Red Cedar

Yesterday I posted an open letter about the failures of reconciliation in Canada that left me feeling vulnerable because I was using my voice as a civil service worker and union leader in a really public way – something I don’t normally do. The original draft of the letter was very angry, but I toned it down in the final version to increase its accuracy and also the reception of it. I was talking online with my friend Sharai about it afterwards and she said, “I think anger is great for the fuel to get things started. To get the fire lit, so to speak. Then it’s important to get the flames under control so they don’t scorch everything around it and it keeps us warm and secure.” Which is a brilliant way of thinking about it if you ask me.

On Facebook and other social media I don’t do a lot of “hell ya” petition sharing or public outrage. Occasionally it creeps in, but as a street-protester/community organizer from way back, it feels too easy to click and share – too performative over anything substantive. A click and share takes up our attention, but not our time. It demonstrates that we care, but not enough to put our bodies in the way. Of course some people do both! But since I’m doing less of the latter these days (my volunteer time being focused on advocacy through my union position) I am acutely aware of the hollow feeling of click/share activism.

Although a public letter is only one step above clicktivism, yesterday was an exception to my general position on performative action. Following the news of the Kamloops Residential School gravesite, the fact that the Government continues to fight claims of cultural genocide in court, and the lip-service being paid to reconciliation, I figured it was time to at least add my voice, a voice that represents a few hundred people, to the growing chorus of shame at the lack of government action on reparations. I didn’t write that letter because I thought anyone in the government would care much. I know how letters to ministers get answered (by people like me who have a block of key messages to draw from). But I hoped that in doing so, I would encourage other non-Indigenous folks to at least take a moment to think about what decolonization means, and to write a letter of their own. One letter isn’t listened to, but tens of thousands are.

Although I felt some discomfort about posting the letter, it went away as soon as I had done it and realized that there was no risk to speaking my mind at all. I’m not sure what form I imagined that risk would take, but all shadows of it evaporated after I had posted online. Since then it’s been shared by my union, and a number of friends all over the place – so apparently it did strike a chord with some people, as momentary a gesture as it might be. It seems insignificant in the face of the terrible colonial legacy in Canada, but even worse to say nothing at all.

The California lilacs in and around my yard are in full bloom and buzzing with bees from five in the morning until 9 at night. A sure sign of summer on the horizon even it looks like June-uary might about to roll in for a bit.

These last couple of weeks have been very textile-y as I got my outdoor dye studio set-up last weekend, wove fabric for four tea towels off my loom, and put together a belated Mother’s Day gift (I’m seeing my mom for the first time since February this weekend). I’ve also decided to create my own “Summer Textile School” out of Sweet Georgia and Jane Stafford courses – and scheduled Mondays off work in July and August to bring some focus to advancing my learning this summer. There will be much weaving, dyeing, and probably even some sewing as I allow myself more time and space in the studio over the next sixteen weeks.

Last Friday was a Comfort for the Apocalypse drop and marked issue #20! That is 20 mini-essays and 20 recipes, not to mention all the other bits and pieces I include in the newsletter. Though I keep feeling the pull of a longer/larger writing project, it seems that all I can sustain at the moment is short pieces – so I’m going to keep working on those as I stick with the monthly email and the blog.

Despite not feeling quite ready for the post-vaccination shift, we are starting to open things up around here and will be hosting our first house concert (outside, in the yard) near the end of June. I sent out notification about it today, and have already had quite a bit of response on the RSVPs, which tells me that there is a lot of interest in getting out and about safely in my community. I am hopeful our vax rates will continue to go up as more young people are eligible, and have started hearing about local folks getting their second shots in the next couple of weeks — according to the BC health app we should be eligible for ours by the end of the month!

Despite the re-opening, we intend to spend our summer really close to home because this is our favourite time to be here. In addition to being around for Summer Textile School, we will be hosting house concerts and our annual long weekend party (within all local health authority parameters), and I hope to get out on the water lots and make day trips to see family and friends on the big island. I have one trip away with a friend – to Cortes – which will be a nice scenery break. In the fall Brian and I have a plan to go to Saturna, and we will do some kind of outdoor trip with friends in early September. Our world has gotten a lot closer in the last year and I am perfectly fine with that continuing on, but a few more social occasions are welcome.

The last few days have been pretty warm, making me realize that I might not really be up for running in the summertime afternoons. I’m either going to have to run first thing in the morning, or switch over to more weight lifting, especially if the summer turns out to be hot and smoky as it winds on. For the next couple of weeks I am going to try adding one more strength-training day, with some interspersed cardio to see how that feels – running on dusty roads and trails wasn’t really doing it for me this week. The strength program I follow just switched training block focus and I am feeling really strong in my power lifts again. This summer might be a good time to start pushing those numbers upward again. I am going to start going to the gym one day per week again, just to get access to some of the equipment we don’t have at home.

This weekend we are heading down island to see parents, brother, niece and nephew for the first time since February – which feels like a ridiculously big deal after so many months. I’ve got gifts and baking all ready to go, and tomorrow morning we will be off for an overnight with some errands sandwiched in between the visits. Perhaps this will give me more to write about next week as I am fresh out of new insights this afternoon!

Yesterday I received an invitation to a June 2022 wedding in New York, one that was delayed due to the pandemic and is now rescheduled. Though I knew it was coming (my friend had told me on a phone call), it still felt shocking, and I couldn’t tell whether the tension that followed came from a place of anticipation (the novelty of a different vista!) or fear (omigod, I can’t ever get on a plane or go to the US again!) I expect it was a mix.

I clicked yes on the e-post RSVP, but I won’t make the actual decision and reservations until sometime next spring. With new variants kicking around, it still seems impossible we will ever travel further than our bioregions again. And to be honest, I wouldn’t be all that sad about it. Travel is the thing I’ve missed least in the last fourteen months, even as much as I’d like to see faraway friends and family again.