#blackouttuesday

When my family came to Canada from Scotland, we lived in a small community in northern BC. I had close friends from the nearby Indigenous reserve in elementary school. Not even a handful continued on to high school. Graduation rates have improved, but slowly.
When G and I got our first teaching job up north, we were advised not to interact with community members and especially not with the local Indigenous people. We ignored that advice and were among the few white people who socialized with Indigenous families and made many friends. We loved their children in our classes, as we loved all the other children. 
I worked closely with Indigenous people for many years. They are my colleagues, my students, above all my friends. I think of all of them as part of my family, my brothers and sisters.
I have listened to countless stories from some of them who were ripped away from their families and taken to residential schools and the terrible effects those experiences had on them.
I have listened to countless stories from others whose family members were taken to residential school and the transgenerational trauma caused by that.
I have listened to stories about the violence in their communities and the determination to rise above it.
I've been in their homes, shared meals with them in their homes and ours. 
I've seen first hand the living conditions on many reserves. 
I have been in awe of the struggles and hard work of many who sacrificed so much to make a difference in the lives of their families, their friends, their communities. 
I have witnessed the pride that Indigenous people have in their history,  and how many strive to bring back languages and keep traditions strong. G and I have been among the few white people who were invited to attend cultural ceremonies and sit with families in the big house in the community where I worked. Anyone who says that Indigenous people have no culture, no spirituality, no traditions is ignorant. 
I have been fortunate to sit with elders and be taught by them. 
I have sat in rooms where I was the only white person and have always been made to feel welcome, unlike one of my students who sat at a table in a university course with a group of white students and had each of them move to another table. 
I have been in schools, Indigenous and non-Indigenous, where teachers are working hard to improve education, to teach about Indigenous history in this country, to value all students and encourage them be proud of who they are and where they come from.
I have witnessed many students complete undergraduate degrees, masters degrees and PhDs and have celebrated their achievements with them and their families. I have witnessed them going on to make incredible differences in the lives of others. I have been so lucky to have been part of their journeys.
We have cried together, and yes - we have laughed together. I learned the importance of humour to help get through the tough times from my Indigenous friends. 
The number of stories I've heard about racist incidents over the years is appalling. The number of negative comments directed at G and me about our interactions with Indigenous peoples is appalling. I've been asked so many times why I worked in an Indigenous program with "those people." I've explained so many times about how my work has enriched my life and G's life, how I've been taught so much, how incredibly lucky we've been to have so many wonderful people in our lives and to have had such experiences. 
We have friends from all races and from all walks of life. Our lives would be so much less if we didn't. To any white person who feels that he is superior to a person of colour - you are not. We are all human. We all deserve respect and justice. 
The events happening in the US and the behaviour of the president make me so angry and so sad. I can only hope that some positive changes will come out of it. I've always hoped to see significant change in my life, and I have to hold on to that hope. We must raise our voices against racism. We must. If not us, who?