One Native Life

Connection to the earth was a fundamental tenet of Wagamese’s cultural learning. He conveys that his people believe they are born of the earth, as their “rich brown skin” (8) symbolizes, reminding them of their role as “stewards, caretakers, guardians” (8). However, this understanding was initially absent from his life: He describes himself as “rootless” in his early years. Despite this, he occasionally found a sense of grounding in various elements of his boyhood world. His memoir depicts the earth as a source of salvation and spirituality, and the time spent in communion with it as a time of true spirituality. His people found this connection empowering and liberating, and, reflecting on his life, acknowledges the truth in this wisdom. The earth and its spiritual embrace have played a pivotal role in shaping his journey and perspective.

At six, Wagamese found a hero, not in the typical idols of childhood but in Joe Tacknyk, his foster father. A Ukrainian Canadian mechanic, Joe was a man of few words but had a profound presence. Their bond was forged during early morning fishing trips, enveloped in a profound silence that spoke volumes as they shared a mutual respect and understanding beyond words. Joe’s quiet guidance during these excursions was Wagamese’s first step toward reclaiming his Ojibway identity, teaching him “the language of fishermen” (11) as a means to express the inexpressible. Joe recognized Wagamese’s deep need for a connection to the land, a place where his spirit could be nurtured. When Joe died of cancer, Wagamese paid tribute to him via a long walk on the land, crying “tears of gratitude” (12), a fitting tribute to the man who showed Wagamese his place in the world. Wagamese didn’t fish as much by the time he wrote his memoir, but the lessons from those days with Joe remain, grounding him in his Ojibway identity.

Rituals, no matter how small or seemingly mundane, have the power to ground people, connecting them to family and the world. Simple acts such as walking the dog or preparing a lunch for a partner are daily affirmations of life’s continuity, much like the traditional practices of prayer or smudging. During Wagamese’s childhood, Sunday nights became a sacred ritual, providing a sense of family and belonging that transcended his status as a foster child. Gathering around the television for shows like Supercar, Walt Disney, and The Ed Sullivan Show (14) brought excitement and community spirit into the home. The highlight was Bonanza, in which the Cartwright family’s adventures offered an escape and a sense of belonging. These evenings were a respite from the uncertainty of foster life, filling young Wagamese with images of hope and community. The rituals of the past may have faded in the modern world, but their strength and significance remain vital. These shared practices are integral to the human experience, shining a light on the bonds that unite humans as a tribe.

At seven years old, Wagamese fell in love with a girl named Billie Draper, who represented the quintessence of popularity and skill among their peers. As an Indigenous foster child in Northern Ontario during the 1960s, Wagamese felt alienated from the “real families” and “real neighborhoods” of his classmates. Billie’s smile gave him a fleeting sense of belonging, erasing his feelings of being an outsider. In a daring moment, he engineered a bicycle crash to steal a kiss from her, causing her to scream and run but nevertheless briefly elevating his status among his classmates. Wagamese reflects on his deeper longing for familial love and acceptance, a craving born of disconnection from his cultural roots due to the impact of residential schools on his parents. He recognizes the ongoing struggles of Indigenous children who face similar dislocation and emphasizes the collective responsibility to support others in healing from intergenerational trauma.

Wagamese’s first cinematic experience was in 1964. It was a thrilling escape from the ordinary in a Kenora movie theater, where the weekend matinee was a community staple for children and teens alike. With the admission and snacks secure in his pocket, he absorbed the lively chaos and the transformative quiet as the curtain fell. The feature films, including Hey There, It’s Yogi Bear and Apache Territory, captivated him, igniting his imagination and overshadowing the racial undertones that portrayed his people as “evil savages.” Back then, the glamour and spectacle of the movies eclipsed their cultural insensitivity. He reflects on the progress since then, as Indigenous filmmakers now portray more authentic stories and Hollywood approaches Indigenous narratives with respect. Despite this progress, he nostalgically misses the simple enchantment of those old moviegoing days, including the red curtains and double features, and even the flawed depictions of Indigenous people.

The sight of a flag on a mountain evokes a memory of his own significant encounter with the Canadian flag. As a newly adopted child in a small town, he felt alienated, the only Indigenous face in a sea of white, adrift in unfamiliarity. His school chose him to raise the new Canadian flag for the first time during the Victoria Day celebration, seeing it as a tribute to the original inhabitants of Canada. This honor instilled in him a fleeting sense of belonging and possibility, a belief in Canada’s inclusivity and potential. However, as he matured, he recognized the complexity of the national anthem and the flag as symbols of both hope and division. Despite this, his love for his country remains, and he views every Indigenous claim and protest as a call for the true equality and shared vision that the flag purports to offer: “[a] wish, a held breath waiting to be exhaled” (25). The flag above the lake thus symbolizes both unity and ongoing struggle.

Under the night sky, Wagamese finds solace and connection to the universe. A childhood stargazer, he reminisces about the northern lights of his youth, a world away from the legends of his people. After his adoption, the city lights dimmed the stars, but he sought them out, finding comfort in a field that once was a farm. There, a fellow stargazer taught him to locate Arcturus, igniting a lifelong awe and curiosity about the cosmos. This simple act of finding Arcturus became a beacon of wonder throughout his life, reminding him of the vastness and mystery of the universe. It was a lesson in possibility, a bridge between his early longing for the secrets of the night sky and the traditional stories of the elders. Finding Arcturus, a star 37 light years away, always brings him back to that first moment of discovery, emphasizing the enduring human need to share and seek wonder in the universe around us.

In the hush of early morning, Wagamese finds his inspiration to write, as the breaking light brings clarity and form to his surroundings and thoughts. He recounts struggling with writing as a child in a Northern Ontario school, where the teacher dismissed him as a slow learner and placed him near the back of the classroom. He was thus unable to read the blackboard due to undiagnosed astigmatism. His earnest desire to learn led him to teach himself to write by mimicking the kid behind him, resulting in his writing upside down and backwards. When this was discovered, the ridicule from classmates weighed heavily on him, and he felt ashamed. However, a caring teacher took notice, got him glasses, and patiently helped him learn to write properly. Through this process, he realized the power of caring to set things right. As an adult, even as he types on a keyboard, he never forgets the journey of learning to write and the teacher who saw past his ethnicity to his needs, helping him correct his upside-down and backward letters—a symbol of life’s challenges and the transformative power of kindness.

At age 10, Wagamese first learned to drive a tractor. It was during the threshing season in Huron County, a time marked by a strong sense of community and mutual assistance. His role was vital, carefully steering to keep the workers atop the laden wagon safe. The camaraderie and shared purpose of the harvest, underscored by the generous meals and relaxed conversations afterward, gave him a profound sense of inclusion, contrasting with the isolation he often felt as a foster child. This experience of unity and collective effort resonated with him into adulthood, reflecting the deeper connection with the land in both his adoptive farming community and his Indigenous people—a defining and sustaining connection. He draws a parallel between these memories of farming and the contemporary issues of land claims and treaty rights, emphasizing the importance of honoring promises and seeking a common future built on understanding and respect among neighbors. The land, he asserts, unites everyone and should be the basis for honoring agreements and fostering community.

Receiving a General Electric transistor radio as a gift at age 10 opened a world far beyond Wagamese’s small Canadian town. This radio, the first item he could truly call his own, became a constant companion, a window to global events and a gateway to many musical genres. It brought news of the world, the Rolling Stones, the World Series, historical milestones, and celebrity tragedies into his hands. At night, beneath the sheets, he explored the “endless universe of sounds” (39), discovering blues, country, rock, and jazz (and the emotions they evoked), jotting down frequencies to capture these audible treasures. The radio’s influence was profound, eventually leading him to a career in broadcasting and shaping his identity as a writer and a person. Even as technology evolved, the lessons from his “nine-volt heart” (40) remained: There was always more to learn and experience, a realization that enriched his life and self-understanding.

Wagamese observes the birds on the lake from his vantage point on a rock, immersed in the life-affirming dance of nature. This scene ignites a memory from his childhood, a time when he longed for stability after multiple moves with his adopted family. At 11, seeking a connection to something enduring, he found solace in a maple bush, where he observed the seasonal transformations. When spring permitted, he ventured into the marshlands, encountering the vibrant life therein, including a pair of wood ducks. In awe of their beauty and the miracle of their nesting, he quietly observed them, finding a profound sense of belonging and peace. Watching the wood ducks hatch and thrive, he experienced a moment of unity and kinship that transcended the impermanence he’d felt in his life. Now, as he watches the birds on the lake busily tending to their spring rituals, he feels a sense of continuity, ready to witness the cycle begin anew.

Alone by the river, Wagamese felt a deep connection to the land that provided him the freedom to dream and create. This connection was something his adoptive family at the time, none of whom had any interest in fishing or the outdoors, could not understand. They saw his solitary fishing trips as odd, unaware of the profound lessons he was learning about life and nature. One day, beside a river in Ontario, he caught an enormous pike after a vigorous battle. Holding the pike, he felt the full vitality of life, but he chose to release it back into the water. This act of freeing the fish was a personal triumph, embodying respect, honor, and love: values deeply rooted in his identity as part of the Sturgeon Clan. The experience was profound, yet he kept it to himself, knowing that his family could not grasp the significance of the moment or the overwhelming joy it brought him.

At 12, Wagamese cherished simple pleasures like the warmth of a morning fire and its promise of a new day. This ritual brings to mind his childhood friend Shane Rivers, a boy from a poor family who knew hardship in Mildmay, Ontario. Shane, who had big ears and bulging blue eyes, was often overlooked by others because of his poverty. Despite their meager possessions and the starkness of their home, Shane’s family shared a rich warmth around their wood stove, a warmth that extended beyond the physical. Their meals were simple yet filled with genuine conversation and attention to each other. In contrast to his own experience, Wagamese felt truly seen and valued in the Rivers home. The love and community they shared around their fire taught him that material comforts pale in comparison to the nourishment of being listened to and loved. Now, as he lights his own fire, he reflects on the deep warmth he felt in Shane’s home, realizing that the true essence of wealth lies in heart and hearth, not in material abundance.

Reminiscing about childhood friendships and pursuits, Wagamese recounts his memories with Ricky Lark, a companion from his youth whose speed and passion for baseball were unmatched. As outsiders in a community of established farmer families, they bonded over their mutual love for the game. Ricky’s relentless encouragement during their races, shouting, “Come on, Rich, it’s the bottom of the ninth and we need you home!” (54), spurred the narrator to never give up, teaching him resilience and determination. Although their paths diverged and their calls became infrequent, the impact of their friendship remained. As an adult, Wagamese experienced racism and the politics of exclusion, yet he learned that embracing something beyond oneself can reveal new aspects of one’s identity. The memories of Ricky and the love of baseball represent a time when racial differences didn’t matter—only the joy of sharing something greater than themselves. He carries this lesson with him, cherishing the notion that the spirit of inclusion and the echoes of a friend’s encouragement will follow him to life’s end.

Gazing at the clear blue sky, Wagamese ponders a connection to the cosmos, recalling a time when such musings provided solace during another move with his adopted family. Writing became his refuge, offering a sense of permanence and self-expression that his pragmatic parents dismissed as fanciful. Despite their derision, he persisted, finding solace and freedom in his creative work. Entering city life in St. Catharines, he conformed to fit in, yet his true passion remained in his stories and poems, private expressions of his yearning for a different life. His teacher, Mr. Rozema, recognized his talent and encouraged him, sharing a poem that resonated with Wagamese’s own aspirations. This recognition and understanding from an adult were pivotal, validating his creativity and identity. Mr. Rozema’s encouragement affirmed Wagamese’s path as a writer, helping him see that within everyone lies a piece of the sky, guiding their journey.

Wagamese reflects on the joy and kinship he felt with a pony named Dimples during a summer at his relatives’ farm. At 13, tasked with chores and feeling out of place, he connected with Dimples, a Shetland cross previously abused and deemed unrideable. He recognized in Dimples a shared sense of displacement and fear. Patiently, he earned her trust, speaking softly and moving gently, until she allowed him to groom and halter her. Their bond grew as he began to ride her, progressing from walking to cantering and eventually to a full gallop, which he describes as pure joy and glory. His time with Dimples taught him about healing through kindness, gentleness, and respect. Lessons from animals transcended his loneliness and sadness. This experience of union with Dimples was his first sense of true kinship, a spirit-level connection that he reminisces about whenever he rides, remembering the challenge and the victory of their bond.

At 15, Wagamese found solace and freedom in long-distance running, a contrast to his family’s hockey-centric view of sports. Joining the school team, the Grantham Gators, marked a personal victory. He admired (and aspired to beat) Ken Werezak, a legendary rival runner known for his unbeatable pace. Training rigorously, Wagamese imagined overtaking Werezak, chanting his name as a mantra during solitary runs. During their first race, he kept pace with Werezak for a mile, fueled by determination, but ultimately couldn’t surpass him. Despite never winning, Wagamese cherished the moments running shoulder-to-shoulder with Werezak, interpreting his glances as recognition of his effort and equality. This validation was significant for him, echoing the legacy of his people’s messengers and the spiritual pursuit of running. For him, running was more than a sport; it was a way to feel alive and powerful, smoothing the edges of his turbulent life. The real triumph was not in winning but in being a worthy competitor in the race.