Blanket Toss Under Midnight Sun

By , January 16, 2021 1:31 pm

This is a beautiful, mostly uplifting book that offers a different perspective than what we’re used to seeing – bad news about Aboriginal peoples of Canada. That’s not to stay that reality isn’t full of positive stories; it’s just that the media hones in on the negative.

Published in 2019, about four years after the author had started posting archival photos of Aboriginal Canadians on his social media, the book goes far beyond photography. It’s part anthropology (probably what drew me to it), in that it offers little snippets of Aboriginal lives from eight parts of Canada (and the northwest US – borders were irrelevant up to a certain point in our joint colonial histories). It’s part history, such as the section on the James Bay Hydro Project that initially left the Cree population out of all decision-making.

The nicest part of this book is the glimpse it offers into people’s everyday lives. Kids playing, artists sketching, writers writing, mothers carrying babies… we can all use a reminder of our shared humanity.

Knopf Canada, 2019.

A New Year’s Eve Sentiment

By , December 31, 2020 7:46 pm

Lost Together

Blue Rodeo

Strange and beautiful
Are the stars tonight
That dance around your head
In your eyes I see that perfect world
I hope that doesn’t sound too weird

And I want all the world to know
That your love’s all I need
All that I need
And if we’re lost
Then we are lost together
Yeah if we’re lost
We are lost together

I stand before this faceless crowd
And I wonder why I bother
So much controlled by so few
Stumbling from one disaster to another

I’ve heard it all so many times before
It’s all a dream to me now
A dream to me now
And if we’re lost
Then we are lost together
Yeah if we’re lost
We are lost together

In the silence of this whispered night
I listen only to your breath
And that second of a shooting star

Somehow it all makes sense

And I want all the world to know
That your love’s all I need
All that I need
And if we’re lost
Then we are lost together
Yea if we’re lost
Then we are lost together

Source: Musixmatch

Animal Friends

By , December 19, 2020 2:42 pm

Just sharing some of my best animal buddies.

He’s sinking.
She’s so shy.
Fergus (now retired)
Queenie – I don’t know when I’ll see her again but she has been an amazing girl ALL these years
KC – a sweet, loyal boy who deserves a good retirement
With KC and Will (who is hopefully not going away)
Robin is tired and ready for retirement. I will love her forever.

Smile for the camera, Robin.
Yukon – still going strong with one eye

Quad One Done

By , November 17, 2020 9:45 pm

Thanks everyone for a great first ever quadmester.

  • Ms. G

There Is Hope

By , November 7, 2020 5:37 pm

It may not make everything better, but it will be eminently better than hate, division and stupidity.

My American friends and relatives are experiencing palpable relief. I cannot even imagine.



“No being is so important that he can usurp the rights of another.”

– Jean Luc Picard (my captain)

Star Trek TNG featuring the cerebral Captain Picard

Happy Thanksgiving

By , October 12, 2020 5:56 pm

I’m very thankful for my wonderful family and friends, my cats and horse friends, my hard-working students, my brilliant colleagues, and most of all…Val.

Thanksgiving makes me think of mushrooms. I hope you had a lovely long weekend and got out in nature a bit.

Ms. G

Back to Cute Cats

By , September 15, 2020 5:41 pm

When times are a bit rough, it’s always nice to have cuddly (sort of) and cute cats around. Today Shadow gave me the stink eye but she was purring at the same time. Now that’s talent.

She is camera shy, usually.

Four Books – Black Lives Matter

By , August 19, 2020 7:33 am

The Yellow House had been on my book list since I saw it noted on Barack Obama’s end of 2019 list. It did not disappoint. Sarah M. Broom has written a memoir integrated with a family history and an urban history of a part of New Orleans that the ordinary tourist would not be familiar with. The lens, of sorts, for her history is the small yellow house her family lived in in New Orleans East.

Broom’s family history centres on her mom’s house. Ivory Mae, who unfortunately had two husbands die on her, had 12 kids from her two marriages. They did not all grow up in the house but some of them have a strong connection to it and the neighbourhood that started out as a dream of a planned suburb yet ended up a forgotten, somewhat dilapidated wasteland crossed by a very dangerous highway.

After the house was seriously damaged in Hurricane Katrina in 2005 and then taken down by the city, Broom went on an odyssey to figure things out: who is she, what’s her identity? What’s her relationship to New Orleans? Most importantly, for me at least, how did New Orleans become so dysfunctional, often at the expense of its Black citizens?

Some things you learn about the narrowly integrated schools are very disappointing, such as that this obviously smart girl is never steered toward any top colleges. A fiercely independent person, Broom managed to get herself to college in Texas and eventually on to a Masters in journalism at Berkeley in California.

This book takes you from New Orleans East to New York, to Burundi back to New Orleans (to the French Quarter, the part of the city we all know about, where Broom lived for a year while researching for her book). I can’t say I understood how the Burundi chapter fit in, but I definitely liked when she came back (not necessarily home) to New Orleans.

I look forward to Sarah Broom’s next book, hoping she’ll veer more towards history as she is clearly a talented researcher and writer.



The Cooking Gene: A Journey Through African-American Culinary History in the Old South by Michael W. Twitty is not a book I sought out. I had heard of the author before (having seen him do a guest appearance on a southern American cooking show, the Chef and the Farmer, on PBS). Finding it at Book City, I thought, why not? I like food. I know who Twitty is. I’m interested in African-American history.

What a perfect book for me! Twitty is a lyrical writer, if the food associated with slavery can be described in lyrical terms. He has a very big personality which he lets shine through in this memoir crossed with a history. The general premise is that he is searching for his family’s history through its relationship to food. He dives very deeply into genealogy, the flora and fauna of the south (its many parts – it is not a one-note region). While doing this he is giving a history of enslaved people in America.

This book jolted my memory back to life. When I was in university, I studied a lot about the American South, particularly about slavery. I had almost forgotten how important migration was in the internal history of slavery in America. Twitty reminded me that, in addition to the forced migration of the millions of enslaved people from Africa, there were also the migrations west and south as cotton supplanted tobacco and farmers sought out new land (in the process also displacing Native peoples). Twitty includes in his study some painful accounts of enslaved families being sold apart as these migrations took place. There was also the migration of millions of Black people escaping the horrors of the South post Reconstruction, and post both world wars. Twitty’s point is that the food always accompanied these journeys.

Another strong theme of Twitty’s is the intertwining of the history of Black and White people in the south. Genetically, yes. Culturally, yes. The roots of the southern diet are in West Africa, not surprisingly. The roots of Twitty’s family (or at least part of it) are there, too. When discussing the kitchen and Black cooks and other enslaved people, he cannot and does not avoid the subject of rape. The genes bear it out; Twitty is able to trace quite a number of his White slaveholder ancestors.

Of all the books I’ve read lately, the author I’d most like to meet would be Michael W. Twitty. In his writing, both personal and historical, he so obviously has a huge. giving heart. He truly feels that the food we eat proves that we’re all together in this messy struggle of life.

There are recipes, none of which this vegan will be making. But that really isn’t the point of this fascinating book.


Definitely the best known of the three books is Trevor Noah’s Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood. Quite a few people had recommended this book to me. I’m just sorry it took me so long to listen!

I cannot say just how much I enjoyed this book from the very first comedic anecdote to the poignant end. Though it’s a personal memoir (actually more of a family memoir), Noah weaves in his very sharp-tongued interpretation of South African history prior to almost each chapter.

Though I have studied apartheid rather well (or so I thought), there’s a lot I learned from this book. Trevor Noah, as a smart observer, offers insights into the way apartheid was designed to work to keep South Africa’s diverse population separate. His vantage point, as a mixed-race child in a country that outlawed such relationships, gave him the ability to cross boundaries and languages and ways of life as he grew up.

Much like Sarah Broom in The Yellow House,  Noah has written an ode to his mother, Patricia Noah, a very strong, independent character.  His ability to translate her fierce personality on to the page is a huge star in this book.

Despite containing a number of very sad and scary moments, the book is full of humour (not surprisingly), astute historical interpretations, and adept characterizations. I would love for my grade 12 world history students to read it. I have now passed on my copy to my sister-in-law and have reserved it for my husband next. I can’t wait to discuss some of the stories with them – for now I am holding my tongue.


None of the above books relate to Canadian history and the experience of Black Canadians. That is a shortcoming that I definitely must address.

However, for school I recently read a young adult novel called Brother by Canadian author David Chariandy. What a beautiful (but difficult) story written by a gifted writer.

Chariandy constantly flashes back to 1991 to the youths of the two main characters, brothers Michael and Francis. Their mom, Ruth,  is also portrayed as a very strong, independent character, even despite the understandable setbacks she suffers in the wake of Francis being shot.

The city itself is a character in this book: the family’s ventures into the haven of the Rouge River valley; Francis’ social hangout at Desirea’s barbershop; the local air-conditioned library branch where Michael’s relationship with his first girlfriend Aisha develops; the maze of apartments where the family lives, described as such:

“All around us in the Park were mothers who had journeyed far beyond that they knew, who took day courses and worked nights, who dreamed of raising children who might reward sacrifice and redeem a past. And there were victories, you must know. Fears were banished by the scents from simmering pots, denigration countered by a freshly laundered tablecloth. History beaten back by the provision of clothes and yearly school supplies. ‘Examples’ were raised.”

The story is difficult, lives are lost. I cried my way through this book, for sure. But how relevant it is to read an account of 1991’s the summer of the gun when real neighbourhoods that “The Park” is modeled on are living it everyday, sadly.

After a neighbourhood  shooting, Michael, the narrator comments: “You caught in the eyes of strangers the suspicion or outright fear. You sensed the halo of menace above your head, glimpsed the turbulence swirling behind as you walked. On TV and in the papers, politicians promised to crack down on criminals, which echoed agreements from suited community spokesmen. But criminals weren’t the only target. Every day, neighbourhood kids were stopped by the cops, the questions about their actions and whereabouts more probing. We were being watched by everyone, shopkeepers, neighbours, passersby.”

Every Toronto student should read this book. In fact, I bought it to read with some students, but that didn’t quite work out. Next year, if I have students in credit recovery who didn’t read a novel the first time around, this will be the book we will read together. I am looking forward to their reactions!

And I must read some of Chariandy’s other books.






Virtual Field Trip

By , July 19, 2020 4:29 am

It’s not a good idea to go in person right now, but please check out the Legacy Museum: From Enslavement to Mass Incarceration in Montgomery, Alabama.

Equal Justice Initiative, founded by lawyer Bryan Stevenson, whom you may have heard of from the documentary “True Justice” or the movie “Just Mercy” based on his 2014 memoir, has created this museum dedicated to educating people about how the remnants of slavery can be seen in the violence of lynching, segregation and mass imprisonment.

‘Segregation posters are on display at the Legacy Museum in Montgomery, Ala. “The great evil of American slavery wasn’t involuntary servitude,” Stevenson says. “It was this idea, this narrative, that black people aren’t as good as white people.”‘ (Source:


There’s also the National Memorial for Peace and Justice,  America’s first memorial to the thousands of lynching victims throughout its history.


Something Serious At Last

By , June 26, 2020 8:25 pm

Sadly, it just occurred to me how lacking in seriousness my blog posts have been during the pandemic. All photos of flowers and cats.

As I get older I don’t find it easier to share my thoughts about the state of the world; I find it incredibly difficult to process my thoughts. The pandemic has only made it harder. At times my mind feels cluttered and confused. The emotions have outplayed the analysis. The sometimes mind-numbing routine of working from home has overridden the opportunities for creativity and depth.

I have known for most of my life what a privileged person I am. There is absolutely no doubt of that. Though I often say I am lucky to have the life I have, I know it’s not luck. Luck and fortune are not the same thing. Luck appears out of nowhere. Fortune is a pathway that is created for you, carving out an existence that you glide upon with little friction.

I’ve had everything to the nth degree: material possessions, housing, travel opportunities, hobbies, education, career. Even love. The list really could go on.

I’ve always worked hard, but that doesn’t excuse me from privilege. I think the skill I’m still developing is being able to help my students see different perspectives from their own. Not dismissing other positions and “truths” so quickly.

In the past few days I’ve been involved in two conversations where people said things that were discriminatory – definitely bubble-based thinking, as Val calls it. They don’t even know they are being so insular.

I did not effectively challenge the first person; my response was too meek. Mostly in my own head I started analyzing why this person might think his way of thinking was acceptable. I directly challenged the second person, but I don’t think I made a difference in her position. People are very dug in to their views, based on their experiences, often closed off from those they don’t see or hear.

As a teacher, it is more important to me than ever to play a role in shaping my students’ perspectives. They don’t have to think like me, but I would like them to learn to think more broadly. Did I do this successfully during online learning? Probably not but I’d like to think I tried.

No matter who took away the initiative to learn and work hard during online learning, I cannot stop thinking that it was a wasted opportunity for all those grade 12 students who just couldn’t be bothered anymore. If you are privileged enough to be able to sit at home and do school online (minus serious mental or physical health impediments), you should at least make something of it. I am not going to toe the party line on that one.

Ultimately, I’m privileged to have the best job in the world, teacher! I hope and will work for education to be valuable in carving a pathway for everyone to have better and fairer opportunities.

To be continued…






Panorama Theme by Themocracy