Isolation in the North

by Heather Newman

75,000 square kilometers. That is the geographical region covered by my employer, the Keewatin Patricia District School Board in Northwestern Ontario. We are one of the last school districts in Ontario before going into Manitoba, and cover the large region between Thunder Bay and the Manitoba border. To drive between the two farthest communities in our board takes seven hours. We have schools in the communities of Kenora, Sioux Narrows, Vermilion Bay, Ear Falls, Red Lake, Dryden, Sioux Lookout, Ignace, Pickle Lake, Savant Lake and Upsala as well as serving the educational needs of many more neighbouring and far north First Nation communities. It is truly one of the most beautiful places on the planet, and we who are lucky enough to live here are thankful for the amazing life it provides. We have the Canadian Shield, lakes, rivers, outcroppings of rock, boreal forests, harsh winters with ice roads and sledding, summers spent on the water, and a plethora of ways we live, play, and create in the natural beauty and isolation of the region.

I grew up in this area, in Fort Frances, on Rainy Lake. When I first attended university in Southern Ontario, I found that no one really comprehended the distance to my home region. I started to tell people I lived in Manitoba, because it was easier than explaining that I flew into Winnipeg and drove home to Ontario. The first time I drove through the GTA, I was shocked by the lack of forests and wild space between cities. I was used to travelling for hours between towns and cities, with long stretches of Canadian Shield in between. But here, a sudden road sign in the middle of a busy highway, proclaiming a new city, left me nonplussed. And the ease of accessing the arts was astounding. Growing up, attending professional theatre and arts was something that had to be meticulously planned, because it always required hours of travel and overnight stays. To suddenly be in a place where you could just go check out a new show was a wonder to me. 

I lay this all out because, unless you have grown up in Northwestern Ontario, it's difficult to understand how isolating it can be. And as someone involved with the arts, for my whole life, this can feel hard and yet, the isolation we face provides us with both challenges and opportunities.

The result is an incredibly vibrant and interconnected artistic community, both within the school and in our geographical districts. Several years ago there was an article published that deemed Kenora a "cultural wasteland." This was  infuriating because it completely negates the practices and creations that do happen in our communities. 

For one to look at the north and say we offer little in the way of culture is frustrating and discouraging. It is a colonialist view of our region that discounts our traditions and creations. Silvia Montoya, Director of Statistics at UNESCO, states that “Culture is who we are. Whether we are from Alaska or Johannesburg, from the smallest rural hamlet or one of the world’s megacities, our culture has been the building block of our identity, our sense of belonging and the social and economic cohesion of our communities.” This is accurate. There is culture everywhere, and it affects how we live our lives. It exists in our relationship to the land and to each other. It also exists in what we create. Sometimes what is created here in the North is swept aside for more mainstream arts on larger stages, but the amazing work arts practitioners accomplish in this area should never be discounted. 

Any true, heartfelt examination of our life here will yield a vibrant community of passionate arts advocates working in many fields and disciplines to provide storytelling and creation. We have programming in our schools, and amazing local community theatre companies, such as Trylight Theatre in Kenora. Because there are limited trained professional specialists in areas such as lighting, set design, etc, many local people have to wear many hats. This applies to my students as well. Yes, they join my productions as actors usually, and stage managers, but they are involved in all steps and aspects of producing, giving them even more ownership of the show. In our last production, I had a double cast show of 12 actors per show, 24 actors in total. Yet, without asking, on the nights they weren’t performing the other cast would still come, eager to be involved and help with last minute prop and set fixes, styling hair and makeup, running our tech, ushering, and just generally wanting to support the show, and their peers, as much as possible. In terms of our population, because our student pool is small, educators work together to ensure students don't have to choose between their hobbies. Usually arrangements are made with athletic coaches, travel clubs, and music educators to ensure students never have to say ‘no’ to an opportunity they are interested in. 

We become an extremely close knit community through school productions.  Students become incredibly connected because, as they work in productions for their years, they really are only with the same small core group, the same faces, the same personalities. 

In our extracurricular productions and activities, we have worked together with various community groups such as Trylight Theatre, Kenora District Festival of the Arts, Seven Generations Education Institute, Danceworks Kenora, Confederation College, the Northwestern Health Unit, and others, including sharing space, working with choreographers, creating informational videos, participating in emergency trainings drills and scenarios for postsecondary students, and other ways of utilizing collective creation to embed ourselves within our community. In discussion, one student summed it up as “Everyone is connected to theatre in this town. Everyone pretty much knows each other.” Another said “No matter who you are, you know someone involved in theatre in our community”.

However, there are obvious drawbacks in our isolation. Access to professional theatre camps, after school programming, guest performances and visits, are limited. Many times I have looked up incredible artists and companies that visit schools in major cities, and my heart sinks because of the sheer cost of trying to bring them up here; iit is usually unachievable. 

Despite that, we work hard to offer opportunities and develop young emerging talent here. I say “we”,  because it isn’t just a teacher, but also the older students. In our shows I cast from all our grades, 7-12, and usually the “littles” (which is what we affectionately term the grade 7 and 8s) connect with the older students. It is the only program in our school that has all ages working together on one project, in one team. The older students are protective mentors of the younger ones, and are highly encouraging to everyone to join, especially when they see young students that haven’t found their niche or school family yet. 

One of my senior students offered the following reflection: 

I feel like I always have an interested audience because our shows come around a few times a year. There's definitely less pressure than a big city would have but I think that's good because it gives me more freedom to create and explore without judgment. Having a small community also means the drama community is smaller and tightly knit. We all get to know each other very well and we're all able to grow and develop together. With constant support, it's very easy to become better and work on your art. 

Another student offered this insight:

With how isolated we are, when people care about the arts they REALLY care. As opposed to a place like Victoria, with big theatres, and super accessible theatre. People may go just to go you know, but if people come to watch a small school production they really want to watch. And that’s a great feeling.

In such a secluded area, it is easy to feel alone in the world. It is easy to feel like an outlier, trapped in a tiny place. If you are someone who doesn't share the more prevalent passions of our rural area- fishing, hunting, hockey, sledding, and quadding- oftentimes you feel your "otherness" quite strongly. This loneliness can hurt, and hurt deeply. But drama creates a place for these individuals to express that. To share their stories. To find a small, tight knit community that will embrace them warmly for their differences and their uniqueness. We provide  escapism by sharing stories, living different characters, and visiting different dramatic worlds. It is why I, as an educator, am so passionate about trying to provide that space for my kids. Up here in the north, the isolation can be overwhelming. But, in these small communities, in the art of drama, you can find your haven.