Letter to the Editor:

Flashing before my eyes is a dog snarling at the end of a too short chain with no dry spot to stand. His home, rusted car metal laying around him. Another picture of a young adult his head resting on the desk. Hung over, tired, dirty with no place to call his own because there are only two bedrooms and 10 or more people. Young aduts setting up home in a bedroom with a baby at 16. Dogs yelping in pain as they are shot. My deep love and dedication to my students. To the deep sadness that will never leave me. Another picture of a young student smiling at me in hope. Dead a week later of suicide. Teachers working themselves past all hours working with the kids. Children having children. Seventy percent of the people here under thirty. How the dogs can't decide what they want more food or a pat. The gentleness of most of the dogs and the kids. The love I feel for both. Outhouses behind every door. Graves sprinkled around the houses by the lake in the yards by the back door. The garbage, the poverty, the despair. The low literacy level - teaching kids in grade 9 who only have a grade 3 literacy level. The exhaustion I feel every day trying to get through apathy and low motivation. Then there is the laughter of the kids and their gentleness. The corruption on the reserve. The incredibly high alcohol and sniffing population. The emblezlement of funds. The hiring and firing depending on political affliations. Reserves don't work for anyone animal or human.

Teacher who can not be identified