August 12: Walk a mile in my shoes

This week, our focus has been other walkers and another “pilgrimage”, by members of Sobercrew, a grass roots, self-help group for recovering addicts from the Stoney-Nakoda nation. Through our friend Holly, we are peripherally involved with Ama’Hnabino (They are taking me home).

The Stoney-Nakoda people of the Morley Reservation have lost many children to addiction, many on the streets of Calgary. They are unable to pass over, because they are trapped in the darkness. They cannot find their way to the sacred fire. Robbie Daniels, a founding Sobercrew member, was called, through a spirit quest, to walk to collect these spirits and bring them home. Each spirit quest is a four-year cycle. 2024 is the final walk.

Although, this is an Indigenous-led project, for Indigenous participants, Holly is instrumental in gathering support from local churches. She has a real commitment to Truth & Reconciliation, going back to her own childhood, running with the first nation children in her neighbourhood; seeing how they were treated differently. She has taught me much, modelled more and also invited me into activities and resources where this work is being done, of which Ama’Hnabino is one. In 2022, we helped out with the logistics of their night at Knox. This year, we are videoing the walk and the event: a pilgrimage by others, set between our own two pilgrimages of this year.

Two days in, I am exhausted. I am “ground crew”, wielding the OSMO (video) and my trusty mobile (stills). Carey is “air side”, expertly flying his drones from fixed waypoints.

It’s not the walking. Yesterday, I did 24km with the group, of the 35km they walked. Today, I walked 5km into Central Park Plaza with a much-expanded crowd, who whooped, drummed, calling out “Time to come home” in several languages, including English.

It’s the witness. I stood today for nearly 3 hours in the Plaza, carefully videoing each speaker, each message: lives turned around, loved ones lost, struggle, sickness, homelessness… The testimonies of recovery from elders, rappers, matriarchs, from drummers and dancers finding healing in traditional practices. It’s listening to the conversations on the walk, full of anger, resentment for a “white” system that degraded and still excludes. One walker had 15 white ribbons on her wrist, representing friends, family dead by OD. MC Bill asked the Plaza crowd for a show of hands: by eye, one in three attendees had lost 5 or more people to addiction.

Ama’Hnabino is hope, resilience in action. Still, I am profoundly grateful this is not my world. As with my time, working on Reservation in BC, I am humbled that I am able to walk away from the fall out, the disfunction - and return to my safe, cosy home each night.

As we prepare for our own walk, a sharp illustration of difference: speaker after speaker spoke of the “sacrifice” of the Sobercrew walkers; of the inspiration and comfort they give their people, living and dead. Meanwhile, for us, walking is a much-prized holiday.