Riel’s vision grows stronger

As the first visionary of Manitoba, Riel fought the rest of his life to stop British domination and destruction of Indigenous lives, while stubbornly maintain the independent and unique multicultural spirit that birthed this place.

Feds to return parliamentary find to Algonquins

The Conservative Party of Canada must embrace rapid change to its methods of platform development, leadership and candidate selection, while pushing back on efforts to radicalize the party.

A novel to weave Filipino roots into her sons’ future

In Primrose Madayag Knazan’s first novel, food is the gateway to a fuller understanding of self. It’s a narrative arc that’s played out many times in real life for the Winnipeg playwright.

Lessons in Fusion follows 16-year-old food blogger Sarah as she embarks on a virtual cooking competition that pushes her to explore her Filipino heritage. It’s an eye-opening journey for the main character, who was raised emphatically Jewish.

Like Sarah, Madayag Knazan is Jewish and also re-connected with her Filipino roots later in life.

“I grew up at a time when my parents were basically told, ‘You can’t speak Filipino to your daughter anymore because she’s not going to be smart, she’s not going to succeed’,” says Madayag Knazan, whose family immigrated to Winnipeg from the Philippines in 1974. “I lost that tie to my culture and I’ve been fighting to get that back since then.”

Listening after decades of hearing

It seemed that all of Canada glowed orange, in act or in mind. On the streets of Winnipeg, a sea of people marched in orange shirts, carrying orange signs. On social media, people shared text posts on orange backgrounds, urging more attention to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission's 94 calls to action.

Even city buses — though not orange — marked the day on their digital signs.

If you'd come to me 10 years ago and told me this week would happen, I wouldn't have believed you. If you'd told me that on the last day of September 2021, everything from a cocktail bar to a Botox clinic would close to remember the children and survivors of residential schools, I would have said you were telling me about a dream.

Not the kind we seek to create, but the kind that disintegrates upon waking.

Heavy hearts, happy hearts

The marchers arrive at St. John's Park at almost exactly the minute predicted. They arrive in a great orange wave, all wearing shirts the same colour. They arrive led by the drum, and the riders on horseback, and the tendrils of smudge that curl over Main Street, cleansing the path to the park where the powwow is underway.

"Are we all going to fit into the park, guys?" one young woman gasps, laughing as she surveys the scene.

In a way they do, in a way they don't. For hours, the people flow into the park from all directions. They flow by the hundreds, and then the thousands. They flow until the fields show less green than orange, until lines for the porta-potties stretch into the dozens, until the whole park is alive with laughter and conversation.

The crowd looks like Manitoba. It contains faces of all ages, all races. Most of the people here are Indigenous, but on this day they are joined in solidarity by people of all nations; a movement, generations in the making, to call for a way forward, to call for action on reconciliation, to call for justice for Indigenous people.

Manitobans take to streets in name of truth, reconciliation

A sea of orange flooded downtown Winnipeg, as thousands of Manitobans came together to honour residential school survivors, mourn those lost to the system, and mark the first National Day for Truth and Reconciliation.

On Thursday morning, outside the towering Canadian Museum for Human Rights, a historic sight: crowds of people in orange shirts honouring a group of Sixties Scoop, residential school and day school survivors gathered on the steps.

"We went there as beautiful children; we wake up every day with these memories,” Gerry Shingoose — herself a residential school survivor — called into a megaphone, looking out at the growing crowd.

"Today is such a beautiful day to honour each one of us."

Portraits of survivors, tales of strength

Since 2013, Sept. 30 has been known as Orange Shirt Day — to honour the children who survived Indian residential schools and to remember those who did not return home.

It is also now the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, which asks all Canadians to reflect upon relationships with Indigenous people, remember the harms of the past, and focus on ways to commit to healthy and positive growth throughout all communities today.

Here are six inspiring stories of Manitoba survivors of the residential school, day school, and child welfare systems:

Bright orange safety shirts now beacon of hope, thanks to young designer

Isaiah Binns, who graduated last spring from Elmwood High School, arrives at the downtown headquarters of Richlu Industries, the manufacturer of Tough Duck workwear, to see the logo he helped create for a line of the company’s reflective safety clothing ahead of the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation.

Winnipeg School Division to review all its schools named after people

Manitoba’s largest school board is reviewing all of its K-12 building titles to determine whether the namesakes and their respective legacies are in line with modern-day morals.

Last week, Jamie Dumont, vice-chairwoman of the board of trustees in the Winnipeg School Division, introduced a motion to undertake an evaluation of all schools named after people and research each historical figure’s resumé.

“We operate, as a school division, under a number of values and, in many cases, we are very much a leader in diversity, equity, inclusion and Indigenous education — so I think it’s important that, as a board, we ensure that our schools and our buildings don’t contradict these values,” Dumont said during a virtual board meeting Sept. 13.

The review will identify whether any buildings are named after individuals with a history of actions that are discriminatory or not in accordance with WSD values, namely: inclusiveness, diversity, reconciliation, and respect for the rights and human dignity of others, or both.

Flags of Treaty One, the Dakota and Métis fly at city hall

Drumbeats reverberated as four Indigenous leaders rode horseback past the brick-walled restaurants on King Street: it was the beginning of a ceremony to recognize the place of Indigenous people in Winnipeg.

On Wednesday morning, the flags of Treaty One First Nations, the Dakota and the Métis were hoisted at city hall. They'll be there permanently, alongside the flags of Canada, Manitoba and Winnipeg.

"It'll make our people proud that their flag will be flying at city hall," said Sagkeeng First Nation Chief Derrick Henderson. "That is so significant."

Chiefs, representatives of various Indigenous groups and Winnipeg Mayor Brian Bowman spoke at the flag-raising event. Ribbon skirts, headdresses and face masks were abundant among the crowd.

Group engages community on renaming Wolseley neighbourhood

In 1870, Col. Garnet Wolseley led a military expedition into Manitoba to violently overthrow Louis Riel’s provisional government at the Red River Colony. On Sunday afternoon, a group gathered at Vimy Ridge Park to discuss how to push for the renaming of the neighbourhood that bears his name.

Red River Echoes, a Métis collective that first came together with the purpose of “bringing an alternative voice to what Métis people think in Manitoba” after Manitoba Metis Federation president David Chartrand put out an ad with the Winnipeg Free Press in March in support of the Winnipeg Police Service, put together the rendezvous to take questions and comments community members might have around the growing conversation to rename Wolseley.

"With a lot of names being changed right now, we thought it was a good opportunity,” Red River Echoes member Claire Johnston said. “And Wolseley in particular has a really violent and negative association for Métis people, and also all other people of colour in who live in Winnipeg.”

In the months since the remains of 215 children were found in unmarked graves near a residential school in Kamloops, B.C., calls have been sparked across the country to rename landmarks named after people who had a hand in the colonization of Canada. In Winnipeg, Wolseley isn’t the first instance — calls to rename Bishop Grandin Boulevard due to its namesake’s hand in the residential school system have resulted in consultations and a possible recommendation for its renaming coming to city council this fall.

Black History Manitoba's block party opportunity for chefs to share their passion

As a little girl growing up in Jamaica, Patrice Gilman dreamed that one day, she would cook just like Gladys, her grandmother. Everyone around downtown Kingston knew Gladys, and the little restaurant she owned in the area called Southside. Her dish of tripe and beans was famous, and fed famous athletes and hungry kids alike.

Gilman was fascinated by watching her grandmother manage the little kitchen, cooking all on her own, darting between pots of goat or chicken or fish bubbling on any of a dozen wood-fired stoves. Every morning, Gladys rose before the sun to start making lunch, and every day she was sold out of food not long after noon.

Still, she always had a little something for the kids who hung around, the ones who didn’t have enough.

“She was a one-woman show,” Gilman says. “She would feed the whole community. She had nine children, and raised many more children that weren’t her own. She passed away about 13 years ago, but her spirit lives on so strongly in our family’s heart.”

Indigenous issues no longer stuck on back burner

Manitoba follows a standard formula for federal elections: other than the affluent suburbs, Winnipeg votes mostly Liberal while everywhere else — besides the north — goes Conservative.

With support for provincial Conservatives waning, anger at Justin Trudeau for calling an election during a pandemic, and the rise of the provincial NDP, there are strong indications that predictable Manitoba seats are up for grabs.

The appearance of Trudeau and O’Toole in the city Friday is evidence.

Why would both visit on the same day NDP Leader Jagmeet Singh toured unmarked graves at a former residential school in Saskatchewan?

Preserving stories of Muslim history in Manitoba

It was in the early 1900s when one of the first Muslims to live in Manitoba arrived in the province.

His name was Ahmed Awid, and he came from what is now Lebanon — one of perhaps fewer than 1,000 Muslims in Canada at the time.

Awid settled in Brandon, where he married a local woman and established two successful businesses before moving to Edmonton in 1928.

Awid’s story is one of many told in a new book: Muslims in Manitoba: a History of Resilience and Growth.

Map-based history of Canada a marvel

If you like maps, you’ll like this book; if you like both maps and crisply recounted Canadian history, you’ll love it.

Adam Shoalts is the author of a previous Canadian bestseller, 2015’s Alone Against the North, which recounted his exploration of the muskeg and river wilderness that is the Hudson Bay Lowlands.

The maps of his second book are springboards for his accounts of how this country’s vast expanses were charted.

Shoalts believes maps have been fundamental in shaping our view of Canada. He supports this belief by offering up pivotal moments in our country’s history via stories built around 10 specific maps, most of which, in turn, are the product of specific explorations.

While our 150th birthday party is a big, 'Dominion Day' began with respectful restraint

It’s safe to say what is now called Canada Day had modest beginnings in these parts.As far back as 1869 — two years after Confederation and one year before Manitoba was born — the July 3 issue of the Nor’Wester, the paper of record for the “Colony of Assiniboia,” dutifully reported that celebrations on July 1 were muted.

“Dominion Day was kept in our little town by the raising of the ‘Canadian’ flag upon the now celebrated staff — said to be 70 feet, be the same 20 feet more or less — which flag was liberal sainted during the day by an ‘Anvil Chorus’ adapted to ‘God Save the Queen’ and ‘Hurrah! for the New Dominion,” the paper noted. “The affair was wound up by a large bonfire in the evening.

“Not a gun was heard, or a funeral note or anything else,” the account added, “but then you see the H.B.C. (Hudson Bay Company) is keeping her patriotism like champagne, well bottled and wired down, for a future occasion, when we may expect to see it burst forth in a manner calculated to astonish the natives.”

Of course, these were the days of the Riel Rebellion in the Red River Colony. Not exactly the time to be popping that “champagne” in public. Besides, the majority of the less than 1,000 colony settlers considered themselves British. And a vast majority of residents, the Métis under Riel, were literally at war with the new Canada.

Les souvenirs d’un vétéran de Bosnie et d’Afghanistan

On n'a jamais tiré sur Marc Lavoie. Ni en Bosnie, ni en Afghanistan. Mais l'adjudant-maître du 38e Groupe-brigade du Canada connaît intimement les zones sinistrées par la guerre.

Lorsque Lavoie est arrivé en Bosnie, en 1997, la période de violence armée dans l'ancienne Yougoslavie était révolue. Le natif de Kapuskasing, aujourd'hui adjudant-maître chargé du maintien de l'équipement du 38e Groupe-brigade du Canada, se souvient "bien clairement" des ravages de la guerre.

"Les forces canadiennes faisaient alors partie de la mission de l'OTAN, chargée de stabiliser les zones sinistrées en Bosnie-Herzégovine, Croatie, Macédoine et au Kosovo. J'étais stationné la base canadienne de Drvar, en Bosnie, pour mes deux tours de mission. "J'assumais le maintien des véhicules, des génératrices d'électricité et d'autres équipements militaires. Parfois, il fallait quitter la base pour remorquer des véhicules qui avait été touchés par des mines.

"Le grand défi c'était de stabiliser la région. On était l pour aider les habitants du pays se remettre sur pied. Des villages entiers avaient été dévastés par la guerre. Dans bien des endroits, les gens vivaient comme au 19e siècle. On chargeait nos camions de bois pour le chauffage, sans parler d'eau potable.

Oka at 25, lessons in reconciliation

It's been a generation since July 11, 1990, when a SWAT team piled out of a truck and advanced against a small Mohawk protest on a dirt road in the pine forest outside the Quebec village of Oka. What followed was a 78-day armed siege -- the most violent and consequential clash between indigenous people and the Canadian state in modern times.

What has changed during the past 25 years? What hasn't? And why has there not been another Oka despite repeated warnings about indigenous unrest across the country?

The crisis was sparked by a proposed golf course expansion and condo development that would have turned a Mohawk cemetery at Kanesatake into a parking lot. It represented something much bigger -- a history of inequality and a society divided by race and seething with anger.

The images were jarring. Tanks rolled through quiet communities, white rioters burned effigies of Mohawk warriors, cars carrying Mohawk women and children were pelted with rocks as police stood by, and most iconic of all, a soldier and Mohawk Warrior stared each other down at point-blank range. Generations of tension compressed into the few inches between their steely faces. The nation was on edge.