My connection

Missing Aboriginal Men.

After my incident and lots of pondering on the what if's, I thought of my missing cousin, Lester Sampson, in Hazelton.  It will be a Year in August that he went missing.  August 25th 2015, last seen talking to a woman on a picnic table. He was an extreme creature of habit, you could set your clock to his routine. He hated being away from home as he was a bit of a hermit. Growing up on a Reserve in rural British Columbia will do that to you. 

What I am thinking about is missing men and how they go missing. August in the North is Mushroom picking season. Many many unfamiliar faces on the roads and in the stores. Many people driving around in the back roads that you do not recognize because they are drawn in by the money made. If you are a good mushroomer and the prices are right, you can make a nice little nest egg for the winter. But the reality is these people are strangers.

I am not saying he was murdered but that the possibility is there. It is another reminder that we are in a complacent culture, Oh well...another missing Aboriginal Man 

I think about my aunties and cousins back home and how they are barely coping, because no closure can happen when we don't know what happened or where he is. 

Missing Aboriginal Women..girls..young friends.

My friend Lana Derrick was last seen hitchhiking back to Burns Lake after spending Thanksgiving weekend at home in Terrace with family and friends. This was in 1995. She had done it so many times before and was a pretty confident woman. This was over 20 years ago and her family still do not have answers. When I go home, I still make it a point to stop in and say hello to Lana's mom. I take my daughter to meet her and understand the grief that never goes away. I don't do it guilt my daughter but to teach her that we are a people that are over looked and treated like second and third class citizens. The pain that is still in a mothers eyes...it is heart wrenching. 

These are the things that come to mind when I experience racism. I think about my friends that live on the streets, the vulnerable native men, women and the kids, that at anytime, could disappear. I talk to the people on the streets, many know my name and I ask when I don't see someone for awhile. I have been appreciative that their location is usually known by someone. and if not, I see them and it sets my mind at ease.

anyways, that's what is currently on my mind.