12. University 1981-84

At the office, another nurse had arrived, Diane Wilson. She was a tiny woman, but a fireball. She told me in no uncertain terms that I needed to go to University. I didn’t want to go. Somewhere in training, we had been told that we were better than University nurses. I had worked with some nurses that had been to University and I told Diane, ‘I don’t want to be like them!’ She told me that I would be the kind of nurse that I was, and that University wouldn’t change that.

I was very burnt out. I was unhappy with my work. I thought that I could change the world and four years at the job, I realized that I couldn’t! It was a depressing thought. I was angry, angry at the people that I was hired to work with. Why couldn’t they just listen to me?

Diane helped me to complete the forms to apply to University and to apply for Education Leave from the government. I don’t recall now, but I think she filled out a lot of them. I had to write a letter about why I wanted to attend University. I don’t recall now what I wrote (or what Diane wrote?). Miraculously, I was approved for all of it! I got half my salary on ed leave, tuition, books, and I had to work back for the government equal time – 3 years of school and 3 years of work in return.

I entered the Post-RN program at the University in 1981, a 3-year program. The first year was tough, as University is set up to be (about 50% of students fail first year and get booted). I took English, Biology, and several electives, Native Studies, Anthropology, Sociology. I didn’t have to take basic Psychology and Sociology due to my diploma program. Biology was difficult, in a class of about 200-300 students. The professor told us that we had to study 3-4 hours a day to get a good mark. I didn’t study that much and passed with a 51 or so. My other grades were good enough to keep me at the 65 average needed to keep going. Although I don’t think that I told anyone, I had moved in with my alcoholic boyfriend, and we were struggling. He was also physically abusive, and I was getting beaten up at home.

Yvonne Brown was my advisor in the College of Nursing (she would later become the Dean of Nursing). She called me in before year end, and talked about my grades, which were okay. I was happy to go into second year, as I met the group of Post-RN nurses. We were all ‘mature’ students. I was 24, but I felt very old compared to many University students who were 18 or 19.

In second year, I was with the other Post-RN students. There were about 15 of us, nurses, all returning to complete a degree. The provincial and national nursing associations had decided that the basic nursing education would be a degree, and all the diploma programs would be phased out. We were worried that we wouldn’t have the same opportunities as a nurse with a degree, or that they would be chosen over us for senior positions. The Post-RNs developed a strong bond, and we helped one another through university. We would arrange study groups and work together to learn challenging material.

In the summer of 1983, I was assigned to Fort Qu’Appelle. It was always good to work in the summer and earn some extra money. Although I was on half-salary, my boyfriend lost his job in 1982, and I was supporting both of us. Times were tight, and I remember our phone getting cut off. I had a beautiful car which got re-possessed. My sister Jean tracked me down and gave me an old beater to drive around. I didn’t take the car to the University, as parking was difficult and expensive. I would take the bus.

I loved university, even if it was the hardest challenge that I had faced in my life. It opened up a whole new world for me. My curiosity was intensely stimulated. I would spend hours in the library, looking up stuff. I loved the intense philosophical discussions that we had, that don’t occur in the outside world (or at least with the people that I knew). I could have easily become a ‘professional student’ and spent the rest of my life in the academic world!

Even though I loved it, that was not to say that it was easy! I had coasted through school, mostly. I didn’t know how to study, how to write a report, how to do research, etc. I know in Kelsey, that the teachers had made a comment in my file, ‘capable of much more’, which annoyed me greatly! I had to learn the discipline of school. I had to read, study, memorize, write reports and papers, etc. I got into the groove in second year. I would watch MASH (1/2 hour tv show), have supper, and hit the books.

I had to choose to stay home and study or to go places. I recall my boyfriend’s uncle had passed away and he really wanted me to attend the funeral. I had to decline, as I had work to do. He had sobered up, and was going to sweatlodge ceremonies at Jr Eyahpaise at Beardy’s. He would invite me along, and I would go when I had time. He would go sometimes once or twice a week, and I likely went once a month or so.

Physiology was particularly difficult. The book for the class was huge and expensive. The professor spoke another language most days, and I took notes, having no idea what he was talking about. I recall one class that we actually understood and some of our group went up to talk to him. I would go with the group, but I was pretty shy to talk to any professor. We told him that we actually understood that class and if he could tone down his other classes. He told us that he was really ‘bored’ teaching that class, and no, that he would not continue to do that. One of our group told him that ‘he was not there to be entertained’. I really did try, but I think I got another 51% in that class too. There was a very smart lady in our group – Pat – I think she got a mark in the 80s. Sadly, before the class, I thought that I knew physiology pretty well from the diploma program. How the body works, how the various systems work together, hormones, the lymph system, fluid & electrolyte balance. I didn’t learn a lot more from the class and in fact was more confused at the end of it.

The nursing classes were also tough. We talked about being ‘nickled and dimed’. Every class had assignments worth 5 or 10% of the final grade, and we worked like mad on the assignments. The electives were easier, with a paper being worth 40% of the grade or some high amount – that was worth doing! We plugged away at our little assignments and gained a few extra points towards our final mark. Is that something about women? We have to do a bunch of little things all the time? For little recognition, little reward?

I loved several of the classes. We took a class on teaching, and learned to do presentations and teaching about health issues. We went into a studio and were taped doing a 5-minute speech on any topic. Then the group gave us feedback, as well as the professor. This was very hands-on stuff. And I have used this skill for the rest of my life.

I also liked management. We were taught management techniques and actually went to a meeting with the Health District to watch the senior nurse talk about the change in the system, and what the district was planning. Again, I have used these skills for the rest of my life.

One particular class – Group Dynamics – was also very intriguing. We are all part of groups, and learning more about groups and how groups work was very interesting. We did lots of activities in this class, forming into groups and solving problems. I recall the conflict activity did not sit well with people. Conflict within a group is very difficult and resolution is often a challenge. I still have the textbook for that class somewhere in my collection.

Of course, I was always ‘translating’. The courses were all for mainstream people, the texts were written primarily by mainstream people. I was still learning about my own culture, and what was acceptable. So, I had to adapt them for myself, and for my own nursing practice.

One particularly difficult course was Community Nursing. I enjoyed learning the principles of Community Nursing, as I had been working at it for the four years prior. However, the professor and I had some difficulties. We had to keep a binder, and all of the 5 and 10% assignments were in there, along with the research that we did. I developed an interest in Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (later renamed to Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder, FASD) and worked with the Alvin Buckwold Centre at the university. I went on a field trip with them to near Meadow Lake where they conducted a number of assessments on the children. I remember the non-Indigenous teachers complaining about the children. I wasn’t yet able to speak up to defend them! But, basically it was racism.

When we handed in our binders, the professor would write notes in pencil all over our stuff. This annoyed me, and I felt was very disrespectful. It was comments about what we did, and did we think of other things that she would suggest, etc. I had one assignment left, and my mark was 58. The assignment was 15%, so I thought that I could get at least 7 points on that. She gave me 2 ½ points, so I just barely passed with 60%.

I kept that binder and about 5 years later, I was finally able to open it to read her final comments. What I realized in retrospect, was that we had a significant culture clash. The things that she wanted/expected me to do, I just couldn’t do culturally. I was sorry that I didn’t recognize it at the time, as it could have been a learning moment for both of us. I think she just assumed that I was lazy and didn’t want to do what she told me.

In both Kelsey and at the University, I would have a crisis around February. I would wish with all my heart to drop out and not have to think about any of this again. Somehow, I would dig deep and soldier through. Everywhere I went, there was a least one teacher that would challenge me to my depths and shake my confidence and my first choice would be to quit.

Our Post-RN group worked closely together and developed significant bonds. We helped one another through the various classes. We had little in common with the younger students, but our group was separate to some degree. Convocation was held in the Centennial Auditorium. I recall standing up for Oh Canada, and a tremendous feeling passed through me. I did it!!!!

The Post-RN group organized a separate graduation from the rest. The Dean could not attend, as we were not the ‘official’ graduation (geez, non-Indigenous rules are odd). We held it at the Bessborough, a beautiful, meaningful evening with family and friends. A fitting end to our adventure!

I was the first in our Métis family to get a degree. Some of my siblings also got a degree later, including my younger sister, Paula, who also went into nursing.