For me to say today that I am “indigenous” will raise a lot of eyebrows, particularly in Canada. That word has become very useful for correctly describing people who are native to North America – or, as the Oxford Dictionary puts it – inhabitants from before the arrival of colonists. It is now more than…
I have a sweet memory of driving with Ralph from our home in the city to his brother’s place, the family farm. It was a late summer evening, with the sun about an hour from setting. I remember it being the kind of warm temperature that begs for windows to be rolled down. We could smell…
Like the Duggar family I grew up without a TV. Yet their lives, more than mine, have been deeply shaped by television. Over two million people watched each episode of 19 and Counting, a reality show that ran from 2008 to 2015 featuring Jim Bob, Michelle and their very large homeschooling Baptist family. Despite the…
Since childhood I have wanted to know who my ancestors were and where I came from. This flowed out of a general interest in history. I knew the major milestones such as the Roman Empire, the Middle Ages and the exploration and settlement of the Americas. But where did my own family enter the picture?…
As daylight dwindled, I sat alone. The crickets chirped their lullaby. The campfire flickered gently. I savoured the peaceful evening and happily pondered the lively afternoon spent with our daughter Stephanie and her girls (ages 9, 7 and 5). September in Ontario had started off with a late summer heatwave and our grandkids enthusiastically churned…
Born in Jackson, Michigan, to Frances Marie Hyder and Eino Korpinen, my mother had a difficult upbringing. Her father left the family when she was quite small. When Marie remarried a few years later, my mother had to endure an abusive alcoholic stepfather. It was not a promising start. But few have exhibited the grace…
I am an American who happens to have a Dutch last name. That’s one of the surprising things I’ve learned while living in The Hague this year. Frankly, I had expected something quite different. I thought I would feel a lot more Dutch. What would you have expected to feel if all your ancestors, going…
There were not many options on Sunday afternoons. We were not allowed to do homework. Even workaholic men like my father were not permitted to labor. There was, however, a lot of visiting. Sometimes an invitation was extended in the church parking lot. Other times my parents proposed a drive after lunch and we wandered…
In this fictional, historically-based graphic novel for juvenile readers, author R. J. Palacio fleshes out the background of characters she first introduced in her previous works, Wonder and Auggie & Me, especially that of Julian and his ancestors. Julian is assigned a project to write an essay about someone he knows for his humanities class. He facetimes with…
Stories were an integral part of my childhood. Both of my parents were talented storytellers with no shortage of interesting material: a childhood in pre-war Germany, life through WWII and immigration to Canada. Their stories were often highly entertaining, featuring family characters, historical events and important life lessons. Thanks to their diligence as raconteurs of…
Last January we found a creek down by the lake that had frozen smooth, just over three kilometres of it, perfect for skating. For a few wonderful weeks, the temperature stayed cold and skies were clear so we skated almost every day for hours. We were on the ice again by January 11 this year….
In the summer of 1965 Jack and I were both happy-go-lucky nine-year-olds, living life between grades three and four. We grew up about 15 miles apart. Although we never met, I wonder if maybe we ever stood in the same lineup for ice cream at the Stoney Creek Dairy. That was one of the best…
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