Now, over thirty years after the last school closed, the survivors are speaking out. In turn, they ask that we listen.
The impact of the Residential schools in Canada on First Nations people should never be underestimated. Generations of Aboriginal People were and continue to be negatively affected by their experiences in Residential schools from sea to sea to sea. For many years, it was taboo to speak about the terrible impact of the schools on the students and on the families of the students who were forced to attend them -- schools which were little more than industrial institutions created and sanctioned by the Government of Canada and the churches of Canada -- Catholic, Anglican and United.
Today, the survivors of Canada's residential schools are no longer silent -- instead they are on a path to healing, but before the healing begins, they must speak out about what they lost. Forced Assimilation meant:
On a sunny early spring afternoon in 2007, a large crowd gathers in Dawson City on the banks of the Yukon River in the Traditional Territory of the Tr' ondek Hwech'in. People chat quietly, but the it is a subdued audience that waits for the ceremony to begin; their eyes glued on the outdoor stage where a large banner reads:
The crowd is composed of members of the Tr'ondek Hwech'in , other First Nations bands from the Yukon and townspeople -- all invited to witness a very special occasion -- to acknowledge and support the survivors of the Residential Schools in Canada, and to welcome them back into the community.
As the dignitaries gather on stage, the crowd falls silent. Introductions are made: among the visiting dignitaries are the Grand Chief of the Yukon Council of First Nations and Chief Daren Taylor of the Tr'ondek Hwech'in First Nations. After a welcoming prayer, those in the audience are warned that the exhibit to follow; The Scrapbook Project -- may "trigger past trauma."
The exhibit tells in grainy black and white photos and commentary the heart-breaking, inhumane story of a national institution dedicated to the destruction of a people and of their culture. Genocide, some call it. To others, this is to strong a word. All, though, can agree that what happened in those stark, cold schools destroyed and continues to destroy many lives. Canada's First Nations want the destruction to end.
For too many years, the victims of Residential Schools have been ignored, but now they are speaking out about their experiences in a courageous attempt to end the silence and the secrecy and the shame that is their legacy.
As the ceremony progresses, the audience holds hands and forms a large circle -- it is massive, inter-racial and interdenominational and cannot be contained in a small area. Inside the circle, the survivors -- men and women and their children form a circle facing the outer circle. They appear vulnerable and brave. In the outer circle, people begin to sniffle and tears flow. As each survivor is presented a gift and led away, the outer circle breaks hands and welcomes them in -- back to the community. The promise of support is unspoken yet loud.
Ceremonies similar to this one are being held all across Canada. The survivors are no longer keeping silent about the crime committed against them, nor do they want to continue to feel the shadow of those days darkening their paths. As one women explained, "I am here because I want to move forward, but I don't want to forget. I just want to acknowledge what happened to my family and make sure it never happens again. Only then can I begin to heal."
To find out more about The Legacy of The Residential Schools, visit The Aboriginal Healing Foundation.