On May 22 the Tk’emlups te Secwepemc First Nation revealed they had located the likely remains of 215 children from the nearby Kamloops Indian Residential School in an unmarked grave adjacent to the school. They used ground penetrating radar to make the find and further confirmation is proceeding. It is expected many more such grave sites will be found across Canada in the days and months ahead. The news washed over Canada like a Tsunami with politicians and other leaders expressing shock and outrage. First Nations people were neither shocked nor surprised.
European settlers in Canada and the missionaries who accompanied them viewed the native population as inferior and needing assimilation into European Christian values and behaviour. The first Indian Residential School, as they were titled, was built before Confederation in 1831, but it wasn’t until after the formal creation of Canada in 1867 and “The Indian Act”of 1876 was passed that the system really took hold. At their peak, there were over one hundred and thirty such schools in every part of Canada. Canada’s first and founding Prime Minister, Sir John A. MacDonald, was instrumental in their creation. The schools were funded by the Government of Canada and were mostly administered by Christian churches. Their stated goal was to ensure native children received an education that would prepare them to participate in Canadian society. Their actual goal was more sinister. It was the eradication of First Nations’ cultures and identities in a Canada dominated by European settlers or, in the words of historian, James S. Milloy, “to kill the Indian in the child”. This was done by forcibly removing the children from their families, culture and language and instilling shame about their Indian background. Schools were often built far from the families to ensure there was no contact with their children. In 1894 the Indian Act was amended to make attendance at Indian Residential Schools mandatory, resulting in the forced removal of children from their families until well into the twentieth century.
In the one hundred plus years of the Indian Residential School system more than 150,000 children were held in them. At one point over one third of native children in Canada were housed in a Residential School. The Kamloops Indian Residential School closed in 1978 and the last Indian Residential School closed in 1996. This isn’t ancient history. It occurred during the lifetimes of most of us.
Children at the schools were often abused physically, sexually and emotionally. They were denied the love and support of their parents and families as they encountered this bewildering world of nuns and priests and rules and regulations that made no sense to them. Imagine if you can what it would have been like to be such a child in such a place. My mother was raised without the love and support of either a mother or a father and, although she was supported by a loving grandmother and aunts, she never fully recovered from that loss of parental support. And think about the parents and families. Think how you would have felt if your children were seized and taken far away, with no communication and no understanding when, if ever, they would be returned.
Much of Canadian history is a reaction to our southern neighbour, the United States. Growing up we were taught that, unlike the Americans, Canadians didn’t slaughter the native populations as they expropriated and occupied their lands. We were taught they were treated reasonably, even humanely, under the circumstances. We were taught that although our approach was more civilized, even generous, it had often failed, but that really wasn’t our fault. And all the while we were kidnapping their children and doing everything we could to extirpate their cultures, identities and self worth.
I was born in the late 1940’s and raised in Alberta, mostly in small towns. There were Indian Reservations near those towns but very little contact between them and the European inhabitants of the towns and surrounding farms. At most, native men might be hired to help in the harvest. Although I don’t remember anything specific, there was a general view the natives were lazy, backward, unreliable, prone to alcoholism and generally untrustworthy.
In early 1990 I visited Germany for the first time. The Berlin wall was torn down a few months previous. As someone born just after the Second World War to parents who had participated in it I was surprised at how normal, friendly and welcoming the Germans were in light of the country’s Nazi past. I remember talking to a young man and asking how he felt about the atrocities committed by the Nazi’s. He pointed out he wasn’t born during that period and his mother was just a child but he did say he asked his grandmother about the horrors committed by the Nazis and she responded that she and most other Germans didn’t know what was going on. I found that unbelievable.
I don’t remember any discussion of Indian Residential Schools as I was growing up. I certainly wasn’t aware of them and, as best I can determine, neither my parents nor my grandparents had much, if any, knowledge of them. And yet, with the benefit of hindsight, I wonder “how is that possible?”. And although I understand the minefield of drawing comparisons between Nazi atrocities in Europe and other genocidal events, I now feel the same incredulity I felt all those years ago when I was told ordinary Germans didn’t know what was going on. It might be more accurate to say they didn’t want to know and now in Canada it’s an inescapable fact that many, many Canadians did know and either supported it or didn’t care. Federal politicians over a century; provincial and local politicians over that same period; and bureaucrats, thousands of bureaucrats kept busy implementing the objectives of their political overlords; they, at least, all knew and surely it couldn’t have been confined just to them. Sound familiar?
I first became aware of Indian Residential Schools sometime in the past twenty years, perhaps even the past ten. I didn’t pay them much attention and assumed their role was at worst misguided, believing they were a well meaning effort to give native children a leg up, an opportunity to become full and participating members of Canadian (European) society. When stories emerged of abuse at the schools I, like most I suspect, assumed they were exceptions, exceptions where the perpetrators should be punished, but exceptions none the less. I didn’t bother to inquire further about the schools and assumed they were creations of the nineteenth century that had disappeared long before I was born. And when representatives of First Nations people complained about the Residential Schools I mostly tuned out, drifting into the old narrative about native people and generally assuming they simply didn’t know what was in their best interests. All around me in Vancouver, which became my home sixty years ago, I could find examples of the Indian stereotype that was subliminally instilled in me growing up: lazy, unemployed, unkempt and drunk or drugged, not someone who could be redeemed or, for that matter, was worth redeeming.
Canada has cultivated an image of itself as open, liberal, progressive, generous, and as free from racism as any large multi cultural country on earth, perhaps ever.
And then the 215 bodies were found.
Suddenly I’m confronting a terrible truth about my country. Suddenly I’m identifying with the children and their parents as the state separates them. I feel as if I’ve been walking on these children’s bones my entire life.
The purpose of Indian Residential Schools was to eliminate the “Indian” presence in Canada. And to some extent, it succeeded. Multiple generations of survivors of residential schools have battled with the demons created by their treatment as children, often lapsing into addictions and many other anti social behaviours. Canadian prisons are full of them. And that’s on us because, regardless of what we and our ancestors knew or did not know, this was done in our name and we own it.
But despite the best efforts of successive Canadian governments going back over a century, native cultures and societies persist even if profoundly damaged, disfigured and weakened. And it is our sacred duty to help them lift themselves up and to heal. I will leave it to others to determine how we do that but I know it starts by acknowledging the facts and the guilt. That is the first step to ensuring nothing like this ever happens again in Canada.
just sayin
G
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