When Ken died in February 2021, we had an outpouring of messages from readers, with many telling us how much his columns meant to them. In light of that, we thought we would go back through our files and re-publish some of his columns. Ken would be flattered by the kind words readers expressed. We miss him as a friend and as a storyteller.

Have you seen the television commercial about a woman who checked her ancestry on one of those websites where a person’s life can be traced back hundreds of years’?

The woman is surprised to learn she is “36 percent Native American”. In the next frame of the commercial, she is shown with Navajo and Hopi pottery in the background.

I found the ad amusing because I know people like that. In fact, I know people who say they have 10 percent First Nations blood, and the next thing you know, you”ll see them walking around with moccasins and beaded headbands that look like they came right out of the 1960’s hippie days.

If you thought being a Canadian is sometimes living with an identity crisis, you should try being a member

of one of the country’s First Nations. I find loss of identity is very real in the younger First Nations generation.

This is no fault of theirs because I believe we, the older generation, should take responsibility and reach out to them and teach our language, our songs, our stories and all the proud traditions of our culture.

Many Aboriginal youth have adopted subcultures that are not their own. Some have gone to rap music as an escape from the stark realities they sometimes face. Many haven’t heard the beautiful music their own people have created.

On my reserve, there is now an annual powwow. This year will be the fourth. It is surprising, despite the fact that cultural traditions are very strong, there are people on my reserve who have never been to a powwow or heard the songs of our nations. Nor have they witnessed the dances that go back to the first sound of the sacred drum beat.

The powwow held on my rez is a traditional powwow. What that means is there is no competition. People dance for the love of dancing and the music. More importantly, they dance because they are part of something incredible – something that has evolved and continues to evolve.

The music, dance and culture of this continent’s founders comprise a living entity. This entity envelopes people with love and pride. This will stay with the youth as they grow into adulthood and become contributing members of society.

The first year at our powwow, we had eight local dancers. The following year we had 25 local dancers, and last year we had 32. This year I wouldn’t be surprised if we have more than 50 dancers.

This is something the children will grow up with. This is something they can tell their own children, how they used to attend our powwow on our own territory. This is something I never had. This is something most people never had while growing up on our rez.

Back to the ancestry ad, then. I suppose 36 percent Native American is a significant amount of aboriginal ancestry. Well, at least it’s enough to start making pottery.

Good for this woman who now has an identity she can relate to. But I’ve always believed it doesn’t take a German to speak German. lf a person’s heart is pure and the desire real, I believe a person can learn another nation’s language and culture.

In fact, I know people who have absolutely no Aboriginal lineage who have adopted the culture and learned the language of the First Nations. I can even say I know white people who are more First Nations than some First Nations people.

I know white people who wear moccasins and I also know First Nations people who wear cowboy boots. In the end, it doesn’t matter what’s on the outside: it’s what’s on the inside that matters.

I wanted to check out my own ancestry on those web pages but because of the spelling of my last name. I know they’ll come back and try to say I am of Polish or Ukrainian ancestry.

The proper way of saying my last name is “no sky” (as opposed to yes sky). However, someone pulled a Vanna White and inserted a vowel into my last name. Now I have a name that sounds like it came from Eastern Europe. Maybe that’s why I feel like pulling over every time I pass through Vegreville and taking a photo of myself with that giant Easter egg.

• Ken Noskye