Striving to be a great ‘fishing spot’

This is a story about how an old-school fishing pole connects two things you wouldn’t assume could go hand in hand.

First, it’s been 54 weeks since the Old Bat — my cheeky term of endearment for my mom — passed to join her ancestors.

Second, at a fun-filled gala, an organization I’m affiliated with won the Greater Kitchener Waterloo Chamber of Commerce Not for Profit Award.

How do these two things match up?

About four years ago, before the Old Bat had her stroke and prior to COVID-19, my partner and I would have in-depth conversations with her about the challenges experienced by First Nations — her generation, my generation and the one behind me.

During one get-together, my partner and I discussed the vision of Anishnabeg Outreach.

The Old Bat knew places such as Anishnabeg Outreach — with wraparound services to provide healing, support, understanding and vision for the urban Indigenous — didn’t exist while living her life. She saw this as a path forward, a way to make sustainable and positive futures for many urban First Nations.

As was our habit on many coffee chats, we would talk in analogies to make it easier to understand the big picture, the first-hand realities of residential schools, poverty, racism and the inherent problems with colonization.

An old saying about teaching someone to fish was bounced around, with the vision of Anishnabeg Outreach to not only feed those who were hungry but to provide the skills for people to fish for themselves and their families.

It’s a great comparison because, traditionally, fishing is done to feed a community or oneself, a skill that requires patience, finesse and an ability to read the environment. It also requires quickness, responsiveness and an awareness that the long game still needs to be played.

Four years ago, Anishnabeg Outreach offered fish to those who were hungry.

We had the metaphorical fishing pole. We knew how to feed people. But what if, we mused, we could teach others to fish while they were being fed and cared for?

What if we could wrap the individuals who fished in a sense of community?

Imagine if those who learned how to fish while being fed could now go out and look after others?

The ripple effect would be huge.

As my partner and I updated the Old Bat about our plans for Anishnabeg Outreach’s vision, her eyes lit up and she pointed to something stuck in the wall, telling my partner — who is very tall — to pull an old school fishing tool out of a crack in the wall of her log cabin.

It was given to her by a deceased family member who knew the value of her contributions as a First Nations educator and how she was trying to impact the future.

She told my partner it was time for the fishing “pole” to find its way to its new home, as a tool of connection, to build and be the ripple.

It was a visual cue of community.

Jump to the present and Anishnabeg Outreach continues to grow, educate, inform, support and to be a great “fishing spot” to keep, from a First Nation perspective, the fishing tradition vibrant.

So it was no surprise that the organization was recently recognized by the non-Indigenous community for the great work it is doing.

Anishnabeg Outreach knows it is a great fishing spot. It’s great that others have recognized it as one of the top fishing spots as well.