Stressed Out鈥擳wenty One Police

Kenora 聼 Vermillion Bay 聼 Dryden 聼 Ignace

Life in Grey鈥擯oint Point

A year ago today, I hugged my ex one last time, and drove my weak, teary-eyed shell back to Ottawa. I struggled for weeks. Meeting new people, feeling alone, forcing myself to stay still and study. It was a really hard year at school. A lot of big changes happened at once.

When I made it to Christmas break, I sighed. I kept my head above water; I can do this, I can make it. Then my brother asked me, 鈥渨hen was the last time you were truly, wholeheartedly happy?鈥� And I gave him a closed-mouth, wide-eyed stare.

And when I made it to summer break, I smiled. I鈥檓 successfully treading these waters; I can do this, I made it halfway. At this point, he told me 鈥渃hase dreams for a few months, just see what happens. The Summer of Ariel.鈥� And that鈥檚 just what I did.

Say My Name (ft. Zyra)鈥擮DESZA

Upsala 聼 Thunder Bay 聼 Nipigon 聼 Beardmore

Mama Knows鈥擲ister Sparrow & The Dirty Birds

But I needed to know, what does it mean to be 鈥榟appy鈥�? Everyone has good days and bad days, happy and sad moments, glorious and frustrating times; how do you know when you鈥檙e truly, wholeheartedly happy? What does it feel like? How can I measure it? And so I asked. I asked people who go to school in the winter. I asked people who live on the reserves. I asked people who have debt. Who struggled with drug-abuse. Who have five children with two different mothers, and three step-children. I asked people who partied away all their summer earnings. I asked newlyweds, best friends, and roommates. I asked: 鈥淒o you think you鈥檙e truly happy, and how do you know? When you wake up in the morning, how do you feel when you鈥檙e wholeheartedly happy?鈥� I asked a lot of different people. And the answers were not really what I was expecting.

June, After Dark鈥擡lliot Root

Geraldton 聼 Longlac 聼 Hearst 聼 Kapuskasing

Meteorites 鈥揕ights

When I asked people who seemed to live a similar life to me, who were students that drove a car to work, who had a supportive family and a place to live, they generally said they would not consider themselves wholeheartedly happy. That maybe no one is truly happy all the time. He said that between work and sleep deprivation, he was miserable. Waking up tired and stressed, with a sore jaw from grinding and a pile of debt. That she knew she could not be wholeheartedly happy because while some important pieces are in place, some are still finding their way, and others are still missing. And even if the missing ones find their way, perhaps, she thought, happiness will not be the definite end result anyways. He鈥檒l wake up, groggy as hell鈥� he鈥檚 no morning person. But she wakes up knowing that the stress she has is鈥ell鈥� manageable. He shrugs, assuming he must be happy because he鈥檚 been unhappy and it feels different.

鲍办颈测辞鈥擧别谤尘颈迟耻诲别

Moonbeam 聼 Cochrane 聼 Iroquois Falls 聼 Matheson

High You Are (Branchez Remix) 鈥揥hat So Not

Then I asked people who I presumed to say they were genuinely unhappy. Who had, what I would consider, less than ideal living, financial, and relationship situations. In general, their answers were simple, short, and comprehensive.

I wake up feeling content.

I feel like I want to get out of bed and do something.

I feel well-rested.

I feel like I鈥檓 ready to go to work.

I feel鈥� happy!

Despite the cards they were dealt, despite their ability to buy in, they almost all said they were happy. They were all playing the best hand they could, and they were pleased with their efforts. Despite where they lived, or their list of post-work obligations and responsibilities, they all woke up in the morning feeling content. Smiling. Ready to take on the day. It didn鈥檛 seem to matter where they lived, or who they had around them, what money or drug problems they were battling, how high above water their heads were鈥� they still said that they generally wake up, feeling good in the morning.

Wow. Perspective.

Here I was. In school. In a clean apartment. A part-time job. Overall good health. No major, glaring debts. But a broken heart鈥攁nd I was so unhappy. Unmotivated. When one piece of my puzzle was misaligned, its effects were tragic. Imagine if I had to no money to my name but kids to support. Imagine if I was fighting an addiction. Imagine I couldn鈥檛 trust anyone in my community. Imagine if I was truly on my own, and alone. These are all things that I think would make me unhappy; conditions I would never want to live in, nor can I imagine anyone would. But people, all over this nation, face these challenges and conditions everyday鈥� and they are still smiling. Why is that?

Airwaves鈥擝rett Kissel

Englehart 聼 Temagami 聼 Marten River 聼 North Bay

Rill Rill鈥擲leigh Bells

Too often we peer into a community, and gasp. We鈥檙e in awe of how people live, and at the stories they share. Too often, we think we need to change this. That we know best, and we can help. That our research, our numbers, our knowledge will so greatly change the quality of life. Implement this, or install that, and overall health will 180^o. We will leave the community heroes, having slapped on smiles and straightened postures of all residents. But who are we to walk into a new place, claiming we know best? That we can fix everyone鈥攚e have the means. Who are we, when we sit at our desks, with our history and our experiences, being equally as, if not more, unhappy and discontent? Perhaps one鈥檚 ability to experience 鈥榳holehearted happiness鈥� depends on their method of definition, and therefore, an individual鈥檚 overall level of happiness is incomparable to another鈥檚. Maybe all that matters is that we wake up in the morning, and despite the motivating factor, we choose to get out of bed, and move one foot in front of the other. That we choose to listen to each other鈥檚 anecdotes, and learn. Hug someone you love, and smile in good company. Feel the wind on your skin. Perhaps the presence of anger, jealousy, sadness, guilt, shame, struggle, or frustration, doesn鈥檛 negate your level of happiness, but rather just identifies you as a regular, functioning human-being.

Cheerleader (Felix Jaehn Remix)鈥擮mi

Mattawa 聼 Deux-Rivi猫谤别蝉 聼 Rolphton 聼 Deep River

Girl On the Radio 鈥揊lorida Georgia Line

This time, when I made it home, I laughed. I swam through those waters. I made it, and I conquered. I kept my head above water, and I enjoyed the swim. Then my brother smiled at me and said I looked healthy. And for the first time in a long time, I was feeling, how I would describe, truly, wholeheartedly, happy.

Author Ariel Root聽wrote and took the photography for this series while in Kenora in her fourth season working as a forest fire fighter for the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry. 聽She has a BSc in Food Science & Nutrition from 杏吧原创 University in 2012, and is currently a graduate student in the Health Science, Technology and Policy program at 杏吧原创 University. She has been featured on APTN’s new hit TV show, Playing with Fire, Season 2.

Thank you Ariel for making us think!

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The end of the season always comes. And it always seems to be raining. And as I get closer and closer to my contract鈥檚 end, crewmembers seem to pitter out of the system. It鈥檚 a weird end, because not everyone ends on the same day. There鈥檚 no final hoo-raw, or goodbye. Some people are on tour when other people lock their locker for the last time. It鈥檚 a weird feeling, because some of those people will never be back and you鈥檒l never see them again. Those people that you鈥檝e grown so close to in such a short amount of time. Spending 40 hours a week together. Sleeping in the same canvas tent together. Driving in the crew cab together. Some of them you won鈥檛 hear from till next spring. Or until your paths cross again. If they ever do. It鈥檚 a bit of a weird feeling, and yet, it鈥檚 not really sad. Just weird. You learn to accept that that鈥檚 how the end of the season feels. It is what it is. Grey, overcast, rainy, and slowly getting quieter and quieter, until you as well, pack in your red and blue bags, and lock your locker for the last time.

Yesterday was a particularly gloomy day. It was the first day that three crew members said their goodbyes, locked their lockers, and drove off base bound for southern Ontario for their winter academics. It also poured 76mLs in less than 42 minutes. I was at a table, eating lunch, wondering what the afternoon would bring, when a crew boss sat down. He comes in late often. But he has a long drive from the reserve. A new baby born in August. And a hell of a story.

鈥淢y cousin committed suicide last night.鈥�

What do you even say to that? Just empty eyes and a dropped jaw.

She was a nice kid. Only 19. I rubbed the sides of my nose as I cupped my face and mouth with my hands. It鈥檚 real common on the res. They don鈥檛 know that it鈥檒l get better. That you just have to get past those feelings. And they鈥檙e all just kids. 10, 16, 14 years old. And that was it. My eyes were filled. And I clasped my hands behind my head, and stared upwards, biting my lip. I don鈥檛 understand鈥� how did she get that idea? Why did she get that idea? How do you think like that when you鈥檙e 10 years old? How do you feel that way?

鈥淵ou just feel鈥mpty. And it鈥檚 not even that you feel trapped, but you look around at your life, and you believe that that鈥檚 all there is. You see the people, and what they鈥檙e doing鈥� and you have no idea that there鈥檚 a whole world of opportunities and possibilities outside your community.鈥�

#TeenLife #ItGetsBetter #Suicide

Playing outside. Running around with friends. Biking to the neighbours. Building forts out of sticks. Waking up early, and coming home late. It鈥檚 not always that different than what I experienced. My summer days were running around, barefoot; smiles, and a curious mind that kept me outside. Her summer days were waking up early on the living room floor, and running around, hiding in the woods in the fort, where she felt safe. I wasn鈥檛 allowed inside because eating popsicles got sticky in there. She wasn鈥檛 allowed inside because playing woke dad from sleeping off a hangover. She forgives him for punishing her, but sometimes she鈥檒l still catch a glimpse of his old ways.

Sometimes his mom would take him to the city. Buy two or three movie tickets, and a large popcorn. They would spend all day together, watching movies. He smiles. It was the best. A vivid memory relived through the smirked right-side corner of a beautiful smile. And sometimes she would cry. And he didn鈥檛 know why, or what happened. Maybe she drank too much, or was having relationship troubles. He would just walk over to her, and lay his head on her chest. He gave her the love she needed. Just a little boy, being a man. But they never spoke about it. They never talked about feelings or what was going on. Because she never had that when she was his size. She never learnt how. She never knew she needed it.

#Abuse #Emotions #ParentStruggles

And you might think, as I once did, that it sounds horrible. Why would you want to live somewhere like that? Why would you choose to live somewhere like that? Why would you continue to stay somewhere like that? In a place where you feel like you can鈥檛 trust anyone. That, for some, fosters so many scarring memories and feelings. But let me tell you when and why: when you have 5 children of your own, and you can鈥檛 afford $1400/month rent in town. When you never had $100 to your name, and now you have to figure out how to manage an income and pay bills. When, despite its quality, that reserve has been home for your entire life. Think about never having been taught about bills, life responsibilities, financial commitments, or accountability. Think about how many hard lessons you would face on your own, with no support. Think about how strong you have to be. Still have to be.

His stepdaughter鈥檚 friends always ask her to come into town, and he tells her she can鈥檛 be doing that anymore. She has a bebe now. Responsibilities. She can鈥檛 be driving the bebe around in the car so much鈥攊t鈥檚 bad for her. She needs to be at home, growing and learning. He doesn鈥檛 want her to grow up like he did. He wants it better for her.

Some people are amazing. Some people who started with no support, no education. Who knew nothing outside their community. Somehow, they鈥檝e prevailed. They knew they wanted something different, and they sought out to get it. They recognized that what they had, they want more for their children. That they will give them the love and support that they deserve and need. It鈥檚 amazing that somewhere along the way, some people realize that something needs to change. And they change it. That they have the strength without even realizing it.

#Responsibilities #Commitments #Strength

I have this saying with some colleagues that 鈥渋t is what it is.鈥� No matter how illogical or unfair something may seem, sometimes it just is what it is, and nothing will change. Sometimes we have to let out a big sigh, pack in our bags, lock our lockers, and walk away from base without saying goodbye to everyone. But sometimes, someone can change something. And they will. And they did. Something that should never happened, won鈥檛 happen again. Sometimes, 鈥渋t is what it is.鈥� And yet sometimes, we challenge that. And we can make a change. And we can stand up for what we believe is right. And we can be strong, and pass along our lessons learned. And sometimes鈥� sometimes, some people do this.

#ItIsWhatItIs #ResLife

Author Ariel Root聽is currently in Kenora in her fourth season working as a forest fire fighter for the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry. 聽She has a BSc in Food Science & Nutrition from 杏吧原创 University in 2012, and is currently a graduate student in the Health Science, Technology and Policy program at 杏吧原创 University. She has been featured on APTN’s new hit TV show, Playing with Fire, Season 2.

Come back for the last instalment of this series next week.

Follow us on聽!

Learning about people is something I鈥檝e come to enjoy. I love hearing their stories. People in this job come from all over, and have all travelled a different path to get onto the same one that you are currently both standing. While some of us grew up in a small town, with three stubborn siblings, two supportive parents, one blue minivan, and a ton of hand-me-downs, others grew up in three different communities, earned two DUI鈥檚, one high school diploma, and saw a parent wither away from a degenerative disease. And yet, here you sit, shoulder to shoulder, with someone who holds no higher or lesser rank than you, on a private plane, to go fight some fire. We are so fortunate to have exposure to many different people, and to use lessons from their stories to reflect on our own.

It鈥檚 so heartbreaking to be woken from a deep sleep in your tent by a negative experience from your crew. To hear their voices raise, and to feel the tension heighten when they come back from late night at base camp that ended with insults and racial slurs.

鈥淣evermind Root, go back to bed.鈥�

鈥淭ell me. What鈥檚 going on.鈥�

鈥淛ust typical. So typical. I鈥檓 sick of this shit. I鈥檝e been dealing with it my whole life, people like him. Comments like that. I鈥檓 just sick of it.鈥�

Racial slurs. With so many other things I鈥檝e learned being in Kenora, racism is one that is new. Serious racism. Is that not a thing of the past yet? Name-calling. Judgment. Disrespect.

鈥淟azy Indians.鈥�

鈥淕o back to the res.鈥�

Judging someone鈥檚 misfortunes. His situation. Her current status.

鈥淗e鈥檚 always posting that political stuff on Facebook.鈥�

鈥淚鈥檓 so sick of hearing his rants.鈥�

Undermining the importance of pride? Disrespecting freedom of individuality or identity development? I completely believe that racism is a learnt behavior and attitude. No one is born with the ability to distinguish and discriminate between skin colours.

鈥淚 wanna write something about racism.鈥�

鈥淥h. That. Well that鈥檚 certainly something to write about鈥�

鈥淲hy do you think it鈥檚 even still around?鈥�

鈥淛ust generations of treating people a certain way. You know what they say, that you aren鈥檛 born with ability to hate. That鈥檚 all taught.鈥�

鈥淚 don鈥檛 really get it. I mean, at the end of the day, you鈥檙e just limiting your ability and opportunities to grow and learn about others and about yourself. It must be exhausting to hate some people all the time鈥�

鈥淲ell. People are afraid.鈥�

鈥淲hat do you mean, 鈥榓fraid鈥�?鈥�

鈥淵ou know that quotation: 鈥楩ear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.鈥� The fear just goes way back, to when Europeans first came here and met us. They were just afraid.鈥�

Regardless of the explanation, it doesn鈥檛 justify the continued behavior. The continued state of mind. The continued judgment. A lot of the racial slurs indicate that First Nations people are lazy, or drunks. Useless contributors to society. Complaining about the past and never moving forward. Using the system to get government money for drugs and alcohol. Laughing at their homeless status.

My first months in Kenora, I was a bit confused on how to feel. Homeless people make me feel uncomfortable鈥攕eeing them outside the grocery store in this small summer-home town was unexpected. I didn鈥檛 know how to respond when my crew would laugh and take pictures of the homeless men hanging out on the shady grass. I wasn鈥檛 sure what do when I walked into the Scotiabank late one night, and a drunk man on a high was catching some zzz鈥檚 under the window sill. And so I turned a blind eye. I ignored it. Hearing the racial slurs on work time, I just ignored it. And then they started to creep into my head. And when I would see people hanging out on that same shaded grass, in my head, I would let out a sigh of exasperation and an eye roll. And when I saw that man, dreaming in the Scotiabank, I walked across the street, and told an OPP officer. And when I was waiting my fourth hour in Emerg for stitches, and I heard the doctor questioning a sobering man what he took, lecturing him on options for how to seek help, I thought 鈥測ou鈥檙e wasting your time.鈥�

It鈥檚 pretty easy to absorb and assume the opinions, observations, and attitudes of the people surrounding you. But accepting a racist stance is not where I came from. I grew up with equality. So racism is a little unnatural. It makes me feel mean. Confrontation is a little unnatural. It makes me feel aggressive. But overcoming racism requires more confrontational people, to say 鈥淗ey, that鈥檚 really rude. Stop saying that.鈥�

It鈥檚 pretty hard to deny your own observations indicating that the majority of the homeless people in Kenora are First Nations; that a lot of the post-bar fights involve someone from the reserve; that pretty much all of the people hanging out on the streets are battling a substance use problem. But, in the science world, what comes after observation? Your study doesn鈥檛 stop there. What about the analysis that follows鈥攈ow you鈥檒l interpret your own, untainted observations, in order to make reliable comparisons.

If racism really is sprouted from fear, then I can understand a bit better why it continues, despite efforts to minimize its presence. Perhaps some people choose to belittle others to feel power or strength. Furthermore, judgment is part of human nature; we rely on it for survival鈥攊s that man trustworthy? Is this food edible? The problems arise when a judgment continues with malicious intent. At this point, the judgment is doing nothing but limiting your opportunities for growth and development.

And so, as I sit, on plane with 99 other tan-shirt, MNRF聽employees, I鈥檒l look around. I鈥檒l ask questions, and I鈥檒l listen. 99 brass tags that represent 99 different stories. Different paths. And here we are, all currently standing on the same one. In a leather seat on a Boeing 737, bound Winnipeg for fuel, then Abbotsford to go work together, shoulder to shoulder, on a BC mountainside.

Author Ariel Root聽is currently in Kenora in her fourth season working as a forest fire fighter for the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry. 聽She has a BSc in Food Science & Nutrition from 杏吧原创 University in 2012, and is currently a graduate student in the Health Science, Technology and Policy program at 杏吧原创 University. She has been featured on APTN’s new hit TV show, Playing with Fire, Season 2.

Come back for next week’s instalment.

Photos by Ariel Root

Follow us on聽!

People have heard that Aboriginal women are four times more likely to be killed than non-Aboriginal women in Canada. That they make up over 25% of the Canadian female homicide victims. That鈥檚 huge. And as expected, there鈥檚 quite a bit of local outrage over the way the Aboriginal Affairs Minister responded, declaring that communities simply need to take greater responsibility for their missing and murdered women. He identified an overall lack of respect for women and girls on reserves, saying that needs to change. RCMP officers identify that 30% of Aboriginal female homicides involve acquaintances of the victim. Where 鈥渁cquaintances鈥� is defined as 鈥渃loser friends, neighbors, authority figures, business relationships, criminal friendships, and people who don鈥檛 fit one of the previous stated categories鈥濃�� aka- anyone and everyone who lives in a small First Nations community, as populations are as low as 600 people. And when you ask people from these communities about the overall health, they鈥檒l say 鈥渙h yeah, well our health is really good these days. I mean, we鈥檙e still technically labeled in a state of emergency, but that鈥檚 just because of those two murder suicides we had last year.鈥� It鈥檚 all something I cannot wrap my head around.

I grew up with two sisters and a brother. A stay home mom who went back to work when the youngest was four. I didn鈥檛 know any hippies, or feminists. But everyone in our household was treated equally. Everyone held the same expectations. No excuses, no exceptions. Turns out, my parents raised three tough girls. So when APTN鈥檚 director of Playing with Fire asked me 鈥淗ow come there aren鈥檛 more women in the fire program?鈥� I was genuinely stumped. I couldn鈥檛 think of a reason why more girls weren鈥檛 participating in the best paying, most enriching and exciting summer job I鈥檇 ever stumbled upon. I think I responded with something like 鈥淚 guess the work can be pretty tough sometimes,鈥� not sounding convinced that my response answered the question at all.

I actually thought about that question for days after the interview, still coming up blank every time. 鈥淗ow come there aren鈥檛 more women in the fire program?鈥� As I looked around, every girl I saw was a strong girl: cutting trail all day with a chainsaw; an adventurous girl: finding treasures in the burn while doing mop up; an independent girl: leading her team of boys through the forest and to safety. It took me a while to realize that I am constantly surrounded by the same type of girl. Few and far between are the girls in my life who hate bugs. Who need their luxuries. Who don鈥檛 want to work hard. Who don鈥檛 see the point in needing to keep up or wanting to be one of the boys. I am so fortunate to be constantly surrounded by strong, empowered, and independent women.

I was a female rookie crewmember, along side another female rookie crewmember. Sometimes I wonder how my crew leader and crew boss felt that year, knowing they would be training and fighting fire with two girls in their early twenties. I鈥檝e worked alongside a few different girls in the program since, and can honestly say, I鈥檝e yet to meet one who works as hard as we did in that first year, always striving to bust the image of two weak, useless female rookies. It was completely our own prerogative, and maybe a bit of unspoken competition between us, but regardless the reason, we both have stuck around the program, and have both assumed roles of respected deadly women on base.

So when I hear about these headlines, of missing and murdered women, my brain does not compute. While some people feel anger, or disgust, confusion, indifference, embarrassment鈥� I feel disbelief. I鈥檓 baffled. Speechless. Numb. I don鈥檛 understand why this is happening. Where are all the deadly women, who are standing up for what they believe? Who are being treated and know that they deserve the same respect as every man surrounding them? I don鈥檛 understand how the Minister of Aboriginal Affairs can wave a hand and conclude that it鈥檚 all part of the intergenerational violence and trauma portrait. How does that justify this continued behavior? If we can鈥檛 rid of excess violence and maltreatment of women, we should be focusing our attention on empowerment, no? I don鈥檛 understand how my federal government can say that an inquiry into the number of missing and murdered Indigenous women is something that they aren鈥檛 interested in. In a nation that claims to support and promote equality, does that statement not completely disregard the pretenses for equal treatment?

At the end of the day, I understand that no amount of collected stats that quantify the frequency of missing or murdered women will control its occurrence. And I understand that intergenerational violence and trauma, and learned behavior are factors that will never be eliminated by a snap of someone鈥檚 fingers. But I would like to see more empowerment. More strong female role models, representing our gender as independent and unbreakable. Who aren鈥檛 afraid to speak their minds, stand up for their beliefs, and kick some ass.

I鈥檇 like to call on all deadly women. It鈥檚 time to step up and represent. It鈥檚 time to demand respect and honour. Not because we need a movement, or a parade. Just because we need to remember that women are strong, capable, independent, and amazing. Because sometimes we forget this. Because we all need someone in our lives who inspires us to run a little faster, jump a little higher, and work a little harder. So that when I ask 鈥渨hat鈥檚 the deal with all the missing First Nations women,鈥� I can鈥檛 wait to hear someone tell me 鈥測eah, those were messed-up times.鈥� And when I get asked, 鈥渉ow come there aren鈥檛 more women in the fire program?鈥� I can鈥檛 wait respond with a furrowed brow, confused look, and say 鈥渨hat do you mean?鈥�

Author Ariel Root聽is currently in Kenora in her fourth season working as a forest fire fighter for the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry. 聽She has a BSc in Food Science & Nutrition from 杏吧原创 University in 2012, and is currently a graduate student in the Health Science, Technology and Policy program at 杏吧原创 University. She has been featured on APTN’s new hit TV show, Playing with Fire, Season 2.

Come back for next week’s instalment.

Photos by Ariel Root

Follow us on聽!

There鈥檚 something about this job that keeps everyone鈥檚 age at par. Perhaps because despite your age, you bear the same expectations as everyone else. You will be working outside, all day, every day. You will sweat, and work hard, and test your limits, every day. You will sleep outside, under the stars, with only crickets and loons to soothe you to sleep. When you are working on the line, you will wake up early, everyday, with a personal lake view; one that is completely still, and consumed by complete silence. And almost always, you will be waking up someplace that no one has ever been before. Watching the sun rise and set, every day. It鈥檚 easy to forget that while some people sit in traffic for 45 minutes, listening to the same radio show, you will sit in a helicopter for 45 minutes, listening to the rotor blades carry you up and across a bed of smoke, while the sun is still yawning across the morning horizon. Sometimes, it is a bit of a dream world鈥擭everland.

Sometimes it鈥檚 a bit of a trap; once you get in, you never want to leave. Staying in shape, working with awesome people, training outside, discovering your strengths, exploring new training sites, learning new forest floors鈥攕miling, laughing, and playing all day, keeping us feeling and looking young. Going back to school was a challenge鈥攖he sitting, the noise, the rush. I felt stressed, all the time. My schedule was packed; every minute, of every day. My mind was always full. I felt like I was routinely staring at the ground, making sure I didn鈥檛 trip over scheduled meetings, appointments or obligations. I was forgetting to smile and laugh; to have fun and recharge. It was so easy to get caught up in my head, I was forgetting HOW to have fun. It鈥檚 so easy to wake up, sit, work, eat, work, sit, work, eat, sleep. It鈥檚 so easy to get caught in that loop, and live a sedentary life.

And I think that鈥檚 just it. A sedentary life is so easy. Recent criticisms and publications attribute historically unheard of health problems developing in First Nations communities to lifestyle changes. Specifically, obesity, diabetes, and cardiovascular disease are being associated with insufficient levels of physical activity. These publications blame recent deviations from 鈥渢raditional lifestyles鈥�, declaring that Aboriginal people traditionally led healthy, active lifestyles, regularly incorporating hunting, fishing, canoeing, lacrosse, wrestling, etc.鈥攖hat the loss of this traditional lifestyle is directly responsible for decreased physical activity, thereby impacting overall health and well-being. Especially at risk, apparently, are Aboriginal youth, as their adopted sedentary lives are putting their entire population at risk.

Is this connection not a bit extreme? I鈥檓 just not sure I believe that increased health problems due to sedentary lifestyles are strictly observed in First Nations populations. Is there not an increased tendency to adopt this lifestyle across the country? Across the continent? Is it really necessary to point out this trend in one particular population?

A beautiful woman I rented from one summer is fostering a 14-year old boy from Wabigoon, as well as a 13-year old girl from Shoal Lake. He loves video games. He loves meeting up with his friends online, and playing with them in the comfort of his basement. He likes the skate park and the basketball courts鈥� for about 20 minutes. Then would prefer to be engulfed in the tranquility of the basement. She, however, loves soccer. And baseball. And basketball. She鈥檚 always involved in this, and committed to that. She plays every instrument imaginable. He鈥檚 been in Kenora for over 8-years. She had been in Shoal Lake for over 8-years. I can鈥檛 say I see or believe that there is a higher frequency of sedentary lifestyles in First Nations populations compared to any other part of the nation. Are those choices not directly influenced and shaped by our environments?

Irrespective of their ethnic background, more people are choosing to drive to work, instead of bike; choosing to station in front of a computer, instead of outside; choosing to connect and bond virtually, instead of genuinely. It鈥檚 so easy to get trapped in a sedentary routine, and I do agree, that something should change. I just don鈥檛 think that this change is only for First Nations populations鈥擨 think we all need to reconnect with our environment: get outside, and remember how to play.

A wise, young boy once told us to never grow up鈥攖hat it鈥檚 a trap. Having somehow, at some point, stumbled into adulthood, I鈥檓 not sure I fully agree. Rather, I would say to always check in, and make sure that you get that daily dose of fresh air, infectious smiles, and inspiring surroundings. And so, what would you say if Peter Pan were to ask, 鈥淲ould you like an adventure now, or would you like to have your tea first?鈥�

Author Ariel Root聽is currently in Kenora in her fourth season working as a forest fire fighter for the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry. 聽She has a BSc in Food Science & Nutrition from 杏吧原创 University in 2012, and is currently a graduate student in the Health Science, Technology and Policy program at 杏吧原创 University. She has been featured on APTN’s new hit TV show, Playing with Fire, Season 2.

Come back for next week’s instalment.

Photos by Ariel Root

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This question prompts one response: chew o鈥檆lock. My crew member will start packing his tin, and I鈥檒l grab a Bandit pouch from mine. One hand on the steering wheel, the other on my dip bottle, I shake my head 鈥攚hen did this happen? Having been taught the risks associated with smoking and drinking at a young age, I can remember crying after seeing my dad smoke a celebratory cigar once, thinking he would soon die of lung cancer. So when did I start chewing tobacco, and why?

In fact, the answer to both of those questions is neither complex, nor hidden. The first time I packed a dip of Beechnut was on a firefighting tour in Montana, because my crew boss simply asked 鈥淗ey Root, what time is it?鈥� It wasn鈥檛 initiation, or peer pressure, but it meant I was one of the guys. It was a bonding experience. I never felt like I had to, or that if I took the dip out, I would be ridiculed. I never felt like I would lose their respect if I stopped. It was after lunch, on the side of an American mountain, when I simply had nothing to lose in saying 鈥渃hew o鈥檆lock鈥� and packed a big lipper to bond a little bit more with the boys.

Crew Chew

It was the same thought process one night on tour. I was walking back to my tent after dinner, and I got the upward head nod, requesting my attention.

鈥淵ou wanna come for a walk later?鈥�

A pause. And a look, straight into my eyes. This wasn鈥檛 an offer to be turned down. I had nothing to lose.

The five of us walked shoulder-to-shoulder, hands in our pockets, 40-minutes down the dirt road away from camp. The sun was settling down for the night, and the cool air was moving in. Coyotes yelped at each other in the distance. It was obvious that he who invited me out, the eldest, was our alpha. When he stopped, we stopped. When he talked, we listened. We all knew that he was our unspoken pack leader. His stories were captivating, not because of the content, but the way in which he spoke. He spoke in a series of images. Short fragments of vivid memories that he relived. We would walk and stare straight into the story he was painting, feeling his fear, confusion, or excitement. A short bit of dialogue. Pause. Some hand motions to outline figures. Pause. Adjectives and adverbs to fill in the painting. And we would continue to walk.

I鈥檓 not sure if it was the sweet evening air, or the fatigue from long work days, but I remained completely silent. Just listening. Of the entire 20 rangers we were working with, only five of us went for this evening walk, and I was one of them. Listening in on the stories. Reaping the benefits of the lessons. And bonding with boys. The smell of burning sweet grass filed our lungs, the shape of experiences guided our visions, and the alpha led us down his painted trails.

I started to think about where I was. What I was doing. Who I was with. I was thinking about my environment. We often hear about the influence of our social environment on overall health鈥攅xperienced levels of support, guidance, and connectedness. The availability of your parents celebrating your successes, the impact of your peers encouraging risky behaviours, or the personal desire to create a certain self-image鈥攚e鈥檝e all felt the influence of our social environment. While we know that some social environment elements can be detrimental to our health, and professionals prove time and time again why they are bad for us, we still see higher rates of smoking and alcohol consumption in First Nations populations. I鈥檓 sure this fact remains maddening. But let鈥檚 not forget the importance of culture.

My young and eager crew member was trying to quit smoking at the beginning of the fire season, seeking help from an e-cigarette. With people around him constantly offering a smoke, he quickly accepted his submission to the real thing. So when we were packing to leave on tour, he asked me how many packs of cigarettes he should bring.

鈥淏ring a carton. You鈥檙e going to need them,鈥� I said.

That鈥檚 200 cigarettes for 19 days.

People outside of the program don鈥檛 understand this. 鈥淛ust use the lack of accessibility to cigarettes to stop smoking. You don鈥檛 have them, you won鈥檛 smoke them.鈥�

鈥� But you will. That鈥檚 the problem. There are enough smokers in the program, that I鈥檝e seen guys hike kilometers through the bush to meet up with people who have smokes. As ironic as it may seem, smoking is part of the culture in the fire program. You鈥檙e not always lighting up a cigarette for the addiction or the coping鈥攊t鈥檚 for the socializing, the bonding, the sharing. It鈥檚 easy for anyone outside the fire program to stand there, arms crossed, head shaking, foot tapping, and criticize how it鈥檚 ridiculous that so many firefighters smoke cigarettes, and question why they can鈥檛 use lack of accessibility in the bush as the perfect opportunity to kick the dirty awful habit.

Similarly, it鈥檚 simple for someone in southern Ontario, to read statistics all day, roll his eyes, and shake his head, and conclude that First Nations populations have higher rates of cigarette smoking and alcohol consumption, and that their social environment is negatively impacting overall health. But it must be understood and accepted that often these habits are not simply chosen habits due to teenage peer pressure, or acts of rebellion鈥攖hey are chosen because they are normal. It鈥檚 part of bonding with elders. It鈥檚 part of the culture. It鈥檚 part of story and wisdom sharing.

Those evening walks, walking shoulder-to-shoulder. The sweet air filling our bodies. The cool, stale air wrapping our skin. There I was; socks and flip flops, Giant Tiger sweatpants, and a ratty 杏吧原创 U sweatshirt. Completely silent, listening, watching, and reflecting; I was one of the guys.

Author Ariel Root聽is currently in Kenora in her fourth season working as a forest fire fighter for the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry. 聽She has a BSc in Food Science & Nutrition from 杏吧原创 University in 2012, and is currently a graduate student in the Health Science, Technology and Policy program at 杏吧原创 University. She has been featured on APTN’s new hit TV show, Playing with Fire, Season 2.

Come back for next week’s instalment.

Photos by Ariel Root

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I remember driving through town in my first year with my crew when a public announcement was broadcasted on the radio. It was about Residential schools. 鈥淲hat鈥檚 this all about.鈥� I had no idea. My crewmember started to explain it to me. A partnership between the Canadian government and the churches supported the removal of First Nations children from their families to Residential schools. Children were taken from their homes. Boys鈥� hair was cut short. Their clothes were mainstreamed. They were banned from practicing their home language or cultural practices. The severity of physical or sexual abuse varied.

鈥淢y mom remembers being scolded for saying 鈥榥imaanendam鈥� when she didn鈥檛 understand what the teacher was asking her. But other people won鈥檛 talk about the schools at all.鈥�

The system strived to strip the unique culture from the children.

鈥淎nd they were successful鈥攖hink about all that knowledge and all those traditions that are gone… they can鈥檛 pass any of it down to us because they don鈥檛 know any of it anymore. So we lose it. It鈥檚 just鈥� gone.鈥�

We continued to drive downtown Kenora.

鈥淎nd so you always hear people look down on the homeless or drunk Indians in town, but can you blame them? If their parents were abused in school by supposed superiors, and developed a substance abuse problem, then had their own children, how can they be supportive and successful parents, when they struggle to take care of themselves?鈥�

There鈥檚 more to substance abuse than just the addiction to the feeling. It鈥檚 the coping. The conditioning. The necessity.

鈥淚 know a man that drove to Calgary for his settlement. He didn鈥檛 want anyone he knew to hear his case.鈥�

The Indian Residential School Settlement Agreement attempts to price reconciliation. How can you really price complete loss of knowledge or culture? What is the price of revisiting and refreshing the memories of such pain?

鈥淪ome people say that the memories are too painful to revisit in front of a courtroom of people鈥� the money isn鈥檛 worth the cost of reliving those memories.鈥�

I鈥檝e only started to ask, learn and understand the repercussions and effects from such a shameful historical event, though it鈥檚 given me a greater appreciation for peoples鈥� inner warriors. Those warriors: persisting to fight for what they believe, whether it be traditional or adopted knowledge and practice. A friend of mine disallowed his son from cutting his hair, despite schoolmates mocking him for having 鈥済irls鈥� hair鈥攈is culture was to wear his black hair long. So my friend proudly grew his hair long again as well鈥攈e is supporting his culture. I met an elderly man at the Kenora library. I was always envious of his black fox fur, deerskin, beaded gloves he bought handmade from his community. He once told me to never go to a Pow Wow鈥攊nappropriate things happen there. Bad things, he said. He was a Christian. That was his culture.

Culture is not an outlined set of specifications or requirements. It鈥檚 not a definition of certain songs, practices, or beliefs. A person鈥檚 culture is derived from a collection of experiences, choices, and goals, irrespective of skin colour, or born label. While parts of someone鈥檚 specific culture may be lost, or forgotten, culture is always being rewritten, fine-tuned, tweaked, and regrown. It鈥檚 amazing how people can be so broken down, yet the smallest flicker of light remaining from within can support and strengthen regrowth.

Regeneration of a forest after a fire can sometimes take years. It will never look exactly the same as it did originally, but the components are all there鈥攂rilliant green foliage, intertwined woods and fibers, unique layout. In fact, the growing season following a forest fire supports some new species, like morels and blueberries 鈥� new additions that strengthen the ecosystem. One thing that never fails to amaze me is how quickly regeneration begins after destruction. When you look hard enough, you鈥檒l spot it; green will poke through the charred, blackened earth only days after a fire has stripped the land of everything it can. Despite robbing beauty and life, there are some things a fire will never be able to take from the land: persistence, resilience, and strength.

Author Ariel Root聽is currently in Kenora in her fourth season working as a forest fire fighter for the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry. 聽She has a BSc in Food Science & Nutrition from 杏吧原创 University in 2012, and is currently a graduate student in the Health Science, Technology and Policy program at 杏吧原创 University. She has been featured on APTN’s new hit TV show, Playing with Fire, Season 2.

Come back for next week’s instalment.

Photos by Ariel Root

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There鈥檚 something a little extra delicious about a barbequed meal and a cold beer on the deck after returning home from a fire-fighting tour. Our crew just finished a 19-day tour in Lac la Biche district in Alberta. We were working on a fire near Cold Lake that grew to 10 000 ha in less than 4 days in the absence of wind鈥攊t was dry, and the fuels were ready to burn. Fire behavior predictions foreshadowed lots of work, long days, and short sleeps.

The Alberta government set up a base camp (trailers for a kitchen, diner, bathroom, logistics, radio ops, etc.), and we set up our tents. Everyday on tour is unpredictable鈥攚hat you鈥檒l see, what you鈥檒l accomplish, when you鈥檒l be going home. A small change in observed weather throughout the day can either increase or suppress fire behaviour, movement, and growth. Despite the abundant unknowns, I鈥檓 a creature of habit, and try to create as much of a daily routine as possible for the things I can control.

4:54 am: Alarm goes off.
5:15 am: Morning jog down the basecamp road
5:57 am: Wait in line for breakfast
5:59 am: Grab a bagged lunch

The bagged lunch. Of all the elements and difficulties you face on a daily basis while on tour, the bagged lunch can really be a morale booster or breaker. Looking in your bagged lunch before you get to the line can be destructive, because you KNOW there is going to be a white bread ham sandwich in there, and that鈥檚 a day-killer that you just don鈥檛 need at 6:00am (or if you鈥檙e 鈥渓ucky鈥�, it鈥檒l be a white bread peanut butter and butter sandwich). It鈥檚 not wet feet, bug bites, sleep deprivation, or diminished cigarettes that warrant daily complaints; it鈥檚 the white bread ham sandwiches.

On average, the bagged lunch consists of: 3 white bread ham, cheese, and butter sandwiches; one apple; one orange; one dessert square; two juice boxes; and, if you choose to grab one, a bag of chips. It might be immature. It might be selfish. But when you have a daily 30-minute walk through knee-deep muskeg to get to a 20-minute hike through dusty, sooty, burn, and your face is covered in black ash, your B.O. is unrecognizable, and your shin chafe starts to bleed, the last thing you want to pull out of your bagged lunch is a white bread ham sandwich.

By day 8, you鈥檙e pretty vocal about how much you hate sandwiches. By day 10, you鈥檙e pretty sure you cannot eat another sandwich. By day 14 you鈥檝e boycotted sandwiches, and have started hoarding granola bars to get you through the day. Day 14. That鈥檚 two weeks.

Let鈥檚 think about this for a minute. Ham, cheese, and butter sandwiches seem to be a fireline base-camp go to鈥攚hy? Because they鈥檙e cheap and easy to make. When there are over 300 people to feed by a staff of 10, you can鈥檛 expect anything much fancier. Now think about northern semi-remote districts in Ontario, like Armstrong, or Pickle Lake, and the price of supporting over 200 rangers, where food prices are already outrageous for locals. Should the Ministry be responsible for supporting gourmet meals for the duration of rangers鈥� stay?

Food is expensive. Food preparation is timely. Exciting meal planning and development requires knowledge. Despite education, it鈥檚 surprising how quickly we become bored of eating the same, affordable meals all the time, and how quickly we become drawn to grabbing that bag of chips, or trying to score an extra dessert square. Food quickly becomes a comforting item on fire, as it is for so many people outside of fire.

We know that obesity rates are high among First Nations people. We know that food prices in remote communities are ridiculous. And so we know that the price and practicality to eat healthy is affecting obesity rates. But an underrepresented factor is the availability of variety. While we know that, yes, variety is limited and affects some remote and semi-remote areas, each day that I had a white bread ham sandwich, I was reminded how quickly you become bored of plain food, and how important it is to seek variety in order to continue making healthy choices.

I am aware of the importance of fueling my body with healthy, hearty fuels, and so sometimes I have to remind myself to eat for the nutrients, not the comfort or enjoyment鈥攂ut what happens when people aren鈥檛 as aware of the importance in making healthy decisions regularly? What about those who aren鈥檛 aware that they are making unhealthy decisions? What about those who don鈥檛 know what a healthy decision is? Considering all these questions, why on earth would someone continue to eat the white bread ham sandwich when they can grab an extra bag of BBQ chips, a Pepsi, and a dark chocolate Mounds bar every day instead?

It鈥檚 important to realize that it鈥檚 not a divide; it鈥檚 not that First Nations people are always choosing unhealthy food options, and white people are saints when it comes to eating鈥攖rust me, I know that鈥檚 not true. But there鈥檚 a point to be made as we KNOW that food options are limited in northern remote and semi-remote communities, and that prices are high. If we want to truly make healthy options more available, it鈥檚 not enough to subsidize prices; it鈥檚 not enough to add more lettuce and peppers to the shelves. We need to revisit the importance of variety. Options. Explanations. Mentality. Being part of an individual鈥檚 built environment, improving overall diet is a complex task; not one that will ever have a simple answer or solution.

6:00am: Switch out 95% of my bagged lunch items with food I scavenged and stowed from dinner the night before.
6:03am: Get changed and gear up for the day
6:25am: Head to the bus, bagged lunch in hand, and get ready for another day鈥檚 work on LWF-122.

Author Ariel Root聽is currently in Kenora in her fourth season working as a forest fire fighter for the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry. 聽She has a BSc in Food Science & Nutrition from 杏吧原创 University in 2012, and is currently a graduate student in the Health Science, Technology and Policy program at 杏吧原创 University. She has been featured on APTN’s new hit TV show, Playing with Fire, Season 2.

Come back for next week’s instalment.

Photos by Ariel Root

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Since that fire, I鈥檝e always gravitated towards using my personal tent. Once crews have establish a camp, they have the option of ordering a big canvas tent that can sleep all four crew members: a prospector tent. Anytime that talk of using a prospector comes up, I always say 鈥測ou guys can, but I鈥檒l stick to my personal.鈥� Until this year. KEN005. An April spring fire. Temperatures were hovering around 0^oC at night, with predictions of snow on its way. So we ordered a prospector. And there we lay. Four adults. Sleeping, snoring, and sleep talking in the same tent. Snug as a bug in a rug. I actually enjoyed it. Despite the lack of privacy, I got to bond with my crew; story telling, and wisdom sharing. It was surprisingly nice to be housed with the boys for a few nights.

Some of these luxuries we鈥檝e learned to take for granted. I don鈥檛 think that any ranger initially thinks of a prospector as a luxury. But there鈥檚 that feeling that my tent is my safe place. That I have privacy and protection from the elements. That I can snuggle in and find warmth come morning. That I have defenses against the environment. That at the end of my time on the fire line, I get to go home, to my house, take a bath, and lay down in a comfy bed. That I have a place to call home.

One of the most striking things about Kenora is the homeless population of First Nations people living on the downtown streets. Despite the time of year, homeless people hang around the No Frills, stumble into the library, and wander around the streets. The majority of these people are often battling their own personal challenges with substance abuse, mental illness, or physical impairment. Despite asking many people, I鈥檓 still unclear as to why the homeless population is so high. I鈥檝e heard that within the past decade, more residents from nearby communities are coming into town. I鈥檝e also heard that overcrowded housing on reserve land is a growing concern. Multiple generations living in small housing, with improper ventilation, and insufficient building materials is negatively impacting physical respiratory health, and potentially impacting overall mental health鈥攚here鈥檚 that safe, individual reflection time? Overcrowding is said to be a occurring聽because of insufficient housing, but sometimes I get the impression that intergenerational housing is a cultural norm. When I graduated high school, my mother didn鈥檛 seem to blink twice at giving me the boot out the door, telling me that I could come back if I NEEDED to live there, but we would have to discuss the terms and conditions. I don鈥檛 get the 鈥渟ink or swim鈥� vibe from the Ojibway culture. Shoomis will assume the role of main breadwinner if needed. Kookum will help the Namama take care of her new baby. No questions asked. So while overcrowding may be in part due to insufficient housing, I think there鈥檚 also a cultural aspect playing its part here.

Irrespective of聽the exact reasons, the reality of an increasing population of homelessness in Kenora persists. While new eyes see this as a major problem, you can see why the same eyes on a growing problem are tired of coming up blank on the drawing board for attempting to implement solutions. While locals who drive around town and enjoy the comfort of their home will readily point their finger and roll their eyes at the people who are homeless, how can we expect soldiers fighting personal battles to integrate themselves into the complex and daunting procedures of homeownership, with little or no skill development on seeking employment or housing?

Every winter the city of Kenora strives to provide housing for all those who don鈥檛 have a house to stay in. But that鈥檚 just it鈥攖hey鈥檙e providing a house. How can we start building an environment to hone the personal skills required to provide and sustain these populations with homes鈥攁 place where they can go at night, lay down on their bed, take 10 deep breaths and think 鈥測ou can do this, you can get through this.鈥�

Author Ariel Root聽is currently in Kenora in her fourth season working as a forest fire fighter for the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry. 聽She has a BSc in Food Science & Nutrition from 杏吧原创 University in 2012, and is currently a graduate student in the Health Science, Technology and Policy program at 杏吧原创 University. She has been featured on APTN’s new hit TV show, Playing with Fire, Season 2.

Photos by Ariel Root

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