Out with the old…silence

Some people call this a weed. A dandelion plays just as important a role in life as a rose does.

Too often though, this flower gets pulled out of the ground, cursed and thrown away to compost.

For the past year I have been tracking my phone to find out how much my friends have called me.

It turns out…not.

And so this is the year of being done. I am not going to put the effort into people that no longer desire to have me in their life.

I will not be thrown away…though that is what it feels like. My life has had some events that have caused people to question my stability and choices. Fair enough. Remember though, your glass house is on shaky ground as well.

The people who have been in my life this last year are the ones who will be given the attention. These are the people who stepped up without judgment. The ones who accepted me for the whole package, flaws and all.

Thank you for teaching me what is important.

The Air Between Us

This is what our families are going through day after day.

A Halfbreed's Reasoning

The air between us is thick; it’s palpable and heavy as the news anchor relays the story of how a fifteen year old Nish girl drowned in the Red River.  Our pho sits untouched on the table, congealing, as we both watch the TV and refuse to look at each other.  She drowned in the river my people fought for, was abused in the city my blood comes from, and murdered by this country we are supposed to call home.  I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I feel like you’re watching me for my reaction out of the corner of your eye.

 Is this what Indigenous intimacy feels like?  Bone crushing sadness felt between two friends when we learn of one of our relation’s murders?  

I can still feel you watching me out of the corner of your eye, I don’t know what you’re waiting for.  I’m struggling…

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Rant. Don’t want your opinion either. It’s my rant.

Be forewarned, I am very serious about not wanting “your” opinion on my rant. I don’t care what you think of my rant. It is my rant. And it has been stewing inside of me for too long.

Awhile ago, I had a conversation with a cousin. This said cousin is a born again Christian. This said cousin doesn’t believe that my being a first nations woman practicing my first nations traditions is right. She thinks it is the work of the devil. That being said, she also thinks that I should and I quote “Get your status so that you can get an education and do something with your life!”. It’s not okay for me to attend the sweat lodge, it is not okay for me to smudge with sweetgrass and sage, but get your status and milk the system for all it’s worth. That attitude is the exact reason I have never gotten my status to begin with. I don’t need the government assigning me a number saying I am an indian…now go forth and get those benefits! There are no benefits! The lies that your government has put out there for so long regarding all the “bells and whistles” that come with getting “status” is just such a load of shit. I have heard this argument my whole life.

“You should get your status.”

“Your a fool for not getting your status.”

“Look at the tax breaks you would have!”

All these lies that are put out by the government, and thrown in my face almost daily can get to be too much. Why is okay to you all that I have to have a status card??? Why do I have to have a status card? Do you carry a status card??? No. You don’t.

Why don’t you have a status card? Oh….because you are a landed immigrant. Your grandparents came to Canada from other countries, and you were born here.

But because my relatives were already here before your grandparents got here….I have to have a status card.

I am what is known as a stolen indian. I was stolen from my birth mother and given to the government. The government then adopted me out to an irish woman and an indian man that worked in the government.

So what that means is that in order for me to “get my status” I would need to find out about my birth family, which I did, and find out if I am registered with the band, which I am.  Then I have to “apply” to the band for my status, and if they “approve” I get to have a identity card that states I am a first nations woman. Whoopie!

Here is the problem. Let’s pretend I get that said identity card that states I am status. Then society has an open door policy on ripping me apart for “all the benefits that those native get that isn’t fair!” Which I hear about on a daily basis anyway.

And then imaginary money will fall from the sky and all my dreams will come true. In your world that is what seems to be the disney answer.

In reality though….as a status indian everything must be approved by the band. Medical has a cap of 1,500.00 monies per year, which is lower than regular medical care that the province gives to the non status peoples. If I need new glasses, the band has to approve that. If I want to go to school, the band has to approve that.  Are you getting the idea yet?

And as for this “housing” that is free…again…I would have to actually LIVE ON THE RESERVE, and the band would have to approve that.

Because this is how your government set it all up. Here indians, we will give you a spot to live on, but you have to do it this way. Our way. And if you don’t like that way, then you don’t have to do it our way.

So by choice I live my life as a common person. Without status. By choice. Because I don’t want the government telling me what I can and can’t do. Even through a band office.

And as for my choice about practicing my traditional ways, I seem to be doing just fine thank you.

Please stop imposing “YOUR” idea of what I am “SUPPOSE” to be doing.



wowThis was on twitter today, and it said above the top of the picture:

Did your school have a graveyard?

#ResidentialSchools did.

So I took this picture and posted onto my facebook page letting everyone know that I don’t have to “get over it”.


‎’As Indians we are told to forget and move on, “what happened in the past is history”. But when we look at 9/11, we are told to never forget. I guess if Residential Schools and Colonization involved more bombs and less sexual violence, small pox and cultural genocide; we too would have the right to say “Never Forget.”
—  Ivo-lution Haggerty


This was written by a girl named Summer on Tumblr. Again, this had a big impact on me and I thought it went well with the picture.

Just Let It Go Already

Let’s talk about your

Taxpayer’s money wasted

On the greedy savages

That need to learn to just

“Let it go”.

Let’s talk about your

Overwhelming need to maintain your

White privilege,

So strong,

That you would have the nerve

To tell my grandmother to just

“Get over”

The hand of the priest

That slithered up her leg

When she was too young to even

Comprehend that type of evil.

To tell the children,

Who grew up too soon,

That they were no cleaner

Than the dirt underneath the fingernails

Of your blood-stained hands.

And to tell these children,

Who grew up too fast,

 To “just let go” of

The attempted destruction of

What were only children,

Born without warning,

Into a world that would teach them that

They were wrong

In the eyes of a god

That they had never known.

Tell me to

“Just let go”

Of the fact that

I will never speak the language of my ancestors

Because for centuries

They were told to 

“Just let it go”.

Let’s talk about what we need to 

“Just let go”.

She said What?!


Thrift store shopping is something that is my fun time. Get away from life and have a walk through another time. Looking at things old and older just make me smile.

With my arms filled up with books, and other “crap you don’t need” as my pappa says, I get into line to purchase my “crap”.

{As I look around my room…he may have a point. Shhhh…don’t let him know that though!}

There is an older lady speaking to one of the workers. The worker is trying to put merchandise out on the shelf, while this lady is very busy bothering her. And by old I am talking only around 62ish, so not that old, just old enough to know better.

And here is how the situation went…

Old Lady: “Those glasses are too expensive! I know that for a fact, I am very price savvy.”

Worker: “Um hum, thank you for sharing.”

Old Lady: “Are you going to change the prices on those glasses? I told you they are too expensive!”

Worker: “Not right now I’m not ma’am.”

Old Lady: “But I told you that those are too expensive!”

Worker: “Yes ma’am, in the store these are very expensive, and here this is the discounted price. Which is quite resonable.”

Old Lady: “But those are too expensive! I already told you that! Why aren’t you changing the price?”

Worker: Silence.

Old Lady: “Why are you being so rude to me? I said, why are you so rude young lady? You are so rude! Why are you so rude?”

Worker: Silence

ME: turns around, looks directly at old lady and I say to her “YOU are being rude ma’am, not her. You are being rude. That young lady is just doing her job and is not in charge of pricing. She is in charge of putting merchandise onto the shelf. Please stop being rude to her.”

Old Lady: Wha..? Listen here sweetheart…”

ME: “Please don’t be condescending toward me. You are the one being rude. Please stop being belligerent to that young lady and talk to management if you have problem, not her.”

Old Lady: “Oh, well, you are JUST SO SURREY!”

Management then comes over, and gently takes old lady away. The other customers around me who have watched this entire situation in quiet are now thanking me for standing up to her.

One lady was laughing so hard and patted my shoulder saying: “Wow! I never heard that expression before!”

And we laughed and laughed.

First of all, there is nothing wrong with Surrey, BC.

Second of all crazy old lady…we are IN Surrey, so what does that mean? You are not insulting me, you are merely showing your true colours, and when confronted with your own bad behavior resort to the childish name calling.

Morale of the story:

Please when you are shopping and have a problem with the prices no matter what store you are in…

Understand that the person who is helping you is NOT the cause of YOUR miserable attitude. YOU are. These people work very hard and get paid very little and put up with SO much crap from “customers”. Show some respect toward your fellow human.

Or someone like me is going to come along and confront you on that said behavior.