Well, there was definitely a practical dimension. How, as a newly qualified teacher, I was eager to have my own class -- an opportunity to develop rapport with students, to plan and implement my own lessons, and to feel like I had a place in a school as opposed to the transient feeling that I had drifting from school to school as a teacher on call. I know many teachers enjoy the unpredictability of teaching on call. Also, how when you come home at the end of the day you can turn off: no marking, no worrying about Johnny or Marsha. But not me. I yearned for more connection. Even to worry -- about students, about lessons, about marking -- because at least I would feel that I had some responsibility and impact on those around me. The three year estimate before having a chance at a full-time position if I stayed in Victoria BC became less and less appealing.
There was also the personal dimension of the decision. Seven months earlier, I made the decision to end a serious relationship. A year and a half ago I had made a cross country move from Kingston ON to Victoria BC because I was madly, undeniably in love and was convinced that I had found my life partner. We were together for three years altogether and the realization that sometimes love is not always enough was hard lesson to swallow, let alone digest. And so starting somewhere new, somewhere unknown, as an independent woman following one of my great passions -- teaching -- called to me.
Finally, and perhaps most importantly there was the political dimension. Canada prides itself on being a cultural mosaic, yet we have a long way to go before we can claim that we are accepting of all differences. The history of our country is deeply racist -- a fact that many of us prefer to overshadow by saying that we have changed. And our national denial and downplaying of racism is, in fact, racist. Stephen Harper apologized to First Nations, Inuit & Métis peoples in 2008 for residential schools. Why can't Indigenous people just 'get over it'? I have heard many people ask. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau has started a nation-wide inquiry into the hundreds of missing and murdered Indigenous women out there. That's progress, right? A lot of people believe we are doing all we can. I agree that we seem to be doing a lot more than before, but that is not an excuse for us to become complacent and not confront the fact that there are many wrongs that have not been righted. That stereotypical and singular understandings of First Peoples are the only understanding that many Canadians possess. Furthermore, starting an inquiry into murdered and missing Indigenous women is not proof so much of 'how far we have come'. Rather, it is proof that there remains insidious hatred -- and willful ignorance -- towards Indigenous people (also women) in our country.
One detail that I learned through my process of applying to this job is that many schools in Indigenous communities do not have high schools that go past Grade 10. I was shocked by this. What's more I was saddened that many people probably don't know this. Most people probably don't know that many Indigenous students need to relocate to a city, away from family and friends, to graduate high school. For a country that boasts its ability to educate, and the right of all to access education, the reality that First Nations, Métis and Inuit teenagers living in remote communities would need to relocate away from their families to finish high school seems shameful. Because I believe that education is a tool for empowerment and social change, I felt intrigued and compelled, albeit scared and unqualified to teach in this setting.
As a queer woman, I also wondered what sorts of LGBTQ* communities young people would have access to in these northern contexts. Research that I have done over the past year has told me that in comparison to other provinces, Ontario and generally speaking northern communities across the country have the highest reported rates of LGBTQ*-negative talk in schools (Taylor et al, 2015, p. 53). But I wondered to myself: how would Two-Spirit, LGBTQ* people and issues be received in this First Nations community? I remain unsure about this, but in either case, I know that I will be entering this teacher position from a place of humility and learning. I see myself as an ally, and do not enter this job with the belief that I will be 'saving' students. They will be teaching me, just as much as I, them. And I will be entering this community from a place of listening first.
So on that note, here are my big learning goals for this teaching experience:
- Listen to and learn from the community (from my students, from their families, from other teachers)
- Learn Oji-Cree and about traditional stories and practices
- Learn more about different Indigenous communities in Canada
- Develop a stronger understanding of what the community wants from my presence and how to be a good ally according to their needs
- Learn more about land-based pedagogies
- Learn how to respectfully integrate Indigenous content and knowledge into my teaching practice without inadvertently appropriating it
These are just a few goals I have for now. My heart still knocks around my chest, and there is lot I have left to learn to be an ally and effective teacher in this context, but I have these moments every once and a while where it calms and I remember with such comforting clarity just how lucky I am to go somewhere I have never been before, to teach young people, and to learn from them and their community.
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Taylor, C., Peter, T., Campbell, C., Meyer, E., Ristock., J., Short, D. (2015). In Egale Canada Human Rights Trust (Eds.), Every Teacher Project: Final Report on LGBTQ-Inclusive Education in Canada’s K-12 schools. Winnipeg, MB: The Manitoba Teachers’ Society.
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