It was a late summer’s evening walking with my partner and our dog. It was one of those cool evenings just before sunset, it was the perfect light jacket weather. We had just had several days of rain and you could still smell the sogginess of the rain the evening before on the grass path, despite the temperature being in its 30s all day.

Unbeknownst to me this path on this day changed the way I viewed the transmission of indigenous culture. I smelt a sweetness in the area. Something my senses recalled from a rural experience, a medicine walk to Walpole Island some years ago for sweet grass. Astonished being in urban London more specifically South branch park the smell was identical. Once you smell sweet grass fresh for the first time you will always know what it smells like in the future.

Albeit not a traditional approach but I had a vision of a place where urban elders and grandparents could transmit their culture privately or ceremonially. This space would remove barriers of transportation and mobility allowing them to still share a roll of teaching for the next generation.

That’s how Mushkeeki Gitigan came to be.