I first met Tanner in Lennox Island First Nation on Prince Edward Island. He joined a few other members of Hey Cuzzins drum group to record part of an Indigenous-mixed-punk-rock track with Gilbert Sark and Logen Lewis, as well as a couple other young men.
He was friendly but softspoken. He teased the boy whose bike I was trying to fix. He carried a book of handwritten rap lyrics and had a skull tattooed on his right hand.
He kissed the medicine bag around his neck. That’s when I decided I wanted to share his story.
We talked for a whle, watching rain pool on the cracked concrete, but I would be lying if I said I really knew his past life. What I do know, however, is that the tattoos on his hands aren’t the only skeletons he carries. I know he’s fought harder than I can really imagine to leave his past behind and get his life to where it is now. I know that at his core is strength and determination. That doesn’t mean perfection, and that doesn’t mean not making mistakes. It does mean that he’s picked himself every time he’s fallen, and when he couldn’t do that he’s held out his hand.
“For my dreams to come true, I’ve got to work twenty four hours, seven days a week. You had to go through a lot of pain to see the opening, you know what I mean?”
I got in touch a couple days ago and we were able to talk on the phone. That was his answer to my question about how he had gotten to be where he was. I asked him where those dreams had come from.
“I always had it in me when I was a kid,” he said. “I just always wanted something bigger than my life was going to be.”
Last month he was selected to be part of Msit No’Kmaq: All My Relations, a project bringing together 45 Indigenous youth from across Canada to sail from Nova Scotia to France. They are called Warriors of The Red Road at Sea and over the next month will be learning to connect the Seven Sacred Teachings of courage, humility, love, respect, wisdom, honesty and truth into their own lives, continuing to learn and share their culture and walk that path in a good way.
They leave tomorrow. Tanner takes another step in his journey.
Another part of what has brought him to where he is is the adults and mentors walking alongside him. “They’ve done a lot,” he said to me. “They never gave up on me. Brent never gave up on me. I missed forty days of school and he kept on coming to pick me up. He just thinks I’m an incredible person.”
Tanner’s story isn’t over. Far from it. But it has transformed from what it was into a story of strength and healing. I can still see him, one hand holding his drum stick the other pressing his medicine bag against his lips, clear eyes and a song in his heart.
I asked him at the end of our conversation what advice he would give to other young people facing the same struggles he has.
“Just one step at a time, one day at a time. If you’re going through struggles then face them, because it’s reality. You know, unfortunately it’s not good what people go through but it makes them a better person at the end of the day.”
In that, I hear hope. Because I hear Tanner calling himself a better person, which perhaps began when he realized that Brent thought he was an incredible person. The day I met him, I wrote: “I’m proud to have crossed paths with this strong, proud young man who is in the midst of transforming his life.” I feel that now more than ever.
My thoughts are with you, Tanner. Keep carrying hope.