It's all downhill from here, taking it out-of-context and moving on to the next thing

The Neither Here Nor There Special Edition - September, 2024

My Scottish/Irish ancestors arrived on the east coast of so-called “Canada” in the late 1700’s or early 1800’s and were part of several waves of genocidal colonization of the Indigenous people who were already here. We arrived uninvited on the traditional unceded territory of the Wəlastəkewiyik (Maliseet) whose ancestors along with the Mi’Kmaq / Mi’kmaw and Passamaquoddy / Peskotomuhkati Tribes / Nations signed Peace and Friendship Treaties with the British Crown in the 1700s. I like to start every new post by explaining my family’s history and keeping this foremost in my mind (and my writing) at all times. I know I have benefited as a result of colonization, and I find the history deeply troubling. It is what motivates me to understand the true history and advocate for real reconciliation. As a child in the 1970’s, I moved west with my family and am grateful to be writing this newsletter now in Moh’kinsstis, and the traditional Treaty 7 territory of the Blackfoot confederacy: Siksika, Kainai, Piikani, as well as the Îyâxe Nakoda and Tsuut’ina nations. This territory is also home to the Métis Nation of Alberta, Region 3 within the historical Northwest Métis homeland. I recognize that the land I now work and live on was stolen from these nations (truth) and I support giving the land back as an act of reconciliation. Lands inhabited by Indigenous Peoples contain 80% of the world’s remaining biodiversity. Indigenous Peoples’ traditional knowledge and knowledge systems are key to designing a sustainable future for all.

Where to begin? And where to end?

These two questions are what I’ve been ruminating over for months now, maybe even as long as a year.

Let’s start with where to end. That may seem counter-intuitive but stay with me.

Endings, despite their reputation, don’t have to be sad. My latest ending is happening in about a week and I am feeling pretty good about it. I know you’re not supposed to say that out loud. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but it is the truth.

Next week is when I will retire from my full-time position at the City of Calgary. It has been an eventful 12 and a half years in service of the public, which is how I always saw it.

My Teams profile at work - an approximation of me.

Even at my lowest moments on the job, I was always able to pull myself out of the depths by remembering the mission.

I met all types of people in this job, some of whom made me laugh, others who made me cry, and the majority of whom were trying their best to serve the public, just like me. It was unbelievably confusing to figure out what was the right thing to do in many situations. The answer was often obscured by political pressure, personal biases, and a painful amount of paperwork.

That’s just life, of course. It’s no different on the inside.

Wanting better, not more

The “where to end” for me, is now. I’m one of those lucky people who has a pension. I know this is a privilege, and I wish more people had the same.

I’m extremely grateful. I could continue working for an even better pension, but I’ll be honest, I don’t want more - I want better.

This is an ending for me in several ways. I’m not only leaving my job but also leaving my profession. It’s no longer a comfortable fit for me. Perhaps it never was. I held out hope that things would change, but in the end, the profession didn’t quite live up to my expectations. 

That brings me to the “where to begin” question. I want to begin where I started. 

I don’t exactly know how I ended up working 35 years in communication. I’d like to blame others for this but I know it was all me. My early days as a newbie reporter for a small weekly newspaper in Fort McMurray are some of my best memories. 

This story did not earn me any friends over at city hall and resulted in a visit to the publisher from some elected officials. (June 25, 1986)

Is it just me or has covering municipal politics not really changed that much in 30+ years? (July 9, 1986)

I loved covering budget scandals at city hall, writing feature stories about everything from cults to bodybuilders to support groups for domestic violence victims. I took my trusty camera with me and shot photos in black and white film. We had a dark room guy who worked his magic with the prints to correct any exposure errors and offer advice that helped me become a better photographer. 

I attended community events from Fort Chipewyan to Anzac and everywhere in between, even flying up north with the local Member of Parliament who piloted his own aircraft (and nodded off to sleep mid-flight to my absolute horror!)

But, I was quickly spirited away to corporate communications by an offer I couldn’t refuse. It’s a common story. I didn’t think I would be able to make it on my reporter wages. The chances of getting a job at the only daily newspaper in town seemed remote. I let go of my journalism dream in return for a reliable pay cheque, actual furniture in my empty apartment, and a new (to me) Toyota Corolla. I thought there would be no going back.

Can I get a “do over?”

Except, now here I am. I’ve been testing the idea of a “do over” for a while, and it has been better than I could have hoped for. I don’t know how it will turn out and maybe I’ll regret it, but I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to give it a try…again. I’m not getting any younger, you know.

Is this an ending or a beginning? It’s both and neither. It’s just the next thing. I’m looking forward to writing more stories about what’s important to me, particularly the climate crisis.

Personally, I’ll be looking back at where we (and I) went wrong. There are other ways of knowing and existing in the world that have always been there, but continue to be ignored.

Mostly, I’ll be asking how we start over if we didn’t get it right the first time. I’ll also be drawing on some of my own experiences in oil and gas, and in government.

I don’t know what how this is going to go, but maybe that’s a good enough reason to tune in and see how it turns out. I hope you’ll come along for the ride. 

This reminds me of how my ex-husband used to bellow at me on gruelling mountain bike rides I wished I had never agreed to - “C’mon, it’s all downhill from here!” Of course he was lying. 

It was all uphill from here. Taken in Canmore in 1996.

It may look like I’m smiling, but I’m actually quite annoyed. Taken somewhere in Banff National Park in 1996.

As my legs throbbed and my lungs felt ready to collapse, I thought about how his words could be both inspiration to continue and reason to quit. Going downhill in the mountain biking context was meant to be encouraging, while in most other situations it could indicate something was going very wrong.

This is true about most things in life. It’s also what makes it exciting. If you can figure out which context applies in any given situation, that’s as good a place as any to begin. Or begin again. 

Official press pass from 1986 - “The Voice of Canada’s Future” was the newspaper’s slogan, not mine personally (ha,ha) but it seems to fit both then and now.