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 them. Ken would be flattered by the kind words readers expressed. We miss him as a friend and as a storyteller.

I miss the days of idealism, the days when a single person believed he or she could make a difference. I remember being 15 and feeling that way after I listened to a speaker from the American Indian Movement (AIM). At the time, AIM was labelled as a radical or militant group. That night the message was positive. Not once was there a mention of roadblocks or arming myself in case a battle or something broke out. “Get an education,” was the main topic.” Education is the new weapon for the North American Indian.” The education part was no big deal because by then I was driven to learn. I had a passion to understand the world. Today, I have a framed piece of paper hanging on my wall. I had gone from a northern trap line to a graduate in broadcast journalism.

After post-secondary, I worked as a television news reporter, a radio host and had jobs in film and video. I firmly believe my purpose in life is to tell the stories of people, no matter the race, gender or belief. I have never held back my past as I believe in absolute honesty when it comes to writing. “ Write what you know” is a piece of advice I heard when I started. At the time, all I knew was my past as a student in a residential school, and my stays in so many foster and group homes I had lost count. I remembered the times I lived on the streets of Edmonton trying to survive and all those extreme addictions. I also had my experiences in Canada’s crowbar hotels, first youth detention centres and finally prison. I thought, who would want to read stories about my experiences? I didn’t realize how wrong I was.

 Reality television was just starting when I started to write about my personal experiences. I thought if there’s reality TV, why can’t there be reality writing? When I started writing with candour, or straight from the hip, I started getting offers from editors and publishers. I wrote that there is hope for prisoners who thought they were alone. There is hope for a young woman being forced to walk the streets, believing no one cares. There is hope for addicts who think that’s all they’re going be. There is a hope for young people who believe their dreams or a higher education is lost. There is hope for the elders who think all their lessons are lost in the wind. There was hope for a group of young Aboriginal people hanging around in a Prince Albert park during my internship as a news reporter.

I was driving home when I spotted them. I decided to approach them and ask why they didn’t go home. Sadly, the response was “we don’t have a home.” I then asked them if they went to school. “If we had a school that understood us, maybe we would,” was the response. Arlene, my partner at the time, was a school teacher. We talked about this and said “why not?” We started on a mission to start a school. It wasn’t long before the Won-Ska school was born. A few years later, I was walking through the halls of the College of Education at the University of Saskatchewan when I heard someone call my name. I saw a young man coming towards me with a big smile on his face. He explained he was one of the kids I spoke with that night in the park. He said he enrolled in Won-Ska school, graduated from high school and was now in university. He said his plan was to go to Prince Albert to teach at the school. Sure enough, after graduation he started to teach at the Won-Ska School.

It was all because a couple of people believed it was possible: a couple of idealists who thought they could make a difference.

– Ken Noskye