An Ocean of Tears, A Ribbon of Road - Highway 63, and 2016

When the invitation popped into my email inbox I knew I would say yes. A "sneak peek" media tour of the newly twinned section of Highway 63, 36 km near Wandering River, travelling on a Red Arrow bus, and in the presence of some local and provincial politicians. What caught my attention, though, was the statement at the bottom of the release indicating that "announcement materials" would be made available on the bus, and that the entire trip would be subject to a media embargo until a certain time (an embargo means you are held to secrecy until the information is made public to all). I think I knew right then that something big was going to happen, and I knew in my heart what it was.

You see this has been a long journey, this trip on Highway 63. I have always travelled that highway, many times in the decade we have lived here, but on April 27 of this year it became in integral part of my life in ways I never expected. That night, after a day that saw seven people die on that highway, two survive, and hundreds of lives changed forever, I sat down at my laptop and opened this blog. One of my favourite quotes about writing is this: "Writing is easy - you just sit down at a keyboard and open up a vein." And that's what I did that late spring night. I sat down, opened a vein, and bled pain and fear and sorrow and anger all over this blog page. I did it in the form of an open letter to Premier Alison Redford, and I cried while I wrote it, sickened by the deaths of so many, but particularly by that of one little girl named Faith, who was only one year younger than my own child. I closed my laptop and went to bed, never expecting my world would be forever changed by one simple act. I woke up in the morning to discover thousands had already read the letter, and the readers kept coming. I woke up to requests for interviews with provincial media covering the accident. I woke up to discover that Highway 63 and I had started a journey together.

Since that day I could not tell you the number of times I have written, talked, or thought about Highway 63. I have researched it, written about it, discussed it, and mourned over it as more lives were lost. I travelled on it again several times, but with new eyes each time, seeing things in ways I never had before. And somehow I earned the moniker "passionate advocate for my community", a name I am proud to bear, but one I wish had never come to me through tragedy. I have been to several press conferences about Highway 63, like when newly-elected MLA Mike Allen was named Special Advisor. The one on Friday was different, though. The one on Friday is when, just as I asked in April, the rubber hit the road.

The bus ride down to Wandering River was mostly silent, early as it was. Coffee in hand I did some work, and then the officials passed out some announcement materials. First was the announcement that, weather permitting, the newly twinned section would open this month, not next year as anticipated. This was good news, but I had the sense that there was more. And I was correct. The next document handed to me was the one I had been wanting to see for months. My hands shook as I read. It said simply that Highway 63 twinning had been fast-tracked. And the new date proposed was the fall of 2016.

I will admit it because you likely know already. I had tears in the corners of my eyes as I read it, as I read the plans to fund the twinning, and as I read a document that I see as a pledge and commitment to saving lives. I read it again and again, trying to absorb every nuance, and then, before I knew it, we were at Wandering River and driving on that new blacktop highway.

When the buses had stopped, one from Edmonton full of media and dignitaries, one from Athabasca, and ours, we filed out into the brisk wind and cool fall temperatures and light rain. We gathered in front of a podium and waited as politicians took their turns in making announcements, and then, finally, Minister of Transportation Ric McIver said the date. He said the year 2016, and it was official. There were smiling faces all around, and there was a sense of accomplishment. As we stood there, in the distance where vehicles drove on the still untwinned section of Highway 63, horns sounded as people drove by and realized that something, something big, was happening, and it involved the highway that is the lifeline of our community.

To commemorate the opening of  the newly twinned section they had at the ready a vehicle to drive on the fresh pavement, and again there was the photo op as politicians removed the barricades so the vehicle could drive on through. There was photo ops with local emergency vehicles, and there was the usual media scrums. For myself, though, there was this other need.

I snuck away close to the end of things and walked to the edge of the new blacktop. I removed my gloves, so needed to protect my hands from the cold fall air, and I leaned down. I touched my hand to the blacktop, and laid it there, feeling the black surface gently. There were some highway construction workers standing there and they found this very amusing, this woman touching the road they had just built, and they asked what I was doing. I looked up and told them that this is what success looks like in Fort McMurray, that success looks like twinned pavement stretching from Grassland right into our community.

You see, as I touched that asphalt I was thinking about all the lives that had ended on blacktop just like the one underneath my hand. I thought about the hundreds of lives changed, and the ocean of tears shed, some of them my own. I thought about how this blacktop, this simple road, could save lives, and as I watched cars and trucks drive by on the non-twinned section of Highway 63 I thought perhaps it could save their lives and they would never even know it. There were tears in my eyes again when I stood up, tears remembering some of the names of those who died on Highway 63, and there was something else. There was hope. There was faith.

As I said in interviews with media later that day I am optimistic. I am hopeful that all the things needed to accomplish twinning are in place, like money and commitment and a timeline. I also indicated that the community would be watching, and that we would hold those in power to account. I said that we would make sure this pledge and commitment was not forgotten, and that while we had optimism it was not blind.

After I arrived home from the announcement I sat down to write a story on it for a local newspaper, and I struggled horribly with it. I suppose it is because it was so difficult to write a dry and facts-based piece on a little highway in northern Alberta that has become the ribbon that runs through not just our boreal forest but my life. In some ways my life now feels tied to that highway, like we began an intimate dance on April 27, 2012, a dance that is nowhere near finished and really just beginning. As I wrote I kept remembering the feel of the cold asphalt under my hand, and I kept remembering how this highway was where so many lives have ended. Finally, in the end, I gave up and shut my laptop, too overwhelmed once again to finish that piece on the highway, a piece that would need to wait for me to sort out some of my personal feelings over it all.

Late that night, in my kitchen, I lit a candle. I lit it in memory of little Faith, and the memory of all those who died on Highway 63. I lit it thinking about the lives that would be saved, and I lit it thinking about how that highway had changed so many lives, including my own. When I blew the candle out I stood there in total darkness, the only light the streetlights shining through my kitchen windows, and I wept as the tears I had held in all day were finally released. I cried an ocean of tears for a ribbon of road, and for all those who had been bound to it in some way by the same ribbon that binds me to it. I cried until I could cry no more, and then I went to bed, hoping and believing that in the fall of 2016 I will cry again as I touch my hand to a fully twinned ribbon of road that meanders through the boreal forest, and right into the heart of our community.

Not On The Margin - One Woman in The Oil Sands

Sometimes an event irritates me so much that I don't even know where to start. It gets to me on so many levels that I have trouble sorting out all my issues with it, let alone knowing which one to get going on first. This happened recently when a lovely group of women dropped into Fort McMurray to chat about the Northern Gateway Pipeline and the impact on women.

When I say it's a lovely group I mean it. The group included some very notable women, Nobel Peace Prize Laureate Jody Williams, musician Sarah Harmer, and other women with very respectable titles and backgrounds. I have a great deal of respect for them in every regard, except for the things they seem to think about women in my community. They seem, for whatever reason, to have decided to label us "marginalized". They think that oil sands development "undermines" women.

Now, this irritates me on a few levels. I too am a woman, and I do not seek or want preferential treatment due to my gender. I think that simply deepens the gender divide, and I do not wish to play into that scenario. So a group coming here to specifically examine the impacts of a pipeline on women gets me a bit concerned immediately, as clearly the pipeline affects far more than women, and perhaps the study could just be examining the effect on "people" as opposed to one gender. It gets worse, though, when a group of women from other places and who have never lived here decide to tell local women what we are and what we need. You see, in their opinion we are "marginalized" and we "don't want the pipeline".

Er, say what? For starters, I don't need anyone to tell me whether or not I want or need the pipeline. I didn't ask them to speak for me, and I'm not sure how many local women actually did. I can pretty much formulate my own opinion and state it, and I find their desire to speak for "women" deeply patronizing. In fact, if a group of men claimed they were speaking for regional women and declared what we thought we would likely denounce those men as being patriarchal and controlling - so why is it okay for a group of women to do it to other women? How about they simply speak for themselves and let local women (and men) formulate and voice their own opinions?

Secondly, there's this business of being marginalized. I don't know how much time they spent here, but I do know they met with our mayor, who happens to be a woman. I wonder if they met any of the oil sands management types who are women. Or maybe some of the women electricians, truck drivers, pipe fitters, and others employed in non-traditional roles. Or if they met any of our female RMWB councillors (we have three, in case they were wondering). Or any of the women who run businesses in town, work in management positions in businesses, or even those who are stay at home moms by choice because their spouses have the kind of employment that allows them to make that choice. Look, it pisses me off because I'd say most women in this region aren't even slightly marginalized - I'd say we are absolutely empowered by living in a place where the need is for skilled, ambitious workers regardless of their gender. I'm actually pretty offended by this characterization of us as "marginalized" when I think we have incredible opportunities here, afforded to us by an industry and economy that is robust and growing. And those opportunities are open to all of us, regardless of our gender.

So, in my mind this isn't about women being marginalized, undermined, or anything else. This is simply another tactic by people interested in stopping the pipeline, and whatever your stance is on that this is mine: I don't like being used as a pawn in your game. Don't speak for me, don't tell me you are helping me, and don't tell me I am marginalized or undermined when I know I am anything but. Don't use our common gender to help your agenda - and don't tell me you didn't come with an agenda, since news stories from before you arrived indicated your desire to stop the pipeline development. Admit that you speak for yourselves, and only yourselves, and leave me and my gender out of it, please. If there are others who wish you to speak for them that's fine with me - but please don't espouse to speak for all women who are affected by oil sands development. For the record, I'm a woman, I am from Fort McMurray, I am impacted by oil sands development - and you don't speak for me.

Wood Buffalo Brewing Co (Or Beer, Biz and Community)

There are some things in this community that cause a certain level of excitement. The opening of a new coffee shop, restaurant, or pub is pretty likely to generate some buzz since our options are a bit limited in those categories. And the opening of a brew pub where the beer being served is crafted and brewed here? Well, that takes that buzz and makes it into a roar of thunder, because the excitement is tremendous.

And that's exactly what I told Socrates Korogonas when I had the chance to speak to him a couple of weeks ago. Socrates isn't new to this brew pub business, having opened now successfully operating brew pubs in both Banff and Jasper (with his partners). Socrates can speak quite passionately not just about running brew pubs but about the art of beer making, and we spent a fair bit of time speaking about that. The other thing he is passionate about, though, is community, and we talked a lot about that, too. First, though, let's talk about the beer.

Socrates shared with me a theory that has been put forward, a theory that states that modern agriculture arose due to the discovery of beer. It makes a bit of sense, actually, as in order to make beer one needs the ingredients, and a secure supply of those is best obtained through growing your own. Now, it may seem like a bit of a stretch that it was beer that inspired civilization (and really, agriculture and civilization are intimately linked) but it certainly seems possible. I do know that beer and other alcohol has certainly influenced our social development, both in good ways and bad. The rise of alcohol, the establishment of taverns and pubs - these changed the ways humans socialize and have been a part of our social history for thousands of years, and so too has the art of brewing beer.

You see the new pub to be opened in Fort McMurray will be called Wood Buffalo Brewing Co. And that's not just a name, people, because the beer being served will be crafted right here, by a brewmaster. And it will be made using local water, filtered only to remove the chlorine. Each of Socrates' brew pubs do this, use local water to make their beer, and so each and every pub serves beers entirely unique to the place it is made. In essence we aren't just getting a brew pub, people - we are getting our very own brews, unique to our region and reflective of who we are.

That's one of the things we discussed, too, beer culture and how it reflects the culture of the people who drink it. We talked about how people might have a favourite taste and style of beer, but how they can be encouraged to branch out into other tastes and styles if they are introduced to them, and this is one of the things Socrates and his partners plan to do with our local beer culture. First they want to learn what sort of beer is being consumed here - and then they want to help local beer drinkers to expand their palate, discover new styles and tastes, and explore the world of beer crafting.

And then we spoke about community, which is where Socrates got me. As everyone who reads this blog knows I am passionate about community, and so is Socrates. He told me about his sense of our pride in our region, and about how he wants people in this community to "take ownership" of the new brew pub, to see it as part of the community. He told me that he sees us as a unique and passionate set of people, and that he wants us to be as proud of the brew that will have our name as he will be. And he told me that he wants to be involved in our community, to become a part of it and get to know us. Socrates speaks with passion and fire, and not just about beer or business, but about community, and frankly that outranks both beer and business for me. By the end of the conversation he and I were chatting like old friends, and I knew that he would fit so well into our culture, both of beer and community.

I asked him the question I have been asked about the brew pub, which is "When will you open?" - and his response was one that both surprised and pleased me. He replied that they would open when they are ready, when they have enough beer brewed to meet demand, when the product is one of which they can be proud, and when they know they can do this well. As Socrates says "you don't get a second chance to make a first impression", and he intends to make this first impression a very lasting, and positive, one.

And that, people, is what Socrates did for me, too. The first impression I walked away with was overwhelmingly positive, not just about the Wood Buffalo Brewing Co but about the people running it. I walked away with the sense that Socrates and his partners aren't just about beer (although never doubt their passion for that subject, as I don't) or business, but also about community and commitment to excellence in all areas. I am terrifically excited about the opening of the new brew pub, but I am tempering my excitement with patience as I know that good things take time, and I am willing to wait. I know that you never get a second chance to make a first impression, and I know that if the new brew pub is at all reflective of Socrates Koroganas then it will be the kind of positive first impression that lasts for a very, very long time.

My sincere thanks to

Socrates Korogonas

for talking beer, business, and 

community with me :)

Wood Buffalo Brewing Co.

is coming to you soon in

The Morrison Centre
 at the corner of

Franklin and Morrison.

It Takes a Village - St. Aidan's Society

The phrase “it takes a village to raise a child” has been so often used that one may think it is a cliché without meaning – and yet is so true, and perhaps no more true than in the case of children who require foster care. These are children who have families, but who require the care of foster parents because their own parents are struggling and are unable to provide adequate care for them. And this is where the village – our community, and foster parents – comes in.

Recently I had a chance to chat with someone from St. Aidan’s House Society, one of the local organizations that are contracted with our provincial government to provide foster care for children in need. St. Aidan’s has a long history in our community, going all the way back to 1973 when Family Court Judge Harry Aime recognized the need for foster care families in this area. Judge Aime saw many children requiring care passing through his court, and he realized that there was a gap in the system to assist them – and so St. Aidan’s Society, a non-denominational organization to create foster care, was formed.

I must admit I have little personal knowledge of foster care, but I have, in the past, known foster parents who often had foster children in their care. I always had tremendous respect for these individuals, as they open their homes and their families to children in need, but they do so much more than just that. You see, where it is safe and appropriate foster parents are encouraged to keep contact with the parents of the foster children in their care, and so the bounds of family stretch even a bit further as it begins to encompass not just the children but the parents too. It seems it takes a special person, and special families, to do this task, and this is what St. Aidan’s is seeking. Every year the good folks at St. Aidan’s reach out into the community to find new foster families, because there are always children in need.

It isn’t just a matter of having enough foster families, either, but having the right foster families for each child. St. Aidan’s tries to match foster parents and foster children carefully, with the goal of never having a foster placement break down. And so they can never really have enough qualified foster families, as a larger pool of families means more chances to find the perfect fit for each child, thus proving beneficial for all involved. There are challenges to finding foster families, though, because it does take special people.

Fostering takes special people who are willing to commit time and energy to completing several courses on everything from First Aid to Caregiver Orientation, undergoing criminal records checks, and a rigorous application process. It takes people who have the ability to see inside a child with behaviour issues and find the little person within, the one who needs nurturing and care. It takes a people who can adjust their family dynamics to integrate another child into it. It takes people who can put aside personal judgement and see that the parents of children in care need support, not judging. It takes people willing to create a village to raise a child.

Foster parents are often those who may have had experience with the system themselves, perhaps having been foster children or in families that have fostered children. While that experience gives them some fundamental understanding of the nuances it isn’t necessary to become a foster parent. It seems the only real thing required to become a foster parent is the desire to make a difference in the life of a child.

You see adults do make differences in the lives of children. Children look to us for love and attention and care and guidance. Children, our own biological ones or those of others, need us to give them what they need to become contributing members of our society. And sometimes they need a little bit more, and they need foster parents to step in when their own parents are unable, for whatever length of time and reason, to provide those things. That is what St. Aidan’s does – it matches children in need with foster parents with care and love to give, and to do so it needs foster families – like yours.

Yes, people, like yours. Perhaps you have experience with the foster care system, and perhaps you don’t. Perhaps you have often wondered about fostering children, or perhaps you’ve never given it much thought but you know that there are children in need who might benefit from your family. I can’t say it will be easy should you choose to become a foster parent – but I think I can safely say it will be rewarding. One of the things missing in the phrase “it takes a village to raise a child” is mention of what it does for those in the village. You see our future rises and falls on the future of our children, as they hold the future of us all in their tiny little hands. The rewards are both personal and village-wide, as we ensure that all children in our village receive the love and care and attention that they need for a bright future. Their bright future is the bright future of the village. It takes a special family to ensure that bright future. Could that special family be yours?

St. Aidan’s House Society

Can be contacted at

780-881-0922

Please consider foster parenting –

You could be the special person

That makes the difference in the life of one child.

Project "Think Big" Hard Hat

Photo courtesy of MacDonald Island Park

As I wrote in this blog a few weeks ago I had the pleasure of attending the ground-breaking ceremony for the expansion of MacDonald Island Park. As some know Mac Island has been a part of my life here since I first arrived over a decade ago, and I have watched it grow and change just as my own Intrepid Junior Blogger has grown and changed in that decade (those years, witnessing her go from a toddler of three to a young woman of thirteen, have been some of the very best of my entire life, people). When I attended the groundbreaking I noticed the prevalence of white hard hats, all emblazoned with the words "Think Big".

Now, I tend to think in a slightly odd way, and I was intrigued by those hard hats. I thought about how we in this community have a tendency to think big, and about how we seem to find ways to constantly push the envelope of innovation and creativity. I thought about how these hard hats are emblematic not just of Mac Island and their bold expansion plans, but of our entire region and our bold approach to life.

At the groundbreaking ceremonies those hard hats were being worn by the people I affectionately refer to as "the usual suspects" - dignitaries like our lovely mayor Melissa Blake and our two MLAs Mike Allen and Don Scott and various municipal councillors and representatives of MacDonald Island Park. I had an idea, though, and I just needed to get my paws on one of those hard hats. I was delighted when I ran into one of those usual suspects a little later that day and absconded with their hat (terrific word, "absconded", meaning I stole it and ran away). Fortunately this suspect is a good sport and knew their hat was in good hands - and so the white Think Big hard hat and I went on a little adventure as I am prone to do. I dubbed it "Project Think Big Hard Hat".

You see, I put the hat in the back of my car, and we visited some people in the community. Not dignitaries, mind you, but some community leaders, and some people who work in non-profit groups. We also went to some businesses, and we even attended the Vibrant Culture Summit. I put the word out on Twitter, too, asking people to volunteer. Volunteer to do what, you ask?

To put on the hard hat and be photographed for the blog. To put that hat on their head and to show that they too "Think Big", no matter what they do in this community. To show that all of the RMWB "thinks big", not just our dignitaries (although I am so very proud that our leaders have the bold vision and passion to think big and to help us navigate our way through some of the potential pitfalls of such boldness). I wanted to show in the end that we all Think Big in this region, and to honour MacDonald Island Park, too, for being at the forefront of thinking big and embracing the future that awaits us all.

These are the results:

We stopped by Rock 97.9

and 

Country 93.3...

 We dropped in at a local business...

We stopped by the Wood Buffalo Food Bank...

We checked in with the folks at Canadian Jewellers...

We checked out the Vibrant Culture Summit...

We stopped in to visit a friend...

We checked out the printing presses at

The Fort McMurray Today...

And finally we hung out with the real reason we

all "Think Big" in this community - 

our children.

This is the Intrepid Junior Blogger -

and she thinks big, too.

My sincere thanks to

everyone who agreed to wear the hard hat

and be photographed,

to MacDonald Island Park

for creating the hat that

spawned the adventure,

and to the "usual suspect"

who handed over their hat to me

without a fuss ;)

Taking A Stand on the Banks of the Snye

Recently as a result of some homework from RMWB Leadership Bootcamp I created a little online survey and asked the public to anonymously evaluate how I am doing. I was very interested in the responses, and I will write about those in more detail at a later date. One of the responses that appeared again and again, though, was the encouragement to continue taking a stand. I was told repeatedly to not be afraid to voice my opinion, whatever it is, and to accept that while it may not please everyone that if it is true and genuine and authentic then it should be shared. And so today I choose to take a stand, and I do so on the banks of the Snye.

I've followed the controversy regarding the Snye very closely. I've spoken to both sides, I've gone to an engagement session from the RMWB, I've perused the draft waterfront plan, and I have, in fact, gone down and walked along the Snye, gazing at it and back at the community around it. And I have come to my own opinion about what should happen in our downtown core, and why.

I think the plan to revitalize our downtown, including the waterfront plan, is absolutely fundamentally crucial to our development. I do not want to see our community become nothing but suburbs, with a downtown that slowly withers and dies. I do not want to see our downtown become nothing but boarded up buildings, or drug deals on corners. I want to see it become a vibrant place where people work and live and play, and I think the plan to revitalize our downtown core does that. And I truly believe, to the core of my being, that it is essential if we are to avoid going down a very dark path as we experience exponential growth.

As for the Snye, the main bone of contention - I think, perhaps, the time has come for there to be a quiet oasis of water in this city, a place free of motorized boats and float planes and snowmobiles. I fully understand the historic significance of the Snye, and that it has been used this way for decades. But the argument that it has been this way for decades simply isn't enough to convince me. Many things have existed or been done for decades, from apartheid to the Berlin Wall to the Cold War to washing dishes by hand - but that doesn't mean just because it was always that way it should remain that way. If that is truly the way we think we would never move to a new house simply because we've lived in the old one for decades, and most of us would never leave home, change jobs, or have children. Change is what we DO because we are human, and we change - and so do our communities.

In the draft waterfront plan there is accommodation being made for float planes and motorized watercraft, just not on the Snye itself. And I'm okay with that, as I am okay with a small spot of water in the middle of this community where the only sounds heard are laughter and birds, not motor boats and float planes. I will be delighted to see the float planes take off at their new moorings, and to see boats depart for adventures from their new launch. It just might not be on the Snye itself.

I have been deeply troubled by certain aspects of the Snye debate. I have been dismayed by people having their opinions dismissed simply because they didn't grow up here, or haven't lived here "long enough" (although I don't know who gets to determine what "long enough" is - five years, ten years, twenty years, a lifetime?). I have been dismayed that it has been portrayed as a battle between old and new, past and present, progress and status quo, when it is NONE of those things. It is, simply, a difference of opinions, and one that should be open to dialogue, not divisiveness. It should not be a situation where attacks are the norm, although I expect I may be attacked for having the audacity to voice my opinion publicly. I was called a "PR pansy" recently (although I think they *might* have meant "patsy") and I was saddened simply because it showed how little they know about me and what I do, as I write this blog entirely for free, have devoted over a year of my life to it, and the opinions in it are nothing but my own, endorsed and paid for by no one. I promise you that anyone who voiced their opinion to me was not judged or dismissed - it just may be that I don't agree with you, but it doesn't mean I disrespect your opinion or your right to hold it, and I would hope you can grant me the same courtesy.

Here's the thing, though. If you think I am wrong you can voice your opinion, too. There is one last public engagement session on the waterfront draft plan, and it takes place this Saturday. You can go and speak to the folks from the RMWB like I have, you can make suggestions, and you can voice your opinion. You can go right here to view the draft waterfront plan and access the online questionnaire. I have my opinion, and I have now shared it openly. You have yours, and you can share it, too. All I ask, in the end, is that we don't allow a difference of opinion and rhetoric to divide us as a community when that is the last thing anyone of us want or need. In the end I would like to see us all standing on the banks of the Snye together, regardless of what it looks like when all is said and done.

The final public engagement session

regarding the RMWB Draft Waterfront Program

is on

Saturday October 13th

from 11 - 2 at

MacDonald Island Park.

I encourage ALL residents

to go, and to listen to ALL

opinions with respect 

as we are all in this together.

Taken to The Extremities At Keyano Theatre

One of the great perks of this job is that I am now considered media, and thanks to the wonderful groups and organizations in the community I often find myself invited to events in that role. Sometimes it means I get a sneak peek behind the scenes as they set up a gala, or a backstage pass to meet a band. Last night, however, it meant I got to participate in the media call for the new play at Keyano Theatre, a play called Extremities - and one that I think will provoke a lot of discussion, and, perhaps, emotion.

When I saw the advertising for Extremities a few weeks ago I was a bit startled by the imagery. I had heard the synopsis of the play, about the dark nature of a story of an attempted rape and the aftermath in the lives of four people. The picture, though, is a haunting one. It is troubling on many levels, and perhaps most of all because it isn't just fiction, as we all know that violence is a reality.

Last night I arrived at Keyano Theatre with a few other media types, and we laughed and joked together before the director and stage designer met with us for interviews. Oddly enough I didn't speak to them, perhaps because I wanted to see the brief bit of the play they were going to present for us that night before speaking to anyone about it. I didn't want to know anything - I wanted to go in blind just as an audience member would, not having any inside knowledge of the director's vision or anything else. And so that is what I did, and I took my third row seat to watch as four marvelous local actors played out a brief two minute scene from the play.

The set itself is a bit unsettling, the wooden floor sloped and unsteady looking, the walls and door frames wonky and at unusual angles. It is perhaps the first clue that what you are about to see is a world gone topsy-turvy, full of shifting moods and emotions, moods and emotions and dialogue and action as unsettling as the set.

On the stage were the four actors in this play, a small cast for a play that packs a powerful punch. They played the scene twice, and the first time I took photos, which distracted me from listening to the dialogue. The second time, though, I put my iPhone down and listened to every word, and what I heard had my heart and mind racing almost immediately.

You see I won't tell you what was said in those two minutes, because I think you should go see this play and hear it for yourself. I will tell you that, as a woman, I have had those words said to me by others, by men and by women, and that those words in my own life made me angry and sad and deeply, deeply hurt. I suspect most women have heard some version of those words, even those of us (like me) who have never been the victim of an assault. Sometimes we hear those words just because we are women.

In that brief two minute scene I caught a glimpse of a play that will not be easy to watch. It will not be light and happy and playful and comfortable. It will be as challenging to watch as it is challenging to act, a fact I confirmed with Nathan Loitz, the incredibly gifted actor who plays the male role in the play. He and I chatted afterwards, as I have had the pleasure of meeting him before. He is clearly passionate about the play and his role, and as he acknowledged you will either love or hate this play - there is no middle ground.

As for me - well, in two minutes I found myself experiencing a variety of emotions, including rage. I found myself slightly open-mouthed and on the edge of my seat. I found myself both wanting to see the rest of the play and dreading it slightly, knowing that it will not be easy to walk out of the theatre untouched by the experience - but that's the beauty of it.

I think drama should touch us. We could only see light and happy plays all the time, but does that provoke us, inspire us, change us? Does it make us think? I have nothing against happy at all, but at times I think we need something to come along that stops us dead in our tracks, that challenges us and makes us question and makes us think. I think sometimes we need to be taken to the extreme edges of ourselves, and left on the brink to consider the path that led us there. And so this is what Extremities will very likely do for most people - because in just two minutes it did it to me.

This morning I will be purchasing my ticket to see the play next week. I wish I could be there when it opens tonight but my own edgy adventure awaits, a trip down Highway 63 to Edmonton, and so I will not see the entire play until next week. To you, though, I say this: go see Extremities. Don't go thinking that it is light and fluffy and happy because it won't be. It will be dark and searing and possibly even painful, and it is rated R for a reason. Go see it and be taken to the edge of your seat, and the edge of yourself. Go see it and then either love it or hate it, but know why you feel either way. Go see it for four actors who take a difficult play and bring it to life with the help of their director and stage manager and all the others behind the scenes. Go see it, Fort McMurray. Just go, and be prepared to be challenged.

My sincere and genuine thanks to

Keyano Theatre

for inviting me to see a sneak preview of

"Extremities",

and my congratulations to

the cast and crew

on their accomplishment with this play.