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A gray, rainy day. Wishing I was at home curled up with a novel in my PJs. The professor looked around the room at vacant faces and asked, “What will you do for the people to be?”

The people to be are the ones to come after us who are not yet here. First Nations people call them the seventh generation. The land does not belong to us, it belongs to them, and we are only here to take care of it for the time being. We are to ensure that the abundance and beauty of the land remain for those to come. This belief speaks volumes about respect. Respect for the land that sustains us, and respect for all other living beings. For without it, we are all forever lost.

The question awakened me. What do I have to offer to the world? I didn’t know what my answer was at first.

But then a voice whispered in my mind three words: Love, truth and storyteller.

Then I felt my throat get tight. I couldn’t possibly say that in front of a room full of people. They would laugh, they would not understand. But then I realized my pounding heart and sweaty palms had nothing to do with them. I was scared to own what was mine, what I had to offer the world. That would make me horribly vulnerable.

But you can’t connect without being vulnerable.

I am a storyteller who writes the truth with love. Truth is scary and ugly sometimes. But love softens it, moulds it into something broken but still beautiful. What will I do for the people to be? Write. And hope that somehow my words make the world a better place for the people now and for the people to come. We are only safe guarding our home, after all.

What will YOU do for the people to be?

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