For years, the running water would turn brown in our house and would not be safe to drink. However, what else were we supposed to drink? Most homes I would visit on the rez had major issues that would definitely not be safe in a city such as: structural issues, plumbing/leaks and mold, among others. This was all very normal to us growing up. As long as we had a roof over our heads, we were blessed. Most people on the rez were malnourished due to a lack of knowledge about how unhealthy their diets were. I grew up on macaroni and cheese, soup and bannock, pizza, pops and noodles – foods that delivered few beneficial nutrients. But it wasn’t entirely my fault – the local store had no locally grown vegetables or fruits. When people consume empty calories (processed foods), the brain does not get nourished and continues to feel hungry until it gets the proper vitamins/minerals. Inevitably, Diabetes is a major problem that many of my relatives have had to battle. Unfortunately, First Nations people have some of the highest rates of diabetes in Canada due to lack of access to proper nutrition and clean drinking water.
Adapting to other people can also have its disadvantages. In grade 5, I remember failing numerous tests just to get a funny reaction from the kids in my class. This poor behavior would eventually send me to summer school and an extra reading program. But grade 5 was also the year that would change my life. It was the year I had become great friends with Johann, a boy from South Africa. Johann and I became close at recess playing soccer with the other kids. Out of the entire school, he was the only one to ask me, “Kendal, why aren’t you playing soccer on the after school team? We go to neighboring towns like Wilkie, Marsden and Unity. You are just as good as any of us, why aren’t you playing?” There was an awkward pause as I struggled to explain to Johann: “We don’t have a vehicle, my only transportation is the bus to and from school, I don’t have $50 to pay the fee, I don’t even have soccer gear to play in, and my family is living on welfare.” This was definitely something that Johann was not used to hearing. That very night he told his parents what I had told him at recess. And the next day, Johann’s parents paid for me to play on the after school team; they would eventually drive me to my reserve after each game. They gave me my first opportunity to play organized sports with a coach, and that is something I am truly grateful for.
Johann and I became best friends and I would try to be at his house every weekend. They had a beautiful house at Attons Lake, SK. His mom was an amazing cook and cared deeply for everyone in her household – and her guests. I always felt welcomed when I would visit. His dad would become one of my biggest role models as a youth. Johann’s family was originally from South Africa; his father brought his family to Canada when Johann was a child and became a doctor in pursuit of a brighter future in Canada. Johann’s parents knew what it was like to start from nothing and struggle to build a better life. I believe he saw something good in me that allowed me to spend many days at his house over the next few years. His father had an insane work ethic. I used to watch him work, study, be an amazing father and husband all while leading a healthy lifestyle. He would run marathons around the lake (at least it felt like a marathon) while Johann and I would ride our bikes behind him following. He was a great role model and he would compliment me and encourage me in a positive way whether it was about a soccer game or how I was dressed that day. He gave me confidence when I couldn’t find it in myself yet. Words have power; you never know who you can impact by complimenting another person.
By the time we were in seventh grade, I received some sad news. Johann and his family were going to move a few hours away to Saskatoon. I was devastated and wondered how I was going to continue to play the game that I loved so much and lose having my best friend at the same school. But what happened next changed not only my life, but that of my whole family. Before they moved away, they gave me and my family a gift. It was something that was sitting in their driveway that they were not using – a 1986 Ford Crown Victoria. They gave us a vehicle because they felt that my mom was doing everything she could to help us grow into a brighter future and they knew a car was what was needed to allow us to continue playing after school sports. We couldn’t believe their generosity; we soon found my mom driving us to soccer practices and becoming more involved in after school activities. Most of my farmer friends had nice cars and trucks and while most people would feel uncomfortable with an older, big vehicle pulling up after soccer practice, I was just grateful to have a vehicle.
I would continue to visit Johann and his family when I would have dentist appointments in Saskatoon – because in grade 7, I also got braces, which would last for three years (ouch). I remember like yesterday getting the braces on and I was the only First Nations kid in the orthodontist chair when an older “Caucasian women” was assigned to me. I immediately sensed that she was discouraged to have me as a patient. She cut my gums so badly and yanked my mouth around like a rag doll; I knew it had to do with the color of my skin because she treated all her other patients besides me with more respect. Racism would be a problem I would continue to face in some doctors’ offices, stores and from strangers over the years.
Back at Cut Knife, there would be events that made people from my background very uncomfortable. Throughout the year there would be several potlucks, where each student was assigned a food item on the menu to bring to a school meal. Every single time I was assigned an item, I was unable to bring it, because we didn’t have the extra money to do so. So you can imagine how haunting it was to show up to the potluck and have the kids mock you for not showing up with the food you were supposed to bring. It was embarrassing.
As we grew up, I also noticed that my fellow brothers and sisters from the neighboring First Nations Reservations were predominantly put into “Resource Rooms,” where students who were basically not up to par with everyone else were sent to learn. They were secluded from everyone and I used to wonder how this was a better learning situation for them; it made no sense. I was one of the lucky ones who didn’t get sent to that room. I believe this happened because I was able to adapt and fit in with my “white friends,” which convinced my teachers that I was normal enough to be in a regular classroom. Later on in life, a boy from my rez who had been placed in one of the isolated learning rooms ended up committing suicide.
One day during 7th grade, we were all required to participate in a science fair. Our teacher insisted that we all needed to dress up sharp, which meant guys would have to wear dress pants, a dress shirt and a tie – none of which I owned. I had some money that I was saving in my room and I asked my mom if I had enough to buy a cheap outfit for the science fair. My mom measured me and we began to search through the Sears Catalogue. I was able to afford an outfit that I ordered in time for the Science Fair. The day of the science fair I was excited to be dressed up for the first time and ready to present my project (although it had nothing to do with science – it was about violence in video games). When I got to school my classmates told me to tuck my shirt in (I had no clue), and I had to ask our vice principal to tie my Mickey Mouse tie. After all that was done, I was dressed for success and I felt like a million bucks! I felt confident and was able to do my presentation on my own (even though I had a partner who skipped out). That day I got an honorable mention, which I was super proud of. I believe because I dressed the part, it elevated my confidence and I was able to give the presentation everything I had.
I am very grateful to the many people from Cut Knife and the surrounding area who allowed me to be their friend and allowed me into their homes. Several of my friends would invite me to camp over for a weekend and hang out. I would always be in awe of their homes and the stuff that they had. One in particular had a beautiful home, everything you would want in a house and even the breakfast his mom made was like something out of a movie.
Between grades 7 and 9, I started to play more sports – like volleyball and badminton. I grew fonder of the sport of volleyball primarily because I had great role models back home who always played it such as my mom, aunty, uncles, and cousins. We would play over old swing sets and eventually found a way to get a volleyball net in my Kokum’s yard where we would meet up to have games after school. This was the beginning of my volleyball career.
In grade 9, I was playing a lot of floor hockey; there was an upcoming tournament in Wilkie, SK, and I decided to attend. During the tournament I was giving it everything I had when out of nowhere I saw my dad on the sidelines. He looked at me and said: “play hard son.” I was shocked to see him there cheering me on; he later took me to North Battleford to eat and then dropped me off back at home. I knew how passionate he was about