HOME

Takwakin (Autumn or Fall) is the time of year that my family and I usually make our annual visit to Saskatchewan. However, this year we decided to stay home on the coast. Taking my boys back to where I come from is always a time that I look forward to. I want them to see, smell and hear the sounds of the places that form my earliest memories. I want them to feel the warm sun on their faces as they gaze at the endless prairie sky. I want my boys to remember where their ancestors came from. To see the place of the stories of the rougarou and the Virgin Mary. I want my boys to play in the same leaf filled ditches that my sisters, cousins and I did. To smell the freshly cut wheat, barley and canola. To taste fresh lake fish caught by my grandfather. I want my boys to know those connections. I want us to feel those experiences in our bones, to remember the changes of the season.

For a long time I lived a life where I was torn between my home in Saskatchewan and my home on the coast. I struggled with how to teach our children about where our ancestors came from when we live so far away. Over the years we have even discussed the idea of moving closer to our ancestral territories. We exchange romantic ideas on learning Cree, harvesting from the land, getting a horse or two, maybe some chickens and driving off into the sunset. Then we would wake from that dream and look around at the life that we have built for ourselves on the west coast. We love it here and will probably never move back to Saskatchewan. And that is okay.

More than half of my life has been spent on the west coast. Where we live now on Cormorant Island, traditional territories of the Kwakwaka’wakw, is where my children call home. My youngest has no memory of living anywhere else. Community members have welcomed me, this lost halfbreed from Saskatchewan, and my family into their lives. We are forming friendships here that will last lifetimes. We laugh, we cry and we laugh again. Our stories weave together into a new narrative. It is this connection that makes me feel at home. All these years later, I have finally learned that home doesn’t need to be tied to a specific space and place. Home can change, like the seasons. So, I guess that I must not be lost anymore. I’ve always been home.

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The waters east of Alert Bay. (BC)

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The waters of Northern Saskatchewan. (SK)

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Alert Bay playground. (BC)

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My eldest son takes a break while we visit my cousin on his farm. (SK)

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My youngest looking at all the eulachon inside the smokehouse. (BC)

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My eldest walking into the barn as my grandfather walks out of the barn. (SK)

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My boys and their friends playing in our backyard. (BC)

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My son and his cousin playing around the same slough I played around with my cousins. (SK)

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Ziplock bag, eagle feather, tarp and a black bear. (BC)

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Truck, chairs, velvet paintings and a moose antler rack. (SK)

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The next generation getting to know each other. (BC)

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My father locking the gates after paying our respects to our ancestors at the Green Lake cemetery. (SK)

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Gukwdzi (Big House) in Alert Bay. (BC)

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Visiting Wanuskewin Heritage Park that sits above Opimihaw Creek and the South Saskatchewan River. (SK)

-Amanda Laliberte

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2 thoughts on “HOME

  1. Although I now reside in a state which is close to the lifestyles expressed in your photos, I am currently visiting one of my favorite cities, New York. Certainly the world surrounding New Yorkers and other great cities is vastly different. We need to cling to the attitudes conveyed in your description and photos. Difficult yes, impossible no, but absolutely essential. Thank you for some wonderful moments.

    Like

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