Description
Samantha Nock is a Cree-Métis writer and poet originally from Treaty 8 Territory in the Peace Region of northeast British Columbia. Her family is originally from sâkitawâhk ᓵᑭᑕᐚᕽ (Île-à-la-Crosse), Saskatchewan.
In this debut poetry collection, Samantha Nock redefines where and what “home is.” A Family of Dreamers delves into the complexities of growing up in rural northeast British Columbia and the love and grief that blooms there. Nock weaves together threads of fat liberation, desirability politics, and heartbreak, while working through her existence as a young Indigenous woman coming of age in the city. She explores the interweaving of trauma and healing, playing with language and connecting to the Lands that raised her in order to challenge colonial narratives. Written during her twenties, these poems negotiate the tensions between survival, vulnerability, and tenderness. A Family of Dreamers is a love song to northern cuzzins, dive bars, and growing up.
i don’t believe in in-between spaces.
i don’t believe in long winded monologues
about walking in two worlds.
my existence isn’t confusion
and trying to reconcile the fact
that i know how to tell when the seasons are changing
by the way leaves hang
with the fact
that i can count time by bus stops.
In this debut poetry collection, Samantha Nock redefines where and what “home is.” A Family of Dreamers delves into the complexities of growing up in rural northeast British Columbia and the love and grief that blooms there. Nock weaves together threads of fat liberation, desirability politics, and heartbreak, while working through her existence as a young Indigenous woman coming of age in the city. She explores the interweaving of trauma and healing, playing with language and connecting to the Lands that raised her in order to challenge colonial narratives. Written during her twenties, these poems negotiate the tensions between survival, vulnerability, and tenderness. A Family of Dreamers is a love song to northern cuzzins, dive bars, and growing up.
i don’t believe in in-between spaces.
i don’t believe in long winded monologues
about walking in two worlds.
my existence isn’t confusion
and trying to reconcile the fact
that i know how to tell when the seasons are changing
by the way leaves hang
with the fact
that i can count time by bus stops.