Todays’s blog is going to be a little different. I won’t talk about some of my life experiences, but the thoughts behind what lead me to share my story.

Everyone has a story. Everyone’s experiences help shape them. I know there are a lot of Indigenous people out there who have stories like mine, but a lot of our stories are swept under the carpet. We’re too “sensitive” or we’re always complaining. It boils down to understanding people, their background, and their experiences. It’s the ignoring of our experiences which bothers me. I feel that people need to hear about what we face on a daily, weekly, monthly basis to help understand us. There are far too many people out there who have misconceptions. These experiences can either make us or break us. Our journeys are what we make of it; how we deal with our experiences is unique and tailored to us as individuals.

For myself, as I’ve mention before, healing began by attending a sweat. Ceremony is very powerful. From there I gathered my strength from having a great support system; my family and select friends. This whole blog is part of my journey. Releasing my stories I’ve kept inside for many years in hope of helping someone else along the way.

After returning to work from my leave I noticed things hadn’t changed. I saw too many instances where there were injustices, not only in my professional life, but within the schools themselves. The school I worked at had a Culture program. I was the teacher for that class. While I love my culture, I hated teaching the class. It always seemed that the class was filled with too many students and many of those students had behavioural issues. The odds were always stacked against having a successful Culture class. I was the “token Indian” at my school and I knew it. As long as the Culture class was in the three year plan, it looked good on paper. The reality was the class was often filled passed capacity. And many times the students didn’t even choose that class so they were upset about being in it and often behaved accordingly. I often felt that the class was set up for failure.

My relationship with the fellow who got the job over me deteriorated and I fully take responsibility for that happening. I didn’t have any ill will towards him, in fact I quite liked him as a person. But every time I looked at him he was a constant reminder of something I was totally against. He was a living, breathing reminder to me of white male privilege. I desperately wanted to be the person I was with him prior to this whole situation (friendly, joking, talking), but I just couldn’t. The constant daily reminder drove me deeper into a hole than I had ever been before. I had a hard time waking up and going to work every day. I would wake up an hour before work, but it took me a half an hour to get out of bed. I ended up taking a leave for two months as in September of the year he started his new venture I was in tears daily. My teaching self esteem and self esteem in general took the biggest plummet since I began teaching. I just didn’t want to be in the environment I was teaching in.

During my leave I took time to focus on myself and getting mentally healthy. I went to a conference in a different province with one of my best friends. At this conference I saw Indigenous people from all over Canada and their successes. It was nice to see the successes of my own people. The fire within me was lit again, I was surrounded by successful Indigenous people.

I also travelled over 3600 km in under 48 hours in order to heal my heart and my head. My dad firmly believed I needed to get the two of them working together and healthy again. My best friend took me to a sweat. I cried for just about the entire first round. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, they flowed endlessly. While I was in the sweat I knew I needed to take my power back, that’s one thing my friend had always told me. She’s a big believer in Indigenous people taking back power and not putting up with shit.

Probably the most damaging experience I had in my job was when I applied for an administrator position and was overlooked. The job was given to another person who had way less teaching experience and leadership experience. I’ll stick to the facts. At that point in time in my teaching career I had 14 years of classroom experience, the other person had four years. I had six years of Acting Admin experience, the other candidate had five months. I also had a year of a leadership program (basically a Vice Principal in training course), the other candidate did not have this experience (the other candidate applied for it, but I was the one who was offered the position). The person who came to the school to offer me the leadership program position told me I came highly recommend from both my principal and vice principal for the leadership position.

When I went to head office for my interview for the administrator position I saw his name on the sign in sheet and knew what he was there for without even asking him. I also knew that if it came down to him and I as possible candidates for the job he would be chosen over me regardless of my experiences and my resume. And I knew exactly why he’d get the job over me. My intuition is very keen and accurate at times. I’ve learned throughout the years to trust it. I didn’t get the job. I was told that it was a tough decision and it boiled down to one question which he answered better than I did. The question had to do with coaching teachers and I answered it in a way I thought that one of the interviewees would like to hear as I spent time in the leadership program with him as he facilitated it. Our experiences were not looked at, just the answers to the interview questions. For the leadership position I was highly recommended, how did this person who applied for the same position only a year ago get the vice principalship over me? Three words why he got the job over me: white male privilege. Career wise this was the most damaging to me as I took it personally. I felt so alone because no one understood me where I worked at.

My principal at the time the VP position was open made it hard for me to use her as a reference. The year before I had emailed and asked if I could use her as a reference and she replied quickly via email. This time it was different. When I asked she said we needed to discuss it. I was a bit confused as to why we’d need to discuss it as she had never done that in the past. She made it difficult for me to meet with her and I didn’t end up using her as a reference. Part of me believes she made it hard on me so the other person would get the job.

I asked her again if I could use her as a reference after the VP position was filled as I wanted to get out of that school and was basically blown off. I never used her name on my resume ever again.

At one school I noticed one administrator who seemed to have a negative attitude towards the subject of First Nations, Metis and Inuit. I thought that maybe I was too sensitive and was over analyzing the actions. Turns out I wasn’t being overly sensitive. I talked to another Indigenous person at our school and they noticed the same thing. Body language tells a lot and I noted rolling of the eyes when speaking about any Indigenous topic, they noted the same thing. One year another staff member and I wanted to acknowledge Orange Shirt Day at our monthly assembly. I took charge and had my class help with the presentation. This staff member also spoke during the assembly. The principal went up to the staff member afterwards to give the person heck for taking so long in the assembly. Not a word was said to me. Yet a couple months later another staff member took a long time in the assembly (the topic was not related to any Indigenous materials) and nothing was said.

The next year came around and one of my goals was to acknowledge Orange Shirt Day again. I presented my idea to the VP and principal and while I was delivering my ideas I noticed the principal rolling her eyes again. It made me nervous, but I knew the VP was on board. Prior to the meeting I was nervous because I knew the principal wouldn’t be totally receptive.

I remember one year one of the administrators saying that instead of National Aboriginal Day we were going to have multicultural day because she was tired of all the phone calls she received (negative calls about why the school celebrated the day). Between the principal and the area it was evident the perception of us was still negative. In fact now on National Indigenous Peoples Day there are hardly any students who attend school because they choose to stay home that day.

I remember one time applying for a job. Most times employers will not contact you if you are not selected for an interview. This time I must’ve been “special” because I got a phone call from a higher up and she told me “you weren’t even considered for the job”. She said it in a snotty tone and kind of chuckled at me. This statement came from the same person who would never acknowledge me when she was in the place I worked at. I remember one time being in the front office and she talked to everyone, but me. I even said hello to her, but she continued on like I didn’t exist. This was a regular occurrence throughout my years working at that place.

The school district I worked for hired an outside researcher to gather information in regards to First Nations, Metis and Inuit. Being the only Indigenous teacher at the school I was asked to participate. I was leery at first because I thought that the information I might share would come back to me in some way, shape or form. I ended up sharing my story and ended up in tears as it brought back memories of injustices throughout the years as a student and a teacher from the district. The findings of that research was never released and I think it was due to the negative findings. I have always wondered what came of that research. Rumour had it the results were not too pleasant and that doesn’t surprise me.

In 2009 we headed down to southern part of my province: my parents, my son and I. We went to attend a family function. The nearest place for shopping was a large town. My dad went to Canadian Tire, of course, to do his shopping. My mom, my son and I headed to the dollar store. When we got back to the truck I could tell something was up with my dad. He told me while he was in Canadian Tire he was pushing a cart and had put two jugs of antifreeze in there as there was a good sale on them. My dad has always taken good care of his vehicles so when he saw a good sale he’d stock up on necessary items. An older man, non-Indigenous, came walking by him, looked in his cart, then looked at my dad and asked “Are you guys still drinking that?” My dad didn’t respond to him. Throughout the years he learned that sometimes it’s best not to acknowledge those types of remarks. I was instantly mad and kept asking “is that him?” when I saw old men walking out of Canadian Tire. It still makes my blood boil just writing about that incident.

My child has light dirty blonde hair and his eyes are hazel. When my child was born he had strawberry blonde hair, a far cry from the brown hair and brown eyes that both my parents and I have. One time I had my son at a basketball game and a comment was made to me that he’ll never have to go through what we have to (meaning he’d never have to see the racism in ways we’ve experienced). While this is true, I do know he’ll experience it from our own people. He’s too “white” looking to be Indigenous in their eyes. My son once told me that even though his father is non-Indigenous, he’s mainly Indigenous. I know he’s being raised right when he’s proud of our culture.

My dad attended a senior hockey game in the 90s. He was watching a family member play hockey. One of the opposing team “fans” threw a puck at the bench, but the puck went into the crowd. The team mainly consistent of Indigenous hockey players. It was a teenager who threw the puck and he hit my dad near his temple. He had to be taken to the hospital to get stitches. Growing up in certain parts of this country you know which towns don’t like Indigenous people. The town where my dad got hit was one of the towns where you know they don’t like us. There were several times when the RCMP had to escort the hockey players and their bus out of town. The province where I live has many areas which are known to be racist against Indigenous people. Some are worse than others; you know which places to avoid.

The Indigenous hockey team was playing at a different out of town arena and one of the opposing fans decided he would dump garbage on the player as they walked to their dressing room. This arena/town was notorious for treating Indigenous people like we were beneath them. My mom grabbed the guy’s hair and when he turned around he was going to hit her, but realized it was a woman. She told him that she had family walking there and no one was going to dump garbage on them. A few weeks after the incident he saw her and said “hey I know you”, my mom said “and I know you”. My mom was like a mama bear when it came to her family.