Long road to accept PM's residential school apology

In the spring of 1997, former students attended a healing ceremony on the grounds of the old residential school near Sioux Lookout. The healing ceremony involved both Christian and Anishinaabe spiritual leaders. The night before the ceremony, I had a dream. I dreamt that I was walking towards the old school. In the distance, I could see flickering of lights against the shiny silver roof of the building. As I got closer, I could see that the flickering was actually blackbirds dancing on the roof top. One by one the blackbirds began to lift into the sky – into the heavens above. The land had returned to its natural state; perhaps a symbol of a people coming back. I was later told by a spiritual teacher, the meaning of the dream. The blackbirds I saw in my dream were thunderbirds. The thunderbirds were lifting away the pain and suffering that was inflicted upon so many young innocent children at that site.

August 7, 2008: Volume 35 #16

Introduction –
initial response
As a survivor of Canada’s Indian Residential School system, I really did not expect to witness such a powerful and moving Statement of Apology as I did on June 11; at least not in my lifetime.

Hours before the Apology, I was filled with nervousness; filled with anxiety. I really didn’t know what to expect. Was this event going to be a bunch of words that would ring hollow and lack substance? Would it go far enough?

Like the scared little boy who was taken away from his family so many years ago, I clammed up and waited anxiously for the words – expecting the unknown. I had made a mental list of the things I wanted to hear in the Apology. As I listened intently to the delivery, in my mind I was checking off the things I heard: children being forcibly removed from their families and communities; honouring those who never returned home, and those who passed on without ever hearing the Apology; acknowledging the impacts of the system including, for example, the lack of parenting skills; acknowledging the emotional, physical and sexual abuse; validating the “social problems that continue to exist in many communities today.”

I thought the Apology was pretty thorough.

The little boy inside me felt a huge lump in the throat when I heard reference to the “neglect of helpless children and their separation from powerless families and communities.” Many survivors, if not all, will attest that those words echo with lingering memories of being torn a part from families and loved ones.

Having been in the healing movement for almost two decades, I felt a real honour to listen to the words of the Apology from the government. As I watched and listened to the words coming from the mouth of Prime Minister Stephen Harper, I could feel the memories of my time spent at the Pelican Indian Residential School (near Sioux Lookout) take over me emotionally.

Unlike previous times though, particularly in the early days of confronting the past, this feeling was different. I was no longer crying tears of pain and suffering.

This time I felt honoured. This time I felt that someone had listened to and heard the thousands of stories of the horrible legacy of the Indian Residential School system. As a person living with the affects of the Indian Residential School system, I felt acknowledged. Finally, someone validated a living past that each survivor carries with them. Finally, a sense of freedom, a sense of real hope for a new future was in sight.

This time I cried with tears of honour. This time the tears would help wash away the suffering and bring about a new turn on this healing journey.

For the first time, I felt a real sense of hope on the horizon – beginning of a new era.

I was one of the fortunate survivors to receive an invitation to attend and witness the Apology in Ottawa. However, at the last moment, I felt the urge to watch the delivery of the Apology at Pelican on the very grounds of the former residential school. Personally, I felt blessed to be with my family, including my children and grandchildren, to witness this historic day. I know that my children have carried the brunt of the intergenerational impacts of the Indian Residential School system.

It is my hope that my grand children will not carry the same burdens.

Breakup of the family fabric
The Indian Residential School system pierced the very soul of our existence. It destroyed families. The aim was “to kill the Indian in the child.”

The words of the Apology hit the centre of my heart when I heard reference to how the system broke up healthy families. The system weakened strong communities and vibrant nations. To illustrate this point, I want to mention an exercise that was used at a sharing circle that I participated in.

The participants, all Indian Residential School survivors, were asked to draw a picture of what life was like before being taken away from their families. And going around in a circle, each person talked about their illustration and its meaning.

All drew and talked about being with parents and siblings; spending time with loving families and extended families; living off the land – fishing, hunting and trapping; gathering berries; harvesting wild rice; and, attending cultural activities and ceremonies.

For many survivors, this was the way of life before being institutionalized at a residential school.

Then the second part of the sharing circle exercise was to talk about – what happened after being taken away? That is the question that many survivors are struggling with today and all are at different stages of their personal healing journeys. Some may never come to terms with their living past. Many have journeyed on into healing; reconciling and some have even found the courage to forgive.

Need to Talk
At the beginning of my healing journey, I was often met by both silence and denial. Some members of my family thought it was best that I forget and move on from the residential school experience. For whatever reason, the First Nations leaders I was working with at the time deplored my personal disclosure of the residential school story, albeit, a very painful experience with bouts of anger eating at my soul.

Some staff members at the Anglican Church were willing to listen to my story.

Often their hands were tied by the upper echelon of the church in terms of what they could and could not do. At the time no one in government was listening. In my view, the lack of trust and the lack of communication were barriers to overcome by churches and government. Both were afraid of the consequences such as liability and responsibility. Simply, we were too afraid to talk to one another.

The parties have come to realize that this issue is not just about liability and responsibility, but about people living with deep-rooted impacts of something that went so horribly wrong.

By virtue of the Apology, the government has now embarked upon a healing journey with survivors. The government stated to survivors, “You have been working on recovering from this experience for a long time and in a very real sense, we are now joining you on this journey.”

Coming from the dark corners of silence and denial to this profound statement, this is testimony filled with hope. These words mark a significant milestone along the journey to healing and reconciliation.

And on the eve of the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, we have all been given the tool to speak freely of our experiences. The TRC is the tool that will encourage the much needed dialogue to take place in the next five years. This dialogue will lead to truth and understanding.

A survivor and now an elder once told me, “We need to talk. It’s amazing how we can heal if we allow ourselves to communicate.”

After the Apology
The way the Apology was delivered was very symbolic. It bought together both the aboriginal and non-aboriginal leadership to the floor of the House of Commons. In retrospect, it would have been further symbolic had representatives of the churches also been on the floor of the House of Commons during the delivery of the Apology.

Perhaps this leaves the challenge for the churches to work more closely at the community level in helping to restore balance and harmony.

While the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and its work will be highly visible at the national stage and beyond, we must also be diligently committed to help create meaningful social change at the community level. This challenge will, of course, involve local groups such as schools, hospitals, municipal and other political entities, and churches.

In other words, the challenge for all of us is – What can we do at the community level to complement the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission?

Here is an example of what could happen at the community level. I often meet former staff members of residential schools in the community. As often as I meet them, I fathom the thought of having heart-to-heart talks with them about what happened. These kinds of meaningful discussions could happen without blame or shame, but in a healing way. These talking circles would include: church representatives, government officials, survivors and former staff of residential schools.

As Canadians, we need to talk. And, together we can move forward and translate our words into meaningful action.

On June 11 on the grounds of the old residential school, I saw significant signs that my dream was coming true.

I truly felt the wings of those majestic thunderbirds take away more pain.

It’s time, once again to move forward. In the words of one of my mentors, “As a people, we are coming back.”