HAWK& BELL

P U B L I C H O U S E
(Inside Harmony Grill)

Eat Drink Laugh

Burgers, Gourmet Pizza, Pasta, Appetizers, & 11 Beers on Tap 75 Dalhousie St., Harmony Square, Brantford, ON 519-304-8229

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April 2013

This is NOT about Politics

Since the inception of the Advocate, and the humble conversations that launched this publication, there has always been a nagging thought that remains in the back of my head. It is a question that still resonates, and one that has come up in conversation on many different occasions over the past two years or so. It is a question that I think needs to be put to rest now. This thought, this conversation, needs to be put to rest. The question is: is this a publication driven by the politics of an individual party? The answer is the same now as it always has been, an incredibly emphatic no. Its not that I dont understand where the motivations for this question began. After all, Lucas, Marc and I had just finished working together on Marcs 2011 federal election campaign. Our friendship had been forged working long nights together to provide a strong message from a voice that we all thought needed to be heard. So, when Lucas got this idea for a community publication to help change the conversation here in Brant, I was more than happy to work with my friends once again. Around the same time as those initial meetings to discuss the development of this Advocate thing, the political parties started to reign in their troops for the 2011 provincial election campaign. This time however, the three of us went our separate ways on the political trail. You see, I am not a member of a political party. I came to Marcs campaign seeking an opportunity to learn. After ten years as a political reporter, and a stint as a communications intern for MPP Dave Levac while studying at Mohawk College, I wanted to see what a political campaign was like from inside the trenches. Marc and the Brant NDP gave me that chance. But with a communications business up and running, and the need for a new challenge, an opportunity with the Conservatives and Michael St. Amant was the right role for me.

by Andrew Macklin Twitter: @AMacklin

some other peoples stances on a given issue, there were accusations thrown around that we have a publication that is slanted to one political leaning or another. Those accusations however, came from all ends of the political spectrum. But I digress. After the fallout of the 2011 provincial election, questions remained about the issues that were being discussed in the Advocate. The new argument became the types of issues and stories being told, many of which were social or religious in nature. Some people didnt believe that they were important, that certain stories were just personal vendettas that were only being voiced because we had bothered to provide the ink. But the argument failed once again, and those who complained refused to write, failing to recognize their own opportunity to have a voice in a conversation of ideas and thoughtful issues. For a few months, the arguments quieted. Strong voices, which previously had yelled their stories in order for the chance to finally be heard, were indeed heard. They understood the forum that had been presented to them. They saw it as a real chance to have their voices heard. But the naysayers have once again lined up to file their objections to this thing we call the Advocate. They object and descent, bitch and complain, moan and groan, stay angry and grow intolerant. They speak of improper balances of political opinions, discussions of issues that are clearly one-sided, and articles motivated by ill

The question is: is this a publication driven by the politics of an individual party? The answer is the same now as it always has been, an incredibly emphatic no.
That should have ended the conversation about the political motivations of the Advocate. Should have, yet sadly did not. Its funny. At the same time as the provincial campaign, our first edition was launched. The edition featured wellknown voices from across the political spectrum. And yet, since some of the opinions presented did not favour

intentions. But what they dont do is contribute. You see, in order to participate in the conversation, you first have to present your idea or opinion for consideration. You have to be present, be willing to participate, be prepared to have something to contribute. In nearly two years, our publication has reached out to our political figures at all levels, offering them a chance to present themselves, and their issues, and their opinions to our readership. But few have, despite grumblings about the motivations of what we do. They refuse their support, like so many others, despite having the same desire for a more positive and academic level of conversation in Brant. So few take the opportunity we have presented to them; the chance to talk. But the same people have no problem trying to tear this publication of ours down because they question our political motivation. If you are one of those people, consider this a challenge. I challenge you to provide us with something worth printing. Dont bitch, whine or complain because you will never get ink in this publication for that. No one has, and no one will. But rather than continue to provide more to the community discussion of negativity and disgrace that has plagued our city for far too long, provide something to help people understand what created your negativity, what has allowed it to foster, and what our community can do to help work together towards a new solution.

Placing Blame
I wrote this piece near the beginning of the year. It was created for a different publication, and a totally different audience, yet its never felt more relevant or pressing than here and now. In the last few weeks Ive taken note of some of the misogyny within Brantford. Ive overheard loud voices denouncing women in dresses on their way to a bar. She should be more careful. Ive heard insults hurled at random women for no apparent reason. Ive been privy to nasty remarks. The worst however, were comments made by two men in my local coffee shop, discussing a rape in the news. They said, she deserved it. They say there are three rules young women must live by; one, never enter a party alone, two, never leave your drink unattended, and three, never follow a man you dont trust. But lying in that car, the one hed led her to, there was simply nothing to be done; as she drift in and out of consciousness, her pants were ripped off and boys from the party circled the vehicle, leering in and cheering as she was repeatedly raped. She knew some of their names, but the reality they had no interest in helping,

by Leisha Senko Twitter: @leishasenko

washed over in a cold wave of cruel realization. Months later, her transcribed ordeal was entrusted to our twelfth grade teacher, and shared with our class. It was unimaginably brutal, raw, terrifying and yet even this couldnt stop the piercing, redundant whisper, how could she let this happen. Sexual assault, committed by the people around us who feel like safe choices, such as the instance described above, is a crime no one thinks will happen to them, particularly in a university setting. So while the vast majority of tips and tools provided to any undergraduate are aimed more towards warding off shadowy villains of the night (rape whistles and foot patrol services), the chilling reality is that 73 per cent of sexual assaults, according to the Commission on Domestic and Sexual Violence, are perpetrated by someone the victim knows and more disturbing yet, 40 per cent occur in the victims own home. For many young females, these facts make the outlined rules of safety, repeated ad nauseam by well intentioned

security officials, not only unrealistic but also a source of great frustration and guilt. Often these tight parameters, come back to haunt a victim of assault in a number of ways, particularly when large sects of society believe the failure to abide means at least partial culpability. Of course, its clear that safety services, particularly at Laurier, dont intend these warnings to qualify blame. While many of the pointers dictated on the website choose not to use an authoritative voice, and display a large, commendable disclaimer that even if these things do take place, no one deserves to be assaulted, the truth is that this message is often lost. In reality, an entire demographic is totally neglected in rape prevention training, that being men. A number of independent individuals in Waterloo, after a series of posters were released, reminding women of preventative measures, began their own brand that focused on encouraging men to avoid assaulting women. It was intended as tongue in cheek, but it carried a very real warning; if men arent taught that sexual assault is a complex topic, involving familiar faces, and often

gentle rebuttals, universities and society at large will never be able to get this silent crisis under control. Sadly, the instance I described above was never officially reported, just like 90 to 95 per cent of all university and college level sexual assaults. Why, you may ask? Many speculate victims feel theyd made a bad decision leading up to the trauma, and fear being publicly scrutinized because of this. A reservation that doesnt seem so odd in light of feminist scholars like Camille Paglia advocating date rape is the result of sending out mixed signals, or the Toronto police officer who advised women to, not dress like sluts, if they dont want to be accosted. So, while one in five college females will be personally affected, only a small slice will choose to step forward, despite all the warnings and training provided to them. Perhaps nows the time we should refocus our approach, branch out and educate all people, which means mitigating victim shaming. Then, maybe one day a whole generation of girls and women, sitting in our classrooms, can finally be told unequivocally, this isnt just their burden to carry.

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Page 3

El duque de Pars ha sido mi fiel compaero durante los ltimos once aos. Pero, quin es el Duque de Pars? Alias El Duque, Duquito, the Duke, the Dukster. Otro nombre que tengo para l es Houdini, pues el sola ser un artista del escape cuando era un perro joven. Ahora que pienso acerca de eso, el sigue siendo bueno para fugarse. Pero yo he logrado tapar todos los agujeros que haban en el cerco de la propiedad. Tambin tengo algunos buenos vecinos que han sido muy tiles cuando se ha escapado ltimamente. El se ha escapado tantas veces y durante tanto tiempo que la gente de la SCPA ya conoce mi nombre. Al leer sobre las aventuras de Duke uno s e p od r a imag in a r d e y o s o y u n a m o descuidado. Le aseguro que no lo soy. La forma en que Duque entr en mi vida fue bastante peculiar, pero tambin fue una suerte para los dos. Cuando era apenas un cachorro y cuando me lo dieron. l poda caber en mi mano estirada. Como me lo contaron a mi, alguien lo dejo en la puerta de una casa, esta persona se le dio a una de mis compaeras de trabajo. Ella no pudo quedarse con el. Yo le haba dicho a mi colega cuando recibi el cachorro que si ella decida no quedarse con el, me gustara adoptarlo. As que al da siguiente, mi amiga me pregunt si an quera el cachorro, por supuesto, que le dije que s! Ni siquiera pens en la responsabilidad que significa tener una mascota, especialmente, un perro.

Lo primero que tena que hacer era darle un nombre. Primero quera llamarlo Cumpa, que es una forma cariosa de referirse a un amigo. Realmente no me gustaba mucho ese nombre,

seguro de que est enterrado en el patio trasero de la case vieja. Debe ser as porque yo mismo enterr otros perros viejos que murieron cuando yo estaba mas grande. As es como se hacan las cosas en aquel entonces. Es un buen recuerdo de mi infancia que tiene una sensacin agradable. As que para honorar a ese perro, mi perro Duke consigui su nombre. Ahora, el resto de su nombre lo consigui de esta manera. Estaba paseando a Duke un da por la tarde, durante nuestro primer verano juntos. Un hombre y su hijo venian caminando hacia nosotros, cuando ya estaban cerca nuestro, el nio, como cualquier otro nio quiso acariciar al cachorro. El hombre, en un tono de voz que no pareca amable del todo me pregunto "como se llama el perro?", le conteste, Duke. Entonces una gran sonrisa apareci en su ahora amable y brillante cara y me dijo "ah, el Duque de Pars". Y as es como mi perro lleg a ser conocido como el Duque de Pars.

de repente me acord de otro Duque. Recuerdo que yo era muy joven, el hecho es que no era capaz de ponerme de pie por mi cuenta cuando tenamos ese perro. La imagen que tengo en mi mente es que estoy agarrado con ambas manos en un perro viejo. Su pelo era un verde muy oscuro y rubio. Tambin me acuerdo que yo me montaba en el. Ese perro era muy bueno con los nios. No s cmo muri, pero estoy

El pobre estaba infectado con pulgas. As que la primera orden de cosas

era remediar eso. Recuerdo lo indefenso y vulnerable que era. A medida que creca tena que ensearle a ser un perro de casa. As que le un libro sobre cmo entrenar a un perro. Puse papeles en el suelo. Lav el piso con vinagre para que fuera buscando un lugar donde el piso estaba c u bierto de papel. Le prestaba atencin despus de que yo le daba de comer, para sacarlo a que hiciera lo que se supona tenia que hacer afuera. Nada de eso funciono porque el esperaba entrar a la casa de nuevo para hacer lo suyo. Era frustrante. La gota que colm el vaso fue una noche alrededor de las 2:00 a.m. l estaba pidiendo que lo dejaran salir. As que lo hice salir al patio por un rato. Empez a ladrar y a llorar as que lo deje entrar y me dorm de nuevo. El hedor a excremento fresco me despert. As que lo saque de nuevo, lave el piso con vinagre. Lo dej afuera y volv a la cama, pero no pude conciliar el sueo debido a que el Dukster gritaba y lloraba desde afuera. A rato lo deje entrar de nuevo. Tan pronto como entr comenz a orinarse por todas partes. Fue entonces cuando decid que deba tratarlo como a un perro. Le di un susto y eso fue el final de ese problema. A travs de los aos, El Duque me ha enseado mucho acerca de como tener paciencia y determinacin y que se puede hacer casi cualquier cosa si uno es lo suficientemente persistente. Cuando Duke recin llego a vivir conmigo yo sola cocinar para l. Una vez yo quera darle lechuga. l tom la lechuga y la escupi Le puse de nuevo la lechuga en su boca. le acaricie la garganta para ayudar que la lechuga bajara y de nuevo la escupi. La prxima vez me asegure de que la lechuga bajara en su boca lo ms que pude y otra ves le acaricie la garganta. l me dej hacer todo eso, y luego la escupi de nuevo. Me di cuenta en ese momento que Duke definitivamente no le gustaba la lechuga y me rend. A Duke le encanta el aguacate, brcoli, cocido al vapor no crudo y los tomates Hoy en da, ya no cocino para l

por Roberto Salazar

Brantford, a Global City.

by Lucas Duguid Twitter: @sophiasbakery
The Brant Advocate has always been a publication thats worked to bring a new voice to our community. We have brought in faculty from throughout the region which represent our diverse interests. On a personal level, it has always been my desire to bring other languages into the pages of our publication, as part of that new voice for Brant. Its important to remember we live in a multicultural community with many voices. Italian, Hungarian, Vietnamese, Pakistani, Polish, Greek, Ukrainian are just a few of the cultures that represent a vibrant part of this city and we want the Advocate to be the forum where people can share their stories in those native languages. Roberto Salazar, who has been writing for the Advocate, is the first member of our faculty to take advantage of the opportunity to provide us with a story in the language of his homeland. Roberto, who was born and raised in Chile has provided this piece in Spanish for us. We will be publishing an English version of the story on our website in the coming weeks. [www.brantadvocate.com] We would like to make this a regular part of our publication moving forward. If you or someone you know would be interested in sharing a story in a l a n guage other than English let us know a n d t o gether we can show the people of this community that we truly are a global city.

Cuando veo fotos de Duke, puedo ver que se est haciendo viejo. Un da ya no estar conmigo. Un extrao sentimiento de tristeza y de temor me invadi cuando escrib esa ltima lnea. Tal vez, el Duque lleg a mi vida para que yo pudiera aprender a dar y recibir amor incondicional.

90 Morton Ave East Brantford 519.757.1800 www.handcraftedwood.ca

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April 2013

Captain Kindness was an Anorexic Teenage Bully

I used to be very proud that I could reduce even the heartiest soul to tears should I choose to. Especially Christians.

by Dave Carrol Twitter: @davecarrol

I went through a long period of life not liking myself very much. I was the fatish kid. Not the grotesquely obese, sweat through my t-shirt on the walk to school kid, but the kid who had man boobs so hated being "skins" in gym class kid. And poking fun at yourself is easier than hearing others poking fun at you. In the long run, it doesn't hurt any less--you can just control it. As an act of desperate rebellion (ironically) I decided the best course of action was anorexia, good grades and being straight-laced. I figured Id already tried man boobs, and overall lifestyle boobery. So, for about a year of life I ate ice cubes for dinner, did my homework and played nice with others. From my ninth grade student card photo, to my tenth grade student card photo, you'll see over a hundred pound difference. If youve seen my double chin lately, youll know that Ive recovered. I was at my friend's house one night, and had just finished watching an episode of Cheers when his mom asked me if I wanted a brownie. I said that I'd prefer a glass of ice. She placed herself between me and her fridge, and said firmly, "Dave. Eat this." I ate a brownie and haven't stopped since. In fact I had three before Seinfeld came on at 9:30! Just like that I was good 'ole Dave again. I decided pretty quickly that I kinda liked the old Dave better anyway. He ate more,

and laughed a lot. The problem was that Dave version 3.0 had let himself get far more jaded than I had ever expected to be, and I liked myself even less than ever. My "comedy" took a very focused, intentional, ugly turn. Instead of doing my homework at night I'd spend my time strategically analyzing people's personalities, and identifying their areas of personal vulnerability. Wherever they were hypocritical and full of crap, I'd prepare material for class the next day with the sole intention of attacking that weakness with a mean spirited, verbal, comedic barrage that they'd have no answer to. I'm talking "Grade A material too. I was GOOD at this. I still am if I choose to be. I'd go hard, strong and public until I achieved my goal... tears. I used to be very proud that I could reduce even the heartiest soul to tears should I choose to. Especially Christians. They were the easiest, because I had insider information. I knew what they were supposed to be, and I knew what they actually were. The secret was to have so many other people laughing with me that my point would win the public perception game. But I broke, because man cant keep a game like this up for long. There is too much good inside of people. One day I found myself crying in history class during my

sixth year of high school. This was not something that I made regular practice of. A girl, who I recognized from my brother's church youth group, turned around and saw me in my sorry state. She was wearing blue sweatpants and a big woolly sweater. She looked at me with a pregnant pause, as if deciding whether or not to jump off a tall cliff into rough waters or not. Then she said asked me something that I didn't recall anyone ever asking me. She mouthed the words, "do you wanna talk?" I had no good reason to say yes, but I did. Because I did need to talk. So I talked for nearly a month with this very patient girl-who seemingly had a new wool sweater every day. She let me spew out every sort of venomous thought that rolled through my mind (and a few extras just to see how she'd react). It was messy, but she didn't stop letting me talk. It was weird quite frankly. Christian AND Cute AND Normal? We had gone to school together for five years, and had never noticed each other. We were from very different social circles, and had very little in common, but different something was up. One day the talking stopped. Miss Woolly Sweaters decided that enough was enough. She saw Mr. Omnipotent in the room just as clearly as I did, and He was asking

her some serious questions too. After listening to my venom for about ten minutes over the phone one night she said, "Dave it's time for you to choose. Are you going to let God help free you, or not? Theres nothing more I can do. So, this was how it was going to be. And she was right. I wanted her, but I wanted Him more. Two weeks later, I said yes to Mr. Omnipotent. He smiled and hugged me back. Miss Woolly Sweaters was sitting right beside me crying unrestricted tears along with me. Without having to say a word, we knew that we were "together" forever. We went home that night with red puffy eyes, and each others snot on our shoulders. Three years later we stood at the altar. Fifteen years later we have three kids. Today, many people know me as Captain Kindness. Its privately a terrific irony to me, but more than that, its a transformational testimony that points to the fact that no man is beyond redemption in Gods eyes. Most of our negative actions and thoughts often, simply as a result of us not seeing ourselves how God sees us, manifest in lots of different ways, and often hurt more than ourselves. But its base is something inside us. We all have things that lurk in the recesses of our souls. Think youre the only one? Please. Get over yourself. We ALL have them. Today I encourage you to find someone who will stand with you, bring it into the light, and allow it to heal. Its a life-changer. Trust me.

Bully Proof
February 16, 2013 was a day that will go down in the record books; at least for me it will. It was the day that Canadian National Records--(in a specific age and weight division), in the Bench Press and Deadlift events at the third Annual 100% RAW Toronto Open Powerlifting Meet--were set by a Brantford resident. But as much as this could be a sports story, there is a greater life lesson that has come of it. Growing up in the late 60s and 70s I, like many, encountered all sorts of the good ole fashioned bullies that movies are made of. Seems that doing well in class, being slightly overweight and the son of a police officer, put me on just about everyones hit list. Back then bullying was mostly a physical thing, and pretty much accepted by the society of the time. I personally managed to survive what was then considered boys being boys, plus things like being pushed through windows, and put in trash bins to unwillingly inspect the inside of garbage dumpsters. I played a lot of sports in grade school, and had a large growth spurt just before grade eight. Interestingly, becoming bigger and stronger than most of my peers quickly put an end to the physical bullying, but also set me up to become a bully. I would like to think the target of my anger was other bullies, but reflecting back on my life I probably bullied some innocent people too. Now I

by Raymond Knight Facebook: Raymond Knight

realize that the only thing I actually accomplished through it all was making my own life more difficult. The face of bullying has changed dramatically over the last 40 years. Now, many of those that first bullied me would be quickly removed from schools, or even mainstream society if necessary. But the non-physical aspects of bullying live on, and are thriving within the seemingly endless, limitless, and often invisible, internet world with the greatest challenge yet being how we, as a society, can combat it. It is not just teenagers that face this new bullying either. In 2011, being 45 years old, overweight and out of shape (unless you count round as a shape), I went on a diet and dropped from 308 lbs to 255 lbs fairly quickly. I continued on a program of diet and exercise, and found that my body fat percentage dropped even more dramatically than my weight, and I started to feel good about myself again. Then, in the fall of 2012 while discussing an injury I had in the gym, and the positive response our healthcare system had for me, I received some negative comments about my age, weight, etc. Having outgrown the idea that a physical response to being bullied is appropriate, I responded in a different way. Being older and wiser, I realized that using negative comments as a motivator to

make positive changes in my own life was a far more effective weapon. In November of 2012 after being called fat, old, weak well you get the point, I decided to join the 100% RAW Powerlifting Association, and began training as a powerlifter. I had a good base to work from, and with the help of David Gratton, a veteran powerlifter and former Brantford resident, I started training. With the help and support of Brantford based business RPM Magazine, Kreative Khaos, Everything Automotive, Black Heart Designs, Allnaturalhealth.ca, Vegas World, and my employer Sun Life Financial Services, I was afforded the opportunity to put my new training to the test on February, 16. Ill be honest, as exciting as it was to set records within a sport I was relatively new to, I have to say that I enjoyed meeting new friends and showing off the new and improved me as much, if not more. And that really is the point of my story. In todays internet language, haters will hate, and there will always be haters in this world--be it physical or virtual. We are all

sensitive to criticism, it is just human nature, but the choice is ultimately each of ours. We can use their words to pull us down, or as motivation to improve our life, or the lives of others. Just a quick look around our world of today, and we can see the ominous power of negativity, and the impact it can have on individuals and societies as a whole. So why not take this power and turn it into something positive, something for you and those around you--use it to make a change for the good. The bottom line is, does what someone else say or think about you really matter? Not really! Start a new hobby, join a club, do anything, but dont let it pull you down. It wont take long for you to realize that there are far more people that will encourage you rather than bully you, and exposing yourself to those people will make life so much more worth living. When you live life so everyone is either a motivator or encourager, you will be carving out your own future, on your own terms. Surrounding yourself with good people can only lead to good things! Bullying is a small exclusive club that is built on hatred and intimidation, and one that I have no desire to ever be part of again.

Habitat for Humanity is a Non Profit, faith based organization working for a world where everyone has a decent place to live by mobilizing volunteers and community partners in building affordable houses and breaking the cycle of poverty. Habitat for Humanity Brant will be hosting an Information Session for Interested families on Saturday, April 13 from 10:30 a.m. to 12:00 at the Brantford Tourism Centre, (behind Kelseys) Wayne Gretsky Parkway. All Welcome. Refreshments will be served. For more information please call 519-759-8600

A Voice for the Students of Laurier Brantford

Welcome Back, Joseph Ratzinger

A picture spread around the world. Some had seen it before, but the press hardly ran it. It depicts a young German boy with a grim look on his face, and a bird-bearing swastika on his lapel. Later, the name of this man was mentioned and uproar rose. The boy was Joseph Aloisius Ratzinger. On his fourteenth birthday, in 1941, he was forced to enter the Hitler Youth by conscription. As a member of a paramilitary group under the Nazi Party, Ratzinger was trained in the Anti-Aircraft Corps as an Air Force child soldier (Luftwaffenhelfer). When it came time to fight, he fled back to his family home in Traunstein. As of April 19, 2005, the fourteen-year-old Joseph was a well-worn 78 year old man. He had entered a new nation-state, to be sworn into a new job. During this, he received a new name for which he became known globally. That April morning Joseph Ratzinger, of the former Hitler Youth, became known as Pope Benedict XVI of the Roman Catholic Church. Pope Benedict XVI tried to stress the importance to youth that consumerism was not the way of the future. He also tried to form friendships (although some were strained at times) with other world religions such as Judaism, Islam and Tibetan Buddhism (even having the Dalai Lama visit Vatican City in 2006). While visiting the United States of America on his first visit as Pope, he celebrated his 81st birthday at the White House with President George W. Bush, and the First Lady Laura Bush. Not stopping to relax for long, he then visited civilians who had been sexually abused by those in the Catholic Church. He spent some time visiting with families around the area who had children with disabilities. Pope Benedict XVI had a personal connection as his cousin with Down syndrome, was murdered in 1941 as part of the Action T4 campaign of the Nazi Eugenics program.

by Cody Groat Twitter: @Sputnik_News

the current global distribution of Catholics. In the past five years, the continent of Africa has had the largest growth rate of Christianity 21 percent. This growth rate is what leads several to think that Turkson and Arinze have a chance. Either could be the first African Pope. The world thought Obama was big news; I feel this is bigger. Then theres Marc Ouellet of La Motte, Quebec. This is only an eight-hour drive from RCW. When thinking of it that way, its pretty monumental. Ill openly say it here; I dont affiliate with any religion. Yet, I know what this could mean for our country. If the newest Pope were to come from our home and native land, the public eye may look more towards us, which I think is what would be truly beneficial for us. Marc Ouellet is only 68 years old. Being the Pope is a strenuous job. Imagine if you will, starting so relatively young, compared to other Popes, at a job were you are socially bound to work until the day you die. If voted in by the College of Cardinals, Ouellet would not be able to say no. Will one of our own from a little Quebec village of 457 people be mentally ready to stay until he dies? After all, thats the expectation, or at least it was until February 11 when the little fourteen-year-old boy who said no to the Nazi Youth said goodbye to his job as the Pope. So, as we prepare to welcome a new one, its very possible that as we speak the little Bavarian village of Pentling is welcoming back Joseph Ratzinger.

After all, the elderly retire all the time. Yet, to put it simply, the protocol has always been that once elected, you hold the position of Pope until you die. The last Pope who retired was Pope Gregory XII, and he did so July 4, 1415. So, Pope Benedict is the first in 598 years. I hope this adds a bit more context to the importance. Back before he was Pope, when he was only a Cardinal, he spoke of his plans for retirement. He mentioned then that since he was close to the needed Cardinal retirement age of 75, he already had some plans in mind. He stated numerous times to those who asked that he wanted to retire to his house in the Bavarian village of Pentling near Regensburg, and dedicate himself to writing books. Maybe thats his plan now. But some want to know what this means for the church. In particular, if future Popes will retire instead of working until they die, and in regards to who will become the next Pope. Conclave (the election ceremony where the College of Cardinals choose the next Pope) is slated to start on March 19. As always, there are some Cardinals who are believed to be more likely than others to be elected into the role of Pope, and I find a select few of them especially interesting. These three are Cardinal Peter Kodwo Appiah Turkson, age 64, of Ghana, Cardinal Francis Arinze, age 80, of Nigeria and Cardinal Marc Ouellet, aged 68, from Canada. TIME Magazines February issue published a cover story titled The Once and Future Pope. This issue depicts a map of

Pope Benedict XVI had a personal connection as his cousin with Downs Syndrome, was murdered in 1941 as part of the Action T4 campaign of the Nazi Eugenics program.
Pope Benedict XVI brought back the papal attire of bright red shoes, which several thought he had made by Prada, but the shoes were actually made by a private shoemaker. Although, what might come to be the most memorable moment of the 265th Popes papacy is not during his eight years as Pope, but the day he resigned. Due to his, advanced age, and, lack of strength of mind and body, he announced his retirement on February 11 at the age of 87. To those who may not have a fair knowledge of the Roman Catholic Church, this may seem overly important.

The Face that Launched an Internet Revolution

by Layla Bozich Twitter: @Sputnik_News

With Anonymous, there is no authorship. Their claim is no more valid than the individuals claim to existence, a soft, soothing male voice tells me, slightly muffled behind a Guy Fawkes mask, They are simply a spark, but not the fire. Anonymous is composed of people around the world who oppose Internet censorship and surveillance, governmentimposed oppression, and all-around citizen injustice. They claim to be you and me. They have been referred to as anarchic cyber-guerrillas. In their quest to remove censorship from the Internet, Anonymous has attacked the International Federation of the Phonographic Industry, the US Department of Justice, and the Federal Bureau of Investigation after sites such as The Pirate Bay and Megaupload were placed under investigation for providing file-sharing services.

The group has a well-voiced hatred for the Westboro Baptist Church, an independent Baptist church in Kansas that is highly against gay people. In 2011, Anonymous released several videos to combat the churchs preaches against homosexuality. Anonymous also fought Westboros plan to picket the funerals of the victims of the school shooting in Newtown, Connecticut. But with anonymity comes a lack of accountability. According to Laurier Brantford Criminology professor Andrew Welsh, there are two ways to look at Anonymous acts. They are either violating criminal law or they are acting against neoliberalism, the governments practices that take on their own personal interests. Media in Canada are owned by a small number of companies, including Shaw, Rogers, CTVglobemedia, Astral, Newcap, Quebecor, and the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. Because of this small area of representation, the public does

not hear many marginalized views. Anonymous takes the role of providing a venue for people to get messages that are not considered mainstream. Anonymous, though, is still acting like any of Canadas few media companies by picking and choosing what to show the public from their various social media platforms. After the announcement from Westboro in which they planned to picket the funerals, Anonymous released the home and work addresses, phone numbers, and email addresses of members of the church. This is the unfortunate reality in a democracy where you have freedom of expression, says Welsh, People are going to say stupid things and believe stupid things. In some cases, lives have been put in danger due to false information released by Anonymous. After Amanda Todds suicide in 2012, Anonymous worked to release the personal

information of who they believed to be her stalker, only to claim the address of a resident who quickly reported the false accusation to the media. Welsh explains that others should not be punished for the inconsiderate acts committed by one person. The children of Westboro members could potentially be in positions of danger after their personal information has been publicly released. Yet their actions also empower those whose lives are in danger. On November 30, Anonymous shut down websites belong to the Syrian government, a day after the government was believed to have instilled an Internet blackout to silence Syrian civil war oppositionists. In a time where the ways that we can output information are, indeed, being constantly limited by higher authority, Anonymous appears as an Internet vigilante. But just as we were taught not to talk to strangers as children, a group of masked men and women tell us what is and is not wrong with society, and we listen.

YOUR ONTARIO PC CANDIDATE FOR BRANT

VISION VISIONEXPERIENCE

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April 2013

April 2013

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Page 7

Im a Brantford guy.
by Dave McCreary Facebook: Dave McCreary IV
Dave McCreary teaches graphic design, video production and photography at Brantford Collegiate Institute. He has had three solo art shows at the Brantford Arts Block in the last few years, and he has been part of several group shows. He is also the editorial cartoonist for the Brant News. Brantford I'm a Brantford guy. I wasn't actually born here, but I spent my formative years here - in Eagle Place and Holmedale, at Princess Elizabeth School, T.B. Costain, Lansdowne, Joseph Brant and BCI. I loved it. Yet there came a time in my late teens and twenties when I was in complete denial of this fact. And, like so many other Brantford kids, my number one goal in life was to simply get the hell out. And hey, Brantford in the 1980s wasn't exactly the best place to be. Everyone's parents and neighbours were getting laid-off from Masseys and White Farms. The downtown took a nose dive, and even the Alexanders Junior A hockey team left town. But then, ever so gradually, Brantford got better. By the time I moved back, things were looking pretty good. We had a university, the downtown was cleaning up, and strangely enough, the ICOMM telecommunications museum had transformed into a casino. (Which I have now visited twice!) Anyhow, what I'm getting at is that Brantford is not such a bad place, and once I realized this I started creating art that documents its culture and history. My city, and my experiences in it, has become my latest artistic inspiration. The Early Years Like most children, if not all children, I started drawing at an early age. I loved reading and copying the characters from Tintin, Asterix and Garfield books. My dad, Ted, was always drawing and painting back then. He screen printed t-shirts in the kitchen, then cured the ink in the oven. He painted custom motorcycles - flames, skulls, sexy ladies, you name it! I followed suit, silk-screening t-shirts in high school and selling them out of my locker. Then in grade twelve Don Rose gave me a job at City Sign and Display, where I learned the ins and outs of sign making. I learned about fonts, layouts and sign paint. In the following ten years, I worked at other sign shops and print shops around the country, making hundreds or thousands of traffic signs, election signs, neon signs, banners, business cards, flyers, etc. It was not surprising then that my first art shows were based on signage. I painted on leftover real estate signs, I made back-lit fluorescent signs and I created a series of illustrated poems using Photoshop and Adobe Illustrator. Present Day I love telling stories, but I find it confining to work with just text or image, so my art exhibitions always combine both. My current show at the Brantford Arts Block (Portraits of Inconsequence, starting April 5) features a series of portraits drawn with ballpoint pen and coloured with tea and ink. They tell the stories of fictional Brantferd personalities from the 1880s to the 1980s. They feature local daredevil, James 'Eager Kabeaver' Jonah, who famously (under) performed at the Paris Fair; 'The Edison Twins', tag-team jobbers in the Brant-Norfolk International Wrestling Federation; Weston Lyle MacDervy, the leader of (and sole participant in) the Grand River Rebellion of 1877; and several other noteworthy people along the way. The show will also feature a gigantic wall of portrait sketches that I have been drawing on scraps of paper for the last few years. Im hoping it will provide a needed element of improvisation in comparison to the carefully planned and executed framed portraits.

Illustrations by Dave McCreary. Layout by Lucas Duguid.

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April 2013

Magnetoception Economics and other Quirky Theories

Did you ever feel like you were wasting your time? It might have been quite enjoyable, as in watching a movie, or playing a video game. Or, perhaps you embarked on a project with no beneficial purpose other than gaining money. Last, you might have participated in building a house, or worked in an industry that produces food for people. We seldom apply the necessary descriptions to the various forms of economics we engage in, and tend to group most of them together; summarizing human activities under the general heading of economics, which in our minds is skewed to mean involving money or fiscal economics. That is not to argue against a sound fiscal economy, which is important to the prosperity of the human condition, but to recognize that money or currency is an imaginary weight that we arbitrarily assign to different activities in order to create order in our society. Likewise, we have laws that are both incentives and deterrents to behaviours that are perceived as either good or bad. It is an unspoken truth that most of what we do in our lives is a waste of time. An old superlative--time is money--is a little over the top given that time is real, and money is a product of human imagination. Nonetheless, we all work away at whatever task society seems to assign us giving up our time in exchange for the money that keeps ourselves, and our loved ones, cozy and fed. Applying mathematics to economics is beyond most of us, and beyond a basic budget. Even though this writer is quite capable at engineering math, I will admit that advanced ideas such as Game Theory, heavy with integral calculus, escape me. The famous economist John Keynes likened the flow of money to the flow of water, thus his pump-priming theory which emphasizes the need for governments to step in during weak economic times to provide cash in order to get new businesses primed towards becoming self sustaining. The Americans did this on a huge scale in Europe after WWII with the Marshall plan, which I will discuss later. As an electrician, (although I am known to do quite a lot of plumbing as well) I like to think of economics in terms of the only slightly more complicated electrical math, which is easily done by assuming the lowly electron is a unit of currency; let us say a dollar. Mind you, the power held by an electron is a real world energy, whereas the energy of a dollar is a function of human belief. Basic DC electrical math is pretty much identical to the math which could be used to calculate water flow. Volts compare well to pressure; current is the same as flow, and resistance is a restriction (such as the pipe size) to flow. History shows that the international economy has up and down cycles every decade or two, so DC electrical math, as the theory goes, cannot be used for predicting long term events. AC electrical math introduces some very significant differences to power calculations; namely inductive reactance and capacitive reactance, which can cancel one another with the leftover reactance adding to the resistance of a circuit. It sounds complicated, but in reality, any child who can calculate the hypotenuse of a right angled triangle can calculate reactance. If you are bad at math throw on headphones with a little AC/DC Thunderstruck playing, and read on. The bottom line in AC electrical math (or economic activity if you like) is that there are three types of power in any circuit: true power, inductive reactive power and capacitive reactive power. True power is the most efficient application of energy, while inductive and capacitive powers actually waste a lot of energy in the creation of magnetic and static electric fields respectively. Reactive power in electrical systems creates electrostatic (capacitive) and electromagnetic (inductive) fields. They cancel one another out--just like borrowing and lending entities in an economy with lagging and leading power factors. Confused yet? Me too sometimes. Just understand that reactive power wastes both electrical and economic energy. In a word analogy, true power would be produced by a working activity that achieves an ultimate human goal; for instance, an activity that extends and enhances human existence; not in the myopic sense for the benefit of one individual person, but rather work which empowers the human race. Some countries might think true power is having a military as a deterrent from being attacked, while others would recognize true power through the sharing of resources via trade as a route to global peace, cooperation and prosperity. Ultimately our newest modern ideology recognizes the defects in our high rates of consumption, therefore any activity which recycles, reuses and replenishes, leads to true power. I will admit that applying electrical mathematics for calculating AC cycles to the human condition is more of an art than a science. Still, we take for granted the day-night cycles and the winter-spring-summer-fall cycles, in spite of having worked their patterns into human behaviour for thousands of years. There is only one regular event that we are routinely exposed to, spanning the decades of our lifetimes, that might somehow sync with longer human economic cycles, which can average more than a decade apart. It would definitely be a leap of faith for most people to recognize that the solar inversion sunspot cycle could have an influence on human long term activity, but if you are going to believe in economic cycles there is no other event that comes close to measuring up. Most people have heard of sunspots and the Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis). Few people understand the massive event that is really occurring. Approximately every eleven years our sun completely inverts its North and South poles around the period of the solar maxima when sunspots occur. Scientists often refer to the effects that sunspots produce on the earth as a geomagnetic storm which can hit us if the sunspot is aimed directly at the earth. Sunspots can cool our weather, knock out satellites and trip the breakers on two hundred thousand volt power lines. Only a few of the thousands of sunspots that occur every cycle produce corneal mass ejections (CME or highly

by Randy Schelhas Facebook: Randy Schelhas

charged particles) that actually aim at, and hit the earth--usually around 100 hours after the sunspot is seen. The magnetic storms of the solar maxima may also have an effect on people; not as much as the day-night cycle or the seasonal cycle, but an effect all of the same. There is some science behind the idea that people can be influenced by the sunspot cycle in the field of magnetoception. Wikipedia reports that magnetoception is a sense which allows an animal to detect a magnetic field to perceive direction. Magnetoception has been observed in bacteria. It has also been commonly hypothesized in birds, where sensing of the earth's magnetic field may be important to the navigational abilities during migration; fungi, insects (including fruit flies and honeybees), and animals such as turtles, lobsters, sharks and stingrays. Magnetic bones have been found in the human nose, and we also have a magnetosensitive protein, which has been found in the human eye, again per Wikipedia. That does not mean that the higher functioning human brain is influenced by everyday magnetic fields, however the sudden overwhelming impact of a magnetic storm, and a wave of solar plasma being ejected into the earth's path, might very well cause a temporary state of misdirection and reorientation in people. A magnetic storm (corneal mass ejection from a sunspot) can strip away large parts of the earth's magnetosphere, creating a days long magnetic disorientation to all living creatures on the planet. I believe that this is the natural behavioural source of the alternating economic cycle that we observe in our up and down economy. Observing the theory of a relationship between economic cycles and sunspots isn't easy because the historic data can be affected by many factors. There are recessions that both lead and lag sunspot peak years. Recessions were far more frequent and severe prior to 1945, a period when many countries still adhered to the rigid gold standard leaving little room for monetary easing or stimulus. When the massive WWII debt was paid, and the Marshall plan was enacted in 1947, we provided Billions of dollars to rebuild post-war Europe. That money was literally created out of thin air by the participating governments, finishing the inefficient gold standard for good. Since then, both the frequency, severity and the number of recessions have decreased. As theories go, the analogy between electrical math, solar cycles and economic cycles, is a strange one. Still, it is a reasonable, if unproven, hypothesis given that CMEs from sunspots can hit us a bit randomly, and there are many other variables (ie. the gold standard) that can affect the economic cycle. Realistically, fiscal economics is an art form, bounded by the rule of law rather than being an exact science. Still, the massive magnetic polarity changes of the sun with sunspots that blast away the earths magnetosphere cannot be written off as having no effect upon human nature--a nature that still flusters, confuses and reorients us at the best of times.

THE (UNILATERAL) APPLICATION OF THE MINOR INJURY GUIDELINE ?

As outlined in previous articles significant changes were made to the Insurance Act and went into effect September 1, 2010. These changes were very significant for persons injured in motor vehicle collisions because they included the introduction of a Minor Injury Guideline which capped treatment entitlements to $3,500.00. Further they included important changes as to how and when treatment providers would be paid for treatment and treatment plans. The Minor Injury Guideline was specifically intended by the legislature to have limited application. Two significant limits were expressly imposed upon the application of the Minor Injury Guideline. The first limit was that the Minor Injury Guideline should not apply where a claimant by virtue of their pre-accident health history faced significant barriers to recovery which would mean that the $3,500 allotment for assessment and treatment would be insufficient to fund optimal treatment. The second important limit was that the Minor Injury Guideline should have no application beyond the acute and sub-acute phases of recovery. While the meaning of acute and sub-acute is not specifically defined in the statute their terms are medical terms and are defined in various medical literature. Generally speaking it would be seem by definition that the acute and sub-acute phases of recovery end between 4 and 6 months post incident. The practical issue facing accident benefits is what remedy do they have if they are in the Minor Injury Guideline and what can they do to get their injury out of the Minor Injury Guideline. As treatment providers will not be paid for completing treatment plans if the person is in the Minor Injury Guideline they generally will not prepare additional treatment plans beyond the $3,500.00. They may also suggest that after the $3,500.00 is used up the claimant should fund the treatment from personal resources. This would seem to defeat the purpose of paying an insurance premium based upon being able to access up to $50,000.00 of medical rehabilitation benefits and would create an obvious hardship for motor vehicle accident claimants. This scenario would also result in the insurer's being unjustly enriched. Some insurers are suggesting that the legislature has created a two tier system and that only after the MIG allotment has been used will they look at authorizing treatment beyond the $3,500.00. Clearly this is not the type of regime contemplated by the specific wording of the legislation and as treatment providers will not be paid for treatment plans unless the insurer agrees they will remain reluctant to complete treatment plans for persons who are in the Minor Injury Guideline. As the legislature did not specify how a person was supposed to get out of the Minor Injury Guideline if they disagreed with the insurer one would suppose that the usual procedure would be followed: i.e. apply to the Financial Services Commission of Ontario for a mandatory mediation and if this was unsuccessful apply either to the court or to FSCO for an arbitrator to make a determinations as to whether the Minor Injury Guideline should apply. Strangely enough the Financial Services Commission is apparently taking the position that the Minor Injury Guideline is not the appropriate subject of a mediation as it is not technically a "benefit" in dispute between the parties and is refusing to mediate the issue. Insurer's however are taking the position that the claimant cannot sue as they have not participated in a mandatory mediation. Not unlike the issue with the delay at FSCO claimants are once again being told that they have purchased insurance benefits which they cannot access and there is apparently nothing whatsoever they can do about this situation. FSCO and the insurers seem be oblivious to the fact that the insurance legislation is properly characterized as consumer protection legislation. The courts will once again be called upon to intervene to ensure that the rights of injured persons and insurance consumers are not oppressed and are adequately protected by due process.
Lisa Morell Kelly Morell Kelly Personal Injury Law 515 Park Road North Brantford, Ontario N3R 7K8 (519) 720-0110

Ressayez: The worst word in the French language

Ressayez: if youre thinking Ive seen that word before, you may be a loser. Literally. This is precisely why its the worst word in the language. Ressayez (actually RESSAYEZ) is the word that seems to jump off the cup - yes, cup. If youre not picking up what Im putting down yet, you may be too caffeinated. And that too will probably make you a loser. Still not following? Before I infuriate you away from reading, ressayez is part of a message that translates into Please Play Again; three words none of us like, but we all see too much of. Tim Hortons is a Canadian staple, and their very famous Roll Up the Rim to Win contest is back, along with a seemingly disproportionate number of Ressayez cups. Winners (apparently) can win 40 Toyota Rav4s, 100 $5,000 MasterCard prepaid cards, 1,000 Napoleon Grills, 25,000 $100 Tim Card, and food prizes; a coffee or (my most commonly won item) donut. Actually, they claim the prizes exceed $54,000,000 which seems amazing in lump sum (one must wonder, then how much do they make?). Regardless, if you win one of these first four prizes, you must download and complete the form online. And just to clear up a myth, the website claims if you happen to land a Rav4, you actually do win ownership, not just win a lease. (Did you know that technically you need a drivers license to be able to win the RAV4? Well, you do. I have one though, and it hasnt helped me thus far). A WIN COFFEE or LATT can be redeemed for any size of any hot beverage. If you have a sweet tooth, and you can find a location that still makes the English Toffee Cappuccino, I dont think youll be disappointed. And even better, a WIN DONUT can be redeemed for a muffin if you so choose! Or even a cookie. But not a bagel (what do you think this is, The Price is Right). You can try though for a bagel, but unless the IN-TRAINING distinction appears on your cashiers name tag, you probably wont get one. You may not with the trainee, either.

by Jesse Ferguson

Interestingly enough, No Purchase Necessary To Play. In Canada, obtain a free Tim Hortons contest cup by writing to Tim Hortons Contest Cup, P.O. Box 9167 Saint John, N.B. E2L 4Y2 (I dont think Tim Hortons is going to be sponsoring The Times since I am disclosing that tidbit not to be confused with Timbit, which cannot be won). Odds are one to six, or so they claim. Or maybe youre not the loser of this game, and its just me. I kind of doubt it though. You dont hear of many people bragging about their winning streaks. At least, not yet. Maybe I should be happy just playing, which means I dont live in Rhode Island, Arizona, Hawaii, Florida, Alaska, Puerto Rico, where its, prohibited by law. The contest closes April 26, or whenever their 260,959,849 marked cups are gone whichever happens first. So get yours now! Be one of the 43,493,308 winners. That number doesnt even seem right. So, maybe it is just me who cant buy one and win. So I have a better idea, why dont you buy one for me? We can trick the system. Players who see Ressayez should remember the following: although this contest is primarily a promotion (to make money, like all promotions do, really) they dont have to do this. Its fun, and you have a chance (perhaps a small one perhaps a very small one) to get paid back for all the coffees you buy. A WIN or a GAGNER (which is probably the best French word) should just be considered a bonus. So, if youre a loser, PLEASE PLAY AGAIN.

Just so you know, if you do actually win, the last day to claim a prize is May 19, 2013.
Just so you know, if you do actually win, the last day to claim a prize is May 19, 2013. Or you can try to see if they accept it after - sometimes they let it slide. Or, let the winning tabs hold down residence in your wallet until next year. But warning, they will eventually disintegrate from all those nasty pennies (which you may not have to worry about for long, but the other coins still provide the same problem). Also, every so often, Tim Hortons does change the style of their cups from year to year to catch guys like me. However, it may just reflect the bitterness of the cashier whether they accept it or not.

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Ten Years Since Goodbye

It has been over ten years since my maternal grandfather passed away. He was the only grandparent I ever knew. I don't have warm fuzzy memories of him, but rather tough, crusty, cranky old man memories with constant lectures that only an old world man could give me. My grandfather emigrated here from Slovakia with his family - which was a beginning that he chose to discard in his adult life - by forgetting his language, and changing his name. This was in stark contrast to my paternal family. I knew I was Polish before I was five without any comprehension of nationalism, or even that countries existed. I just knew that Polish was part of being a Sinkowski. My grandfather was a stereotype of the immigration experience. He worked tiring hours, had two jobs, and was very giving, while simultaneously setting high expectations of all those around him. He rose above, and all that other heartwarming stuff. He didnt have much room for those that he felt did not help themselves. He bought a bankrupt hardware store in Port Dover in 1955. I am not sure if he really knew what he was doing, but he made it work. He even survived a fire in 1963. He worked long days in the store, building it both in clientele and physical space, and then spent his evenings repairing televisions. The last years of his life were spent traveling the world, after spending forty years working 18 hour days. He never went back home, dying a month before he planned to go back. For me, my grandpa and the store are interchangeable pieces of my identity and history. I cannot begin to pull them apart so they can breathe their own life, because they are one and the same. I had to start working when I was six, and when I say had to I don't mean someone forced me to work; I just knew that was part of being family. It was not a conscious decision. I would help bring in the outside display every night. I was not paid until I was much older. It wasn't all fabulous and glorious it was mostly hours of dusting, pricing hose clamps, and cutting keys. Sometimes it was fun stuff like doing inventory in the dirt cellar where the rats lived, to get ammunition to stock the shelves. Little ten year old me carrying 40 lbs in a wooden crates of ammunition up the stairs, all while dodging cat size sewer rats, and not batting an eye like this is what happens to all my peers. I remember my grade eight teacher asking me what I meant in my daily journal when I said I worked every day after school.

by Carrie Sinkowski

I looked at him like he had ten heads. What else would I mean except that I work at our store? I never talked back to him, save the one time when I was six years old and he gave me an Eeyore plush toy in lieu of Copper from Fox and the Hound. Every kid has that moment when they realize the adults in their life are human. For my mum, I was five and it was when she could not remember how to spell the name of our county, and for my grandpa it was that he didnt know a donkey from a dog. I was so upset with him and told him just how I felt. I worked there until I was 26 and finished university, and had started to work at the Sexual Assault Centre. I was racked with guilt. I felt like I was letting down my family as well as losing a piece of my identity. A few years later, my uncle sold our store. I cried. My sister and I had both completed post secondary, and had jobs in our fields. My uncle never thought we would want to take over the store because the whole point of us working ten hour days, seven days a week all through high school summers and post secondary breaks, was to put us through university and get us into jobs in our interested fields. There have been few things in my life that I have wanted as much as that store. I was part of that store. My history and identity was being the hardware store girl. Which is odd, because there was a time when I wanted nothing to do with it. I hated it so much when my mum would make me go to work after school, and when I would miss fun beach days with my friends. I would cry when my grandpa would make me dust the same shelf every week, and I was overjoyed when I was 11 and my grandpa said I swept left handed and was banned from sweeping. I wasn't too happy when I worked 14 hour days during inventory time which for us was in August, or when I had to put up with obnoxious men who made crude hardware related comments. All that being said, every time I went to work I could feel in the dirty cracked floors, and in the buzzing lights, that the store was my second home. I have never thanked my grandfather for everything he gave me. He taught me a strong work ethic, but the most important thing he taught me he didnt even mean to teach me. He taught me by example. I was never going to work my life away. I feel people romanticize folks after they pass. Yes, my grandfather

was giving. He made me work my ass off every summer so I could pay for university, but he also helped me pay my tuition because the wage he paid was not enough to cover the whole fee. But he was also the cranky old man in town. We had customers that knew his work schedule, and would only come in during his breaks. It was not uncommon for him to ban people - for life obviously. The last time I worked with him was three days before he had a stroke. He spent five minutes yelling at a man for having the audacity to ask him where the garden hoses were, while he was busy changing the lightbulb in a flashlight. The man was new to Dover. This was what I loved most about my grandpa. Not every little girl has a grandpa that kicks a man out of his store for mistakenly calling a female coupler a male coupler. That man was issued a lifetime ban. He refused to recognize that the municipality changed our street number from 314 to 322 making it very confusing for couriers. He picked the oddest battles. It made me laugh, and it made me love him. If he had ever told me he loved me or been sweet to me, I would have been flabbergasted. The cranky old man yelling on the phone at the County Councillor about how dusty our store was because of street construction, and how he would send them a cleaning bill, that was my preferred grandpa. Despite his crankiness people seemed to get him. I was overwhelmed at his funeral. Almost every face I ever saw walk through the door at our store was there. My grandpa was a supporter of community projects, and you could see that reflected in the attendance. When my dad came with the rest of the fire department in full dress uniform I thought I would crumble, bringing to me the realization that our store was more than just a place to buy paint and grass seed. It was a place where people caught up, or if you were down on your luck, we would look after you until you could pay us back. Stories were always being told in there, and as much support as we could give to local causes was always being given. It was one of many mini-hubs in town. Everyone in Dover that lived there, prior to ten years ago, has a Stoney story. Some are lucky enough to have several. In a very bizarre way what that says to me is that my little town has a strong sense of community. Supporting local businesses is important because you are not just supporting jobs, but a way of life. Your money is not just going to some overly rich person in some place far away, its staying in your community and helping to build and support it. Local businesses bring people together, and give them a common piece of identity and history.

Saving is an everyday part of life.

Whether for retirement, education, that new house or collectible widget, saving helps us achieve our financial goals. The question of where we save is topic we are addressing over the next few issues. In the eyes of the Canada Revenue Agency (CRA) there are three vehicles that consumers can save in; Registered, Non-Registered & Tax Free. All have a defined purpose and all should be considered by investors in creating a sound financial plan that will help you achieve whatever goals you have. In this issue we wish to discuss the newest savings vehicle, the Tax Free Savings Account. Better known as the TFSA, it was introduced in 2008 and serves a defined role for personal savings as it allows for tax free savings. These savings can be used for short and/or long-term goals such as education, vacation, home purchase or even to supplement retirement income. As for rules theres only a couple that need to be understood. Starting January 2013, an individual 18 years old or older can deposit up to $5,500 / year. This is an increase from $5,000 in previous years. Any contribution over this amount is subject to taxation so owners should monitor their deposits carefully. Any withdrawals can be replaced within the same year only if you have contribution room left. If you do not have the room, then you can make up the withdrawal at the start of the following year. For example, if you withdraw $25,500 in 2013 then you cannot make another deposit until January 2014 where you will have $31,000 ($25,500 + $5,500) contribution room available. One advantage of TFSAs, other than the non-taxable growth, is the fact that any unused contribution room is carried forward indefinitely. Therefore, if you have not made any TFSA contributions then you have up to $25,500 of available room in 2013. This carry forward has great advantages when it comes to planning your financial goals. Coupled with RRSPs and Non-Registered savings, the TFSA can be a very powerful and tax effective tool. Lets review the different savings vehicles and where their tax consequences lie; RRSP - The tax deferred savings advantage of an RRSP is a very powerful option in your working years but since 100% of each withdrawal is subject to taxation, the consequence lies at when you take the money out. Also keep in mind that excess withdrawals could put you in a higher income tax bracket and affect your government pensions. Lump sum withdrawals for trips and such should be thought through and discussed with your financial advisor. Non-Registered Savings The tax consequences could occur at withdrawal or annually if there are any distributions within your investments. The key here is your tax could be considerably less than your RRSP if invested properly. Tax Free Savings Account (TFSA) The tax consequence is now since you dont get to write your income down as you would on an RRSP. However, withdrawals will not increase your income and will not affect your government pension benefits. Once again we feel strongly that savings and goal planning are areas where professional advice is a necessity. I certainly hope we were able to shed some light on the advantages & disadvantages of the different savings vehicles available to you as a consumer. If you wish to talk about your financial goals and how we can help you achieve them give us a call, were here to help. Alford & Associates is a family owned and operated financial practice in Brantford. For over 25 years we have helped our clients secure their financial goals. First and foremost we help you secure your greatest asset Your Family

Snapshots from Brantfords Roundtable on Poverty

by Becca Vanderkemp, Twitter: @Beccavdk and Jocelynn Blacker, Facebook: Jocelynn Blacker

Its not as if she had intended to lose her temper at the group home staff member and punch him in the face, but it had just been a terrible day and he was getting on her nerves. Perhaps it wasnt a surprise that she had gotten kicked out of the group home for what might be the last time. Kate set down the reusable grocery bags containing most of her worldly possessions to take a break from her long trudge to the end of town where some of her family lived. She couldnt even take everything with her since she lost her bus pass. She thought through her options. Only God knew where her mom was. Her crack cocaine binges left her off the map for months at a time. Dad was still way the heck up north, and her aunt wasnt letting Kate stay there anymore because there was no room now that she had her two kids and little nephew living there. Last time she stayed at her friends, there was a party and someones roommates friend took off with her phone and weed. Maybe she could stay at her exs. Yeah, that sounded good. He lived over near her aunt, too. It would probably be too far to make it to school, but who likes school anyway? Nope, she could just chill at her exs for a few days and make some cash being a shooter girl if her old boss would take her back at his bar. She picked up her bags and continued on her way. She lit a smoke, just for the hell of it. Hey, youre only sixteen once! * * *

interesting was going on. He pulled out his western novel, one of his favourites, and continued his reading. It was still another hour before lunch at the church by the park. He was going to have leave soon though if he was going to get enough to eat. The dinner program that day was just too far from downtown. The walk would be unbearable with the weather the way it was. Some days, what he firmly believed was bone cancer, caused him so much pain that he couldnt even get to the programs that ran only blocks away. Those were usually after days after it had rained all night. From his cardboard bed behind KFC, his exposure to the weather really determined what his next day would look like. Today was a pretty painful day. Hopefully hed collect enough money to afford some liquor. Booze seemed to be all thatd take the pain away these days. It was dumb, really. When you need to drink for a legitimate reason, you shouldnt be held to the same rules. They kicked him out of the shelter anyway though. They didnt care that he had cancer. Slowly he stood, holding his bag to his chest tightly. He couldnt risk losing his possessions. You gotta hold whats dear to you near to you if you want to keep anything in this world. * * *

Poverty affects food security, health, employment, education, income security and housing. In addition to hindering a persons ability to sustain the necessities of life, it often snuffs out hope. The Brant | Brantford Roundtable on Poverty (BBROP) is one of several organizations in the city that strives to eliminate poverty. The BBROP uses a unique approach to raise hope: it brings stakeholders, politicians, and agency representatives together to discuss poverty issues in an inclusive environment. After discussion comes action. Through representation on community committees, at awareness events, and conferences, long-term goals for poverty reduction are made. Recent achievements include participation in the formation of the Community Garden Project, spearheading the Harvest Noon event, raising the issue of poverty in election debates, and even representing Brantford and Brant County at a province wide meeting on Social Services Cuts. The BBROP presents this article, along with other articles to follow, in order to break down misconceptions about what poverty truly is. This issue, we have chosen to briefly discuss the complex issue of homelessness by sharing snapshots into the lives of fictional but realistic characters. We believe that, in addition to shedding light on the complexity of poverty, in order to truly make meaningful changes to poverty issues, systematic approaches that involve stakeholders and community members are essential. The BBROP gives everyone the opportunity to resources, voice concerns, learn about issues in our community which shape how we live, and have ideas represented where it can make the most amount of change. The BBROP builds hope by making meaningful changes and empowering people.

ALFORD & ASSOCIATES INC

Insurance & Investment Advisors 254 Brant Ave., Brantford, ON N3T-3J5 Ph: (519) 751-0901 Fx: (519)751-0522 Cell: (519) 758-4224 Email:mike@alfordandassociates.ca Website: www.alfordandassociates.ca LinkedIn: http://ca.linkedin.com/in/mikeeh

Jim liked to stay under the radar. He wasnt looking for any trouble. He just wanted to keep warm so his arthritis didnt bug him so much. Some people walked by, but not much else

While Kate and Jim are fictional characters, their stories represent some of the elements of poverty that exist in our community. For Kate the journey to poverty started when she was born into a low-income family. Jims introduction to poverty began when he found himself unemployed late in life. Jim and Kate show us that poverty is a complex issue that has many causes and factors that continue to fuel the cycle of poverty.

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www.brantadvocate.com Facebook: The Brant Advocate Twitter: @BrantAdvocate

April 2013

Tales of a Small Business

Many people warned me that it wouldn't be easy. Most small businesses go under within the first couple of years. With a young family, it's especially tough because being successful requires long, unpaid hours of marketing and finding new business, all while paying for daycare. How could it be possible with a spouse who works long, unpredictable hours? With no local family to pitch in? When we began, professional organizing was in its infancy. Back then, people didn't know what a professional organizer did. This was before TV shows like Hoarders made our work mainstream. Now in its fifth year, Alex the Organizer is going strong. I credit the business success, in large part, to my supportive husband Tim. He was the one providing encouragement when times were lean in the beginning. He pushed me not to give up when a business advisor told me that there was no market in Brantford for our service. He uncomplainingly rearranges his work as much as he can to accommodate any late night meetings or weekend workshops I arrange in order to be home for the children. I guess I often take for granted having

by Alexandra Felsky Facebook: Alexandra Felsky

Another reason for our early success is the mentorship and camaraderie of many other small business owners in our community. It's not until you are a small business owner that you understand the pride of knowing that your countless hours of unpaid work have resulted in a business that not only provides a much needed service to help improve people's lives, but also creates work for other people. I am especially proud of that. I am often called by new potential organizers about work opportunities or for information about how to start a new business. I like that there is a sense of cooperation among organizers; we know there is lots of business to go around. I enjoy giving back by mentoring new organizers. As our family has grown, so have the challenges with scheduling our respective work. But so too have the rewards increased. Tim and I share parenting duties as well as caring for our families' needs. We each get to experience the satisfaction of being capable co-parents to our sons. It has been a great gift to have a partner who believes in me and unfailingly supports my endeavours. Tim and I rely on being well organized to ensure that our household runs smoothly. In fact, it is often the skills that the business teaches our clients that save us at home! When we cater to busy families, we really, truly get it! Leaving for an evening meeting is not always easy after a day of work but our five year old gets it. Ask him what his mum does for work and he'll proudly tell you, She helps people. The adventure of starting and running a business with small children has also broadened and strengthened our community ties. We chose Brantford as a place to raise our children, and to start this business because of its central location to neighbouring communities, its size and its natural beauty. Little did we know what a truly welcoming place it is. The business community in Brant is a small one and it seems that everyone is inter-connected in several ways. Joining the Chamber of Commerce allowed me to connect with many other business people. I've made friends, facilitated connections between other businesses and I'm proud to call myself a Brantfordian. Thank you Tim, Nathaniel and Leopold, and especially to Brantford, for opening up a world of possibilities to me, to my business and to our family.

a partner who was open to me choosing to take the path less traveled. He stepped into the role of problem solver to make it possible.

As our family has grown, so have the challenges with scheduling our respective work. But so too have the rewards increased.
Sure, there are days when we each think that it would be easier if we each had nine-to-five jobs, or any local extended family to help with childcare, but at the end of the day, when passion guides you, the tiredness, long hours and time away from family are small costs to pay for all the benefits of being self-employed. With each new client and each referral to someone they know, it reaffirms the importance and the need for this work.

The Integrated Shaman: Teachings of the Bubble with Oz

It is my estimation that this article is long overdue. He needs to be known, discovered, appreciated and valued. Those close to him often forget the magical space that he creates. Oscar De Los Santos is the man that sees the imperceptible, hears the unheard and thinks the unthinkable. Humble in his majesty, he is a king in pauper's clothes, a scientist in a laboratory, and an inventor in his workshop. He is an undiscovered treasure; a hidden jewel in the community. The stories that I could write about Oz are varied and many. I could write about the time I was whisked away to the forge, where iron was shaped, and the fire burned white. I could write about the time we were all out Chaga hunting, and I became the tree hugger. What a great time that was! There are so many stories I could write, like the time we all ate fire, but today I will write about the spiritual bubble, big and strong enough for a grown adult to stand in. Many of us have heard the expression burst my bubble. This is a story of the freedom I experienced when my bubble was burst. In his study of platonic solid, and his quest for sacred geometric understanding, Oz created the perfect bubble solution. He wanted to see the way in which a bubble would form a platonic solid. While he was going on about geometric configurations, Oz failed to see the amazing bubble solution that he had created. It was a super solution! Generous and fun loving, Oz gifted a batch of the Oscarito Special to the girls, who went absolutely nuts for the supreme bubbles. I, myself stood inside one of these monstrous bubbles. What an experience! It was at the same time physical and mental, as it was emotional and spiritual. Once Oz pulled the bubble from my feet over my head, and down my back, I stood immobile within its walls. Still within the thin iridescent skin of the bubble, with the warm sunlight on my own skin, I lost myself in the experience. All of Oz's musings are spiritual in essence and this was no different. As I stood fascinated in my own little bubble, Oz stood outside, and with a sneaky look in his eyes, and without notice he burst my bubble! A bubble is beautiful and light. It is soft, gentle and innocent. A bubble cannot last forever. And because of its fragility, it is meant to be popped, so it too can be set free. As he stood smiling Oz burst my bubble and together we burst out laughing as I experienced freedom. Bursting my bubble removed one veil separating me and a larger reality. What a meaningful experience, I tell you. The bubble teaches a deep spiritual understanding. It is but one layer through which we see. Whether it is an actual physical bubble, or it is the bubble of our life's experiences, it limits the experiencing of Universal Consciousness.

by Gabriela Boskovic Facebook: Gabriela Boskovic

Oz is a teacher, poet, scientist, writer, philosopher and artist in the whole sense of the word. Oz is both the founder of Tribal Thunder, and originator and facilitator of Spiritual Warrior's Roadway. With Tribal Thunder, Oz collaborates with several school boards and local agencies to share the sacred teaching of the drum. The drum is the heartbeat of our mother, the Earth. The drum speaks to all peoples through its universal language. Spiritual Warrior's Roadway is a compilation of spiritual teachings gathered from the elders. Oz encourages his students to grasp these teachings through various experiments; experiments that having done them, placed me in a position to experience universal truths. Much like Dorothy, who is blown away from Kansas to the Land of Oz, I am always taken from the ordinary to the extraordinary in the company of Oz. Sometimes apprehensive, but always willing to experience newness; I have had my bubble burst many times, and each time it has helped me move one step closer to the truth.

Taking Care of Business and a Few Other Things Along the Way
Please, lets relax. Lets all take a breath; a deep breath. Okay, now let it out. Try it again, and again and again. Get to the point where you are not really thinking about breathing, but it is more like you are being breathed. Did you feel that? Did you let go of your day just a little? Good. Remember that feeling, and do it again--once a day even. It wont hurt. We take very poor care of ourselves. Life is hectic, and stressful and sometimes full of emotional, personal, professional and in the day and age of media, and social media, public conflict. We need to take better care of ourselves. I know this on a first hand basis having multiple work, business, community and personal commitments. There are many others out there who can also feel overwhelmed and over-extended. In a way, this has become the new normal for too many of us. In my day job, Im a social worker in the healthcare system. I see clients regularly, and speak at workshops to community members and others in the helping fields about this issue quite regularly. In the helping fields it is called self care, and is often referred to and referenced as a way to prevent burnout. While that is a good reason to take care of yourself I do find another, less talked about and more appealing reason. to enjoy your life more. We tell ourselves it is about preventing burnout, because that is more socially acceptable. What kind of social space have we created when we have to have dire reasons to take care of ourselves, or make excuses to enjoy life? I dont need an excuse to play with my cats, or read a comic book, or take a walk on the trail system, and neither do you. That brings me to another point. We tend to overcomplicate self care. It can be as simple as breathing, having a cup of tea, playing with your pets, taking a walk, reading a book, listening to a podcast while you do the dishes, stretching for five minutes in the morning. You have time for it. Yes, even you. One of my favourite self care activities is to watch a movie; another is to read a comic book. Going to a movie means no cell phone, no distractions, and its a good way to just let go of the stress of the day. With comic books I've enjoyed that graphic form of storytelling for years. I find them immersive, colourful. I enjoy they way they can tell a story in 10 to 15 minute chunks over a period of years, and sometimes

by Marc Laferriere Twitter: @MarcLaferriere

We tell ourselves it is about preventing burnout, because that is more socially acceptable.
Its ok to just want to enjoy your life more. If your prime motivation for taking care of yourself is to avoid burnout, then in my experience it still means burnout is going to come--just maybe a little later than it would have if you werent doing some self care. Too often, people engage in self care only because they feel like they are this close to burning out already. Weve got to change that mindset. Again, its okay to just want

decades.When you are busy its nice to be able to check in with something you enjoy for that brief period of time. In my social worker role I often refer people to a web page called 70 Ways For Self Care. If you Google it you will find it. They have an abundant list of possible activities that you can do to take better care of yourself on any budget, and for any schedule. In the past few years I have probably shared this web page with 200 to 300 people individually, and maybe another 500 to 700 who have attended workshops, or presentations I have been asked to give. Take me up on this challenge. Read through the list, put a checkmark beside the ones you have done, and a plus sign beside ones you are willing to try; then try them. Put it on your fridge, or near your computer and when youre feeling bored, or stressed, or just because it is okay to want to (remember that!) leaf through the list and try one. The ones you dont like, just ignore. Not everything is the right fit. There are many that wouldn't be a good fit for me, but I have seen work wonders for others. Thats it. No need to overthink it, or feel guilty about it. Its okay to take care of yourself. Enjoy.

Politics & Poetry

Herb Harker

Abortion is a mistake true; upon the head of man Spoken with his Gospel; truth as written in the sand Then who to judge, on the stage of men, across their baron brand, For in their Kingdom, words do rule, tis written in their plan. With not a care, from where the stage, is set upon a hill. Here I am defending you, in all that you believe. With cross of righteous open deed, this voice will set you free? Then free from what? Then free to do what? The truth that I have said? Sinner you, states the man on the hill, Im better off than you.

Never mind the poverty, we keep in women's wail. Hide I do, behind the word, the Bible quote by men. I do not care for what they state, in words from ancient pen. I follow past the greed, and slum across our baren plan. My voice will bring the children? Into the promised land. Said voice of man upon a hill, in judgement, and no shame: It is my rite, says preacher man, to put them down again.

April 2013

www.brantadvocate.com Facebook: The Brant Advocate Twitter: @BrantAdvocate

Page 11

Shake It Off: Stepping Away from Abuse

It was cold and dark out. I stood at the door in tears shaking, trying to decide whether or not to knock. Finally, I pressed the button, and a voice asked me if I needed help. Gulping for air, and in a panic, I told them that yes, I thought I needed help. Immediately the door opened. A friendly face asked me to come in. Someone took my coat, led me into a warm kitchen and made tea. I was assured right then and there that I was safe. No one could come in. The first floor had bars on the windows, and there were alarms. The person on duty smiled, gave me a box of Kleenex and waiting while I got hold of myself. You never know when these things come to a head, when you can no longer take any more abuse, whether it is emotional or physical. I felt guilty in that I had no bruises (at least on the outside) while others here would definitely have them. Finally, the warmth and the atmosphere helped me to stop crying and breathe. I was shown to a room where a warm, comfortable bed waited for me. Except for some cursory questions I was left to calm down and relax--giving me the ability to think. Morning came. Breakfast was prepared by those who were temporarily living in the house. The coffee was strong, and the food was good although eating was a hard task. I would be put on the schedule later. Cooking was my passion, and it would give me some outlet for all the frustration and pain. I was given an appointment to meet with a counsellor. This meeting was one on one, so it was private. Trying to keep hold of my fractured nerves was the worst part of the whole ordeal. Also, there was the shame and embarrassment that I had to be here; I had no other recourse. I was completely alone. Slowly, I told her my story, although I was sure she had heard something the same so many times before I could not help but feel that there was something different about mine. Finally, after an hour, I had it all out. We did more paperwork. I was asked about a lawyer, and given a phone number to call Family Services who would help me with my financial problems (my ex would be no good, as he was quite adamant about not giving me anything). It was understood that I could return home if I chose, there was no pressure to leave, but for now I was here and had time to think about all of that. I couldnt handle the thought of losing everything I owned. Things that were my mother's. Things I had collected. Things that meant something to me. The police would take me from here to my home to get personal items, clothing, and eventually furniture if possible, once it was all arranged. This information was also provided by the counsellor. It helped me begin to make a decision about my future. One problem occurred to me. I had only the clothing I was wearing. This was no problem, as it turned out the kind people of the community were always donating. I had a job, but was afraid to go to work. The counsellor suggested talking to them, explaining the situation, and seeing if I could get protection at least to and from my car. It seemed that they had answers for all my fears. You can stay three months, more or less. In that time you get help finding a place to live, a job if you need one, dishes and all the other things necessary to set up a home again. For mothers with small children there is a play room, and lots of help available as well. There were only a couple of young women there with children. It seemed that women my age were more the norm. My first day back at work I was scared to say the least. The day went well, but when I began to walk out there he was. My boss provided a very large security person

by Lynne Joseph

to take me to my car. Back at Nova Vita there he was again. The people within had seen him arrive, and the police were called. They took him away. Inside again, I had dinner and helped with dishes. The counsellors continued to talk to me when needed, advised me to go to a hairdressers, change my clothing style, and most of all to believe in myself and understand I didnt do anything to deserve the treatment I had escaped from. It was great to be on kitchen duty. The other residents were nervous and shaken like I was, but it also gave me a chance to make some friends with those who had gone through what I had. Nova Vita provides safety, support and helps self es teem, self confidence and provides ongoing counselling for all those who need it. They have a program for men as well, so they can learn about unacceptable behaviour and understand themselves. I didnt want to be there. I needed to be there. I was glad that I had been there. I got a place to live where it was safe. I got back to work full time. I got away! Anyone who is in an abusive situation should get out, seek help and have the life they deserve.

Remembering Superheroes
As I was going through my busy day today a thought came to me: I have not written in a couple of weeks. How am I going to get better, or get rid of some of the ideas in my head unless I keep writing? I came home tonight and found a story written by Rev Massimi. He is a local priest who thinks he is SpiderMan. With Great Collar, Comes Great Responsibility. I read it, and while I was reading it a story of my own was running through my head. I was going to respond to his story as a message, and then thought that maybe I should just respond with my own story. Thank you for your inspiration. I think superheroes inspire! When I was 15 a friend of mine was taken suddenly in a tragic car accident. Also in the car were two other friends that survived the crash. I was devastated and confused. I had so many questions. I heard at school how I shouldnt be reacting so dramatically. They were just my friends, they were not my boyfriend, or best friends, they were just friends. I had talked to the friend that lost his life that night only hours before. I was supposed to be at that hockey game. My mother was adamant that I was not to go. For some reason I listened to her that night. It was February. The weather was bad. The roads were slippery. The car was not perfect. There was a crash, and many lives changed forever. That set me on a voyage of discovery. I wanted to find someone that had some answers about how things like this tragic accident could happen, and how it could make sense. I was raised in a very religious home, but not a Christian home. We did not go to church every Sunday, and we did not follow all of the Christian holidays or celebrations. I talked to my dad. In my world he always had all the important answers, so I asked him all the important questions. My friend didnt do anything wrong, he was a good person. Why would God let someone like that die? Arent there bad people that could have died instead of someone young, and fun, and with a full life ahead? What about a future with education, jobs, family, promise? Doesnt he deserve to have that just as much as any of us? What about my other friends in the car? What did they ever have a chance to do to deserve this kind of tragedy in their lives? They were all good people. They never meant harm to anyone else. They were just having fun, and playing practical jokes. How does any of this loss, injury, and harm make any sense? If God lets good people die, and bad people also die, do they go to the same place? If you dont have answers to these questions, or you dont know Gods plan, can you let me know where to go next? I listened to his answers, and processed them in my 15 year old brain. I started thinking about all of the other people that might also have answers. I knew there were ministers, I knew there were priests, I knew that in our neighborhood there were many churches and buildings that housed other religions. I was going to investigate. On the corner of Brant Ave and Richmond Street there was a United Church. I would go there and talk to the minister, and ask him the same questions. I would just let him know what had happened, and that I had a lot of questions about Gods motives and direction. I would see if he had any different, or better or more informed answers than my Dad did. I went there and found that there was, in fact, a minister in the church, and he would love to chat with me and answer some questions. I proceeded to ask him the same questions that I had asked my Dad. His answers were more based on actual quotes from the Bible, and references to Christianity. They did have the same mystery, and admission of not really understanding the grand scheme, as my Dads answers had. He did not seem completely positive about the answers to the hard questions that I was asking, and he asked me a lot of questions too. In hindsight, I am sure he was a bit uncertain about this young woman in front of him that was asking all of these hard questions.

by Sylvia Collins

I went to Grace Anglican Church on the corner of West and Church street. I spoke to the Priest at that church. He was very interested in hearing my story, and was also very interested in hearing my questions. He then had some questions of his own. Near the end of our conversation we talked about where people go when they die, we talked about prayer and we talked about references to the Bible. On another occasion I went to visit a Priest at St Basils Church on Palace Street. It is a huge building, and very intimidating to someone who has not spent a lot of time in a church. By this point I had such a curiosity; why were these people that I was talking to not able to give me any definitive answers? Werent they the ones that were supposed to know? Werent they the ones that everyone went to with their BIG questions? Werent they the ones that had all the answers, or at least knew where to find them? I asked the priest the same questions that I had asked all the others. His answers were about Bible stories, references to the Bible, some questions about my experience, and then stories about heaven and hell. I would go there because I did not have the answers. At that point I was confused. I did not feel like I had any more answers to any more of the questions than I did at the beginning. I started to do some personal soul-searching to find out what I thought the lessons were in all of this. This is what I came up with: Be a good friend. I had one friend in the hospital that was faced with many surgeries. Maybe I could do something to make his process easier on him. My other friend had died, and he was on his own kind of journey. There was nothing I could do for him except honor his memory. I still remember him today. Always ask questions. No one ever has all the right answers. What each of us needs is curiosity, and information and answers to some of the questions. From there we can develop our own sense of what is important, and what makes sense. Over time some of the answers, and some of the questions, may change. That is a good thing.

Dont be intimidated by Church. There are people inside, and they want to talk to you. They want to answer your questions. They have questions to ask you that may inspire some more thinking. Every one of us is on a journey of investigation. Church is a building. The rest is in your heart and in your soul. Ask questions, be curious, talk to a lot of people. All of us are human. We all have experience that we can share to help others. We are all at a different stage in our journey. There is not one of us that has all the answers. Even if you think you have all the answers, and you think you have been asked all the questions, there may be someone out there that needs you to see things through their eyes, and not always through your own. Sometimes when someone walks through your doors, and wants to ask some questions, they do not want a superhero. Sometimes they have simple questions about simple situations that require some tough answers. It has been a long time since that 15 year old girl went on a quest for answers. It has been a long journey of soul-searching and discovery. That 15 year old girl is now a grief counsellor, and helps people find answers to their own questions. She does not have the answers. The answers are there to be found by each of us. They are different for each of us. They come from experience, religion, history, family, belief. Each of us has to find our superhero; the one of whom we can ask the questions. The one who listens to our questions, and asks us some new questions. The one who can guide us to some answers, and lets us choose on what to build our belief system. Thank you to those superheroes in my life who have done that for me, inspired that in me, or been a part of the process. I think you will know who you are. In a strange way I guess I owe a thank you to all of those involved in that tragic accident of long ago, who inspired a search for answers.

The Power of Storytelling

Storytelling: Its an activity celebrated throughout the history of humanity. Truth and fiction, and sometimes combinations of both have somehow fascinated us and drawn us in. Stories have the power to inspire, convict, enrage, and empower. They remind and comfort, soothe and balance us. We gather around tabletops, pitchers sloshing, or perhaps tea cups clinking, reliving tales, memories, reports, and dreams, and we do it all the time. Even today, those who hate reading or even listening enjoy a good story through film, drama, or art. There is so much thats precious about storytelling. Theres such power in it. I am not the type of person who remembers the details of stories. In fact, I forget names and places all the time. What I hold onto, however, is partly the cheeseball, classic moral of the story, but more so the feeling a story conveys. The adrenaline rush of action movies, the lightheartedness of comedy, the moral charge of a good drama, and even the flutters and wistfulness of the occasional romance all stay with me. To this day, I cant remember the name of the female lead in V for Vendetta, one of my all-time favourite movies, but the surge of post-chocolate-like endorphins I get thinking about Vs spectacular vocabulary, and the conviction I feel about maintaining a critical perspective

by Becca Vanderkemp, Twitter: @beccavdk

on the status quo seem to be impossible to shake when I think of the film. In the same way, my heart simply smiles when I think of the priceless moments of hilarity Ive shared with my siblings in the past. On another hand, my mind screams for change when I remember the accounts of turbulent upbringings of the street youth I mentor. My mind feeds on stories. My heart cant seem to grow without them. Its because of how much Ive gained from other peoples stories that has led me to try to share my own. Ive never been very good at making myself vulnerable, though. In fact, even whispering about crushes to best friends has been torturously difficult in the past. Many of my Brant Advocate articles have told some of the stories that have most deeply impacted my personal life, and not all have been the easiest to share. In sharing, however, Ive found that I have gained even further growth and even freedom. Let me explain. There is only one example that best describes my storytelling learning curve. Last year, I had the privilege of meeting weekly with a group of women who had all committed to being vulnerable and sharing stories. Each week, gathered in a circle while sipping tea, wed share highlights, lowlights, and lessons learned. Laughter, stunned silence, soft words of comfort, and tears would fill the room. We gathered together and encouraged one

another, relating, testifying, and building each other up. In that year, I saw girls admit deep, dark secrets that had been locked in recesses of their hearts, and by doing so, they no longer shut out the possibility of having those parts of their hearts be healed. Further still, they inspired other girls with similar burdens to shed off further baggage and stand tall. At the same time, we celebrated together when happy stories were told. We challenged ourselves when lessons learned were repeated. I think of the scene in The Grinch when the poor green guys heart grew three sizes in one go. In that year, because of the trust, faith, courage, and understanding gained from all of that storytelling, my character grew three times its original size. Somehow, in hearing openness and choosing to be open myself, I stopped having reasons to be scared. Rather, I was inspired. Things that had chained me to the ground suddenly became my targets for change. Since then, Ive chosen to share my stories both to let them out and so that, just maybe, other people can benefit from them. Life narratives have the power to inspire, strengthen and stimulate freedom. Share yours, listen to those of others, and be changed.

HARMONY

SATURDAY JUNE 22ND

SQUARE

Support abused women and their children by Raising $100 in pledges.

Prizes awarded to top fundraisers the man to beat Kevin Magee with $1,790 in pledges last year! All proceeds go to our local womens shelter Nova Vita Domestic Violence Prevention Services. Team Challenges Challenge your competition to create a team and go head to head to see who can raise the most
To register contact Michelle Heaslip at 519-752-1005 ext. 232 or mheaslip@novavita.org Registration starts at 10:00AM We provide the shoes Free BBQ and lots of great prizes