Our Stories Aren’t Too Long — You’re Just Not Used to Listening

 Our Stories Aren’t Too Long — You’re Just Not Used to Listening

By Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita

Recently, I had a moment with a friend that stuck with me. She asked me to explain something — I think it was about the Sen̓áḵw development and the towers being built by the Squamish Nation. It’s a complex topic tied to land, history, sovereignty, and survival. I hesitated, not because I didn’t want to share, but because it’s a huge conversation, and honestly — a painful one.

She got frustrated. “Can’t you just summarize it into something I can understand?” she said.

That hurt. And it made me angry.

This is something Indigenous people — and anyone who’s been marginalized — know all too well. People want the knowledge, but not the story. They want the summary, not the journey. They want you to teach them, but they don’t want to do the work of learning.

And the worst part? When you do try to explain, they say your story is too long.

But our stories are not too long.

They are layered. They are sacred. They are passed down, piece by piece, over time, because that’s how true understanding happens. That’s how healing and remembering work. That’s how many Indigenous cultures have always taught — through repetition, through relationships, through deep listening.

And honestly? Explaining these things is exhausting. It’s not just a history lesson. It’s personal. It brings up grief, anger, and the weight of everything that was taken and erased. Every time we have to explain why the land matters, or what sovereignty means, or why a development isn’t just a “construction project,” it opens wounds.

And too often, when we do speak, people tune out. They say:
“That’s too long.”
“Too emotional.”
“Too much.”

But it’s not “too much.”
It’s just not yours, and you haven’t learned to sit with it.

If you really want to understand — listen without interrupting. Ask without expecting. Learn without demanding. Respect the story, even when it’s hard to hear.

We are not walking encyclopedias. We are living people carrying memory, spirit, and survival. We shouldn’t have to bleed every time someone wants a shortcut to understanding.

So next time you feel tempted to say “just summarize it” — ask yourself why you're rushing through someone else’s truth.

Because our stories deserve to be heard.
Fully. Truthfully. And with the time they require.

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