The last of the Canadian Indian Agents travels north to the tiny Native Village of Fort Norman located on the Mackenzie River in the North West Territory of Canada, now called Tulita. He brings with him his wife and four small children. The year is 1965, this ancient world is enveloped in the throes of change. Skidoos are replacing dog teams, English is being heard through the cracks of the walls of rough cabins at night. This hard clipped language replacing the soft sing-song of slavey that up until now has been the primary language along the River, used daily everywhere except in the classroom. The Indian Agent's daughter is a gregarious girl of seven. She struggles to speak this new language and tries to comprehend why she is treated differently by the people of the native village. She watches as men in white shirts arrive in small planes to discuss treaties, self-government and atomic bombs. In awe she sits with all of the other kids in the banks of the Mackenzie, ears covered with hands as the magnificent blocks of dirty ice smash and collide on their earth shaking journey to the Arctic Sea. Travelling by Komatik she watches as seals are hunted on the frozen vast vista of the Arctic Ocean. Islands float high in the sky as mirages, with brilliant spring sunshine glistening off of a million ice diamonds. Fermented seal flipper, an Eskimo delicacy is indescribable. These are true stories of a time now gone forever. Step into a segment of Canadian History that few people are aware of. This is living history as most of the people in this book are still alive and their real names are used. Their way of life has gone forever, but these memories live on. A simpler life. These are True North Stories, this is The White Girl.
About the Author: My name is Dawn Kostelnik, I am the White Girl. I learned about being different at a very young age. I believe that prejudice is not about skin colour, it is about minority. Insecurity and meanness can be cultivated in the hearts of persons of any colour. What a horrible disability to pass along to our children. As a child, I learn to fight. I moved to Whitehorse Yukon from the communities in the NWT. The Yukon lives next door to Alaska. I am very excited about this move, I would no longer be a minority. In this very 'civilized' city I now learn that I am a White Indian. I talk funny and have not yet learned how to have two faces. How can you tell who your friends are? The vice-principal at my school recommends that I quit school, I am in grade 10. It was excellent advice. At the age of twenty eight I became the single mother of Kaitlin aged fifteen months and Bobby aged five years. Sometimes there was not enough to eat. Minimum wage, even working several jobs was not enough to support two children on, I went back to school. I have four years of University English and on occasion my sing song accent slips through my lips. It flows through my fingers and shows up in my stories. I no longer feel the need to control my back country Irish Burr as it has sometimes been referred to, it slips out when I feel comfortable. My father called it our 'Northern Accent', it is a unique part of who I am. I am grandmother to Lucas and Everett. My grandsons are six weeks apart in age and have just arrived in this world of wonders. I expect this new chapter of life to be one of the best. Currently I live in a log house on the edge of the Boreal Forest on the outskirts of the City of Whitehorse Yukon. I lived on an old wooden boat off the coasts of Alaska and B.C, that way of life calls me still. The book The Adventures of the Audrey Eleanor document this life choice, great stories. My gypsy blood dictates change, who knows where the next Adventure will take me, I hope you will travel with me. Thank you for buying my book my friend. sincerely Dawn www.thewhitegirl.ca