I had more ups than downs during my time in Bushtown and thus have many fond memories and of course some not so fond memories that helped to make me who I am today. In the end it was whisky and friends that got me through the tough times and whisky and friends that got me in trouble a bit too often. After I left Bushtown I lost touch with the friends I had made there but the same whisky lingers on my breath which is why I can remember my days and the people in Bushtown like it was just yesterday. My story, I would argue my life, began, when after a brief stint as a substitute teacher at Bushtown High School a fulltime teaching position opened up at the high school. Before I knew it the good old boys that ran the show at Bushtown High School each pitched in for a bottle of Canada's finest whisky and came to visit me at the little shack I called home. After getting liquored up, the boys went around the shack to cut to the chase of why they thought I should put my name into the hat for the recently vacated teaching position at their high school. Each of the boys had their chance to share their favorite teaching tale about me, but in the end, the tale that put me over the edge as to why I should apply was the story of a young Native girl named Veronica whom always fought for the underdog and listened to no one but me. Elmer, the vice principal at the school, who loved all of his students, but who had a special place for his Native students, recalled how I had taken Veronica aside to tell her she was a leader unlike any I had ever seen and that if she continued to work hard there was nothing she couldn't achieve. It wasn't long before I realized the story of Veronica was my story too, at which point I shed a whisky tear and said, "You boys are right, I am the man for the job." And so in January of 1998, I, a beginning biology teacher, addressed the grade twelve biology students I'd previously met as a substitute teacher for the first time as their regular classroom teacher...