A Public Reference: Links about Daniel Gallant

This is a list of articles and profiles for public reference.

TV Links:

Brotherhood of Hate Online Story

Global News Segment

Behind the Story Interview with Krysia Collier (Producer)

Brotherhood of Hate Show (16×9)

Newspaper Links:

Aboriginal Multi-Media

Ex-skinhead seeks path of redemption

Education in the extreme

Speaking out about residential schools

On Nazi Propaganda

Rally against racism

Prince George white supremacists gaining momentum

Anti Racist Rally Announcement

Anti Racist Rally Prince George

Sharpeville Rally

The Powar of Love

Radio:

2004: CBC Radio: Edmonton: White Supremacist Bombings

2010: CBC Radio: Edmonton: Hate Group Activity

2011: CBC Radio: Edmonton: Recent Hate Crimes

2011: CBC Radio: Calgary: Recent Hate Crimes

2012: CBC Radio: Prince George: Healing from Hate through Writing

Profiles:

Life after hate

Kindness Not Weakness

Facebook

Link’dIn

Twitter

Existential Liberation from Emotional Rape

I wrote this piece while in tears.

Someone very close to me told me about her relationship with her partner. When I think about her situation I question and wonder why it is that we people can be stuck. I reflect on my experiences and patterns of being stuck in patterns I wanted out of. Patterns that seemed to consume me. Patterns that closed off alternative ways of engaging with life. Patterns that stifled my spirit. Patterns that stifled my voice.

I am free now. At least from most of these shackling patterns. My heart wrenches daily when I think about my beautiful friend and her situation. Wishing there was a way to assist and support her to make what I believe is the ‘right’ choice. But, what I understand is that perhaps some people need to stay stuck. The pay off of being stuck can sometimes supersede priority of achieving liberation.

My path is to choose volition, meaning, purpose, and existential liberation. When I become my worst barrier, I do my best to put myself out in the open; congruent with transparency in my being that employs me to be as vulnerable as possible. I understand most people do not want to feel vulnerable. These lessons were taught to me by Viktor Frankl in his book Man’s Search for Meaning.

In my life experience vulnerability is my freedom. Liberation through vulnerability, while allowing myself to feel shame, guilt, regret, and utter sadness allows me to enjoy the moments of my life that have more meaningful impacts on my spirit than I ever thought was possible.

I am not shackled today, by choice. There is a cost for this. It intimidates many people; many people do not understand why and how I would do this; folks can sometimes pick me as a target for social attacks in their ego-based social warfare; often I am scape-goated because I leave myself vulnerable in many respects; and people often perceive me as being ego-centric, self-righteous, and a martyr because they are uncomfortable with my state of being.

This poem, is so important to my spirit. This poem is one of the few pieces I re-read time and time again. I never want to be the repeated emotional abuser against another person that I claim to love. My understanding of love for another demands that my partner would want and desire me. Never do I want to be the recipient of mechanical offerings for sexually-dominant gratification. To do so would violate my spirit, and the spirit of the one proclaimed to be loved.

Paulo Freire, in his book Pedagogy of the Oppressed, talks about how our education system is mechanical, oppressive, and abusive. He offers a solution that offers a pathway of education that honours the spirit. A way for education to be turned into a true dialogue where the teacher and student build a humanistic bridge between one another. A bridge that is built upon the foundation of meaningful humanistic dialogue. This dynamic of education that Freire articulates can be interpreted as a metaphor for relationships.

Later on, Paulo Freire wrote a book called Pedagogy of the Heart. In this book he describes the point that if we operate in mechanical ways of being, we become close minded and close hearted. Often people attribute being closed minded as being ‘old’. Freire talks about living life with a young mind in spite of having an ‘old’ body. We do not need to be ‘old’ because we are closing in on the end of our life. He indicates that remaining young in the mind is liberation. In this point, he explains that we should always do our best to remain respectively vulnerable and open to learning from one another. Engaging in mechanical relationships, as described in this poem, is to close off the human spirit and to stifle our true intrinsic and ontological purpose: existential liberation.

I offer this poem to honour my connection to my kin-spirit. I offer this poem to those engaged and stuck in a pattern that they feel deep down in their heart and/or mind that feels like a violation. There is a way out of a pattern. It takes a willingness to become comfortable with the uncomfortableness of being vulnerable, while knowing you risk being hurt. Vulnerability can be transformed into a spiritual strength; or a moral standardized way of being.

I do my best to be as vulnerable as possible and to let people know me, as I am. I resist and falter in this action because I am human, but I am willing to repeatedly make the conscious decision to re-establish my vulnerability. I am my own worst enemy. As an adult who has achieved a degree of existential liberation, I allow myself to be free from my own fear whenever possible. especially in matters relating to the heart.

This poem is currently unpublished.

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Cryptic Night

I guess this one needs no introduction because it has the word cryptic in the title :p

This piece is currently un-published.

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I must contextualize this piece a bit…sometimes omission of vulnerability is the weakness that repeatedly damns us into a vor-TEXT of regret. Dreams can haunt us through many means. Not every hurtful dream is a night filled with horrific memories…sometimes nightmares are the omission of vulnerability that linger in every breath until there is no more breath.

A Place: Iron Forest

Love is a future mother.

Today I reflect on one of the most important stories I have ever heard. It offered me so many lessons. It is amazing how a place that we have never been to, can be so connected to our spirit and hearts. Merely by hearing the story through someone we understand and love.

My best friend, in this life, told me a story. I think about it nearly everyday. I consider what it must be like to be tied to a place culturally, spiritually, mentally, emotionally, and functionally. i have not experienced what that is like. Sometimes I overlook the challenges that others go through because my frame of reference does not permit me to fully grasp what it means to deeply connected to family, culture, and place.

I do have some family, what is left it that is. I do have people I love. I have many people that love me. Probably more than I understand. Most people seem to access love easier than I do. I am honoured that people offer me such empathy and love, even though I am not always the easiest to love. I have deeply connected relationships that surpass any hope I ever had for connections. I believed I was utterly detached and unable to love.

In the last couple of years I have learnt what it means to truly love a friend so deeply that I would do whatever I can to honour that friendship. But still making room for my mistakes. I know that no one person can be an absolute everything, nor resolve, for another person. But I do know I have a choice in how I am in any given relationship. For some people there are deep ties to others, and often that deep connection includes a place. A place of birth. A place of childhood memories, both good and bad. A place that was mystic. A place that was safe. A place.

I can only imagine what that would be like. I think if I was tied to a particular place that I had memories of, or born in, that i would never want to leave. Especially if the people I loved were also connected to that place. I guess that what they mean when they say place has memory.

I recently wrote this poem about a place I have never been. But it is a place that I love deeply. That place is the birthplace of truth. The beginning of purity. A place that has born inspiration. A place of hope. A place of a deeply beautiful sadness. Perhaps a place of deep solace. Remorse. Regret…but definitively a place of remembrance.

A place that is loved, by love herself.

Image Forest

Poem: Would You Believe Me

This poem is currently unpublished. I thought it was appropriate following the 16×9 show “Supremacy: Brotherhood of Hate”.

ps. I am looking for a publishing house for my biography and poetry that follows suit with the genre I write.

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Scarved Embrace

This poem is currently unpublished.

On a chilly evening walking around Vancouver, BC, in January 2013 I wore a silk scarf given to me by a close friend. I walked around the streets that I lived on as a homeless child in the 1990s.

I was doing my first TV filming for a national production. I have always avoided TV interviews. It was a big step for me to accept this TV appearance. I was in Vancouver reluctantly. I had other plans of how and when I was to go to Vancouver, but they fell through.

As I walked through the battle grounds where I damaged hundreds of people in the past, and where I felt utterly lost and damaged as a child and young adult. I was now walking these streets a loving and compassionate man. I returned to the lower main land base where I proclaimed my war against society. I was once an over-zealous-fanatic demented by my commitment to engaging in a race war with my fellows. I walked these streets in 2013 feeling many things and left to process my return the streets. Alone.

I wore the scarf in solace. I walked. I cried. I experienced dialogues with street kids. I heard a story that crushed me. A girl in the same situation I was in when I was her age. I do not know her name. My life changed maybe hers will too, but most likely she will die. I processed these things alone, which made me sad. It seemed that decades later I walk the same streets that I lived on as a homeless youth utterly alone. This time, I am not utterly alone. And most importantly I have myself.

I have overcome many horrible things in my life, but there are somethings that can not be healed. People come and go, sometimes unnecessarily, the only constant is my own being. Sometimes the only thing I can do is find a way to embrace myself. With memories and solace from a scarf.

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My Daughter Loves to Joke

This poem is the first poem I am premiering on this blog. This, for me, is a profound piece and I put it out in the world to tell my daughter that I am proud of her; life can be tough but we have to keep smiling and be our authentic self. This is about my Daughter Madisson. A girl who is so much like her father.

Every other poem on this blog was previously published. This is a big deal. S take the time to have a read.

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My Brother

My Brother

This poem was Printed in the Prairie Journal: A Magazine of Canadian Literature no. 58, 2012.

I wrote this poem when I was 16 years old in a juvenile detention centre. I had served a two year sentence from ages 15-17 years old. Although I had already been on my own for quite sometime I always missed my little brother.

Hate in the North (Part V): White Lies

In addition to the conspiracy oriented backbone of the white supremacist worldview there is another likewise problematic misconception. This is the notion of racial purity and the links biology has to culture. Eugenics based science/theory, which is archaic in its development, and the belief that biological determinism is one of the crux of white supremacist idealism speaks to the lens of these pseudo-intellectual lenses. We as a collective society now understand that race and biology do not determine socialization. Socio-cultural dynamics which include intelligence, deviance and criminality are referenced throughout much of the right-wing doctrine as being linked directly to physiology and biology. This biologically determined belief structure is not only archaic, but de-bunked as a science. As indicated by UNBC professor and scholar Michelle Bouchard race is a social construct and what people typically refer to as ‘race’ does not actually exist genetically in a solidified and quantitative manner.

Loose connections are the root of white supremacist doctrine and propaganda. Extremists from the right wing agenda, like Arthur Topham, regurgitate distasteful, hurtful and violent messages, which are rooted in half-baked pseudo-intellectualism. These individuals are not tucked away into the corners of society and hidden away. They work in your schools, courtrooms, universities and construction sites. It is my goal to include, in this blog, insight into who some of these people are; and what they are up to. It is my hope to inform those from the extreme-far-right, that there is a way out of the misconceptions of their indoctrination; all while promoting compassion and solidarity amongst our collective human experience in order to decrease the amount of abuse and oppression that occurs in our country, our cities, our streets, our institutions, our homes and most importantly in our minds.