Reading about Emily Carr, I feel an overwhelming connection to her struggles. She faced immense obstacles—what happened between her and her father is shrouded in mystery, but abuse seems likely. Rejected by her mother and sisters, she was cast out, not just for her art but for refusing to conform. Marriage was the expected path, yet she chose another, one that forced her to survive on her own terms—a feat that must have felt impossible then, just as it does now.
Art wasn’t saleable in her time, just as many of us struggle to sell ours today. Oh, hers is now—commodified, celebrated—but in her lifetime, she endured rejection after rejection. And yet, she persisted.
Emily lived in the same town as my great-great-grandparents, buried in the same graveyard. My Songhees great-great-grandmother must have faced unfathomable challenges. My great-grandfather’s diary hints at the hardships he endured—but for her, an Indigenous woman in a colonial world, the struggle must have been heartbreaking. And it’s still happening. The patriarchy still rules, still tries to force us into submission. Yet we are POWERFUL. We give birth, create life, nurture life, and still, so many women face homelessness, poverty, and exile for refusing to bow to male dominance.
Emily survived. My great-great-grandmother, though she only lived to 50, raised and imprinted a strong son. Because of them, I am here. Because of them, I must fight.
We are entering a time of great uncertainty—where men like Trump, Musk, and others are openly discussing the annexation of Canada, the erasure of our autonomy. Emily lived through two world wars and the Great Depression. My mother survived the Great Depression and WWII. Now, we must draw on that same strength. We will be called eccentric, crazy, hysterical—but so was Emily. And still, she painted.
Now more than ever, we must fight back with art. We must warrior up with art. This is the battle of our lives, and we must spread the message in every way we can. Smash the patriarchy. Restore balance. Like the Iroquois Confederacy once did, like Helen Reddy sang—
I am Woman. Hear me ROAR.
