For lesson 3.3, I was assigned to examine pages 162 – 177 of Thomas King’s Green Grass Running Water. I was thrilled to be assigned this section, as it focuses primarily on the interactions and relationships of Karen and Eli, and Lionel and Alberta, respectively. The structure is interesting in that the time period of the narration continuously shifts from present to past. In pages 162 – 166, the narrative voice discusses the relationship of Eli and Karen, and takes him from reading a book on the couch, to reminiscing of meeting Karen’s parents. Pages 167 – 1173 have the same structure, but focus first on Lionel’s interactions with the Native American elders Lone Ranger, Ishmael, Robinson Crusoe, and Hawkeye. Finally, 174 – 177 offer a view of the struggle of Lionel’s partner, Alberta, in wanting children but not marriage or a relationship.

Classic visual interpretations of Hawkeye, Robinson Crusoe,

Lone Ranger, and Ishmael

Green Grass Running Water is so thick with historical points and intricate character development that I simply cannot cover everything in this blog. Therefore, I am going to focus primarily on a few main points: Alberta Frank, Eli, and how the quintessential Canada is pulled into question by King.

Alberta Frank

I found the character of Alberta most interesting, and therefore will begin with her. Obviously, her name matches that of the Canadian province of Alberta. She is the main female character in Green Grass Running Water, and as Jane Flick explains, “King may be showing a little fondness for the province itself since he lived in and taught in Lethbridge, Alberta, from 1980-1990” (144). Alberta’s last name, Frank, can also be speculated to refer to the town of Frank, Alberta, on the Turtle River. “This town was a major disaster site, buried by the famous Frank Slide of 1903″ (Flick, 144). This was Canada’s deadliest rock slide, killing 90 people in less than two minutes, when 82 million tons of rock fell from the summit of Turtle Mountain into the Crowsnest River valley below (Frank Slide Interpretive Centre). Rapidly changing weather is thought to have played a large role in the cause of the slide – heavy snowpack followed by unseasonably warm temperatures, and then a rapid, deep freeze. This deep freeze caused expansion of the previously melting water, creating a powerful wedge that drove the section of rock away from the mountain face. The sound of the sliding rock was so significant that it was heard up to 200 kilometres away from the site itself.

The Frank Slide, 1903

A main conflict in this section of the novel, both a moral and societal dilemma, surround the issue of Alberta wishing to have a child outside of the confines of marriage, or a relationship at all. King highlights her independence:

“I’d like a room for the night.”

“Mr. and Mrs.?”

“No, a room for one.” (174)

And furthermore (bolding added for emphasis):

“Does the lady have a major credit card?”

Alberta put her card on the desk.

“Does the lady have a car?”

“The blue Nissan parked next to the red thing.”

“And does the lady require any help with her bags?”

Alberta smiled and leaned forward on the counter. (175)

Alberta evokes her independence through limited dialogue, spending most of this section alone. She also seeks out routes for artificial insemination, a path in which she could bear a child without the physical or emotional aid of a partner. After conducting some research, it seems Alberta is a character ahead of her time! More and more women are choosing to have a child, or children, alone instead of sticking within the traditional realm of marriage.

The Bennett Clinic is names as one of the only clinics that “take single women” for the purpose of artificial insemination (King, 177). As Jane Flick explains, the clinic is “ironically named for R.B. Bennett (1870- 1947), a prominent Alberta politician, member for Calgary, who was Prime Minister from 1930-35″ (156).

“Most of the clinics won’t take single women. I think it’s a question of morals.”

“Morals?”

“One clinic will take single women. But you have to get a letter from me testifying to your physical health, your mental health, and your morals.”

“Morals?”

“In the first instance, they figure that if you’re not married you’re not trying. In the second instance, they figure that if you’re not married but trying hard, you’re not the kind of person they want to associate with.”

“I just want a child. I don’t want a husband.”

“The Bennett Clinic in Edmonton.” (177).

It seems odd, or perhaps indeed ironic, that an institute going against social morals would be named after the leader of Canada, and a fairly highly respected leader in that. R.B. Bennett was Prime Minister during the worst years of The Great Depression, and his leadership was not as well reflected or received as perhaps it would have been otherwise at a different time period. Perhaps these feelings are reflected in King’s use of his name.

Eli Stands Alone 

Eli’s name “suggests Elijah Harper, who blocked the Meech Lake Constitutional Accord in 1990 by being the standout vote in the Manitoba legislature. He voted against a debate that did not allow full consultation with the First Nations and that recognized only the English and the French as founding nations” (Flick, 150).  Harper is described as the solitary voice of dissent against the Meech Lake Constitutional Accord, refusing the support the motion. Obviously, King’s creativity in giving Eli his name is quite fitting, and shows respect to the Aboriginal Leader hero that Harper is remembered as.

Throughout pages 162 – 166, there are a number of dialogue exchanges in which the social divide between Eli, an Aboriginal, and Karen and her family, is highlighted.

1. “Karen liked the idea that Eli was Indian, and she forgave him, she said, his pedestrian taste in reading, and at the end of the summer, after Karen had come back from an extended vacation in France with her family, she and Eli moved in together.” (163)

2. “Looks good,” he shouted.

“Thought you Indians had keen eyes.” Herb laughed, and he hung the bucket on the ladder and came down. (165)

As well as the differences in socioeconomic standing that are alluded to:

3. “It had always been obvious that Karen had money, and moving from his fourth-floor studio walk-up into Karen’s brownstone just off Avenue Road reminded him of the distance the two of them had crossed. The flat was simple enough and there was no conspicuous show of wealth, but even Eli could tell that the rugs on the floor were Persians and the paintings and rings on the walls were not the cheap reproductions that the university book store sold.” (163)

Would the real Elijah Harper please stand up?

(This, of course, referring to Mr. Harper standing in parliament holding an eagle feather to show his disagreement with the Meech Lake Constitutional Accord)

My final thought to try and process is the ideas of the “quintessential” Canadian that King points to in the dialogue surrounding Eli.

“That one is by A.Y. Jackson. The other is by Tom Thompson. What do you think?”

“They’re great.”

“It’s the light. It makes the land look . . . mystical.”

“They’re great.” (164)

For those of you who know art, or do not know art, I feel safe in assuming that most of us would be able to pick out a Tom Thompson painting for the recognizable Canadian landscape that he so successfully created with paint and paper. Tom Thompson was an extremely influential painter in the 20th century, and helped to establish the ground work for the later formation of the Group of Seven, unfortunately suffering a mysterious death before it’s formal establishment.

The Jack Pine

Karen’s need to point out both Tom Thompson and A.Y. Jackson to Eli remind me of how an adult might speak to a child at times. She appears to successfully insult him in a way by having to go out of her way to explain who these “true Canadian” artists are, almost as if because he is Aboriginal, he could certainly not understand or know. Throughout Green Grass Running Water there are additional allusions to Karen’s attempts to immerse Eli into Canadian culture. But this Canadian culture is her Canadian culture, making rise to the “us” vs. “them” mentality that has been discusses at length in previous blog posts.

I quite enjoyed this assignment, as it forced me to not just read the words, but examine them. Examine them for the culture context, King’s jokes, sarcasm, and history.

Thank you for reading!

Gillian

Works Cited

Flick, Jane. Reading Notes for Thomas King’s Green Grass, Running Water. www.canlit.ca. Canadian Literature, 9 Aug. 2012. Web. 8 Apr. 2014.

King, Thomas. Green Grass Running Water. Toronto: Harper Collins, 1993. Print.

“Personally, I’d want to hear a creation story, a story that recounts how the world was formed, how things came to be, for contained within creation stories are relationships that help to define the nature of the universe and how cultures understand the world in which they exist” (King, 10).

In this lesson Dr. Paterson has tasked us with a variety of questions, one of which asks us to examine the similarities and differences in the characteristics of two different creation stories. The first is the story with which I am familiar – that is, the Christian story of creation. The second story is from Thomas King’s creation story in The Truth About Stories. I will compare and contrast these stories, and outline the differences in religious emphasis.

The biblical story of creation is one of great structure and power. The one almighty power of God is creator of all, and step by step the world comes into being, starting with the distinguishing of day from night, light from dark, earth from the seas, and man from woman. God works with his sole power to create what he deems appropriate, satisfied after each day of creation. The story of simple, methodical, and seemingly easy to follow and understand. Simplified and humorous animated versions are available online, allowing for large gross consumption of the story. Although not extremely religious as a child and to this day, the story of Genesis is what I grew up with knowledge about, as I would imagine a large number of people did.

King’s creation story has obvious dramatic differences than the story found in the Bible. King’s story is well, more of a story in a sense, and this allows the reading of it to be a more energetic, narrative read. King successfully intertwines creation with characters, and a fun, lighthearted approach. The religious weight and emphasis in each story is obviously contrasting. Whereas the biblical story of creation is in the hands of God, the story of Charm puts emphasis on the shared efforts and work of all characters to allow for success.

 In the post-creation Christian story, Eve eats the apple after being told not to, and the following results is the removal of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. Interestingly, Charm’s fall to earth begins her intrigue and questioning of what is what, and where is where. She is told to not dig so deep, yet she does so anyways.

“Don’t dig too deep, Badger told her.

Mind your own business, Charm told him.

Okay, said Badger, but don’t blame me if you make a mistake.

You can probably guess what happened. That’s right, Charm dug right through to the other side of the world” (King, 13).

Although different stories, and interpretations of creation, both King’s version and that of Genesis share a common foundation. That is, of progression and development. Both stories can be contextualized as the reader wishes, and individuals can take from each story bits and pieces and in a sense, create their own story of creation. The differences in the creative interpretations makes it clear that there is no one story of creation, nor is there a “right” and “wrong”.

Thank you for reading,

Gillian

Works Cited

King, Thomas. “The Truth About Stories, A Native Narrative”. Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. Toronto. 2003.

For Dr. Paterson’s proposed questions for lesson 3.1, I have chosen to examine number two. That is, researching one of the state or governing activities “that excluded and discriminated against certain peoples based on ideas about racial inferiority and capacities to assimilate”. I have chosen to look research the Indian Act 1876 for many reasons – mostly driven by the feelings of anger and misunderstanding of this disgraceful piece of government legislation.

The Indian Act is a Canadian federal law that “authorizes the Canadian federal government to regulate and administer in the affairs and day-to-day lives of registered Indians and reserve communities” (Hanson). This act seeks ultimate control over Aboriginal affairs, in the form of inserting control over the ways and rights in which First Nations can practice their culture and traditions, as well as controlling land jurisdictions (reserves), and determining “who qualifies as Indian in the form of Indian status” (Hanson). Despite numerous amendments since the Indian Act’s introduction in 1876, the act remains dominantly in it’s original form. In whole, the Indian Act allows government control over essentially all aspects of Aboriginal life: land, resources, wills, education, status, and rights.

The Indian Act is the result of a consolidation of two separate pieces of legislation: the Gradual Civilization Act of 1857, and the Gradual Enfranchisement Act of 1869. The Gradual Civilization Act was a failure on all fronts. Through this act, enfranchisement was encouraged in order to assimilate “Indian people into Canadian settler society” (Hanson). As enfranchisement was voluntary, this act did not receive wide, nor any, response for the intent set forth. Instead, the Gradual Enfranchisement Act was introduced, establishing the elective band council system that remains intact today, as part of the Indian Act. The Gradual Enfranchisement Act also enabled governmental control over status Indians, and which benefits were granted to whom. This act marginalized the entire Aboriginal society.

A lovely quote from John A. McDonald, 1887, speaks to the mentality and mindset in which this legislation was set out:

“The great aim of our legislation has been to do away with the tribal system and assimilate the Indian people in all respects with the other inhabitants of the Dominion as speedily as they are fit to change.”

One of the most destructive aspect of the Indian Act is the “Potlatch Law”, which first banned potlatches, followed by the abolition of other important ceremonies, such as the sun dance. The importance of a potlatch focused on the distribution of wealth and was a marker for important ceremonies, especially for western coastal First Nations. Those in favour of assimilation felt that this form of wealth distribution was ineffective and wasteful. That is, shifting the economic happening to that of private property would be best for the culture – the opposite of what the potlatch stood for and represented. Please watch this video about the Kwakiutl  tribe, located on the western coast of Canada, specifically Vancouver Island.

The impact of potlatch bans is eloquently voiced by Judge Alfred Scow:

“This provision of the Indian Act was in place for close to 75 years and what that did was it prevented the passing down of our oral history. It prevented the passing down of our values. It meant an interruption of the respected forms of government that we used to have, and we did have forms of government by they oral and not in writing before any of the Europeans came to this country. We had a system that worked for us. We respected each other. We had ways of dealing with disputed.”

Relating back to lesson 2.3 regarding oral narratives and traditions, the results from banning these ceremonies is truly detrimental – history, traditions, and potlatch items (masks etc.) were all lost or seized from tribes. For 75 years some potlatch ceremonies were help secretly, therefore for illegally, and many individuals were jailed for attempting to continue cultural traditions.

Potlatch Dancers

If you find yourself with ample time and interest, the entirety of the Indian Act is available to read online.

Aligning the Indian Act with Coleman’s argument about the project of white civility, I do think the act supports his findings. The understanding which I gather from Coleman’s work is that Canadian whiteness stems from that of repeated literary personifications of the Canadian nation – a fictitious account in sorts, disregarding the actual foundations upon which the nation was built and founded. The concept of the Indian Act was to assimilate the First Nations culture with that of the rest of the nation (those “founders” which arrived well after the First Nations). As I spoke about regarding potlatches, the thought behind making these illegal was to ensure that the economic system by which the nation functioned was a private property system, not the group and shared wealth that First Nations cultures supported. Case in point – “they” wanted the First Nations culture to be merged with theirs to create one system, disregarding completely the history and traditions long established.

The residential school system is another prime example of this assimilation. Tens of thousands of First Nations children were forced into white school, taught differing religions, language, and traditions than that of their culture. This image was that of the “true Canadian”, projected, as Coleman discusses, through literature and accepted as the truth. The entire ordeal makes me extremely uncomfortable and truly sad. Although Prime Minister Harper has offered apologies and small financial compensation, it has done little to mend the destruction. A destruction of lost traditions, heritage, and culture, and can never truly be brought back.

Thank you for reading,

Gillian

Works Cited

Hanson, Eric. “The Indian Act”. UBC Indigenous Foundations. 2009. Web. <http://indigenousfoundations.arts.ubc.ca/home/government-policy/the-indian-act.html>

Montpetit, Isabelle. “Background: The Indian Act”. CBC  News Canada. 2001. Web. <http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/background-the-indian-act-1.1056988>

“Indian Act”. The Canadian Encyclopedia. 2006. Web. <http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.com/en/article/indian-act/>

Paterson, Erika. “Nationalism and Literature”. ENGL 470A Canadian Studies: Canadian Literary Genres. 2014. Web. <https://blogs.ubc.ca/engl470/unit-3/lesson-3-1/>

Question 1 that Dr. Paterson presents in Lesson 2.3 challenges the students of English 470 to “See if you can discover how this oral syntax works to shape meaning for the story by shaping your reading and listening of the story.” This is in relation to the story “Coyote Makes a Deal with King of England”, in Harry Robinson’s Living by Stories. How does the oral translation of a story change, morph, add to, or take away, from a story? My ENGL 470 partner in crime, Samantha, was once again my go-to person to bounce this story off of, and the results that I took away from that experience were very interesting indeed.

After researching the importance of oral traditions in First Nation history and culture, a most interesting paradox became very obvious to me, and voiced by historians alike: Westerners, until recently and perhaps still, tend to think that a society without written history is a society without any history at all. This thought process could not, in fact, be further from the truth. I urge you to take a look at UBC’s very own Indigenous Foundations website, where in it are pages of wonderful readings and history.

A quote from Stephen J. Augustine, Hereditary Chief and Keptin of the Mi’kmaq Grand Council:

“The Elders would serve as mnemonic pegs to each other. They will be speaking individually uninterrupted in a circle one after another. When each Elder spoke they were conscious that other Elders would serve as ‘peer reviewer’ [and so] they did not delve into subject matter that would be questionable. They did joke with each other and they told stories, some true and some a bit exaggerated but in the end the result was a collective memory. This is the part which is exciting because when each Elder arrived they brought with them a piece of the knowledge puzzle. They had to reach back to the teachings of their parents, grandparents and even great-grandparents. These teachings were shared in the circle and these constituted a reconnaissance of collective memory and knowledge. In the end the Elders left with a knowledge that was built by the collectivity.”

A line from the middle of this quote jumps out at me the most. That is, “They did joke with each other and they told stories, some true and some a bit exaggerated but in the end the result was a collective memory.” Emile Durkheim noted that “societies require continuity and connection with the past to preserve social unity and cohesion.” (Britton). Although not using the term collective memory, all aspects of his notes reflect the importance of oral history, and the resulting collective memory produced from it.

In a fellow student’s blog discussing oral transmission of stories, the game of telephone was brought up in relation to how stories often morph dramatically through repetitive telling and re-telling. I was in strong agreement when reading this, as for anyone that has played the game of telephone knows that the word “car” can somehow become “monster” by the time it makes it from mouth to ear around the circle. Interestingly, the oral-based knowledge that is predominant among First Nations “must be told carefully and accurately, often by a designated person who is recognized as holding this knowledge.” Eric Hanson explains that the passing one of stories that may be told only during certain seasons, or in specific places, from generation to generation “keeps the social order intact” (UBC Indigenous Foundations). Because such stories are often integral in teaching lessons about culture, land, or environment, the person telling the stories “is responsible for keeping the knowledge and eventually passing it on in order to preserve the historical record.” Therefore, the oral telling of a story does not so much allow for large exaggerations or dramatic changes to the facts, but instead allows for a platform of education, passed down knowledge, and awareness of one’s culture and history.

Now, to Robinson’s story “Coyote Makes a Deal with King of England”. Through my first reading through, silently to myself, I was honestly very, very confused. Admittedly extremely uneducated about First Nations stories and culture I found it difficult to follow the sentences on the pages, to distinguish the “he” versus “they” in relation to the characters: “And he eat right there, And then they got a fire…” Robinson (64)

Whenever I write a paper or piece of literature for a class, I ensure that I read it allowed to myself before submitting it. I have found that this helps to alleviate any grammatical errors, or sentence structures that might make sense in my head, but certainly do not make sense to read. Paralleling this experience, when I read Robinson’s story allowed, the mysteries began to become slightly clearer than during my previous reading. I found that even adding changes to the pitch of my voice, or being able to noticeably pause at appropriate times to reflect allowed me to dive into the text. Yet, I realized I had some sort of mental block to the idea that Coyote could be perceived as a man: “Looks like a coyote but it looks like a man” (69). Perhaps a childish comparison, but this reminds me of “Little Red Riding Hood”, where the wolf dresses up as the grandmother to trick Little Red Riding Hood. (Looking back at the story this makes no sense, but neither do most childhood stories and tales). The point of this comparison is the mental block that one character could, in fact, be perceived as different versions of themselves, without the intent of evil or the elaborate description of the clothing put on to create the character. Instead, Coyote was simply seen as man.

“Oh! Grandmother, what big ears you have!”

The last stage of this experiment was to read the story to Samantha, and have her read it to me. For those of you who haven’t met this wonderful young woman, she has the ability to add… “pizzaz” if you will, to any situation. Therefore, reading it to her I found I was slightly timid because I was still failing to thoroughly grasp the entire story. Yet, Samantha read the story and although she way not have understood it thoroughly either, it was the oral syntax that she applied to it – the language used, the tones of voice, the pauses, and elaboration of certain parts that made the story what it was to listen to.

I hold true to the idea that having the ability to tell a story, both entertaining and engaging, is a gift. Even if one does not fully understand the significance or meaning of the story, sharing in the oral creating or telling of a story is a rewarding experience. For those that have not read “Coyote Makes a Deal with King of England”, I encourage you to follow the guidelines presented in Question 1 and see how each step changes your interpretation and understanding of it.

Thank you for reading!

Gillian

Works Cited

Britton, Dee. “What is Collective Memory?” Web. <http://memorialworlds.com/what-is-collective-memory/>.

Hanson, Eric. “Oral Traditions.” Indigenous Foundations. Web. <http://indigenousfoundations.arts.ubc.ca/home/culture/oral-traditions.html>. 2009.

Robinson, Harry. “Coyote Makes a Deal with the King Of England.” Living by Stories: a Journey of Landscape and Memory. Ed. Wendy Wickwire. Vancouver: Talonbooks, 2005. 64-85.

I am going to attempt to navigate and answer question number 3 that Professor Paterson put forth in this post. This inquiry calls into question the validity of Lutz’ assumption regarding the heritage of his readers – that they either belong to the “European tradition, or he is assuming that it is more difficult for a European to understand Indigenous performances”. Both pieces written by Lutz, First Contact as a Spiritual Performance: Aboriginal — Non-Aboriginal Encounters on the North American West Coast, and Contact Over and Over Again relate the first encounters, first meetings, whether purposeful or by chance, between “native and stranger” (30).

Contact Over and Over Again immediately establishes the narrative of “us and them”, a theme that we have discussed in the context of J. Edward Chamberlain’s If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories? When analyzing Lutz’ writing of the first encounter of Indigenous people and the Spanish and British in the Eighteenth Century, the tale is set up in such a way to be told from the perspective of the all mighty, superior “us”, or those belonging to the European tradition. Please take this with a grain of salt, as I do mean it quite sarcastically. The excerpt below speaks directly to the “us and them” dichotomy, coming from the perspective of the Spanish pilot, Martinez:

“I asked them a thousand questions [by signs], all having to do with whether we could cast anchor, but they did not understand me, and their replies were to say that they had plenty to eat and drink if we would come ashore.” (30-31).

This excerpt establishes wonderful groundwork for what this blog is examining: is Lutz’ assumption that “One of the most obvious difficulties is comprehending the performances of the Indigenous participants” (32). Is this a fair assumption? My simple answer is no, but please allow me to explain.

This assumption, as put forth by Lutz, entails a few difficulties that I struggle to agree with. First, as stated above, the assumption itself comes from the stance that those from the European tradition were immediately superior to those of the Indigenous tradition – they cannot understand us, but we, of course, can understand them. Wherein this situation is the story from the Indigenous people’s perspective? Perhaps their performances were exemplifying particularly what they intended, and were perceived incorrectly by the strangers. Professor Paterson is being fair when pointing to this assumption, as it appears clearly in Lutz’ work, but it is Lutz’ assumption itself that stumps me.

It challenges me that Lutz discusses the “necessity [to] enter into a world that is distant in time and alien in culture” in order to perceive Indigenous performances. Why? Because from both perspectives, that of the Indigenous peoples and the Europeans, the traditions and culture that they come into contact with are alien cultures. “Both peoples sought to minimize and danger and maximize opportunities. Without a common language, both did so by performing for the other” (30). Lacking means of verbal communication that could be mutually understood, both parties relied on the use of physical performances, yet for no reason should the Europeans performances be categorized as being easier to interpret. The Indigenous peoples would be entering just as much of a strange, unknown culture with the intention to communicate as the Europeans, no? Here is a funny video about the mishaps of communication that is misunderstood, and the performance that ensues.

The idea of superiority of one race over the other brings me to another point of focus, of which Professor Paterson discussed in her weekly blog post: Residential Schools. In the 19th Century the Canadian government “believed it was responsible for educating and caring for aboriginal people in Canada” (CBC). The thought was to force adoption of the english language, as well as Christian and Canadian customs in order to provide the best chance of success. These values would then ideally be passed onto that generations children, and begin the “success” (HUGE quotation marks) of completely abolishing a few generations. “In all, about 150,000 First Nation, Inuit and Métis children were removed from their communities and forced to attend the schools” (CBC). This air of superiority, or the need to “better” the lives of others who hold different cultures, traditions, language, and customs, plays again into the “us and them” dichotomy, in that we have to better the lives of them because they are the ones that are different.

In conclusion, I feel Professor Paterson is spot on to dissect Lutz’ assumption from his work in Contact Over and Over Again. But, I struggle to maintain the same assumption as Lutz. In this, the works perspective appears very one sided, but perhaps that’s the only way to tell such a story of first contact. All first contact stories would vary extremely from one parties perspective versus the other’s, and I would be intrigued to hear of the same meeting from a different side.

Works Cited 

CBC News. “A history of residential schools in Canada.” CBC News. 2008. <http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/a-history-of-residential-schools-in-canada-1.702280>.

Lutz, John. “Contact Over and Over Again.” Myth and Memory: Rethinking Stories of Indignenous- European Contact. Ed. Lutz. Vancouver: U of British Columbia P, 2007. 1-15. Print.

The idea and conception of home that I hold is very near and dear to my heart, and I therefore have so thoroughly enjoyed reading through our classes blog’s regarding this topic. The threads have provided interesting insight and sneak peeks into each other’s home, families, traditions, and ideas.

A quote from Jessica Bernoe’s blog really jumped out at me: “Home to me is the physical place and the mental space of comfort”. Both parts of that sentence ring true for me, and also seem to ring true for classmates. Home is not necessarily where you spend the most time, it is not always the place your family is, or your friends, or your childhood pet. Home is the physical space in which you are at comfort.

For others, home is where your family is.

Where there is love.

Where there are memories of the past, and plans for the future.

Where there is comfort in familiarity – be it objects, people, places, views, stores, or food (as Chris Cheung beautifully wrote about in his blog).

Emotional attachement.

Safety.

Comfort.

Ease.

And for others, home is not something that is “pinpoint-able”. It appears that most of my classmates are lucky enough to have a concrete sense of home, in a sense that when asked where or what home is, we can construct an answer with at least a semi-definitive meaning. But home does not have to be a single place, a single building, or a single memory. Home can be where one feels they belong. Take the children at the International school in Singapore featured in Greta Anne Craig’s blog – within the walls of that classroom, the children felt a sense of belonging, a sense of comfort in the surroundings, despite perhaps not having a place to easily call home.

Our backyard, looking out over a Georgian Bay sunset

Home. That word automatically transports me East to Ontario, to a small rural community three hours North, North-West of Toronto. Home takes me to the physical house that I was lucky enough to be born and raised in (well, not actually born in, but you know what I mean). Home is waking up in my bedroom, sleepily finding my way across the hallway to my sisters room, and waking her up only to talk about all of the delicious food we are going to eat that day.

Home has always been the calm in the centre of my hectic yet amusing life. Starting in grade 7, I was often away for up to a month at a time to travel to ski competitions around North America. At the end of the trips was always the enjoyment of returning home, thrilled to not live out of suitcase and actually have ample clean clothing (thanks to my Mother’s amazing laundry skills). As I mentioned in me previous blog posts, I have lived a bit of a gypsy traveling life since graduating high school. The only constant throughout that time was the idea of home. I knew my parents would always be there, and I could always get a piece of home by dialling the familiar phone number engrained in my head – no matter where in the world I found myself.

Perhaps if I had moved around as a child the idea of home would not be so concrete in my head. I have lived in Vancouver for three years now, yet I still do not consider it home. At Christmas, I always say I am going “home”. And after the holidays, it is always “back to school”. As time passes, yes I get more and more comfortable with this city, and enjoy the opportunities that school presents, but I continuously see an end point to my time here. In my mind, there is always the time that I will return home. Unless, of course, I somehow find a wonderful, high paying job after (hopefully) graduating with an Arts degree and can somehow continue to afford living in this beautiful, yet painfully expensive city.

The always photogenic Vancouver, my home away from home

The best Vancouver family a girl could ask for

I have such a tie to the association of my physical house being my home, that I think it will always be home in some sense. Inevitably, my parents will one day downsize to a smaller house, as having room more six is no longer very applicable. When this happens, I I feel that home will change in the sense that home will become my house of the past, and home will become wherever my parents are. I guess that’s more the point – home is where my parents are. Home is where I am lucky enough to know I will always be welcomed with open arms, a bed to sleep in, and food on the table. Hence the name of this blog – there is ALWAYS a full fridge at home, stuffed full of the most delectable food and wine. Compared to my student fridge of hot sauce and pickles, a full fridge is a divine luxury upon returning home.

In addition, home always brings the sense of reuniting with family. As my brothers and sister and I are spread between Vancouver, New York, Halifax, and Dublin, that small town in rural Southern Ontario has transformed from the everyday norm, to a place where we get to see one another after months apart. Last summer the four kids overlapped time at home for a total of 36 hours – just long enough to ring in our Mom’s 60th birthday before jetting off to different parts of the world again. I believe all of us have this sense of home now, that it is a place to touch down, collect ourselves, visit, share, and laugh before parting ways again.

The “touchdown” visit for our Mom’s birthday celebrations – from the left, my siblings Andrew, Kyle, and Reba

Everyone has a different perspective of what home means to them. I realize that I am very lucky to have a concrete idea of home, as many individuals never get the opportunity to know exactly what home is. Undoubtedly, my idea of home will shift and alter as I grow. If I have a family of my own one day, that will become home, and I hope that I can allow my children to establish the sense of comfort, safety, and excitement that I still get with the idea of going home.

My wonderful parents, who have always made our house a home

Thank you for reading, and I look forward to learning of everyone’s different stories of what home means to you.

Long, long ago a terrible tragedy came upon the earth as we know it today. This tragedy, so great, proves inescapable from any man, woman, child, mutant, animal, or even the seemingly harmless baby. What is this you ask? Well my friends, this epic tragedy is … EVIL.

Let’s begin at, well, the beginning. Indeed a great place to start. In a cafe not far from where you are sitting right at this very minute, two harrowingly hideous witches met to discuss, no, rather dispute, who could create the absolutely scariest thing ever. Not just the scariest thing they had seen, but legitimately the scariest thing in the WHOLE world.  (Samantha, do not take the witch description personally, it is of course simply a creative element to the story).

These witches, so scary that they were, grumbled and garbled over who was scarier while sipping their $5 non-fat triple foam extra hot lattes. Gillian, being naturally too competitive, decided she simply had to win. She absolutely had to create the scariest, most horrifying thing ever known to mankind. Gillian allowed Samantha to brew and boil her “scary” mixes of witchcraft while she sat back and watched the spectacle unfold before her.

Just you wait, Gillian thought. I’ve got this. “Listen and learn Madame Samantha. I have something so terrifyingly traitorous that you will never be able to forget it. EVER.” Gillian went on to tell Samantha a story. Oh wow, you say, a story. So not scary. Your average story may not be so scary, but this story is different. This is a story of horrendous measures. This story is of insane credit card dept due to over spending at the most fabulous clothing stores in the world, of the pressures of having to always have the latest iPhone, of having to get spray tans in the midst of the cold winter months, despite having no money in one’s bank account.

To those who are reading this and quite likely rolling your eyes, or staring at the screen with utter confusion, I urge you to read on.

The moment this story of treachery crossed Gillian’s lips, Samantha gasped in desperation for the story to stop. She did not want to hear anymore! Enough is enough she cried!

Gillian slammed down her empty non-recyclable coffee cup and jumped up from the table, cackling an evil witch cackle as she ran out of the cafe. Little did Samantha know, as soon as the story of evil was expelled from Gillian’s mind it could NEVER be taken back. Ever. This tale of evil would forever roam to the very edges of the world, grasping the innocent minds of everyone it crossed.

The end. (The witches lived no so happily ever after, constantly in shopping debt).

I would assume that most of you are again staring at your computer screen shaking your head at the fact that I made the story of evil entering the world about shopping and expensive lattes. For me, these are my evils as I have a credit card bill that never seems to get any smaller. In fact, it is growing at an impressively fast rate. I may not have mastered the art of storytelling, but I do not see that as a negative point. It was both humorous and eye opening to exchange stories with the wonderful Samantha Ellis and personalize them with our own points and ideas. We may not have succeeded in producing the scariest witches ever, but I must say that our cartoon animations are pretty darn good.

Thank you for reading!

Gillian

In a simple non-academic online dictionary search of  the word “words” (see what I did there?), words are defined as “a unit of language, consisting of one or more spoken sounds or their written representation, that functions as a principal carrier of meaning” (dictionary.com). The definition continues to break down the idea of words into units and phonological distinguishing features . Sounds pretty good, yes. In fact, that sounds seemingly straightforward. There is it then – the “world of words” that Chamberlain enters into in “If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories”, is summed up in one sentence. Well, not quite. This is a label, yes, and does very little to achieve something of a definition remotely close to Chamberlain’s explorations. How can you quantify something as tangible yet intangible as words themselves.

Words can kill – in the heart breaking examples of bullying. Words can change someone’s life forever in one simple sentence: “Will you marry me”, or “it’s a boy”. Words can and do provide the platform to navigate through life, to communicate, express, inform, exchange knowledge, bicker, fight, or hurt. We are surrounded by literary stimulation, whether on roadside signs, ingredient labels on food, song lyrics, or an actual book – words are often the only thing getting us from point A to point B, and onwards.

My grade 12 English class was assigned the task of walking from our high school to the elementary school next door and aiding a group of grade 4 students to write a story. Any story. No guidelines, no limits. I was in charge of two boys and within seconds of asking what we wanted our story to be about, a hand shot up in the air and yelled something along the lines of “a gloobery globbery green monster who eats people!”. Superb. Over the course of five weekly visits to the class, including negotiations and numerous edits, I am proud to say that we did manage to craft an illustrated and bound first edition of “The Super Six and the Grey Blob”. A small excerpt:

“Inside the castle, Incognito unlocked the door and freed Awesomess. They ran downstairs and joined the battle. Thinking of where Fire Boy could be located, Phyneaus then noticed that he was trapped in a crystal tomb. He further used his psychic powers to widen the inside of the tomb, allowing Fire Boy to use a burst of fire to break out. In doing so, Fire Boy used too much power and he was drained of any power for 15 minutes. After this time passed and Fire Boy had regained his power, all the members ganged up on the Grey Blob and were about to use their Super Six Mega Blow when suddenly the Grey Blob disappeared into thin air!!! They looked around for where he could have gone, but all they heard was his voice yell, “I’ll get you next time Super Six!” United at last, the Super Six returned home, for now….” Our illustrations looked a little something like this:

Words provide an endless path into both the imaginary and the real. To the boys with whom I wrote this story, this was their perfect imaginary world, and words allowed them to craft it into something tangible, readable, and let them share their world with fellow students, teachers, and family. The power of that! Chamberlain frames the world of words in his childhood memories of learning to read and write, of grasping the concept that we learn the “word’s the thing and that it is not the thing” (132). With this power, words do make us feel closer to the world we live in. “Stories give meaning and value to the places we call home; how they bring us close to the world we live in by taking us into a world of words; how they hold us together and at the same time keep us apart” (1). Words allow thorough expression of world we live in. To say a flower is beautiful gives that flower meaning. To say a flower is a flower gives it meaning. We develop comfort in the steadfastness of words, that they will always be here to give meaning to our life, to the world, and all that is around us.

Chamberlain comments on the feeling that we live in the stories and songs of popular culture, in “the secular and sacred myths that shape everything from our racial and national identities to our moral and spiritual responsibilities” (122). As the rampant growth of importance placed on social media presence and personalities continues to grow, as a culture we do appear to be caught in the need to showcase our life through tweets and Facebook status’ (some people more than others, of course). I have caught myself on multiple occasions in the middle of an adventure or task, and literally thinking “I cannot wait to Instagram this and send it to Twitter and Facebook”, a caption to go along with the picture carefully thought out well in advance. Weird? Yes. But perhaps not a negative thing. Social media allows us to share our words, for both the good and bad. Our words become accessible through a generic Google search, and within seconds can provide a peek into the life of an underpaid Chinese factory worker while sitting in the comfort of our home. As stated on most student blogs for this course, sharing our words in the realm of cyber space allows for the exchange of knowledge and thoughts from Whitehorse to Toronto.

If this post does nothing else, it at least adds a reinforcing meaning of further confusion and truth to Chamberlain’s idea that words are “Confusing . . . and clear as a bell” (119).

Works Cited:

Dictionary.com. “Words”. <http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/words?s=t>. 2014.

Faure, Gaelle. “The Barbie blues: Workers describe ‘awful’ conditions at Mattel suppliers”. The Observers. <http://observers.france24.com/content/20131025-worker-conditions-mattel-suppliers-china>. 2013.

Grau, Deborah & Rybak, Judy. “Bullying: Words Can Kill”. CBS News. <http://www.cbsnews.com/news/bullying-words-can-kill/>. 2013.