangs, cheap motels and seedy bars are everywhere. That place, a place where you can’t walk alone at night, where you can’t escape the pushers and dealers, was the very place we sent our most vulnerable people to live and stay. No wonder there was an uprising, a revolution.. the people, our people, talked among themselves, sharing horror stories and concerns. It started with acceptance, what more could we ask for? We’re being treated by medical professionals in the south with all the newest technology. That quiet acceptance simmered into deep frustration. Why are we being put here? Into these circumstances? That frustration then boiled into anger and genuine fear. This is unacceptable; we have the right to security of person, especially during times of physical fragility.
The Inuit of Nunavik have never suffered for long in silence. We always find our voice at some point and we fight for our rights as Inuit, as Canadians and as human beings. The process is inevitable, we’re nobody’s doormat.
When we received news that Nunavik House will be moved to a safer part of the city, we celebrated. Another battle won, another step in the direction of a healthy society. Now we are being told we’re not welcome? Residents of Rosemont and Villeray launched a vicious, abusive, racist, ignorant campaign against the Nunavik House Project in their community. Their ill informed website (that i personally have not seen) alleged that the coming of Nunavik House would inevitably result in increased crime, drugs, prostitution, and urine smell among other things. Yes, urine smell. I’m no stranger to negative media about Inuit. Believe me, I’ve written post after post about it. But to say that an Inuit residence would bring the smell of urine into your community is, by far the most disgusting, insulting thing I’ve ever heard.
Why is it that the people of Rosemont and Villeray think Inuit would bring these things into their community? We have been begging to leave the very place where those things are abundant. Of course, the only information they hear about the Inuit is how much it sucks to be us. With the suicide rates, high infant mortality, smoking and alcoholism on the front page of every Inuit region, no wonder outsiders assume we’ll bring death and destruction.
When i read the article about Rosemont and Villeray i wanted to be angry. I wanted to become defensive. I wanted to launch a counter-attack on the hurtful message. But the more i think about it, the easier it is to see through their eyes. They don’t know the real story about Inuit –the full story. Inuit have the most gentle hearts, we understand true kindness; we have a beautiful language, we have beautiful art and amazing food. We have so much to offer the world, if they only knew, they would be excited to welcome a new demographic. Inuit could add a whole new cultural dimension to the community. The people of Rosemont and Villeray would no doubt be exposed to some of the most talented artists, to throat singers and elders and big cheeked babies. They could learn the art of the kunik, an Eskimo kiss –the simple joy in the smell of a newborn. They could try nikkuk and the brave ones could try misirak. They would learn so much about fellow Canadians. About people that seem so far removed, but are really, very accessible. The potential for creating peace between Canadian Inuit and their southern counterparts is immense.
Inuit really do have so much to offer, they’ve just been living in fear and uncertainty in NDG. We don’t have the opportunity to spread the beauty in our culture when we’re surrounded by the ugliest parts of urban culture. To the people of Rosemont and Villeray I encourage you to learn more about Inuit, from Inuit. Together, we can create a beautiful mosaic of Canadian culture in the little borough you call home.
The area of Notre-Dame-de-Grace that Nunavik House is at present, is one of the most dangerous places in the city of Montreal. The area is crawling with criminal activity; drugs, gangs, cheap motels and seedy bars are everywhere. That place, a place where you can’t walk alone at night, where you can’t escape the pushers and dealers, was the very place we sent our most vulnerable people to live and stay. No wonder there was an uprising, a revolution.. the people, our people, talked among themselves, sharing horror stories and concerns. It started with acceptance, what more could we ask for? We’re being treated by medical professionals in the south with all the newest technology. That quiet acceptance simmered into deep frustration. Why are we being put here? Into these circumstances? That frustration then boiled into anger and genuine fear. This is unacceptable; we have the right to security of person, especially during times of physical fragility.
The Inuit of Nunavik have never suffered for long in silence. We always find our voice at some point and we fight for our rights as Inuit, as Canadians and as human beings. The process is inevitable, we’re nobody’s doormat.
When we received news that Nunavik House will be moved to a safer part of the city, we celebrated. Another battle won, another step in the direction of a healthy society. Now we are being told we’re not welcome? Residents of Rosemont and Villeray launched a vicious, abusive, racist, ignorant campaign against the Nunavik House Project in their community. Their ill informed website (that i personally have not seen) alleged that the coming of Nunavik House would inevitably result in increased crime, drugs, prostitution, and urine smell among other things. Yes, urine smell. I’m no stranger to negative media about Inuit. Believe me, I’ve written post after post about it. But to say that an Inuit residence would bring the smell of urine into your community is, by far the most disgusting, insulting thing I’ve ever heard.
Why is it that the people of Rosemont and Villeray think Inuit would bring these things into their community? We have been begging to leave the very place where those things are abundant. Of course, the only information they hear about the Inuit is how much it sucks to be us. With the suicide rates, high infant mortality, smoking and alcoholism on the front page of every Inuit region, no wonder outsiders assume we’ll bring death and destruction.
When i read the article about Rosemont and Villeray i wanted to be angry. I wanted to become defensive. I wanted to launch a counter-attack on the hurtful message. But the more i think about it, the easier it is to see through their eyes. They don’t know the real story about Inuit –the full story. Inuit have the most gentle hearts, we understand true kindness; we have a beautiful language, we have beautiful art and amazing food. We have so much to offer the world, if they only knew, they would be excited to welcome a new demographic. Inuit could add a whole new cultural dimension to the community. The people of Rosemont and Villeray would no doubt be exposed to some of the most talented artists, to throat singers and elders and big cheeked babies. They could learn the art of the kunik, an Eskimo kiss –the simple joy in the smell of a newborn. They could try nikkuk and the brave ones could try misirak. They would learn so much about fellow Canadians. About people that seem so far removed, but are really, very accessible. The potential for creating peace between Canadian Inuit and their southern counterparts is immense.
Inuit really do have so much to offer, they’ve just been living in fear and uncertainty in NDG. We don’t have the opportunity to spread the beauty in our culture when we’re surrounded by the ugliest parts of urban culture. To the people of Rosemont and Villeray I encourage you to learn more about Inuit, from Inuit. Together, we can create a beautiful mosaic of Canadian culture in the little borough you call home.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Open Letter to Maria M and Irini T
Dear Irini and Maria, I know i told you both I would be back in the winter semester. It was easier for me in my emotional state to lie, than it was to explain my entire situation and plans that i had already made. I hope you can forgive me for that. I felt the need to write you both, even though you probably might never see this post. It's something that is slowly eating away at me -the guilt of just disappearing from your classrooms so suddenly.
I remember when i started the semester, I was very excited about being in the Liberal Arts program, even jurik (which is an inuttitut word for 'proud/cocky') because I was KSB's first student to enter the program, and i knew very well that i would be able to complete it if i set my mind to it. The thing is tho, that i had never really set my mind to it. I had just completed a year at Nunavut Sivuniksavut, which is an amaaazing post secondary program for Nunavut Students. It was originally created to train field workers to implement the Nunavut Land Claims Agreement. I was one of two students from Nunavik to do the program, the first two actually. The year I spent at NS with my 3 phenomenal classmates and truly gifted instructors shaped me and defined me more than i could have realized.
We spent the year learning, not in the conventional 'teacher teaches you' way, but in a very old way. The way in which Inuit would teach their children before colonial powers took that away. To Inuit, education was not separate from life. Rather life was education, you learn from doing, seeing and being. We learned by trial and error, by conversation, by play and through pain. We experienced a way of learning that we, as first generation 'community inuit' had never been exposed to. We were not taken from the land into schools as our parents were, they are the generation that was forced to learn a new way of learning. We are the generation that only knows the new way of learning. Your way of learning; your way of teaching. You stand at the front of the room with your chalk and your notes and you feed us information. You feed us what you have been told is important, so you tell us it's important.
Irini, I know you're passionate about the ancient philosophers, it's obvious in the way you teach and know. I admire that in you. Your history is that of Socrates and Plato, you can trace your roots back to them, they provide you with the wisdom through which you see the world. They give you the foundations upon which you live and function in the world, even 2000 years later. It's beautiful because it works for you. It applies to you, whereas it does not apply to me. I don't care about what they thought of fire, water, bile and blood. Their wisdom, as valuable and legitimate as it is, doesn't belong in my world. I grew up with the arctic sun, chasing lemmings under ply wood and catching fish from the streams with my hands. My grandfather took me hunting, my grandmother taught me to be an inuit woman. She even threw a party for me when i threaded my first needle. They have since passed, but their wisdom is what I need. I can take ownership of that knowledge. I cannot take ownership of what Aristotle says, you can; i can acknowledge, i can listen and discuss, but i can't give that knowledge a home in me. Not when my nukak is still alive to pass her knowledge of my people, my history and my peoples' philosophy.
Maria, I loved you. I think you're such a sweet, fun, charismatic teacher. I would go to your classes just to be around your energy. I know you were teaching the 'world's' religions strictly from an academic point of view, not because you are or are not religious. I know that our journey into the bible, the torrah and the greeks' mythology was just for education, so that we could understand the way those books have shaped the world. But please understand that I have come from a culture that has been destroyed by the 'truths' in the bible. My people didnt even have a place in the creation story. Genesis gives 'us' the 'truth' of creation and purpose. It's there to ultimately explain our role as human beings on earth. But it's very exclusive in its explanations. Genesis is the story of farmers, sedentary people whose ultimate goal is to procreate -tame the land and multiply, that's what god wishes of humans. For them to go forth and conquer and use land; to reshape it and colonize it as they see fit, the land was given to them to use. The Inuit way of life is considered savage and sub-human in the bible's idea of humanity. Even to this day, academic and lay people alike consider the 'hunter-gatherer' prehistoric and underdeveloped. The ability to survive in the natural world is seen as 'wild' and the idea that one needs to control the environment is 'progressive'. We (Inuit) live in what agriculturalists consider the margins of the inhabitable world. You couldn't grow a pile of shit if you tried. Trying to take what the bible says and apply it to life in the world of 24 hour darkness and -40 temperatures is next to impossible (I know, all the religious Inuit are going to be offended by this post. I'm sorry, I dont really care).
Anyway, Irini and Maria.. I really just wanted to apologize and thank you as well. Thank you for trying to help me. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for everything you do. Keep teaching, you're both excellent at it.
p.s. I'm sorry i never did any of the readings or put any effort into the papers. Seriously, I am sorry, not just to you guys but to myself. I could have gained a lot..
I remember when i started the semester, I was very excited about being in the Liberal Arts program, even jurik (which is an inuttitut word for 'proud/cocky') because I was KSB's first student to enter the program, and i knew very well that i would be able to complete it if i set my mind to it. The thing is tho, that i had never really set my mind to it. I had just completed a year at Nunavut Sivuniksavut, which is an amaaazing post secondary program for Nunavut Students. It was originally created to train field workers to implement the Nunavut Land Claims Agreement. I was one of two students from Nunavik to do the program, the first two actually. The year I spent at NS with my 3 phenomenal classmates and truly gifted instructors shaped me and defined me more than i could have realized.
We spent the year learning, not in the conventional 'teacher teaches you' way, but in a very old way. The way in which Inuit would teach their children before colonial powers took that away. To Inuit, education was not separate from life. Rather life was education, you learn from doing, seeing and being. We learned by trial and error, by conversation, by play and through pain. We experienced a way of learning that we, as first generation 'community inuit' had never been exposed to. We were not taken from the land into schools as our parents were, they are the generation that was forced to learn a new way of learning. We are the generation that only knows the new way of learning. Your way of learning; your way of teaching. You stand at the front of the room with your chalk and your notes and you feed us information. You feed us what you have been told is important, so you tell us it's important.
Irini, I know you're passionate about the ancient philosophers, it's obvious in the way you teach and know. I admire that in you. Your history is that of Socrates and Plato, you can trace your roots back to them, they provide you with the wisdom through which you see the world. They give you the foundations upon which you live and function in the world, even 2000 years later. It's beautiful because it works for you. It applies to you, whereas it does not apply to me. I don't care about what they thought of fire, water, bile and blood. Their wisdom, as valuable and legitimate as it is, doesn't belong in my world. I grew up with the arctic sun, chasing lemmings under ply wood and catching fish from the streams with my hands. My grandfather took me hunting, my grandmother taught me to be an inuit woman. She even threw a party for me when i threaded my first needle. They have since passed, but their wisdom is what I need. I can take ownership of that knowledge. I cannot take ownership of what Aristotle says, you can; i can acknowledge, i can listen and discuss, but i can't give that knowledge a home in me. Not when my nukak is still alive to pass her knowledge of my people, my history and my peoples' philosophy.
Maria, I loved you. I think you're such a sweet, fun, charismatic teacher. I would go to your classes just to be around your energy. I know you were teaching the 'world's' religions strictly from an academic point of view, not because you are or are not religious. I know that our journey into the bible, the torrah and the greeks' mythology was just for education, so that we could understand the way those books have shaped the world. But please understand that I have come from a culture that has been destroyed by the 'truths' in the bible. My people didnt even have a place in the creation story. Genesis gives 'us' the 'truth' of creation and purpose. It's there to ultimately explain our role as human beings on earth. But it's very exclusive in its explanations. Genesis is the story of farmers, sedentary people whose ultimate goal is to procreate -tame the land and multiply, that's what god wishes of humans. For them to go forth and conquer and use land; to reshape it and colonize it as they see fit, the land was given to them to use. The Inuit way of life is considered savage and sub-human in the bible's idea of humanity. Even to this day, academic and lay people alike consider the 'hunter-gatherer' prehistoric and underdeveloped. The ability to survive in the natural world is seen as 'wild' and the idea that one needs to control the environment is 'progressive'. We (Inuit) live in what agriculturalists consider the margins of the inhabitable world. You couldn't grow a pile of shit if you tried. Trying to take what the bible says and apply it to life in the world of 24 hour darkness and -40 temperatures is next to impossible (I know, all the religious Inuit are going to be offended by this post. I'm sorry, I dont really care).
Anyway, Irini and Maria.. I really just wanted to apologize and thank you as well. Thank you for trying to help me. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for everything you do. Keep teaching, you're both excellent at it.
p.s. I'm sorry i never did any of the readings or put any effort into the papers. Seriously, I am sorry, not just to you guys but to myself. I could have gained a lot..
Thursday, April 22, 2010
I am a flake, a poor, lost, confused little wanna-be birdie... help!!
the other day, i was talking to my dad about.. i dunno.. stuff.. we dont spend a lot of time together, only because we're always living in different places, so whenever we do finally get together we sort of 'catch up' on whats going on in our lives.
Then the subject of my future came up -as it usually does- and yea.. Those who really know me know that i'm a total flake. I have so many hopes and dreams and big ideas... I have so many opportunities and interests, and no focus.
Anyway, the conversation went like this:
Then the subject of my future came up -as it usually does- and yea.. Those who really know me know that i'm a total flake. I have so many hopes and dreams and big ideas... I have so many opportunities and interests, and no focus.
Anyway, the conversation went like this:
Me: I want to learn to fly a plane. I wish more than anything i was born a bird, I want to be like Amelia Earhart.. i love Amelia Earhart.. I could get my private license in like a year at Cornwall.. but i dunno if i can live with KSB again right away.. it's not like i would become a pilot.. i just want to be able to fly a plane.. I also want to learn how to para sail.. you know, jump off cliffs with those giant kite wings.. I wish i could fly. But that's kind of unlikely right away.
Dad: well, KSB does offer the flying course at Cornwall.. but Air Inuit dosent need any new pilots right away, it would be hard for you to get a job
Me: I know, but like i said.. i wouldnt make it a career. i just wanna know how... that's probly not gonna happen right away tho. It depends on whether i renew my contract with NYHA.. if i do renew, i want to try to live in Montreal. I bet i could work from there since i travel a lot for work anyway.. there's no real need for me to be based here, it's almost not fair to all the other communities i supervise :P
Dad: When would you have to decide by?
Me: i want to move in like july if i do.. its 'moving season' right?.. but that's ONLY if i can renew my contract and live there too... i dont want to have to look for a different job. I would need a decent roommate too.. But I'm also seriously considering taking a midwifery course here. They have them in either POV, Inukjuak, Salluit and Kuujjuaq.. I would take it in Kuujjuaq or Inukjuak probably. Ajak said i can live with her in Kuujjuaq and have her car while im there.. Plus it would be cool to live in Kuujjuaq for a bit. I always thought it was cool that Anna was a midwife, plus so many of my friends have babies.. I'm just amazed by the human body, the female body! I feel like hospitals are a harsh environment to give birth in.. so impersonal and cold and rushed.. I think i would make a good midwife too..
Dad: that's cool that you're interested in midwifery, we definitely need more inuit midwives in Nunavik, especially on the Ungava side. It's amazing that [then he gave me some statistics about something, comparing the Hudson and Ungava hospitals on the maternity service they offer that i cant remember exactly and i dont want to misquote anyone] .. so something about only 20% of women on the Hudson coast had [that procedure where they cut to ease birth] compared to 80% on the Ungava coast. (or something like that)
Me: I'd also want to do a couple of contracts with Doctors Without Boarders as a midwife.. the website says they're always looking for midwives.. but the again, all i want to do is write. I want to take journalism in University.
Dad: then write!
Me: I do! dont you read my blog? i write a lot that i dont publish too.. it's pretty much all i do lately.. but if i were to take journalism, i would want to do it somewhere...like England!.. or something.. maybe Scandinavia?.. they have free university, but maybe i would rather live in an English speaking country to study journalism.. I'm already confused about languages in my head.. But KSB only funds school within Quebec and Canada.. I would need to find a way to finance it........................ I dunno!! I really dont know!!!
Dad: I wish i could have recorded this conversation. You just gave me like 4 completely different things you're interested in. you should take a career aptitude test
Me: But I KNOW what im interested in.. there's just so much that i cant focus on one thing
Dad: well, im glad you;re looking into different things, then you;ll eventually find the one you love...
And that, ladies and gentlemen is my dilemma.. I have no idea what to do with my life. I'm sorry to say too that this conversation outlines only a fraction of what i actually think about doing. If you have any advice at all.. any direction or suggestion you think i could use.. please dont hesitate to say it! I welcome (and actually kind of request) your input!
What should i DO?
Dad: well, KSB does offer the flying course at Cornwall.. but Air Inuit dosent need any new pilots right away, it would be hard for you to get a job
Me: I know, but like i said.. i wouldnt make it a career. i just wanna know how... that's probly not gonna happen right away tho. It depends on whether i renew my contract with NYHA.. if i do renew, i want to try to live in Montreal. I bet i could work from there since i travel a lot for work anyway.. there's no real need for me to be based here, it's almost not fair to all the other communities i supervise :P
Dad: When would you have to decide by?
Me: i want to move in like july if i do.. its 'moving season' right?.. but that's ONLY if i can renew my contract and live there too... i dont want to have to look for a different job. I would need a decent roommate too.. But I'm also seriously considering taking a midwifery course here. They have them in either POV, Inukjuak, Salluit and Kuujjuaq.. I would take it in Kuujjuaq or Inukjuak probably. Ajak said i can live with her in Kuujjuaq and have her car while im there.. Plus it would be cool to live in Kuujjuaq for a bit. I always thought it was cool that Anna was a midwife, plus so many of my friends have babies.. I'm just amazed by the human body, the female body! I feel like hospitals are a harsh environment to give birth in.. so impersonal and cold and rushed.. I think i would make a good midwife too..
Dad: that's cool that you're interested in midwifery, we definitely need more inuit midwives in Nunavik, especially on the Ungava side. It's amazing that [then he gave me some statistics about something, comparing the Hudson and Ungava hospitals on the maternity service they offer that i cant remember exactly and i dont want to misquote anyone] .. so something about only 20% of women on the Hudson coast had [that procedure where they cut to ease birth] compared to 80% on the Ungava coast. (or something like that)
Me: I'd also want to do a couple of contracts with Doctors Without Boarders as a midwife.. the website says they're always looking for midwives.. but the again, all i want to do is write. I want to take journalism in University.
Dad: then write!
Me: I do! dont you read my blog? i write a lot that i dont publish too.. it's pretty much all i do lately.. but if i were to take journalism, i would want to do it somewhere...like England!.. or something.. maybe Scandinavia?.. they have free university, but maybe i would rather live in an English speaking country to study journalism.. I'm already confused about languages in my head.. But KSB only funds school within Quebec and Canada.. I would need to find a way to finance it........................ I dunno!! I really dont know!!!
Dad: I wish i could have recorded this conversation. You just gave me like 4 completely different things you're interested in. you should take a career aptitude test
Me: But I KNOW what im interested in.. there's just so much that i cant focus on one thing
Dad: well, im glad you;re looking into different things, then you;ll eventually find the one you love...
And that, ladies and gentlemen is my dilemma.. I have no idea what to do with my life. I'm sorry to say too that this conversation outlines only a fraction of what i actually think about doing. If you have any advice at all.. any direction or suggestion you think i could use.. please dont hesitate to say it! I welcome (and actually kind of request) your input!
What should i DO?
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Mmmm....
I love amazing food. I completely love it. it's probably one of my favorite things in life, the sensation of taste.. think about it! how often do you just eat to fill your stomach or kill time? now, how often do you actually enjoy your food?.. really really enjoy it and appreciate it for everything its is -sticky, gooey, sweet, savory, creamy, crunchy, flaky, smooth, hot, delicious... Mmmmmm..
I make a point of enjoying whatever it is I'm eating everyday. I just love food that much. Even if it's just bread and cheese, or fish eyes or banana split or leg of lamb or chocolate cheese cake or roast chicken or anything in the world.. just love it.
anyway, now that you know my opinion on food.. i will get to the point.......
I woke up this morning thinking about pancakes. Not just any pancakes. Perfect pancakes... Pancakes with my simplified cheesecake filling (I love raw cheese cake so much that i have a cream cheese recipe that requires no cooking but is exactly like cheesecake batter.. SO easy but it's a secret. sorry.).. cooked fruit filling (or topping in this case), melted milk chocolate (fondue) whipped cream and crushed cashews.. and maybe even ice cream! (I truely, deeply believe that anything in the world can be improved significantly by simply adding ice cream and drizzled chocolate.. seriously, try it sometime).. I was determined to have those pancakes today. But, of course the day ended up being pretty hectic.. first day back to work after an incredibly long easter break, mom travelling and a bunch of little things every friggin minute (yea, it was one of those days).. So, after 6 pots of amazing coffee, a canceled flight, a criminal record check and a near crash on icy roads, I could finally, finally start thinking about those pancakes.
I went over to my best friend's house in the evening, I had bought a pancake mix that requires no egg (usually, I make my own batter, but in a community of 180ish, small luxuries like eggs are not always available at your convenience) and brought it there earlier in the day, while she was out.. anyway, i barged into her kitchen (which is also mostly mine sometimes because i use it so often) and started making pancakes. I mixed the batter, adding cinnamon and sugar to try to mask the store-bought-ness of it.. but.. it was.. i dunno.........off......... for some reason, it didnt taste right, and i asked L (my friend, whose name i'll keep confidential) to try it.. she tasted it and said the same thing. I was like.. 'Fuck. no pancakes today? :( '.. then we asked our old friend (who is in town for work) to try and he said it was fine....... ok........ so i put it in the pan and just hoped it would be better cooked. It was. Thank god. thank freakin' god.
Mmmm but that was just the begining.. we had some frozen berries and a brand new slap chop to experiment with.. i like to keep things relatively simple, so after having my fun with the incredibly frustrating Slap Chop!.. i just put the berries in a saucepan with some sugar.. so simple, so amazing.
Mmmmmmmm and then my cream cheese filling.. sorry.. no recipe details :P naah naaah nah naaah naaaaah!.. But i will say that mixing cream cheese and milk requires a whisk for best presentation. If you just use a fork it looks kind of cottage cheese-y.. i didnt really care, so i left it that way at first... then L had to make some stupid vagina comment and i had to whisk it. I just had to.
The best part (besides eating it) was plating it.. Imagine two whole wheat pancakes with a BIG spoonful of cream cheese icing, cooked, warm berry filling and hot drizzled chocolate.. I wish i had my camera with me (I never think to bring it places).. oh! it's mouthwatering just picturing it back.. Mmmmmmmmmm.... **que long, awkward food porn fantasy***
yum.. it was yum.
The moral of this, ladies and gentlemen is....... Enjoy the hell out of your food. It's amazing and delicious and it pretty much keeps you alive.. need anymore convincing?
I make a point of enjoying whatever it is I'm eating everyday. I just love food that much. Even if it's just bread and cheese, or fish eyes or banana split or leg of lamb or chocolate cheese cake or roast chicken or anything in the world.. just love it.
anyway, now that you know my opinion on food.. i will get to the point.......
I woke up this morning thinking about pancakes. Not just any pancakes. Perfect pancakes... Pancakes with my simplified cheesecake filling (I love raw cheese cake so much that i have a cream cheese recipe that requires no cooking but is exactly like cheesecake batter.. SO easy but it's a secret. sorry.).. cooked fruit filling (or topping in this case), melted milk chocolate (fondue) whipped cream and crushed cashews.. and maybe even ice cream! (I truely, deeply believe that anything in the world can be improved significantly by simply adding ice cream and drizzled chocolate.. seriously, try it sometime).. I was determined to have those pancakes today. But, of course the day ended up being pretty hectic.. first day back to work after an incredibly long easter break, mom travelling and a bunch of little things every friggin minute (yea, it was one of those days).. So, after 6 pots of amazing coffee, a canceled flight, a criminal record check and a near crash on icy roads, I could finally, finally start thinking about those pancakes.
I went over to my best friend's house in the evening, I had bought a pancake mix that requires no egg (usually, I make my own batter, but in a community of 180ish, small luxuries like eggs are not always available at your convenience) and brought it there earlier in the day, while she was out.. anyway, i barged into her kitchen (which is also mostly mine sometimes because i use it so often) and started making pancakes. I mixed the batter, adding cinnamon and sugar to try to mask the store-bought-ness of it.. but.. it was.. i dunno.........off......... for some reason, it didnt taste right, and i asked L (my friend, whose name i'll keep confidential) to try it.. she tasted it and said the same thing. I was like.. 'Fuck. no pancakes today? :( '.. then we asked our old friend (who is in town for work) to try and he said it was fine....... ok........ so i put it in the pan and just hoped it would be better cooked. It was. Thank god. thank freakin' god.
Mmmm but that was just the begining.. we had some frozen berries and a brand new slap chop to experiment with.. i like to keep things relatively simple, so after having my fun with the incredibly frustrating Slap Chop!.. i just put the berries in a saucepan with some sugar.. so simple, so amazing.
Mmmmmmmm and then my cream cheese filling.. sorry.. no recipe details :P naah naaah nah naaah naaaaah!.. But i will say that mixing cream cheese and milk requires a whisk for best presentation. If you just use a fork it looks kind of cottage cheese-y.. i didnt really care, so i left it that way at first... then L had to make some stupid vagina comment and i had to whisk it. I just had to.
The best part (besides eating it) was plating it.. Imagine two whole wheat pancakes with a BIG spoonful of cream cheese icing, cooked, warm berry filling and hot drizzled chocolate.. I wish i had my camera with me (I never think to bring it places).. oh! it's mouthwatering just picturing it back.. Mmmmmmmmmm.... **que long, awkward food porn fantasy***
yum.. it was yum.
The moral of this, ladies and gentlemen is....... Enjoy the hell out of your food. It's amazing and delicious and it pretty much keeps you alive.. need anymore convincing?
Monday, March 29, 2010
she knows very well..
She talks and she speaks and she wants to be heard.
she yells and she screams, she just wants to be heard.
all she wants is to give to the world.
with her words
with her stories, her stories of pain and her hurt.
she pains and she hurts and it just dosent work.
no ears to listen no eyes to read. what will it take for the world to take heed?
who wants to listen to a little girl? nobody, that's who. Because nobody cares. she knows this, she knows this; and yet she speaks out.
she speaks and she speaks and she screams and she shouts.
The deaf ears will hear, one day, they will and she knows this, she knows this. she knows very well.
so she speaks and she speaks with her sweet little voice.
one day they will hear her, and they will rejoice
at the sound of this sweet little girl's lovely voice.
then her words, all her words, her poems her prose
will grace this wide world; then we're all gonna know....
she yells and she screams, she just wants to be heard.
all she wants is to give to the world.
with her words
with her stories, her stories of pain and her hurt.
she pains and she hurts and it just dosent work.
no ears to listen no eyes to read. what will it take for the world to take heed?
who wants to listen to a little girl? nobody, that's who. Because nobody cares. she knows this, she knows this; and yet she speaks out.
she speaks and she speaks and she screams and she shouts.
The deaf ears will hear, one day, they will and she knows this, she knows this. she knows very well.
so she speaks and she speaks with her sweet little voice.
one day they will hear her, and they will rejoice
at the sound of this sweet little girl's lovely voice.
then her words, all her words, her poems her prose
will grace this wide world; then we're all gonna know....
they would always remain..
She's lost as she walks all these gray city blocks..
all these hours and hours she takes from the clock.. just wandering; lost; the young lady walks
She walks and she walks with no destination -impressive- almost with pure dedication..
She knows she can find that road she must take.. She knows that she knows the right choices to make.
And yet, for some reason the girl remains lost. She stays on these cold and these gray city blocks.
They know her too well and she knows them right back. She knows every alley, each brick and each crack.
They know all her flaws and all her setbacks.
To them, she can wave her imperfect flag, and yet their support for her still wouldn't lag.
the pillars she had in these gray city blocks, were solid, and steady. Her foundation. Her rock.
and with this false sense of security came, her fear and her pain.. they would always remain.
with her, they stayed and that's why she was lost..
the fear and the pain of leaving her past, were overwhelming and scary..
Why cant it just last? she thinks to herself..
Sugami, sugami, why cant it last?...
all these hours and hours she takes from the clock.. just wandering; lost; the young lady walks
She walks and she walks with no destination -impressive- almost with pure dedication..
She knows she can find that road she must take.. She knows that she knows the right choices to make.
And yet, for some reason the girl remains lost. She stays on these cold and these gray city blocks.
They know her too well and she knows them right back. She knows every alley, each brick and each crack.
They know all her flaws and all her setbacks.
To them, she can wave her imperfect flag, and yet their support for her still wouldn't lag.
the pillars she had in these gray city blocks, were solid, and steady. Her foundation. Her rock.
and with this false sense of security came, her fear and her pain.. they would always remain.
with her, they stayed and that's why she was lost..
the fear and the pain of leaving her past, were overwhelming and scary..
Why cant it just last? she thinks to herself..
Sugami, sugami, why cant it last?...
Thursday, March 18, 2010
why yes, that IS my hair....
"Janice! is that your hair?"
"Yes, that is my hair!"
----------------------------
My funny, curly hair.. apparently it's "special"
.. it cant just be my hair, on my head.. it never has been.. never has been.....
"It's amazing!"
"It feels like quniruq*"
"BOING!"
....
..........
................
...What would you do?..
.. if you were me...
Wouldnt you just want to scream?
i do.
sometimes, i wish to make a scene.....
To scream!
and shout!
and make it heard:
"It's just my hair.. it's just my hair. It's on my head. It grows & curls & tangles & is..
...cant we just let it be?"
*qunuruq is eiderdown
"Yes, that is my hair!"
----------------------------
My funny, curly hair.. apparently it's "special"
.. it cant just be my hair, on my head.. it never has been.. never has been.....
"It's amazing!"
"It feels like quniruq*"
"BOING!"
....
..........
................
...What would you do?..
.. if you were me...
Wouldnt you just want to scream?
i do.
sometimes, i wish to make a scene.....
To scream!
and shout!
and make it heard:
"It's just my hair.. it's just my hair. It's on my head. It grows & curls & tangles & is..
...cant we just let it be?"
*qunuruq is eiderdown
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
survival
March 4th, 2010.. I sit here in my big warm house, music playing, stained glass pictures hanging in the windows.. eating tomato basil cheese on German rye bread.. imagine me 70 years ago.. 7 in the morning, i would probably be up, preparing seal skins or on the ice fishing, maybe sewing parkas and kamiks for my family (at 20, i would certainly have a family already)..
the point i'm trying to make here is that, colonization, as much as i've bitched and whined about it in previous posts and conversations (maybe not necessarily on this blog) does have its benefits.. as my blogger friend Mr. TJ Akulukjuk, pointed out in his post about colonization a few weeks back..
point made, i want to focus on what that means for people in the north, rather than someone living in the city..
I'm home right now in Aupaluk, Nunavik on the Ungava Coast of Northern Quebec (one of the '13 must experience now' winter destinations in Canada.. yeeaa boii). The caribou are no where to be seen, i think the entire Ungava coast is experiencing the same phenomenon.. the George River herd has completely disappeared into thin air, it's unusual because this area is generally the winter home of this particular herd and only once in my life do i ever remember them missing.. There havent been any seals in Hopes Advance Bay (my little inlet off Ungava) and even if there were, the danger of venturing out on to the volatile sea ice is becoming more of a gamble every day (every day, every plastic bag and water bottle, every time you use your car and eat factory farmed meat, every Copenhagen failure and COP-BIS.. juust sayin')..
70 years ago today, under these conditions, we would be hungry. We would be hungry, starving, eating the seal skin of our kamiks and the caribou hides of our beds. My mother's aunt (my nukak, complicated inuit kinship.. maybe i'll explain in another post) talks about the times when they would be hungry. She would eat her seal skin boots. This woman is here today, having survived times of famine because she ate seal skin clothing.
I know i know! I'm sick and tired of that debate as well.. but it's still going on whether we care or want to hear it or not.. it still exists. A group if european activists sitting comfortably in their developed countries have made it their life's mission to tarnish the reputation of seal skins. Do they even understand the significance of such a (by)product in the lives of thousands of circumpolar peoples around the world? This is not factory farming, it's not organized agricultural domestication and domination of living, feeling animals. This is a traditional practice dominated by the seasons the earth and the times.. and these times are tough already for those who depend on seal meat and skin..
I know very well that times have changed (obviously, i have a laptop and a blog), we do not live in igloos anymore (and -this is a common misconception, but we do have running water and flushing toilets), we do indeed have stores where we can buy food, but where does that food come from? That ground beef from the Coop or Northern.. where was it born and raised before it ended up on our plate? what happened to it's hide after its journey through the slaughter house? how on earth did it get from its original home to a freezer on the 55th parallel?.. that poor cow's life was predetermined generations before it was born. And that's what people expect us to want to eat? a poor defenseless animal who literally had no chance at life?
the traditional seal hunt is a complex and beautiful thing. A man can only wait patiently for his prey, with no guarantee that it will even come. Tradition says that a seal will only give itself to a hunter if he is worthy of it. There is a relationship between the hunter and the seal, the hunter and the community and the community and the sea (as in ocean, not a typo).. As long as there is a balance there will be prosperity for all, human, seal, everything.. even in times of imbalance, when seals wont give themselves to hunters, there was always the skin to fall back on.
today, we have been stripped of the opportunity to fall back on seal skins. We need to buy our food because the land is not sustaining us as it used to. We need money to buy our food. Money that is actually hard to come by in these remote regions. Money we could have made at a community level through the sales of seal skins.
People truly do not realize the interconnectedness of their actions on the global village. We are starving for the old ways, for the right to self government, the right to health, food and culture. Our people and our traditions will soon be washed away, melted into the sea of globalization in the same way that Tuvalu and Yap and Barbados and Seychelles will be washed away if our glaciers continue to be attacked.
Since when is it ok to destroy entire nations in the name of development?.. hmm, what a naive question.. I guess it's always been accepted that that's the way to progress.. but now those under the thumb of imperialistic capitalism are rising up and defending themselves. All we ask is that you understand where we are coming from. We just want to live in peace, in comfort.. we want our families to be safe and fed. We want our grandchildren to know their roots.. to the people of the arctic and the small island states of the world, that is not going to happen if global progress continues in this direction.
some of you may remember the chant "Tuvalu Survival" from the Copenhagen conference.. here's one for you "Uvangalu Survival"
Uvangalu, meaning me too in Inuktitut.
all this, in love..
the point i'm trying to make here is that, colonization, as much as i've bitched and whined about it in previous posts and conversations (maybe not necessarily on this blog) does have its benefits.. as my blogger friend Mr. TJ Akulukjuk, pointed out in his post about colonization a few weeks back..
point made, i want to focus on what that means for people in the north, rather than someone living in the city..
I'm home right now in Aupaluk, Nunavik on the Ungava Coast of Northern Quebec (one of the '13 must experience now' winter destinations in Canada.. yeeaa boii). The caribou are no where to be seen, i think the entire Ungava coast is experiencing the same phenomenon.. the George River herd has completely disappeared into thin air, it's unusual because this area is generally the winter home of this particular herd and only once in my life do i ever remember them missing.. There havent been any seals in Hopes Advance Bay (my little inlet off Ungava) and even if there were, the danger of venturing out on to the volatile sea ice is becoming more of a gamble every day (every day, every plastic bag and water bottle, every time you use your car and eat factory farmed meat, every Copenhagen failure and COP-BIS.. juust sayin')..
70 years ago today, under these conditions, we would be hungry. We would be hungry, starving, eating the seal skin of our kamiks and the caribou hides of our beds. My mother's aunt (my nukak, complicated inuit kinship.. maybe i'll explain in another post) talks about the times when they would be hungry. She would eat her seal skin boots. This woman is here today, having survived times of famine because she ate seal skin clothing.
I know i know! I'm sick and tired of that debate as well.. but it's still going on whether we care or want to hear it or not.. it still exists. A group if european activists sitting comfortably in their developed countries have made it their life's mission to tarnish the reputation of seal skins. Do they even understand the significance of such a (by)product in the lives of thousands of circumpolar peoples around the world? This is not factory farming, it's not organized agricultural domestication and domination of living, feeling animals. This is a traditional practice dominated by the seasons the earth and the times.. and these times are tough already for those who depend on seal meat and skin..
I know very well that times have changed (obviously, i have a laptop and a blog), we do not live in igloos anymore (and -this is a common misconception, but we do have running water and flushing toilets), we do indeed have stores where we can buy food, but where does that food come from? That ground beef from the Coop or Northern.. where was it born and raised before it ended up on our plate? what happened to it's hide after its journey through the slaughter house? how on earth did it get from its original home to a freezer on the 55th parallel?.. that poor cow's life was predetermined generations before it was born. And that's what people expect us to want to eat? a poor defenseless animal who literally had no chance at life?
the traditional seal hunt is a complex and beautiful thing. A man can only wait patiently for his prey, with no guarantee that it will even come. Tradition says that a seal will only give itself to a hunter if he is worthy of it. There is a relationship between the hunter and the seal, the hunter and the community and the community and the sea (as in ocean, not a typo).. As long as there is a balance there will be prosperity for all, human, seal, everything.. even in times of imbalance, when seals wont give themselves to hunters, there was always the skin to fall back on.
today, we have been stripped of the opportunity to fall back on seal skins. We need to buy our food because the land is not sustaining us as it used to. We need money to buy our food. Money that is actually hard to come by in these remote regions. Money we could have made at a community level through the sales of seal skins.
People truly do not realize the interconnectedness of their actions on the global village. We are starving for the old ways, for the right to self government, the right to health, food and culture. Our people and our traditions will soon be washed away, melted into the sea of globalization in the same way that Tuvalu and Yap and Barbados and Seychelles will be washed away if our glaciers continue to be attacked.
Since when is it ok to destroy entire nations in the name of development?.. hmm, what a naive question.. I guess it's always been accepted that that's the way to progress.. but now those under the thumb of imperialistic capitalism are rising up and defending themselves. All we ask is that you understand where we are coming from. We just want to live in peace, in comfort.. we want our families to be safe and fed. We want our grandchildren to know their roots.. to the people of the arctic and the small island states of the world, that is not going to happen if global progress continues in this direction.
some of you may remember the chant "Tuvalu Survival" from the Copenhagen conference.. here's one for you "Uvangalu Survival"
Uvangalu, meaning me too in Inuktitut.
all this, in love..
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Warning: some very disturbing things about arctic climate change are in this post.
So, I'm in Ottawa for the IPY Early results workshops. For those of you who dont know what IPY stands for, its International Polar Year. It's global initiative to encourage, promote and better polar research, in both northern and southern poles. One of the main focuses of IPY Canada is integrating indigenous knowledge into the research they do. although 'year' is singular, IPY is actually more of a 5 year initiative..
Anyway, I'm here just kind of tagging along with some delegates from Nunavik. I've been to quite a few IPY events but this is my first one completely on my own, not as part of a group or organization so i thought i'd somehow make my time here productive and do daily debriefs of what i saw happen.
The conference is being held at the Chateau Laurier (i know, right!).. which i think is completely ridiculous. They're paying for 200 people to stay at this crazy posh hotel AND have workshops in the conference rooms that talk about 'how to include northerners in all aspects of research'. Well, I have a little hint.. Maybe, instead of spending $300/person for hotels plus whatever it costs to use the conference facilities, maybe -now, forgive me if this is too much to ask- but maayybe you could have had this conference in the north? Then the people could hear about it, talk about it.. it might even envoke a desire to become active participants in the process. But no, we're here in Ottawa (I've been to IPY meetings in Quebec City and Geneva).. just another conference in the south. I think that sometimes, certain types of people take themselves way too seriously. I will not apologize for saying that.
Anyway, enough criticism, I do actually love the idea of IPY and everything it has accomplished for northern research. This morning, Dave Carlson, the head of thr entire program, gave a really interesting talk about a few things that i think should be shared (it's dave's birthday today by the way!).. he had a 5 point presentation that was a) very, very relevant to Inuit and Northerners, b) almost completely jargon free.. which is completely awesome for someone who's totally non-scientific like me and c) short and sweet, what more could you ask for? *note that i only mention a few of his 5 points because some things, i need to do more research on before i can be comfortable to write about them
1. Recent Arctic Climate: a multi-millennial study on the arctic climate showed that, yes, climate does fluctuate and the arctic does have warm(er) periods.. BUT the baseline year he talked about, 1950, there was an incredible spike in arctic temperature.. it's like the line of the graph sat on a pin and shot into space. Point being? Arctic temperatures in the last 60 years are warmer then they have ever been.
2. Sea Ice extent: in 2007, they started predicting what the ice extent would be for the next fall. This was kind of iffy, but they did it anyway.. the point of this is that even tho in '07 they werent really sure of their estimates, they are getting significanly better at it, so look out for the next estimates for sea ice extent in the next year, they might be pretty accurate. He also showed a graph of sea ice in 2000 compared to 2009.. scary shit..
3. Sea Ice Thickness: He showed a graph with the years 2000-09 that showed how thick the ice was during March (the beginning of melting season), the graph included melt and recovery. Melting patterns were prety much stable throughout the 9 years, but it was the recovery that should cause concern. Each year, the Ice didnt recover quite as well as before untill, in '09 it reached almost half of what it was in 2000 (4 milion square Km in 2000 compared to 2.5 in 2009). He gave a really good example to explain it better. Think of it as breathing.. ice melts it exhales, ice recovers, it inhales. get it?
4. Ice Sheets and Sea Level-- i wasnt really sure how to synthesize this portian.. but check out 'the Copenhagen Diagnosis'
5. Permafrost and Carbon: We have more carbon in the first 3 meters of (canadian)permafrost that we do currently in the atmosphere. 'nuff said.. I could write a whole post about this topic, and i intend to.. but not right now. (just a fact that everyone should know: there is 2x the carbon in Eastern Siberian Sea alone than there is in the atmosphere and they left permafrost emmissions completely out of COP15 negotiations).
Anyway, a lot more happened today but i'm exhausted, starving and itching to see some lovely people so i'm gonna stop it there. Lemme know what you think! much, much more to come..
love.
Anyway, I'm here just kind of tagging along with some delegates from Nunavik. I've been to quite a few IPY events but this is my first one completely on my own, not as part of a group or organization so i thought i'd somehow make my time here productive and do daily debriefs of what i saw happen.
The conference is being held at the Chateau Laurier (i know, right!).. which i think is completely ridiculous. They're paying for 200 people to stay at this crazy posh hotel AND have workshops in the conference rooms that talk about 'how to include northerners in all aspects of research'. Well, I have a little hint.. Maybe, instead of spending $300/person for hotels plus whatever it costs to use the conference facilities, maybe -now, forgive me if this is too much to ask- but maayybe you could have had this conference in the north? Then the people could hear about it, talk about it.. it might even envoke a desire to become active participants in the process. But no, we're here in Ottawa (I've been to IPY meetings in Quebec City and Geneva).. just another conference in the south. I think that sometimes, certain types of people take themselves way too seriously. I will not apologize for saying that.
Anyway, enough criticism, I do actually love the idea of IPY and everything it has accomplished for northern research. This morning, Dave Carlson, the head of thr entire program, gave a really interesting talk about a few things that i think should be shared (it's dave's birthday today by the way!).. he had a 5 point presentation that was a) very, very relevant to Inuit and Northerners, b) almost completely jargon free.. which is completely awesome for someone who's totally non-scientific like me and c) short and sweet, what more could you ask for? *note that i only mention a few of his 5 points because some things, i need to do more research on before i can be comfortable to write about them
1. Recent Arctic Climate: a multi-millennial study on the arctic climate showed that, yes, climate does fluctuate and the arctic does have warm(er) periods.. BUT the baseline year he talked about, 1950, there was an incredible spike in arctic temperature.. it's like the line of the graph sat on a pin and shot into space. Point being? Arctic temperatures in the last 60 years are warmer then they have ever been.
2. Sea Ice extent: in 2007, they started predicting what the ice extent would be for the next fall. This was kind of iffy, but they did it anyway.. the point of this is that even tho in '07 they werent really sure of their estimates, they are getting significanly better at it, so look out for the next estimates for sea ice extent in the next year, they might be pretty accurate. He also showed a graph of sea ice in 2000 compared to 2009.. scary shit..
3. Sea Ice Thickness: He showed a graph with the years 2000-09 that showed how thick the ice was during March (the beginning of melting season), the graph included melt and recovery. Melting patterns were prety much stable throughout the 9 years, but it was the recovery that should cause concern. Each year, the Ice didnt recover quite as well as before untill, in '09 it reached almost half of what it was in 2000 (4 milion square Km in 2000 compared to 2.5 in 2009). He gave a really good example to explain it better. Think of it as breathing.. ice melts it exhales, ice recovers, it inhales. get it?
4. Ice Sheets and Sea Level-- i wasnt really sure how to synthesize this portian.. but check out 'the Copenhagen Diagnosis'
5. Permafrost and Carbon: We have more carbon in the first 3 meters of (canadian)permafrost that we do currently in the atmosphere. 'nuff said.. I could write a whole post about this topic, and i intend to.. but not right now. (just a fact that everyone should know: there is 2x the carbon in Eastern Siberian Sea alone than there is in the atmosphere and they left permafrost emmissions completely out of COP15 negotiations).
Anyway, a lot more happened today but i'm exhausted, starving and itching to see some lovely people so i'm gonna stop it there. Lemme know what you think! much, much more to come..
love.
Monday, February 1, 2010
N.D.G is Unsafe for Inuit. Relocate Nunavik House.
I've just discovered a blog by an anonymous citizen who calls him/herself Concerned Inuk.. the focus of this blog is on the dangerous location of Nunavik House, the transit house for Nunavik Inuit visiting Montreal for Medical reasons.
I wholeheartedly agree with C.I.'s views. It is completely, absolutely unacceptable for Inuit elders, expectant mothers, young children and simply vulnerable, ill or injured people to have to live in such a neighborhood while they are down south for medical reasons. Not only are they exposed to gang violence (yes, gang violence, real, legitimate, genuine gang violence), an abundance of drugs, seedy bars and no-tell-motels, but the staff are known to be racist and insensitive to Inuit and their values, beliefs, opinions and needs.
Inuit girls have been raped in the area, people have been robbed, introduced to drugs like crack, cocaine and who knows what else. Gangs have even created contacts in order to sell drugs in the north, where they could sell it (whatever it may be) for 5times the street value. I myself was visiting a pregnant friend one time and on my way home, not only was i offered cocaine, but I was also harassed by some crackhead on a bicycle, not the most fun experience for a 17 year old girl walking alone. . (i was 17 at the time, and it was my first year on my own in the city).
These gangs prey on defenseless Inuit who are generally ignorant to the realities of southern life. Most people do not have good english skills, let alone french or Vietnamese (one of the major gang nationalities) which make them perfect targets. A lot of people are often too afraid to go to the police after such incidents because, a) language barriers, b) intimidation from gangs and c) just general intimidation of the legal system.
The same pregnant friend i was telling you about earlier told me that during her time at Nunavik House, she couldnt walk down the street without someone offering to sell her 'Aputik' (the inuttitut interpretation of cocaine). She was 9 months pregnant. Who offers a gigantic pregnant woman cocaine? What kind of sick, deranged people are we exposing the most vulnerable segment of our population to? It's absolutely unacceptable.
If you agree with me, I ask that you sign this petition N.D.G is Unsafe For Inuit. Relocate Nunavik House.
I wholeheartedly agree with C.I.'s views. It is completely, absolutely unacceptable for Inuit elders, expectant mothers, young children and simply vulnerable, ill or injured people to have to live in such a neighborhood while they are down south for medical reasons. Not only are they exposed to gang violence (yes, gang violence, real, legitimate, genuine gang violence), an abundance of drugs, seedy bars and no-tell-motels, but the staff are known to be racist and insensitive to Inuit and their values, beliefs, opinions and needs.
Inuit girls have been raped in the area, people have been robbed, introduced to drugs like crack, cocaine and who knows what else. Gangs have even created contacts in order to sell drugs in the north, where they could sell it (whatever it may be) for 5times the street value. I myself was visiting a pregnant friend one time and on my way home, not only was i offered cocaine, but I was also harassed by some crackhead on a bicycle, not the most fun experience for a 17 year old girl walking alone. . (i was 17 at the time, and it was my first year on my own in the city).
These gangs prey on defenseless Inuit who are generally ignorant to the realities of southern life. Most people do not have good english skills, let alone french or Vietnamese (one of the major gang nationalities) which make them perfect targets. A lot of people are often too afraid to go to the police after such incidents because, a) language barriers, b) intimidation from gangs and c) just general intimidation of the legal system.
The same pregnant friend i was telling you about earlier told me that during her time at Nunavik House, she couldnt walk down the street without someone offering to sell her 'Aputik' (the inuttitut interpretation of cocaine). She was 9 months pregnant. Who offers a gigantic pregnant woman cocaine? What kind of sick, deranged people are we exposing the most vulnerable segment of our population to? It's absolutely unacceptable.
If you agree with me, I ask that you sign this petition N.D.G is Unsafe For Inuit. Relocate Nunavik House.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
2010.. year of the Inuit?
ITK announced last November that 2010 will be the 'Year of the Inuit'. President Mary Simon announced that this initiative is meant to bring more attention, not only to Inuit issues but Inuit culture as well.. The idea of this is great. I love it.. i do. but to make it one year where we're the center of attention is a little bit.. i dunno. I just can't really see how that will improve the lives of Inuit. I think it's meant, on some level, to create a sense of pride in Inuit people, but do Inuit really know it's the year of the Inuit? What will this initiative achieve at a community level?..
Since I moved back up north, a lot of things are starting to become clearer to me. Like, all these things you hear about in the south.. all the programs being developed (in the south), all these great initiatives aimed at improving the lives of Inuit (all being developed in the south).. As much emphasis they put on inuit involvement in the creation of programs.. none of this is tangible in the communities.
Sure, it's a great idea to want to show Canada and the world how awesome we are! we have an amazing, rich, beautiful culture, we do!.. but before we start selling ourselves to the world, we should probably improve ourselves first. The fact is, as much positive things we have going on here, the negative still exists. Yes, I know I was talking about how 'the single story bla bla bla' not long ago, about how the Media and the world can only see the bad.. but let's not forget that, in the spirit of telling the full story, things still need improvement. We still need language initiatives implemented, we still need healing from past traumas, we still need housing and we need affordable food. We need these things and we need to stop expecting them on a silver platter.
Let's make our own year of the Inuit.. let's start a movement. The year of the Inuit, for the Inuit, by the Inuit. Let's pick up a hammer and build houses. Let's pick up a rifle, go hunting and feed the community, let's open greenhouses in each community. Let's start talking about our problems. Let's start using Inuttitut in the workplace. Let's hire local people. Let's do it! Atii! go!
That is what the year of the Inuit should be about. Building an effective Inuit society. Not flaunting our awesomeness to the world.. most of it will probably fall on deaf ears anyway..
Since I moved back up north, a lot of things are starting to become clearer to me. Like, all these things you hear about in the south.. all the programs being developed (in the south), all these great initiatives aimed at improving the lives of Inuit (all being developed in the south).. As much emphasis they put on inuit involvement in the creation of programs.. none of this is tangible in the communities.
Sure, it's a great idea to want to show Canada and the world how awesome we are! we have an amazing, rich, beautiful culture, we do!.. but before we start selling ourselves to the world, we should probably improve ourselves first. The fact is, as much positive things we have going on here, the negative still exists. Yes, I know I was talking about how 'the single story bla bla bla' not long ago, about how the Media and the world can only see the bad.. but let's not forget that, in the spirit of telling the full story, things still need improvement. We still need language initiatives implemented, we still need healing from past traumas, we still need housing and we need affordable food. We need these things and we need to stop expecting them on a silver platter.
Let's make our own year of the Inuit.. let's start a movement. The year of the Inuit, for the Inuit, by the Inuit. Let's pick up a hammer and build houses. Let's pick up a rifle, go hunting and feed the community, let's open greenhouses in each community. Let's start talking about our problems. Let's start using Inuttitut in the workplace. Let's hire local people. Let's do it! Atii! go!
That is what the year of the Inuit should be about. Building an effective Inuit society. Not flaunting our awesomeness to the world.. most of it will probably fall on deaf ears anyway..
the single story..
I wrote this blog on facebook not too long ago.. It was inspired by a video i saw on TED by an african writer, and a similar post by my dear friend Karen
the video is here: http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story.html
You read about me in the news papers, I'm on tv, even on the radio and the internet.. I'm pretty much everywhere.
But when you read about me, you read about how my chances of committing suicide are six times higher than yours; about how young i was when i started smoking. I probably wont graduate, let alone do post-secondary. That's what they tell you on the news right? that i wont graduate.
The statistics say that i will probably have kids before I'm 20, maybe my 50 year old grandmother will adopt them.
Oh, let's not forget what PETA says about me! Boy! do they ever hate me! I dont truely understand why tho, I mean.. I'm just trying to feed my family. My grandfather taught me to hunt seals. I remember how proud he was when i caught my first one. It was early June when we were out in my father's canoe. We spotted this huge ujjuk in the water! He handed me the harpoon, he said "rifles are too easy, try this". Next thing I know he and my father are pulling it to the boat. I wasnt strong enough yet to do it myself. We pulled it onto an ice floe to butcher it, I was so proud to be eating the liver of a seal that i caught myself. It was the most delicious thing i've ever tasted. I gave the skin to my sanajik and she made me the most beautiful mitten's ive ever seen. They were so warm. I miss those mitts. I always wondered why people in the south would look at me like i was a bad person after seeing them. They sure were beautiful, no doubt about that. Now i do understand why they gave me dirty looks. the really think that do it for pleasure? Because I want to make money off the fur? Really? I still cant understand why they're so ignorant, and so gloriously proud of their ignorance too! They should all taste seal meat, none of their food can hold a candle to the amount of energy i have when i eat seal. Not to mention how warm it keeps you in the intense cold of winter. Anyway, seal is sometimes all we have, considering how expensive food from the store is, and i dont like to feed my family those instant meals or whatever they're called! the ones you can just pop in the oven or microwave. It cant possibly be good for my health! I challenge PETA to live here with me, move your headquarters north, THEN see if YOU can afford to eat anything but seal and caribou. Unless you like those microwave things..
Anyway, enough about what PETA has to say about me. They're just silly..
I actually really look forward to my future.. I mean, I know you think that i wont graduate, or go to University.. but you've never met all of my lovely colleagues who have graduated and gone to University. I know people who have become politicians, photographers, doctors, nurses, even psychologists.. These people, the youth, they give me hope. They give me hope that one day, that story you read about how much it sucks to be me, will change. You'll be reading about how I am advancing in medicine, in commerce, in arts, in life! But wait.. I am advancing in all of these things, today.. even yesterday. But the pages and airwaves are filled with those stories of my failures and my misfortunes..
It's hard enough trying to find my place in the world, considering my past.. I have suffered a lot. I remember when life was simple, when i lived my life according to the seasons. That's back before the land and the weather started changing so much. I was once able to predict what conditions we would be facing day to day. Now Even the southern meteorologists hardly know. It's gotten to the point where I'm not really sure what to do anymore. Do i teach future generations what i know? Will it even be of use to them?
But.. not only has the weather changed! My whole life has completely changed.. I remember when i lived in Igloos, and tents.. now I live in a big wooden house, the nice thing is that that it stays warm, and the water runs right from the tap. But still.. I wish i had been given a choice, I think at that time i would have chosen to stay in my igloo, on the land. I was able to support myself and my family sustainably then. When i still had dogs.. my poor dogs! I was so confused when they were shot. The RCMP officer just came around and shot them -all of them. I couldnt go hunting after that. I remember being hungry. It was like that time they stopped buying furs from me. First they come and tell me that they'll give me all these things in exchange for furs, so i changed my lifestyle a bit to accommodate them and their desires.. Then they tell me that It's worthless. How do they expect me to buy bullets? They said rifles are better than harpoons, so i switched. Now i realize the beauty of a harpoon was that it was self sustaining. I didnt need bullets. I didnt need to barter in order to get sustenance. Now I do. Life in the modern world. Maybe I wasnt meant for this.. Maybe they're right when they talk about me being a failure, a ward of the state. No! I was just fine before they came along! I didnt need their tools and their schools!
You would be horrified if you only knew what they did to me at their schools. I dont even want to go into detail.. They did apologize a few years back tho.. I do appreciate the compensation they gave me.. but does a check really compensate for a lost generation? for all of my hardships, all my suffering at the hands of foreigners.. They told me what to do and i did it.. I was too scared not to. They told me not to speak my language.. They made me feel shame in myself, my way of life.. It's something you cant really understand unless you've been through it. To be told that you're inferior, that you need to change, especially if you expect to go to heaven. God dosent approve of my world view, I started thinking maybe they're right about me. Maybe I'm not good enough, maybe I'm not worthy.
I try to stop myself when i start thinking like that. But it's hard.. especially since people always ask me why i kill baby seals, why do i wear their fur? Why don't I just get a job? They say I dont need to live the way I do. But they dont know how i live. I'm just fine. I keep my family fed, they have warm clothes. But people -other people- they dont know anything about me. They just see these things they're told as facts, that because the statistics say so, my life must be horrible. I dont think they realize that someone lives behind those statistics.. And they wonder why I'm six times more likely to commit suicide than they are!
Have they ever considered what life must be like to live in the shadow of such a story? They dont see me. I'm totally invisible. They see the news, they think they see me. They read the papers as if they're reading about me. And then, here's the best part! They think they know me! they think they know why i am the way i am. They think they can save me from my miserable life. They come with their scientists and their researchers, they analyze my life, my habits and then they go try to find solutions with our data. We dont usually hear back from them. I did hear something not long ago about the researcher that was here last. She ended up getting some huge prize for her study, they had a conference about it in Paris. Paris is so far away.. I wonder what interest they have in me there?
Anyway..
That's my story.. thanks for reading it..
**Always be critical of what you read and hear, especially in the media. "who wrote the article? who are they to be saying these things?".. Remember that there's always, always more than one side to every story. Look at all sides before passing judgment.
the video is here: http://www.ted.com/talks/l
You read about me in the news papers, I'm on tv, even on the radio and the internet.. I'm pretty much everywhere.
But when you read about me, you read about how my chances of committing suicide are six times higher than yours; about how young i was when i started smoking. I probably wont graduate, let alone do post-secondary. That's what they tell you on the news right? that i wont graduate.
The statistics say that i will probably have kids before I'm 20, maybe my 50 year old grandmother will adopt them.
Oh, let's not forget what PETA says about me! Boy! do they ever hate me! I dont truely understand why tho, I mean.. I'm just trying to feed my family. My grandfather taught me to hunt seals. I remember how proud he was when i caught my first one. It was early June when we were out in my father's canoe. We spotted this huge ujjuk in the water! He handed me the harpoon, he said "rifles are too easy, try this". Next thing I know he and my father are pulling it to the boat. I wasnt strong enough yet to do it myself. We pulled it onto an ice floe to butcher it, I was so proud to be eating the liver of a seal that i caught myself. It was the most delicious thing i've ever tasted. I gave the skin to my sanajik and she made me the most beautiful mitten's ive ever seen. They were so warm. I miss those mitts. I always wondered why people in the south would look at me like i was a bad person after seeing them. They sure were beautiful, no doubt about that. Now i do understand why they gave me dirty looks. the really think that do it for pleasure? Because I want to make money off the fur? Really? I still cant understand why they're so ignorant, and so gloriously proud of their ignorance too! They should all taste seal meat, none of their food can hold a candle to the amount of energy i have when i eat seal. Not to mention how warm it keeps you in the intense cold of winter. Anyway, seal is sometimes all we have, considering how expensive food from the store is, and i dont like to feed my family those instant meals or whatever they're called! the ones you can just pop in the oven or microwave. It cant possibly be good for my health! I challenge PETA to live here with me, move your headquarters north, THEN see if YOU can afford to eat anything but seal and caribou. Unless you like those microwave things..
Anyway, enough about what PETA has to say about me. They're just silly..
I actually really look forward to my future.. I mean, I know you think that i wont graduate, or go to University.. but you've never met all of my lovely colleagues who have graduated and gone to University. I know people who have become politicians, photographers, doctors, nurses, even psychologists.. These people, the youth, they give me hope. They give me hope that one day, that story you read about how much it sucks to be me, will change. You'll be reading about how I am advancing in medicine, in commerce, in arts, in life! But wait.. I am advancing in all of these things, today.. even yesterday. But the pages and airwaves are filled with those stories of my failures and my misfortunes..
It's hard enough trying to find my place in the world, considering my past.. I have suffered a lot. I remember when life was simple, when i lived my life according to the seasons. That's back before the land and the weather started changing so much. I was once able to predict what conditions we would be facing day to day. Now Even the southern meteorologists hardly know. It's gotten to the point where I'm not really sure what to do anymore. Do i teach future generations what i know? Will it even be of use to them?
But.. not only has the weather changed! My whole life has completely changed.. I remember when i lived in Igloos, and tents.. now I live in a big wooden house, the nice thing is that that it stays warm, and the water runs right from the tap. But still.. I wish i had been given a choice, I think at that time i would have chosen to stay in my igloo, on the land. I was able to support myself and my family sustainably then. When i still had dogs.. my poor dogs! I was so confused when they were shot. The RCMP officer just came around and shot them -all of them. I couldnt go hunting after that. I remember being hungry. It was like that time they stopped buying furs from me. First they come and tell me that they'll give me all these things in exchange for furs, so i changed my lifestyle a bit to accommodate them and their desires.. Then they tell me that It's worthless. How do they expect me to buy bullets? They said rifles are better than harpoons, so i switched. Now i realize the beauty of a harpoon was that it was self sustaining. I didnt need bullets. I didnt need to barter in order to get sustenance. Now I do. Life in the modern world. Maybe I wasnt meant for this.. Maybe they're right when they talk about me being a failure, a ward of the state. No! I was just fine before they came along! I didnt need their tools and their schools!
You would be horrified if you only knew what they did to me at their schools. I dont even want to go into detail.. They did apologize a few years back tho.. I do appreciate the compensation they gave me.. but does a check really compensate for a lost generation? for all of my hardships, all my suffering at the hands of foreigners.. They told me what to do and i did it.. I was too scared not to. They told me not to speak my language.. They made me feel shame in myself, my way of life.. It's something you cant really understand unless you've been through it. To be told that you're inferior, that you need to change, especially if you expect to go to heaven. God dosent approve of my world view, I started thinking maybe they're right about me. Maybe I'm not good enough, maybe I'm not worthy.
I try to stop myself when i start thinking like that. But it's hard.. especially since people always ask me why i kill baby seals, why do i wear their fur? Why don't I just get a job? They say I dont need to live the way I do. But they dont know how i live. I'm just fine. I keep my family fed, they have warm clothes. But people -other people- they dont know anything about me. They just see these things they're told as facts, that because the statistics say so, my life must be horrible. I dont think they realize that someone lives behind those statistics.. And they wonder why I'm six times more likely to commit suicide than they are!
Have they ever considered what life must be like to live in the shadow of such a story? They dont see me. I'm totally invisible. They see the news, they think they see me. They read the papers as if they're reading about me. And then, here's the best part! They think they know me! they think they know why i am the way i am. They think they can save me from my miserable life. They come with their scientists and their researchers, they analyze my life, my habits and then they go try to find solutions with our data. We dont usually hear back from them. I did hear something not long ago about the researcher that was here last. She ended up getting some huge prize for her study, they had a conference about it in Paris. Paris is so far away.. I wonder what interest they have in me there?
Anyway..
That's my story.. thanks for reading it..
**Always be critical of what you read and hear, especially in the media. "who wrote the article? who are they to be saying these things?".. Remember that there's always, always more than one side to every story. Look at all sides before passing judgment.
a language in peril..
My mother just asked me if i know the word for "Hammer" in Inuttitut. She does that sometimes. She teaches teachers how to be teachers who teach Inuttitut language. So, she's kind of an expert. She's always quizzing me and correcting me. "it's 'ga', not 'ra'".. But whenever she quizzes me, she always asks what the simplest things are, like Hammer is a good example. She asked me what it was and you know what i said? I said Axe. I. said. axe.
Now, I like to think of myself as a fluent Inuttitut speaker, but this.. this one little mistake just completely humbled me and affected me more than i thought it could.
After 3 years of living in the south, I guess I could say I do have an excuse to forget words like 'Hammer', but really.. there is no excuse. I should have known, I should have remembered. I should have been speaking Inuttitut regardless of my southern surroundings. Most of my friends in school were Inuit anyway. What is it about being down south that makes Inuit speak in English, even to each other?
I should probably give you a little bit of background on the Inuttitut Language. I think, (if i am not mistaken) Inuttitut is the strongest indigenous language in the world. In my region, Nunaivk, 95% of people still speak it. Most people prefer to speak it in their daily lives. People are always talking about how proud they are of their language. But then there's the flip side, cause there's always a flip side, right? The same people who speak Inuttitut day to day, the ones who boast about the strength of their mother tongue, go to work and speak English. Right now, I am working for the municipal government while i take a break from school. Every memo, fax, email..everything i get is in English even though the person sending it is an Inuk. The mayor of my community dosent speak english. Everything he receives has to go through me for translation (and I'm not proud to say that my translation skills are not the best).
People worked hard to ensure Inuttitut has a place in business, schools and government. They sacrificed their lives, their families, everything. In every Inuit region of Canada, people fought for the right to keep their language and culture, to save it from being swallowed up by the continued colonization of their people. And now, we are the ones sabotaging it. We are ruining ourselves from the inside out.
There's no doubt that part of this problem stems from residential schooling, people were punished for speaking their language. They were physically coerced into believing that the language of their ancestors was the devil's tongue. But those people, the residential school generation still speak Inuttitut. They still know the old language... Because there is a distinction between the 'old' language and contemporary inuttitut that youth (including myself) speak today. We have simplified it, we've made it easier for us because we live in an english dominated world. Every form of media that is accessible to us is in English. Every movie, every book, every magazine and tv show. It's all in English.
We, the youth need to step up. We have to own our ignorance before we can begin to learn. We need to remember that this language, this ancient, complex, beautiful language survived hundreds of years of gradual colonization and 60 years of intense cultural genocide. One of the very few in the world that has done so and we are the ones to bring about its demise.
In the year of the Inuit, let's stop feeling sorry for ourselves, let's stop asking for help from others. We have the capacity to solve our problems and maintain our identity while simultaneously creating a place for Inuit Culture in the modern wold. We are that generation. We have no choice.
Inuttituuqattalaurta.
p.s. Hammer is ujaratsiaq and axe is ulimautik...
Now, I like to think of myself as a fluent Inuttitut speaker, but this.. this one little mistake just completely humbled me and affected me more than i thought it could.
After 3 years of living in the south, I guess I could say I do have an excuse to forget words like 'Hammer', but really.. there is no excuse. I should have known, I should have remembered. I should have been speaking Inuttitut regardless of my southern surroundings. Most of my friends in school were Inuit anyway. What is it about being down south that makes Inuit speak in English, even to each other?
I should probably give you a little bit of background on the Inuttitut Language. I think, (if i am not mistaken) Inuttitut is the strongest indigenous language in the world. In my region, Nunaivk, 95% of people still speak it. Most people prefer to speak it in their daily lives. People are always talking about how proud they are of their language. But then there's the flip side, cause there's always a flip side, right? The same people who speak Inuttitut day to day, the ones who boast about the strength of their mother tongue, go to work and speak English. Right now, I am working for the municipal government while i take a break from school. Every memo, fax, email..everything i get is in English even though the person sending it is an Inuk. The mayor of my community dosent speak english. Everything he receives has to go through me for translation (and I'm not proud to say that my translation skills are not the best).
People worked hard to ensure Inuttitut has a place in business, schools and government. They sacrificed their lives, their families, everything. In every Inuit region of Canada, people fought for the right to keep their language and culture, to save it from being swallowed up by the continued colonization of their people. And now, we are the ones sabotaging it. We are ruining ourselves from the inside out.
There's no doubt that part of this problem stems from residential schooling, people were punished for speaking their language. They were physically coerced into believing that the language of their ancestors was the devil's tongue. But those people, the residential school generation still speak Inuttitut. They still know the old language... Because there is a distinction between the 'old' language and contemporary inuttitut that youth (including myself) speak today. We have simplified it, we've made it easier for us because we live in an english dominated world. Every form of media that is accessible to us is in English. Every movie, every book, every magazine and tv show. It's all in English.
We, the youth need to step up. We have to own our ignorance before we can begin to learn. We need to remember that this language, this ancient, complex, beautiful language survived hundreds of years of gradual colonization and 60 years of intense cultural genocide. One of the very few in the world that has done so and we are the ones to bring about its demise.
In the year of the Inuit, let's stop feeling sorry for ourselves, let's stop asking for help from others. We have the capacity to solve our problems and maintain our identity while simultaneously creating a place for Inuit Culture in the modern wold. We are that generation. We have no choice.
Inuttituuqattalaurta.
p.s. Hammer is ujaratsiaq and axe is ulimautik...
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