Love
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Since I have been concentrating on bettering myself life hasn’t gotten any easier, but, it has become more significant. There is meaning in a day. Not that time has become more valuable, more so that it has become a means to make the most of my life. I have forgotten what it was like to
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Up until recently I have never heard of the term inter-generational trauma. According to the University of Calgary it defines the term as the transmission of historical oppression and its negative consequences across generations. What does that mean to me as an Indigenous woman? It means the abuse that I thought was “normal” from family
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I remember the things my Nokimis and Noshimis use to say and show me as young child. At the time I did not understand what exactly it was they were trying to teach me. It seemed a bit confusing at the time as I was just a young girl. I was sent to live with
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Who am I? It took me 40 years to be able to honestly answer this question. The fact of the matter is that I never really took the time to ask myself this. I was to caught up in trying to figure out who everyone else was around me. The conditionings of my culture had
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On my home it hit me, the intergenerational trauma I feel my sisters pain and their loved ones so brave to keep making a stand year after year for our sisters spirits that are stuck between worlds. The ones who never made it home. As I stood outside in the bitter cold of this February
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Has anyone ever written anything for you? Has anyone ever put their heart on a piece of paper that you can easily tear apart? This is written for you in hopes you see the beauty in your darkest hours. The words just don’t come out right with conversation. So I am writing this one for
RED ROAD KWE 