Ta-toos, a new pad, school and our future as Quu'as

I just can't keep my nephew off this page...he's so adorable and I love the kid so much. So this past happy-colonial-turkey day we had a quiet dinner with my sis, her husband, my mom, my mom's sis, my pops and Kashus and their Scottish neighbour. I commented to a friend, that I consider it a victory that my sis and I have managed to banish brussell sprouts forever it seems, and at the very least we engage in some decolonization discussion as we munch on our free-range bird.


Kashus' Nuu-chah-nulth name is "Ta-toos" by the way, which means star. A common refrain I know, but it is hard to believe how quickly it seems he is growing. He seems less a baby and more a little boy now. Although I talk to him now, and sometimes in our language (although my father is much better at it of course) I look forward to the day when I can understand what he is saying back to me. Ta-toos reminds me that our struggle to live and thrive and rebuild our societies is a long, generational process.


As I mentioned briefly in my previous post, I have indeed found a new pad, a place to lay my hat and call my own for at least the next 6 1/2 months. It's a small 1-bedroom above and behind a flower shop on Quadra. It seems like a pretty old place as I discovered the walls were still made from lathe and plaster as I put boxes and stuff in the storage spaces. I've almost completed my unpacking and will be ready to host a book club, revolutionary meeting or poker game soon.


Earlier in the week the Nuu-chah-nulth post-secondary students were invited to an NTC-hosted dinner at Macaroni Grill (Damn the Atkins Revolution anyway!) It was good to see some familiar faces and new faces. When I discovered there weren't going to be any speeches I tried to encourage Kelly to say something and then Dawn, but alas they tried to get me to say something. I teased, by volunteering my education = assimilation speech but decided against it.

I jest but I am also serious in feeling that Indigenous students should think critically and honestly about their chosen areas of education and hopeful vocations. What are our responsibilities? Are we different than your average Canadian student? Do we owe our families, our communities? Is not only the preservation but perpetuation of a uniquely Indigenous way of life important? And if so, how do we craft such a life in the face of such strong societal and family pressures todo otherwise?

I have thought a great deal about these questions and am comfortable with my current place and role. I do generally agree that one cannot use the master's tools to dismantle the master's house (and at the same time live a life that is authentically Indigenous and yes I am aware of how essentialist this sounds). I think the decades-long trend of "running in the white man's shoes", while well-intentioned in its conception has led toward many undesirable roads and destinations. I do believe that we need to re-think our roles and directions in life and yes I willingly admit that compromise is an inevitable part of life for most people, but I still believe our ways our beautiful and we must protect and promote those core values and principles that can serve us in this modern world without losing our souls.