For an (ig)Noble Cause

Gathered at a community fundraising gala, a local first nation’s Elder shares her story of surviving Residential school. It is not my story to tell, nor do I have permission to do so. Survivor of Residential school.

There is small town politick at play. The mayor’s wife has been distributing literature refuting the level and gravity of the child death and nature of removals of children from their families in Canadian Residential schools. A momentum builds: the Mayor does not disavow this behaviour, more stories emerge, a local business is implicated, the plot thickens. Our citizenry, the gala attendees some of the more prominent historical family fixtures, is divided. Divided on the merits of “free speech” about the death of children.

Tables in the gala quiet when the Elder speaks - as quiet as wild grasses growing over unmarked graves.

All but one. Two wealthy families carry on their conversations. They must know. They draw looks of consternation, but with the brevity that only wealth can compel. The monoliths of logging and the old money stand unmoved against the battering tides testimony and truth.

Walk by the unhoused -

I play the Fool

my spring-crisp gala suit