Cynthia Rose Burton

I am so grateful to be surrounded by so much love.
From the deepest part of my heart,

Thank you 🖤

Photo by the immensely talented: Jonah

It’s only been 20 years since the last Residential School closed , and I am only 45.

Growing up as the daughter of a survivor is impossible to describe in words. It often comes out in the way that you always want to protect those without a voice, that were never given a chance to thrive.

I am still here.

Despite the years of abuse.
Despite the food scarcity, despite the constant moving and loss of friends each time as a child.

Despite the fear, the constant worry that you were going to say or do the wrong thing, and cause the violence in your household to explode, hitting you like a hammer.

Despite becoming homeless at 14.
Despite all that happens to teenage Indigenous girls, despite learning far too young, that the world is a deeply unsafe place for us.

Despite years of racism, loud and brave because it had the numbers and the manpower to do so.

Despite being raised without love, just like my Father.

I choose to be love.
I choose to find compassion, I choose to draw strength from myself, and those around me that fight to make world a better, and safer place for all minorities.

I choose ferocity. I choose light. I choose me.

Because I am still here. We are still here. We still matter.

You are loved. You are strong. You can do this.