Speaking English was something new for me. At home my mother, always spoke Tli'suti to me. But then again things are done differently here on the main land. "Rita, would you please turn around and pay attention. You will never learn anything if you don't pay attention!" the teacher barked at me.
 
I got that a lot. Being yelled at. To say I am used to it is an understatement, can anyone really get used to being yelled at? "Miss. Rita please look to the front and stop writing that gibber jabber!" With a loud sigh I dropped the pencil and looked ahead.

During lunch I sat at a table by myself, the joys of being the only person of M'kimaq decent. Yes this may be an Indian Residential school, but I am still the outcast. Giggles from the other girls followed me as I walked past with my lunch. Getting yelled at doesn't really grant you as the most popular person at this school.

For the rest of the day I had my head down, avoiding the stares from everyone and the annoying shouts of the teachers. I have never quite understood why I was the only one who got picked on. I mean the Mi'kimaq people are always being portrayed as the bad guys, when really we are just being ourselves.

Suddenly, I thought of something that I could do about it. I grabbed a sheet of paper and a pencil and scrabbled down some lines. Never in my whole life did I think that this would be my calling, the thing that I was created for. I was the one that needed to show people that we aren't the bad people.

Once I had finished I had scrabbled down fifteen lines. Thinking for a minute I came up with the perfect title. I Lost My Talk.