t&b collective: a quick look back

In honour of moving forward in the New Year, I’ve asked our collective to share a few words about their favourite images looking back over our past year, and if they were willing to share, what their creative goals are moving forward. 

Come February, tea&bannock will be celebrating two full years as a collective. As our lives are busy with post secondary schooling, old and new business ventures, love, friendship and family, we’ve definitely slowed down and learned to pace ourselves in this digital storytelling platform. Finding the right words and editing the images we want to share takes special space in our hearts. Breathing deep and laying our successes and stumbling blocks out into the wide open space, and trusting that our community will connect with the ideas we’re sharing – it’s powerful and humbling, and we thank you so much for being part of our lives. It’s a constant learning experience. 

Happy New Year.

I’m looking forward to what tea&bannock will be bringing to the table in 2018. 

 – tenille k campbell 


 

AmandaLalibertePhotography.jpg

“It was hard selecting my favorite photograph from 2017. It was either a picture of one of my rez dogs as a puppy, or a soon to be first time mother in regalia on a beach in Alert Bay, or my youngest son dressed as wolverine sitting next to his princess Eva (he has told me he will marry her and have five kids), or this unsettling photograph of my dad. He was diagnosed with laryngeal cancer a couple of years ago which has left him with no voice box. Last fall, I made an impromptu trip to Saskatoon to pick my dad up after being discharged from St Paul’s Hospital. He had been hospitalized for two weeks with pneumonia. My father was very ill and had this horrible smell. I’d never smelled anything quite like it and I knew it was the smell of something dying. When we said good bye, I was sure that was going to be our last hug but months later this stubborn, grumpy, mean, old man is still alive.

This summer my family and I moved back to Victoria so I could go back to school. I’ve been taking perquisite courses, such as chemistry, biology and Statistics, for the RN (Nursing) program. The pace of our life has changed drastically. Student life hasn’t left me much time to work professionally on photography. I’ve taken to shooting more of my day to day life with my iPhone and occasional grabbing the Canon 5D iii + 35L to take photos of whatever inspires me in that moment.

My art goal for 2018 is to find inspiration in this urban landscape and to continue taking photos amidst the chaos.”

Amanda Laliberte, British Columbia

 

SS9_5681_WEB.jpg

“The photo of my Jijuu in her fish house is by far my favorite image because the photograph is a true reflection of who she is. My Jijuu is hard working, she is a provider and she is so knowledgeable about our Gwich’in culture and land.

My art goal for 2018 is to create meaningful images. I want to be aware and present. I want to go to my fish net, hunting out in the mountains, and chasing the northern lights to capture all of those traditions and precious memories. I want to capture my family, especially my grandparents. I just really want to make art that matters.”

– Shayla Snowshoe, Alberta

 

C474235A-6026-4683-8DE5-F322FA2F7D80.JPG

“The photo with Alba in the bonnet is my favorite of the year. I embarked on a weekly photo project where I took portraits of myself and my daughter together. This project was so important to me because I have no photos of myself and my mom from my infancy or childhood.”

– Claudine Bull, Alberta

 

11_14_2017_25_WEB.jpg

“I was at The World’s Smallest Dessert in Carcross, YK. This is one of my recent favourites  because it represents a place I never thought I would get to go to, as well as the traditional territory of one of my newest friends, Heather Dickson. It’s a reminder that I should be more open to new people who come into my life, as you never know how they are going to change and challenge you. For me, this picture is about kinship and story.

2017 was all about new adventures and new friendships. But for 2018, my art goals consist of learning some more about Photoshop and Video Editing. I want to brush up my skills, try new things, and create more community.”

– Tenille Campbell, Saskatchewan

 

IMG_9670.jpg

“A moment to myself in a whirlwind year of travel. Taken on July 7, 2017 – Treaty 7 and traditional Blackfoot territory. My goals for my art practice this year are to take more moments for myself.”

– Joi T Arcand, Ontario

 

lylah.HR(21of23).jpg

“My fav image is of my friends baby in a bunting bag. My goal for 2018 is to make more of an effort of reaching out to other artists in the NWT to begin collaborating and creating amazing images, and hopefully gain some kick ass friendships along the way…. and to learn how to post my blogs up on the tea & bannock website by myself!”

– Shawna McLeod, Northwest Territory

 

26613679_669715111443_99445267_o.jpg

“Art Goal of 2018 – Build a stronger art community/Collective”

– Caroline Blechert, Oregon via Northwest Territory

Advertisements

Rez Baby in the Big City

Toronto, why you gotta do this me way?

It was my first “official” visit to Toronto. My first time staying in these urban lands, not just passing through to different reserves and communities. And it had been amazing, so how did I end up here – suffering from that over indulgence of alcohol and greasy foods, sitting on a black suitcase as it rolled down the street in Chinatown, with me on it, too sore to even put my foot down as a brake…?

I got a story for you.

Processed with VSCO with 7 preset

I fell in love in Toronto, for a quick minute.

I fell in love with being surrounded by people of culture. People whose language and stories swelled around us, and for once, I felt like an outsider but also an insider, safe in the confines of dragon statues and Chinese writings while staying in a hotel in Chinatown. With peddlers selling jade statues on the sidewalk, crowds around them as they hawked their wares. With watching the crowds of high school teens jostling for position on the sidewalk, loudly laughing, fearless and invincible.

I fell in love with latte’s served in tiny, impossibly white cups and homemade muffins next to a record shop that sold Polaroid film. With lazy mornings spent sipping coffee, earphones on with a Tribe Called Red, as I people watched and let the sunshine warm me through the panes of glass.

I fell in love with a restaurant that feasted with me on dim sum after I emerged from the back alleys of Chinatown, photographing dragon graffiti. With drinking Tsingtao out the bottle, convincing myself that I must really like seafood, as I accidently ordered a dish with lobster, muscles, and eel. Another drink, please.

I fell in love with a man who read the lines I had written convincingly and charmingly, as he made me believe that the White Buffalo I had wrote about was, in fact, him. And after the stage lights went down and the applause ended, I had to realize that my love was as false as the story I wrote, and he wasn’t my White Buffalo … but he would be a great short story.

IMG_4544_WEB.jpgProcessed with VSCO with 8 presetIMG_4617_WEB.jpg

I was in Toronto for the Weesageechak Begins to Dance 29 Arts Festival, put on by Native Earth Performing Arts. Andrea and I had written an Indigenous musical, throwing humour, song and dancing into one hella-funny play (I may be biased) and we were selected for a stage reading.

The actors selected to work with us were amazing and intimidating. Intimidating as in anyone that gets up and wants to perform in front of a crowd – that’s terrifying. Raw and open, not anything I could ever be. I’m thankful for them, though. Their abilities showed us what our story could be, and where we needed to work. They laughed with us, gently criticized the work when it needed, and I was thankful Andrea was there, the cooler head of us, as I react emotionally. Who knew. But really though, it was a productive learning experience, listening to them speak, seeing how accent affects intent, how indigenous language doesn’t always translate so clearly, and trying to explain Cree emphasis when you’re a Dene and a Metis. Ha.

Processed with VSCO with 7 preset

I sipped a lot of latte’s. The first night, I met up with my good friend, Roseanne. We sat in a downtown Starbucks, chatting loudly as people pushed by us and jostled for space. There was more people in that little shop then I have ever seen in all of the Starbucks of Saskatoon.

She and I though, we just get one another. In between chatting about her work and mine, Indian love poems and “moose lips” made for kissing, we laughed and clapped our hands, the loudest ones around. After a 30 minute cuppa that turned into two hours, she drove me to my friends’ house, but not before a mini-impromptu photo session somewhere downtown, in between coffee shops and parking lots.

I watched the skyline of Toronto being bathed in the golden light of sunset and laughed, frustrated. The skyline blocked out all that natural light from hitting us – so how do the Toronto photographers do this?

11_16_2016_9_web

I adventured. I walked the streets of Kensington Market and tried to decide if this was my haven, or getting too commercial. Instead, I got distracted by vintage goods, tattoo shops and a little shop called Powwow Café.

Challenge accepted.

We were seated in the tiny diner, and I chose the Original Indian Taco, while chatting up with the waitress. Turns out the cook, his Grandma was Anishnaabe, and he had learned from her. I was ready to judge the bannock – me who had eaten Indian tacos coast-to-coast, powwow-to-powwow. Eeeee boy.

And then I could not shut up, moaning out loud with every bite. Because damn. By the end of the meal, which I couldn’t even finish it was so big, I was ready to propose to him. Because bae could cook. Gotta lock that shit up.

Sidenote: It was also at this cafe that I met a reader of our blog, Angela (Hi, Angela!). She is a friend of Caroline’s from way out on the West Coast, and just so happened to be feasting there with her aunt. We started gabbing and she asked, after she caught my name, “are you tea and bannock?” Yasssssssss. I love the connections and kinships that this blog is making, so if you ever see one of us in real life, out and about, say hello. We wanna meet you!

IMG_4665_WEB.jpgProcessed with VSCO with 7 presetIMG_4688_WEB.jpg

Friday night came quickly. We were hustled into the theatre, lights were lowered and when our play was read out loud, I listened to the crowd. Who laughed and when, what jokes fell flat and who gasped at what. I smiled to myself, not even seeing just the stage and actors, but the potential of what this play could do. I made notes to myself – must learn to sing, must learn how not to be tone-deaf, must learn how to write music. Ha. I watched our characters come alive and saw a few women, besides myself, fall in love with our main man, and I saw the power of our lead female as she sang, and the crowd hushed, listening to the lyrics and message that Andrea had wrote for us.

It’s a good moment when you see your work breathe.

Processed with VSCO with 7 preset

The night ended with drinks and stories. I met Deneh’Cho Thompson and his dramaturge Lindsay Lachance, and noticed my own Dene accent getting thick and strong, like northern tea, the longer we talked. His play, “The Girl who was raised by Wolverine,” wrecked me, and seeing the directorial work of Lindsay made me dream outside my own parameters of creativity, again.

I flirted with my faux-White Buffalo and met storytellers from Australia. I shared a toast with a witty director and shared gossip with the cast from my own play reading. I met strong, powerful and creative women and my heart beat a little faster when they mentioned, “collaboration, we need to do something together.”

Yassssss.

11_18_2016_2_WEB-1.jpg

And then, it was Saturday morning. And there I was. Sick, achy. Both bemoaning Friday night and giggling about the pick up lines heard and used.

“I’ll teach you Dene.. nezuuuu…”

“You make me feel… traditional…” 

“Maybe you can teach me how to make bannock too…” 

Whaaawhaaaa. My next play is just writing itself.

Before I left the city, my Anishnaabe cousins and I stopped at two different art shows, to meet instagram friends and amazing Indigenous artists, Chief Lady Bird and Auralast.

There is nothing so awkward as introducing yourself by your instagram name:

“Hi, I’m Tenille. I’m a fan of your instagram.”

Awkward nod but friendly smile.

“Ummm … I’m sweetmoonphoto, and teaandbannock…”

BIG SMILES AND HUGS HELLO.

We chatted about art and photography, business and inspiration. More hugs and selfies. A few goods were bought (support indigenous artists!) and bannock was feasted upon.

It’s always good meeting those you admire.

Processed with VSCO with 7 preset

So, Toronto and me, well, it’s like a Tinder hookup, I think. A good time while it’s happening, but full of missteps and awkward moments when you think about it later, giggling with your friends.

Too honest? Ha.

Toronto and me, we were like a bannock made healthy with whole wheat flour. A good idea at the time, but you’ll have regrets later.

Eeeeee.

Either way, I learned my lesson. Keep to the markets and coffeeshops, and you good, Tenille. Stay away from beautiful men offering you stories and potential lines for future books.

I put on my glasses, and then my sunglasses, threw on my hoodie, and sipped Starbucks as me and my cousins drove out to the rez, back to Walpole Island for a visit.

But that’s another story.

Processed with VSCO with 7 preset

 – tenille campbell

the ocean gives and the ocean takes away

A couple of years ago I received an artist grant from the First Peoples’ Cultural Council. Initially I was going to do a documentary photo series on Indigenous women who have overcome trauma and abuse. I had to think some more about this series. About how I could show to others how strong, amazing and inspiring these women are. I had to avoid labelling these women as victims because that they are not. We are survivors. And trauma and abuse can come in many forms, so how was I going to photograph that?

alalibertephotographyfpcc-5

I decided not to do a documentary photo series because I didn’t want the images to feel like outsiders gazing into the private lives of these women. It wasn’t going to be something you’d see in a National Geographic magazine. There is enough voyeurism in the media, so I went with formal portraits, which I have to admit isn’t my strongest way to shoot. My photo classmates (such as Shawna McLeod) will remember me in not providing much direction nor guidance to the models provided for our practice. I was too quiet. Someone would tell me, you gotta tell them what to do! Ugh, the only people I am good at telling what to do is my husband, my boys and my younger sisters.

I learned that there are many similarities between formal portraiture and being a big sister.

alalibertephotographyfpcc-3

After many talks with friends and family, I decide to go in another direction with the images. I wanted to include a backdrop, a theme of sorts, that all these women share. Even though some are from the West Coast, most of us have moved away from where we are from. We have left the environment where we suffered our trauma and abuse, and have ended up on the west coast, within reach of the ocean. And so, we are all connected to these waters that heal. The tides are connected to the cycle of the moon and so are we. The ocean swells and alters the landscape and so do we. The ocean can have moments of stillness as do we. The ocean carries life and so do we. As they say in Alert Bay, the ocean gives and the ocean takes away.

alalibertephotographyfpcc-4

I started by photographing one of my mentors. She has a story to share but it wasn’t my place to share it, so I just did what I could do with my camera. I would photograph and then wait. We would cackle a bit. Then I would look at the light, her body, the ocean and continue shooting while reminding myself to give her guidance. I shot like this for most of the sessions. And in between each session I’d second guess myself and what I was doing. And wait. I do a lot of waiting and sitting on the images. I share with others my thoughts on the direction I want to take. And wait some more. I think and think and think and second guess myself again and almost give up. Pick myself back up and arrange another photo session. And just keep on shooting, talking, reading and thinking.

alalibertephotographyfpcc-2

Over the years I have had many conversation with these women, my friends, who have shared bits and pieces of their life stories with me. I am forever grateful for their willingness to be part of this series and their friendships. I have a feeling that this series will be an ongoing project. And I am very thankful to the First Peoples’ Cultural Council for supporting me and believing in me. As for the ocean, I will end with the following quote:

“Some people love the ocean. Some people fear it. I love it, hate it, fear it, respect it, resent it, cherish it, loathe it, and frequently curse it. It brings out the best in me and sometimes the worst.”

 Roz Savage

alalibertephotographyfpcc-1

-Amanda Laliberte

‘Dehcho Dene Zhatié: Indigenous Language Revitalization Program

I’m beyond thrilled to finally have a piece written up and presented to Tea and Bannock about a very special and hardworking group of Deh Cho Ladies who are involved with the ‘Dehcho Dene Zhatié: Indigenous Language Revitalization Program.

I hold this program close to my heart because firstly I saw firsthand how they have been working day and often very late nights on reclaiming their language, taking in as many Dene Zhatié words and phrases, reclaiming their space and identity as a dene person– here is a group of fearless women who are dedicated and determined to revive their mother tongue to teach their children, siblings and others who are interested. I can’t help but to feel excited and extremely proud of these ladies.

I reached out to Dahti Tsetso who is from Fort Simpson and asked if she wanted to explain who she is, why it’s important for her to attend the Indigenous Language Revitalization program and what it’s all about. Thankfully she agreed and I managed to get my mother, Joyce McLeod (who is also in the program), to send me photos to add to the blog. Thank you both (as well to the others involved) for being so brave to save such an important part of the Dene culture. I commend you for all being such trailblazers for our Dene communities!

You can find a lot of great information and videos on their facebook page called “Speak to me in Dene Zhatie.”

– shawna mcleod

{cover imageDene Zhatie Mentor Louisa Moreau teaching Joyce McLeod, Dahti Tsetso, Nicole Perron, Terri Sapp, and Leonie Sabourin Dene Zhatié phrases as they fry bannock.}

 

 

img_2702

First presentation on learning Dehcho Dene Zhatie. Everyone was required to come up with phrases and present it to the class; almost everyone was nervously shaking and scared to make mistakes.

Dahti Tsetso súzhe. Sı́ Tłıcho Dene o’tę gots’ęh Łíidlii Kų́ę́ náhnde. My name is Dahti Tsetso. I am Tłicho Dene and I live in Fort Simpson, NT. I was born here and spent my early childhood growing up by the river. I met my husband while attendıng university and am now married into the Dehcho region. The Dehcho is our home and this is where we plan to raise our family.

Practicing our Dene culture and passing the culture on to our children is very important to us. However, like so many others of our generation, neither one of us speak our Dene language. Language loss is an intergenerational impact of residential schools that has had a massive impact. The legacy of residential schools has denied almost a whole generation of Dene the ability to speak their own language. This means many of us could not communıcate with our unilingual grandparents. We could never listen to their stories, or learn our oral histories in our language. A Dene person without their language is missing a very key part of their cultural identity. And personally, it has left me feeling confused and at times disconnected from my own family and culture.

This is why learning to speak the language is such an important endeavour; for me, it has become an act of reconciliation. Learning the language empowers us to connect to our culture and elders in ways that are deeply meaningful, but it is also vital for the well being of our communities as whole. Our language is at a critical point in history. As our parents’ generation ages, the number of fluent language speakers is declining. This means that if we do not reverse this trend, we risk facing a reality that one day there will be no fluent speakers left.

Learning to speak the Dene language has been a long-held and deeply rooted goal of mine. My hope is to become fluent in the language, and to share what I learned with others. My dream is to see my children conversing in the language with their grandparents one day. I want them to learn their oral histories while immersed in the language of this land. This is why I chose to enrol in the ‘Dehcho Dene Zhatié: Indigenous Language Revitalization Program’.

img_0193

Learning nouns, verbs and incorporating into simple phrases while Cooking and sewing in Dene Zhatié- Nicole Perron, Lori Anne Bertrand and Terri Sapp learning to make muffins with Denise, Dene Zhatié Mentor.

The ‘Dehcho Dene Zhatié: Indigenous Language Revitalization Program’ is a University of Victoria post-secondary program that is being community-delivered in partnership with Dehcho First Nations, the Dehcho Divisional Education Council and the communities of Fort Providence and Fort Simpson. The goal of this language program is to create new language speakers and teachers of Dehcho Dene Zhatié.

All fluency levels was accepted into the program, so there is a wide range of language ability. From new language learners (like myself) to those whom Dene Zhatié is their first language. There are also diverse backgrounds in our program. While the majority are Dehcho Dene, I am Tlicho Dene, there is one Cree student (also married into the Dehcho region), and one very special non-Dene member.

img_2991

The DDEC board visits the Dehcho Dene Zhatié: Indigenous Language Revitalization Program’ in Fort Providence

The language program has taught each of us how to begin our own language-learning journeys, and perhaps even more importantly, it has taught us how to share what we learn with others. The program has done this by teaching us a language immersion method known as the ‘Mentor-Apprentice-Program’ (or MAP for short), and by learning language writing and literacy from highly trained language specialists from our region. Andy Norwegian and Violet Jumbo have been instrumental in teaching the language in our program. Their wealth of experience and knowledge is humbling, and our cohort is continuously grateful for their teachings.

img_0195

Indigenous Language Mentorship course – Belinda Sabourin, Leonie Sabourin, and Instructor Trish R. – Sewing Demonstration – learning Dene Zhatié words and phrases – needle, thread, embroidery, stroud, etc.

Personally, I have experienced exciting and empowering language growth since the start of this language program. Before this program I had difficulty even counting from 1-10, or greeting someone properly in the language. Like most children I knew some basic colours, a few animal names, and a few basic commands (like “calm down” or “eat” – the common phrases often expressed to children). And while I took evening classes whenever the opportunity arose, I did not retain meaningful language from those lessons for the long-term.

After almost two years in this program and 400 MAP hours, I can now have short and simple conversations in the language. I can pick out bits of fluent conversation between fluent speakers and can work to understand the gist of their conversations. Without regular practice I risk losing my language gains. Time invested in immersion is the key to achieving language progress. I am still not near fluent yet, but I’ve taken steps towards my goal and that is an amazing feeling!

15034062_10154658845364318_706715641_o

Group photo at Telemia Camp – Nicole Perron, Terry Sapp, Cecile Deneyoua, Patricia Bouiver, Gracyn Tanche, Dahti Tsetso, Trish R, Evelyn Sabourin, Kim Hardisty, Joyce McLeod, Nimisha Bastesdo, Beverly Hope, Leonie Sabourin & Jonas Landry (who has completed the program already) Missing from photo: Cheryl Cli, Belinda Constant

A major factor in my language journey so far, and one of the program’s biggest strengths is the group identity that has been fostered by the program. I have not done this as an individual, but as a member of a cohort.

Collectively, we are thirteen strong-minded women. We learn alongside each other; supporting and encouraging each other as we go. We have experienced this program and the empowerment it has brought to our lives together. We have borne witness to each other’s growth.

13559044_10154259216999318_5525595186596649018_o

Students of the ‘Dehcho Dene Zhatié: Indigenous Language Revitalization Program spent a week learning at The Telemia Camp outside of Fort Providence.

There are just six months left in this language program: some of us will choose to continue on and pursue a Bachelors degree in order to become fully certified elementary and secondary school teachers. Some of us will be satisfied to finish in April 2016 with a Diploma in this program. Whatever each one us decides to pursue, the end of this program is just over the horizon, and we will each hold our own responsibility to continue on in our language journeys. I am both thankful and hopeful for the road ahead.

Sedzée t’áh máhsi enéhthę. Łı́e dzęne, nezų Dene K’ę́ę́ gohndeh gha. Azhíi dúyé enéhthę! Mahsi dúyé!

[With my heart I am thankful. One day I will speak well in the language. Anything is possible for me! I am very thankful!].

13533088_10154256725104318_7943255668202291433_n

While at the Telemia Camp, the students learned how to traditionally tan a hide while only using Dene Zhatié words and phrase – scrapping, holes, hard surface, scrapper, etc.

In closing, I will leave you with an oath to learning Dene Zhatié. As a cohort we chose to adopt this oath and I hope that in reading this some of you might be inspired to do that same…

Untitled.jpg