Made of Plastic


It must be easy to be a LEGO figure.

For starters, you know exactly who you are: you’re Johnny Thunder, or Flex, or the Brickster. Even superheroes have it easy: Peter Parker and Spider-man are each their own person. No need to deal with secret identities. No identity crises. No need to go on self-discovering journeys or intense soul-searching. Continue reading “Made of Plastic”

So My Great Grandmother Was In A Residential School…

An old leather skin drum

I’d always known that I had First Nations ancestry in me. But for the longest time, it was nothing more than an obscure trivia fact. People wouldn’t expect that a white slice of bread like me would have Cree running through his veins (then again, most people wouldn’t expect the same white slice to be a Muslim convert either). So when I learned that my great grandmother had gone to a residential school, it brought the issue of my ancestry suddenly and uncomfortably close to me. Continue reading “So My Great Grandmother Was In A Residential School…”