Alberta Rose W

I’m an Inuvialuk from a small dusty town named Black Diamond, in southern Alberta. Our house, by all outward appearances, was mayhem. It was not unusual to see a broken-down vehicle somewhere in the yard, and I’m sure a great manner of other junk lying around that would certainly vex our more affluent neighbours. My dad worked in the city; he had an hour’s commute each way and would often leave well before we woke up. In the evening, he’d come home to dinner and fall into exhaustion in front of the television.

My mother was a small, mighty Inuvialuk woman—a survivor of the residential school system and of other unspoken traumas. Those past experiences weighed heavily on her. Regardless, she did her best to raise us with kindness and love, and hoped to shield us from the same experiences that she had had growing up. Having left school at the tender age of 12, she always emphasized the importance of education. She ordered us books through Reader’s Digest as often as she could and read quite often herself.

I was the youngest of five children and had early on been labelled ‘the artist’ in the family, but it wasn’t until high school that I had the chance to actually try painting. I was lucky enough to have had a supportive teacher there who helped me in my pursuit of art. I started out by staying after school, sometimes as late as 9:00 p.m. to practice. Once he got word that I had stayed so late, he suggested that I bring some small jars of paint home with me so that I could practice there.

My early drawings and paintings weren’t very good, but I kept at it. I had also developed a love of reading, which fueled my imagination and desire for adventure. I had already lived through traumas of my own by that time, including being bullied, dealing with racism and living in poverty (to name a few), so books and art were like safe, reliable friends.

Around this time, a new kid moved to town, a Dené boy the same age as me. We were instant friends. His brother and sister-in-law were both artists and she worked at the Boys and Girls Club in town, another space where I could sometimes make art and receive some encouragement.

I left school when I was 17. I moved to the city with a friend and tried to make it work, but I eventually went back and finished high school before moving around for a while. I was still doing art somewhat, but it was unfocused and sporadic at best. I wasn’t growing or being challenged.

It wasn’t until I was 26 that I finally felt fed up and applied to college. I ended up studying at the Alberta College of Art and Design (now called Alberta University of the Arts). Before college, I was unsure and unconfident. I thought that it would be too difficult to do—that I would be better off just working and paying bills. But not following my passion wasn’t enough, so I took the chance. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in that small, dusty town without seeing more of the world and having any real adventures.

I was accepted to attend the Alberta College of Art and Design in 2010. It had been several years since I finished high school, so being back in an academic setting was quite difficult, to say the least. At that time, there was no Indigenous ‘students centre’ or ‘students club’ at the college that I was aware of. I had no support system and was often the only Indigenous student in my classes.

I failed…a few times. My financial situation was dire, and I was nearly kicked out, but once I got my bearings and found a balance in my workload, it got better.

I had taken out student loans to go to school and worked on the side. I moved around a lot, and anytime my parents could help with a few dollars here or there, they would. My mother was in the midst of the Truth and Reconciliation process at that time and wanted to help me pay for college if she ever was given reparations. She passed away unexpectedly a couple of days before her hearing. We were all devastated. She was the glue that held our family together.

I was in my third year of college when it happened and had involved her in a photo project only three weeks earlier.

I continued school, because I knew that was what she would have wanted me to do. But being unable to face the grief of losing her, I kept myself busy. It was already pretty common for me to be at school all day and night, but I also joined a progressive leadership-training program to further expand my knowledge of social activism, and the newly formed Indigenous Students Club at ACAD.

During my fourth year of school, the former president of the club had graduated and, to keep it going, I took her place. It was such an important support system within the institution, and I made friends there that I am still in contact with today.

At the end of my collegiate career, I consciously worked towards facing the grief that I felt in losing my mother. It had been a year and a half at that point since she passed, and we all felt the sting of it each day. That is when I created a series of paintings called Blood (pictured below), five portraits on canvas that were stretched to look like Inuit Drums. The portraits consisted of my siblings, my father, and myself.

I’ve been blessed and cursed, as we all are on this journey—but when things are rough, I often remember my mother and it helps me get through the tough times. It is also good to remember the friends and family that I have met along the way, to remember what I have survived already, and the words from a book that I read once: “Sadness has a season, and it will pass.”

MOHKINSTSIS (CALGARY) BASED ARTIST, ALBERTA ROSE W obtained her BFA with distinction from the Alberta University of the Arts (formerly ACAD). She acted as the president of the Indigenous Student’s club during fourth year as a way to create a supportive, inclusive environment within the Institution. She was also a member of Next Up, a Canada-wide leadership group for progressive young people, has worked in politics, been an Indigenous youth mentor, chef de partie, and practicum at the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity. She is currently a liaison for Inuit Art Foundation and practicing artist.