ABSTRACT
I grew up in the beautiful wilderness of British Columbia (BC), Canada. Surrounded by wildlife and the natural beauty of mountains, lakes and rivers, city life and urban realities did not encroach upon my consciousness. This is ironic given that my father had spent his early adult life organising workingclass people to fight for social justice and decent housing with indoor toilets and running water. But I was not to learn this until much later after I had become involved in struggles for social justice in my own right and even left Canada for Britain. Living in remote countryside in a loving home and surrounded by caring neighbours taught me to appreciate supportive human relationships and the value of self-sufficiency. Life in those conditions was harsh – cold, snowy winters and poverty were part of everyday life. But we were happy, and my parents’ aspirations for a better life were passed on to my brothers and sisters and me. Living in dignity, doing no harm to others, including the living things around us on which our livelihoods depended, were inculcated into our upbringing and have guided me as an activist scholar since. I will always remember my father going out hunting to catch our meat and my mother counting out the bullets when he left and when he returned. His biggest pride was to tell us, ‘See, one bullet is missing, and here is dinner. And look where the bullet is – right between the eyes, so that death comes quickly and painlessly. You should respect animals. Never kill more than you can eat and always make their death swift and painless.’ Although I don’t hunt or fish, his words have meant that I have respected all living things on which our lives depend. That interdependency between
living things was eventually to inform my writing Green Social Work decades later, but its foundations were laid years ago in childhood.
