Learn about Debbie Michelin's childhood, cultural connections, personal journey to becoming a policy advisor for the federal government on Inuit welfare, and her journey to learn how to draw as an Elder.
Debbie Michelin is interviewed by Brittany Janes in this heartfelt, emotional discussion. Michelin shares her childhood memories, including spending time on the land and the importance of traditional activities. She discusses her education and the challenges of fitting into the traditional school system. She highlights the importance of community and the need to find ways to connect with each other beyond technology.
Michelin also talks about her recent interest in drawing and reflects on the importance of finding joy in creative pursuits and the therapeutic value of art. She emphasizes the importance of self-esteem and the value of finding mentors and support systems.
Michelin continues to discuss the importance of preserving cultural legends and the lessons they teach. She reflects on the role of elders in passing on cultural knowledge and the need to keep traditions alive. Michelin emphasizes the importance of community and the need to find ways to connect with each other beyond technology.
Tune in for an inspiring conversation that honors the voices of the past while empowering the leaders of tomorrow.
For accessibility, transcripts are available for all interviews.
Check out the Program Website here: Timeless Voices
Music. Welcome to Timeless Voices. These interviews were recorded in July 2024. In this piece, you'll hear Brittany Janes interview Debbie Michelin. Debbie is an Inuk singer and drum dancer who is 63 years old. We spoke to Debbie at the Labrador Friendship Center. Debbie's mother was born in Indian Harbour and Debbie summered in Winters Cove between Happy Valley-Goose Bay and Rigolet. First a warning, Debbie talks about her experience with the loss of her child, this may be triggering to listeners. Please take care when listening and anyone can call 811, for mental health support.
Oh, well, I started school in North Star Elementary School down on Hamilton River Road. There's an old building down there, that's where I first went to school. And actually this old, this friendship center used to be the old Anglican school when I was a little girl, I went to school in this building, before it was all renovated. We had a little wood stove in our classroom, and yeah, I was like, Grade one, Grade two in this old Anglican school before I moved on to Peacock. And then I went to Goose High School and graduated from Goose High School back in 19, How old am I? I don't even remember here in the 70s. I loved my childhood. Had a great childhood, played a lot of sports in school. My mom was from the north coast of Labrador so I spent my childhood out on the land, traveling by dog team, picking berries, eating birds, you know, eating the fish, eating the seals and yeah, we lived every summer, all summer long, out on the land. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the peace and serenity of being out on the land. And, you know, spending time alone. I had my little favorite play place out on the land and stuff. So it was quite good, actually. Yeah, no, it was amazing. We used to go to a place in the spring of year called Tikaraluk. My uncles had a cabin there, so we would go down in the spring of the year, and we would travel by dog team to tikaraluk. And when I was a little girl, we lived over on Birch Island. First few years of my life, we had a little dog called Mohi Was a husky dog. It was like my auntie had the husky dog named Mohi, and he would pull us around on dog sled. It was beautiful. I lived over on Birch Island first. So I was when we came over to Goose Bay when I was five. So I would, you know, my first five years of my life were over on Birch Island, and then we came over here. So it was when we were young. Yeah, it was, you know, just four or five years old. But I remember it, and I remember that dog, because I use that dog's name in all my everywhere, like it just, I have great memories of that dog.
How was your life different in them days?
Well, we didn't have any cell phones, you know, we would go out and play, and we would stay out all day long, all night long. You couldn't go into pee because we went into pee, had to stay in for the night. So he would stay out for as long as you could and play outside. We played a lot of outdoor games. You know, they would play like we'd have flashlights. We tried to find each other in the dark and just find ways of being creative, like just always playing outside. We had between, I lived on Grenfell Street, and the next street over there was a big sand pit, and we used to always play ball like the Catholic kids on, what's that street of Markland. And us, we would have a big old ball game. We played a lot of softball. When I moved over here, marbles, jump rope. We just found so many different ways to use ourselves. Like you know.
How did you get to school?
Walk, winter, summer, spring, fall. We used to have to walk from way down there in the Grenfell all the way to Peacock. Then we'd have to walk back home for lunch, go back home again. And I mean, it was mine, it could be minus 40. We never got a day off school ever, like we never got a storm day. It could be a blizzard. You couldn't even see each other walking to school, and you still had to go to Yeah, still had to go to school. I was down the end of Grenfell, but we were too close to get a bus, so we always had to walk. So yeah, it was treacherous some days. We found a few shortcuts through the woods, but we got there. I think I made it through school because I played a lot of sports I really didn't like school. I was very artistic, I think, very creative at a young age. And didn't know that I was artistic and creative. I remember I got caught one time writing a poem in English class, and my teacher made fun of me because I had written a poem and she was standing was standing behind me, I didn't know, and she made me read it out to the whole class. I was so embarrassed, and so I didn't do well well in school. I repeated Grade 11 because it just didn't feel like it fit for me. I just I wasn't sure, like, you know, and I couldn't do well with math, and so I struggled, but I got to play a lot of sports, and I traveled outside of Goose Bay for sports, and I really think playing sports saved me when it came to high school, middle school and high school, yeah, wasn't an easy time, but I managed to get my Grade 11, so that made me happy. The way school is structured is not for everyone, like I said, it was a struggle for me. It wasn't until I got out of school and did other things. Did other things with my life that I found what I was meant to be doing. I think my Miss, Miss Urquhart, which is still, she's still living here in Goose Bay, she saved my life in terms of sports, because she kind of took me under her wing, and, you know, got me engaged in sports. And as I got older, I used to babysit for her children and stuff. So of all my teachers, she's the one I remember most of my gym teachers, but of her specifically, because she got me into, like, intramural sports, and then got me into teams that I could get on so I could travel. And I remember first time I ever left Labrador. I got we went to, I went to St John's Newfoundland, and I had never been outside of Labrador, and we had gone to a Kentucky Fried Chicken and there was a big mannequin of, you know, the old Colonel Sanders. I thought he was real. I said, Oh my God, it's the colonel. I said, Let me out. I jumped out of the car and ran into the Kentucky Fried Chicken right up to the colonel. It's like it wasn't real. I thought it was a real person, right? Oh my god, Colonel. Anyway, it was funny. I had to appreciate it. The first time I got a shower on a school trip, we went, when we were in St John's, we didn't have a shower at home, so I didn't know you had to put the shower curtain in the tub. Of course, I showered, and the curtain was outside the tub, and I flooded this poor lady's whole bathroom. I was so embarrassed. But how would you know if you don't know, you know? So yeah, playing sports, getting to travel, you know feeling that sense of being on a team, I guess. And it was. Really what saved me? I think even one person believing in me, one mentor that thought that I could do something, that kind of took me under her wing, really, I think that she saved me in a lot of ways so.
What is your culture?
So I grew up in the Inuit culture. I'm Inuit. I bought some items. I know it's an audio show, so you can't really see them on the on the audio. But I brought my silipak. I had this made for a show that I did in Montreal, and we'll talk about that a little later on. But this is my silipak that I had made. Was made by a woman named Jane Gear. I brought these, these my grandma Shuglo Slippers. These are over 100 years old, and my grandma passed, I inherited those. They're made of caribou height, and she only wore them on Christmas Day. And I had a beautiful, I have a beautiful headpiece in Halifax, but my friend has borrowed it. So I did bring this one, but this is my headpiece that I use when I drum. I do some drumming out of Halifax. I'm actually I've just moved home from Halifax, which I had been living in the last off and on for quite a few years, between Halifax and New Brunswick. So these are some of my items that I brought. So, yeah, my culture, like I said, for me, the culture is the land, the food, you know, the berries, the fish, the seals, just living, living the life that we lived. You know, Inuit we talk about Inuit ways of being. You know, there's a beautiful book. I can't say it in English, but it's called the IQ principles, and I can't see the word because I don't speak in it. My grandfather spoke Inuit, and it talks about the Inuit principles, and what those are, and how we are in the world as Inuit, and how we perceive each other, and how we behave towards each other, you know. So I'm learning a lot more about that. Even though I had left home and I had these principles, I didn't know what they were, you know, like that, I had been living them until I learned what they were, and I'm like, Oh, I've always lived like that. So, yeah.
What do you do in your culture?
Well, where do I begin with that? I grew up around many singer songwriters. I became a writer, writing poems and prose at a young age, and then I became a songwriter, and I recorded an album back in 2005 and I got nominated for an East Coast Music Award and for best female artists at the Canadian Aboriginal Musical Awards for my first album called Spirits Dance. And the songs are all songs about the land, about Labrador, about our people growing up on the land, who we are. I guess kind of my theme song is 'Home is Who I Am.' And I wrote the song about where I was born, North West River, Labrador and yeah, so here you go.
*Singing* I was born beside the river one warm mid summer day where the river meets the ocean and your cares are washed away. I can still recall the summers with the beauty of the sun, when the days would last forever and our lives had just begun.
*Talking* So I expressed my culture through my writing. They used to call me the Cajun Inuk when I recorded my album, because I wanted accordion and fiddle on all my songs. Because, you know, everybody played, you know, growing up, and I spent my summers, of course, on the land, but we used to go into Rigolet a lot. So we would always, I would always go to the square dances in Rigolet and, you know, step dance, or step her down, to the fiddle music and stuff with accordion. So I wanted that on all my songs. And the producers, like, you can't have accordion and fiddle on every song, but I wanted to, so, you know, I express it through my music. Part of a drum group out of Halifax. We have an Inuit group called Atelihai Inuit. We're about 500 Inuit in Halifax and all around the Maritimes. And I'm the chair of the Atelihai Inuit board out there. So I'm part of that drum group. So we drummed last summer for the Indigenous games, the World Indigenous games. We drum for many, many, many, many things on the Halifax waterfront. So I do a lot of drumming. I haven't been since I've been back. What else do I do? I haven't been out on the land since my dad passed because mom sold our cabin. I used to go every year, but we don't get to go much anymore. So that's sad. When my dad was still living for the last 25-30 years, I would go every summer for six weeks, and, you know, pick the berries and eat the birds, eat the fish and eat the eggs. And I would go home and lay on the land, lay my face on the peat moss. Oh, my God. Mom used to say, what are you doing? I'm just smelling the berries. I lived a lot of years in Ottawa, and people don't realize, like, the thing about Inuit people is we can't take our land with us, like we can't take all the smells with us. When you go south, you know, and you're living in Ottawa by a river, it's not the same as being out on the land. You could smell the lake and moss and the berries and the salty air, like they just don't get it.
How did the way you were raised shape who you are?
I think I have a lot of peace and serenity in my life. Today that comes from my mom being raised Inuit, my dad's Inuit, too, learning to amuse myself at an early age, like being very comfortable with solitude and spending time to myself, by myself, and just getting so much strength from the land, like where I grew up and my people. And, you know, knowing who I am and where I come from, and who my people are. Like that, to me, is crucial. Like as an Indigenous person, the first thing people say are is, who are you and who are your people? Where do you come from, right? How are you known to people? Yeah, so, like I said, being out on the land, the comforts of being on the land, the comforts of being in community, being with family, you know, living a traditional life, it was all about family. It was all about community. It was all about togetherness. It was all about caring for your elders. It was all about just respect for the elders. And even today, I'm, you know, I'm 63 my mom's 86 Well, I'm telling you, I'm my mom's caregiver, and I'm doing that for her because she cared for me. And, you know, I do that out of respect and love for her, because that's what I was taught
Through the years, what's been the biggest change you've seen?
I think for me, I mean, change has happened so fast, you know, like cell phones, technology, iPads, computers, all those things. Like, I I still don't really know how to use my computer my, you know, my nephew's computer science tech guy, and I'm always messaged him and he gets so upsetting. Andy, I told you a million times, it's not upload, it's download, but I just have no concept. Like, of you know, I tried to get on a meeting the other day because I walked through with this group and oh my god, I couldn't even figure out how to, like, get on this work program or something. I'm like, I'm retired now. I don't have any sense of that, so it's a different world for me. And because I've been retired for many years now, I don't see it as a part of my world much. I try to engage as little as possible in terms of the technological stuff. I think that, I wish there was a way that we could instill values in our youth today, the values that we had. Find a way to do that, because I think so much is getting lost, you know, in the technology. My little niece and nephew were here this week from L'Anse au Loup, and they're two and five. And I mean, those kids can operate iPads, they can operate, you know, cell phones. And it just boggles my mind. So part of me makes you feel a little sad about that, because I feel like there has been a lot we've gained a lot in terms of technology, but we've lost a lot in terms of community connection and relations and how we interact with each other. You know, first when I came home, I would sit with my mother day after day. She can't use a cell phone. She's pretty well deaf, and what a beautiful feeling to sit in a room with an elder and just not be on the phone, turns TV off, or just sitting there in silence, you know, and just connecting and having a conversation at a dinner table. Oh, my God. You know, you don't realize until you get back to that how much of that was missing when you had a busy life so.
How have you seen your culture change?
How have I seen it change? I think, you know, growing up, you know, it's funny, like, we lived our culture, but we didn't even know that we were living our culture. Because we didn't know until 1985 like, when LIA came around, that we were Inuit people. We just thought we were Labrador people. We had no idea, like, What are you talking about? Are you bringing this card? What I said to my mom, like, What is this for? And she said, Well, I'm an Eskimo. I'm like, What are you talking like? We just had no sense of being anything other than Labrador people. We thought everybody traveled by dog team. We thought everybody lived off the land like we thought everybody lived the way we lived, you know. So I think that we we lived it, but we didn't know we were living it. And now I find that everybody is kind of trying to identify what what does that mean? Like, what does it mean to be Inuit what does it mean like? What does it mean like, we're trying to redefine for ourselves, I guess what it means. You know, I think that we've gotten away from the culture in a lot of ways, because, you know, in my time, it was a big part of who we were. Like we all went out on the land, we all did the things that we did. And I'm not sure so many of the young folk get to do that anymore, like, you know that they get to go, especially if they're from the north coast, back to where their original families are from, or if they practice traditional things here on the land around Goose Bay, or if they go out and fish or hunt or pick the berries or eat the birds or skin seals, like, you know, I don't know if that stuff's still being revived or, you know, here in Goose Bay, I don't know so.
Do you have any worries about your culture in the future?
Yeah, I think that, you know, technology has taken us down a different path, like we're just kind of getting away from all the things that I've I think that were so important that taught, you know, were my teachings about all the respect, you know, and the responsibility being part of community, being, you know, having that connection with community, connection with each other, connection to each other as young people, you know, connection connection as elders and so, yeah, I think that we need to find ways to other than staying connected on our phones, staying connected in person. Like to have the human connection, right? Because, you know, Brene Brown says the only thing we all want on this earth, and the only purpose for being on this earth is to have healthy, loving connections. And so I think that we've lost a lot of those connections. And how do we help youth connect back the way we did in the old days, I guess so.
Why is it important to still practice your culture?
Well, my culture is who I am. You know, I'm teaching myself how to draw in my old age, and when I was young and in school, I couldn't even draw a stick man, and I don't know why, but now, all of a sudden, I'm able to draw. I showed my mom a picture the other day, you know, a woman in a man sitting on a kayak, and she said, Who drew that? I said, I did. She said, that's really good. You should make pictures and sell them. And so I'm teaching myself to draw Inuit culture. And, you know, it's very folky folk art kind of stuff. And, you know, and all the feedback I get on Facebook, I'm doing 365, days of art. So one I'm doing, I try to draw every day something. And my friends like it's beautiful because it's a reflection of your insides, like it's telling a story, right? In my art, even though it's very somebody would think I have a lot of American friends on my site. They just have no idea what they're they think, you know, what is the what are these pictures? They don't have a clue that it's, you know, a little Inuit person or sitting on a piece of ice fishing, like they just don't know what it is. So, yeah, I'm trying to keep the culture alive within me by drawing, painting, still writing, hoping to do my second album. I haven't gotten around to that yet. Dealing with some health issues, I keep it alive, I think, just in the way I am in the world, way I go about the world, just offering some peace and some humility in the world, I think is a way of keeping your culture alive.
When did you move away?
Oh, my goodness, I left Labrador originally in 1981 so about 42 years, I've been back and forth. I always came home every year. When I was a student in university, I used to come home in the summertime and to get summer jobs, and then I came back after graduation. Worked for the province of Newfoundland and Labrador for a few years, and I left again. So I've been my whole life. I've kind of been back and forth, been retired a few years, so I come back every winter. I was back every winter for the last 10 years, and now I'm pretty well, almost a permanent resident.
Why did you move away?
If I can be honest, I had had a child that died when he was six months old of meningitis, and I just ran away. And my life became a testament to how important he was to me in my life. So I had an opportunity to leave, so I got away and did something with my life. That's the truth of it all. I couldn't deal with the loss of my child. I just needed a new life, so I just needed to go and do something with my life. Everything I've done has been a reflection of how important he was in my life, really. I went to St John's Newfoundland, and I did a two year college program in community recreation, because I always loved sports. And then I moved on to Fredericton, New Brunswick, and did a bachelor's degree in social work. And then I went to Halifax, Nova Scotia did a master's degree in social work. So I became a social worker, and worked a lot of years in child welfare, both here and in Halifax, and then I went on from there to Ottawa, and did most of my career as a director, director of First Nations and Inuit health in Ottawa, and did some music on the side. It was wonderful. I found Child Welfare was really hard. Glad I did the social degrees that I did, because they prepared me for life. Really, I did work in child welfare, and it was a very hard job, like it was a really child welfare is the hardest job you'll ever have in your life, caring for children, because there are no easy answers. You know, every child should be with its mother, that's my philosophy. And sometimes that just doesn't get to happen, and trying to find them the best alternative is hard sometimes. So I did that for a few years, and then I realized that I needed to go into policy. So I went up to Ottawa with great dreams, you know, doing great things with the government, and spent a lot of time traveling around the country, lots of meetings on airplanes from one end of the country to the other. But I learned a lot, you know, I learned how to be a good policy advisor, and then I worked my way up to becoming a program manager, and then I became a program director, and some days I was even Acting Director General. So that was pretty good for a little girl from Labrador, you know, yeah, so that was, that was my career in the government. So that's kind of where I ended. My career was in the government. So I ended up having some health issues and had to retire. Yeah, I have no regrets. It was wonderful. Lots of opportunity, you know, for Indigenous people in the Federal Government of Canada, they really encourage Indigenous people to join, and that's how I got in, you know, I applied and did a bunch of different tests and got in kind of at a managerial level. But in the meantime, my little voice inside me wanted, it was like wanted to be a singer, you know, so, but I knew I had to take care of myself and get a job. And, you know, we are always taught to get up, grow up, get a job, get educated, take care yourself. Nobody's going to take care of you. So that was the message that I always got, that you have to go do these adult, grown up things first, and then if there's time to do the other stuff, do it. So yeah, yeah. I think, you know, one of the things that really annoyed me more than anything being in Ottawa was that they would always talk about those people, those people, those people were my people. Like you're talking about my people, you say those people. So that was really upsetting for me. And, you know, they need to filter the monies down more to the programs in the communities, you know, so that the communities themselves can decide what they want to do, like politicians in Ottawa should not be making decisions for, you know, friendship centers in Labrador, friendship centers in Halifax or wherever. So I think there has to be more devolution into the communities, to let the communities themselves decide. You know, even in child welfare, even in any area you know, the people know. You know, like we always say, for the people, by the people, when we do any we, you know, within Halifax, people ask us to do research with our Inuit group, and we say, Well, is it for us? Is it about us? Are we involved? Are we doing it? We're how are we part of this process? If we're part of the process, we'll engage. But if we're not, we're not interested, because we're so tired of you coming here and saying, Oh, look, we consulted with Inuit people. We're done. You know, the people themselves need to be making the decisions. Well, you're just always having to educate people, right? They're just constantly having to educate people, because there's a sense of like: they don't know they don't know until you tell them they don't know. Like, you know what I mean, like ignorance is bliss, right? So I just felt always that I had to be educating. It was so exhausting, you know, having to say, even the differentiate between Inuit people, First Nations and Metis people, like just having to say to them, or they would say, Innu I would say no, we're not Innu, we're Inuit. So to me, it was just a constant education process, you know. So, yeah, and it was very tokenism in a way, like, oh, look, we got an Inuit person working for the government, so we filled our quota, you know. So there's always that sense of you were just kind of like a tick box, right? So I think I had such a passion for Indigenous issues. That's what drove me. You know what I mean? Like, I just today, even today, like, I've been retired for years, but I'm the chair of this Inuit board in Halifax. You know, we started from nowhere. We started when, when Loretta Saunders was murdered, we came together as a group of people. We got a little bit of money, and then we created a board, and we didn't even have money. I remember we first got a little bit of money. We're like, Wow, we got money. Now we can, like, hire a person, and then, you know, we've grown, evolved. We have annual gatherings. So it was my passion for the Indigenous world and people and everything in it. And I just felt that justice is my I guess if I say anything that just, injustice is the one thing I hate more than anything like I fight for justice for Indigenous people. You know, that was my passion, and what drove me that and the loss of my child.
When did you move back?
I came back last fall. My plan wasn't to stay as long as I have been, but during covid, I had left. I had sold my place in New Brunswick because I couldn't get health care. And my health was, you know, I'm aging, so I was having some health issues, and my mom's getting older, and was quite alone in her life, so I knew she needed help, and I came back to help her. And so, yeah, I'm here. I'm caregiving my mom, but also, you know, feeding my own soul by being here. So I think I'm pretty well ready to make it a permanent move in the next few weeks or so, kind of, kind of bitting in the biscuit. I think that it's she's going to need more care than I had thought. So, yeah, I'm here. I've been here. People like, you're still here, you're still here. I'm like, Yep, I'm still here. Been here since last September.
What made you curious to start to draw?
I took a course with Pete Barrett. Pete's a well known artist around here, and she had done a silk painting course, and she had drawn pictures of icebergs and stuff. And we all went to the class, and I had, you know, painted my little iceberg and stuff my silk painting. And I said to her, one day, can I try drawing something myself and painting it? So that's kind of how it started. And then she supported me and helped me order some supplies from California. So I got my silk painting supplies, and I was doing a lot of that in New Brunswick. And then I ran out of supplies, so that I just switched to drawing on paper. Yeah, I don't know. I just find it interesting that I've somehow become inspired to draw when I really couldn't draw when I was younger. But I'm not sure quite where it comes from. And I try to draw what I see. Like, I try to teach myself. How do you draw feet? How do you draw hands? How do you draw face? How do you draw this? Like, I'm always watching videos and stuff, trying to teach myself. And I'm the kind of person that you know, though I'm retired and have a lot of health issues, I My mind is still good, you know. And I try to keep myself busy. I'm always wanting to learn new things, because I think that it keeps you younger, keeps you alive longer, hopefully. So just, I'm always just curious, you know? I'm always kind of dabbling here and there. So that's probably my personality. So, yeah, I had a birthday couple days ago, I turned 63 I bought some more paints and some canvas, but I don't like it. And I'm like, what like? I painted three pictures. I'm like, I don't really like what is going on? This is too noisy. It's too loud. It's not me. I'm a minimalist. So I went back to my little book that I have that I draw every day, because I just like the minimalism of the stuff that I'm drawing. So I thought I learned something from that, right? Like, I was like, I don't like this stuff. I don't like it. I'm going back to my little book. And even if I just draw pencil drawings, then my inner child, you know, finding my inner child. But she just loves to draw. And so I just honor that part of myself. I create a part of myself every day. I try, at least once a day, to draw. I got a little book 365 days of drawing. I'm hoping at some point to put it into some kind of book format. But yeah, so there you go.
How do you keep it as a hobby for you without having to monetize it?
That's an absolutely perfect question. Perfect timing. I have this woman on my Facebook group every time I post a picture of one of my drawings. Oh, you really should be selling your art. You really should be selling your art. You really should be selling your art. And my inner child, she's like, No, I don't want to sell it. I don't want to sell it. And so I have a friend who it. And so I have a friend who's an art therapist out of Halifax. She's amazing. She's a she she supervised my research when I did my master's degree. And she says, there's two types of art, there's art for sale and there's art for therapy. And my art is therapeutic art, like it's healing art. I'm doing it for myself. I don't care if I ever sell it. I'm not here to sell pictures. I'm not here to sell my art. I'm not interested in selling my art. Really, I'm not, you know, and I don't know if the day will ever come. And like she said, You know, I called her up and we'd had like, a one hour session. She's like, if you're meant to do that, you will. If it feels right now that you're not, you're not interested in doing it. Don't do it. Like, if it's not 100% yes, it has to be a no. And you know, if you're just doing it for yourself, because it's therapeutic and you love it, that's why I do it. It brings me joy. It makes me feel happy. And like I just a lot of drawing little pictures. I may never sell pictures. I've sold a few silk paintings over the years, like when I did that work, but I've never sold any of my drawings or anything. I'm not interested. Just do it for the pure joy. Like, whatever brings you joy, whatever makes you feel happy, like you're singing, it makes you feel happy. Do it drawing. It makes you feel happy. Do it like find little things that bring you joy.
What kind of legends did you hear growing up?
We had a story, the story of old mother Buckso. What's the story? She was an Innu lady, in Winter's Cove where we grew up. There's all of these burial grounds, and they used to bury the bodies in the rocks, because it was they couldn't bury them in the land. So the bones are still there to this day. And there was a story of Old Mother Buckso, and she used to smoke a pipe, and she would always sit up on the hill. And it was like we used to call them the monuments. They call them Inukshuks now, but there was an old marker up on the top of the hill. And we would go over the other side of the hill to a place called Rattlers Bite, where our other relatives lived. But I always had to be back before it got dark, because Old Mother Buckso, would be sitting there when it got dark, she would be asking you for tobacco. So you had to make sure you were back in time. Otherwise she would be like, where's my tobacco? And I remember one time, like being young, it was kind of getting dark, I thought we stayed too long, and I was almost at the top of the hill, I'm like, Oh my God, she's going to be there. She's going to ask me for tobacco, and I don't have any tobacco. And I just remember running down the bottom of the hill as fast as I could go right to the camp, to mom's camp, because I thought, oh man, She better not be there asking me for tobacco, because I don't have any tobacco. So that was one that was the legend of Old Mother Buckso. So I used to always say, with the Indian markers, like the bones, if you took the bones from the gravesite and brought them to your house, the next morning, they would go back, they would be placed back to where they were, because you were never allowed to touch them like the story was, you know, somebody had done that. And the next morning they got up, and the bones were back in the in the grave mounts where they were had always been. So my grandmother always told the story about, she's passed away now, she had a she had a friend, polar bear that would visit her. Grandfather would be off in the wintertime, they were living in, I think their winter place was in I'm not sure. I can't remember now, where it was that they had, you know, they traveled very seasonally. So they all had camps and cabins everywhere. But grandfather would go off, and she'd be by herself, and she had a polar bear that would visit her. That was a story she would tell me. She had a friendly, she had a pet polar bear that would come like Okay, Grandma, do it. That was beautiful story.
Did you believe your grandma?
I do. I had a pet weasel when I was a little girl out in Winters Cove. Swear to God, the weasel would come out. I remember we used to have this big old rock sliding Hill, and I had slid down the hill, and I must have fallen and hurt myself, and I was crying. I remember crying, and this little weasel literally came out under the rocks. And I tell you, I was just close to the weasel talking to it, and my mother's like, there's no way that we, that weasel would have chewed your face off. I'm like, No, I had a pet weasel and I was talking away, and he was just listening to everything I had to say. So who knows? We all make up stories, whether they're, you know, truth or whatever they are, right? It's what you remember, what you remember as a child, I guess.
Why are legends important?
Well, I think they're lessons. You know, the legends are about lessons in life. They teach us lessons about, you know, the lesson with Old Mother Buckso, the punctuality. It was about responsibility. It was about showing up on time, right? It was about listening to your parents. It was about Come Home when I tell you to come home, you know, with the polar bear lesson, I guess it's about, you know, finding comfort when you're alone. You know, my grandpa was off doing this thing, and grandma was alone by herself. She needed some comfort. So finding comfort keeping us connected to the past, keeping us connected to our elders, keeping us connected to who we are and where we come from, our stories and who our people are. They say you can't you don't know where you're going if you don't know where you've been. So you have to know where you come from to know where you're going.
Why is it important to pass on legends?
To keep the memories of people alive, to keep the messages alive, to keep the teachings alive, so we know who we are like it helps us remember who we are when we forget who we are. You know.
What is your advice for teenagers?
Find ways of being connected. You know, like, I know we all like to be on our cell phones and our iPads and our computers and the whole world. And I'm guilty of it too. You know, I'm scrolling on Tiktok sometimes. I'm like, oh my god, I discovered Tiktok. Like, what is this? But find ways of being connected. You know, be with each other. It doesn't always have to be, you know, scrolling on your phone when you're beside each other and get out go for a walk. You know, we spend our lives outside just there. Used to be a restaurant over there called Jim's restaurant. I used to be an old piece of metal pipe, and we'd all sit there in every evening. We'd all sit there 10, 15, 20 of us. That was our evening outing. Then we'd go home, go to bed and go to school the next day. But getting outside, you know, finding ways of being connected, and not always through internet or technology, but find things that you like, you know, write, sing, draw, join groups, learn to paint, just anything you know to connect yourself, find find a mentor like find somebody in your life that you know sometimes we don't believe in ourselves. You know, I didn't grow up with a lot of self esteem, and I had a lot of self worth issues, and just finding one person, even if it's a friend or a cousin or an aunt or uncle, or just somebody in a program like this that helps you believe in yourself, you know, because that's how, that's how, that's how you make it at the end of the day, at some point, you gotta learn to believe in yourself, right? When there's nobody else around, it's just you. You got to find a way to find it within yourself. Takes a long time. That's why we're also why we call elders when we get older, because, you know, with age comes wisdom, but there's a lot of pain along the way.
What do you wish you had known when you were younger?
I think if I had found a way when I was younger to find more self esteem within myself at a younger age, I remember I took an elder to a conference in St John's last year, it was a women's empowerment thing. And I thought, wow, I'd never heard that concept in my life, because I grew up, you know, I feel a guilt of shame as an Inuit person, and, like, I didn't have a lot of self esteem and self worth and and so I was always so hard on myself and questioning myself and down on myself. So that was such a challenge for me. Like, I think that if you can find a way to build your self esteem at a young age and self worth, the self worth, the self esteem and the value, has to come from inside too. You know, we can't always look outside. We have to get it from the inside, and, believe it, without a it without a doubt, it's not easy work, but it gets you further down the road. I think if you can get it younger, at a young age, like my niece and nephew, I helped raise them up, and those people got self esteem, I'm telling you, I just boggles my mind. I'm just like, wow. Like, Well, I wish I'd had that. So yeah, I think having had a little bit more self esteem, self worth at a younger age wouldn't have taken me as long, and it wouldn't have been as hard as a struggle to get as far as I did. Yeah, maybe I would have done a little better with my music career if I had had a little bit more love and support along the way, because I didn't really have that for my music career, which is sad, but it is what it is, and I'm glad I got to do the music that I have done. Maybe someday I'll get to do more, and if I don't, then you know what? It was amazing, what I did accomplish. So, yeah.
What is your advice for people starting their careers?
I didn't, you know how to I went to see guidance counselor one time. She told me that anything I could be was a mechanic. Oh, my God, I laughed. Now, I think it's funny. Just, you know, talk to guidance counselors, talk to your teachers. Or, you know, I think maybe places like the friendship center could do those empowered courses, or they could help, you know, youth figure out, what is it? What is it? What do you really want to do? Like, what do you want would you like to do? What do you want to try? You know, like, I started out after my son left, I tried to do the hair salon, beauty culture thing. Well, that wasn't for me. Then I tried to do a forestry program in the woods. Well, that wasn't for me. I've tried lots of things, like different things in my life before I finally found a path. So I don't think it's abnormal to kind of try a bunch of different things, but I think if you can kind of get a little bit on your path a little earlier, it's less of a challenge than you know, being all over the place. Like I said, I had never heard of the concept of the concept of journalism. I think that's probably where I would have went, because I love to talk. I love stories, I love getting, you know, I just love all those things. And I don't know, don't even the last few years, I was like, wow, you can go to school for that, you know, so, but now I'm 63 I'm too old for any of that stuff. But anyway, yeah, just kind of find folks and surround yourself with people who love you, care about you, and who can help you find your way.
Do you have any advice for aspiring songwriters that are coming today?
Don't be afraid. I remember when I recorded my album, I wasn't going to sell the CD. My partner, you just made this album. You spent all this money making this album. You're not going to sell it to people like this isn't going to work out well, like you gotta, maybe we should try selling a few but find people surround yourself with people that believe in you. You gotta find a few little allies and people you trust that you can say, like, I really like to sing. Or I started out I was been writing my whole life, but I started out singing karaoke when I would travel with government at work, like we would go out in the evenings, and this woman said to me, you know, singing pretty good. I said, I write songs. You know, she goes, maybe she think about, like, putting it all together. So, like, other than that, I wouldn't have even kind of thought about it. So find, find folks that, if you have a dream, find a few people that you can trust, you know, keep your circle small. Find people you can trust and talk to them about it. And I didn't do that like, I just, I just, like, I said I was working in government when I recorded that album, so I was kind of trying to be a good bureaucrat and try to live a dream at the same time, you know.
*Singing* And our lives had just begun, where the Mealy Mountains stand the people lend a hand and the caribou abound for people living off the land. Let my heart soar through the treetops, let my body feel the sand, because no matter where I travel home is who I am. I can stand beside the river, turn my face towards the sea. I can walk along the beaches and feel it close to me. I can still recall the summers with the beauty of the sun, when our hearts would be together, there was joy for everyone, where the Mealy Mountains stand, the People lend a hand and the caribou abound for people living off the land, let my heart soar through the treetops, let my body feel the sand, because no matter where I travel, Home is who I am.