Over one hundred years ago my great grandparents came out to the prairies. They came to their slice of raw grassland with a shovel in their hand with a big hope for a better life. The stories I grew up hearing made me shiver as they talked about snow drifts that nearly covered the house and months of near starvation. When we tore down the original homestead some years ago, we found the walls were waist-deep with fine dust from the dirty thirties and the only insulation was a Kellogg’s Corn Flakes cardboard box stuffed in the wall. Life wasn’t easy.
Being a pioneer is difficult. Leaving the comforts or challenges of home and trying to start again is one of the hardest things a person can do. Pioneers are the first on the scene, they set things in motion. They break the ground, start businesses, and build the foundation for all generations to follow. Yet it was in the midst of their challenges that pioneers discovered something of even greater value: each other. Stories of neighbours coming to help in times of loss, of whole communities coming together to raise a barn, and the ways that strangers because closer than family. Whether your last name was French, Ukrainian, Scottish, Metis, or something else, it didn’t matter. Pioneer neighbours were in it together to create something new. These are the people that built our province, and it is this pioneering spirit that we are discovering again, today.
Friends of mine moved to Michigan and discovered that their neighbourhood was racially divided, poor, faced crime, and was struggling in many ways. People had moved away. My friends did what pioneers do best; they decided to start something new and breathe life into it. They bought an abandoned house and an empty plot of land beside it. They were determined to build more than a home, they wanted to create a safe place that was open to the community. They called it, “The Nest,” a safe community space where neighbours knew that they were welcome. Today the Nest hosts the Treehouse Community Garden and produces enough vegetables to feed ten families. It’s a safe place for kids and families to come together, with a library, guest rooms, a big porch, root cellar, and community kitchen. They fixed up the house with local materials and local help; they even paid off the back taxes on the old house. Everything about these pioneers aimed at taking something that was unused and making it good and beautiful again. It has taken years, and the work is only beginning, but they dream of making their neighbourhood their life’s work – a deep and abiding passion to love their little corner of the world. They inspire me.
It is easy to tip our hat to our great grandparents and thank them for building the province where we live and thrive. Their hard work paid off, we might think, and now we can carry on with living. However, when we forget to be pioneers in our own ways and in our own neighbourhoods, we may fall into the trap of becoming hands-off observers and consumers. We buy a house, when we need to build a community. We balk at the decisions of others, when we need to get involved. Becoming a neighbourhood pioneer is not easy, but those communities built on a pioneering spirit are those that stand the test of time. Chestermere is a new city, so almost everyone can view themselves as a pioneer. The question is, will we live into the opportunities we have? Will we break new ground, foster deep and abiding care for those around us, and will we leave a lasting legacy for those who come after us? Now, more than ever, we need to be pioneers in whatever challenge or opportunity we face, together.
