Rushing towards Love

Chapter 8

As they walked out to his truck, he held out his arm for her to hold and they shared a companionable silence.  

Jason cleared his throat and said “I really like you too.  I just wanted to make that clear in case you were wondering.” 

“You know what Jason, I like you too.” 

They continued to make small talk on the way to the restaurant.  Once seated and warm with drinks ordered, Jason took a moment to just stare at her. 

“What?” Nika asked. 

“Just admiring the view, it was a little dark in the pub, and I like looking at you.” Nika blushed.  “Thank you kindly Sir!”  she laughed. 

“I can’t take a compliment, I’m sorry, I’ll work on that.”  

“I would like it if you would, because I intend to compliment you a lot.” 

She blushed again.  

“So I have a question.”

“Fire away!”  

“You are wearing those beaded earrings again and they are very beautiful, I can’t help but notice them, but I swear they are different colors this time?”

“Yes, I own several pairs. In all ranges of colors.”  Nika tensed up a bit, she could feel where this was heading and while she wasn’t sure how the conversation would go, she hoped it went positively.  She really liked him. 

“Your aunt again?  Is this her business? Or just a hobby?” 

“It’s her business, but I strongly believe in supporting local and cultural businesses.” 

“Your shirt the other day at the gallery, it said #indigenous. Is that also a part of her business?”

“No.  Jason, I can tell what you are trying to get to here and I’m just going to put it out there because I sense you are struggling with how to ask directly and are unsure how to dance around it.”  She took a deep breath. 

“My family is Mètis, I am Mètis.  I am proud of our indigenous roots and I will proudly wear the items that speak of my upbringing.  This is who I am.” 

“I didn’t want to offend, but you don’t look Mètis.” 

“Jason.” she took a deep breath. “What do Metis look like to you? Or maybe I should ask what do you know about the Mètis.” 

“Well you are First Nations, or aboriginal. Are those the correct terms?” 

“The Mètis are a marriage of Indigenous and White settlers. Usually French Catholic settlers, who came to Canada and were completely unprepared for the wild of the land.  They intermarried to flourish.  I am from the Red River Settlers of Manitoba, in the Winnipeg area.  I am Mètis on both my mother and my father’s side.    We would not consider ourselves to be First Nations.  We are Mètis.  Just like the Inuit are not considered First Nations.  They are Inuit.  Anyways, being of mixed blood, we have just as much of a chance in the genetic lottery of looking white as we do looking Indigenous.  I clearly present as white, but trust me, I am Indigenous.  My cousin looks much more Indigenous than I do, he’s gorgeous.” 

“Ok.”  He nodded, thinking. 

“Are you ok with this?  If you aren’t, that’s fine, we walk away and we don’t see each other again.  I am who I am.”

“NO! No.  I’m ok with this.  I just think I have a lot of learning to do and I’m trying to figure out where to start.”  He looks up hesitantly. “Look I really like you, but I’ve never dated anyone that wasn’t Caucasian.  I’ve never dated someone that has an identity that I don’t understand and it makes me wonder how to not screw it up.” 

She laughed softly. “Not screw it up.  Well ok, I would call this, not screwing it up.  It’s ok to ask questions, it’s ok to be careful to not offend, I can help you figure this all out.  BUT It is not an Indigenous’ persons responsibility to teach you of your ignorance.  I will teach you because you want to learn and you are dating me, but with any other Indigenous person, you don’t expect them to teach you, it’s on you to go out and learn.  This isn’t a sit and wait for them to come to you, it’s you go out and learn the things because it’s the right thing to do, but if you ever have a question, ask me.  I’ll let you know.” 

“Is your culture why you are so close to your family?” 

“Yes.  That being said, I grew up with some German/Ukranian families that are super close at the aunties/cousins level, so you could say it’s a symptom of the prairie lifestyle.  But yes, many of the Mètis families in my community are all super close with the aunties/uncles and cousins.” 

“I’m close with my mom, dad and brother but not that close with anyone else.”  

“You had mentioned that the other night.”  

They settled into a thoughtful silence when the server brought their meal.  They took the time to start eating and just think about what had just happened.  

“Do you speak another language?”

“Yes.  and No.  I speak three, but only English well.  I speak Michif but not very well, I’m learning, my mother and aunties all speak it really well and I’m doing my best, but it wasn’t spoken in the home for me, like it was for my mom and her sisters.” 

“And your third language?”

“Boy you are going to go full speed ahead aren’t you?”

“Sorry! I can quit!” 

“No! It’s all stuff we should probably be talking about at the 3 date anyways, this is the third date? Right?” 

Jason laughed.  “Well yes, I’d like to add ...and counting  to that. “

“Ok third date and counting.”  she smiled. 

She took another deep breath. 

“I also know sign language.”   

“Oh is someone in your family deaf?”  Jason interrupted.  

“Yes.  Me.” 

“What?  No you aren’t.” 

“Yes.  I am.” 

“No way, I’m talking to you right now! You aren’t.” 

“Well let's do this again.  Jason, what does deaf look like to you?” 

“Don’t deaf people, not talk?”

“You mean mute people?” 

“No! Every deaf person I’ve met either doesn’t talk or talks funny.”  

“But funny how? You mean funny like a clown?  Do I amuse you?” 

Jason bust out in laughter.  “I don’t know if I should be turned on or disturbed right now.” 

Nika giggled.  “Ok, I’m legally deaf, however I still have functionality.  I am completely deaf in my left ear, and I have about 10 percent left in my right ear. My mother and aunties, there’s that family closeness again, worked EXTREMELY hard to make sure that I enunciated clearly and talked well.  I lip read and use body language to offset that.  I have no issues with asking you to repeat yourself a few times to get it straight and I think you’ve noticed that.  I also think you’ve unconsciously noticed that I favor an ear, because you make a point of leaning into my good ear to talk to me in loud situations.  Even if you haven’t realised, on a level, you’ve known.” 

“Why was talking clearly so important to them?” 

“If I didn’t function this well in spite of my disability, do you think I would have the job that I have?  The education?  The doctors advocated that my mom send me away to an institution for the deaf.  Do you have any idea how traumatizing that was for her to hear?  Indigenous kids that were taken away and put into residential schools did not fare well, they were abused, they were mistreated, they were alienated from their family and their culture, their clothes were taken away from them, their identities were erased in favor of little Ruths, Franks, Margarets and Vincents.  Whether or not I was taken to a residential school or an institution for the deaf, it still spoke volumes of terror for my family.  It was not an option.”

“Residential schools were hundreds of years ago!” 

“The last residential school was the Gordon’s Indian Residential School in Punnichy, Saskatchewan, Jason.  It closed its doors in 1996.”  She looked down at her napkin, feeling hot, mad and trying to stay calm.

“What? 1996?  No way.” 

She shrugged,  “I’ve taught you, now it’s up to you to do your learning, look it up.  Google exists on your phone, I’m going to finish my steak”. 

She started eating slowly, feeling the slow churn of anxiety, wondering if this was the right path to happiness.  It didn’t feel very happy now. 

She could feel Jason fiddling with his phone.  She didn’t want to look up, she didn’t want to see disbelief in his eyes. 

“Holy shit.”

He sat back in his chair with a creak.

She nodded thoughtfully while she chewed her steak. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

“No.” She said.  “I’m mad at the world that made these conversations necessary, I’m sad that not everything I teach you will be good, or fun or happy, I’m hurt that people hurt my family and my people.  I’m many things but I am not mad at you.” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.”  he said quietly.

“Yeah me too.”