Pillars

I spent a part of my summer at university, and lived with three colleagues from the North. We knew each other in the way that long-time residents of a small town know each other; that, and our mutual occupation put us together every now and then. But suddenly, there I was, having to share housing with three virtual strangers. Somehow it seemed much easier to do that at 18 rather than at 45. I probably know more about personal space and comfort than previously.

Anyway, there we were. We developed the rituals that go with strangers sharing common spaces. We developed an appreciation of each others' strengths and foibles as we endured three weeks of classes together. It certainly made the learning experience more enjoyable than it otherwise could have been. We talked about what we were doing all the time... able to share that energy that comes from being immersed, without the other distractions of real life.

What gives this picture relevance now is that its symbols have surpassed its original purpose. Initially, we were on a walk together to clear the cobwebs after a long day of indoor discussion (and frustration) with the rest of the cohort. We had to make a deliberate choice to be together, rather than peeling off on our own individual adventures, which easily could have been the case. I asked the others to pose, feeling that I had to get something pictoral captured for posterity, if only to later remind me of those "lost weeks" at SFU. Arty isn't really my style, but I'm trying to branch out.

As the months have gone on, I have come to see each of these women as pillars in our profession. They don't have to spend all this time and money on learning new things, but they are genuinely interested and determined to make improvements that will benefit the kids they teach. Each of them works with some very challenging students, and they never stop thinking about the classroom. And they stay positive, upbeat, and involved. And they have families and strong community ties.

There's more, to do with the First Nations implications of the stylised killer whale, and the cedar, but it's long and involved. The women are a part of that sculpture in ways they would not have thought at the time. I'd go on, but I'm tired and cold and have to face another dawn picketting in the rainstorm. In my mind tomorrow, maybe I'll pretend that I'm back up Burnaby Mountain with friends.