When I watched the news reports of the Truth and Reconciliation process this week and they showed the young children in the residential schools, I imagined my sons there. They were once sweet-faced children, the same as those children. I tried to imagine being at my home and having someone in a position of authority coming to our door and taking my sons away from me.
Taking them out of my arms, my sons crying, myself crying, screaming in pain and confusion. Why, where will they go, when will I see them? The arrogance of such a horrible action.
I try to imagine what my pain would have been like knowing that my young sons were with strangers, mean ones at that. Who in an act of kindness removes children from their homes for the reasons the indigenous children of this country were removed? The grief and pain that the parents would feel makes my stomach ache trying to imagine it, and all I am doing is imagining, I’m not living it. The ache, the emptiness, the confusion, anger that you would feel towards the church and to the government. The hypocrisy of this situation of those actions, the abuse, and then the gall of sitting in judgement of the lives of others. In my mind, the pain would be unbearable.
Then in my imagination I go to where my young sons are lying in bed at night wondering, did someone tell them a story, tuck them in, is someone there if they get scared, are they together to comfort each other? Have they been fed, are they safe? Where are they? When will I hold them again? They must miss me so much and be so confused and scared.
There were people watching these aboriginal children at night, and not in a loving way but in a horrific abusive way, sexually abusing or beating the young boys and girls. And this was done to generations of children and their families. The government and churches involved destroyed the family process of generations learning from generations, how to be in a family, develop and strengthen relationships, nurture, care for each other, learn to parent and to be a child.
We must understand the horrific impact of the residential schools so that we can understand and move forward.
I am always amazed by the strength of the human spirit and what people can live through and survive. What we want now is for people to thrive.
I wish that on Friday’s news I had heard that the Department of Aboriginal and Northern Development had overspent their budget and that schools, health centres, water treatment facilities, social services were in place in communities in need of these. Instead this government underspent in the last five years by $1 billion, an amount that was more than enough to solve real problems. The need for dollars for some indigenous communities is so great. Being invited to the table to negotiate and knowing the dollars were there is important; not being informed there is money on the table is extremely disappointing. I also was dismayed by the arrogance of that minister who sat with that grim expression while the room stood and applauded the speakers at the ceremony. Can we please try to move forward and get the right people into these positions who will make a difference, not people who would obviously rather be somewhere else.
Locally, I hope that the Kal Lake trail (which I selfishly hope becomes a walking and biking trail) can be developed as communities fully integrating our communities with the local First Nations communities in the planning and development of that parkway. I know there are more complicating concerns at stake.
Canada is our country — let’s make our future better, together.
Michele Blais has worked with families and children in the North Okanagan for the past 29 years. She is a longtime columnist for The Morning Star, writing on a variety of topics and appearing every other Sunday.
