The wound of July 1: between mourning and healing
It's July 1st, and a crowd of people are gathering around the Georges-Étienne Cartier Monument in solidarity with Canada's Indigenous peoples. Since the remains of at least 1,505 children were found on the site of former boarding schools, voices have been raised to cancel Canada Day. Thousands of Indigenous and non-Indigenous people march through the streets of Montreal in solidarity with the victims and survivors of residential schools. The color of this July 1st is not white or red, but orange.
The atmosphere, heavy with mourning and anger, is not at all like the usual festivities on July 1. “Why are we in orange today? We are in the process of lighting the sacred fire that is in each of us,” said Kevin Deer, the spiritual leader of Kahnawake in his opening speech.
Several speakers address their words to non-native people: “If you don't have the courage that we are asked to have every day, every second to have, we're going to go nowhere,” says the Inuit singer Elisapie Isaac. “We're going to go nowhere if we don't feel that you too have the courage to open your eyes, your ears and start to become aware of yourself. It would give us a huge break! ”. Many of the aboriginal people present are tired of always having to put forward their claims.
The July 1st march is an opportunity for them to alleviate a
Little the weight of trauma. “Leave us alone, stop asking us questions,” some members of Aboriginal communities told us. Many also expressed concerns about media coverage of the march on social media a few hours before the event. Since the news of the Kamloops boarding school, communities across the country have been oversolicited by the media. For many of them, these interviews are difficult, even traumatic, emotional work.
It was not the time to ask questions, but rather to take a step back and listen.
Ocean Lewis, an Ojibwe student at McGill, gives the last testimony of the day in front of a sacred fire lit under the former location of the John A. MacDonald statue. In front of the largest audience she has ever had, the young woman from Tkaronto, a city also known as Toronto, emotionally shares her story of abuse in the education system. The 18-year-old student of history, psychology and indigenous studies received several drum cheers during her speech. Today she is sharing her story with us.
“I hadn't felt aboriginal in seven years. But one day, I put on my traditional clothes and danced with my drum by myself in my room. What I felt at that moment was indescribable.”
You can imagine that today was an extremely emotionally trying day. I really appreciate that you are willing to share your story with me.
I'm up for interviews, even though it was a tiring day. I always see people celebrating Canada Day and that motivates me to speak up. I am also extremely disappointed with the way the mainstream media covered today's event. Several tried to film, even though it was clearly stated not to. For many who spoke out today, it was a day of collective mourning.
You are a third-generation residential school survivor. Your father is indigenous, and your mother is Punjabi. How were these topics addressed in your family?
My family has intergenerational trauma. My dad is not in a position to have these conversations. He has a lot of identity issues and spiritual confusion because of his experiences in day schools and Catholic churches. I would have liked to have had detailed conversations with him. He has mental health issues of his own. I respect and love him a lot.
My grandfather went to war to defend Canada. My great-grandparents met in residential schools and they freed themselves to become Canadian citizens. They had to give up everything: their indigenous status, their land, their land rights. They could no longer return to their homes on the reserve. I want to educate people about postage issues, like the one my family went through.
My grandmother was my only real connection to our family line, before she passed away several years ago. In speaking out today, I really wanted to honor my dad, my grandmother, and everyone who helped me reconnect with who I was. I talked about my experiences of abuse by white non-native people who want to control our space and play the saviors. And that is unacceptable because it has a lasting impact. My mother did not deal with these topics in the most sensitive way, she never really understood our struggles.
She has identity issues of her own. She was born in Kuwait, far from her country, and she had to overcome prejudices against Punjabi women to become a lawyer. Like her, I internalized the desire to be white. But as I got older, I realized that it didn't work.
You said in your testimony today that this is the first time in seven years that you feel fully Aboriginal. What happened during this time?
I felt fully aboriginal at the time when I went to aboriginal school. I was learning my culture and my language every day. I was playing the drum and singing. Even though I was intimidated, I felt that these people were my family. I left my native school and thought that I was the villain, the traitor. It affected me for years. I hated being Native for a long time. I had a deep hate for the person I was younger. I didn't sing or dance for six years.
Now that I am older, I understand that I am proudly Aboriginal and that no non-native person can decide how much I love my culture. The mentality of good Aboriginal people and bad Aboriginal people comes from colonization. It was used in boarding schools and in the Sixties Scoop. Native people were divided by this colonial binarity. It's so hard to feel that my lifestyle is not colonial. The Ojibwe language is not even on Google Translate! There are no indigenous languages on Google, so it's really hard for me to reconnect with my culture without a community. It's a deep wound. But in Montreal, I found a great diversity of aboriginal people — Inuit, Cree, Algonquin, Mohawk. I really hope it will give me a second chance to reconnect with my culture, because I deserve it. My family line deserves to be healed.
As a child, I was a victim of abuse at the hands of a white teacher who tried to infiltrate our community. My attacker was a white British teacher who had joined the school 20 years earlier and stayed there. The community adopted him, he had a huge influence on very young students. It has hampered our attempts to revitalize and reconnect with our culture. He thought he could contribute with his British military manners, but that was not what was needed.
My abuser used my culture against me and used our teachings against me. He accused me of lying and told me that I was a threat to society because I didn't want to comply. I was a traumatized child, I had problems at home, and I was very sensitive. He exploited these traits against me. If I made a mistake, he took it very personally. This man spoke the language, he led the boy's drum groups. He had a big role in the ceremonies, he held the sacred feathers, he talked about our cultural teachings. I understand that we sometimes adopt people into our communities and that we may desperately want allies, but we must carefully examine the non-native people who join us. There should be background checks in schools. For years, I thought I was the only one. When I heard the testimonies of my attacker's current students, I cried. I hope that there will be justice.
He came into the community at a time when it was very vulnerable. Unfortunately, its influence has hurt a lot of people. The people who bullied me were very close to him. I can't even blame them. Its influence on them was harmful and profound. His misogyny and other ways of thinking were so horrible. My attacker asked a lot of people to avoid me. He turned his students against me. I hope that they will be able to begin their own healing now that he has been unmasked.
How has reconnecting with the Aboriginal community in Montreal been beneficial for you?
It was very therapeutic. In my testimony, I talked a lot about how I feel like a guest in my own home when I drum, sing, dance, shout, and speak my language. It is my fear as a child, with its feelings of guilt and shame, that tells me that I do not deserve it, that I am a bad aboriginal person. It is very therapeutic to see that even after all these years, there are aboriginal people who know my history and who still welcome me with open arms.
Being able to dance in my traditional clothes, to play the drum, to sing made me feel that the link that was broken several years ago is being rebuilt. There was so much unconditional love and support today. I was moved to see thousands of people come together because our lives are always at risk. Even though I had some negative experiences in Montreal, moving gave me a new perspective. It woke me up to all the internalized hate and fear that I had in me.
I learned today that I can use my voice to make a positive change and fight my inner demons.
What have you done to take care of yourself and heal since the news about boarding schools came out?
My abuse case took up a lot of my time during the month of June. I could not do anything for a week: I hardly ate, I did not leave my house. It was very hard. I heard that my attacker was being investigated and that relieved me of a heavy burden. Recently, I started a new job with Squash Canada. Growing up as a professional athlete, my work is now focused on diversity and inclusion in squash. I work with people of color, people with disabilities, newcomers.
The aim is to promote sport and well-being among these populations. I love this sport, I love the community that plays it, even if they have their problems. Part of my job is researching Canada's reserves and determining how far away they are from sports fields and gyms. Many communities are very remote and suffer from major funding and awareness problems. I would not have accepted this position if my colleagues were not determined to educate themselves. I had to talk to them because there were things they didn't understand.
While I would have liked to work in the Aboriginal community, it was not possible. My current job as an ambassador for diversity and inclusion is a chance for me to show non-native people that these issues are really important. It's not about opinions, it's about the story and the situation we're currently facing. If they want me to work for them, they should let me claim these issues.
I participate in a lot of events. I recently did some against the Trans Mountain pipeline. I am an activist for the McGill Indigenous Student Alliance, McGill Climate Justice, and my own racial justice group. This summer, I plan to continue my employment, activism, and volunteering.
During the school year, I question university policies. Right now, the places where I have the most opportunity to make a difference are the worlds of education and sport.
How do you plan to use your place in the education system and the world of sport to heal the indigenous community that you are a part of?
I grew up between two cultures. On the one hand, I went to an Aboriginal school that focused on revitalization, traditions, cultural ceremonies, and land reclamation. On the other hand, I grew up in a colonial and modern world. I've spent my life balancing the two and holding them accountable when they make mistakes. There is a lot of division in communities and internalized colonialism due to trauma. I can feel it in the education system.
Where the two worlds meet, there is universal knowledge. There is a big prejudice that favors European knowledge. And even though I love to learn and speak English, indigenous people have been excluded from this knowledge for a long time. I remember taking a class on genocide in high school and asked the teacher why the genocide of indigenous peoples was not being taught.
We talked about the Holocaust, the Armenian Genocide, the Rwandan Genocide, but not the Indigenous Genocide. I hope that the children found today wake people up to the fact that the extermination of indigenous peoples was deliberate. The education system has been used against us.
We really need to rebuild our education system, because education is for everyone and needs to be diversified.
What are the solutions to this legacy of colonization against Indigenous peoples, and how do you see yourself moving forward?
The Land Back movement is widespread across the country. Even though many people think we're just going to take everything, that's not really the aim. Rather, it is a movement in which we affirm the place we have always had here. Non-native people need to understand that loving Canada as a country hurts us. This country has problems of genocide, colonization, racism, racism, white supremacy, and patriarchy that need to be addressed.
I think that the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada and the Murders and Disappearances of Indigenous Women movement are indispensable. We need to talk about it during work meetings. We must have mandatory anti-racist modules for all students. All Canadians should read the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and donate money to the Indian Residential School Survivors Society to give us visibility.
Many Aboriginal people feel alienated. We don't know where our place in society is. We don't have sovereignty. We don't control our own representation in the media and in the education system. Our stories are being ignored in North America.
We need to be refocused and be at the decision-making table in the House of Commons, in Parliament, in the school boards. We need to be promoted within these institutions and not just consulted. Because that's how treaties and residential schools were created — with lies, deception, lack of respect, lack of consultation, and language barriers. This power imbalance is not an opinion because there is too much evidence. We are owed repairs and the only way they can be done is by holding the institutions of our society accountable.
We need to dismantle racist systems in education, the world of sport, the world of business. My story — changing schools, being a third-generation residential school survivor, feeling lost — is proof that these systems are hurting.
What motivates you to share your story today?
I had a hard time dealing with the news from all these children. Since June, I have been busy with my own abuse case. It happened at the same time as the residential school news, so I was emotionally overloaded. I was traumatized and blamed myself for my traumas. A major trauma for me was being rejected by my community as a result of the abuse I experienced.
I want to take advantage of my move to Montreal to have the opportunity to reconnect with my community. And I am relieved to see how different organizations and individuals stand together.
When I went to a security guard for the children a month ago, I did not find the strength to speak up. But since then, a lot has happened and I felt the need to say something because I was tired of doubting myself.