Epilogue

When I finished teachers' college, I did not have an answer to the "what next?" question. Obviously, I knew that I wanted to teach, but I didn't know where. Should I stay in Toronto? (Could I afford to?) Branch out into the GTA? Maybe a move to Kitchener or London or some other southwestern Ontario town was in the works. I half heartedly applied to boards in the GTA and in Toronto but no one was biting. Despite rumours of a "teacher shortage" in Ontario (which was a total myth), most of my peers in teachers' college were in the same boat. Many of us had not been called for interviews, and quite a few of my classmates had taken positions in other countries.

Anyhow, I decided to move back in with my parents until I found something concrete. I began applying to some jobs on larks. I applied to a non-convential job on a whim; it was at an internet-based secondary school in a remote community in Northwestern Ontario. At the time, my pal Sandee was teaching in Northern Quebec and I figured that if she could handle it, maybe I could too.

Well, I actually got a call from the principal for this job and I was offered it because they really needed a math/science teacher. I had about a week to make up my mind and then a week to get packed up and go. It sounded like an adventure, and I felt I was in need of an adventure in my life, plus the pay was good. I consulted some friends, including Sandee, and my family and I decided why not, it'll only be for a year.

So, for 10 months of 2003/2004 I live in a small aborginal community in Northwestern Ontario. You could only reach the community by plane. Well, except for in a few months in the winter, when there was an ice road that connected the community to the nearest town. My experience there was a total challenge. It was a complete eye-opener. Conditions in communities like this are not good; poverty, unemployment, addiction, depression, violence, and sickness are just some of the problems that plagued the community. Many large families are packed in small houses. It's amazing that conditions like this are present in Canada. It's like a totally different world.

Even though it was hard, and completely eye-opening, I met some great people while I was there and was amazed by the strength of many of the community members. I learned a lot during those 8 months and I've learned not to take so much for granted. I taught 15 year olds who had been through more sorrow and hardships in their short lives than I could imagine going through in my entire life.

Anyhow, the reason why I'm talking about this today is because I called one of the teachers I worked with today to chat and see how she is doing. She is on her third year teaching in the community and I enjoy getting updates from her. Plus, I developed a bond with two of the teachers who were up there at the same time as I was (there were 4 of us in total - one was a nutjob), and it's important for me to keep in touch.

I got all of the updates from her today and there really wasn't too much good news. After the converstaion, I almost felt like my 8 months there was a book and what she told me today was like an epilogue, or like the screen that comes on after a movie telling you what happened to the characters after the story was finished.

I found out that the only student who stayed in my class for the entire school year had a baby in January. She'll be 18 this month. I wonder now if she'll even meet her goal of graduating high school... Her younger sister had a baby the next month. Their father had remarked to my friend "those girls really don't know much about being mothers."

There was a woman who was an assistant in my friend's classroom. During the time I was in the community, she left her abusive boyfriend, who was then kicked out of the community. The following year she moved to the city. I asked how she was doing and apparently she's back with the boyfriend and they are both drinking again. So are her two oldest sons, one who is 19 and the other would be in grade 9 now.

One of the staff members at the computer centre next door to me was about my age. He'd never had problems with alcohol but decided to take up drinking this year. The computer centre is now closed because the manager has left the community. I'm sure he would have been capable of the job, but they won't hire him until he quits.

There were some people who were still doing okay, so it wasn't all bad news. But those three cases have brought me down a bit. Today I have the familiar weight on my shoulders that I felt a lot during my time in that community. There are so many problems facing Aboriginal Canadians in communities like the one I taught in, and it's hard to say what should be done. All I know is that I'm far more aware of the reality than I used to be and I have a personal connection to the reality. Maybe if the rest of Canada was connected the problem, more could be done.

Some nights I have a hard time falling asleep thinking about what I left. Sometime it's because I'm laughing hard about some experiences (like sinking into snow that was hip deep, sinking into mud that was hip deep, bribing the school janitor with cigarettes to pick up literacy tests at the airport for me, riding around with my friend the policewoman "fighting crime" at 1 am) and other times because I'm haunted by them.