The case for designating caregiving as a recognized trade in Ontario and provinces across the country is compelling, both from economic and social perspectives. Caregiving is widespread in families and communities,  for loved ones and as a low barrier employment path for people entering the workforce.  In every family and every workplace, we can find caregivers sitting at every table, every elevator ride and every doctor appointment. Paid or unpaid, caregivers make this world possible. 

Currently, thousands of caregivers across the province provide essential services without formal recognition, standardized training, or adequate compensation. By establishing caregiving as a recognized trade, Ontario could address several critical challenges in its healthcare system while creating valuable economic opportunities.

First, trade designation would establish standardized training and certification programs, ensuring consistent quality of care across the province is accessible and sustainably funded. This would include comprehensive education in essential caregiving skills, health and safety protocols, and specialized care techniques. Such standardization would not only improve care quality but also provide caregivers with recognized credentials that validate their expertise.

Second, formal recognition would enable caregivers to command fair wages commensurate with their skills and responsibilities. Unlike Skilled Trade Workers, full time Personal Support Workers and care workers either receive minimal compensation or provide care without pay. Trade status would establish clear wage scales, overtime provisions, and benefits packages, helping to professionalize the field and attract more workers to address the growing demand for care services. 

Third, trade designation would create clear career pathways and opportunities for advancement. Caregivers could pursue additional certifications, specialize in specific areas of care, or advance into supervisory roles. This career ladder would help retain skilled caregivers in the field and create a more sustainable workforce.

Fourth, recognizing caregiving as a trade would facilitate better regulation and oversight of care services, protecting both caregivers and care recipients. It would establish clear standards of practice, ethical guidelines, and mechanisms for addressing concerns or complaints. Now is a time that we should all be thinking about creating the care options that are equitable and sustainable. 

Finally, trade designation would acknowledge the significant economic contribution of caregivers to Canada's healthcare system. By formally recognizing their work, the province would be better positioned to develop policies and programs that support this essential workforce while ensuring sustainable, high-quality care for Canada's aging population, as well as opening doors to create an infrastructure of support to caregivers for vulnerable people living with disabilities.

The implementation of such a designation would require collaboration between the Minister of Labour, Training and Skills Development, healthcare institutions, and existing caregiver organizations. However, the potential benefits - including improved care quality, better working conditions, and a more sustainable healthcare system - make this a worthwhile investment in Canada's future.

Long-gone are the parades and supportive attitudes for the front-line workers. It is back to business and we are once again forgetting the people who offer society the most yet receive the least in their bid to simply exist while providing care for others. 

Join me in calling for Caregivers to be added to the official Skilled Trades List. Imagine working as a birth or death doula, as a daycare worker, or home aide worker, and suddenly your training and work is valued by the place you live? Imagine if your local rural doctors office suddenly employed birth and death workers? What could be possible if the local YM/WCA suddenly had on-staff PSWs who could offer care and connection with community supports when an individual or family transitioned into a new home or community?
What if that patient being discharged from the hospital to die at home had even more support and care because your workplace has hired death workers?

The value for Caregivers in community must be remembered, valued and upheld.  Let's teach our children and future generations that we appreciate  caregivers and what they do for our communities.  

The IDDC Project came about at a time when it felt like the world was on it's knees-the outset of a worldwide pandemic. This project aimed to gather resources for coping with death, dying, grief and loss.

​Slowly, we began to build a network and host regular Zoom sessions to offer a free and safe space to discuss feelings and ask questions about grief and loss. We hosted death cafes that were also grief support circles. 

We worked toward meeting our goal to train more than 200 people on our waiting list, before the project ended in March 2025. Through the creation and launch of the online training, we successfully met our goal within the first eight months. 

My role in the IDDC project has been fairly large. Counsellor, curriculum developer, content and communications, administration, team manager and training facilitator. 

I drew from my educational background as a Sociologist and Healing and Wellness Counsellor, personal and work experiences to create the Indigenous Death Doula Training Program. Throughout this time, I was able to complete several additional trainings to build upon my capacity as a Registered Social Services Worker,  for the benefit of delivering professional training and support services. 

I also drew on my grief and own understandings of loss and death. Slowly, through engaging with over 1300 people, I came to new understandings.

I received my spirit name while doing this project. I got married. I turned 40. I travelled many, many places I had never been. I took on new grief and watched my kids begin adulthood. I had to watch my daughter's heart break when we put our family dog down in old age. I had a miscarriage and my grandfather died. 

Now, I am proud to share this all with you. All the pain, all the joy and all the laughter.
I pray that this work continues. The work of awakening and training death workers. 

I originally started my business in 2014 to share my writing and storytelling, to bring untold stories forward from my memoire.  My passion for writing began as a child and as I moved through my university degree as a single parent in my 30s, returning to writing became a therapeutic practice while I managed burnout, family, multiple work and school commitments along with a new diagnosis of Complex-Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

When I realized I needed to shift my career in 2017 from author to doula entrepreneur, I continued to sort out what my care practice was really about.  This sole-proprietorship has grown and shifted in shape alongside me and I am excited for the new ways that this work has grown.

It was with urgency that I felt called to gather plant medicine teachings and lessons about living and dying.
As I've often heard, I was right where I needed to be as I learned the most from my grandfather in what would become his final years.

In 2018 I renamed my humble social enterprise Blackbird Medicines and as I conclude ten years of entrepreneurship, I am in awe of the experiences I've had and the people I have met. 

Chii miigwetch/Big thanks for supporting this work. It has been an honour to have your interest and your community's trust.

This past Friday, October 4th marked the 20th annual Families of Sisters in Spirit Vigil to honour
Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, Girls and 2SpiritLGBTQQIA+. This somber day has
always been for families and friends, in and around Ottawa, to flood Parliament Hill holding
enlarged photos of loved ones with their names.

This movement began with a seemingly small action to show the outside world that we have not
forgotten our missing and murdered. When Bridget Tolley’s mother Gladys was murdered, her
search for truth and justice led her to Parliament Hill, photo in hand.

Sadly, the necessity of this day has not diminished, but amplified. To commemorate a 23rd year of
her search for accountability, Bridget cut and burned her hair in a ceremony, with help from her
great grandchildren and supporters.

Nations across Turtle Island have different teachings about the sacredness of hair. The ceremony
of cutting hair represents the significance of a loss. Whether you cut your hair to honour
someone in death, or to honour the grief you carry for the loss of your safety, the practice of
growing and braiding hair to cut off is a ceremony of reflection and release.

Each day Indigenous women and girls grow up knowing they are overrepresented in correctional
and child welfare institutions, missing and murdered statistics. This day is a protest of no more
stolen sisters. This day is a necessary movement to shout, in the first world country that is
Canada, we are not expendable or invisible. Indigenous women matter.

Like most First Nations, Inuit and Metis people I carry my own stories of grief and loss and have
attended many, many Sisters in Spirit Vigils over the years to honor people who impacted my life
and were taken away in tragedy. On this day, I was accompanied by loved ones to the Hill and
this was a form of safety planning. This was one way that I could try to offer myself care and
harm reduction, during and after what I knew would be an emotionally difficult afternoon.

Even though we ended in ceremony with the day’s vigil, I began to formulate a plan for more
self-care and wellness.

As a tattoo revivalist, ink sessions are one way to practice my ancestral spirituality. I chose to
end this solemn day of mourning in a good way, by receiving clan marking with my family.

This healing way we have with lots of laughter helped to carry us from the bittersweet reunions
with others in this movement, all the way home that night.

This past weekend has been difficult for many and I am no exception to this. The Freedom Convoy made it's way through my community and onward to Ottawa. Once there, this group was reported on by many bystanders for waving symbols of racism, openly breaking laws and bylaws, and mocked First Nation drummers and singers by chanting and banging drums. While I won't get into the problems of this movement, or why it's not okay to support social action taken in support of racism, I do want to discuss something I come across often in my different fields of work.

Cultural appropriation is not respectful practice. Imitation is not always a form of flattery. 
 
Time and time again, I find myself in specific training around funerals or end-of-life practices and these trainings are facilitated by white death workers. I am always shocked at the ease with which these practitioners culturally appropriate ceremonies to offer in their private practices. 

As a First Nations-mixed woman with white privilege, I am particularly sensitive and aware of the importance of positionality and community recognition. It is common for me to provide proof and verification of my community connections with the Algonquins of Pikwakanagan First Nation and this is something anyone who IS actually First Nations, Inuit, and Metis has the ability to grasp. 

In death work, many of my peers find no problem with smudging, carrying sacred items and practicing their own version of cultural ceremonies. I've heard the decision to use these traditions validated and quantified by white practitioners in all sorts of ways.

The most common justifications are:
1. I learned these from an Elder/Teacher who gave me permission to use these practices. Elder/Teacher has passed on and claims are not verifiable. 
2.  It's okay, I have Indigenous ancestry.
3. I only do it for people at end-of-life, when it brings great comfort.

The reality is that these justifications are massive red flags of cultural appropriation. For each of these harmful end-of-life care providers, there are as many working to center voices of Black, Indigenous, People of Color in ways that are meaningful and impactful. By speaking out against these moments of cultural appropriation, they are practicing allyship in an important form. Cultural appreciation is practiced by allies who insist on an actual First Nations spiritual practitioner or end-of-life doula being engaged and compensated for their knowledge, time and travel. 

Here are some helpful strategies when practicing allyship around end-of-life care. These tips are widely applicable to many situations and I am always happy to engage in discussions that promote and center the good steps taken by allies looking to do better. 


1. Hire a First Nations, Metis, or Inuit death doula, counsellor, cultural practitioner to facilitate healing, ceremonies, and rituals like talking circles, smudging with traditional medicines, or drumming and singing. Blackbird Medicines is comprised of numerous First Nations spiritual practitioners, teachers, helpers, singers and drummers. We are always happy to provide these services and have many options available, regardless of cultural background and will ensure your end-of-life arrangements are respectful and appropriate. 

2. Ask for community references from the Indigenous community. A letter from a federally recognized First Nation or Friendship Center are great. Blackbird Medicines offers genealogical services at an affordable cost for people who are seeking information on their background and will provide a letter of support regarding validated genealogical claims. 

3. Ask for genealogical background. A general and vague association with a single or many communities is a red flag. Blackbird Medicines offers genealogical services at an affordable cost for people who are seeking information on their background and will provide a letter of support regarding validated genealogical claims. 

If you need additional resources, please don't hesitate to reach out. We can all use help to do better when moving forward. ​

You may have heard me speak or read something written by me where I spoke about training to become an Indigenous Full Spectrum Doula.
You may have heard about Doula work and the important impacts this role is having for families and health care navigation.

I'm excited to be a part of the Cornerstone Birthwork Training team with Capstone Canada. This training is fullsome and radical-two of my favourites qualities. 

Sign up for this year's first cohort and learn what's in your Doula bag.

REGISTER HERE:
https://cornerstonedoulatrainings.teachable.com/p/capstone-canada-feb ​

Recently I was honoured with an invitation to present at the virtual conference Reflections on Death and Dying: Creating Space for end-of-life conversations.
I was nervous to address this audience and this is far from typical for me when speaking in public. How many people would sign up? Would the words I share resonate? How would I be received when I started in on systemic oppression and capitalism creating harm and trauma for people? 
As the attendee count climbed past 120, and higher, my nerves began to abate. Idling at 188 participants, the organizers decided to start and began to introduce me by reading my bio. The bio is always too long and I find myself making mental notes to trim it back and before the thought can land, I am bolstered at my own history. I've survived so much and that is exactly what I am here to talk about. Indigenous people have survived so much, to enjoy this privilege of life and I'm going to begin this mostly one-sided conversation with my ancestors on my shoulder. They are guiding me in this sharing and so I take a deep breathe. I begin. ​