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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Times Advocate, 2004-02-18, Page 10Crossroads 10 Wednesday, February 18, 2004 Exeter Times Advocate SHDHS student wins history challenge By Pat Bolen TIMES -ADVOCATE STAFF EXETER — "I've had a lot of really good teachers who have really loved his- tory, and that has influ- enced how much I like history." South Huron District high school student Ally Macgregor's interest in history started with stud- ies on ancient civilizations in Grade 3 and has led to her winning a national contest. Macgregor was recently announced as one of the winners in the Mathieu Da Costa Challenge for her short story on Tom Longboat, the first aborig- inal to win the Boston Marathon. Sponsored by the Canadian Teachers Federation, the contest recognizes the achieve- ments of Da Costa, who was the first recorded black man to set foot in Canada. Da Costa arrived on the ship of Samuel de Champlain 400 years ago, and worked as the inter- preter to the Mi'kmaqs. The aim of the contest is also to explore the contri- butions of people of dif- ferent backgrounds to Canada's heritage. Entrants in the chal- lenge could submit work in several different cate- gories, including essays, short stories and artwork. In honour of the 400th anniversary of the arrival of the first black man in Canada, a special award was given out this year, for the best essay or short story in both English and French celebrating a black Canadian. Macgregor's short story on Longboat was chosen as the winning entry in the English portion of the challenge. "Running is My Life" described Longboat's experiences in the First World War after winning the Boston Marathon in 1907. Macgregor said she decided to write the story on Longboat after hearing about him in her Canadian history class, taught by Tracy McLennan. What made Macgregor decide to write about Longboat was, "he was a minority, and the first aboriginal to win the Boston Marathon." "I thought that was really important, as well as the recurring themes of the relationship between the aboriginals and the rest of Canada, how it has always been a real struggle." "I thought if we highlight- ed something good that an aboriginal has done it would help to make people more aware of their contribu- tions to Canada." Writing the story gave her a greater understand- ing of what aboriginals have faced, according to Macgregor. "There was a lot of mention of how people called him the Redskin runner and all these derogatory comments and I thought they should have had more respect for someone with as much talent as he did." The story captured a moment in Longboat's life. After he had experi- enced racism from virtu- ally everyone around him, a young soldier expressed "I thought they should have had more respect for someone with as much talent as he did." ALLY MACGREGOR SHDHS STUDENT his admiration for Longboat. McLennan, who said the story was very well writ- ten, described the scene. "When this one friend begins talking who has admiration for him and doesn't say anything derogatory, Longboat was actually rather shocked, because he was treated as anybody else." "His comrades kind of ignored him, and made fun of him and then this boy walked up to him and showed a lot of respect and they developed a friendship," said Macgregor. With her overall interest in history, Macgregor said one of her favourite parts of history is ancient civi- lizations. "It's the culture, I like looking at what their beliefs were and how they're different from modern beliefs." She also has an interest in the British Monarchy, specifically their personal lives and scandals. "I read a book this summer about the wives of king Henry the eighth and what their lives were like and thought it was fascinat- ing. McLennan, who men- SHDHS student Ally Macgregor and her history teacher Tracy McLennan. Macgregor was recently named a winner in the Mathieu Da Costa Challenge for a short story she wrote. (photo/PatBolen) tioned the contest to Macgregor, says she tries to make her classes fun. "We do debates and presentations and try to get hands on. Right now in my ancient civilizations course we're doing a Greek trial and in Canadian history they're encouraged to role play and dress up. With the First World War we wrote letters and you had to be a person from the war and write as that person, doing the research behind it and making it believ- able." Macgregor and her par- ents are flying to Ottawa Feb. 25-29 for the awards ceremony. She is looking forward to the chance to see the historical attractions of the city, including the Parliament buildings and the museum of civiliza- tion. 'Running is My Life' byAlexandra Macgregor In the early hours of the morning on May 19, 1917, Tom Longboat stared out across No Man's Land and marveled at the fiery red sunrise draped across the sky behind what he knew to be the German trenches. From his position on a half -collapsed fire -step, Tom could not actually see the enemy's front line, but the constant barrage of shells was an incessant reminder to Tom that he was in the thick of a bloody war. Tom's heart pounded as he watched clouds of dirt and debris burst from the ground and fill the air between the Allied trenches and the enemy, temporari- ly obscuring the brilliant horizon from view. As he stepped down from the fire -step, Tom was relieved that he was not on the front lines that morning. He knew that, at this very moment, many of his com- rades were preparing for the daily stand -to. He could picture the men, rifles loaded and bayonets fixed into place, grimly taking their positions on the many fire -steps that lined the front line trenches. He thought of his friend John Marshall, a young boy of 19 who had been shot down during a stand -to only weeks ago. It had been on that fateful day that the Germans took the offensive and attacked the Allied trenches. Tom sighed as he recalled the sky that had burned blood red that morning. Tom had not been assigned to the front lines that morning either. Later, he heard of young John's death from another soldier who had been injured in the fight- ing. "He fought bravely enough," the man had said, his face ashen and streaked with mud and blood. "He's with the Lord now, anyway." Tom said nothing and the man limped away, favour- ing his left side. As he watched him disappear, Tom thought back to his first meeting with John Marshall only a few days after his arrival in France. John had approached Tom carefully and he hadn't even noticed the bright-eyed young man sidle up next to him as he polished his rifle. "Sir," John had said, startling Tom and causing him to drop the rifle. "What?" Tom had barked in reply, agitated that his freshly cleaned gun had plunged barrel -first into the knee-high mud that filled the trenches. "Sorry, sir," John had stuttered, "I didn't mean to alarm you." Tom looked up at the boy, almost a foot taller than himself, and saw that his face had reddened with embarrassment. It isn't often that a white man humbles himself for an Indian, Tom thought to himself. "What is it you want, boy?" he asked, softening his tone. John avoided Tom,s gaze and fixed his eyes on the pile of sandbags just above Tom's head. Tom took no notice of the boy's apparent discomfort and prepared himself for some sort of insult. The older men often chided Tom about his reddish skin and strange features. They called him "Pow -Wow Boy" and other derogatory names, often to his face. It would come as no surprise to Tom if the young man before him had been pres- sured to do the same. "I mean no disrespect, sir," the boy final- ly managed to say, "but I was wondering if it's true what the other men are saying. Are you really Tom Longboat, the Indian marathoner?" Tom nodded. "You,ve heard of me, then?" "Heard of you!" John had exclaimed, his face lighting up with excitement. "I was there when you crossed the finish line at the Boston Marathon in 1907! I was visit- ing my grandfather and he took my brothers and me to watch the race. You were fantastic, sir. No one could believe that an Indian had won the Boston Marathon!" Tom had smiled in spite of himself. "That was a long time ago, you know." John grinned. "That doesn't matter. A race like that isn't something you soon forget." In the hours that followed Tom found himself recount- ing to John the details of each of his many races, including his defeat in the 1908 Olympic marathon. "I know everyone thinks you just burnt-out, sir," John had said solemnly when Tom told him of collapsing only 19 miles into the race, "But to be perfectly honest, I believe there was some foul play involved." Tom looked away absent-mindedly. "It doesn't mat- ter. My racing days are over. Even if I make it out of this mess alive, I'm too old to race again, although I'm itching to run. I wonder if Lieut. Harris has anything that needs delivering...." Tom trailed off, his eyes scan- ning the men around him for the familiar face of his commanding officer. "What do you mean?" John inquired. "The lieutenant often has me run messages to other military posts. I'll be the first to admit it's dangerous work, but it's a relief to run anywhere - even if it might cost me my life." Tom's mind drifted for a moment and he remembered when he had run every- where as a child, often racing the wild animals who proved to be better competi- tion than other children. "Amazing, sir," John said breathlessly "You must have to run fast." "Running is my life," Tom said, almost to himself. The blast of a shell exploding nearby brought Tom out of his reverie. He blinked back tears and tried to erase the laughing face of John Marshall from his memory. He was relieved when Lieut. Harris approached him suddenly, message in hand. "Longboat, I've got an assignment for you," Harris snapped, thrusting the envelope into Tom,s shaking hand. "Take this to the general, and be quick about it." "Yes, sir!" Tom shoved the envelope into his pocket and turned to leave, but a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Longboat," Harris began sternly, "Are you really that crazy Indian who won the Boston Marathon?" "Yes, sir," Tom replied carefully, John's voice echoing in his head. "That was a race I won't soon forget. The whole coun- try was proud of you. " "Thank you, sir." And Tom began to run. The older men often chided Tom about his reddish skin and strange features.They called him "Pow -Wow Boy" and other derogatory names, often to his face.