I recently attended a mental health first aid course in order to further educate myself on the various mental illness disorders, the consequences of their severity and their overall prevalence in the population -- My eyes were opened to an entire population of our Canadian people whose rate of suicide was too horrifying to further ignore. As statistics related to aboriginal suicides were listed, I realized that this war being waged against the stigma of mental illness is but one of the many battles that will need to be addressed honestly in order to understand the magnitude of the affliction our mentally ill population is facing. As communities of aboriginals are fighting an invisible disease, society can dismiss the reality of the stigma by citing drugs and alcohol as the weak link in this people's history.
Once the wheels were in motion to sell our house, I started to reflect on the idea of change and what that would mean for us. I'd have to quit the job that I loved, working in the culturally rich Winnipeg arts community and vacate the life that I set up for myself since moving to Winnipeg from Toronto.
It is unclear why the Chiefs of these 44 communities are choosing to withhold this information from their electorate and Canadian taxpayers. It is particularly peculiar that two of these communities, Weenusk First Nation and Wuskwi Sipihk First Nation, previously published their audited financial statements and have now reversed course. That brings up the question: why are these 44 Chiefs afraid of an informed electorate?
For the last six weeks, deep in the B.C. legislature, eight MLAs have been toiling away at trying to set spending limits for municipal parties and their candidates in 2018, as well as third parties. It's been an oddly quiet discussion, given that their recommendations might restore a modicum of faith in local democracy. Might.
Wet weather and flooding in Manitoba is hitting the oil industry hard. Much of the province's oil patch is in the same area, inundated with water fr...
Alexis Nazbravich usually starts her mornings driving from her house in Boissevain, Man., to the International Peace Gardens. But once she steps inside the garden's café to get a coffee, Nazbravich's technically no longer in Canada: she's now inside North Dakota. How is this possible? Well, it's one of the International Peace Garden's quirks.
Why can't the premier and the leader of the opposition demand that their MLAs refrain from heckling, name-calling, inane repetition and unnecessarily charged language? That would at least bring them up to the level of civility expected in any fifth grade classroom. Maybe we can turn question period into something worthy of attendance.