Read on Twitter
Reporting on child welfare is killing me. I can finally admit it.
I am almost done.
See why below:
I still remember the look in Kanina Sue Turtle’s eyes just before life left her 15-year-old body.
I am almost done.
See why below:
I still remember the look in Kanina Sue Turtle’s eyes just before life left her 15-year-old body.
She looked directly into the camera of her iPod that she propped up to record her suicide.
It was like she was looking at me.
My mind has been locked on her eyes for three years as though I am trapped in a cage.
I am not alone in there.
It was like she was looking at me.
My mind has been locked on her eyes for three years as though I am trapped in a cage.
I am not alone in there.
I can hear the echoes of Jolynn Winter’s screams when she reached the edge of death after wrapping a neck tie around her throat and recorded the air being choked from her body.
Three months later she was dead. The 12-year-old wouldn’t pull back a second time.
Three months later she was dead. The 12-year-old wouldn’t pull back a second time.
The cage Kanina put me is getting crowded.
Tammy Keeash is there pushing me to keep going to find the truth of her death. She’s convinced me her drowning wasn’t an accident. Much like her younger brother, Leo, who died years before her from massive head trauma.
Tammy Keeash is there pushing me to keep going to find the truth of her death. She’s convinced me her drowning wasn’t an accident. Much like her younger brother, Leo, who died years before her from massive head trauma.
The babies don’t cry.
Sometimes I forget about them and it fills me with guilt.
Each one died in unsafe sleeping conditions. Crowded cribs. Adult beds. No one was ever held accountable.
Most recently Sacha Bob came along. She had been waiting to be found.
Sometimes I forget about them and it fills me with guilt.
Each one died in unsafe sleeping conditions. Crowded cribs. Adult beds. No one was ever held accountable.
Most recently Sacha Bob came along. She had been waiting to be found.
Neglected to death, she wanted to be seen.
In writing her truth I pushed myself to the brink.
In writing her truth I pushed myself to the brink.
There are 178 Indigenous kids in this cage and it grows every day even if I don’t know all their names, let alone see their faces because they die in the darkness of Ontario’s child welfare system.
I just know they are there.
Every day when I wake up to feed my kids.
I just know they are there.
Every day when I wake up to feed my kids.
Every walk I take my dog on at night.
Now some of their mothers have passed and have joined them.
Pearl Keeash.
Alicia Jacob.
Two women broken long before their deaths.
Now some of their mothers have passed and have joined them.
Pearl Keeash.
Alicia Jacob.
Two women broken long before their deaths.
As much as I try I can’t set any of them free. We are trapped, together, with each of them looking to me for a way out.
They have been leading me into dark areas so I can shine a light for the world to see.
They have been leading me into dark areas so I can shine a light for the world to see.
But you don’t see. Not yet, even after all I have exposed. It's not enough. I wonder if it ever will be.
And each day I break a little more. Slowly all my decisions in life are soaked in this misery. Even when I am happy I am sad.
And each day I break a little more. Slowly all my decisions in life are soaked in this misery. Even when I am happy I am sad.
I fight to smile. I fight to go on. I think of ways out.
It’s not Kanina’s eyes, Jolynn’s screams or Tammy’s persistence.
It’s the system.
I have said each story I write is another nail in system’s coffin that I am trying to bury in the ground.
It’s not Kanina’s eyes, Jolynn’s screams or Tammy’s persistence.
It’s the system.
I have said each story I write is another nail in system’s coffin that I am trying to bury in the ground.
For a long time I believed that.
But the system was built to outlast even those most stubborn reporter. I keep searching for the best stone. I never seem to hit the system square between the eyes.
It fights me at every step.
It pushes me back.
But the system was built to outlast even those most stubborn reporter. I keep searching for the best stone. I never seem to hit the system square between the eyes.
It fights me at every step.
It pushes me back.
Yet, it holds all the secrets so I keep digging.
It’s fair to say I have one last push in me.
One last stone.
It’s taken me a long time to find it.
It’s fair to say I have one last push in me.
One last stone.
It’s taken me a long time to find it.
I am going to catch my breath. Dig in and take my best shot.
Maybe I'll find the key that sets them all free.
Because, only then, shall I be released.
Maybe I'll find the key that sets them all free.
Because, only then, shall I be released.
