As a Saskatchewan writer, what is our relationship to the land, to place — where is home?
It’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately, for a host of reasons. The first reason being winter, of course. Many writers find solitude in the written word during the cold dark months. For me, that’s not the case. I’m more likely to be found scribbling down notes on paper or ticking away on my phone when birds are chirping, and buds are sprouting, or the geese rustle overhead. There is something tantalising about the waking world — the breath of the summer air simply buzzing. The quiet dark winter, on the other hand, sees me sleeping and working, and less time spent writing.
The second reason I’m exploring what home looks like, is Writing North 15: Coming Home. Since 2010, writers have gathered every January to share in the communal nature of writing at the University of Saskatchewan. This year, with a focus on home, Sarah Ens referenced one of Louise Bernice Halfe/Sky Dancer’s poem’s that explored the bones that live on the prairies and what they say to her. It was then I realized, as a settler — the bones of the land don’t speak to me. And if not here, where? Thankfully, I recently found some sense of home at Floyd Favel’s Winter Storytelling Series event at the Chapel Gallery in North Battleford where I was fortunate to share the space with other storytellers and performers.
The third reason — building on the second — is a recent Decolonizing Collaboration Learning Series hosted by STOPS and facilitated by Becky Sasakamoose Kuffner and Lorie Harrison. There, in the first session, Becky noted that colonialism and white supremacy culture is so overwhelmingly powerful, that even settlers lost their roots as they assimilated into the monolithic rural culture over the last 150 years. This. Becky giving voice to this personal reality was something altogether consuming, and I’ve thought about it in relation to my work for over 24 hours now.
And to my earlier question — as a writer, what is our relationship to the land, to place — where is home?
It’s a question many of us are also asking as we watch a second Trump Administration work to gut the United States constitution and ‘Make Facism Great Again.’ With that lens of colonialism, I’m reminded of a passage from my forthcoming novel I recently shared, asking what will remain when the world we know is forgotten? Will we be remembered for our big box stores, our black glass disks they find in our burial mounds, or the geological evidence of excess Carbon dioxide they will find in the rocks?
And as a young person, I think this search is even harder.
I recently shared some work at the Winter Storytelling Festival at the Chapel Gallery, as I mentioned. There, I spoke briefly to these thoughts that are haunting me: about facism, finding space in a world that doesn’t want to listen, about legacy. And one of the only responses I can muster, is to hope that we can find some sense of community, of wonder again in each other. Notice little quirks about eachother: sandals worn in the winter, different shades of lipstick, bright clothes — notice those who dare to stand out, to be seen. Being heard, perhaps, is the greatest form of resistance.
But also I hope we can find — as a community — a way to come together on this land we call home, as settlers and Indigenous folk. Hopefully in the future, my ancestors will too be able to talk to my bones as they walk the prairies.
Being mindful of my investigation into place and home, here’s five prompts you can use to explore your relationships to place, space, and home, here on the wide Saskatchewan prairie landscapes. Enjoy – M. A Fenrich
1. Living: Exploring the Sky
Saskatchewan is called the ‘Land of Living Skies’ for a reason. Was there ever a time it felt like the clouds or the sky were holding your emotions tightly? Was it a blizzard, a sunrise or sunset, blue and dotted with clouds? What is this memory today telling you about yourself and your connection to place? Write about this feeling.
2. Home: Exploring the Past
Chris Attrell — the infamous Saskatchewan photographer — is known for his distinct photography capturing abandoned homesteads and vehicles. Write about a landmark from your childhood that has disappeared: an old barn, a homestead, your family farm, a railway station. Seek what echoes remain inside you. How has the world changed? What remains? Capture this feeling with words.
3.Sleeping: Exploring the Weather
Saskatchewan is dominated by long, harsh winters — punctuated by brief moments of warmth and respite. Think about a memory of winter and our transition into spring. What emotions does winter create within you? When those brief moments of thawing happen, what are you left with? When spring comes — how can you capture this moment of transition within yourself, and the land?
4.Yardlight: Exploring the Community
My most salient memories from childhood are drives home from Saskatoon or North Battleford at night — 1000s of yardlights and houses acting like a mirror held up to the stars. Who are the people of Saskatchewan? Who are your neighbours? What do these prairie stars tell you? Thinking back to past memories of lights and the passage of knowledge through community — capture this feeling and share it.
5.Wind: Exploring the Future
One of my favourite sights in the summer, is the woosh of prairie grasses acting like green waves on a choppy ocean. On the horizon, like a mirage, what do you see? If the whisper of the wind in trees could talk and the prairies were giving you a vision, what would you see? What reaction does this vision cause in your body? Capture this vision and tell it