Surviving the system

Sometimes journalism can do more harm than good. How can we talk about a subject without worsening the traumas of the people who confide in us and those who are concerned with our articles?

At La Converse, we understand that trauma-informed journalism requires time and sensitivity. This week, we bring you a report from Steve Bonspiel of The Eastern Door newspaper, which has been serving the Kahnawá:ke community since 1992.

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This article discusses the residential school system, a subject that can awaken memories of the traumas caused by past abuse. Support for survivors and their families is available. Call the Residential School Survivors Society crisis line 24/7 at 1-800-721-0066, 1-866-925-4419 for the 24/7 crisis line.

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‍Selina Tewentawenron and her elder sister Cecilia Etienne were kidnapped from their home by an Indian agent, that is, an officer employed by the Government of Canada to force the assimilation of Aboriginal people.

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They were taken by train to Shingwauk Boarding School (also known as Shingwauk Home) in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. At the time, Selina was 6 and Cecilia was 10 or 11.

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Although she left boarding school over seven decades ago, Selina, an elder from Kanesatake, did not want to reveal the name of the Indian agent who kidnapped her.

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“I don't like to name Rahetien because he has a family. I don't want to upset them or hurt his family,” she said. Brenda, her daughter, confirms it. “She doesn't want to name the agent who filled out all the paperwork for her and her sister and threw them on a train at Windsor station,” she said. “If it were me, it would be a different story.”

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Selina spent 10 years there. She never went home during this time because her parents could not pay for her return ticket. She remembers the train trip, during which, with no money and no ability to speak English, she was so hungry and, of course, so frightened. It was only when she and her sister went to Blind River, Ontario, several hours from Montreal, several hours from Montreal and just before the final part of the trip, that a non-native couple boarding the train fed them. They were left to their own devices, taken to an unknown destination, hearing a foreign language.

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“Mom kept telling me that every time she heard the train crossing the river — which happens a lot — it reminded her of being thrown on a train and not coming home for 10 years,” says Brenda. When she heard the news of the discovery of the remains of 215 children from the Kamloops Indian Residential School, Selina cried. “I felt bad and felt sorry,” she says. “There were a lot of thoughts that came to my mind, and most of them were about me,” she says of these thoughts, which she does not want to share publicly.

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“When I'm alone, it makes me cry. Even though I think I was lucky, nothing really happened to me. Nothing we can talk about. I was too young anyway,” says Selina. The woman, who will turn 89 in July, shares her experience, as does her daughter Brenda, who is translating Kanien'kéha into English. This part of his story is, in itself, a story of triumph.

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Lose and re-learn

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When she arrived in Shingwauk, Selina did not speak English. She said she had problems when she spoke her language, without saying more. She was immediately separated from her sister Cecilia. Some students had set up a system in which the older ones protected the younger ones, sometimes from the other children as well. Within four years, Selina was able to learn functional English by reading books, listening to other students, and paying attention to what the clergy said. Hunger and isolation were common.

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“We couldn't go anywhere and we did what we were told to do,” says the 80-year-old. She feels lucky to have others to help her along the way, including a number of students from Kanesatake. One student in particular, Morris Bonspille, arrived at Shingwauk boarding school a few weeks after her. “He was always worried about me. He was on the boys' side and I was on the girls' side, but he thought of me as a sister, recalls Seline. He was a very good friend.” Mr. Bonspille passed away in 2007.

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Once she mastered English, Seline stopped speaking her language. She was put on the back burner, went dormant. “When she came back she couldn't talk to anyone. She didn't know any kanien'kéha, she couldn't even communicate with her mother,” says her daughter. “I couldn't explain myself or do what I needed to do,” says Selina. She had to recover the language from the young people she started to meet.

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“She relearned it, which is an incredible story in itself,” says Brenda. Subsequently, Selina became an elementary school teacher in the language she fought so hard for. In particular, she remembers two girls who ran away. She doesn't know what became of them. “Teens used to go to parties,” she says. They were traveling not far away to the Ojibway community of Garden River, known to hockey fans as the hometown of former NHL player and head coach Ted Nolan.

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Those who tried to escape the monotony, confinement, and abuse of boarding school by attending a rally or running away took a great risk. If they were caught, they were punished. “When they ran away, the RCMP caught them, brought them back, and cut their hair as punishment. They were also beaten with belts,” says Selina. Lily Nicholas is one of the Kanehsata'kehró:no who never returned home. “She was buried there,” Selina recalls. She died of pneumonia.” “At least that's what they told you,” adds her daughter. Mary Oke also died at the Shingwauk boarding school, although it is not known exactly what happened. His body was brought back and buried in Kanesatake.

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Despite the difficult life in Shingwauk, Selina returned there in 1991 with her daughter for a reunion. “I brought my mom up there because it was important to her. She wanted one last visit,” says Brenda. “I was so proud of my mom and the respect she had for her classmates. A lot of them told me that mom helped them with the transition. It taught them how to survive in this system.”