Tending our Gardens
Trigger Warning: Reference to Indian Residential Schools, abuse, murder, genocide
As we move from May to June, many of our gardens have been sowed and now it’s time to tend the seedlings, sprouts and shoots as they push up and blossom, and eventually bear fruit for our harvest. Spring shifting into summer is typically a time of flourishing, and yet, heavy on my mind and heart the past few days is the discovery of 215 children’s bodies, some as young as three years old, at the Kamloops Indian Residential School.
If you’re not aware, between the 1830s and 1996, the major Christian churches and the Canadian government, and before that the British Crown, mandated the removal of 150,000 indigenous children from their families and homes and placement in 139 boarding schools across the country, often in remote areas, in a government-enforced genocide to remove indigenous culture, language and practices from these children in an effort to “civilize” them. This was part of a larger goal of erasing and assimilating indigenous people and thereby erasing the responsibility of the government to deliver on Treaties, and instead gain access to land and resources traditionally held and managed by indigenous populations.
Seven generations of indigenous children experienced physical, emotional and sexual abuse, starvation, humiliation, disconnection from family, language, traditions and culture. It’s unknown exactly how many children died at these schools or while trying to return to their families, but estimates are in the range of 6000. Most deaths were undocumented by the schools, churches or government.
***If you’re a survivor and need emotional support, contact the 24-hr National Indian Residential School Crisis Line by calling 1-866-925-4419.
The lasting effects of this horrible public policy are systemic institutional racism throughout Canada, and intergenerational trauma in indigenous populations, with limited supports or funding to process the intense pain, grief, loss, abuse and ripple effects of this trauma.
The last residential school in Canada closed in 1996. I was in my third year of university that year.
That’s how recent this is.
It’s not ancient history. It’s prolonged, systemic killing, on all levels, of the first peoples (Inuit, Metis and First Nations) who were and are seen as less than settler and colonizer communities. Its impacts are real, raw and recent, and this new discovery re-opens wounds that have barely begun to heal.
It’s easy to get caught up in the feelings of outrage, sorrow and empathy for those mothers and fathers whose children were ripped away and never came home, or who came home changed, harmed and deeply scarred. I think it’s important to feel these feelings -- these big and difficult emotions -- so that we can see our indigenous neighbours, brothers and sisters as human, fully human...not a lower version of human. We need to imagine ourselves in their shoes and consider how we may have responded, coped, survived if this had been done to our families.
I talked about it with my daughter this morning, briefly. We imagined if every kid in her school went to school one day and didn’t come home. How would the parents feel? How would they make sense of it? How would they carry on as active members of society with that kind of grief, anger and pain? How would the kids feel? How would they make sense of what they were being told, what was being done to them, and why they couldn’t speak to their families or go home? It’s difficult to fathom, and yet, it happened, to people we know. It was an uncomfortable, difficult conversation, but one we are willing to have.
We can wear orange today and other days; we can put teddy bears on our doorsteps tonight in honour of those children’s lives; we can hug our own kids tighter and give thanks for our privileged lot in life. These symbolic gestures bring us together and create comfort.
And it’s not enough.
We can consider the future of this country as our collective garden, and all people as the shoots and seedlings and sprouts that need different levels of tending to flourish, and reach a bountiful harvest. Those 215 children, and the 150,000 others who attended residential schools, certainly did not receive the tending they needed or deserved. Their families didn’t receive the tending they needed or deserved, let alone the respect and compassion any human deserves.
I’m offering what I’ve found that we can do beyond feeling the feels, beyond lamenting the past. I certainly don’t have all the answers, but I feel obligated to share what I can in this moment.
Educate and re-educate ourselves, our kids and our friends about the full history of our country
Read the Truth and Reconciliation Commission report http://trc.ca/assets/pdf/Calls_to_Action_English2.pdf
Look for resources at the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation: https://nctr.ca/
Take a course to learn about indigenous history, culture and teachings. A popular option is this free course at the University of Alberta: https://www.ualberta.ca/admissions-programs/online-courses/indigenous-canada/index.html but search for something in your local community, too.
Access books for kids on this topic: https://bookcentre.ca/theme-guide-reconciliation
Other ways to take action, especially young people and young adults: https://oncanadaproject.ca/settlerstakeaction (a great list of additional resources on this page)
Examine your personal history in this country. How have you benefited from colonialism? What can you do to undo the harm that’s been done to indigenous communities?
If you’re part of one of the churches that was responsible for this abuse, neglect and murder, question the leadership about that role and what’s been done since to make reparations.
Support indigenous and especially survivor-supporting agencies who are doing the work to heal these communities
Donate to the residential school survivors in BC: https://www.irsss.ca/donate
Donate to your local indigenous support agencies. Reach out and ask how you can be of service.
Demand better from our governments
They are here to represent and support all our residents. Let’s hold them to account. Contact your local, provincial and federal representatives and ask what they are doing to enact reconciliation and ensure social, economic and cultural equity for our indigenous communities. Pressure them to hold all parties accountable for their actions, and fund the solutions required into the future.
My hopes for what comes next
I hope that the bodies of these 215 children are returned to their families in a respectful way so that appropriate ceremony may take place.
I hope that all residential school sites will be searched, all murdered children identified and returned to their families.
I hope that anyone still alive who played a role in this genocide is named, tried and serves time for these crimes.
I hope school curriculums across the country teach a fulsome history of this nation, pre- and post-Confederation.
I hope indigenous communities find deep and lasting healing.
I hope that, in the absence of anything better, Treaty rights are upheld to the highest intention possible, and that indigenous communities without Treaties continue to assert their rights, and have them met.
I hope that settler communities acknowledge their role in this country’s origins and past, and work to re-learn history to understand a more accurate representation, not just a white privileged settler viewpoint.
My big dreams for the future are that we find a way to integrate the best of indigenous governance with the best of parliamentary democratic governance to create a new, better way for all to live together in this shared land. I hope that we reconsider and redesign land ownership and taxation systems and practices to create a community-stewardship model where everyone has access to appropriate housing and food, livelihood, and to the natural resources of this land. My hope is that we listen to each other with respect and work together to create a better experience for all.
Again, I don’t know have all the answers, or how we get there, but I’m sharing a partially-formed vision for something better in the hope that it ignites positive change.
I guess this turned out to be less of a newsletter and more of a call to awareness and action. I’d love to know what you’re doing in this regard, or what resources or initiatives you’ve found helpful or supportive.
Let’s continue the conversation and tend this garden together so that we can all grow, blossom and harvest nourishment for ourselves and our communities.