The White Hare

So much spite

Left us within a fight

Divided from our families

Severed from our identities


It came as such a surprise

No ill will was implied?

Yet their hate harmed and hurt

It is clear we were despised


Displeased, Peeved just from our very presence

The plan was arranged

Damage made never to be undone


I lost my traditions

My culture

My heritage

For all that was taken from me


I do not dance in pow wows, or bead

Or even speak Cree.

This affects more than just me


When I go home to the reservation

The place that was supposed to be made for people like me

The white hare is here

We share the same blood

But because my skin differs

That is all that is seen


I am the white hare

Even if inside I am as brown as a bison

My skin, almost like snow shows all that they will ever know


My family has suffered through something devastating and dreadful

Caused by colonisation

I fear the lost connection with my culture


However we are brave and fearless

My blood flowing is enough proof

Regardless of the colour of my skin

I represent my ancestors anguish


It is a miracle that I am here today

They tried so hard to take us away

Many years have passed since everything was dismayed

The very blood that flows through me, connects me to my ancestors

And nobody can ever take that away.

A young woman looks at the camera

Hannah Mulessa

Grade: 11 / Sec. V
Blessed Sacrament Outreach School
Wainwright, AB


Hannah Mulessa is a grade 11 student, living in Wainwright, Alberta. Born in Prince Albert Saskatchewan. She found her love for writing at a young age, recently working on including her own experiences as an indigenous person.

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