The thought stuck there for a while, after reading about the outrage worldwide over reports of U.S. customs separating migrant families caught illegally crossing the border and locking up kids, away from their parents.
Where had I heard that before? Oh, yeah – here.
Ripping kids from the arms of their parents is a long Canadian tradition that went on for about 100 years, for generation after generation, when residential schools were operating and indigenous families were forced to send their school-age kids to far away institutions to turn them into white people.
The trauma and horror of having your offspring kidnapped, under force of the law, and sent to abusive institutions is searing.
Since the 1880s until 1986, through residential schools and the ‘Sixties Scoop’ of forced apprehensions by child welfare authorities, we’ve been separating children from their parents, traumatizing thousands and creating multi-generational, enduring injury that effects all of us today, as we celebrate Canada’s 151st birthday.
One could say, it’s all in the past and not our concern. It’s not.
Today, proportionally, far more indigenous people have far higher incarceration rates when compared to the rest of the population. That’s a present-day legacy of residential schools. That’s everyone’s concern.
Stats Can says that in 2016-17, aboriginal adults made up 27 per cent of the federal prison population, while comprising only five per cent of the general population. That’s even worse than a decade ago, when the rate was only 19 per cent.
In Manitoba and Saskatchewan, it’s even worse — three quarters of the prison population is aboriginal, although those provinces have a higher proportion of aboriginal or indigenous people in the general population.
Tackling this topic, I realized the depths of my ignorance. This has been part of our country for more than a century, yet I don’t even know the basics. It barely rises in the collective national consciousness, which allows us to maintain our Canadian smugness to look down on countries facing the same issues.
How do we live in a country where it’s OK that part of the population constantly lacks the opportunity the rest of us have?
I don’t remember any indigenous kids from school, so effective was the apartheid system we had in place. Even our ever-changing nomenclature – aboriginal, indigenous, First Nations, native – shows we still don’t know to address this issue.
Canada’s Indian residential school system didn’t require discriminatory laws and prohibitions, or concentration camps. It just took their kids, for generations, and destroyed the parental bonds, creating decades-long damage.
But we just don’t see it. For instance, the pretty riverfront townhouses at the south end of Bonson Road in Pitt Meadows are located in a nicely landscaped setting, with winding paths for strolls along the river.
Ten paces on the other side of the road is the Katzie First Nations reserve, with no sidewalks and, until recently, no new buildings.
The discrepancy became apparent during the flood watch this past spring, when the Katzie reserve was the only community that didn’t have a dike separating it from the rising Fraser River.
Who knew? Maybe it’s time the community got a dike, like all the others.
What was heartening was the outpouring of support shown for the Katzie during the flood threat. That should carry on all year and spread across the country.
Instead of sojourns around the world to provide clean water to tropical villages, let’s provide clean water to and build schools on needy reserves across Canada. There are many.
I know things are changing, thanks to our excellent education system. Awareness is growing, through films such as Indian Horse, co-produced by Clint Eastwood. This movie needs to be shown in every class at all education levels across the country.
The movie’s website includes a telling quote from former Bloc Quebecois leader Gilles Duceppe:
“For those who cannot imagine the impact that residential schools had on aboriginal peoples, picture a small village, a small community. Now picture all of its children, gone. No more children between seven and 16 playing in the lanes or the woods, filling the hearts of their elders with their laughter and joy. Imagine the ever-present fear of watching their children disappear when they reached school age.”
All we need to do is open our eyes.
– Phil Melnychuk is a journalist with the Maple Ridge-Pitt Meadows News.
