The old adage, It takes a village to raise a child, has never been more true than now.
Graeme and Simon Berney-Edwards of Redhill, Surrey, England are the proud fathers of two-year-old twins. They have the family they always wanted, but it wasn’t easy and they didn’t get there on their own.
The first step in their journey to fatherhood took them to an in vitro fertilization clinic in Las Vegas and eggs from an anonymous donor.
Step two had the couple looking to Canada for a surrogate, Canadian laws governing surrogacy being more progressive than those in the U.K.
Enter Meg Stone of Hamilton, Ontario. Meg was up for the challenge of carrying twins, half-siblings, one fathered by Graeme, one by Simon.
All in all, it took two women and two men across three countries to make the Berney-Edwards dream of a family come true.
As a species we’ve done our best to wipe each other out, wrecked whole continents of people because they weren’t like us. Didn’t look the same, didn’t think the same, didn’t speak our language.
And yet, despite our millennia of ignorance and arrogance and greed, we haven’t managed to destroy everything…not quite everything. Not yet.
Thanks to people like Katani Julian, a Mi’kmaq language teacher from Nova Scotia, indigenous languages live on.
In celebration of the UN’s International Year of Indigenous Languages, Julian took on the task of translating Paul McCartney’s Blackbird into Mi’kmaq feeling that lyrics like Take these broken wings, and learn to fly resonate with the indigenous experience in Canada. “It’s the type of gentle advice we get from our elders when we feel defeated, when we feel down.”
In the hope that we can learn to not break any more wings, here is Emma Stevens of Eskasoni, Nova Scotia singing Blackbird…
One Kwe, or One Woman, is the name of Kathryn Corbiere’s metal shop in M’Chigeeng, Manitoulin Island.
It resonates, doesn’t it? One woman against the world, brave, and strong, and … well, you get the idea.
It’s a great name, both aesthetically pleasing and accurate, in that Kathryn is a one woman show. She runs her own business, creating and selling modern furniture and art.
One of Kathryn’s art pieces, created in consultation with Pride Manitoulin’s youth group, now hangs in the Objibwe Cultural Foundation. A modern take on the traditional dream catcher, and incorporating LGBT symbolism in its triangular shape and the pride colours worked into the hanging metal feathers, the piece includes three Objibwe words worked into its base—
Respect Love Courage
Like many of us, Kathryn ended up on this particular path because the one she originally started out on turned into a dead end. Unable to find work as a welder, she took her training, and her artistic talent, and tried something else.
Kathryn’s secret to success, “You have to be willing to try.”
Oh, you mean, get off the couch and turn off Netflix?
Personally, I’m not into the whole Valentine’s Day hoopla. That heart-shaped box was a big deal back in high school, the year I was actually dating someone when February 14th rolled around, but I’m over it now 🙂
I don’t know what the day means to any of you, but I’m betting no one does Valentine’s Day like Paul Lewis. No hackneyed card, or mediocre chocolates for our boy, Paul.
The Victoria, B.C. man, finding a creative use for all the white stuff lying around his backyard, built his girlfriend an igloo.
The home-made snow house, featuring solar-powered lights, a fire pit, and a bed kept Paul and Julie warm as they toasted each other over a glass of wine.
And, in case you’re wondering…
Yes, they spent the night outside, inside their bubble of snow 🙂
Remember when piles of white stuff on the ground made you smile, back before snow became a four-letter word? Before the frozen crystals meant winter tires, and icy streets, and double the commute home.
Remember snow angels, and winter forts, and snowball fights?
Most of us growing up in the Great White North don’t remember our first snowfall because snow just is. A part of life, it arrives every year whether you want it to or not.
Newcomers to Canada though, aren’t so blasé about the white stuff.
These two children, newly arrived from a refugee camp in Sudan, couldn’t be happier with the fat flakes falling out of the sky.
Watching them, I can almost … almost be happy about winter 🙂