Indigenous tourism helps me share Miyo-pimatisiwin — and other lessons my dad taught me

This First Person article is the experience of Blaine Mirasty, who is Cree from Flying Dust First Nation, Saskatchewan and lives in Edmonton. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see the FAQ. 

WARNING: This story contains details of experiences at residential schools.

I was eight when my dad started teaching me how to set snares, identify different animal tracks and how to spot a rabbit trail in the bush trails around our home in Flying Dust First Nation. Shortly after, I snared a rabbit, while my father showed me how we’d lay down tobacco and pay respect to the Creator for allowing us to eat. 

With time, I learned how to set better snares by trial and error and how to read the rabbit paths in the snow. I would take the skinned rabbit to my grandmother’s place down the road, where she’d turn it into rabbit stew served with bannock.

To me, traditional native food is always more satisfying to eat, as you gain better respect for the animal after harvesting it yourself and going through the process of snaring, cleaning and watching how it is made into a stew.

These memories are threads in the larger fabric of what it means to be Nehiyaw (Cree)