Xavier Kataquapit

In reading the news headlines today, I noticed one of the main stories was about my home community of Attawapiskat along the James Bay coast.
The news item highlighted the housing crisis happening in communities like Attawapiskat, Fort Albany and Kashechewan. Some people are living in tents and sheds. But this is not news to me. As long as I can remember housing has always been in a state of crisis on the James Bay coast.

Recently, while covering an event as part of my work, I was surprised at a question that came my way. That query came from the voice of a child.
Little Michael Tomagatick looked up at me and asked, “Do you speak your language?”
I told him yes in the Cree dialect from the Attawapiskat area.

Christmas is right around the corner. It is supposed to be a time of peace, love and good will to each other. Instead, I feel more or less heart broken.
I thought that when Canada found out about my people in Attawapiskat and their lack of quality housing, they would have responded in a positive way. I hoped that governments and the Canadian population would understand just how difficult life is for most Native people who are living on remote First Nations right across Canada.

Winter ice roads could be fading away and airships might be taking over. A report by the Conference Board of Canada is suggesting that airships like the ones that dominated the skies in the 1920s and 1930s could serve remote First Nation communities.

It is as cold as a ‘you know what’. That’s right: we are into a cold spell right now in Northern Ontario and even in the south. However, this winter is very warm compared to past years. The winter ice road to Attawapiskat just recently opened and it looks like it won’t last all that long.
Still, minus 20 and 30 below zero days and nights are still being experienced in the far north of Ontario although that is getting more and more rare. I recall many days at minus 40 below zero when I was a boy back home up the James Bay coast. That was normal back then.