So How Did I Get Started?

I supposed I’ve always been a helper, an advocate, a voice that disrupts injustices. I remember very clearly my second grade year, when we moved to Scarborough and I started a new school-Eight Corners Elementary. I don’t remember a lot of the details, that was many many moons ago, but I remember the overall vibe that I felt, one of being an outsider. If you have never experienced it, I can’t even begin to explain how consuming it becomes when it feels like every action, every move and every word is watched and judged.

I remember getting into playground fights with boys who shouted awful names at me for being Native. I remember getting in trouble for helping my classmates’ who struggled with math, which came easy for me, because the teacher would say I was cheating. I remember being so excited for a classmates’ birthday cupcakes, standing in line to get one from the teacher and then when I got to the front she loudly declared “you already had one, go take your seat”, knowing full well I was at the back of the line. The name-calling didn’t result in me stopping trying to make friends. The scolding didn’t stop me from trying to help my classmates. The gaslighting didn’t stop me from challenging untruths. I did however develop a loathing for math, but that’s not necessarily all the fault of this experience.

I share this because it was one of the most impactful early experiences that showed me not every room is going to welcome me, but I have just as much of a right to that room as everyone else. And though the path might be harder, I get to choose how to walk it. I think second grade me would be so proud of how far we have come, that our light continues to shine and that we will never let the bullies get the best of us.