I have always been one of those people who defended
Manitoba. After high school my fellow graduates scattered like panicked
insects, heading far and wide…and mostly west. Western Canada drew these
Manitobans with the promise of less taxes and more pay for labour jobs like
heavy construction and drilling for oil. Some of my high school friends went to
college or university in Alberta and B.C. All the while, I stayed in Manitoba
and scoffed at their “grass is greener” mentality.
It`s beautiful here! I love summer! Look at the fall leaves!
Cross-country skiing is awesome! I love to watch a thunderstorm rolling towards
us across the prairies. You don`t even understand what it is to see the sky
until you`ve stood in a canola field on a summer day. Ìf you`re not from the
prairie… is one of my favourite children`s books by David Bouchard.
Manitobans, read it. It will fill you with such nostalgia you will nearly cry.
Twenty years later I find myself daydreaming about moving
west myself. I wrote this blog series because the main reaction I get when I
tell my friends and colleagues about my plans to move to B.C. is, “What!?
Why!?” And so, this is me…thinking out loud…explaining my flip-flop both to
myself and my loved ones. And also building evidence of my teaching identity
for prospective B.C. employers.
This decision seems sudden to people other than me and my
husband. But when I think about it, this choice has been a long time in the
making.
Ten years ago my parents went through a messy divorce and
sold our family home; a home they had spent my entire life dreaming about,
scrimping for and building by hand. When this home – their home - and their
relationship left my life, it was the first time my sense of home was shaken.
And if this seems sad, it is. If this seems sort of pathetic (since I was
already a grown, married woman with a career and a house of her own) – I think
it is. But I guess that`s where the first chink in the armor was struck.
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