It is a minus -40 day. I’m driving to the Elder and am amazed that my old Ford Focus managed to start. I have asked for some time with her. I need answers to questions that have stayed with me for far too long. A snow squall swirls up. IContinue Reading
I’ve heard it too often, a young Indigenous person who tells me that they don’t qualify as being Indigenous. After all, look at their skin and eye colour. They only know a smattering of Indigenous words. They don’t know anything about tradition or ceremony. They can’t apply for a NunavutContinue Reading
We are together, the Elder and I. I am the one driving us to our venue. A place where she will speak, and I will be sure she is comfortable. It’s a cold winter night, and the darkened streets have yet to be plowed. We are forging our way throughContinue Reading
He is out there somewhere in the audience that has gathered at a public venue, a venue that is tucked inside a shopping mall where people stop to listen to each poet. I know to expect him to show up. He always finds me. I often try to figure outContinue Reading
