National Adult Literacy Database

February 25, 2008

Story

by Marlene Drapeau

I was born a member of the First Nations at Selkirk on August 1, 1939 in a tent under the brightest star ever seen at that time of year. They tell me that I was a beautiful baby with flaming red hair. Naturally, they expected me to have a bad temper but I fooled them all. Instead, I grew up to be a very curious child who loved nature and had a strong tendency to pick flowers sometimes out of my Grandmother's choice flowerbeds. I was born into a one-parent family and since my mother needed to work, I was brought up by very strict grandparents. My grandpa died when I was a few weeks old so I became very much my Grandma's girl. She taught me to speak my native language - Northern Tutchone and trained me in the ways of the native people.

I began school when I was eleven years old but that did not last for long because my Grandmother became ill and I had to stay home and take care of her. When I was thirteen years old, I had to go to work to help provide for my grandma. During my teen years my work consisted of waiting on tables, cleaning, caring for children, doing laundry or whatever I could find to do. When I was in my early twenties, I attempted to branch out. I left the Yukon and went to Alberta where I continued to work as a waitress until I got a job cooking and cleaning at a lumber camp. It was at this camp that I met my future husband-to-be and in 1965 we were married and moved to Ontario to make a home and raise a family. I didn't have to work any longer as my husband was a good provider. My good fortune was short lived.

In 1971, my husband was accidentally electrocuted by a fallen hydropower line and I found myself alone with three children ranging in ages from sixteen months to four years. I returned to the Yukon and settled in Mayo where I have been the sole provider for myself and my family. I went back to doing the kind of work that I did best and with the help of the good Lord took care of my three children. We had to make many sacrifices. In 1983, after struggling through a course at Yukon College in Mayo, I received my Building Operator Certificate for Boiler and Pressure Vessels Act and I became the head custodian for janitorial services at J.V. Clark School where I am still employed.

I am happy and proud of the fact that my three children have all graduated from high school, went on to higher learning and are now out on their own. My oldest boy graduated with a Bachelors Degree in Business Management and is now manager of the First Nations Corporation in Whitehorse; my daughter graduated from the RCMP Academy and moved on to the Fishery and Ocean Department - is now married and expecting her first child; my youngest boy chose to be a Dental Therapist and is working with the Department of Health within the school system in the Yukon. My children have been the greatest accomplishment of my life. The nest is now empty except for the odd weekends that they arrive home.

For the past ten years, I have been trying off-and-on to improve my own literacy skills. Four years ago when Sister Angela became director of the Mayo Community Literacy Program, I had to get serious. She wouldn't accept anything else. I have improved. Last year, I received the Canada Post Award for student of the year and a new computer. This gave me a great boost. My involvement in literacy has given me renewed courage, self-confidence, and has motivated me to do many things, such as, taking out a mortgage on a house which I will have paid off in two years time. I am a very ambitious person and one of my great dreams is to become a doctor. Sister Angela says, "Forget it! If I am not dead before you get to be one, you will surely kill me off at my first visit." I guess I will be satisfied to grow old gracefully doing my arts and crafts, crocheting, quilting, doing beadwork, partying and having fun.

[This story was taken with permission, from A Book of Changes, which was displayed at Literacy Action Day, on Parliament Hill. Learners' Advisory Network (LAN) members felt that true stories from learners would make literacy 'come alive' for the politicians who read them.]