University at 81

September 4, 2004

I wrote this four years ago - I don't think it was ever published. In the end, I spent that year auditing the Ojibwe language class, thanks to the kindness of Professor Edna Manitowabi. It was a wonderful experience for me, and since then I have continued to study the language and to make friends within the urban Aboriginal community in Peterborough, for which I give thanks.

But this is what I was thinking on the day I went to "sign up".

Will I look different?

Today my grandson, Paul, gave me a one-day pre-orientation tour of Trent University, Peterborough where I am admitted as a first-year, part-time student in the Introduction to Ojibway course.

Next week I will be able to join first-year students as they enter orientation week. As Paul and I walked across the campus and through the halls of Otonobee College, I realized I was seeing young people, mostly teenagers newly out of high school. I didn't see anyone in my age group (unlike travelling in tourist areas in September, attending seniors' recreation programs, or worshipping in my parish church where my head blends inconspicuously into the sea of grey).

Over coffee later, I asked my grandson, 19 years old, and returning to Trent for his second year in history: "Will I look different? Will I be seen as being different from everyone else on campus?" He thought for a moment. "Well, Granny, you usually wear clothes not much different from other students, so that helps." I expect he was referring to my billboard T-shirts, which make a number of statements, mostly about Aboriginal justice issues. "So you won't stand out in what you wear."

But will the students see me as an old person in their midst?

Paul thought again. "We are used to seeing 'mature students' - those about 30 years of age - and sometimes a few in my parents' age group". That's about 50 - his mother is my daughter. Maybe I qualify more as a "mature and well-ripened" student?

Only time will tell, of course, but I have suddenly become conscious of the fact that I will be within a large community of people where I, at 81 years of age, will be somewhat different from my peers. Even professors aren't usually in my age group. So another question - how will they receive me?

On that score, I am somewhat reassured, since my years of being accepted among Aboriginal people just for who I am, not what they want me to be, have helped me to believe that I can embark on this new challenge in my life. Moreover, I know that at least within the Ojibway language class, I will simply be accepted as an elder who is still learning - my Anishnabe brothers and sisters will understand that.

So I look forward to the next few months with enthusiasm, not only for what I will learn in a classroom, but also for the new insights I will receive as I pursue my dream.

In that, I am no different from the teenagers who will be passing me on the stairs and in the halls, but also, if I'm lucky, helping me to open heavy doors and to find may way in the labyrinth of academia.

Today is July 5, 2008 - and yes, I was accepted by the students with no questions asked. And it was great fun to meet young Aboriginal people from across the country, with several from Manitoulin Island where I had known their families - mostely grandparents - 40 years ago. There was a sense of coming home, or a circle somehow being completed.

Life is indeed a marvellous journey, and I have been so very fortunate. Gchi miigwech, Gizhe Manidoo.

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