“Unraveling the Secrets of ‘Traditions of a Mutt’: What Your Dog’s Mixed Breed Can Teach You About Love and Loyalty”
Here, meet my Great Aunt, unable to walk due to her weight because the scarcity of sustenance as a child makes turning away food now feel like a crime.
And here’s me after a few drinks of whiskey, my skin and neck riddled with red blotchy hives, an allergic reaction to liquor. One that likely happens to my other sister and brother as well, only it’s not easily visible on their darker skin.
Métis in its simplest form means mixed. Although my hair is bright and my skin is fair, it still comes from the mixing and melding of my ancestors. My blood and freckles speak of a new world that began. Yes, this world was of pain and confusion and fighting. But it was also of moccasin making inside a log home by the fire. This world was of putting on your Sunday best to go to church. This was of building a new culture out of survival and desire. It’s a mixing of the two very different worlds, one of the Natives and of the European immigrants to Canada. I am more than a face and ethnicity that confuses. My complexion grants me privileges, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t harsh realities there as well. I live with the contradictions of being white and Métis.
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