logo
#

Latest news with #WahbungAbinoonjiiag

I was a teenage mom. Now I'm a contestant for Miss Indigenous Canada
I was a teenage mom. Now I'm a contestant for Miss Indigenous Canada

CBC

time20-07-2025

  • General
  • CBC

I was a teenage mom. Now I'm a contestant for Miss Indigenous Canada

First Person Tamara Fontaine 'This pageant isn't about glamour. It's about healing, leadership and pride,' Tamara Fontaine writes Today, I am a contestant in Miss Indigenous Canada 2025. I'm representing not just myself, but my son, my ancestors and my community. Standing here is more than a title or a pageant. It's a full-circle moment, one I never imagined possible nine years ago. At 16, I became a single teenage mother. I was still in high school, overwhelmed, scared and unsure of what my future would look like. I grew up in poverty, surrounded by systems that didn't always support young Indigenous girls like me. I remember crying quietly in the bathroom during class breaks, wondering if I was ever going to get through it. I felt so much pressure to be strong, while still trying to figure out who I was. I've learned that my voice is a tool for change. - Tamara Fontaine But even then, I knew I wanted to give my son, Noah, a better life. He was always my anchor. He became the reason I kept going when things got hard. I returned to school and pushed through late nights, grief and moments of deep self-doubt. It wasn't easy. I faced judgment and stigma for being a teen mom, especially as an Indigenous woman. There were times when I felt invisible and forgotten, but I kept showing up for him, and for myself. What helped me most along the way was reconnecting with my culture and finding the right support systems. I joined Wahbung Abinoonjiiag, a community-based organization that supports families and survivors of domestic and family violence. At the time, I was navigating my own experiences with unhealthy and unsafe relationships. I didn't always have the words for what I had gone through, but Wahbung gave me a space to feel seen, to begin healing and to reconnect with who I was outside of survival. There was also a women's empowerment program I joined while I was there, which became a turning point in my journey. It focused on building confidence, reclaiming our voices and recognizing our worth as Indigenous women. Through workshops, teachings and sisterhood, I began to feel stronger not just emotionally but spiritually and culturally. It helped me shift from surviving to thriving. Through ceremony, cultural teachings and that empowering community, I began to understand that healing wasn't just possible, it was mine to claim. Taking Charge (a provincially funded support service for single parents) became another turning point in my journey. They helped me get into the University of Manitoba and provided child care so I could focus on my education while still being there for my son. I started out in the faculty of arts, unsure which direction I wanted to go. Over time, through my lived experiences and my growing involvement in community work, I realized that my heart was being pulled toward social work. I wanted to help others the way others had helped me, so I switched faculties and was accepted into the inner-city social work program, where I am now in my second year. This program feels like home. I'm surrounded by people who understand the importance of decolonizing systems, advocating for our people and using our stories as medicine. I've learned that my voice is a tool for change, and my story is one of survival and transformation. The grief of losing loved ones has also shaped who I've become. I carry their memories with me — especially my late family members from Sagkeeng First Nation, whom I will honour during the cultural presentation of this pageant. I'll be dancing the old style jingle dress dance, a dance of healing, with their urns and photos beside me. This isn't just a performance. It's a ceremony. It's my way of saying: I remember you. I carry you. And I'm still dancing. I carry my ancestors in my heart, my son on my shoulders and my community in every step I take. - Tamara Fontaine Deciding to apply for Miss Indigenous Canada was both exciting and terrifying. I didn't grow up seeing people like me in spaces like this, but I realized that's exactly why I needed to step into it. This pageant isn't about glamour. It's about healing, leadership and pride. It's a chance to tell our stories on a national stage, to inspire our youth and to reclaim our voices. When I found out I had been accepted as a contestant, I cried. It felt like a quiet victory for every younger version of myself who thought she wasn't good enough. I thought about my son and how he'll be watching me from the audience, and I knew I made the right decision. I want him to see what it means to walk in pride, to stand in ceremony and to carry your ancestors with you every step of the way. To the teenage moms who might be reading this or hearing me on the radio: I see you. I know how heavy the world can feel when it's telling you that you won't make it. But you will. Your story is not over. You are raising the next generation with love, and that alone is powerful. Your child is not a setback. They are your strength, your reason, your fire. Being a contestant in Miss Indigenous Canada isn't just about a title. It's a reflection of every hardship I've faced, every community that held me up and every lesson I've learned about resilience, motherhood and identity. I carry my ancestors in my heart, my son on my shoulders and my community in every step I take.

'We're bringing Ashley back,' mother says at memorial walk 1 year after 28-year-old's death
'We're bringing Ashley back,' mother says at memorial walk 1 year after 28-year-old's death

CBC

time25-06-2025

  • CBC

'We're bringing Ashley back,' mother says at memorial walk 1 year after 28-year-old's death

WARNING: This story contains details of violence against Indigenous women. Almost a year after a First Nations woman was killed in downtown Winnipeg, her family and loved ones held a memorial walk on Tuesday to honour her life and bring her spirit back to the support centre where she felt most at home. They gathered at Central Park on Tuesday afternoon to remember 28-year-old Ashley Isabella Murdock, who was from Fisher River and Jackhead First Nation. They drummed, sang and gave speeches there while holding signs that read "For Ashley" and "In Honour of Ashley Murdock," before walking to the Wahbung Abinoonjiiag Inc. support service and healing centre on Dufferin Avenue. "I want to bring her back to Wahbung, where that was her safe place. That was her home there. That's why I'm doing this walk," said Deidra Telenko Murdock, Ashley's mother. "We're bringing Ashley back to Wahbung. She's going to say 'Finally, I'm here." Murdock's body was found at an apartment block on Kennedy Street between Ellice and Qu'Appelle avenues on July 5, 2024 — a day before her birthday. Homicide investigators said she was killed in a different location and her body was later moved to Kennedy Street. She had been reported missing two days before her body was found. She had not been in contact with family or community members since June 26. Seven people were arrested and charged in connection with her death, Winnipeg police confirmed Tuesday. Two people have been sentenced, while three others are still before the court. Charges against one person have been stayed. Along the walk through downtown Winnipeg, Murdock's family stopped at two apartment buildings — one on Edmonton Street, where she was believed to have been killed, and the Kennedy Street complex where her body was found. At the buildings, the group drummed, sang songs and called out her spirit name: South Buffalo Calf Woman. "When I looked at that building, I thought, 'It's time for you to come, my girl,'" her mother said after the group reached Wahbung Abinoonjiiag for a celebration of life ceremony. "I knew she was already gone, but I just felt that that horrible crime that happened there, she just had to be brought back to her safe place here." She said her daughter was a fighter who had the loudest laugh in the room. Telenko Murdock also said she won't stop fighting until her daughter gets justice, and she's working to raise awareness so that other grieving families of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls get the support they need. "It's been one year, and I'm still trying to figure out how to navigate this whole system. There's nothing," she said, adding the lack of financial and systemic support for families makes it hard to heal. "I'm asking for supports for the families that are left behind." 1-year memorial walk held for Ashley Murdock 2 hours ago Duration 1:31 Family, friends, and supporters gathered and walked Tuesday to honour Ashley Murdock, whose body was found in a Winnipeg apartment building on July 5, 2024. Murdock, originally from Fisher River and Jackhead First Nation, was 28 when she died. Seven people were arrested in connection with her death. Support is available for anyone affected by these reports and the issue of missing and murdered Indigenous people. Immediate emotional assistance and crisis support are available 24 hours a day, seven days a week through a national hotline at 1-844-413-6649.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store