June 2013 Free BrantAdvocate.

com

Local Content Locally Owned Locally Produced

June 2013 Free BrantAdvocate.com

Local Content Locally Owned Locally Produced

Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself.
~Harvey Fierstein

Photography by Paul Smith, Photohouse Studio. www.photohouse.ca

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June 2013

So, Whats a Pride Friendly Business Anyway?

by Marc Laferriere, Twitter: @MarcLaferriere

The Brant Advocate is proud to be one of many local Pride Friendly Businesses in the area. We have a solid track record of being an inclusive publication, and have published many articles that promote anti-oppressive philosophies. Our hope is these articles will help to build bridges between the LGBTQ (lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, transgendered and queer) community, their allies and other members of the community. Unfortunately, despite the strides that have been made in our community around such issues problems still remain. Weve lost advertisers for running a photo of two men kissing several months ago, but frankly that is nothing compared to the fear and discomfort some members of the LGBTQ community feel in their day-to-day lives if they were to express their love publicly. Growing up I was very h o m o phobic. So were many of my friends. We made the jokes, we used the slurs, we said things like, if so and so told me they were gay I would beat them up. We were young, dumb and easily influenced, but we changed. I still spend a significant amount of time with those old friends, but now its different. Now I see them at Pride events, or I see they have replaced their Facebook profile photos with the red equal symbol in support of marriage equity. What happened? We grew up, we met more people from diverse sexual and gender backgrounds and we realized that we were the ones with

hang ups, not them. I remember that when I speak with people who are homophobic or unaccepting. People can change. My friends and I are proof. Now its refreshing to see how many young people from all sexual and gender backgrounds are leading the way when it comes to equality in communities like ours. Gay-Straight Alliances are being supported by youth in high schools, and while I know homophobia still exists in our education system as it does in many other places, it is nice to see more balance in this regard. In the business community locally weve begun to see a real shift happen too. I still have people remark to me how cool they thought it was on the day that the City of Brantford raised the Pride Flag, and that they saw a large rainbow flag flying from the property that is home to Netty Vintage. I see how busy the Pizza Hut on King George Rd is when they host fundraisers for Pride events. It is really nice to see and hear all the fun and laughter being had there on those days. The reaction when Sophias Bakery took the first local Pride Friendly Business sticker and proudly placed it on their window was overwhelmingly positive. I love seeing the comments on beautiful and fun photos of gay weddings being on Facebook shared whenever Paul & Steve from Photohouse Studio are hired

for those gigs. I hear great comments about the folks from Brantford Fabrics who keep rainbow material in stock and are happy to supply it. Its great to see large corporations like the Scotiabank on Colborne Street donating significant amounts to Brantford Pride each year. Businesses big and small in our community have been helping to stop the stigma around this issue, and it has been a positive step. Earlier this year The Bridge--which is an organizing group of local community members who are LGBTQ and allies--developed a Pride Friendly Business Program. In the interest of full disclosure I am happy to report that I serve as a Bridge member and as one of the owners of this publication I also am a member of their business outreach subcommittee. Similar programs exist in many places including Toronto, Thunder Bay, North Carolina and Seattle. That committee has created a small information sheet for local business owners who might be interested in becoming a Pride Friendly Business, and as a Pride Friendly Business ourselves we are happy to share it with you: What does it mean to be an LGBTQ friendly business? Being an LGBTQ friendly business means that you recognize the LGBTQ community here in Brantford as important to local business, you encourage a supportive, welcoming and inclusive environment and you are open to considering dynamic opportunities to support LGBTQ community initiatives. What is the point? LGBTQ people are more likely to experience physical or verbal victimization than the general population. It is important to help create an atmosphere of acceptance that encourages everyone to feel welcomed. By displaying a Pride Sticker you are helping to increase awareness of the LGBTQ community in Brantford. You are also promoting an inclusive environment where discrimination against the LGBTQ community is not tolerated. It is likely that if you are known to

show solidarity and support to the LGBTQ community that they will show preference to your business. What is the difference between an LGBTQ friendly space and a safe space? LGBTQ friendly, is in reference to your business commitment to creating a respectful and welcoming environment for the LGBTQ community. Safe space, refers to locations that have completed the Safe Spaces training program through the Grand River Community Health Centre and Sexual Assault Centre of Brant, and who have put into action policies that reflect the values of having a safe space. It is important to recognize the distinctions between these two references. LGBTQ friendly, refers to a support and raising awareness initiative and safe space is an accredited designation. 5 Tips on How to be a LGBTQ friendly business: Treat everyone with common courtesy and respect. Never assume anyones sexual or gender identity. Not everyone is heterosexual. Communicate widely the importance of having an i n clusive workplace for your employees and c u s tomers. Make it clear that discrimination against LGBTQ people is unacceptable. In any policies or training you do include a zerotolerance stance to homophobic language. Extend your support and be a part of any LGBTQ community initiatives like Pride Brantford. Being an LGBTQ friendly business is not just about a sticker. Its about an ongoing commitment to raising awareness and supporting the LGBTQ community in Brantford.

Bike for the Turtle

by Carrie Sinkowski
I know in my mind that I need to move on to different work for many different reasons, both emotionally and financially, but Im having a hard time separating myself from my work which is why I am having difficulty transitioning from rape crisis work to another field. My difficulty does not stem from community work being an integral part of my core, but rather because this community, by which I mean Brantford and Six Nations, has snared my heart in so many ways that the thought of leaving it pulls my heart into pieces. During university I had a small project contract at the Centre and came back to work full time upon graduation. It was only ever meant to be temporary-an eight month contract that turned into eleven years. Many opportunities have presented themselves but I did not venture towards them, which at first glance I thought was due to my own insecurities and trepidation, but with greater inspection and introspection I realized it was not because of me but because of others that I could not leave my work. To give an example of what I mean, I offer the Bike for the Turtle event. In addition to this event there will also be a bike rodeo coordinated by Brantford Police, displays by other agencies including Brantford Fire and Childrens Aid Society. We will also be making sure that everyone has a full belly with a BBQ. The turtle is Taylor, and the event is not mine. It is being hosted by the Eagle Place Community Association. John Gefucia and Steven Boudreau contacted me in the late winter. All they told me was that they wanted to discuss an idea. I had no idea what to expect when I went to meet them at Stevens office. I was shocked and extremely touched when they shared that they wanted my permission to host an event in honour of Taylor the Turtle. This will be the first year for Taylor and though it is taking place in Eagle Place and is hosted by the Community Association, the hope is that others from around Brantford will attend and the event will grow in size in coming years. The concept is that this one event will have many events c o n tained within it at the Doug Snooks C o m m u nity Centre. For interested bike riders they can collect pledges and complete a ride on a designated trail and the funds raised will go to the Taylor the Turtle programme. Though the Centre is funded by the Ministry of the Attorney General, the Taylor the Turtle program is not and we must fundraise through various m e t h ods to cover our costs for resources and materials for crafts, which are at the core of the self expression and self confidence building components of the programme. We have received many acts of kindness from unions, such as the firefighters and police, as well as the City and private enterprise such as Brant County Power. The programme has gained in popularity, which has correlated to an increased cost in maintaining the integrity and capacity of Taylor. Taylor the Turtle is a sexual abuse prevention programme that does not talk about sexual abuse, but rather we focus on self confidence, safety planning and emotional expression, which r e search has shown to be protective factors. Making sexual violence prevention a community issue is the key goal of the community education programme at the Sexual Assault Centre, and any support you lend us is greatly appreciated. Our hearts are extremely warmed to know that people care about our programme and are willing to invest their own time and efforts to make sure we are supported and that Taylor thrives in this community. Thank you all so much for making Brantford a safer place, and for making it my second home. In addition to the Association supporting us, we also have an official sponsor who approached us. The Brant Advocate. We are very excited to have this event, and our programme recognized by such an amazing, progressive institution in Brantford. To find out more about our event please see our facebook page for date and location.

June 2013

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Page 3

Death has never looked so good: glistening new cadillac hearses, intricately carved tombstones and painfully polished urns line the convention center aisles. In a corner booth, concrete angels with soft, haunting gazes look outward--guaranteed to catch an eye or two in the cemetery plot. Ghostly mannequins, sporting freshly pressed black suits, show off this year s coffin couture. Propped up caskets, hand carved and finished, are garnished with metallic foil and lavish prints. They scream who says I cant take it with me when I go? The lights overhead burn fluorescent white. Everything sparkles. Glossy banners and signs are equally blinding; rightfully so, the place is littered with them. Big names like Spencer and Batesville loom around every corner. Their products reflect flashbulbs as cameras click. The carpet, of course, is a deep blood red. Buyers and sellers pace up and down. They wander through the cluttered rows; a sea of faded ties, slicked back hair and matching dark suit combinations-a few charcoal pencil skirts sway by. This is business, after all. Like any other sales conference, promises are made; products are pushed. Have you seen our environmentally friendly embalming fluid? Take a look at these memorial boxes! Who wouldnt want to wear some of their loved ones ashes in our engraved lockets? These pieces make up a relatively ordinary F u neral Exposition; a style of meeting industry insiders are more than comfortable with. Events, much like this, take place all over the world: in Bologna, Las Vegas and here now in Toronto. Theyre designed to bring funeral owners and vendors together. Rene De Diego remembers his first. Bright eyed--a big smile plastered on his face--he worked a small booth. Im talking and making some good connections, but then following up funeral owners are s a y ing, yup thanks for the information, nope thats great, thats awesome, and then you can hear the crickets, says De Diego. H e s t h e o w n e r o f a B r i t i s h C o l u m b i a b a s e d memorial service; one of many trying to blow the funeral industry open in response to the h o m o g enization of death practices. De Diegos company converts cremated human remains into sparkling lab grown gems--a process that, to the layman, seems plagiarized from the pages of a science fiction novel. And yet, its a real option; one that requires 450 grams of human ash, and takes up to ten months to complete. To kick it all off, cremains are turned into crystallized graphite. Next, pressure and high heat are added. Finally, you have your diamonds. Out of the ordinary perhaps, but in light of more recent memorial choices De Diegos company isnt all that odd. From clown sendoffs, to drive-thru eulogies, saying goodbye to a loved one has taken on some pretty unorthodox shades in the twenty first century. Strippers dance in skimpy outfits alongside caskets in Taiwan. Families, all over the United States, purchase airbrushed, mural style, coffins with images like massive American flags, the band KISS and Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer. Celestis Inc. launches cremated remains into the lower hemisphere of earths orbit twice a year via a space shuttle. A lot of these funeral homes are family owned businesses... youre going in and saying, I kind of want to rock your world, but if people want to do it theyre going to do it, says De Diego. Its a resolve he knows a little something about. Years ago, when De Diegos grandfather Henry died, he was faced with a rather unusual predicament. Henrys second wife, and recent widow, couldnt bring herself to pick up his ashes from the f u neral home. Instead, she left all decisions and arrangements to De Diego--a weighty responsibility. So, I took his ashes home, and my wife was

like, whats that? And Im like, uh, thats just Henry. I thought, what am I going to do with this? After months of research he locked in on memorial diamonds. At the time however, Switzerland was the only country that offered the service. De D i e g o s s t o m a c h t u r n e d a t t h e t h o u g h t o f s h i p ping his grandfather s ashes so far. Instead, he flew over with them, and personally oversaw the process. It wasnt long after this trip that he brought the business model back to Canada. The reason I went into it is the same reason Im in it today. I think its a wonderful memorial choice, says De Diego. After all, diamonds are forever. ... People get it. Old, young, and in between. To them it just makes sense, says Janet McCausland on her success in greening up the funeral industry. As an employee for the Natural Burial Association of Canada she promotes low impact burials, which include easily decomposable wood coffins, and a total lack of embalming fluids. Formaldehyde is a big no-no. Bodies are buried on sites that look a lot like open fields or parks, sometimes even a meadow if youre lucky. There are no headstones and no big monuments--just nature.

truck into a trident submarine--300 people a t tended his burial in minus 20 degree weather. Friends and family, wrapped in thick coats and heavy scarves, carried his body. They sang and wailed along the way. And, when they finally reached the plot, they placed him in the ground gently, taking turns with shovels--his grave filled in a few scoops of dirt at a time. Halfway through, everyone stopped and laid flat rocks, in the shape of a cross, above his body. The funeral industry takes that away from the family. They do all the work. A coffin they put in the ground is filled in by a bulldozer, and there isnt a way to express grief. These funerals are whatever the people in the community want to make of it, says Kenneth Chou. As a photographer and an academic at Ryerson U n i v e r s i t y, C h o u h a s s p e n t a l o t o f t i m e d o c u menting these burials in Ithaca. He often refers to the county as a progressive place; ironic maybe in light of the bare bones nature of their funerals. He warns though that progressive doesnt necessarily mean modern. After completing his thesis on death rituals, Chou says the incredible strangeness of our burial customs in North America has shaken him far more than anything else. Years ago he witnessed a run of the mill embalming at a funeral home, and what he saw deeply u n nerved him. Chou vividly remembers the e x perience. The lifeless body, naked on a metal table, twitching and contorting; its head rolling off the block it initially rested on. The sterile worker, clad in a hospital gown and a surgical mask, prodding the flesh with tubes--thrusting a hollow spike in the stomach to suck out any r e maining content, so bacteria couldnt eat the corpse from the inside out. Then there were two more breaking the skin, the first to drain blood, and the second to replenish the veins with a cocktail of chemicals, including formaldehyde. The slow application of makeup to the dead womans morose yellow face--blush as thick

someone. A lot has changed since, says Chou. This is also true in the sense of how ceremonies are run and viewed. Along with shifting burial practices, has come very different memorial practices-- different takes on long term care. ... I f a per s on in mour ning appear s polis h ed, put t o gether and calm, psychologists warn, more often than not its because the depth of the situation hasnt sunk in. Lois Scott, the aftercare counselor for Beckett and Glaves Funeral Home can relate to this feeling. I talked to her at nine-thirty and she was dead by ten after ten, she says. So I cant remember it, either that or I blocked it, but I barely remember. Theres bits and pieces, but people have to fill in the blanks. Her mother, at age 58, died of a massive heart attack. This tragedy is part of the reason Scott spearheads programs targeted at helping mourners long after the initial burial. Working for corporate homes in the past, including one branch of a Texas conglomerate she doesnt name, Scott says continual counselling was never a viable option--likening their business model to pay up and get out. Our philosophy here is we dont leave you at the door after you pay, and say bye, have a nice day. Its continuing care. I think thats really important... This move, in the context of current death p r a c tices, is strange. From a young age were taught that death is meant to give us the heebie jeebies. In North America especially, talking about it and being around it is supposed to set off alarm bells; we shouldnt want to come back to a place that deals with this reality. Yet, Beckett and Glaves goes to great lengths to maintain that connection. They host a well attended tree planting ceremony each fall, and afterwards, a reception with coffee and warm apple cider. In December, they have a vigil where family members come and light a candle for the person theyve lost. And from day to day, Scott leads support groups f o r m o u r n e r s w i t h i n t h e f u n e r a l h o m e . S h e r e mains good friends with many of the women whove attended her widows chapter over the years. Honestly, when they come they dont think theyre ever going to get through it, says Scott. At the end of six weeks you wouldnt believe the difference. They have hope by then. This is an overwhelming statement in light of the reality: experiencing the death of a loved one is considered the worst personal tragedy possible. After all, death is a brutal and cruel force; one that has terrorized and terrified man since the dawn of time. What happens when the lights go o u t ? W h a t d o w e d o w h e n s o m e o n e around us disappears forever? Is it really possible to simply sink some money into a crisp burial suit, and a cherry wood coffin, take a week or so off from work, and be mostly over it? Theres this anesthetization of the idea that death is real, and death hurts, and were all going to die, says Reverend Jonathan Massimi. Its something people in polite society dont talk about. Thats why space burials and memor ial d i a m o n d s o f t e n i l l i c i t t h e c r i t i c i s m o f b e i n g i n appropriate. Thats why natural burial makes us squirm. For Massimi, death and life are part of a bigger story: of family, community and faith. He urges us to look at the greater metanarrative o f o u r l i v e s , a n d p l a c e o u r s e l v e s a l o n g t h e c o n tinuum--to remember and honour those who have passed, for the benefit of those who are still living. To do it simply and honestly. No one gets out of here alive, says Massimi. And hes right, death is all consuming; not an event that can be easily smoothed over or nullified. And, it isnt something we can prevent. Bodies, after all, crumble and decay, at a haunting and alarming rate. Young, old, rich and poor, it finds us all--the great equalizer. As Chou so brutally learned, no matter how much perfume you apply to a corpse, its still a corpse. No matter how shiny and new the coffin, the thing is still going straight into the ground; to be covered in earth, manure and worms. This is the reality; the reality North Americans have fought tooth and nail. But now, some are asking the question; what do we really need to remember?

When we started talking to funeral d i rectors and cemetery folks about natural burial they all said oh, what a great idea, but theres no market for it, says McCausland. In the beginning, gaining any sort of traction was d i ff i c u l t . F u neral home owners had the same criticism for McCausland as they did for De Diego--how many people would possibly choose this over a traditional chapel sendoff? As it turns out, quite a number. With a handful of natural burial sites in Canada already, including the first Ontario plot in Cobourg, and an annex in Mount Pleasant, its a growing movement--its biggest successes coming from marketing to aging e n v i ronmentalists and activists. For them, theres no other burial choice quite like it. As McCausland says, once a cemetery, always a cemetery. This is true, by law. So, through each death a piece of shared green space is protected, foreseeably, forever. I t ju s t mad e s en s e to u s to talk to co n v er ted environmentalists first. I mean, the story is so good, says McCausland. At the forefront of this movement is Ithaca, a small county in upstate New York. Its natural burial plot, Greensprings, looks like a rolling meadow. Long grass grows between scattered rocks. Wildflowers dot the landscape with bursts of purple. Even in the winter, when the ground is heavy with permafrost and all vegetation curls, families and friends bundle up and make the trek. For many in the county a funeral isnt something thats done behind closed doors, or arranged by a select few--its a community affair. So, when one of their own, Peter DeMott, died-an anti-war activist best known for driving a

by Leisha Senko Twitter: @leishasenko

as paint--made him ill. Up close, he says, it felt like he was staring at a doll. Most of them, they dont look like people to be honest, says Chou. Worse than appearance however, was the stench. I didnt realize how bad it smelt until I left the funeral home and was in the parking lot. I was smelling my clothes and it was everywhere. It was the smell of embalming fluid, says Chou. After seeing it myself, its not something I would want someone close to me going through. In an earlier era bodies were washed, and cared for by relatives. Buried, often, on the same day they died, but thats all changed. Embalming is massively normalized now, and seldom ever questioned. Where did it come from? Chou says its a trend that can be traced back to the U.S. Civil war era, right around the 1860s. Families of soldiers wanted to see their sons, brothers and fathers for the last time before laying them to r es t. With men f igh tin g days aw ay f r om their native towns and cities, people began preserving bodies through chemical means, and sending them back via train. Then, around the same time, former President Lincoln died. His body was embalmed, and photographed for all to see--this, the people said, is what a proper burial looks like. Today in North America its just what we do. That was the way they wanted to remember

90 Morton Ave East Brantford 519.757.1800 www.handcraftedwood.ca

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June 2013

Fresh Eyes
by Mike Donachie, Twitter: @Mike_Donachie
Hello. Im new. People keep trying to tell me that my arrival in Canada is unconnected to the fact the very earth has trembled. Apparently, the 4.8-magnitude earthquake was felt across southern Ontario but, as a new immigrant looking to make my mark, I like to think it was just for me. Just humour me. Arriving in a new place is always going to be exciting, but if I may resort to British understatement moving to a different continent is kind of a big deal. Im sure many readers of the Advocate will be familiar with the challenges of shutting down an entire life, saying goodbye to everyone you know and starting again, thousands of miles away. Its an overwhelming, almost frightening experience, but my family has a big advantage: we have been lucky enough to arrive in Brantford. It was not an entirely random occurrence. The weekend before we left Scotland yes, like 17 per cent of the province we have that Scottish link but, no, I dont talk like that strange, strange man in the lawn feed ad my uncle told me the story of how he arrived in Canada on October 1, 1974 in search of work. At first it was Toronto but pretty soon he and his brother were in Brantford and, in small groups, my relatives have been coming here ever since. You can find us here and there around the city if you follow the smell of beer. I call it the Very Slow Invasion. So here I am with my wife and two small children as permanent residents, and I hope I can offer a newcomers perspective on the place. Robert Burns, the great Scottish poet, once wrote about how useful it can be, to see ourselves as others see us, and, as a print journalist and all-round storyteller for many years, I bring a fresh eye, having newly departed a country that is markedly different in important ways. Its fascinating to hear people talk about tough times in Canada, Ontario and Brantford. I know that many jobs have vanished and lots of people have difficulties making ends meet but, to be blunt, Canada as a whole has been insulated from many of the problems that other countries have faced. In the UK, at one point the currency took a healthy jump because fears that the country would enter recession for a third time proved unfounded. Think about that: the silver lining was that the economy was only in the toilet twice. Yes, its been grim. A glance at the job ads online has been an eye-opener, too. In my industry, there are more new job postings in Ontario every day than I used to see in the whole of the UK in a week. Yes, margins are tighter and competition is fierce I know about the layoffs in the print media in recent years but the health of newspapers, as businesses and community focal points, remains robust. I found myself chuckling aloud as I researched the circulations of members of the Ontario Community Newspapers Association, which doesnt even include every newspaper group, and the total for local papers distributed came to more than seven million a week. Thats just astonishing. way that other countries would envy, and added to that is a vibrant culture of entrepreneurship, small businesses and business-to-business opportunities. To arrive here is, literally, a life-changing experience. To arrive in Brantford, where we have family members and their warm, welcoming friends, has been very special indeed. To be part of this Canadian experience, this success story, is a moment of such import in our lives that my family will talk about it for generations. It defines us, even more than our Scottish background. Being Scottish makes us what we are but the potential to be Canadian makes us what we will be.

Yes, margins are tighter and competition is fierce I know about the layoffs in the print media in recent years but the health of newspapers, as businesses and Beyond the rarefied community focal points, atmosphere of that remains robust. So thank you, Brantford, for single industry, Ontarios

Revisiting the Myths of Poverty

by Becca Vanderkemp, Twitter: @beccavdk
Microwave dinners always reminded Megan of her ex. Her stomach turned a little just thinking of him and their painful history. She shut out the flashbacks of his drunken screaming and the countless bruises with which he had a habit of decorating her skin. Soon enough the antique appliance beeped, announcing that its job was finished. She pulled the steaming wax box out and brought it to the table. Even though Caelas birthday party wasnt until Saturday, her actual birthday was today, so the least Megan could do was let her pick their dinner. It figured that the little stinker would choose a Beef Hungry Man dinner. Kids have the weirdest taste. Caela clearly didnt associate her daddys violence with cheap processed food like Megan did. As they sat down to eat, they talked about Caelas birthday party. From the sounds of it, there were five girls from her class coming. They would meet at the public splash pad, play in the water, and open presents after cake and freezies. Caela was beyond excited. The smell of the food had lured Megan into a fit of anxiety. She tried hard to mask it with happiness for her daughters birthday, but in truth, she was so ill at ease that she even felt nauseous. Aside from the horror of having to relive the terrible relationship she was in as a teen in her mind, feelings of inadequacy were creeping back up on her as well. As a 22-year-old living off of Ontario Works, she just didnt have much of a budget to work with. There was no way shed be able to give her kid the kind of birthday party her friends bragged about. Bouncy castles? Fancy fondant cakes? Dozens of guests and themed decorations? Free entertainment, a few balloons, and the most basic of party foods was the best it was going to be. Megan had even gone looking through the dollar store to find anything she could to use as decorations at home, but even then, it was all just too expensive. It didnt help that Caelas birthday was at the end of the month. Stretching an O.W. check for thirty days was a huge challenge. Maybe if they could move somewhere cheaper, theyd be okay, but they had been on the affordable housing waiting list for what seemed like years. It shocked Megan how often she referenced the money saving workshops she had attended while at the womens shelter after she left her ex. Caela was yammering on about something to do with

booming. Signs by the roadside boast Were hiring. Big employers like Toyota maintain permanent adverts looking for recruits. Politicians make speeches about the urgent need to train the unemployed to fill vacant roles. Online and print ads for workers are everywhere, at least to my eyes. The volume of population, plus the excellent roads infrastructure and the sheer mobility of potential workers, has the place buzzing in a

the welcome we have enjoyed, like so many other arrivals. My thanks also to the Advocate for the chance to let my witterings out through my fingers and on to a page. I hope I can stick around and tell a few stories, and perhaps keep describing this place, as others see us, until, hopefully soon, Im no longer one of the others and I feel like Im on stable ground here, however it may shake.

recess. Megan rubbed her temples and put her smile back on. The worries could wait. Today was special. This issue, the Brant-Brantford Roundtable on Poverty (BBROP) wants to highlight something simple: a glimpse into the life of a mom on a budget. We have looked at poverty in a number of different forms, and will hopefully continue to do so in upcoming issues. We would very much like to ruin the myths, misconceptions, and lies about the face of poverty. The story of Megan and Caela, just like our previous stories, is fictional. However, it represents a pretty realistic glimpse into the life of someone living in poverty. Challenges for folks in a situation like Megans often include bouts of anxiety and depression, and a host of other issues. At the same time, they also show resilience and strength of character. Even though many single moms are challenged by having limited support networks, at the same time, people like Megan get creative to solve problems and find solutions to lead lives that are as normal as possible. Unfortunately, it is unlikely that someone like Megan will finish high school, especially after getting pregnant in her mid teens. The problem with this lies not only in being under-qualified for a great many jobs, but also in the skills that werent gained through the courses taken there. Simple things like the ability to develop a strong resume, or even composing a cover letter, will also make it more difficult to find employment, even with the support of

agencies geared toward job assistance. Further, the opportunity to gain these skills and qualifications is diminished when access to child care is limited. And, while it may seem like solving the if only problems (e.g. if only I could find a cheaper place to live; if only I could get my G.E.D.) would be the ultimate solution to stepping out of poverty, reaching a basic level of prosperity is a complex process. Developing autonomy is crucial, but its not easy on ones own. Even encouraging people who are having financial struggles is a great idea, as its far too easy to get discouraged. Celebrating their successes and assisting where possible (even if its just adding your name to the persons babysitter list) can help more than most people would think. Further, you can support programs aimed toward skill building, resource management, support services and mental health assistance. Additionally, we need to invest in preventative strategies to keep girls out of these situations in the first place. Building self esteem in young girls can give them the resolve to avoid unhealthy relationships. Mentoring young guys can help them to be better boyfriends, husbands and fathers. Also, making sure that the child in the situation has their physical and emotional needs met can assist in breaking the cycle. While a person by himself or herself cant change a life, collective efforts can change entire communities.

The Theology of Mike on a Bike

by Dave Carrol, Twitter: @davecarrol
How ya doin. How ya been? says Mike on a bike. As in many summers gone by, I will spend every Thursday night in Harmony Square decked out in my Captain Kindness suit, helping to provide family flavor to the movie nights. And every week Mike on a bike is there. Of course he is, you say, because Mike is everywhere people are. He cruises Brantfords most famous bike, pedaled by its most famous Mike, through the crowd, waving like its the arrival of the Queen of England on a tour of the colonies. By the end of the night, Mike on a bike will have shaken 200 hands, inquired of the well-being of 200 more, danced to the delight of the masses, eaten a free sausage from the Freedom House tent and pedaled off into the night to rest up, so as to repeat the process. I marvel at what he does. He has the crowd-handling skills of a seasoned politician without the selfish ambition. He has the charm of a casanova, without the pretension. He invokes crowd joy en masse and the, hey theres a celebrity! rush of adrenaline that I remember getting when Id spot Wayne Gretzky shopping for last minute Christmas gifts in the Lynden Park Mall on Christmas Eve. Dude is one smooth customer... in a crisp white Mike Foligno esc helmet. I hypothesized to the Brantford Facebook and Twitter braintrust a while back that Mike on a bike is easily one of the top five most recognized people in Brantford. I found few arguments that held water. So, I brainstormed and asked, why is Mike on a bike this popular? How does he do it? How did this local man of mystery seemingly accidentally become somebody people love? Here were a few crowd-sourced answers. He's friendly to everyone no matter who they are. He isn't afraid to be nice! -- Brayden Beattie I can't say I have ever seen Mike in a bad mood....nor have I seen him treat anyone differently. He always says hi to everyone regardless of size, image, race...it really doesn't matter. -- Paul Moore He doesn't seem to have much fear of what people think; He is consistent with his presence all throughout the city, for years with that jolly-good attitude. A consistent presence changes the atmosphere, and he seems to make Brantford just a tad bit happier! -- Rebecca Frank Mike on a bike has the innocence of a child. Kids happily smile, wave and say hi to strangers, until their parents tell them of the evil of the world. It's like he conveys that childlike faith in people and his friendly smiles seem to be quite contagious. Who can see him and not laugh or smile and say Hi! I'm good Mike, how YOU doin?" -- Anonymous

It is rare these days that people will greet you with more than a nod or look, much less introduce themselves and show genuine interest in your response. Mike has skills that most of us don't have but secretly wish we did. -- Bonnie Carnahan When I put on my shoes I think of Mike because I know he'd like them! -- Jessalyn Milford Mike and Walter Gretzky are known in all age demographics. My children, who are 9 and 10 could identify both, as could my grandparents, who are 89 and 84. -- Kelly Szczur I just know this. My daughter asked who he was and I said, that's Mike, he's kind of a celebrity," and he said, "yup yup I'm a celebrity," and proceeded to pretend to start his bike up like a motorcycle ,"gotta kick it into gear," at Dairee Delite one night. There's something about him that brings us all together. He compliments everyone's shoes, he says hi to everyone, he's always got a smile and really, he's funny. What more could we want? -- Sarah McClelland We are so used to not engaging with the people around us in our society that when someone goes out of their way to greet you it is off-putting, and really great at the same time. Its the power of "hey how you doing. The fact that Mike has a handicap allows him access to places that

normally would not be socially acceptable to go. And it works because deep down we all crave human contact, but normally we would be suspicious of a stranger talking to us or our children but in Mike's case he has the ability to break down those walls because of his genuine cheerfulness. -- Martin Chiarot I think Mike is loved because hes in your life first. Mike makes the first move. There are stories of Mike simply walking into the backyard barbeques of complete strangers and grabbing a burger off the grill with a simple, How ya doin? How ya been? as his ticket to the party. And hes welcomed and embraced. Mike in many ways is a personification of a powerful principle. John, one of Jesuss best friends, described the amazing act of Christs socially disruptive, revolutionary and historically pure love this way: The word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood. John 1:14 (The Message) A written conceptual principal coming to life. I think we rally around Mike, because we crave the knowledge that someone cares enough to, move into our neighborhood, and invite us to a barbeque and ask how we are. Mike is a very ordinary, yet absolutely EXTRAORDINARY man who makes Brantford a better place through his kindness. And what Mike does, you can do too.

YOUR ONTARIO PC CANDIDATE FOR BRANT

VISION VISIONEXPERIENCE

Authorized by the CFO for the Brant PC Association.

June 2013

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Page 5

Define me by my Ability, not my Disability

by Robert Hampson
My name is Robert Hampson, and I am a student at the W. Ross Macdonald School. Since February, I have had the privilege of being a co-op student at Brant United Way. This is the story of how I started to do volunteer work. Sometimes, something very small can change a life forever. For me, it was a swim across a very small lake at summer camp. Let me start at the beginning. Shortly after my fourth birthday I found out that I had a brain tumour. The doctors told me that I needed surgery to take it out. That surgery left me blind. I was only four years old, so I didn't really understand what that meant. I wondered why the sun didnt come up. I wondered why the lights wouldnt turn on. I went into different rooms. I went outside. I just couldn't understand why it was dark all of the time. five years in chemotherapy. During the time I was in treatment, my friend Jennie told me about how she collected pop can tabs for wheelchairs. This seemed like such an amazing thing to me. I couldn't quite figure out how the factory was going to make a wheelchair out of pop can tabs, especially the tires and the seat, but it sounded like a good idea to my 5 year old mind. I decided that I was going to get a wheelchair. A garbage bag full of tabs should do it. I could do that. I started collecting. When I joined Variety Village, I became friends with people who used wheelchairs. The way I saw it, my legs and arms worked perfectly. I had no pain and I could easily walk around. I had everything I needed but it bothered me that there were kids out there who didn't. I decided that I was going to get a wheelchair. By the time I was eleven, none of the organizations I had donated my tabs to had bought a wheelchair. Then someone told me that making a wheelchair from tabs was an urban myth. He said that it had never actually been done before and that it was probably impossible. It was my coach at Variety Village who helped me to realize that I didn't need to give my tabs to other people. I could be the person who the tabs were given to, and I could be the one who bought the wheelchair. Well, it didn't take a garbage bag full. It took 60 bags full of millions of tabs. And do you know what else? They don't melt them down and turn them into a wheelchair. I take the tabs to a metal recycler. We negotiate a price and then he weighs them. I get paid, in cash, for the tabs. On October 3, 2005 with help from the President's Choice Children's Charity and Joe's No Frills, a 5 year old boy named Ricardo received a wheelchair bought with pop can tabs. After 8 years of collecting I had finally reached my goal, and Ricardo had a wheelchair to take to school. But it didn't stop there. Next, they set up the Robert Hampson Tabs for Kids Fund as part of the President's Choice Children's Charity. So far, we have bought 5 wheelchairs, a lift for an accessible van, equipment for an accessible bathroom, an adapted stroller and a walker. So you see, that one swim across the lake at camp seemed so small at the time, but it changed everything for me. A pop can tab also seems like a very small thing, but even it can change a life too.

Terry Fox said, "you define people by their ability and not their disability." I think that if you want to do something badly enough you can find a way. These days, nothing stops me from going places.
After I came home, I had to learn how to do everything without sight: walk around without bumping into things, get dressed, brush my teeth, eat, read and write and use a computer. I'm sure that when you go home tonight you will think of many more things you do every day that would be different if you had a blindfold on. Eating a spaghetti dinner could be interesting and a little messy. While I was learning how to do all this I bumped, crashed and ran into lots of things including brick walls, metal poles, doors and trees. I fell down stairs, tripped over curbs and walked off the end of the dock at least three times. Wow, is that water ever cold when the ice has just come off the lake. But, I never gave up. Terry Fox said, "you define people by their ability and not their disability." I think that if you want to do something badly enough you can find a way. These days, nothing stops me from going places. It was during the summer I was eight years old that one single swim changed my life forever. I had made it my goal to swim 2km across the lake at camp. I wasn't much of a swimmer, so I had to wear a lifejacket. The swim took me more than two and a half hours, and when I finally got out I was really dizzy and could hardly stand up. But it was worth it! It was the accomplishment I was most proud of all summer. I told everyone. Marathon swimmer Vicki Keith heard my story and invited me to swim on her team. She had a swim team for both able-bodied and disabled swimmers at Variety Village in Toronto. My first day on the swim team was one of the best days of my life! I couldn't believe it! They were all calling out to have me on their relay team. Vicki was fun and had a great sense of humour. I liked the way she treated us all with such respect. This was one of the first times in my life that I had found a place where it didn't matter if I was blind. I am in my thirteenth year on the team. I have received gold, silver and bronze medals in three Ontario Paralympic Winter Championships. Wow, were those fun! All of the 350 athletes had some sort of physical disability. Now I had true competition. In 2009, I went to my first Can Am Para Swimming Championships. This was the first time that I had ever raced against Paralympians. Like me, five of them were completely blind. Last year, I went to the Olympic/Paralympic trials. After joining the swim team, I really started to enjoy sports. Now I downhill ski all winter long. Someone goes behind me and says right, left, right, left, tree, hill, woops sorry, cliff! It really works best if my guide remembers to tell me when to get off the lift so I don't go around the loop and back down to the bottom again. That's happened to me twice. Rock climbing is another thing that I love to do. Guess what? No fear of heights. The ground doesnt look that far away to me. Another one of my favorite activities is water skiing. I also know how to scuba dive, and in the summer I go sailing. When I want to go for a bike ride I use a tandem cycle. But my favourite thing of all was going 13,500 feet into the air and jumping out of a plane. You guessed it, skydiving. That sounds like quite a story doesn't it? But there is a story behind my story. I have spent more than 11 years in cancer treatment. In my lifetime, I have had about 3,000 needles, 45,000 pills, 90 scans, 10 operations, 10 trips to the emergency room, 6 weeks of radiation and more than

I have spent more than 11 years in cancer treatment. In my lifetime, I have had about 3,000 needles, 45,000 pills, 90 scans, 10 operations, 10 trips to the emergency room, 6 weeks of radiation and more than 5 years in chemotherapy.

Why Not, the KKK & Captain Kindness?

by Brian Beattie, Facebook: Brian Beattie
This month I want to advocate on behalf of evangelical Christians. In the last few months, evangelicals have taken significant hits both in Canada and the U.S. In February, one of the Federal political leaders in our country called evangelical Christians "un-Canadian. In April, the U.S. Defence Department classified evangelicals as an "extremist" religious group, alongside Al Quaeda and the Ku Klux Klan, says the Washington Times. For the record, I'm not really a fan of labels, but because of the aforementioned statements I thought some definitions and context would be important here. I will define a Christian as a follower or disciple of Christ, and an evangelical as one who believes that the gospel of the death and resurrection of Jesus is important for everyone to hear. (The term evangelical comes from the Greek word euangelion, meaning the good news, or the gospel.) Historian David Bebbington provides a summary of evangelical distinctive, identifying four main characteristics of evangelicalism. First, conversionism: the belief that lives need to be transformed through a "born again" (John: 3) experience and a lifelong process of following Jesus. Second, activism: the expression and demonstration of the gospel in mission and social reform efforts. Third, biblicism: a high regard for, and obedience to the Bible. Fourth, crucicentrism: a stress on the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the cross as making possible the redemption of humanity. By these definitions I am a Christian. I am an evangelical Christian. Furthermore, I am the Chairman of the Evangelical Association of Churches in Brantford known as ONE Church. So, you could possibly see my challenge in the recent statements from high ranking people in Canada and the United States that we are "un-Canadian" and "extremist. I took this a few steps further and made the same vow for my family, my friends and my city "to get at them, you have to come through me first. Admittedly, Christians have done some bone-head moves in the past that deserve any onlookers scorn. And, if you have been burned by the church because of how we have carried the Good News in a bad way, I will be the first to apologize. On the other hand, I am also growing weary of critics of the church who try to throw us all under the bus because of a few real extremists like the Westboro Baptist Church (google it if you need to). With this said, I choose to take my remaining few paragraphs to unapologetically applaud a few of my evangelical friends in Brantford. Charlie and Sue Kopczyk are champions in this city. Brantford is better because they are here. About ten years ago, they wanted to serve some of the less fortunate in town so they went and set up a table downtown to give away free hot-chocolate. Not rocket science, I know, but the Kopczyks have turned this simple act of service into what is now known as Why Not City Missions. Why Not, now has five active youth centres in Brantford and Brant County. Ralph Byma and his wife Debbie are the Pastors at Grand Valley Christian Centre. For years they have been burdened for the less fortunate in the area, and because of this have established feeding programs, food drives and social activities for many in our community. Dave Carrol (aka Captain Kindness) leads an ever growing army in our city to engage in intentional acts of kindness as we see our community changing, "by good into good." The Kindness Project is quickly becoming one of the game changers in our community that is getting recognition both locally and in other cities as well. Charlie, Ralph and Dave are all part of the Evangelical group we call ONE Church. I am proud to call these men my friends and members of a growing evangelical group of churches, ministries and individuals that are working together to see positive transformation that affects every sphere of our city. Are they un-Canadian, or extremists? Hardly. In need of me to defend them? Probably not. However, because of the words of Jesus, I am officially making it public that to get at them (and my other evangelical friends), you have to come through me first. (Ezekiel 22:30) So I sought for a man among them who would make a wall, and stand in the gap before Me on behalf of the land, that I should not destroy it; but I found no one.

I am also growing weary of critics of the church who try to throw us all under the bus because of a few real extremists like the Westboro Baptist Church
To further complicate my life, I have recently agreed to stand with my brothers and sisters (aka - other Christians) because of the command of Jesus to, "love one another as I have loved you." After saying this, and in fact in the same breath Jesus went on to say, "Greater love hath no man than this: that a man lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:12,13). When I dug deeper into this command, I simplified and exemplified it for myself and some fellow "extremists" at Freedom House--my church--to suggest that we should defend each other, similar to becoming a human wall that others could find refuge, security and strength behind. As one of those making this wall our statement of solidarity became, "to get to them, you have to go through me first".

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June 2013

Sewing Table
Written by, L.M VanEvery, Twitter: @LMVJournalist, Lorrie Gallant, Twitter: @LorrieGallant
What are we supposed to sew today? Were supposed to mend the table cloths and then start a new quilt. I love making quilts because its the only thing here that reminds me of home. Look at this little piece of material with the strawberries on it. It reminds me of the wild strawberries we use to pick every June. I can smell them now. Shh. Were not supposed to talk about home. Hurry Blanche, finish your writing underneath the table before someone sees us. How did the writings underneath the sewing table go unnoticed by the residential school authorities? Names, numbers, dates and hidden messages tell the story of the children who sat around this table and were made to work during their years at the Mush Hole. For these children whose identities were ripped from them when they entered the doors of the Mush Hole, the messages they scribbled underneath this table represent their desperate attempt to say, I matter. I was here.

Why the Advocate?

By Lucas Duguid, Twitter: @sophiasbakery
I wrote an editorial in the October 2012 edition titled: Why the Advocate? If you ask Marc, Leisha or myself what motivates us the answers may differ on the surface but the basic thread remains common. Community. A stalwart and unwavering commitment to our home. As part of my editorial I included an advocacy piece. This is an opportunity for our contributers to lend their voice in support of a cause, an event, the efforts of others or in my case an organization. I am an advocate for Woodland Cultural Centre. From my editorial... "I've had the pleasure of working with, and getting to know, the people who work at Woodland. They are a remarkably diverse and fascinating group of very hard working and dedicated people. I've had the privilege of participating in numerous guided walk-throughs of the museum and the residential school. No other region in Canada has a facility with such enormous sums of living indigenous history and culture, and it's right here in our own backyard. I encourage each of you to visit the museum, make a donation and take the tour. Most importantly, I encourage you to listen. Really listen and absorb what Woodland is about. You won't learn it all in one visit. I've been through six times in the last 18 months and I'm still only now just scratching the surface of what Woodland Cultural Centre has to offer." It's no secret that Woodland, formerly the Mohawk Institute, has a past that can easily be described as horrific. Just over two years ago my Aunt Lorrie, the Education Extensions Officer at Woodland, took me through the residential school. When we reached the library she said to me, "You see that big table over there? Go underneath, lay on your back and look up." I wasn't prepared for what I saw. I don't have the words to describe what it felt like the first time I saw beneath the table. On behalf of the Advocate I would like to offer my sincerest thanks to Janis Monture and the remarkable team at Woodland Cultural Centre for trusting us with this content. We are honoured.

The sewing table was located in the girls side of the Mohawk Institute, and currently resides in the library of the Woodland Cultural Centre. Scribbled underneath the table are the names and numbers given to the students by the institution. An unforgotten remnant of the young children who lived here.
~ Ivan Bomberry, Cultural Interpreter.

June 2013

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Page 7

Showcasing Local Talent

by Steve Boyd Email: steveboydillustration@gmail.com
For some reason or another, images have always appealed to me. From the time I was four or five years old, the act of drawing was one of those things that sent tiny little lightning bolts through my brain, and could hold my attention for an hour or two. Which was, and still is a long time for me. I remember coming home from kindergarten and spending my time creating my own comic series, which I cleverly named Strong Guy after the most important trait a hero must have. These stories were basically an amalgamation of my own storytelling and direct copies of the cartoons I was watching on television at the time like Doug, Alvin and the Chipmunks, and Darkwing Duck. A five year old needs his inspiration from somewhere it seems. This ultimately lead me to be one of those kids in school who were always asked difficult questions like How do you draw a ladybug?or given demands such as Draw me a car! by fellow students. You know the type Im sure. Even though I enjoyed it and was praised for it, I never really took drawing or art seriously, and the time I spent doing it was slowly but surely dwindling. It is something that happens to a lot of us. For some reason we begin to leave art out of our lives and put in its place more practical thingslike being a teenageror math? I dont know. But it wasnt until about grade ten attending Pauline Johnson Collegiate, being taught by the likes of local artists such as Dave McCreary and Robert Creighton that the lightning bolts began to return, and the idea of pursuing it in some sort of post secondary form started to become more realistic to me. My family had always told me about Sheridan College. My father had attended the school when he was my age, and my uncle -a cartoonist- had raved about its renowned arts programs so I decided I would attend. I first enrolled in the art fundamentals program and then the BAA Illustration program the next year. Going to school for something like illustration may seem silly and impractical to some, but I have to say doing so has been one of the most difficult and rewarding experiences of my life. Solving visual problems by slowly developing my own artistic language is a task both daunting and exciting and I look forward to watching it change and develop.

THE GLOBAL SAVAGES GE

would like to meet you in Brantford June 3-6 2013
www.theglobalsavages.com s.com

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June 2013

Remove the Taboo!

by Markus McDaniel, www.schnippits.wordpress.com
Youre driving down the road and you see a man and a woman strolling by with their arms locked together. Your mom comments, Oh, what a lovely couple. Arent they cute? You agree and keep driving. Further down the road, you clearly see a woman holding hands with another woman. Your mom comments, Did you see that?! I think those were two women! From there, she could continue to say how wrong it is, or how scandalous they are or how they should keep their affections private. Ideally, Id like to live in a world where seeing same-sex relationships wont trigger uproar and judgemental gossip. Itd be nice if her initial reaction was something like: Arent they a cute couple too? I guess all the cute couples are out today. Ooh, and I want to steal her hairstyle! If hetero couples can freely hold hands or share quick kisses in public-- undisturbed--so should any other couple. talking about it, of course! The more things are understood and shared, the more we can relate and appreciate them. Society is afraid of the unknown, so lets make it known. Granted, those living in more liberal and diverse regions may not have this taboo to worry about, but for the rest of us, theres still a long way to go. Many doctors and scientists have come up with scales and tests and charts to try to make sexual orientations into quantifiable statistics. One scale I like is the Kinsey Scale. Its rather basic and simple to read, yet it shows the average Joe that not everyone is completely straight or completely queer. There are several degrees in between the two polarities. Heres a quick look at the scale: For me, I want to live in a world where we arent criticized by our partners sex. Its not cool when you want to hold hands and it triggers glares, stares, gawking and pointing. Everyone should be free to love whoever they want, whether it be the oppositesex, same-sex or trans-sex. Not only would it be nice to remove the negative attention same-sex couples can sometimes receive, but establishing a sense of normalcy is essential, too. My extended family members know that Im out of the closet and have a boyfriend, but more often than not they tend to avoid the subject. Over dinner during a family gathering, my uncle did try to strike up some conversation. He asked me how my friend was doing. I drew a blank as I started to recollect which friend he might have mentioned. Was it Ashley, Anne, Hank, Jerry maybe Agnes, or Benji wait, was there one who had a life crisis recently--and then I clue in. Oh! You mean my boyfriend? Yeah hes doing well. Its a pet peeve of mine to have my significant other be referred to as simply a friend. Hes more than that; hes my lover and confidant. And when the time comes, I sure plan on calling him my husband. To me, this type of avoidance doesnt cure anything. By not talking about the unfamiliar and not addressing things as they are, it furthers the rift. I know I previously mentioned that personal relationship dynamics are no ones business, but outright evasion is just as bad. There needs to be a balance of positive and casual acknowledgement. Just as I would casually ask about your partner, Id hope remarks about my boyfriend wouldnt stir surprise or avoidance. If theres anything I want you to take away from this, its for you to recognize the vast amount of sexual compositions people can have. As well, to show them the respect that you would wish in return. They say we learn something new every day, so dont be afraid to inquire about and explore topics you dont fully comprehend. Friends always ask me questions, whether it be my personal opinions on matters or as a participant of the gay scene. Im happy to answer their curiosities and provide them with new ideas or ways of thinking. Its my way of spreading knowledge and understanding. After all, as a child, the fear of parental rejection is a strong deterrent for sharing inquisitive thoughts. If I had children, Id want to make sure theyd be comfortable opening up to me and sharing their feelings, rather than have them bottle up their emotions or turn to unreliable sources. I hope youd want the same for your kids. So I encourage you: remove the taboo. Lets build a friendlier place for new generations.

The Role of the Healthcare Professional in the context of Personal Injury Litigation
In this month's issue I will address the role of the health care professional in the context of personal injury litigation. Increasingly personal injury litigation on both the accident benefit side (your claim against your own insurer) and the tort side (the claim against the at fault driver) revolves around the "independent" assessments done by doctors and other health care professionals hired by both the insurer and the claimant. On the accident benefit side of the file insurer examinations are warranted whenever the insurer denies a treatment plan to determine if the treatment is reasonable and necessary. The primary purpose of the insurance examinations at this juncture is to provide claims' examiners with a basis for their decision making i.e. to protect them against claims for bad faith. The cost of these examinations are paid for by the insurer and the cost of these examinations represent a significant expense to insurers which is of course reflected in premiums paid by consumers. On behalf of the claimant treatment providers routinely complete assessments which provide the basis for the treatment plans they generate on behalf of the claimant. On September 1, 2010 amendments were made to the Insurance Act which included significant changes to the fees that could be charged by assessors hired by both the claimants and the insurers. There was a cap placed on fees that the assessors could charge the insurers and the payment structure was changed to provide that insurers only had to pay for assessments they commissioned. Costs associated with assessments by the claimant's assessors or treatment providers are now paid for out of the $50,000.00 total allotted for medical rehabilitation benefits to the claimant. On the tort side experts are used extensively by both the Plaintiff and the Defendant at trial in an effort to persuade the jury of the merits of their respective positions. Over time the role of the expert at trial has become critically important and the costs associated with their extensive involvement in the litigation process have become prohibitive and created a significant access to justice barrier faced by ordinary citizens. Hence the legitimization of contingency arrangements between counsel and their clients and the ever increasing risk to litigants imposed by significant cost awards in a loser pay system where there is no even playing field. I recall being at a civil jury trial a number of years ago when the Judge invited counsel to make a motion to strike the jury because the expert testimony was too complicated for the jurors to understand. This case involved the suitability of a septic system that had been installed on my client's property and approved by the Health Unit but failed to work due to soil being very impermeable as it was a clay based soil. I will never forget the wonderment of my own client who said "If the jury cannot understand why our septic system isn't working how are we as the homeowners in any different position?" My point being that if we are talking about a simple car accident and resultant injuries why are so many experts necessary? With consumers demanding competitive pricing for premiums insurers will be demanding further concessions when the insurance regime is reviewed in 2015 hopefully the role of the expert will be limited by necessity. Amendments were made recently to the Rules of Civil Procedure to ensure the independence of expert evidence and to re-affirm their primary role as an advisor to the court or jury, to assist in understanding issues of unusual complexity. It is difficult to see how someone with a sore neck or back from being rear ended unexpectedly by another a car driving at a high rate of speed would be an issue that would require the assistance and/or expense of experts. This takes us back to basics - in personal injury litigation the most important medical witness should be the claimant's primary family physician who in all likelihood has been treating the patient for a significant period of time prior to the collision and in the best position to assess and treat the claimant post motor vehicle collision. Further the family physician is an appropriate person to comment on whether the patient/claimant should be treated within the framework of the Minor Injury Guideline. Fortunately, the shortage of primary care physicians seems to be alleviated in this area as our clients are served best if they have a competent family physician who can get in on the ground level. We always recommend to our clients that if they do not feel that their current family physician is serving their needs adequately they should try to find a new family physician at their earliest opportunity.
Lisa Morell Kelly Morell Kelly Personal Injury Law 515 Park Road North Brantford, Ontario N3R 7K8 (519) 720-0110

As with everything in life, there are various shades of grey, and human sexuality is no exception. When discussing our sexuality, there are many aspects to take into consideration such as: physical attraction, romantic interest, gender identity, biological sex, personality, orientation, etc. So to try to cram people into cookie cutters and slap labels on them isnt necessarily fair. Its easier, yes, but dont assume you automatically know someones orientation when they, for example, identify as being gay. Ive encountered a number of straight males who are reluctant to join my friends and I at the gay bars for fear of being hit on by another guy. Its a common misconception that gay men chase after any man they see. Firstly, Id like to say I am not afraid to go to straight bars for fear of being hit on by girls. If it happens, I just tell it like it is and send them on their way. Turning the tables, I ask my friends what their preferences are when searching for a girl. Do they prefer brunettes over blondes? Do they like skinny and tall women, or short and busty? Do they opt for bigger girls with confidence, or muscular ones with insecurities? As they reveal their sexual inclinations, they learn that they obviously dont find every woman they see to be attractive. Then I tell my friends, Surprise! The same goes for gay men. Occasionally, I want to add that they shouldnt be too worried, they couldnt attract one if they tried, but then thats just mean. Like I said, dont assume someones tendencies when you dont know them. How can we go about removing this taboo regarding all of the different colours sexuality has? How can we make people realize there are more variations than the typical boy meets girl? By 0 Exclusively heterosexual behaviour 1 Predominantly heterosexual, only incidentally homosexual 2 Predominantly heterosexual, but more than incidentally homosexual 3 Equal heterosexual and homosexual behaviour 4 Predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual 5 Predominantly homosexual, only incidentally heterosexual 6 Exclusively homosexual behaviour X Asexual/Non-sexual See? Its really basic. However, it does help explain the different levels of sexual attractions when it comes to bisexuality. No, it doesnt delve into the complexities of which traits of which sex you like over the other and why; thats for your own personal discovery. It merely demonstrates that it is not just one or the other. For arguments sake, your neighbour could fall under number two, and his wife could be a three. For all you knew, they were a regular heterosexual couple, but that isnt always the case. Regardless of the scale, the details of their sexual orientation and the dynamics of their relationship isnt really your business. As long as theyre happy with each other, thats all that matters.

My Brown Pants
by Reverend Jonathan Massimi, Twitter: @RevMass
Stop me if youve heard this joke before. Im not sure if Im telling it right, but Ill give it a shot: There once was a ship loaded with treasure heading back to port. They were days away from home when in the distance they spotted a pirates ship. "Captain, captain, what do we do?" asked the first mate. "First mate," said the Captain,"go to my cabin, open my sea chest, and bring me my red shirt." The first mate did as the Captain asked and swiftly brought the Captain his red shirt. Wearing his bright red shirt the Captain urged his crew to fight. So inspiring was he, in fact, that the crew was able to ward off the pirates without a casualty. A few days later, the ship was again approached, this time by two pirate ships. "Captain, captain, what should we do?" The Captain r e sponded: "First mate, bring me my red shirt!" The crew, inspired by their fearless captain, fought heroically, and managed to defeat both boarding parties. That night the crew had a great celebration. The first mate asked the captain the secret of his bright red shirt. It's simple, said the Captain, if I am wounded the blood does not show and the crew continues to fight without fear." A week passed and they were nearing their home port when suddenly the lookout cried that ten pirate ships were approaching. "Captain, captain we're in terrible trouble, what do we do?" said the first mate. Pale with fear, the captain commanded, "First mate, bring me my brown pants!" I must confess that in my life there are many time I have reached for my brown pants. Fear is a part of our human existence. It has been said that fear is a motivator. It can also be paralyzing. Have you ever been around someone who is scared of spiders and spots one? Fear can cause us to make irrational decisions. Fear, and this is what disturbs me most, can go beyond the confines of our inner world and translate into actions that inflict harm on others either by word or deed. We fear that which is unknown. I believe that when the unknown becomes known, when the stranger becomes friend, then fear is disarmed and can no longer be a motivator. When hearts are shared, when we are open and vulnerable with one another, it is there where love grows. Love casts out fear... I think the Bible says that somewhere. The Greek word for fear is phobos where we get the word phobia. There are many phobias: Ablutophobia-- fear of bathing; Chaetophobia-- fear of hair. That can be a new excuse for my bald buddies, Hey man my scalp has Chaetophobia. There are those who fear everything, this is known as Panphobia. Then theres Homophobia--fear of homosexuals or of homosexual relationships. It is this last phobia that I have been giving some thought to in the last couple of weeks. Especially since our church decided to sponsor the antihomophobia rally taking place later this month. I sat with the word homophobia and decided to bring it down to its Greek roots homos, meaning same, and phobos, as mentioned, meaning fear. So then, homos - phobos is fear of the same. Then I asked, why is it that we emphasize the fear phobos? For it is fear that blinds us to the same-ness. We lose sight of the fact that we are inhabitants of the same planet. Members of the same family--brothers and sisters in a common humanity. Yet, we treat each other like estranged siblings. Ill return to what I said in the beginning, ...when the stranger becomes friend, then fear is disarmed. The words of Henri Nouwen inspired this thought, he once said, This is our vocation: To convert the enemy into a guest and to create the free and fearless space where brotherhood and sisterhood can be formed and fully experienced. I firmly believe that we need more of these free and fearless spaces. For this reason Counterpoint congregation is conducting an experiment in social change. We are testing the following claim: that a new and better world starts with one table. Every week we invite people to come sing, talk religion and eat. We open our table to others, inviting the stranger to come and eat in the hope that the stranger becomes friend, and together, beginning with a potluck meal, a new reality is made possible. I would like to end this article with a challenge. I challenge all who are reading this to disarm fear. Sit, eat, talk, share, and leave the labels at the door. Invite the other to be a guest. When this is done, I believe that we will begin to see the other as the same, the same that should not be feared but loved. Love seeks not itself to please, nor for itself hath any care, but for another gives it ease, and builds a heaven in hells despair. ~ William Blake. For more information on Counterpoints Sunday services, you can find them on Facebook: Counterpoint Church

We fear that which is unknown. I believe that when the unknown becomes known, when the stranger becomes friend, then fear is disarmed and can no longer be a motivator.

June 2013

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The Eric Nagler Story

by Cody W. Groat, Facebook: Cody W. Groat
Brooklyn, New York, 1942. The United States of America were becoming more and more involved in WWII, the strain felt on families around the nation. Yet, in this time of destruction and propaganda there were also some good things happening, such as the birth of young Eric Nagler, on June, 1. With his father a high school biology teacher, he was spared from the draft and having to be directly involved with the conflict in Europe, but that wasn't the same for the rest of his family. Coming from Jewish heritage, and being Jewish himself, Eric recalled how those from his family who came to America before the war were saved, while the rest just disappeared, never to be heard from again. This was only the start of growing up in what Eric called the shadow of the war. He would hear the stories his uncles told from their time overseas and would come home from public school with McCarthy hearings on air, a very different childhood from the ones of youth who would later come home from daycare to watch Eric on their own televisions. It wasn't even until about when he was seven years old that the first television came to his neighbourhood. A nice seven inch model (with accompanying magnifying glass to make it nine inches) upon which they would watch Pinhead and Houdini, or sometimes Howdy Doody. But television was never a big memory for Eric, back then, it was all outdoors. When Fall came around neighbour Billy Smith (biggest kid, best skates) would come out with the chalk and roll down the street marking a path for their cops and robbers roller skate track. From there, Spring and Summer held the times of ball games, of which Eric could easily list off twenty or more to this day that they would regularly play. Those memories of activity were seen in school as well, where Eric recalls being second baseman, yet outside of school Eric would start to find music. It all started with the piano. There was one in the house that he would bang on as a child. His father would tell him to stop that racket, but his grandma would issue requests for such songs as The Tennessee Waltz. For these requests, he would simply bang a little softer, yet his grandma would tell him how beautiful this sounded. Encouraging Eric's first musical dream--learn piano. His parents paid for him to have lessons, which didn't go so well. After three months of lesson, he was done with piano for good. Shortly after this, he heard the sound of the saxophone at a friends house, and had the new dream to learn that. When he excitedly told his mom, she said he couldn't. After all, it wasn't a valid instrument in the orchestra. She told him to instead learn clarinet, a real instrument. So they bought him one, he had some lessons and hated that too. Then came the bass. Eric remembers hearing Charles Mingus playing the, Haitian Pipe Song, it was at that moment that he knew he wanted to be a bassist. He was excited to tell his parents. But, then his mom told him that, the bassist sat in the back of the orchestra and only played one note, she said Eric should really be learning the cello. One night Eric's father brought one back from the high school where he taught, Eric was so tired of the same routine that he didn't even bother coming home that night. The cello was returned to the school untouched. One night, while reading comics instead of doing homework, he heard a noise coming from downstairs. It was something he had never heard, an instrument his older brothers friend was playing. Scruggs Style bluegrass banjo music. Finally, Eric had found the instrument and the noise he had been looking for his whole childhood. Ever since, the banjo has been his instrument of choice. It was music that he wanted to pursue, but his parents, conned him into university, saying he could do anything he wanted as long as he got a degree. So, off to university Eric went. Here, he received a degree in psychology. From there, he received another degree in educational psychology. It was partway through his doctorate in psychology that Eric realized, as he put it, this was bullshit. A psychology degree wasn't going to make him a musician, his parents just wanted him to go into something different than banjo music. It was at that point that Eric left formal education for good. Instead, partially before and partially after then, he became a hippie. After all, it was the sixties. Eric had no idea where to find people playing music like he was playing, the music he had come to love. One day though, his brother told him about a New York City neighbourhood on the west side of Lower Manhattan called Greenwich Village where he heard that people gathered on Sundays and played the same type of music as Eric had. From then on, he joined this group of people like him, and they would all play at Washington Square fountain in Greenwich village. They were referred to as beats back then, beatniks after the Russian Sputnik satellite was in the news. In those days, no one really, wrote songs, so they could all just play music and communicate at levels deeper than words. They would all just know what to do. Unfortunately, one of the group did start writing songs. After those days it was more, sit and listen, to someone perform, then another person would perform. To this day, he still hasn't really forgiven Bob Dylan for doing that to them. I had then asked Eric what it meant where on his website it said he, managed to avoid getting my head bashed in by truncheons when the cops attacked us in Washington Square for singing without a license. Really, I was interested in knowing the story and what, singing without a license, even meant. Upon bringing it up, Eric started laughing saying how it, really was a funny story. Yet, this was followed by two elderly ladies from Martin Luther King's church who walked up to him and expressed how they were, so glad to have him here, trying to help us integrate. Comments similar to those ladies kept Eric walking, standing for what was right. As they got near Jackson, Mississippi, the crowd numbers slowly started to swell. They were walking down the streets, singing and clapping when from beside the road Eric heard an elderly, female voice yelling, praise the lord, excitedly from her front yard. With the feeling of power the crowd was giving him, he yelled at her to join him to the Senate buildings where they were heading. After about twenty yards of walking with him, another girl came onto the yard and starting yelling ,how dare he take her to the buildings, he had no idea what could happen there. With that, the elderly lady reluctantly went back, and Eric moved on. By the time they reached the Senate, Eric guessed the crowd to around 15,000. be Seemingly, they all passed through a wall of silence. No one was talking. Surrounding the building were armed, white, policemen. Not far behind the police were officers in full riot gear, and closer to the buildings were soldiers with snipers. Beside the police, glaring at them, one for each officer, were African American men in white tee-shirts and overalls. Eric realized he recognized the man in overalls nearest him, it was the man who a few days earlier told him he wasn't wanted. Eric also noticed the reason why the officer seemed especially afraid, the African American man had his teeth filed to points, and was glaring up at the officer. The moment was tense, and Eric started to hear people cry in fear. He heard one person start to cry behind him, and turned to see the old lady from the front yard. He didn't blame her, he felt the same way. It was at this point in my interview that it seemed Eric's music store went quiet. It seemed the customers were all listening, Eric started to tear up, and I had to focus to keep myself from doing the same. The speeches started, a few minor people speaking in regards to the idea of black power, people really talking about black power for the first time. Then Martin Luther King stepped up and started the speech that had already became history a year or two before... I have a dream, the speech made in Washington in 1963. Between the tears that were coming to Eric, he told me how Martin, talked about men and women, black and white, being together, working together, boys and girls, black and white, of every colour, being in school together. That was his dream. when he was done someone about five thousand people away started singing. More people joined that man. Then behind him, another voice started singing in counterpoint to the man, making a round with the crowd. It was the old woman from the front lawn who came to join Eric. That moment gave Eric a strength that he still has with him. Her voice still heard in all its power to this day. As hard as you listened, the singing had drowned out everyone there to jeer. Eric's life had been changed. After doing some research, I now know that the man who Eric first heard about who was shot must of been James Meredith, who was actually only wounded I've now learned. The march that Eric must of been a part of is titled The March Against Fear, started by one but finished by 15,000. Martin Luther King jr. would eventually be assassinated in a hotel located in Memphis, Tennessee. But the young boy who went from watching Houdini on television, to playing cops and robbers in the street with Billy Smith, to having his heart stolen by the magic of the banjo, to being charged at by police in New York and singing with Martin himself in Mississippi, he would continue on in his incredible life... TO BE CONTINUED

A Simple Heart Attack

It all seems to be a normal Date Night Friday, the kids are having a sleep over with their grandparents, the dinner and movie venue are selected. All that needs to be done are some housekeeping items at the office. Thats when the call is received Your father has had a heart attack! Shock, denial, panic, silence You are making decisions quickly but the easiest one is to grab some overnight clothes and jump in the car and hit the highway. The fear of not knowing fully whats going on shoots through your body every minute. An inadvertent call to his cell phone ends in relief as a nurse picks up and confirms the heart attack and that hes going through surgery to remove the blockage. Relief that hes in the best hands possible slows the car down to normal highway speeds and 3 hours later you arrive at the hospital. You dont care about the parking rate or even where you will eat or sleep the night. Your main focus is making sure your father is going to be ok. Its a rather emotional thing seeing your hero lying on a hospital bed with enough wires and tubes hanging out of him to power a city block. Even though the surgery was a success, the blockage was removed, the long recovery process begins. I call it a Simple Heart Attack because for all intents and purposes, the survival rate for heart attack victims is in the 90% range if the problem is caught early enough. Youre through surgery in less than 2 hours and in many cases are sent home next day. This isnt so if youre out of town and need to be kept for observation and cleared before travelling. You start adding up the cost of the weekend; Hotel room for 3 nights, 3 days worth of parking and 3 days of dining. The tally just for the weekend is around $2,000. What about the recovery period and the cost of the medications and treatments not covered by OHIP? How about the month of recommended time off work? Where does this money come from? Savings? Credit? These expenses can escalate very quickly into the tens of thousands of dollars all for a now Not So Simple heart attack. In 1983, Critical illness insurance was created by a South African surgeon named Dr Marius Barnard. Dr Barnard was finding that the cost of recovery was actually causing more stresses in his patients than the surgeries he preformed. His patients were taking longer to get better and in some cases dying as they were forced to return to work before their bodies had fully recovered. Critical Illness insurance provides a lump sum of money should you suffer from one of the covered conditions. Most companies have 20+ covered illnesses but the reality is that 84% of benefits are paid for Heart Attack, Stroke, Cancer & Coronary Bypass Surgery. What would a lump sum of money provide in the event of a Simple heart attack? You dont need me to answer this for you. Instead I challenge you to think of someone you know who has suffered a Critical Illness. Think of how their financial situation was affected and ask yourself, would $25,000 of Critical Illness Insurance have changed their financial situation? Would it change mine? We feel very strongly that savings and goal planning are areas where professional advice is a necessity. If you wish to talk about your financial goals and how Critical Illness Insurance can help secure them please give us a call, were here to help. Alford & Associates is a family owned and operated financial practice in Brantford. For over 25 years we have helped our clients secure their financial goals. First and foremost we help you secure your greatest asset Your Family

They were referred to as beats back then, beatniks after the Russian Sputnik satellite was in the news.

Every year, one of their large group (a friend of Eric's named Lionel Killburg) would travel to New York City Hall and request a licence, allowing them all to play in the square. Until one year, Town Hall simply said no. After all, they were a bunch of hippies, they were riffraff. This didn't stop the riffraff from playing. The next Sunday, they gathered in Washington Square to sing and play their music. That week, they were greeted by police, who gave a stern warning. So what did the group do? They went the next day as well. So did the police. Instead of playing music, the group all sat in the fountain and didn't make a sound, glaring at the police in complete silence. One of them started singing we shall overcome, and by the time anyone else could join him, the police charged at them with their clubs. With no regard to their victims, the police started bashing in heads and smashing skulls. They then surrounded the fountain, supposedly to protect it from the hippies. I had yet to see what was funny about this. It was then that newscasters came, and a Senator, and local (very wealthy), Fifth Avenue residents. They were all angry. Yet, not at the group of young musicians, but at the police. After being yelled at for not allowing people to sing, the police were pretty embarrassed, as was the politician who first said they couldn't, next weekend, the group was back singing and playing music. Now I can see some humour! It was a while after this that Eric was visiting at a friends house when his friends sister walked in. She had heard that a man who had been doing a voter registration march in Mississippi had been shot, and that Martin Luther King Jr. would be continuing the march with some members of his church and those in the local community, around Canton, Mississippi. Eric was asked if he had wanted to join, and he said sure. Although Eric was never what he would call an, advocate for equality rights, he knew the difference between right and wrong, and he knew that how America was treating his fellow citizens was for sure wrong. After about twenty-four hours of driving (they had to stop in Memphis, someone they knew wanted to try their luck as a country singer), they made it to Mississippi and the voter registration march. They had marched for a few days, the crowds size averaging around fifty people, but growing near towns and cities. Eric being there had garnered mixed reactions. He recalls how one man walked up to him and stated how, we don't want you white northerner bastards here, we want our own nation, not integration.

Grandmas Apron
by Mary M. Cushnie-Mansour, www.marymcushniemansour.ca
Alexis turned onto the walkway that led up to her grandmas house. She opened the front door. The hinges creaked with age. Grandma! The furniture looked unusually dusty. In the kitchen dear. Her grandma was sitting in an old rocker by her stove. There was a chair beside her. Sit down dear, I have something for you. Would you mind pouring me a cup of tea firstget yourself a drink, too. Drinks in hand and back in the chair, Alexis asked, Whats up, Grandma? Her grandma placed a package on Alexis lap. Open it, love. Alexis opened the package and felt a twinge of disappointment when all she saw was her grandmas tattered old apron. The elderly woman sensed her granddaughters disappointment. That apron belonged to my mother. Even worse than I imagined, Alexis thought. It will be easier to tell its story if you put the apron on dear. Alexis humoured her grandmother. The story began the moment she tied the bow My mother made this apron from a piece of cotton her mother gave her. She was told an apron would be one of her most valuable tools in life. Oh, I am sure my mother might have laughed, inside, as did I when it was passed to me, and as did your mother when I passed it to her. Unfortunately, with your mothers untimely passing, this legacy has been returned to me to pass on to you. Now, for the story listen carefully, because one day you will pass this on to your child. The original fabric was bright red hard to see now because of all the patchesbut, there is a story for every patch, as well. See this blue tear drop shaped one in the corner? Thats the one that was used to dry my mothers tears, mine and your mothers. Touch it, see if you can feel the tears in the cloth. Alexis was surprised, the patch felt damp. Even dried a few of your tears, dear. Alexis remembered. See this patch? This was from my mothers Sunday go-tomeeting dress. It covered a hole where the material burned through when mother was taking a hot pot from the oven in the wood cook stove. I remember the terrible burn on her hand too. Grandma sipped her tea. In the early mornings, wed go out to the chicken coop; mother would hold the apron; Id gather, and then set the eggs in it. Sometimes, we would have to bundle the hatchlings up in the apron on an extremely cold winter day, before taking them up to the house so that they wouldnt freeze. Grandma began to rambleIn the summer, when the men were in the fields, mother would ring the dinner bell and then wave her apron so they would know she was calling them for a meal, not an emergency. See this patch? It is from an old pair of curtains that used to hang in our sitting room. A piece of kindling ripped a hole there your mother was so shy she used to hide behind my apron whenever we had company... I used to play peek-a-boo with youyou liked this patch the best. Grandma pointed to a piece of white material with red polka-dots. That was one of your mothers Sunday dresses. It covers a hole from a downward pointing squash stem See this one? Grandma pointed to the opposite corner from the teardrop patch. My mother used this one to wipe her brow; one side for sweat and one side for tears, she would say. Grandma finished her cup of tea. The cup rattled as she set it on the saucer. Alexis noticed the pain flirt through the old eyes. Your grandpa was always surprising me with unexpected company. It was a Saturday night, and the house was a mess after a busy week of canning, and he gave me only a half hour notice that he was bringing his boss home for supper. Besides cooking extra food, I gave the furniture a good dusting with the apron. See this pieceit was from grandpas favourite shirtI used that to hide the tear I put in the apron when it got caught on a nail on the side of the buffet as I was dusting that day. Alexis learned how her mother used to pick fruit and carry them in grandmas apron she learned how grandma used to wrap her mom up in the warm apron when she came in from school on cold, rainy days she learned how, one day, a hired hand had ridden one of her great-grandfathers horses too hard and the apron had been used to rub the horse down she learned, most of all that this apron was a valuable piece of her family history. Grandma sat back in her rocker. Her eyes closed. Grandma, before I leave, would you like me to help you up to bed? No child, I just want to sit a bit longer. As Alexis walked home, her tears began to pour. She lifted the teardrop patch to her eyes, and so began the stories of the next generation.

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June 2013

Traditionally in Native cultures storytelling was seen not only as a form of entertainment, but was valued as a means of nurturing and maintaining common cultural teachings and ideals. Storytellers were the database of the villages, holding the knowledge of the people regarding the history, the values, ceremonies and laws. For this reason, storytellers were imperative to ancient life. The importance of the teachings from these stories were, and still are in traditional settings, emphasized and celebrated through the use of various forms of recording including pictographs, wampum belts, engravings on pottery and wooden tools, jewelry, clothing and various forms of embellishment such as tattoos. These various artistic impressions absorbed the stories and beliefs into the foundation of the society and became a natural, flowing part of the way of life. Storytellers would travel from one village to another sharing their stories. They would often carry small items like a stone, a piece of quill or loom work, flint, an etching, a seed or a piece of engraved clay in a small pouch or a small basket. The items would be used to jog their memory when telling stories. Many Native cultures taught that the appropriate time to share these stories was in the winter time when there was snow on the ground, the belief being that the stories, warm you up. The Haudenosaunee, who were called the Five Nations (Mohawk, whose territory is the most eastern of the five nations, Oneida, Onondaga, whose territory is in the centre of the Five Nations territories, Cayuga and Seneca, who live in the most western of the Five Nations territories) by the British and later called the Six Nations. In the early to mid 1700s the Tuscarora joined. This was/is commemorated by a wampum belt of six parallel but slanted blue lines on a white background. The present day Six Nations were also called Iroquois. The origin of this word is an on-going discussion. Some believe that the word Iroquois is the mispronounced word Rotihrohkwayen, which translated means, pipe smoking people. Others argue that the word is either Algonquin or French. In any event, the people who have become known as Iroquois, Six Nations, or originally, Haudenosaunee have passed down many stories. The stories help to explain the roles and responsibilities of the men and women, the children, the animals, the plants and the planets. These stories also include an explanation of the natural 13 moon calendar and the annual events such as hunting seasons, related to the celestial

cycles and outlines issues related to humility, sharing and land-based custodial responsibilities. The stories also create an understanding of some of the traditional symbolism. When Native people still lived in the old lodges there were no furnaces or woodstoves. In the winter time the people would gather around the fire pit in the centre the lodge. The fire pit was an important place in the lodge where many things transpired. During ceremonies, prayers from the family would be sent to the Creator. Important political decisions would be discussed at the fire. It was also where the two elements blended; the men hunted and kept the lodge warm; the women cooked and cared for the family. When there was snow on the ground the people would gather at the fire pit to share knowledge. The fire would crackle as the wood burned, the wind would blow and whistle through the palisade that surrounded the village, by Elizabeth Doxtater the smell of fresh teas, popcorn and maple candy would waft through the air as the stage was set for an evening to receive the teachings from the narrators of the stories. They would have an audience: babies on their cradle boards, the crawling ones, the small children, the older children, the pre-teens, teens and adults to share their knowledge with. From the fire in the pit, the smoke would rise and take everyones thoughts up to let the ancestors know that the people still remember the teachings that were a gift from them. Stories are still shared in a similar way and it is acknowledged that, where the smoke rises, remains a special place. It is the place that helped the ancestors to retain the stories and show veneration for them so that the future generations would remember the same. These stories are peace-centered, promoting the teachings of what is known as the law of peace. For the next several months this column of The Advocate will be dedicated to promoting peace through story sharing. Using a method called syncretism we will blend the old tradition of storytelling with modern print to help foster an understanding. The column, Where the Smoke Rises, will be used to share stories. Next winter when there is snow on the ground, maybe you can share them. At that time you can get a blanket, a cup of tea, maybe some popcorn and get a cozy place, cuddle up with someone you like cuddling up with and get ready to listen. Hopefully youll be close to the place where the smoke rises in your own lodge.

Devotion to the Martial Arts

by David Chapman
During my last karate grading in December 2012, I was asked by Ken Trebilcock, my Sensei, a question. Why do you still devote five to seven hours per week to karate training? I had a mere five minutes to answer this in front of my fellow students, family and guests. I fumbled through somewhat of an answer and though I was successful at my grading I did not feel satisfied with my response. I would like to take this opportunity to write a more in depth and concise reply to that grading day query. I have listed my reasons for continuing my training below. Whether it proves to be insightful, inspirational or just an interesting perspective I hope my words convey to you how important Meibukan Karate and the Brantford Budokan Dojo are to me. Reason One: The one who has gone before. Kyoshi, Ken Trebilcock who has over 45 years of martial arts experience encourages and inspires my training in karate. He provides the knowledge and is the foundation of everything I know about martial arts. Sensei leads by example, expecting more from himself while gently coaxing and shaping his students. The greatest compliment I ever received from Master Meitatsu Yagi, a 10th dan martial artist, was that he could tell my teacher is Sensei Ken by my karate. It is my aspiration to become as skilled, patient and as respected as my Sensei. There is much work to do and if there is any hope of following in his footsteps I must "leave it on the floor," and keep training with dedication. Reason Two: The Dojo Family. Each person in the dojo becomes part of a group who are all striving towards a common goal. This goal forms a bond between Sensei and his students and then student to student. Each person is working on their individual development but is never alone. Students learn to trust their teacher, fellow karate mates and themselves. As the dojo members learn together, they grow together and welcome each student's family and friends. This cohesive group encourages everyone to new heights and has a positive influence. My place as Sempai in the dojo is a tremendous honour to hold. It is a rewarding feeling to lead and assist all the great students in our dojo, their enthusiasm is contagious and uplifting. It is a privilege to be able to train and learn with so many wonderful people. As Sempai, my responsibilities to the dojo and Meibukan family give me the motivation to be at my best and attempt to exemplify the spirit of our art. Reason Three: Love of the Art. Traditional Meibukan Gojyu Karate is an interesting, invigorating and challenging art to learn. It provides the physical, mental and spiritual needs of its practitioners. Learning the hard and then soft aspects of the art take many years of study. It has a traceable lineage and history that we can be proud of. We have a Master who is generous, knowledgeable and accessible to all teachers and students. I am very proud to be part of Meibukan karate and am passionate about my journey towards the unattainable goal of perfection. Reason Four: The Fountain of Youth. A karate-ka who works hard and has consistent training will be able to practice well into their senior years. Dai Sensei was in his nineties and still practicing karate while Master Yagi and Kyoshi Trebilcock are in their sixties. This speaks volumes for the art of Meibukan and it's ability to imbue youthful vitality and health. The physical aspects of karate are obvious but the mental aspect is equally important. A karate-ka's mind is kept sharp with all the details of the kata. The atmosphere of a dojo is full of hard working students and is charged with positive energy that each contributes to and draws upon. Often I look around at others my age and hear them complaining about back/knee problems, being tired and having poor constitution. I know that it is because of my training that I have improved my overall health and that by continuing, I strive to maintain a high level of fitness. Reason Five: "Moving Meditation." Dealing with stress and anxiety through old fashioned sweat and hard work allows a karate-ka to forget worldly woes. Karate is a positive outlet for stress, anxiety and aggression. During a kata, students are practising defending themselves from multiple attackers while trying to perfect techniques. A student must pay attention to a teacher's instructions and there are strict rules of etiquette. As well a student must learn to ignore distractions while still being acutely aware of everything around them. The focus required leaves little room for worries and extraneous thoughts. Students both new and experienced constantly have to maintain concentration. Once a student knows all the moves of a kata they may enter a moving meditative state which is often experienced during a grading. It is when the body is moving without thought and the mind is completely still. Many times during training I have come to the dojo with problems, left them at the door and immersed myself in karate. I always feel better and afterwards it seems like the solution to a problem is obvious. I am a more balanced person because of my training, and if I have missed a few days my wife sends me to the dojo for repair. Reason Six: "Continuing Education." Many people believe that karate training is simply fighting or physical exercise but it is much more. A dojo is a school that is unique and offers a curriculum. Phys-ed/Health: Cardiovascular, isometric and anaerobic exercises are taught. Flexibility, breath control and body conditioning are slowly developed. Karate emphasizes good posture, proper alignment and efficient energy use. Healthy eating and proper hydration are encouraged. Good health, increased energy and weight loss often occur depending on a student's practise. Language/Public Speaking: Basic Japanese and public speaking is started simply with counting-ichi,ni,san... Eventually a student learns the names of stances, katas and techniques etc. As a student progresses they will be asked to lead a warm-up or count a kata for a junior. With time their confidence grows and so does their ability to convey ideas and ask questions in a group setting. Etiquette: A student is taught about manners in the dojo. It starts with how to reply to a teacher, not the shaking of the head but a proper "yes" or "hai". Bowing is sign of respect and everyone bows in the dojo to each other. Clean uniforms, being on time, listening to instruction are key. There are many things to learn. These manners are to be taken with a student everywhere inside and outside the dojo. Philosophy/History: Karate history begins with knowing the Master's of the past and present. Names are taught as well as how Gojyu-Ryu and Meibukan Karate began. The stories told by Master Yagi hold aspects of philosophy that are important to practitioners. They are not just for the dojo but for living ones life. All of the above are important aspects of studying at Brantford Budokan Karate Dojo. A student may decide to delve more extensively into one area. For example, taking a Japanese class, researching Meibukan history, practising conditioning. My training is my continuing education and is satisfying to mind, body and spirit. Reason Seven: "The Year 2030 and Beyond." It has been a long standing joke between me and my Sensei that I will never leave. It is true that I don't want to open my own dojo. I do love to teach as it is a wonderful feeling to see a student grasp a movement that I was able to convey to them by example or through an idea that helps them reach their goals. It is my goal that in the year that I retire I will then begin to instruct full time. I enjoy working beside my Sensei, and to continue his teaching so to preserve the tradition of Meibukan Gojyu-Ryu Karate.

En la mina
by Roberto Salazar, Facebook: Roberto Salazar
TrabajsTTt Trabajar en una mina tiene cierto atractivo. Para empezar, cuando se va bajo tierra uno no sabe si va a volver a la superficie parado o acostado. Eso significa que si uno vuelve a la superficie parado, es porque todo sali bien. Si vuelves acostado, algo sali muy mal. Realmente uno no piensa en eso. Trabaje en casi todos los trabajos en la mina. Tambin fui parte de un equipo de rescate minero por un par de aos. El ser parte de ese equipo te ganaba una chaqueta de cuero muy buena y muy bonita. S que asumir un papel tan importante porque quieres un abrigo de cuero es muy superficial, pero, en mi defensa dir que yo solo tenia 26 aos de edad. Recuerdo un caso que sucedi cuando era el acensorista de la mina. Recibimos una llamada de que hubo un accidente en el fondo de la mina. Lo que sucedi fue que un hombre fue atrapado entre la pared y la pala mecanica que se utiliza para transportar el mineral. Esta pala es similar a un cargador frontal, el cual se utiliza para mover el mineral subterrneo, sin embargo tiene un perfil mucho ms bajo. En esta mina, toda el agua utilizada en la perforacin fluye hacia el fondo del pozo, supongo que el agua siempre fluye hacia abajo, a menos que usted haya sido un inca, pero eso es otra historia. La perforacin y el agua ponen en marcha el proceso de molienda, ya que al perforar la roca se lleva a cabo en parte la separacion del uranio con el resto de la piedra. As que hay un valor en recogiendo el sedimento que se acumula en el fondo de la mina. Las derivas (tneles) son lo suficientemente amplios para que la pala mecanica pueds moverse hacia adelante y hacia atrs. As que esta pasa por una pendiente hasta el fondo del pozo, acapara todo el sedimento, se remonta a la parte superior de la pendiente donde tiene que cambiar de marcha para subir otra inclinacin en la direccin opuesta hasta el lugar donde se deposita ei mineral. Con el fin de cambiar de direccin, el operador presiona el freno, que al mismo tiempo opera el embrague para poder efectuar el cambio de direccion. Bueno, el freno no funcionaba y la pala mecanica comenz a deslizarse por la pendiente. El operador hizo lo que tena que hacer, que es maniobrar para apretar la maquina contra las paredes, de esa forma la maquina se detiene. Luego vienen los mecanicos, desmontan la pala, lo llevan por partes al taller. Para luego ensamblarla de nuevo y mandarla a produccion nuevamente y as sucesivamente. Las reglas de seguridad indican que cuando esta operacion esta en proceso no deben haber peatones en el area. Ahora si por razones de produccion es necesario que los trabajadores entren ah el operador debe parar la mquina, deje que la gente pase y luego contina. En este caso, un electricista y un supervisor de turno estaban en la zona. As que cuando la pala fuera de control comenz a bajar la pendiente. El electricista que era un hombre ms joven fue capaz de saltar y salvar su vida al aferrarse de las caeras de aire y agua que estn afirmadas al techo. El supervisor no fue lo suficientemente rpido y qued atrapado entre las paredes y la pala mecanica. Finalmente, el equipo de rescate lleg a donde el accidente haba tenido lugar y recuper el cuerpo. Luego estn las cosas surrealista, por ejemplo, es como si estuviera al aire libre, pero no lo estas. Usted est en lugares tan estrechos y amplios a la vez, y tan cerca de la naturaleza que a m, la primera vez que baje a la mina. Me sent como que estaba volviendo al vientre de mi madre. Llmelo raro, llmelo loco, llmelo como quieras, pero esa es la mejor manera que tengo para describir lo que sent. Por supuesto, no tengo ni idea de lo que es el interior del tero, pero se senta bien. Otra cosa sorprendente es que se puede oler las flores de la superficie en la primavera. Esto se debe a que el aire fresco se bombea a la mina por unos ventiladores gigantes y a travs de unos socavones donde ya no queda mineral. Una vez que el aire llega al fondo de la mina, comienza su regreso a la superficie por medio de los socavones en explotacin y a travs de la que se llaman las salidas de aire. Ah no se huelen flores sino se respira un aire acido. La acidez de este aire es el dixido de carbono que todos exhalamos, el humo de las maquinarias, al oxidacion natural de la roca, y el olor que el violar la Madre Naturaleza de su balance innato produce. Mientras trabajan en ese ambiente los mineros reciben un casco especial. Este casco tiene un filtro de aire aperado por una bateria que esta incorporada en la parte trasera del casco. Desgraciadamente, el aire producido por este filtro no es suficiente para evitar que la careta plastica del casco se llene de condensacion. Asi que, muchos mineros, incluso yo, terminan con resignarse as usar el casco minero regular y respirar ese aire viciado. Podra seguir, pero voy a parar aqu por el momento. Ho, casi se me olvida. Esta es una publicacin de historias positivas, as que voy a terminar de esa forma. Se trata de una de las cosas en la vida, que no importa cunto tiempo ha transcurrido, si usted se convierte en rico o pobre, o el tiempo que viva, no se lo pueden quitar De los cinco aos que trabaj en la mina. Un mes, mi equipo y yo ganamos el bono de produccion mas alto de entre todos los mineros. Fue un bono de produccion de $ 75.00 diarios sobre los $10.40 por hora que era el pago regular. Eso era mucho dinero en ese entonces. Eso es todo. Hasta la prxima vez ...

June 2013

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WE NEED
HARMONY SQUARE
SATURDAY JUNE 22ND

Support abused women and their children by Raising $100 in pledges.

Prizes awarded to top fundraisers. Kevin Magee was our top fundraiser with $1,790 in pledges last year! All proceeds go to our local womens shelter Nova Vita Domestic Violence Prevention Services. Team Challenges Challenge your competition to create a team and go toe to toe to see who can raise the most!
To register contact Michelle Heaslip at 519-752-1005 ext. 232 or mheaslip@novavita.org Registration starts at 10:00AM We provide the shoes Free BBQ and lots of great prizes