One Final Wind-Song

17 years ago this spring my daughter, Jessy Lee, and I moved into our home in the Avenues. Tomorrow she comes home from university for what may likely be her final summer at home. And, two weeks from now, my partner, Alan, and his dog Felix, move in. My home/world changing forever. I could not be more happy. Tonight though,… (read more)

Red Shoes Series: fine fit

~ for Alan Del said When I figured things Out, I could buy red Shoes. I have a pair of nearly pink Flats. I bought them Years ago. They pinch My feet. I found red runners that I wore When I sat my ethics Review. The runners are candy Apple red, New, and they have no Grip on my soul.… (read more)

Dodging Trains

I blame that text message, or the twinkle lights, but mostly, the constant of Alan’s gaze. It started years ago. And likely years before that. But maybe, I’ll start with the rubric. It was my first full-time teaching position. A small town and a class with only a few grade twelve students. I had asked them to share. To simply… (read more)

Checking-In My Kids

Years ago I learned and taught alongside a close-knit group of students that became like family to me. In all, the moments before, and years since, I’ve never quite had the same almost magical connection with young people. As a teacher-researcher, I am aware there are many things I will never be-able to recreate with other young people that lived… (read more)

Unrelenting Light

I am thinking about love and trauma and time and trust. I am thinking about love. March 27th, 2014. It is almost four years since Dad’s stroke. I stumbled across a photo of me and dad from a year ago. A year ago. Mom and Dad and I had adventured to Danielson Provincial Park. It was warm and sunny. Spring.… (read more)

Keep Loving

Last week during one of my Structured Support classes, I was helping a grade twelve student analyze a poem. Together, we read the poem assigned by his English Language Arts teacher. “Wow that’s a powerful poem.” “I don’t understand poetry.” My grade twelve student said, pushing away from from the table. Stoic. “It’s about finding abusive love beautiful.” “That’s just… (read more)

One Rock

Rocks I love rocks. They are my favourite gifts. They whisper the finest truths. They are the best story keepers. When friends travel I ask them to return with rocks. As those I love have come to understand my rock language, I have been gifted with rocks from around the globe. Rocks nestle in every room in my home: the… (read more)

Love Loud

Late last week, a grade twelve student wandered into my room. He was smiling. He had his term one report card. Graduation looked promising. “Miss Saas. I want you to come to grad.” “Oh, I’m coming to grad!” “Yeah, but I want you to sit with my family.” I set down my book. I really looked at him. “Chris, I… (read more)


  Three and a half years ago I made much needed changes to my blog, finding more identity in this space. Soon afterwards, I entered graduate research and found myself bound by ethical guidelines of a research journey that needed me to write privately, or at least, not here about my research.… (read more)

Nana’s Red Beads

70 years love. I am moving. Homes. I packaged up my crafts, two decades old most of them, tidy along basement shelves, and donated them to my high school Arts Group. At the bottom of a green bin, wrapped in a mesh bag, I found this heart-pulling, lovely bead garland. My Nana’s. Nana. I miss her.… (read more)