At the beginning of important gatherings, we pause to remember that this land has a history and that many have walked here before us. I often wonder whether this small act of reconciliation will help to create meaningful change in our world and whether students understand why it is so important for schools to do this.
I think about my own connection to the land, the places that have been important to me throughout my life, the places where I have grown and become an adult. I realize that the connection I feel to special places in my life is a physical, emotional and spiritual one. I have a deep love for the place where I have grown up and where my own children have grown. I remember fondly the places where I’ve happily celebrated milestones in my life. So many of these places have been schools. As a teacher, I’ve been continually in school for more than 40 years. Schools are where I felt safe, loved, nurtured and where I belonged. My own teachers are among the most influential relationships in my life.
I know that my experiences in schools are not what everyone has experienced. In fact, many people my age have had very different and sometimes traumatic experiences. This saddens my teacher's heart and makes me want to make sure that our school is one where students are deeply cared for and their gifts are nurtured. The pictures shown are of Edgemont students interacting with this place in many different ways. The land that Edgemont School was built on is special. A walk around our school, across the ridge and looking out towards the Rocky Mountains is breathtaking. We are so fortunate to be able to come to this place every day to breathe the air that rises on the wind and feel an abundance of space in the city. We have the privilege to belong to this place that is both beautiful and provides a connection with our community.
In the spring when schools closed, I felt the loss of a place like I’ve never experienced before. I have moved homes, changed schools and even relocated to a different province. Each time I have left a space it has been by my choice or knowing that the change was leading forward to the future in some positive way. But in the spring, I felt a profound loss of community and of purpose. In a moment the school stopped being a safe, nurturing center of our community. We were no longer able to come together and learn, laugh and live. The pandemic has helped me to realize that circumstances change very quickly and unpredictably and that connection to this place and all of the relationships between people in this space can’t be taken for granted. In a moment there can be an event that changes everything.
I also know that the loss that I felt when our school was taken from us is very small in comparison to the suffering of our indigenous people, who have suffered being removed from their lands, children removed from their families. It pains me that schools were the source of trauma and pain inflicted on so many. As a child and even as a student becoming a teacher I did not know about the legacy of residential schools. Now that I do, I can’t go back to not knowing, I am changed by knowing. I struggle to find answers to questions that belong to us all.
The land acknowledgement is a small but potentially powerful act of remembering and revealing the truth. It is important that the history of this place and of the traditional people who once lived here be heard not hidden. Only then can we start to reconcile, heal and build a future that unites all who now make their home on this land. Always, the land remains. We would like to acknowledge the traditional territories and oral practices of the Blackfoot Nations, which includes the Siksika, the Piikani, and the Kainai. We also acknowledge the Tsuut'ina and Stoney Nakoda First Nations, The Metis Nation (Region 3), and all people who make their homes in the Treaty 7 region of Southern Alberta.
Lori HolfordPrincipal Edgemont School
