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Rustee’s Story

*Image to follow

November 2020

Rollacoasta ….of love

Tossing and turning, feeling sore, cold, unsure if I should get up or just lie here another hour or ten. Out of the silence bellows a good morning howl from my one eyed husky, Bure. As I tackle the dark slopes of my stairs, a squeak and a tweak, followed by a “ffs Gino” echoing throughout the forest of Klehkhoot. I take a deep breath and gaze my eyes to the floor, a chuckle and smile slowly form an excitement for the day that only comes from the love of my dogs. Through the walls of their crates and the door of their room you can hear the tails slowly wag as if sweeping in one area repeatedly. With each step the speed of the tails go from the slight sweeping to a drumming rhythm, yet never in sync.  “My boys, my boys” I yell out as I flick on the lights and make goofy dance moves and faces whilst opening their cages. Its go time, out for a perimeter check as the winds this week have been furious, then a good sit by the river to say hi to my late father. After a little “Night time is the Right time” and a puff of my pipe we make our way back up to the house to decide what to do today. Another puff later we dim the lights and return back to silence.

In and out deeper and slower, my breath allows movement to flow, rather than kink and strain, stiffen and clench, I can extend and release, strengthen and flex. Eventually I have pretzelled myself into so many positions the session comes to an end with a long still lie, meditation is no longer attainable, and again the mind begins to wonder. What is missing??? What is different??

Well, what’s different is the world is no longer the place it was 8+months ago. Covid has allowed the true colors or people to show. The most heinous ideals and sheer division of good and evil have taken over. And those who thrive or benefit from these evil tools are doing there darndest to gain as much power they can while others are weak and suffering. The worst in humanity is now thrown in our faces. Social and other media outlets come at us from every angle making it damn near impossible to heal or grow.

Pre covid my life was very simple and I kept to myself. I live outside of Port Alberni in the woods beside a river, in a territory the Hupacasath call Kleekhoot. Its here where my late father resided and at times in my life I lived as well. It was a place of peace for me. When life would become too much, I would often return home for some decompression.

Pre covid my social life and favorite thing to do was go down to Ecco Center and mingle with the people in the fitness area. Here I would usually pretend to workout, really just joking around with the other folks sharing similar agendas. I would then swim a bunch of laps and do some water stretching. Eventually I would make my way to the sauna where I would then do my Hot yoga routine. Once I hit that certain temp, I would slip out for a quick dip in the ice pool. Now my body is at its perfect point to lose itself. Where my mind can shut down and my soul can escape my body and go to places, I need and not want. Where I can see people I would not be able to in the regular world. This was my medicine. I always found that before covid I could at the very least shut down the brain and let it rest even without the sauna and ice pool. Unfortunately, covid has gone beyond just interrupting my daily routine.

When George Floyd was murdered, and all the protests began, the empath in me was took over. I am not talking about the craze that has hit the world where everyone is an empath, and has special healing powers. I am talking about the one who witnesses evils and though its not happening to them they feel every little bit of that pain. The ones who want to soak up all the hate inside themselves and turn that shit to gold. Its been in me since I can remember however I was never truly aware of this. I have always had this gift to listen feel and understand those going through pain. Maybe because I too have dealt with a lot of pain, maybe not. But one thing is for sure is that we I feel so strongly it can make me ill, mentally and physically. So, when George Floyd was murdered, I went into a very dangerous state, going down a wormhole of hatred trying to find a way to soothe the suffering of others.

As a proud first nations member of the Hupacasth it was excruciating to see all the hate and racism going on throughout the world. The division was not only on tv but at my front step as well. I lost a lot of people I once called friend, and even lost some family. Not from covid but from the hate and division. Racism has been a bully to me my whole life and at times assimilated me to someone I was not. So, when the world was exploding with a “race War” it hurt. I cried no wait balled my eyes out for days. Everything I saw was ugly and it was only getting worse. I felt useless, how could I help those who were being affected by all this evil. Then it hit home, and hard. A young couple decided to share their hatred for first nations people with my family and community members. They drove around our territory shouting racist remarks and firing a gun scaring many children and members of all ages. It was then followed by one of our own community members being Murdered by the New Brunswick RCMP.

Although it seemed to all be unraveling this is when I found my outlet. My way of healing, for both myself and for others. The two tribes in town came together, and we did a march for our fallen angel. Our murdered sister was going to hear us sing for her, and sing for our future. It was pretty scary as I was the first to arrive. In my cultural regalia and drum in hand I stood alone in the town square. As I got some eyes looking my direction, I began to fear I was in for some form of conflict. In the past I may have seen these looks and just sat in my car until others arrived, but this day was different. As more people passed and onlookers looked, I put my head down and began to sing. I sang a song from my family. A song that was about our people being tired. It’s the same song id sing to my niece when she was crying at night and to my dog when he was dealing with a major eye injury. To my surprise, voices began to join in and when I opened my eyes I was surrounded by drummers and singers, and that fear I had earlier was no longer. We then began to apply paint to those who wanted. Placing a hand over the faces in red and or black. Just applying this paint, I could feel all the pain, all the trauma in these individuals, passed down from one generation to the next. But then I felt the power, the power of healing, the power of my ancestors who had to fight in wars of their own. I loved this feeling.

That day we marched to town hall, all singing and drumming our traditional songs and flaunting regalia. We marched proud and loud, and we showed this town we would not back down in the face of hate. Along with Hupacasath and Tseshaht we had people of all walks of life. It was a beautiful sight where unity was at the forefront. Once we got to city hall things went differently than they did in the past. I remember hearing of my late father having to fight and yell just to be heard and protest outside of city hall just to be seen. But this was not like those times. At the front of city hall was a covered stage with a mic, and water being handed out to those who needed. City council then asked one of our members to get up and say a prayer, as well as explain why we were all gathered there. City council then asked that the two tribes say something and then open the floor to anyone who wanted to contribute. I was asked by my Hereditary to say a few words and acknowledge the family of our fallen sister. This meant a lot to me and had me up all night trying to prepare something for when id speak. When I got to that mic, my cousin and good friend from our neighbouring tribe asked to stand with me while I spoke. This was huge. The hupacasath and Tseshsaht have been divided since the early 90’ and it was very rare to see them unite publicly. What was even cooler, the last two to do so were both of our late fathers who were also close friends. My heart felt full that day, and it wanted more.

Since that day we have ridden the covid roller-coaster. New ups and downs hills and valleys good days and bad have come and gone, but the want still thrives. The want to do more cultural healing, more personal growth and self realization. Today is two days before the 2d anniversary of my dad’s death and It was 6 months before that when I moved back home. In a kneejerk reaction I packed up and left what I had known for years before. My job, my friends, my gym, it was a big change. As a teen and young adult, I always said that Port had nothing for me and I would never move back, yet here I was doing just that and making the decision to do so over one phone call. My first 6 months home I was busy taking care of my dying father and had no time to think of the future, nor did I want to. Life without my father, my best friend, I didn’t want to think what that would be. But when he passed, its all I could think about. It was a brutal and forceful shift in my life that I truly had no control over. So now two years later, my heart has this thirst to thrive and grow. I have a feeling of what I am supposed to do, and the time to figure out how to do so.

Though covid has been a horrible nightmare that nobody could have dreamed up, it has also brought the best out of those who hold it. Yes, it has been a dark time not only for myself but for history and humanity. But covid has also allowed those to raise up and achieve certain goals, even if by force, it has created strength. A lot of beautiful people are doing beautiful things, and creating a new way for others to shine. Social media can be a dark wormhole of negativity that consumes and devours those in its way. However, social media also spreads vibes of positivity and love. During covid, social media has made me cry more from all the amazing things people can do over all the clips of hate. Even through the clips of hate we can see a silver lining. Nobody deserves to die at the hands of another, especially that of one who is hired to protect not harm. But what came from George Floyds murder video needed to happen. It needed to bring light to the injustices and failures white society hid from. It needed to give strength to the hidden leaders in every community.

So, as I sit here sipping my cold mocha and puff on my blue pipe full of some stinky indica, I remain positive on the good of humanity to shine through over all the evils. I am fearful of those who will suffer or lose their lives from this horrible plague. But I am optimistic that this time will allow more growth, more unity, and most of all more understanding. Once we can understand one another better, we can then learn to respect each other more.

“The future will never be free of conflict, so an appropriate goal of Reconciliation process is to establish norms for resolving disagreement in a peaceful, just and equitable manner”. That was taken from the Main Goal of Reconciliation with indigenous people and the province of British Columbia. It speaks loudly to me.

In the aforementioned, I stated that I now Knew what I was meant to do in life. Though it is vague my path is to help my people. By “my people” I mean all people that are close to me, all that are dear. I am going to start with the community that molded me as child. I am currently running for Hupacasath Bad council in hopes to bring new and fun opportunities to the Hupacasath. Like the community did to me, I want to help mold the futures of our youths. I want them to be proud of who they are, and what they can do. My professional background consists of working in the hospitality industry, and that will be important. Hospitality also know as the service industry has trained me to go above and beyond, for little to no payout. Now I will apply those to a community that has given so much to me, the payoff will be priceless. No monetary value will be able to determine the wealth I will hold in my heart. If I can make a difference for just one youth in a positive way, I will consider myself a success. In first nations tradition wealth is not what you own but what you can share. To be on council will not just be an honor and privilege but also a responsibility to “serve” my fellow hupacasath members. 

So as the next covid wave breaches our shores I understand it will not be an easy time, but it will be a time to be the best me, and a time to try and spread that love to as many as I can. I was a bit all over the place as I wrote this, but that’s how the first part of covid has been for me. Perhaps in my next entry, like my vision now, the writing will be more fluid. Until then ….

Kleco kleco (kind gregards, thanks)

Cuu (until next time)

Tii-Tii-Tis-kin-is (Rustee Watts)

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