Wisdom and Well-Being Post-Disaster: Stories Told by Youth

University of Calgary PRISM: University of Calgary's Digital Repository

Graduate Studies The Vault: Electronic Theses and Dissertations

2020-09-25 Wisdom and Well-Being Post-Disaster: Stories Told by Youth

Markides, Jennifer Megan

Markides, J. M. (2020). Wisdom and Well-Being Post-Disaster: Stories Told by Youth (Unpublished doctoral thesis). University of Calgary, Calgary, AB. http://hdl.handle.net/1880/112606 doctoral thesis

University of Calgary graduate students retain copyright ownership and moral rights for their thesis. You may use this material in any way that is permitted by the Copyright Act or through licensing that has been assigned to the document. For uses that are not allowable under copyright legislation or licensing, you are required to seek permission. Downloaded from PRISM: https://prism.ucalgary.ca

UNIVERSITY OF CALGARY

Wisdom and Well-Being Post-Disaster: Stories Told by Youth

Jennifer Megan Markides

A THESIS

SUBMITTED TO THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES

IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE

DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

GRADUATE PROGRAM IN EDUCATIONAL RESEARCH

CALGARY, ALBERTA

SEPTEMBER, 2020

Abstract

In this dissertation, I embraced bricolage (Denzin & Lincoln, 2000, 2018; Kincheloe, 2001,

2005b; Kincheloe, McLaren, & Steinberg, 2011; Rogers, 2012; Steinberg, 2006; Steinberg,

Berry, & Kincheloe, 2020) as a responsive, dynamic, and reflexive research orientation. Guided by Jo-ann Archibald’s (2008a, 2008b) storywork principles, I conducted ethnographic interviews and gathered the stories of youth who graduated the year of the 2013 High River flood. I wondered how they experienced the flood and post-disaster recovery, as they transitioned from life-in-schools to life-out-of-schools. Conducting research with a vulnerable population required an ethic of care (Gilligan, 1982; Noddings, 1984, 2012). Through storywork, I was conscious of my responsibilities to the participants and their stories. I engaged in deep listening and critical reflection to learn from the youths’ experiences. Following the four directions teachings of Elder

Bob Cardinal of the Maskekosihk Enoch Cree Nation, I considered the emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical well-being of the youth, as evidenced in their stories. Using Elder

Cardinal’s holistic framework as a guide (Elder Bob Cardinal, personal communication,

September, 2016 to July, 2017; Latremouille, 2016; University of Alberta, 2016), I created and re-created a holistic conceptual framework in response to the emergent needs and ideas shared by the youth. I re-presented their narratives in storied métissage, entered into generative dialogues with the holistic teachers, and engaged in meaning-making processes. Moving from listener/researcher to storyteller, I am responsible for carrying the stories of the youth forward to new audiences towards transformational learning and holistic well-being.

Keywords: youth, disaster, storywork, holistic framework, bricolage

iii

Preface

This thesis is original, unpublished, independent work by the author, J. Markides. The interviews reported in Chapters 3-5 were covered by Ethics Certificate number REB19-0302, issued by the University of Calgary Conjoint Faculties Research Ethics Board for the project

“Flood Mud and other Residues of Disaster: Stories told by you who graduated the year of the

2013 High River Flood” on July 25, 2019.

Acknowledgements

I would like to begin by thanking my first teacher, my mom, Doreen MacDermott—a consummate booklover and role model—who fostered my love of reading. She waited outside in the car, reading her own book, while I scoured the Muheim Memorial Elementary School library for any books that I had not yet read, and ones that I needed to read again. Thanks also to Ms.

Grinden, the librarian, for allowing my limit to be ten books per day, while others typically signed out two per week.

Thank you also to my first student, my brother, Nathan MacDermott for playing along as

I retaught all of the lessons from each grade I had completed, using the leftover worksheets that my teachers let me take home at the end of the year. He was always top of the class and helped solidify my love of teaching from an early age. I am proud of the man he has become.

I am grateful for all of the love and support I have received from my dad and his wife,

Rick and Donna MacDermott. They have been my/our biggest cheerleaders (and doting grandparent-babysitters), from the time Derek and I started our master’s degree with two young boys: Ashwin 2 years old, and Evren 1½ months old. Thanks also to Dr. Brent Davis for allowing us to bring our baby to class; and to all of our peers who elevated our experience and took turns with the baby when we needed to present: Cheryl, Craig, Emily, Mike, Rebecca,

Ryan, Sandy, and Shawn.

My journey as a doctoral student was initiated by my friend and mentor, Dr. Lissa

D’Amour. Her gentle coaxing and assurance allowed me to confidently leave the job I loved, teaching in a public Montessori classroom, to embark on a new adventure in the Werklund

School of Education. She ensured that I would be teaching as a sessional instructor right from my first term on campus. Lissa knew that my happiness and future success would depend on me

v having a well-rounded experience, including roles as a graduate assistant researcher and teacher.

She provided critical feedback, guidance, and support at every turn.

From day one, I have had the best dissertation-buddy in Jennifer MacDonald. We became fast friends, also known as “The Jens” in our courses and writing projects. I have learned so much from our work together. Jen is one of the most insightful, hard-working, and thoughtful people I know. She has made the tough times better, and the celebrations sweeter.

I will forever be indebted to my supervisor, Dr. Shirley Steinberg, for believing in my abilities to write, edit books, and create a book series with DIO Press. Shirley has changed my life forever, as a mentor and friend. She is a rock star: academic, activist, and human being. I am grateful to be part of the Crit. Ped. family, with thanks to Alex, Arlo, Barb, Barry, Brian,

Bronwen, Bronwyn, Dan, Erin, Galea, Ineke, Janean, Jen, Jenny, Jodi, John, Judith, Julie,

Kenny, Kori, Kris, Marilyn, Mel, Michel, Renee, Stephanie, Tania, Teresa, Tom, Yoni, and so many others too numerous to name. Missing Derek and Eelco. Grateful to include Corinne.

My scholarship would not be what it is today without the care and guidance of my doctoral committee members, Dr. Mairi McDermott and Dr. Dustin Louie. Each has provided rich opportunities and critical insights at different stages of my program. Thank you to Mairi for getting me up and teaching in front of 350+ students and nudging me to get through candidacy despite my tendency to say “yes” to every teaching job and publication that comes my way.

Thanks to Dustin for pushing me in the home stretch, turning me on to a whole new world of music, and sharing in my love of words.

I have been fortunate to have other strong Indigenous women, as role models, advocates, and friends within the academy. My respect and gratitude go out to Dr. Yvonne Poitras-Pratt, Dr.

Jackie Ottmann, Dr. Aubrey Hanson, and (soon to be Dr.) Laura Forsythe.

Thank you also to the many educators: students, teachers, mentors, and colleagues, who have taught me so much; and, to all of the Elders, Knowledge Keepers, Grandmothers,

Indigenous leaders, activists, artists, land and water protectors, allies, and more-than-human relatives who continue my education today—especially, Elder Bob Cardinal of the Maskekosihk

Enoch Cree Nation whose gentle guidance has inspired and influenced much of this work.

My life would not be what it is today without my dear friends— Cara, Crista, Ellie, Enali,

Erin, Jenny, Laura, Marilyn, Myrna, Teresa, and their families—and the love and encouragement of my family: Derek, Ashwin, and Evren. They continue to be the greatest gifts in my life. Thank you, Derek, for always believing in me, supporting me to pursue my dreams, and being the best partner in life. Our boys have had two teachers, students, and scholars as parents, for as long as they will remember. I am grateful for their patience, understanding, inspiration, and wisdom.

Thank you to my in-laws, Hugh and Levica Markides; my mom’s partner, Vic Melnyk; my brothers Mark and Jimmy; and, my grandparents, Bill and Loretta MacDermott, and Deb and

Dorothy Wood. I owe a debt of gratitude to my Auntie Dolores for her critical reading and careful editing of my final draft—thank you for making my work more polished. My immediate family numbers in the hundreds—too many to name here—but their strength, support, and humour mean the world.

Now that this dissertation is done, I am needed to be present as a mother—to bake a cake with Ashwin and do some puzzles with Evren.

vii

Dedication

The stories that comprise the data and the findings of this dissertation are not my stories.

They have been entrusted to me by the generous young adults who came forward to participate in this research. As such, I dedicate this dissertation to the youth who experienced the 2013 High

River flood and chose to share their stories so that we might learn from their experiences. I hope that the work will benefit other youth living through disaster and that I may repay the kindness of the participants who engaged in the study, through proposed initiatives at the community level.

viii

Table of Contents Abstract ...... ii Preface ...... iii Acknowledgements ...... iv Dedication ...... vii List of Figures ...... xi Unfinished Work, or Baggage, from the Flood ...... xii Musings on the Experiences of Youth ...... xiii Musings on the Experience of Teaching ...... xiv Why Indigenous Methodologies and Literature?...... xiv Musings on the Performance of Research ...... xiv My Notes ...... xv Wise Words: Cautions and Openings ...... xvi An Act of Resistance...... xvi Chapter 1: Introduction ...... 1 Bricoleur’s Notes ...... 1 Glossary of Terms ...... 2 Research Overview ...... 3 Who am I to Engage in this Research? ...... 13 PART 1 – A Flood Story ...... 15 PART 2 – No One Knew We Would End Up Like This ...... 22 PART 3 – Personal Positioning within the Research Context ...... 25 PART 4 – Occasioning Emergence Through Métissage ...... 26 Why Stories? ...... 33 Chapter 2: Methodology and Literature ...... 35 Bricoleur’s Notes ...... 35 Beginning at the End ...... 36 Bricolage and the Work of the Bricoleur ...... 37 Methodological Literature ...... 41 The Through Line ...... 55 Literature Review ...... 58 Wait! Where is “Well-Being” in this Literature Review? ...... 79 Well-Being in Education ...... 81

Revisiting the Research Plan ...... 85 More Wise Words ...... 88 Chapter 3: Stories and Analysis ...... 89 Bricoleur’s Notes ...... 90 (Un)Inhabiting My Ethical Framework for Living Well in the World of Research ...... 91 Trusting Myself to Look Inward: Embracing Ermine’s (1995) Aboriginal Epistemology ...... 91 Living My Theoretical Framework ...... 93 Embodying Storywork Principles Within the Research Process ...... 94 Seeing My Conceptual Framework ...... 95 Holistic Guidance and Critical Analysis ...... 96 What is Storied Métissage?...... 98 Introducing the Holistic Teachers ...... 99 Critical Analysis of Emergent Themes ...... 100 Surreal Flood Experiences ...... 101 Youths’ Experiences Post-Disaster...... 122 Unforeseen Challenges ...... 137 Perseverance and Accomplishments ...... 156 Relationships that Support Well-Being ...... 165 Relationships that Change Over Time ...... 170 Relationships to Place ...... 181 Shifting Priorities: Advice to Their Younger Selves and Youth ...... 190 Needs of Youth Post-Disaster ...... 205 Graduation ...... 224 Chapter 4: Synthesis and Discussion ...... 239 Bricoleur’s Notes ...... 239 Meaning-Making Synthesis and Literature Connections ...... 240 Researcher Concerns for Well-Being ...... 251 Summary Remarks from the Holistic Teachers ...... 258 What is Missing? ...... 265 Limitations ...... 267 Omissions ...... 269 Chapter 5: Concluding Remarks and Opening Possibilities ...... 272 Bricoleur’s Notes ...... 274 From Floods to COVID-19 ...... 275 Research Summary ...... 276 Research Findings ...... 278 Implications for Disaster Response ...... 281 Implications for Educators ...... 282

Implications for Graduation Ceremonies ...... 282 Implications for Future Research...... 283 Reflection on the Process: Bricolage, Holism, and Storywork ...... 284 Holistic Conceptual Framework...... 290 Potential Applications for the Holistic Conceptual Framework...... 291 Closing Thought ...... 293 Beginning and Ending with the Voices of Youth...... 293 References ...... 294 Appendices ...... 310 Appendix A: Participant Recruitment Poster ...... 310 Appendix B: Participant Consent Form ...... 311

List of Figures

Figure 1. Well-Being Needs and Aptitudes ………………………………………………… 266

Figure 2. Holistic Conceptual Framework ………………….……………………………… 291

xii

Unfinished Work, or Baggage, from the Flood1

I quite literally have been carrying things around with me since high school, since before the flood. Like I have this art piece that's half finished because it was supposed to be submitted two days after the flood. It's more than half finished but it's not done because I just… I just keep carrying it around because I'm just… I'm going to finish it one day, I'm going to finish it one day, it's really cool. And it's in a Rubbermaid bin, like it's a big project and I'm just like, I'm just carrying this around and it's like baggage and I keep bringing stuff around. (Ava’s Interview, 2019)

1 Throughout this dissertation I have included poetry, musings, wise words, and other notes that reflect my thinking along the writing journey. The first and last poems: “Unfinished Work, or Baggage, from the Flood” and “Beginning and Ending with the Voices of Youth” are formed from excerpts from the interviews and cited accordingly. The other poems and ponderings are my original pieces. They include references where warranted and are often right justified. One of the pieces is embedded in the text on the bottom of page 53; in it, I responded to Fyre Jean Graveline’s work by playing with literary terminology, style, and space. I hope that these short interludes provide moments for pause and reflection, allowing the reader to walk beside me as I navigate the research process.

xiii

Musings on the Experiences of Youth

Why is it that I can remember my own struggles as a youth; but I have a difficult time understanding the experiences of other youth? Time distances me from the memories and relational empathy for youth. High school and young adulthood are stages in life that we all go through and yet we talk little about. The high school experience is thought to prepare youth for adult life. It is academic preparation for university. It is relationship training for marriage or partnering. It is skill development for the work force. It is responsibility practice for citizenship. How prepared are youth to meet life’s challenges?

xiv

Musings on the Experience of Teaching

During a performance review of my teaching, I was asked by the administrator: “How do you ensure that the students are learning what you set out to teach them?” I smiled and replied: “I can’t. There is no guarantee that any of them will learn what I set out to teach them.” My honesty was met with overt agreement and underlying unease.” The illusion of power shifted. The myth of control, exposed. In that moment, I was set free.

Why Indigenous Methodologies and Literature?

When I teach, I know myself as a teacher. I am comfortable and confident in my teacher identity (Palmer, 2017). Coming to research, I did not know myself as a researcher. I read; and I read; and I searched for myself in the world of research. For the longest time, I could not see myself in the field. I questioned if I belonged. I was not comfortable in my researcher skin, Until I started to read Indigenous scholars. In their work, I saw myself (Markides, 2018a). I found kinship. My work may take many forms, But I trust that the community of Indigenous scholars, whose work I draw upon, have guided my practice in good ways.

Musings on the Performance of Research

Just as teaching is an act that carries no guarantees of learning, research is a practise of thoughtful planning, deep scrutiny, and illusory control.

My Notes

Throughout my writing, I draw on the scholarship of others. In many cases, I choose to include quotes —passages that have moved me in some way— rather than paraphrasing other scholars’ works.

I keep their words intact to create a multi-voiced conversation.

In many places, I will elaborate on their ideas. In others, I consciously invite you, the reader, to make sense of the quote in your own way.

I am not doing this to be lazy, or obtuse, or vague. In these places, I am asking you to bring your knowledge and understanding to the conversation.

I feel that by me explaining how I want you to think about every passage, I might insult your intelligence. Or worse yet, I might preclude the possibilities for thought and interpretation.

xvi

Wise Words: Cautions and Openings

Elders from many circles acknowledge that the guidance a listener takes from a story may differ from person to person, especially as stories offer many underlying teachings. Though, there are times when the same or similar message is heard by many. The stories carry lessons that transcend time, history, events, and place (Cruikshank, 1998). The listener brings themselves—their history and their experiences—to the telling. What the listener hears and reflects on from the story is deeply personal. In this way, the teaching is not prescriptive and the learning is individualized yet shared.

An Act of Resistance

While revising this work, I have been conscious of not removing too much of the messiness. Too often, we see the finished products of people’s work. The published pieces, streamlined and tidy, polished and poised, masterpieces. Over time, it can be difficult to imagine that the lives and works of others are anything less than perfect. Humbly, I want to share my humanness, and talk about the journey— not as a sleek tale of having arrived, but as an honest account of wandering without a clear or predetermined destination, being open to the process of the research, listening with an open heart and open mind, becoming attuned to the place of the work and trusting my place in the work.

Chapter 1: Introduction

The truth about stories is that that’s all we are. (King, 2003, p. 2)

Bricoleur’s Notes

In this, the “Introduction,” I provide a “Glossary of Terms” and “Research Overview” including the context, questions, methods, frameworks, and potential significance of my work.

Next, I ask “Who am I to Engage in this Research?” and consider decolonizing practices in my work with youth.

In keeping with emancipatory and Indigenous research methodologies, I am situating myself upfront in this dissertation (Absolon & Willett, 2005; Kincheloe, McLaren, & Steinberg,

2011; Kovach, 2009; Smith, 2012). As such, I introduce my story in four parts: “PART 1 – A

Flood Story” conveys my experience of the 2013 High River flood; “PART 2 – No One Knew

We Would End Up Like This” tells the story of how I came to my research focus; “PART 3 –

Personal Positioning within the Research Context” introduces my intuitive interest in holistic education practices and the influences of complexity theory (Davis, Sumara, & Luce-Kapler,

2008) and care ethics (Gilligan, 1982; Noddings, 1984, 2012) on how I view both classroom dynamics and research contexts; and, “PART 4 – Occasioning Emergence Through Métissage” presents métissage as a research and textual praxis (Blood, Chambers, Donald, Hasebe-Ludt, &

Big Head, 2012)—aligned with my life experiences and research interests, in bringing together stories that create educational openings by speaking multi-voiced truths into the world—to explore flood curriculum, as presented through the stories of youth. Then, I share “Why

Stories?” are at the heart of this critical work.

Glossary of Terms

While many of the terms used in this dissertation are explained in greater depth in the upcoming chapters, I offer my brief definitions here to aid in reading the “Research Overview” and signal the section headings where further discussions and references can be found.

Terms bricolage: Bricolage is an approach to research that recognizes the complexities of the world and of the research context, such that the researcher does not enter into the work with a fixed plan tied to a single or set methodology. It requires the researcher to be responsive and well-versed in a variety of tools and methods. The interdisciplinarity of the bricolage is shaped by the object and nature of the inquiry itself. (see “Bricolage and the Work of the Bricoleur”) bricoleur: The bricoleur is the person/ researcher who employs bricolage. They recognize that knowledge is in flux and use the tools at hand and engage multiple methodologies to create a bricolage that reflects the dynamic relationships at play within research contexts. (see “Bricolage and the Work of the Bricoleur”) emancipatory: Emancipatory describes the act of freeing someone or something from social or political constraints through critical analysis, consciousness raising, and action. (see “Paulo Freire”) generative dialogue: A generative dialogue is a conversation around a specific issue or topic that invites analysis and interpretations from multiple perspectives towards robust understandings and knowledge creation. holism: Holism is a recognition of the situatedness and relationships within a given context. While individual components might be identified and discussed, holism maintains a view to the dynamic relationships between the components as essential to the complex whole. holistic well-being: Holistic well-being considers emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical well-being as essential aspects of living well in the world, while also recognizing relationships between self, others, and the more-than-human world. (see “Seeing My Conceptual Framework” and “Holistic Guidance and Critical Analysis”)

3 meaning making: Meaning making is a sense-making process where discussions, ideas, and interpretations are synthesized and articulated anew. métissage: Métissage is a weaving together of texts—often autobiographical, historical, and/or literary—from various perspectives to create a new interpretive whole. Read together, the voices in the métissage share points of affinity while recognizing differences. (see “PART 4 – Occasioning Emergence Through Métissage”) positioning: Positioning is the practice of introducing particular information about oneself upfront in research and writing, often including: who you are, where you come from, what you believe about your role, and how you have come to the work. (see “Research Overview”) simulacra: Simulacra, as described by Jean Baudrillard (1988), are simulations of the real that take on idealized or hyper-real existences that become more recognizable than the original objects. storied métissage: Storied métissage weaves together the narratives of research participants around a specific topic or theme. When the accounts are read against each other, the shared elements of the stories are heightened and the differences are contrasted. (see “What is Storied Métissage?”) storywork: Storywork is a research methodology that privileges stories as viable and valuable sources of information. Holism, inter-relatedness, synergy, respect, reverence, responsibility, and reciprocity are the guiding principles of Jo-ann Archibald’s (2008a, 2008b) Indigenous storywork methodology. (see “Story and Storywork”)

Research Overview

Positioning

I put myself forward in my research and show my face (Absolon & Willett, 2005;

Kincheloe, McLaren, & Steinberg, 2011; Kovach, 2009; Smith, 2012), as a Métis woman, flood survivor, educator, scholar, and storyteller. I bring all aspects of myself to the work, unable to partition off or compartmentalize parts of who I am—a whole being in life and research. From

4 my unique combination of life experiences, circumstances, and specializations, I see myself situated at the heart of this work. I have long lived with the residue of intergenerational traumas—including displacement, loss of community, identity shaming, and cultural oppression—brought about by colonization. The 2013 floods re-created similar hardships for myself and my community, without the malice of intent. We were dislodged from place both physically and psychologically. The town became unrecognizable. We struggled with and against each other. Nearly seven years have passed, yet our community is still rebuilding—mud stained and broken in parts—physically and emotionally. I am interested in the well-being of the flood survivors, myself included, as evidenced in the stories we tell.

Global Crises

In a time of global pandemics and social distancing, rushing floodwaters and raging wildfires, ruinous hurricanes and destructive earthquakes, whole communities are being devastated by human-made catastrophes, natural disasters, and large-scale weather events. Media coverage provides an immediate picture of the sweeping damage and emergency response; but as the stories fade from global consciousness, the survivors are left with a massive project—to remove the wreckage and rebuild their lives.

Fires are decisive, they take everything in their path. Victims may choose to rebuild or move on from the smoke and ash. Floods may wash away whole houses, but in most cases the survivors are left to dig out the remnants of their belongings and determine what can be saved?

Regardless of the different paths people choose—staying to rebuild, or moving on to new lives— there are consequences and repercussions that cannot be fully anticipated or known. Returning to life-as-usual is seldom possible.

Research Context

On June 19th, 2013, floodwaters surged through the town of High River. By midday, the mayor had declared a state of emergency. Thousands of residents were evacuated. Some were rescued by boat; others were airlifted off roofs. Loaders and manure trucks ambled down roadways turned rivers, carrying citizens to safety. People sat stranded atop cars and trucks; they barely made it to safety out of their windows and moon roofs, as the rushing waters filled the cabs of their overtaken vehicles. The news coverage was dramatic. The Canadian Forces were brought in to survey, secure, and safeguard the town. For over a week, community members were kept out—wondering and waiting.

No one was spared from this disaster. The hospital was evacuated. Seniors’ homes were displaced. Despite seeing a significant spike in age-related deaths around and during the time of the flood, the elderly who deceased were not factored into the disaster-related death toll. Schools and daycares brought children to evacuation centres. Some were moved multiple times: first to higher ground, then to neighbouring towns. It took until late in the evening for all children to be re-united with their parents. There is no telling the long-term effects of the prolonged separation.

Children of all ages continue to reference the flood as the cause of worry, fear, sleep deprivation, sadness, and loss. The high-school-aged students were no exception.

The graduating class evacuated their school less than two weeks before graduation. Many did not write final exams or walk the hallways with the satisfaction or apprehension of a final day in high school. Their graduation ceremony did not take place in the park in the center of town in front of family and friends. Instead of parties and/or rites of passage, the end of school was marked, for many, by the return to flood-ravaged homes in a devastated community. The financial hardships were staggering, as the floods were estimated to be the costliest disaster in

Canadian history (Pomeroy, Stewart, & Whitfield, 2016) at the time of the event. Some students had summer jobs lined-up that never materialized. Others had plans to go away to school in the fall, but did not go. Some students went away to university, but could not handle the feelings of great loss and sadness alone. The disaster has impacted their life trajectories. How could it not?

What might we learn from their stories?

I consider the transition from life-in-school to life-out-of-school in schools to be a vulnerable time, typically marked by changes to: living arrangements, peer groups, responsibilities related to adulthood, and day-to-day life. Add to it the experience of a natural disaster and the group becomes twice vulnerable. My research asked: What can we learn to better support this vulnerable population: before, during, and after disaster?

Questions I Continually Asked Myself

What were the experience of young adults transitioning from life-in-schools to life-out- of-schools, during and after a natural disaster?

• How are youth prepared to deal with the initial event and long-term recovery after a disaster? • In what ways were they supported? • In what ways were they rendered helpless? • What stories do they tell and re-tell? • What stories do they hold back? • How do their relationships to people and place change over time? • What, if anything, is lost after a disaster? • What remains after a disaster?

Questions I Asked of the Participants

• What has life been like for you since graduation? • What has been challenging? • What have been your supports?

• When people ask you about the flood, what responses do you give? • Are there stories you have told again and again? • Are there stories you have not told? • How has your relationship to High River changed over time? • How have your relationships to your peers and friends changed, or stayed the same? • What have been the hardest lessons in life since high school? • Is there anything you wish you could have told yourself six years ago about how these last six years would go? • Is there anything that you would have done differently if you could? • Is there anything that you are particularly proud of doing? • What advice would you give other youth who are facing life after a disaster? • What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through a disaster?

Frameworks

Relationships of mutual respect, honesty, and trust are essential to Indigenous research methodologies (Archibald, 2008a, 2008b; Smith, 2012; Wilson, 2008). In this work, I am both an insider and outsider (Innes, 2009; Madden, 2010)—I am an insider to the potentially traumatic event (Norris, Galea, Friedman, & Watson, 2006) and an outsider to the individual experiences of the 2013 graduates. By sharing my own flood stories auto/biographically (see Chapter 1,

PARTS 1-4), I take a critical stance (Kincheloe, 2005a) and look to raise consciousness around individual and shared experiences of the disaster in relation to the town and its recovery process

(see Markides, 2020b). Elsewhere, I have engaged arts-based research practices, combining contemplative photography with place study (see Markides, 2018b, 2020b) to illuminate my relationship with the Highwood River, and to critique the Baudrillardian simulacra (1988) of post-flood life amidst the film sets in downtown High River. Further to these works, I interrogate self in relation to culture through self-reflective dialogue (Denzin & Lincoln, 2003; Kovach,

2009; Wall, 2006). I draw from Graveline’s Circle Works (1998), writing in the first-person voice, speaking the truth, and telling my own story—towards transforming eurocentric [sic] paradigms.

The method of gathering participants’ stories reflects Archibald’s Indigenous storywork principles of “respect, responsibility, reciprocity, reverence, holism, inter-relatedness, and synergy” (2008a, p. ix). While conducting research within a transformative—critical and

Indigenous—paradigm, the ontological assumption is one of multiple socially-constructed realities, epistemologically speaking (Mertens, 2007). Mertens writes that the epistemological grounding is in the relationship between the researcher and the research participants, with emphasis on establishing trust and understanding culture. The qualitative, storywork methodology hinges on the quality of the relationship between the researcher and the research participants, where power relations are explicitly addressed. The axiological is anchored in ethical relationships, built upon mutual respect, reciprocity, and actions taken towards social justice. As I attended to and storied the information shared in the ethnographic interviews—I aimed to listen and write, ethically and holistically.

I followed the lead of Indigenous/ally and critical storytellers, including but not limited to: Four Arrows, Thomas King, bell hooks, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson, Peter Cole, Fyre

Jean Graveline, Jo-ann Archibald, Margaret Kovach, and Julie Cruikshank. These scholars, in their own unique ways, bring to bear the work of Paulo Freire (1970/1993): raising critical consciousness, addressing inequalities, naming deeply rooted oppressive forces, and confronting the persistent culture of domination. Critical scholarship looks to identify and name oppressive structures—such as hegemonic and colonizing systems—where Indigenous scholarship focuses on decolonizing and Indigenizing projects centred on establishing and maintaining ethical

9 relationships (Archibald, 2008a, 2008b; Donald, 2009, 2011, 2012; Ermine 1995; Kovach, 2009;

Smith, 2012; Wilson, 2008) that respect the perspectives and ways-of-being of all people, having care and respect that extends beyond humans to the more-than-human world (Abram, 1996;

Markides, 2020a). In these ways, I looked to identify and name the over-arching—cultural and contextual—power dynamics that hold back or empower the research participants, as evidenced in their stories. I questioned: Are there barriers specific to the experiences of young adults? Are there barriers specific to victims of flood?

Considering the slow pace of rebuilding and recovery, I wondered about the ongoing effects of witnessing—waiting, wanting, watching, and/or ignoring—micro and macro changes.

Living through the aftermath is an apt description of life after a natural disaster. There are no shortcuts to getting past the work that is needed to rebuild. In the case of the flood, many homes and buildings needed to be taken down; some were left in disrepair and uninhabitable for several years. Some buildings were torn down and left as vacant lots, while other lots saw new construction right away. Individual homes needed remediation to varying degrees and were repaired along financially determined timelines. Physical restoration was clearly visible; while the mental, emotional, and spiritual work was less easily discerned.

I entered into this work with an ethic of care (Gilligan, 1982; Noddings, 1984, 2012); in hopes of creating ethical spaces of engagement (Ermine, 1995); and following a holistic framework and Indigenous methodology (Archibald, 2008a, 2008b) that values and honours relationships. In doing so, I recognized the potential for participants to re-live their losses

(Ferreria, Buttell & Ferreria, 2015) while we learned together through remembrance, respecting difference and relationality (Simon, Rosenberg & Eppert, 2000). Taking up the difficult knowledge in the many ways Britzman has interpreted and re-interpreted this term over time

(1998, 2000, 2013; Pitt & Britzman, 2003), I worked to address the affective dimensions of surviving the flood.

For flood survivors, it can be difficult to make sense of the event. The incidents and damages were complex happenings, which acted on and within a person all at once. Many factors were outside of our control. Considering the affective dimensions holistically, I have looked to tease apart the physical, cognitive, emotional, and spiritual ways of knowing the experience; this is the lens with which I viewed the stories shared. I considered flood survivance to be a multi-layered and multi-faceted construct; viewing the phenomenon holistically and with the distance of time, I have worked with the participants to gain clarity from our stories and tried to make sense of the potentially harmful and prolonged effects of living through the disaster.

Methods

In this qualitative study (Denzin & Lincoln, 2003), I recruited participants through word of mouth, posters (see Appendix A: Participant Recruitment Poster) around town, and posters on public Facebook pages dedicated to serving High River residents. I did not approach participants directly. Each one reached out to me, and I did not ask how they heard about the study.

At mutually agreeable times, I met with the young adults in person or over the phone. I conducted ethnographic interviews—where I attended to the one-on-one dialogues as a means of learning from their individual experiences, and considered their stories alongside each other to gain insight into the shared experiences of the youth as a unique cultural group—with nine young adults from the 2013 graduating class who lived in and around High River, Alberta during the time of the flood. Following Archibald’s (2008a, 2008b) Indigenous storywork methodology,

I invited them to share stories from their lives over the past six years. The interviews were recorded for transcription and thematic coding, and were the source material for the storied

11 métissage sections. All of the participants were sent their interview transcripts for accuracy and approval—to get the stories right and to tell them well (Smith, 2012). One participant asked to make changes to their transcript during the first member checking stage of the research.

Through storied métissage, I wove together pieces of the participants’ stories, considering: what could be learned from the experiences of youth during and post-flood. Using and adapting the Indigenous holistic framework I understood as being aligned with life and living well (Elder Bob Cardinal, personal communication, September, 2016 to July, 2017, &

May 7, 2020; University of Alberta, 2016), I engaged the holistic teachers in generative dialogue around the emergent themes. Then, I considered the meaning-making that transpired from the discussions, in relation to the holistic well-being of the youth. Again, I shared the work with the research participants; their responses further supported and strengthened the work. Based on the feedback of two participants, I further anonymized the stories and made a few minor changes based on their suggestions.

Potential Significance

From massive floods and raging fires, to truth and reconciliation, and now the COVID-19 pandemic, natural and human-made disasters create deep scars and devastating legacies across the fabric of Canada. The experiences carry forward in the stories that are told, echoing of prolonged hardship, hope, and healing. For the most vulnerable populations, the challenges of daily life are amplified immensely after catastrophic events. This study asked: How do the youth, entering into adulthood, survive disaster? The responses to this question and findings from this study hold the promise to inform: educational practices, disaster response programs, youth counseling, parenting initiatives, community outreach, and governmental policies. This study stands to benefit all stakeholders looking to support youth in the wake of a disaster.

One study conducted with youth after Hurricane Katrina focused on the psychological well-being of the participants two years after the event and measured general psychological distress and post-traumatic stress (Blaze & Shwalb, 2009). John Blaze and David Shwalb’s study found that displaced adolescents had a greater incident of psychological trauma, with self-esteem and optimism being important predictors (p. 320). While this research is helpful in identifying adolescents in need of psychological interventions, it does not provide a clear picture of the day- to-day experiences of youth who are living through a natural disaster. The clinical assessment focuses on individuals, where social research considers the collective. Both types of research are necessary to support individuals and groups within a disaster-affected community.

In this study, the stories of the young adults were used to create a more fulsome understanding of their shared experience. Qualitative study illuminates the societal factors that quell or exacerbate the psychological symptoms. Through storywork, the power shifts back to the participants, rather than lying solely with the researcher, and supports collective action to make positive changes for the group in question. Participants’ voices are invited, respected, and honoured as cornerstones of the Indigenous research methodology for story gathering. Through the sharing of stories, the research participants and I have created a legacy of our experience together as woven through the storied métissage (see Chapter 3).

In Indigenous communities, storytelling is an important part of education—a means by which to teach and share customs, values, and beliefs (Little Bear, 2000). Stories are told in ceremony to preserve history, honour ancestors, and offer guidance for future generations.

Stories are also a teaching tool (Archibald, 2008a; Kovach, 2009). I believe that storytelling can be a source of strength, power, and healing in my community too. Borrowing the metaphor of stories as stones from Teresa Strong-Wilson (2008), I would like to collect the stones together—

13 such that they smooth in places and expose in others—towards critical consciousness of flood survival.

Stories provide insight into our experiences and perceptions of the world. They can be fantastical, but are never fully divorced from the world in which they were created (Bakhtin,

1981). Stories are socially constructed (Archibald, 2008a; Bakhtin, 1981; Cruikshank, 1998;

Kovach, 2009). By gathering stories with participants living through disaster, the research had the power to expose oppressive forces and otherwise undocumented experiences of youth. In this way, this socially-engaged and community-based research project held potential to become emancipatory for the people involved, including the research participants, the researcher, and the greater community (Smith, 2012).

Who am I to Engage in this Research?

Dialogues open the possibility that we may learn something about the process of communication, about how words are used to construct meaningful accounts of life experience. In this way they differ fundamentally from structured interviews, where one of the participants claims the right to both pose the questions and interpret the responses. (Cruikshank, 1998, p. 25)

As the above statement from Cruikshank suggests, I could not hold all of the power and control in the research relationship if I hoped to learn anything from the co-participants. As such,

I turned to the work of Linda Tuhiwai Smith and considered related aspects of her Decolonizing

Methodologies (2012). I began by answering Smith’s questions (pp. 175-176) as they pertained to my research in relation to the participant group. While I had identified the research problem, I aimed to make the study meaningful to the young adults involved. By keeping the interviews dialogic in nature, I fostered a space for the participants to tell me what was important—from their perspectives—to learn/know about their experiences in life since the flood. Although I pursued this research with the hope of earning a doctorate; I, above all else, wanted my work to

14 be a platform for young adults to share their insights with other youth preparing for life after high school and also those youth living through disaster. Relief organizations, community members, and families, may also use this learning to better support students who are graduating in the wake of a disaster.

I anticipated that it might be challenging for the participants to tell parts of their stories— the ups and downs of their years since high school. As such, I offered examples of resources that were available to anyone who expressed or demonstrated continued grief, loss, sadness, or anxiety. The research call, itself, may have attracted some people in need of support. I tried to be accountable to the participants, above all else. It was my responsibility to be watchful and mindful that all persons living through disaster are considered vulnerable (Ferreria, Buttell &

Ferreria, 2015; Norris, Galea, Friedman, & Watson, 2006) and to know what resources were available to the participants, and/or myself.

Beyond the gathering of stories, I am committed to the project of “story telling” (Smith,

2012, p. 145). While Smith describes the importance of story telling [sic] as an Indigenous research project, I believe that the value of this research method applies to other peoples and populations as well. As Cruikshank (1990) and Louie (2016) included whole stories from the participants involved in their studies, I have brought the participants’ voices together in storied métissage and left the stories intact.

For reasons of circumstance, I was well-positioned to conduct post-flood research in my community. As Smith asserts:

Community-based researchers...are so well placed within the community to document what is happening at a local level over long periods of time. They have the advantages and disadvantages of being eye witnesses to events and their aftermath; they lend a

different kind of evidentiary authority because of the immediacy of their context. (pp. 224-225)

Thus, I am an insider to the flood experience, which was beneficial for building trust with participants and for recognizing the places, contexts, events, details, and subtleties of their stories.

As Smith describes, community is a broad term that can apply to groups that meet varying conditions. Some community groups cohere despite isolation and marginal spaces— perhaps even in the wake of disaster. Smith explains that “social research at community level is often referred to as community action research or emancipatory research. Both approaches are models which seek to make a positive difference in the conditions or lives of people” (p.130). I have remained committed to this position in my research, where the work must improve conditions or the lives of people within my community, the participant group, and others living through disaster. The goal of improving lives and conditions may seem a lofty one; but, it is commensurate with the intentions of critical and Indigenous research methodologies and practices. Within my context as a critical, Indigenous educator, I have welcomed the emancipatory, relational, and educational aspects of this work.

PART 1 – A Flood Story Dark Clouds and Persistent Rain

Life in the George Lane Park campground was more than enjoyable. It was as though we were perpetually camping. We had what we needed to make school lunches, dress for work, and entertain two little boys each day despite the weather. On the sunny days we went for bike rides through town and ate dinner at the picnic table outside. Derek and I took turns going to Colossi’s

Coffee Shop at night for their Internet access, as we were both finishing our master’s papers in mid-June. The arrangement was working nicely. We had tenants living in our house only one

16 block away; we were in our home-away-from-home, saving money for our move to Macao. I took our laundry to our neighbours’ house a couple times a week, allowing me another opportunity for Wi-Fi, So You Think You Can Dance, popcorn, and a visit. Cara makes the best popcorn.

Then the rain came—hard, pounding, persistent rain. Ashwin asked if the woodpeckers were going to wreck our trailer—the beautiful imagination of a four-year-old.

On June 20, 2013 our lives were changed.

Derek had the boys out the door by 7:00am and I was right behind them for my drive into the city. There was a knock on the foggy trailer door. I couldn’t see through the window and I had that moment of panic. I jumped to lock the door. “Who’s there?” I asked. “It’s the police ma’am,” came a stern voice. “How do I know you are the police?” I persisted. “Well if you open your door, you will see that I’m in my uniform,” he replied matter-of-factly. There wasn’t much more I could do than trust the voice on the other side of the thin trailer-wall. I opened the door to see that an officer was indeed standing there. I began to apologize for my reluctance to open my door to a stranger. He told me that we were on flood notice, you might need to move your trailer today—not yet, but we will let you know. I thanked him for his kindness and called Derek on

Bluetooth as I drove out of town. The water on the train bridge was the highest I had ever seen it.

I stopped and snapped a picture. According to friends, I was one of the last vehicles allowed to cross before they closed the bridge that day. By 10:00am Derek was told that if he did not come now, he wouldn’t be getting our temporary trailer home out of the park. With a friend along to help, Derek sped through town, hooked up, dumped the sewer tank—because that is what you do—and drove around the block to check on our renters. They were getting ready to leave and had put boards in front of the basement windows. He pulled up to check on Cara, who was just

17 packing an overnight bag for her and her two boys—it should only be a night or two. Derek’s teacher colleague walked to the end of the street to look over the berm, as the water began to crest the hill. He ran back to the truck while water rushed over the banks and down the streets.

As they pulled the trailer towards the traffic circle the water was at least halfway up the tires— they were escaping, not a minute too soon.

The Unknown

We pulled our trailer into Derek’s parents’ driveway on the property they share with his sister near Delacour. The television in their living room showed nearly constant news coverage of the flood unfolding throughout downtown Calgary and much of southern Alberta. There was nothing to do but to wait and hope. The flood was affecting everyone from High River. We were scattered to the wind, leaning on the kindness of family, friends, and strangers. The news was repeating; nothing changing—waiting and hoping. I, however, had plenty of distractions with report card comments to finalize and the master’s paper to finish too—again, no Wi-Fi. Our trailer was peaceful, an escape from family and speculation.

School was cancelled for the students in Calgary, but I had to go to work for those last three days. I packed up my classroom, preparing to leave my school family of the last eight years—the timing was bad. The principal came around to remind me that I still needed to schedule my meetings to close my eight individualized program plans (IPPs) for the students who were coded with having specific learning needs. With each call, I had to respond to the caring questions of the families I’d grown close to over the years and recount our situation blow- by-blow. No, we didn’t know about our house, our possessions piled high in the basement storage, or when we would be allowed back in. They offered support, couches, gift cards for dinners out, and so much more. It was kind, but it was a lot to live and relive. No, we haven’t

18 heard about insurance, they are not answering their phones, and all we can do is hope. No, we don’t know if the water is in our house. No, I don’t know all the people who drowned, at least one I’d seen around town, but I didn’t know them personally—so sad—so much loss.

Derek was lucky, his school division didn’t require the High River teachers to go in.

They understood; they were in the same boat—pun intended—waiting and hoping, in the unknown.

Stories Told and Re-Told

Andrea was trying to move pictures up from the basement of her home when the windows were blown out; water rushing in with the power of a fire hose knocked her off her feet as she clambered up the stairs. She went to the roof with her dog and waited to be rescued. The water had been only an inch up her tires when she had last called her mom, now her car was submerged. Eventually a frontend loader approached her house and the driver beckoned her into the bucket; just then, the tires began to float off the ground in the rising waters and he gently placed her back on the roof. She waited there with her dog until a boat came by, and they were taken to safety.

Our doctor—two doors down from us—rode in the back of a manure truck with a woman in labour and a man with heart trouble. He passed his dog to the leader of the Wild Rose Party.

She held the dog while he monitored the patients on the slow-moving vessel. When Scout started to fuss, she handed him back to the doctor. He joked, “He must be a Liberal dog.” She responded, “This is a Non-partisan manure truck.” Everyone laughed.

Did you hear about the dog they found swimming in a room for nine days? Once rescued, he ate four bowls of dog food and went to sleep for two straight days—a survivor—a legend.

With the Help of Family and Friends

On July 1st, Canada Day, we were allowed back into our house after 10 days…for the first time. We met the tenants in the driveway and made our way into our mud-filled basement.

They searched the living room and two bedrooms for any of their belongings worth saving. Their adult kids had been living there…“visiting” in their words, as not to be in breach of their rental agreement. We viewed the bathroom where most of the sewer backup—mud in this case—had entered our house through the drain; the splatter on the walls of the shower was a reminder of the force by which it entered. The police and/or army had kicked in the door to the storage room at the front of the house, as they searched the residences house-by-house for survivors, victims, and pets; not firearms and contraband, as portrayed by those anti-establishment-paranoid-skeptics seen in the news. The boot mark was huge—a single kick to dislodge the lock that protected our leather couches, bedroom suite, winter wear, and art. As I pulled open the drawers, the depth of the water was revealed. Waist-high drawers were still filled with water. Each couch cushion weighed a ton—waterlogged and heavy—one trip each up the stairs to the unsalvageable pile.

Our friend Jordan arrived midway through the first day, his house in the Northwest was one of the few untouched by the flood. He and his wife had opened their doors to us, providing us residence for the duration of our remediation work. We redid our entire basement within two weeks: ripped it all out, and put it all back.

The door to the second storage room was swollen shut. Since we had just packed it with all of our possessions, I knew where everything was on the shelves. My hope chest of photos was stacked near the wall—Rubbermaid first, then hope chest #1 and hope chest #2. Derek broke through the wall he had just built two months earlier. The gyp rock crumbled as he pulled hope chest #1 toward himself. I braced it, while he broke the wall away. A case slipped out—our

20 wedding picture CD—he pulled it from the mud by our feet. Lifting out the cedar chest; it was our first salvage of the day. Derek hefted it up the stairs and placed it on the back of the flatbed behind the truck. I lifted the lid to the second hope chest—antique clothes swimming in water. I crawled through the makeshift door to the shelf where I knew our wedding album had been, shoulder high against the back wall. I reached past a soggy box and retrieved them, safe—more salvage.

As the day went on we filled an eighty cubic yard dumpster with the possessions and contents of our household. My brother arrived from Kelowna that night, ready to pitch in for as long as the job would take. The flatbed looked empty with two pairs of skis, fly-fishing gear— water resistant, one hope chest, and two bags of quilts—one dry, one soaking—to be washed and rewashed in hopes of saving them. There were also two finger paintings, made by our boys in

May: they moulded in our friends’ garage by the next afternoon—not salvageable.

Friends, teachers, and family arrived early the next morning as we continued to purge the mud-soaked boxes, dripping mattresses, and swollen teaching totes—two men per tote because wet books are heavy. By lunchtime the basement was empty and we began removing the carpets, walls, and ceilings. It was more difficult to flag down a driver to take the bin by the second day and even more difficult to have a third bin dropped off. Eventually we got one, as the pile in the driveway grew. So many trips up the stairs, my body ached, the strength was coming from somewhere deep within. We carried on. Demolition. Scrubbing. Drying. Reframing. Rebuilding.

Refinishing. With a different team each day, we finished our eleven hundred square foot basement renovation by July 14th, five days after our oldest son’s fourth birthday. Nathan left for home, missing his own wife and young children. We turned the keys back over to our tenants, more square-footage for them without our belongings taking up space.

Life in Macao—There’s No Place Like Home

We were able to leave for Macao on schedule. It was a-half-a-world-away from our lives: the flood, family, and friends. Our new school was well-run and our life was easy with the support of a helper in our household. We should have been happy. Our quality of life was very good: teaching, travelling, and going out. Our renters gave notice and moved out before

Christmas.

Choosing renters from that distance proved challenging. We chose poorly and ended up with con artists living in our newly finished home. They convinced our trusting friend that there was a problem at their bank, she gave them the keys, and we never saw a single payment. They lived in our house rent-free for nearly two months, making requests for repairs and subletting without ever paying so much as a damage deposit. By the time the judge ruled to have them evicted, we had emotionally had enough. The only thing worse than having terrible renters, is having terrible renters and being too far away to do anything about it. We gave our notice to break contract with the school after only a year and made plans to fly home at the end of June. It was a difficult decision, but it was a difficult year to be away so soon after the flood. High River friends told us that we were lucky, not having to live through the aftermath. Instead, we were in a state of suspended animation—waiting to return, to grieve, and to heal.

Homecoming

We arrived home to High River on Canada Day, one year to the day since we returned to our house after the evacuation. George Lane Park was being re-opened, a symbol of the rebirth of the town—the heart of High River. We were back in our community, among friends and neighbours, and ready to rebuild our lives at home.

PART 2 – No One Knew We Would End Up Like This

Dark Times and Persistent Pain

It has been more than six years since the flood, yet we are all still surviving it. There are buildings that still need to come down; there are roads in the downtown that are perpetually closed; and, there are shops that re-open and close again. In some cases, opportunistic con artists posed as renovators and swindled residents, our friends and neighbours, out of their insurance money. Hardships linger from the flood—below the surface—hidden, but present. Incidents of divorce, crime, bankruptcy, alcoholism, abuse, and depression, all increased in the aftermath.

Suicide and accidents related to drugs and alcohol were noticeable biproducts of the disaster.

Many people—youth included—were feeling hopeless from the loss. No one was untouched.

What is Education for?

Pre- and post- flood, I became increasingly attuned to the social, emotional and psychological needs of my students. What is going on in the world that has so many young people struggling with, and often diagnosed with, anxiety and depression at such young ages?

The curriculum expectations driven by content are of little relevance to students in crisis, dealing with issues of: identity, self-esteem, relationships, anxiety, trauma, or loss. I found myself deeply at odds with the curriculum I was expected to teach and the curriculum I wanted to teach based on the needs of my students. Where is the nurturance and care in curriculum?

As a Montessori educator, I have long practiced a child-centred approach to teaching and learning. My goal has been to foster independence and responsibility through purposeful work

(Montessori, 1948/1976). We approach concepts from the big picture—where does this fit in the world past and present—drawing again on the interconnectedness of everything in life.

Influenced by my master’s program that centered on complexity theory in education

(Davis, Sumara, & Luce-Kapler, 2008), I have come to value the importance of collectivity in learning. I am now placing more emphasis on shared learning opportunities and collaborative experiences.

Regardless of my focus—individual or collective—I am still limited by the constraints of the programs of study and values of the school division. As such, I am troubled by the present state of our education system. Accountability is determining school goals—what is measurable, based on student achievement scores, and how can we ensure improvement. Assessment is driving teaching practice—beginning with the end in mind by using Understanding by Design

(UbD) (Wiggins & McTighe, 2005). Outcomes are precluding inquiry—how can we really truly inquire when the course of learning is predetermined in a lock-step plan. Are we teaching course content and areas of specialization, or are we teaching children how to question, explore, and make sense of their world? Which is placed first in the language of schools and classrooms?

In asking these and other questions, I am critical of the educational discourse being espoused and enacted in schools. Who is responsible for the programming and perpetuating the accountability machine? What is this doing to/for students? What is valued in this system?

Efficiency. Productivity. Results. Teacher professional development is then focused on punitive remediation, seeking to fix teachers who cannot produce the desired results; Michael Apple

(1986/2013) describes the process of “de-skilling” and “re-skilling” teachers—the equivalent of wiping the hard drive and re-installing new software. Students are reduced to measurable test scores, data points fixed in a moment of time to be measured against at a later date.

I have worked from within this system, carving out time for imposed character development and other add-on programs that did not adequately address the needs of the

24 students. The increasing demands and mounting expectations make teaching a tenuous position. I remember feeling like I was perpetually behind, constantly failing, and never doing enough to meet the needs of the students. Despite my years of experience, master’s degree, and passion for teaching, I could never do enough; I am not sure I could ever be enough for the job. How can I go through my whole teaching career never believing in the ideologies being imposed upon me?

I can’t.

Now, I am hoping to work from outside of the system—to observe, listen, interpret, and narrate with a critical eye—to learn from and with the stories told by young adults living through disaster. I believe I can make a difference in education, not in the cliché sense of the phrase, but in a grassroots, meaningful, growing out of the mud kind of way—a lotus of hope. How do we make sense of this? Grow? Recover? Heal? Teach?

The Nature of Flood Recovery

The beavers have come back to their home along the river, right where it bends through town. The deer are out on our street again—the deer superhighway, as I used to call it on the nights I was up nursing our youngest. There is evidence of resiliency all around: squirrels stowing food, plants propagating anew, ladybugs rebounding after a collapse of their colonies, and birds returning to familiar nesting grounds.

If we look to the land, the plants, the animals, the river, and the banks, we can see renewal. We need to look inward to see where the strength lies, where the healing begins, and where hope resides in the human.

The Nurture in Flood Recovery

I want to explore the stories of youth—not about the flood; not unearthing past traumas— but learning about their life experiences after the disaster. What teachings have grown out of the

25 mud that overflowed, stuck, and stained our town? There is fertile ground here, not to be exploited, but gently and responsibly cultivated.

PART 3 – Personal Positioning within the Research Context

Complex Classrooms and Competing Sensibilities

When I consider my own positionality as a Métis woman and educational researcher and my lenses, paradigms, theories, and theoretical frameworks, I am informed by my experiences as a classroom teacher. These experiences have been rich and fulfilling, leading me to a place in graduate studies.

As a Montessori educator, I used a child-centred approach to teaching and learning; it was useful in personalizing instruction for cognitive engagement in independent tasks, and fostering confidence and competence at the individual level. However, I was aware of simultaneous tensions in the form of the students’ social and emotional needs for belonging. In response to the diverse and emergent needs—both explicitly expressed and implicitly inferred—I embraced a more holistic approach to teaching, critically and intuitively theorizing about the importance of both the individual and the “collective” (Davis, Sumara, & Luce-Kapler, 2008) within the “complex system” of the classroom. I have experienced a sense of success in teaching when I have intentionally focused on the social and emotional well-being of my students in relation to themselves, each other, and their place in the world.

At this point, I want to formalize my intuitive beliefs and understandings through research and positioning in education. Informed by these views, I accept that my way of being as a researcher is an extension of myself as an educator. I intuitively engaged participants with an ethic of care (Gilligan, 1982; Noddings, 1984, 2012), seeking to understand the complex nature

26 of their experiences and circumstances from a holistic approach as I witnessed and represented their stories.

PART 4 – Occasioning Emergence Through Métissage

Métissage enables us to interrogate difference as inherited from colonization and globalization and as sedimented in socio-historical formations such as language, nation, class and race. (Hasebe-Ludt, Chambers, & Leggo, 2009, p. 35)

Literary métissage… is a way to generate, represent and critique knowledge through writing and braiding autobiographical texts. As research, literary métissage not only describes experience; it is a strategy for interpreting those experiences as documented. (Hasebe-Ludt, Chambers, & Leggo, 2009, p. 34)

The usefulness of texts of métissage to the field of curriculum studies is in the ways that they can demonstrate connectivity while also simultaneously re-cognizing difference. By drawing on multiple sources and contexts, creating texts of métissage can provoke a collective wondering regarding the connectedness of history, memory, and story. (Blood, Chambers, Donald, Hasebe-Ludt, & Big Head, 2012, p. 48)

Acknowledging the Threads

Narcisse Blood, Cynthia Chambers, Dwayne Donald, Erika Hasebe-Ludt, and Ramona

Big Head (2012) weave together poignant and profound narratives from Canadian and North

American histories, threading Indigenous knowings exemplified in the oral story-telling traditions and raw personal experiences into métissage. The authors ground their stories in connection to land: people, place and time. As introduced by Blackfoot Elder Narcisse Blood,

Dwayne Mistaken Chief describes Blackfoot ways of being (protocols) with-in relationship to self (first), others, and the world. The stories tell of the expected and accepted practices, without which respectful relationships and interactions would fail to exist.

Bringing together many voices, Blood et al. (2012) weave together narratives of:

- the decline, reintroduction, and loss of the buffalo;

- the ceremonies and traditions—dance, drums, Elder relations and teachings;

- the struggles/burdens/persistence of the magpies;

- the Northwest Resistance—conflicts arising from appropriation of lands/rights between

the Cree and Métis peoples and the Canadian government;

- the Baker Massacre—the brutal slaughter of Chief Heavy Runner’s camp;

- the twenty-three women taken from the streets of Vancouver’s downtown Eastside and

murdered;

- the loss of a child to suicide;

- the “dreams” and Indigenous wisdoms cautioning about the potential dangers prior to the

Frank Slide in Crowsnest Pass;

- the racism, genocides, and related adverse and oppressive intergenerational-effects of

colonization;

- the traditional stories foretelling/teaching/educating about the land, people, progress,

environmental-disaster and ruin;

- the Indigenous philosophy of energies and interconnectedness, and the stories of the large

rocks on the prairies;

- the internment and marginalization of Japanese-Canadian immigrant families during

World War II and the lack of respect and/or reparations since;

- the themes of continual uprooting, resiliency to overcome insurmountable adversity,

tragedy, loss, and appropriation of sacred/shared lands, rocks, symbols, and resources;

- and challenges of educating Indigenous students in non-Indigenous settings—

reconstituting story-telling traditions and empowering youth in the face of adversity.

The beauty and affect—emotional impact—of the métissage cannot be captured by (not)-simply teasing apart the stories and listing the elements as I have done above, but instead it comes through in the layering and intertwining to tell a single story in a collective voice.

Engaging, Interpreting, and Cohering

The research and textual praxis of métissage, as illustrated by Blood et al. (2012) resonates with my sensibilities as a teacher. I consider and plan with the intention of weaving together big ideas in collaboration with the classroom collective. We engage and share in a variety of learning tasks, experiences, and processes. The dialogue is open, ongoing, and reflective. We draw out each other’s stories, connections, ideas, and experiences to enhance our overall sense of our-selves, each other, and the world. Together we write the story of our year and no two years are ever the same. Each member brings their own personal perspectives, variety of strengths, background experiences and unique offerings.

Perhaps blending together multiple perspectives and applying a critical lens is deeply engrained in my being. Born of Métis heritage, I have grown up with a patchy understanding of my ancestry and family history. In social studies textbooks, Indigenous peoples are often described in a romantic way: they graciously helped early settlers to survive and explore the lands, often cast in the role of a “noble savage.” For years, I identified as being of Indigenous ancestry. At the time, I did not understand my dad’s reluctance to associate as such. He owned a paving company, worked hard to establish a good reputation, and maintained a facade of white-

Western-Canadian-middleclass male.

In Smithers B. C., during the eighties and nineties, our town had an “Indian problem.”

Yards on the neighbouring reserve were like junkyards, strewn with dilapidated cars, diapers and other garbage. There were stray dogs, “rez” dogs, roaming. Many windows on houses were

29 boarded up from being repeatedly vandalized and never replaced. In town, the problems were equally as visible. Pharmasave had to lock up all aerosol products because Lysol was frequently stolen and huffed in the bushes across the highway; we were taught to avoid cutting through that area.

Significantly, the downtown benches were all removed from the town overnight. I had guessed it was to stop the “Natives” from sleeping/passing out on them during the day; I learned through the schoolyard grapevine that an Indigenous man had passed out on a bench and another

Indigenous man had come along and committed an act of sodomy. The benches remained visibly absent for the remainder of my years there. I wonder who had decided that the benches were the problem? Perhaps it was easier to remove the municipal furnishings at the superficial level rather than addressing the underlying and deeply rooted issues of colonization, racism, segregation, substance abuse, degradation, physical abuse, isolation, and sexual abuse.

In my doctoral research, I am mindful of the wide spectrum of learning that happens in the classroom, extending beyond curricular outcomes to include social, emotional and psychological well-being. Often, people pre-suppose that students arrive at school prepared for the protocols of self-consciousness, self-confidence, self-awareness, self-regulation and with the knowledge and experience to navigate the subtle nuances of peer interactions—reading body language, tone, subtext, innuendo, data text, and relevance. Conversely, I believe that the protocols need to be established/shared/taught/practiced/lived in the contexts of the classroom, as part of active citizenship—in life. Without clearly established ways of being, the students inevitably and fatefully flounder/overstep/overstate/hurt-feelings/reciprocate-wrongs/self- scrutinize/self-chastize/self-defeat/self-deflate, and live out foretold failures.

Later, I learned about being Métis—the mixed race of European white-colonizers/fur- traders/settlers and First Nations women, a new culture/community of people who were marginalized to the fringes/ditches of society. My own particular “breed” was evidenced in marriage certificates between an “English man” and a “Swampy Cree woman,” and later a

“Scottish man” and a “Half breed.” It was exciting to trace my lineage in a more formal way, but

I am also sharply attuned to the language of the documents I was viewing. The words “half breed,” “mixed blood,” “colour: red,” “Cree woman” (instead of a name), and other classifications that were used in dehumanizing ways. I was most surprised to see that this language was still being used in our recent history; these writings stir emotions of shame and anger.

Thomas King (2003) humbly shares his own story about his absent father and gender- oppressed mother. He describes how the stories of his family have shaped him, his interactions, and connectedness to place. King provides insights and examples of the protocols important to life. He inspires environmental awareness through his fictional work, such as The Back of the

Turtle (2014), masterfully weaving together stories in métissage to create a sense-of/experience of: turmoil, loss, urgency, responsibility, interconnectedness, and hope.

In the classroom I feel akin to Thomas King’s (2014) character, “Nicholas Crisp.” I am not one of the lead characters, but I exist in the places that move the plot/story forward: guiding, supporting, observing, inquiring, probing, prodding, anticipating, orchestrating, perspective- sharing, hope-giving, artefact-holding, nourishment-providing, playfully-celebrating, gently- nudging, and patiently-waiting, as the story artfully enfolds and coalesces.

Under the tutelage of Dr. Peter Cole, I heard first-hand accounts of residential school survivors; I learned of the genocides that took place in these schools, and the countless others

31 who perished from the spreading of small pox and other un-provoked warfare. Little by little, I have started to make sense of my heritage/history/family/past. I am reconciling the two sides of my family as having opposite experiences of colonization/immigration and settlement. My mom’s grandparents came from Sweden, England, and Scotland, looking for new beginnings, possibilities, and employment. My dad’s grandparents came from Wales, Ireland, and communities in what is now Canada. Our Coast Salish and Cree relations were always here; they welcomed and accommodated the newcomers before being characterized as “savages.”

I walk in both worlds: not fully Indigenous, and not non-Indigenous. This tension is evident in my writing and how I conceive of my research. It appears in the range of literature that

I include, the juxtaposition of word choice, and seemingly competing ideas.

In my graduate studies, I have learned about perspectives and personal lenses. Aoki

(1983) shares his critical auto-ethnographic study as personal narrative. He draws attention to the mis/concept/ions of ethnicity as more than a yes/no question. My dad’s family members exhibit the rez-idual effects of colonization: marginalization and discrimination. They/we have internalized abuse and oppression to the point of self-marginalizing, self-disfiguring, and mis- treating as a means of toughening up for life’s challenges—a hard life. They/we repeat these actions for purposes of self-preservation, taking themselves/ourselves out of play; we’ll beat you to the punch—a punching that numbs us with hurt, racism, and degradation. My aunties and uncles use name-calling to proactively subvert the mocking and labelling by others. They do it in the vein of “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” which just might kill you, or hold you in the purgatory of un-life/un-living. I grew up with family members (un)affectionately named:

Porkness, The Beav, Cabbage, Snake, The Pope, Smokey and more. Always cutting. Always teasing. Always hurting. All My Relations.

When I think of the wisdom, experience, knowledge, and teachings of Elders, I understand the importance of honouring the time they have put into following protocols, listening, learning, and then teaching. Along similar lines, I would like to recognize the contributions of scholars who have helped shape my thinking. First, I must express my gratitude to Dr. Peter Cole for inspiring me to write in new/freeing ways, and for reminding me that belonging to a community does not come from a piece of paper, membership card, or government document; it is held in your heart, spirit, and ancestors. Next, I am grateful to

Narcisse Blood, Cynthia Chambers, Dwayne Donald, Erika Hasebe-Ludt, and Ramona Big Head

(2012) for exposing me to métissage in a bold, expressive, and re-awakening way. I am grateful to read into and engage with their scholarship. All My Relations.

Making a Case for Stories

Without the stories, there can be no knowledge and no understanding, no teaching and no learning, no shared history and therefore no shared future; we will continue in the un-knowing ways of mistreatment, mis(sed)-understandings, causing/creating/re-creating misfortunes anew.

If we do not know the stories, we may fail to see the signs. When the spirits penetrate our dreams with premonitions, warnings and visions, who will be listening? Had the Blackfoot still been passing through the High River area in 2013, might they have recognized the signs or experienced visions of the impending flood and moved camp to higher ground—evacuated? The abundance of cottonwoods is an ever-present, yet seldom heeded sign: Warning, floodplain! Just as the fires blazing in British Columbia’s Okanagan should come as no surprise. The ponderosa pine, native to the area, has a cone that only opens in the intense heat of a forest fire.

Who has the ability to read the signs posted by Mother Earth? Who will know the protocols for speaking with the land? When Creator throws the next rock, who will heed the

33 warnings about the land, the resources, and sustainability? Without the stories, there is no common language to discuss, question, and relate. The rock may be once again “taken” out of entitlement and not revered in its-self as a rock, as a part of, a piece of mind, knowing and giving of voice to a story: one of living in flux and semi-permanence towards re/claim/ation, re/par/ation, and re-new-all. Who will do the telling and who will be there to listen?

Why Stories?

I have long known the power of stories to shape my life, my thinking, and my experience.

Stories have moved me in ways that no formal research presentation ever could. Thomas King’s

(2003) Truth about Stories: A Native Narrative, has helped me to understand how political acts on both sides of the border have slowly eroded Indigenous people’s identities, rights, and numbers, effectively for hundreds of years. He has transported me to a creek bed in New Zealand during his time as a deer culler, and humorously shown me the potential for mis-understandings by calling two distinct groups by the same name, of Indians.

And while I have never experienced life as a Black, female child, bell hooks (1996) has shown me the injustice of not seeing herself/myself in the world; not having dolls with her/my skin colour; not having Black/Indigenous role models in places of power; and not being able to find Black/Indigenous leading characters in the books she/we read.

While these have not been my experiences, through the stories I can empathize and be moved to action. I make a conscious effort, as a Métis woman, to represent this part of my heritage in positive/overt ways in a variety of contexts (e.g. coaching baseball, speaking in schools, and teaching at the university: on-campus and on-line), such that other Indigenous people may see themselves represented in the world around them.

Integrating storywork and métissage research practices, I have woven together stories, ideas, and teachings to create storied métissage vignettes that honour and bring the participants’ voices forward in the work. Through the examples set out by the previously mentioned scholars, including Thomas King, bell hooks, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson, Julie Cruikshank, and Fyre

Jean Graveline, it is apparent that messages and teachings told through stories take on a whole new life. Research told through story goes beyond sharing data on a page. The findings are conscientiously woven to create and share experiences that evoke emotions. What is learned from flood survivors cannot be summed up in a distillation of themes and commonalities; the richness emerges from sharing of outliers and small details—the unique tellings that might not be otherwise known.

Chapter 2: Methodology and Literature

Native writers often tell a different story, tell it from a different perspective, from a different worldview. They challenge the reigning literary conventions and enshrined styles of writing both in principle and in practice. (Blaeser, 1999, p. 60)

Bricoleur’s Notes

In this “Methodology and Literature” chapter, I look ahead by “Beginning at the End” to consider my intentions for this study and how I hope to share the stories back with the participants and other audiences through métissage. Next, I introduce “Bricolage and the Work of the Bricoleur” as a guiding orientation to my research. As a bricoleur, I need to be well grounded by the methodologies that influence and inform my decisions in the work as it unfolds; as such, I have included a section on “Methodological Literature,” which is grouped into:

“Research as Dialogue,” “Situating within the Field of Critical Storytellers,” and “Story and

Storywork.” Then, I offer a brief section on “Methodological Approaches” to demonstrate the complementary fit of critical and Indigenous educational research intentions. By laying out these inspirations at the outset, I hope to show that my choices fit logically with my theoretical leanings. Bricolage is not a discovery approach to research, but rather an informed and situated way of being in relation to the ebbs and flows of the research process.

From a big picture view, I describe my research methodologies; share my research influences; provide reasoning for choosing the storywork methodology; explore examples of research and scholarly works that have created space for alternative forms of research processes and products; explore the affordances and drawbacks of inquiring in these ways; and argue the ethical and emancipatory merits of embarking on a storied and storying method of research.

After describing my theoretical landmarks, I share a brief summary of “The Through

Line,” before setting out on a topographical exploration of the research landscape through the

“Literature Review.” The literature survey includes: “Aftermaths of Disaster,” “Disaster

Politics,” “Youth and Natural Disasters,” “Voices of Youth in the Media: Power and Portrayal,”

“Disaster Research: From Scientific Findings to Stories of Experience,” “The Power of Water,” and “Ecological Engagement After Natural Disasters.” Then, I address an omission in “Wait!

Where is ‘Well-Being’ in this Literature Review?” followed by a survey of the literature associated with “Well-Being in Education” and end by “Revisiting the Research Plan.”

As the research landscape changed over the course of the study, the survey was a working document that was revisited and revised as new and related research became available.

Beginning at the End

It might seem strange to consider the interpretations, discussion, and implications of the research, prior to writing the study, conducting interviews, or analyzing the data. But like an artist or craftsperson, I believe you need a vision of what the final product could be to create a space of possibilities in the research design. I cannot paint the background without an idea of the foreground. I cannot cut the shapes and numbers of the quilt squares without first seeing the pattern of the finished quilt.

In this way, I began with my own story and prepared myself to accept and lift up the stories of the participants. I wanted to tell ethnographic stories of the flood experience that could reach a broader audience than the academic world. If done well, the works might become educational tools that offer an insider perspective into the disaster experience and spark critical discussion of post-disaster life. For these reasons, my research took an alternative form (Eisner,

1997). My dissertation shares back the stories told by youth within a community recovering from a flood. As I listened deeply during the ethnographic interviews with the participants, elements of their stories formed and re-formed in my mind. Through storied métissage (see Chapter 3), the

37 stories speak to each other in powerful ways. The elements and details come together as a new whole—an expression of research formation.

In many examples of métissage (Blood et al., 2012; Chambers, Hasebe-Ludt, & Donald,

2002; Chambers, Hasebe-Ludt, Donald, Hurren, Leggo, & Oberg, 2008; Hasebe-Ludt,

Chambers, & Leggo, 2009), distinct voices braid together autobiographical accounts such that the threads of each person’s life experiences may be traceably discerned, but powerfully connected at points of affinity. As Donald (2009) describes:

The act of weaving a textual braid of diverse texts provides a means for métissage researchers to express the interconnectedness of wide and diverse influences in an ethically relational manner. The assumption is that braiding in these ways will facilitate a textual encounter of diverse perspectives that creates a provocative interpretive engagement. The creation of texts and stories that emphasize human connectivity can complexify understandings of the significance of living together that traverse perceived frontiers of difference. (p. 8)

In my research, I have used the finer threads from the research participants’ stories to form an intricate tapestry, where the product of the storied métissage is recognizable as a new whole— voices in harmony and contrast, yet never alone.

Bricolage and the Work of the Bricoleur

To convey my understanding of bricolage and my role as bricoleur, I draw on the works and words of several preeminent scholars; their descriptions are as follows:

The interpretive bricoleur produces a bricolage, that is, a pieced together set of representations that are fitted to the specifics of the complex situation. (Denzin & Lincoln, 2018, p. 11)

No research act or interpretive task begins on virgin territory. Countless acts of meaning making have already shaped the terrain that researchers explore. In this context,

bricoleurs need as much help as they can get to negotiate their way through such overwhelming complexity. (Kincheloe, 2005b, p. 332)

The point of the interaction is not standardized agreement as to some reductionistic notion of “the proper interdisciplinary research method” but awareness of the diverse tools in the researcher’s toolbox. The form such deep interdisciplinarity may take is shaped by the object of inquiry in question. Thus, in the bricolage, the context in which research takes place always affects the nature of the deep interdisciplinarity employed. (Kincheloe, 2001, p. 685)

Bricolage does not simply tolerate difference but cultivates it as a spark to researcher creativity. (Kincheloe, 2001, p. 687)

To be prepared, bricoleurs must realize that knowledge is always in process, developing, culturally specific, and power-inscribed. They are attuned to dynamic relationships connecting individuals, their contexts, and their activities instead of focusing on these separate entities in isolation from one another. (Kincheloe, 2001, p. 689)

The bricoleur, the researcher who employs bricolage, must be able to orchestrate a plethora of diverse tasks including interviewing and observing, to historiographical analysis, to self-monitoring and intrapersonal understanding. (Steinberg, 2006, pp. 119- 120)

Over the past twenty years, bricolage has slowly become a more widely recognized and accepted approach to research. Norman Denzin and Yvonna Lincoln (2000) draw on Claude

Lévi-Strauss’s (1966) articulation of bricolage and the work of the bricoleur from his book, The

Savage Mind, to signal a movement away from single disciplinarity towards multidisciplinary research—where the bricoleur makes use of what is available to them to create something new.

Much of the legitimacy that bricolage has gained in the eyes of its critics has come from the tireless and unrelenting work of Joe Kincheloe. Kincheloe (2001, 2005b) elevated the dialogue around bricolage from one of piecemeal haphazardry to that of an ontological and epistemological response to the complexities of research and our world. Yvonna Lincoln (2001),

Peter McLaren (2001), and Bill Pinar (2001) provided critical feedback on Kincheloe’s (2001) earliest conceptualization of bricolage; to which, Kincheloe (2005b; also see Kincheloe,

McLaren, & Steinberg, 2011) responded by: addressing each scholar’s areas of concern, reinforcing the theoretical underpinnings of bricolage, and advocating for the emancipatory potential of bricoleur-engaged research.

Bricolage is a dynamic and critical response to complexity, where the bricoleur does not passively employ the accepted/expected tools associated with predetermined and generalizable methodologies, but rather constructs research methods from the means at hand (Denzin &

Lincoln, 2000, 2018; Kincheloe, 2001, 2005b; Kincheloe, McLaren, & Steinberg, 2011; Rogers,

2012; Steinberg, 2006; Steinberg, Berry, & Kincheloe, 2020).

The choice to take up bricolage is not one to be taken lightly. Bricolage is a research orientation that requires commitment and substantial grounding (Kincheloe, 2001, 2005b;

Steinberg, Berry, & Kincheloe, 2020). For bricoleurs, the multidisciplinary approach requires a

“research self-consciousness and awareness of the numerous contexts in which any researcher is operating” (Kincheloe, McLaren, & Steinberg, 2011); the researcher has to have knowledge of their positioning, situatedness, and ways of seeing the world. As Kincheloe describes: “Our transcendence of the old regime’s reductionism and our understanding of the complexity of the research task demand the lifetime effort. It is this lifetime commitment to study, clarify, sophisticate, and add to the bricolage that this article advocates (2001, p. 681).”

As an insider to the flood experience, I find Kincheloe’s description of the synergistic relationship between ethnography and social theoretical discourses to be promising, as follows:

An ethnographer who is conversant with social theory and its recent history is better equipped to transcend certain forms of formulaic ethnography that are reduced by the so- called “observational constraint” on the methodology… the ethnographer gains the ability

to see beyond the literalness of the observed. In this maneuver, the ethnographer-as- bricoleur moves to a deeper level of data analysis as he or she sees “what’s not there” in physical presence, what is not discernible by the ethnographic eye. (2001, p. 686)

I am fortunate/unfortunate to know the context of the flood firsthand, and have a pre-existing relationship to the town. I will know the references to neighbourhoods, routes, areas, buildings, and businesses, without relying on the participants to explain the contexts of their stories.

To become a bricoleur in this work, I need to have: a wide range of background knowledge about disaster-related research and youth-related research; an in-depth knowledge of the methodologies that inform my praxis; a broad understanding of the methods at my disposal; confidence and trust in myself to be responsive to the research participants and their stories; and a commitment to rigour that will hold the threads of this research project together. Significantly:

Process-sensitive scholars watch the world flow by like a river, where the exact contents of the water are never the same. Because all observers view an object of inquiry from their own vantage points in the web of reality, no portrait of a social phenomenon is ever exactly the same as another. Because all physical, social, cultural, psychological, and educational dynamics are connected in a larger fabric, researchers will produce different descriptions of an object of inquiry depending on what part of the fabric they have focused—what part of the river they have seen. (Kincheloe, 2005b, p. 333)

Considering this description, I understand that other researchers may take something different from the participants’ stories than I will, and that is okay. In fact, Indigenous Elders and storytellers will often acknowledge that people may hear something different from the stories, depending on readiness and receptivity—each person will take what they need. In this way, I will take what I need or what I am ready to learn from the ethnographic interviews, and will represent the stories in a way that others can engage with and learn from them too.

Methodological Literature

I am indebted to the work of scholars who have pointed me on the path of storytelling as research. I have many heroes within the field of educational research; in the next three sections:

“Research as Dialogue,” “Situating within the Field of Critical Storytellers,” and “Story and

Storywork,” I weave together my methodological literature review as I prepared for research.

I am moved by the following scholars to communicate my research and knowledge creation through a métissage of narration, story, and poetry. They push the boundaries of qualitative research where the presentation of their work takes the reader on a learning journey.

Their writing is playful, artistic, deeply personal, and impactful. They present research in ways that blur the lines of interpretations and teachings with imagination and experience. In contrast with research presented with a lofty voice of authority, story invites readers into a space of experiential learning, to draw their own conclusions, and to interpret the information shared as it relates to their own lives. Research shared as story becomes dialogic—evoking critical thinking that leads to learning (Freire, 1970/1993). In the sections that follow, I will share insights and excerpts from the writing of these scholars—as their work grounds my thinking and inspires my writing within the fields of critical and Indigenous storytellers.

Research as Dialogue

To surmount the situation of oppression, people must first critically recognize its causes, so that through transforming action they can create a new situation, one which makes possible the pursuit of fuller humanity. (Freire, 1970/1993, p. 29)

Dialogue…requires an intense faith in humankind, faith in their power to make and re- make, to create and re-create, faith in their vocation to be more fully human (which is not the privilege of an elite, but the birthright of all). (Freire, 1970/1993, p. 71)

Consistent with the liberating purpose of dialogical education, the object of the investigation is not persons (as if they were anatomical fragments), but rather the thought

language [or stories] with which men and women refer to reality, the levels at which they perceive that reality, and their view of the world, in which their generative themes are found. (Freire, 1970/1993, p. 78) Paulo Freire. The writings of Paulo Freire have greatly influenced the work of educators and researchers in extensive and almost imperceptible ways. His (1970/1993) publication

Pedagogy of the Oppressed, introduced many concepts, now germane with critical pedagogy.

Freire illuminated how power relationships insidiously perpetuate oppression and struggle when left un-named and un-opposed. He introduced the notion of praxis as action and reflection; and termed conscientização to capture the idea of a heightened or heightening critical consciousness of unjust power relationships toward taking-action.

Additionally, Freire espoused the importance of dialogue: “founding itself upon love, humility, and faith, dialogue becomes a horizontal relationship of which mutual trust between the dialoguers is the logical consequence” (p. 72). A truly dialogic relationship holds the promise of emancipatory action, where freedom is a shared pursuit. I do not think that socially-situated nor culturally-situated research can be taken up with any meaningful depth or rigor without invoking concepts first put forward by Paulo Freire. His pedagogy has infiltrated the language and conceptualization of education, and research relationships; his influence is far-reaching and tacitly apparent in the many forms of emancipatory scholarship that I draw on in my work.

Situating within the Field of Critical Storytellers

Four Arrows. I was introduced to Four Arrows’s work at a time in my studies when I was seriously questioning my faith in academic institutions. Before embarking on graduate studies, I believed universities to be utopian havens for collaborative learning and higher knowledge exploration. In the first year of my graduate program, I quickly learned that the academic world was highly competitive in every respect. While I felt the slow crush of self-

43 imposed weight to conform to commonly practiced academic standards and structures, Four

Arrows’s (2008), The Authentic Dissertation: Alternative Ways of Knowing, Research and

Representation, offered hope that there could be other ways of representing research and being in the academy. As Four Arrows describes his project:

The Authentic Dissertation is a road map for students who want to make their dissertation more than a series of hoop-jumping machinations that cause them to lose the vitality and meaningfulness of their research…. The goal of this book is not to replace the historical values of academic research in the Western tradition, but to challenge some of these values and offer alternative ideas that stem from different, sometimes opposing values. (p. i)

While I was first drawn to his creative rebellion against academic power structures, I quickly recognized his writing to be both empowering and intimidating. Four Arrows writes with a deft hand—he wields in-depth knowledge of the normalized and oppressive systems of thought and poses arguments that turn the authoritarian agenda back on itself. It was only recently that I learned through personal communication (July 7, 2018) that Four Arrows used personal correspondence with the named, but uncited contributors to include their positions/commentary while avoiding formal academic referencing. His gentle laugh told of a silent victory in subverting the system, still enjoyed all these years later. I stand rightfully cautious, and wildly tempted, to follow Four Arrows’s example in finding ways to bend and reshape research practice. I also see that it was, and would be, a tremendous amount of work to explore this liminal route in scholarship. Instead, I heed his invitation to keep my dissertation full of life and respectful of the research participants’ contributions. I will know that I have done it right, if I can look back twenty years later and proudly remark that my methods brought about meaningful change for young adults who have experienced disaster, and given hope to others that, it can be done.

Thomas King. King (2003, 2012, 2014) uses storytelling—oral and written—to reach a broad audience with his, often humorous and always pointed, messages about our colonial history and our colonial present. He utilizes literary métissage in The Truth about Stories: A

Native Narrative (2003), and The Back of the Turtle (2014), moving between events and characters, across time and place. King picks up story threads with purpose and intention; each storyline feeds into and enhances the message of the next. One example of this critical prose is

King’s, “Godzilla vs. post-colonial” (1990), where he confronts and troubles the very notion of post-colonialism:

While post-colonialism purports to be a method by which we can begin to look at those literatures which are formed out of the struggle of the oppressed against the oppressor, the colonized and the colonizer, the term itself assumes that the starting point for that discussion is the advent of Europeans in North America. At the same time, the term organizes the literature progressively suggesting that there is both progress and improvement. No less distressing, it also assumes that the struggle between guardian and ward is the catalyst for the contemporary Native literature, providing those of us who write with method and topic. And, worst of all, the idea of post-colonial writing effectively cuts us off from our traditions, traditions that were in place before colonialism ever became a question, traditions which have come down to us through our cultures in spite of colonization and it supposes that contemporary Native writing is largely a construct of oppression. Ironically, while the term itself—post-colonial—strives to escape to find new centres, it remains, in the end, a hostage to nationalism. As a contemporary Native writer, I am quite unwilling to make these assumptions, and I am quite unwilling to use these terms. (pp. 11-12)

While King’s scholarly articles are equally as sharp and well-referenced as his narrative work, he has gained greater notoriety for his fictional stories—they have a greater reach of readership.

Regardless of the form his writing takes, King is a gifted storyteller and uses his talents to speak truths into the world. I follow King’s lead in bringing the stories forward, such that others may

45 learn from them regardless of my storytelling abilities. His work also exemplifies the marriage of critical and Indigenous scholarship. King names oppressive power structures and language within texts. He is pointed and yet surprisingly gentle in how he “teaches” the reader about otherwise challenging and potentially volatile subjects. As I share the participants’ stories, I try to emulate King’s honesty and humility; the retellings are, at times, critical, yet they offer some direction for what can be learned from or improved on in the support of youth.

bell hooks. hooks (1994, 2004, 2010) shares her insights into the power structures at work in education and the academy. For me, as a reader of her work, she has brought critical pedagogy to life through her candid accounts and storytelling. hooks (2010) writes:

Telling stories is one of the ways that we can begin the process of building community, whether inside or outside the classroom. We can share both true accounts and fictional stories in a class that help us understand one another. For years, I was hesitant to share personal stories. I had been trained to believe that anyone who relied on a personal story as evidence upholding or affirming an idea could never really be a scholar and/or an intellectual, according to dominator thinking via schools of higher learning. Telling a personal story to document or frame an argument was a sign that one was not dealing in hard facts, that one was not scientific enough. I am grateful to have lived long enough to learn how much information we have been given and told was hard science or data was really a story, the interpretation of data and facts. (p. 49) hooks’s writing is accessible to a wide range of readers—she has made intentional choices about vocabulary, sentence structure, content, and referencing. As the above excerpt suggests, hooks has faced criticism for her decisions to write and share stories in these ways. In Teaching to

Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom (1994), she explains, “that my decisions about writing style, about not using conventional academic formats, are political decisions motivated by my desire to be inclusive, to reach as many readers as possible in as many different locations” (p. 71). While hooks’s critics have judged her work to be “‘not scholarly’ or ‘not

46 theoretical’” (p. 71), she has succeeded in transcending academic boundaries, noting that her books have even been taken up by prisoners in incarceration.

Despite my deep admiration for hooks and her conscious, political choice to write approachable texts, I recently co-edited a book that featured Indigenous research from a variety of fields, where all chapters used conventional academic formats, inclusive of substantial referencing. After talking up my book for weeks at work, my dad picked up his newly printed copies—one for himself, plus a few extras for colleagues, family, and friends. Much to his disappointment, my dad noted that the texts were thick with referencing and academic jargon.

While he could read and understand the work; it was obvious that he was disheartened by the book. He asked repeatedly, why people could not just use simpler language and write in more straightforward ways. Why couldn’t the book be accessed and enjoyed by a broader audience?

Looking back, I can see the answer quite clearly. The contributors, mainly graduate students, were immersed in academic research and writing; they had the pressures of meeting the high expectations of academic rigor—the work had to be seen as “scholarly” and “theoretical” enough. While I cannot go back and change my dad’s reaction to my first academic publication, I can try to give him a different experience with my dissertation by learning from the critical stance of bell hooks.

hooks’s (1994, 2004, 2010) publications on teaching towards empowerment and social change have spoken to me as an educator and graduate student. However, I find her (1996) memoir, Bone Black: Memories of Girlhood, to be most powerful and moving. Her memoir reads in the way of a métissage of her memories, pieced together with the skill of a literary quilter, she describes:

Laying out the groundwork of my early life like a crazy quilt, Bone Black brings together fragments to make a whole. Bits and pieces connect in a random and playfully irrational

way…. We look back as if we are standing at a distance. Examining life retrospectively we are there and not there, watching and watched. Evoking the mood and sensibility of moments, this is an autobiography of perceptions and ideas. The events described are always less significant than the impression they leave behind on the mind and heart. (xiv- xv)

As the participants shared their stories, I remembered these words from hooks about the events being less significant than the impressions they leave behind. This prompted me to dig deeper, asking: What was it about the stories that they are choosing to share that have made them significant in the telling? How have the events marked their minds and hearts?

Leanne Betasamosake Simpson. Much like Thomas King and bell hooks, Leanne

Betasamosake Simpson is a storyteller. And like King and hooks, Simpson has pursued doctoral studies and remained disenchanted with the academic life—steeped in colonial traditions and

Western knowledge systems—within institutional walls. Simpson (2008, 2011, 2013, 2017a,

2017b) puts her Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg community first; she honours her Elders and their traditional teachings in her essays, songs, poetry, and stories. She, like many of my heroes, is a critical, Indigenous scholar. Simpson names the oppressive forces, systems, and histories, and advocates for Indigenous rights to land, cultural expression, language, and thought. Like King and hooks, Simpson speaks hard truths. With regard to the 2013 Alberta Floods, Simson (2017b) wrote:

Situation Update #1 Banff is flooding in the middle of summer because it will not stop raining because of global warming and probably this is the new reality. There’s a mudslide that has closed the Trans-Canada Highway. It is falling into the Delusional River. Revenge Creek is eating homes. The rescue helicopter is constantly flying overhead, taking photos near as I can tell. All the trails and roads are closed…. Situation Update #3

I’m reading Settler Colonial’s twitter feed because he doesn’t miss anything, and so of course he’s tweeting exactly what racist Canadians tweet when one of our rez’s gets flooded—relocate Calgary. The conditions during this flood are still 90 percent better than conditions on many reserves. Honestly, I enjoy white people’s mega-tar-sands-industry homes getting sucked into the river. I do. It just seems fair. (p.107-108)

Perspective is everything. Despite losing nearly every possession and treasured thing I owned in the 2013 flood, I can still appreciate Simpson’s pointed remarks about the event and her sharp humour, as she makes light of the idio/syncra(s)/cies of people. Similar to the work of King and hooks, I draw on Simpson’s critical and honest tellings as models for how I bring the participants’ stories forward in impactful and memorable ways.

Peter Cole. I first met Peter Cole at the University of Victoria in fall 2002; he was my instructor for two Indigenous Education classes—elective courses, that would change the course of my life. Through required readings and discussions, Cole introduced me to the stories and experiences of Canada’s residential school system. Through conversation, he helped me to think differently about my Indigenous heritage, my family, and my positioning, as a student and educator. In his writing, Cole (2002) opened the floodgates to the realm of possibilities in critical scholarship and emancipatory writing. His words, like poetry, as follows:

the practice of academically certified punctuation distances me from my sense of space time and natural speech patterns including translated ones separating me from my connection with the earth and its natural sounds and rhythms the a priori presumption being that the written word is of paramount worth the assumption being that the mechanisms of codification and translation of our rhythms periods commas semicolons have anything (whatsoever) to do with our paralinguistic choreographies to thus delegate the orality of my nation and its transcription to a para place removed

from equal symbolic even orthographic consideration is to put us in our place illiterates illegitimates iterati (p. 449)

The above excerpt from Cole’s doctoral thesis shows his command of language. At first glance,

Cole’s writing appears primitive—no capitals or punctuation. Upon closer reading, the aesthetic beauty of the phrasing, spacing, and playful nuances, emerges. The selection demonstrates his admonishment of colonizing writing structures that have been normalized within the academy.

Like hooks, Cole breaks the established rules for referencing sources; they show that there can be more than one way of writing academic literature—it can look and be: different/decolonizing/liberating/legitimate.

Cole took pride in forcing extended deliberations over the merits of his dissertation. To me, this meant that alternative forms of dissertations—done well—could push boundaries, which is especially significant within boundary-centric systems, such as universities. For his dexterity as a writer and bravery as a scholar, Cole became my first academic hero. His words of wisdom and his profound works continue to inspire me to this day—I am grateful. Cole’s influence can be seen throughout my writing, especially when I stack/combine/amass terms that fit together and contribute to a thought greater than one word alone, and when I com/part/mentalize words, such that the pieces evoke different images and meanings when read in different ways.

Julie Cruikshank. Cruikshank’s (1990) work with three Yukon Elders, provides a model for honouring the voices of research partners, through shared authorship and intact narration of stories. While in community, Cruikshank developed relationships built on respect and trust. She pushed back against the Western ethics that called for anonymity of participants and sole ownership of ideas by the doctoral researcher. A named ally, Cruikshank has maintained strong relationships with the families of her research participants and their community. In her later research, Cruikshank (1998) builds on her learning from the Elders and community members to

50 bring forward the importance of oral stories. She problematizes the written record of certain historical events and provides context for alternative histories, as passed down through the oral tradition. She cautions:

Academics too often frame the experiences of others with reference to scholarly norms. Yet unless we put ourselves in interactive situations where we are exposed and vulnerable, where these norms are interrupted and challenged, we can never recognize the limitations of our own descriptions. It is these dialogues that are most productive, because they prevent us from becoming overconfident about our own interpretations. (1998, p. 165)

Cruikshank’s insight into the importance of dialogues was a timely reminder for me when I was making plans to meet with and hear stories from the young adult flood survivors. She also pointed to the need for researchers to put themselves in vulnerable positions and to proceed with humility. In my work, I have been both vulnerable and conscious of my bounds and limitations.

Story and Storywork

In co-creating knowledge, story is not only a means for hearing another’s narrative, it also invites reflexivity into research. (Kovach, 2009, p. 100)

If research is about learning, so as to enhance the well-being of the earth’s inhabitants, then story is research. It provides insight from observations, experience, interactions, and institutions that assist in developing theory about a phenomenon. (Kovach, 2009, p. 102)

Margaret Kovach. In her chapter on “Story as Indigenous Methodology,” Kovach

(2009) distinguishes between the two types of stories that exist within Indigenous epistemologies—these are mythical and teaching stories, and personal narratives that tell of events and experiences (p. 95). She goes on to stress that, “story, as a method, is used differently culture to culture, and so its application falters without full appreciation of the underlying epistemological assumptions that motivate its use” (pp. 96-97). With this reasoning, it makes

51 sense that there would be a disconnect when researchers/outsiders try to understand culturally specific stories without a fulsome understanding of their epistemological underpinnings—many meanings would be lost. Despite noting this drawback, Kovach persists in defining, “story as a method in light of the relational quality of story, representation in narrative, data-gathering choices amiable to story, and the challenges of writing from an Indigenous perspective” (p. 98).

She makes the decisive claim that, “story works as a decolonizing action that gives voice to the misinterpreted and marginalized” (p. 98). It is my good fortune that Kovach pursued ways to use story in her research process. In conversation with Jeannine Carriere and upon her own reflections on reluctance to using story in her research, Kovach comes to a place of acceptance; realizing that:

Stories are who we are. They are both method and meaning. Stories spring forth from a holistic epistemology and are the relational glue in a socially interdependent knowledge system. In listening to the research stories of others, it is evident that research stories reveal the deep purpose of our inquiries. (p. 108)

Likewise, I am cautious to employ an Indigenous methodology with a non-Indigenous participant group, as not to be seen as an act of appropriation, mis-use, or exploitation. However,

I see that it is for the very reasons that I value the methodology—for being relational, holistic, experiential, emancipatory, and deeply knowing—I would not have wanted to use another methodology in this important work.

Jo-ann Archibald. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to ask Jo-ann Archibald (personal communication, September 27, 2016) if she felt it would be appropriate to apply her Indigenous storywork principles in another research context, and she agreed that it would likely be a good fit for the research I had planned. I was drawn to her (2008a) book, Indigenous Storywork:

Educating the Heart, Mind, Body, and Spirit, early on in my research journey. Archibald’s

52 attention to relationships first, holistic teachings, and commitment to conducting research in a good way, all stood out as important examples of how to live well in my own research. She also emphasized the importance of listening, stressing:

Patience and trust are essential for preparing to listen to stories. Listening involves more than just using the auditory sense. We must visualize the characters and their actions. We must let our emotions surface. As the Elders say, it is important to listen with, “three ears: two on the sides of your head and the one that is in your heart.” (p. 8)

I read several key teachings from this passage; one is the need to be present during the research process, listening deeply to the research participants. Second, I should visualize their stories and let them impact me emotionally. The moments that move me are additional sites of inquiry— another layer in the relational work. I need to hold my heart open to the people and the process— heart work, as I’ve heard it called.

Archibald goes on to describe her experiences of interviewing/story gathering, by way of the Elder telling stories. She affirms the importance of following protocols, listening, and holding up the cultural values of respect, reciprocity, reverence and responsibility.

It is in revisiting these teachings that I am reminded why it is important for me to quote, rather than paraphrase sources in my own work. I want to acknowledge where my learning and knowledge comes from; I want to recognize and honour the source. I continue to learn so much from the scholars that I am referring to in my work; and I do not want to claim their teachings as my own. I have not earned that right; not yet. For now, I ask forgiveness and indulgence if my citations are clumsy. They feel right to me and my way of knowing, being, and doing this work.

Fyre Jean Graveline. Similarly, in Fyre Jean Graveline’s (2000) “Circle as

Methodology: Enacting an Aboriginal Paradigm,” she reflects on her learnings from researching and writing her (1998) trailblazing book Circle works: Transforming eurocentric [sic]

53 consciousness. She uses a poetic and pointed style, much like many of my favourite critical authors. In her prose she names:

Eurocentric cultural norms are Revealed through what is named “Editing”.

Rule One: ANONYMITY OR OBJECTIVITY Strip all speakers of their “personal” identities No given name family name community tribal affiliation geographic roots. Eliminate all ‘personal’ narrative. No identification of the speaker leads to Objectification de-contextualizes Speakers de-collectivizes Individuals. Naming is highly personal and Political When renaming is required To reconstruct meaningful exchange Soliciting self-selected psuodonyms [sic] can Empower participants. Naming Oneself: Unicorn Free Redbird Misel Sarah Hattie Done for cultural Familial

historical reasons re-integrates self-in-relation. (p. 366)

While I recognize that I could have paraphrased and saved some space, I will go on to quote rule number 3 as it pertains to me and my work in this proposal, as follows:

Rule Three: BREVITY I am told: “This quote is too long has too much text to it. Break it up. Comment on the content. Theorize: What do You think They mean?” Create Bridges it is called. I am stunned. In Circle Talk when a person has the Stone She or he talks as long as they want. Making their Own connections Between Self and others in the Circle Self and topic Self and Communities. My task is to Shrink stories. Cut huge chunks of now named “extraneous” material. As I struggle to Insert my own comments Intruding into Other’s stories I become self-consciously Aware. Editing: a polite code word for Actions viewed Disrespectful Unacceptable in Traditional Circles. (2000, pp. 367-8)

For the same sentiments shared and expressed by Graveline, I refrain from cutting people off—in quotes, dialogues, stories, or other—as a sign of respect, and as an act of resistance to the re-

55 colonizing project that continues today within spaces of higher learning. Writing, as shown by the scholars featured here, is an art. Crafting with story is art/ful. The authors consider the elements of composition, including:

[free/ing] form,

line, movement(s), tensions, allusions, light and (fore)shadow/ing

background (knowledge), negative space, tone and texture, layering, blending, building, blocking

caesura colour/ful expression-ism,

impression-ism, symbol-ism, real-ism, surreal-ism, anarch-ism,

and value(s).

Throughout this work, I have tried to match the form of the research to the form of the representation; thus, knowledge gained through story, becomes knowledge shared through story.

I resist the advice to shrink the stories and “Cut huge chunks of now named ‘extraneous’ material” (Graveline, 2000, p. 368). I share the stories as I have heard them. My listening is evident. My reflections, interjections, and analysis are reserved for a different space, rather than

“Intruding into Other’s stories” (Graveline, 2000, p. 368).

The Through Line

Each of the scholars discussed in the “Methodological Literature” section has influenced my thinking and my writing in tangible and tacit ways. I am hyper-aware of the expected norms of academic writing, especially in this, my dissertation—the most formal of texts. I draw inspiration from hooks and King to write in accessible language, where the emphasis is on the ideas, stories, and connections. Archibald, Cruickshank, hooks, King, Kovach, and Simpson

56 inspire me to privilege narratives, mine and the participants.

All of these critical and Indigenous scholars humanize the issues they discuss. They push boundaries and have broken new ground, expanding what is accepted as research and scholarship. Their works are political and emancipatory. Following their examples, I look for places to push back against convention. Rather than comparing and contrasting their practices and parsing off the pieces I have drawn from, I have shared a broad overview—with illustrative examples and quotes—to allow their influence to foreground my work from a holistic perspective.

While I have spent several pages sharing personal stories, offering illustrative quotes, highlighting my academic heroes, and making a case for alternative research processes, I have yet to formally articulate the specific theoretical underpinnings of my research. Partly, it is because I struggle to think in these terms; and partly, it is because I hesitate to fit my vision for the research into such narrow, Western, institutional frames. That said, I will try.

Reading about Indigenous and decolonizing methodologies, I understand that relationships and relationality are at the heart of research (Archibald, 2008a, 2008b; Donald,

2009, 2011, 2012; Ermine 1995; Kovach, 2009; Smith, 2012; Wilson, 2008). In order to conduct research ethically, relationships need to be established and maintained. I take this as relationships with the research participants—regardless of the frequency of our interactions—and to the participants’ stories. While I would have liked to use Shawn Wilson’s (2008) research paradigm, because of its tidy presentation—a circle with the words: axiology, ontology, epistemology, and methodology, situated around the center, separated by two directional arrows (p. 70)—I would first have to make sense of how the model fits with my sensibilities and understandings. As

Wilson explains:

As I write and contemplate, I can see how my research ceremony has led to a raised awareness of what Indigenous research is. Relationality seems to sum up the whole Indigenous research paradigm to me. Just as the components of the paradigm are related, the components themselves all have to do with relationships. The ontology and epistemology are based upon a process of relationships that form a mutual reality. The axiology and methodology are based upon maintaining accountability to these relationships. There that sums up the whole book [Research Is Ceremony: Indigenous Research Methods] in one paragraph! (pp. 70-71)

His humour is not lost on me as I try to articulate my thinking in much the same way.

Operating under critical and Indigenous paradigms, I approach my research conscious of the ever-present power relations and oppressive forces that exist within every faction of Western, colonial societies. My role in research is to observe, name, and take-action against unjust influences and repressive structures as identified by and with the research participants. As such, the methodology for this critical storywork project is dialogic (Cruikshank, 1998; Freire,

1970/1993; Guba & Lincoln, 2005, as cited in Lincoln, Lynham, & Guba, 2018, p. 117).

Coming back to Wilson’s (2008) graphic, I see the relationship between: theory and practice; pedagogy and praxis; and methodology and method; to be a mutually informing circle/spiral where ethnographic interviews create space for stories that bare the personal and collective experiences of the flood. Specific to this research project, the youths’ experiences become the stories that have educational baring for others. As Kovach (2009) explains, there is an, “inseparable relationship between story and knowing, and the interrelationship between narrative and research within Indigenous frameworks. In considering story as both method and meaning, it is presented as a culturally nuanced way of knowing” (p. 94). I contend that this relationship between story and knowing has applications and implications beyond Indigenous frameworks, so long as Archibald’s seven research principles are attended to throughout the

58 process. I bring these beliefs and values to the ongoing development of a conceptual framework that underpins my understanding of the research—where story becomes knowledge formation.

Literature Review

Disaster is never terribly far away. Knowing how people behave in disasters is fundamental for knowing how to prepare for them. And what can be learned about resilience, social and psychological response, and possibility from sudden disasters is relevant as well for the slower disasters of poverty, economic upheaval, and incremental environmental degradation as well as the abiding questions about social possibilities. (Solnit, 2009, p. 22)

Aftermaths of Disaster

In her book A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities that Arise in

Disaster, Rebecca Solnit (2009) describes phenomenon that occur in the aftermaths of disasters, including: the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake, the 1917 Halifax Explosion, the 1985 Mexico

City Earthquake, the 2001 September 11 attacks (also known as 9/11), and the 2005 Hurricane

Katrina. She tells of the resiliency of people as they create camps and communities to serve the most basic of human needs. These places become larger than the losses, remembered as joy- filled sanctuaries given playful names on make-shift signs. People finding love, amidst the devastation. Other accounts are less rosy, as Solnit describes the effects of martial law and senseless killings that take place in areas where people—seen as unruly and mob-like—seek ways to meet their basic needs. Corruption and opportunism are also exposed as common occurrences in the wake of disasters. Solnit writes how the “unfulfilled promises of evacuation and aid day after day turned Katrina into a social crisis” (p. 239), also noting that:

Many of the people left behind in New Orleans were elderly, ill, or otherwise frail, mothers and young children or extended families who couldn’t bring themselves to split up for an evacuation or leave some members behind. Though much blame was heaped

upon those who did not evacuate, many lacked the resources to do so: a car, or gas money, or a place to go. (p. 239)

Solnit’s work points to many of the issues underlying these crises, but does not name the perpetrators. Specifically, the government failed the people through inaction; worse yet, the government took a ‘blame the victims’ mentality which caused greater hardship for the survivors as many citizens felt justified in ignoring those in need. She touches on the issue of racism, without naming ‘racism’ as she recounts:

Many trapped in the city believed they had been left to die, some believed that it was because they were black [sic]. There was some truth to those beliefs. Even television news commentators noted that an affluent white community would not have been left to suffer for so many days while the federal government dithered. (p. 239)

While the political climate and race relations of Canada may appear less hostile, the prioritization of aid to support the predominately wealthy, predominately white victims of the

2013 Alberta floods is apparent in the disproportionate government spending to buyout the luxury homes in Calgary’s elite neighbourhoods (CBC, 2014). In this example, the aid was dispensed swiftly and decisively for a few, while the majority of flood survivors were tasked with providing itemized lists of their losses not covered by insurance and waiting for decisions of monetary allotments from the Disaster Relief Program (DRP). Government buyouts of homes were not an option for the vast majority, with the exception of the Wallaceville neighbourhood in

High River. The request for government buyouts was initiated by the town and the overall process took years to complete. The inequity is apparent; but like most issues of power, the people with the power benefit and those without power are helpless to change the situation— even in our fair and just country.

Disaster Politics

In his online article, “The Politics of Disposability,” Henry Giroux (2006) revisits the lessons learned from Hurricane Katrina’s devastation in New Orleans, from one year after the event. He compares the racism exposed in the brutal killing of 14-year-old Emmett Till in 1955 with the media images of waterlogged dead bodies taken in the aftermath of the 2005 hurricane and flood disaster. Giroux described the victims of the latter as “the bodies of the poor, black

[sic], brown [sic], elderly, and sick” (para. 20, line 2), left lying in the streets or found deceased in care facilities, such as nursing homes and hospitals. Although many people like to believe that society has become less racist since the 1950s, Giroux counters with examples of the ineffectual government response and failed humanitarian efforts to save or show dignity for the most vulnerable populations in New Orleans—poor people of colour, especially the elderly. While

Giroux’s perspective is bleak, it is honest and telling of the societal view towards marginalized and demonized groups as disposable people. Much of his article focuses on events in the U. S. but he cautions that many Canadian cities are also at risk, and “must protect those principles of the social contract that offer collective solutions to foster and maintain both ecological sustainability and human survival” (para. 4, line 2).

Giroux’s work shows the power that government and media have to tell stories about people—to paint groups in a certain light—to develop narratives that serve their goals and purposes, whether these plans are to cut funding for social programs or to perpetuate fear and hatred of various races and cultural groups. In my work, I aimed to create a (counter or supplemental) narrative of the flood—a story told by the youth—one that was less sought by media who tended to interview home owners, insurance, company representatives, business owners, long-time residents, first responders, parents of small children who were evacuated to

61 different towns, government officials, and members of volunteer organizations. The stories that became most prominent were of financial losses and payments, including government buyouts for the most wealthy; heroic rescues; acts of altruism and volunteerism; conspiracy theories of why it took so long for residents to be let back into the community; and mud-covered photo ops from government officials and television personalities. While youth may not have been marginalized or demonized, their stories were under-represented in the media and in the aftermath; how can other youth learn from or relate to these experiences if the stories of the young adult flood survivors are not told?

Youth and Natural Disasters

In the radio series, This American Life, “Tornado Prom” (Burton, 2001) was Act 1 of a broadcast that shared the youth’s experience of a disaster that struck their community on the night that they were celebrating prom. A tornado hit Hoisington, Kansas, while the seniors were dancing in their school gym. They took shelter in the school basement, as the tornado destroyed a large portion of the town. Afterward, the youth shared their first-person accounts of that night and the aftermath that followed.

At the time, they did not know what was going on outside other than a storm; but as they emerged from the school basement, their lives were changed forever. Some no longer had homes. One student helped his family emerge from the rubble, where his house once stood.

Another commented on the eerie darkness, where the town appeared to simply end or drop off.

There were stories of the humourous graffiti that appeared on many of the buildings afterward; this was something that also happened on buildings around High River, but without The Wizard of Oz references (a flood in Alberta, not a tornado in Kansas).

Interestingly, many students who shared their stories of the prom disaster described superstitions about feeling cursed, or that they might have caused or deserved to be hit by the tornado. Will the youth who tell their stories of the High River flood share similar beliefs about the event?

Voices of Youth in the Media: Power and Portrayal

In her co-edited journal issue, Power of Youth: Youth and Community-led Activism in

Canada, Brigette DePape (2012) tells of the frustration youth feel when confronting the current state of environmental crisis:

Many of us young people are fed up with the system and the approach of current governments. We know that in spite of what we are told, wealth doesn’t trickle down; it’s only environmental destruction that trickles down to us….we need power from the bottom up to create a society for real democracy and justice….We are here to tell power- holders to stop and listen. We are speaking out and acting together to make change now. (p. 15)

The people in power profit off of environmental destruction and degradation, leaving a mess for the youth to clean up. The journal issue showcases youth and community groups who are making an effort to take power back from governments and corporations through activism and advocacy.

DePape argues that people do not need charity, but they need political change.

Similarly, David Suzuki (2015) suggests that the voices of youth have the power to influence conversations on environmental issues. He states:

More than half the world’s population is under 30, a demographic now at the forefront of international decision-making and some of Canada’s most powerful environmental changes. Across the nation, youth are thinking critically about how we can become better stewards of our vast landscapes and spectacular wildlife and protect the air, water, soil and diversity of nature that keep us healthy and alive. They’re standing up for strong

environmental protection and a saner approach to resource management in their own communities. (para. 2)

While voices of youth may be seen as influential in the media, I fear that their power stops short of affecting real change to policies and decisions made at the national and international levels.

Part of the issue might be that the people in power really do not want youth to lead

(Steinberg, 2018). Another possibility is that how youth are portrayed in the media depends on the story the media is selling (Kelly, 2006). In both cases, the narrative is more often spun as youth being a problem, rather than youth having a solution.

In my work with youth, I want to support their voices in being heard and being taken seriously in the media. To do this, I must be mindful of my role as researcher, guide, and facilitator. Steinberg (2018) references the work of Freire and “reminds us that empowerment cannot be taught; rather, we can act as conduits to creating safe spaces and opportunities for empowerment/ enlightenment to take place” (p. 197). Kelly (2006) also cautions:

In working with youth, whether in school or other settings, adult researchers should not simply cede their authority to students….Adult researchers can and should, through their leadership and guided by social justice or anti-oppression principles, create moments where their authority is shared with students by temporarily placing young people in research roles and then reflecting with them on what they learned. (p. 41)

By sharing my power as researcher, I can work with young adults to reflect on their stories in new ways. The re-telling will continue to be my responsibility, but I will involve the youth at different stages—interviews, follow-up discussions, member checking, and presentation of the finished story—to invite feedback and to be held accountable for my choices along the way.

Disaster Research: From Scientific Findings to Stories of Experience

Those impacted by Hurricane Katrina need to share their stories of struggle and survival for others to hear and learn from. Such a tragedy should not be forgotten – being able to

talk about a traumatic event can be painful, but it is a helpful coping strategy. (Jones, Dugan Burns, Immel, Moore, Schwartz-Goel, and Culpepper, 2009, p. 87)

Much of the research around disasters is found in fields related to psychology and psychiatry. This work is interesting and has significant implications for health care and disaster- response service providers. While contributing to these bodies of literature is not the main focus of my research, the stories I share complement and expand on the existing disaster response and recovery conversations. My work echoes the experiences and findings expressed by natural disaster-related studies, but focuses on story and place—water, youth, power, and relationships.

Although my research situates in a qualitative and storying direction, it would be difficult to ignore the quantitative and science-based research about youth and natural disasters. Thus, I explore some of the existing research in the following areas: psychology and mental health disaster research; impacts of social support for youth in the aftermath of storms; and, investigations with families in the wake of disasters.

Psychological and mental health implications for youth post-disaster. In Fran Norris,

Matthew Friedman, Patricia Watson, Christopher Byrne, Eolia Diaz, and Krzysztof Kaniasty’s

(2002a) empirical review of the empirical literature on disasters between 1981-2001, the researchers gathered and compared the results of 160 studies, involving over 60,000 disaster victims in total. Using regression analyses and other comparative approaches, they offered several insights from the literature survey specific to different identifiers and experiences.

Findings that pertained to flood, families, post-disaster response, and/or youth are as follows: floods impact communities on the individual and collective levels; school-aged youth are more harshly affected by disaster than the adults sampled; parents’ distress in response to disaster correlates to their children’s distress in response to disaster; sources of stress—including financial, personal, physical, marital, parental, or ecological losses and strains—can shift over

65 time, resulting in the need for supports and interventions over a prolonged period of time post- disaster; and, received and perceived support are important factors for the mental health and overall well-being of disaster victims.

Building from this review, Fran Norris, Matthew Friedman, Patricia Watson (2002b) further summarized and analyzed the data to offer implications from the overarching body of disaster related research. I have read the specific results put forward by Norris et al. (2002b) with consideration for the points that inform aspects of my own research, for example: “Youth exhibited additional problems unique to their age groups, such as behavioral problems, hyperactivity, and delinquency, but like adults, they were also vulnerable to PTSD, depression, somatic complaints, and ongoing stress” (p. 241). Further, youth have a greater likelihood for needing to access mental health supports:

Relative to the risk of adult survivors, risk of severe impairment increased if the sample was composed of youth. It was previously stated that the effects of disasters stem from the cumulative or synergistic effects of acute helplessness, instinctual arousal, inability to comprehend and make sense of the world, loss of perceived safety, and loss of important attachments and perceived social support. To this extent this view of the phenomenon is accurate, it follows quite logically that, on average, youth would be less well equipped to cope with disasters than are adults. (p. 243)

The analyses also suggest that, while youth attract a lot of much-needed attention through schools, it might be more beneficial to consider and address the needs of the families on the whole; when the needs of the parents are being met, the youth benefit significantly from the familial support and stability.

Other systemic implications include the need for: multi-level—individual, family, neighbourhood, community, and societal—interventions after a large-scale disaster; coordination of agencies, such as “offices of public and mental health, substance use prevention and treatment

66 programs, victims services, school systems, universities, media, and various community-based and nongovernmental organizations” (p. 248); service providers to include disaster victims in decision-making processes, with a focus on empowerment and self-efficacy; and, maintenance and/or return to naturally occurring social supports, recognizing that:

Returning to normal activities as soon as possible may be important because these activities keep people informed about the relative needs of network members and provide the best forums for the sharing of experiences and feelings that is believed to be so important for disaster victims… More importantly, such activities may serve to preserve a sense of continuity, social embeddedness, and quality of community life. (p. 248)

In January 2017, Julie Drolet, Caroline McDonald-Harker, Anna Iliscupidez, and Amy

Fulton (2018) conducted a community-based and arts-informed research project in the town of

High River with children and youth, ages ten to sixteen, to learn about their experiences of the

2013 Alberta flood. They concluded that the youth involved in the study demonstrated greater resilience when they had strong support from their primary caregivers who were helping them to meet their physical and psychological needs. The youth identified the importance of their social networks—family and friends—in overcoming the daily post-disaster challenges.

Unemployment was identified as a significant economic impact that also affected many families.

Interestingly, the youth demonstrated empathy for the victims of the 2016 Fort McMurray wildfire, commenting that they could relate to what they were going through. It was also reported that the ability for youth to support others with the post-flood clean up, was positively related to their resilience.

The Fort McMurray wildfire of 2016 replaced the 2013 Alberta Floods as the most expensive natural disaster in Canadian history (Evans, 2016; Shepard, Kulig, & Pujadas Botey,

2017). Both disasters have had devastating long-term social and economic effects. The Globe and Mail published an article (Giovannetti, 2019) that describes the results of a recent study

(Brown, Agyapong, Greenshaw, Cribben, Brett-MacLean, Drolet, McDonald-Harker, Omeje,

Mankowsi, Noble, Kitching, & Silverstone, 2019) involving high school students who were evacuated during the 2016 Fort McMurray, Alberta wildfire. The research found that 37% of students showed signs of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Schools in the community had already built in several supports, including: mental health resiliency training for staff, on-site counsellors, and the services from a mental health therapist. Despite the school board’s pro- active approaches to addressing the students’ needs for post-disaster programming, almost half of Fort McMurray’s high school students met the criteria for anxiety, depression, PTSD, or substance abuse when they were surveyed—18 months after the mass evacuation.

Matthew Brown et al.’s (2019) study points to the need for extensive long-term mental health supports for adolescence living through disaster, as long-term psychological symptoms can become evident immediately after the disaster event or up to ten years later. They note “that adolescents are vulnerable to, and adversely impacted by disasters” (p. 10).

Key findings from Blythe Shepard et al.’s (2017) study with students and families affected by the 2011 Slave Lake wildfire found that in the time after the disaster families, specifically parents, were focused on “a return to normal life” (p. 67). As a result of the school closures and suspension of extracurricular programming, there were few opportunities for youth to gather and socialize with one another. The study also suggested that the youth may not have reported their fears and worries to their already overwhelmed parents as a means to protect them from added stress. While youth face a lot of changes within their families, communities, social circles, and day-to-day routines, Shepard et al. (2017) point to the important role schools can play in the support and recovery; specifically:

If not affected structurally by wildfires, the school can become a community hub, providing a sanctuary for children and their families postdisaster [sic]. Since schools have

always been a focal point of community activity in rural communities, they can provide a safe haven and a familiar routine. Children can access professional support from their teachers and school counsellors as well as peer support. School counsellors can work with school personnel to implement strategies at the school level and in the classroom; for those children who need more support due to symptoms of PTSD, individual counselling and group counselling can be provided. (p. 76)

While the research clearly points to the ways in which youth can be supported through schools and school-based programs post-disaster, my work asks: what about the recent graduates who no longer have the connections to schools and access to the services the schools may provide?

There are numerous psychological symptoms and disorders that have been studied in the wake of natural disasters; the most prevalent being PTSD, followed by major depressive disorder, substance—alcohol, cigarettes, and drugs, including marijuana—use disorder, general anxiety disorder, and more (Goldmann & Galea, 2014; Norris et al., 2002b). While the experiences and psychological reactions of youth differ from those of adults, Kar (2009) lists the same aforementioned psychological disorders among those experienced by children and adolescence in the wake of disaster and advocates for the systematic screening of youth following disasters. Children and youth who experience disasters are particularly vulnerable, as they may be less equipped to cope in the aftermath (Drolet et al., 2018; Goldmann & Galea,

2014; Kar, 2009; Norris et al., 2002b).

While I am cognizant of these potential long-term effects from the disaster experience, my research is interested in the stories the participants tell and what we can learn from their experiences. I am not a psychologist, but it is important for me to know the impacts disaster can have on the psychological well-being of the youth in my study.

Many of the youth noted that supports from psychologists and counsellors might have been beneficial in the wake of the flood. To honour this aspect of the interviews, I would like to

69 acknowledge a suggestion of internet-based cognitive-behavioural therapy or other web-based programs that may be accessed anonymously and from a distance in the aftermath of disasters, potentially reducing post-disaster psychological problems and reaching those who might not otherwise be supported (Bryant & Litz, 2009; Goldmann & Galea, 2014). Additionally, group therapy is presented as a second potentially beneficial means of supporting youth, post-disaster

(Kar, 2009).

Social support after natural disasters. Betty Lai, Melissa Osborne, Jennifer Piscitello,

Shannon Self-Brown, and Mary Lou Kelley (2018) looked at peer and adult (parent and teacher) support of children in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in relation to posttraumatic stress symptoms (PTSS). They found that immediately after a natural disaster there can be less available social support from adults, as their first priority may be to address the needs for basic resources (e.g. accessing clean water, rebuilding homes and schools, receiving medical care, etc.). Over time, adults were shown to provide increased social support as they were able to focus more attention towards the needs of the children and/or saw greater signs of distress manifesting. Children reported peer support as having “a friend who understood them, who they could talk to, and with whom they could spend time” (p. 7). This study also suggests that in “the first two years post-disaster, parents and peers are recovering themselves, thus decreasing the availability of social support for others” (p. 7). As social support is considered a potential indicator of a child’s ability to cope with distress, the availability of social support may be an important indicator of a child’s resiliency/ vulnerability post-disaster.

Similarly, Jones, Dugan Burns, Immel, Moore, Schwartz-Goel, and Culpepper (2009) looked at several studies that examined the impacts of Hurricane Katrina on children and adolescents. They cite Hobfall and Stokes (1988) who suggest that social support is an important

70 predictor of outcomes after a disaster; “Specifically, social support often acts as a protective factor; the higher the level of social support, the lower the levels of [posttraumatic stress disorder] PTSD symptoms” (p. 76). Jones et al. also refer to the work of Vernberg, La Greca,

Silverman, and Prinstein (1996), who consider social support in relation to the symptoms of children after Hurricane Andrew, finding, “Specifically, children who perceived the highest level of support from others had the least amount of distress following the hurricane. Social support has also been shown to be a significant factor in predicting positive outcomes following a trauma” (p. 76). As a specific facet of social support, Jones et al. further note “disaster-specific investigations also document the negative impact that parents’ post-disaster functioning can have on their offspring” (p. 82).

By considering the aforementioned studies, it is clear that social support plays a significant role in children and youth’s abilities or inabilities to cope in the aftermath of disaster.

The concept of social support fits with my following questions: Who is there for youth in the immediate aftermath? How are they supported in the long-term recovery?

Families in the wake of disasters. Garrison and Sasser (2009) looked at family resilience and meaning-making after a natural disaster. Many themes emerged from their work, including benefits of improved relationships, greater prioritization and planning, and reappraisal of what really matters in life. To make sense of what happened, families attributed the disaster to various causes, including: natural environment occurrences; God’s will or retribution from

Mother Nature; and/or social order that teaches a lesson or is part of a grand cosmic plan.

Additionally, Garrison and Sasser (2009) noted that participants maintained a sense of optimism, and offered a surprising amount of humour in their responses. Old adages were also prominent in the interviews, such as:

‘There is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Behind every cloud is a silver lining. Take the good with the bad. Don’t let it beat you down. Take one day at a time. Pick yourself up by the bootstraps. Life is short.’ (p. 121)

Families find different ways to explain the occurrences of natural disasters and to cope with the aftermaths. As a result of their findings, Garrison and Sasser (2009) share the following conclusions: “make people [and pets] the priority;” “weather happens;” and “hope rules and humour helps” (p. 124).

While my research focuses on youth, their stories include aspects of their family lives.

The participants offer examples of meaning-making and include adages in relation to the flood.

When it rains, it pours. Significantly, I attempt to accurately reflect the levels of optimism, hope, and humour that was shared by the youth—not fabricating these attributes out of desire, but representing them in the degree they appeared. While writing humour is admittedly challenging

(King, 2000/2010), I have done my best to include the laugh-worthy anecdotes in the work as a naturally-occurring expression of disaster resiliency (Garrison & Sasser, 2009). The funny moments exist in the stories told, and retold; as do the bittersweet ironies in the stories they avoided telling—the humour is both uplifting, and at times, dark.

Reflections in the Water: Holding Up a Mirror Through Research

My research is not intended to fit into the psychological or psychiatric, science-based body of literature, or to build on someone else’s framework. If I have done my work well, the stories I bring forward should feel familiar to the youth involved in the study and to other youth living through a disaster. The findings should make sense in the way that they resonate with the participants, as information already known by them. My work should provide them with a recognizable reflection of the experiences that they shared with me.

My hope is that the image the participants see is not distorted, blurry, or unknown. The stories should feel like their own, yet told by me through storied métissage. I want my research to be accurate, such that the actions of the narrative convey the emotions and sentiments felt by the participants. If I have been successful in the telling, the stories may resonate with other youth dealing with adversity. The audience’s stories might be wholly different, but the connections and accessibility should be similar for those who have experienced disaster. If done well, the work fosters a sense of belonging, helping others to know they are not alone.

The Power of Water

From my time as a Montessori educator, I have long been aware of the work of water. It is all around us and influences everything in our lives. Water is in our bodies. It moves and shapes the earth around us. Water is ever present—an omniscient being and teacher. It has been here long before life existed and has supported the conditions for all living things.

From Indigenous perspectives and teachings, water is sacred. It factors into the creation stories and sustains life. LaBoucane-Benson, Gibson, Benson, and Miller (2012) share stories from their research with Cree Elders, where they have noted:

Water is regarded with reverence because it is connected to the people’s relationship with the Creator, and it is a perceived sacred being – a Grandmother in the spirit world, with whom we are in relationship….Water is venerated and considered sacred because it is one of the life-giving and life-sustaining gifts that are absolutely necessary for survival….When water is respected, it remains pure, thus, it holds the power to heal the people who are sick and grow the medicines that heal illness….Our bodies are made up of water; therefore, there is no separation between the water and human beings. The sacred water that births our babies is a part of our bodies as well. We are the water, and the water is us; if we respect the water, we are respecting ourselves. To pollute the water is to pollute our bodies, which will eventually put our survival at risk. (p. 7)

I feel connected to the work of LaBoucane-Benson et al. (2012) because my work as a research assistant has taken me to the same community where their research was situated, with the Fort

McKay First Nation. In my visits, I have heard the Elders speak of the changes to the land and water. Their voices and stories stay with me. While the research foci are different, the messages about the environment stay the same. We are doing irreparable damage to our life-giving water systems and relationships to the land. Elder Fred Campiou (as cited in LaBoucane-Benson et al.,

2012) states in an interview:

I am concerned about [our pastahowin] with water… The water itself is one of the most important Grandmothers, elements in our world that we need to take care of, we need to respect. Without that water, nothing is going to live. There’s a lot of people doing things with the water that’s creating this poison, this environment where it’s not going to be safe. Already, we see it back home, we don’t feel safe to drink in our rivers – we don’t want to eat the fish… Some of our ceremonial people will not eat the ducks anymore that we use in ceremony because of where they are landing. How toxic they are, what kind of sickness might be in those animals. Same thing with the moose… they were very sick, when they opened them up there was this green stuff, basically rotting within. It’s sick. It’s everywhere, in every part of our life the water it is there. If we don’t look after it, we are going to be finished. (pp. 14-15)

Due to the influence of the oil industry, the relationship with water has changed in Northern

Albertan communities. The water is no longer safe for people or animals. Plants that used to grow in the area, no longer appear on the landscape. The relationships between the humans, the plants, and the animals, have changed. The balance and interdependence has been lost.

Youth speak to this crisis as well. DePape (2012) writes:

At its core, the developmental model of social change is the notion: ‘Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day, teach a man to fish and he will feed himself for a lifetime’. The people of Fort Chip, know how to fish – they’ve been doing it for years, and it’s patronizing to suggest that a bunch of development people would teach them. The

problem is that the people in Fort Chip, for example, now fear fishing because of us! – their water is being poisoned with the Tar Sands. Therefore, the solution is not just one of development – it’s of justice. This is why several articles in this [journal issue] examine projects that move beyond charity to working for political change. (p. 20)

While the fish analogy is used both figuratively and literally, it does speak truth to the realities of life in Northern Albertan communities. Industry has forced Indigenous communities to accept the funds and conditions that have altered their ways of life. There was an illusion of choice; but for people who have any realistic picture of the colonial relationship between the Canadian government and Indigenous peoples over the past few hundred years might know, the choices were likely not choices at all—take money and let us destroy the environment around you; or, do not take money and let us destroy the environment around you. The negative environmental impact was going to take place either way, because development and industry, money and jobs, take precedent over environmental concerns and Indigenous rights.

Government powers continue to bend to the demands of industry. We prioritize pipelines and tar sands development over water protection and healthy ecosystems. The choices the government is making are destroying our Earth. The devastation may seem remote and isolated, but the symptoms of rapid climate change can be felt everywhere. The increasing frequency of natural disasters and extreme weather systems has become “the new normal” (Davison, 2013;

Slinger & Wood, 2015). Mother Earth is speaking to us, but are we listening?

Ecological Engagement After Natural Disasters

Looking next to the work of Ackerman, Druschke, McGreavy, and Sprain (2016), “The

Skunkwork of Ecological Engagement” provides an example of insights gained from informal spaces of community engagement after a flood disaster. As the authors describe, “ecological engagement is about attending to the possibilities of dwelling in a place; skunkwork is a way of

75 orienting this dwelling” (p. 75). Specifically, the term “skunkwork” is used “to describe informal spaces of learning, creativity, self-coordination, and transformation” (p. 77). Using conference workshops as sites of informal research with resilient communities, Ackerman, Druschke,

McGreavy, and Sprain explore proximity, movement, ecological narration, and weak theory as four emergent attributes of skunkwork for ecological engagement that may inform academic scholarship and community engagement advocacy.

Within the scope of proximity, the authors “disturb the obviousness and thus invisibility of dwelling near water, in pipe or stream, an obviousness that points to an endangered condition in late modern life” (p. 80). Water is endangered, commodified, and monitored by various jurisdictional organizations for different purposes. Through the workshops, different groups came together and found that they had common interests in sustainability and flood recovery.

In this study, movement was taken up similarly to the Aristotelian sense of peripatesis of learning while walking beside a sage; in this study, the creek became the sage that the researchers and participants were learning alongside. In their words: “Peripatesis, by necessity, reveals an authority given place, and there could be the inklings of a kind of ecological wisdom learned over time then re-acquired through movement near, through, and toward earthly and worldly ecologies” (p. 84). Walking along the creek became an integral part of the workshops and a touchstone for the learning that extended beyond the experience.

Considering ecological narration, the authors noted that participants wanted to tell stories of similar happenings from their personal histories or connections to their home communities.

Extrapolating from their ideas and respecting that they could not share the experiences of the participants from the workshops, Ackerman, Druschke, McGreavy, and Sprain offer examples of ecological narration from their own lives. Each account is descriptive and centred around a

76 single place; their stories are layered as they grow first from a single memory, to a sense of the place over time; and the sharing moves from personal reflections and learning, to reflexive practices where societal implications are explored.

The idea of weak theory is described by Gibson-Graham (as cited in Ackerman,

Druschke, McGreavy, & Sprain, 1996) as the demystifying of power in favour of recovering diverse, local economies. With regard to the skunkwork of ecological engagement, weak theory represents the movement away from structure-bound, strong theories with one way of doing and knowing, towards community-engaged practices that invite multiple approaches and understandings; specifically, the skunkwork “dislodges the self and the arrogance of mastery over either social or ecological scenes” (p. 89).

As a point of commonality, the Boulder Creek flood that is central to the skunkwork article happened the same year as the High River flood that is central to my research; both floods took place in 2013. The idea of proximity resonates with the presence of water as an ever-present but often over-looked danger, as rivers flow though many communities. Communities build near waterways, to be near the resource needed to sustain life. Property near water is also desirable for the natural views. The ‘obviousness’ and ‘invisibility’ of place-dangers is also echoed in the name of our community, “High River,” an irony that many poked fun at in light of the flood event—the name is an obvious indication of the potential dangers, yet the joking becomes an all too painful reminder of the previously invisible truth it revisits.

With the notion of movement, the scholars make reference to peripatesis as an experience of learning from the ecology of place. Moreover, the idea of being attentive to and learning from the land has been known to Indigenous peoples and practiced for thousands of years.

Relationships with land require attention, care, and effort, like other kinds of relationships. Being

77 in relationship brings an innate sense of responsibility as well. Cruikshank (1990) speaks to the power of place to signal memories of teachings and stories. For many people, we have forgotten to pay attention to our surroundings in any deep or meaningful way; this gets in the way of our ability to read the signs, to learn from place, and to remember what the land has taught us over time. The Blackfoot knew the area as Ispitzee which means “place of high trees along running water” (“High River,” 2018, “History” para. 1). The ‘high trees’ are black cottonwood trees, which are known to grow along floodplains. Why was no one listening to the land?

The concept of ecological narration became particularly salient for me as it relates to my interest in stories of the flood—stories told about a specific place where the learning speaks back to society in meaningful ways. McGreavy writes of the low pools of water that formed in the

Spring behind her childhood house near the Saco River. She recalls the chorus of frogs, and later learned about a phenomenon that she now associates with these memories. As McGreavy describes:

Big Night is that evening when we step out into the rain and can feel spring seep into our lungs. This is the night when we can, in a bodily way, remember the movement of our planet around its sun. This remembering is, as I imagine it, similar to how frogs, salamanders, and other sentient beings remember their migrations: navigating by stars and smells and other sensate cues. When frogs sense the seasons shift, they start to sing. The chorus, for me, has become one way of keeping time following a different rhythm: embodied, sonic, cyclical. (p. 85)

McGreavy’s story is personal, educational, and memorable; it speaks beyond the context of eastern and western Maine, highlighting our interconnectedness with the rhythms of Mother

Earth.

Stories of flood factor heavily into Sprain’s ecological narration. She notes that her connection to floods began four years before she was even born, with Colorado’s deadliest flash

78 flood. When she married in late-August 2013, it was a time of historic rainfall. The friends and family who gathered wore newly purchased rainboots. The “2013 flood ‘ravaged’ the riverside park where [she] got married… the park has not yet reopened” (p. 88).

Sprain’s experience of post-flood life echoes of my own flood experiences. She writes,

“dwelling in Colorado now means talking about the flood, rebuilding and recovering, recognizing how flood damage has not been shared equally” (p. 88). She goes on to note that not everyone returned home after the flood. This was also true for the residents of High River. Each person’s experience was different, damage varied from home to home, and some people chose never to return.

With regard to weak theory, Ackerman, Druschke, McGreavy, and Sprain acknowledge that there is wisdom in the world beyond written texts, and propose “radical listening to everyday places. The rare birdcall…. The flash flood. The interruption that opens your ears and minds. [They] suggest that academia has a too highly developed sense of talking and a less fostered sense of listening” (p. 91). Since the flood, I have been practicing my radical listening along the berm in High River. It is with a similar belief about academic work—focusing too highly on speaking, rather than listening—that I wish to humbly begin my own research, from a weak position.

I did not come into the work to follow a well-charted map or path, or to be the guide that shows participants the way. Instead, I set out with an openness to learn from the young adult flood survivors through listening, following their leads, and exploring multiple stories and pathways of experience. Using storywork to gather stories about the lives of youth in the aftermath of the 2013 High River flood, I am contributing to the critical discourse of disasters, speaking truth to power as it relates to immediate responses and long-term recoveries, shedding

79 light on the beliefs and happenings of post-flood life from multiple perspectives of young adults, and building on the skunkwork of ecological engagement as it pertains to flood ravaged areas through story.

Wait! Where is “Well-Being” in this Literature Review?

To be honest with you, I completed the study and entire first draft of this manuscript without including a focus on well-being. Why would I do something so inane, you might ask.

With good reason, I say. Initially I had set out to conduct research that addressed the well-being of youth in schools. After ten years of teaching, I saw a growing need for a well-being focus in our education system. More and more students were coming into my classes with diagnoses of anxiety, depression, and other mental health related disorders.

Nearly five years ago, I conducted a survey of the literature on well-being and youth. It may not be surprising that I found the topic to be saturated with studies and literature—the bulk of which coming from the fields of psychology and psychiatry. While of interest, these are not my specializations, nor did I feel confident pursuing research about well-being from the perspective of an educator. In my experience as an elementary teacher, I had become accustomed to the practices of observing students and referring the ones I had concerns about on to other professionals. Teachers are not trained psychologists; and therefore, they should refrain from diagnosing students. This was a known and accepted aspect of my job. Once students were identified, assessed (by professionals), and provided with coding (and potentially provided with funding for supports), they would be put on an individualized program/education/learning plan

(IPP/IEP/ILP) and then I would be permitted and expected to provide specialized programming to support the student’s learning. As I describe my experience, Michael Apple’s (1986/2013) notion of the “de-skilling” of teachers, comes to mind. With the voices of my experience telling

80 me that mental health and well-being were outside my purview of expertise, I proceeded to frame, conduct, and write my research without well-being.

In hindsight, I see there were many flaws in this logic. First, a student often needs to be in crisis before they are seen by a specialist, diagnosed, and supported. By this standard alone, we are failing our students.

In all my years of teaching, the well-being of students has always been a central concern in my practice, in innate and informal ways. I spent countless hours working with students to address their social and emotional needs—listening to their struggles, concerns, and stories— then offering guidance and support in whatever ways I could. It was an aspect of my teaching that was often relegated to the recess breaks, lunch times, and other available stretches during the three hour work periods. Some direct teaching would occur during class time, such as group problem solving around shared or common issues and other activities related to the health section of the program of studies. But, well-being education was always tangential to (and at the expense of) time allocated for other subject areas. Now, I am asking: Why is well-being not the primary focus of education? Shouldn’t it be?

Instead of shying away from well-being, I am going to lean into it. Well-being teachings are important aspects of education. They fit with the soft skills—primarily: people, social, and communication skills, as well as attitudes and dispositions conducive to employment (Wikipedia, n.d.); and, I would argue, they are important to personal well-being and overall happiness in life that many teachers tacitly nurture. Aspects of communication often feature in language arts programs of study; but, beyond that, the types of “skills” that are more difficult to assess receive less attention and are ascribed less value within an evaluation-driven education system. What might education look like if well-being was the priority?

Well-Being in Education

Jonathan Cohen (2006), from the Center for Social and Emotional Education, contends that “the goals of education need to be reframed to prioritize not only academic learning, but also social, emotional, and ethical competencies” (p. 201). Having evaluated the related school-based mental health research in the United States, “Cohen suggests that social-emotional skills, knowledge, and dispositions provide the foundation for participation in a democracy and improved quality of life” (p. 201). He argues that education focused primarily on literacy and mathematical competencies is insufficient in preparing youth for their future responsibilities of citizenship, life, relationships, health, and work. Despite the existence of hundreds of social, emotional, ethical, and academic education curricula, Cohen cautions that very few are evidence- based. Additionally, he points to the need for greater civic engagement—where social and political issues may be better addressed—through social justice education that promotes understanding, tolerance, and compromise. While Cohen’s work is based in the United States, the movement towards more purposeful inclusion of social, emotional, and ethical education is happening in Canada as well.

Well-being is becoming more pervasive in educational literature in response to the increasing needs of the students. Psychologist Lynette Eulette (2014) asserts that one in every five youth—around 20% of the student population—is struggling with mental health problems.

Further, Eulette suggests that “teachers are in a unique position to notice emotional and behavioural difficulties associated with learning, and to notice when there are changes in a student’s behaviours” (para. 9). Symptoms of mental health challenges may include: “social isolation, inattention, weak social skills, strong emotional reactivity, aggression, hyperactivity

/impulsivity, poor frustration tolerance, changes in behaviour or mood” (para. 10) and

82 behaviours and emotional responses that would not be considered age-appropriate. Significantly,

“Untreated problems can become more pronounced over time, and, as a result, secondary school educators are more likely to observe more serious mental health difficulties amongst students than elementary school educators” (para. 12); these increased factors may also contribute to higher rates of substance abuse and addictions.

In response to the growing demand for mental health programming in education settings across Canada, Yifeng Wei and Stan Kutcher (2014) note that school-wide approaches to address the complex mental health needs of young people are beginning to be developed; these programs should be research-based and build upon the existing school ecologies, as well as integrate outside resources that support youth from outside of the school system. They also advocate for increased mental health literacy for students, educators, and administrators; specifically, Wei and

Kutcher identify four areas of focus: “understanding how to foster and maintain good mental health; understanding mental disorders and their treatments; decreasing stigma; and seeking help effectively” (para. 6). One program titled Mental Health & High School Curriculum Guide was developed by Kutcher in partnership with the Canadian Mental Health Association; upon implementation and testing, Wei and Kutcher highlight the successes of the guide, stating: “It provides a relatively simple, economical and effective method to improve knowledge, decrease stigma and enhance help-seeking efficacy in both teachers and students” (para. 19).

From the above examples, it can be seen that the role of mental health education in schools often focuses on ease of implementation, cost effectiveness, and an ability to streamline people into seeking outside supports—presumably from mental health professionals based outside of the school system. The literature points to the important role educators have in well- being education, but fails to empower educators as being part of the solution. Teachers,

83 administrators, and other staff are treated as intermediaries between the students in need of support and the health care professional who can provide the targeted interventions. While this may be necessary and desirable for some of the youth with mental health difficulties, the literature and programs do not consider that educators could do more. Education could become a site for well-being initiatives that move beyond destigmatizing and identifying needs to reframing how personal and collective health are understood and enacted.

The Canadian Education Association (CEA, n.d.) identifies anxiety and depression as the top two mental health challenges that youth experience today. Drawing on the knowledge of mental health experts, the CEA reports that regular physical activity and reliable stress management strategies can benefit many youth every day. Unlike the previously mentioned literature, the CEA suggests specific ways that educators can proactively support students’ well- being, such as promoting: “positive self-esteem; lifestyles that include physical activity, healthy eating habits and quality sleep; harmonious family relations; supportive school environments that are conducive to learning; positive student-teacher relations” (para. 2), and offers that these factors may do more for students than drug-based treatments alone. While the CEA offers some direction for educators, the work to be done within education continues to read as secondary to the work of mental health professionals—those who have the authority to diagnose and medicate the youth, among other of assessment and intervention.

Arlo Kempf (2018) offers that in the last ten years student well-being has become a more central focus of educational systems: provincially, nationally, and internationally. He boldly terms the current circumstances as “a crisis in youth wellbeing, [where] policy language and foci suggest a broad move to address questions of student physical, emotional, psychological, and socio-cultural wellbeing” (p. 1). Well-being is defined here as a positive sense of health,

84 wellness, and belonging in relation to cognitive, spiritual, social, emotional, and physical needs

(Kempf, 2018; Ontario Ministry of Education, 2016). Kempf critiques the propensity of school divisions to want to measure all aspects of learning, including the teaching of well-being—in relation to academic achievement and accountability—in schools especially when it might be unrealistic, inaccurate, and impractical to do so. He signals that the assessment foci of policy makers misses the importance and highlights the complexities of well-being itself, and should not supersede the primary goal of improving student well-being regardless of the measurability of the means. Instead, Kempf encourages educators to take a relational approach to the pursuit and measurement of well-being. Kempf points to the problematic reality that teachers face when addressing student well-being in schools; quoting, that teachers are “being asked to be the

‘caring adult’ on the front lines of student mental health, while at the same time being told that legally and procedurally only mental health professionals should be dealing with issues related to mental health” (Rodger, Hibbert, Leschied, Pickel, Stepien, Atkins, Koenig, Woods, &

Vandermeer, 2014, p. 20). While the focus on measuring well-being in schools is a flawed endeavour, the practice of addressing social, emotional, cognitive, and physical needs is of considerable value. As school divisions navigate the terrain of well-being education in the years to come, Kempf urges educators to remain vigilant in their work to promote equity; specifically stating:

Just as we look for patterns of academic success or failure along the lines of race, gender, sexuality, income, language, ability, religion, and immigration, so too should we pay close attention to who is being asked to be resilient; for whom successful supports for wellbeing are being provided; and as well, the degree to which students equitably access the teaching and learning of global competencies. (p. 21)

Kempf recognizes the potential for well-being education to privilege the values and practices of the dominant culture, further harming the students who fall outside the dominant set.

Importantly, he invites educators and administrators to consider the possibilities afforded through the inclusion of Indigenous perspectives, asking: “how might approaches to wellbeing take up holistic approaches to wellness including Indigenous knowledges and conceptions of sitting in a good relationship with self, community, and the natural world?” (p. 15). Significantly, my study builds upon this suggestion and recommendation.

Revisiting the Research Plan

For people who have experienced flood, life post-disaster echoes of liminal spaces where we exist in a space of tension between what once was and what is now. For residents of High

River, we had been living with a (false) sense of security, along a peaceful river that betrayed us.

Some victims of the flood were let down by their insurance companies, where loopholes and fine print clauses protected the companies from paying out—though, they still want you to keep paying in. Your rates continue to climb if you have been deemed part of the flood fringe. They are recouping their losses, and profiting off our losses. Homes on the floodway were bought up.

Buyouts were smaller for smaller homes—lucky to get anything really; their fault for building on a floodplain. Buyouts were bigger for bigger homes—the “government buy-outs” were in the millions for the millionaires. Not surprisingly, there was a lot of money given to a few; and, a little money given to many. After the flood, losses were more than monetary. People lost jobs, homes, support systems, loved ones, businesses, community, and faith. Everyone experienced loss differently, but we all lost.

Through critical and applied ethnographic interviews (Madden 2010; Madison, 2012), I invited stories and insights as to the young adults’ experiences of life after the disaster. By establishing research relationships based on respect, reciprocity, responsibility, reverence, and relevance (Archibald, 2008a, 2008b; Kirkness & Barnhardt, 2001), I aimed to establish ethical

86 spaces of engagement (Ermine, 1995) that invited the sharing of multiple perspectives. Utilizing storywork as a potentially decolonizing and emancipatory methodology, I gathered the stories of youth and interpreted their accounts of events, with and against each other, towards deeper insights about their flood experiences and lives since high school.

I conducted individual ethnographic interviews with nine participants in a space of their choosing, including in their homes, over the phone, at universities, and in coffee shops. With participant permission, I took audio recordings of the interviews. No identifying information was kept in the transcripts and all participants were offered the opportunity to read their interview transcripts and provide feedback on their stories.

During the interviews, I asked guiding questions, such as: What has life been like for you since graduation? What has been challenging? What have been your supports? When people ask you about the flood, what responses do you give? Are there stories you have told again and again? Are there stories you have not told? How has your relationship to High River changed over time? How have your relationships to your peers and friends changed, or stayed the same?

What have been the hardest lessons in life since high school? Is there anything you wish you could have told yourself six years ago about how these last six years would go? Is there anything that you would have done differently if you could? Anything that you are particularly proud of doing? What advice would you give other youth who are facing life after disaster? What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through a disaster? Is there anything you want me to know that I have not asked about already?

After the interviews and initial member checking related to the transcripts, I shared my interpretations and analysis of the stories with those involved. This sharing provided another

87 opportunity for feedback and further member checking. My follow up also provided another opportunity for the participants to withdraw their stories from the project, if desired.

Throughout the various stages of the research, I looked for a way to give back to the participants through reciprocity. In the ways that their stories contributed to my learning, the research project needed to be of benefit to the participants in some way too. This can only be determined by and with them, and looked different from person to person. In most cases, I will not know the extent of my success in meeting this aim.

Using the storywork methodology and praxis of métissage I braided together the experiences of the participants in storied métissage, recognizing that métissage brings together distinct voices and ideas to create a new blended or mixed identity ((Blood et al., 2012;

Chambers, Hasebe-Ludt, & Donald, 2002; Chambers, Hasebe-Ludt, Donald, Hurren, Leggo, &

Oberg, 2008; Hasebe-Ludt, Chambers, & Leggo, 2009). Storied métissage allowed me to bring together the voices and stories of the participants in a holistic, ethical, and empowering way.

More Wise Words

Shortly after I passed my candidacy, a friend cautioned: A lot of graduate students do a brilliant job framing their study as Indigenous (positioning themselves, referencing the literature, and outlining Indigenous methods) but many fall into the trap of completing their research, analysis, and synthesis without carrying the Indigenous intentions—processes and practices—forward, creating a dis connect.

I do not want to fall into this trap.

Chapter 3: Stories and Analysis

The Gifts of Dreams I dreamt the oversized body of my research data washed ashore in a foreign land. Akin to Swift’s Gulliver arriving on the Lilliputian’s beach. So large and imposing, an imminent threat. Needing to be bound before it awakens thrashing to escape the innumerable tiny threads connecting it to the field. Crude restraints anchoring the living, vibrant body of stories. I dreamt

Bricoleurs move from convergent to divergent forms of meaning making, abandoning the shortsightedness of prespecified, correct patterns of analysis in favor of more holistic, inclusive, and eclectic models. In this context, the “present awareness” of numerous cultural, historical, and philosophical traditions are explored for insights into new ways of thinking, seeing, being, and researching. (Kincheloe, 2005b, p. 347)

Bricoleur’s Notes

In “Stories and Analysis,” I bridge my pre-research thinking and open-ended planning with my after-interview trepidations and realizations, beginning with “(Un)Inhabiting My Ethical

Framework for Living Well in the World of Research.” Determining how to move forward with the data analysis, I recognized that I had been putting up unnecessary barriers and started

“Trusting Myself to Look Inward: Embracing Ermine’s (1995) Aboriginal Epistemology.” It is in this chapter that I articulate my theoretical framework more explicitly, as “Living My

Theoretical Framework.” While it is often recommended and expected that the theoretical framework be stated early on in the dissertation (Adom, Hussein, & Agyem, 2018), I feel confident that much of my pre-work was spent showing, rather than telling about my beliefs and values. Unabashedly, I have voiced my esteem for scholars who push accepted and expected boundaries; so, the late placement of my theoretical framework may also be taken as an instantiation of calculated rebellion, at most, or a meandering path to answers, at least.

From here, I expand on the methodological implications for “Embodying Storywork

Principles Within the Research Process,” and explain the ever-present, yet emergent experience of “Seeing My Conceptual Framework.” Moving into the data analysis, I credit my teachers and outline my approach, in “Holistic Guidance and Critical Analysis.” Taking into account the previously introduced concept of literary métissage (Hasebe-Ludt, Chambers, & Leggo, 2009), I use my license as bricoleur to cobble out a needed variation of métissage to meet my research needs, then defining, “What is Storied Métissage?” By “Introducing the Holistic Teachers” into the analysis process, I am able to create a multi-voiced dialogue around well-being in the

“Critical Analysis of Emergent Themes” that follows, towards meaning-making practices for each theme.

(Un)Inhabiting My Ethical Framework for Living Well in the World of Research

I had been trying to envision how the stories I gathered fit together. For a brief time, I was asking: How will I interpret these stories in a way that makes sense and will yield findings for my doctoral thesis? The focus of my thought was on my needs and desire to complete my dissertation and having the information yield something that could help me pass my defence.

Now I see that I was working with a flawed sense of purpose. Instead of thinking about it as what the stories could do for me, I needed to be thinking about my responsibilities: to, first and foremost, the participants (Weber-Pillwax, 2004); to the stories; to other flood victims; and to students transitioning out of the K-12 school system into their next phases of life.

The stories are gifts from the participants. I have been honoured to receive them and I have a responsibility to the participants to handle their stories as cherished items. The stories are like a bundle in many ways, a story bundle. I have a responsibility to the stories, I need to: treat them as sacred, protect them, honour their teachings, and carry them forward.

So now I ask: How will I interpret the teachings from these stories in ways that will honour their gifts, while protecting and caring for them?

Trusting Myself to Look Inward: Embracing Ermine’s (1995) Aboriginal2 Epistemology

Aboriginal people should be wary of Western conventions that deny the practice of inwardness and fortitude to achieve transformative holism. (Ermine, 1995, p. 103)

Aboriginal epistemology speaks of pondering great mysteries that lie no further than the self. (Ermine, 1995, p. 109)

2 While I have intentionally used the term Indigenous throughout this dissertation, Ermine (1995) uses the term Aboriginal in his chapter. As such, I have mirrored his terminology in this section to honour his work and voice. Both terms are taken to have the same meaning in this context. The language used to describe Indigenous people has been in a perpetual state of flux since colonization, and is indicative of our ongoing efforts towards recognition, respect, autonomy, reclamation, and revitalization in our collective decolonizing project.

Only through subjectivity may we continue to gain authentic insights into truth. (Ermine, 1995, p. 110)

While Western worldviews and epistemologies have long been privileged in research and the pursuit of knowledge, over Aboriginal worldviews and epistemologies, the Earth has been decimated by humans who see themselves as superior to the more-than-human world (Abram,

1996; Atleo, 2011; Ermine, 1995; Four Arrows, 2020; Kimmerer, 2013; King, 2003; Little Bear,

2000; Markides, 2020a). Objectifying and asserting dominance over the world has become a hallmark of colonization. Control over the outside world is an illusion. All it takes is a flood, wildfire, or pandemic to show us humans that our way of life is both precarious and precious

(Little Bear, 2016).

Willie Ermine (1995) describes the difference between Western epistemology and

Aboriginal epistemology: where Western science seeks to makes sense of the outer world through physical exploration and atomism, Indigenous peoples look inward to gain insight into the world and metaphysical knowledge. Ermine argues that Aboriginal people have had well- established processes for gaining knowledge that informed individual and societal development.

These practices were/are rooted in language, ceremony, culture, dreams, visions, and prayer, as knowledge stems from one’s spirit.

Contrary to a Western sense of self—that implies individualism and separateness; an

Aboriginal conception of self recognizes the interconnectedness of all things—"Aboriginal people found a wholeness that permeated inwardness and that also extended into the outer space.

Their fundamental insight was that all existence was connected and that the whole enmeshed the being in its inclusiveness” (p. 103). Importantly, Ermine’s conceptualization of Aboriginal epistemology points to a powerful turn from Western approaches associated with knowledge acquisition—where new discoveries and insights were believed to exist out in the world waiting

93 to be found—to an Aboriginal practice of looking inward. Knowledge of the world exists inside ourselves, as the product of our cumulative experiences across generations, and in our openness to the mysteries of the universe that may be revealed from within.

For my research, I am trusting myself to look inward; to question the moments and stories that moved me—emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and physically; and to allow insights to spring forth from my experience and introspection, reflexively. Yes, the process will be subjective, and that is okay. Moreover, I see the subjectivity is a desirable and celebrated aspect of knowledge creation.

Living My Theoretical Framework

Indigenous ways of knowing, being, and doing research vary based on each researcher’s cultural groundings, teachings, and experiences. My beliefs and values are reflected in the choices I make. As mentioned in the previous chapter, Wilson (2008) describes the blurred boundaries and inter-relatedness between axiology, ontology, epistemology, and methodology.

Therefore, coming to know something [from the data] is inextricably intertwined with one’s ways of living [research].

Axiologically, I hold ethical relationships—with all beings—as central to life and living well. As such, establishing and maintaining ethical relationships is central to my role as a researcher. Ontologically, I believe that knowledge is inherently subjective. I did not conduct my study in search of universal truths or specific findings. Epistemologically, I acknowledge that what can be known is based on our interpretation of the world; interpretation and understanding exists, like all things, in a state of flux (Little Bear, 2000, 2016). Thus, the storywork methodology is well-aligned with my beliefs and values as a researcher, and the method of

94 conducting ethnographic interviews allows me to enact the methodology in a dialogic (and listening) way.

Embodying Storywork Principles Within the Research Process

As a Montessori educator who often incorporates an inquiry-based approach to teaching,

I have long been accustomed to operating in the space of the unknown. I am comfortable sharing control with students and being open to their interests, ideas, and suggestions. Embracing a

Montessori philosophy has meant that I question: what I am teaching; why it is or should be important to the students; and, how I can create an experience where the learning is meaningful to them. From an inquiry-based approach, I have had to be knowledgeable enough with the subject matter, to: anticipate the possible challenges, occasion for multiple pathways of engagement, and embody flexible practices and responsive pedagogies. The same has been true for my research.

I had a sense of the direction I wanted to go, based on the questions I was asking. The questions centred around the well-being of youth during and after a disaster, and they were framed from a relational and, in places, critical perspective. I needed to prepare myself for multiple pathways and emergent possibilities—by strengthening my knowledge of the existing body of disaster-related literature, especially as it pertained to the experiences of youth.

Setting out with Archibald’s (2008a) storywork principles to guide me, I continually asked myself: How is my approach to the research and the research participants demonstrating respect? What are my responsibilities to the participants and their stories? In what ways can I hold them in reverence and honour the many gifts they have shared with me? How can I use a holistic approach to listening to and learning from the participants’ stories, while recognizing that each story is part of a complex and inter-related whole—a larger disaster-related picture

95 that speaks back to and beyond humanity? How might I capture and reflect back the synergistic moments created between the storytellers/participants, their stories/experiences shared, and the listener/researcher/me, especially as I shift to become the storyteller myself and share the stories with a broader audience? Finally, and perhaps most importantly, how can I reciprocate the generosity of spirit shared by the participants and find a way to give back to them in some meaningful and tangible way, beyond the giving of a monetary gift card?

Enacting the storywork principles throughout the research process, the conceptual framework was both ever-present and emergent.

Seeing My Conceptual Framework

One might ask: how could the conceptual framework for your research be always present, and yet simultaneously emergent? It has been easier for me to see its presence in retrospect. Reflecting on the ethnographic interviews, I considered the nature of the participants’ stories and the questions that had prompted their offerings. I had invited them to share their stories about the challenges, supports, peer relationships, community connections, feelings of pride, and life lessons, they had experienced around the flood and in life since high school. The questions I asked were manifestations of my genuine care, interest, and concern for the overall well-being of the youth involved. Investigating the well-being of youth, as evidenced through the stories they tell, has been the tacit focus of my research from the inception of the project.

Many Indigenous holistic frameworks have been introduced into the areas of education and health care, such as: the circle of courage (Brendtro, Brokenleg, & Van Bockern, 1990) that focuses on growth in the areas of belonging, mastery, independence, and generosity, as well as restorative justice practices; and other medicine wheel processes and teachings (Absolon, 2010,

2016; Archibald, 2008a; Battiste, 2000; Bell, 2014; Cajete, 1994; Calliou, 1995; Carriere &

Richardson, 2013; Graveline, 1998; Hart, 2002; Hill, 2014; Wenger-Nabigon, 2010). Holistic, also called wholistic, theory exists in various forms with several slight variations, depending on the context, teacher, and Nation (Absolon, 2010). While each may vary, the holistic framework is a sacred source of healing (Wenger-Nabigon, 2010). Each representation consists of four directions, quadrants, or doorways: South, West, North, and East, and the holistic: spiritual, mental, physical, and emotional/relational elements or realms. At centre is a sacred fire or self, with connections to Mother Earth. Beyond the circle is often a reference to Creator, with an all- seeing—holistic—view of the universe. Engaging with holistic theory through holistic teachings is a process of striving towards balance and living well in the world.

Even as I write this, I am conscious of the danger of seeing the holistic teachings as pan-

Indigenous or simplistic. While many Indigenous communities across Turtle Island represent teachings in a four-direction or medicine wheel framework, it is crucial to note that each one is community specific, and sometimes even teacher specific. Additionally, the teachings associated with the holistic frameworks are complex and multifaceted. The wisdom shared through the holistic frameworks span historical, present, and future contexts. They speak to responsibilities, relationships, mysteries, and more than can be understood or learned outside the context of ceremony and lifelong learning.

Holistic Guidance and Critical Analysis

While I am Métis, many of my Indigenous teachings have come from Elders from other communities. In a year-long course offered through the University of Alberta, I received guidance from Elder Bob Cardinal of the Maskekosihk Enoch Cree Nation. The course, titled:

Four Directions Teachings: A Holistic Inquiry in Support of Life and Living (2016), centred around holistic educational practices—including ceremony, land-based learning, Elder guidance,

97 and shared meals. Elder Bob welcomed us into his teaching lodge and modelled the values of the holistic teachings in everything that we did. The instructors for the course were Elder Bob

Cardinal, Papaschase Cree scholar Dwayne Donald, and Christine Stewart.

One of the assignments in the course was to assess a critical incident from our own lives through the four directions teachings, drawing on the perspectives of Eagle, Grandmother Mouse the Worker, Thunder Being the Messenger, Buffalo the Gifted, and Bear the Historian, (Elder

Bob Cardinal, personal communication, September, 2016 to July, 2017; University of Alberta,

2016). The purpose of the assignment was to engage with the incident from a holistic lens, towards new insights and understandings. Through a reflective component, the process also highlighted the importance of holistic approaches to life [and teaching]. Jodi Latremouille’s

(2016) article “Raising a Reader: Teachings from the Four Directions” is a beautiful example of this assignment, in which she describes the inner conflict she felt as a parent and educator raising an initially “reluctant reader.”

While the stories from the participants in my study are not my own, I have experienced a wide range of responses to them. I hoped that by revisiting the stories that moved me—as an educator, mother, flood survivor, and researcher—that I would be able see the stories in new ways, through the four directions teachings.

While the research did not reflect a single incident, I trusted that the dialogue with the holistic teachers would be beneficial during the analysis stage of the research—doing so enhanced my focus on well-being and my commitment to the storywork principles. As such, I followed the instructions laid out in the critical incident assignment: first, I provided a detailed account of the cluster of stories, along with my question and/or initial thoughts, in the form of a storied métissage; second, I engaged the voices of the holistic teachers in a generative

98 dialogue; and third, I reflected on the teachings and the process to form my subjective interpretations towards meaning-making. By utilizing critical analysis as the method for engaging with the data and the holistic teachings as the conceptual framework, I tried to honour the Indigenous methodologies laid out in the earlier phases of this project, while respecting my commitment to the stories themselves. I have also carried Elder Bob Cardinal’s generous gifts forward into new aspects of my life and research. I hoped to do the stories justice and to honour

Elder Bob’s guidance.

What is Storied Métissage?

In the research bricolage, I found myself searching for a deliberate way to bring the stories forward. I did not want to leave whole interviews intact, but wanted to see how the stories interacted with each other. With this in mind, I considered what métissage might afford the stories and my interpretations of them. As Dwayne Donald describes:

Having asked the same or similar questions of the participants, it made sense to me that there would be value in comparing and contrasting the participants’ responses. Together, the stories weaved complex pictures of how the youth experienced and responded to the flood, and what their lives have been like since graduation. Storied métissage is the weaving of stories around a particular theme or topic explored in the research. It came about as my response to the emergent

99 needs in the project. The storywork principles informed my thinking—I knew that I needed to carry the stories forward in some meaningful way.

Out of respect and responsibility for the participants’ anonymity, I have provided them with different names in each of the sections. While the names associated with the voices change, the integrity of their stories remains intact.

Introducing the Holistic Teachers3

Using the four directions teachings and guidance from Elder Bob Cardinal, I considered the experiences described by the youth against the holistic framework, including: emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical well-being. Below, I introduce the teachers beginning in the East, as I began much of this writing during Ayikipisim/Frog Moon—I am eager to note that we had been hearing the chorus of frogs in the stream near the Highwood River and noticing the tips changing on the trees and plants, as we moved toward Sakipakawpisim/Leaves Appearing Moon.

I continue to be cognizant of the cycles of renewal in the world around me, and within myself.

East4 Bear the Historian guides our emotional learning. Bear teaches us about the past, and to treat others with patience and compassion. Ways of learning include planting, balancing, reflecting inward, returning, and regenerating. What can our emotional responses and personal histories teach us about renewal?

3 The holistic teachers were introduced by Elder Bob Cardinal in the oral teaching tradition. I have also drawn on the course outline (University of Alberta, 2016) and Jodi Latremouille’s (2014) paper for supplemental details and descriptions. 4 The descriptions of the teachers are partial, at best. The dialogues that I have with the Eagle, Bear the Historian, Grandmother Mouse the Worker, Thunder Being the Messenger, and Buffalo the Gifted require me to construct more fulsome images of who they are and what they represent in my mind. As my understanding about their teachings evolve, so too, do the identities I have come to know. These are the holistic teachers, as I know them now. Inspired by Jodi Latremouille (2014), I have constructed questions that relate to this inquiry. Sometimes the questions are addressing me; and other times, they are addressing the participants and their stories.

100

South Grandmother Beaver5 the Worker guides our spiritual learning. Grandmother teaches generosity, kindness, and care for others, modeling love and respect. Ways of learning include commitment to ceremonies and teachings. What cultural teachings and spiritual connections may inform your learning?

West Thunder Being the Messenger guides our mental learning. He teaches us to show gratitude for the gifts in our lives, and to communicate in respectful ways. Ways of learning include gathering, hunting, storing, searching, and connecting. What learning can be gathered by listening empathetically to the teachings and gifts of others?

North Buffalo the Gifted guides our physical learning. Buffalo teaches us to not be wasteful and to use our gifts fully. Ways of learning include imagining, creating, storytelling, resting, and surviving. How can we provide support for others in ways that create safety and promote strength(s)?

Guiding Vision Eagle oversees all and offers insight from a holistic view. How can we use a holistic view to become more knowledgeable towards living well in the world?

Critical Analysis of Emergent Themes

In order to foster dialogue around the data, I have clustered the stories by themes. The themes reflected the foci of the initial guiding questions, as well as emergent topics from the interviews. I was interested in reading them against one another to better highlight points of

5 After a conversation with Elder Bob Cardinal (personal communication, May 7, 2020), I changed Grandmother Mouse the Worker to Grandmother Beaver the Worker. Elder Bob encouraged me to consider the teachers as they speak to me personally and to make them my own. Having had conversations with them throughout the analysis, I have come to know them in the ways they were first shared with me. However, I feel comfortable in making the one change, as the beavers have become my teachers and guides in relation to the Highwood River. Grandmother Beaver the Worker reflects a change in location—from where the teachings took place, to where I have come to know them in the context of my research in High River—as well as a change in what I have taken spirituality to mean (see the “Meaning-Making” discussion under “Youths’ Experiences Post-Disaster” that follows.)

101 affinity and divergence. Both offer insight into the experiences and needs of youth, post disaster and in life after high school.

Following the examples set out by Cruikshank (1990) and Louie (2016), I have chosen to keep much of the participants’ responses intact. Employing the storywork methodology, I feel strongly that the stories need to be visible and prominent in my presentation of the research. As such, I have woven the responses together in a storied métissage, while also threading in my thoughts, questions, and connections. Then, I engaged in generative dialogue with the holistic teachers, before reflecting towards some semblance of meaning-making. I repeated this three- step process for each story cluster in the following themes, as follows: Surreal Flood

Experiences; Youths’ Experiences Post-Disaster; Unforeseen Challenges; Perseverance and

Accomplishments; Relationships that Support Well-Being; Relationships that Change Over

Time; Relationships to Place; Shifting Priorities: Advice to Their Younger Selves and Youth;

Needs of Youth Post-Disaster; and Graduation.

Surreal Flood Experiences

Storied Métissage

Just as the graduating students who experienced “Tornado Prom” (Burton, 2001) made reference to The Wizard of Oz movie and cited graffiti that read, “not in Kansas anymore,” one of the High River graduates made reference to the Titanic, with regard to her flood experience.

Are there stories you have told again and again? Are there any stories you have not told?

Ava: I find myself very lucky with the flood. There are like a lot of people lost a lot. I was lucky enough to be in a [dwelling] and we were lifted a little bit higher than most [homes] so it like just skimmed the bottom where the floor hit. And so I put my grad dress up on the top shelf in the laundry room before I left and – cause it was in a box. And I put all my art work at the top of my closet.

102

So when we went back it was, all the furniture was gone, we accidentally, we left the windows open cause we thought we were going to be gone for like a day or two at most. But when we came back we got rid of pretty much everything. Furniture was gone, anything that was porous was thrown out. Most of our dishes were thrown out cause they were in the sink cause they were dirty and obviously we didn't have time to wash them before we left.6 Interviewer: And they got really gross in the time that they sat there. Ava: Yeah, so we pretty much just like packed up the cats and thankfully cause my [partner]'s dad said, "Leave them, they'll be fine, we'll be gone for a day or two." So we took the cats, we grabbed some clothes and we left. I don’t, I was at work when it happened, I was at a hotel. So this is the funny part. Anytime someone asks me, "Where were you when you realized it was flooding?" I was at work. I worked in a hotel and so when the golf course area started flooding we had an influx of people from there and we were a pretty quiet hotel so we were like where are all these people coming from. Like we get, as housekeeping we get a list of when people are checking in. So nobody was like supposed to be checking in today and we just had a massive load of people coming in. They were going into the rooms we hadn't cleaned yet and we were very confused, we didn't know what was going on. So we went up to the front desk and they told us that High River was flooding. I was like oh okay, like just like, that's not bad. And it was like, it was the golf course, it's happened before and we were just like okay there's like a couple people that are going to be misplaced. And it got worse and worse, it got to the point that the people that were checking in started checking out. And we lived, me and two of the other girls that were working there, we all lived in [an area of town] that backed against the reservoir or the canal. So one of them made the point of maybe we should go home and grab some stuff so that, in case anything does happen we've got like stuff to go.

6 As part of the storied métissage, I am treating the interview excerpts as block quotes. The passages are both the data and the findings—stories that can teach us something.

103

So, we all left, we all went home, grabbed stuff. I apparently was the only one that went back to the hotel, actually I think there was one other girl that stayed for a while but then once her [partner] got evacuated she left with her [partner]. And then I stayed, I was up on the second floor doing rooms, just twiddling away. And then I go to shut the curtains at one point and – and this was like up by [local restaurant], like up by the high school where it didn't flood – and the parking lot was flooded. I saw a car just drifting, slowly, slowly drifting. It was still kind of like bumping the ground but it was like, I was just staring out the window, I was like oh. Interviewer: [unintelligible 00:10:55]. Ava: I was like this is fun, I was just in shock, didn't know what to do, I was like okay I just got Titanic vibes, I'm like okay. So I ran to the stairs to make sure that the stairs by the canal weren't flooding, they were a little bit. So we, I informed my manager, we grabbed some sandbags, sandbagged up that. They sandbagged up the kitchen, they went crazy for that, it got to the point where – I still continued on after that cause my [partner] came and he found me like upstairs. He worked in the kitchen, so he came upstairs, he was like, "We're leaving", grabbed my hand and took me, I was like, "But I’m not done the room." He's like, "Doesn't matter." And I was informed later that my manager actually got airlifted out of there because he stayed at the hotel, so, yeah. But he was there for three days before he left. So I think it's, the rumour that I was told, cause he just wanted to make sure he could save as much as he could, so, yeah. Interviewer: Wow [unintelligible 00:12:04]. Ava: So, I was, yeah, it was a lot. I was kind of proud of my manager and who he was cause I'm pretty sure not very many people would do that. Interviewer: No. Yeah, go down with the ship, no, preserving the hotel, wow. Ava: It was really weird afterwards too because we ended up going to [a rural community] which is where some of my [partner]'s friends were staying and there was a, the bridge was washed out so we had to take some back roads to figure out how to get there. And we got lost cause there's no cell service, there was no GPS, there was nothing. So we had this Alberta map in our car, we pulled it out and I’m like, I don’t think they're going to show the back roads up here.

104

So we just kind of like went around in circles for a while, it took us almost two, probably about an hour to get to [unintelligible 00:12:56], it's like a 10 minute drive, so. We made it to [the rural community] and it was, we were at a friend's house and it was us and another friend and his girlfriend and we were all in this dinky little house. We were sitting there watching TV and we see all, like the military vehicles coming in and it's just like, it's so otherworldly, it's just, you're just sitting there like watching all of this happen and you can't do anything. So you're just, it was kind of a shock just like what is going on, what is happening. Interviewer: Yeah, it was totally otherworldly. Nobody anticipated it would be what it was, that's for sure. Are there stories that you – well, I think I kind of asked that – stories you've told again and again. Ava: That would mostly be the hotel one, but, yeah, cause [unintelligible 00:13:53] it's Titanic, just open the window and you're like oh the ship's going down. Interviewer: Oh, my gosh, it wasn't your car obviously bobbing around. Ava: No, no, I still don’t know how to drive, so. Interviewer: That's, yeah, that would explain the extra-long transit you had. Ava: We also had to go back to the house cause my [partner]'s brother forgot his wallet. By the time we tried going back, I have a video of this manhole, we were driving and this manhole just and just like lifted and this water came pouring out. I'm like, my first thought was that's gross, that's like, but I guess going to happen. And we got pretty much to the entrance of our, I guess it was right by the cemetery to the entrance of [our neighborhood] and we saw someone wading through the water to come out and he was, it was above his waist. So we were just there's like no way. Interviewer: So you didn't go for the wallet obviously. Ava: We didn't go for the wallet no, he was, he, the hoops he had to go through to get money from the bank was ridiculous afterwards. But, cause he didn't have ID, he didn't have a debit card, he didn't have ID. Interviewer: You're in a Catch 22 because you need some sort of … Ava: Yeah. (Ava’s Interview, 2019)

Are there stories you have told again and again? Are there any stories you have not told?

105

Mya: Depends what they’re asking I suppose. A lot of it is chaos, the entire flood season was chaos. If they want to know stories, it really depends on how they ask or who they ask on their take on their story, what happened that day. Interviewer: What are some stories you tend to tell? Mya: Well the day of the flood, we left because I lived with my parents, we left to go get my hair done because it was a week before grad. We left to go get my hair done and we saw some water in the playground that’s down by our house and we’re like, why does it look like a swimming pool down there. And then so we left, not thinking anything of it, and then my hairdresser was like, she got a phone call, and she’s like oh my God I’ve got to go, my house is flooding. We’re like, your house is flooding? She’s like, all of High River is almost under water. And so – Interviewer: Was it downtown High River? Were you in [the neighbouring town] or where was the hairdresser? Mya: The hairdresser was in [the neighbouring town] but she lived in High River. She lived in the south side I guess that got hit the hardest. So she was like, I’ve got to go, I can’t stay, my house is under, my son is trying to hold my house down and everything. So we left once she was done and then we went to go back into town and they told us we couldn’t come back. So we literally left with the clothes on our back to go out to get my hair done for grad and weren’t allowed back. Then my dad got off work and he managed to go in. He grabbed the essentials, like phone cords and everything and then we were out. It was just crazy. Interviewer: How did he get back in? Mya: They let him. When he got home, it was just before they had closed the entire town down and we lived still at, we were still out of the flood zone so they said, just go in, get your essentials for a night, 2 nights, because they didn’t know the majority of it, and then … so that’s what he did. He went in, grabbed – Interviewer: Can I ask what part of town you were in? Mya: We were in the northwest. Yeah, it was crazy. Interviewer: What did you and … you said you were with your mom. What did you and your mom do?

106

Mya: We took off. I had my mom and my brother. We went over to my grandparent’s house. She lives in Calgary in [a neighbourhood in the south]. Interviewer: I taught in [that neighbourhood]. Mya: So she lives down there so we went over there and stayed for a little while. We ended up being out 9 days, I want to say, something like that. … Mya: I’m just trying to think back. I’m not 100% sure there was. I mean a lot of people were dealing with the cleanup. That took months and some people were still out of their houses for a long time. Interviewer: So did you pretty much ... I mean so you’re probably not supposed to be lifting things and things like that, but like you were helping with cleanup in your house, or did you end up going to other people’s places? Mya: No, we mostly stuck around our place. There was a few neighbours that … but it was honestly seeing like, even on the news, all the military that had to come in for it and everything. I didn’t know flood waters could get that high that fast. And then when you got back in, our area was one of the first areas that was allowed back after 9 days and just tearing stuff out of your house. The roads were just lined with everybody’s belongings. It took weeks to clean up all that mud and take all those belongings out. And honestly, I think the worst part of having to clean the houses is the fridges and the freezers that had been sitting for 9+ days with no electricity. All your dead meat. Interviewer: It was like summer weather, hot and – Mya: It was gross. We had a bunch of meat and ice cream in our freezer and you could just see it leaking out. It was gross. Yeah, I don’t wish that on anybody. It was terrible. Interviewer: I remember the truck that came by to load up fridges particularly, fridges and freezers, and like they’re all taped closed and kind of like – Mya: Yeah. I had to help my dad tape up the doors. I didn’t want to be even – Interviewer: It’s a good thing you weren’t sick. Mya: Yeah. I didn’t want to be like 50 feet around that. (Mya’s Interview, 2019)

Are there stories you have told again and again?

107

Are there any stories you have not told?

Renee: So when, well, our grad was supposed to happen three days later so mom and I were going to go get my hair re-dyed and everything. And we maybe left the house for like five minutes when we realized that there's a lot of water. So we went to turn around but we weren't allowed to go home, the fire trucks and the police had already blocked off the road to our neighbourhood. So we were able to stay at my brother's friend's house cause they live on a farm and they had a lot of room for everybody. So several families were kind of, we kind of stayed there for a little while. And then, I think, after maybe a week or so of that we went to somebody else's house to stay in the, like a trailer type thing. But … yeah. … Renee: I, well, I just tell them kind of my story. I say we couldn't, you know, we weren't able to go home and like pets were stuck there for like seven days before the rescues got them, and kind of just say that sort of stuff. I also, I joke a lot, I think, like High River had a flood, you know. I often try to make it a little lighter by joking, you know. … Renee: I think the biggest one is how we weren't able to go back and get my pets, my cats and they were in the house for at least a week – Interviewer: Oh my gosh. Renee: – before the rescuers were able to go in and get them. So I think that's kind of the biggest one for me cause my pets are really my life, so. (Renee’s Interview, 2019)

Are there stories you have told again and again? Are there any stories you have not told?

Emma: I guess it depends what they’re saying about it. Some people are like … like right after, they were like well it’s called High River. I would get defensive. Well no, that’s actually not why it’s called High River. But like whatever, you believe whatever you want. You clearly didn’t see what it did to people so there was that part of it where people were kind of like negative about it and that hurt, being as someone who grew up there. But then other people were really awesome and they

108

wanted to hear my story and how it happened, where I was, all of that kind of stuff. So there was a lot of different, the negative and the positive, about it. I don’t know. If people wanted to hear my story I would tell them. I don’t hide anything. But I had to bite my tongue a few times with some of the negative stuff. Just keep doing what you’re doing, it’s fine. Change the topic. … Emma: They always ask where I was and I was at home with my mom. My mom had just taken my brothers to school and I was on exam break during that time period so I was at home and I was actually going to go to work and then our family friend came over and we’ve been through floods before, none this bad. We’ve never had to leave. It usually just goes to the field. We were across a big field so it usually would just go to the field or the places who are right on the riverbank would only get it. So it was like, oh whatever, we’re fine. So he came to the house and he’s like, you guys should leave. My mom’s like, what? Why? We’ve done this before. And so we look outside on the deck and his field was full so my mom was like, umm yeah okay. So we went downstairs and we lifted everything like onto the beds or the couch, got it off the floor. And then we were going to leave the dogs there and then I had this wrenching gut feeling that we should not leave the dogs there so I went back in the house, got the dogs and we left. We went to the rec centre to sandbag and feed people and whatever. And then my mom went missing for a good minute because the water was coming so close to the rec centre so we were all leaving there and everybody … I hadn’t talked to some of those people in years and I’m like, have you seen my mom? She looks the exact same as she did when you knew her before. Have you seen my mom anywhere? And they’re like, no, no, no. So I’m freaking out. So I’m like okay, well what do I do? So I get my brother, we get into her vehicle. I don’t know why I had her keys. I couldn’t tell you why I had her keys. And then she passes me in a vehicle. So like, okay, well she’s fine. And then there was a huge wave that came and I really didn’t think we were going to make it. So this guy that I know really well was in a big truck. I was like, can you stay right in front of me because if any wind or anything gets through there, we’re going to get pushed. He’s like, yup.

109

So literally touching his bumper and he just moved the water. It was perfect. We got up the hill and we were fine. And I’m not, like I went to Catholic school, but I don’t practice all the time, but I was praying in that car. I was telling my brother, we’re doing the sign right now, we’re praying for everything. And then, after that, we were still sandbagging. I’m not really sure why. But we were and then we were told that we had to leave. So we left. It was crazy. It was really quiet that night. It was really weird, just sleeping and listening to everything outside. It was so quiet. … Emma: We did actually. Yeah, we did. After it was deemed green, which was no electrical underwater, then we were covered. So we had the whole construction crew, like the rebuild everything, was covered downstairs. They had offered us 100% back as we replace things or 80% of the things and you just made a list. It was like some of that stuff you can’t get back, so we just did the 80% and then … yeah it was a long list. My room, my middle brother’s room was downstairs, we had a living room, laundry room, storage room, a tool area. There was a lot of stuff downstairs and my brother plays [high level] hockey so his stuff was expensive and it was all downstairs. So, yeah, the assessor was like, how many pairs of skates, like looking at the list and my mom’s like, he’s got practice, he’s got warm-up and game skates. He’s like, oh, okay, so … they were pretty good. Yeah, they were good. The construction guys were awesome. They waited a long time before, which was nice because then we didn’t have to deal with the mould and stuff that some people built too fast and there was a lot of mould after. But we didn’t have any mould. I think they started building in like in November or December. So we just had big fans and aired it all out. Yeah, it was crazy. It was as lot but I kept thinking it was mud. Like let’s have a mud fight and everyone’s like no. This isn’t mud. Interviewer: Oh yeah. It kind of looks like mud. Emma: Yeah, we’re going to tell ourselves it’s mud. Interviewer: Flood mud. Oh, that’s good. Are there stories you have not told? Emma: No. I don’t think so. No. I mean, it’s an open book. If someone wants to know about it, I’m not going to hide it. It’s good to know that things happen in random places like High River. You don’t think that natural disasters like that happen in the middle

110

of Alberta, right? You think so, I don’t know, like places on the ocean who have those crazy hurricanes and stuff like that. So if someone wants to know what it’s like to go through that in a small town in the Prairies, I’ll tell them whatever they want to know. … Emma: Just like our own house. Because my mom had such a good disconnection, I think we carried that. Everybody else did so we just kind of followed the leader with my mom. But the moment that it really hit us and I kind of just stood there and cried for a while, my brother had a hockey jersey with our last name on it and the Bobcat put it on the dumpster and it was just hanging there. It was not mushed in. It’s like why did that one piece of clothing have to just hang there and it was like hanging out of the truck too, like the dump truck, and so it was like that was really bad and when I looked down and all my jewellery is just disgusting and gross and I just stood there and my dad came over and hugged me for a long time. But seeing your, I don’t know, your family name just destroyed like that, getting taken away, but we were strong and it was good. But, yeah, seeing all of it was really weird and surreal for sure, but yeah. (Emma’s Interview, 2019)

Are there stories you have told again and again? Are there any stories you have not told?

Zak: I’m hoping you would kind of tell the story of it because I think everyone had a bit of a different experience. You know, as we all experienced the flood but I think that we made out pretty lucky. Like we had a tiny bit of damage in my basement but really nothing compared to what a lot of people went through. So for me, like it’s a really scary thing but I mostly kind of just explain like what it was because I think a lot of times when you talk about flooding and stuff like that you see like the really heavy floods so no one really expects a flood to happen in like the prairies. So I think it’s hard sometimes. Like what I usually kind of tell people is with the magnitude of how bad it actually was. Like I show them pictures of the 7-Eleven and how it was [almost up to] the roof underwater and just …

111

So I think when you see stuff like that or you see entire cars underwater and up to the second floor of houses it kind of sinks into people but I feel like it’s a little bit difficult to kind of try to explain kind of the magnitude of it and a lot of people have asked me too like how did you not know or like you know, how did it get that bad and that’s the thing. Like I think it was technically classified as a flash flood and I mean I remember like I got a call from actually one of the friends I was talking about earlier that his house was going under and I was going no problem, like we’ll get sandbags and come help you out and then half an hour of me getting out of bed, got in my truck and like raced over to grab sandbags he phoned me. He was like don’t bother. We have to leave. It was crazy.

Zak: I would probably say I guess when I kind of realized how bad things were because I mean like I said, I grew up there so I was used to the flooding and if anything it was almost like a nice thing because we really got the day off of school to go help out [unintelligible 00:19:02]. But I do specifically remember we were in line at the rec centre getting sandbags and they came – well, the town like official came – or town workers came and said to everyone time to leave. So I remember pulling out of the rec parking lot and then heading east kind of up the hill like towards where the fire station is and Heritage Park’s on your right-hand side. Interviewer: Yeah. Zak: I remember driving up there with all my friends like in the backseat and stuff and I remember looking in my rear-view mirror and just seeing like kind of just this like torrent of water kind of rush over the road and hit one of the like ATCO trailers and we’d been there like not even, you know, five, ten minutes ago and I didn’t even notice it. I didn’t see it. So I don’t know how fast it broke over the bank or [unintelligible 00:19:56] but I remember that one because once I looked and then I saw that specific image. Sometimes I remember looking in my rear-view, yeah, and just thinking like oh shit, this really is bad. And then everything kind of went quiet. Like all of us kind of saw it and went quiet and I think that sort of sunk into a lot of us. So I dropped everyone off at home and then I kind of – you know, there was [unintelligible 00:20:22] gave up on helping because I think I realized that I should

112

probably go with my own family. And we lived in [unintelligible 00:20:30] kind of the golf course area. So you have to cross the bridge and I knew the bridge would be shut down but I didn’t know how long it would be till they shut down the other bridges to get to that side and have to go all the way up to Aldersyde. So I remember just kind of racing home and there was no phone signal so that was another kind of crazy thing. You didn’t really know where anyone was. Yes, I remember half the guys who came home saying like that we were there but it was like everyone kind of had a realization that like I think things are going, you know, south here and then shortly after that [unintelligible 00:21:07] brought us like an evacuation notice. … Zak: I don’t know if I would – I’m sure I’ve probably said this to someone but one that I don’t like really think about a lot is where we live, we kind of live it’s a little bit up on a hill and I remember I have two brothers and we kind of started walking down. Like we walked around our block and then it kind of goes down a bit of a hill and I remember getting to the bottom and just seeing water starting to rise up. So then when the police [unintelligible 00:23:55] to evacuate, I went into my room. It’s kind of like a weird feeling because it’s like you were packing your bag and you’re just kind of grabbing everything, right, that you can think of that you might need but it was like a weird thought like – like not an out of body but almost – you felt kind of like numb in a weird way because you were kind of just like … I remember looking at stuff that really didn’t matter but thinking like do I need to take it in the car and I’m like I’ll be okay, but then also thinking like none of this might be here when I get back. Like when you should have been in a fast mode but I just remember feeling kind of like dazed and out of it. Like my brain had kind of just shut off from all of it. It was weird. Interviewer: Yeah. That’s a good description of it. It’s really – Zak: You think you’re going to react – yeah. You think you’re going to react better in an emergency but at one point it was kind of just like I almost needed someone telling me to move and things. I kind of just stood there dumbly like looking around at things. (Zak’s Interview, 2019)

113

Are there stories you have told again and again? Are there any stories you have not told?

Dianne: Yes, but … So, my home in [a community near High River] across the street during the flood was an evacuation centre, so there were a ton of people staying there and I had, when I was, when the, the first sight of the flood I was at Diploma Prep with a bunch of friends and we went back into [unintelligible 00:07:52] even though we knew we weren’t supposed to, we just wanted to see, just being little troublemakers … So, we saw it … it was pretty surreal to go back when there was no one there and it was dark in there, it wasn’t quite like as flat, like it wasn’t this max floodedness, but it was still really crazy to see. And then they all ended up having to stay at my parents’ house, because the road to [another neighbouring town] was closed and cell service was down, that was something, that was, I forgot about. I didn’t know cell service and like not being able to reach anyone that day, it was an awful feeling. Yeah … Yeah. Dianne: I’m not sure, I didn’t, we went into the south east side, because that’s where my car actually was and I was like, oh my car I can get it … So yeah, we did, like we saw people that, I saw someone that looked like they were stranded, but I don’t know if it was just my mind playing a trick on me, because it was pretty dark. But we didn’t, like I told my parents, but we didn’t do anything about it, so. Yeah, no rescues that we saw. Interviewer: Yeah. Did you get your car? Dianne: I did, yeah. Interviewer: Okay. Dianne: My parents were unhappy with me. Interviewer: Yeah, the car’s not worth your life. Dianne: Yeah, yes … Dianne: - When asked about the flood, what do you say? I feel like the High River flood isn’t well-known compared to like Calgary, everyone always talks about Calgary and that like just irritates me. Like people died in High River like everyone’s houses were ruined and it’s just so like, my summer was ruined, my parents lost

114 their businesses and a ton of money … like we thought grad was going to be cancelled, we didn’t have like that fun final summer to like party and say good bye. I obviously lost my job since the town was shut down, so I wasn’t able to save any money for university … Well, and like obviously going in and literally cleaning out my [partner] at the time’s house, my aunts and uncles houses, just like their neighbours’ houses … is, yeah. That’s what I mostly, I mostly talk about how it pisses me off that the Calgary flood, everyone thinks the Calgary flood was so bad and the High River, yeah. Yeah, so that’s what I probably talk about the most. And then … the stories that I never tell, it’s like about the intimacy of cleaning out someone’s … baby photos and like their, everything, their belongings and then like holding … my [partner] at the time’s mom while she bawled and my aunt while she bawled and we’re like cleaning out their stuff and the smell, oh, the smell of those basements and the chaffing from my rubber boots on, like my whole legs down were totally chaffed from just days of carrying crap out of basements … And then, so I worked for … Parks for the Town of High River and we cleaned out silt … and worked, oh God, from the year after the flood up until two summers ago and we were cleaning out silt every year, which was pretty crazy. And my dad just flipped a house in High River and there was, like this past summer and there was silt that we found from six years ago, which is, yeah. And then this one’s kind of funny, the, when P&H reopened I phoned my friends and we just like celebrated, because it was, yeah, it was just like our place to go to for lunch and then it was just like High River’s back to normal, because P&H is open … And then at the evacuation centre … Red Cross was there and I don’t know if you know it. So, my mom ran Red Cross, or no, she ran the evacuation centre in [a community near High River] essentially, and Red Cross wouldn’t use the same bathrooms that the people staying there were using, they asked to use a different bathroom. So, I will never donate to Red Cross. And the people that would donate things, but wouldn't actually hand it over until a news crew was there to film it was truly appalling. And then the Hutterites were so amazing, they donated so much food

115

and then it got shut down, they weren’t allowed to do it anymore. But yeah, they were so, they, like for those first few days, they were the only reason those people ate, were the Hutterites. And like my mom is like good friends with them now and they like give her pies whenever she goes out there – Interviewer: Oh, that’s so nice. Dianne: Yeah, it’s pretty cute. Yeah, so I hate Red Cross, to sum that up. And the cell service, coming back to that one, it was really awful to be … I was sand bagging with my [partner] … we didn't know that it was for nothing at the time, but – Interviewer: No. Dianne: Yeah, and then. So, we’re sand bagging and then we get told we have to leave, so we’re driving by the [Rec Plex 00:15:31] and there’s like water up, like on the car, which was crazy and like trying to phone, nothing was going through, I had no idea where my parents were. And it wasn’t like an emergency at that point, but it was still … Interviewer: Scary. Dianne: - scary, super scary, yeah. … Interviewer: Were they, were the Red Cross people explicit as to why they wanted another bathroom? Or is it just the undertone of racism or classism or? Dianne: I think it was just those, I believe, this is just second-hand from my mom, but I believe they said that they didn’t want to use the same bathroom as those people. So … yes. Interviewer: Yeah. And a lot of people in the shelter were like the immigrant families – Dianne: Yes. Interviewer: - that live in High River. Dianne: Yes. Sleeping on cots and … Interviewer: Making do – Dianne: Yeah. Interviewer: - in the worst of times – Dianne: Yeah. Interviewer: Yeah.

116

Dianne: Yeah. Yeah. So, that was like, yeah, harsh. Yeah, I wrote Red Cross piece of shit for my notes. Yeah, that was, and just yeah, the people that wouldn’t give stuff over until a news crew showed up … yeah, people suck … Any other questions? … Dianne: Yeah. And then I remember there were, I think there were like, it almost seemed like tour busses were going through High River, like at, when we were cleaning up everything. I’m sure, I think they were maybe volunteers or I don’t know, it was just very strange to just see people – Interviewer: On busses. Dianne: Yeah, going by. And I remember, so while they were still evacuated there were busses waiting outside the arena to take people to see their houses I think. Interviewer: Yeah, they did that for the first while just to see like what your neighbourhood looked like and you could – Dianne: Yeah. Interviewer: - you couldn’t get off, but you could, I don’t know if you could see the door colour posting, like what your, if your house was red or orange or – Dianne: Right, right yeah. … Dianne: Well, there’s another thing, the only news station that showed High River was CBC, I don’t know if you noticed that … But yes, CTV and Global were all about the Calgary flood and then CBC was where we had to watch … for a snippet of High River. (Dianne’s Interview, 2019)

Are there stories you have told again and again? Are there any stories you have not told?

Tia: Yes, I lived in High River. Yes, I know the name is High River. [Laughs] It’s like the same thing. People are like, why would you move somewhere that’s called High River? Well actually I didn’t, my parents moved there, but … No, that’s kind of like joking. People ask if my family was affected and it’s like usually, like we lived in a [specific type of house] so my dad had two or three feet in the garage, and then like the basement was flooded. That’s usually kind of the extent people ask, is like if I was flooded, and then my [school] friends because it’s a flood plain and they made

117

fun of it. I mean like it is kind of funny in the sense that like people build – like even downtown [unintelligible 00:06:02] the people built it like where they built it, but given what we know it makes sense because people wanted the water and they didn’t really realize 100-year floods and … Interviewer: Yeah. Tia: Yeah, I mean the [unintelligible 00:06:16] were like a huge like [unintelligible 00:06:18] flood plain. Yeah, now everybody is like, obviously it’s a flood plain but way back when people discovered it and built there they didn’t know so … … Tia: Probably just like where I was, so I was in the doctor’s office, the one across from [the local restaurant], because I was getting a physical for [my trip abroad] done, which was really funny. So I was downtown and the people were like, oh it’s flooding, and then it was kind of normal that it was flooding, but then people were like, oh actually we’re being evacuated, like you have to go home. So then I remember driving away from the doctor’s office and like the water was coming up, and then it was like trying … I was in my mom’s car so I really didn’t want it to flood so I was trying to like weave my way through traffic to get back. So my parents lived in [that neighbourhood], or whatever that area by the lakes are, you know, that spot. So that’s where I was during the flood. That one I’ve told often. Interviewer: Did you get to your house? Tia: Yeah, I got to my house, and then when it was flooding my [partner] at the time and I, we were driving around helping people sandbag, so I’ve told that one a bit. We put some sandbags in front of my parents’ garage thinking it would be a noble effort and it didn’t [laughs] [unintelligible 00:07:50] too much. I also worked for the town at the time, like I was a [named position] and so like they called us in to help make sandbags, so I remember doing that. And that day, or like previous days – maybe it was the previous day, I don’t remember but I remember like somewhere in there I was helping sandbag and then I was at the doctor and then … Interviewer: We thought it was awesome driving past like the Rec Centre and seeing high school students filling sandbags. Tia: Yeah, I was in that group.

118

Interviewer: Not necessarily that flood morning because in previous flood mornings too people, like high school students would be out there. Tia: Yeah, doing it. Actually, so it was at the Rec Centre and then there’s like that little – like over by the fitness factory there’s that little creek that runs between them. And then I remember seeing the water flooding over that, and it was like coming to the Rec Centre where we were at, and we were like evacuating the sandbag area at that point. Yeah, I do remember that actually and I haven’t thought on that in a while. But yeah, like the water was like flooding over and we’re like, we should probably go. Yeah, there were some really random things. And so my [partner] at the time, he had like a truck, just very High River, and so in his truck we could like drive through the water, so we were driving around like helping people like sandbag, and we could like … Yeah, like kind of over by the water tower and in that area … Because I remember like we went there and helped move some stuff. What else? Yeah, those are kind of the ones that I think I’ve told often. There’s a house behind the high school in the hills that’s really big and fancy – you might know the house I’m talking about. Interviewer: Is it just kind of down …? Tia: Yeah, and it’s beautiful. Do you know like the [owners]? I don’t know. Interviewer: I don’t know. I haven’t lived in High River long enough to know. I only moved there in 2010. Tia: But it’s like their cousin to something, but I remember we went to that house and for some reason we went up on that hill and then the people from that house were like … There was two trucks and then like the water was flooding around that house, like that house was like a little hill and then the water was like on either side of it, because if you remember like it went through Montrose and then that way. And there was like people on a truck, backed up, and then there was another truck on the other side of this like water, and people were jumping from one truck to the other, and there was like kids and stuff and it was really bad. And I remember while were there – but then this is really random. So then the one truck when it finally came up, they had like a baby deer in it, like they saved a baby deer.

119

Interviewer: That must have been … Oh my gosh. Tia: Yeah, so that was interesting. But that was really random. I don’t remember why we were there, for some reason we were there. I think it’s because of my [partner]’s truck people were like, you have a truck can you come help. So then we were like running around playing like first responders and like … [laughs] Interviewer: Hopefully not putting yourself in danger. Tia: No, I don’t think too much. My [partner] was always selfless and like, I’ll help you, like one of those personalities, so I think that he just loved it. He was running around. So we were just like giving out sandbags. It was fun. Well, fun to help people but … I think those are kind of what I tell often, I guess. … Tia: Probably cleaning houses. Like I remember it was like a big deal when your friend would get back into their house because we’d just go help them. It would be like, oh, so and so is in today, are we going to go and [unintelligible 00:47:21] their basement? What else did we do? So my friends lived out of town, like Jamie, she had a few fires so we had a few fires and that was nice. Her parents are awesome about like hosting stuff. I think there was like a lot of parties. Actually, no, now I remember it was parties because everybody’s basement was gutted so all the parents – like even my parents, they never let me have parties but they’re like yeah, you can have a party now – my going away party because it’s gutted so there’s nothing to wreck. Interviewer: Some people went down to people’s basements that were gutted to have parties? Tia: Yeah, I remember having parties in those basements. Because like you could have like a beer pong table and it’s like if the beer spills, whatever, because there’s just like dehumidifiers and stuff. Interviewer: Oh that’s so funny, now I remember that yeah. Tia: Like that wasn’t like every single night, but I remember going to a few parties in just empty basements. Interviewer: Oh my goodness. Tia: Yeah, that’s so funny because there wasn’t really any parks or anything, right, and you couldn’t ride your bike. Yeah, that’s so funny, and like once – and I think

120

working for the town I was really busy because I remember like once we were allowed back in like we would like pressure wash stuff. Like you’d be like oh, you’re just going to pressure wash your fence and pressure wash somebody’s lawn, and like weird stuff like that, because we had to pressure wash everything I think, and we had to get the mud off. …

Tia: What have I not told? Well, very high school of us. After we were running around helping people, then we went to his evacuated house and like snuggled. And then we decided that we should go, and then my mom called me and then that’s when [our neighbourhood] was being evacuated so that was very high school ‘romancey’ – anyway. Interviewer: [Laughter] Tia: No, it was fun, abandoned town. (Tia’s Interview, 2019)

Generative Dialogue

Thunder Being the Messenger: The participants have been very generous with their stories.

Buffalo the Gifted: How will you use and not waste their gifts?

There is so much information packed into these stories—the details are layered and nuanced.

With so many intriguing threads, I need to approach this theme as ripe for critical analysis. I ask

the holistic teachers’ support in interrogating the moments that felt surreal to the participants.

Eagle: There is a sense of awe for the sheer force of nature and the power of water. The experience of filling sandbags was familiar to the youth, as it was something they did every spring—just not like this. Both Zak and Dianne describe the silence, hauntingly.

Bear the Historian: There are so many emotions that can be experienced in those silences— wonderment, fear, panic, concern, anxiety, trepidation, calm, excitement, nervousness, and more.

The stories reveal the needs of the youth in these moments.

121

Zak’s response was vulnerable and honest, “You think you’re going to react better in an

emergency but at one point it was kind of just like I almost needed someone telling me to move

and things. I kind of just stood there dumbly like looking around at things.” (Interview, 2019).

Bear the Historian: He might have been in shock. Ava too. She described getting “Titanic vibes” as she looked out at the parking lot and “saw a car just drifting, slowly, slowly drifting”

(Interview, 2019). There is no other frame of reference for these moments, other than the fantastical images captured in movies. What do youth need when witnessing disaster?

Safety?

Buffalo the Gifted: We heard it in Emma’s story as she described the hockey jersey hanging out of the dump truck and her jewellery covered in flood mud, when she said, “I just stood there and my dad came over and hugged me for a long time” (Interview, 2019). Sometimes that strong physical presence is what is needed for surviving the toughest moments—to have those supports just be there.

The presence of supports extends to our more-than-human relations. Many of the youth talked

about not wanting to leave their pets behind, or having to leave their pets behind and then

worrying about them until they were rescued.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: Emma relied on her faith/spiritual connection, as she described praying with her brother as they drove through the water to safety. Spiritual connections can be amplified in a time of crisis.

She remembered those teachings—to pray—in her time of need.

Eagle: Priorities come into sharper focus during a disaster. The youth made choices to be with friends and family. Many of their actions were self-less: going back to or staying at work, helping with sand bags, looking after siblings, and trying to help parents and other community

122 members. They immediately made connections with their web of relations (Little Bear, 2000).

Having meaningful responsibilities provides a sense of purpose and distraction during an otherwise unsettling time.

Meaning-Making

Youth are resilient during a disaster. They jump into action to help others and make the most of unfamiliar events. Sometimes, they still need guidance, such as reminders: not to go back for their cars, or to evacuate when they are told to leave. Often, they need the presence and support of loved ones around them, including: family, friends, partners, and pets. They may need: purposeful work, silence, impromptu adventures, clandestine moments; basement or bonfire parties, time with friends, hugs, space, normalcy, outlets for emotions and energy, gentle humour, understanding, freedom, and boundaries. We cannot know what the youth will need unless we listen to them, holistically—not everything they tell us is said in words. Sometimes they express needs through their actions, silences, and/or emotions. We can learn a lot by creating space for them to share their stories.

Youths’ Experiences Post-Disaster

Storied Métissage

What has your life been like since the flood?

Calan: Chaotic. It's gone from, everything from moving back in with my parents cause they lived out of town from the flood, I was living in High River with my partner at the time. And then after the flood happened I had to move back in with my parents after having left two years prior. Interviewer: Wow. Calan: So that was interesting. And then back to High River for a while, I moved to [the city], the economy was terrible, I couldn't find a job, I was struggling to pay rent.

123

All the unemployment stuff, struggling to make it on my own and slowly been building and now I'm in post-secondary, so that's always nice. … Calan: Yeah, there is, there were a couple times, like after we came from [a neighbouring rural community], I ended up going to – my grandparents live in [a neighbouring rural community] so I ended up being able to go to their house. It got uncomfortable with the other couple that we were with that was there, with past history with them. So I was like, I was lucky enough to be able to go to my grandparents but I, we ended up making the decision to go to my mom's house in [the neighbouring community]. And he was like, "I didn't even think of that, she lives out of town." And [the neighbouring community] also happened to be one of the, I don’t want to say refugee, but it was one of the camps. Interviewer: Evacuation sites, yeah. Calan: So, our rec centre was a camp, I live pretty much right across the street from the rec centre so it was crazy to see all the people there. And there was just so much tension between everyone. I have two really good friends that live in, well, three really good friends in [the neighbouring community], but two of them were hosting families. So one house had the parents and the other one had the kids in it which was an interesting situation. So one house was like [unintelligible 00:16:40], the other one was chaos, everyone's playing video games and board games and talking politics cause that's what my friends do cause they're weird. Interviewer: You seem to be drawn to the people in politics. Calan: Yes, all my friends are very smart and they always called me the pretty one, I was like okay, sure, I'm sorry I don’t know how to be a biochemist. Interviewer: Says the girl who's studying [a subject involving mathematics] Calan: Yeah, it's weird, cause my best friend's in English and [specific area of focus] major and she comes to me for like anything to do with [subjects relating to mathematics], she's like, "Please help me I have no clue what I'm doing." And anytime I'm writing a paper for school I'll send it to her, I'm like, "Can you read over this please, tell me if I should word anything differently?" But, yeah, so it's just the different smarts of the people.

124

But there was a lot of tension cause I would leave my [partner] home with my mom, my mom and my [partner] didn't really get along very well. So he, we just stayed in my room like the whole time, we just lived there. After we were actually allowed to go back to our house on my birthday, so and our house was green-carded which meant that it was safe to go back into. I was like sweet, we can come back, we can live in the house, like it's going to be great. And he, being part of health safety, working in a kitchen was like, "No, we're, like the water's touched the base of this cause – " we talked to our landlord he said that he didn't really, that because the water didn't get in the house he didn't have to do anything. I'm assuming that also had to do with like insurance not covering very much for damage-wise and stuff. So, we ended up leaving, we were in my dinky little bedroom from when I was a pre-teen with [named items from my youth], a cat, my mom had [a specified number of] other cats and our cat was very territorial, so that was fun. And my mom was getting annoyed cause I never came out of my room. And my friends were getting annoyed cause I never came over to see them cause my [partner] would get annoyed if I left, cause then I was leaving him and my mom in the same house together and it was just a nuisance. And we both worked in High River so once we got the clear to go back to work he was, we had to drive back and forth from [the neighbouring community] to High River and we were with my mom for like six months. It was a nightmare just because of like, I was just the middle man between the two of them because they didn't talk very much. And so it was annoying. But like, I don’t know, I avoid that one because it's just chaos. So I was just like, eh. Interviewer: That's, yeah. That was a tough position you were in for a long time, six months living like that would be very hard. Calan: For the first couple months, I think we got the all clear to go back to High River we did like a quick search on like Kijiji and stuff and, to see if any houses were for rent like if anybody was putting them back. And there might have been a few and they were either out of budget or something or the other, they weren't like a good fit for us. And it, so we gave it a couple months. It was, I went back to school, it was my

125

graduation year or, no, I had graduated. I missed grad, right, yes, so that was my graduation year, we had to like, we did our mock grad kind of thing in August. And then I went back to school for upgrading cause I wanted to get in, I decided then that I wanted to get in to university. And upgrading English was terrible so I wasn't able to get in to university, so. And, yeah, so it was just like I was going to school, I was working, my [partner] was working, [neighbouring community] is a hamlet, it's a very small town so we don't get our roads done very well and there was more than a few times that the truck went off the road because I'm assuming we didn't have winter tires, I don't know. So, but it, there was like just a lot of drama, a lot of fighting, my mom getting annoyed with my [partner] but arguing to me about it. My [partner] just being an angry person about everything, so a lot of tension (Calan’s Interview, 2019)

What was your life like after the flood?

Emily: I mean [the flood] was quite tragic. My family is lucky that we don’t live right in High River so we weren’t affected, but like my great uncle was and he was- didn’t really have anywhere to live so he was on our couch for weeks. I don’t remember how long I think it might’ve been about a couple of months. And yeah, I don’t know, it’s just you always hear about those kinds of things on the news and then it happens here, and like you see all of your friends and you have to throw away all their belongings and it is horrible. You never think that’s going to happen to you or people you know. Generally negative stuff [laughs], pretty sad stuff. Interviewer: Did you find that it affected a lot of your friends, people in your social circle? Emily: Yeah, it affected I think all of my friends. Like my little, core group of friends from high school, I’m pretty sure all of them had some type of damage, some more than others were like up in – what is it? – [named neighborhood], uptown where they didn’t ever expect to have water and they got just destroyed by it. Forced a lot of people to do like renos, basically; throw away everything. Interviewer: That’s for sure.

126

Emily: Yeah, especially I think most people when they have like their like family photos and everything they store it in a bin, somewhere downstairs to keep it out of the way, and then all of that’s just gone. Interviewer: Yeah, for sure. That’s – Emily: Yeah, I remember I got – Like the Christmas following that I managed to get two like little [named restaurant] Christmas decorations, like just the little ball for like a tree, and I gave one to my friend’s mom and she cried because all of her like kids’ homemade ones had to be thrown out, so I gave her this silly [named restaurant] one and she cried because all of her things were gone, I was like: Oh, that’s horrible. Interviewer: Yeah, no, definitely. I can see that being [unintelligible 00:05:35] You don’t know how affected people are until … Emily: Yeah, so it’s – it’s just a sad thing. (Emily’s Interview, 2019)

What was your life like after the flood?

Rhianna: At the time, my [partner] lived in [a neighbouring community] so I stayed at his place. My mom and brother went to a friend’s place outside of [the neighbouring community] and my dad stayed at work. He worked at [named business] at the time. So he stayed there because they had bunkhouses and stuff. And my middle brother actually, we couldn’t get a hold of him for hours and hours and hours, like hours. We were all sitting at our friend’s place out of town and none of the phones were working. There was nothing working. So it was so scary and then there was rumour that there was a car of teenagers that drowned and it was just absolutely crazy. There was no car that was … nobody drowned. That was just a rumour. And then all of a sudden, my mom was on the phone to the police just to let them know and we get a phone call from him and he’s like, these guys picked me up. I’m at so-and-so’s house. I’m fine, everything’s good. Yeah, it was really scary. But my mom didn’t cry. She just did what she had to do. It was crazy. I don’t know how she does this. And then during the whole flood, they took him … he has really bad asthma and stuff so my mom didn’t really want him dealing with the sewer and everything. So they took him to [a city in the U.S.] and they did stuff with him, they bought him clothes. They just kind of took care of him so that my mom had one less person to worry about and then we just cleaned it out and got home. It was red.

127

I guess my mom cried once. Someone from the town called her to say that our house was deemed red, so super unsafe, and we were at [store] in Calgary getting cleaning supplies and she just cried. And then she was like, well we’re still going to buy this stuff, we’re still going to go, we’re going to see what it is. We’re going. So the one wall had just come down but it wasn’t a bearing wall so they had thought it was a bearing wall holding up the house. So it was like, well it’s not so we’re just going to go in and clean it anyways and rebuild the wall. Rhianna: – kind of … no it used to be a garage underneath the house. So that wall wasn’t bearing anyways and it came in. It looked like it could have been a bearing wall but it wasn’t so we didn’t have any insurance or anything to help us clean and if someone got hurt during that, then they weren’t covered or anything. So literally, the 4 of us did so much. There was a lot of friends and family friends and stuff that – Interviewer: And your one brother and – Rhianna: – came – Interviewer: – your mom and your dad. Rhianna: Yeah. Interviewer: Dad or … Rhianna: Yeah, my actual dad, yeah. There was a lot of people who still came in the house and they were like, screw it, we’re helping you. What are we going to do, stand here and watch? So, yeah, when we got in, there was a foot of sewer still in the basement but we had 5 feet because you could see the line and then it went back down. But the guy from the insurance company came at first to assess everything and he was so stupid. He comes with a little kit to see if it’s sewer or river water because a lot of people with river water didn’t get covered and so he comes in all like oh here we go and it was obviously sewer because it went up and came back down. So he’s like, okay, guess I don’t need this. And we’re like, yeah, we could have told you that. So yeah and then we just did what we had to do. (Rhianna’s Interview, 2019)

What has your life been like since the flood?

Ella: Yeah. So when people ask me about the flood I immediately think of my mom because it hit her the worse. So they live around [named] Lake. Not the houses

128

around the lake but right across. So it like turned into [named] ocean, right [laughs]. So we – my [sibling] and I, our rooms were in the basement so – and we got six feet. So mom was just so sad for us that so like whenever someone asks of the flood I like almost like roll my eyes and say “Oh, you should ask my mom” because now she still I think struggles with it, the thought of it and it’s not – like I feel for her and I feel bad but it’s every – like everyone else in our family I think has moved on so to speak. So it’s kind of like you know, we’re good, we’re fine, we got it all fixed up, you know. So yeah, it was – I think of my mom whenever I think of the flood just because like it hurt her so bad that we lost everything. Luckily [my sibling] was in university. I don’t remember what year but … So [they were] living in residence there in [a named city in Alberta] and then we had like a formal living room just when you open the front door off to the side and I had my bed in there and I used like the couch as a closet and then I think it was February the following year that my room was finished enough that I could go back downstairs [laughs]. So yeah, it was – when did the flood happen? The 20 … Twenty-something. Twenty … … Ella: As far as when we got home like it was like a frigging war zone. It was crazy. Like we – my parents were actually in I think [a named province in Canada] or something at the time when we were allowed to go back in. My dad was at a conference and … So I just went in and I’m pretty like stoic when it comes to things. My [sibling] like kind of lost it, but I was like I want to go downstairs and see. Our house was – it was like orange, code orange. What was it? Red, orange, yellow, green. So I think we were orange, so. And it was mostly because of how much water we got. But yeah, I went – I put a mask on and went down there and it was like holy shit. Like I was just trying to picture what it was like when the water was in there. Like my bed was lifted and turned and it was – yeah it was crazy. But yeah, once my parents got home we kind of gutted it right away and yeah, another story. Our neighbours to – our one neighbours, they – they’re assholes. Like they were – they had – they were mad because they lost like a bunch of dolls or something in

129

the basement which fine, everyone has sentimental value to everything but we were – like we’re hugging all our – like my mom’s bringing all our childhood stuff – like we lost a lot of photo albums – like everything out on there and then he had – he was sitting there and he had – they had already got stuff out because I don’t think they had a lot in there and he was like hosing off his driveway and I wasn’t home but my mom was home and she was upstairs and all of a sudden she heard like hello and this guy came into our house and was bitching because one of the like the – like the bulldozers, the little … Interviewer: Like a bobcat or …? Ella: A bobcat, that’s what it was, had done a loop on his lawn to come – like to like move trash out and he was mad because he put marks on his driveway and my mom was like – she’s pretty chill too. She didn’t say anything but her inside voice was like are you frigging kidding me? Like I’m just hauling all my [children’s] things out and you’re worried about some tracks on your driveway like [laughs]. Yeah, that was – Interviewer: I was like that too, trying to bite my tongue, yeah. Ella: Right. Interviewer: For people that just, yeah, had no clue. Like how could you be so insensitive? Ella: Yeah. I totally was like you’re lucky I wasn’t there, Mom, because I probably would have lost it. Like what a dick [laughs]. Like come on. Interviewer: That’s horrible for your mom. Ella: Yeah, yeah. She was definitely hit the worst like as far as her feelings go. I mean I was – I kind of looked at it as it was a good way to get rid of stuff we didn’t need [laughs]. I mean, of course, it was sad to – you know, you go through like life after, right, and you’re thinking right, that was in the flood, you know, like looking for things. And to this day we have – we had a jar of buttons in the basement and to this day we still have buttons popping up all over our front lawn. Interviewer: Wow. That’s – Ella: Yeah. So mom keeps all of them. Interviewer: – a little bit like a haunting reminder [laughs] – Ella: I know, yeah.

130

Interviewer: – but in kind of a sweet way [laughs]. Ella: Yeah. No, mom always – she’ll find – when she’s mowing the lawn she’ll find these because we had just a pile of buttons because we like to do crafts so yeah. Yeah, it’s pretty cool – Interviewer: Pretty cool. Ella: – when that happens. Yeah, I thought so too. Mom actually is okay with it too surprisingly [laughs]. Yeah, it doesn’t remind her too much, so yeah. Interviewer: Good things coming back. Ella: Yeah, yeah. I think she’s getting better but she – yeah, it’s I think flood I think mom like immediately like yeah [laughs]. … Ella: Yeah. I think like – I wonder if there’s kids that are kind of like my mom like that went through it like my mom like that took it really hard. Like I feel like my mom needs to talk to someone about it or should have talked to someone about it whether it be like a counsellor or you know because when she just – when she talks to us about it she gets sad and she kind of gets mad, right, and we just sit there and look at her. So when I think – like I’m sure there must have been kids that felt the same way like just so distraught like my [sibling] even. You know, just having … Like making it maybe there’s – like making it known that there’s somewhere they can go to talk to or even like an AA meeting for flood victims you know what I mean like just to – Interviewer: Yeah, support group. Ella: Yeah, that’s … [laughs]. Not that I’ve ever been to one. Yeah, just that I feel like that would have been – because I would have gone to that. Maybe there was one I didn’t know about but you know, to share stories and not like have a pity party like my story’s worse than yours but like you know, something like that. Interviewer: There’s no survivor Olympics but yeah. Ella: Yeah, because sometimes just talking to – like I had felt like I couldn’t talk to my mom about it even if I was feeling sad about missing something or whatever because I didn’t want to make her sad and you know. Like I feel like –

131

Interviewer: Protecting her and … Ella: Yeah. And I wonder if other kids had the same situation like they – or maybe they all cried together. You know, like who knows. But sometimes parents just aren’t – like can’t be the ones to talk to like for fear of – for me anyways fear of making them upset. Even my dad, like he’s very stoic as well but I know that it made him sad too. So yeah, I think … Interviewer: Would something like that work for people that had like – have like obviously used – were still here but one year away? Like would something have – like how could that be a support for anyone that was like out of town say after? Ella: Oh, I see. Well, even … So my two friends lived out of town like where I stayed and I almost wonder if it was just as emotionally draining for them, you know, hosting families that are devastated that they lost their stuff. Like I’m sure it took an emotional toll on them. Like Sandy’s mom Marge was – you know, you could tell she was sad like for me. Like she was really sad for me and you know, you don’t want to be a burden but like you know, I feel like that could also maybe help them too, yeah. Interviewer: And I think like on a side note, not necessarily relating to these questions but I think there are still like outlets. Like I know that there were like psychologists and counsellors and things that had set up in town and offered services here for a long time but I think like after about three years they started to close and move and things. Ella: Yeah. Interviewer: But like if she were to speak to – like if your mom spoke to her family doctor or called Health Link or whatever they would connect her with somebody to talk to if you – not that it’s the easiest conversation to have but sometimes like if people need that like yeah, talking to like professionals sometimes it can like lift that cloud or that weight or that sadness, right, and help them find even strategies to like – Ella: Work through it, yeah. See, and I didn’t know they had all that stuff set up in High River. Like I wonder if it – I don’t know if it was advertised or we missed it or what but … Interviewer: And the thing is there was so much going on and there’s so much was closed and so like things that like –

132

Ella: You worry about house – your own house and things like that, yeah. … Ella: I don’t think so. I don’t know. I haven’t talked to any really – I haven’t talked to like other friends that were affected, actually affected by the flood. I really didn’t really talk to them about it. We just never really, you know, had an in-depth conversation about it. Interviewer: What kinds of things did you talk about like when you got together? Ella: Just you know, I got six feet. How much did you get? You know, like I wasn’t – I don’t know how other people looked at it. Like obviously it was terrible and I look at it as a bad thing but I also like didn’t dwell on it like probably also because like I was a child. Like I didn’t have the stress that my parents had, right? But as far as other kids go like I don’t know if they felt the same way. Like were they just as like whatever as I was or were they like my [sibling] when they’re like bawling their face off? You know, I don’t know. Interviewer: That’s fair. That’s fair. Ella: Yeah. Just yeah, we never really – no one ever talked about it, yeah. Interviewer: Makes sense. Yeah, it makes sense because it – like it feels like it can be like so much of the conversation. Ella: Yes. Interviewer: Like when you go places people ask and – Ella: Yeah. Interviewer: – anybody who knows asks and then sometimes it’s like nice to like not talk about it especially now. I mean we’re so far removed but for like – it felt like the longest time that was like – Ella: The flood, yeah. I was at a bar once in [a named community in Alberta] [laughs], and this one guy came up to me and asked where I was from and I said High River and he’s like “Ooh, flood victim” and walked away and I was like holy shit, really [laughs]. Yeah, like just I’m in [the named community in Alberta] [laughs]. Interviewer: Wow. Ella: Funny things. Like I know it’s like okay [laughs].

133

Interviewer: You know, when people ask how long have you lived there sometimes I’m like not long. It’s just an easier answer but … [laughs]. Ella: Yeah. So you were in the flood, yeah. Yeah, and I feel like they still get that a lot like yeah. (Ella’s Interview, 2019)

What was your life like after the flood?

Julie: Well when I was in my final year, I was pregnant so I went through the flood pregnant and then I graduated, basically had my baby. Interviewer: Congratulations. Julie: Thank you. Stayed at home and then I came back to school in January to do what I wanted to do. Interviewer: College? Julie: Yeah. Interviewer: And so you have your baby somewhere? Child care? Julie: Yeah, I’ve got [a number] of them now. They’re all in daycare. … Interviewer: Can I ask how far along you were in your pregnancy? Julie: I was 5 months, 4 months on the day of the flood and then 6 months when grad came along. Interviewer: Wow. Julie: Yeah. Interviewer: So were you back in when you had your baby? I’m just asking questions that I’m – curious – Julie: Yeah, we were back in. My room was in the basement so I lost a lot of my stuff personally but I mean there was other kids and stuff that lost a lot more than I did so I wasn’t too terribly worried about it. So for a lot of the time, from the time we were let back in to the time my baby was born, I spent a lot of time sleeping on the couch in the living room. So that was hard. Interviewer: No kidding. Not the most comfortable time for sleeping anyway but then to be on the couch [unintelligible 00:09:10]. Julie: I think I moved back downstairs just after [the baby] was born. (Julie’s Interview, 2019)

134

Generative Dialogue

The participants’ stories show so much humility and strength.

Thunder Being the Messenger: They were empathetic of their parents’, family members’, and friends’ experiences. As Ella said, “I didn’t have the stress that my parents had.”

Though maybe they carried twice the stress and worry—their own and their loved ones’.

Bear the Historian: The youth showed boundless compassion for the losses people were going through around them, holding them—literally and figuratively—as they cried over lost baby pictures, photo albums, Christmas decorations, and other sentimental items.

I worry about the emotional needs of the youth, especially when they felt that they “couldn’t”

talk to their parents, like when Ella said, “I had felt like I couldn’t talk to my mom about it even if I was feeling sad about missing something or whatever because I didn’t want to make her sad.”

The youth did not want to burden their parents in an already difficult time.

Buffalo the Gifted: The stories they shared really illuminate the ways in which the youth tried to create safety for their parents. Like the youth in Shepard et al.’s (2017)’s study, the youth were likely trying to protect their overwhelmed parents by not expressing their own worries and fears.

Bear the Historian: We might need to consider Norris et al. (2002a)’s survey of disaster literature, which indicated that parents’ levels of distress correlated with their children’s levels of distress post-disaster. Norris et al. (2002b) also suggested that it might be best to find ways to meet the needs of the whole family unit, rather than just focusing on the youth. It might stand to reason that if the parents or family unit were receiving supports, that the youth might not have to take as much on themselves in the way of worry and stress.

In this case, the youths’ compassion could be compounding their sadness and loss.

135

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: While receiving care from her friend’s family, Ella was concerned that the experience of hosting displaced families might be emotionally draining too.

Turning to care ethics (Gilligan, 1982; Noddings, 1984, 2012), it is important to remember that caring relationships involve reciprocity and mutuality—the cared-for acknowledges feeling/being cared-for in some way, and the carer experiences the receptivity of their caring.

In ethical caring relationships, the experience of caring can be positive experiences for all of

those involved.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: While the caring itself can be ‘work’, the caring exchanges can also be restorative—nurturing the spirit. Many youth also helped with the clean out in each other’s houses, extending the practices of generosity and care beyond themselves.

Eagle: It is telling that the youth described various webs of relationships alongside their harrowing stories of life after the flood. They told of connecting with friends in chat groups, staying at the homes of friends and family, and receiving support from family and friends who provided help and care in multiple ways. Sometimes the relationships were strained, but it was often the web of relations that sustained the disaster victims through the crisis.

Buffalo the Gifted: It might also be important to restate that multiple participants suggested that the physical presence and availability of support groups or counsellors would likely have been beneficial, and that these supports, if present, could be better advertised.

Meaning-Making

It is evident that the youth involved in the study had a keen awareness of the pressures their families and friends were under. In response to familial needs, the youth demonstrate selflessness—they put the needs of the group, or family unit, ahead of their own;

136 these values of generosity and sharing are commensurate with an Aboriginal/Indigenous worldview (Little Bear, 2000).

The physical recovery process can be long, especially when dealing with insurance companies and household renovations. The emotional recovery also varies from person to person, and can depend on the levels of support they receive or perceive (Norris et al. 2002a

2002b; Vernberg et al., 1996), and on their social supports (Lai et al., 2018). The mental toll can be exhibited in a variety of ways, and can be made visible to others through symptoms associated with depression, reduced social resources, physical ailments, and/or interpersonal problems

(Norris et al., 2002b). Some of the stories were marked with short tempers, teary breakdowns, and light humour. The button story stands out as a trickster-esque tale, germane to Indigenous storytelling traditions (Archibald, 2008a; Ermine, 1995; Four Arrows, 2008; King, 2003; among others) and an element of the initial connotations of bricolage (Kincheloe, 2001).

The trickster goes by many names and is a beloved teacher.

What might his teachings be from the button story?

At this point in the meaning-making process, I feel compelled to address my conceptions of spirit and spirituality as they apply to the youth. In holistic frameworks (Absolon, 2010, 2016;

Archibald, 2008a; Battiste, 2000; Bell, 2014; Cajete, 1994; Calliou, 1995; Carriere &

Richardson, 2013; Elder Bob Cardinal, personal communication, September, 2016 to July, 2017;

Graveline, 1998; Hart, 2002; Hill, 2014; University of Alberta, 2016; Wenger-Nabigon, 2010), spirituality refers to cultural teachings and traditions, including commitment to ceremony.

As I envisioned the conceptual framework for the analysis stage of the study, I was keenly aware that spiritualty may not be evident within the stories told by the youth, at least not in the Indigenous sense of the term. Through Mi’kmaq Elder Albert Marshall’s description of

137 two-eyed seeing (2017; Bartlett, Marshall, & Marshall, 2012; Iwama, Marshall, Marshall, &

Bartlett, 2009)—where you take the best aspects of two differing perspectives to create a new vision of a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts—I have attempted to see spirit and spirituality as a hybrid concept born of Indigenous and Western knowledges. Parker Palmer describes spirituality as “the diverse ways we answer the heart’s longing to be connected with the largeness of life—a longing that animates love and work” (2017, p. 5). Further Palmer states we are constantly co-creating ourselves and the world around us, where “the inward quest for communion becomes a quest for outward relationships: at home in our own souls, we become more at home with each other” (p. 5). Combining Palmer’s view of spirituality with Elder Bob

Cardinal’s descriptions of the southern direction and Grandmother Beaver, the spiritual guide, I am taking spirituality to be an inward journey in search of deep spiritual connections to the world, with reverence for all beings—known and unknown—in relations of love and respect.

The ways to sustain the spirit can also be difficult to articulate in the context of disaster recovery, but I sense that deep connections may be bolstered by the presence of: social, emotional, mental, and physical supports; humour; learning opportunities; helping others; being together, and being alone; finding joy in the moments; being held in a web of relations; ethical care; storytelling and more. Ceremonies and cultural traditions are also important, but they will look different depending on the communities, cultures, contexts, Elders, teachers, and spiritual leaders.

Unforeseen Challenges

Storied Métissage

What have been the hardest lessons in life since high school?

138

Sarah: Learning how to be an adult. Trying to balance being an adult, being a mother, all basically at once. That’s fun. Come out of high school, you have to learn how to be an adult, you’ve got to learn how to be a mom right away, so … Sarah: Learning how to adult. Yeah, I don’t like that one. That one’s hard. Interviewer: So could you elaborate on adulting? Sarah: Honestly, school doesn’t teach you the stuff that you need to know so you kind of learn it on your own. Looking back now, I wish they taught money management and how to … well you don’t write checks much anymore, but at least … some people do. My landlord likes checks so you had to learn that from the internet. Interviewer: Sorry, that’s just brilliant. It is. Isn’t that how we do things now? You don’t know how to do it, you just look online. Sarah: Yeah, just Google it. That’s – Interviewer: Are there videos on writing a check or like …? Sarah: Yeah. There’s videos, there’s pictures, it shows you were to put things so that’s how you do it. Interviewer: Any other aspects of adulting that have been particularly painful or work? Sarah: Honestly, trying to juggle children. At 18 years old, you don’t really know what you’re doing. You don’t know how to change a diaper but you learn it. I’m on my [ordinal number] now so he’s … I’m – Interviewer: Old hand now. Sarah: Yeah. Interviewer: It did get easier, hey, for the first one? Is there anything you wish you could have told yourself 6 years ago about how these last 6 years would go? Like go back in time, give yourself some advice, or …? Sarah: You think you know it but you don’t. Interviewer: Would you have listened to yourself? Sarah: No. Definitely not, no. I always thought I knew a lot. My mom quickly told me I didn’t and I quickly learned on my own that I don’t. I still text her or Google stuff, like towards cooking. I don’t know what I’m doing. The other day actually, or a couple of weekends ago, she asked if she needed to bring anything for Thanksgiving and I was like, can you bring that knife-y thingy you cut the turkey with? I was like,

139

I don’t know what it’s called. She’s like, a carving knife? I was like, yeah that one. It’s just little things like that you don’t really know. Interviewer: It’s just that thing that your parents have, your mom has to cut turkey all those times. Sarah: I know. Interviewer: I remember [my partner] the first time he said, we need a gravy boat. It was like the biggest thing. I have to get a gravy boat to put the gravy in. Sarah: Yeah, we have a little gravy boat but most of it went into like a measuring cup. Interviewer: Exactly. Life hacks, right. Sarah: It works the same. (Sarah’s Interview, 2019)

What have been the hardest lessons in life since high school?

Hayley: Finding a career. Interviewer: Finding a career, yeah. Hayley: Yeah, mostly just – I mean I have my family’s [business], I can work there, there is always work, so I could work there until I die. But, yeah, just finding a career is challenging. … Hayley: Okay. Um. I took a year off after high school and I worked for my family’s [business]. And then I went to university for four years [in a named province in Canada]. And then I graduated last May in [year] and was back on my parents’ [business] because I can’t find work with [named field of study]. Hayley: Yeah. It was really good but there is not much following just that. I’ve learned you need a little bit more school, which is a pain [laughs]. Interviewer: Right. Hayley: But it’s been good, nothing bad, just can’t find a career [laughs]. Yeah. Interviewer: And were you expecting that? Hayley: No, not when I started. I thought Interviewer: What kind of work did you think you’d get? Hayley: I thought I’d work, like – Okay, I guess I’ll keep an eye on it. Yeah, I expected to find work somewhere in the healthcare system, working like as a team, as a part of a team, whether it be a [named occupation] or a [named occupation], or like old folks, elderly facilities, but

140

it’s just not that easy. You can do that, but it kind of seems you have to know people – that's what I’ve gathered. But, yeah, I keep looking. I’ll be online, like job postings, but still it’s very, very niche. … Hayley: Yeah, that was one thing with [my degree], I wish they had like a co-op component or something, but they don’t really have any of the like experience, like the field- based stuff is just the school and that’s it, there’s no experience which is a bummer. So I wish- Some of the summers I wish I kind of tried to like shadow people more, or tried to like intern. I used to just work [for the family business]. I would just go back to it, which is great for me because I always have a job, but I kind of feel like I should’ve tried a bit harder to at least try something so I know if don’t like [the specific field of work], or if I don’t like [another related field of work] – not that those are options, I can’t get into those – but I should’ve just tried a little harder to do more things, I think. (Hayley’s Interview, 2019)

What has been most challenging?

Carli: I think for me making friends cause when the flood happened everything kind of, I think everything changed for everybody and I lost all my friends. I haven't talked to anybody from high school in years now and even now I still struggle to make friends. I think that trust kind of was broken a little bit so that's what I find really, really challenging. Interviewer: So, your friend group from high school, I'm just trying to like understand now like it, everything dissolved so quickly. … Carli: I don’t know, I think, cause everybody was affected a little bit differently so some of us were able to go back to, you know, our homes right away, nothing was affected. Others, we couldn't, like me couldn't really go home for quite a while. And, I think just the stresses of that were kind of getting at each other. And we started, we're going to different schools, universities, colleges and then, which you expect, every, like people to kind of lose contact a little bit. But, I think it just, all of the stress and everything from that kind of pushed everybody maybe a little over the edge.

141

… Carli: Yeah, I think, we tried to still see each other cause, you know, what else are we going to do, go home. So we were still hanging out and talking and everything and everything was fine really throughout that time. I think it's afterwards when everybody's trying to go home or clean up, this, that and the other thing, you can't see each other as much, you can't talk as much, it just …

What have been the hardest lessons in life since high school?

Carli: I think maybe I had to learn that I had to just kind of rely on myself and sometimes you can't really rely on other people. Like I know I can always rely on my mom but really, she is probably one of the only person that I fully trust that I can rely on. Everybody else is maybe up in the air so I really have to just know that I can do things by myself. (Carli’s Interview, 2019)

What have been the hardest lessons in life since high school?

Natalie: I put that … and the world sucks. So, High River was sort of a bubble … like it didn’t, yeah, I mean – So, I went to [a rural] school with the same 12 people from kindergarten to grade eight and then went to grade nine with the same 100 people from grade nine to grade 12. So … it like, going from what felt like having at least 12 brothers and sisters and then … those 100 people, you obviously get to know most of them fairly well in the four years you’re together. So, I definitely think that that was a huge bubble, like I run into someone from high school almost every time I go out and my [partner] now is like, I have literally never ran into anyone, and he went to a huge high school in Calgary. So, I feel, I don’t know, it’s so weird … Yeah. Interviewer: There’s some anonymity in those big high schools – Natalie: Yeah. Interviewer: - you can – Natalie: Whereas – Interviewer: - not know people – Natalie: Yeah. Interviewer: - but in a small town you’re going to know everybody and –

142

Natalie: Yeah. Interviewer: - and everybody’s going to know you. Natalie: And they’re going to know your business and you’re going to know theirs. Yeah, absolutely. … Natalie: Yeah. So, I don’t know if that’s from the flood, it very well could be or if that was just, it’s who I am, like I don’t know, so yeah. But other than that, just like the usuals I guess, financials, problems, like starting a life with a partner, break-ups and rejection and having like aging parents and grandparents, just the usual. Yeah, other than that – (Natalie’s Interview, 2019)

What have been the hardest lessons in life since high school?

Rebecca: Probably like learning how to like manage myself as far as being alone like away from my parents. Like they live just down the road but like I love my mom so much [laughs]. Like she is like a saint. So being away from – like I can obviously go over but like I do my own laundry now, you know [laughs]. So mostly like adult things. Like as far as going into working full time it really wasn’t a big change for me because I started working – I was 13 and I was at the – I worked at the [retail] store by [named grocery store] down there and then like I haven’t stopped since. Like in college I worked two jobs like so as – that would be probably the least challenging thing was going to work every day and the nice thing about being a [named career] is like it’s different every day. Like absolutely different every day. So it’s never boring. I couldn’t do – like my mom [is in an administrative job]. I couldn’t do that, you know [laughs]. So I like the – yeah. So probably just like – Interviewer: Different [clients] and different situations and different – Rebecca: Yeah. Interviewer: Like yeah. Rebecca: Yeah. Emergencies, different surgeries. Yeah, still learning after two years like all these and like holy crap [laughs], so. Interviewer: So many things. Rebecca: Yeah. Navigating regular life challenges would probably be the challenging thing of being grown up, I guess [laughs].

143

Interviewer: Yeah. Did you feel prepared for that? Rebecca: I think I felt like I was more prepared than I actually was because I was like really excited to, you know, move out, get out of mom and dad’s house and now it’s like uh, do I renew my lease or do I go back home with my mom and dad, you know, where I get, you know, have you eaten, you know [laughs], but yeah. Interviewer: I remember that. Packing up my own car to go to university and we lived in a really small town in northern B.C. and like driving like 12, 12 and a half hours to like Vancouver and like nobody knows where you are if you go out or like – Rebecca: Yeah. Exactly. Interviewer: – and you know, it just – yeah, just all that responsibility is now like – Rebecca: Yeah. And I don’t know why I thought I was so prepared because even when I went to the school – like [the college] is only a [short distance] away. Like an hour and 20 minutes on the dot [laughs]. And like I would come home every weekend. Like stay Friday and then Monday morning I would drive up to make my first class. Like I hated being away from home. I hated it [laughs]. And I don’t know if it was mostly because like my other dog or my [animals] like if that’s what made me homesick but living – I actually – I moved to [a neighbouring community] before I moved here and it wasn’t bad. Like I wasn’t like feeling like I was at [named college] like I hated it, you know. Like I was fine seeing my parents every other week or whatever. So I don’t know if it was just like the animals I was missing or what [laughs]. … Rebecca: Not everything is free including like you know, your state of mind. Like it doesn’t – it’s not easy – like I don’t know how to word it. You’re not just going to be happy if you don’t like try to be, you know what I mean. Like of course I’m going to be like shitty if I stay in my house for like a week and you know, wonder why I’m feeling sad, you know. You got to work hard to be – for everything really. You got to work hard for your job, for your own happiness, for other people, parents. Like that was especially moving away from my parents that was the lesson. Like I can’t just expect like you know, to walk upstairs and see my mom’s face and be happy because that’s what would happen, right? Like now it’s like I wake up – I mean

144

obviously, I have like him and my frigging cat that’s irritating but they make me happy [laughs]. But it’s not – you know, you can’t just rely on, to sit there and let things come you including happiness. Interviewer: [Unintelligible 00:24:37] [laughs]. Rebecca: Yeah. I don’t know. It was really big because like I would get like that. Like I’m so – like so introverted that I would just sit here and like go to work, come home and sit on my ass and like wonder why I’m sad. It’s like duh, you’re not doing anything to make yourself happy. Like go out and see your [animals]. Like go for a walk. And yeah, I just recently went through a breakup and after that too was like – and yeah, we’re still good [laughs]. After that, it was like going from – because we moved into here together. But going from like being with him all the time and then like being alone after that and then sitting there wondering why I’m sad. I’m like it’s not just the fact that I’ve just, you know, broken someone’s heart but I’m not doing anything to make myself happy and maybe that was the demise of the relationship to get deep, you know what I mean. But yeah because everything – like even like paying for things. Like that’s easy compared to like making yourself happy, you know. Rebecca: I want to say yes because I always – like I was determined to be a [named career] and I was determined to still have my [animals] and you know. So I think it’s actually pretty close of what I imagined it. As far as like the effort like again to make myself happy that was a little – because I’m like mom. I love my mom. So not like seeing her all the time. Again, I can, but you know, like going upstairs and having mom here. (Rebecca’s Interview, 2019)

What have been the hardest lessons in life since high school?

Mark: [Laughs] I kind of didn’t really know what I was doing back home. I graduated university and then I had – I didn’t really like what I studied once I finished so then I was kind of trying to figure out what it is I wanted to do. I was working for [a named] University for a while and like basically running their aquatic department and it was all right but just like it wasn’t a long term thing for me, not something I found myself with wanting to do with the career. So then kind of just figured why not wing it and pack up. I’m going to move to [another country] for a bit.

145

… Mark: I would – I don’t know if it’s really from the flood but I would say it’s kind of coming to terms with being alright with not having it all figured out and knew but it’s like I said, graduated university and everyone else was – everyone else in my program really loved it and is now doing stuff in that field and it wasn’t for me and I’ve spent quite a while thinking what have I done, like why have I wasted four years doing this and so I guess the hardest thing is yeah just coming to terms with the thing. Like I don’t – I feel old sometimes but I am 24. I’m really not that old. Like there’s still lots of time for me to figure it out. … Mark: Yeah. I think it’s weird too, because I mean in High River I feel like everyone either becomes an oil rigger, or like the farming, becomes a welder, a plumber, electrician, a mechanic or they go to school and become like a nurse, an engineer, a teacher, or they may go into business. It’s almost like the eight career paths I thought there were in the world for a while. So yeah, it’s been kind of a change [unintelligible 00:35:06]. Interviewer: Yeah. No, it’s a lot of figuring it out. I felt ripped off when I went to school because I didn’t – like I didn’t know that there’s like this whole field of engineering and like all – Mark: Okay [laughs]. Interviewer: – and all the branches of engineering. Like something in my whole whatever, 13 years of schooling could have like introduced me to that, I felt [laughs]. Mark: Yeah. I felt the same way sometimes when I’d hear about the jobs and I’m like what did you pick for that? Like one of them was like, they did a degree. It was business but they majored in sport management and now they’re working for the W.H.L. Now that’s too cool. Wish I would have known about that. (Mark’s Interview, 2019)

What have been the hardest lessons in life since high school?

Janelle: I think a lot of things have been challenging. I think being away from home for 11 months is challenging, that was probably in the last like 10 years the most challenging year of my life, just because I didn’t speak [the specific language] very

146

well at all. Actually, this is interesting. So I planned to learn [the specific language] before leaving for [a country in Asia], like I planned to finish all my diplomas and then do [the specific language course] all summer and I didn’t because of the flood. So when I got off the plane all I could say was like “hi” and “thank you”, and then my family could pretty much say hi and thank you in English back so it was like … It was pretty entertaining because we both were just kind of smiling and waving and nice to each other, but we couldn’t talk except for like Google Translate on like the iPhones, but it was pretty funny. So that was a challenge, but … What else has been challenging? I don’t really know. That was probably the biggest one, was like trying to learn another language and culture and feeling not prepared, but was fun and I’m glad I did it and it was like a really good opportunity, so ... I’m really lucky with technology because Google Translate could be quite like effective. Interviewer: Very effective, yeah. Janelle: Because my host mom, she would be trying to talk to me and then she’d be like, ah, and then like just Google Translate and it would like help so much. … Janelle: Interesting. I guess this summer was kind of interesting. I learned you can do all the right things and be the right person and still things won’t work out. I almost had a job and it was kind of interesting. I’m happy to do my masters, like it was an awesome plan, but like if I had been offered a job it would have been more vacation and more money and it would have just been kind of awesome too. So I guess I kind of learned you can give things your best shot and be the strongest candidate and still not get things, and it’s not really – it’s just the way it is, it’s not really like anything that you did wrong, it’s – I don’t know. It’s like a long situation to explain, but I guess people said I was a strong candidate for this job and like if there was a job that it should go to me, but then they went with somebody [else]. And I get it, but I don’t like it. Interviewer: No. Janelle: [Laughs] Like I see where they’re coming from, but it’s like, um … But I think also like – I don’t know, some of these [managed] decisions are hard to know because I

147

think part of the decision is that maybe they wanted somebody who will fit a certain role in the company. I don’t know, people said maybe I was more on the leadership track whereas they’re more on the working track. Interviewer: Right, because they want like a long-term employee, not somebody who might in the future move into … Janelle: Different roles within the company. I think that’s maybe what it was but … So I don’t know, that was a good lesson to learn. But I think it’s better long term, like I mean my masters is going to be awesome and I’m super excited and like I said, I’ll have this kind of freedom with my schedule and like even doing research, like most people don’t get to just like dive into like a project and own it, like that’s going to be really awesome so I’m really excited. So it’s good. (Janelle’s Interview, 2019)

What have been the hardest lessons in life since high school?

Jacki: Most of it jobs, a lot of it's been jobs. Cause it's, not having much experience, I was out of school I think for five years before I went back for post-secondary, so I was just like trying to get my foot in the door, trying to keep myself there. Trying to work my way up through the industry and then pretty much just be hitting a steel wall cause there's nowhere for me to go from there. So I'm just sitting there working pretty much at dead end job, hoping to get ahead in life but like not getting very far. And then things will change in the company and they'll decide that they want to shift that the way that the company works, and then when doing so they also switch, or they also shift who's working for them. And it, constantly being like tossed out, like no warning whatsoever and just being like eh, go find something else. Interviewer: Can I ask what line of work or what kind of jobs you were pursuing when that was happening? Jacki: When I first came to Calgary, well I was working at [a local restaurant] in High River, when I left High River, so I was like oh I can just transfer. No. They weren't connected so I had to re-apply for [another location in the restaurant chain] so I was, I served there for two months, they didn't like my small town vibes and how I tried to be connecting with the customers, they just wanted you to be the silent server instead of connecting with people like we did small town style.

148

So I switched to retail and then retail, I went back to janitorial which I did right out of high school and hated janitorial but it was a job. And then after janitorial I was having a problem finding a job so I did door to door sales with Telus. I was like I don't like door to door sales, don't want to do this. So I went to what I thought was an interview to be a receptionist, no it was more door to door sales, they just worded it funny. And finally I got into a barbershop and I was reception for a barbershop for two years. And then I started school and I was doing school full-time and going to work full- time as well. And it was just a nightmare but tried to make it work for a while. Interviewer: Wow. So, now you're at school full-time. Jacki: Yeah, school full-time and then I just do like odd jobs for friends and stuff, just like pet-sitting. … Jacki: You know, when you're like a kid and you're just like, "I'm going to move out" cause the parents, they're just like, "You're going to follow my rules" or they jokingly tell you like, "If you don’t want to follow the rules then get out." And you're like, "Okay" and you pack your bag and you go to the step and then cry. Or your parents tell you that it's not easy in the real world and you think about it and you're just like well I got to work so I can pay my rent and then buy groceries and that's easy. That seems so easy, that's three tasks, three tasks you have. Pay your rent, buy groceries, go to work. It's not that easy, when they tell you it's not easy, it's not easy. There are times when you don’t want to go to work, you're sick. I ended up like bedridden for two weeks at one point, my boss didn't believe me that I was sick and I fainted. I went to work, I was just working weekends at the time for them and I missed one weekend cause I was sick and then I called in the next Saturday saying that I was sick and she's like, "You said you were sick last week." And I said, "I’m still sick, I'm pretty much confined to my bed, like if I try to get up it's just really bad." So she didn't seem happy about it so on Sunday I was like fine I'll go in. And I had to faint, I didn't have to, like I ended up fainting but like three times before she allowed me to go home.

149

Interviewer: Oh, my gosh. Jacki: Yeah, I was like really, I'm like I'm not faking this. Like if I, like we weren't allowed stools otherwise I would have just been like, I'll just sit on the stool, do the, do minimal work, like I don’t care. But, no, it's not easy. I, there's times where you have to choose work over your mental health or over your sister's birthday or your niece's birthdays or random little events that are going on. And you have to go to work cause if you don't you can't afford rent. It's always to have, there's safety in numbers, as they say, I, me and my partner lived together and we struggled a lot. And his aunt and uncle had a baby so we figured they had a baby, their finances are probably a little strained right now. And I was like our finances are strained, so we ended up all moving in together. We ended up with a really nice house and it was able to work for all of us. We were able to save money and we had our own spaces. My partner got to hang out with his baby cousin all the time, they all still live together, they all still get to hang out, I go and visit them every once in a while. And there's no hard feelings, they know it was just cause I needed to be closer to school. I was like, I can't do two hours of transit each way. … Jacki: No. Maybe you did, maybe that was, yeah, the minimalism thing kind of, letting go of things, yeah. I think it was mostly just since high school it was just letting go of things, for the most part. With the flood and everything you just, you get a new perspective of it. It was a rough year for me. I, in 2012, December I lost my dad two weeks before Christmas, so, and then on New Year's Eve my mom broke her ankle. Given I didn't live with my mom, she lived by herself and she broke her ankle. So I had to move back in with her for two weeks to help her. And when I moved out when I was 16 we weren't on speaking terms and then we kind of decided we were best off as friends and I haven't had much contact with my mom since. So it's been very PC with us. And then my best friend told me that he was moving to [a different province] and I was like oh yeah not a problem, after we graduate I know you're going to, we're going to go off and do our own little things. And, no, no. He was leaving in like two

150

weeks. And, yeah, so I had basically already started a new life as of like the end of January 2013 and then the, I was just like, I was just getting into it, I was like this is good, it's nice and then the flood hit. And that was just a whole other thing. I was just, like I said, just been carrying, like learning to let go of things as well too and learning how to properly grieve with stuff. It's very nice, like if, instead of, I like to bottle things up, I’m one of those people but just to find the time to be able to have a moment. I recently lost my step-daughter, for lack of a better term. Interviewer: So like she passed? Jacki: Yeah. Interviewer: I’m so sorry. Jacki: Yeah, it, thank you, I don't know what to say. So with that it's been a lot. There's been like a lot of – because I bottle things up I'll lash out for like no reason and then it's being able to find the reason and being able to give yourself time to cope and to grieve. And it's helped recently which is weird, my dad's been gone for over five years now and it's helped me to grieve through that. I talked to my sister recently and she's like, "It's been six years since Dad passed" and she's like, "I still haven't grieved." She's like, "I don't know how." So being able to, knowing when to, being able to … not switch it off and on but realizing that you need that moment and to be able to take that moment is always nice. Interviewer: Has anything helped like point you to that, like …? Jacki: I'm not sure. There was just one day where I was like off, I feel like I've dealt with depression and anxiety for a very long time and I've been able to recently like get medicated because of school having a health and dental plan it's been nice. So, I've realized … that, cause before everything was kind of just grey or numb or everything was sad kind of thing, and I've been able to [unintelligible 00:54:34] my emotions and realize that if I'm having a sad day it is probably related to how I’m feeling about something. And then I just kind of dig deeper into why I'm feeling that way and then if I have the time – I try to do that when I have time to be able to sit down and think about it. And I'll take the time to sit there and be like, okay what's

151

bothering me, what am I thinking about, what would help me right now that I obviously can't get. And I'll see if relates to something and if I can get whatever I feel like I'm missing I'll try and contact that person or get a hold of whatever I need and be like oh there, I'm feeling better, maybe this is what I needed. Maybe it'll make me realize that's not what I needed and it's something deeper. Or I can just take the time to sit there and be like okay it's not something that I can have or not someone I can see. And I just take the moment to enjoy the memories or the times that we either got to have together or take the time to be sad about the things that didn't happen or won't happen. So, I don’t know, it was a weird growth process. Interviewer: Wow. And you came to that on your own. Jacki: Yeah. I just, I don’t know what triggered that but it was weird. Interviewer: Yeah, I’m happy you've found that for yourself, it's like, yeah. Jacki: I was never much of a crier so I was just like I said I always bottle stuff up and I dubbed myself the human robot. I was able to shut off emotion and progress from things. When my step-dad or my friend's daughter, partner's daughter, when she passed it was chaos obviously that night and I was the one that had to – well, I was the one that offered because of my ability to part from my emotions, I was the one that offered to go back to our room and relay everything to the police for the police statement. They had to do a video of, a video re-enactment of everything that happened. So, that was, I was the one that, I was like I’m not going to put the parents back through that, I'm going to let them stay here, grieve, go through their police reports at the police station. I did mine first so that we could get me over to the, to our room and do all that stuff. But, yeah, I think it was, it was after that that I realized that I needed to take the time. I needed to – there were trauma counsellors, I believe it's what they're called there, and they mentioned that just because I was caring for, like taking caring of my partner that they reminded me that I needed to take time for myself as well. So, that might have been helpful in coming to the instance of I needed to have my time with my emotions rather than suppressing them. Otherwise it's going to come back to bite me in the butt. (Jacki’s Interview, 2019)

152

What have been the hardest lessons in life since high school?

Alana: The biggest one was we sold our house that I grew up in High River last summer. That was really hard. My mom moved with my stepdad so they were in [a neighbouring province] and kind of [another province] a little bit, getting all their stuff together. Now they live in [the neighbouring province] but they weren’t here so there was a lot of extra stuff put on me, finishing the house, the little things before you sell a house. And I was living with my brother, my youngest brother, and he’s [a specific age] but he’s on his own time clock and really lazy so that’s a little bit of extra stress but that was probably like the biggest challenge ever because we had grown up there and then went through the flood, rebuilt it and restarted a life there and then we were selling it. I actually went into a really bad place and I was at the hospital for a few days and worked through it. I’m good. Everything’s good now but it was really hard. That’s the biggest challenge that I’ve had to go through, like ever. Yeah, it was bad. I would say it was worse than my parents splitting up, for sure. A thousand times, for sure. … Alana: I don’t know. I guess guys are a pain in the butt. I’m not going to lie. After the flood, I was in a relationship and he cheated on me and it was absolutely terrible so I had to leave for 2 months actually. I just couldn’t be here anymore. And so when I came back, it was like, I don’t know. I was always with someone through high school and after high school and so it was nice to just leave and find myself and I think that was the hardest. Interviewer: Did you go travel? Alana: I just went to [a neighbouring province] My grandparents retired on [there]. So I just went and lived with them for 2 months. It was great. There was nobody there. I didn’t know anybody. Literally tanned outside watching Grey’s Anatomy. It was great. But I think that was one of the hardest parts of growing up after high school was finding yourself as yourself, not someone’s other half or whatever. That and work. I really had to build a backbone with … I mean everyone does, but I’ve really had to learn how to ask for certain things when other things aren’t working and

153

you’ve got to stick up for yourself before everybody else and I really had to learn that. (Alana’s Interview, 2019)

Generative Dialogue

The challenges are as diverse as the participants.

Buffalo the Gifted: The young adults have aptly described the many difficulties that come with

“adulting.” Entering into adulthood comes with its own set of responsibilities. It can be a lot to learn all at once. It is important to create safety and nurture the gifts of the youth as they learn new skills associated with: parenting, cooking, personal finance management, and employment.

Many of the participants struggled with the latter. Even those who had earned a university

degree were finding it difficult to procure employment in their given fields.

Thunder Being the Messenger: Searching for a vocational path or career, can be competitive and humbling. It is a gift to get hired into (or to create) a position that is both challenging and rewarding, regardless of a person’s age. Finding a job is more difficult than they are anticipating.

For the youth who cannot be included under their parents’ coverage, they need a job in order to

have a health and dental plan. Some go without until they can get a job or get into school.

Bear the Historian: It can be demoralizing to seek employment and be the unsuccessful applicant/candidate, again and again. Patience and persistence are needed.

As Hayley noted, it might be helpful if more careers offered internships, field experience,

practicums, and/or service learning opportunities.

While many high schools offer pathways to vocational training and the trades, it might be helpful

if they and/or universities expanded programming to provide routes into professional careers.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: The stories convey a sense of dampened spirits, stemming from the flood and dismal career prospects. I wonder if these youth have turned to their Elders,

154 taken broadly, for guidance? Intergenerational teaching and mentorships could be another pathway to explore.

That suggestion might work two-fold: first providing expert knowledge to mentees, and second as

a built-in support mechanism where the mentors act as supports and advocates for the youth.

Eagle: I also have seen that some youth struggle with the notion of being “independent.” The ideal of individualism is very much a western construct (Ermine, 1995; Graveline, 2000), whereas being accountable to a web of relations is a central aspect of an Indigenous worldview

I remember how powerful I found Rebecca’s comment about making a conscious effort to do

things that made her happy, that she could not just sit around and expect that it would come to

her.

Bear the Historian: Rebecca realized she had to plant and tend the seeds for her happiness, rather than just hoping that something will grow. She noted that, compared to other aspects of young adult life (e.g. paying for things), making yourself happy takes a lot of work.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: Significantly, Rebecca described herself as an introvert. From looking inward, she was able to gain self-knowledge and value the qualities in her friends— respect, generosity, and care—that she requires to be brought out of her shell. Looking inward

155 has shown her the value of making and maintaining connections that cultivate her spiritual well- being.

Thunder Being the Messenger: Other youth are also on those inward journeys to self-knowledge.

Mark was “coming to terms with being alright with not having it all figured out” (Interview,

2019). Jacki “needed to have [her] time with [her] emotions rather than suppressing them” and was “learning how to properly grieve” (Interview, 2019).

The youth demonstrate such strength and wisdom—with an openness to learning.

Meaning-Making

The “Unforeseen Challenges” exposed several rich areas of discussion. With respect to the challenges youth face when looking for employment in a competitive job market, it might be worthwhile to consider the discourse of experiential learning—shaped by the work of John

Dewey, Jean Piaget, Lev Vygotsky, Carl Jung, Paulo Freire, and David Kolb (see Kolb, 2014), to name a few. To be responsive to the needs of youth, high schools and post-secondary institutions might consider where more professional career pathways could be explored. Experiential learning can take many forms, such as: capstone projects, field experience, service learning, labs, simulations, practicums, community-based projects, internships, applied research projects, performance-based learning, and beyond (see “Experiential Learning,” 2020). For the youth struggling to find (meaningful) work, many of them did not anticipate it being such a challenge.

Each expressed varying degrees of agency in resolving the matter. Some of the participants went back to school to upgrade courses in order to get into the programs they needed for their desired careers; others did what they thought they needed to be employable and later regretted not putting themselves out there more, or taking time away from school to figure it out.

156

Another salient area that emerged in the above conversation, centred around the idea of independence. As youth are in a period of transition, regardless of disaster-related circumstances, they may experience a lot of upheaval in their relationships with place, peers, partners, and family. The narrative that youth need to “become more independent’ might be misguided and potentially detrimental. During the disaster, youth became embodiments of support and action.

They mobilized to clean out houses and actively worked to protect their families and friends from added burden. The youth generously supported their web of relations, with physical labour, mental labour, emotional labour, and acts of love and kindness—spiritual labour. It is almost ironic that the greatest challenge youth face in life post-disaster, is breaking from many of these relationships. Other aspects of life after the flood are comparatively easier than making new friends, being away from family, and seeking out opportunities and experiences that will bring happiness. Caring, respectful, mutually-beneficial relationships are at the heart of overall well- being—living in webs of relations, means living well.

Perseverance and Accomplishments

Storied Métissage

Is there anything that you are particularly proud of doing?

Julie: Coming back. Coming back to school, yeah. Graduating in the first place. I mean I know a lot of people when they have their first, they get really sick and don’t go anywhere, do anything. But luckily, with my oldest, I wasn’t sick at all so I was still able to go to school, get the grades that I wanted and still do really well and then come back here eventually as well. Interviewer: How was the school with you? Julie: Nobody knew. Interviewer: Nobody knew, okay. Julie: Nobody knew. Not even my parents for a while. They didn’t find out until after the flood.

157

Interviewer: Wow. That’s a lot to carry on your own. Julie: Yeah. I didn’t want to tell them. I wanted to wait until I was 18 [reason omitted for anonymity]. So I was like, I’ll tell you when I turn 18. Interviewer: So that it’s your say, your choice. Julie: My mom found out a couple of weeks before I turned 18 and then my dad didn’t find out until around grad, in August, so yeah. Interviewer: How’d they take it? Julie: My mom took it fairly well. My dad didn’t at all. He made it really awkward in the house. But it’s okay. Him and my kids are like best friends. Interviewer: A new grandpa. Julie: Yeah. … Julie: Yeah, when I graduated … throughout high school, I wanted to do something in the legal field and lawyer just didn’t sound fun because I like to argue but not that much. I didn’t want to go to school that long so I was like, why not do this? Interviewer: Awesome. That’s so great that you had a clear vision – Julie: It took a while to get here but I’m here now so. Interviewer: What did that mean for your path? Did you have to … you said it took a while. Is that because you had babies or because – Julie: Yeah, because I had babies – finally decided that they needed to be somewhere else so. Interviewer: And I don’t mean to be nosy – Julie: No, no, it’s all good. (Julie’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything that you are particularly proud of doing?

Anya: Leaving my ex is one thing that I'm proud of cause that was hard, that was rough. I definitely thought that we were going to end up married and I was going to end up stuck in this terrible position. I want to say going back to school but not necessarily because of school but because of how I got in. I went to an open house in October and registered for January classes. I was put on a long wait list of people. I was contacted the day before student, before tuition was due. Interviewer: Oh, wow.

158

Anya: The day before tuition was due I was contacted and informed that tuition needed to be paid the next day before four p.m. So I phoned the school, I was like this is my situation, they literally asked me if I could like phone my parents or ask a friend to borrow the – Interviewer: Tuition. Anya: – yeah, like three grand. And I’m like, no. Interviewer: I don't know what kind of friends you have. Anya: Yeah, it was like I don't, what. And there's something that like, normally I'm just like okay this is my fate, but there was something that was just like don't give up. So I called back again, obviously was a very stressful time for them too cause they're obviously dealing with all the tuition payments and stuff. Second person wasn't very helpful either, they obviously were under a lot of stress so they weren't be the nicest people either. It was kind of just tough luck, sorry, try again next year. And because I went to an open house I got free enrolment or application, normally application's like $100. So I was like no, no, I'm going to do it. So I phoned one more time, the lady who answered was so sweet and I said, like I explained to her what was going on, I was like, "I don't have parents that can help me out", I was like, "I don't have friends that can help me out." And she's like, "Okay, well, did you apply for student loans?" "Yes." She was the only person that asked me that and I was like, "Yeah." And she was like, "Okay, well did you get your student loans?" I was like, "I don’t have them but they told me how much I would get if I got accepted." She was like, "Oh, okay, let me see if I can find someone who can help you." So they transferred me to another person, her name is Laura, I don’t remember her last name but I am, to this day, ever grateful to her. I go and see her at least twice a semester to thank her, see how things are going. Because with her I was able to, we got all the paperwork sorted out, she, I kept in contact with her, made sure that my payments were put through – later than they were supposed to be but they got put through. I was like this is my student loans, I was like you guys can have all of it, I don't care, I was like, I just need in. So I am –

159

Anya: – yeah, I was proud of myself for pushing for that. I was like, cause normally I would just give up, I'd be like okay whatever. And I was just like no, I want this, this is something I want. (Anya’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything that you are particularly proud of doing?

Becky: I'm … not really, I mean, I'm proud I got, I have a Bachelor's degree and now I have a diploma and I keep doing all my school stuff and doing it well. Interviewer: Nice. Becky: Even though life may be … makes it a little challenging I'm still doing everything the best I can. (Becky’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything that you are particularly proud of doing?

Jamie: Well I’m proud of renovating the house. It’s fun taking people in because I’ve only done parts of it right now, and when you walk in it’s still the old part, like chipped linoleum, and it just looks like- well it was built in [year] and it still looks like that, and so it’s nice, people see that and they’re like, oh, and then they see what I’ve done and they’re like, oh my God, that’s amazing. So that’s pretty cool, to be like a little handywoman. I’m proud of doing school, somewhere way far away from like anyone that I knew and getting through that, making it work, and making new friends. Yeah, those are the things that come to mind. I mean I’m sure there’s little things that I’m proud of but – (Jamie’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything that you are particularly proud of doing?

Katie: Yeah, my journeyman and my red seal. It’s a big thing. How old was I when I got it? I was 22 when I finished all of that. So that’s really cool. Not a lot of people have that that young. Interviewer: Do a lot of people get it at all? Red seal? Katie: Yeah. They do. A lot of people take a long time to do it because they don’t want to take a test but having it was like great. It was like, if I don’t want to do [the job], I don’t have to. I’m done. This is cool. Before, it’s like well no I have to do it because I have to write my exams, I need a [sponsor] to support the exam writing. I can’t just not be a [named occupation]. So that was like a weight lifted and with your red

160

seal, you can go anywhere. So it was like, oh cool, if we move I can go anywhere, no one’s going to question anything. I have everything. But, yeah, a lot of people take a long time and they’ve kind of shrunk it down a bit so when you’re done your school hours, you only have so much time to do it because too many files are being left open. So then you lose all that and then if it’s closed – … Katie: Thank you. That was a huge weight lifted because there’s lots of studying in that. But that’s okay. And I work at [named business and location]. I have moved up to a [senior position] now so that’s awesome. I got back together with my [partner] from high school and we’re living together and it’s great. I don’t really travel a whole lot. I’m a home bug. I like to just be at home or here in Alberta. But, other than that, I’ve just kind of stuck around and worked really hard to get where I am and work and stuff. (Katie’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything that you are particularly proud of doing?

Karina: [Laughter] [Unintelligible 00:33:09] Yeah, I’m proud of most things I think. Yeah, I don’t know, it’s kind of like different reasons to be proud so one thing, like academically I’m proud of my last year in my undergrad. I did really good, which was exciting because like I did okay in my first two years but I didn’t really totally like apply myself as much as I should have so it was nice to like actually win a few like [program]-specific awards. Interviewer: Congratulations. Karina: Thank you. And it was like that was exciting, so I was like, yes, like okay, it’s good to know I’m doing something right and like I’m doing good. Because like you always think you’re in the right field or you kind of guess, but it’s okay to know you’re actually like good at something that’s nice. Interviewer: Yeah, where you should be. Karina: Yeah. Interviewer: You’re doing what you … Karina: Yeah. And then like I am proud of being able to help people and volunteer, I think that’s more what matters to me. I mean at the end of the day if you’re smart that’s one thing, but if you actually make an impact in people’s lives that’s a better thing.

161

People always remember how you made them feel, not really what you [did, but] how you made them feel. Like they don’t really remember … That’s a better thing to be remembered by. So I’m happy about experiences like going to [a named country], just different volunteer things. Like even little things, like I like helping people with their resumes and trying to boost people and boost their self-esteem. So I think that’s more what matters. Interviewer: Do you do a lot of that, like volunteering and …? Karina: I did a lot of it last year and the year before, I’m trying to pick things, I’m practicing saying no. It’s hard, but it’s good. So now I’m just doing a few things that I really care about. I used to do- Somehow, I had a lot of friends who played sports, I didn’t do varsity sports but I would help do different things with them, like they had a group that was actually doing- like training Indigenous males for the Indigenous games in [sport], and like somehow, I was helping do that. And that was super fun because we’d go out to [a rural Indigenous community]. Like there was one summer we were doing it, and all my friends are like [varsity athletes] who can do all these tricks, and I’m like the emotional support, like yeah [laughter]. But it’s fun. So I think things like that, it’s like it’s good to give back and … I know for me, like a lot of people are in downtown [urban city] and I didn’t really have any connections, so like a lot of it’s been other people just like taking time to help me. Interviewer: Nice. Karina: So I think it’s good to take time to help other people because, pay it forward. (Karina’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything that you are particularly proud of doing?

Tyler: I would say like – I would say the valedictorian thing just because I don’t imagine, for good reason, I think my teachers would not have believed it would have happened. So I guess that. Especially like I never thought I would move to [a different country] so I guess I’m proud that I did that. But I think now with a lot of my friends like engineers and you know, teachers and nurses – like I said like they all kind of have careers right now. I guess I’m proud of the fact in a weird way, as much as I can say I was not passionate when I graduated university just because now in my mind it is not a case

162

of like I couldn’t do it. It’s just that I did it and now I don’t know what I want to do and I’m going to go mess around but I always know that I – I guess now in my mind now I have – everybody like has the option to. It wasn’t that I wasn’t capable of doing it, I guess. (Tyler’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything that you are particularly proud of doing?

Joni: Okay. I’m pretty proud of the [specialized] degree; that was four years of a lot of work, so. And I have a [pet] that I’m pretty proud of, she’s a pretty good [pet]. … Joni: Yeah, like she’s a [certain breed of pet], she’s cute. Yeah, so yeah, [my first degree] and then … getting into [another professional degree program]. … Joni: Because during the flood, I was proud of my mom. Yeah, very proud of her. Interviewer: Do you want to elaborate on that? Joni: Just … like without any hesitation she was running [the evacuation centre] and like told that Red Cross lady to go use that bathroom like and … Yeah, she was amazing, because she’s so compassionate, but also forceful when needed … Yeah. But I don't know what that place would’ve looked like had she not been there. Interviewer: Mm-hmm … Has there been any recognition for your mom? Joni: Just from the Hutterites. Interviewer: Pies – Joni: Yeah. Interviewer: -she’s getting a lifetime of pies and – Joni: Yeah. Yeah. Interviewer: - goodwill and a lot of – Joni: At least not that I’m aware of. But I feel like she would’ve told me though … because it was, she was, until Red Cross got there and tried to take over, she was … the head honcho. Interviewer: So, did Red Cross take over or did she work with them or –? Joni: I think they worked together, but officially Red Cross took over. Interviewer: Okay. Joni: Yeah, I believe –

163

Interviewer: But they probably relied on her for all of the, where do we find this, how do we do that -? Joni: Yeah, exactly yeah. Yes. Interviewer: How have you been doing this so far -? Joni: Yeah. Interviewer: Yeah. So, definitely an unsung hero of the flood. (Joni’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything that you are particularly proud of doing?

Laura: Going back to school to do the upgrading and like all through college, whether I was upgrading I would – or working like I wasn’t like a free ride you know what I mean. Like I really had to work hard so I’m proud I could do that. Like my third year, I worked two jobs while in school and him and the third year was the hardest as far as the school part goes. But actually, I was lucky enough my first year of college they had a grant for flood victims. … Laura: Yeah. Like I didn’t – I think there was only one diploma I didn’t write because it was after the flood. It was my math one so just took my shitty mark and that was it [laughs], so. Interviewer: And you said you upgraded math the next year. Laura: I did, yeah. Yeah. Did way better the next year [laughs], yeah. Interviewer: That’s great. Yeah, yeah. When you’re working for something I feel like people like – Laura: Yeah. Well, it was almost motivating going back because like grade 13 because you’re like okay, all these – they’re only a year young than I am. There’s not a huge difference but like I don’t want to come back a third year or a second year, you know, to upgrade. Like let’s get going. Let’s go to college [laughs]. (Laura’s Interview, 2019)

164

Generative Dialogue

Eagle: All nine participants have earned or are working towards degrees, apprenticeships, technical certificates, or other post-secondary programs. Two are already working on second degrees or programs.

It is interesting that all of the young adults went to university, college, or took other technical programs in the past six years. I wonder if that influenced their decisions to be part of the study?

Buffalo the Gifted: The youth are all using their gifts, fully. Their accomplishments include: going back to school, excelling in school, and/or completing a specialized program.

Thunder Being the Messenger: Anya demonstrated perseverance by calling the admissions office so many times. Her persistence paid off. And, Laura expressed gratitude for her “flood” grant.

In both instances, it took someone listening, in a position of power, to make a big difference in

the lives of the youth. Those acts of kindness are also the reason that Anya will be done her

program a year sooner than not, and Laura finished school with less debt than she anticipated.

Bear the Historian: Can we take a minute to talk about Julie? Her story is really something. She was pregnant through the flood and had not told her parents yet. She was still able to graduate, and has since been taking a specialized program as a mom of [#] little ones. Julie is balancing a lot of responsibilities.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: It is wonderful to know that she is doing something for her own well-being, but also for the well-being of her family. She is showing love and care for her dependent children. By seeking out teachings, the youth gain wisdom and expertise that is valued in society.

Education is valued and valuable. I am biased in my role as an educator, but I appreciate the

enthusiasm and pride each participant displayed as they shared their success stories.

165

Meaning-Making

While the pathways for each of the young adults were different, they all pursued further education or vocational training, beyond high school. Some faced financial challenges, working multiple jobs or applying for student loans. At times, they needed to show initiative and persistence to get what they needed. Two of the research participants had to upgrade their courses before they could move on to post-secondary. Returning to high school after graduation shows courage and determination. One had to prioritize her responsibilities as a new mother over her plans to go back to school. But eventually, they all got into their programs. Sometimes, it took the kindness and willingness to listen, of a person in a position of power, to make a big difference in their lives.

These young adults demonstrate a lot of self-knowledge. They know their areas of strength; they have a sense of the careers they would enjoy; and/or they have the confidence to take a step back if what they are doing is not working. The same is true in their relationships.

Several of the young adults described being happy in their romantic relationships; others were proud of ending relationships that were not contributing positively to their well-being. Other life accomplishments include working abroad, renovation projects, and volunteerism.

These young adults are finding balance, using their gifts, and nurturing the gifts of others.

Relationships that Support Well-Being

Storied Métissage

What have been your supports?

Chrystal: My parents and my [partner] have been the biggest supports, yeah. (Chrystal’s Interview, 2019)

What have been your supports?

166

Nicola: My mom for sure and then kind of her side of the family more so than my dad's side. They all live out here too so I feel like since – Interviewer: Your mom's [unintelligible 00:09:20]? Nicola: – yeah, my mom's family. So, since I've been here I'm definitely happier, they've helped me through some things, so. Interviewer: That's important to have that support network for sure. Nicola: I think maybe I, it, the flood kind of caused a lot of extra strain between my, me and my dad's side of the family because they – my dad was helpful, my mom and dad have been divorced for a really long time, so that's not really important. But his family weren't, they weren't helpful to us when they easily could have been. And I think that's something I don't really tell anybody because I don’t really talk to any of them anymore, so it's kind of like at this point, whatever. But that's something I don’t tell anybody because I don’t think it matters anymore. But they, a lot of strain was caused there and … (Nicola’s Interview, 2019)

What have been your supports?

Cara: Yeah, I was in mostly in just parents/friend’s family. (Cara’s Interview, 2019)

What have been your supports?

Jim: My family’s always, you know, been really good. I had a brother he’d moved out and was living in the city so at the time we all got stay with him in his house, five of us crammed into a one-bedroom apartment but they’ve always been really supportive. And then a lot of my closest friends, like I would say three of my best friends, my closest ones, are still the ones from high school. You know, we keep in touch all the time, see each other all the – like we see each other summers, Christmas, stuff like that. Now that I’m away, I am always, you know, Facetiming and kind of check-in and see how they’re doing but …(Jim’s Interview, 2019)

What have been your supports?

Alison: Sure. So, the next question was, what has been your supports? Obviously, family and friends and then I wrote that growing apart from high school friends has definitely happened, like there is still an active group chat that I have and it’s titled

167

like the [chat name] and it was active until like probably last year, which was kind of funny. But yeah … didn’t really, didn’t overly feel affected from the flood until I put all the, wrote this out and filled, put all the puzzle pieces together … (Alison’s Interview, 2019)

What have been your supports?

Marilyn: My mom [laughs]. Yeah, my mom and dad for sure. They’re very … They would – if I wanted to do whatever – like they would let me do anything I wanted to do except for not go to school pretty much. Like when I said I need to take a year off they were like that’s it, like you’re only taking a year off, like you need to go do something and they – especially my dad. Like he’s instilled a really good work ethic in me so like the thought of not going back to school like was scary, so. But just knowing that they – like they were super excited when I got accepted and they were super – you know, when I got my little distinction from [my program] they were like super, you know, like happy and … Interviewer: Proud. Marilyn: Yeah. Mostly my parents. Yeah, my parents. Yeah [laughs]. My dad, my [unintelligible 00:08:44] [laughs], you know. So yeah. And the people where I keep my [animals] right now they were really nice too. Like they were super, super supportive about it like letting me – like taking care of my [animal] obviously because I’d be gone for weeks at a time and they were always like super happy for me whenever I, you know, did something good [laughs]. So yeah. (Marilyn’s Interview, 2019)

What have been your supports?

Justine: Family is probably the biggest one. My now [partner]… that’s a big one. Yeah, I think that’s pretty much it. Like a few good friends, like a few friendships from high school I’m still friends with. Most of my friends now, though, are from university, I’d say like people I’ve met in the last – recent years. I think that’s normal, though. (Justine’s Interview, 2019)

What have been your supports?

168

Shani: Partners, there's been a lot of long term partners that I've had since high school, I find a lot of support in them. My best friend actually moved to [a country in Europe] afterwards but I reconnected with his brother who had pretty much supported us through high school and stuff. His family was like a massive support and I lived with them for three years. And I just recently separated from them cause I wanted to be closer to [campus] cause it was a two hour transit from their house to school every morning and every night. And I was like I don't want to do this anymore. So mostly them. My dad died when I was in high school so, yeah, I don't get much support from my family. My mom is married and has new kids in [another country], so, yeah. Interviewer: Is she in [another country]? Shani: She goes back and forth from [the other country] and High River, well, [neighbouring community], but. … Shani: So, pretty much just like trying to progress through the world by myself. Every once in a while, I call up my sister and be like, "Hey, I don’t know how to adult, help me." Interviewer: Is your sister older or …? Shani: Yeah, she's [so many] years older than me. (Shani’s Interview, 2019)

What have been your supports?

Paige: My mom. Even though she was away, I could always call her, FaceTime her, whatever. If the time zone was a problem, it wasn’t. It was never a day that my mom hasn’t been there. Growing up, she’s been amazing. My dad worked away or he just worked a lot. He wasn’t never not there, like for birthdays and stuff. He was always there. But my mom was the one to drive all 3 of us to sports and hockey or whatever and have supper ready. We never ate out. We always ate at home. She was amazing and even still, I can call her more as a friend now that we’re adults and stuff instead of, mom can you do this for me? It’s like, mom what do I do? But she’s like the biggest support ever and through the flood, I never saw anyone like so strong to just … I don’t know. She just put a wall there and said it wasn’t

169

our stuff. So it was like a disconnect and she just did it. I never saw her cry, nothing. And did it and we got it done really fast and it was like let’s just keep going. So she’s like the biggest support of my life. … Paige: If everyone can have a mom like mine, that would be cool. I guess just people to be there. We had a dog. She was 5 and then we had another one. We bought her 3 days before the flood. She was like a puppy and I have a lot of support with friends. Like, oh you have an exam, let me take your dogs. The dogs lived in the back of my [vehicle] at the time because it was like I just took them everywhere. I didn’t want to leave them at people’s houses but people were really good that way. Like, oh you have an exam, let me take the dogs. Or, do you have a place to stay tonight? I think that’s the biggest support even if you’re friends with them or not, take it because you don’t know if you’ll be able to sleep there again. So that was the biggest, just people being there, the biggest support. (Paige’s Interview, 2019)

Generative Dialogue

Eagle: It is encouraging to hear how the youth are held in these webs of relationships. They were all quick to name the people who support them.

While the responses varied, they all described having supports in their lives.

Buffalo the Gifted: In the disaster, these are the people who walked alongside them. They provided the conditions for safety and offered strength.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: They have formed deep connections, with people who make them feel loved and respected.

Thunder Being the Messenger: While many of the youth listed family members, friends, and their friends’ families as their main supports, some listed long term partners and/or spouses too.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: Sometimes, it is our more-than-human relatives that can provide love and connection to the world beyond ourselves.

170

Bear the Historian: It struck me how Nicola attributed the flood with straining her relationship with her dad and his side of the family.

In the wake of disaster, it can be surprising and humbling to see who comes through for you (and

who does not) in your time of need.

Bear the Historian: It can be difficult to forgive the people who let you down. Showing them patience and compassion, can be a way of resolving conflict and restoring the relationships—for her/your own well-being, and theirs.

Meaning-Making

The young adults acknowledged their parents, siblings, friends, partners, friend’s families, and pets as their biggest supports in life. Perhaps not surprisingly, youth identified their social networks—their friends and families—as important for overcoming day-to-day challenges in life after the flood (Drolet et al., 2018). Networks of relations are central to well-being.

Relationships that Change Over Time

Storied Métissage

How have your relationships to your peers and friends changed, or stayed the same?

Teri: There's a lot of people that I just, I don’t see at all, like I forget that I went to school with them, I forget that they existed, unfortunately. They just, they weren't in my friends’ group for my peers. There were actually a lot of deaths around the, I think it was the year, first, like the two years before I graduated and for two years after, we lost a lot of students. Most of them in accidents, I think there was one suicide amongst the six or so people. Which I feel made a lot of the students stay connected and stay open with their friends just having to, having lost a lot of people. I still connect with my best friend on a regular basis. Interviewer: The one in [Europe]. Teri: No, no, my other friend in [a named province in Canada], the English major one. We, I thank Snapchat for it, keeping the streak alive. So we connect on a daily basis

171

whether it's even just like a random picture of just like face palming in the middle of class or something random, just watching TV, she likes watching football or soccer. And I have very little contact with my friend in [Europe], no one knows why, he barely connects with his family. He, it was a shock to his family when he stopped connecting with me cause his mom would come to me all the time asking if I'd heard from him, how he was doing. And I had no answer and I felt bad. So I would occasionally contact him and be like, "Hey, your mom just wants to know if you're okay." And we reconnected continuously for, I think, a month when I first started going to [unintelligible 00:37:55] and then we lost contact again. So, don't get much contact with him. But funny situation, I had a crush on this guy from like Grade 7 on, I found him to be like the most attractive guy in school. He was way out of my league, he was kind of within my acquaintance group so occasionally like we'd hang out, we'd talk, like we got along and everything. But we never, in school like we never hung out outside of school, we just kind of hung out in the art room with our mutual friends and stuff. And he, before … like I think it was, it was after the flood, he asked if I would design a tattoo for him cause I was, obviously we hung out in the art room a lot. So we started hanging out outside of school, we weren't in school anymore but like, outside of like where we would have seen each other. And, yeah, we're in contact on a daily basis now, we like talk to each other all the time. It's funny, I was just like, and I found out that he actually tried to ask me out one time in school but he found out that I had just started my relationship with my [partner] that later threatened to burn my house down. So, yeah, it's like you should have said something, I totally would have left him. Like he was a dick, I needed an excuse to leave. Interviewer: Now you're good friends, so that's really good. Teri: I don’t think we've seen each other since I left High River just cause he lives in [a named community in Alberta] now, but, yeah, we contact each other all the time. Interviewer: Yeah, and you don't drive so you can't just like go for a visit or anything.

172

Teri: No. And he has a full-time, he's like the general manager for a restaurant down there. So like it's very hard for him to leave work and they just opened. So he's pretty much there every day, I feel like they're just going to drag him into the ground. Interviewer: Or he'll have to book a holiday, take some time off. Teri: Every, like every once in a while, I'll get a, “my one day off this month and they call me into work” and I'm like don't go. (Teri’s Interview, 2019)

How have your relationships to your peers and friends changed, or stayed the same?

Evie: Oh, they’ve changed a lot, but I think it’s pretty normal, it’s just like you don’t really have as much in common. I don’t really drink a lot or party a lot anymore and most of my friends that left don’t do a ton of partying either, but like the people that stayed in High River, like some people, we just have nothing in common with them, they’re not … yeah, so I think that’s fine, it’s normal. Yeah, even my good friends, my relationships just changed because we don’t see each other as often so it’s normal, normal growing apart. I think it’s good for people to change. … I think it’s good to have many different friends and like I think it’s good to be the new kid and try new things, so … Interviewer: Yeah, it helps too if you’re putting yourself out there in new situations and new places if you have that sort of mindset, otherwise it’s really hard. Evie: Yeah. Well I think I’ve always been kind of like that, I’ve always been you’ve got to at least try something new so yeah. I still see my friends probably like twice a year for breakfast or dinners and stuff, but I don’t know, some of them will go and party in [the neighbouring province] and stuff and I’m like I don’t really prioritize that. It just seems expensive and I can spend my money in other ways. (Evie’s Interview, 2019)

How have your relationships to your peers and friends changed, or stayed the same?

Dawn: Yeah, definitely changed. Like I don’t talk to half the people I used to and honestly, I expected it. I had a moment I remember. I think I was like in grade nine and I was like wow, like after high school I’m never going to talk to this person ever again. Like I’m never going to see these people ever again and I was like chill, you’re in grade nine, you still have four years with them [laughs]. But I remember having that

173

memory. But I’m – I still have like probably like five friends, like three really close ones from high school. Otherwise like I couldn’t be bothered and other people couldn’t be bothered, you know, too so why? Why bother, you know. But the relationships I have now with the people from high school like they’re the closest I’ve ever had. So like Janie got married. Like I was her maid of honour. And Janie, she just finished her feels like ten years at [university] but she – yeah. Yeah. So yeah, that’s just a few. Yeah, just a few. Of course, everyone leaves. Like my other best friend went to [another country]. She’s – Interviewer: Wow. Dawn: She got deported so she’s back now but yeah [laughs]. Interviewer: That’s wild [laughs]. Dawn: Yeah. But she’s adventurous like that. I am not. I am very Type A. I like lists and things to be like clean and neat you know what I mean [laughs]. Interviewer: Your place is – yeah – Dawn: I just don’t – Interviewer: – it’s immaculate in here [laughs]. Dawn: We’ll say OCD. I don’t know. Everyone has their quirks, I guess [laughs]. Interviewer: It’s not a bad thing. I think people balance each other out too. Like if you have friends that are like – Dawn: Yeah. Interviewer: – more adventurous and you’re – Dawn: Yeah. And my one – Interviewer: – more grounded and … [laughs] Dawn: – actually almost – probably majority of the friends that I’m still – it’s so embarrassing. Interviewer: It’s so sweet [laughs]. Dawn: I’m friends with they’re very extroverted. So they – like they will – like they’ll go out together or whatever and invite me and if I’m not feeling it, I’m not feeling it and they respect that which is good. (Dawn’s Interview, 2019)

How have your relationships to your peers and friends changed, or stayed the same?

174

Quinn: I don’t really talk to a lot of the kids I graduated with to be honest. I had my kid and kind of we went on our own different paths. I do talk to some of them I’ve kind of reconnected with over the years. (Quinn’s Interview, 2019)

How have your relationships to your peers and friends changed, or stayed the same?

Gina: For a little while there was maybe one person but then, even then, just, I moved and I kind of, partially my fault I just, you know, kind of wanted to have a clean break. So I haven't really talked to anybody. (Gina’s Interview, 2019)

How have your relationships to your peers and friends changed, or stayed the same?

Michelle: There’s a group of probably six to eight of us that are still really close, and we talk nearly every day in like a group chat. And then there’s other ones that- nothing bad happened, it’s just life goes different ways and we don’t talk much. So yeah, some closer, some less close, I guess. But they’re still good. Interviewer: Anything in particular with the ones that aren’t in the group anymore, or haven’t stayed as much in touch? Would you say it’s people that have moved away or they’re here or –? Michelle: Yeah, a lot moved away, and some that are in [the neighbouring province] that you just slowly lose contact with, you go from talking every month to every couple of months, and then it’s a couple of years. Yeah, mostly distance I think, and then I think when people get older they find a bit more of their own niche and what their interests are, and it just kind of just is different. (Michelle’s Interview, 2019)

How have your relationships to your peers and friends changed, or stayed the same?

Teresa: I’m not friends with anyone from high school or like that time period. I think most of it’s just from growing up and doing your own things and just not becoming friends but I don’t really have time for BS, I guess. Like my best friend during high school and after the flood and stuff for a few years, she was just not there for me and I always had to make the first move to hang out or do anything with her so it was kind of like, I’m just going to stop talking to you and see what happens, and I’ve never heard from her since. So I just don’t have time for that. If you want to be in my life, you’ll be there. I’m going to go live it over here. I don’t know, I’m just

175

going to keep moving on and I think from the flood I was able to see that you have to just keep moving on. You can’t let people or anything hold you back. Teresa: I mean I have them on social media and stuff and if I see them, I’m not going to not say hi to them but, I don’t know, we’re all just kind of doing our own thing. Lots of my friends from High River have moved far away or, I don’t know, just done their own things and I’m okay with that. Yeah. (Teresa’s Interview, 2019)

How have your relationships to your peers and friends changed, or stayed the same?

Ron: I would say they more or less have stayed the same. We have a group chat called the [chat name] and it was created when the flood happened because then we’d have a group chat called between all of us. And there used to be about ten of us in the group and the group chat still exists but everyone’s kind of thought of it in separate ways now or like in small groups but I’m like – every so often you get a text or something pops up in the [chat name] and it’s weird things like now it’s [more than six] years ago and for whatever reason that group chat was made just to make sure we’re all still alive and kicking around. There was a – am I allowed to say names? Interviewer: You can, yeah. I’ll, yeah, scrub them out anyway so yeah. Ron: There was a rumour going around for a while that like [student’s name] was missing or something and then obviously that spread. So before you even knew like you’re like getting text being like [the student] died and like that was weird because you know, it’s someone you kind of grown up with. And then no one could get a hold of my cousin is … younger than we are, but no one could get a hold of him so same thing. Like you have texts because it is not a very big high school if you think about it and so everyone’s messaging like has anyone seen [student’s name], no one’s heard from him and that was extra weird for me because I’m – you know, so then I’m trying to phone my own family to see if anyone has heard from him. Interviewer: Right. Ron: But I would say that after that relationships more or less I would say are the same but it is still – like it’s definitely a topic of conversation for us just to kind of like – something to BS about whenever you bring – like if … My one friend for example she grew up in [a neighbouring province] and she came over, said that we’re all just

176

kind of talking about it, like telling stories of it back and forth, she said like that. I would say it’s more just a topic of conversation now. Interviewer: Yeah. Sorry, did you say what happened to [student’s name]? Ron: Oh, yeah, he was fine. I don’t know – Interviewer: Oh, he was fine. Okay. Ron: Yeah, yeah. No, he was fine [laughs]. Interviewer: I thought – my hearing’s a little bad. I thought you said he died [laughs]. Ron: Oh, no. Yeah, it – well, because that’s what – Interviewer: That was the rumour. Ron: I think the report said he was missing or they couldn’t find him. Like someone – you know how they were saying like if anyone’s seen this person because the phone lines were down and then I think that was just like a telephone effect of people checking with each other until it finally got like [student’s name] is dead. But no, he was fine. I don’t know where he was but – Interviewer: Okay. Well, that’s good. I’m glad he’s fine [laughs]. Geez, yeah. So did you feel that like the social media helped or made like … Helped as far as like communication between people around that time like or …? Ron: Yeah. Interviewer: Okay. Or was it problematic? Ron: Yeah. Interviewer: Just a little of both maybe? Ron: Yeah. I mean this is obviously you could contact people but then obviously like – but no one’s really – only has a bit of information, stuff like that and slowly start spreading really quickly (Ron’s Interview, 2019)

How have your relationships to your peers and friends changed, or stayed the same?

Val: Yeah. I don’t know about anything salient there other than I feel I held onto that [partner] for too long, because he was a bit of, he came to [a named community in Alberta] as well and he was like a security blanket, like yeah, so I think that. And then once, yeah, once that ended it was like… breathe, a sigh of relief, it was … yeah, he was definitely just a security blanket, which is awful to say, because he

177

deserved more than that, but … yeah. And then I feel like I’ve outgrown those High River friends … And it was … which is, I don’t know, odd considering we spent or like we bonded through that event, but then it was like, it was this intense bonding and then two months of nothing, because we couldn’t see each other and then grad was at the end of August, but some people had already left for University … Yeah. And I wonder if that summer or those friendships might’ve lasted longer had we had that summer, I don’t know. Yeah … And I relate, I don’t know if, like my university friends better, relate to them more, I don't know. I don't know if any of them have gone through a natural disaster … Probably, I don’t think so, I feel like, but yeah. I don’t feel like the flood defines me as a person. Interviewer: No. No, and it's not meant to be like the – Val: No. Interviewer: - like it's, even for this research topic, like its part, but it’s not the only story, like I feel like I could almost ask the exact same questions with less flood, about like what other students who have graduated from high school, their life transition is like – Val: Mm-hmm. Interviewer: - because I’m really interested in that as well. Like you talked about hanging onto the [partner] and having him move with you, was he going to school too or did he – Val: Yeah. Interviewer: - just follow you there? Val: No, he was – Interviewer: Okay. Val: - well a little bit of both – Interviewer: A bit of both. Val: Yeah … Super nice guy. Yeah … Interviewer: Yeah. And yeah … I feel like there’s a, like that there’s a little something there that I should ask about, but I don’t know what without it being too personal. – Val: I don’t care.

178

Interviewer: - like wondering … So like … like in hindsight, you say you held on too long or that he was a safety blanket. – Val: Yeah. Interviewer: - And so, just like wondering what brought you to that realization or what … yeah, what? Val: Well I … hmm, tough question … I feel like I knew pretty early on that this wasn’t … going to be a marriage and then … the flood, like the flood happened and then obviously that was, like I helped his family, he helped my family. So, then like we were both and just going though that together and then like another huge life change going to university. And then, I feel like, like I feel like I probably only held on like maybe, I don’t know for four to six months too long. Interviewer: Okay … Val: Yeah it, well it was super hard to go into university being the home body that I am and going, like he was my only friend really that was there. So, it wasn’t until, oh God I sound awful, it was until I made other friends that I kind of realized … not that I didn't need him, but that I didn't want – Interviewer: That relationship anymore, yeah. Val: Yeah. And I was like, okay I can, I am okay to do this on my own, I don't, you don't need him to be your security blanket, because A, that’s not fair to him or to you. Yeah. (Val’s Interview, 2019)

Generative Dialogue

I remember hearing about all of those deaths in the first year or two after the flood.

Mostly accidents, some involving substance use, and one suicide. It was a lot of tragedy for one

community to handle, especially after, and potentially owing to, the disaster.

Buffalo the Gifted: It sounds as though the funerals brought people together, creating bonds over loss…after loss…after loss.

Those stories are part of the reason I began this work. I worried for the youth who experienced

the disaster and wondered what was sustaining them in their lives after.

179

Bear the Historian: For some of the youth who connected over the group chat during the flood, the seeds were sewn for more long term relationships. They formed channels of communication that they keep returning to over time, solidifying those friendships.

During the interviews, I worried for the participants who said that they cut ties, or needed a clean break, specifically when they assumed the blame for not having their past friendships carry

forward. Not that everyone needs to keep their friends from high school, but I do think that

everyone needs friends of some kind.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: Looking inward, many of the youth chose to let go of the relationships that did not support or promote their well-being. Others became closer with the people with whom they had loving and respectful relationships.

Thunder Being the Messenger: For the youth who have maintained some of their friendships from high school, they spoke about them as treasured connections, as though the changes in their lives had somehow made certain relationships stronger. Choosing to stay connected after graduation requires effort and demonstrates your respect for that person—they likely will feel appreciated.

Eagle: Relationships are also in a state of flux. Some will strengthen with time; others will fade away. It is a naturally occurring part of life. We seek out relationships and connections that support our well-being. As our needs and interests change, so do our friendships.

So is true of our romantic relationships.

Some grow stronger with time, while others run their course.

Some people grow together, while others grow apart.

180

Bear the Historian: Usually I am the one using the planting metaphors… Relationships, romantic or otherwise, need tending. Sustaining a relationship can require patience, and constant care to flourish.

Meaning-Making

There is a lot of variation in how the relationships of youth change over time. Some friends grow together and some grow apart. A few participants noted that their priorities and interests changed with time, as did their circles of friends. Most seemed okay with the fluidity of their changing peer groups.

The youth who described the ways they stayed in touch with their peers fondly acknowledged how those bonds had strengthened since high school. Many of the participants made decisions about their friendships based on how they supported or hindered their well-being.

As Teresa put it, “I think from the flood I was able to see that you have to just keep moving on.

You can’t let people or anything hold you back” (Interview, 2019).

After the flood, some participants noted that they had stayed in their romantic relationships longer than they had thought they would. Having just helped each other, and each other’s families through the flood, it became harder to let the relationships go. This was amplified for a couple who then moved to a new city together for school. Being in the relationship provided support, comfort, and familiarity during a time of many changes; as it turned out, these condition-specific benefits for staying together did not sustain the relationship in the long term.

Deaths in the years following the flood also brought people together, and may have kept those connections stronger for a time, while friends and family members leaned on each other for support.

181

Relationships to Place

Storied Métissage

How has your relationship to High River changed over time, if at all?

Zak: Good question. I think might have been me personally but I feel like I’ve had a really tough time like settling anywhere kind of. I mean I was born in High River and like parents and my grandparents like they’re all kind of those weird old people who never leave. So I think it was like for me that kind of getting movement from the town and then moving to [the city] for school and then moving back on summers and stuff like that like I just feel like I haven’t quite ever – like High River’s home to me but it doesn’t necessarily feel like home all the time anymore which is weird. So I guess for a while I always kind of feel like I’ve never quite settled back into home or a home, I guess. Not that it was not [unintelligible 00:10:21] about my home. Yeah, just there’s a weird feeling to it. Like it doesn’t feel like I’m settled down anywhere ever. … Zak: Yeah. I think that – like I touched on this earlier. It’s still home to me but it doesn’t really kind of feel like home the same way. You know, we were very – I think it’s just that you graduate, right, and then I think it was just weird timing because obviously, the flooding started rather fast. So your memory of growing up and your memory of school really is how it was before and then for a while it was like you would come home on Christmas and you’d come home on summers but it didn’t really get fixed right away. Like it got fixed quite quickly but you could still see the gaps because I remember like me and my friends walking to Wallaceville probably a year after it got bulldozed and it was just like it was weird because things seemed different in a way. There was new buildings and stuff like that and some of the old things weren’t there anymore, but then there was also you could still tell like – I feel like for a while there was almost an eerie feeling in the town and it was like you knew it wasn’t quite the same and especially like I remember was walking to … I remember walking – or no, not Wallaceville. Beechwood, right, I’m thinking of, with the big,

182

giant rich houses. I remember walking through there. There’s everything abandoned, windows smashed in and stuff and it’s like you felt you were in a ghost town and it didn’t feel like it was the place you’ve grown up in. It was odd. So I mean now it still feels like home when I – especially being in [another country overseas] definitely get homesick, but it doesn’t – I wouldn’t say there’s the same feeling of home as before it happened. But I think with us too graduating, you know, you’ve done school and there was this expectation that everyone is going to move so you knew things were going to change but [laughs] no one really knew that it would change all at once. Interviewer: Yeah. Yeah, that’s for sure. That’s – yeah. No. I write – I have written a little bit about that about the town about like how after the flood you kind of hold the memory of what was there before and then – Zak: Yeah. Absolutely. Interviewer: – like where other people that you know weren’t here before don’t know sort of what’s been lost. Like you know, what houses have been taken down or businesses that haven’t come back, that sort of thing. So yeah, I totally – Zak: Or like the tent structures too, right? I kind of forgot about them actually until we’re just talking about it. You know, seeing tent structures downtown and the temporary shelters were built kind of by Aldersyde built like that. I guess just like places on the weekend too you know when you were like 15, approaching 15, I mean you just go to the movies and walk to the Co-op, visit the coffee shop, just stuff like that and you no longer – I mean the movie theatre came back and – actually, might be back this year actually but just not having it there for a while and you come home was weird. Like memories were there but they weren’t there because the structure wasn’t there anymore or wasn’t quite back. Interviewer: Yeah, for sure. Yeah, it kind of messes with you a bit [laughs]. Zak: Yeah, more so – like much more than I thought it would. (Zak’s Interview, 2019)

How has your relationship to High River changed over time, if at all?

Wendy: My relationship with? Interviewer: To High River, to the town.

183

Wendy: Oh, I love it. I love High River. After graduation, I moved back to the city because I’m from the city. I was raised here until I was 11, then we moved out to High River and I thought I missed the city. I thought I missed all my friends in the city and so I moved back when I graduated but I spent [a number of] months and I couldn’t do it anymore and I went back, moved back with the kids. Interviewer: I feel the same way. I have that connection – Wendy: The small town is just a lot better for the kids. We were living in [an urban neighbourhood] too so not a great area at all. That could have made me hate the city too. (Wendy’s Interview, 2019)

How has your relationship to High River changed over time, if at all?

Jenny: I grew up there, yeah, like I think we moved there like all, I don't know, I was probably [young] when we moved there, [a young age]. So I went to school with all the same people my entire life, so. Interviewer: So that kind of brings me – I think I missed a question and that's why I'm going to come back to it because it fits this very moment. How has your relationship to High River changed over time or if at all? Jenny: I, it'll always be my hometown, I just don’t think I'll ever want to live there again. Yeah, like it's my home but I can't be there anymore. Interviewer: And is that specifically because of the flood? Jenny: I think a lot of it is because of the flood, maybe a little bit because of other things. But I think a lot of it is because of that. Interviewer: Would you feel comfortable sharing any of the other reasons why or …? Jenny: I think one of the other reasons is I don't want to be near my dad. He lives just outside of High River. I get along with him to a point and then not at all, so. It's kind of, it's easier to be away from him, a whole province over. (Jenny’s Interview, 2019)

How has your relationship to High River changed over time, if at all?

Tammy: I don’t know if … not a ton. I mean, I feel like I probably sound like a lot of elderly people in this town when they say the parking downtown is just a nightmare now, it’s really annoying, so it’s irritating that way and then I think … like on my uncle’s street they ripped up the road since then I think three times fixing stuff, like because

184

water companies couldn’t get along with like electricity and like … it’s annoying [laughs]. So it just seems unorganized, but I mean they made it look good so that’s [laughs] … that’s a plus. Interviewer: It’s positive. Tammy: Yeah. It just seems like they could’ve done a little bit more planning, or like practicality, not just the looks of it but … I mean they didn’t really expect it to happen so ... Interviewer: Yeah. Tammy: Can’t really … Yeah. Can’t be too harsh, I guess. (Tammy’s Interview, 2019)

How has your relationship to High River changed over time, if at all?

Natasha: My parents are still there. I think my relationship has changed like in a normal way, like I’m not very close to High River because I live in Calgary and my life’s in Calgary. And the first few years of university of I still worked for the [local business] on weekends so I would still go back and I was still like involved in High River, but now I like totally work up here and don’t really go back as often. I still like High River, though, like I think it’s a nice spot as far as like proximity to Calgary, the mountains. I don’t know if it’s negative. The only negative that I have with High River is the same negatives as with any small town, like just that there’s people doing jobs that they might not be qualified for but they’ve just been doing them forever. [Laughs] You know? Interviewer: Yeah. Natasha: But that’s just from working for the town so there’s people that have been doing something for a very long time but they’re maybe not the best person for it, but because everybody knows them, but that’s I guess a small town thing, that’s not really a High River-specific thing. Like maybe one day I might move back to either High River or Okotoks, like it’s not out of the picture, like I don’t see myself living in Calgary for the rest of my life. Yeah, I don’t feel angry. I like High River, I think it’s like nice to town—it’s cute, it’s old. Interviewer: Are there things that you like about it, or appreciate about it, still there?

185

Natasha: Most of them. I like the river, I like the area by the river where you can ride your bike. I like River Road – that area is nice. I used to have friends that lived out there so we’d like play there. … Natasha: No, I think the things I still like about High River are still there. Mostly I like about High River is like the water, and then nature. A lot of like the prairie towns don’t have the big trees which you get from being close to the river, so it’s nice. (Natasha’s Interview, 2019)

How has your relationship to High River changed over time, if at all?

Autumn: I don’t like it there anymore. Growing up, it was very great. You could stop at anyone’s house if you felt unsafe walking. It was a really safe place to live. You knew everybody. It was a great place growing up and then after the flood, the mayor now is amazing. He has done awesome stuff for the town. I think that it was just too much for me, I guess, and there was a lot of things that were changed and taken and whatever. I don’t know, it’s just not the same as what it used to be I guess. But I still love it. My dad lives there so I see my dad all the time and we go for dinner and stuff there but I’m over it. I’m definitely over High River. Yes. (Autumn’s Interview, 2019)

How has your relationship to High River changed over time, if at all?

Aisha: I don’t know. So, I didn’t, in writing all of this out … I kind of realized that maybe I do have an issue that could’ve either been amplified from the flood or it just was there, it was going to be there regardless. But I … I personally have like, hmm, we call it like a displacement issue, like nowhere quite feels like home … I don’t know if that’s a common theme you’ve been hearing, but like … Like my parents’ home doesn’t quite feel like home and then nowhere in [the named city in Alberta] quite felt like home and then, yeah. Crap I told myself I wasn’t going to cry. Aisha: Mm-hmm. I just thought it was interesting, like I knew, like I have always had the displacement issues, like since I very, the first year I moved out for University, it was really bad, I was very sad, but even now … so I don’t know. I’m hoping it goes away somewhere feels like home eventually. … But yes.

186

Aisha: Yes, absolutely. I have like a wonderful family, like no home life issues. It’s just like I don’t, yeah. Interviewer: And so, leaving there has been the hardest – Aisha: Yeah. Interviewer: - but then going back – Aisha: Yeah. But going back doesn’t any longer feel like it’s my [home] Interviewer: My home you left, yeah. Aisha: Which is I’m assuming just part of like that too, so … I’ve outgrown it obviously and I wrote that it definitely no longer feels like home. I wondered though … I feel like that’s probably more due to the fact that it has changed so much, like from renos and everything, because yeah. I mean it was cool to go back in P&H, but like this isn’t the P&H that I know. Yeah … Interviewer: Yeah. Aisha: I don’t know, I don't, like my family still lives there, so I go back, but … yeah, definitely feel like I’ve outgrown it. (Aisha’s Interview, 2019)

How has your relationship to High River changed over time, if at all?

Heather: I don't visit much, mostly just cause I don’t have a car. But I left on kind of a bad note with my ex, we were engaged so when, and it was an abusive relationship. Our, we just like didn't, I don’t want to say, like I never say that like he was abusive. Like he was abusive to me but I feel like I was probably abusive to him in his own right type thing. Cause we just are, the way that we were, I guess, just didn't mesh. So he obviously being very upset and having some anger problems, had threatened that if I had stayed in High River that he would find where I lived and burn my house down. So after I left High River, I went back to [a neighbouring community] to move in with my friend for two weeks until I could move to Calgary cause it was two weeks before the end of June when I moved, so it was, yeah. So we put all my stuff into storage and I lived with my friend for two weeks while I was working. And I remember while I was working we went, I worked in High River so I went out to lunch with one of my friends when she was working, we went to the hitching post and I remember like the fear of running into my ex there.

187

So I, it's not much to do with the flood, it's more to do with what I left behind from High River. I still, anytime I go there I love going to [a local restaurant] and seeing my little [local restaurant] family, to see what has and hasn't changed since the flood. Cause I think the last time I was there they still had the big berms up down at the very end of like the main drag going into the campgrounds and [named local area], whatever that, where the boys like to go off-roading. And the library was still in like the pop-up tent for like the longest time. It was kind of like a really cool space, but it was just weird to have it there. But, it took a very long time for it to come back into being High River. When I moved in 2005 it still didn't feel like how High River was. Interviewer: 2015? Heather: Yeah. Interviewer: Okay, yeah. Heather: And so it was two years after the flood and it still, there was barely like any, barely any of the businesses that were in the downtown section were there. Colossi’s wasn't there yet which was a hang-out that all of my friends and I went to. And Evelyn's was, I think, had just gotten back. My mom's office building wasn't, had been, I think they ended up tearing it down in the end and they rebuilt. So there was a lot that it's, like still just not much was up and running when I left. So, it was, there were like obviously the businesses that had a lot of insurance and all of the big companies like Sobeys was obviously back up, they were back up really quickly. And the schools, there were a couple other places that, as if nothing happened, it was a little weird. But the other ones, eh, the transition, right, yeah. (Heather’s Interview, 2019)

How has your relationship to High River changed over time, if at all?

Beth: I love High River. Like I never ever want to leave. Like I love High River like flood or not. Like it’s such a perfect town [laughs]. Like I love everything about it. I love my job. I like my house. I like the people. Like the size, the things. Like if anything it’s just like I love it. Like my relationship is like I see like a lot of the people I went to high school with like could not wait to get the hell out of High River and I’m like why [laughs]? But yeah, now I think it’s gotten more – like I’ve gotten almost more

188

obsessed with it so to speak. Like I’ve really like grown to love it even more since high school just like I guess maybe maturing a bit to appreciate what it has to offer because it has like everything [laughs]. Like I don’t know, yeah. Interviewer: What sort of things that are most dear to you about it? Beth: I love the people here. Like I love – because I get to interact with them every day, right? Especially with their animals, right? So I’m a big animal lover. I love like every dog that walks by. You know, like the small shops, like the local – like it’s just so small and I hate – like whenever I go to the city I’m like who the hell would want to live here? Like who would want – even [a named neighbouring community]. Like I don’t – I didn’t – I lived on an acreage in [a named neighbouring community] so it wasn’t bad but like High River’s the perfect size, I feel like. And you have everything you need. Like literally everything [laughs]. Interviewer: It’s totally what attracted us here too is like – Beth: Yeah. Interviewer: – you know, it’s such a quaint place and you can walk places and get to things. Beth: Yeah. Yeah, like every morning I just walk to the dog park with him and he’s good for the – you know. I can take him to daycare. I can’t say it too loud because he’ll shit himself [laughs]. And yeah, like everyone knows everyone. I like that too. Like the people at work joke. I’ve been almost exactly – just over a year now and like I know a lot of like the ranchers and farmers. So when they come in with [animals] like I’ll know the [animal]’s name before their name and they make fun of me at work all the time just because like I know every [animal] in Alberta apparently [laughs]. No, I – yeah, just knowing everyone. I’m very introverted so like I’m not – I don’t like seek out knowing people but like I like getting to know people if that makes sense. So yeah, that’s why I’m – I think that’s also why it made it easier transitioning into like being alone so to speak like yeah [laughs]. (Beth’s Interview, 2019)

Generative Dialogue

Bear the Historian: Places within the town hold memories (Cruikshank, 1990; Markides, 2020b).

When those places are gone, they can take the memories with them.

189

You can hear that in the stories of some of the participants, where High River doesn’t feel

like the same town they grew up in. Some neighbourhoods are completely gone. Businesses too.

Thunder Being the Messenger: Your listening might have validated Zak’s experience of loss, especially in relation to the physical places of his childhood memories. The absence is discernable, but can be far from tangible for those who have not gone through it. How might the memories be reclaimed from the rubble? Or have they been permanently washed away?

I hope that I reaffirmed Zak’s experience, as it was strikingly similar to my own.

Bear the Historian: For some youth, their relationships with people have changed. Community is situated in place. When relationships within the community change, so too can the relationships to place.

For some, it has pushed them away. For others, it has brought them back.

There are also those who feel that they don’t have those connections anywhere. That worries me.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: It sounds like Natasha has made more of a spiritual connection with the area. She has a relationship with the more-than-human world—to the water and to the trees. Returning to a place is different when the place feeds your soul.

Buffalo the Gifted: Relationships that do not foster a sense a safety can also push people away from a place. The distance can allow them to feel stronger in themselves.

Their experiences and relationships are so varied.

Eagle: The world is in an everchanging state of flux (Little Bear, 2000, 2016). Change in the town has always been a constant; businesses and people come and go; the rate of change increased significantly due to the flood. So much change can be jarring. Changes to place, coupled with discontent or rupture in one or more of the following areas: emotional, relational,

190 intellectual, and physical well-being, can result in significant moves to repair, rebuild, re- establish, reconcile, re-invigorate, or relocate one’s life.

Meaning-Making

Like any relationship, the participants’ relationships to the town have grown and evolved over time. The town has changed significantly from what it was before the flood. Touchstones of stories and memories that the places held may be gone forever (Cruikshank, 1990; Strong-

Wilson, 2008). None of the participants talked about the facades in the downtown (Markides,

2020b), but several noted that the town was not the same as how they remembered it from their childhoods. The flood brought a lot of change all at once. For the youth who graduated during the 2013 flood, the stories and memories of the flood will forever be associated with their connections to High River. It is in some ways unifying for those who lived here through the event. Conversely, it can be difficult for other people to understand that the ethos of the town changed in a day.

For the youth who were transitioning from life-in-schools to life-out-of-schools at the time of the flood, the changes in the town amplified the choice they had to stay or go.

Shifting Priorities: Advice to Their Younger Selves and Youth

Storied Métissage

I had my first AHA! moment of the study part way through the first interview.

Victoria: We didn’t think that we’d get any water because like it’s flooded bad before but like we’re so far away from the river. So that night, actually I went to where I was keeping my [animals] which was at my best friend’s [place] at the – they were there just outside of [the town] and like I would go over like all the time. Like even when Jan wasn’t home I’d like go there for dinner kind of thing. So, I would just – like I just – I remember I took – like I was dressed. I put my straightener in my bag and like – and went there for the night and I didn’t leave for like a month I think or so.

191

The most important thing to take was a straightener. I wonder how many other girls in high school grabbed their straighteners?

Victoria: Yes. I had my birthday there and my sister was staying with someone in [the neighbouring town] and my parents were staying with their friends outside of [a different town]. So, we were all kind of separated but yeah. So that’s the story I tell the most is probably like I just literally took my straightener and went there because I always wear [Jan’s] pyjamas and you know.

Later in the interview, Victoria offered the following advice to other youth:

Victoria: Yeah. Like just don’t – stop caring what other people think because in high school I did a lot. Like I used to like straighten my hair every single day because I have like pretty much an afro and once I was like in college I was like man, who cares [laughs]. Why was that so important? And I look back now and like why was that so important? Why did you care so much [laughs]? Like it’s good to care but like who cares that much. But it's a high school thing I bet like just to – Interviewer: Yeah, I imagine. Victoria: – a school thing, yeah. (Victoria’s Interview, 2019)

The straightener went from being Victoria’s top priority during the evacuation, to something she no longer saw as important within a few years after leaving high school. Her priorities changed. Is there anything you would have done differently if you could have?

Victoria: I don’t think so. I literally did everything I wanted to do. Interviewer: That’s amazing. It’s so amazing [laughs]. Victoria: Like everything I wanted to do. Like I wanted to get my [occupational credentials]. I wanted to – like I’ve done everything.

What advice would you give other youth who are facing life after disaster?

Victoria: It’s okay. Like it’s going to be good [laughs]. Like even – yeah, it’s going to – it might not seem like it’s going to be fine but it’s going to be fine like 100 percent because like living upstairs in the living room like it felt like the worst ever like but it totally like gets better. I know it’s so cliché but everything gets better [laughs].

192

Interviewer: Good. That’s good. That’s so good to hear like you know, that you’re – that that was your experience and that – Victoria: Yeah. I mean if you work hard like you’ll get anything. Like anything. (Victoria’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything you wish you could have told yourself six years ago about how these last six years would go?

Alicia: Yeah, I don’t know. What would I tell me? Probably not to stress too much about figuring everything out. Some people are 30 and they still don’t know what they’re going to do. Yeah, probably just to enjoy things a little more. That’s silly, but just enjoy being like young and dumb a little more. I think I always put too much pressure on myself, I made myself too strict and I kind of missed out on some things, so just to … Interviewer: What kind of things? I’m being nosy. Alicia: Just like some – Like I was really into sports, like [a competitive sport], and I took that very seriously, and I wouldn’t go like see my friends hardly any weekends for like a lot of years because I was on a group to play for team Canada, and then injuries take over and then that kind of gets taken away, and then you’re like, shoot, what was all that for? So just something as simple as a Sunday afternoon tube down the river where I was training. So I wish I had taken things a little bit more relaxed. Interviewer: That’s some good advice. Alicia: Yeah. But I mean at the time that was important to me, so. You couldn’t tell me to go and just go have fun. Interviewer: Yeah, would you have listened to yourself? Alicia: No. [Laughs]. I would say, “Eff off”. Yeah. Interviewer: That’s a lot of maturity. What else? We’re flying through these, truthfully. Is there anything that you would’ve done differently if you could, in the last six years? Alicia: I mean, just like what I was saying there, about maybe just relaxing a little more and having more fun. But I wouldn’t say I regret any of it to wish I did it differently, but like probably would see things differently now. Interviewer: Cool, yeah.

193

Alicia: I guess just make more time for friends that would probably be it. Throughout university I maybe should’ve tried to open my breadth, like open my scope a little more to things, like maybe different volunteering opportunities or just getting my foot in the door in other areas. Like I studied so far away that I don’t really have many connections here, so it would’ve been good to just kind of just get my foot in the door in other ways. (Alicia’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything you wish you could have told yourself six years ago about how these last six years would go?

Fiona: Yeah, I mean, I would have, like it's going to get really, really hard but then it's going to get really, really, really, really, really a lot better. You're actually going to be happy and feel settled, so, like you can get through it. Interviewer: Is there anything that you would have done differently if you could? Fiona: No, I think the way everything played out, I wouldn't change it. … Fiona: Oh, man. I think you, when you see all of your stuff being thrown out you realize that that doesn't really matter. And you should just be happy that you're alive and everybody else is alive. (Fiona’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything you wish you could have told yourself six years ago about how these last six years would go?

Tyler: I would say not to stress out too much because I mean at the end of the day really a lot of things isn’t that big of a deal. After school – I think I told you that I was not the greatest student in high school but like I wasn’t bad but I just like a lot of times I didn’t put a lot of effort into things and I think actually after high school until I got everything I made like kind of a big commitment to do better, I guess. And then so I graduated but I guess in university I remember like I just stressed myself out so bad in university. You know, it’s how do you get good grades – studying night and day, oh my God. And then I graduated. I was awarded valedictorian in my graduating class – Interviewer: Congratulations.

194

Tyler: – and then – great. So then the thing I would tell 18 year old me is like – because that was a goal for me, I guess, and I stressed. I’ll talk about it now like it really didn’t matter, almost nothing. Like you could have taken it much easier and not like – not worry yourself so much. Everything’s kind of – kind of works out, I guess. Interviewer: Would you have listened to yourself? Tyler: Probably not, no. Probably still would have overstressed myself about everything. Interviewer: I think that’s true of all of us [laughs]. Is there – Tyler: It’s always easier looking back and …

Is there anything you would have done differently if you could have?

Tyler: Maybe – I shouldn’t say maybe. If I could have done things differently, I would have either taken a year off right out of high school and not found a school right away or after that first year I maybe would have – I would take off that year for a gap year. I think if I could do anything different, I think that’s the thing. I think I just wasn’t quite ready. Well, not I wasn’t ready. I certainly knew what I wanted to do. So I think when I went after a year then I felt like I was meant to be here but I’ve gotten this far anyways and then after two years it’s like you got two years, may as well finish. I just kept kind of having that mentality. Then once I got done I was like yeah, probably should have, you know, taken a break earlier and sat down and figured out what it is I wanted. Interviewer: That’s really wise, wise thinking. Tyler: Yeah [laughs] hindsight.

What advice would you give other youth who are facing life after disaster?

Tyler: Like it sounds cliché but I would say that like life kind of goes on. You know, it’s not – like it’s not okay but you know, if bad stuff happens. Like houses can be rebuilt, things can be repurchased and stuff like that. Like it’s not the end of the world although it might – like I’m sure it feels like that. Like I told you, I was quite lucky but it’s all the people that didn’t, right? It’s not – like nothing to kind of give up over. Like you got to keep moving forward and put it behind you. (Tyler’s Interview, 2019)

195

Is there anything you wish you could have told yourself six years ago about how these last six years would go?

Kelly: Nothing will go as you think it will go, like it’s not happening. Yeah, I don’t know what I would tell myself because I really didn’t expect any of this. I never thought I’d do an advanced degree, I never thought I’d do something like that. I didn’t think I’d get married young and I did that. It’s like all these things I was like no. Interviewer: What did you see for yourself? What did you imagine? Kelly: I thought I would be like travelling around. I thought I might actually be a [named occupation]. I wasn’t sure because that’s why I started in open studies. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to quite commit to that workload, you know, because I knew I could do it but I’d have to like really put in the time and I didn’t know if I wanted to … Because I really like skiing and I wasn’t sure if I would be able to like work all weekend do like seven-day weeks because I knew if I wanted to be a [named occupation] I’d have to like die for it. So that’s why [my specified program] is great because it’s like enough Science, enough Math that it kind of sticks all together. I didn’t really have any like set-in-stone plans. Most of the things I thought I would do I’m doing, like I thought I’d be travelling around doing things in nature, and that’s pretty much what I’m doing. I’ve definitely had more opportunities than I think I thought I would have. Interviewer: How so? Kelly: Just like little random trips have come up, like in [a named country] one of my friends was from [a city in Mexico], like we’d go to – like a bunch of us met in [a city in Mexico] the following year and like I never thought I’d go to [a city in Mexico] and stay in somebody’s house in [a city in Mexico], like that was really fun. And then I got to go to like [named continent], which I never really thought would come up, but like this group of students that were going and it just worked out. Interviewer: Going for school or just like a trip? Kelly: Just like a trip, like humanitarian type work. We were like in a refugee camp which was something also like … I mean I always kind of knew if the opportunity came I’d go for it. Also, I got to go to like [a volcanic island] with [my specified program],

196

and like that was when it was like erupting, and so we were in a helicopter and I got to study like an active flow which was something I never thought would come … We had a like a work trip to [a city in the United States (U.S.)] so then we went like camping around [a well-known mountain] which was like also … It’s just like different places like I never really thought about it, but … I just never thought about it but it came up. And then a funny thing, too, coming home from [named continent] [the airline] bumped me from a flight, but then I got a travel voucher, so then we ended up having – we got to go to [a major city in the U.S.] for like … Both flights were only $80 for a weekend. Interviewer: Wow. Kelly: So it’s just little things like that, like you never see it coming and you’re like I don’t know what’s going to happen, like I’m sure I’ll do cool things in the future but then you don’t really realize like … Like these are the opportunities, like my grandparents never had opportunities like that, it’s like it’s crazy. You don’t see it coming but then if you have a good attitude so many opportunities will present themselves and like it’s good. So I’m not where I thought I’d be, but like I’m very happy with where I’m at. Interviewer: Any other advice you’d give yourself? Kelly: I don’t know, I guess just have a good attitude and be open to things and keep saying yes when things come along. There’s a lot of really great opportunities. Even like that trip to [the volcanic island], the university paid for a big chunk of it because of the travel grants that they give you for studying abroad. Like things are – I don’t know, I really believe if you want something you can figure out a way to make it happen, and it might not be exactly what you want. Because actually the reason I went on a [named organization] exchange is because I wanted to do like [a year afloat]. I don’t know if you’ve heard of that. But my parents didn’t have the money for it and I was okay, that’s valid, I guess you don’t have 40 grand for me to go. Like, fine I understand. [Laughter] So then I found [named organization] and [named organization] was like it’s basically free, you just pay for your flight and then like I could actually pay for that with like [my job] money, like it was really

197

doable if you just like try. So that is all I really needed to do was apply and it was just like cool. Interviewer: It is awesome. Kelly: I don’t really think about these things when I’m talking to somebody, and I’m not like a person that’s very good at telling stories so I don’t really like tell stories to other people, it just comes out [whispers] [unintelligible 00:29:47] [laughter]. I don’t know.

What advice would you give other youth who are facing life after disaster?

Kelly: I don’t know how to say this, right, but it’s not your whole identity, a disaster. I think that’s something important. It’s like victim mentality, or victim something. I know a few people like that, where it’s like they’ve had some traumatic incident happen and it’s horrible, and it should never happen, but it’s all they can fixate on. And it’s like at any time something goes wrong they always go back, like oh it’s because this and this, and everything’s wrong. And it’s like things that are wrong happen and they’re horrible, and you need to like acknowledge it and like deal with it, but I don’t think you should like always go back to it. Like it’s a part of you, and if you want it to it can make you stronger and more resilient in the future, but it doesn’t have to be like a crutch or something like that; I don’t know if that’s … Does that make sense? (Kelly’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything you would have done differently?

Gina: Not had children. Interviewer: At all or right away? Sorry – Gina: A long time. Yeah, I would have waited. I would have done this all first, like the schooling and stuff, I would have done it first. Interviewer: Yeah, there’s that. Another level of complexity, having them and then trying to go to school, for sure. Gina: Yeah and then studying and stuff. Yeah, it’s fun.

What advice would you give other youth who are facing life after disaster?

Gina: It does get better. Honestly, it does. It may take a while but you can rebuild.

198

Interviewer: So did it feel like it at the time? Gina: No. Interviewer: What were the worse things? You don’t have to go into detail I guess, but were there particular things that you like struggled with? Like losing things or just I guess being at home for your family, was there was anything that was particularly challenging through that time? Gina: It would have definitely been like losing things. I was completely fine. I knew going into my house that we were lucky it was standing and when we went downstairs, you could tell … we only got sewer backup in our house. We didn’t have any overland flooding and when you walked downstairs, you could smell the sewage and stuff and you could see all your stuff. You’re like, oh it’s not that bad. But then compared to other people, it’s not that bad. But the hardest thing for me was seeing my mom’s precious stuff that got destroyed. So I did Tai Kwon Do for 5 years, 6 years, 5 years, and I got my black belt and I did all that, and I saw, when we were emptying out my room, I saw my brand new uniform in the water and in the sewage and I didn’t think my mom could fix it because it’s white. But she did end up losing it and I think that was probably the hardest thing seeing was my stuff being destroyed. Interviewer: Some people at Red Cross said that the flood’s hard because you actually have to look at all your stuff, where other disasters all your things are just gone but, in a flood, you have to see it all destroyed and damaged. Gina: The one thing that my parents really struggled with was looking at everything we lost and trying to put a dollar value on a lot of it because that’s what insurance and stuff wanted was we need to get your money back but you need to tell us how much it’s worth. And you’re like, well some of that stuff it’s years old, we don’t know how much it’s worth. And you can’t find it online because they don’t make it anymore. And seeing in a list how much you actually, what got damaged or lost, was astounding. Interviewer: It’s like salt in the wound to have to go back and like list the things. As you say that, having to put a price on things is almost inhumane. So it gets better. That was your advice.

199

Gina: It does get better. (Gina’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything you wish you could have told yourself six years ago about how these last six years would go?

Bronwen: No. I think maybe through the flood, yes. Like knowing that it was going to be that bad, like bring stuff all the way upstairs, not just lift it up. But you can’t really change it so … it happened and sucked but we saved some stuff after but it was pretty gross so you can’t really save a lot. Interviewer: You might think … even if there’s a thing you think you can save it and then it grows mould later. Bronwen: Yeah, yeah, exactly, yeah. It was really nice. We had a family friend come … I have a [stuffed animal] that I’ve had since my first birthday and I take him everywhere and, I don’t know, he’s always a stuffy on my bed and so he was really badly grossly sewered and so our family friend took him, bleached him, re-stuffed him, did everything and left him in a little basket with a bunch of candy. Yeah, it was like amazing. Yeah, it was awesome. I was just thinking he was done, but no they cleaned him and it was great. It was awesome. They were great about it.

Is there anything you would have done differently?

Bronwen: No because … I mean yes it sucks that I had someone treat me terribly and cheat on me and do those things to me, but it made me leave town and if I hadn’t of left town, I probably wouldn’t have ever talked to my [partner] now. So, no, I think everything happens for a reason and the way it lined up was the way it lined up. Interviewer: So you wouldn’t go back and give yourself any advice of any kind? Bronwen: Nope. Nope, I’ve seen movies where they go back and change stuff and then the future’s different. So, nope. – Interviewer: – think about those movie things. Bronwen: Whatever is planned, it’s planned.

What advice would you give other youth who are facing life after disaster?

Bronwen: Don’t use it as a crutch. Yeah, I don’t know. I’ve met a lot of people who use other things in their life as crutches and it’s like, but you’re how old now? Get over it,

200

move on, you’re not that person, you haven’t become that person, keep going. There’s no point on dwelling on what happened or whatever. It either makes you stronger or not but don’t use it as a crutch, like years after. Someone’s mean to you. Don’t be like, well I was in the flood. Okay, well cool. Like I have no sympathy for you. That was 6 years ago. Maybe during the time, yeah, awesome. But now, it’s like no, can’t get away with that. (Bronwen’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything you wish you could have told yourself six years ago about how these last six years would go?

Kelsey: I would have told myself to ditch my terrible ex a lot sooner. It was funny cause I kept telling myself it's going to get harder to leave the longer I stay and I just never got up the courage, I guess. Interviewer: And building on that, was there anything you would have done differently if you could? Kelsey: I would have dated my high school crush. Interviewer: Nice. Kelsey: The one at the, in [named city]. Interviewer: Yes. Kelsey: I mean, everything is a part of me and has helped me become who I am today. I feel like everything's a lesson in life and I'm thankful for all the lessons I got. I just wish that I had … realized who I was earlier. Because I came out to my mom as bisexual when I was 14, that was easy. There was, I was lucky enough to have a very open family, like they didn't care. I don't think my grandparents know but they don't need to know. My mom didn't care, my dad didn't care. But … open relationships and polyamory are weird concepts for general monogamous people to understand and to get. So I actually found out that … almost as if I was something that I was born with, with the way that I am with people that it's just part of who I am. But I can, I'm a very loving person and I can love multiple people in multiple different ways and it doesn't take away from other people that I love. It's like having multiple friendships. Just because you like this person doesn't mean you have to like this person less, like you just, the hardest person is divvying

201

up your time. Like, but if I were able to understand that a lot earlier on in life I feel like it would have been more beneficial to me. I don’t know, I feel like I had a very, I grew up in a very privileged area, not like private school privileged but privileged in the aspect that my family is very open, they're very creative, I was in a safe and loving area. Whether I butted heads with my mom or not was more, that was just more, we just decided that it's better for us to be friends than for her to be my main role model in life. But … everyone's very open from where I come from. It's closed-minded in the fact that everyone's very country and I don’t get that, but … I never felt like I was at risk that I would be in danger, that someone would harm me for being who I was. And I'm very happy that that's how I grew up. So, I don't know if there's anything that I would have truly done differently. (Kelsey’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything you would have done differently, if you could have?

Alex: I don’t – No, I don’t know. I try not to think like that. I don’t think it’s good to dwell on what you could have done differently. There’s things in my life that maybe were not the best use of my time, but I learned something from it. Interviewer: That’s a very mature response. Alex: [Laughs] Yeah, there was – I don’t know. So one thing maybe I shouldn’t have done but I tried some drugs in [a specific place name], but now I’ve done that I know I won’t do that again, I learned things from it was okay. Interviewer: Yeah, that’s really honest. Alex: I’m safe, I’m good, everything’s … Interviewer: That’s good… Alex: It’s lucky, rather than good. What if something did go wrong? Interviewer: Oh I know. Alex: Yeah. Interviewer: But you learn, exactly, from those experiences so absolutely zero judgement at all. Alex: [And], I wasn’t doing heroin. It’s actually just a bit hilarious. And I did tell my parents just recently because it was funny. We were drinking and then there was no more alcohol, and when you party with people from other countries they have very different standards and the [people from another country] said, oh, when we run out

202

of alcohol we huff [aerosol body spray]. And I [told them] that’s what homeless people in Canada do. [Laughs] But I had already been drinking so I huffed [aerosol body spray] which is kind of – I think it’s kind of hilarious because it was just once, but I wouldn’t do that again, in hindsight, it is something I would have done differently. But then you learned a lesson and now I know I would never do that again, so … The mom in you is like, “No, my kids are never going [to travel]!” [Laughter] But I don’t know, it could have been a lot worse, it wasn’t heroin, but things could always be worse, it could always be better so it’s kind of take it in stride. And the adult in me also remembers the younger adult in me that also made choices, right, so … A part of growing up, you’re on your own, right, and you’re doing things, there’s not going to be an adult there all the time. Interviewer: Yeah. Alex: Well anybody that knows me would find that entertaining because it’s so out of character. (Alex’s Interview, 2019)

Is there anything you wish you could have told yourself six years ago about how these last six years would go?

Christie: All right. I’d probably tell myself not to try and be so tough and to reach out for support when you feel that you need it or … that yeah, like isn’t always great, get used to it and … yeah … embrace the bad times … because yeah, no. And then the question is, anything you would’ve done differently. and I couldn’t think of a single thing, I’m quite content with where I am in my life right now, so I wouldn’t, no. Interviewer: You wouldn’t change anything? But – Christie: No. Interviewer: - would your six years ago self have listened to that advice? Christie: Oh, definitely not. Interviewer: Okay. Would your now self take that advice? Christie: Probably not. … Christie: I don’t feel like I missed out on anything. Yeah, I don’t know –

203

Interviewer: Okay. Christie: - especially now that I have a university degree that high school diploma doesn’t; that was just sort of something I had to do. –

What advice would you give other youth who are facing life after disaster?

Christie: Reach out for support and lean on your friends … it does help to talk it out or geez, write stuff down and then you’ll connect pieces … don’t hang onto people you don’t need for security … Yeah, it will be okay. No, it doesn't feel like it now, but it will. Yeah … (Christie’s Interview, 2019)

Generative Dialogue

Bear the Historian: For the most part, the youth demonstrate an abundance of compassion in the advice they give to others. They do not downplay the losses or hardships, yet they convey an overwhelming sense of optimism from their knowledge that there will be better days to come.

From their reflections, the participants show their emotional learning from life after the flood and from life after high school.

I found myself commenting on their wisdom and maturity, again and again.

Buffalo the Gifted: The stories speak of survival and growth. Many of the youth describe the challenges and hardships as learning experiences—events that shaped their lives and made them who they are today. The gifts of experiences—good, bad, or otherwise—are not wasted.

Thunder Being the Messenger: Again, the participants expressed a lot of gratitude for the gifts of support from their families and friends, and for all of the lessons they have learned in life.

A lot of this learning seems to come from experience. Living how they want to live.

Making their own choices. Making their own mistakes. And learning.

Thunder Being the Messenger: Some of the stories are more difficult to hear, especially when it comes to unhealthy relationships, financial and familial struggles, and potentially dangerous life choices. What are you learning from your experience of listening empathetically to them?

204

Great question. My initial reactions are as a mother and educator—emotional reactions. I worry

that they have to struggle to pay rent, or choose an educational path, or find a job; let alone, try

drugs, navigate a pregnancy during high school, or leave an abusive partner.

I also hear the strength and perseverance; humility and openness.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: It can be natural to want to step into that caring role, but consider how that role might be different for you as a researcher. How might you show generosity, kindness, and care for the participants in ways that other people in their lives cannot?

I had not thought about it like that before. With storywork, I am accountable to the principles:

respect, responsibility, reciprocity, reverence, holism, inter-relatedness, and synergy.

I need to live these principles in the story gathering, as well as in the story sharing.

Eagle: Listening to the stories, it is apparent that the youth are speaking about life and living well. They consider their personal well-being and show concern for the well-being of others.

Much can be learned from their examples.

Meaning-Making

Despite living through a disaster, the youth are forward looking. They maintain a positive outlook on life and what is possible—for themselves and for others, assuring “it gets better.”

The advice they shared for themselves and others is wise: stop worrying about what other people think; relax more; don’t stress out; there’s no need to act tough, reach out for support when you need it; have some fun, but be responsible; spend time with your friends; try new things; be open to new experiences; nothing will go quite as you have planned it; go to school before you start having kids; learn from your mistakes; and look for the opportunities in your life. Many of the offerings echoed of the advice adults tend to offer youth. But regardless of who the advice was coming from—parents, teachers, peers, themselves—every participant agreed that

205 they would not have taken the advice anyway. It was interesting to note the tone and assuredness, with which the young adults all responded to the question of taking their own advice; it was as though they had unwavering determination—not willing to take advice from anyone—that might serve protective and resiliency-building functions. This might be a point for further study.

Interesting too, a few of the responses to the question asking “Would you change anything if you could?” reflected superstitious or fatalist views of life. There were leanings to both a “God’s plan” and a “cosmic destiny.” No one described being cursed, as had emerged in

Burton’s (2001) conversations with tornado victims. But, Bronwen’s response alluded to a film about the butterfly effect—where one small change can have a ripple effect on the events in one’s life. I find this to be another interesting avenue that could be explored further, as it relates to youths’ understanding and experience of agency in their lives.

Needs of Youth Post-Disaster

Storied Métissage

What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through disaster?

Interviewer: What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through disaster? Helen: A lot of financials. I’m pretty sure a lot of people in High River struggled with financials, being out of their house, still having to pay their mortgage and having to figure out now they need accommodations and all that stuff. Interviewer: And what about like specifically to the young adults that are transitioning from life in school to life out of school? Is there anything that would be of support to them? Helen: Counsellors. Interviewer: Counsellors? Helen: Counsellors and probably financials, especially if they were trying to move out onto their own and had all their stuff ready to go, kind of packed up their belongings for a new house. I know my parents gifted me a bunch of stuff for a house that we lost as well. So having to start all over again.

206

Interviewer: I hadn’t thought of that. But being that close to grad, I’m sure people had started to accumulate things for moving out. Helen: For moving out and all their grad dresses too. I don’t know if you heard, but there was a program that helped get our grads into different grad dresses obviously and suits and stuff that were all donated to the High River grads that year because a lot of people lost all their grad stuff too. Interviewer: So that was a benefit? Helen: Oh for sure. … Helen: No, it’s all good. Um, yeah, I do think honestly, that sending the money to students, after a disaster, is a good idea because with the floods with High River, a lot of those parents with like the graduating class is now trying to put money towards saving their house or fixing their house, they don’t, if they wanted to help with their child’s education, now they can’t, kind of thing. Interviewer: So definitely, it makes a difference, I think. Helen: Yeah. Interviewer: And like, would it, do you think there should be like a limit on how soon after they should have to go, like within a year or two? Or? Helen: I think, I think probably within like if you are going right back right after. Like if you plan on, or if you are already attending, or if you plan on attending within the next year, is probably… Interviewer: Not just forever? Because I am… Helen: Yeah, like five years later… Interviewer: Because I am…I am thinking about you actually. Would it have benefitted you to have something set aside for when you did go? Helen: Maybe a little bit. A little bit like I wouldn’t like expect like the whole tuition or anything. Even just a little bit that you could put towards your books or anything. Like obviously, like the kids, I think the students that are going right after a disaster or are already in should get more than the people who wait awhile before… (Helen’s Interview, 2019)

What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through disaster?

207

Carla: Going back to school to do the upgrading and like all through college, whether I was upgrading I would – or working like I wasn’t like a free ride you know what I mean. Like I really had to work hard so I’m proud I could do that. Like my third year, I worked two jobs while in school and then in the third year was the hardest as far as the school part goes. But actually, I was lucky enough my first year of college they had a grant for flood victims. So this guy, his name was [James]. So he was an anonymous donor and he – like I was telling or registering something. They’re “Oh, you’re from High River. Did you know about this kind of thing?” So I think what I did was I wrote him a letter and he chose me and he paid my tuition for the whole first year and then when I went back for my second year he did it again. Like he paid my tuition for my second year of college. Yeah, he was really generous and yeah, his aim was to help like flood victims whether – you know, he wasn’t looking for a sob story which was you could – meeting him you could tell like he wanted someone who was, you know, there to work because he had – Interviewer: And was it specifically for people going to school or was it – Carla: Yes. Yeah, specifically for [named] College. At first, it was just a bursary for maybe kids that were like struggling money-wise kind of thing. I had student loans so I was fine but … Yeah, the fact that – so then he kind of changed it after the flood happened to flood victims. So yeah. So he was awesome. I got to meet him once and he, you know, just sat down and talked to me like what my goals were and yeah, he was really, really nice and he built himself like kind of from the ground up as far as his wealth goes. He’s fairly wealthy but yeah. So I forgot about that actually till right now. He was awesome. … Carla: Yeah. Well, it was nice because I could – you know, I got my student loans covered for everything but I could – I like pushed that money back a year, like back a semester kind of thing so I didn’t have to ask for so much, you know, the following year. So he turned my like probably $30,000 student loan to 20 or 15. Like he really– Interviewer: That’s a huge help.

208

Carla: – yeah, paid for my books and my tuition. The only thing I paid for was like rent and when I stayed in residence. So yeah, he was – that was – and he – yeah, he stayed at – I wonder if maybe he wanted to stay anonymous because of … I mean he’s a private donor but I only know his first name’s [James]. Like you know, he’s happy with that. He’s not expecting anything in return. I wrote him thank you letters and I always updated him like kind of, you know, this is where your money has gone, yeah. So yeah, that was really cool. (Carla’s Interview, 2019)

What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through disaster?

Interviewer: What did the rest of your summer look like? Kim: Yeah. Well because I worked for the town I actually still had a job and I was in their like emergency operation centre, so I was doing logistics which was interesting. So I’d like call people for like some contracts and stuff. It’s kind of funny, I actually called Tervita and it was like, hi, I’m reaching out to get in contact with you, and then somebody was like, oh, we’ve been talking about you, we actually want to get in contact with you. So then I like gave the number to somebody higher up in the chain and then I guess Tervita had some big contract with the town, which was kind of funny. Interviewer: I know, a lot of people did not like them. Kim: Yeah, I know, somebody said that to me recently, they said they worked for Tervita and they said High River didn’t like them, and I thought, oh, I didn’t know that. Interviewer: Yeah, I wasn’t really around for that, the sort of politics of it, but … Kim: That’s interesting. It was interesting working for the town because like there was like the army and then they had like wildfire people in that evacuation centre, operation centre, and like the town police, and it was kind of who’s right, and there was a bit of a battle between like well, we said that, we said that. Like army obviously was king, like the army was the king and then there was like different people because there was like the High River police chief and all of them trying to make decisions and … I still worked for the town after and then they started doing a lot more training on like emergency preparedness, and like they put everybody through incident command training, ICT. It’s interesting, so they did a bunch of stuff like that, but …

209

Oh, and then so that was kind of initially after the flood so I was in there, and then after that when people started moving back then I would like – we were like that same friend group, like go around house to house and like help people clean up their basements. Oh, when we were actually evacuated we had a trip to [city in the U.S.], planned, so we still went down there because we were evacuated. … Interviewer: Good. So then did you have to clean out your own house? Kim: No, so we stayed in [a city in the U.S.]. When my parents heard that they might get back in so then they drove home and then we stayed for like another day or two, just a bunch of us kids, because there was no point in me coming back right now. So when I got to our house like a bunch of family members and like my parents’ friends had already come from like Calgary and like helped clean out most of it, so I just like saw our house when the basement was like not really there and it was just basically two by fours and gutted. And then like the huge mountain of stuff on the front lawn, that was weird. Interviewer: Yeah, for sure. Kim: Yeah, it was kind of interesting because you walk into your house and it looks like a normal house, like the floor was all covered and caked with mud, but then like downstairs, oh, it’s gone. Interviewer: Yeah, absolutely. Kim: Yeah, I remember my parents saying it would have been easier if it just burned, which is kind of sad, because … Interviewer: Actually, people from Red Cross said the same thing, that they’d helped with different disasters, and they said that flood is worse because you actually have to see all the stuff you’ve lost, where in a fire it’s just gone. … Kim: I think I was really lucky that I had the town job because I remember like I was getting paid to help, which was awesome. Interviewer: Yeah, that’s good. Yeah, interesting. It’s good to know I didn’t know the town was still like employing people to do those kinds of things.

210

Kim: So then two of my other friends… were also [working for the town] and I just remember they were like getting paid to do the random stuff, like they got paid to go to Staples and like buy a bunch of supplies for like the town. That’s just like stuff like that, they were just like we’re going shopping. Interviewer: Stuff that needed to be done, for sure. Kim: Yeah, and I think a lot of – the interesting thing with the town too was like a lot of the adults were busy with their own houses so a lot of random jobs got given to us [youth]. Yeah, because I remember doing some stuff because people were so busy trying to take care of the town and their house and so they were like, Kim, you do this, and I’m like okay, sure. Interviewer: That was all right. Kim: Yeah, like I don’t mind. It was like kind of fun things, like I don’t remember doing anything I shouldn’t have.

Kim: I don’t know. There was like some interesting things that I didn’t even think about. Like did you get the vitamins? Like I remember we got like a year’s supply of vitamins from the flood. Interviewer: Because we left right after. I know that one of the companies did free Christmas lights and stuff, and so we weren’t around for any of that. So you got a year’s supply of vitamins? Kim: Yeah. The guy who owns [a health food store], he has like a [name of store] or something, it’s like a company that does vitamins and like wellness. So we got like vitamins, which I thought was like really smart, but really interesting, because I was like: Oh yeah, I guess you do need vitamins. Interviewer: Look after yourself. Kim: Yeah. So I think stuff like that, like obviously like health. Mental health. I’m sure there was counselling and stuff like that available, but I don’t know if I … I wasn’t around too, right, like I was gone for a year after, so maybe there were things that I was supposed to do that I just didn’t. I don’t know, I guess nice community things are good. Like it was nice that they tried to do grad, because it was nice to try to do something to bring people together,

211

and after grad it was nice to see people who I didn’t know were still around, you know. I thought they’d be gone. … Kim: Oh yeah, so like a lot of us were a bit bored because like we could only do so much in your house and once you get your house to a certain point you just have to let it dry, so doing work in the town was good and then getting paid for it was even better because it’s always better to get paid for stuff, and like most of us were going to school. Interviewer: Yeah. Kim: The interesting thing with the diplomas too, I think some of my friends got into programs that they may not have got into if they [wrote] their diplomas. [Laughter] That’s something that you didn’t ask. …Yeah, it might not have happened otherwise so that’s pretty positive. (Kim’s Interview, 2019)

What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through disaster?

Jodi: It'd be nice to know what's going on. Interviewer: Yeah, okay. Jodi: You know, just in general, having more information about what's happening. Because even like our parents had no clue. So, information is really helpful when you're scared, so. Interviewer: Could you see that coming through like social media or – Jodi: Yeah. Interviewer: – like I know we were glued to the TV set but I don't know if it was very helpful. Like it was repeating the same footage again and again. Jodi: Yeah, no, it was not. I think especially now like social media could definitely help play a big helping role in that. I know it, at the time it was very helpful in like getting all of our pets and stuff, it was very helpful for a lot of people for that aspect. But I think it can also be helpful, like to know what's happening is the entire town like destroyed or is it just parts or like what's happening cause we had no clue for like a solid 10 days, not a clue. …

212

Jodi: I think so, yeah, like we had I think several parties probably. One of my friends they, she lived just out of town but it was still pretty close so we'd often go there and have parties and stuff. Interviewer: And those, was that like a break or did people like talk about what was going on? Jodi: No, I think – Interviewer: Or was it more like let's not talk about what's going on. Jodi: – yeah, I think it was more of like let's not talk about what's happening and just have fun and stuff, so, yeah. … Interviewer: So the job you had was in High River? Jodi: It was a in Okotoks, I was working at the [retail store], I'd been there since the previous August or something, so almost a year. But I tried to go back to work but, I don’t know, I was too emotional. So they were like you don't need to like come back yet, so. (Jodi’s Interview, 2019)

What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through disaster?

Leah: Yeah, I was going to say, like on that, some of my friends who felt close enough would reach out to me if they needed a place to stay, or maybe like resources or something that they lost that they no longer had, they reached out to me to borrow stuff or for help, and I’d say: Just reach out if people are going through disasters, like … if you have the friends – I hope everybody does – that they can lean on, then lean on them and – Interviewer: What kind of things do you think people have? Or do you remember things they asked you for? Leah: Some people even just needed like an extra pair of sweat pants. Or some people they need like ladders and like tools and stuff to like – for whatever reason, for cleaning their houses. And sometimes they just needed an extra pair of hands, yeah just everyday things. Sometimes they [unintelligible 00:17:20] my friends and they were all kind of … they had no houses to go to, and they were really sad and bored, had nothing to do, and so I just had a campfire one night, so everybody got together and got to feel some companionship. So that was really helpful, for them I guess, they enjoyed it.

213

Interviewer: That’s awesome. Leah: Yeah. It’s pretty sad, but just having a campfire and hotdogs, they were all just really happy to be around friends and not have to think about all their things being gone. Interviewer: Did you find that that was a lot on people’s minds? Leah: Yeah. It think especially when you’re younger, like when that happened, my age group, we were what? 17 and 18? And like I know a lot of girls lost their grad dresses and- Like in hindsight, your grad dress, not a big deal, but at the time a $300 dress was like your world just ended. … Leah: Supports. I think like insurance was like a big support that people needed like with their cars and whatnot. Interviewer: Some people did that affect your friends, like losing cars and things? Leah: Some of them. Yeah, some people, they never found their cars, I don’t know where they went. I think there was one, just the car was gone, so I don’t know if that was the flood or somebody else took that [unintelligible 00:18:47]. I have no idea. But us being so young and probably only having insurance for a year or two, they don’t know what to do with that, so just rely on people to figure that out. No one that I know or who has specifically talked about it I’m sure like mental health supports probably could have been better. Like I don’t know if that would be like counselling or anything like that, but I’m sure that could’ve been better. Or like advertisement for it, or outlets, resources for it – Interviewer: That’s interesting because from what I understand there was a lot of supports available in town, like but it seems like maybe, yeah, like people didn’t know what was happening here – Leah: Yeah. Interviewer: Like whole services were like set up in town, like they weren’t already existing here and available to people, but maybe like, yeah, kind of happening when people were not, say, preoccupied with other things, but it seems like – Leah: Yeah, maybe the promotion is what I’m trying to get at, probably could’ve been a bit better. So I mean I didn’t go to look for it, I didn’t need it, but I don’t ever remember anything being pushed for to people to find out about. Yeah, mostly that.

214

Interviewer: That’s one thing I was quite concerned with, like seeing how much support was like available in the elementary schools and stuff, and in the high school too, like for students who were still in school, because obviously they have access then to supporting them. But for the students that graduated, like – Leah: Okay, you’re an adult, goodbye. Interviewer: Yeah, yeah. And it’s like such a … like yeah, a different depending on each person, like individual, like whether you’re going away or you’re starting a career, or you know, going to school or not. Leah: Well I know of not a lot of people personally, but I’ve heard of a few people who kind of seemed to have a bit of a rougher start where they’ve already moved out of home before they’re even finished high school, and then they have to deal with that on their own. Whereas a lot of my friends – all of my friends actually – had their parents, to either go back to their parent’s house or get them through it. And I knew some people who just didn’t have that, it was just them, at like 17 or 18, just figure it out, this is life. And I was always like- I don’t know how they did it, but they did, and they’re amazing. (Leah’s Interview, 2019)

What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through disaster?

Naomi: I think good. I mean everyone has their trials and tribulations of life growing up but there’s things that I’ve noticed that are like, well I wonder if that’s because of going through the flood, having to go through losing that whole part of life and having to rebuild after. I think the biggest part is wind and rain. I get really weird about winter and storms and stuff because that’s how it started was with really big storms. So I think I definitely have PTSD from that, for sure. But other than that, I don’t think it’s held me back any. I had a really good family and friends so it was like, okay let’s do this and move on and keep going with our life. You can’t let it stop you, I guess. So it’s been good. (Naomi’s Interview, 2019)

What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through disaster?

Amelia: I mean, obviously mental health supports, I feel like there should have been, like therapists and psychologists at those evacuation centres, like right away.

215

Interviewer: Would that have been, would they have been accessed by youth, do you think, had they been there? Amelia: Maybe after … actually you know what, I don’t know, because I feel like you don’t want your friends to see you accessing those supports … Hmm – … Amelia: Absolutely. I feel like … some normalcy would have been nice as well. like it, I almost, like I was obviously happy back then to not have to write the diplomas, but I feel like having to have gone through with that and then having grad – Interviewer: I know. Amelia: - it’s, logistically it was hard to work around, but having grad at the end of summer was kind of weird … And then, yeah, I don’t know, it was … it was like a summer of – How long did clean up last, like two weeks into July, if not longer? Interviewer: If not longer, yeah. Amelia: Yeah. So, it was clean up and then it was kind of like now what, we have to, we can’t, like do I find a job in Okotoks for six weeks, do I, like what do I do … So, that was … yeah, it was, and then … So, it was, you couldn’t work or maybe you could, I didn’t work, and then everybody, like friends were gone, staying with family all over the place. And then, yeah, it was just like hurry up and wait for school to start; a lot of time to ruminate, which maybe wasn't the best thing. Yeah. … Amelia: Yeah, that and something I forgot … was when … we didn’t know that we didn’t have to write the diplomas, it was like holy crap, like am I still going to get into university if I don’t write these, like what’s going on … So, that was really – Interviewer: Stressful. Amelia: - super stressful for a little bit. Interviewer: How long till you found out that it wouldn’t affect your – Amelia: I think it was like – Interviewer: - entrance? Amelia: - a week or two, like it was … oh god, I can’t even remember … it was at least a week, it might have been longer … And then to, because like some people needed to write those diplomas in order to get their grades up. –

216

Interviewer: Right. Amelia: - So, they had to like, I think go into Calgary and write it at like the start of August, which is like you have forgotten all of that crap since June. – Interviewer: And so, much has happened, yeah. Amelia: Yeah. Interviewer: Yeah, I didn’t think about all the people that needed it for the bump in grade, because usually they don’t say rely on your PATs – Amelia: No. Interviewer: - for a bump in grade. Amelia: Yeah. And it’s, and yeah, they were 50% back then. Interviewer: Yeah, it’s huge. Amelia: Yeah. (Amelia’s Interview, 2019)

What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through disaster?

Jeff: No. We’d usually – it was exam break so we weren’t – I wasn’t in school anyways. So we were supposed to be studying. But no, usually I didn’t – like it sounds bad but I usually didn’t mind the floods – Interviewer: Because then you’d get out from school to fill the sandbags [laughs]. Jeff: Yeah, yeah. And it never really caused that much damage. If anything, it was just like a day off and we got to go mess around. Interviewer: Yeah. No, for sure. Always I am so impressed with the youth labour force like for filling sandbags. Like obviously up until the flood like it seemed like such a generous use of your time to go and do that so thank you [laughs]. Jeff: Yeah. And really, I mean it would have – it was a pretty fair trade-off. We didn’t have to go sit in class. All we had to do is some physical labour which I think everyone was quite happy for. … Jeff: No. I was all done. Only my friend got lucky and didn’t have to write – Interviewer: [Laughs] Yeah. A double-edged sword though because some people were like hoping to like boost their grade with the exam. So they had to like find other ways to write it. Jeff: Yeah.

217

Interviewer: But yeah. No. Jeff: They offered a – I think was it – I mean you could go to Okotoks or something I think and write them if you really wanted to but I’m not really sure. Interviewer: Under the circumstances, I’m sure nobody was in a very good position to be writing at that point. Jeff: Yeah. I’m not sure I would have wanted to write even if I could have. Like even if I did need to boost my grade I’m not sure the – Interviewer: Yeah. Jeff: – would be all there to do it. (Jeff’s Interview, 2019)

What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through disaster?

Gwen: Finding good ways to grieve is a lot of it. It's very tough, during the disaster I felt really bad for the people in Medicine Hat, fires? Interviewer: Oh, Fort McMurray. Gwen: Fort McMurray, yes, with the fires afterwards. It … it's a lot to cope with. It's almost, you're losing memories when you lose something like that, you're losing memories, you're losing a lot. You're losing physical things, you could be losing something of sentimental value. And it's hard but you need to find time to grieve and it … it's tough. Being a teenager is tough by itself, in the end a lot of it doesn't matter. They probably hear that all the time that like as a teenager you, it's the best times, you don’t have obligations, you don't have to work, you don't have to do this and that and the other. You just get to go out and hang out with your friends. Soak that in, go to the party. If you've never been to a party, go to the party, just do it, just do it. Your parents will get mad but a night or two of them being angry, whatever, just do it, go out, have some fun. Be responsible, have your fun but be responsible. And … learn how, you just got to learn how to re-live life, not re-live but learn how to be how you are now cause obviously that's going to change you. But … it's, yeah, it's a lot to come back from. There's patience too, patience for rebuilding and things won't be exactly as they were but it can bring a lot of new things as well. I feel like High River they've got a lot of new stuff too. Every time I go there I'm like this is new, this is new, where did this come from. We have a Canadian Tire now, what?

218

And to keep in touch with people, make sure that everyone else is doing okay as well. … Gwen: I feel like it would have been helpful if we had a way of like, it's hard like as a, as you were graduating coming out of it. I was going to say that like with schools and stuff we should have had like after, during the summer or whatever we should have had a place that we could all like meet and hang out and be with our friends and stuff. It probably would have been helpful if there was a place that we could go once a week, just hang out with our friends throughout that summer. Probably would have been helpful to a lot of people. There were a lot of people in, I think there were two or three camps. So they were spread out and it was hard to see people. I feel like maybe group kind of like group therapy, a place where we can like sit and talk about it and be open about like what's going on. There weren't, there wasn't a lot of talk about what happened or, like obviously there was like it flooded. But I don't feel like there was a lot of talk or at least I wasn't involved in a lot of talk of this is what my family's going through right now, this is what we're dealing with, we, our house was red-flagged, we couldn't even go in to get the turtle. I don't know, whatever they lost in their house. Cause there were people who couldn't enter their houses, who couldn't access anything. And I feel like it would have been better to have a space where we could all talk and converse about … Interviewer: Do you think people would have attended if that had been offered somewhere? Gwen: I want to say yes but at the same time if people are dealing with tearing apart their basements because they got flooded, I mean, they're probably too busy tearing apart their basements because they got flooded then too busy doing that than coming to meetings to talk about it. I'm not too sure what interest would be but it'd be great if there was like [unintelligible 01:18:03], even if it was online. Interviewer: Yeah, okay, that's great advice, great suggestions. Gwen: Just a place to share stories. (Gwen’s Interview, 2019)

219

Generative Dialogue

This might be one of the richest areas of the research.

Asking the youth what they needed has yielded so many insightful suggestions.

Eagle: It is telling how generous the participants were with their responses. They have a lot of wisdom to share, if people are willing to listen.

Bear the Historian: Emotions can run high during a disaster. As such, I am attentive to Jodi’s comment about the need for information; she said, “You know, just in general, having more information about what's happening. Because even like our parents had no clue. So, information is really helpful when you're scared” (Interview, 2019).

It really was a scary time, and fears were compounded by having so much that was unknown.

It took nearly two weeks before people were allowed back into the town.

That was a long time to not know what was going on. A long time to speculate.

Thunder Being the Messenger: Nearly every participant acknowledged the need for mental health and wellness supports, suggesting that therapists, psychologists, and counsellors, should be available in the town, at the evacuation centres, and on-line. Perhaps looking inwards, or empathizing with those around them, the youth advocated for programming to support people dealing with PTSD, group therapy and/or places to gather and just talk about the flood, and time and space to grieve. They noted that these resources, if present, could also be better advertised.

It is difficult to know which of these resources the youth would have accessed, if any. Many of them indicated that they had not heard of any supports, nor were they sure if they or their friends

would have accessed them had they been there.

Bear the Historian: This brings me back to our earlier discussion around “Youths’ Experiences

Post-Disaster” where we talked about the need for mental health supports for the family unit,

220 rather than individuals. Similarly, it sounds as though the youth might prefer to participate in counselling sessions in a social/group setting, with some structured discussions and opportunities for sharing.

Eagle: An individual’s well-being is partially contingent on the overall health, well-being, and strength of their network of relations, and vice versa. This is true of vibrantly sufficient systems

(Davis & Simmt, 2003; Davis, Sumara, & Luce-Kapler, 2008).

The youth have made a strong case for having mental health supports available for groups—

be they familial groupings, or peer groupings.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: The youth were also looking for places to nourish their spirits, places to: gather and be together, have fun, escape to, tell stories, see their friends, find intimacy, find solitude, and find normalcy, amidst the chaos.

Some parents let their kids throw parties in their empty basements. I can picture the gutted-out

spaces; they would not have had to worry about them wrecking things.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: The youth were likely too spent from their long days helping in the houses of friends and family members, to have had the energy to be unruly. Some were even working in paid positions for the town: handling logistics at an emergency operations centre, running errands to get supplies while other town employees dealt with the issues in their homes, and shovelling silt out of parks and dugouts (eventually).

Thunder Being the Messenger: The youth took on so many responsibilities. The ones with paid employment expressed gratitude for having purposeful work through that time, while the ones without jobs had less opportunity to save up for school and their post-disaster lives.

221

The youth could be looked to as an untapped labour force in post-disaster communities.

Providing them with safe job opportunities would lessen the burden on the overstretched adults,

while giving a financial leg up to the young adults preparing for the next stages of their lives.

Thunder Being the Messenger: While some wished for paid employment, others had to take time away from their jobs to deal with their losses and grieve. Looking inward, some will know that they need to keep busy with work, and others will need to step back—both are addressing their personal well-being.

Buffalo the Gifted: The youth identified additional pragmatic needs for post-disaster response; these include: financial support, housewares for those moving out, clothes, tools, feminine hygiene products at the emergency operations and distributions centres, a break from writing their final exams (this happened for most and was a huge relief, during an already stressful time), and help navigating the insurance process (e.g. dealing with lost or damaged vehicles).

So much wisdom, we just needed to ask.

Bear the Historian: It is interesting how these generative dialogues have points of affinity. Here,

Gwen talks about feeling sad for the people who experienced the Fort McMurray fires; “It … it's a lot to cope with. It's almost, you're losing memories when you lose something like that, you're losing memories, you're losing a lot. You're losing physical things, you could be losing something of sentimental value” (Interview, 2019). Similarly, Jeff describes, “Like memories were there but they weren’t there because the structure wasn’t there anymore or wasn’t quite back” (Interview, 2019), in the discussion around “Relationships to Place.” Both are speaking to the losses of touchstone memories (Cruikshank, 1990; Markides, 2020b; Strong-Wilson, 2008)— whether they be sentimental items or physical places.

It can be hard to explain the losses of intangible things, but the need to grieve is very real.

222

Buffalo the Gifted: The youth noted that sometimes you just need an extra pair of hands, and that it can be very worthwhile to reach out and be there for your friends—sharing your gifts, fully.

There was a reminder: to keep in touch.

We see this happening a lot now too, with the COVID-19 pandemic.

People are making a conscious effort to check in on one-another and to be there for whatever

people need (e.g. grocery deliveries, a friendly call, etc.).

Bear the Historian: Disasters can bring out the best (and sometimes, worst) in humanity. There are so many examples of compassion in the world today, and in this research. Leah expressed admiration for some of her peers, “who kind of seemed to have a bit of a rougher start where they’ve already moved out of home before they’re even finished high school, and then they have to deal with [the flood] on their own” (Interview, 2019).

I interviewed some people in that situation. Their challenges and supports were definitely

different from the youth who were still living at home.

Bear the Historian: Disaster recovery is a process for everyone involved. Gwen reminds us that we need to have, “patience for rebuilding and things won't be exactly as they were but it can bring a lot of new things as well” (Interview, 2019).

That is a positive note to end on.

Meaning-Making

When asked, the youth have a lot of wisdom to share from their experiences. They offer concrete suggestions for helping other victims of disaster, such as: the need for ongoing updates and information. If I were to compile their ideas to form a disaster response plan, it would read as follows:

223

Suggestions from Youth Relating to Mental Health and Well-being: Specialized Supports

- Provide access to therapists, psychologists, and counsellors.

- Have supports available in town, at the evacuation centres, and on-line.

- Support people who are dealing with PTSD.

- Offer group therapy and/or places to gather to just talk about the flood.

- Give time, space, and support for people to grieve.

- Advertise what resources and supports are available, more widely.

- Consider mental health supports for the family units, rather than individuals.

- Run counselling sessions in social/peer groups.

- Initiate structured discussions and opportunities for sharing.

Suggestions from Youth Relating to General Health and Well-being: General Supports

- Create spaces for youth to gather, have fun, and spend time with their friends and

partners.

- Invite youth to tell their stories.

- Provide places where youth can go to: be alone, escape, find solitude and peace, and

experience normalcy, amidst the chaos.

- Utilize youth as an untapped labour force, where they can be paid to do (safe) work that

other adults are too busy to do in the wake of a disaster (e.g. running errands, handling

logistics at emergency operations centres, manual labour and clean up, providing

childcare or other programs for younger children, etc.).

- Respect that some youth who have employment may not be able to work post-disaster.

- Recognize that the youth will make different choices to meet their well-being needs.

224

- Gather and distribute resources, including: financial support for tuition, housewares for

the youth who are moving out, clothes, tools, feminine hygiene products at the

emergency operations and distributions centres, etc.

- Respond quickly to students’ concerns about governmental exams. Offer them a break

from writing their final exams during this already stressful time.

- Help youth to navigate the insurance process (e.g. dealing with lost or damaged vehicles).

- Acknowledge that losses can take many forms: keepsakes with sentimental value, places

that held fond memories, physical items, friendships, sense of trust or safety, etc.

While this is only a partial list based on the responses of nine research participants, it demonstrates the ways youth think about and empathize with others who are going through disasters.

Graduation

Storied Métissage

The aim of this study was to gather stories and learn from the experiences of the youth who graduated from high school while living in and around High River during the 2013 flood. I invited dialogue with the young adults and listened to their stories of life after the disaster, as they transitioned from life-in-schools to life-out-of-schools. I never intended to do my research on graduation, specifically; but as these stories came out, they were the most charged with emotion—the twinge in a voice, the frustration, anger, disappointment, and sadness came seeping through. Graduation was a sticking point in the first few interviews; as such, I ended up asking about it in the subsequent conversations if the topic did not arise on its own, which it almost always did. I only had to say the word “grad” and each participant launched into their tale of the events, rife with dripping details.

225

What about grad?

Tina: Yeah. Like it wasn’t. Well, because you know, the flood happened. Our graduation I hated. I really hated our graduation. Interviewer: What about it? Tina: The fact that it – I remember going when I was in grade 11 to the 2012 grad and they were talking about how good the weather always is and I remember thinking to myself ha-ha it’s going to rain and of course it frigging rained. So, I was really, really sad that we didn’t get that ceremony in the park and then, you know, we were all at like [Thompson, a private school out of town] and we were like in the change room changing into our grad dresses. You know, like seeing my sister graduate like three years prior like how she, you know, got to come home and get ready and you know. And we didn’t really want the news there and that lady from the government. I don’t remember her name but she was there. Like we just wanted it to be as normal as possible and [Cam] our – … Tina: So he was our valedictorian and he tried to make it like clear in his speech like I’m not trying to make this about the flood, like let’s just focus on us and … But then even though the flood wasn’t super talked about it just – the fact that the news was there and like special people were there. We were like where’s the normalcy. Like we didn’t feel normal. I think I hated it because I had seen what the other graduations were like and how perfect they were, you know. So that was … Yeah. Yeah, I didn’t like the graduation. Interviewer: Is there anything they could have done differently? Tina: As far as the graduation goes? Interviewer: Yeah. Tina: I don’t think there was – like I just like I almost dwell on it. Like I really – I went to the graduation this year and I was like this would have been – like I imagine what ours – even six years later what ours would – Interviewer: Like a do-over [laughs]. Tina: – have been like. Yeah. Like it’s so – yeah. But I don’t think there could have been anything that could have been done differently, right? Like we pushed it back as far

226

as we could because people were going to college and university and we put it where we could. I don’t know. Yeah, I still dwell on that. That still makes me so sad that I never got that selfishly, you know. Like my sister got it and why can’t I [laughs]. … Interviewer: So like thank you for talking about the grad because I wasn’t sure how – like I knew it didn’t happen in the park but I wasn’t – I didn’t know what happened at [Thompson] and was it like in July or …? Tina: It was at the end of August actually. So they pushed it back. It was like August 22nd or something. Yeah, they did it at [Thompson] so that was too far away for all of us to go home and change before the dinner, right? So we had no choice but to all get changed in the change room with our moms like all around us [laughs] into our grad dresses and our class photo they did it – there’s like stair – have you been to [Thompson]? Interviewer: Yeah. Tina: So the stairs that like lead down to somewhere. I don’t – I can’t remember where but – Interviewer: Is it like the new part of the building? Oh no because it would have been. Tina: Outside. Interviewer: Yeah, the outside. Tina: It was outside. So they had us all line up on there and they took a picture like that but like three rows up you can’t see the 100 other people that are up at the top of the stairs. That was our class picture. Like what the hell? Yeah. Interviewer: That’s disappointing. Tina: Yeah. I just I – yeah. Interviewer: Yeah, could have been done differently, better. Tina: Yeah, that’s the only thing. Like honestly, I like couldn’t give a shit about all the stuff we lost. Like to me again it’s a way of cleaning up. But the grad, I would change anything for that. I would really like to have – yeah. And then the next – what was it? Like the year after or two years later that graduating class was trying to do a petition to like omit some diplomas because we got to omit ours. There was – I don’t know if you saw it but there was a huge petition and I like – I was so mad

227

about it because I was like I would rather write all of my diplomas 50 times over than have another frigging flood. Like are you serious [laughs]? Is this the generation like you know? Interviewer: Like to know that that was like – the circumstances that led to that being a possibility are so different than they – Tina: Yeah. Interviewer: – like can even understand. Tina: Just because it wasn’t fair like come on [laughs]. (Tina’s Interview, 2019)

What about grad?

Dee: Well, that was stupid. I, honestly, I think most of us, I'm pretty sure more than half the class was drunk the entire time. But I think we were all ready to kind of, at this point, move on, we're all going to school in like a couple of weeks and I don’t think any of us really wanted to be there anymore. Like ready to go, move on, but no, we have to have our graduation at the end of August cause we paid for it. So I gladly would have not gone had we not spent money on like a dress and all the stuff, yeah, I was like, really didn't want to go, but. Interviewer: Is there anything that could have made that experience better? Dee: I don’t think so. I mean, I think we were all grateful that we were able to have it, that they let us use the school and we were able to have it. I just think most of us were ready to move on and didn't want to wait anymore. I think I just, yeah. (Dee’s Interview, 2019)

What about grad?

Alan: It was nice. Like there was the effort made to make it as best as possible and I appreciate that. And I think it was – I think everyone felt a little bit disappointed in the sense that like some people lost their dress and stuff like that. So, it wasn’t really the big send-off, I guess, that I think a lot of us had thought it was going to be. Like normally a lot of us [unintelligible 00:46:17] have the ceremony in George Lane Park and stuff like that. It’s kind of like the tradition and stuff and I think it was a bit weird not to. It was kind of disappointing not having that to be honest with you. Like no find no fault with anyone, it’s just how things worked out. But it was nice

228

to still have a graduation but it felt weird. I mean really it didn’t – it wasn’t like the happy like yay, we graduated, we’re all done thing because obviously most of the town’s destroyed and you know, there was still kind of that. And certain people weren’t real happy about that. Interviewer: Yeah. No, I’m glad. Thank you for – thank you for talking about it because I hadn’t put it in the questions and then it came up like pretty much like with the first I don’t know however many interviews but then I’ve now – like if people haven’t talked about it I’ve started to ask because just to get that perspective about the event. Thanks. Alan: Yeah. I think it – for me at least this isn’t really the send-off I think it’s going to be kind of. Interviewer: Is there anything that could have made that better? Alan: No, I don’t think so. Like everyone, parents and teachers and everything really like they honestly did an [unintelligible 00:47:41] of the school. Everyone was amazing doing everything they possibly could. I think it was just something out of everyone’s control obviously. Interviewer: Such a mature answer [laughs]. Alan: Well, obviously like it would have been nice to do at home, right? Like it felt like you were graduating and you were walking down halls that you’d never really been down before. So it was just kind of sad in that perspective, I guess. So it doesn’t matter though. Like it was good. It was still nice. (Alan’s Interview, 2019)

What about grad?

Interviewer: That's, yeah, that's horrible, [unintelligible 00:21:18] what you had to go through. You called it mock grad. Sheila: Yeah, I’m, when it comes to ceremonies I'm very traditional. I was, I've been to, all my friends graduated, I've had graduating friends from my Grade 9 year up until three years after I graduated. They're always held in George Lane Park under the gazebo, normally in the blistering heat and the stupid grad gowns that don't breathe. And then we either go to the rec centre and have grad on ice or, not on ice but on the arena, or we go to the Memorial Centre and we have grad there.

229

So, grad was chaos, it was at a private school that I was misinformed, we went to Okotoks, we were running around Okotoks trying to find this school, it was outside of Okotoks, it's a private school. It was weird cause it was in an auditorium so instead of us being on risers and everyone being in the grass and it being sunny, it was a dark auditorium, we're all sitting down and everyone's, all the parents and siblings and stuff that were watching were looking down on us instead. It was just like a weird atmosphere and everything seemed very rushed. So, I don’t know if it's normal for grads to be like that but we got there, we got our grad gowns, we, it seemed like we were able to dilly dally all the time there. And then we got into the ceremony, did our ceremony, rushed outside for a picture. You get to see like the first four rows of people and then the last, which is only like a fifth of our class in the grad photo and the rest are just smooshed into the background because it was just a long narrow staircase that we went down. So it's very hard to see people in the photo. Other than my one friend, she had [bright] hair so she stood out in the back. And after that we were rushed back inside, we were told we had half an hour to change and like get sorted out when normally we have four hours between like – normally we do the grad in the park, we go to our friend's house, we start the party there, everyone's doing each other's hair and getting dresses on and all that fun stuff and we have like four hours together and then we go. But there, like 30 minutes, have fun. So, yeah, so it was straight out of the gown, into my dress. I came back upstairs in my dress, my sister was annoyed because she didn't get grad gown photos. So, it was, yeah, I'm just like I'm under so much pressure to get stuff done in like a timely manner. And like yeah, I'm sitting, well everyone's lining up I'm still sitting in the bathroom trying to get my dress on and like my make-up done, it was ridiculous. So, and then my grad partner he had come down for our grad, he had moved to [a different province] cause he technically graduated early and he had come down two days before it flooded. Yeah, so he was the one that had all the kids in his house. So, yeah, he came down two days before it flooded for grad cause grad was – Interviewer: Originally scheduled …

230

Sheila: – yeah, for like five days after I think or, somewhere in there, so that didn't happen. And then he actually he came back at the time that our mock grad was supposed to be, but he ended up in [a named city in Alberta] and he got sick so he wasn't able to come up, so that was fun. So my grad march partner, they were very adamant that I needed to have somebody to walk with, I’m assuming it was more of a like if you fall cause girls always wear heels to grad and none of them wear heels on a regular basis. So I was put at the back with one of my friends and his girlfriend who was kind of territorial so that was kind of, very awkward about it. And I informed my friend cause I was obviously, I was just on one side of him and I just let him know that I wasn't going to walk with them and that I was going to walk alone. Cause me and my friend had planned to walk together since like sixth grade, so we're just like we're walking together, that's a thing. And I carried a [symbolic item] in his memoriam cause we made a joke that if he died that I would carry a [symbolic item] for him for his grad. Because one of our close friends when she graduated she had a [symbolic item] for her grad dress cause why not, so. Interviewer: But he didn't die but you carried the [symbolic item] in his honour anyway. Sheila: Yeah, I was just like you're not here so I'm carrying the [symbolic item] as if you abandoned everyone. Interviewer: Is there something they could have done better with the grad or differently? Sheila: I don’t know. I feel like there was a lot of disorganization with it cause we, there was somebody that was giving us heck for not – cause somebody was complaining about the grad openly at grad. And someone mentioned that if students had shown up to fundraisers that we would have – and I was like I didn't hear about any fundraisers, like what are you talking about. And they had mentioned like a couple different things and I was like no one told us those were fundraisers, no one told us we were supposed to be there, like I was like there was a lot of miscommunication or lack of communication, disorganization on that part. But I feel like it might have been better if it was still held outside somewhere, maybe with some sort of significance to our school rather than an auditorium. It felt very stuffy and very dark there. Cause it was still a nice day, it was a little warm, I

231

remember when we were trying to file down the stairs for the photos that everyone was complaining that it was very hot if you weren't in the shade. So that was fun. And the other biggest complaint that I got from people is that they should have taken two photos of students because of not being able to see anyone or found somewhere else to take the photo. But it is what it is, it happened. (Sheila’s Interview, 2019)

What about grad?

Corinne: Just another story is our grad, because our grad felt more like paparazzi because there was cameras everywhere because we were the graduating class of the most devastated community for the floods. So we had … [Alison Redford] was there. She was the Premier, I want to say. I’m not very good on politics. She was there. All the news stations and everything. It didn’t feel like grad because it wasn’t where we were going to go. Just all the cameras and everything, it just didn’t make it feel completely special like it should have been. Interviewer: So that’s one that you talked about again and again. Corinne: Yeah. Interviewer: What had you envisioned or [unintelligible 00:07:16] for grad? Corinne: The plan was for grad was we were going to do it in the park downtown, which is a really nice park, George Lane Park is really nice, and then I think we were doing a dinner at … I think we were doing it at the rec centre. So they were going to do it up for us, just like they usually do. Like what they did for the grads previous years but it didn’t happen that way. (Corinne’s Interview, 2019)

What about grad?

Brittany: Yeah. It think especially when you’re younger, like when that happened, my age group, we were what? 17 and 18? And like I know a lot of girls lost their grad dresses and- Like in hindsight, your grad dress, not a big deal, but at the time a $300 dress was like your world just ended. (Brittany’s Interview, 2019)

What about grad?

232

Corey: I guess my grad dress, that whole part of it was bad. My seamstress was here in Okotoks so that was good, my dress was here, and because we got a new puppy, my grad shoes were in my car because I didn’t want her to chew them. So I had grad dress and my shoes but I didn’t have any jewellery or hair extensions or anything and where I lived, you could go kind of the back way in but they wouldn’t let us so there was that. So I had to go buy new hair and then someone else who was also living at our friend’s place just outside of town offered me to go through their jewellery and stuff so I had jewellery but my cap and gown dress that I wear underneath was at home. So I had to wear … well actually I lucked out. We went back to the store and it was still there. Interviewer: So you got the same one? Corey: Yeah, so I have 2. I haven’t gotten rid of anything. I have 2. High River has Spring Ball. My dress was downstairs hanging there and so it was gross and we had to get it dry-cleaned and they did an amazing job. You would never tell that it was in a flood and it’s in a box now but it was hanging in the tree airing out for a really long time. That was really sad because it’s huge and beautiful and that was the best day ever so – (Corey’s Interview, 2019)

What about grad?

Ellen: Yes … Well yeah, I mean, so it was at [Thompson] instead of in High River. It was on the news, the Premier was there and then it was like seeing all these people I hadn’t seen for two months … So yeah, I don’t know, it almost felt like it was … too worked up … so it made it feel like it was this big special event, but it’s not, but I don’t know how to put it into words … It was just very, it was not what I was expecting … It was, it felt a little over-the-top, it was like, because we were like, I just wanted to party and drink with my friends and instead CTV was there, I can’t even remember the Premier’s name at the time was there … It was just a little much … Yeah, yeah. Interviewer: Redford, Alison Redford? Ellen: Yeah, that was it. Interviewer: Okay. Ellen: Yeah.

233

Interviewer: Because like if I think about it long enough it will come to me. Ellen: Yes, yeah. Yeah. and she gave a speech and it was … like why are you, you don’t know any of us … you don’t … like I wouldn’t even vote for you, like what are you doing here … Yeah, it was very … it seemed like it was dramatized for the sake of being on TV. Like I am not trying to downplay what people went through, like I understand what I went through was not nearly as bad as what … other people went through. So, I don't want to downplay that it was a huge deal, but yeah it was … grad was strange. And then it was the end, like it was the end of the summer, so I’m pretty sure I had grad, we all got drunk that night and then the next day like everybody packed up and left for university or school or whatever. Interviewer: Yeah. Ellen: Yeah, yeah. Interviewer: Is there any way that could’ve been better or done differently, do you think? Ellen: I mean, having grad when it was supposed to be would've been nice, but yeah, just that logistically that would not have been able to happen. Just even having, it would’ve been nice to have it in High River, without the news people there, without Alison Redford there … Yeah … It was – Yeah, yeah. Interviewer: Yeah. Ellen: Because then it was also like we couldn’t drink there, because we had to drive back to High River instead of being already in High River … Yeah. Interviewer: Yeah, that makes sense. Ellen: Yeah. Interviewer: So, were there parties like in town afterward? Ellen: It, though I’m trying to remember where the party was … I think it was outside of town, south west … Yeah, I think. Interviewer: Yeah. That’s good. Ellen: Mm-hmm. Not that we were underage drinking. Interviewer: No. No. No, it’s not, but 18’s allowed, but that’s most, I think most grads are 18, so … Yeah … yeah, I’m not, I’m not naive to the ways of the world … Yeah. Nor should it matter for the … the audience of this research. (Ellen’s Interview, 2019)

What about grad?

234

Meg: Because I know some people, like even adults, and it’s just, “oh, this happened, I lost all my things”, and it’s like it’s horrible, it is, but it’s like … it could be worse, could be better. Yeah, and I think it’s really important when you’re feeling things to acknowledge that and feel it, let yourself feel it, don’t just like mask it, but … Yeah, it’s a part of you but it’s not all of you, I think that’s probably the biggest thing. Our grad was really weird. Interviewer: It’s not in the questions, but it’s what I want to ask. Meg: It was at [Thompson] and it was like way later, like it was on August 22nd or something, and all these people were like: Oh, these poor students, they lost everything, and they were like going out of their way to make it- And it was really nice and it was really thoughtful, but it was also like a little bit weird, like the premier came to our grad and gave a big speech on like resiliency, and it was … I don’t know, it was just really strange because it felt like none of us really cared as much as everybody who was making it out to be a big deal, because I think a lot of us felt like: Yeah, it’s too bad, but it’s like really our parents who are feeling the loss. Yeah, it was really weird. I can’t remember what else [was on it], but I just remember it was a really weird day, it was a strange day. Interviewer: What could have made that better? Not having the premier there? [Laughs]. Sorry, not to put words in your mouth. Meg: No, I don’t know. Like I mean I think it was nice that she came. It was just kind of like also really weird because it was almost more like a publicity thing or something. And for I think like a lot of people it kind of turned into that, like they were like: Oh, these poor students. And there was a bunch of people that donated grad dresses and it was all really nice, but it was also- there was like a lot of like news people who were trying to like capture it all. And I get it, like people care and they wanted to know and … I can’t remember who, I think there was like one girl that was like crying about her grad dress, and it was like on the news, and I just remember being like kind of annoyed because it was like: You’re making us all look like that, and like I don’t feel that way [Laughs].

235

Interviewer: Did you lose your grad dress or do you have it still? Meg: My mom actually grabbed it, so I had it. She was very thoughtful. But I also wasn’t very … I didn’t care that much about high school grad and I- But that was my attitude from the start, like I was kind of like: Oh, whatever, it’s just high school. But I know that some people, it’s like a big deal because it’s their high school grad and it’s probably their only grad, and a lot of families and stuff. So even- It was actually- It’s good perspective for me, so I said-… my [partner], he was like raised by his grandparents because he had a parent die when he was younger, and so for him, his grad, he didn’t care, but his family really cared because they- and it’s like anything, it’s like your family, they want to see that you did good and that they raised you good, so … So a grad, it’s kind of like a wedding actually. Interviewer: It’s the biggest event before the wedding. … Meg: Yeah. …It’s like all these people who’ve invested in you, they want to see you succeed, so it felt like it blew up, maybe. And I get it, but it was just kind of like a weird day [Laughs]. So it was like, oh there’s- I can’t remember [who], [Alison Redford] - or something like that - showed up. Interviewer: Oh, my gosh. Meg: So what could’ve been better? I don’t know. More low-key, but I guess for some people they wanted it big. Interviewer: Was it okay [unintelligible 00:42:34]? Meg: I thought it was really nice that they offered it. This is really a side note, but the only thing that was kind of annoying is we did the picture where they do their picture, and they do it on the stairs, and so- but we have a way bigger grad class than them so you could only see like three girls in the front, and then everyone else, so it’s like [I] don’t even have a picture of everybody, but I don’t really … I’m not really that close to them so it’s okay, it’s just kind of funny. The picture was random. Interviewer: I’ve heard that. Meg: You’ve heard that? Interviewer: I’ve heard that.

236

Meg: Yeah. That’s funny. … Meg: I don’t know how grad could’ve been better. I think they tried you know, they tried. They held us a grad, so that’s something, because they were talking about not even doing it, so I mean they tried. (Meg’s Interview, 2019)

Generative Dialogue

I just wish it could have been different for them somehow.

Bear the Historian: The graduates’ past experiences of graduation ceremonies have set up their expectations of what their grad should be like. They have seen their older siblings and peers in the years leading up to their year, and they have seen the celebrations of those who came after.

Each of their previous experiences set up their expectations and created anticipation. All that has followed has served as reminders of how their experience was different and what their graduation could not be.

Grandmother Beaver the Worker: People came together to surround the graduates with love and care. They donated dresses, loaned them jewellery, offered their locations for the event, and more that is not always seen. Families, friends, community members, and strangers showed the grads an outpouring of generosity and kindness.

But I worry that the acts of kindness added to the guilt they felt: guilt for wishing it was different,

wishing it could have been like other years, and knowing that everyone was doing the best they

could to make it special for them, but it still not feeling right.

Bear the Historian: The emotion you heard in their stories showed how important that day had become. The dresses. The ceremony. The tradition. The celebration. The emotion speaks of the personal and social significance that graduation holds.

237

Thunder Being the Messenger: You could also hear their expressions of gratitude for the gifts they received. Many of the stories were marked with respect for those who tried to make their day as best as it could be under the circumstances.

It is unfortunate that the Premier and the media saw the High River graduation as a publicity

opportunity. Their presence wasn’t really about or for the grads.

Eagle: Much like you in your research, others would have been thinking about whom the flood is affecting the most. The graduating class would have been at the forefront of many peoples’ minds after the initial evacuation and re-entry into the community. Many of the needs after the flood were on the individual level. Graduation provided an event or platform that would have been seen as reaching many. Consider how you, as a researcher, might use your position and power to offer meaningful outlets and suggestions for people who want to contribute to and support the youth who have experienced a disaster.

I have a responsibility to carry these stories and insights forward.

Buffalo the Gifted: Also, remember your responsibility to the participants, and begin to imagine the ways you can support them through your actions. What will you do to reciprocate these gifts?

I have a responsibility to take action and “do” something that might benefit the participants.

Meaning-Making

Whether the participants said that they “did not really care about grad” or not, they each had a story to tell in relation to that event. Some stories overlapped in focus and sentiment, around: the venue, the picture, the timing, the media, the Premier, and the dresses. Some felt sad/sorry for themselves, while others expressed feeling disappointed for their families. There was a general sense of gratitude for the efforts of those who tried to make the day special for them.

238

While this is just a sampling of the graduates’ stories, I think that the examples are telling of what to do and what not to do for graduation in the wake of a disaster. The grads are and will be very reasonable and accommodating, having been through the disaster themselves and having perspective on what is and is not possible in the aftermath. When it is safe and sensible to do so, the event should be held as closely to the originally planned event as possible. It will never be the same as the event that was scheduled and missed, but it would be ideal for the graduation to have as many of the same practices and traditions, as viable, that the graduates are anticipating.

In the case of the High River graduating class, they would have preferred to have the ceremony in George Lane Park, and they wanted their celebration afterward to be held in their own community. Small details became salient and stark contrasting points—grad in the park is typically bright and sunny, with the grads on the risers and their families on the grass below; where the grad at [Thompson] was held in a dark gym, with grads below and families on the risers. Each difference between the real and the imagined amounted to a break in their expectation of the day, leading them to regard the event as “mock grad.” While time has created distance from the event, I am still aware of my responsibility to have my research give back to the participants in some way. Grad is one area I have been dwelling on.

239

Chapter 4: Synthesis and Discussion

Narrative bricolage: appreciates the notion that all research knowledge is shaped by the types of stories inquirers tell about their topics. Such story types are not innocently constructed but reflect particular narratological traditions: comedy, tragedy, and irony. The bricoleur’s knowledge of the frequently unconscious narrative formula at work in the representation of the research allows a greater degree of insight into the forces that shape the nature of knowledge production. Thus, more complex and sophisticated research emerges from the bricolage. (Kincheloe, 2005b, p. 336)

Bricoleur’s Notes

As the research rounds out with “Synthesis and Discussion,” I attempt to find coherence from many pieces. Through generative dialogues with the holistic teachers and the meaning- making reflections in “Stories and Analysis,” I gained insight into the experiences of the youth in ways that extended beyond listening deeply to their stories, to considering their emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical well-being. Drawing on the generative dialogues and meaning- making summaries from Chapter 3, I considered connections to both the existing literature and my personal insights in the following synthesis discussions.

First, I revisited and expanded upon the themes in the “Meaning-Making Synthesis and

Literature Connections.” Next, I gathered and synthesized the discussion points put forward by each of the teachers—including my own voice as the researcher—and highlighted key terms that resonated with the concepts of well-being in the “Researcher Concerns for Well-Being” and

“Summary Remarks from the Holistic Teachers.”

Under the advisement of Elder Bob Cardinal (personal communication, May 7, 2020), I am including a reflection on “What is Missing?” from the discussion, followed by the

“Limitations” and “Omissions” of the study.

240

Meaning-Making Synthesis and Literature Connections

Surreal Flood Experiences

From their stories, it is apparent that youth are resilient during a disaster. They rushed to support their family, friends, and community in whatever ways they could. Some drove from house to house helping people to evacuate. Others supported their employers during and after the flood. Regardless of how they enacted their care, all of the youth involved in the study took opportunities to support those in their web of relations.

The flood event was remembered and recounted in surreal terms. Ava equated the rushing waters with her recollection of the Titanic movie. This was consistent with youth who made reference to The Wizard of Oz movie in Burton’s (2001) “Tornado Prom” interviews. Zak explained:

I remember driving up there with all my friends like in the backseat and stuff and I remember looking in my rear-view mirror and just seeing like kind of just this like torrent of water kind of rush over the road and hit one of the like ATCO trailers and we’d been there like not even, you know, five, ten minutes ago and I didn’t even notice it. I didn’t see it. So I don’t know how fast it broke over the bank or [unintelligible 00:19:56] but I remember that one because once I looked and then I saw that specific image. Sometimes I remember looking in my rear-view, yeah, and just thinking like oh shit, this really is bad. And then everything kind of went quiet. Like all of us kind of saw it and went quiet and I think that sort of sunk into a lot of us. (Zak’s Interview, 2019)

The description of silences and sinking feelings came up in a few retellings—the unimaginable experiences proving to be a lot to process in those fantastical moments. It is no wonder that survivors make connections to the events in movies; nothing really prepares a person for the sheer force of a natural disaster and little else compares to the experience beyond the simulations created by Hollywood special effects.

241

Post-flood, Ava described seeing the military vehicles moving through town on the news, as being “otherworldly.” Mya told of the ways that refrigerators lined the streets, combined with piles of belongings heaped in yards and waiting to be hauled away. Zak recalled walking through the affluent Beechwood neighbourhood and compared it to a ghost town, where the windows of the houses had been smashed and the homes abandoned. Of note, Beechwood was a neighbourhood that had always flooded in the Spring, yet buyouts for these homes came swiftly—millions of dollars in aid for the millionaires.

During the recovery, living with the surreal became the norm. Yet, many of the youth expressed a longing for a sense of normalcy—where returning to familiar routines and activities have an array of benefits for disaster victims (Norris et al., 2002b). As Emily remembered, “It’s pretty sad, but just having a campfire and hotdogs, [my friends] were all just really happy to be around friends and not have to think about all their things being gone” (Emily’s Interview,

2019). Had the timing of the disaster been different, schools could have been a site of possible sanctuary for the youth (Shepard et al., 2017)—a potential hub of support from teachers and school counsellors; a natural opportunity to access peer supports; and an entry point for procuring psychological supports.

Youths’ Experiences Post-Disaster

Many of the youth identified their mothers, fathers, parents, and partners as their greatest supports; yet, some described not wanting to burden them with their feelings of loss and sadness.

The youth were keenly aware of the added pressures and stresses that their loved ones were under, and did not want to burden them with their own problems; as Ella’s interview (2019) highlights, “I think of my mom whenever I think of the flood just because like it hurt her so bad that we lost everything” and “I had felt like I couldn’t talk to my mom about it even if I was

242 feeling sad about missing something or whatever because I didn’t want to make her sad.”

Similarly, Gwen (Interview, 2019) indicated that it would have been nice to have a place to share stories with people beyond her immediate support system (more discussion to follow in “Needs of Youth Post-Disaster”).

Some youth who were employed through the summer needed to step back from their jobs, as was the case for Jodi:

I'd been there since the previous August or something, so almost a year. But I tried to go back to work but, I don’t know, I was too emotional. So they were like you don't need to like come back yet” (Jodi’s Interview, 2019)

Others were grateful to have employment that was continuous through the summer. Tia described working post-flood:

I think working for the town I was really busy because I remember like once we were allowed back in like we would like pressure wash stuff. Like you’d be like oh, you’re just going to pressure wash your fence and pressure wash somebody’s lawn, and like weird stuff like that, because we had to pressure wash everything I think, and we had to get the mud off. (Tia’s Interview, 2019)

Kim noted that her friends who worked for the town were also getting paid to do odd jobs, recognizing that “the interesting thing with the town too was like a lot of the adults were busy with their own houses so a lot of random jobs got given to us” (Kim’s Interview, 2019). Many youth worked in unpaid labour, unloading damaged property from people’s basements. Some, like Dianne, had planned to work but no longer had a job for the summer:

Everyone’s houses were ruined and it’s just so like, my summer was ruined, my parents lost their businesses and a ton of money … like we thought grad was going to be cancelled, we didn’t have like that fun final summer to like party and say good bye. I obviously lost my job since the town was shut down, so I wasn’t able to save any money for university … Well, and like obviously going in and literally cleaning out my [partner]

243

at the time’s house, my aunts and uncles houses, just like their neighbours’ houses. (Dianne’s Interview, 2019)

The summer after high school was not what the graduating youth had pictured or hoped it would be. Hardships were amplified personally and across families (Norris et al., 2002a).

Unforeseen Challenges

As an extension of the previous section, the young adults described the unforeseen challenges of finding meaningful work. Buffalo the Gifted teaches us to use our gifts fully, yet for some of the youth it can be difficult to find ways to share those gifts in satisfying careers; while I recognize that a person’s gifts can be shared in many ways, meaningful work is one area that can increase feelings of well-being and happiness.

Of the nine participants interviewed, two were working in their desired fields: Katie knew what she wanted to do as her career, and worked through the technical training program while she was still in school; and Laura upgraded her high school courses and went to college to secure work in her desired profession. Both described the satisfaction of working in jobs that they enjoyed and found rewarding.

Like Laura, Calan upgraded classes after high school. In her interview she described the challenges she experienced in life after high school, stating:

I moved to [the city], the economy was terrible, I couldn't find a job, I was struggling to

pay rent. All the unemployment stuff, struggling to make it on my own and slowly been

building and now I'm in post-secondary, so that's always nice. (Calan’s Interview, 2019)

Both Calan and Julie began their post-secondary education programs a few years after high school and had a clear vision of what they wanted to do for work when they were done.

Hayley earned an undergraduate degree, but could not secure work that was associated with her field of study; she is considering her options, yet did not expect it to be so difficult to

244 find work in the field after she had completed her program. Mark also completed a degree, but was not interested in pursuing positions related to his specialization; at the time of his interview, he was trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life, while being okay with not having all of the answers now.

Becky had completed a bachelor’s degree and had earned a diploma as well, but made no mention of meaningful employment. Joni had earned a degree, and returned to school to complete a second degree. Janelle struggled with not being the right person for the job she had wanted, saying:

I learned you can do all the right things and be the right person and still things won’t work out. I almost had a job and it was kind of interesting. I’m happy to do my masters, like it was an awesome plan, but like if I had been offered a job it would have been more vacation and more money and it would have just been kind of awesome too. (Janelle’s Interview, 2019)

Despite this disappointment, Janelle simultaneously expressed satisfaction in being able to work on her master’s degree.

While attaining education and employment were discussed as challenges for some, others struggled with changing peer groups and lack of family support. As Drolet et al. (2018) found, family and friends were among the most important supports for youth in their post-disaster lives.

Of all of the participants, the ones who spoke of losing their friend groups and/or not being able to count on their families during and around the time of the flood, were the young adults I worried about the most. For these youth, their webs of relationships were not as strong as for others in the study who felt unwavering love and support from family and friends. Flood or no flood, these would be the students I would have worried about in my class as well.

Not all youth who lost touch with peers from high school expressed sadness or concern; this was largely due to the ability of some youth to change peer groups as their interests and

245 experiences changed. The youth whose well-being I questioned, were the youth who felt that they had lost their friends after the flood and described the difficulties of making new friends. As

Cohen (2006) suggest, social-emotional skills are important competencies for quality of life.

Similarly, Brendtro, Brokenleg, and Van Bockern (1990) and Kempf (2018) list belonging as a key feature of wellness. Further, Jones et al. (2009), Lai et al. (2018), and Norris et al. (2002b) identify social support as an indicator of resiliency and vulnerability in youth post-disaster.

Positive relationships and social needs factor into every discussion of holistic wellbeing, as well (Absolon, 2010, 2016; Archibald, 2008a; Battiste, 2000; Bell, 2014; Cajete, 1994;

Calliou, 1995; Carriere & Richardson, 2013; Cohen, 2006; Elder Bob Cardinal, personal communication, September, 2016 to July, 2017; Graveline, 1998; Hart, 2002; Hill, 2014; Kempf,

2018; Latremouille, 2016; University of Alberta, 2016; Wenger-Nabigon, 2010). While studies and experts point to the importance of social well-being, it is one aspect of education that continues to be treated as secondary to the academic curriculum in schools.

Perseverance and Accomplishments

For the youth in the study, the path to their desired careers might not have been straightforward or what they anticipated, but they all appeared to be taking steps to get themselves into the work they wanted; or, they were in the process of re-imagining what their futures could look like.

Much of what the youth had accomplished and were proud of doing, connected to elements of holistic well-being. In the area of emotional learning, the youth described: returning to high school to upgrade their courses; balancing the responsibilities of a family and/or children while going to college; and reflecting inward to consider what—career paths, life goals, social activities, and alternative pursuits—would bring them happiness in their lives. With regard to

246 spiritual learning and connections that nurture the soul, some youth described: valuing opportunities for volunteerism and generosity; feeling loved and respected by the people in their lives; and caring for those around them. Considering their mental learning, the youth continue: gathering knowledge as they pursue further education and work experience in a variety of areas; connecting with family, friends, and/or community; and searching for opportunities to enrich their lives and the lives of others. By way of physical learning, the youth offered: personal examples of surviving loss in relation to the flood and/or the death of family members; substantial contributions of storytelling to this research; and creating safety for others through their work in their homes and community, post-flood.

I have consciously chosen to use the holistic teachings to frame the responses in this synthesis. By doing so, I hope to show the fit of accomplishments, values, and emphases from the youths’ lives and stories as they map onto a holistic well-being framework. The aspirations of the youth support their overall well-being. They are innately striving towards balance, despite coming from an education system that privileges academic success over social, emotional, physical, and spiritual well-being. I am inclined to imagine how much better prepared for life, future generations of students might be, if the education system they experienced focused on well-being education in support of living well.

Relationships that Support Well-Being

The youth who reported having strong networks of support—from family, friends, partners, pets, and place—were more inclined to downplay their losses from the flood. They often looked to the brighter side, suggesting: it could have been worse. The youth whose social support systems were strained, shared more of their hardships from the time of the disaster. In many cases, the losses were shared as compounding. While the sample size for the study was

247 relatively low, it seems worthwhile to note this observation as a potential avenue for further study.

Relationships that Change Over Time

As the youth transitioned from life-in-schools to life-out-of-schools, some described the move from their parents’ homes to life with partners, friends, and on their own. The youth recounted the challenges of having to pay rent; not having their own medical and dental coverage; becoming a parent themselves; missing their parents; and, “learning to adult.” After the flood, some needed or chose to return home for a time. Others had parents who moved away from the High River area entirely. The participants did not dwell on how the parent-child relationships changed over time, but their stories highlighted the many ways that they did, primarily with respect to physical proximity and new responsibilities.

Changing peer groups have been discussed previously, but I am inclined to revisit the notion of well-being. The youth specifically told of their decisions to end and distance themselves from the relationships that they felt were unhealthy. Conversely, they were inclined to nurture and maintain relationships that supported their overall well-being. Interestingly, this included relationships with family members as well.

Relationships to Place

The town of High River changed dramatically after the flood. Some of the participants shared that they no longer felt that it was home, or that it would always be home just not in the same way. Others still feel a strong relationship with the community and have chosen to live in

High River to this day. For Natasha, the physical spaces and nature of the area provide connection and grounding. For Zak, the absences of touchstone places amplify his sense of loss

248 and alienation from the town, as pieces of the town he remembers are no longer there

(Cruikshank, 1990; Markides, 2020b; Strong-Wilson, 2008).

Relationships to place tend to be more significant in Indigenous communities. However, I was interested to see what responses this line of questioning might have yielded. Perhaps not surprisingly, I would argue that none of the participants expressed a deep and longstanding relationship with the land, nor with the more-than-human relatives in the area.

Alternatively, I was glad to have asked the question about place, as I might not otherwise have heard Zak’s account of the touchstone places that held the memories of his youth.

Shifting Priorities: Advice to Their Younger Selves and Youth

Without exception, the youth in the study were all forward looking. Despite the flood, they maintained positive outlooks on life. Many offered the wisdom that “it gets better.”

I was struck by the overwhelmingly sage advice the youth would have offered to their younger selves, as well as to other youth living through disaster. These thoughtful suggestions include: relax more; don’t stress out; don’t worry about what other people think of you; there’s no need to act tough, reach out for support when you need it; have some fun, but be responsible; spend time with your friends; try new things; be open to new experiences; nothing will go quite as you have planned it; go to school before you have kids; learn from your mistakes; and look for and seize the opportunities in your life. Again, I am compelled to point out that the suggestions made by the youth are consistent with aims of holistic well-being frameworks. They espouse physical, emotional, spiritual, mental, and relational well-being.

I also found it telling that all participants were adamant that they would not have taken their own advice. This may be rich site for future study, as I am curious to know if the youths’

249 steadfastness to their ideas correlates to their resiliency when facing new challenges as they transition to life out of schools and out of their parents’ homes.

Needs of Youth Post-Disaster

Further to the wise advice shared by youth for other youth living through disaster, their suggestions for post-disaster response are insightful and worthwhile considerations for a variety of people and groups. They recognize that there may be significant needs for mental health supports for youth and their families and friends, post-disaster. As such, the youth advocated for clear advertising and access to therapists, psychologists, and counsellors, that could be made available in town, at the evacuation centres, and on-line (Bryant & Litz, 2009; Goldmann &

Galea, 2014). Like Kar (2009) and Norris et al. (2002b), they suggest that group therapy with peers, family-centred interventions, structured discussions, and/or places to share stories could benefit youth after a disaster. They express knowledge and concern that the disaster may contribute to instantiations of PTSD, which is again supported in the literature (Brown et al.,

2019; Goldmann & Galea, 2014; Kar, 2009; Norris et al., 2002b; Shepard et al., 2017).

Considering more holistic well-being, the youth advise: giving people time, space, and support to grieve; inviting youth to tell their stories; providing spaces for youth to gather or to be alone; offering youth options for purposeful, paid work during the post-disaster recovery; recognizing that youth will meet their well-being needs in different ways; supporting youth with monetary and other resources; assuring that concerns over school requirements are dealt with in a timely manner; helping youth navigate insurance processes; and acknowledging that losses can take many forms—from physical items to places, friendships, and trust. Interestingly, none of the youth cautioned against the potential increase in substance abuse that may be associated with post-disaster life (Goldmann & Galea, 2014; Norris et al., 2002b), but I have included it here.

250

Graduation

While graduation was not a central focus of the research, I became attuned to the importance of the topic in the first few interviews. The research participants brought it up in the stories they chose to tell. Sometimes they stated an aloofness to the event, but the stories spoke otherwise. Similarities emerged, as the young adults expressed their gratitude for those who tried to make the day special for them, while simultaneously describing the aspects of the event that were disappointing. Listening with my heart, I could hear the angst in their accounts—a lingering guilt for wishing it could have been different.

In their study of anticipation, Leaf Van Boven and Laurence Ashworth (2007) found that expectations of future positive events conjured heightened associations and emotions, such that the anticipation, itself, often eclipsed the lived and the remembered emotional pleasure of the actual occurrences. In the case of the graduating class, many of the youth had been anticipating the experience of their graduation day for months, and potentially years. Sheila explained:

Yeah, I’m, when it comes to ceremonies I'm very traditional. I was, I've been to, all my friends graduated, I've had graduating friends from my Grade 9 year up until three years after I graduated. They're always held in George Lane Park under the gazebo, normally in the blistering heat and the stupid grad gowns that don't breathe. And then we either go to the rec centre and have grad on ice or, not on ice but on the arena, or we go to the Memorial Centre and we have grad there. (Sheila’s Interview, 2019)

Having their graduation to look forward to may also have served as a buoying support for the grads through the time of the flood, as positive anticipation has been shown to bolster coping, problem-solving, and recovery in response to stress (Monfort, Stroup, & Waugh, 2015).

Knowing that their graduation did not happen in the ways that they had pictured or hoped, I bore witness to the long-term and residual effects of their disappointments, which were amplified over time. Unlike their stoic accounts of the flood and flood recovery, the youths’ tales

251 of graduation harboured their feelings of loss, anger, and frustration. High school graduation is sometimes regarded as a rite of passage from one stage of life to another. For the young adults who lived through the 2013 Alberta Floods, “Grad 2013” is, for many, a bittersweet memory.

Researcher Concerns for Well-Being

In gathering my discussion threads from the generative dialogues, it became immediately clear that I had done much of the “talking.” During the ethnographic interviews, I listened, holistically; but in the generative dialogue, I talked more than anyone else. In some respects, I am embarrassed, because the holistic teachers are like Elders and I should have been more attentive to their teachings; specifically, I could have given more space for their voices in the discussions. In other regards, I know myself as a learner—I tend to process my thoughts, questions, and worries by talking about them with others.

By “voicing” the multiple perspectives of the holistic teachers, I was able to view the stories from different vantage points. I created a space for further dialogue about the participants’ responses, while keeping the work my own. The process allowed me to approach the analysis as though I were part of a research team. As I considered the different foci of each teacher, I had to read and re-read the stories from their points of view and make observations and comments accordingly. In doing so, I had to make space between the teachers’ voices and my own. I allowed myself to speak candidly throughout the generative dialogues, where the talking points of the teachers were more purposefully crafted. While the idea of animating the holistic teachers may seem arbitrary, I was cognizant that the voices should be distinct and consistent, as not to have the dialogues come off as monologues.

I am interested to see the nature of my comments and questions, as I synthesize my concerns about well-being. Specifically, I have brought my comments forward so that I might

252 read my thoughts and discussion points against each other. I realize that this is repetitive, but I believe there is something to be learned—about my research self—from listening to my voice in the research.

Surreal Flood Experiences

There is so much information packed into these stories—the details are layered and nuanced.

With so many intriguing threads, I need to approach this theme as ripe for critical analysis. I ask the holistic teachers’ support in interrogating the moments that felt surreal to the participants.

Zak’s response was vulnerable and honest.

“You think you’re going to react better in an emergency but at one point it was kind of just like I almost needed someone telling me to move and things. I kind of just stood there dumbly like looking around at things.” (Interview, 2019).

[Bear the Historian asks: What do youth need when witnessing disaster?]

Safety?

The presence of supports extends to our more-than-human relations (Abram, 1996). Many of the youth talked about not wanting to leave their pets behind, or having to leave their pets behind and then worrying about them until they were rescued.

She remembered those teachings—to pray—in her time of need.

Youths’ Experiences Post-Disaster

The participants’ stories show so much humility and strength.

Though maybe they carried twice the stress and worry—their own and their loved ones’.

I worry about the emotional needs of the youth, especially when they felt that they “couldn’t” talk to their parents, like when Ella said, “I had felt like I couldn’t talk to my mom about it even if I was feeling sad about missing something or whatever because I didn’t want to make her sad.”

The youth did not want to burden their parents in an already difficult time.

In this case, the youths’ compassion could be compounding their sadness and loss.

253

In ethical caring relationships, the experience of caring can be positive experiences for all of those involved (Gilligan, 1982; Noddings, 1984, 2012).

Unforeseen Challenges

The challenges are as diverse as the participants.

Many of the participants struggled with [finding jobs]. Even those who had earned a university degree were finding it difficult to procure employment in their given fields.

For the youth who cannot be included under their parents’ coverage, they need a job in order to have a health and dental plan. Some go without until they can get a job or get into school.

As Hayley noted, it might be helpful if more careers offered internships, field experience, practicums, and/or service learning opportunities.

While many high schools offer pathways to vocational training and the trades, it might be helpful if they and/or universities expanded programming to provide routes into professional careers.

[Grandmother Beaver the Worker’s] suggestion [of reaching out to Elders, taken broadly] might work two-fold: first providing expert knowledge to mentees, and second as a built-in support mechanism where the mentors act as supports and advocates for the youth.

I remember how powerful I found Rebecca’s comment about making a conscious effort to do things that made her happy, that she could not just sit around and expect that it would come to her.

The youth demonstrate such strength and wisdom—with an openness to learning.

Perseverance and Accomplishments

It is interesting that all of the young adults went to university, college, or took other technical programs in the past six years.

I wonder if that influenced their decisions to be part of the study?

In both instances [of youth getting the support they needed], it took someone listening, in a position of power, to make a big difference in the lives of the youth. Those acts of kindness are also the reason that Anya will be done her program a year sooner than not, and Carla finished school with less debt than she anticipated.

254

Education is valued and valuable. I am biased in my role as an educator, but I appreciate the enthusiasm and pride each participant displayed as they shared their success stories.

Relationships that Support Well-Being

While the responses varied, they all described having supports in their lives.

In the wake of disaster, it can be surprising and humbling to see who comes through for you (and who does not) in your time of need.

Relationships that Change Over Time

I remember hearing about all of those deaths in the first year or two after the flood.

Mostly accidents, some involving substance use, and one suicide. It was a lot of tragedy for one community to handle, especially after, and potentially owing to, the disaster.

Those stories are part of the reason I began this work. I worried for the youth who experienced the disaster and wondered what was sustaining them in their lives after.

During the interviews, I worried for the participants who said that they cut ties, or needed a clean break, specifically when they assumed the blame for not having their past friendships carry forward. Not that everyone needs to keep their friends from high school, but I do think that everyone needs friends of some kind.

[Eagle explains: Relationships are also in a state of flux….]

So is true of our romantic relationships.

Some grow stronger with time, while others run their course.

Some people grow together, while others grow apart.

Relationships to Place

You can hear that in the stories of some of the participants, where High River doesn’t feel like the same town they grew up in. Some neighbourhoods are completely gone. Businesses too.

I hope that I reaffirmed Zak’s experience [of feeling loss of place-based memories (Cruikshank, 1990; Markides, 2020b)], as it was strikingly similar to my own.

For some, it has pushed them away. For others, it has brought them back.

255

There are also those who feel that they don’t have those connections anywhere. That worries me.

[The youths’] experiences and relationships are so varied.

Shifting Priorities: Advice to Their Younger Selves and Youth

I found myself commenting on their wisdom and maturity, again and again.

A lot of this learning seems to come from experience. Living how they want to live.

Making their own choices. Making their own mistakes. And learning.

[Thunder Being the Messenger asks: What are you learning from your experience of listening empathetically to them?]

Great question. My initial reactions are as a mother and educator—emotional reactions.

I worry that they have to struggle to pay rent, or choose an educational path, or find a job; let alone, try drugs, navigate a pregnancy during high school, or leave an abusive partner.

I also hear the strength and perseverance; humility and openness [as they go back to upgrade].

[Grandmother Beaver the Worker asks: How might you show generosity, kindness, and care for the participants in ways that other people in their lives cannot?]

I had not thought about it like that before. With storywork, I am accountable to the principles: respect, responsibility, reciprocity, reverence, holism, inter-relatedness, and synergy.

I need to live these principles in the story gathering, as well as in the story sharing.

Needs of Youth Post-Disaster

This might be one of the richest areas of the research.

Asking the youth what they needed has yielded so many insightful suggestions.

It really was a scary time [being evacuated], and fears were compounded by having so much that was unknown.

It took nearly two weeks before people were allowed back into the town.

That was a long time to not know what was going on. A long time to speculate.

256

It is difficult to know which of these resources the youth would have accessed, if any. Many of them indicated that they had not heard of any supports, nor were they sure if they or their friends would have accessed them had they been there.

The youth have made a strong case for having mental health supports available for groups— be they familial groupings, or peer groupings.

Some parents let their kids throw parties in their empty basements.

I can picture the gutted-out spaces;

they would not have had to worry about them wrecking things.

The youth could be looked to as an untapped labour force in post-disaster communities. Providing them with safe job opportunities would lessen the burden on the overstretched adults, while giving a financial leg up to the young adults preparing for the next stages of their lives.

So much wisdom, we just needed to ask.

It can be hard to explain the losses of intangible things [like touchstone memories (Cruikshank, 1990; Markides, 2020b; Strong-Wilson, 2008)], but the need to grieve is very real.

There was a reminder: to keep in touch.

We see this happening a lot now too, with the COVID-19 pandemic.

People are making a conscious effort to check in on one-another and to be there for whatever people need (e.g. grocery deliveries, a friendly call, etc.).

I interviewed some people [who were already living on their own at the time of the flood]. Their challenges and supports were definitely different from the youth who were still living at home.

[Excitement for new businesses] is a positive note to end on.

Graduation

I just wish it could have been different for them somehow.

But I worry that the acts of kindness added to the guilt the youth felt: guilt for wishing their graduation was different, wishing it could have been like other years, and knowing that everyone was doing the best they could to make it special for them, but it still not feeling right.

257

It is unfortunate that the Premier and the media saw the High River graduation as a publicity opportunity. Their presence wasn’t really about or for the grads.

I have a responsibility to carry these stories and insights forward.

I have a responsibility to take action and “do” something that might benefit the participants.

Reflections on Researcher Concerns for Well-Being

It seems to me that I spent a lot of time in the dialogue expressing my concerns for the youth. I worried that they carried twice the stress by not wanting to burden their parents; I worried about their emotional needs; I worried that they struggled to pay rent, choose an education path, and find jobs; I worried even more as they described trying drugs, being pregnant in high school (and keeping it a secret), and needing to leave an abusive partner; and I worried that they felt guilty for wanting their grad to be different despite all of the kindnesses they had been shown. Beyond that, I was angry for the students, to know that the Premier of Alberta, at that time, Alison Redford, came to speak at their graduation ceremony and invited the media—

Her actions were not for the graduating class.

I appreciated the times when the holistic teachers asked me questions. They made me think about my role, differently. I needed to think about my responsibilities to the participants, their stories, and any teachings they yielded. When Thunder Being the Messenger asked me what

I was learning from listening empathetically, he helped me gain self-knowledge about my reactions to the stories—my emotions were guiding my reactions. Grandmother Beaver the

Worker prodded further, helping me to see that my role in the researcher relationship needed to move beyond that of carer (Noddings, 1984, 2012), to one of consciousness-raising and action

(Freire, 1970/1993). Asking: what could I do for the research participants that other people in their lives cannot?

258

This question brings me back to my responsibilities in the work—my responsibilities to the storywork principles. I need to carry the stories forward and to take meaningful action, based on the teachings that the stories have afforded, to make a difference in the lives of the participants and in the lives of other disaster victims.

Taking the idea of reciprocity further, I noticed points in the conversation where I offered pragmatic ideas for how things could be done differently or improved, such as: having high schools and post-secondary schools consider creating more experiential learning options within professional degree programs; advocating for more options for youth to access medical and dental coverage after graduation; considering the role of Elders, taken broadly, in the lives of youth; suggesting that well-being education could be created and taught in schools; bringing forward suggestions for group supports and gathering places; and putting forward the idea that youth might be seen as an untapped work force in post-disaster recovery, where they get paid for providing a beneficial service to the community. As I have said, again and again: the youth offer so much wisdom, we just needed to ask and be prepared to listen.

Summary Remarks from the Holistic Teachers

Remarks from Bear the Historian (Emotional Learning)

From their reflections on your questions, the youth show their emotional learning from life during and after the flood, and life after high school. As they talked about their flood experiences, it was evident that many struggled to make sense of the events as they happened.

Some found that the situation had immobilized them; while others jumped into action, potentially putting themselves in harm’s way.

Movies became their only frame of reference to make sense of the fantastical happenings, such as: floating cars, erupting manhole covers, submerged buildings, and roads turned rushing

259 rivers. Going back into the town at night, their depictions were haunting. Several described silences that were racked with emotions.

What do youth need when witnessing disaster? Communication, was one answer that emerged. The cell towers were down and the youth struggled with the inability to connect with their families and friends. They could not get the information they needed, including: reports on the status or whereabouts of loved ones, directions when main roads were closed, and updates about town as time went on. As Jodi said, “information is really helpful when you're scared”

(Interview, 2019). There were a few youth who talked about a chat group that had formed out of necessity during the flood, and how that has reinforced those relationships and remained an important line of communication to this day.

While none of the participants mentioned that they had accessed any mental health supports, they all suggested that the supports were much needed. What stood out from this was their interest in having group gatherings for support, storytelling, and healing—as families or with their peer groups. Their suggestion was consistent with Norris et al.’s (2002b) recommendation that supports might better serve the youth by addressing the needs of families as a whole.

They demonstrated compassion for others going through disasters—including their parents, family friends, peers, and the residents of Fort McMurray who experienced the devastating wildfires in 2016. As they recounted the post-flood recovery, they described holding people as they wept over lost photos and Christmas decorations, and were empathetic for those they perceived had it worse than themselves (e.g. youth who were living on their own, had no parental supports, or lost their homes). Another emergent finding came as two of the participants

260 referred to the losses of touchstone memories, attached to: sentimental objects (Strong-Wilson,

2008), and physical places (Cruikshank, 1990; Markides, 2020b).

While the youth mourned the losses over touchstone memories from their childhood, they also grieved the losses of the memories they would never have from their graduation. Their past experiences had set up expectations of what and how their own graduation experience should have been. The emotions they expressed were palpable, signaling how important the event had become to them, personally and socially.

As they considered other challenges they have faced, the youth offered insight into their struggles with finding employment, regardless of education and qualification. They have had to show patience and persistence. Other significant difficulties include: making friends, and making themselves happy; as one participant noted, it can be a lot of effort to make yourself happy.

Despite everything else, the stories showed the many ways the youth excelled at balancing their responsibilities, demonstrating compassion for others, and remaining optimistic about future possibilities.

Remarks from Grandmother Beaver the Worker (Spiritual Learning)

Spiritual well-being can be found by looking inward to find the connections that nurture one’s soul (Elder Bob Cardinal personal communication September, 2016 to July, 2017; Palmer,

2017). Many of the youth in the study have demonstrated self-knowledge, choosing to let go of the relationships that did not support or promote their well-being and maintaining the connections with people who show them love and respect. At times, pets were credited with providing the participants with love and connection to the world beyond themselves.

261

One participant shared her spiritual connection with the more-than-human world—to the water and to the trees, the area along the river feeds her soul. Those that did not have that strong connection to the land, were also looking for places to nourish their spirits. The places they were seeking were more for solitude or social gathering, wanting to: be together, have fun, escape to, tell stories, see their friends, find intimacy, find solitude, and find normalcy, amidst the chaos.

While she intimated that praying was not something she did regularly, one of the young adults recounted how she insisted that her brother pray with her as they drove to safety during the flood. Another participant’s story gave rise to the benefits of care ethics (Gilligan, 1982;

Noddings, 1984, 2012)—where the caring exchanges that took place after the flood were often restorative—nurturing the spirit. As the youth helped each other to clean out their houses, they extended the practices of generosity and care beyond themselves.

When it came time for their graduation ceremony, the youth received an outpouring of generosity, love, and care. Family, friends, and strangers donated dresses, loaned the youth jewellery, and offered alternative locations for the event.

Remarks from Thunder Being the Messenger (Mental Learning)

The young adults were very generous with their stories. They expressed gratitude for the gifts of: support from their families and friends, monetary funds that helped with their educational pursuits, lessons learned in life, and efforts to make their graduation day special.

Some youth were grateful to have had paid employment through the summer after the flood, while others had to take time away from their jobs to grieve—either way, the youth were making choices that supported their personal well-being.

262

The youth took on so many responsibilities during and after the disaster. They empathized with experiences of their parents, family members, and friends—often shouldering extra burdens to protect their loved ones from additional stress and pain. Some of their stories were difficult to hear, especially when it came to abusive partners, financial and familial struggles, and potentially dangerous life choices. The youth recognized that maintaining connections was a choice.

When asked, the young adults had boundless suggestions for mental health and wellness supports. They felt that there was a real need for therapists, psychologists, and counsellors, to be available in the town, at the evacuation centres, and on-line. Looking inwards and empathizing with those around them, the youth advocated for programming to support people dealing with PTSD. They described different scenarios for group therapy that they thought youth might attend.

With self-knowledge, the youth asserted that they were learning to: grieve their losses, be okay with not having everything figured out, and be persistent and persevere when they really wanted something for their futures.

Remarks from Buffalo the Gifted (Physical Learning)

It was evident from their stories that the youth tried to create safety for their parents.

This was consistent with Shepard et al.’s (2017) observations that the youth in their post-disaster study were likely trying to protect their overwhelmed parents by not expressing their own worries and fears. During the post-disaster clean up, some youth benefited from having the strong physical presence of loved ones in their lives. In those moments, it helped that their supports were just there.

263

After the disaster, many of the youth maintained connections with the people who walked alongside them, creating conditions for safety and offering strength. The young adults recognized that, sometimes you just need an extra pair of hands. Many found it worthwhile to reach out and be there for your friends. Unfortunately, compounding losses within the community continued to bring people together long after the flood.

Many of the youth described challenges as learning experiences that shaped their lives and made them who they are today. Their stories speak of survival and growth. The gifts of experiences—good, bad, or otherwise—were not wasted. The youth have a responsibility to use their gifts, fully; their accomplishments include: going back to school, excelling in school, and/or completing a specialized program. As originally noted by Eagle, all nine of the participants in the study have earned or are working towards degrees, apprenticeships, technical certificates, or other post-secondary programs, and two are now working on their second degrees.

Astutely, the youth remarked that adulthood comes with its own set of responsibilities.

For some, it was a lot to learn all at once. It is important for youth to have strong support networks that create safety and nurture their gifts as they learn new life skills.

Remarks from Eagle7 (Guiding Vision and Holistic View)

The priorities of the youth came into sharper focus during the disaster. They made choices to be with friends and family. Selflessly, they helped with sand bags, looked after siblings, and tried to help their parents and other community members. Inspired to take action, they immediately made connections within their web of relations (Little Bear, 2000). They

7 In the remarks from the holistic teachers’ synthesis sections, I took efforts to reword and rework their previous thoughts and statements into more cohesive articulations of the four directions teachings and learnings. Interestingly, Eagles read as a cohesive piece with very few changes, additions, or revisions. As such, I left the original statements relatively intact as a way of honouring the consistency and message of Eagle’s guiding vision and holistic view.

264 took on responsibilities that were meaningful—providing them with a sense of purpose and a worthwhile distraction during the otherwise unsettling time.

It was telling that the youth described various webs of relationships alongside their harrowing stories of life after the flood. They told of connecting with friends in chat groups, staying at the homes of friends and family, and receiving support from family and friends in multiple ways. Sometimes the relationships were strained, but it was often the web of relations that sustained the disaster victims through the crisis. When asked, the youth were quick to name their supports.

In contrast, I find it telling how youth struggle with the notion of being “independent.”

The ideal of individualism is very much a western construct (Ermine, 1995; Graveline, 2000), whereas being accountable to a web of relations is a central aspect of an Indigenous worldview

(Little Bear, 2000). In our dialogue about “Youths’ Experiences Post-Disaster” it was evident that the youth were making choices that reflected their care for others. They were being responsible for their connections within the web of relations. Yet, many of the challenges described here reflect efforts to be more independent and rely on themselves. Many of their relationships changed with partners, place(s), friends, and family. Change doesn’t have to signal a move towards independence and alone-ness. Significantly, an individual’s well-being is partially contingent on the overall health, well-being, and strength of their network of relations, and vice versa. This is true of vibrantly sufficient systems (Davis & Simmt, 2003; Davis,

Sumara, & Luce-Kapler, 2008).

The world is in an ever-changing state of flux (Little Bear, 2000, 2016). Similarly, relationships are also in a state of flux. Some will strengthen with time; others will fade away. It

265 is a naturally occurring part of life. We seek out relationships and connections that support our well-being. As our needs and interests change, so do our friendships.

Listening to the stories, it is apparent that the youth were speaking about life and living well. They considered their personal well-being and showed concern for the well-being of others.

It is encouraging to hear how the youth are held and hold others in these webs of relations in integral ways. Much can be learned from their examples. They have a lot of wisdom to share, if people are willing to listen.

What is Missing?

In conversation with Elder Bob Cardinal (personal communication, May 7, 2020), I have returned to this section of the work to consider what might be missing. It is with distance and through reflection that I see that I have not spoken to how the directions ‘fit together’ in a holistic frame. It is only when all four directions are in dialogue together, that balance is seen.

For the youth, balance came through in their stories as they described their supports, relationships, needs, and accomplishments. They were speaking to their emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical well-being. In some cases, the youth were expressing how their needs were being met; and in other instances, the youth were voicing what they needed.

In dialogue with the holistic teachers, significant foci emerged. As I reviewed and reworked the “Summary Remarks from the Holistic Teachers,” I highlighted in bold the language that was indicative of the four-directions teachers’ perspectives and values. Bringing the language forward, I created a “Well-Being Needs and Aptitudes” visual (see Figure 1) to illustrate the ways that the various well-being needs and aptitudes had presented in the stories told by the youth. There is some overlap in the enactments of well-being, because the four areas are not wholly separate—they do not exist in isolation from one-another. For example: engaging

266 in meaningful work satisfies multiple dimensions of well-being and living well. It may also be important to note that the lists combine conversations about the youths’ post-disaster responses and their stories about life after high school. The language associated with the holistic teachers is strengths-based, but it also shows areas where the youth were supported by others.

Figure 1. Well-Being Needs and Aptitudes

267

Significantly, the holistic view is universally about relationships and connections. Well- being, then, is about belonging and being accountable to others in webs of relationships. Balance exists when all areas of well-being are addressed in some way—from within and from without— relationships are sustaining. Relationships—with people, places, and more-than-human relatives—are purposeful, two-way channels of care-giving and care-receiving, towards, individual and collective, well-being and balance.

Limitations

Recruitment and Sample Size

Being a qualitative research project, I did not need to gather the stories from a large number of participants. Instead, I interviewed a total of nine young adults who graduated in

2013, while living in or around High River, Alberta. Because the sample size is small, I am not looking for generalizability across the data. Nor can I ensure that the participants do not know each other, or are demographically diverse.

Learning that all of the participants had engaged in some form of education after high school, I wondered how many of the 2013 graduates had not gone on to continuing education opportunities—how might their stories have differed and/or expanded our understanding of post- disaster lives of youth and their transition from life-in-schools to life-out-of-schools, if at all?

Additionally, I did not ask the participants what drew them to the study, which might have been interesting information. I knew the approximate ages of the participants and their genders, but I did not see these or other demographic details as central to the study, especially in light of the anonymizing process.

268

Novice Bricoleur

Another potential limitation for this study was in my use of bricolage. As previously described in Chapter 2, bricolage is a lifelong endeavour (Kincheloe, 2001). I am at the beginning of my research career, and can only base my choices and responses to the research on my knowledge of the methodologies and research tools available to me at this time. That is not to say that I was in error to choose this approach, but rather to recognize my own limitations within the scope of my experience to this point. By beginning as a bricoleur, I will continue to grow in skill and dexterity with each project.

Using bricolage, I learned to trust myself in the research process and took risks along the way. I tried to be thoughtful in my decision-making, while always revisiting the storywork principles as my guide. From my years as a Montessori educator, I was comfortable sharing power in the research relationships as I do in my teaching. I did not have to control every aspect of the work. Instead I remained open to the emergent thoughts and possibilities. On the outside this may have come across as discomfort in my role as researcher. However, for me, I needed to rid myself of having a set agenda for the work so that I could be open and responsive to where the participants and their stories were taking me. In this case, many of the participants talked about their graduation day and the challenges they had with finding employment; I provided a space where they could speak openly about their experiences.

As I stated earlier, I did not set out to conduct research around well-being. Listening with my mind, body, spirit, and emotion made me attuned to the well-being of the youth as it presented in their stories. Taking a holistic approach to the research shaped my: decisions as a bricoleur, interactions with the participants, engagement with their stories, and conceptual understanding overall.

269

Conceptualizing the Conceptual Framework

As the conceptual framework was emergent, it blends together concepts from multiple methodologies, including: storywork principles (Archibald 2008a, 2008b), and holistic teachings

(Elder Bob Cardinal, personal communication, May 7, 2020, September, 2016 to July, 2017;

Latremouille, 2016; University of Alberta, 2016). The framework worked for me and my conception of the research, but it may not be readily transferrable or translatable to other projects or researchers’ needs. I had to trust that it would work for me and the needs of this research. I revisited the conceptual framework and tinkered with its structure, as needed. It, too, was in constant flux.

Omissions

Well-Being Concerns

During the interviews, there were times where I had more acute concerns for the participants’ well-being and mental health. On three occasions I brought up the options for seeking out additional support (e.g. through health link, family doctors, and on-campus resources). In one case I called the participant back shortly after the interview had ended to see if they were doing okay, to express my concern for them, and to offer guidance if they were not.

These pieces of the work do not appear in the transcripts or analysis, but they were present and a conscious part of the research process. I wanted the participants to feel cared-for

(Noddings, 1984, 2012) throughout the research. As they shared the gift of their stories with me,

I reciprocated by listening deeply and showing care.

No One Mentioned God

Interestingly, when asked who or what were their greatest supports, none of the youth mentioned God or religion as a source of strength or support. There was one mention of praying

270 during an account of the flood event, but that was it. This omission may be owing to the wording of the question: What have been your supports? It may also reflect the experiences and religious- orientations of the youth who were involved in the study. Of note, no participants came forward from the local Catholic high school to take part in the research.

It is possible that religious faith did not play a major role in the post-disaster experience of the youth who were interviewed. Or maybe religion is such a tacit part of their lives that the support from their faith was taken-as-shared without the need of a mention. Whatever the reason, additional research would be needed to determine the degree to which religious institutions support youth, post-disaster and in their transitions from life-in-schools to life-out-of-schools.

Little Mention of High School

The research questions were focused on the flood experience, post-flood experience, and life after high school. Some stories included mention of specific teachers, and many participants talked about the diploma exams post-flood.

To really hone in on the students’ perceived preparedness for the transition from life-out- of-schools to their lived experience, it would be fruitful to run more of a longitudinal study where participants could be interviewed in June of their graduating year regarding their: plans for the future, goals, assumptions, and predictions; then, have follow-up interviews three to five years later to see how the transition played out. Additionally, the questions could better target the stories related to their transition from life-in-schools to life-out-of-schools.

The Cutting Room Floor

As is evidenced by the lengthy “Stories and Analysis” section, I included most of the stories that were shared in the interviews. Details of stories were sometimes omitted to preserve the participants’ anonymity, such as the specific number of Julie’s children, degree and program

271 names, occupations and places of employment, and the names of the places the young adults had been in their travels.

There were an additional twelve single-spaced pages of story fragments that have not been included in this work, plus the pleasantries that were exchanged at the beginning and end of each interview. Looking over the occluded pieces, I noted that much of what is left out had identifying details that would be difficult to anonymize. Some of the comments were about specific teachers and experiences in the local high school, such as “Highwood was, is very … accepting of pretty much everyone” (Kelsey’s Interview, 2019). The choices I have made reflect my care for the participants; caring for their stories is responsibility that I have not taken lightly.

272

Chapter 5: Concluding Remarks and Opening Possibilities

Heading into the Unknown

Bricolage is not for the faint of heart. It is like setting out on an unfamiliar landscape without a map or GPS.

I packed my bag with what I thought I needed and probably packed too much— the opening chapters are over-stuffed and weighing me down.

I have armed myself with survival gear, and studied the terrain of literature, and the methodologies in the stars.

My worldview is my compass, guiding my decisions along the way.

I encountered obstacles that tested my resolve.

273

I constantly questioned my navigation skills and judgement, which was important— it meant that I hadn’t given up and I was actively engaged in the process.

I repeatedly asked myself: Am I still going in the right direction?

Did I take a wrong turn?

Was I ever going in the right direction?

Will I ever get to where I need to be?

But like all great adventures, the journey was both the fun and the learning.

And the destination, was worth the while.

Unfortunately/fortunately, I only get one “first” great adventure.

274

The skills and knowledge I gained will carry forward with me.

But, there is a lot of world to explore and no two adventures, will ever be the same. Each will push me in new directions, to new limits, and to new places of learning, but the terrain will never again be as daunting, or gratifying as this first time. Bricoleur’s Notes

In the “Concluding Remarks and Opening Possibilities,” I begin by making connections to the global pandemic in “From Floods to COVID-19.” Then, I offer a “Research Summary” describing the research project and overall journey, followed by a concise synopsis of the

“Research Findings.” Informed by the findings, I offer: “Implications for Disaster Response,”

“Implications for Educators,” “Implications for Graduation Ceremonies,” and “Implications for

Future Research.” Moving from product to process, I revisit the methodological underpinnings of this project in a “Reflection on the Process: Bricolage, Holism, and Storywork.” I share my

275

“Holistic Conceptual Framework” and “Potential Applications for the Holistic Conceptual

Framework,” before ending with a “Closing Thought.”

From Floods to COVID-19

It is not lost on me that I am completing my work on this dissertation while in the seclusion rendered by another disaster—the flood forced us out, while COVID-19 keeps us in.

Like the flood, the pandemic will change peoples’ lives in unforeseen and irreparable ways.

Some of the influences may be for the better, as people take stock of what matters most to them and reprioritize their post-pandemic lives based on their needs, values, and commitments. Other legacies of the experience will be born from the challenges, hardships, and permanent alterations survivors have undergone. There are things that disasters teach us—both good and bad—but it is what we do with that new knowledge that will shape our individual and collective existence for generations to come. In the case of COVID-19, everyone around the world now shares in the experience of being victims of disaster.

During the pandemic, I have heard echoes of my research as youth worry about their grades and missed final exams. They are wondering if they can still get into the schools and programs they had been planning to pursue. There is also uncertainty around how post-secondary education will look in the fall—Will the courses and programs be offered as widely? Will they be online? Will the college and university experiences differ from previous years? Will aspects of post-graduation life be lost? The youth are worried about not having (summer) jobs to save for school or the next stages of their lives. There are so many parallels, just on a grander scale.

Educators and administrators are trying to figure out what to do about missed graduation ceremonies. One sharp contrast is in the youths’ ability to physically be with their friends. It will be interesting to learn how this difference affects the youth in their post-disaster lives.

276

I believe that aspects of my disaster-based study and my research story—specifically with regard to the experiences of youth, their disaster response suggestions, and their graduation ceremonies; my focus on well-being, creation of a holistic conceptual framework, use of storywork methodology, employ of bricolage in post-disaster research, and more—hold bearing on our current situation and may be useful to educators, disaster-response personnel, mental health professionals, parents of youth, and other researchers who are beginning their studies, during and post pandemic.

Research Summary

In response to my experience of the 2013 High River Flood, I entered into this research concerned for the well-being of the students who graduated the year of the disaster. I saw the supports that were in place in the town and in the schools and wondered how the recent graduates were faring in their lives post-disaster. I wondered what stories they had to tell and what we might learn from them.

Utilizing bricolage (Denzin & Lincoln, 2000, 2018; Kincheloe, 2001, 2005b; Kincheloe,

McLaren, & Steinberg, 2011; Rogers, 2012; Steinberg, 2006; Steinberg, Berry, & Kincheloe,

2020) as a responsive and adaptive approach to the research, I set out to gather the stories of the youth through ethnographic interviews. Through word of mouth and posters displayed in public spaces around High River, I was contacted by ten potential research participants. One of the people who had reached out did not meet the criteria for the study, as they lived in the city of

Calgary and attended a high school in Calgary during the flood event. I conducted interviews— in-person or over-the-phone—with the nine young adults who lived in and around High River and graduated from high school in 2013.

277

I applied Jo-ann Archibald’s (2008a, 2008b) Indigenous storywork principles to all stages of the story gathering, analysis, and re-presentation. I remain conscious of my responsibilities to the participants and their stories, in all respects. During the interviews, I asked guiding questions to find out about their flood experiences, post-disaster recovery, and lives since high school. I maintained an ethic of care (Gilligan, 1982; Noddings, 1984, 2012) in all communications with the youth, and I followed up with the participants whom I had lingering concerns about after their interviews had ended. The youth assured me that they would seek supports if they needed them. Even while putting my ethical and relational responsibilities to the participants first in the work, I remained aware that I could not be the one to determine if a space was “safe” for them.

Nor could I ensure that the process of revisiting the flood-related experiences did not unearth past traumas. I could only be attentive and respond to the best of my ability.

As the youth spoke, I engaged in deep listening and critical reflection. At times, I offered pieces of my own stories to build relationships with the participants over points of connection. I recorded the interviews for transcription and sent the transcripts to the participants for member checking. In preparation for the data analysis stage of the work, I thought about the storywork principles and how I could honour the stories in my analysis. Holism was the storywork principle that stood out as a means of reading the stories in responsible and respectful ways. I turned to the four directions teachings I had learned about under the guidance of Maskekosihk Enoch Cree

Elder, Bob Cardinal. Using the holistic framework (Elder Bob Cardinal, personal communication, September, 2016 to July, 2017; Latremouille, 2016; University of Alberta,

2016) as a guide, I considered the emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical well-being of the youth, as evidenced in their stories.

278

Informed by Elder Cardinal’s critical incident assignment from the Four Directions

Teachings: A Holistic Inquiry in Support of Life and Living course (University of Alberta, 2016),

I felt empowered as a bricoleur to adapt the three steps from the process to better suit my needs

(see “Holistic Guidance and Critical Analysis” in Chapter 3). Having grouped the stories by themes, I re-presented them in storied métissage, entered into generative dialogue with the four directions teachers—Bear the Historian, Grandmother Beaver the Worker, Thunder Being the

Messenger, Buffalo the Gifted, and Eagle—and engaged in meaning-making that reflected the stories and discussions with regard to the holistic well-being of the youth.

Throughout the process, I created and re-created a holistic conceptual framework. My vision of the framework evolved in response to the stories told by the youth and the dynamic research process. As I conclude the formal aspects of this project, I am moving from researcher- as-listener to researcher-as-storyteller. I have a responsibility to carry the stories of the youth and subsequent research findings forward to new audiences. My role as an educator encompasses my responsibilities as a caretaker of the stories shared by the youth. As a critical, Indigenous scholar,

I seek to raise consciousness and engage in meaningful action with respect to the lives of the youth involved in the study, and other youth living through disasters and/or transitioning from life-in-schools to life-out-of-schools.

By sharing my process of developing the holistic conceptual framework, and the product of the framework itself, I hope to contribute to the ongoing dialogues around holistic frameworks and storywork methodologies within the field of Indigenous research.

Research Findings

The youth who came forward to participate in this study were very generous with their stories. They were candid in their descriptions of the flood events, as they remembered them just

279 over six years after the event. During the flood, the youth jumped into action: filling sand bags, travelling to the houses of family and friends, offering support, staying on at work, looking after siblings and pets, and more. The youth prioritized their responsibilities to family and friends, during and post-disaster.

The young adults demonstrated empathy and compassion for others going through disaster, including: their parents, family friends, caregivers, peers, and victims of other disasters.

The youths’ responses to disaster were often action-oriented. They provided help with the cleanup, in paid and unpaid capacities. They also took steps to not over-burden their parents and caregivers with their own worries, grief, and sadness.

Additionally, two of the youth described the losses they experienced or witnessed in relation to important places and possessions. As specific places and precious belongings were destroyed or lost forever, the participants expressed deep sadness over the waning of the touchstone memories (Cruikshank, 1990; Markides, 2020b; Strong-Wilson, 2008) that were associated with those locations and keepsakes.

The youth showed determination and perseverance in pursuits of their goals. All of the participants had taken steps to pursue education or career-training of some kind. Some were now working in their chosen professions; others were continuing on with schooling towards their desired goals; and, still others were figuring life out, through travel and new experiences. While their paths were varied, all expressed pride in their accomplishments and/or journeys to get there.

Nearly all of the participants offered advice for other youth going through disasters, but none would have taken their own advice. Despite the wisdom they shared, all of the youth recognized that they would not have been open to these recommendations (even coming from themselves) at earlier stages in their lives.

280

Directly and indirectly, the young adults offered many great suggestions for post-disaster response, such as ideas around group counselling, places and occasions for gathering together with their peers, monetary and physical supplies that would directly support youth, and the potentiality of youth as an untapped labour force in the wake of a disaster.

While this study did not set out to discuss graduation, in particular, the graduation day events became a notable focus of many of the participants’ remembrances and stories from that time. The graduation experience was regarded with a lot of charged emotions, including: disappointment, loss, sadness, regret, anger, bitterness, humour, and complacence. None of the participants came across as ungrateful. They all expressed sincere thanks for efforts people had made to make the event special and memorable despite the circumstances. It was through their stories that the disappointments and feelings of remorse emerged. Despite all the time that had passed, many of the participants were still grieving the loss of the graduation event.

Using a holistic framework to consider the well-being of youth post-disaster and in their lives after high school, it becomes apparent that youth are intimately bound by their relationships. They have a great sense of responsibility to others and are also sustained by the people who provide them with safety and strength in their lives. These relationships are not static. However, relationships remain essential to overall well-being despite their fluidity and mutability.

In regard to well-being, the youth demonstrated resilience, selflessness, care for others, self-knowledge, gratitude, generosity, autonomy, empathy, self-care, persistence, perseverance, compassion, kindness, love, and commitment, with respect to others and themselves. Their goals, pursuits, challenges, and accomplishments reflect their innate striving towards elements of

281 holistic well-being and balance in their lives. They have a lot they can teach us, if we are willing to invite their stories and to listen to them.

For many of the youth who participated in the study, the act of sharing their stores was freeing. The dialogue created a space for reflection on the aspects of their experiences that they may not have fully processed or realized were still troubling them at the time of the interviews.

The emancipatory potential of the research also extends to youth outside of the study. Youth living through other disasters may benefit from reading or hearing these stories. The stories themselves open up space for personal connections and reflections that can be generative, healing, and empowering.

Implications for Disaster Response

Untapped Workforce

Youth may be considered an untapped workforce in post-disaster recovery. The youth who had jobs working for the town after the flood expressed gratitude for having paid employment through the summer. These youth were able to save money for school, etc., while many of their peers could not. Many of the youth who were part of the clean-up and post-disaster recovery teams enjoyed having purposeful work. They noted that many adults whom they worked with were busy dealing with their own homes and personal losses—the youth filled a void that these circumstances created.

Multiple Modes of Support

In the wake of a disaster, supports for youth can take many forms. The participants spoke about the importance of being able to communicate and access information, especially during and immediately after the crisis. As evidenced in their stories, the youth may need support navigating bureaucratic systems such as: making insurance claims and accessing financial

282 assistance programs. They also indicated that the supplies and resources at emergency response distribution centres could better reflect the needs of youth.

Counsellors and psychologists may need to find creative ways to advertise, target, and reach youth. Support can be provided online or in social settings for families or peer groups. As demonstrated through this study, the youth value the opportunity to tell their stories.

Implications for Educators

Students at every stage of life may benefit from having holistic, four-directions, or well- being teachings. This research is by no means intended to serve as a guidebook, but the conceptual framework points to the importance of relationships to the youths’ resiliency.

Building on the suggestion of Kempf (2018), teaching about mental, physical, spiritual, and social/emotional well-being should be central to educational processes and practices. With a robust network of support and strong foundations in these four areas, the youth show greater aptitudes and abilities to pursue their goals after high school, to seek out meaningful work, and to contribute to society in ways that support community health and personal well-being. While the conceptual framework from this study is useful as a guide, Indigenous Elders and Knowledge

Keepers should be at the forefront of holistic education.

Implications for Graduation Ceremonies

Regardless of the circumstances leading up to the graduation, the ceremony needs to be about and for the graduating students, not a publicity event for anyone else.

When it is safe and sensible to do so, graduation should be held as closely to the originally planned event as possible. It will never be the same as the event that was scheduled and missed, but it would be ideal for the graduation to have as many of the same practices, elements, and traditions, as viable, especially since the graduates have been anticipating that

283 the celebrations will look and feel a certain way for years. Each difference between the real and the imagined amounts to a break in the graduates’ expectations for that day, which may lead them to regard the event as “mock grad.”

Whenever possible, use the same venues, organizational structures, schedules, and anything else, that will provide continuity with how the students have seen graduation ceremonies in their previous years of school, and will see them again in the years to come.

If graduation has been postponed due to a disaster or pandemic, the graduates will likely be very understanding and accommodating, having just been through the disaster themselves.

They will have an insider perspective on what is and is not possible in the aftermath. If major deviations are necessary, and if time permits, consider inviting the graduates into the dialogue for re-planning the event.

Implications for Future Research

Of the various challenges that youth described in this research, struggles to find meaningful employment—even with a degree or qualifications—was of greatest concern. I anticipate that further research in this area will be of benefit to schools, institutions, and youth, as they look to join the workforce.

Being held in webs of relations emerged as a central vision in this dissertation. The youth described the connections and activities associated with the people in their lives. Further attention could be given to this concept explicitly, to better understand how the webs of relations evolve over time or during times of transition.

It was interesting to note the tone and assuredness, with which the young adults all responded to the question of taking their own advice; it was as though they had unwavering

284 determination—not willing to take advice from anyone—that might serve protective and resiliency-building functions.

In the ethnographic interview, I asked the participants: “Would you change anything if you could?” A few of the responses reflected superstitious or fatalist views of life. There were also leanings to both a “God’s plan” and a “cosmic destiny.” No one described being cursed, as had emerged in Burton’s (2001) conversations with tornado victims. But, Bronwen’s response alluded to a film about the butterfly effect—where one small change can have a ripple effect on the events in one’s life. I find this to be another interesting avenue that could be explored further, as it relates to youths’ understanding and experience of agency in their lives.

It would be interesting to ask participants what drew them to participate in the study.

Further demographic information could also be invited and shared.

While the holistic teachings shared in this work reflected my own learning, I am eager to engage with Elders and Knowledge Keepers in connection to school communities. I hope to continue my learning around place-specific and community-specific ways of addressing well- being needs in education.

Reflection on the Process: Bricolage, Holism, and Storywork

Bricolage

I am an early career bricoleur. Choosing a bricolage approach to research formation allowed me to use the methods that felt right in the moments. It meant that I was continually questioning my choices and reflecting on the research process in ways that would not have been possible, or necessary, if I had ascribed to a single disciplinary approach (Kincheloe, 2001). In this way, the research process was reflexive, dynamic, and responsive. It allowed me to remain open to the many possibilities and teachings the stories afforded. Regardless of my

285 interpretations, other people will undoubtedly read the stories and come to their own conclusion about the youths’ experience of the flood and post-disaster life. The stories hold multiple meanings, and that is okay.

As I formed the storied métissage pieces, I was tempted to remove whole chunks of my ramblings and comments. By removing my banter from the conversations, I realized how sterile and isolated the participants’ stories appeared. Having my voice in the research demonstrates the trust and relationship building that is fundamental to storywork.

Holism

Initially I was hesitant to apply and embed a holistic framework into my conceptual framework, but I kept coming back to the idea again and again. I had been asking myself: How can I engage with the stories in meaningful ways? How will I honour the storywork principles while conducting an analysis of the data? And, how will my choices lift up the participants’ stories in ways that support learning and growth?

With one of the storywork principles being, holism, I knew that my framework should be centred around this important concept. Holism represents an intentional and conscientious way of being in the world and in research. Using a holistic framework signals that the values of well- being and living well in the world are central to the research—what better focus could this work have?

The process of creating storied métissage vignettes, engaging in generative dialogues with the four directions teachers, and meaning-making, was more involved and worthwhile than I could have anticipated. The discussions with the holistic teachers prompted insights that I might not have had on my own—I needed to think about the stories from the teachers’ perspectives and

286 to see the webs of relations that the youth claimed as their supports and those they supported in return. The holistic view made the strengths of the youth more evident.

Storywork

Through my reflexive practices as a bricoleur, I continuously revisited my commitments to Archibald’s storywork principles:

Respect – How does my approach to the research and the participants demonstrate respect?

At every stage in the research, I wanted to show respect for the participants and their stories. After a final round of member checking, I made the decision to change the participants’ names in every section of the analysis. The stories hold up regardless of what (pseudo)names are assigned to them. By changing names in every section, it is more difficult to read the pieces of just one participant, as they may provide clues to a person’s identity if read aggregately.

As previously stated, I chose to keep bits of my dialogue with participants in the storied métissage pieces. I hope that I demonstrated respect through the conversations I had with the young adults throughout the interviews, by building trust and showing care.

Responsibility – What are my responsibilities to the participants and their stories?

As stated numerous times throughout the project, I have a responsibility to honour the stories gifted to me by the young adults. As with any teaching, I have a responsibility to carry the stories forward with care and respect. I have tried to be thoughtful about how I would re-present the stories in ways that would be engaging for the audience, while creating safety and maintaining anonymity for the research participants who chose to remain anonymous.

Reverence – In what ways can I hold the young adults in reverence and honour the many gifts they have shared with me?

287

I have tried to treat the stories as sacred, respecting the voices of the participants and bringing the stories forward, largely untouched. When I speak about the stories, I refer to them as gifts. I have worked to interpret and learn from the stories, without judgement. The participants demonstrated great generosity in sharing these gifts with me. As such, I have dedicated this work to them.

Holism – How can I use a holistic approach to listening to and learning from the participants’ stories?

Holism became a central component of the conceptual framework that emerged from and through this work. I am grateful to have received some holistic teachings from Elder Bob

Cardinal (personal communication, September, 2016 to July, 2017), but I recognize that I am an infant in this learning. I had to look inward and trust that I was making the right decisions by the research participants, and my teachers, to embrace and engage holism as the guiding vision of this process. During the interviews and in subsequent readings, I have tried to listen holistically, with my mind, body, and spirit. I have kept an open mind and an open heart—allowing myself to be moved by the stories and reflecting on my emotional responses.

Inter-relatedness – How can I recognize that each story is part of a complex and inter-related whole—creating a larger disaster related picture that speaks back to and beyond humanity?

Through storied métissage, I attempted to create space for the diverse, yet inter-related, stories to speak to each other. Each grouping forms a complex narrative around a prevailing theme or idea. Together, they tell of the varied ways youth perceived and/or experienced challenges and supports with regard to: the flood, post-disaster recovery, and life after graduation.

288

Synergy – How might I capture and reflect back the synergistic moments created between the storytellers/participants, their stories/experiences shared, and the listener/researcher/me, especially as I shift to become the storyteller myself and share the stories with a broader audience?

For me, the synergistic qualities of storywork are in the moments that cannot be readily seen on the page. Synergy exists in the relational spaces—between participants and researchers, storytellers and listeners, stories and readers, and amongst the stories themselves. Synergy comes from the connections that are made at points of affinity, or other relational exchanges, such as the sharing of emotional responses, insights, gratitude, awe, and hope.

Reciprocity – Most importantly, how can I reciprocate the generosity of spirit shared by the participants and find a way to give back to them in some meaningful and tangible way, beyond the giving of a monetary gift card?

From the outset of this project, I anticipated that finding a way to give back to the research participants would be the most difficult aspect of enacting the storywork methodology.

As such, I have held the principle of reciprocity in my mind through all of the interviews.

Thinking about my commitment to reciprocity shaped how I listened. When the participants’ stories sounded most fraught with emotions, it signaled, to me, a place where further work could be done on their behalves.

Beginning with graduation, I heard a lot of unresolved feelings of sadness, disappointment, anger, and loss as the participants described their experiences of the events. I asked myself: how could reparations be made for their graduation experience? My thoughts, pre-COVID-19, were that the town might commit to some sort of event in honour of the “flood grads” during the ten year anniversary of the flood. I hope to approach the town with my ideas

289 and to have the 2013 graduates (extending beyond the research participants) involved in designing an event that could be about them and for them. This might look like a ten year reunion, with a “redo” of the ceremony that should have been held in George Lane Park and a party afterward at the memorial centre or Rec Plex. It would be up the grads to decide what, if anything they wanted done, but I would work to propose and facilitate the exchanges to get the ball rolling for them.

Another area that stood out as emotionally charged, was when the participants spoke about the post-flood response. The feelings of gratitude, pride, and passion were still very present. One idea that came to me while listening, was to have the town of High River create

“unsung heroes of the flood” awards. These would not have to be flashy awards, but a simple form of recognition that anyone could nominate a person or organization to receive. There would be no limit to the number of awards granted and it could be the community’s way of celebrating the kindnesses that were felt all those years ago, but are still remembered with love and gratitude today. Again, I thought that this sort of recognition could be tied to the ten year anniversary of the flood, which would give the town and the community time to put the plans into action.

Beyond these two ideas, I am aware that my work may not benefit the participants in ways I can know. As such, I am optimistic that the sharing of their stories created some space for reflection, remembrance, and healing, if need be.

I stand to benefit greatly from their contributions, hopefully earning my doctorate based on the dissertation I have written about this research. The gift cards I provided were a small gesture of thanks, but I hope that reciprocity is truly felt as I carry the two suggestions forward and share their stories in future publications and presentations.

290

Holistic Conceptual Framework

The following figure is my artistic interpretation of the holistic conceptual framework, as

I have come to see it. At centre is the well-being of the individual and community, simultaneously. The web of relations includes: friends, family, partners, and places. Well-being is at the centre of the holistic framework—it is surrounded and guided by the four directions teachers—Bear the Historian, Grandmother Beaver the Worker, Thunder Being the Messenger,

Buffalo the Gifted, and Eagle (Elder Bob Cardinal, personal communication, September, 2016 to

July, 2017; Latremouille, 2014; University of Alberta, 2016), as they have been interpreted and described within this research.

The storywork principles (Archibald, 2008a, 2008b) surround the holistic framework, interacting with: all external forces that enter into consideration in the research process, and all internal findings that emanate out from this research, including how the participants’ stories are shared. The principles fully encompass the framework, compatible with each of the holistic teachers regardless of where they appear on the perimeter.

External forces and factors, such as the flood and life transitions, are represented by the vibrant orange colour outside the holistic framework. These experiences impact the lives and overall well-being of the youth and their webs of relations.

The pathways radiating outward from the centre represent the emergence of stories, as they have been told by the young adults and interpreted through the storied métissage, generative dialogue, and meaning-making processes.

Eagle is the outermost relation in the holistic conceptual framework, providing the holistic view from outside of, but in connection to, the holistic framework—Eagle sees all, and provides a guiding vision for life and living well.

291

Figure 2. Holistic Conceptual Framework

Potential Applications for the Holistic Conceptual Framework

While the youth are at the centre of this research, I realize that this holistic conceptual framework could embrace others at its heart: COVID-19 pandemic victims, research participants

292 in other studies, our more-than-human relatives, myself, Mother Earth, water, and more. It may be a useful framework for different research projects that consider well-being at their core.

Although the image is presented as a cohesive whole, the bricoleur in me would be remiss not to note the humble beginnings of this work. The holistic conceptual framework was cobbled together out of the available resources—methodologies, literatures, knowledge, and experiences—that I had on hand, and using the tools—methods—at my disposal. Its creation was process oriented and responsive to the emergent needs of the project. It comes at the end of this work, because it did not exist at the beginning; and, it wasn’t wholly formed along the way. It existed in my mind—in a constant state of flux, alterity, and renewal. If picked up again, this holistic conceptual framework should be taken-as existing in a dynamic state once more, responsive to the emergent needs and circumstances of the next project, or the next bricoleur.

293

Closing Thought

As Four Arrows’ (2008; personal communication, December 9, 2019) dissertation committee chair wrote: This dissertation may be “brilliant or bullshit,” only time will tell.

Beginning and Ending with the Voices of Youth

One last thing, I’m just … I think it’s interesting that you’re … interviewing my grad class, but I … like we got to leave … like we didn’t have to see it day and day again. Like I’m wondering about those grade 11s that then went into grade 12, right – because they had to see the city or the town be rebuilt. Like I don’t know … I don’t want to take away from anyone’s flood experience, but I feel like … I don’t know if our grad class … like it obviously was really sucky, but I don’t feel like we’re special … That might just be my experience though. … I don’t feel … I didn’t lose my home, I don’t feel robbed of anything, not really, except for like that summer… —Joni’s Interview, 2019 (emphasis added)

294

References

Abram, D. (1996). The spell of the sensuous: Perception and language in a more-than- human

world. New York: Pantheon Books.

Absolon, K. (2010). Indigenous wholistic theory: A knowledge set for practice. First Peoples

Child & Family Review, 5(2), 74-87.

Absolon, K. (2016). Wholistic and ethical: Social inclusion with Indigenous Peoples. Social

Inclusion, 4(1), 44-56.

Absolon, K., & Willett, C. (2005). Putting ourselves forward: Location in Aboriginal research. In

L. Brown & S. Strega (Eds.), Research as resistance: Critical, Indigenous, and anti-

oppressive approaches (pp. 97-126). Toronto, ON: Canadian Scholar’s Press.

Ackerman, J., Druschke, C. G., McGreavy, B., & Sprain L. (2016). The skunkwork of ecological

engagement. Reflections on Sustainable Communities and Environmental

Communication 16(1), 75-95.

Adom, D., Hussein, E. K., & Agyem, J. A. (2018). Theoretical and conceptual framework:

Mandatory ingredients of a quality research. International Journal of Scientific Research

7(1), 438-441.

Aoki, T. T. (1983). Experiencing ethnicity as a Japanese Canadian teacher: Reflections on a

personal curriculum. Curriculum Inquiry, 13(3). 321-335.

Apple, M. W. (2013). Teachers and texts: A political economy of class and gender relations in

education. In Flinders, D. J., & Thornton, S. J. (Eds.). The Curriculum Studies Reader

(4th ed.). New York, NY: Routledge (Original work published 1986).

Archibald, J. A. (2008a). Indigenous storywork: Educating the heart, body, mind, and spirit.

Vancouver, BC: UBC Press.

295

Archibald, J. A. (2008b). An Indigenous storywork methodology. Handbook of the arts in

qualitative research: Perspectives, methodologies, examples, and issues, 371-393.

Atleo, Umeek E. R. (2011). Principles of Tsawalk: An Indigenous approach to global crisis.

Vancouver, BC: UBC Press.

Bakhtin, M. M. (1981). Dialogic imagination: Four essays. Edited by M. Holquist. Translated by

C. Emerson & M. Holquist. Austin, TX: University of Texas Press.

Bartlett, C., Marshall, M., & Marshall, A. (2012). Two-eyed seeing and other lessons learned

within a co-learning journey of bringing together Indigenous and mainstream knowledges

and ways of knowing. Journal of Environmental Studies and Sciences, 2(4), 331-340.

Battiste, M. (2000). Reclaiming Indigenous voice and vision. Vancouver, BC: UBC Press.

Baudrillard, J. (1988). Simulacra and simulations. In M. Poster (Ed.), Jean Baudrillard, selected

writings, (pp. 166–185). Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.

Bell, N. (2014, June 9). Teaching by the medicine wheel. Education Canada Magazine.

Retrieved from https://www.edcan.ca/articles/teaching-by-the-medicine-wheel/

Blaeser, K. M. (1999). Writing voices speaking: Native authors and an oral aesthetic. In L. J.

Murray & K. Rice (Eds.), Talking on the page: Editing Aboriginal oral texts (pp. 53-68).

Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press.

Blaze, J. T., & Shwalb, D. W. (2009). Resource loss and relocation: A follow-up study of

adolescents two years after Hurricane Katrina. Psychological Trauma: Theory, Research,

Practice, and Policy 1(4), 312-322.

Blood, N., Chambers, C., Donald, D., Hasebe-Ludt, E., & Big Head, R. (2012).

Aoksisowaato’op: Place and story as organic curriculum. In N. Ng-A-Fook & J. Rottman

296

(Eds.), Reconsidering Canadian Curriculum Studies (pp. 47–82). New York, NY:

Palgrave Macmillan.

Brendtro, L., Brokenleg, M., & Van Bockern, S. (1990). Reclaiming youth at risk: Our hope for

the future. Bloomington, IN: Solution Tree.

Brown, M. R. G., Agyapong, V., Greenshaw, A. J., Cribben, I., Brett-MacLean, P., Drolet, J.,

McDonald-Harker, C., Omeje, J., Mankowsi, M., Noble, S., Kitching, D., & Silverstone,

P. H. (2019). After the Fort McMurray wildfire there are significant increases in mental

health symptoms in grade 7–12 students compared to controls. BMC Psychiatry, 19(18),

1-11. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12888-018-2007-1

Britzman, D. P. (1998). Lost subjects, contested objects: Toward a psychoanalytic inquiry of

learning. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.

Britzman, D. P. (2000). If the story cannot end: Deferred action, ambivalence, and difficult

knowledge. In R. I. Simon, S. Rosenberg, & C. Eppert (Eds.), Between hope and despair:

Pedagogy and the remembrance of historical trauma (pp. 27-57). Lanham, MD: Rowman

& Littlefield.

Britzman, D. P. (2013). Between psychoanalysis and pedagogy: Scenes of rapprochement and

alienation. Curriculum Inquiry, 43(1), 95-117. http://dx.doi.org/10.1111/curi.12007

Bryant, R. A., & Litz, B. (2009). Mental health treatments in the wake of disaster. In Y. Neria, S.

Galea, & F. H. Norris, (Eds.), Mental health and disasters (pp. 321-35). New York:

Cambridge University Press.

Burton, S. (Author). (2001, June 8). Tornado prom [Radio program]. In I. Glass (Executive

Producer), This American Life. Chicago, IL: WBEZ.

Cajete, G. (1994). Look to the mountain: An ecology of Indigenous education. Durango, CO:

297

Kivaki Press.

Calliou, S. (1995). Peacekeeping actions at home: A medicine wheel model for a peacekeeping

pedagogy. In M. Battiste & J. Barman (Eds.), First Nations education in Canada: The

circle unfolds, 47-72. Vancouver, BC: UBC Press.

Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC). (2014). Flood buyouts for 11 Calgary homes cost

province $33M, documents show. CBC News Calgary. Retrieved from

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/ calgary/flood-buyouts-for-11-calgary-homes-cost-

province-33m-documents-show-1.2790028

Canadian Education Association (n.d.). How can we best support student mental well-being? The

Facts on Education. Retrieved from https://www.edcan.ca/wp-

content/uploads/cea_factsoned_mentalhealth.pdf

Carriere, J., & Richardson, C., (2013). Relationship is everything: Holistic approaches to

Aboriginal child and youth mental health. First Peoples Child & Family Review, 7(2), 8-

26.

Chambers, C., Hasebe-Ludt, E., & Donald, D. (2002). Creating a curriculum of métissage.

Educational Insights, 7(2), [Online] Available at:

http://ccfi.educ.ubc.ca/publication/insights/v07n02/toc.html

Chambers, C., Hasebe-Ludt, E., Donald, D., Hurren, W., Leggo, C. & Oberg, A. (2008).

Métissage. In A. Cole & J. Knowles (Eds.), Handbook of the arts in qualitative research:

Perspectives, methodologies, examples, and issues, pp. 141-153. Thousand Oaks, CA:

Sage.

298

Cohen, J. (2006). Social, emotional, ethical, and academic education: Creating a climate for

learning, participation in democracy, and well-being. Harvard Education Review, 76(2),

201-237.

Cole, P. (2002). aboriginalizing methodology: considering the canoe. International Journal of

Qualitative Studies in Education, 15(4), 447-459.

Cruikshank, J. (1990). Life lived like a story: Life stories of three Yukon Native elders. Lincoln,

NE: University of Nebraska Press.

Cruikshank, J. (1998). The social life of stories. Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press.

Davidson, J. (2013). Is extreme weather the new normal? CBC News. Retrieved from

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/is-extreme-weather-the-new-normal-1.1321493

Davis, B., & Simmt, E. (2003). Understanding learning systems: Mathematics teaching and

complexity science. Journal for Research in Mathematics Education, 34(2), 137-167.

Davis, B., Sumara, D., & Luce-Kapler, R. (2008). Engaging minds: Changing teaching in

complex times. New York: Routledge.

Denzin, N. K., & Lincoln, Y. S. (2000). Introduction: The discipline and practice of qualitative

research. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), Handbook of qualitative research (2nd

ed., pp. 1-28). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

Denzin, N. K., & Lincoln, Y. S. (2003). Introduction: The discipline and practice of qualitative

research. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), Strategies of qualitative inquiry (2nd

ed., pp. 1-45). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

Denzin, N. K., & Lincoln, Y. S. (2018). Introduction: The discipline and practice of qualitative

research. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.), The Sage handbook of qualitative

research (5th ed.) (pp. 1-26). Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE.

299

DePape, B. (2012). Power of youth: Youth and community-led activism in Canada. Our Schools

/ Our Selves, 21(3). 15-21.

Donald, D. (2009). Forts, curriculum, and Indigenous Métissage: Imagining decolonization of

Aboriginal-Canadian relations in educational contexts. First Nations Perspectives, 2 (1),

1-24.

Donald, D. (2011)). Indigenous Métissage: A decolonizing research sensibility. International

Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education, 25(5), 533-55.

https://doi.org/10.1080/09518398.2011.554449

Donald, D. (2012). Forts, curriculum, and ethical relationality. In N. Ng-A-Fook, & J. Rottmann

(Eds.) Reconsidering Canadian Curriculum Studies: Provoking Historical, Present, and

Future Perspectives (pp. 39–46). New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan.

Drolet, J., McDonald-Harker, C., Iliscupidez, A., & Fulton, A. (2018). Arts-informed research

with children and youth in a post-flood community. The International Journal of Social,

Political and Community Agendas in the Arts, 13(3), 39-50.

Eisner, E. W. (1997). The promise and perils of alternative forms of data representation.

Educational researcher, 26(6), 4-10.

Ermine, W. (1995). Aboriginal epistemology. In M. Battiste and J. Barman (Eds.). The circle

unfolds: First Nations education in Canada (pp. 101-112). Vancouver, BC: UBC Press.

Eulette, L. (2014, April 10). What is child and youth mental health? EdCan Network. Retrieved

from https://www.edcan.ca/articles/what-is-child-and-youth-mental-health/

Evans, P. (2016, May 5). Fort McMurray fire could cost insurers $9B, BMO predicts. CBC

News. Retrieved from http://www.cbc.ca/news/business/fort-mcmurray-insurance-cost-

1.3568113

300

Experiential learning. (2020). Retrieved January 26, 2020 from: https://carleton.ca/edc/

teachingresources/?p=380

Ferreria, R., Buttell, F., & Ferreria, S. (2015). Ethical considerations for conducting disaster

research with vulnerable populations. Journal of Social Work Values and Ethics 12(1),

29–40.

Four Arrows, (aka Jacobs, D.T.) (2008). The authentic dissertation: Alternative ways of knowing,

research and representation. London: Routledge.

Four Arrows, (aka Jacobs, D.T.) (2020, April 6). Suspending environmental regulations proves

the insanity of our dominant worldview and the logic that supports it. OpEdNews.

Retrieved from https://www.opednews.com/articles/Suspending-Environmental-R-by-

Four-Arrows-Corona-Virus-Coronavirus-Covid-19_Environmental-Degradation_

Environmental-Destruction-War_Fed-Regulatory-Agency-EPA-200406-319.html

Freire, P. (1993). Pedagogy of the oppressed. Translated by M. B. Ramos. London, ENG:

Penguin Books. (Original work published 1970)

Garrison, M. E. B. & Sasser, D. D. (2009). Families and disasters: Making meaning out of

adversity. In K. E. Cherry (Ed.), Lifespan perspectives on natural disasters: Coping with

Katrina, Rita, and other storms. New York, NY: Springer.

Gilligan, C. (1982). In a different voice. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Giovannetti, J. (2019, September 1). More than one-third of high-school students in Fort

McMurray show signs of PTSD, study finds. Globe and Mail. pp. 1-3. Retrieved from

https://www.theglobeandmail.com/canada/alberta/article-more-than-one-third-of-high-

school-students-in-fort-mcmurray-show/

Giroux, H. A. (2006). The politics of disposability. Dissident Voice. Retrieved from

301

http://www.dissidentvoice.org/Sept06/Giroux01.htm

Goldmann, E., & Galea, S. (2014). Mental health consequences of disasters. Annual Review of

Public Health, 35(1), 169-183. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev-publhealth-032013-

182435

Graveline, F. J. (1998). Circle works: Transforming eurocentric consciousness. Halifax, NS:

Fernwood.

Graveline, F. J. (2000). Circle as methodology: Enacting an Aboriginal paradigm. International

Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education, 13(4), 361-370.

https://doi.org/10.1080/095183900413304

Hart, M. A. (2002). Seeking mino-pimatisiwin. Halifax, NS: Fernwood Publishing.

Hasebe-Ludt, E., Chambers, C. M., & Leggo, C. (2009). Life writing and literary métissage as

an ethos for our times. New York, NY: Peter Lang.

Hill, G. (2014). A holistic aboriginal framework for individual healing. In T. O'Connor, K. Lund,

& P. Berendsen (Eds.), Psychotherapy: Cure of the Soul, 59-69. Waterloo, ON: Waterloo

Lutheran Seminary. hooks, b. (1994). Teaching to transgress: Education as the practice of freedom. New York, NY:

Routledge. hooks, b. (1996). Bone black: Memories of girlhood. New York, NY: Holt. hooks, b. (2003). Teaching community: A pedagogy of hope. New York, NY: Routledge. hooks, b. (2010). Teaching critical thinking: Practical wisdom. New York, NY: Routledge.

Innes, R. (2009). “Wait a second: Who are you anyways?” The insider/outsider debate and

American Indian Studies. The American Indian Quarterly, 33(4), 440-461.

302

Iwama, M., Marshall, M., Marshall, A., & Bartlett, C. (2009). Two-eyed seeing and the language

of healing in community-based research. Canadian Journal of Native Education, 32(2),

3-23, 117.

Jones, R. T., Dugan Burns, K., Immel, C. S., Moore, R. M., Schwartz-Goel, K., & Culpepper, B.

(2009). The impact of Hurricane Katrina on Children and Adolescents: Conceptual and

methodological implications for assessment and intervention. In K. E. Cherry (Ed.),

Lifespan perspectives on natural disasters: Coping with Katrina, Rita, and other storms.

New York, NY: Springer.

Kar, N. (2009). Psychological impact of disasters on children: review of assessment and

interventions. World J Pediatr, 5(1), 5-11.

Kelly, D. M. (2006). Frame work: Helping youth counter their misrepresentations in media.

Canadian Journal of Education 29(1). 27-48.

Kempf, A. (2018). The challenges of measuring wellbeing in schools: A review prepared for the

Ontario Teachers’ Federation. Ontario Teachers’ Federation. Retrieved from

https://www.otffeo.on.ca/en/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2018/02/The-challenges-of-

measuring-wellbeing-in-schools-Winter-2017-web.pdf

Kimmerer, R. W. (2013). Braiding sweetgrass: Indigenous wisdom, scientific knowledge, and

the teachings of plants. Minneapolis, MN: Milkweed Editions.

Kincheloe, J. L. (2001). Describing the bricolage: Conceptualizing a new rigour in qualitative

research. Qualitative Inquiry, 7(6), 679–692.

Kincheloe, J. L. (2005a). Autobiography and critical ontology: Being a teacher, developing a

reflective persona. In W.-M. Roth (Ed.), Auto/Biography and Auto/Ethnography: Praxis

of Research Method, (pp. 155–174). Rotterdam, NL: Sense.

303

Kincheloe, J. L. (2005b). On to the next level: Continuing the conceptualization of the bricolage.

Qualitative Inquiry, 11(3), 323-350.

Kincheloe, J. L., McLaren, P., & Steinberg, S. R., (2011). Critical pedagogy and qualitative

research: Moving to the bricolage. In N. Denzin & Y. Lincoln, The Sage handbook of

qualitative research (4th ed., pp. 163-177). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

Kincheloe, J. L., McLaren, P., Steinberg, S. R., & Monzó, L. D. (2018). Critical pedagogy and

qualitative research: Advancing the bricolage. In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds.),

The Sage handbook of qualitative research (5th ed.) (pp. 235-60). Thousand Oaks, CA:

SAGE.

King, S. (2010). On writing: Memoir of the craft. New York, NY: Scribner. (Original work

published 2000).

King, T. (1990). Godzilla vs. post-colonial. World Literature Written in English, 30(2), 10-16.

https://doi.org/10.1080/17449859008589128

King, T. (2003). The truth about stories: A native narrative. Toronto, ON: House of Anansi.

King, T. (2012). The inconvenient Indian: A curious account of Native people in North America.

Toronto, ON: Anchor Canada, a division of Random House of Canada Limited.

King, T. (2014). The back of the turtle. Toronto, ON: HarperCollins.

Kirkness, V. J. & R. Barnhardt (2001). First Nations and higher education: The four R's -

respect, relevance, reciprocity, responsibility. In R. Hayoe & J. Pan (Eds.), Knowledge

across cultures: A contribution to dialogue among civilizations (pp. 1-18). Hong Kong,

SAR: The University of Hong Kong.

Kolb, D. A. (2014). Experiential learning: Experience as the source of learning and development

(2nd ed.). New Jersey: Pearson Education.

304

Kovach, M. (2009). Indigenous methodologies: Characteristics, conversations, and contexts.

Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press.

LaBoucane-Benson, P., Gibson, G., Benson, A., & Miller, G. (2012). Are we seeking

pimatisiwin or creating pomewin? Implications for water policy. The International

Indigenous Policy Journal, 3(3) . Retrieved from: http://ir.lib.uwo.ca/iipj/vol3/iss3/10

Lai, B. S., Osborne, M. C., Piscitello, J., Self-Brown, S., & Kelley, M. L. (2018). The

relationship between social support and posttraumatic stress symptoms among youth

exposed to a natural disaster. European Journal of Psychotraumatology, 9(1). 1-11.

https://doi.org/10.1080/20008198.2018.1450042

Latremouille, J. (2014). Raising a reader: Teachings from the four directions. Language and

Literacy, 18(1), 99-109.

Lévi-Strauss, C. (1966). The savage mind. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.

Lincoln, Y. (2001). An emerging new bricoleur: Promises and possibilities—a reaction to Joe

Kincheloe’s “Describing the bricolage.” Qualitative Inquiry, 7(6), 693-696.

Little Bear, L. (2000). Jagged worldviews colliding. In M. Battiste (Ed.), Reclaiming Indigenous

voice and vision (pp. 77-85). Vancouver, BC: UBC Press.

Little Bear, L. (2016, June 1). Big thinking and rethinking: Blackfoot metaphysics 'waiting in the

wings' [Big Thinking lecture]. Federation for the Humanities and Social Sciences Annual

Congress 2016, University of Calgary, Calgary, AB, Canada.

Louie, D. (2016). Preventative education for Indigenous girls vulnerable to the sex trade

[Unpublished doctoral dissertation]. University of Calgary, Calgary, AB.

http://hdl.handle.net/11023/3048

305

Madden, R. (2010). Being ethnographic: A guide to the theory and practice of ethnography.

Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

Madison, D. S. (2012). Critical ethnography: Method, ethics, and performance (2nd ed.).

Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

Markides, J. (2018a) Reconciling an ethical framework for living well in the world of research.

In J. Markides, & L. Forsythe (Eds.) Looking Back and Living Forward: Indigenous

Research Rising Up. Leiden, NL: Brill | Sense.

Markides, J. (2018b). Making peace with the Highwood River: One year in contemplative

photographs and flows. In P. Richardson, S. Walsh, & B. Bickel (Eds.), Special Issue:

Artizein: Arts & Teaching Journal 3(1), 61–73.

Markides, J. (2020a). Overcoming (in)difference: Emancipatory pedagogy and Indigenous

worldviews toward respectful relationships with the more-than-human world. In J. Kirylo

(Ed.) Reinventing Pedagogy of the Oppressed: Contemporary Critical Perspectives (pp.

157-168). New York, NY: Bloomsbury.

Markides, J. (2020b). Flooded: Between two worlds, holding the memory of what used to be

against the reality of what exists now. In S. Steinberg, & B. Down (Eds.) The SAGE

Handbook of Critical Pedagogies (pp.604-629). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

Marshall, A. (2017). Two-eyed seeing: Elder Albert Marshall’s guiding principle for inter-

cultural collaboration [PDF file]. Retrieved from http://www.integrativescience.ca/

uploads/files/Two-Eyed%20Seeing-AMarshall-Thinkers%20Lodge2017(1).pdf

McLaren, P. (2001). Bricklayers and bricoleurs: A Marxist addendum. Qualitative Inquiry, 7(6),

700-705.

306

Mertens, D. M. (2007). Transformative paradigm: Mixed methods and social justice. Journal of

Mixed Methods Research 1(3), 212-225.

Monfort, S. S., Stroup, H. E., & Waugh, C. E. (2015). The impact of anticipating positive events

on responses to stress. Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, 58(1), 11-22.

Montessori, M. (1976). From childhood to adolescence. 1948. Trans. A.M. Joosten. Rev. ed.

New York, NY: Schocken.

Noddings, N. (1984). Caring: a feminine approach to ethics and moral education. Berkeley, CA:

University of California Press.

Noddings, N. (2012). The language of care ethics. Knowledge Quest, 40(4), 52-56.

Norris F. H., Friedman, M. J., Watson P. J., Byrne, C., Diaz, E., Kaniasty, K. (2002a). 60,000

disaster victims speak: Part I. An empirical review of the empirical literature: 1981–2001.

Psychiatry, 65(3), 207–39.

Norris F. H., Friedman, M. J., Watson P. J. (2002b). 60,000 disaster victims speak: Part II.

Summary and implications of the disaster mental health research. Psychiatry, 65(3), 240–

60.

Norris, F. H., Galea, S., Friedman, M. J., & Watson, P. J. (2006). Methods for disaster mental

health research. New York, NY: Guilford Press.

Ontario Ministry of Education. (2016a). Ontario’s wellbeing strategy for education: Discussion

document. Toronto: Queen’s Printer for Ontario. Retrieved from

http://www.edu.gov.on.ca/eng/

about/wellbeingpdfs_nov2016e/wellbeing_engagement_e.pdf

Palmer, P. J. (2017). The courage to teach: Exploring the inner landscape of a teacher’s life (20th

anniversary ed.). San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.

307

Pinar, W. F. (2001). The researcher as bricoleur: The teacher as public intellectual. Qualitative

Inquiry, 7(6), 696-700.

Pitt, A., & Britzman, D. (2003). Speculations on qualities of difficult knowledge in teaching and

learning: An experiment in psychoanalytic research. Qualitative Studies in Education,

16(6), 755-776.

Pomeroy, J. W., Stewart, R. E., & Whitfield, P. H. (2016). The 2013 flood event in the South

Saskatchewan and Elk River basins: Causes, assessment and damages. Canadian Water

Resources Journal / Revue canadienne des ressources hydriques, 41(1-2), 105-117.

https://doi.org/10.1080/07011784.2015.1089190

Rodger, S., Hibbert, K., Leschied, A., Pickel, L., Stepien, M., Atkins, M. A., Koenig, A., Woods,

J. & Vandermeer, M. (2014). Mental health education in Canada: An analysis of teacher

education and provincial/territorial curricula. Ottawa, ON: Physical and Health

Education Canada.

Rogers, M. (2012). Contextualizing theories and practices of bricolage research. The Qualitative

Report, 17(48), 1-17.

Shepard, B., Kulig, J., & Pujadas Botey, A. (2017). Counselling children after wildfires: A

school-based approach. Canadian Journal of Counselling and Psychotherapy / Revue

canadienne de counseling et de psychothérapie, 51(1), 61-80.

Simon, R. I., Rosenberg, S., & Eppert, C. (2000). Between hope and despair: Pedagogy and the

remembrance of historical trauma. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield.

Simpson, L. B. (2008). Lighting the eighth fire: The liberation, resurgence, and protection of

Indigenous nations. Winnipeg, MB: Arbeiter Ring Publishing.

308

Simpson, L. B. (2011). Dancing on our turtle’s back: Stories of Nishnaabeg re-creation,

resurgence and a new emergence. Winnipeg, MB: Arbeiter Ring Publishing.

Simpson, L. B. (2013). Islands of decolonial love. Winnipeg, MB: Arbeiter Ring Publishing.

Simpson, L. B. (2017a). This accident of being lost. Toronto, ON: House of Anansi.

Simpson, L. B. (2017b). As we have always done: Indigenous freedom through radical

resistance. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press.

Slinger, H. (Writer) & Wood, M. (Writer & Director). (2015). Weather gone wild [Television

series episode]. In S. Ridout (Producer), Doc zone. Ottawa, ON: Canadian Broadcasting

Corporation.

Smith, L. Tuhiwai (2012). Decolonizing methodologies: Research and Indigenous peoples (2nd

ed.). New York, NY: Zed Books.

Solnit, R. (2009). A paradise built in hell: The extraordinary communities that arise in disasters.

New York, NY: Penguin Books.

Soft skills. (n.d.). In Wikipedia. Retrieved July 10, 2020, from

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soft_skills

Steinberg, S. R. (2006). Critical cultural studies research: Bricolage in action. In K. Tobin & J.

Kincheloe (Eds.), Doing educational research: A handbook, (pp. 117-137). Rotterdam,

NL: Sense.

Steinberg, S. R. (2018). Contextualizing the possible for transformative youth leadership. In J.

Kincheloe & S. R. Steinberg (Eds.), Classroom teaching: An introduction (2nd ed., pp.

191-198). New York, NY: Peter Lang.

Steinberg, S. R., Berry, K., & Kincheloe, J. (2020). Behind the bricolage: Critical qualitative

research for the 21st Century. New York, NY: DIO Press.

309

Strong-Wilson, T. (2008). Bringing memory forward: Storied remembrance in social justice

education with teachers (Vol. 23). New York, NY: Peter Lang.

Suzuki, D. (2015, February 23). Speaking truth gives youth great power. The Record. Retrieved

from: http://ezproxy.lib.ucalgary.ca/login?url=https://search-proquest-

com.ezproxy.lib.ucalgary.ca/docview/1657488351?accountid=9838

University of Alberta. (2016). EDSE 601: Four Directions Teachings: A Holistic Inquiry in

Support of Life and Living. Edmonton, AB: Elder Bob Cardinal, Dwayne Donald, &

Christine Stewart.

Van Boven, L., & Ashworth, L. (2007). Looking forward, looking back: Anticipation is more

evocative than retrospection. Journal of Experimental Psychology, 136(2), 289–300.

Wall, S. (2006). An autoethnography on learning about autoethnography. International Journal

of Qualitative Methods, 5(2), 1-12.

Weber-Pillwax, C. (2004). Indigenous researchers and Indigenous research methods: Cultural

influences or cultural determinants of research methods. Pimatisiwin: A Journal of

Aboriginal and Indigenous Community Health, 2(1), 77–90.

Wei, Y. & Kutcher, S. (2014, April 2). School mental health literacy. EdCan Network. Retrieved

from https://www.edcan.ca/articles/school-mental-health-literacy/

Wenger-Nabigon, A. (2010). The Cree medicine wheel as an organizing paradigm of theories of

human development. Native Social Work Journal, 7(1), 139-161.

Wiggins, G. P., & McTighe, J. (2005). Understanding by design (Expanded 2nd ed.).

Alexandria, VA: ASCD.

Wilson, S. (2008). Research is ceremony: Indigenous research methods. Halifax, NS: Fernwood.

310

Appendices

Appendix A: Participant Recruitment Poster

Flood Mud and other Residues of Disaster:

Stories told by the youth who graduated

the year of the 2013 High River Flood

RESEARCH PARTICIPANTS WANTED

Did you or someone you know graduate from high school in 2013, while living in High River, Alberta?

Consider sharing your stories of life after the disaster.

Participation involves a confidential one-on-one interview. All responses are completely confidential. Participant will receive a $25 gift card as a thank you for sharing their time and stories.

For further details, or if you have any questions, please contact: [name removed], Doctoral Candidate, Werklund School of Education Email: [email removed] Phone: [phone number removed]

The University of Calgary Conjoint Faculties Research Ethics Board has approved this research study. Ethics Certificate Number: [ethics number removed]

311

Appendix B: Participant Consent Form

Name of Researcher, Faculty, Department, Telephone & Email: Dr. [name removed], Werklund Research Professor of Critical Youth Studies, University of Calgary, [phone number removed], [email removed]

[name removed], MEd, Doctoral Candidate, Werklund School of Education, Curriculum and Learning, [phone number removed], [email removed]

Title of Project: Flood Mud and other Residues of Disaster: Stories told by the youth who graduated the year of the 2013 High River Flood

This consent form, a copy of which has been given to you, is only part of the process of informed consent. If you want more details about something mentioned here, or information not included here, you should feel free to ask. Please take the time to read this carefully and to understand any accompanying information.

The University of Calgary Conjoint Faculties Research Ethics Board has approved this research study. Participation is completely voluntary, and confidential. You are free to discontinue participation in this study as any time. To have your interview data withdrawn from the study, you must notify a member of the research team prior to September 1, 2020.

Purpose of the Study

This study aims to gather stories shared by the youth who graduated from high school in High River, Alberta in 2013. The information shared will be analyzed and described as part of [name removed] doctoral dissertation. Findings will contribute to discourse in the fields of education, youth studies, and disaster response.

What Will I Be Asked To Do?

You are invited to take part in an individual interview, of approximately 2 hours in duration.

Sample questions: • What has your life been like since graduation? • What has been challenging? • What have been your supports? • When people ask you about the flood, what responses do you give? • Are there stories you have told again and again? • Are there stories you have not told? • How has your relationship to High River changed over time? 1

312

• How have your relationships to your peers and friends changed, or stayed the same? • What have been the hardest lessons in life since high school? • Is there anything you wish you could have told yourself six years ago about how these last six years would go? • Is there anything that you would have done differently if you could? • Anything that you are particularly proud of doing? • What advice would you give other youth who are facing life after disaster? • What supports are needed to help young adults who are living through a disaster? • Is there anything you want me to know that I have not asked about already?

The sessions will be audiotaped, anonymized, and transcribed as a story set to draw upon in the writing of [name removed] dissertation and subsequent scholarly articles and conference presentations.

Participation in this study is completely voluntary. You may refuse to participate altogether, may refuse to participate in parts of the study, may decline to answer any and all questions, and may withdraw from the study at any time.

What Type of Personal Information Will Be Collected?

Unless expressly desired by the participant, no personal identifying information will be collected in this study, and all participant information shall remain confidential.

Only the principle investigators and transcriptionists will have access to the audio-taped recordings.

There are several options for you to consider if you decide to take part in this research. You can choose all, some, or none of them. Please review each of these options and choose Yes or No:

I grant permission to be audio-taped: Yes: ___ No: ___ I wish for my information to remain anonymous: Yes: ___ No: ___ You may quote me and use my name: Yes: ___ No: ___

Are there Risks or Benefits if I Participate?

The risks are minimal but the topic may cause some discomfort. While the study aims to benefit responses to youth living transitioning from life-in-schools to life-out-of-schools after a natural disaster, there are no proposed benefits for individuals who choose to participate in this study.

What Happens to the Information I Provide?

Only the principle investigators and research assistants will have access to the information collected. Your name will not be used without your expressed consent. Pseudonyms will be used to provide anonymity. The research team commits to treating your contributions with reverence and respect.

If you choose to withdraw from the study prior to September 1, 2020, your interview contributions will be omitted and destroyed.

313

If you choose to withdraw from the study after September 1, 2020, your interview contributions will remain part of the data set and subsequent writings; however, your stories will not be shared in subsequent presentations beyond [name removed] doctoral dissertation defense.

No one except the researchers and transcriptionists will be allowed to hear any of the interview tapes. Individual information will be summarized and anonymized for any presentation or publication of results. The anonymous data will be stored for two years on a computer disk; at which time, it will be permanently erased.

Are you interested in being contacted to review, edit, and/or approve the transcript of your interview, with the understanding that you can always decline the request? Yes: ___ No: ___

If you have answered “Yes” to the above question, please provide an email that you can be reached at:

Preferred email address: ______

Are you interested in being contacted about a follow-up interview, with the understanding that you can always decline the request? Yes: ___ No: ___

If you have answered “Yes” to the above question, please provide a phone number or email that you can be reached at:

Preferred email or phone number: ______

Please note: your contact information will remain confidential and secured. You will only be contacted in regard to reviewing the transcript and/or for scheduling a follow up interview, as per your consent.

Signatures

Your signature on this form indicates that 1) you understand to your satisfaction the information provided to you about your participation in this research project, and 2) you agree to participate in the research project.

In no way does this waive your legal rights nor release the investigators, sponsors, or involved institutions from their legal and professional responsibilities. You are free to withdraw from this research project at any time. You should feel free to ask for clarification or new information throughout your participation.

Participant’s Name: (please print) ______

Participant’s Signature: ______Date: ______

Researcher’s Name: (please print) ______

Researcher’s Signature: ______Date: ______

314

Questions/Concerns

If you have any further questions or want clarification regarding this research and/or your participation, please contact:

Dr. [name removed] or [name removed] Werklund School of Education, [phone number removed], [phone number removed] [email removed], [email removed]

If you have any concerns about the way you’ve been treated as a participant, please contact the Research Ethics Analyst, Research Services Office, University of Calgary at [phone number removed]; [email removed]. A copy of this consent form has been given to you to keep for your records and reference. The investigator has kept a copy of the consent form.

Ethics Certificate Number: [ethics number removed]

The Social Science and Humanities Research Council of Canada has awarded a SSHRC Doctoral Fellowship to [name removed] in pursuit of this study.