By Robert Boake,

CALA/CCN Project Coordinator

  Adult learners in Colchester County are the focus of this issue of Coastal Communities News. Working this spring with the Coastal Communities Network and adult learners of the Colchester Adult Learning Association (CALA) has given me a great sense of pride and appreciation for their hard work in striving toward their future goals. In the short period of time that I’ve worked with the students, helping them submit the articles that follow, I’ve seen a wide variety of people and places around Colchester County. Being a former adult learner myself, and having gone through experiences similar to what I now see in these people, I can’t help but admire them all, and wish them the best of luck as they journey toward a better future.

CALA’s mission is to help adults who want to develop skills for lifelong learning so they can enrich their lives at home, in the workplace, and in the community. When the Coastal Communities Network approached Mark Mason, CALA’s Coordinator, about a partnering project with CALA students, he jumped at the opportunity. He felt that writing articles for this magazine would give the students a chance to express their feelings about a number of things affecting them and their communities. When adult learners take part in a project like this, it’s a great boost to their self-esteem. I encourage other adult-learning organizations around the province to get involved in similar projects

Robert Boake, who now lives in Brentwood, Colchester County, is graduating this June with a Nova Scotia High School Diploma for Adults. He plans to attend the Nova Scotia Community College in Truro this fall to further his career in life-long learning.

 back to top

By Jacqueline Russell,

There were many things that prevented me from finishing high school as a teenager. I moved from an isolated community in Québec to Pictou County, where I entered a whole new world that was both foreign and scary to me.

I talked different than the other kids. I had attended a school for about 40 students, but upon moving I began attending a school for more than 2,000. I kept getting lost. The teachers would ask me questions, but since they had difficulty understanding me, they soon stopped asking.

I had some unpleasant experiences with teachers at that time. One teacher became frustrated with my accent and finally said, “I can’t understand you.” I stopped answering questions, determined to learn to talk like my peers.

I remember a couple other incidents during that time. One was in Grade-Eight science class, where we had to collect, label, and display insects for a project. I have a phobia about insects, and when I asked if I could submit something else for the project, one of the kids asked, “What’s wrong? Are you scared [of the insects]?” I didn’t answer, and he began to throw some of the insects he had collected at me, tearing off the legs and throwing them. Some of the others joined in. I remember the teacher laughing. One student began putting bugs down my shirt, and I remember standing on my chair screaming. Finally, the teacher said, “Okay, kids. Settle down.” After that, I’d meet kids in the hallway and they would jump at me, pretending to throw bugs. I remember being so afraid that they might actually have bugs and would do it again.

There was another incident with my math teacher. He liked to tell jokes, and one day during class he asked me a question and I gave him a wrong answer. He grinned, and said, “When were you born? You should have been a twin.” I asked, “Why is that?” He replied, “Because no one person could be as stupid as you are.” That reminded me of being told by another teacher that when I grow up, I should be a comedian, because I was too stupid to be anything else.

It was during this period that I developed an eating disorder. I’ve struggled with anorexia nervosa ever since then, but nobody noticed at first. Not my parents, not my teachers, not my friends. Nobody questioned why I slept through classes. Nobody noticed that I didn’t eat for eighteen or twenty hours at a stretch. No questions were ever asked, and I never offered any answers. Why should I? Who really cared?

I left home shortly after turning seventeen. I got married and had a family – the two best decisions of my life. For a while, my eating disorder would be under control. If anyone questioned me, I could offer lots of reasons why my weight was down.

Two years ago, I hit an all-time low, and finally entered treatment. I went there loaded with a lot of baggage, and one of the critical things was my perception of myself. I honestly thought I was brain-damaged. When a person gets told something for most of their life, it gets really difficult to question it. After all, when you’re a child, aren’t adults always right? That’s what I was taught.

Part of my therapy was addressing my preconceived notions. Am I intellectually challenged? One way to find out was to go back to school. This was something I’d wanted to do for years, but I have four children, and I didn’t know of any adult learning opportunities in my area.

Part way through my therapy, I picked up the local paper and read about an Adult Learning Program (ALP), being offered in my area. I was so excited that I called immediately and asked to sign up. But I was also afraid because I felt that by going back to school I might prove that I was stupid. I feared making a complete fool of myself. Sure, I could change diapers and clean house, but did I have what it takes to make a passing mark in school? I wasn’t so sure.

After meeting with my social worker and one of the two ALP teachers, I decided to give it a try. I had been in critical condition during the summer of 2002, but I entered the ALP in early October. The support I got from my social worker and the teachers was tremendous. When I had to take a month off because I was too weak to attend classes, I got weekly phone calls and e-mails. I kept expecting to hear that I was just taking up space and that I wasn’t making the grade. Then, when my marks started coming back, I had to struggle with my perfectionist thinking. If I made 80 percent, I told myself I had missed 20 percent of the knowledge, and that I was a failure. But the ALP staff were so very supportive of me.

I’ve been in the ALP for three months now, and it’s been the best possible medicine toward my recovery. I had stopped doing my math assignments after only two weeks in October, thinking I’d best tackle some easier subjects first. Then, one day in January of 2003, I had a triumphant moment. (I’m sure many people won’t know what I mean here, but I know that the ALP staff certainly will.) I’d stopped my math because I’d felt such a sense of failure. I wasn’t able to get the concepts being taught, and I felt so stupid. I remember driving home crying, thinking I had just proven that the voices from my past were correct: I’m stupid.

On that January day, I picked up my math book for the first time since October. My math teacher sat with me for about five minutes, giving me examples of each of the mathematical concepts. She then left to help another student, and I was left to try it on my own. When the teacher came back, I’d done one page, and they were all correct! Suddenly, what had been impossible was now easy.

Why was this such a momentous occasion for me? Because people can tell you what they think you can do, but when you actually do it, and do it well, you’ve been given a great gift – the gift of knowing that you can do it, that maybe you really are somebody, and you’re not just taking up space.

  Jacqueline Russell lives on the Northumberland shore of Nova Scotia and attends adult learning classes in Tatamagouche. She hesitated to put her name to this article, but decided to do so in the hope that it might be of help to someone out there.

 back to top

Water:  A Resource in Crisis 

By Sheila Hunt,

I think we can consider water a resource in crisis in the world today. Maybe not so much in Canada, but in other countries around the world. In many countries, people are in desperate need of water. There isn’t enough water for the everyday essentials and much of it isn’t safe to drink. People become very sick from drinking contaminated water. A lot of time is spent collecting water, leaving less time for people to be productive in society. This causes hardship and stress on families. People tend to be more concerned about quantity than quality, and when there isn’t enough safe water they drink and bathe usong water that has become contaminated. Officials more concerned about quantity than quality often add chemicals that create microbes, which can cause cancer and other diseases in humans. I think these chemicals added to our drinking water will have a more negative effect than if we simply drank naturally occurring groundwater.

Every twenty years, global consumption of water doubles, and this is more than twice the rate of population growth. According to the United Nations, more than one billion people already lack access to fresh drinking water. Governments are signing away control over domestic water supplies by entering into trade treaties, giving transnational corporations the right to water supplies in many countries. Governments around the world must take action to declare water a fundamental human right and fight efforts to privatize, export, and sell for profit a substance essential to all life.

The Chinese government wants to build the Three Gorges Dam on the Yangtze River to make it easier to ship out products grown or assembled in that area. This, the argument goes, would increase trade and raise people’s standard of living, while the sale of hydroelectric power would also add to China’s economic growth. But the down-side to this proposed dam is the environmental damage it will create by flooding good farmland. As well, almost two million people will be displaced, causing both ecological and social problems. Currently, the Chinese government is trying to raise capital on international markets to build Three Gorges.

As an environmental issue, water is a bit like climate change. We won’t believe things are as bad as critics say until we turn on our tap and no water flows out. There’s lots of fresh water in the world, but it’s not always accessible, and in areas where it is, it’s often being polluted or used for agricultural irrigation. It’s predicted that, in future, water, like money, will flow to the rich, leading to wars over shared water resources.

Our bodies are 70 percent water. Denied it, we would die within three days. As individuals, and as a country, we should consider this every day when we turn on the tap, take a shower, start the dishwasher, or use the sprinkler for our lawn, because, down the road, these will be luxuries for only the rich. There is no such thing as a free lunch, and for every environmental gain there is an equal or greater environmental loss.

Sheila Hunt and her husband live in Tatamagounche with their six children.               

 back to top

By Lynda Ross,  

I’m originally from Cumberland County, and I’m a newcomer to the very beautiful community of Middle Stewiacke, Nova Scotia. My husband, four girls, and I have been enjoying the new experiences and new friends this community has to offer.

When we were first looking to buy a home, I had in mind of something a little closer to Truro. The real estate agent was a great help to us, finding this home in Middle Stewiacke. The first time I saw it, I knew it was the home for us. I think the reason I fell in love with this place was the community it was in. When we bought the home, we didn’t know a person here. That made the move a little exciting.

My three oldest children had mixed feelings about moving, because they were leaving behind all the friends at school they’ve grown up with. But they adjusted very well, with ups and downs of course.

It didn’t take very long for any of us to make new friends. This community is so friendly, yet they keep to their own business. It’s nice to know that they’re there for you if you need them.

After a couple years in the community, my youngest daughter started school. With that, I decided to go back to school to get my Grade Twelve. This was a big step, considering I’d been out of the school system for eighteen years. I considered my options. The first thing I looked into was the GED. I took the course, but decided not to take the test, because I wanted more. One day I came across a flyer about adult learning at the Brookfield pharmacy. I called about it, and was accepted into the Level III of the Colchester Adult Learning Association (CALA) program in Stewiacke. I took this big step, with my family’s support, starting in October of 2002. I was very nervous, of course, but I met two other ladies from nearby Upper Stewiacke. One has been in the CALA program with me since I started, while the other just started in March. The first lady and I are in the final stages of Level III, and we both hope to go to Level IV this September. We’ve become friends and help one another out as much as we can. I don’t think I would have pushed myself as much if she weren’t there with me, or without my family being so supportive.

It seems the move to Middle Stewiacke has helped me put myself in gear to better myself with an education, and to make new friends. It feels so good to have accomplished so much. Now I have a career goal I really want to work for. After I complete Level III, I will work on Level IV. Then, I hope to take a Business Administration course at the Nova Scotia Community College in Truro. I couldn’t have come this far without taking that first step – moving to Middle Stewiacke.

Lynda Ross and her husband Arnold live in Middle Stewiacke and have four daughters, Melissa, Krista, Kelsie, and Caitlyn.  

 back to top

By Donna Hebb,  

I haven’t always believed in myself. A long time ago, when my Dad was alive, he would always tell me I was tough and to not be afraid of difficult tasks. He said I should never give up on anything I try, never to quit on anything I was doing. I always try not to quit on anything I set out to do, but I’ve been a single Mom for much of the past 25 years, and I’ve been through a lot of bad things. Each time something bad has happened, I’ve learned to be stronger and tougher.

After my Dad died in 1990, I began to try to live up to what he had been telling me. When everything seemed to have gotten just about as bad as it could get, I would fight even harder to make things better. In 2000, my youngest child, now three years old, was born, and life was great. But then my fiancé was in a truck accident and was left a quadriplegic. For eight months, I spent most of my time in hospitals, trying to give him hope that he was going to be okay. In November of 2000 we got married, but from there things went downhill. We broke up in September of 2001, and I was on my own again. I had to get a job to support my family. I went from job to job to make money, sometimes working three jobs at a time. Now, we’ve just gotten through the worst winter I can remember, but we survived. No matter how bad some things get, you need to believe in yourself. Then, you can get through whatever comes your way, whatever happens.  

South Maitland resident Donna Hebb is a single mother of four children, two of them still living at home.

 back to top

For My Family, and For Me 

By Angela O'Connell,  

Growing up in a small community on Québec’s North Shore, I never thought I’d be where I am today. I was born and raised in a fishing village of about 400-500 people, and the education system there wasn’t the greatest. At the age of sixteen I dropped out of school. There wasn’t a lot of help available for those of us who were “least likely to succeed,” so I just quit. At the time, I thought I had it all figured out. My attitude was, “Who needs an education to live in a fishing community?” Well, a couple of years went by, and I decided I no longer wanted to live in that community all my life.

I wanted to see more and do more than that community had to offer. One summer when my aunt was visiting from Nova Scotia, she asked me if I’d like to come back with her. I decided overnight that I’d go. Leaving home was one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life — I must have cried most of the way here. But when I got to see all there was to see here, I was so excited. There was so much to experience.

I’ve lived in Nova Scotia now for about fifteen years, and I’ve had a lot of both good and bad experiences. I’ll skip the bad and move on to the good. Meeting my husband has been one of the best things to happen to me. We met through a friend back in 1994, got married in 1996, and now have two beautiful children, a boy Lucas, and a girl Rachel. I thank God for them every day. My children have done more for my life than I ever thought possible.

Lucas started school this year and he is already so smart. I’d always toyed with the idea of going back to school, but was always afraid. But when Lucas started school, I realized that he would eventually be asking me for help with his homework. What was I going to do if he came to me for help that I couldn’t give? One day, I went to retrieve my mail and got a newsletter where I saw a notice of a meeting for upgrading through the Colchester Adult Learning Association. I called the number listed in the notice and got more information. The woman I talked to was also upgrading her education, and she encouraged me to take that next step and make some more phone calls. I did, but was disappointed to find that all the classes had been filled, and I wouldn’t be able to start until the following fall.

I kept thinking of upgrading my education as something to look forward to. Then I got a call saying there might be room for me at a Level III class in Stewiacke. I arranged to have myself assessed and off I went. I was so nervous the morning of the assessment, because I didn’t know what to expect. But after meeting the instructor I felt very comfortable, because he made me feel very confident in myself. I felt I could really do it. I was accepted into Level III that very day and was so very excited. This opportunity for a second chance is one I’ll not give up. I feel so good about myself and so proud that I’ve finally decided to better myself — for my family, yes, but most of all, for me.  

Angela O’Connell and her husband Kirk, along with Lucas and Rachel, live in Upper Stewiacke.

 back to top

Life Got Easier 

By Agnes Burris, 

My husband Craig spent most of his early life on a farm in Old Barns, Nova Scotia. It’s called Burris and Sons Farm, and it once belonged to Craig’s aunt and uncle, who sold it to their two sons.

Craig was only ten years old when he moved to the farm after his mother and father broke up. Growing up on the farm involved a lot of work. They would get up at five o’clock in the morning to milk 45 head of cattle with bucket-style milkers, and then carry the buckets to the milk coolers. They had no barn cleaner when Craig first went to the farm, so they had to use a shovel and wheelbarrow to clean all the cow manure out. Back then, they still used horses for some crops and for bringing in the hay. There was fenceing to do, fertilizer to put on the fields, land to clear, grain to harvest, and lots more. By the late 1970s, there had been a lot of improvements made on the farm. All the new equipment made farming easier for Craig and his cousins. Making hay with the new tractors was fun, and they got equipment for cleaning  manure out of the barn. Life got easier.  

Craig and Agnes Burris now live in Great Village with their two young boys. The farm is still run by Craig’s cousins, but Craig himself now works as a carpenter.

by Shirley Weir  

My husband Andy was in the military, and in 1977 he was posted to Shearwater from Petawawa, Ontario. We moved there with our two daughters, Dorothy, then aged seven, and Tina, aged four. Both Andy’s family and mine are from New Glasgow, and we would often visit them. The Trans-Canada is quite boring to travel all the time, so we often took the scenic route that went through Musquodoboit Harbour, Middle Musquodoboit, Upper Musquo-doboit, Dean, and then through Lansdowne to Westville.

Between Dean and Landsdowne, there’s a bridge near a small place called Eastville. A road by that bridge that takes you down to the water, and we often stopped there and had picnics. The girls so looked forward to those picnics. One time as we were going through Eastville, we noticed an old farmhouse that was falling down, in bad need of repair. Andy said to me, “We could buy that place and fix it up,” to which I replied, “You’ll not stick me way out here in the middle of nowhere.”

 It wasn’t long afterwards that someone bought that place and did a really fine job of fixing it up. Up the road from that farmhouse, just on the bank of the Stewiacke River, was a lovely farm we had always admired. In 1990, it went up for sale, and we stopped and looked at it. We loved it, but at the time couldn’t afford it, so we just looked. Over the next year, we often passed it and talked about what it would be like to live there. The next sum-mer it was still for sale, and we then figured we could just barely manage to buy it. So we put a bid in on it. It was accepted, and we moved in, but without the girls: by this time, Tina was seventeen and in college, while Dorothy was twenty and working. We lived part of the week in Eastville and part of it in Shearwater, because by now Andy was finished with the military and was working as a firefighter at the Halifax Dockyards. We eventually sold the Shearwater house to our daughter Dor-othy and her new husband.

Sadly, in 1996, we sold the farm, because it became too much to keep up. But we kept 27 acres by the river, bought a mini-home and put it near the riverbank

That’s how I came to live in the lovely community of Eastville.  

Shirley and her husband live along that riverbank with their dog, Patches. Shirley is attending school through CALA and plans to complete her Level III. She and Andy look brightly to the future.  

CCN thanks all the adult learners who took part in this project with the Col-chester Adult Learning Association. There were more contributions than we had space for, and we will publish them in future issues of Coastal Communities News.

 back to top

“Tatamagouche.” I keep that word in a special place. Way back in the Dark Ages, when I was a lad of six or seven, we used butter in our household, just as almost everyone else did. My Mom insisted on a brand called “Tatamagouche Creamery Butter.” I was learning to read, and when my eyes would fall on words I’d encounter in my everyday doings, I’d try to say them out loud. For weeks, I remember that every time I went to the fridge my eyes would take in “Tatamagouche Creamery Butter,” and I’d get the last two words okay, but “Tatamagouche” stumped me for quite some time. Finally, I managed to verbalize the word, and I asked my Mom, “What’s a Tatamagouche?”

This tale remains to this day as a family joke, and it was only years later that I learned something of an answer to my question. The lovely Colchester County community takes its name from a Mi’Kmaq word meaning “meeting of the waters,” because it lies where the Waugh and French rivers both empty into Northumberland Strait. And from the nineteenth century, butter was produced in the community, first as a private enterprise, and after 1968 by Scotsburn Co-op. Although butter hasn’t been produced in Tatamagouche since 1992, Scotsburn still markets it under the “Tatamagouche” name.

As its name suggests, the Mi’Kmaq were familiar with the area, but the first Europeans to arrive were Acadians farmers, who continued to supply their produce to the Fortress at Louisbourg even after mainland Nova Scotia fell into British hands in 1713. When the Expulsion came in 1755, the Acadians around Tatamagouche were the first to be deported, and the village was destroyed.  About ten years later, German and other Protestants from Lunenburg County came to settle in the area, and they were joined soon after by an influx of Scottish immigrants. In the nineteenth century, the community became a centre for not just farming, but also lumbering, milling, and shipbuilding.

I drop in to visit Tracy Kittilsen, Program Manager at “Open Doors,” a Career and Community Resource Centre that has been operating on Tatamagouche’s main drag for just over a year now. “We get our funding from Human Resources Development Canada,” she tells me, “and also from the North Shore Area Community Health Board. We teach people employability skills, and counselling and also offer services to employers. We’re sort of a one-stop centre for people looking for work and for people looking for workers.”

Tracy tells me that Tatamagouche (or “Tata,” as the locals call it) has about 700 people living within the village, but that there are 10,000 people in the surrounding area who depend on the community for major services. “There’s a Village Commission that sees to water and sewer for the village itself,” she says. “And, there may not be butter being churned in Tata anymore, but the community makes good use of the old creamery building. There are lots of festivals and events there, including indoor yard sales, and a farmers’ market on Saturdays from May to December.”

Winnie Forbes is President of the Women’s Institutes of Nova Scotia, and she lives on Lake Road, about a mile and a half from Tatamagouche. “I can only think of one or two disadvantages to living in this area,” she says. “If you want to go to a movie, you have to go to Truro, and the prices are a bit high at the little grocery store in Tata. But, there are so many positives to living here: there is great medical and dental care available, nursing and seniors’ homes, and friendly people – all the joys of country life. Even at the grocery store where the prices tend to be a bit high, the staff are terrific. They’ll bring in special products when local people ask for them. I get most of my groceries there because I want to support local businesses as much as possible.”

Both Winnie, who is originally from Lunenburg County,  and her husband Eldon taught school in southwestern Nova Scotia, where they met and were married. In the late 1970s, they moved back to the Tatamagouche-area farm where Eldon was raised. Eldon continued to teach, while Winnie stayed home to watch the family grow, and to help out with farm chores. Today, Eldon is retired from teaching, but the couple work together to keep the farm, a 40-head beef operation, going. They sell most of their livestock at the cattle market near Truro, though they also do a smaller amount of trade direct to consumers at the farm gate.

“This is one of the most beautiful areas of the province,” Winnie tells me. “It’s the warmest ocean water north of Virginia, and I used to swim on the South Shore, so the water here is a real treat for me.”

Tatamagouche has a very diversified economy that’s based on small, independently operated businesses. According to Wayne Edgar, Executive Director of Tatamagouche Centre, a residential and ecumenical learning centre operated by the United Church of Canada just outside the village, “There’s not any one major employer in the area. There are lots of dairy, beef, and sheep farms around here, and there are maple, blueberry and other agricultural operations. Some people fish or work in the woods. Others find work in a salt mine or a pewter factory, both nearby in the Pugwash area. And there’s a bank, hospital, high school, and a rink. Tatamagouche is a service centre for a wide area.”

Tatamagouche Centre, Wayne tells me, often serves as a meeting place for community groups, and staff at the Centre sometimes get involved in local issues, as happened not long ago when the province threatened to cut the level of services at the village’s local hospital. The community banded together, and the threat passed.

Wayne tells me that people in Tatamagouche attend United, Presbyterian, Roman Catholic, and other churches. As well, there is a Mennonite community in the area, and a Buddhist retreat and meeting centre, Dorje Denma Ling.

I track down Leroy Boese, a Mennonite living down the road from Tatamagouche in the River John area. (The Mennonite church is a scant few miles outside Tatamagouche, on the road toward River John.) “About twenty years ago, the Mennonite community in Western Canada was looking to establish a new community where we could meet our neighbours,” Leroy tells me. “At the time, there were no Mennonite communities east of Ontario, and there were farms available in this area. Mennonites tend to be farmers, small business operators, tradespeople, and carpenters – we believe in making an honest living from honest labour. I don’t think you’ll find too many Mennonite lawyers.”

Leroy, who works for an electrical and plumbing company in River John, came here from Alberta in 1987. “We’ve received an excellent reception in this area,” he says. “and by now this place feels like home. Mennonites tend to be rural people, and, although I work off-farm, I also run a sheep operation with my wife, Gwen. As much as we wish we could, it’s not easy to make a living as a farmer without the benefit of other work as well.”

Sue Corning is Co-Director of Dorje Denma Ling, just outside Tatamagouche in The Falls. “We’re celebrating our tenth anniversary this year,” she tells me. “We serve as a retreat centre for the Shambala Buddhist community. We haven’t reached out to the community as much as we’d like to, but we do offer weekly meditation classes that some local folks come to. Right now, we’re in the process of building a larger residence using local workers, and we buy everything we can locally. On the summer solstice in June, we’re going to have a family picnic for all the people who have been working on the new residence. We hope in future to reach out more to the local community.”

I’d been told that people in the Tatamagouche area take their history seriously, but, still, I was a bit surprised to learn that there are two museums in the village itself as well as another just down the road at Brule. “The Sunrise Trail Museum has exhibits on the early Mi’Kmaq and Acadians,” Dale Swan, a retired teacher, tells me, “and it also features artifacts from nineteenth-century agriculture and shipbuilding. The Anna Swan Museum celebrates the life of nineteenth-century giantess and Tatamagouche native Anna Swan, who was my great, great aunt. At the age of sixteen, she joined P. T. Barnum’s American Museum in New York. She eventually married Martin Van Burren, also known as ‘The Kentucky Giant.’ Finally, at the Brule Fossil Centre, visitors can see footprints and fossils from 290 million years ago. So, you could say that the Tatamagouche area has a long history.”

Wow, that is a long history. Even longer than my own, which stretches way back to those early days with my nose in the fridge and my tongue trying to wrap itself around “Tatamagouche.” So, “What’s a Tatamagouche?” There’s no easy answer to that one. It’s a combination of many things, and a combination of the efforts and talents of many people. But one thing they all seem to share is a love for their community.

back to top

CCN's 2003 Annual General Meeting

Replinshing, Replanting, Renewing

  by Scott Milsom

The Coastal Communities Network (CCN) held its Annual General Meeting April 4-6 at beautiful Tatamagouche Centre. Coming together under the theme “Our Communities, Ourselves – Replenish, Replant, Renew,” a record number of people turned out to nurture and value our spirits, minds, and bodies.

The beautiful setting – where the Waugh and French Rivers come together wit Northumberland Strait – helped invigorate participants for the entire weekend. It started on Friday evening with an introduction by past CCN Chair Arthur Bull, followed by a drumming performance by the East Boyz, a group of young Mi’Kmaq. Then, delegates enjoyed a Youth Panel, in which three young people spoke about both the attractions and the hardships of rural and small-town life in Nova Scotia. The evening was wrapped up by another drumming performance by the East Boyz.

On Saturday morning, folks had a choice of three workshops. Kathy Putnam led a demonstration and introductory class in Taoist Tai Chi, while Fraser Hunter, a Pictou County dairy farmer, and Jennifer Melanson, an organic grower from Hants County, facilitated a workshop on the theme of “Getting Food to the Table.” It was an exploration of the links – or the lack thereof – between the consumers and the producers of food. Parallels were drawn between agriculture, the fisheries, and forestry: in all three primary industries, government policies favour larger operations over smaller ones. It was agreed that CCN and other organizations should encourage governments to adopt policies that would favour small-scale agriculture, small-scale fisheries, and small-scale forestry. The third Saturday-morning workshop on offer was on “Climate Change,” and it was facilitated by Kyle MacKenzie of the Canadian Climate Impacts and Adaptation Research Network. Participants learned of the inevitable warming of our climate over the coming years and of the impacts such changes will have on where and how we live. There was also discussion of how such changes might be minimized.

After lunch, delegates once again had a choice of three workshops. The first was designed to help delegates hone their organizational skills. Peter Clancy of St. Francis Xavier University and Judith Cabrita of the Tourism Industry Association of Nova Scotia hosted another workshop on the province’s forest industry. Peter began with a historic look at ownership patterns in Nova Scotia’s forests, and then noted that the level of clear-cutting taking place today in the province’s forests may well be unsustainable over time. Judith followed Peter by outlining the importance of the forest to our tourism industry. The third afternoon workshop, facilitated by Rick Williams and Mike MacDonald of Praxis Research, looked at population shifts. Participants learned that, while the provincial population is stable, Halifax and surrounding areas are experiencing rapid growth, while many rural areas are losing people at an alarming rate. Rural populations are also, on average, older than they once were. After lively discussion, it was agreed that governments urgently need to look at what is happening demographically around the province and seek ways to change directions.

After a quick Annual Business Meeting late Saturday afternoon and a great supper – are there any meals served at Tatamagouche Centre that aren’t “great”? – most of the almost 60 delegates placed bids on a wide range of articles donated for a silent auction to help CCN raise some funds. (Special thanks to Karen Nash for her excellent efforts at getting people and businesses to offer goods to that end.) Saturday evening wrapped up with the unfettered foolishness of the Fifth Annual Nova Scotia Trivia Contest. (See page 23 to test your knowledge against a sampling of this year’s trivia questions.)

On Sunday morning, CCN was honoured to have long-time peace activist Muriel Duckworth among the panellists at a forum on “Building a Peaceful World.” Also on the panel were Thomas Turay from Sierra Leone, who teaches conflict resolution at the Coady International  Institute in Antigonish, and Stephen Law of Tatamagouche Centre. Muriel began by outlining the history of Canada’s peace movement, something that she has been an important part of all her life. She then noted that the United Nations has declared this to be a decade for building peace but, unfortunately, it also seems to be a time when America has chosen to build an empire. “War is never the answer,” Muriel told delegates: “War is never even the question.”

Stephen Law then spoke about his volunteer efforts in Latin America with Peace Brigades International. Witnesses can often act as a deterent to armed groups who might otherwise act violently towards innocent civilians. He concluded by noting that the battle to build peace is an economic as well as a political one. Consumers here can make choices and take actions that promote a fairer and more peaceful world.

Thomas Turay began his discussion by bringing greetings from both the Coady Institute and his native Sierra Leone. He then used the Creole language to invoke the spirits of his ancestors as well as those of Canadian peacemakers. He went on to describe the terrible savagery that enveloped his country in the early 1990s. Thomas then pointed to some of the internal factors that led to this terrible bloodshed, such as tribal tensions, a lack of food and water security, gender inequality, and AIDS, as well as some of the external factors, such as the legacy of colonialism and the policies of international financial and lending agencies. He next outlined how Canadian institutions such as Development and Peace and the Canadian International Development Agency are involved in efforts to build and maintain peace in Sierra Leone. He ended by urging all present to “keep a world of peace.”

After the panelists concluded their remarks, the floor was opened to a discussion on the role of Canada’s Armed Forces, and on ways that young people might be engaged in building a more peaceful world. It was finally agreed that the only healthy response to war is righteous indignation.

The last gathering of the weekend was a “Closing Circle.” It was an opportunity for everyone to reflect their weekend, on the Coastal Communities Network, on their communities, and on their lives. A stone was passed around from person to person, and the person holding the stone was asked to speak from the heart rather than the mind. As the delegates shared their reflections one by one, there was laughter, warmth, caring, and a few tears. Again and again, people heard that others felt renewed, refreshed, energized, included, and encouraged. People left taking valuable information back to their communities.

Anyone who spends an early April weekend at Tatamagouche Centre will see all around them evidence of plants growing anew, of life renewing itself. Once again, the Coastal Communities Network has helped it members renew and replinsh themselves.

Six out of the the seven industries that account for more than 70 percent of Nova Scotia’s exported goods are located in coastal, rural, or small-town Nova Scotia, and they are heavily dependent on a skilled, rural-based workforce. (It’s not altogether clear how the seventh – offshore oil-and-gas development – generates jobs in rural areas, but the major production facility is in a rural area and production and exploration activities depend heavily on marine infrastructure.) However, declining physical and service infrastructures in these same areas are, year by year, making it harder for economically active people to stay in those communities. Rebuilding the social and economic viability of our coastal, rural, and small-town communities is vital to the economic future of Nova Scotia.

How are Nova Scotia’s rural, coastal, and small-town communities faring? One way to judge this is by looking at population figures. Increasing populations would likely indicate that small communities are retaining their young people by offering career opportunities that would allow them to raise families of their own in the communities in which they themselves were raised. Decreasing populations would indicate that these opportunities are not available, and so the young must leave to find career opportunities.

Measured with a demographic yardstick, it appears that our small communities are in poor health. Although some communities within an hour’s drive of Halifax are holding their own demographically, in most parts of Nova Scotia young people are leaving their home communities. In some places, the exodus is drastic: Between 1996 and 2001, Guysborough County lost more than ten percent of its population, while Digby County lost more than five percent, and Queens County almost six percent in the same period. The towns of Truro, Hantsport, Trenton, Parrsboro, Berwick, Wolfville, Annapolis Royal, Shelburne, Digby, and Cape Breton Regional Municipality all lost between four and eight percent of their people in a scant five years. And, needless, to say, the people who remain in rural and small-town areas, are older, greyer than the provincial average.

On the flip side of the coin, metro Halifax is clearly booming. But policy makers at all levels of government might want to pause and consider: do we want a Nova Scotia where everyone who is economically active lives in Halifax?

The fishery has long been the economic lifeblood of coastal communities and, despite the collapse of the groundfishery in the early 1990s, the landed value of all seafood harvested in Nova Scotia has continued to rise annually, thanks principally to the strength of the shellfishery. However, even as landed values have increased, the number of people active in the harvesting sector has fallen. This reflects a concentration of control – almost across the board – of our fisheries resources in the hands of larger operators.  As well, our wharves and other marine infrastructure continue to suffer because of the downloading of responsibility by the federal government.

The forestry sector is also vital to the economic well-being of rural and small-town Nova Scotia, with large pulp and saw mills, along with many small contractors and harvesters, providing much-needed jobs. However, many have questioned the sustainability of current harvesting levels. The province needs to look very carefully at data suggesting we may be on the road to disaster in our forestry.

Across the country, the number of farms has been falling for decades, although the total acreage of farmland in Nova Scotia has increased in recent years. Both nationally and provincially, farmers have been faced with a stark choice: find more capital to invest in a farm, or get out of the industry completely. Smaller farmers, in particular, are in need of a transfusion of capital. And, Nova Scotia badly needs a land-use policy, as in some areas agricultural land is being lost to residential or recreational development. As well, all Nova Scotians need assurances that they can have access to our coasts.

The closing of coal mines over the past several years has hit the mining sector hard. There is a widespread feeling in rural and small-town Nova Scotia that the signing of oil-and-gas contracts in the early 1990s represent a squandered opportunity for economic development.

Given today’s  information technology, there’s often little reason a job can’t be done just as efficiently in Trenton or Hantsport as in Toronto or Halifax. However, many areas of the province face a connectivity disadvantage compared to more urban areas. One of the biggest concerns for the growing technology sector in rural Nova Scotia is the unavailability of broadband, crucial for competitive businesses. We have begun creating an educated workforce that would be attracted to rural areas by the quality of life there, but they need technological infrastructure so they can remain competitive. This problem is slowly being addressed, but, from the perspective of rural Nova Scotia, it can’t be addressed too quickly.

Small businesses are the engine of economic growth in rural as in urban Nova Scotia. The development of entrepreneurial and business skills is essential to the future health of rural Nova Scotia, as is the removal of unnecessary roadblocks on the road to building small, successful, community-based enterprises.

Along with the problems caused to small communities by federal downloading of responsibility for wharves and other marine infrastructure, the consolidation of federal services has led to closure of post offices, as well as of HRDC and other federal offices. Also, there are other problems with health, education, and transportation infrstructure. Centralization of health delivery infrastructure often means that people in smaller communities must move to larger ones to be  able to access essential health services. As well, the greater distances that must be travelled to access health care creates transportation problems for people in rural areas, most of which lack any form of public transport.

While the construction of large, new schools that can offer a wide array of educational services can be a boon to the education of rural youth, the matter of closure of older schools must be approached with delicate sensitivity. Very often, small schools can be the very heart of smaller communities, a place where parents, teachers, volunteers, and students come together to build and develop their sense of community. (Figures show that larger schools, farther from the small communities where volunteerism is a way of life, have a harder time attracting volunteers than do smaller schools.) As with all matters of public policy, the will of the community should be paramount when the closure of smaller schools is being considered.

Finally, many rural areas have seen a deterioration in transportation infrastructure in recent years. Rail travel is now impossible for most rural citizens, as is public transportation. While millions have been found for improvements to our 100-series highways, many secondary and tertiary roads have been allowed to fall into an appalling state. Rural citizens fortunate enough to own their own vehicles are faced with the increasing cost of maintaining them.

The Coastal Communities Network (CCN), realizes that the situation of rural, coastal, and small-town Nova Scotia is a result of years of policy decisions made at the international, federal, provincial, and municipal levels. CCN is actively involved in bringing policy makers at different levels together to take a broader look at the implications of policy decisions for rural Nova Scotia.

It’s an inescapable conclusion that much of rural, coastal, and small-town Nova Scotia is in crisis. To assure the future economic and social well-being of the province, that crisis must be addressed squarely by governments at all levels.

back to top

Things: from time to time, we all need them, and, as likely as as not, we’ll head to the local mall when we’re after a litre of motor oil, a frying pan, or some other everyday item. I was in just such a place the other day, and I saw one of those backlit advertising signs. Often these are used to urge us to buy a particular type of a specific widget – Calvin Klein jeans, say, or Vidal Sasoon hair gel. But this one was far less specific. It stated simply: “Shop. Imagine. Discover.” No enticement to get us to shop at Wal-Mart, at The Bay, or at Zeller’s. Just a simple message: we should buy things.

The image on that backlit sign is of two young women with beaming smiles upon their faces. They are looking down into what appears to be a large, brown paper bag, the sort with handles, often used by upscale shops and boutiques to package their wares. It’s hard to tell exactly though, because as the image moves toward whatever the women are admiring, it gets increasingly out of focus, fuzzy round the edges. In fact, the focus of the image is very sharp around one of the women’s smiling faces, but the other woman is less sharp, less distinct – and more like the object being admired.  Looking at the image as a whole, you can see a crisp gleam of pleasure in the twinkling eyes of the woman in focus. You can see the clear outline of her perfect white teeth, and the happy creases of her smile, but as the observer’s eyes look toward the object (objects?) of her happiness and admiration, it’s completely unclear what it is she’s so darned happy about. And though it’s obvious that the other woman is also smiling admiringly, it’s also obvious that she is less than central to the overall image, which is focussed on the admiration of the other woman for the mysterious bagged something.

“Shop. Imagine. Discover.” Smile. Admire the wondrous things there are to buy. Share that admiration with the one next to you, less important than the contents of the bag, but also lost in admiration for whatever is in there. What’s being sold in this imagery?

It seems to me that the idea is that there is great value, a source of great happiness, in whatever is hidden in the fuzzed-out yet apparently upscale paper bag. And also that the focus of that happiness is centred on one woman in particular. “Shop. Imagine. Discover.” Shop for things. Imagine things. Discover things. Consume, and your world will be a happier place.

Now, like everyone else, I need stuff from time to time. A car gets me around to communities across the province, groceries come in handy at mealtimes, clothes protect me from the cold. I buy these things, so I’m as much a part of “consumer culture” as the next person.

But, I found something disturbing about that back-lit sign in the mall. Its underlying idea – that individual happiness stems from individual consumption for the very sake of that consumption – is something that runs counter to my sense that the most valuable things in life involve interactions among people, rather than interactions between an individual and the things he or she buys. And, it’s this sense of interaction among people that makes our small rural and coastal communities such very wonderful, special places. When I got to thinking about the imagery, words, and message of the “Shop. Imagine. Discover.” sign, I began to think of it as the complete opposite of that shared sense of community that makes rural and coastal Nova Scotia such a very special place.

Okay, maybe I was just grumpy that day in the mall. I was there, after all, to buy something, just like every other shopper there that day. But, shop though I may, I’ll be sure that my imagining and my discovering is shared – with people, and with communities, rather than with things.

I’m the third generation of my family to get an education in the grand old building that was the Mahone Bay School. I still go to the school every day, but now I go there to work for the Mahone Bay Centre Society. The school’s bell tower, built around 1914, is a focal point for the town.

My grandfather attended classes here at a time when Grades Primary through Twelve were housed in one building, with each classroom home to a few students and a mix of grades. The wooden floors and large staircases are still here, probably with the same creaky boards still in place.

When my mother attended school, elementary grades remained in the old part of the school, along with Grade Twelve. A new addition in 1960 housed the gym, as well as Grades Seven through Eleven. Little had changed when I entered the education system in 1985, although by then high-school students were bused to Bridgewater and Lunenburg. Each September, the school was readied with repairs and fresh coats of paint. For many, it was where we spent most of our days, learning things we thought we would never use.

Halls that once filled with children’s laughter now echo the sounds of team members working to develop a community centre. Support for the idea was evident from the beginning, with the Society receiving funding from Human Resources Development Canada (HRDC) for a feasibility study. The Society’s research included a fact-finding visit to the Bear River Centre, another former school given new life as a community centre. Members liked what they saw, and took the idea to the people of Mahone Bay.

Both the Centre Society and the Town of Mahone Bay carried out community surveys in the area to determine the need for additional social and recreational activities and facilities. High on everyone’s list was the need for a space where young people could meet, play, learn, or just “hang out,” a space where they could organize their own activities. Families also needed support, so a space where they could discuss their own issues would also be valuable to the community. The surveys also identified the need for cultural space where musicians, visual artists, filmmakers, dancers, printmakers, and other artists could share their skills and work with the community.

“It was at this point that Town Council demonstrated its faith in this community by turning over the key to the old school to a group of volunteers with a big dream,” says Deborah Hickman, Past Chair of the Centre’s Board of Directors. That “big dream” is now the Mahone Bay Centre.

The Centre offers rental space to businesses and non-profit groups, with the income going toward operating costs, general upkeep, and building maintenance. Rooms are used for meetings of community groups, fitness classes, and recreation programs run by the town. Salaries for the Society’s General Manager and Administrative Assistant are provided through HRDC job-creation and internship grants.

The Centre has numerous tenants. In one wing is a day-care centre, an after-school and nursery-school program, while a gymnastic group rents the gym. On the first floor of the school’s older section there’s a fitness/movement room, a community meeting room, and a home economics room that might soon become a community kitchen. On the second floor are artists’ studios, dance classes, acting groups, and an art room, as well as a counselling room and a massage-therapy room.

With the help of a grant from Sport and Recreation Nova Scotia, the Centre Society is now building a youth studio in the basement. This space for young people includes a stage for performances, a snack bar, and a place to sit, relax, or just “hang out.”

The Centre continues to revise its goals to reflect the progress achieved during its first year of operation. However, its vision remains constant: to support and enhance the quality of life, and contribute to the economic and social well-being of Mahone Bay and neighbouring communities.

The Mahone Bay Centre is a big project in itself. With the contributions and dedication of the Mahone Bay Centre Society and the community, the Centre is fast becoming the heart of the community. This old building has laughter and knowledge filling its halls once again.

back to top