Storytelling: fostering healthier relationships - Back Burner

A summer holiday is like a blessing, especially when you are able to leave your home environment. In early July, I had the great privilege of journeying to Yukon with family and friends. We went to the International Storytelling Festival in Whitehorse and then spent five days in Kluane National Park. We were awed by mountains and glaciers and humbled in this land where grizzlies, moose and eagles reign. Our eyes were filled with the glory of wild lupines, roses, fireweed and all the alpine flowers blooming profusely along the highways and mountain paths. The land, lakes, rivers and sky imprinted our souls.

We drove vast stretches of highway where we passed few vehicles and saw none of the familiar fast food places outside Whitehorse. We learned that the population is approximately 30,000 people. Two-thirds live in Whitehorse and one-third of the total population is First Nations and Metis people. These numbers are important because they tell a story about different ways of relating to the land and to each other.

First Nations people have negotiated co-management of the National Parks. Original names are being restored to mountains, lakes and rivers. Kathleen Lake, undoubtedly named by some wandering Irishman for the love of his life, will be back on the maps as Mat'atana Man, frozen lake.

The Storytelling Festival was founded sixteen years ago by two Yukon women. They knew that Angela Sidney, one of the last speakers of the Tagish language, had to travel to Toronto to have a place to tell stories beyond her circle. They wanted to promote storytelling among people of different cultures and encourage youth to carry the tradition forward.

We listened to First Nations grandmothers share stories they told their youth about how to survive in the bush. A middle-aged man, a Cree storyteller from Thompson, Manitoba concluded his last set by calling all the women in the audience to the front. He spoke of his wife and her support of him and of his love for his mother who had recently died. He asked all the men to stand and honour the women in their lives. He sang an honour song to the beat of his drum; the heart beat of Mother Earth.

We had a shocking re-entry to our lives in Edmonton. We arrived to hear the horrible news of the discovery of a woman's body dumped in a farmer's field. When her body was finally identified, we listened to media coverage that told her name and some of her story. Her family and friends shared their memories and photos. She was a mother of four and a beloved daughter, sister, and friend. Her sister came from Saskatchewan to bring her body home.

At the same time, there was news coverage of an armed stand-off a few blocks from our home. A young man with gang affiliations escaped from a prison on a reserve where he was serving time for a brutal assault against an elderly woman in Edmonton. He shot at reporters and asked the police for pizza and cocaine. In the end, he turned the gun on himself and chose death in a derelict house. His sister recently received a four-year sentence for killing a man who was a drug dealer. I felt numbed by this news of brutal deaths and despairing lives. I pondered on what had led these young people to drugs, gangs, jail time, despair and death. I thought about how unhealthy and unsafe our cities can be for many people, especially for those who are First Nations and Metis. Edmonton has the second largest Aboriginal population of Canadian cities. The Edmonton Journal recently reported on a study by Alberta Health showing that healthcare costs for Aboriginal people are twice as high. The headline read "People are suffering-the whole community is paying economically and spiritually." Perhaps we could learn from the Yukon experience about how to foster healthier relationships among Aboriginal people and those of us from other ethno-cultural communities.

We could create more opportunities for story sharing and find ways to encourage youth to participate. Check out a Storytelling festival in your area. It's a good place to start.

Kate Quinn writes from Edmonton, Alta.

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