Gwaii Trust Newsletter Vol.2,No.5,Aug98

WHAT'S THE STORY,
MORNING GLORY?

It's been four months now since the Gwaii Trust sent two returning University students into the communities to get a handle on "youth issues." Since then the duo has organized two Island-wide dances held in both Masset and Queen Charlotte shot a video documentary that attempts to capture the youth voice, and are holding a conference aimed at teens, slated for later this month. So, what's the story?

· · ·

For Alyssa King the story is about motivation. How do we get kids motivated to go for the gusto instead of a six-pack?

For Peter Lantin the story is about nothing, as in: "there's nothing for kids to do on these Islands."

How the story unfolds from there is anyone's guess, but it began for Alyssa and Peter in the offices of the Gwaii Trust, sitting through hour long job interviews. In the offering were two youth coordinator positions for self-starters eager to head up a summer pilot project with a large scope, vague goals and high hopes.

"We really had no idea what to do," says Lantin, a 23-year-old student from Old Massett who is finishing off his last year of a Bachelors degree in sociology. "So we started with the schools and got the kids to fill out questionnaires."

What issues do you face growing up on Haida Gwaii? Who are your role models? What activities would you like to see? About 250 questionnaires were distributed and remarkably more than half came back.

On the surface, the responses seemed no more than quick fixes to ease the boredom of another potentially uneventful summer. The wish list went something like this: teen dances, a newsletter advocating and cheerleading youth issues, a youth day.

The coordinators quickly set about organizing dances in the Island's two biggest towns which drew more than 240 kids, ranging in ages from 13 to 19. So what?

Back row: Tara and Joe. Front row: Winter, Fawn, Jaqluin and Pam.

"This isn't just about creating recreation for kids," explains King, "We were trying to get everybody together and that's what the numbers represented. We wanted a feeling of unity and we saw that. There were no conflicts at either one, people mingled and had fun."

The dances were significant, not only because of the lack of conflict, but by virtue of the fact that kids were not there to compete. For the first time in recent memory, kids from Masset and Charlotte were hanging out, not as rivals across a basketball court, but simply for fun. "When you get the youth together for something like this they're just youth," observes Lantin. And from there, the barriers begin to break down. Slowly. Subtly.

Coordinator's Peter Lantin and Alyssa King

There are more examples too of what King calls "dealing with the big picture on an all-islands level." There's the upcoming Haida Gwaii Youth Weekend, which is an attempt to get kids not only talking but thinking about issues as serious as abusive relationships, suicide and how to manage anger, and participate in workshops such as Youth and Justice, Youth and Parenting, Youth and Entrepreneurship.

Heady stuff that goes one step further by delivering it through the voices of the under 25 set.

"From doing the interviews for the documentary, I've seen that many of these kids have something to say but nowhere to express it. The conference is going to get them to talk about their situation and begin looking for solutions," says Lantin who admits that even getting some of these kids to talk is nothing short of a miracle. In many cases, Alyssa adds the kids are not looking for help at all and are content to whine about the lack of things to do.

But miracles happen. Maybe not of the burning bush variety but Lantin says they are making progress. A group of older kids in Masset approached him about helping to finance a camping trip to the village site of Yan, an idea that was later expanded to include a day trip for younger children.

That's the kind of initiative that the pair are trying to foster by example. Still, in many ways, the coordinators say they sometimes feel overwhelmed by the scope of the project, as if they're being asked to hold together a rusted VW with duct tape.

"It's just unfortunate that Aug. 31 is my last day of work. This job was personal to begin with and it's even more so now," offers Lantin.

"Yeah, somehow I feel its unfair to leave in August there's so much left to do," add King. "Once you build something up it's hard to let it fall."

So a new wish list develops. Both would like to see a permanent youth position created by the Gwaii Trust and Lantin would like to see a teen centre built. But not a teen centre designed by adults where teens with boozy breath are barred from entry and where the "good kids" are the only ones still coming through the doors after six months. No, Lantin wants a safe alternative to walking the streets at night, a place that accepts the reality of the youth experience on Haida Gwaii and doesn't simply try to sweep it away.

"To try and help the kids individually is going to take more than just us. It's going to take the whole community," says Lantin.·


Profile \| Alyssa KING
If you scratched a lotto ticket and came out a winner. If all your dreams were suddenly within grasp. Millions of dollars worth of choices. Wouldn't you start by quitting your day job? Asked the same question, Alyssa King says 'no'. "There's no way in hell I'd leave. This isn't a job you could just stop," she says with enough passion and conviction to make the scenario seem probable, then she adds, "This job is probably the best thing I've ever done in my life." *To understand just how* important the job is to Alyssa, you'd have to flip back five years, when King was what school principals like to call 'trouble'.** King was, in her own words, a "typical" teenager. Typically you'd find her and a motley crew of 15-year-olds drinking casually after dinner and well into the night. Marijuana? No problem: 'I heard that Steve's bringing some over later.' Typical. "I was kicked out of one dance where I was so drunk my parents had to come to get me," says the reformed teen. "You go out and drink all night and that gives you status or popularity. That's what I went through thinking. School was stupid and the only cool thing to do was to get as drunk as you could." Who knew? In Grade 8, Alyssa was on the Odyssey of the Mind team racing toward the provincial finals. She had good grades and good prospects. She came from a good home and was well-liked at school. Everything was good. But then the train left the tracks. "We won the provincials, we had so much fun. But then I realized that wasn't cool. If you step out of the crowd and do something even a little bit different then, oh my God, you're the biggest loser. You step away from your peers you become an outcast." Her parents responded by sending her off-Island to school, but that didn't change her behaviour her peers were different but the pressure to conform was the same. King credits her reform to a lesson learned from a close friend. In this friend she saw "someone who was doing what I was doing but never stopped." So she paused long enough to see that going to university and majoring in creative writing was the best of all possible choices. "The only reason I am where I am right now is because I went away and realized there are people who don't feed off the negative. I got out. I've gone through what the kids are going through. I was going down a really rough road and honestly I don't think I would have been motivated to get out of it," she says. But "getting out" doesn't necessarily mean leaving the Islands. What it does mean is becoming motivated enough to change your life. If nothing else, that's the lesson that King drew from this job: That it's possible for a 19-year-old to bring off an all-Islands dance for 140 others all by herself. "I didn't think I was capable of doing half of what I've done," King explains. "But it really isn't that difficult once you get started. I mean, anybody, really, could have done what I've done, as long as they have the motivation and are willing to do it. That's where I'm coming from with the kidsgetting them to realize that." ·

Profile \| Peter LANTIN
Kids lose their innocence quickly on Haida Gwaii. That's Peter Lantin's observation and he should know. Lantin has seen the "youth" issue from both sides. A couple of years ago he was a self-described "hell raiser," drifting between the two Massetts, unemployed, inebriated and lost. A rolling stone with high friends in places. Now, like his associate Alyssa King, he's become a role model for younger kids with all the weight on his broad shoulders that such a responsibility implies. "Whenever we got money we'd just drink or go buy some pot," he says of former days. "There was nothing to do. You'd just sit around feeling sorry for yourself." This coming from a guy who now thinks twice before partying with pals in public so as not to send the wrong message to impressionable youth. "Sure, I'm acting different this summer," Lantin admits casually. "But things have changed." You could say that Lantin's change in behaviour came with the job. The young student had just finished school in Victoria and was preparing to start a summer job with the Department of Foreign Affairs in Ottawa when he received the news that a close friend had committed suicide. "I sold my bike and a TV and dropped everything to come back for the funeral and saw the effect that the suicide had on, not only myself, but my friends," Lantin recalls. Shortly after his return Lantin saw the posting for the youth coordinator position and recognized it as an opportunity to help his community. "I called Ottawa and turned down the job and took my chances with the Gwaii Trust job. I knew I wanted to help these guys they were my buddies but I never really could. If I tried to open up on serious stuff they'd say 'whoa, where's that coming from Pete.' I figured the job would give me a more legitimate reason to go talk to my friends about certain stuff." Since taking the job he's been doing a lot of talking, from doling out sage advice once the video camera has been shut off to responding to late night confessionals by troubled teens desperate for a friendly ear. "I grew up here and there was no one here for me," confides Lantin. "These kids need someone who can relate to them, give them some good advice, and stear them in the right direction."·

about the
DOCUMeNTARY

It's a rainy evening in Old Massett, and summer is half over. Less than an hour ago, three kids left the hospital bedside of a buddy who had just failed in taking his own life. The second attempt in less than two months. Now they're in a calm place, sitting on a bench in front of the gravesite of another young man, an 18-year-old who succeeded, and they're telling stories. TRUE STORIES, some of which you wish were not. Stories about how tough it is growing up on these Islands, the racism, the addictions, the abuse, the boredom.

Sitting in their midst is a guy with a camcorder. Not just any guy, but a young guy from the village, someone they can trust with their stories. Although, today their stories have been immortalized as part of a documentary centred on youth. It's one of several projects dreamed up and executed by the youth coordinators. Now, the stories will be shared and, perhaps in time, will act to encourage others to tell more stories.

"Some of these kids have been brought up through hell," says Lantin, who has been putting in long days and evenings behind the camera. "I couldn't even imagine what a lot of them have seen or what a lot of them go through. But when they talk about their stuff they sit there with their head down and then look into the camera with a straight face and tell you how bad it is. There are no tears. No emotions."

Many of the stories are as shocking as they are predictable. Issues such as alcohol and drug use, teen pregnancy, lack of youth enthusiasm are just a few of the issues under exploration. But the video documents more than just voices. The camera takes us into places where the kids "hang" and shows us what they do there.

While the documentary was originally aimed at getting youths to talk about youth for the benefit of youths, Alyssa King says it will be the parents who may gain the most from watching the 70-minute production. After previewing some of the raw footage with friends, the 19-year-old realized that the stories were nothing new to her viewing peers. "The kids already know this. They'll watch it, but probably only to see what their friends say. I think, for adults, it will really open some eyes."

Getting enough eyes willing see the documentary will be the next challenge. But the coordinators hope to have it screened in most of the seven Island communities.

"Everybody asks what are the kids doing," says Lantin in a tone that suggests a warning. "Now they'll find out."

It's hoped the video can be aired on the local cable channels sometime this fall. Watch the Observer for viewing schedules.

	The Newsletter of the Gwaii Trust Society
		YOUTH
	Volume Two, Number Five - August 1998