First Nations

All posts tagged First Nations

WHERE TWO RIVERS MEET

Published August 11, 2019 by rochellewisoff

Karen’s directive: This week Pegman takes us to Manitoba, Canada. Feel free to use the location/picture supplied with the prompt, our take your own tour of Manitoba via Google Maps and find a view to inspire you.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the week’s location. You may write poetry, prose, or essay. Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the linkup below. Reading and commenting on others’ stories is part of the fun!

Thank you, Karen and Josh for hosting this weekly challenge. 

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Here is the photo I chose from Google Maps. I hope one day to see the Northern Lights in person.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

WHERE TWO RIVERS MEET

            Blue, purple and green snaked across the night sky. Stars twinkled through the brilliant colours.

            Full and drowsy after the evening meal, warmed by the fire, Tantoo laid her head on her mother’s shoulder. “Tell me about the lights, Nikawi. Where do they come from?”

            Nikawi stroked Tantoo’s hair. “They are the spirits dancing. See how they move in circles?”

            “Nohkum says they are our beloved ancestors visiting us and we should respect them.”

            “Your grandmother is a wise woman.” Nikawi’s eyes glittered. “One day we will dance with them.”

            “I can hardly wait.” Tantoo yawned, her eyelids heavy with sleep. “I heard the elders say our way of life will end soon. Is this true?”  

             Nikawi did not reply.

            The girl could not imagine it. The Nisichawayasihk had always hunted, fished and tended the land. In return Mother Earth rewarded their reverence. How could it not always be so?  

 

5 April 2019

Published April 3, 2019 by rochellewisoff

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As always, please be considerate of your fellow Fictioneers and keep your stories to 100 words. (Title is not included in the word count.)  Many thanks. 

The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

BEYOND THE BUCKSKIN CURTAIN

Wide-mouthed comic, Joe E. Brown gave Harry a movie extras card. “You oughta be in pictures, handsome.”

            Harry had gained notoriety in boxing, wrestling, and lacrosse. Thoughts of seeing his name up in lights enticed him.

            After playing several bit parts, he answered an audition for the new medium called television. He soon found fame to be a mixed bag of blessings and curses.  

            In 1963, Harry, now known as Jay Silverheels, founded the Indian Actors Workshop to encourage aspiring Indigenous performers to shoot for roles with better lines than, “Sheriff have sickness in head, Kemosabe—cannot fix with medicine.”   

To learn a little more about this Canadian-born hero CLICK HERE

 

 

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27 November 2015

Published November 25, 2015 by rochellewisoff

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If you want to be part of this group click the link above and follow the rules set forth by Jennifer Pendergast, the leader of this subgroup. No one is under obligation to participate. Please keep it polite and friendly. 

The following photo is the PHOTO PROMPT. Please give credit where credit is due. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

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Here in the States Thursday, the 26th, is Thanksgiving, a day set aside to count our blessings and remember the Pilgrims who came here in 1620 supposedly seeking religious freedom. Alas, it’s also one of those times when history has been candy coated to make it easier to swallow. So today I serve a healthy helping of my favorite subject. 

Genre: Somewhat Historical Fiction

Word count: 100

KESHAGESH

            “The Pilgrims stepped off the Mayflower onto Plymouth Rock,” Matthew read aloud. “Friendly Indians helped them plant corn and—”

            “They should’ve been called Pillagers.” Rita fumed, snatched his paper and ripped it apart.  “We’re indigenous and this is not India.”    

            “Mom, that’s my homework.”

            She handed him another sheet of paper. “Write this, Matthew Thundercloud, not what you think your teacher wants to hear.

            “They robbed graves, stole our land, enslaved us, murdered our children, forced their Christian religion upon us and gave us smallpox.”

            “What if she gives me an ‘F’?”

             Just smile and say, ‘Happy Turkey Day.’”

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