Ed Matwawana has a lot to say.
A gentle giant, Matwawana speaks softly, consonants eroded by the remnants of his native tongue.
A good thing, because what he says is not easy to hear.
“It’s almost like married life,” says Matwawana, “sometimes things are good, sometimes they are bad, and when they’re bad they are very bad.”
Matwawana is referring to the racial divide in Nova Scotia’s music community; a divide that while not unnoticed, often goes unsaid.
“People refuse to discuss this topic.”
Matwawana is a veteran of the East Coast music scene. Arriving in Canada in 1983, he came here to join his parents who fled their home in Northern Angola during political unrest in the 1970s.
By 1988 he had settled in Halifax, and for 19 years he’s been a fixture in Nova Scotia’s African music community.
But for black artists, finding support and recognition outside their community is often the challenge.
If you’re involved in the East Coast music industry the place to be, and be seen, is the East Coast Music Awards. The event, run by the East Coast Music Association, showcases the crème of Atlantic Canada’s musical crop. But for some the artists that rise to the top don’t accurately represent the diverse talent the East Coast offers.
“The East Coast Music Awards always strives to represent the musical diversity of the region,” says Steve Horne, the Executive Director of the Association.
“That’s been on-going for its 19 year history, and improving as we move to different markets and as we grow as an organization.”
To strive is one thing, to succeed is another. It’s getting from A to B that’s the issue.
“There’s countless amounts of talent that is not getting their deserving share of exposure,” says Paul Simmonds of Homiez Productions, “ the ECMA may be really trying to make a difference as far as being inclusive but I don’t think the effort they’re putting forward is doing that.”
The struggle for access to programming, awards and industry consideration has historically been a problem for African Canadians in the East Coast scene, but the reasons for the obstacles are not necessarily black and white.
“It’s not conclusively over racism,” says Waye Mason, Executive Director of the Halifax Pop Explosion Association, “15 years ago the indie rock music scene couldn’t get any exposure through the ECMA when it was all about Celtic music.”
But the ECMA is not just about Celtic music anymore. The diversity is there; it just can’t always be seen. And black artists, like any artist, want to be represented in the larger community.
At this year’s ECMA Awards and Conference in Halifax there were a few bright spots.
Legendary black songstress, Portia White, was honoured with a Lifetime Achievement Award by the East Coast Music Association this year, more than 30 years after her death. A native Nova Scotian, she achieved international acclaim in the 1940s and 50s, now finally she’s been recognized at home.
The ECMA also focused it’s attention on promoting the region’s strong urban music scene. Under the umbrella of the Urban Music Series ECMA offered a veritable buffet of urban fare.
On the Grind, a hip-hop showcase and panel discussion, brought urban artists and industry players together.
Black Vibes, a show produced by the African Nova Scotia Music Association (ANSMA) in partnership with the ECMA organization, showcased ANSMA’s members.
But neither effort escaped controversy.
The On the Grind stage was overwhelmingly white, populated by artists such as Jesse Dangerously, Spesh K, Ghettosocks, and Classified. Muzz Marshall was the token performer from the black community, and R&B at that, although she brought rapper Trobiz along for the ride.
The line-up raises a question about what the word urban really means.
“Urban music is not a style of music – urban is a movement. A movement that started in order to put music that had black roots into the forefront of the mainstream,” says Matwawana, a past President of ANSMA, “urban covers all kinds of music styles, all kinds of genres.”
As the popularity of urban music soared, the community the ‘urban’ tag used to serve has changed. From roots in the inner city urban music now flows from the suburbs. The genre once dominated by black artists is no longer so easily profiled.
“More and more white people are making urban music and more and more black people are making non-urban music, and there still aren’t that many black people involved with the ECMA, Music Nova Scotia or the Pop Explosion,” says Mason.
“It’s been very hard these last 18 months as this kind of awareness grows in our industry, in the community, and with government, to stop using genre labels and start using race labels because we all like not to talk about it.”
So while the visibility of urban artists is increasing at the ECMA the proportion of black artists is not necessarily growing at the same rate. And places black artists do appear seem to contribute to the racial divide.
Some think using race as the common denominator on the Black Vibes stage is more harmful in the end.
Halifax based musician Tremayne Howe, known in music circles as Trobiz, agrees.
“We should all, including the people inside the organizations, work harder on integrating and less on separating,” he says.
“Both sides should work more on integrating our stages, integrating our performances, I think that will make people more aware of what’s going on in the whole music scene, rather than separating the music scenes.”
At this stage though Matwawana believes Black Vibes is necessary.
“Normally there should not be a need for Black Vibes,” says Matwawana, who resigned from the ANSMA and Music Nova Scotia boards since this interview, “if there was not what you call injustice.”
But based on his experience with the Pop Explosion Mason thinks integration is key.
“They don’t want the Pop Explosion just to be able to check a box (we’ve got black folk), then just keep doing what we’ve always been doing,” he says of the new African Caucus involved in programming this years’ festival.
“They want black people to be involved at the conference, they want people who are black at the zine fair, they want people who are black playing shows.”
A feeling that resonates for the people concerned about racial integration at the ECMA.
“I think that we would receive a lot more recognition for the great music that we’re doing here, if we work on getting back into the mainstream that’s out there,” says Trobiz.
“With that will come I think will more recognition…As long as we (in the Black community) continue to support separate stages then we are going to end up not being recognized by the majority.”
Working together is beneficial and necessary, says Matwawana, but improving the working relationship should be the first priority.
“ECMA has so far been a beneficial partner, But there are many areas that still need plenty of work and mutual understanding,” he says.
“ECMA must be convinced that they have an obligation to properly service and promote black artists…hopefully in collaboration with ANSMA.”
The ECMA sees this as natural progression.
“There’s still a long term strategy we need to come up with,” says Horne of the future for the ECMA, “but we can only do it through the tools that are available to us; the award show, the conference, the festival.”
But natural progression requires time, and Matwawana thinks we need to pick up the pace.
“Equality is not always fairness. I find that sometimes these bodies hide behind policies,” he says, “ECMA needs to be quicker than this in terms of adapting to what’s happening in the world of music, because they are very much behind.”
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
What Came First the Baby or the Egg?
Egg donation offers the infertile a chance.
Getting Baby on Board
The first time it was easy. A few well timed attempts and the pastel plus sign on the drugstore test appeared. At the doctors pee in a plastic cup confirmed the impending arrival.
This time though things are different.
Thermometers, doctor’s appointments, schedules, blood tests; the list of to-do’s and don’t do’s long and involved, the stress is incredible.
This time there’s infertility.
“One day you feel that you can handle any disappointment, and yet you find the next day you might be devastated by the smallest of things.” says Sam Myles of her experience with infertility.
“The waiting is extremely difficult and the longer you’re in the fertility treatments the more negative you become.”
Myles, 42, is mother to a three year old boy. Her husband Maxwell Stone, 52, also has three adult children from a previous marriage. After having their son the Toronto couple was surprised to face obstacles conceiving again.
After a few months of trying Myles was diagnosed with high follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH) in august 2004. In women FSH initiates follicular growth. High levels are normal during menopause, abnormal in child-bearing years.
Waiting a few years could mean a lifetime when it comes to getting pregnant.
The Clock is Ticking
A woman’s reproductive potential depends on many things; physical condition, lifestyle, environmental exposure and, most importantly, age. Typically fertility begins to decline during the mid-to-late thirties with the greatest decline occurring after 40.
For men the reproductive window is wider.
Even if she becomes pregnant a woman whose fertility is in decline has a higher chance of miscarriage or genetic abnormalities. For many women the consequences of an infertility diagnosis are difficult to bear.
“Infertility has made me feel more anxious about my health and even mortality,” says Myles.
“The notion that one aspect of your health is declining makes you feel more vulnerable about other aspects of your health as well.”
For women and men affected by infertility medical interventions have the potential to change everything.
A Light at the End of the Tunnel
While treatments can cost thousands of dollars, assisted reproductive therapies can give hopeful parents the child nature can’t. But the success of these treatments also decline with age.
Atlantic Assisted Reproductive Therapies (AART), in Halifax, is Atlantic Canada’s main centre for assisted reproductive therapies (ART). Established in the mid 80’s by the Obstetrics and Gynaecology Department at Dalhousie University, AART offers a full range of options for people facing infertility issues.
For Myles and Stone therapies provided at clinics like AART might help them get the baby they desire.
So far though, therapy has yet to work.
“We have tried Intrauterine Insemination with no success,” says Myles, “we’re deliberating on doing IVF with my own eggs, however we aren’t terrible optimistic about the outcome, and so may forgo and go straight to donor eggs.”
IVF stands for in-vitro fertilization. According to Bruce Dunphy, AART’s Director, IVF begins with a controlled hormonal manipulation of the ovaries that stimulates egg production.
It’s then the treatment gets complicated.
“They receive medicine to stimulate their ovaries to produce a bunch of eggs and that involves careful monitoring with ultra sounds, blood tests and a variety of things,” Dunphy says.
“Then it involves a procedure to collect the eggs. That’s done under conscious sedation. They’re awake but receive medication to make them comfortable and pain free. About a 15 to 20 minute procedure is done under ultra sound to collect their eggs.”
If the egg collection is successful the eggs are fertilized in a laboratory. Once fertilization has been achieved the embryos are placed back into the uterus, ideally resulting in implantation and pregnancy.
But Myles’ poor ovarian reserve means that success may depend on the kindness of a stranger. The couple has been searching for a suitable egg donor throughout Canada, so far without success.
“Our ideal donor would, of course, be healthy with a good family history,” she says.
“Physically attributes most similar to mine would be preferred – brunette, tall, fair skin… If finding the right donor means flying someone in from across Canada, then that’s what we’ll do
And it could mean just that. Egg donation is more complex than ejaculating in a cup.
“It’s an emotional rollercoaster,” says Dunphy of a woman becoming and egg donor, “and it’s a substantial commitment.”
Finding a donor is more of a challenge in Canada. Although the intended parents pay for all costs associated with the procedure, the laws in Canada prohibit a donor receiving compensation for their eggs.
“I’d give you the world in return if I could,” says Myles when asked what she would say to prospective donor.
“I would so appreciate anyone who would even considering donating”
Hickety, Pickety, my Black Hen
“It’s just an interesting concept,” says Lindsay Arbuthnot about egg donation, “The whole thing.”
Arbuthnot, 21, is in her 3rd year at Dalhousie University. She considered becoming an egg donor after seeing an ad Myles placed in The Coast. Although she initially responded with a hasty ‘yes’, she has since reexamined the idea.
“I know a lot more now than I did when I said that I’d do it,” she says, “I know that it’s a bit of a painful operation, and that you have to take fertility drugs. The other thing is that the child would actually be half of me… I guess I hadn’t really thought about those things”
But in spite of these issues donation is still something Arbuthnot would consider.
“Yeah, despite all those things I would definitely be willing to,” she says, “I would do it without question if it was for a friend.”
For Myles making people aware is what’s key.
“I wish people were more aware,” she says. “Much like there’s a campaign to educate people about donating organs at time of death, I think it would be helpful to infertile couples if there were some sort of similar campaign to make women aware of the potential gift they could give.”
“I’m sure more women would consider donating if only they knew.”
Getting Baby on Board
The first time it was easy. A few well timed attempts and the pastel plus sign on the drugstore test appeared. At the doctors pee in a plastic cup confirmed the impending arrival.
This time though things are different.
Thermometers, doctor’s appointments, schedules, blood tests; the list of to-do’s and don’t do’s long and involved, the stress is incredible.
This time there’s infertility.
“One day you feel that you can handle any disappointment, and yet you find the next day you might be devastated by the smallest of things.” says Sam Myles of her experience with infertility.
“The waiting is extremely difficult and the longer you’re in the fertility treatments the more negative you become.”
Myles, 42, is mother to a three year old boy. Her husband Maxwell Stone, 52, also has three adult children from a previous marriage. After having their son the Toronto couple was surprised to face obstacles conceiving again.
After a few months of trying Myles was diagnosed with high follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH) in august 2004. In women FSH initiates follicular growth. High levels are normal during menopause, abnormal in child-bearing years.
Waiting a few years could mean a lifetime when it comes to getting pregnant.
The Clock is Ticking
A woman’s reproductive potential depends on many things; physical condition, lifestyle, environmental exposure and, most importantly, age. Typically fertility begins to decline during the mid-to-late thirties with the greatest decline occurring after 40.
For men the reproductive window is wider.
Even if she becomes pregnant a woman whose fertility is in decline has a higher chance of miscarriage or genetic abnormalities. For many women the consequences of an infertility diagnosis are difficult to bear.
“Infertility has made me feel more anxious about my health and even mortality,” says Myles.
“The notion that one aspect of your health is declining makes you feel more vulnerable about other aspects of your health as well.”
For women and men affected by infertility medical interventions have the potential to change everything.
A Light at the End of the Tunnel
While treatments can cost thousands of dollars, assisted reproductive therapies can give hopeful parents the child nature can’t. But the success of these treatments also decline with age.Atlantic Assisted Reproductive Therapies (AART), in Halifax, is Atlantic Canada’s main centre for assisted reproductive therapies (ART). Established in the mid 80’s by the Obstetrics and Gynaecology Department at Dalhousie University, AART offers a full range of options for people facing infertility issues.
For Myles and Stone therapies provided at clinics like AART might help them get the baby they desire.
So far though, therapy has yet to work.
“We have tried Intrauterine Insemination with no success,” says Myles, “we’re deliberating on doing IVF with my own eggs, however we aren’t terrible optimistic about the outcome, and so may forgo and go straight to donor eggs.”
IVF stands for in-vitro fertilization. According to Bruce Dunphy, AART’s Director, IVF begins with a controlled hormonal manipulation of the ovaries that stimulates egg production.
It’s then the treatment gets complicated.
“They receive medicine to stimulate their ovaries to produce a bunch of eggs and that involves careful monitoring with ultra sounds, blood tests and a variety of things,” Dunphy says.
“Then it involves a procedure to collect the eggs. That’s done under conscious sedation. They’re awake but receive medication to make them comfortable and pain free. About a 15 to 20 minute procedure is done under ultra sound to collect their eggs.”
If the egg collection is successful the eggs are fertilized in a laboratory. Once fertilization has been achieved the embryos are placed back into the uterus, ideally resulting in implantation and pregnancy.
But Myles’ poor ovarian reserve means that success may depend on the kindness of a stranger. The couple has been searching for a suitable egg donor throughout Canada, so far without success.
“Our ideal donor would, of course, be healthy with a good family history,” she says.
“Physically attributes most similar to mine would be preferred – brunette, tall, fair skin… If finding the right donor means flying someone in from across Canada, then that’s what we’ll do
And it could mean just that. Egg donation is more complex than ejaculating in a cup.
“It’s an emotional rollercoaster,” says Dunphy of a woman becoming and egg donor, “and it’s a substantial commitment.”
Finding a donor is more of a challenge in Canada. Although the intended parents pay for all costs associated with the procedure, the laws in Canada prohibit a donor receiving compensation for their eggs.
“I’d give you the world in return if I could,” says Myles when asked what she would say to prospective donor.
“I would so appreciate anyone who would even considering donating”
Hickety, Pickety, my Black Hen
“It’s just an interesting concept,” says Lindsay Arbuthnot about egg donation, “The whole thing.”Arbuthnot, 21, is in her 3rd year at Dalhousie University. She considered becoming an egg donor after seeing an ad Myles placed in The Coast. Although she initially responded with a hasty ‘yes’, she has since reexamined the idea.
“I know a lot more now than I did when I said that I’d do it,” she says, “I know that it’s a bit of a painful operation, and that you have to take fertility drugs. The other thing is that the child would actually be half of me… I guess I hadn’t really thought about those things”
But in spite of these issues donation is still something Arbuthnot would consider.
“Yeah, despite all those things I would definitely be willing to,” she says, “I would do it without question if it was for a friend.”
For Myles making people aware is what’s key.
“I wish people were more aware,” she says. “Much like there’s a campaign to educate people about donating organs at time of death, I think it would be helpful to infertile couples if there were some sort of similar campaign to make women aware of the potential gift they could give.”
“I’m sure more women would consider donating if only they knew.”
Smile for the Camera: A Profile of Suspiria Suicide
In the first shot she stares at you from the foreground, challenging the camera as she crouches, undressed but unexposed, against a background of wet concrete and clean white snow.
Her face, anchored by khoal lined eyes shadowed a shade of winter green, is framed by jet black pigtails and bangs that pay homage to pin-up icon Bettie Page. Penciled in eyebrows arch dramatically, competing with blood red lips for centre stage. A silver retainer in her nose and a spiral barbell centre lip give her pale beauty that extra edge.
If a picture says a thousand words this one tells an interesting story. But the true tale lies in the girl captured in the frame.
Eliese Mackinnon, or Suspiria Suicide as she’s often known, has been the subject of photographs for most of her life. Fast approaching 30, Eliese got her start modeling in front her father’s camera. Having a photographer for a father helped MacKinnon ease into feeling comfortable in front of the lens.
Surprising because MacKinnon suffers from anxiety and social phobia, and there’s few places outside her home she feels comfortable.
“Since I was a child I used to be afraid of going to the counter of a store…I’d get someone else to do it for me,” says MacKinnon.
“It’s brutal. It depends on what situation I’m in but people scare the crap out of me…If I could be here and not even leave the apartment I would love that.”
Her partner of three years, Travis Davis, confirms MacKinnon’s claim.
“I often times (well all times really) find myself going to the grocery store alone. This goes for most other “outside” endeavors as well,” he says.
“Pretty much, if it’s not absolutely necessary that she has to go, she most likely won’t. I usually end up leaving alone to go to shows, unless it’s something that she’s really looking forward to seeing, and even then she has second thoughts most of the time.”
In another photo MacKinnon channels the legendary Page, her face taking prominence in the black and white shot. Leaning on a leopard print bed her black bustier and elbow length gloves almost conceal the riding crop in her hand.
Considering her social phobia it’s a wonder how she manages in front of the camera at all. But for MacKinnon it’s the satisfaction she gets from her photos that keep her coming back for more, and it helps that at most shoots she’s in the company of friends.
“”It’s just easier because it’s just me and them,” she says adding, “I guess doing the pictures, if they look good and I like them it gives me confidence and then I feel better and I’m not as socially retarded in those situations. It’s really weird…I don’t understand it myself, it’s pretty bizarre.”
Despite her multiple phobias MacKinnon shines in front of the camera. Her ability to convincingly portray different styles and the ease she with which she changes personas make her a photographer’s dream.
“I had no idea she was going to be as phenomenal as she was, but it turned out to be one of the best decisions I had made,” says Stephanie Nairn of Elemental Photography, of her decision to contact MacKinnon and book her for a shoot.
“It doesn’t feel like it does when I shoot other people. With other models, even those I have become friends with, I find it on the stressful side, but not with her, not at all,” says Nairn.
“She’s also pretty versatile in her looks and styles and I like that too because not everyone can pull off pin-up and gothic and fetish and anything else that comes along. She’s definitely my muse and I love the girl to death…I owe her a lot – she keeps my spark going.”
MacKinnon enjoys working with all her photographers, and the variety of their shoots. It’s the diversity and distinctness of each experience that keep things interesting.
“Everyone I work with has such different and unique styles as well as personalities – I love them all,” she says, adding, “I love doing all the pin-up stuff, the themed stuff, the fetish stuff. The only stuff that doesn’t really suit me is glam and fashion I guess, I even tried artistic nudes last summer and I loved those so, I like them all.”
So does her audience. MacKinnon’s talents have opened new doors.
A little over two years ago she submitted a set pf photos to SuicideGirls, an on-line alt-porn community that features soft core photos and profiles of young women who subvert the mainstream look associated with most pornography.
Even though the site warns aspiring models that submissions are often declined on the first try, MacKinnon’s photos were approved right away, much to her surprise.
“I was like I’m totally going to get rejected – and they didn’t and I’m like oh, that’s so awesome,” she says.
With the acceptance of first her set MacKinnon won the right to add Suicide to her model name, and Suspiria Suicide was born. The name is a nod to Suspiria, MacKinnon’s favourite gothic movie by Dario Argento.
And MacKinnon and Davis were featured in season five of Kink. The show, which follows real people as they experiment with life outside our sexual norms, airs on Showcase.
Initially the experience was fun and exciting, but under the same circumstances it’s not something the couple would do again.
“They were everywhere…they were in every room of the house, we were outside at different locations,” recalls MacKinnon.
“For four months,” adds Davis, “it was pretty invasive.”
Dealing with the obstacles that her phobias create makes life more challenging, but MacKinnon is managing so far. Her sanctuary is the home she shares with Davis and their pets, and in the things she does enjoy; coffee, cigarettes, kisses, sunshine, solitude, baths, food, animals and friends.
With more shoots on the horizon it’s obvious that it’ll take more than fear to hold her back.
For Davis it was this spunk, and something else, that first drew him in.
“She looked as if she had an ass that wouldn’t quit”, he recalls, only half joking.
“And it hasn’t”
Her face, anchored by khoal lined eyes shadowed a shade of winter green, is framed by jet black pigtails and bangs that pay homage to pin-up icon Bettie Page. Penciled in eyebrows arch dramatically, competing with blood red lips for centre stage. A silver retainer in her nose and a spiral barbell centre lip give her pale beauty that extra edge.
If a picture says a thousand words this one tells an interesting story. But the true tale lies in the girl captured in the frame.Eliese Mackinnon, or Suspiria Suicide as she’s often known, has been the subject of photographs for most of her life. Fast approaching 30, Eliese got her start modeling in front her father’s camera. Having a photographer for a father helped MacKinnon ease into feeling comfortable in front of the lens.
Surprising because MacKinnon suffers from anxiety and social phobia, and there’s few places outside her home she feels comfortable.
“Since I was a child I used to be afraid of going to the counter of a store…I’d get someone else to do it for me,” says MacKinnon.
“It’s brutal. It depends on what situation I’m in but people scare the crap out of me…If I could be here and not even leave the apartment I would love that.”
Her partner of three years, Travis Davis, confirms MacKinnon’s claim.
“I often times (well all times really) find myself going to the grocery store alone. This goes for most other “outside” endeavors as well,” he says.
“Pretty much, if it’s not absolutely necessary that she has to go, she most likely won’t. I usually end up leaving alone to go to shows, unless it’s something that she’s really looking forward to seeing, and even then she has second thoughts most of the time.”
In another photo MacKinnon channels the legendary Page, her face taking prominence in the black and white shot. Leaning on a leopard print bed her black bustier and elbow length gloves almost conceal the riding crop in her hand.Considering her social phobia it’s a wonder how she manages in front of the camera at all. But for MacKinnon it’s the satisfaction she gets from her photos that keep her coming back for more, and it helps that at most shoots she’s in the company of friends.
“”It’s just easier because it’s just me and them,” she says adding, “I guess doing the pictures, if they look good and I like them it gives me confidence and then I feel better and I’m not as socially retarded in those situations. It’s really weird…I don’t understand it myself, it’s pretty bizarre.”
Despite her multiple phobias MacKinnon shines in front of the camera. Her ability to convincingly portray different styles and the ease she with which she changes personas make her a photographer’s dream.
“I had no idea she was going to be as phenomenal as she was, but it turned out to be one of the best decisions I had made,” says Stephanie Nairn of Elemental Photography, of her decision to contact MacKinnon and book her for a shoot.
“It doesn’t feel like it does when I shoot other people. With other models, even those I have become friends with, I find it on the stressful side, but not with her, not at all,” says Nairn.
“She’s also pretty versatile in her looks and styles and I like that too because not everyone can pull off pin-up and gothic and fetish and anything else that comes along. She’s definitely my muse and I love the girl to death…I owe her a lot – she keeps my spark going.”
MacKinnon enjoys working with all her photographers, and the variety of their shoots. It’s the diversity and distinctness of each experience that keep things interesting.
“Everyone I work with has such different and unique styles as well as personalities – I love them all,” she says, adding, “I love doing all the pin-up stuff, the themed stuff, the fetish stuff. The only stuff that doesn’t really suit me is glam and fashion I guess, I even tried artistic nudes last summer and I loved those so, I like them all.”
So does her audience. MacKinnon’s talents have opened new doors.
A little over two years ago she submitted a set pf photos to SuicideGirls, an on-line alt-porn community that features soft core photos and profiles of young women who subvert the mainstream look associated with most pornography.
Even though the site warns aspiring models that submissions are often declined on the first try, MacKinnon’s photos were approved right away, much to her surprise.
“I was like I’m totally going to get rejected – and they didn’t and I’m like oh, that’s so awesome,” she says.
With the acceptance of first her set MacKinnon won the right to add Suicide to her model name, and Suspiria Suicide was born. The name is a nod to Suspiria, MacKinnon’s favourite gothic movie by Dario Argento.
And MacKinnon and Davis were featured in season five of Kink. The show, which follows real people as they experiment with life outside our sexual norms, airs on Showcase.
Initially the experience was fun and exciting, but under the same circumstances it’s not something the couple would do again.
“They were everywhere…they were in every room of the house, we were outside at different locations,” recalls MacKinnon.
“For four months,” adds Davis, “it was pretty invasive.”
Dealing with the obstacles that her phobias create makes life more challenging, but MacKinnon is managing so far. Her sanctuary is the home she shares with Davis and their pets, and in the things she does enjoy; coffee, cigarettes, kisses, sunshine, solitude, baths, food, animals and friends.
With more shoots on the horizon it’s obvious that it’ll take more than fear to hold her back.
For Davis it was this spunk, and something else, that first drew him in.
“She looked as if she had an ass that wouldn’t quit”, he recalls, only half joking.
“And it hasn’t”
Hell on Wheels: Halifax Hellcats Roll into Town
The room is cloaked in twilight darkness.
Despite the collection of small low-watt lamps that burn along the edge of the bar, that darkness remains. As each swing of the door ushers in a new arrival, their eyes widen and pupils dilate, struggling to adjust to the room’s dusky dim light.
As their eyes refocus, the new-comers are greeted by a raven-haired seductress sporting tattoos, a retro white nurse’s cap and a bad-ass button that declares, “I do all my own nude scenes”.
“Skater, fan or volunteer?” asks the fair skinned caretaker to the newest arrival. A nametag stuck on her chest screams loudly in red marker that she answers to “Skulluton”, with the name Megan written quietly underneath. Soon the newbie, like everyone else in the room, is displaying a similar calling card.
Skulluton continues to roll out the welcome mat, as an eclectic group of more than a dozen young women and a handful of men mingle, waiting for the evening’s event to begin.
“If you Y roller derby give us money”, says a handwritten sign affixed to a glass jar that sits on the edge of the bar. Short and to the point it highlights the why of the night.
Roller derby has come to Halifax.
“I used to live in Toronto, and my friends started a team up in Toronto, and when I was going to join, unfortunately, I had to leave to come here – we got a job offer”, says Tiffany Spencer, a.k.a. Inked Vixen.
Inked Vixen takes on the multiple roles of manager, coach and skater with the Halifax Hell Cats – the city’s new women’s roller derby league. Along with friends Megan Hawryschuk, and Anna Al-Banna (sKiTtleE), Vixen plays a lead role in the local resurgence of the once popular contact sport.
Roller derby originated in the great depression. Historically a form of sports entertainment, it came to life when Leo Seltzer, a film publicist in Chicago, merged the idea with the walkathon with the rise of the roller skating fad.
The first derby, held in 1935 and dubbed the Transcontinental Roller Derby, was a marathon event lasting more than a month. Over the next two years Seltzer took his derby on the road. When he noticed that the crowds were more excited by the crashes than the race, he tweaked the game to increase the physical contact between skaters.
Eventually the derby evolved into a game played by two teams, who win points by lapping members of the opposing team.
Each bout, or “jam”, consists of five skaters from each team who face off on the derby track. In the case of the Halifax Hellcats this will be a flat track, but some derby leagues skate on a banked track.
Each team is made up of a pivot, three blockers and a jammer. It’s the pivots job to set the pace and lead the skaters, while the blockers stay behind guarding their positions, and each other, in “the pack”.
The jammers are responsible for scoring the points and they do this by skating through the pack. Once the first jammer breaks through she is designated “lead jammer” and after lapping the pack once she receives one point for every member of the opposing team she then passes.
It is in this battle for points that safety becomes an issue as the blockers attempt to assist their jammer by flinging them through the pack, while the other team tries to prevent the opposing jammer from scoring. Each Jam lasts a maximum of two minutes, but they can be called off at any point by the lead jammer tapping her hands on her hips.
Originally roller derby was a mixed gender sport, but today it is dominated by women. Although there are some for-profit leagues that are still mixed, an overwhelming number of teams belong to all-female grassroots’ organizations.
For Inked Vixen that’s part of the draw.
“I grew up as a tomboy so I always hung around boys all the time, and I’d like to be able to have this sport with girls, and meet girls that have the same interests as I do”, she says.
While Vixen had hoped the first Hellcats League meeting would draw enough people to get a couple of teams off the ground, the roster is growing and her wish is coming true.
Raelene Brodie heard about the meeting through her boyfriend. She had been interested in roller derby since watching the A&E documentary series Rollergirls, but didn’t think a league existed in Halifax – which it didn’t, until now.
“I kind of like the aggressiveness of the sport, it’s not like a frilly, girls’ sport”, says Brodie, “but I think it’s empowering for girls, for women, cause it’s kind of taking stuff that would typically objectify women and turning it all around and putting it in this sporting atmosphere and I think that’s really cool. It’s a pretty tough sport and I like tough sports.”
Although she may not have direct experience with roller derby, Brodie is an avid mountain biker, and runner. Many of the other new recruits have little to no experience either, but with training and conditioning starting soon it doesn’t seem to be something they’re too worried about.
“I’m awesome at everything I try”, says Skulluton slyly.
Despite the collection of small low-watt lamps that burn along the edge of the bar, that darkness remains. As each swing of the door ushers in a new arrival, their eyes widen and pupils dilate, struggling to adjust to the room’s dusky dim light.
As their eyes refocus, the new-comers are greeted by a raven-haired seductress sporting tattoos, a retro white nurse’s cap and a bad-ass button that declares, “I do all my own nude scenes”.
“Skater, fan or volunteer?” asks the fair skinned caretaker to the newest arrival. A nametag stuck on her chest screams loudly in red marker that she answers to “Skulluton”, with the name Megan written quietly underneath. Soon the newbie, like everyone else in the room, is displaying a similar calling card.
Skulluton continues to roll out the welcome mat, as an eclectic group of more than a dozen young women and a handful of men mingle, waiting for the evening’s event to begin.
“If you Y roller derby give us money”, says a handwritten sign affixed to a glass jar that sits on the edge of the bar. Short and to the point it highlights the why of the night.
Roller derby has come to Halifax.
“I used to live in Toronto, and my friends started a team up in Toronto, and when I was going to join, unfortunately, I had to leave to come here – we got a job offer”, says Tiffany Spencer, a.k.a. Inked Vixen.
Inked Vixen takes on the multiple roles of manager, coach and skater with the Halifax Hell Cats – the city’s new women’s roller derby league. Along with friends Megan Hawryschuk, and Anna Al-Banna (sKiTtleE), Vixen plays a lead role in the local resurgence of the once popular contact sport.
Roller derby originated in the great depression. Historically a form of sports entertainment, it came to life when Leo Seltzer, a film publicist in Chicago, merged the idea with the walkathon with the rise of the roller skating fad.
The first derby, held in 1935 and dubbed the Transcontinental Roller Derby, was a marathon event lasting more than a month. Over the next two years Seltzer took his derby on the road. When he noticed that the crowds were more excited by the crashes than the race, he tweaked the game to increase the physical contact between skaters.
Eventually the derby evolved into a game played by two teams, who win points by lapping members of the opposing team.
Each bout, or “jam”, consists of five skaters from each team who face off on the derby track. In the case of the Halifax Hellcats this will be a flat track, but some derby leagues skate on a banked track.
Each team is made up of a pivot, three blockers and a jammer. It’s the pivots job to set the pace and lead the skaters, while the blockers stay behind guarding their positions, and each other, in “the pack”.
The jammers are responsible for scoring the points and they do this by skating through the pack. Once the first jammer breaks through she is designated “lead jammer” and after lapping the pack once she receives one point for every member of the opposing team she then passes.
It is in this battle for points that safety becomes an issue as the blockers attempt to assist their jammer by flinging them through the pack, while the other team tries to prevent the opposing jammer from scoring. Each Jam lasts a maximum of two minutes, but they can be called off at any point by the lead jammer tapping her hands on her hips.
Originally roller derby was a mixed gender sport, but today it is dominated by women. Although there are some for-profit leagues that are still mixed, an overwhelming number of teams belong to all-female grassroots’ organizations.
For Inked Vixen that’s part of the draw.
“I grew up as a tomboy so I always hung around boys all the time, and I’d like to be able to have this sport with girls, and meet girls that have the same interests as I do”, she says.
While Vixen had hoped the first Hellcats League meeting would draw enough people to get a couple of teams off the ground, the roster is growing and her wish is coming true.
Raelene Brodie heard about the meeting through her boyfriend. She had been interested in roller derby since watching the A&E documentary series Rollergirls, but didn’t think a league existed in Halifax – which it didn’t, until now.
“I kind of like the aggressiveness of the sport, it’s not like a frilly, girls’ sport”, says Brodie, “but I think it’s empowering for girls, for women, cause it’s kind of taking stuff that would typically objectify women and turning it all around and putting it in this sporting atmosphere and I think that’s really cool. It’s a pretty tough sport and I like tough sports.”
Although she may not have direct experience with roller derby, Brodie is an avid mountain biker, and runner. Many of the other new recruits have little to no experience either, but with training and conditioning starting soon it doesn’t seem to be something they’re too worried about.
“I’m awesome at everything I try”, says Skulluton slyly.
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