By the time I was in grade three, my mom put me on a bus that would take me off the reserve for the very first time.
That bus ride changed my life.
I was leaving the rez to attend a town school—something that felt huge at the time. Our school only went from kindergarten to grade eight, but at the town school, you could graduate. It was actually where my mom had gone to school herself.
Still, that didn’t make it any less intimidating.
The bus filled up with kids from Sweetgrass First Nation, Little Pine, Poundmaker Cree Nation, and other nearby communities. And then off we went—to a small farming town called Cut Knife.
If you’ve ever been there, you know what I mean when I say small town. About 600 people. Mostly farmers. Tight-knit. Everyone knows everyone.
And there I was—this kid stepping into a completely unfamiliar world.
My First Taste of Culture Shock
When I got off the bus, I felt culture shock for the first time in my life.
I didn’t know anyone. So I went into autopilot. I did what I had been taught to do—bow my head, listen, observe.
At recess, I listened to the conversations happening around me.
Kids were talking about farms.
I had no idea what a farm was.
They talked about crops.
I didn’t know what a crop was.
They talked about rain—and how much rain they’d gotten.
I didn’t even know people measured rain.
So I thought, Alright. I’ll figure this out.
One Conversation Changed Everything
A few days passed, and I noticed a group of kids kicking a soccer ball back and forth. I loved soccer. I wanted to play.
So I built up the courage and walked over.
I jumped in and started kicking the ball with them. And then, trying my best to fit in, I said, “Hey guys… how are the crops doing?”
“How’s the farm doing, buddy?”
They looked at me like, This guy gets us.
And in my head, I’m thinking, Oh my goodness—it’s working.
What I didn’t realize at the time was that this small moment would create a ripple effect. Friendships started forming. Conversations opened up. Trust began to grow.
And it all started by finding common ground.
The Question I Wasn’t Ready For
I started asking questions.
“What’s home like for you?”
“Where are you from?”
They told me about their families, their ancestors, how they came to Canada, the land their families settled on, their interests and traditions.
Then one of them asked me a question I wasn’t prepared for.
“Hey Kendal… where are you from?”
I paused.
No one had ever really asked me that before.
I said, “I’m from Sweetgrass… by North Battleford.”
They responded, “Oh yeah, we drive through there on the way to Battleford. We don’t ever stop—but we know where it is.”
And in that moment, it hit me.
That’s where I live.
What This Moment Taught Me
That experience taught me something I carry with me to this day:
Connection starts with curiosity.
Belonging starts with conversation.
And bridges are built when we’re willing to step into unfamiliar spaces and engage instead of retreat.
Every room you walk into—every event, every workplace, every community—is an opportunity to create understanding. To ask questions. To listen. To find common ground.
That’s how division fades.
That’s how friendships form.
And sometimes, all it takes is one brave conversation to change the course of your journey.
hiy hiy
