1. Have a goal. Even if you are just “going with the flow”, you cannot go anywhere if you don’t have a goal.
2. Remember to breathe. You can’t do anything if you are not breathing…unless of course you are swimming underwater. THEN, I suggest you remember to hold your breathe!
3. Realize you can’t control everything. You just can’t, and if you try to then you already failed.
4. Be aware. Be aware about what goes around you and within in you. Find out what inspires you, and find out what annoys you. Then stop doing what annoys you, and start doing more of what inspires you.
5. Stop caring. That is, stop caring about what others think of you. If you must care about what others think about you, make sure that those same people care about what YOU think.
6. Write things down. Don’t make a to-do list. Instead, keep a reflective journal. Write down what you did, how you handled it, and how it made you feel. Then let it go.
7. Start off small. That goal you have at #1, break it down into smaller goals.

I wrote this blog because lately people have been asking me “What do you want to do after all THIS?” What?! What’s THIS?! Why does everyone need to know about or need to have plans?! The only time that anything has ever worked out for me was when I just went with the flow. I didn’t expect anything, and I was honest about what I wanted. Sometimes people are set back when they talk to me and I can’t answer their questions. It’s not that I can’t or don’t know what I want. It is the exact opposite. I know EXACTLY what it is I want. I just know that if I set out a rigid, strict plan, then I’ve already set myself up to fail. Remember, this is what works for me. It may not work for you. Your flow might be different than my flow 😉

I don’t know how quick this post is going to be but this has been bothering me for some time. It has especially been bothering me since the Attawapiskat issue was brought out into the mainstream media. All of a sudden, all these people, non-Indigenous and Indigenous people all cared and knew about Indigenous issues…or talked like they knew what it was all about.

I had a conversation *ahem* a correspondence of Facebook messages with a SNAG. No, not THAT kind of SNAG. He actually used it to describe himself (even though I never told him what I know a SNAG as), Sensitive New Age Guy. He didn’t understand how some groups could be considered inferior. I politely told him, “Well, that’s because he is a white guy.” To put it plainly.

He went on to say that he couldn’t lie that he doesn’t see color because he knows enough dumb white guys. “Tell me about,” is all I wanted to say. I didn’t. He simply stated that he “didn’t care.” I just wanted to emphasize THAT’S THE PROBLEM! People who live entire lives without being exposed to or subjected to subtle or blatant racism, and discriminatory or oppressive policies, will never have to care a single day in their life.

He also stated that he didn’t understand how he could be held accountable for his ancestors’ actions. Specifically he wrote,

I understand that people want me to be accountable for my ancestors’ behaviours, but I don’t think I can. After all, I don’t believe in what they did or how they acted. I act in a different way now, so where does the line between yesterday’s repsonsibilities and today’s actions get drawn? Which matters more?

I gave him a simple solution that was probably biased but not meant to harm: educate your children about TRUE Canadian history. Simple enough right? Well, young people nowadays are just used of being spoon-fed the information they are given in school and expected to spit it back out. THAT’S THE PROBLEM.

Okay, maybe I am not being very constructive here but really, I mean no harm.

So, why should non-Indigenous people care about Indigenous issues? Someone else on my Facebook, when I posted that I was going to write a post on THIS exact topic, simply said, “It would be only for economic reasons.” Maybe, but no.

Throughout my entire years of being in school, I have not learned about residential schools or what really happened when Europeans settled (see rape, forced sterilization, etc). I also didn’t learn about how racist the Indian Act was. The very same act that was enacted by our own government. Not my government or your government… OUR GOVERNMENT.

So how did I learn about the Indian Act and residential school legacy? My family taught me and I also read books on what really happened. The education system that all Canadians submit their children supposedly freely and without coercion doesn’t teach this. What educational institutes teach YOUR CHILDREN (non-indigenous and indigenous) is that the Europeans “saved” the Indians and that there was no such thing as rape or force removal of children from Indigenous homes or there was no such thing as force sterilization of Indigenous women. These are just to name a few of what really went on in true Canadian history. However this post isn’t meant to educate you on all Indigenous issues, past and present.

The current education system teaches students that Indigenous peoples were primitive, uncivilized, and unorganized. This is what I learned in high school, and this is not true. The current education system doesn’t teach those students to question the information that is given to them. In my own experiences, we, Indigenous people, are just stupid. In fact, one teacher even told the class that the residential schools were created to “educate” the native children. Correction: they were created to assimilate native children into white society. Every child, teen and young adult are all submitted to this same education. Year after year. The idea that Indigenous peoples are stupid and the “Other” shuns them. It creates the illusion that these stories are fact, and if they are fact, then they are not meant to be questioned. Judy Iseke-Barnes highlights, “Indigenous children can be hurt by misrepresentations. Non-Indigenous children are also hurt because they are misinformed and learn demeaning and disrespectful practices from texts.” (2005: 162). The schools that your children attend tell them that Indigenous people are stupid and that the reason they are the way they are today is their own fault. That is not true.

We all live in this country together. It’s like living in the same house, under one roof, and letting the red-headed step child to continued to be raped, abused, and forced to dress a certain way, look a certain way… but only in a way that further stigmatizes and re-victimizes that same red-headed step child. Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to meet Lee Maracle. She had the analogy of a dog in a cage that is continuously beaten, only fed alcohol and bones. When we ask what is wrong with the dog, nobody questions why we don’t give the dog real food and real care to help make it healthy again. However, in my analogy I switch the dog for a child.

We all live in this well-built, warm house together, except for this one child who lives in the basement. Sometimes we give the child clean water to drink, clean clothes to wear, and a warm blanket to sleep with. Heck, sometimes we even let the child sleep in our own bed, but not all the time. The child drinks water out of the subpump. The child sleeps with a blanket covered in mold. Sometimes the child gets a full meal, sometimes she/he doesn’t. When it gets really bad, however, you let the child sleep upstairs where it is warm and can eat at the table with you. The other children in the house are made to believe that the child is downstairs because that child is too bad and too stupid to be upstairs with everyone else. The other children don’t question it. They accept it as is.

Your children accept what they are taught as is.

What if a person didn’t have children? Where will they learn to care about Indigenous issues? The media? Most certainly not because the media works in the same way as the education system does. That is, it tells non-Indigenous people that Indigenous people are the way they are because of their own fault. There simply isn’t anything they can do about it.

We must begin, as a nation and not just individual persons, to include Indigenous knowledge and way of knowing in the classroom. Bringing in other type of knowledges and ways of knowing teaches children to question the otherwise white-dominant-western ideology. It teaches your child to be critical. Isn’t that what education and going to school is all about? You think so but no. Your children have been learning to stereotype, generalize and racialize Indigenous peoples: it’s all their fault and there is nothing that we can do about it.

But there is… we can change the way our children learn. Not for the sake of non-Indigenous peoples and Indigenous peoples but for our entire society as persons and human beings.

So why should non-Indigenous people care about Indigenous issues? Well, if you want to continue to unknowingly, coercively, and un-freely submit your children, teenagers, and young adults to learn these generalized and racialized way of applying the knowledge they receive, then continue not to care. However, if you want all children, teenagers, and young adults to be free, critical thinkers, then lets all work together to change that as a nation and not just as an us-versus-them situation.

This weekend I am in Toronto for a workshop on reducing stigma and building capacity. It is a pretty interesting workshop and I love that I am able to attend. The one thing that I realized today, even with my lived experiences, is that I can’t and won’t know everything.

Last year I spent a lot of time conversing with individuals about Aboriginal issues or how to enhance the Indigenous student experience on campus. At times I would think, “Why is this person talking to me?” or “Why would this person think that I could possibly give them an answer?” It wasn’t that I didn’t know anything about being an Indigenous student or an Indigenous person facing Indigenous issues. I just felt that I knew people who were more competent at answering the questions they had. Sometimes I didn’t even have answer. I would just straight up tell them “I don’t know” and usually people become frustrated with that answer. However, it is completely okay to say I don’t know and even in fact more acceptable than trying to act like you know.

This workshop is helping me to realize that I have the abilities to talk with confidence about what I do know, and acknowledge those experiences in which I have no experience in but tactfully address questions so those asking can have a sense of satisfaction/acknowledgement. It is a great learning experience and I am so ever thankful for being here especially with all the wonderful people I have met thus far.

This past weekend I had an interesting experience. Unrelated to politics but it was at a political event. The thing that happened was more of a realization and a sense of greater understanding of who I am and not to be afraid of being that person.

The experience goes a little bit like this: There was a panel discussion. Two individuals began the panel with their speeches and perspectives. After the 2 presentations, people were allowed to comment. I sat there debating with myself on two issues 1) Should I leave now to go the bathroom or wait until after? and 2) Should I ask the question I really want to ask?

It was kind of a hard decision to make because well I really wanted to go to the bathroom and I really wanted to ask the question. My question was, how do Aboriginal women fit into the whole concept of social cohesion? The 2 presentations talked about this concept of social cohesion. Social cohesion, according to the presentations, was related to environment, health, education, demographics, and solidarity. I kept hearing, youth, elders, and older women. I mean, those are all important. Really, they are. But what about young women, especially young, single women with children? Or what about single men?

Anyways, I asked a question relating to Aboriginal women relating to my lived experiences only because I know a lot of other females who have those same experiences. I was nervous not because I am scared to talk in public or ask questions. I was nervous because this was the first time I shared those experiences in a public domain. Some people think that when others share their experiences that they are calling out for attention. When I share my experiences, it has nothing to do with a cry for attention. I just want others to not be afraid of their own experiences because honestly, some experiences can be really scary and even more scary if you have to live with them on your own.

After I was done asking my question and sharing my experiences, I was more relieved. When I sat down, the woman sitting next to me shared with me she had experienced something similar and I could see the tears in her eyes. Then another woman walked up to me and said that she wanted to talk to me, she was doing work that helped women. Not too long after, another woman walked up to me and asked me what it was I was doing now and thanked me for sharing my story and asking the question. The best part of the experience was having Dr. Carolyn Bennett highlighting to the audience that we must remember that women may experience discrimination, but Aboriginal women may receive double, if not triple discrimination (being Aboriginal, being a woman, and maybe having a disability).

The greatest lesson I learned was that people shouldn’t be afraid to share their lived experiences, whether it is good or bad. Someone might learn from it or at least gain a different perspective based on the lived realities. But remember, people who judge people based on their lived experiences are those that are most uncomfortable with their own–don’t worry about them.

First things first, I want to thank all of those who have either shared the link or RT (re-tweet) the link on their twitter for my previous which I wrote the other day.

Secondly, I want to give a big thank you to those who have donated already.

Here is a bit of a recap:

The other day I wrote a post asking for help to attend a convention to help me complete the journey in this newly acclaimed roles as the VP-Women’s rep for the Aboriginal Peoples Commission and the Women’s Liberal Commission and to also meet, plan and discussion with the other executive members from the Aboriginal Peoples Commission and other Liberal Commissions. You can read that post HERE.

Again, here is an excerpt from yesterday’s post including the donation button:

On January 13-15, 2012, I am required to attend the Liberal Convention as a delegate and as the candidate for this position. The costs to attend this convention are somewhat high (well at least beyond my student budget). Such costs that are to be incurred by attending this convention are listed below:

• $130 Greyhound bus ticket (2-way London to Ottawa)
• $140/night for 4 nights (hotel to be shared with 3 other delegates in Ottawa)
• $50/day for 4 days (food//incidentals) = $200
• TOTAL: $470 (taxes not included)

I am asking for donations to help out with making this trip. This is by no means a support or a donation to the Liberal Party of Canada. This is an opportunity to help Indigenous women in Canada. I am a candidate that comes from a diverse background, filled with many lived experiences. I hope to create awareness at the federal level so that Indigenous women are no longer ignored in Canada.

Further, I know that many of you are celebrating the holidays and have just spent monies on Holiday/Christmas Cheer and asking for a donation may seem daunting right now. To help breakdown the above total, if just 4 organizations with 10 people donated $10.00, that could cover $400.00 with just $70.00 remaining. You are free to donate what you are able to donate (even if it is just $1.00).

To help make this donation process easier, I set up a paypal account. This is an easy and secure way to donate money. You can click the link below and send money that way (if you have a credit card/pay pal account/bank allows you to send money online–there are costs incurred on your behalf if you use a major credit card).

DONATIONS NOW CLOSED
THANK YOU/CHI-MIIGWETCH

Some of the items I would like to focus on during my term (2012-2014) are the increased rates of violence experienced by Aboriginal women. Aboriginal women experience violence higher than any other group within Canada. They are also more likely to die because of violent acts committed against them. Unfortunately, Aboriginal women also experience high rates of incarceration. These issues are of great importance for all of Canada, not just Indigenous people.

Please remember that monies received by you are not an endorsement or support for the Liberal Party of Canada.

Once again, Happy Holidays/ Happy New Year!

Thank you/Chi-Miigwetch
Naomi Sayers

Also, unless otherwise stated, your name/organization will be featured on my website http://www.kwetoday.com and given public recognition for your efforts (whether they shared the post or donated…every little bit counts). Note: no dollar amounts will be posted.

Hi Everyone,

First things first, Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas/Happy New Years! I am writing this letter after completing the first half of my second semester. I am also writing this letter to announce that I have been acclaimed as the Vice-President (Women’s Representative) for the Aboriginal Peoples’ Commission for the Liberal Party of Canada at the Federal level. With this position, I am required to sit on two commissions, the Aboriginal Peoples’ Commission and the Liberal Women’s Commission. While sitting on both commissions, I act as a voice for Indigenous women in Canada. I will help draft any resolutions that are of concern to the state of Indigenous women in Canada.

Some of the items I would like to focus on during my term (2012-2014) are the increased rates of violence experienced by Aboriginal women. Aboriginal women experience violence higher than any other group within Canada. They are also more likely to die because of violent acts committed against them. Unfortunately, Aboriginal women also experience high rates of incarceration. During my studies at the university, I focus on issues that Aboriginal women face (just recently, I had an essay on Aboriginal women’s leadership published by Native Youth Sexual Health Network and Girls Action Foundation). I also had the opportunity to work with a research team that focused on pregnant Aboriginal women and gestational diabetes (diabetes during pregnancy). These issues are of great importance for all of Canada, not just Indigenous people. However, I need some help in making the initial part of this journey complete.

On January 13-15, 2012, I am required to attend the Liberal Convention as a delegate and as the candidate for this position. The costs to attend this convention are somewhat high (well at least beyond my student budget). Such costs that are to be incurred by attending this convention are listed below:

• $130 Greyhound bus ticket (2-way London to Ottawa)
• $140/night for 4 nights (hotel to be shared with 3 other delegates in Ottawa)
• $50/day for 4 days (food//incidentals) = $200
• TOTAL: $470 (taxes not included)

I am asking for donations to help out with making this trip. This is by no means a support or a donation to the Liberal Party of Canada. This is an opportunity to help Indigenous women in Canada. I am a candidate that comes from a diverse background, filled with many lived experiences. I hope to create awareness at the federal level so that Indigenous women are no longer ignored in Canada.

Further, I know that many of you are celebrating the holidays and have just spent monies on Holiday/Christmas Cheer and asking for a donation may seem daunting right now. To help breakdown the above total, if just 4 organizations with 10 people donated $10.00, that could cover $400.00 with just $70.00 remaining. You are free to donate what you are able to donate (even if it is just $1.00).

To help make this donation process easier, I set up a paypal account. This is an easy and secure way to donate money. You can click the link below and send money that way (if you have a credit card/pay pal account/bank allows you to send money online–there are costs incurred on your behalf if you use a major credit card).

DONATIONS NOW CLOSED
THANK YOU/CHI-MIIGWETCH

If you have any questions or concerns regarding this trip or about this role, please do not hesitate to contact me by email nls@kwetoday.com. For those that wish to speak over the phone, please email me your phone number and I can contact you (especially those who are worried about long-distance charges). Also if you wish to do a plain email money transfer which most major institutions allow with minimal charges, please let me know (email money transfers work the same way as a bank transfer except with an email address–it’s that simple and just as secure).

Please remember that monies received by you are not an endorsement or support for the Liberal Party of Canada.

Once again, Happy Holidays/ Happy New Year!

Thank you/Chi-Miigwetch
Naomi Sayers

Also, unless otherwise stated, your name/organization will be featured on my website http://www.kwetoday.com and given public recognition for your efforts.

This Christmas, I almost made the decision not to come home. I am glad that I did. It’s not a far trip to come home (in comparison to my other friends) but it isn’t exactly a short one either. I planned to stay home and work on some to-do lists and readings for school. Then, not long after making this decision, I called home (which I do practically every day), and got news that my dad could come pick me up. I debated but not too long. Within a few days, I made the decision.

The trip home seemed like a short one. Normally, it feels like it takes forever. There was no snow. We made a few wrong turns, which were quite entertaining actually. The first one was just outside Woodstock region. My dad had to make a stop. I asked him why. “Just nevermind.” That’s my dad for ya!

Finally when we made it to Toronto, my dad took me and Alicia out to eat at a nice Italian restaurant. Before going to this place, my dad said that he didn’t want to spend a lot of money on pizza anywhere. That’s understandable. We walked to the restaurant from my sister’s place. It wasn’t far. But when we arrived, I told him “This place looks expensive.” He just says, “No, let’s go in.” It was a nice place. Cozy. Everyone seemed to know everyone. Hugging everywhere (or maybe that’s what Italians do). The pizza was really good and at a reasonable price for Toronto. “La Passione” … I recommend it.

When we had left for the final trip up north, I was still sluggish. Well it was early in the morning and I was still recovering from being sick that previous week. During the trip, I was able to read. I brought my earphones to listen to my ipod but this time I opted not to. I wanted to enjoy my time with my dad who I haven’t seen in a long time (okay well maybe since the summer…still that’s a long time for me). It was a safe trip since we ultimately made it Sudbury to drop off the rental car. Moving our luggage into my family’s vehicle, my dad noticed one of the tires were flat (well, not entirely flat but flat enough to be concerned about another 1.5-2 hour drive). Luckily, we made it to an auto-garage to get it fixed. I remember sitting in these garages with my dad as a kid. I hated it but when I sat there, I didn’t mind it. I was spending time with my dad. We both chuckled when we wondered what my sister’s pet ferret must be thinking about where the car was going and all that noise. It wasn’t a long wait. The tire was fixed and it was done at no charge (I don’t know if that’s a normal thing to do but it was nice either way). Finally on the road for last lag of the trip, all the way to Manitoulin Island.

We arrived at my sister’s house. I didn’t even wait to grab my luggage and ran inside. As I opened the door, my nephew ran out of the bedroom, pyjamas, messy hair, inquisitive look. As soon as he noticed it wasn’t someone he could recognize, he ran back in. Scared. My sister came out with my nephew and decided to let him stay up for a bit longer. I was happy. He saw the Western Mustang on my pants, pointed and said, “Naaaay!” He then saw my sister’s pet ferret, pointed and started panting like a dog. Yup, that’s a classic example of Piaget’s pre-operational stage in child development for you: everything with a tail, four legs, and fur is a dog. Little people have a way to bring a smile to your face with all these little things that they do. Within a few minutes, he was running and playing with me. I just love my nephew so much.

While at the house, we ate some supper, played some games, watched my nephew being silly, etc. Sitting here writing this post, I am happy that I came home. The one thing that I asked from my family was not to get to me anything this year. Yet, coming to pick me up in London was the greatest gift of all. I am thankful to see my growing, inquisitive, smiling young nephew. I am thankful that both of my parents are still here. I am thankful that my mom is able to cook me and my family some good freakin’ meals, holidays or not. I am thankful for the snow that is coming down today. Being thankful for all these things, I must not forget about those that are not that fortunate. Those without a family. Those apart from their family. Those without a home. Those without a bed. Those without clothing. Those without warmth, love, etc. Those who have family and friends making a different journey home…to the spirit world. All of which are in my thoughts/prayers this weekend. Like I wrote earlier, the greatest gift of all, for me, is being able to come home and spend the weekend with family.

This is not the first of Harper’s initiatives that greatly affects Aboriginals who are already facing high rates of incarceration within Canada’s federal prison system. Harper’s “Truth in Sentencing Act” which proposed limits on the amount of credit a judge could give to an individual who spent time in pre-sentencing custody. According to the article,

Aboriginal offenders tend to be released later in their sentences (lower parole grant rates), are overrepresented in segregation populations, are more likely to have served previous youth and/or adult sentences, are more often held to the expiry of their sentence, are classified as more likely to reoffend and have their conditional release revoked more often and are classified as higher risk and higher need.

Read the entire article titled here: “The National Shame of Aboriginal Incarceration.

That means more Aboriginals spend more time sitting in remand (that means still sitting institutions locked up) and because of the Truth in Sentencing Act, they will not receive credit for the time spent before sentencing. No more 2 for 1. This piece of legislation came into effect last year on February 23, 2011.

And according to AFN’s statement THIS YEAR, Harper’s Tough-on-Crime Bill will hurt First Nations. Yeah, let’s state the obvious. With this previous bill (now legislation), Harper was warned that this would hurt Aboriginals and yet even when he didn’t have majority, it still went through.

In the mean time, welcome to Canada…Canada! Repeated layers of oppression right on top of each other for the already oppressed! Yay for Harper! **enter sarcasm** Thank you, you are earning brownie points with the Aboriginals…

Lately, I have been writing in a journal more. Sort of reflection on my feelings, my thoughts, my experiences, my wins, my losses. I want to be able to learn from them all. Good or bad.

I am writing this blog post because I had thought about my childhood lately. Recalling events and my feelings during these events and things I learned. The one occurring theme is that my dad was there to teach me something: to keep on moving on and be strong.

As a kid, I remember my sisters and I had tied these string swings to the tree branches that stood tall in our front yard. I don’t know why we did it because my dad had built us a nice swing made out of thick yellow nylon rope and a nice piece of sanded down wood for us to sit on. There were about 4 of these string swings. There were literally made out of smaller yellow nylon string and one end was tied to a tree branch and the other would be tied the same branch to form a “u” shaped swing. One day I was riding my bike around the yard, enjoying myself on a nice sunny day then all of a sudden I lift my head up and my butt off my banana seat bike that was passed down to me from my sister who received it from our oldest sister (A bike passed down 3x). I loved this bike but as I lifted my head and came around the tree and under the tree branch, WHACK! Or whatever noise the nylon string swing had made that day. I was literally clothes-lined by the swings me and my sisters had made. It hurt. I couldn’t speak. I jumped off my bike and walked over to my dad. By the time I got over to my dad I was able to breathe again and had burst out crying while holding my throat. My dad asked me what happened and I told him. He stepped away from his truck that he was working on, looked at me, said I would be alright, and within 2 seconds went back to work on his truck.

I love my dad. When I think of this, I laugh and I wonder why me and my sister built those swings when my dad had built a nice swing for us already. I wonder why I was riding my bike around with my head down and then wonder why I all of a sudden decided to stand up while riding my bike. What I don’t wonder about is why my dad didn’t comfort me…. I wasn’t really hurt. I was just stunned. Keep on moving on and that is what both he and I did that did. I continued to play and he continued to work on his truck.

Then again as a kid, I remember going for a walk down to the water with my dad. It was a sunny day and we did this frequently as a family. That day, and I don’t remember why, I had a penny in my mouth. Seriously, I don’t know why I had the penny in my mouth. We were walking all in a straight line and I remember I looked down, stepped into a swampy area by accident, almost fell, then POOF! The penny went down my throat. I choked, gagged, and by the time the penny was in my stomach, I looked up at my dad, started crying and said I swallowed a penny. He just looked at me, kept on walking and said, “You will be alright.” I was alright. The only thing now was when we returned home I had to poop in a port-a-potty type thing, put it outside (Well my dad did that; things parents must do for their kids, eh?) and then wait until the penny reared its ugly little face. Sorry about that. A bit much? Yeah, gross. I learned not to put pennies in my mouth again or any money at all. When I read the Cree Proverb,

“Only when the last tree is cut; only when the last river is polluted; only when the last fish is caught; only then will they realize that you cannot eat money.”

Literally, you cannot eat money!

Again, I love my dad. When I think of this, I laugh and I wonder why the hell did I put the penny in my mouth in the first place. What I don’t wonder about is why my dad didn’t comfort me…. I wasn’t really hurt. I was just stunned. Keep on moving on and that is what both he and I did that did. I stopped crying, kept walking and so did he.

3 Things I have learned from these incidents:

1. If the going gets tough, even if it is only for a few seconds, keep on going and keep strong.
2. My dad knows best.
3. And the Crees are right: you can’t eat money.

So I am not sure how this might come across to some people but I thought I would share it anyways. I am always hesitant to who I tell this to but I thought that I shouldn’t be scared of my past anymore. My past shouldn’t own who I am; I should own my past.

There was a time that I had a lot of anger built up inside me. I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t know how to handle it. Unfortunately, my first run in with the police was when I was about 13 years old. I had a fight with a girl at my elementary school. She was scared and told her parents. Then the police came by my house and spoke to my mom. My mom then spoke to me. I never fought another girl again.

Then another time, I was running away from the hospital after they told me that I couldn’t practice my traditional medicines (I had been in the hospital for overdosing and they wouldn’t let my family see me even–they thought my family was the problem). I eventually came out to my family who was looking for me and they brought me home safely. I hid there until the Anishnabek Police came. They simply asked my mom, “Is she safe Sharon?” They knew she had me. They weren’t that silly. My mom said, “Yes” and they went on their way.

That wasn’t the last time I had a run in with the police. Over the course of the next 6-7 years, I did a lot of things that I just couldn’t explain. It was strange. I don’t know why I did them. The way I could explain these things happening to me was that, I would almost always feel like I was watching myself from a far when these things happened. I later learned this was a thing called “dissociation.” It’s as the word says, the mind, body, emotions, whichever part of that person literally “dissociates” from another. It is a defense mechanism to those who have suffered trauma, rape and/or abuse. I didn’t learn about this until my first year of university here in London. It has brought a lot of understanding to my actions and me.

Unfortunately, again, the last major run in with the police was when I was 21. During that time, I was fortunate enough to be apart of a new court program that eliminated my jail time. Did I spend some time in jail? Sure. The longest time spent? I can’t really remember exactly (and I don’t really want to remember) but it was more than 2 days but less than 7. At least I think, it might have been longer. Not sure. (You lose track of time and days when you don’t really see the outside world). I then met a lady who was part of the court program who I had to see once a week. I remember when I first met her I felt at home. Her voice was so soothing. Her office was the comfiest place I could have ever been in while staying in London. Then before even my court program had ended, she announced that she was leaving for a different position. My thoughts then were, “Being abandoned again.” Today, I would have thought of this as a learning process and a process to start growing on my own.

Then recently, I had attended an event on the Indian Residential School System in Canada. I had looked up at this lady and she looked so familiar but I didn’t want to keep staring at her. Within 5 minutes of sitting down, she came up to me and said to me, “you look really familiar. Have we met before?” And I smiled and I said the same thing, which was she looked familiar to me too. I didn’t know from where though. So we said our Hellos and then she went on to prepare for the presentation.

The entire time I sat there during the presentation listening to what she had to say. I also kept trying to figure out where I knew she was from. It wasn’t college. It wasn’t university. It wasn’t an event that I volunteered at either.

Then I had a sort of an Aha! Moment. She was the woman who had been my counsellor during my court program. I remembered her because of her voice. I then started to tear up. Not because I was sad but because I was honoured. Here I was sitting there now listening to the same lady’s story who had taken the time earlier in my life during a troubled time to hear my story and help me. It was moving because I met her in an institution and a system that was oppressive to First Nations people. I remember her saying during this presentation,

“It is funny how [Aboriginal men and women] now learn their culture in an institution when it was an institution that took it away”

And I could relate because when I moved to London, I had no idea where to go and the only way I found out was through this system. I had what I knew from growing up and from what my parents taught me but I wanted to practice my culture again. Living in London, I had a hard time finding that and the right people to go to but after being in this court program… I oddly found out.

It is a strange conundrum: It was an institution, the residential school system, then that oppressed our culture and tried to take it away but it is an institution, prisons, jails, criminal justice systems, now that oppress Aboriginal people but allows those that are involved in them to learn about their culture.

Now, and during that event, I was sitting there in school listening to her presentation, her story, her children respond to answers from the audience as a criminology student, a better person. Today, I work in the legal industry. Most people see me as “always smiling” or “always positive.” Trust me, I have lots to smile about and to remain positive for. Work. School. Family. Friends. Freedom.

I don’t have a criminal record but I have experience within the system. Now, I hope one day to work with Aboriginal women who enter the justice system whether it be they are an offender or a victim (or in most cases with Aboriginal people who enter the criminal justice system especially Aboriginal women, they are both a victim to and an offender of the justice system). I also hope to work with social service agencies or policing agencies to help them better address the needs of Aboriginal people who enter the criminal justice system or better understand their situations. There needs to be a greater understanding of the situations that surround Aboriginal people, especially Aboriginal women and why or how they enter the justice system. I hope to one day use my education and my knowledge and my experiences in bringing about that greater understanding.