Threads of Community: Finding Mino Bimaadiziwin in an Unexpected October
October in Kenora stitched itself together in ways I did not expect this year. I found myself moving between spaces that could not have been more different. There was a mental health gala with Winnipeg Jets alumni, a film screening about the history and conflict at Anicinabe Park, a night of laughter and pointy hats at the annual Witches Walk, and a Fall Feast in Wauzhushk Onigum where my mom was asked to offer an opening prayer. On paper, these events have nothing in common. The crowds, the moods, and the purposes were all different.
As the month unfolded, a quiet thread kept appearing. Community. The real kind. The kind that shows up, speaks up, cooks meals, laughs loudly, shares stories, faces truths, and keeps trying to build something better. Somewhere in the middle of all this, I found myself thinking about Mino Bimaadiziwin, which is often understood as living the good life in Anishinaabemowin. These moments reflected that teaching in unexpected ways.
Rally for Children’s Mental Health Gala: Showing Up for Youth
My first event was the Rally for Children’s Mental Health Gala hosted by Triple P.L.A.Y. and Winnipeg Jets Alumni and Friends. The proceeds supported True North Youth Foundation’s Project 11. The room was filled with people dressed for an evening out, but beneath the formal wear was a shared determination to support children’s mental health.
What stayed with me most were the words and wisdom of the speakers, their stories, their courage, and their vision for our youth. Each one spoke from the heart about the challenges young people face and the importance of standing beside them with compassion and consistency. And beyond the program itself, the conversations happening between people truly moved me. There was honesty, hope, and a shared sense of responsibility in the room. You could feel a collective desire to make mental health supports more accessible for young people in our region. The work of youth wellness is serious, yet the atmosphere felt vibrant and alive. People cared, and that care was visible.
This, to me, is part of Mino Bimaadiziwin. It is the act of caring for the next generation and recognizing that good mental health is something we all help nurture.
Ni-Naadamaadiz: Red Power Rising and Witnessing Our Stories
The next day, I attended the screening of Ni-Naadamaadiz, Red Power Rising, produced by Tanya Talaga. The room and the energy were very different from the gala. The story explored history, conflict, truth, and the layers connected to Anicinabe Park. For many, this land holds meaning, memory, and complexity.
As the film played, I noticed the way people watched it. They leaned into the story instead of away from it. Stories about land and history, especially in a place like Kenora, are more than entertainment. They are reflections of who we are, of what has shaped us, and of the work that still needs to be done.
There is courage in sitting with hard truths, but there is healing too. Mino Bimaadiziwin is not about pretending everything is simple. It includes honesty, clarity, and the willingness to face what has shaped our communities.
The Witches Walk and a Night of Laughter
Then came the Witches Walk supporting The Leo Project and the Kenora Veterinary Clinic. If the gala was heartfelt and the film screening was reflective, this event was pure joy. People spent the night in costumes. Some were spooky, others were hilarious, and all were full of personality. Laughter moved through the streets, and strangers complimented each other freely. For one evening, the community showed up not to solve anything but to simply enjoy time together.
Community is not always solemn. Sometimes it looks like play. Sometimes it looks like laughter in the cold October wind. Joy is a teaching too. Laughter can be medicine. Allowing ourselves to have fun is one of the ways a community stays strong.
A Fall Feast and a Small but Meaningful Moment
The moment that grounded me the most this month happened at a Fall Feast. My mom was asked to give an opening prayer. She speaks Anishinaabemowin beautifully, but she remains humble as she grows into Elder roles, still feeling her way into responsibilities that others already see in her.
Watching her offer that prayer filled me with a quiet kind of pride. In our culture, stepping into these roles is not a performance. It is a responsibility. Seeing her in that moment reminded me of my own relationship with our language and how much I want to learn it. It was a reminder that community begins with small things: a prayer offered in the language, the sharing of food, and the presence of family.
MC’ing and Meeting the Next Generation
I ended the month by MC’ing a multi-day event for groups of teen girls. Looking at them, I saw pieces of myself at that age. Some were quiet, others were bold, and many were trying to figure out who they wanted to become. As I spoke with them, I realized how much I have grown from the shy and sometimes rebellious version of myself. I have become someone who tries to bring warmth into every room I enter. That realization was another teaching from this month. Being part of a community means thinking about the kind of presence we offer to others.
Weaving the Month Together
If there is one lesson that October shared with me over and over, it is this. Mino Bimaadiziwin is not a single path. It is a collection of choices. Some days it is honesty. Some days it is joy. Some days it is prayer. Some days it is showing up for young people. Some days it is the simple willingness to learn.
These events were different in every possible way, yet together they reminded me that the good life is found in how we lift one another up, how we face the truth, how we celebrate joy, and how we walk gently together into whatever comes next.
