What if I could give back the same way Johan’s family gave to me?
I didn’t know how. I had no business training. No mentors. No blueprint. Just a dream.
So at night, I went to workshops to learn how to write a business plan. The day my son was born, I submitted that plan to a business pitch competition—having no idea what I was doing.
A week later, I got the call.
“Kendal, you’re a finalist.”
I had to pitch in front of hundreds of people in a downtown theatre.
I was terrified.
I was the shyest kid growing up. Speaking was never my thing. So I practiced—over and over—alone in empty classrooms. Twenty-minute presentations to no one but chairs and walls. I trained myself to show up.
When I stood on that stage, I told one story.
The story of Johan.
The story of his family.
The story of what generosity can do.
That story created belief. And belief created momentum.
We won prize money. I took it home, bought screen-printing equipment, taught myself design, built a website, and started selling T-shirts and hoodies out of our apartment.
Rock Bottom Before the Breakthrough
By the end of 2012, things got real.In grade six, on my birthday, my best friend Johan pulled me aside and told me something I wasn’t ready to hear.
“Kendal,” he said, “we’re moving.”
In that moment, something deep inside me cracked open. Old wounds surfaced—abandonment, loss, fear. This friendship had changed my life, and now it felt like it was being taken away. We made the best of our time together before they left, but I didn’t yet realize how much bigger the impact of this relationship was about to become.
Before Johan and his family moved, they got to know my mom. They came out to the reserve. They saw where we lived. They saw, firsthand, the reality of a single mother raising four kids with very limited resources.
And right before they left, they pulled my mom aside.
Her name is Inas.
They said, “Inas, we know we’re leaving. We know we’ve been helping Kendal get to soccer, and when we’re gone, that support disappears. We’re also thinking about your three daughters—their sports, their after-school activities. We want to leave you with something.”
Then they handed her a set of keys.
“There’s a vehicle outside. It’s yours.”
That vehicle changed everything.
Because of that one act of generosity, my sisters and I were able to continue playing sports. We were able to graduate high school—something that was unheard of in my lineage at that time. I became the first in my family to earn a university degree. My three younger sisters earned degrees too. My sister Kendra and I both played college volleyball.
One decision. One gift. Infinite ripple effects.
From Survival to a Dream
By the time I reached university, I thought I wanted to be a teacher. I imagined coaching, helping kids, giving back. Around that time, I met my wife, Rachel, and not long after, we welcomed our first child—our son, Keanu.
We were living in a small one-bedroom apartment in Saskatoon.
And that’s when the idea hit me.
I didn’t know how I was going to pay rent.
I didn’t know how I was going to provide for my family.
We found ourselves downtown Saskatoon—applying for welfare.
Right in that moment, something clicked.
I was standing in the same place I’d watched my mom stand years earlier, budgeting a welfare cheque at our kitchen table.
I looked at Rachel and said, “I grew up like this. I don’t want to raise our family this way. If you support me, I’ll do everything I can to make this work. I don’t know how—but I’ll give it everything I have.”
She said yes.
No plan B.
No retreat.
One life—make it count.
Becoming a Speaker by Accident
Our apartment became our first store. People climbed up to our second floor to buy out of our closet. That turned into a small office. Then a mall kiosk. Then Canada’s first First Nations-branded retail store.
Along the way, I had to learn how to talk to people. How to sell. How to lead. How to share my story.
Without realizing it, I was becoming a speaker.
Not because I wanted the stage—but because stories move people.
Today, my wife is a teacher. My son is in high school. My daughter keeps me humble daily. Family is everything.
How you take care of home is a reflection of how you show up in the world.
When home is strong, your leadership is strong.
When home is healthy, your energy changes.
Someone always needs you at your best.
Why I Share This Story
I share this story because success is never a straight line.
Because generosity creates generational change.
Because belief—borrowed or earned—can rewrite a future.
And because sometimes, you don’t choose to become a speaker.
Your story chooses you.
And when it does, you owe it to the world to share it.
hiy hiy
