Black Sheep
Trip Start
Aug 22, 2008
1
21
58
Trip End
Jul 2009
Inuvik,
Northwest Territories,
Canada
Friday, September 19, 2008
The horrible juxtaposition is that earlier today I went to a Take Back the Night event. I had spent the day at a Pro-D conference and was on my way to the Mackenzie Hotel for a post-day Wine and Cheese when I noticed that the Produce Man was in town. Not wanting the dregs I popped in and bought a bag of goodies. On my way home I heard a commotion and saw a huge banner and marching and a camera, etc. They were movng in my direction so I hurried as fast as I could with my heavy bag, dumped the bag and filled the fridge, and hustled back to the main road. I had to run to catch up. I walked and chanted all the way to Ingamo Hall. There was one other teacher in the crowd -- though "crowd" is a generous choice of word. Gerri Sharpe-Staples had been the head chanter and invited Russ and I inside to continue the ceremony. There were speeches and sharing followed by a candlelight circle and then lots of food. Russ and I chatted with people, ate better than the wine and cheese party (or so we assumed), and then took our leave to head back to the Mackenzie. We weren't sure if anyone would still be there but gave it a shot. We should not have been concerned; the place was packed with teachers. I spent a fair bit of time with a woman named Kathy and she told me she wanted to go to the Trapper to dance. It was getting late and she wanted to leave so I told her I would go with her. She left, I got caught up talking to someone new, and when I couldn't find her I headed to the Trapper. I got there and the place was nearly empty. I turned on my heel, headed out and that's when I heard the scrapping. I turned and squinted a few times as I thought it might have been a couple of my girls. At the bank, I stopped and stared and some guy made a comment that prompted me to tell him I was trying to see "if it was any of my girls". His buddy said, "No, they aren't yours; they're both Aboriginal". I nearly choked on my smile -- that was cute!! It was so sweet of him. I then said that I had meant if it might be any of my Grade 8 girls that I teach at the high school. The first guy told me not to worry, that these girls were older. I stood and watched with the rest of the crowd (this time "crowd' is a more appropriate word choice). I was about to leave when the RCMP pulled up and the next thing I know he has a girl by each hand. Strangely, it looked to me like a dad taking his girls for a walk on the beach. It looked less like that when one of them ended up against the vehicle. One of the girls who had been involved was now on the other side of the street from us and crossed over. This didn't thrill me. It turned out that she knew the "first guy" and in fact the coat sitting on the steps of the bank belonged to her. The next thing that happened was beautiful in a very touching way - though some of you may think I am a tad crackers. The girl starts to comment how the other girl didn't throw a very hard punch and if she had hit her what would have happened, etc. etc. Then she seems to notice I am there and "buddy" says something I don't quite catch but it prompts the "first guy" to take my hand, put it into the hand of the girl, and then say, "She was worried about some of her students" in a very plaintive way. The "girl" looks me in the eye, nods, and shakes my hand. I think I am now acccepted into the family. I think I'll be the black sheep of this family, but that's good with me. She talks about wanting to go after one of the girls and I offer the sage advice of waiting until the cops leave. "First Guy" echoes me and she is still pacing but doesn't just leave. I am the Wise Crone of this family. I am tired of being the advisor and take my leave. I am nodded my thanks - and then asked for money for a pop or a juice. Right. Lucky thing I left the house without a wallet (liar). I head back to the Mackenzie, find everyone still there - just in another room - and find Kathy. Lots of chatting later, she has convinced a large group to head to the Trapper. We become 90% of the room and fill the dance floor. I dance every dance - and especially enjoy the fiddle tunes (to which I clog). More teachers wander in after midnight and I left before closing the place down. Hope there weren't any more fights.
