The Sturgeon Lake Journey Toward Empowerment

THE STURGEON LAKE JOURNEY TOWARD EMPOWERMENT
THE PEOPLE OF STURGEON LAKE
Accompanied by
Jean Lafrance Ph.D

The Sturgeon Lake Journey Toward Empowerment
Copyright@2008 Jean Lafrance
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Production of The Sturgeon Lake Journey Toward Empowerment has been made possible
by the Aboriginal Healing Foundation and funding from the Public Health Agency of
Canada. The views expressed herein do not necessarily represent the views of the
Aboriginal Healing Foundation or the Public Health Agency of Canada. Every reasonable
effort has been made to secure necessary permissions, but errors or omissions should be
brought to the attention of Jean Lafrance at jl3@ualberta.ca
Suggested Citation
Lafrance, (2008). The Sturgeon Lake Journey Toward Empowerment. Published by

Jean Lafrance. First Printing - March 2008.
Availability of the Book
The Sturgeon Lake Journey Toward Empowerment may be purchased in hard copy for
$35.00 from the author at jl3@ualberta.ca. A PDF copy is available upon request by the
author at no cost.
ISBN 978-0-9783147-0-5
The Sturgeon Lake Journey Toward Empowerment
The People of Sturgeon Lake
Accompanied by
Jean Lafrance
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the people of Sturgeon Lake without whom it would not have been
possible. They have launched me upon my own spiritual journey – one that I hope will continue
to share into the future.
A special thanks to my wonderful wife, Marie-Anna, who has shared my journey for so many
years. I am truly fortunate to have you as my source of support, love and companionship. You
are my rock!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am grateful to the people of Sturgeon Lake who so generously shared their feelings and
experiences about a difficult time of their lives that still lives in their hearts and in their
memories. It is difficult to single out individuals who have made such a contribution to this
work. It is clear to me to me that none of this would have been possible without David Nabew,
who has been a constant source of strength for the community, and without whose vision none of
this would have been possible. David has become more than a colleague. He is a true friend and
my brother. To the other members of the Journey Toward Empowerment team, Alvina Nabew,
Leroy Hamelin and Hilda Goodswimmer – kudos for dedication and persistence in your mission!
I must also acknowledge Margaret and Mary Kappo who first introduced me to Sturgeon Lake
over 10 years ago. I will always be grateful for your kindness and continuing friendship. I
consider Mary to be my second mother and she is precious to me. Colleen Mustus came at a
crucial time to replace Margaret as Project Director, and held the fort until David came on board.
The have been so many others who have contributed to this journey toward empowerment, which
has now become my journey, that I dare not try to mention all your names. You know who you
are. I was told when I first came to Sturgeon Lake that this was a community that welcomed
strangers. I have cried about some of your stories, marveled at your courage in the face of
adversity, laughed with you and enjoyed your music and dances. Always I felt accepted and
appreciated by your strong and resilient community. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of
your journey. I have never felt like a stranger and am a better person for having shared your
warmth and your friendship.
Jean
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PROLOGUE ……………………………………………………………………………... i
INTRODUCTION ………………………………………………………………………… 1
HISTORICAL BACKGROUND ………………………………………………………… 5
PREVAILING STANDARDS AND RESIDENTIAL SCHOOLS ………………………. 17
SURVIVORS ……………………………………………………………………………... 61
THE STURGEON LAKE COMMUNITY AND THE CHILD WELFARE SYSTEM ….. 63
RECOLLECTIONS ……………………………………………………………………… 67
SHARING CIRCLES …………………………………………………………………….. 77
LOVE SOUP ……………………………………………………………………………... 97
A NEW VISION TAKES SHAPE ……………………………………………………….. 99
FIRST NATIONS’ I.R.S. …………………………………………………………………. 107
FLO’S STORY ……………………………………………………………………………. 113
ANOTHER SHARING CIRCLE ………………………………………………………… 125
THE IMPACT OF RESIDENTIAL SCHOOLS ON FAMILIES ……………………...…. 133
THE RESIDENTIAL SCHOOL COURSE – A JOINT EFFORT ……………………….. 145
WHAT IS GOOD ABOUT STURGEON LAKE? ……………………………………….. 149
VISIONING THE FUTURE …………………………………………………………….. 161
YOUTH PERSPECTIVES ………………………………………………………………... 171
STORIES OF HOPE ……………………………………………………………………… 179
TOWARDS HEALING AND RECONCILIATION …………………………………….. 189
IMPLICATIONS FOR THE FUTURE …………………………………………………... 193
REFERENCES …………………………………………………………………………….. 213
FOOTNOTES ……………………………………………………………………………… 219

PROLOGUE i
PROLOGUE
David Nabew
Director – Sturgeon Lake Journey toward Empowerment
“There’s a lot going on here”
And as they were walking, there was nothing in this field but two trees, a big tree and a little tree.
All of a sudden the old lady stopped and said “There’s a lot happening here.” The boy looked
around and said “What do you mean?” The old lady said, “There’s a lot happening here.” With
that, the old lady turned around and started walking away and as she was walking away, she told
the boy, “You stay here and don’t come home until you can tell me what is happening here.”
With that, she left the little boy standing in the field. The boy looked around, he couldn’t see
what his grandmother had seen or what was happening, and every time he would look, the only
thing that he would see was the big tree and the little tree. Finally, it was getting dark, well
starting to get dark and just before it was full dark he came walking into the house and said to his
grandmother, he said “You know grandma,” he said, “you’re right, there’s a lot happening there.”
ii THE STURGEON LAKE JOURNEY TOWARD EMPOWERMENT
He said “When I first looked, I couldn’t see what was happening. I would look around and the
only thing I could see was the trees and I started to look at the trees and then I started to see what
was happening. You see,” he said, “what I saw was that the big tree was protecting the little tree
when the big winds came, the big tree would protect the little tree with its huge branches so that
the tree doesn’t get blown down. And when the rains and the snows come, the big tree would
hang onto the little trees roots so that the little tree doesn’t get swept away. But that’s not all I
saw, grandma,” he said, “as the young tree gets older, the big tree also becomes older and as the
young tree started to branch out its nice strong branches will take care of the older tree when the
big winds come, the little tree’s strong branches will hold onto the old tree’s so that it doesn’t get
blown over when the rains and the snows come. His young strong branches would protect the
older tree.” But he said, “That’s not all I saw grandmother.”
He said, “When it was time for the old tree to come to its final rest on the ground, the big strong
branches of the young tree bent down into the ground. He said, “But that’s not all I saw
grandmother. As the old tree lay on the ground, new life began to sprout from the old tree. Little
trees started sprouting from where she lay so she could fertilize the young trees so that they
would grow.”
And, he said, “You were right grandmother, there’s a lot happening there.”
PROLOGUE iii
The Sturgeon Lake Journey Team
Leroy Hamelin – Hilda Goodswimmer – Alvina Nabew – David Nabew

iv THE STURGEON LAKE JOURNEY TOWARD EMPOWERMENT
INTRODUCTION 1
INTRODUCTION
This book is the culmination of a long-range plan to publish the experiences of the survivors of
residential schools and child welfare systems and their descendants. In addition a film entitled
the Sturgeon Lake Journey Toward Empowerment has been produced whose ultimate purpose is
to serve as a rallying point for the community by mirroring their reality for themselves and as a
vehicle for the achievement of a greater spirit of reconciliation between Aboriginal people and
mainstream society.
The Sturgeon Lake Journey toward Empowerment continues, and while we have many plans, it is
ultimately difficult to anticipate all of the potential outcomes that can evolve. Like all journeys, it
is subject to detours, potential roadblocks, and the creation of new avenues and roadways; the
blazing of new trails by courageous adventurers who do not fear facing the unknown.
The Sturgeon Lake Journey was intended to create a clearer and more community based vision of
the kind of healthy community desired by the Sturgeon Lake Cree Nation. The core of this vision
was rooted in the stories of the people in this community related to their contact with oppressive
systems such as the Residential Schools and Child Welfare historically and currently. Therefore,
one of the necessary activities was to hear and to collect these stories. We were convinced that
by following this oral tradition, consistent with the culture, community members who, in the
depths of their soul, did not feel secure as a result of negative experiences with oppressive
structures could begin to heal. By recounting their stories, they could reflect upon our earlier
experiences from the perspective of adults who now have a greater awareness and greater power,
and therefore deal with these realities in a more purposeful way.
This book is the culmination of a community process that has been underway for the past several
years. The following highlights some important dimensions of this experience:
• Participants have found a safe place where they feel they belong and where they feel free to tell their
stories.
• Participants have come to realize that they all have important gifts to share.
• Participants have become increasingly empowered to assume responsibility for their own lives.
• Participants have come to realize that they can improve their lives and those of their families by
making better choices.
• Participants have combined vision with action in a desire to move ahead in the improvement of life in
their community.
2 THE STURGEON LAKE JOURNEY TOWARD EMPOWERMENT
The people have begun to break the silence regarding the impact of residential school experiences
on the Sturgeon Lake community. They have begun to address the inter-generational effects that
are believed to have interfered with the physical, emotional, mental and spiritual life of
community members. A spirit of reconciliation between community members is beginning to
replace forms of lateral violence that result from the legacy of physical, sexual, emotional and
spiritual abuse left by the residential school experience.
We believe that the community has an innate wisdom that can be tapped. In an atmosphere of
trust, each member can be helped to feel valued for the special gifts that they have been given.
A core group of community counselors have been able to share their experience of healing with
others who have had similar experiences.
By building upon these unique gifts, the community has begun to tap the deep wellsprings of its
own resources and strengths. We hope that this will help the community to not only create new
knowledge, but to build on ‘old’ knowledge in creating a new understanding. Thus, we could
begin to develop a collective community consciousness of what needed to happen if the total
community was to heal. We encouraged the full acceptance of each member for who they are and
tried to promote a feeling of belonging and safety for all of the participants. Each individual was
viewed as an integral part of a holistic dynamic that collectively represented a community wide
support network.
This Project was aimed at all of the members of the Sturgeon Lake Community, most of who
have been affected in one way or another by the Residential School experience. As the living
bridge between heaven and earth, our participants have had an opportunity to reflect upon the
seven generations past and to prepare a better life for the seven generations to come. Over time,
this initiative has been reaching out to other groups who share a similar journey and this is also
described as one effort connects with another in often unanticipated ways.
I have had the privilege of accompanying the Sturgeon Lake community on its Journey toward
Empowerment since 1997 when as the Children’s Advocate for Alberta I sought to provide new
opportunities for community members to support their children and be directly involved in child
welfare policy development and implementation. I was especially interested in finding new ways
to collaborate with First Nation’s communities that were reluctant to engage with a provincial
office associated with a system that had had such devastating consequences for their families.
This journey has taken some unanticipated directions as the community pursued a path without a
INTRODUCTION 3
roadmap, one that required keeping an eye on where we had been, while ensuring that we be alert
to sudden turns or unexpected precipices as we felt our way toward a new vision for the
community. This book chronicles some of the key events that have occurred to date and their
outcomes, and as well as some of our planned activities for the future.
My role with the community has mostly been of a supportive and consultative nature, and
community leaders have been very clear about our relationship. As Martha Cooper said in the
beginning, “Jean, you are a part of our community and you are welcome to drive the bus once in
a while, but let’s be clear that we will be the ones to tell you when you can drive the bus, where
you must turn, and where you can get off.” I cannot think of a more apt metaphor to describe a
balanced relationship between an academic and a truly empowered community.
Margaret Kappo was the first project coordinator for the newly forming “Journey toward
Empowerment.” The following excerpts illustrate our first tentative steps and the foundation for
future work. Margaret chaired the meetings in a way that called forth the best of each person’s
contribution. She began each meeting with a prayer and kept the group focused on “Telling Our
Stories.” It was agreed that participants could talk about whatever they wished. All agreed to
tape-recording the stories and I would return the typed transcripts of the stories for validation at
the following gathering. The community was remarkable in truly welcoming strangers. These
included foster parents, child welfare practitioners, policy makers, political leaders, elders and
youth. All were made to feel part of the sharing circles.
Margaret summed up one sharing circle by describing how people spoke about how child welfare
was operating today, as the people wanted to help some of the children, especially those who had
been away in care and those who had never lived in Sturgeon Lake, so they could be given some
of the information that the circles were gathering. We had touched on historical recollections
about such matters as the location of early mission buildings and how the community looked after
its children before the child welfare [system] came in and the residential schools were created.
She read a bit of where we left off at the last gathering.
I wanted to tell you that one of the foster parents that came last time was very impacted by the
whole thing because he really learned what happened and about the people’s experiences in such
a deep way. So people were talking about some of the not so good stuff. That happens you
know. But it actually wasn’t all bad stuff either, we were able to say factual stuff and stuff that
was not good and some that was okay. I ended it by asking everyone in the group to give me one
positive thing to describe the experience.
She quotes me as saying:
“I’m left with many impressions . . . sadness, shame. The thing that strikes me the most of this is
courage. The courage of people who lived life on life’s terms through so much and I guess it
makes me think about some of the ancient Indian legends I’ve heard about, about the prophecies
of Indian people having to undergo a lot of pain, and a lot of humiliation, and difficult times but
that in the end somehow they would be the ones who turned around and became the leaders in
society as people who had learned so much from that experience. That’s what I see is happening.
You were talking about the whole human experience. It seems to me that this is the basis of what
you have been doing in the last year. The courage you show in even talking about all the
experiences and your willingness to share them, I feel privileged to be here. I consider this a gift
that you have given me. I like hearing the stories, and although in a way I feel a sense of guilt
and shame, when I see what you are doing I just marvel. You are not the ones who should feel
guilty, you should feel pride in the fact that you survived all these things and you’re here to talk
about it. I hear you say ‘I want to move on and I want to do something to help my people move
on’.
I think this is really a marvelous thing.”
This journey began with an examination of the child welfare system from the perspective of the
people of Sturgeon Lake and, for reasons that I did not understand at the time, shifted to
conversations about the residential schools. It became clear the child welfare system is repeating
the experiences of the residential schools, by condemning many Aboriginal children to care away
from their communities, and ultimately contributing to the loss of their identity as members of a
proud race, the loss of their language, their culture and traditions, and ultimately the knowledge
of who they are. The lessons that this community has shared with us will be of little use if they
fail to inform what we do today. Our ‘Journey’ has broadened and now connects with initiatives
in other parts of the province, with other prairie provinces, with national Canadian scene as well
as our American neighbors and other Indigenous people around the world. It is a journey that is
faithful to its original purpose, that of healing from our wounds and finding healthier ways of
relating to each other. It leads to more empowered communities.
Jean Lafrance
HISTORICAL BACKGROUND 5
HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
Upon our return from a workshop in preparation for our Leadership Forum, David Nabew
expressed some puzzlement about the reconciliation issue, indicating that as an Aboriginal
person, he did not feel that he had done anything that required reconciliation. This prompted me
to give more thought to our theme of reconciliation and to reflect upon the meaning of this term.
If we are to undertake a journey of such significance, it seemed important to have common
understanding of the term “reconciliation” and to achieve some clarity about its meanings.
History tells us that many wrongs have been inflicted upon Indigenous people in many parts of
the world. The Latin “conciliate” means “to bring together”. Therefore to re-conciliate would
imply bringing people together again. While there is considerable evidence that the European
arrivals did form alliances with Aboriginal people for the purposes of trade and war that were at
times advantageous to both parties, when these alliances were no longer considered to be useful
and the thirst for land overcame other considerations, mechanisms of domination and
colonization were implemented in the form of residential schools. By the 1960s these were
replaced by provincial child welfare systems that understood little about the near decimation of
Aboriginal communities by nearly one hundred years of residential schools that had set the stage
for another disastrous effort to “protect” their children.
Duncan Campbell Scott, poet, essayist and Deputy Superintendent General of Indian Affairs,
encapsulates the prevailing attitude of his day in 1920, during a House of Commons discussion on
proposed changes to the Indian Act (Milloy, 1999, p. 4).
Our object is to continue until there is not a single Indian in Canada that has not been
absorbed into the body politic, and there is no Indian question, and no Indian department.
That is the whole object of this bill” Frank Oliver, Minister of Indian Affairs declared in
1908 that it was in educating the young lay the most potent power to effect cultural and to
“elevate the Indian from his condition of savagery” and “make him a self-supporting
member of the State, and eventually a citizen in good standing.
According to Scott and government policy, it was imperative to “kill the Indian in the child to
save the man”, and the young were seen as malleable while the adults were a hindrance to the
civilizing process. One of the few dissenting voices of the era was that of Frank Oliver,
Superintendent General of Indian Affairs, who demurred in 1908, after the foundations of the
residential school system had been laid in place that;
I hope you will excuse me for so speaking but some of the most important
commandments laid upon the human by the divine is love and respect by children for
parents. It seems strange that in the name of religion, a system of education should have
been instituted, the foundation principle of which, not only ignored but contradicted this
command (Milloy, 1999, p. 28).
Nevertheless the residential school system was implemented, and it failed to meet the prevailing
standards of the day in almost every respect, at times falling short of meeting the most basic
humanitarian expectations including those of the Declaration of Human Rights in 1948. The
creation of a “total institution” to destroy a people was a deliberate and planned effort by its
architects and it was delivered seemingly with little regard for a people that was nearly destroyed
in the process and who are now trying to rebuild their societies and their very lives. This era was
characterized by inadequate funding on the part of Canada, a lack of accountability for the quality
of services being purchased, and a tendency to turn over responsibility for the delivery of services
to other entities such as the churches, the provincial government and currently Indian Bands
while disclaiming any responsibility for the critical link between fiscal needs and program
standards. The Federal Government has held the purse strings for Aboriginal people, and has
consistently arranged for other entities to provide needed services, but funding limitations have
continued to constrain service providers in ways that have been damaging to Aboriginal
communities. This cycle began when the residential schools were established and the
government soon realized that it was pursuing the wrong path by re-creating a model that had
been recognized by child care professionals in the early 1900s as damaging to children. This did
not deter Canada from expanding this model of child care in spite of the evidence that the
children were not well served and were ill-prepared for life in contemporary society and in their
communities of origin. By the 1940s it was clear that the residential schools were not meeting
their stated objective, and Canada was pressing provincial authorities to assume responsibility
and provide alternate care for aboriginal children in need of protection using the argument that
Aboriginal children and their families were entitled to the same level of services as other
residents of the province, but it failed to ensure that needed community and familial supports
were available to keep families together and that the Provinces had the capacity to serve children.
This led the so called 60s scoop and the admission of thousands of children to white institutions
and foster homes. The pattern continues today with delegated authority to first nation’s
communities for child welfare service, since that authority is accompanied by funds targeted
primarily for the removal and alternate care of Aboriginal children, while failing to provide for
prevention and early intervention programs that would help to keep families together. The
ultimate outcome for Aboriginal children and families has been ever increasing numbers of
children lost to their communities.
In light of these undeniable historical events, the importance of moving toward reconciliation is
undeniable. A fundamental policy and attitudinal shift is necessary. The policy was very clear in
the late 1800s, and has changed substantially, with provincial authorities acknowledging
Aboriginal aspirations in legislation. But these jurisdictions must contend with firmly entrenched
attitudes that belie policy intents that are rooted in racist and gender based assumptions and
beliefs about Aboriginal people. It is important to recall when these efforts began child rearing
by several persons was a traditional custom honored and practiced by all North American Indian
tribes. During periods of hunting and gathering, most nomadic tribes naturally assumed this
standard of protecting children. Children were continually under the watchful eyes of tribal
elders, siblings, cousins, aunts, or grandparents. As a result of this nurturing and security the
Aboriginal child's self-concept was strongly tied to his family, clan, and tribe. Further, the
extended family provided support for families because the responsibility for raising children was
shared by members of the community, and thus no single person was overloaded with the care of
the children. Traditionally, Aboriginal communities "were structured around the unique inter-
relationships that exist among family, extended family, clan, band, and tribe.”(Lucas, 1989). In
addressing this unique family pattern Lewis (1970, p. 16) wrote that "The kinship structure,
embodying a network of valued relationships, is one of the important keystones of the culture."
The actual structure of the society included large extended families and the child, "highly valued,
and occupies a central place within it”. The traditional Aboriginal family "included maternal and
paternal grandfathers, uncles, aunts, and cousins who all actively participated in child-rearing”
(Cross, 1986, p. 284).
The term parenting is problematic for Aboriginal cultures. For Euro-Canadians a parent is
generally a father or a mother, and the parenting role includes child-rearing; in Aboriginal
cultures several members of the extended family and the community are involved in child-
rearing, in spheres of activity that, in Euro-Canadian society are parental. The broader term child
rearing is thus a better term to describe the things that in Euro-Canadian culture come under the
rubric of parenting, and the latter term may infer the more inclusive child-rearing patterns. Thus,
the removal of Aboriginal children from parents to be raised in residential schools and later in
child welfare systems deprived those children of a cultural legacy. The experience missed is the
tightly knit community of extended family and relatives who share the task of child rearing by
providing nurturing and security.
This assault on Aboriginal culture, tradition, language and spirituality resulted in following
outcomes for Aboriginal people:
Low self-esteem; dysfunctional families and interpersonal relationships;

parenting issues such as emotional coldness and rigidity; widespread
depression; widespread rage and anger; chronic physical illness related to
spiritual and emotional states; unresolved grief and loss; fear of personal
growth, transformation and healing; unconscious internalization of
residential school behaviors such as false politeness, not speaking out,
passive compliance; patterns of paternalistic authority linked to passive
dependency; patterns of misuse of power to control others, and
community social patterns that foster whispering in the dark, but refusing
to support and stand with those who speak out or challenge the status
quo; the breakdown of the social glue that holds families and
communities together, such as trust, common ground, shared purpose and
direction, a vibrant ceremonial and civic life, co-operative networks and
associations working for the common good, etc.; disunity and conflict
between individuals, families and factions within the community;
spiritual confusion; involving alienation from one's own spiritual life and
growth process, as well as conflicts and confusion over religion;
internalized sense of inferiority or aversion in relation to whites and
especially whites in power; toxic communication - backbiting, gossip,
criticism, put downs, personal attacks, sarcasm, secrets, etc.; becoming
oppressors and abusers of others as a result of what was done to one in
residential schools; cultural identity issues - the loss of language and
cultural foundations has led to denial (by some) of the validity of one's
own cultural identity (assimilation), a resulting cultural confusion and
dislocation; destruction of social support networks (the cultural safety
net) that individuals and families in trouble could rely upon;
disconnection from the natural world (i.e. the sea, the forest, the earth,
living things) as an important dimension of daily life and hence spiritual
dislocation; acceptance of powerlessness within community life
(Aboriginal Healing Foundation,1999).
The abuse and neglect suffered in residential schools not only affected their lives as adults, but
those of their descendants whose families have been characterized by further abuse and neglect.
According to the Aboriginal Healing Foundation:
Intergenerational or multi-generational trauma happens when the effects

of trauma are not resolved in one generation. When trauma is ignored
and there is no support for dealing with it, the trauma will be passed from
one generation to the next. What we learn to see as "normal" when we
are children, we pass on to our own children. Children who learn that ...
or [sic] sexual abuse is "normal", and who have never dealt with the
feelings that come from this, may inflict physical and sexual abuse on
their own children. The unhealthy ways of behaving that people use to
protect themselves can be passed on to children, without them even
knowing they are doing so. This is the legacy of physical and sexual
abuse in residential schools (Wesley-Esquimaux & Smolewski, 2004)
Despite the publicity generated over the past 15 years, there is still little understanding of
what happened in the residential schools, and how unresolved trauma from residential
school abuse will continue to affect Aboriginal people until it can be expressed, validated
and released in healthy, creative ways. Such an understanding may lead to a greater
awareness of the reasons why the numbers of Aboriginal children entering government
care continue to increase exceed the numbers admitted to residential schools or to the
child welfare system in the 1960s and 1970s. I would suggest that if we are to break this
ongoing cycle, we must all reflect upon our contribution to the experience of oppression
and colonization of indigenous people. Only then do we have a basis for the beginning of
a new discourse.
Afro-Caribbean psychiatrist Frantz Fanon (Cited in Henderson, 2000), has defined

colonized people as:
. . . Every people in whose soul an inferiority complex has been created by the death . . .
of its local cultural originality…which finds itself face to face with the language of the
civilizing nation that is with the culture of the mother country. The colonized person is
elevated above his jungle status in proportion to his adoption of the mother country’s
cultural standards. He becomes white as he renounces his blackness, his jungle. The
tensions between cultures and languages, inferiority complex, the assimilative choice are
all elements of the brutal, subtle brutality of colonization.
This tension was partially addressed in a Joint-Church Delegation of the Indian and Eskimo
Residential School Commission report presented to the Minister of Mines and Resources in 1939,
which described some prevailing beliefs and assumptions and that vividly that illustrate the
deliberate nature of the policy process in candid terms that do not rely on “political correctness”
to camouflage the true intent (RG 10, volume 6730, file 169-62, pt. 2). The following described
the prevailing assumption about the perspective of Aboriginal people on the superiority of
European culture vis-à-vis the forces of nature:
. . . So far as the Indian himself is concerned, he has already seen with his own eyes that
many of the white man’s ways are superior to his own. He has seen, for instance, that the
white man’s methods and education have given him control over many of the forces of
nature and over many of these circumstances of life (p.1).
The delegation then describes two fundamental assumptions about Aboriginal people that had far
reaching implications for the shaping of policy about Aboriginal education;
. . . Further as to the question of providing the best system of education for the
Indigenous people of this country is one which had to be faced in other parts of the world
where superior races (italics by author) invaded and possessed the territories occupied by
similar peoples. Careful consideration is demanded in connection with two other
important factors which have a direct bearing on the subject. The first is as to whether
the Indians existing need is to be taken as the foundation upon which our education is to
be built and by which it would, in effect, be limited. Two, are we to assume that the
white man’s education is the most perfect yet devised by the ingenuity of man and
impose that education upon them without necessarily considering whether, in fact, it is
the best, the form best suited to their capacity or their needs. Both methods have been
employed in dealing with various primitive peoples in other parts of the world and as
might be expected, with various results (p.2).
The policy decision focused on a choice between building on the strengths of Aboriginal people
and “grafting onto the deeply rooted stock of what already exists.” It was acknowledged that “the
Indians successfully occupied this continent for 12,000 or possibly, 20,000 years.” They “. . .
have displayed unsurpassed human qualities of loyalty to unseen powers and adaptability to the
practical; have a living past capable of energizing their present and “any system of education
which destroys all their faith in their own institutions and traditions will create in them, a sense of
permanent inferiority and an unfortunate belief that everything which is peculiarly your own is
not only worthless but an obstacle to progress” (p. 2).
Others contended that the only hope for progress among Indigenous people lay in “the complete
application to their condition of the white man’s experience, knowledge and skill.” It was only
thus that they could benefit from “the education needed to advance them to higher levels of
civilization and to enable them to use to their own advantage, the natural resources which
surround them.” The policy positions were clearly identified in spite of a clear understanding of
the traditional qualities of Aboriginal people that the church societies considered worth
preserving. These are cited verbatim in the language of the day:
1. The quality of loyalty to family and friends which is capable of expansion into
loyalty to a wider circle.
2. The deep love of children from which can be developed the strong desire to help the
children of the race to be well-born.
3. The generosity and hospitality which are outstanding characteristics of the Indian
races which may be developed as some of the finer elements of social living.
4. The traditional quality of courage and admiration of brave leadership and which can
be used to spur the young Indian on in the face of discouragement and the hard grind
of monotonous routine.
5. The engrafted dignity and serenity of the leaders of the race and which should be
preserved as a help in restoring to the hectic world in which we live, the poise and
calm of which we have been robbed by our numerous mechanical inventions (p.3).
Regrettably such insights did little to change prevailing assumptions and beliefs that held the
Aboriginal people to be in need of civilizing and Christianizing. One cannot help but wonder
how differently the lives of Canadian people might have evolved if such beliefs had prevailed in
the education and care of Aboriginal children. Instead, Caldwell’s 1967 Residential School Study
at the request of Indian Affairs and Northern Development that was completed under the auspices
of the Canada Welfare Council sums up the final impressions of the residential schools in
Canada.
The residential school system is geared to the academic training of the child and fails to
meet the total needs of the child because it fails to individualize. Rather it treats him en
mass in every significant activity of his life. His sleeping, eating, recreation, academic
training, spiritual training and discipline are all handled in such a regimented way as to
force compliance to the institutional pattern. The absence of emphasis on the
development of the individual child is the most disturbing result of the whole system.
The schools are providing a custodial care service rather than a child development
service. The physical environment of the daily living aspects of the residential school is
overcrowded, poorly designed, highly regimented and forces a mass approach to children.
The residential school reflects a pattern of child care that was dominant in the early
decades of the 20th century, a concept of combined shelter and education at the least
public expense (p. 21).
In spite of predictions of their early demise, Aboriginal people have been able to sustain
themselves as a people in face of ongoing assaults on their way of life for the past 500 years.
While there have been formal policy changes to counter these experiences in the recent past,
historian Lise Noel (2000) reminds us that systemic colonization is grounded in intolerance. This
intolerance comes from unconscious assumptions that underlie “normal institutional rules and
collective reactions”. It is a consequence of following these rules and accepting these reactions in
everyday life. In systemic colonization, Noel suggests no single source of oppression or
demeaning can be assigned causal or moral primacy. These are imbedded in the consciousness of
all and engrained in our day to day lives to such an extent that if the oppressed cannot point to
any single form of oppression, then the oppressor and his consciousness become invisible.
Young poses the following conundrum in dealing with this issue, stating that;
The oppressor has no apparent existence. Not only does he not identify himself as such,
but he is not even supposed to have his own reality. His presence is so immediate and
dense and his universe coincides so fully with the Universe that he becomes invisible.
Rarely seen, rarely named, he is unique nonetheless and having a full existence as the
keeper of the word. He is the supreme programmer who confers various degrees of
existence on those who are different from himself…as the embodiment of the universal,
the dominator is also the only Subject, the Individual, who never being considered to
belong to a particular group can study those impersonal categories of the population who
pose a “problem”, represent a “question”, constitute a “case” or simply have a condition
(Cited in Henderson, p. 30).
Reconciliation is clearly no simple matter, no matter how sincere the intention. It is further
complicated by the reality that most Aboriginal professionals have been educated and socialized
in mainstream systems for practice in child welfare systems. While many have a growing
understanding of their heritage, they cannot help but be influenced by the education and
socialization to which they have been exposed for most of their lives. Paolo Freire (1968)
cautioned that people who have been oppressed can assume the behaviors of their oppressors
when they take on similar roles. This is not intended to offend our Aboriginal colleagues who
work so hard to overcome great challenges to their practice, but rather to acknowledge that we are
all entering what the early explorers described on ancient maps as terra incognita, an unknown
land. This was often followed by the warning that “here be dragons!” I am suggesting that these
are indeed uncharted lands that call for uncommon wisdom and guidance if we are not to lose our
way. It is also a reminder that while Canada was an unknown land for the early explorers, this
was not true for the original people who served as their guides and helped them to survive during
their initial forays into their land.
Little Bear (2000) proposes that that colonization has created a fragmentary worldview among
Aboriginal people by force, terror and educational policy. It attempted to destroy the Aboriginal
worldview – but failed. Instead it left a heritage of jagged worldviews among indigenous
peoples. He claims that they no longer had an Aboriginal worldview, nor did they adopt a
Eurocentric worldview. Their consciousness became a random puzzle that each person must
attempt to understand. Many collective views competed and since none were dominant modern
Aboriginal people have had to make difficult choices as their consciousness became a site of
overlapping, contentious, fragmented and competing desires and values. Such jagged worldviews
minimize legitimate cultural and social control, and external force and the law become
instruments of social control. One of these instruments has been the child welfare system, which
is clearly an agent of social control with the force of law that has been imposed on Aboriginal
communities. How can we reconcile such diametrically opposed forces amidst so much
confusion?
In part the answer lies in accepting the wisdom of Aboriginal colleagues and elders to guide us in
this journey through unknown lands and to join forces in the slaying of the “dragons” that lie in
wait. Early indications in the “Making Our Hearts Sing” initiative are that questions about the
impacts of residential schools and community perceptions about possible solutions rarely
coincide with the usual child welfare responses. The discourse about new directions and policy
recommendations will likely conflict with the application of prevalent approaches to the delivery
of child welfare services, with their top down, segmented and increasingly rigid approaches that
rely on standardized approaches that differ from the holistic and flexible models favored by
families and communities.
If one revisits the outcomes of residential schools on Aboriginal people outlined earlier, there is a
discernible gap between current responses and our knowledge about the effects of
intergenerational trauma. While the ignorance of provincial authorities in the 1960s and1970s
could be understood, if not forgiven, the newly discovered knowledge of the past decade leaves
no room for excuses in our failure to address the issues that contribute the ongoing decimation of
Aboriginal families and communities. I suggest that it is in the growing interest in spirituality
and Aboriginal thinking that lays the promise for the future. Hart (1996) compares Western and
Aboriginal approaches:
Western models of healing separate and detach individuals from their social, physical and
spiritual environments, isolating “patients” for treatment purposes and then re-introducing
them into the world. Traditional healers are concerned with balancing emotional, physical,
mental, spiritual, aspects of people, the environment, and the spirit world. (p. 63)
While social work has begun to incorporate spirituality as part of its knowledge base and practice
foundation, Zapf (2003) warns of the danger of limiting our understanding of spirituality to a
component of the person, pointing out that Aboriginal social work and traditional healing are
founded on a spiritual sense of interconnectedness. He asks us to consider whether spirituality
might not be a key to expanding our understanding of the person/environment relationship and
the profound connections between ourselves and the world around us.
Little Bear (2000) adds to the complexity of the issue by suggesting that “. . . all colonial people,
both the colonizer and the colonized, have shared or collective views of the world embedded in
their languages, stories and narratives.” Further “no one has a pure world view that is one
hundred percent Indigenous or Eurocentric; rather everyone has an integrated mind, a fluxing and
ambidextrous consciousness, a pre-colonized consciousness that flows into a colonized
consciousness and back again” (p. 85).
An ancient Amazonian legend provides a further source of wisdom. According to the legend, the
blue-black Rio Negro and the creamy, caramel-colored Rio Solimões, run side by side, without
mixing at the mouth of the Amazon. The waters of the two rivers differ in temperature, clarity,
density and acidity, and continue side by side for miles before becoming the Amazon. Both
rivers converge at one point but prior to this each retains its essential quality and characteristics.
The resulting foam is considered to be new knowledge that would not have been created if the
rivers had not met (Based upon an oral telling by Dr. Timothy Pyrch). Perhaps by creating such a
convergence of our two rivers, Aboriginal and Western, we can co-create new knowledge to not
only better serve Aboriginal communities, but all communities, while retaining the fundamental
integrity of our respective world views. This would require the hard work of sharing our
experience, our feelings about matters of importance to us and helping the other to better
understand, and reciprocating this experience. This may provide an opportunity for conversation
and understanding. Sahtouris (1992) a planet biologist, tells of an ancient prophesy that
illustrates this point more fully;
Within the ancient Hopi Indian Prophecy is told the history of the Red and White
brothers, sons of the Earth Mother and the Great Spirit who gave them different missions.
The Red Brother was to stay at home and keep the land in sacred trust while the White
Brother went abroad to record things and make inventions. One day the White Brother
was to return and share his inventions in a spirit of respect for the wisdom his Red
Brother had gained. It was told that his inventions would include cobwebs through which
people could speak to each other from house to house across mountains, even with all
doors and windows closed; there would be carriages crossing the sky on invisible roads,
and eventually a gourd of ashes that when dropped would scorch the earth and even the
fishes in the sea. If the White Brother's ego grew so large in making these inventions that
he would not listen to the wisdom of the Red Brother, he would bring this world to an
end in the Great purification of nature. Only a few would survive to bring forth the next
world in which there would again be abundance and harmony.
The parallels from a planetary ecology perspective with that of human ecology seems clear
enough. Without wishing to be alarmist in the broader context of our world, I suggest that as
professionally led services have evolved over the past century, the adoption of a bureaucratic and
legalistic paradigm seems to have increasingly rigidified practice by the introduction of overly
specialized roles, top down and fiscally driven policies, increasing disconnection from
community, overly prescriptive standards and other trappings of technologically based
approaches that create increasing distance between child welfare practitioners and those they
serve. Regrettably, these are the very models provided to Aboriginal community service
providers, that combined with the legacy of oppression discussed earlier, can create services that
emulate dysfunctional models from mainstream services.
If we are to address these issues, we must bring together the best of indigenous and western
approaches by introducing elements of interconnectedness and spirituality to practice in all of our
communities. Our lives and destinies as Aboriginal and non-aboriginal people are so intertwined,
that it is only by bringing together the full force of our understanding that we can reverse the
actions of past generations and create a new society that is ready to learn the lessons that are so
critical to our common future.
It is only in this way that we can achieve true reconciliation – a coming together again in full
respect and acknowledgement of the unique contribution that we can each make to re-shape our
future together.
The following chapter examines the failure of the residential school system and to a more limited
extent the child welfare system that replaced it in the light of prevailing standards of care in
society during the period of 1940 till 1971.
PREVAILING STANDARDS AND RESIDENTIAL SCHOOLS 17
PREVAILING STANDARDS AND RESIDENTIAL SCHOOLS
This chapter reviews and compares the conditions and practices of the residential schools funded
by the government of Canada and operated by religious orders in Alberta during the period of
1940-1971 with prevailing standards in contemporary society at the international, national and
local levels. During this period of time, the federal government had embarked upon a policy of
integrating Aboriginal people and wished to move out of the residential school system, pressing
the provincial governments to assume statutory responsibility for the provision of child protection
services on First Nations communities. In order to achieve this, the Federal government amended
the Indian Act in 1951 to allow for provincial legislation to apply to First Nations. Unfortunately,
no provision was made to ensure the readiness and capacity of Alberta to provide such services
and the province did not develop the capacity to serve these communities until the early 1960s
when regional offices were expanded to serve rural areas of the province.
This created a state of limbo for First Nations communities for most of the time period under
review. Federal employees such as Indian Agents made decisions about the placement of
Aboriginal children in residential schools without having the required skills or alternative child
care resources. The Oblates who operated the residential schools resisted their proposed phasing
out, and used their considerable political and religious influence to continue operating the
schools. The province was unable and unwilling to provide services as proposed by the Federal
Government, which seemed unable to pursue their objectives with either the province or the
religious congregations. In the meantime Aboriginal families and communities continued to be
subjected to arbitrary treatment by all of these parties, ultimately by the province in the 1960s
when it assumed responsibility under the assurance of full funding by the Federal government for
children who required care.
This chapter addresses three sets of important questions with regard to this era. The questions are
important because of the “de facto” assumption of responsibility by the Federal government for
the provision of child welfare services for Aboriginal children living on First Nations
communities during most of this period of time. These questions focus on how the services
provided by the Federal government and its agents, the residential schools, compared with the
standards for services to children, families and communities in contemporary society during the
period from 1940-1971. They consist of the following:
• What were the standard practices and procedure for identifying children in need of care
and removing them from their homes to place them in alternate care settings? To what
extent did the procedures and practices evident in the residential schools conform or not
conform to these standards and practices?
• What types of care settings were considered and preferable for dealing with children in
care and what role did institutional care play in the spectrum of services? To what extent
were the known and preferred types of care services made available to Aboriginal
children and what role did residential schools play in this spectrum of services?
• What were the accepted standards for institutions providing child care and to what extent
did residential schools comply with these standards?
It is proposed that the residential schools failed to meet the prevailing standards in almost every
respect, and at times contravened standards in a manner that fell short of meeting the most basic
humanitarian expectations including those of the Declaration of Human Rights in 1948. The
creation of a “total institution” to destroy a people was a deliberate and planned effort by its
architects and it was delivered seemingly with little regard for a people who were nearly
destroyed in the process and who are now trying to rebuild their societies and their very lives.
This era was characterized by inadequate funding on the part of Canada, a lack of accountability
for the quality of services being purchased, and a tendency to turn over responsibility for the
delivery of services to other entities such as the churches, the provincial government and
currently Indian Bands while disclaiming any responsibility for the critical link between fiscal
needs and program standards. The Federal Government has held the purse strings for Aboriginal
people, and has consistently arranged for other entities to provide needed services, but funding
limitations have continued to constrain service providers in ways that have been damaging to
Aboriginal communities. This cycle began when the residential schools were established and the
government soon realized that they were pursuing the wrong path by re-creating a model of
serving children that had been recognized by child care professionals at the beginning of the
1900s as damaging to children. This did not deter Canada from expanding this model of child
care in spite of the evidence that the children were not well served and were ill-prepared for life
in contemporary society and in their communities of origin. By the 1940s Canada was pressing
provincial authorities to assume responsibility and provide alternate care for aboriginal children
in need of protection, but failed to ensure that needed community and familial supports were
available to keep families together and that the Provinces had the capacity to serve children. This
led the so called 60s scoop and the admission of thousands of children to white institutions and
foster homes. The pattern continues today with delegated authority to first nation’s communities
for child welfare service, since that authority is accompanied by funds intended solely for the
removal and alternate care placement of Aboriginal children, while failing to provide for
prevention and early intervention programs that would help to keep families together. The
ultimate outcome for Aboriginal children and families has been ever increasing numbers of
children lost to their communities and to themselves.
In 1947 the Imperial Order of the Daughters of the Empire (IODE), hereafter referred to as the
IODE report, commissioned a report by Dr. Charlotte Whitton and a team of experienced
professionals entitled “Welfare in Alberta: The Report of a Study.” 1 The IODE report on the
state of child welfare in Alberta enunciated a number of principles that were considered, by
competent child welfare practitioners, to be essential building blocks for a child protection
system.
The most commonly accepted of these principles was the fundamental belief that the family was
the ideal and natural setting for a child and that families should be supported to the fullest extent
possible in providing for their children. The IODE report stated that, “the community as a whole
must look to assurance that the child’s parental guardianship is functioning safely for both the
child and the community.”i The report goes on to state that “the normal processes of the day in
terms of providing wardship were necessary to provide legal guardianship and care for children
through the means of the courts or through the process known as surrender, and indenture
required important safeguards, in view of the importance of such decisions on Aboriginal families
and their children.” It also addressed “the grave responsibility of an agency giving care to
children who still have parents of their own and to whom they are likely to return, is to see that
the bonds of family loyalty, affection and responsibility are not weakened but are fostered in
every way.” (p. 72).
The provincial government appointed a Royal Commission in 1947 in response to the IODE
report. The Royal Commission submitted its findings in December 1948 and, although it differed
on some specific issues with the IODE (e.g., the export of babies to the States and a return to
Children’s Aid Societies); the commissioners were generally in agreement with the findings of
the IODE report. The Royal Commission made a series of sweeping recommendations to
upgrade provincial services to known national and international standards. The Commission also
expressed concern about the disregard in departmental policy and practice of some basic
principles of family welfare. They indicated that fundamental “to all modern social work is the
preservation of the child’s natural home and family ties, and that the lack of an integrated public
welfare and social assistance program and departmental policy have interoperated to the
unnecessary separation of parents and children and to the unnecessary and unjustifiable
destruction of parental guardianship”.ii The Commissioners expressed a great deal of support for
and understanding of this principle and strongly recommended that if the home became, by
reason of poverty or any other cause, “an unfit and dangerous home for the child” the first step
should be to deal with the poverty or other dangerous conditions to allow the child to remain in its
own home and family. This suggested that the Child Welfare Branch provide individual
casework within the homes in order to remove or mitigate those conditions that were detrimental
to the family and also relieve the poverty of families in cooperation with the welfare department,
where poverty contributed to the neglect of children.
The Commission considered the value, and even the necessity, of having proper standards in child
welfare work promulgated and made known, as being too obvious to require elaboration, stating
that “We have elaborate codes, set out by Order-in-Council, to govern plumbing, electrical
wiring, swimming pools, etc. Surely, it is no less necessary to define and enforce the standards
and techniques we expect in child welfare.”iii
It should be recognised that the impetus for these reports was the awareness that Alberta lagged
behind the rest of the country and much of the developed world in the implementation of proper
child welfare standards. These reports collectively involved an effort to bring Alberta up to par in
the provision of child welfare services by making them subject to recognised and accepted
standards of child welfare practice. Collectively, the Child Welfare Committee, the IODE
Report, and the Royal Commission in Alberta recognised an excellent set of standards for child
welfare practice. These included: the professionalization of child welfare services to children, the
use of selection committees to identify suitable employees, ongoing professional development
and annual conventions of staff, and a decrease in the use of large institutions in favour of small
cottages and community-based resources. In addition, great emphasis was placed on supporting
children in the home through individual casework, for example, enhancing the role of the family
and community in supporting the child and decision making, and addressing economic
deprivation to ensure that children were not removed from their homes because of poverty. It
seems inevitable that the government of Canada would have been knowledgeable of these
standards at the national level and in light of their interactions with more advanced jurisdictions
such as the province of Ontario.
CHILD CARE PRINCIPLES UPON WHICH STANDARD PRACTICES AND PROCEDURES FOR
IDENTIFYING CHILDREN NEEDING CARE, REMOVING THEM FROM THEIR HOMES AND
PLACING THEM INTO ALTERNATIVE CARE WERE BASED.
It seems relevant to comment upon the proclamation of the Universal Declaration of Human
Rights proclaimed in December, 1948. It promulgated fundamental human rights that were to be
applicable to every individual and “every organ of society”. According to Article 2 “anyone is
entitled to all of the rights and freedoms set forth in this declaration, without distinction of any
kind, such as race, color, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social
origin, property, birth or other status” and where, according to Article 6 “everyone has the right to
recognition everywhere as a person before the law.” According to Article 12 “no one shall be
subjected to arbitrary interference with his privacy, family, home or correspondence, nor to
attacks upon his honour and reputation. Everyone has the right to the protection of the law
against such interference or attacks.” According to Article 15, (1) everyone has the right to
nationality; (2) no one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his nationality nor denied the right to
change his nationality. According to Article 18, “everyone has the right to freedom of thought,
conscience and religion…to manifest his religion or belief in teaching practice worship and
observance”. Article 26; subsection 3 states that parents have the prior right to choose the kind of
education that shall be given to their children. Finally, in Article 30, “nothing in this declaration
may be interpreted as implying for any state, group or person, any right to engage in any activity
or to perform any act, aimed at the destruction of any of the rights and freedoms set forth herein.”
The following section speaks to the standards that evolved during the 20th century and that guided
the development of child welfare services for most of the past century. These are drawn from
documentation provided by the Child Welfare League of America, which continues to play a
leading role in standard setting in North America.iv It must be noted that they are not intended to
cover the standards of the day in detail, but rather to portray some key areas that are especially
germane to the issues under consideration.
Prevailing Standards in Canada
Miss Phyllis Burns, Executive Secretary of the Child Welfare Division of the Canadian Welfare
Council (the same organisation which in 1967 was commissioned by the government of Canada
to study residential schools), appeared before the Royal Commission to address the question of
basic principles of child welfare. Burns was a graduate of the University of Toronto’s School of
Social Work. Prior to accepting a position with the Council she worked for three years as
Assistant Director of the Maritime School of Social Work in Halifax, one of seven schools of
social work operating in Canada in the 1940s. Burns was asked whether the principles set out in
the IODE report were compatible with principles taught at the Maritime School of Social Work,
and she readily confirmed that they were.v According to Burns the principles consisted primarily
of the following:
• The home is the basic unit in our society.
• Society has to provide the child with guardianship.
• It is the responsibility of society to maintain the child’s own home for him/her and to
preserve parental guardianship wherever possible.
• Under no circumstances do we deprive the child of his/her own parents for reasons of
poverty alone.
• Where it becomes inevitable as a last resort to remove parental guardianship from the
child, that it be done on a court order and other guardianship should be substituted
immediately so that at no time a child is without properly and forcible legal guardianship.
• Where guardianship is transferred from parents to another body and then it is desired to
transfer that guardianship again, that the further transfer should be effected in the same
way, i.e. through Court Order.
The following section reviews these themes in further detail and we will revisit them later in this
document.
Primacy of the family
The child’s own home and family were the natural medium in which normal social and
personality development could best be assured. The nurture, support and training of the child
were the primary responsibility of the family, and this was seen as the best societal institution for
the preparation of children for adult roles in society.
Support for the family
If necessary the child’s own family should be assisted in every possible to meet his needs in his
own home. It was recognized that families could encounter situations that were beyond their
control and the intention was to provide the family with assistance when they first needed it
including the use of financial aid and casework services. This principle also stressed the
importance of bringing to bear the broader spectrum of social services available and of
community resources to preserve and rehabilitate the family when necessary.
Removal of child as a last resort
Children should be cared for away from their own families only after efforts to bring about
favourable conditions within the home for the development and protection of the child have been
unsuccessful. Children should be removed from their family only in extreme cases such as
situations of orphans without relatives, foundlings, or children born out of wedlock; or where the
effort to provide financial aid and casework services were not successful in helping the parent to
meet the needs of the child. It was also recognized that the child may have developed serious
health or behavioural psychological problems that the family was not able to manage and that
required a different environment. The IODE Report also addressed “the grave responsibility of
agency giving care to children who still have parents of their own and to whom they are likely to
return, is to see that the bonds of family loyalty, affection and responsibility are not weakened but
are fostered in every way” (p. 72). When the child needed alternate care, case work was to
continue with the parents to change the conditions which contributed to the placement in the hope
of an eventual return to the family.
Emotional damage of separation on child
Children who must leave their own homes and live away from their family were seen to suffer
from a profound emotional and social disturbance which can never be fully compensated. This
principle was based on the observation that children whose parents were unable to care for them
often feel somehow responsible for having been given up by their parents. It was believed that
every child placed in foster care would show some degree of emotional disturbance regarding the
parent’s inability to care for them, resulting at times in severe behavioural problems. Regardless
while foster care was never seen as a completely satisfying substitute for the child’s family, it was
recognized that some situations might not allow any choice.
Consideration of parental preferences
The type of care provided for the child should be based on the consideration and wishes of his
parents, his individual needs and the family situation. A comprehensive social assessment of the
child and his family situation was considered important in order to decide what kind of care was
best suited for the child’s needs. It was important that the parents participate in planning
alternative care because of their primary rights and responsibilities as parents, and because
casework experience showed that such involvement often improved the ongoing connection and
potential of return home for the child.
Community Programs
A comprehensive range of community child welfare programs was necessary for each child to
receive the care required.
Social Casework
Social Work was the favoured method in determining and meeting the needs of children whose
parents were unable to give them the care they needed. The social work method was seen as the
best way to help children by working with the resources in the child’s immediate environment
and by developing the individual capacity of the child. The IODE report (1947) on the state of
child welfare in Alberta enunciated a number of principles that were considered by competent
child welfare practitioners as essential building blocks for a child protection system. The most
commonly accepted of these principles was the belief that the family was the ideal and natural
setting for a child and that families should be supported to the fullest extent possible in providing
for their children, and the profession of social work was seen as the most ideally prepared for this
responsibility. The casework method involved professional interviewing skills, observation,
diagnosis, treatment, and the use of resources and related services such as medical, psychological
and psychiatric services. In short, the social worker who was seen as a highly trained professional
who could use a variety of interventions including her own skills in building relationships and
creating understanding between people.
Community Support
The IODE vi report (p.64) also stated that, “the community as a whole must look to assurance that
the child’s parental guardianship is functioning safely for both the child and the community.”
The community was to be involved in the decisions regarding the parental guardianship process
and called upon to ensure safety for both child and community.
Legal Process and Protection
The IODE report well represented prevailing standards when it stated that “the normal processes
of the day in terms of providing wardship were necessary to provide legal guardianship and care
for children through the means of the courts or through the process known as surrender and
indenture required important safeguards, in view of the importance of such decisions on
Aboriginal families and their children.”
Understanding the developmental needs of children
An understanding and knowledge of the physical, intellectual, emotional and social development
of children was essential to casework. Social workers were expected to have a good
understanding of normal childhood development, a sound understanding of family dynamics and
of the interaction of parents and their children and the emotional needs of children in a family
setting. This would form an important component of the family and social assessment of social
workers in planning alternative care for children.
THE EXTENT TO WHICH THE PROCEDURES AND PRACTICES EVIDENT IN THE RESIDENTIAL
SCHOOLS CONFORMED OR DID NOT CONFORM TO THE STANDARD PRACTICES AND
PROCEDURES OF THE TIME
It is difficult to reconcile the noble principles enunciated by the United Nations Declaration of
Human Rights in 1948 with the reality that was occurring for Aboriginal children and their
families. It is equally difficult to reconcile this reality with the recognised child welfare standards
of the day. This vulnerable group was removed from their homes and placed in the care of total
strangers, many of who were hostile to their culture, beliefs and language, and whose avowed
intent was to remove their culture, destroy their beliefs and take away the language for the sake of
civilization. It seems that none of these rights applied to Aboriginal people in this era, as the civil
and religious authorities trampled upon basic human, familial, national and religious rights and
freedoms in the name of civilization and Christianization.
Primacy of the family
The child’s own home and family were the natural medium in which normal social and
personality development could best be assured. In First Nations communities the nurture, support
and training of the child was a collective responsibility of the community. There is no evidence
that the Aboriginal family was perceived to be the best place in which to raise children as a
driving principle in that era. In fact, it often seems to have been considered an option of last
resort for much of the 1940s to the1960s. The residential school was based on the principle of
separating the child from his family. When the province entered the picture, the perspective of
provincial officials did not change overly much, leading to what has been subsequently termed at
the 60s scoop. According to Alberta statistics, this “60s scoop” more realistically took place in
the 1970s, where alarmed provincial social services leaders realised that while some 70 First
Nations children had been in care in 1960, by 1974 there were 2200 in provincial care in Alberta.
Support for the family
If necessary the child’s own family should be assisted in every possible to meet his needs in his
own home. There appears to have been no effort to provide assistance to families as an
alternative to placing children in residential schools. There is also no evidence that services were
provided to meet the needs of families whose own ability to parent had been devastated by
decades of life in residential schools. There is considerable evidence that many of the decisions
to admit children to residential schools were based upon presumptions of neglect and abuse and
the inability of parents to care for their children. In addition those charged with these decisions
lacked the professional capacity for this function, and alternative resources to this model of caring
for children were limited.
In a memorandum dated February 25, 1959 the Supervisor of Social Workers for the Department
expressed concern about the practice of admitting children to residential schools for reasons of
neglect and poverty, exhorting staff to employ alternative measures of supporting families and
keeping them together (Document C1.972). In this memorandum dated February 25, 1959 it is
confirmed that the federal Department of Citizenship and Immigration had hired social workers
whose role was to support regional superintendents with social issues for which they held
responsibility.vii The Supervisor stated that:
“Indian residential schools are used extensively to accommodate orphan children, those
from broken families and others who home conditions for a variety of reasons prove to be
unsatisfactory. In the majority of such cases, the conditions of these children would
constitute neglect under provincial child welfare legislation.”viii
It was clear from the correspondence that the school staff was uncomfortable with the exercise of
guardianship duties over residents. The memorandum also stated that residential schools were
used to accommodate neglect cases, because Indian Superintendents had no access to outside
resources.
Removal of child as a last resort
There is little indication that from the 1940s until the late 1950s that this was a driving principle
for decision making. In fact, removal of children to residential schools was seen as the preferred
option. By the late 1950s and 1960s as the Federal government began to more aggressively
pursue an agenda to have Aboriginal children served in days schools located in local communities
and in provincial schools, the decision making about admissions to residential schools could be
expected to have been modified from a major thrust for the admission of most Aboriginal
children to residential schools, and for the development of hostel and foster home options for
children who could not live at home. While the percentage of children admitted to day schools
increased, Enns has found that the absolute numbers of children admitted to residential schools
increase from 9000 students in 1940 to 10,310 in 1963. In addition to the reasons put forth by
Enns, I would add the impact of the decision making about the options available to children by
staff who were ill-equipped to assess the needs and requirements of Aboriginal children,
exacerbated by the lack of community alternatives.
Emotional damage of separation on child
Children who must leave their own homes and live away from their family are often seen to
suffer from a profound emotional and social disturbance which can never be fully compensated.
There seems to have been no consideration of this element in the decision to place children in
residential schools. The principals and staff of residential schools were not trained in child care
and had no access to specialized psychological support in dealing with the emotional needs of
children who suffered from the separation from family and community. In addition, since by this
time, many generations of families lost their ability to parent as a result of their total institutional
lifestyle, it seems unlikely that of the parents might have been limited in their understanding of
what their children were lacking, and might have come to view the residential schools experience
as “normal.”
Consideration of parental preferences
The type of care provided for the child should be based on the consideration and wishes of his
parents, his individual needs and the family situation. There is no evidence of social or familial
assessments having been completed, and the evidence and policy of the day is that parental choice
was not a factor. The evidence is that parents had no choice in the matter as the forces of the
church and the state combined to forcibly remove children from parental homes and their
communities.
It seems that the parents who were assessed as unable to provide care for their children would
have had little consideration given to their preferences or any recourse if they disagreed. In the
words of one former resident:
Our parents had to send us to the residential school. We were treated very badly
right from the beginning. We were not given a choice to keep our kids. They
had to be there. Kids had to be there at the mission in September otherwise you
got in trouble. They just said, you have to have them at residential school at a
certain age or else so most of the parents took their kids there because they didn't
want to get in trouble with the Indian Affairs.ix
This was complicated by the cumulative impact of several generations who lacked parental
models and who had failed to bond with their children. By the 1960s, a generation of Aboriginal
parents who were not given the choice of raising their children began to show signs of
"abrogating their responsibility as parents." The research indicated that a pattern of expectation
had developed among "some Indian parents that the residential school system provided
a…carefree way" of living without children.x
I think after a while families got used to not having their children and they didn't take full
responsibility and the boding wasn't really there so that took a lot of responsibility from parents
and they were used to not having their children. But that's why they're suffering because there's
no bonding.
Community Programs
A comprehensive set of community child welfare programs was necessary for each child to
receive the care required. While public assistance services were available, there is no evidence of
comprehensive community programs on First Nations communities, a situation that continues
today with delegated child welfare agreement that make no provision for preventative and early
intervention programs. There is no indication that the usual range of social services were
available in First Nations communities were available under public or private auspices in
comparison to the majority of communities in Alberta. The non-profit or voluntary sector was
non-existent. This limited the communities’ ability to address conditions detrimental to families
and to alleviate poverty of families where it was the primary cause of neglect. It seems clear that
the community was not involved to any extent in the decisions regarding the parental
guardianship process and very little in ensuring safety for both child and community.
Regrettably, this took place in a cultural context where extended family, including grandparents
and uncles and aunts, had traditionally played a strong and important role in the care and
nurturance of their children.
Social Casework
Social Work was the favoured method in determining and meeting the needs of children whose
parents were unable to give them the care they needed. The casework method involved
professional interviewing skills, observation, diagnosis, treatment, and the use of resources and
related services such as medical, psychological and psychiatric services. Throughout the 1940s to
the late 1950s and even into the 1960s, Indian Agents provided a quasi child protection service
wherein they utilized their traditional authority role without the legal sanctions, protections and
resources necessary to support families and protect children. In a social context where the
capacity of families to parent had been impaired by several generations of residential schools life,
Indian Agents presumably dealt with Aboriginal people as wards of the Federal Government and
governed every aspect of their lives. They became, by default, child welfare workers on the
reservations and made critical decisions with respect to the placement of Aboriginal children. It
was their determinations regarding the capacity of parents and home conditions, and their
assessment of neglect and abuse that led to the placement of children in residential schools.
Most, if not all of these individuals were ill-prepared to make the kinds of social assessments that
were required and lacked a range of possible resources to sustain and support Aboriginal families
who had been wounded in their capacity to parent. The Federal Government had become
increasingly concerned about the practice of Indian Agents assuming a child protection function,
and proposed specific criteria to guide their decision making in the admission of children to
residential school, directing them to make referrals to provincial services where they existed. In
1959, a six-category grading system was introduced to judge children based on integration
potential, but also included assessment based on actual or potential neglect in the children’s
family home. Aside from legislation, the method referred to might be interpreted not only as a
grading system, which it probably was intended to be, but also a practice guide in addressing
suspected child neglect in aboriginal homes (Document C1.2029).
Concerns regarding the qualifications of individuals that were being asked to make child welfare
decisions persisted to the late 1960s at least. R. D. Ragan, Regional Director, Indian Affairs
Branch, writing to D. Kogawa, Head of Student Residence Services for the Branch, in 1968 stated
“there is room for the employment within our structure of a person whose major job is to find
suitable homes, both on and off reserve, in which Indian students could be placed.”xi Ragan
appeared to be referring, in this context to students whose primary need was a place of residence.
Milloy (1999) claims that the development of a welfare function in the residential school system
had not been unforeseen, and had been part of the post-war reconstruction planning. The
processes provided and the training of Indian Agents, however, could not be compared to
prevailing standards of the day.
Legal Process and Protection
There were no legal safeguards for children and their parents or legal processes by which the
decisions of Indian Agents could be challenged. This appears to be a state of limbo from a
legislative, social policy and practice perspective, as parents were treated as wards of the state
without any possibility of appeal, at a time when society as a whole was generating sound
principles to govern the protection of children in the broader society. There is no evidence that
such factors were a consideration until later in the 1950s, when social workers who had been
hired to work with provincial superintendents began to raise concerns about the system that had
been developed and the lack of commonly accepted standards in child welfare practice. While
the federal government has stated its intent to have provincial laws and procedures apply to First
Nations communities in the early 1940s, and formalised this intent by amending the Indian Act in
1951, the province was not able to respond in any significant fashion until the late 1960s, leaving
the Aboriginal people for whom the federal government was responsible without any legal
protection and due process for important decisions about the care and guardianship of their
children including the decision to place them in residential schools.
A meeting of Social Workers in November of 1955 chaired by the Director of Indian Affairs and
attended by the Minister and Deputy Minister provides some interesting insights into the
evolution of social workers roles in this organization. The record of this meeting stated that
negotiations on the extension of children’s services to the reserves were continuing between the
Government of Canada and the Government of Ontario but no definite commitments had yet been
made. It was hoped that these negotiations would establish a pattern for similar developments
throughout Canada. There was certainly recognition that numerous child welfare problems were
coming to the attention of Indian Affairs field staff. There was a felt need to improve services for
neglected and delinquent children and it was noted that due to a lack of understanding “punitive
methods” were applied, especially when dealing with unmarried mothers. There were also
concerns that children were being admitted to residential schools “for no other apparent reason
than the economy of welfare funds”. The IODE report further advised that,
The whole question of child protection, service with unmarried mothers, home
finding, placement and supervision of these children is another area in which the
Dominion should cooperate to assure good field service, from qualified staff to
work with the province and the community services, giving care.xii
A key finding in the IODE report was that funding was the primary obstacle in establishing a
sustaining level of services for indigenous people. Unfortunately, jurisdictional differences and
funding remained a controversial issue throughout and continues to have a negative influence on
serving Aboriginal families today.
Understanding the developmental needs of children
An understanding and knowledge of the physical, intellectual, emotional and social development
of children was essential to casework. Indian Agents, school principals and residential school
staff were untrained in child care and social work, and could not expected to have a good
understanding of normal childhood development, a sound understanding of family dynamics and
of the interaction of parents and their children, and the emotional needs of children in a family
setting. This simply was not a requirement of these positions.
TYPES OF CARE SETTINGS CONSIDERED PREFERABLE FOR DEALING WITH CHILDREN IN CARE
FROM THE PERIOD OF THE 1940’S – 1970’S. PLACE OF INSTITUTIONAL CARE IN THIS
SPECTRUM OF SERVICES.
In overall terms the provision of alternate care for children in foster homes and institutions was
intended to ensure that the children had the same needs met and the same rights as any other
childxiii. This included:
a) Security which provided some stability and a sense of belonging and counting some thing
in the lives of others
b) Human relationships that provide a chance to live with others in a family setting or in a
small group and to develop mutual attachments and a sense of responsibility for others
c) Simple well prepared nutritious food, that was probably served in attractive surroundings
and eaten in a leisurely happy atmosphere
d) Adequate shelter that was clean, well lighted, ventilated, properly heated, with sanitary
toilet facilities
e) Each child was expected to have a separate bed and a place for private processions
There has been considerable controversy over the role of institutions in relation to other options
for children such as boarding homes and foster care. Institutions had been primarily created
during the nineteenth century in response to the horrendous conditions of children living in alms
houses with those whom society considered to be its rejects due to their age, physical and mental
condition. The social reformers of the nineteenth century proposed a range of theories
concerning the potential of highly structured institutional living, but over time disappointed the
public and their supporters when their claims remained largely unfulfilled. By the end of the
nineteenth century institutional childcare was primarily viewed as a failure but the debate
continued for several decades to come. Governed by the principle that the best placement for
children was in their own family homes whenever possible, foster homes were seen as the best
substitute for children who were capable of forming new family relationships. By the early 1940s
the Child Welfare League of America had proposed that all children under the age of six should
be placed in foster homes, as well as children in need of permanent care, and those who require
the kind of individual attention that would be possible in a family setting.
For children who were unable to form new emotional attachments in foster homes because of
personality difficulties or problems in relation to their families then institutional care was
sometimes seen as preferable. It was felt that the child could learn in an institution to live away
from his family without expecting him to become part of another family group until he was ready
to take on some new relationships. It was also believed that many adolescents and children who
required only temporary care or children with behaviour or personality problems who would not
be easily accepted in foster homes or who required more extensive treatment in a controlled
environment should be cared for in an institution. This way they could experience group living
and have access to facilities that provided observation and treatment that could be better suited
for their needs. Clearly residential schools did not fit into this role. The children who attended
them were almost all children who, if they required care at all, according to prevailing child
welfare standards should have been cared for in home like settings.
As indicated by Enns, the history of the residential school system for Aboriginal children can be
divided into two periods. The first extended from the establishment of the schools until the end
of the Second World War. The second period extended from the late 1940s to the winding down
of the system in the 1960s. A defining feature of the second period was the federal government’s
policy of integration and the resulting changes in the function of the residential schools into
residences and hostels. The federal government’s decision to integrate Aboriginal students into
provincial day schools, beginning in the late 1940s, was significant n in the development of the
residential school system and child welfare services. Prior to integration Aboriginal children
were expected to attend residential schools by virtue of their race. Following the decision to
integrate Aboriginal students into the provincial systems the federal government attempted to
develop and enforce guidelines for admission. The presumption was that Aboriginal children
would attend day schools and only children that met the criteria established by the government
were to be admitted to residential facilities. The government predicted that the role of the schools
would change as they provided residential and hostel services and that, eventually, the schools
would be phased out. Documentary sources reveal that the federal government struggled as it
attempted to put its policy of integration into practice. As a consequence, significant numbers of
children continued to be removed from their homes and institutionalized for extended periods
through the 1950s and 1960s, the time period under examination in this action, even though
government policy, and evidence dating back to the turn of the century, had called for changes in
this practice.xiv
Of interest for this proceeding is the distinction that was made based on education versus child
welfare concerns.xv The department believed that the needs of many Aboriginal students could be
met by providing access to provincial day schools, and accommodation when necessary. In this
case residential services were extended in order to facilitate attendance at day schools,
presumably if the child lived too far away from a school to commute, and not because of child
welfare concerns. The department also recognized that some children required residential
services as a result of child welfare concerns such as neglect or abandonment. In these cases
residential services were extended to address both the child welfare and educational needs. These
cases were clearly more complex and involved additional issues around appropriate identification
and placement following graduation or during summer holidays. At least some of the difficulties
associated with implementing the policy of integration appear to have arisen as a result of
disagreements over the number of child welfare cases and the number of children who continued
to be admitted for extended periods of time, much like children had been admitted prior to
integration. These ongoing admissions appeared to have been related to a number of factors.
First, staff members of the Indian Affairs Branch were given the responsibility of identifying
children at risk and planning for their care. Officials in the Branch made it clear that their
employees did not possess the skills required for this job. Second, provincial services were
typically not available for Aboriginal children that were in need, and were properly identified, so
they continued to be admitted to residential schools for extended periods of time. Finally, there
was disagreement and some confusion over how many children were actually in need of child
welfare services and some concern that the Oblates were continuing to admit children,
purportedly on the basis of child welfare need, even when these needs did not exist.
The government faced concerted opposition from the Oblates as it attempted to implement its
policy of integration and remake residential schools into facilities that admitted only children that
could not attend day schools due to distance or due to concerns regarding neglect in the home or
abandonment. A confidential federal report written sometime after 1965 reported that the “largest
bone of contention between the Catholic Church and the Branch is the integration program.”xvi
The report indicated that Oblates were “using their influence to obstruct the transfer of Indian
children to public schools” and as a result they were “condemning [Indian children] to seasonal,
unskilled employment because very few of them will have the opportunity to achieve their full
capacity in school and are ill-prepared for opportunities off reserve”.xvii The author went on to
note that this practice has hurt the children so admitted since “most of the Oblates have come to
realize that the high school academic program in the residential schools has failed miserably …
However, some are still not prepared to relinquish the senior students, instead they propose to
enlarge the residential schools and to expand the facilities to permit the schools to offer
vocational courses.”xviii Finally, the author indicated that the opposition by “a hard core of
conservative missionaries” was likely to continue since they “vociferously oppose any
reduction.”xix
Concerns about the number of students that continued to be admitted into the residential schools
emerged much earlier. In a memorandum dated February 5, 1959 the Supervisor of Social
Workers for the Department of Citizenship and Immigration expressed concern about the practice
of admitting children to residential schools for reasons of neglect and poverty, exhorting staff to
employ alternative measures of supporting families and keeping them together.xx In 1961 P.
Deziel, Assistant Chief in the Education Division, noted that, based on standards established by
the Indian Health Services Division, there was room for 7,704 pupils in all residential schools but
in 1961 9,830 students were registered. Deziel reported that “the Department was becoming
increasingly concerned about the overcrowding of the majority of the Indian residential schools”
and concluded that there has been “laxity in approving admissions of many children whose home
circumstances did not warrant residential school care and that one of the first steps in an attempt
to reduce enrolments would be more careful screening of individual applications.”xxi In short,
while the Federal government and the churches failed to agree on the policy of integration and the
expected impact on the need for residential schools, and all the while provincial officials failed to
make child welfare services available to children in need of protection, thousands of Aboriginal
children continued to be admitted to residential schools due to their perceived need for protection
from abuse and neglect. Sadly, many ended up being maltreated in the very setting that was
supposed to protect them from such treatment, the purpose being defeated by a combination of
factors that had little to do with their interests and preparation for their future in Canadian society.
It is clear that the options prescribed by the standards of the day were not made available to many
of these children who were placed in residential schools: families were not provided with social
services and community support that would enable them to resolve those issues that plagued
them, extended families and communities were not called upon or enabled to provide support and
alternative care for children, no foster homes in or near the community were developed, and the
limited number of day schools developed in Alberta meant that for most of the families none of
these options would have been accessible. In addition, the level of preparation for the individuals
making such decisions was essentially non-existent. This led to a generation that in some
respects may have been even more disadvantaged than previous generations at a time when
existing knowledge of the implications of such poor practice was known.
1.6. THE ACCEPTED STANDARDS FOR INSTITUTIONS PROVIDING CHILDCARE FROM THE
1940’S -1970’S.
The following section addresses some key elements of institutional care that focus on aspects of
particular relevance to children placed in residential school system. These elements are selected
from the Standards for Foster Care promoted by the Child Welfare League of America in 1936.xxii
They are not intended to provide detailed knowledge, but rather to point out some considerations
that are seen as relevant to the discussion about this period of time with Aboriginal children.
It is important to state at the onset that while children’s institutions shared many common
characteristics, some child welfare experts have proposed that child care institutions are not
inherently destructive. Gil (1974) points out that private schools for the influential members of
society have mitigated the factors that are often mentioned as weaknesses in institutional settings,
and suggests that institutions are inherently neutral, but may be used constructively or
destructively, depending on their social purposes. xxiii If they are aimed at maximizing every
child’s developmental potential and the economic and educational resources are consistent with
that purpose, children will thrive there. On the other hand, if the social purpose reflects a punitive
and discriminatory philosophy and the economic, educational and psychological measures match
that purpose, children will be thwarted in their development. This is a relevant point for the
Indian residential schools in that the purposes of such institutions were clearly articulated from
the onset. Enns discusses this from an evolving historical perspective that clearly indicates the
purpose of residential schools as primarily to remove the “Indian in the child”, and to destroy the
culture and traditional spirituality of Aboriginal people by this means. In addition, it is clear that
from the onset Aboriginal children were not seen as having the potential to be anything but farm
labourers and domestics serving while settlers. The educational and work programs prepared
them for this kind of future based upon a limited understanding of their potential, something that
Caldwell discovered in his landmark study of the residential schools in Saskatchewan. Finally
while abuses did exist in other child serving institutions, no other examples come to mind in
North America of such a systematic approach to the destruction of a people in the name of
Christianization and civilisation, and the use of this rationale to justify such extreme practices
would not have been tolerated other settings.
Capacity of Institutions
While the Child Welfare League of America did not specify the ideal size for institution it did
recommend that the most desirable capacity should range between seventy-five and two hundred.
It was also stressed that the primary criterion for the decision on size should not be based upon
administrative convenience or benefits, but on social casework applied to the type of services
provided by the institution. The standards presume that given adequate foster care alternatives,
the institution model could best serve children as: assessment centres for diagnosis and treatment
for brief periods of time; specialized services to meet the problems of difficult adolescents who
could not fit into their own homes or in a foster home but who could accept the more personal
control of residential life, and convalescent care between a stay in a hospital and their own home
or foster home. It was also stressed that the institution should accommodate both boys and girls
so that brother and sister groups could be kept together and that all the children have the
advantages of association, including both of the sexes.
Staff
Superintendents were to be chosen on the basis of their training and responsible experience in
children’s casework and with proven executive ability. They should understand the principles
and problems of child welfare services outside as well as inside the institution for which they
were responsible. A range of staff were expected to be in place; including recreation workers,
who were also responsible for developing and working with volunteers, and child care staff with
personal qualities deemed necessary for working with children. It was also important for
employees such as house mothers and other members of the child caring staff to be granted at
least one and a half days a week and one Sunday a month free from their duties to relieve them
from the stress occasioned by their duties.
Children’s Work
While the contribution of children’s labour to the institution was seen as potentially useful under
some circumstances, state standards governing the employment of children were to be followed
and this was not interfere with the educational program of the children.
Groupings
Children should live in small groups and it was preferable that institutions be divided into small
cottages. Each cottage should not accommodate more than twenty children to minimize undue
routine in the children’s lives. When small cottages were not available it was desirable to divide
the children who had to live in one building into groups ranging from ten to twenty in number.
Each of these groups should have its own housemother. An important contributor to the quality
of life for children in institutions was the extent to which the milieu facilitated individuation
rather than regimentation. Writing in 1961, Goffman noted that a “basic social arrangement in
modern society is that the individual tends to sleep, play, and work in different places, with
different co-participants, under different authorities, and without an over-all rational plan”.xxiv A
central feature of total institutions is that the barriers normally separating or distinguishing these
spheres of activity are broken down, so that “all aspects of life are conducted in the same place
and under the same authority” (p. 6). Additionally, all activities of daily life are carried on in the
presence of other people who are similarly compelled, all activities are proscribed by those in a
position of authority and are tightly scheduled, and “the various enforced activities are brought
together into a single rational plan purportedly designed to fulfill the official aims of the
institution”.xxv Goffman noted that total institutions compel obedience because the behaviours of
individuals can be quickly assessed against the rules of the institution and the behaviour of peers.
Goffman identified a number of social and psychological consequences that arise as a result of
being placed in total institutions,xxvi beginning with admission. Upon admission individuals are
subjected to procedures designed to fit them to the institution. These procedures include
“undressing, bathing, disinfecting, haircutting, issuing institutional clothing, instructing as to
rules, and assigning to quarters”.xxvii These operations “might better be called ‘trimming’ or
‘programming’ because in thus being squared away the new arrival allows himself to be shaped
and coded into an object that can be fed into the administrative machinery of the establishment, to
be worked on smoothly by routine operation”.xxviii Following admission “disculturation” may
occur as individuals lose certain behavioural and cultural opportunities and fail “to keep pace
with recent social changes on the outside”.xxix Disculturation renders an individual “temporarily
incapable of managing certain features of daily life on the outside, if and when he gets back to
it”.xxx Although some roles may be re-established upon leaving the total institution “other losses
are irrevocable and may be painfully experienced as such”.xxxi These include life cycle
opportunities such as education, job-related opportunities, courting and parenting. Finally,
Goffman referred to the mortification of self that may arise as a result of being numbered and
renamed, and having to participate in activities and routines foreign to, or incompatible with,
prior notions of self and community. As a consequence, individuals typically experience loss of
identity,xxxii loss of self-determination,xxxiii and acute psychological stress.xxxiv
Funding Sources
It was considered desirable for an institution to secure a considerable part of its support from its
community served in which it operated. Per capita support payments were rarely expected to
cover more than half of the actual cost of providing care, as if nearly all the income was from one
source there was the danger of the institution becoming too dependent and losing important
contacts with the community it served.
Intake Process
A casework approach to the admission of students to the institution and for follow up with the
child upon discharge was preferred. It was assumed that an investigation would be made prior to
the admission of any child that included a family history and assessment of the overall situation.
A comprehensive outline was provided for the preparation of such an assessment that included a
detailed description of the family situation, capacities of other members, the children’s physical
and mental conditions, religious background, personal histories, and personal characteristics. All
cases should have been case conferenced upon admission with all of the staff.
Legal Control
The transfer of legal custody should be made only though court action; with the consent of a
properly designated state department or with a transfer of custody by the parent.
Food
Standards were put forth in regard to the amount and variety of foods that were required by
growing children. It was suggested that no institution in 1937 could provide food for the children
for less that $125.00 per capita per annum. It was also suggested that when the annual capita
expenditure was less that $100.00 one could anticipate serious inadequacies.
Clothing
Children should have clothing similar to that worn by any other children in family homes and
uniforms were to be avoided except for athletic activities. Caution was to be exercised in using
donated clothing or handing down garments that have been used by other children in the
institution. It was especially important for children not to wear shoes that had been worn by
others and if used clothing was provided it should be carefully refitted before the child received
it.
Education
Children were expected to attend full time school throughout the period required by the law.
Children who had the capacity for high school, professional, and college education should have
this made available whenever possible.
Religious Education
Children should receive religious instruction in accordance to the faith of their parents.
Recreation
Play was important in the child’s life and there was to be ample time for free play. Boys and girls
should be free to play together both in the institution and the community. A large institution
should provide for association with children in the neighbourhood and failure to provide such
opportunities would isolate boys and girls who needed all the preparation possible for a
successful social life in the community.
Relationship with Relatives
In addition to staying in touch with relatives it was recommended that there be carefully planned
policy to guide child caring staff as they came in touch with parents and others visiting the
children. It was also important to have the children regularly visit their parents and relatives.
Community Contacts
It was important that there be as few barriers as possible between the institution and the
neighbouring community. In certain instances it was recommended that the institution could be
used as a resource for the adults and children who lived nearby.
Length of Residence in the Institution
It was important that long term care in the institution be avoided because of the weakening of
family ties that arose from prolonged separation in addition to the high cost of good institutional
care. It was expected to be that norm that the period of time in the institution be brief and ideally
only for a few months.
Records
There were detailed recommendations on keeping case records on the children on a range of
topics, these records were to conform to generally recognized principals of case record keeping
and should provide a continuous record of their condition and development.
1.7 COMPLIANCE OF RESIDENTIAL SCHOOLS WITH PREVAILING STANDARDS
1.7.1 CONTEXTUAL CONSIDERATIONS
It is important to understand the traditional context in which Aboriginal children had been raised
prior to considering the extent to which established standards were followed. The sharing of
child rearing by several persons was a traditional custom honoured and practiced by all North
American Indian tribes. During periods of hunting and gathering, most nomadic tribes naturally
assumed this standard of protecting children. Children were continually under the watchful eyes
of tribal elders, siblings, cousins, aunts, or grandparents. As a result of this nurturing and security
Aboriginal children were strongly tied to family, clan, and tribe and the extended family
supported families because responsibilities were divided among many members of the
community, and no single person was overburdened with the care of a child. Traditionally,
Aboriginal communities "were structured around the unique inter-relationships that exist among
family, extended family, clan, band, and tribe.” xxxv In addressing this unique family pattern)
wrote that "The kinship structure, embodying a network of valued relationships, is one of the
important keystones of the culture."xxxvi The actual structure of the society included large
extended families and the child, "highly valued, and occupies a central place within it”.xxxvii The
traditional Aboriginal family "included maternal and paternal grandfathers, uncles, aunts, and
cousins who all actively participated in child-rearing." xxxviii
Parenting skills and child-rearing patterns are terms that are reflected differently in each culture.
the removal of Aboriginal children from parents to be raised in residential schools deprived those
children of a cultural legacy. The experience missed is the tightly knit community of extended
family and relatives who share the task of child rearing by providing nurturing and security.
It is also important to note that by the 1940’s the Aboriginal communities had been weakened by
several generations who had been through the residential school experience, graduating from
schools which had subjected them to severe regimentation and often physical, sexual and
emotional abuse that left them with an overall fear of authority. The legacy to this generation was
an impaired ability to transmit a sense of culture and identity and a vulnerability to the loss of
culture, language and Aboriginal spirituality. They suffered from broken relationships between,
not only the generations but with each other as a result of the violence and atmosphere in which
they had been raised which ended up creating tremendous mistrust. In addition, the ability to
parent had been seriously diminished as the generations failed to develop parenting models upon
which they could base their ability to raise their children. In addition, this generation often failed
to develop methods of discipline that were consistent with their culture, leading some to replicate
the rigid and often violent methods of discipline that had been imposed upon them with their own
children.
Haig-Brown emphasized the lack of positive role models because "Children learn parenting skills
by the way they are parented" (and for many Aboriginal children who spent ten years or more at
residential schools, one must conclude that these children "had limited experience as family
members".xxxix Atteneave recollects that "Neither they nor their own parents had ever known life
in a family from the age they first entered school.xl The parents had no memories and no patterns
to follow in rearing children except for the regimentation of mass sleeping and impersonal
schedules”. This lack of positive role modeling, brought on by the education process at
residential schools, has taken its toll in the Aboriginal family in Canada today. When the family
structure is weakened or destroyed the culture and society cannot help but be affected.
The Joint Parliamentary Committee on the Indian Act, convened from 1946 to 1948, was
instrumental in redefining federal policy with regard to residential schools for Aboriginal
children.xli In its submission to the Committee the Indian Association of Alberta (IAA) noted that
the treaties provided for the establishment of schools on reserves and, among its many
recommendations, it advocated that the residential school system be curtailed in favour of day
schools. xlii The Association emphasized that “No child can develop as he should, without the
care and affection of family life … [and the] restrictions, discipline, exclusive use of English, etc.,
in the Residential Schools are now recognized as having a harmful effect on immature minds and
bodies”xliii The IAA noted that there may be some situations where residential schools are needed
to meet local needs but they should continue in operation only if requested by the Indians
themselves, and in these cases they should be properly funded, equipped, and staffed.
1.7.2 COMPLIANCE ISSUES

The following section describes the extent to which residential schools in this period of time met
prevailing standards. It will be appreciated that the manner in which residential schools were
operated stands in stark contrast to the forms of parenting that had historically been a part of
Aboriginal culture and tradition.
Capacity of Institutions
It seems clear that many school principals admitted greater number of students than were
desirable from a physical space and staffing perspective to compensate for the meagre funding
formula applied by the Federal Government. Enns describes how during the period under
consideration, in light of the resistance of many Oblates to the phasing out of residential schools,
many children were admitted on the basis of fiscal considerations and ultimately to help the
institution to survive. Foster care alternatives do not seem to have existed, and there is no
evidence that the institutional model was able to differentiate on the basis of which children it
could best serve.
Staff Competence
School principals were primarily administrators and were not required to possess training and
responsible experience in working with children, nor were they expected to understand the
principles and problems of child welfare services outside as well as inside the institution for
which they were responsible. Child care workers were responsible for “the 24-hour care of
children living in institutions” including the supervision of the activities of daily living for
younger children and “guidance in personal and social responsibilities for older children, and
received little respite from the challenging work of supervising 30 or more students 24 hours a
day .”xliv In its findings the Caldwell report noted that “Since the institutional staff are the key to
the quality of the program that is offered, concern must be recorded at the low educational
qualifications demanded, the low status of the staff, the limited wages, the long hours and the
minimum attention paid to staff development and training.”xlv
The Caldwell report noted that the Department had implemented one-week training courses for
residential staff but it recommended that “a very strong, well-organized training and staff
development component” be developed.xlvi It recommended that this training become part of the
ongoing routine of the various residences. It also recommended that the role of the senior
supervisor be professionalized “so that this person can teach and direct the child care staff in their
function.”xlvii This could be accomplished by hiring social workers into these positions or through
other, specialized training. The report noted that the Branch employed various professional staff
that could assist in this, and that university extension programs could also be used. Two years
later Kogawa reported “At the present time, there are few child care workers employed in Indian
Student Residences who are qualified in terms of formal training.”xlviii
It has also been noted that staff did not have separate housing as recommended by the CWLA, but
that for the most part they shared sleeping quarters with the students they supervised and whom
they spent the majority of their time. It can be speculated that such conditions may have led in no
small way to the negative and sometimes harmful interactions that have been reported by many
former residents.
Children’s Work
In its submission to the Joint Parliamentary Committee on the Indian Act, convened from 1946 to
1948, the Indian Association of Alberta (IAA) condemned the existing “half-time work system”.
Their submission reported that up to three years of a child’s allotted school time between the ages
of seven and 16 years-of-age were devoted to manual labour in the schools and it recommended
that the system of manual labour be abolished.xlix Delegates stated that “To speak about Indian
advancement under such conditions is [sic] sheer mockery. The present system encourages
educational delinquency, retarded development, and an aversion to education. Practically
speaking it creates a class of people who are unable to be anything more than hewers of wood and
Enns has provided a comparison of per capita costs for similar institutions that provided funding
far in excess of the amounts provided for Indian residential schools. It seems clear that the
expectation for work was excessive and not in keeping with the overall development and
education of the students.
Groupings (Total Institution)
Enns indicates that while the development of small cottages that could accommodate no more
than twenty children with its own housemother to avoid too much routine the children’s lives was
proposed early in the development of residential schools, this never occurred. In the words of one
former resident;
In the dormitory, there were three rows of beds. There were 45-50 girls, and two
nuns would sleep in the corner, with the curtain drawn their beds, one at one end
and one at the other end. You'd go to sleep, then they'd be walking around. It
was just like a jail, a penitentiary. That's what it was like, when they took us
from our parents and put us in there, like we did something wrong. Everybody
was crying, little kids crying because they didn't want to stay there. They'd get so
lonesome.
The residential school model was a total institution as described by Goffman.l The residential
school experience of many of the survivors indicates that there was an overall failure to meet the
human and developmental needs of children. Josefowitz & Barnes have closely studied factors
related to stress and resilience in the residential school experience. There are prevailing themes
in this research along with others that mirror the accounts of many residential schools survivors.
The schools failure to individualize children, as every moment of their day was regimented to the
extent that they lost any sense of who they were, has been well documented, and produced many
individuals considered of little use to their communities of origin or to mainstream society. Many
survivors describe themselves as having reached a stage of robot-like behaviour as a result of
their treatment throughout their formative years. The following account of life in the residential
schools speaks to this experience. li
So everything was controlled. What you spoke, they controlled. They controlled
our religion. The nuns taught us what was good and what was evil. The dances
and feasts were evil. We were worshipping a different God. There’s only one
God but they invented another one, I guess, for us.
Discipline in these schools was harsh and the daily routine rigid. Children were required to speak
only English and were punished for using their Aboriginal language. Their hair, an important
cultural symbol, was cut short. Uniforms replaced individually created and uniquely decorated
Aboriginal clothes. Visits home were few and far between. Clearly, the boarding school was an
effort to destroy cultural identity; unfortunately, it was quite successful as many lost touch with
their tribal language, religious beliefs, customs, and social norms.
Funding
While it was considered desirable for an institution to secure a considerable part of its support
from its community served in which it operated, the primary source of income was derived from
per capita grants provided by the Government of Canada. It seems likely that the religious
congregations would not have received some financial support from their members, but it is
conjectured that this would have been of limited benefit in view of the ongoing financial
constraints experienced by the residential schools. Insufficient funding for the religious
organizations, who received far less funding than similar child care institutions in North America,
helps to explain substandard diets and at times inedible food that could not sustain the growing
bodies of children, inadequate clothing, sleeping accommodations that were overcrowded and a
breeding ground for the spread of infectious diseases such as tuberculosis, inadequate staff ratios,
poor training, the need for children to work on the school farm and to take on significant
responsibilities for the work inside the facility, etc. Enns provides a detailed description of the
problems created by poorly constructed facilities and their effect on child health. This problem
was compounded by poorly heated and ventilated buildings that were ill conceived and ill-
equipped to deal with the extremes of Canada’s weather, compounded by deficiencies in
cleanliness and sanitation that also contributed to the spread of illness.
Intake and Assessment Process
There is no evidence that a casework approach was followed for the admission of students to the
institution and for follow up with the child upon discharge for most of this period of time.
According to our information, decisions for admission to residential schools were arbitrary and
enforced by the police and Indian Agent. There are no records of completed social or family
assessments, nor are there any references to such in the documentation available. In 1959, a six-
category grading system was introduced to assess children based on their potential for integration
and that provided for an assessment of actual or potential neglect in the children’s family home.lii
This method was therefore not only a grading system, but a practice guide for federal staff in
addressing suspected child neglect in aboriginal homes.
Enns indicates that when provincial welfare agencies became involved they viewed
residential schools as resources for children in care, while at the same time, Indian
Affairs was trying to avoid “exclusive welfare services for Indians, which would set them
apart from other Canadians” and they were seen as a “costly duplication of provincial
programs.” In 1949 the Department of Indian Affairs began to recruit social workers to
assist local superintendents in matters related to children and families, and Federal
documents from the 1950’s attest to their efforts to promote change in the treatment of
children and their families and closer work with provincial authorities. A meeting of
Indian Affairs Branch Social Workers in November of 1955 chaired by the Director of
Indian Affairs and attended by the Minister and Deputy Minister provides some
interesting insights into the evolution of social workers roles in this organization. The
proceedings of the conference closed with the hope that the influence of social work in
the Branch would result in the “elevation of standards of welfare practice …”liii The
record of this meeting stated that negotiations on the extension of children’s services to
the reserves were continuing between the Government of Canada and the Government of
Ontario but no definite commitments had yet been made. It was hoped that these negotiations
would establish a pattern for similar developments throughout Canada. Numerous child welfare
problems were coming to the attention of Indian Affairs field staff and it was important to
improve services for neglected and delinquent children. It was noted that due to a lack of
understanding “punitive methods” were applied, especially when dealing with unmarried
mothers. There were also concerns that Indian Affairs Branch Child Welfare Protection services
were placing children in foster homes without supervision or subsequent planning and that
children were being admitted to residential schools “for no other apparent reason than the
economy of welfare funds”. liv
In an undated document, the Indian Commissioner for BC wrote to the Chief of the Welfare
Division expressing concern about Indian residential schools being used extensively to
accommodate orphan children, those from broken families and others whose home conditions
were unsatisfactory. In his opinion, the majority of these children would be viewed as neglected
children under Provincial Child Welfare Legislation. The Commissioner requested a review of
the individual situations throughout the province and case histories illustrating the problems of
these children as reflected in their case histories. lv It seems clear that the intake and assessment
process was plagued by uncertainty about federal/provincial roles and responsibilities, a lack of
expertise in the assessment of home conditions, a lack of clarity about the purpose of residential
schools, disagreement between the federal government and the Oblates about the continuation of
the residential school system, and the lack of legal constituted procedures to making decisions
about the placement of Aboriginal children.
Legal Status of children
The IODE Report stated that “the normal processes of the day in terms of providing wardship
were necessary to provide legal guardianship and care for children through the means of the
courts or through the process known as surrender and indenture required important safeguards, in
view of the importance of such decisions on Aboriginal families and their children.” There is no
evidence of a legal process by which the transfer legal custody by court action, with the consent
of a properly designated state department or by a transfer of custody by the parent until the entry
of the provincial child welfare system in the late 1950s. A memorandum in 1959 from M.S.
Payne, supervisor of social workers in Indian Affairs on the subject of residential school
admissions provides an analysis of the situation as it evolved by the end of the 1950s. lvi Payne
suggests that the current way of dealing with neglected children by placing them in residential
schools leaves a great deal to be desired, and that it is only a partial solution to the problems of
the child. Payne expresses the hope that when the services of child caring agencies are available,
a policy would be adopted by where admissions to residential schools for reasons of neglect
would be limited to only those children who are under the temporary or permanent guardianship
of an accredited child caring agency, a policy that had been adopted earlier in Ontario.
The province of Alberta began to evolve a system and the resources needed to serve First Nations
communities around that time, but it took some time for this to develop in conjunction with the
expansion of the government’s regional office system throughout the province. Meanwhile the
Government of Canada seems to have relied upon its traditional role with Aboriginal people
under the Indian Act to make decisions about First Nations children, notwithstanding the statute
of general applicability that was designed to ensure the same protections and services as
‘provincial residents’ to First Nations communities. It is difficult to understand how the federal
government might have promulgated such legislation in the face of a well recognised incapacity
at the provincial and municipal levels. There is no evidence of a realistic appraisal having been
conducted of the feasibility of such a change, nor of a well considered transition plan from
Federal to Provincial jurisdiction.
Provincial child welfare workers involvement with Indian families on reserves did broaden when
the government of Alberta began to expand its regional offices in 1959. A major shift took place
that involved Aboriginal people, Federal and Provincial officials, and religious organizations. It
is strongly speculated, however, that a collective awareness was lacking in terms of what was
unfolding at the community level in the aftermath of closing the residential schools. This shift
would also have resulted in the gradual exit of religious orders and federal officials from
residential school system operations, which had turned into child caring resources. While this
happened, provincial child welfare legislation was applied. In the case of Alberta, it was carried
out by provincial officials, few of whom had had much to do with residential schools or federal
administrative systems.lvii
Provincial officials approached child neglect in aboriginal community with the use of off-reserve
institutions and non-aboriginal foster families. While they became heavily involved with Indian
and Metis children, the new service providers had little historical knowledge of the residential
school system or for that matter of aboriginal cultures. Superintendent McFarland stated as
follows.
Our child protection services in this province are in their infancy – not only must
we get back to these famous ‘grass roots’ and start doing more preventative work
with basic family problems but we must go back even further to the basic family
pattern, and cultural environment of family life in this province to see that the
seeds future neglect are not only not planted, but are not able to grow.lviii
This process continues to unfold today, as the federal, provincial and local band government
struggle to find new solutions to age old problems. Regrettably, the federal government has
continued its now historical stance. Whereas it used to fund church groups inadequately and in a
fashion that favoured the removal of children from their communities, and disclaiming any
responsibility for the quality of programs; it now fails to invest in early intervention and
preventative programs that would make a substantive difference to First Nations delegated
agencies whose communities continue to lose their children to white service providers in
disproportionate numbers; all the while continuing to disclaim responsibility for the poor
outcomes that are achieved.
Food
The provision of food continued to be an issue for students in residential schools according to
anecdotal information from former residents about the dismal quality and frequently inedible
food. In addition a number of studies by dieticians have described the dietary deficiencies that
existed in many of the schools
Clothing
The story of residential schools is replete with examples of handing down garments that have
been used by other children in the institution, including shoes that had been worn by others,
something that was specifically prohibited.
Education
The educational program devalued students in the very beginning with an assumption that they
only had the potential to become farm labourers or domestics in the homes of surrounding white
settlers. The educational curriculum provided for a minimum of classroom learning that
consisted for the most part of a half-day of class time and a half-day of manual and/or domestic
work. These conditions have been attributed to the inadequacy of federal government funding. In
light of the half days spent working in the institution, it seems highly unlikely that the schools
could have met the minimum expectations required by the law. While this practice has been
connected to the importance of producing sufficient food to offset the limited per capita grants
provided by the Government of Canada, it also seems related to prevailing assumptions about the
capacity of Aboriginal children to strive for occupations beyond those of household domestics
and farm labourers. With rare exceptions, children completed their formal education by the age
of 16 and few were provided with an opportunity for high school, professional, and college
education. This attitude stands in sharp contrast to the IODE Report which provided the
perspective of some esteemed child welfare professionals about Canada’s Aboriginal people.lix
“The whole question of the relation of the Canadian and Indian population is under serious
review from the angle of our failure to have afforded, through the years, opportunity for the inter-
assimilation of a race, many of whose tribes have shown themselves intelligent, enterprising,
gifted and self-reliant. There is grave question of where responsibility lies for those who have not
[shown themselves to be intelligent, enterprising, gifted and self-reliant].”
Religious Education
It is patently clear that not only did children not receive religious instruction in accordance to the
traditional faith of their parents, but the denigration of their parent’s beliefs and spiritual
traditions as pagan was consistent with the churches’ objective of Christianisation. This
continues to leave many Aboriginal people confused and ambivalent about their religious and
spiritual belief systems.
Recreation
It is difficult to gauge the extent to which play was allowed in the children’s lives, although it is
clear that this was provided to some extent. Accounts of former residents abound with stories of
considerable time spent in chapel, study, work interspersed with some descriptions of organised
sports, so it can be speculated that such opportunities were somewhat limited. What was likely
most difficult was the constraint that was placed upon the students on interaction between boys
and girls, many of whom were siblings or related to each other. Residential schools usually had
rules prohibiting conversation between the genders and preventing them from associating
together in the institution.
Relationship with Relatives
While visits from relatives were allowed, it does not seem that they were actively supported.
Visits were usually conducted in formal settings and closely supervised by staff. Visits from
parents were often discouraged and disparaged. One person who worked at the Sturgeon Lake
reserve back in the 1950s recently described how the priests would point to the occasionally
inebriated parents who sat on the front steps of the principal’s residence to beg for food were
pointed out to the student as prime examples of what they would become without the beneficial
effects of the school. Mail was censored and every effort was made to remove any sense of
connection to community and to parents in the belief that they would be a negative influence on
the children. In many instances the residential schools were located at a distance from the
community that required extensive travel by parents and relatives. While national standards
called for institutions to accommodate both boys and girls so that brother and sister groups could
be kept together and have the advantages of association, it was standard policy to prevent contact
between the sexes, even for sibling groups and blood relatives.
The IODE report spoke “of the grave responsibility of the agency giving care to children who still
have parents of their own and to whom they are likely to return, is to see that the bonds of family
loyalty, affection and responsibility are not weakened but are fostered in every way.” There is no
evidence that such factors were a consideration until much later in the 1950s, when social
workers hired to work with provincial superintendents raised concerns about the system that had
been developed and the failure to follow commonly accepted child welfare standards.
Accounts of residential school experiences describe an atmosphere of pervasive fear due to undue
and severe punishments to children. It must have been terrible for children to be subjected to
such treatment and to not have recourse to the protection of family. There are many accounts of
the extreme loneliness of children separated from family and friends, some of which describe
hazardous attempts to reach their homes over long distances in inclement weather that resulted in
their death.
As well as the breakdown of the extended family and kinship systems, the confusion created by
the residential schools' indoctrination undermined the role of elders passing down traditions. The
ban on speaking Aboriginal languages interfered with this "passing down" process.
By going into the residential school, I missed knowing my mother. I missed
learning how to talk Cree --I never really learned how to talk Cree. I was raised
there, and they made us shut up every time we tried to talk Cree. I would have
loved to spend more time with the grandfathers and grandmothers. We never
went to visit them after our mother died--we never saw them after that.lx
Prohibiting the use of Aboriginal languages at every residential school and enforcing this
prohibition by the threat of corporal punishment discouraged the speaking of one's mother
tongue. Young children were isolated culturally and geographically for a period of ten months a
year for most of their middle childhood years. This diminished the chance for Aboriginal
children to gain respect for their elders, their language, and their culture, and to feel a sense of
pride in their unique Aboriginal selves. Today child-rearing patterns among Aboriginal people
have been severely affected and modified. In the process children’s self-esteem has been
damaged and inter-generational communication has broken down because of the loss of language
and the failure to transmit cultural values, beliefs, and customs. lxi
Community Contacts
Most residential schools were isolated and uninvolved with the local community, and there are no
descriptions of their use as a resource for the adults and children who lived nearby. The
relationship of the residential schools to the home and to the community was shrouded in
isolation and secrecy, leaving the children vulnerable to many forms of abuse. Not only were
Aboriginal children educated separately from the dominant society, they were also educated away
from their own culture. In this setting, isolated culturally and geographically, the task of the
residential school system was ensured: that task was the systematic, formalized transmission of
the dominant society’s values, skills, culture, religion, and language. Their isolation led many
students to experience themselves as alien to white society as well as to their communities of
origin. In short, they did not really belong anywhere.
Length of Stay in the Institution
It was recognised that long institutional care in the institution should be avoided because of the
weakening of family ties created by prolonged separation and a stay in an institution was to be
brief. In contrast children were normally placed in a residential school from 6 to 16 years of age.
By the time children returned communities or tribes found their children changed in terms of
values. Children were confused. Instead of completely acquiring the values, skills, language,
culture, and religion of the dominant society, the system created conflicts between parents and
children. Over a period of time some pupils coming out of residential schools began to display
the effects of their education and when they became parents themselves, they lacked confidence
and awareness in child rearing.
Records
There are few case records on the children served, and those that are available provide a very
limited record of their condition and development.
ADDITIONAL CONSIDERATIONS
It was noted earlier that all alternative care services for children such as foster homes and
institutions were to provide for some basic human needs. The following is not intended to be
comprehensive, but rather to illustrate the extent to which these common needs were not only not
fully met, but in some respects totally contravened:
Children’s Needs for Security and a sense of belonging
There is common agreement that children have a basic need for security, stability, a sense of
belonging and to count for something in the lives of others. In lieu of the sense of security that
children need to develop fully as human beings, the accounts of residential school survivors
resonate with negative experiences. This is not to deny that some former residents do report
positive experiences. Why some children have better experiences than others is a subject of
interest that is beyond the scope of this report. What is clear is that many have been subjected to
traumatic experiences that continue to affect them and Aboriginal communities to this day.
Abuse
Many Aboriginal children were subjected to starvation, incarceration, physical and sexual abuse,
and prolonged separation from families. In a 1992 study, negative boarding school experiences
were recounted by a majority of respondents and include physical abuse (58.1%), being punished
for speaking Lakota (37.9%), and sexual abuse by boarding school staff (22.6%)lxii. In the words
of one former resident:
I’ve heard some of those stories from older men. How they were treated. And
one example was like when they went to bed or something, they were yanked out
of bed in the middle of the night and dipped into ice cold water and forced to
stand in the corner bare naked in front of everybody like for a day and it was just
horrible. This older fellow was telling me that it happened to him. I think he
was at an Alberta mission and he said he ran into one of the nuns who used to
teach in there. She was in the old folk’s home in Northern Alberta. This was
years and years later. He was already in his 50s by then and this nun saw him
come into the old folks home and she said, oh, my son and she was trying to be
all sweet and nice and thought he would be happy to see her and he said he
looked at her and he just froze and she came up to him and he said he slapped her
face. He couldn’t help himself. He had all that hate and anger in him for so
many years he just couldn’t control it. It’s just awful things to cause a person to
do that to a nun”. When he was a little boy in the convent he was raped every
night. As a result of that how would you expect that man to even be a good
father – he’d have so much hate.”lxiii
Discipline and Punishment

There have been many accounts of severe punishment by staff. It is significant that the few
directives issued from Ottawa to residential schools reiterated the importance of not resorting to
physical punishment, leading one to easily conclude that it must have been an issue of overriding
concern. The documentation reviewed is replete with requests to school principals to deal with
staff who have been accused of overly harsh and severe punishments, and the resistance of the
administration to deal with the concerns.
We lived in such fear. Fear of punishment. It was the punishment that was really
bad. They punished for everything: when you were lined up . . .lxiv
Pervasive Fear
Many accounts of residential schools speak to the pervasive fear that children had to live with for
most of their childhood. The practice of cruel and unanticipated punishment left children in a
constant state of fear and anxiety, as even if they were not personally punished, they never knew
when they might be next.
Corporal punishment associated with the Aboriginal language
This form of discipline was devastating to the pupils. However, many Aboriginal parents
resorted to using this form of punitive discipline with their offspring. This is understandable
because the use of this "punitive discipline is the result of harsh treatment modeled for them as
children by the staff" at residential schools. Many Aboriginal people who left the residential
school system feared to speak their language and so failed to teach the language and traditional
ways to their children. Of this fear to speak the language Haig-Brown (1988) wrote that "as
adults many consciously did not teach their children an Aboriginal language so that they might
avoid the punishments incurred through its use at school" (p.110). One of the tragedies of this
fear of speaking one's Aboriginal language is the failure to take advantage of what a culture offers
to help ease the hardship of parenting. In former times an intricate network of relatives could be
depended on to help in child rearing. There has been a breakdown to traditional and cultural
child-rearing patterns. Near loss or loss of language and the fear of speaking it has affected these
belief systems and child-rearing values. Dakota Elder Eva McKay of Sioux Valley states "It's
true that the residential school life has altered the traditional way of our people and was the
beginning of the breaking up of traditional family life. We came out confused…and the hurt that
we did not bring out but hid within us became a reality later in life.lxv
1.7.3.2 TO LIVE WITH OTHERS IN A FAMILY SETTING OR IN A SMALL GROUP AND TO DEVELOP
MUTUAL ATTACHMENTS AND A SENSE OF RESPONSIBILITY FOR OTHERS
The failure to provide an environment that somewhat resembled a family setting where students
could experience the development of mutual attachments and a sense of responsibility for others
has led to repercussions that continue in a cycle of lateral violence, high suicide rates, addictions,
poverty, failed relationships, and an inability to parent effectively.
Effects on family and community life
It has suggested that "the causes of the widespread breakdown in Indian family life are
complex."lxvi Aboriginal people are all affected in some way whether they attended these schools
or not. Even those aboriginal people who never attended residential schools have relatives or
friends who still feel the effects. Those who attended residential schools find it extremely painful
and avoid introspection of this highly emotionally burdensome and damaging experience; and
those who did not attend are indirectly affected because they cannot understand why an
educational experience should leave such bitter emotional scars. An indication of the “success”
of the residential schools is that many children graduated with little notion of who they were as
Aboriginal people. In the words of one survivor:
Look at all these kids that have been taken away from the reserve. They don’t
even know where they come from. They don’t know who their relations are or
anything. There’s a lot of them that come back and say this. They don’t know
anybody.
The practice of separating children “from their parents and their way of life had a drastic impact
on almost all Aboriginal families. The structure, cohesion and quality of family life suffered.
Parenting skills diminished as succeeding generations became more and more institutionalized
and experienced little nurturing. Low self-esteem and self-concept problems arose as children
were taught that their own culture was inferior and uncivilized, even ‘savage.”lxvii
Intergenerational Trauma
We have parents who are bitter, and are passing their own bitterness on to their children. This
vicious cycle has to stop. lxviii This generation of young Aboriginal people is the first generation
that did not attend residential schools; but because their parents and grandparents attended, they
are deeply affected by the wounds and bitter memories of early childhood experiences.
Generations of breaking up Aboriginal families have severely undermined the role of the
extended family and kinship networks, causing that structure to break down, or in most cases, to
be destroyed (Ing, 1991). Clinical and research experience among the Lakota reveal that Indian
parents who were themselves raised in boarding school settings feel inadequate and overwhelmed
in their parental role. Further, descendants of boarding school attendees also report a history of
neglect and abuse in their own childhoods along with feelings of inadequacy as parents and
confusion about how to raise children in a healthy way. This historical trauma has resulted in the
impairment of culturally normative parenting styles and high risk for developing alcohol and drug
abuse problems associated with ineffective and injurious parenting.lxix
Loss of affection
Before residential schools, in Aboriginal families, a general loving attitude toward all children
prevailed, not just for one’s own children, but love for all the children of the tribe. An orphan or
an adopted child was not in any way mistreated or set apart by the family, but was gratefully
taken in and cherished. Aboriginal people have been noted to accord unquestioned acceptance of,
and respect for, all individuals, irrespective of age or sex, not only for their abilities but also with
considerable tolerance as well for their weaknesses.lxx In the words of a former resident:
If you go and hug someone, you can just feel the tenseness, we hardly ever had
that, and that began from the residential school, I think, because we never loved
on another that way.” “They (our children) don't realize how hard we had it and
they think we are just neglecting them. We just don't know how to show our
affection to them. We don't know how and that's hard.
It’s very interesting and we survived before, we didn’t have the dollar. We had
love. We had respect for our elders and love from our children because we
showed them love. They didn’t just send them away to school. They learned lots
at home instead of being sent some place else to learn from somebody else and I
think that’s why our kids don’t in a way respect us because we just sent them
away somewhere else to learn all them other things besides love and respect.
Among the damaging effects of residential schools, these are the most difficult to quantify and to
validate, but as a result of being allowed to participate in many talking circles with Aboriginal
people, and the opportunity to review a veritable treasure trove of historical documents I can see
even more clearly that this is an important “legacy” of the residential school experience that will
require more work on the part of Aboriginal communities at a fundamental human level.
Conclusions
While it would be difficult to revisit all of this material and compare my views with those who
were regarded as leaders and luminaries in this era, it seems clear that what has been described in
this document is very much supported by the various reports and commissions of the time.
By the end of the 1940s numerous studies of child welfare services had come forward.
Collectively, the Child Welfare Committee, the IODE Report, and the Royal Commission in
Alberta provided a clear picture of standards for child welfare practice. These included
recommendations for the professionalization of child welfare services to children, the use of
selection committees to identify suitable employees, ongoing professional development and
annual conventions of staff, and a decrease in the use of large institutions in favour of small
cottages and community-based resources. In addition, great emphasis was placed on supporting
children in the home through individual casework, for example, enhancing the role of the family
and community in supporting the child and decision making, and addressing economic
deprivation to ensure that children were not removed from their homes because of poverty. The
standards of service developed by the Child Welfare League of America which form the
foundation for this paper were recognised by each of these reviews. Given the federal
government’s obligations towards Aboriginal children it should have been aware of the standards
referred to in these reviews in Alberta in the 1940s. There is no evidence that the federal
government moved to any significant extent to revise its practices with Aboriginal children in
accordance with the standards evidenced in these provincial reviews.
The federal government was also clearly aware of the findings of the 1946 to 1948 Joint
Parliamentary Committee on the Indian Act. Among the numerous presentations made to the
Committee the submission of the Indian Association of Alberta provided specific
recommendations for restructuring the system. In particular, it emphasized the importance of
family relationships for the developing child and called for the development of a day school
system, as promised in the treaties, as well as the curtailment of the residential system. It also
called for the abolition of the half-day of manual labour and for the establishment of trained
welfare workers on every reserve. While the educational component of residential schools
underwent substantial changes following the Joint Committee’s work, the residential component
went on largely unchanged.
For the purposes of this proceeding, however, it is important to distinguish between options that
improved the education of Aboriginal children from child welfare concerns.lxxi The department
believed that the needs of many Aboriginal students could be met by providing access to
provincial day schools, and accommodation when necessary. In this case residential services
were extended in order to facilitate attendance at day schools, presumably if the child lived too
far away from a school to commute, and not because of child welfare concerns. The department
also recognized that some children required residential services as a result of child welfare
concerns such as neglect or abandonment. In these cases residential services were extended to
address both the child welfare and educational needs. These cases were clearly more complex
and involved additional issues around appropriate identification and placement following
graduation or during summer holidays.
At least some of the difficulties associated with implementing the policy of integration appear to
have arisen as a result of disagreements over the number of child welfare cases and the number of
children who continued to be admitted for extended periods of time, much like children had been
admitted prior to integration. These ongoing admissions appeared to have been related to a
number of factors. First, staff members of the Indian Affairs Branch were given the
responsibility of identifying children at risk and planning for their care. Officials in the Branch
made it clear that their employees did not possess the skills required for this job. Second,
provincial services were typically not available for Aboriginal children that were in need, and
were properly identified, so they continued to be admitted to residential schools for extended
periods of time. Finally, there was disagreement and some confusion over how many children
were actually in need of child welfare services and some concern that the Oblates were
continuing to admit children, purportedly on the basis of child welfare need, even when these
needs did not exist. These three issues continued to plague the authorities and First Nations
communities throughout the period in question to the detriment of Aboriginal children.
While concerns had been expressed by social workers hired in the early 1960s and there was great
unease with the role and purpose of the residential schools expressed in various reports, little had
changed until the report commissioned to the Canadian Welfare Council and completed by
Caldwell in 1967 produced strong evidence of the shortcomings of this model of care and
education. The major conclusions and recommendations of this important report mirror and
support much of the salient facts proposed in this document. Caldwell’s report supported
Canada’s push toward a greater integration of Aboriginal people with mainstream society and the
desire to phase out of residential schools, a task that would be opposed by the Oblate order to the
bitter end.
It does not appear that Canada ever did develop an acceptable way to provide protection and
alternate care for Aboriginal children, and this was to finally be taken over by the province in
accord with the direction proposed as early as 1940. This, of course, continued to create the same
outcomes for children and their families, a scenario that continues to affect child and family life
today even delegated agreements between Canada, Alberta, and First Nations to provide child
welfare services with and by Aboriginal people. While not wishing to sound overly cynical, it is
important to recognise that until we have the collective courage to allow and support First
Nations communities in the development of child, family and community services that are in
keeping with their values, traditions and spirituality, nothing will change in any substantial
fashion.
SURVIVORS 61
SURVIVORS
At the age of seven, they took us from our homes

They cut off our braids
Told our parents they would go to jail
Without fail
If they did not send us to residential school
Our parents were not fools
They knew they were going to be used as tools
for the priests and nuns
What a process they put us through
Took away our culture, language and tradition
They shamed and sexually, physically, mentally abused us
All in the name of the Lord
As we grew older
We could not forget the past

It would for generations last
What priests and nuns did
To a once proud race
Now we have alcohol and drugs to make us forget
Our ways are lost
But not by choice
But by who ruled at the time
- Ron Soto
Member of Sturgeon Lake First Nation, Alberta
THE STURGEON LAKE COMMUNITY AND THE CHILD WELFARE SYSTEM 63
THE STURGEON LAKE COMMUNITY AND THE CHILD WELFARE SYSTEM
Our first step was to create a community consultation process that confirmed a general
dissatisfaction with the current child welfare system and a strong desire for change. Specifically,
an important theme identified in the consultation was the desire for a health/wellness perspective
to inform whatever new system was created. The participants indicated that healthy children
depend on healthy families who feel connected to, and supported by, the community in good
times and in bad, and that this principle must underpin whatever ‘helping’ system is created.
In July 1997, I had asked two members of the Sturgeon Lake Band as the Alberta Children’s
Advocate to initiate a community consultation process, with the results to be used to guide future
action. These representatives were Margaret Kappo, and her mother, Mrs. Mary Kappo, a highly
respected elder. The community child welfare project generated particular interest among
members of the Sturgeon Lake Cree Nation which had been providing child welfare services
since the early 80s. Sturgeon Lake is a rural community of approximately 800 First Nation
individuals plus an equal number who live off reserve. Margaret Kappo facilitated several
meetings in this community and local interest increased with each meeting. The involvement of a
large proportion of community members indicated a remarkable support for the goal of improving
the ability of the child welfare system to protect and enhance the lives of children.
At the initial community meetings, considerable fear and uncertainty about the child welfare
system were apparent. A talking circle format helped to create a supportive environment and to
provide participants with a safe and familiar opportunity to voice their concerns. Individuals
present when the initial Child Welfare agreement was originally implemented in the mid-80s
expressed disappointment over how the system has since evolved. They had envisioned
significantly greater community involvement in the development of services for children and
families. When the originators of this new system reflected on more than a decade of local
control of child welfare, it seemed clear that the original goal of creating a system that was
responsive to community conditions and input had not been fully achieved. According to many
community members, the present system could sometimes be as oppressive and culturally
insensitive as the one it had replaced.
As time progressed, participants in community meetings developed a fundamentally different
perspective on the child welfare situation in Sturgeon Lake. Fear and confusion about child
welfare were still evident. At the same time, however, participants began to evolve into a
“planning group” as they gained a greater sense of ownership and responsibility for addressing
problems in the system, rather than leaving this up to politicians and professionals. This planning
group identified several barriers to community members’ involvement in child welfare. These
included:
• Fear of child welfare and of having children removed
• Fear of being judged inadequate parents
• Fear that the politicians would not listen
• Confusion about how decisions were made, and
• Fear of community gossip.
In addition to these individual-level barriers, the planning group identified what they perceived as
problems with the child welfare system itself. These systemic problems included:
• Policies that prevent many community members from direct involvement in child
welfare programs as foster parents, drivers, and visit supervisors
• Lack of emphasis on prevention and early intervention
• Lack of preparation when children are returned to the community after an out-of-
home placement
• Poor access to needed social and financial resources
• Lack of information regarding programs and entitlements
• Poor relationships between the community and agencies involved in delivering
services to children and families.
Participants also identified a number of positive aspects of the current child welfare system.
These included:
• Delegated authority to deliver child welfare services
• Local child welfare committees that do function well
• Community interest in providing support for children in care
• Culturally sensitive child welfare workers at the community level
• Involvement of the Elders at the community level
• Greater numbers of children remaining in the community, and
• The involvement of the Children’s Advocate.
THE STURGEON LAKE COMMUNITY AND THE CHILD WELFARE SYSTEM 65
Having identified and reflected on the barriers, problems, and positive aspects of child welfare in
their community, the planning group moved into an action phase. The action phase focused on
increasing community input into the development and implementation of programs affecting
children and families in Sturgeon Lake. Patsy Bohler, a Band Council member, represented the
Sturgeon Lake Cree Nation at the political level of the child welfare system. To increase and
diversify community input, the planning group invited people from agencies that share
responsibility for child welfare. This included representatives from Alberta Family and Social
Services and the Sturgeon Lake Band Council. Workers from a neighboring child welfare district
office were invited and joined enthusiastically in the discussions. Several foster parents from
other communities attended because of a desire to ensure that the children they care for remain
connected to their home community. This was indeed a community that ‘welcomed strangers.’
Planning group members emphasized the need for child welfare programs to include traditional
healing approaches. They also spoke to the importance of working in cooperation with tribal
elder, such as having pipe carriers’ act as teachers and leaders to help youth become more aware
of traditional spiritual ways. The planning group’s most important message, however, was that
the community wished to reclaim their legitimate right to have a primary role to play in the
protection and well being of their children.
The planning group discussed one example of how the system currently restricted community
members’ involvement in child welfare. Policy precluded many band members from serving as
foster parents, drivers, or visit supervisors because individuals with a criminal record or a claim
of child abuse substantiated against them were automatically disallowed from such roles.
However, it was widely recognized that many people whose names appear on a criminal record or
child abuse registry had lived without problems for many years, and were in fact leading
exemplary lives. The planning group argued that the existence of a record should not by itself
prevent individuals from assuming child protective roles. Changing this policy to incorporate
more appropriate criteria for evaluating an individual’s ability to work effectively with children
would entail no threat to children’s safety. In particular, this policy should incorporate the
opinion of the community regarding any individual interested in assuming a child protective role,
as in such a small community everyone was well known. Advocacy efforts by community
members succeeded in changing this policy with the local director of Child Welfare, an action
that validated the efforts of the community members involved in this process.
The communities’ vision of a safe place for children led them to initiate an important process of
building upon that experience to identify what contributed to and what worked against the
achievement of their vision. The participants began with an idea of an improved and friendlier
child welfare system. This led to a broader vision: one of child, family and community wellness.
This vision is informed by the stories of the people of Sturgeon Lake. As these stories were told
and heard, healing began to occur. As they become empowered, they were able to give more
fully of themselves and to contribute more.
As the people of Sturgeon Lake compared their original hopes for a locally controlled child
welfare system to the system that had actually evolved, they were inspired. They believed that,
by building on the lessons of the past, a healthier community could be created – a community of
wellness that would give their children the nurturing and healthy home they so deserve.
RECOLLECTIONS 67
RECOLLECTIONS
The following recollection by a survivor of the residential school and community member is
presented because it illustrates in a matter of fact way what life was like from the eyes of a child.
It illustrates the movement from the care of family to one of depersonalization by having numbers
assigned to them and being subjected to a very rigid routine after a life of relative freedom in the
community. The experiences of physical punishment, sexual abuse, lack of privacy at bath time,
isolation from family and community, poor nutrition are interspersed with bittersweet memories
of Christmas pageants and hockey games that briefly interrupted the routine and monotony of
institutional life. While touched on briefly and from the perspective of a child, the life of the nuns
who cared for them, far from their own homes and without respite, is touched upon and calls for
closer examination. This except clearly illustrates how the residential schools failed to meet
established standards of care in Canada during that era.
I was seven when I went to the residential school – I started in grade one. Some of the kids – the
ones with no parents - were put in earlier, at three or four years old. The government wanted me
in school at the age of seven. I started in grade one and went right up to grade nine. We lived in
a log house by the lake – they started upgrading the reserves then by building houses, with
lumber. I used to live with my auntie and grandfather and his wife, they had chickens and cows
and pigs.
When I was in residential school, there were as many as 65 girls there. They used to number you,
“1” was the oldest, right down to the youngest girl – I remember there was a number “65” once.
There were only girls there – the boys had their classes in their own dormitories – so there were
only the girls and the sisters. I started remembering from when I was number 42. After that, I
went right up to number 25. Every year about five or six new little girls would come in.
Everybody had to get up at six in the morning, kneel down by their beds and pray. After the
prayer they had to fix their beds nicely, like in the army. Then we had to wash ourselves – our
faces and hands and hair – we only took a bath once a week, and that was on Sunday. There were
only eight tubs in the room, and there had to be two girls in one tub – and we had to use the same
water for everybody, for 65 girls.
There were sad times and good times too, sometimes. We would go on a picnic, which was the
best thing that happened to us. Once a year in June we’d go. At Christmas, some girls didn’t go
home, so we’d get presents and have Christmas dinner, which was the best dinner of the year. At
Christmas they’d let whoever was left in the mission sleep in – we were allowed to sleep in until
8 o’clock – that felt like a treat to me. When we’d get up, we’d see the sisters all lined up with
their candles, singing Christmas carols right around where the basins were in the middle. That
was the big treat of the year. The sisters didn’t go home to their families, they all came from
Quebec. They just stayed there year after year. The only time they were allowed to leave was
when they were transferring to another mission.
The sisters cooked the food. We grew the potatoes, and then we had cows, chickens and pigs.
They had brothers there who grew the cabbage and carrots and whatever. There was a shack in
the potato field where the hired workers lived. There was a house where the father lived, and
buildings all around. There was a barn, too.
RECOLLECTIONS 69
Mac Papastesis and Cyprien Moses in front of the barn
Sometimes I would stay at the mission all year. When my mom wanted us out, she would come
and get us. My dad died when I was six, and I went to the mission when I was seven. Some of
the kids stayed there all the time – some of their parents worked in camps, out of the reserve – it
was hard for the kids to go home because their parents were not home, they were out working.
We had a Christmas concert every year. Everybody was in it – the boys and the girls. People
were allowed to come and see it. It was nice. I was a hopscotch dancer in the concert, like the
Scottish people. We used to do the Nativity play on stage. They’d make a donkey suit and put it
on these kids, and the kids would walk around like a donkey. They wouldn’t put Mary on its
back, because it would flop, so Mary would walk beside the donkey and pretend to be on it. It
was kind of neat, the way they set it up, because we couldn’t have real animals on the stage.
They were pretty creative in those days.
I baked, I cooked, I sewed on sewing machines, and I knitted. The only thing I didn’t do was
crocheting. I beaded, made moccasins, made gloves. They would send them to an exhibition in
Edmonton once a year. One time I got first prize for my gloves, so I got twenty dollars – they
took ten dollars, and then gave me ten dollars. They used to have a big box of stuff that they
would send once a year to the exhibition in Edmonton. There was a piece of stuff from each girl
that was old enough to do something. They made them do it, then they’d stamp it or mark it, then
whoever came first got twenty dollars – they’d take ten off and give you the rest. But then we
never got paid for doing our chores in the mission anyway, so that was just part of the routine.
We had to look after the youngest girls. It’s just like being at home – the oldest looked after the
middle ones, the middle looked after the smallest ones – that’s the way it was in there too.
There were days, like the day that I got so sick. I had a boil on my neck – I didn’t know it was a
boil – I just felt a lump. I didn’t tell anybody about it. One evening we were all sitting around –
we used to sit around in the evenings from eight o’clock to nine o’clock, and then we were sent to
bed at nine. All the girls were talking amongst each other, and then all of a sudden all I saw was
black. I just keeled right over, and they didn’t know what was wrong with me. Six girls had to
carry me to my bed. They gave me the smelling salts, and when I came to the sisters were
standing around my bed. They said, “Margaret, what’s wrong? Tell us.” I showed them the
lump – they wanted to know why I didn’t say something, but I didn’t know what it was. One
sister used to make her own salve, an ointment. She went down to the kitchen, and then came
back with it in a little silver container. She just put that on gauze and stuck it right on it. She left
one girl there to look after me. The next day, she came to check on it – which salve sucked all the
stuff out of that boil. The sisters were kind of like nurses put together as doctors. We never had
hospitals in those days – just one nurse for the whole reserve. She couldn’t be all over when she
was needed. If something was really wrong, they’d get one of the workers to drive to the town to
get her, to give her a message – there were no phones in those days.
That’s how come they were mean – because we couldn’t contact anybody about the way they
treated us. If we had a phone in those days, we would have contacted somebody about the way
these kids were being mistreated. Somebody would have been sure to let somebody know, but
we couldn't, so we just had to endure what we got.
RECOLLECTIONS 71
We couldn’t even chew gum. If we were caught chewing gum, we had to stick it right on our
forehead or on our nose. Can you imagine standing in the middle with gum on your nose – you’d
looked like a clown. The sisters had a little candy cupboard, something like that. This girl knew
how to open the doorknob, by hanging over the transom and stepping on it from there. They had
gum in that canteen. When she’d steal it, she’d share with everybody who knew that she was
doing that, so that we wouldn’t talk. Sometimes you’d get a handful of gum, and you’d pass it
around. Some of the kids would come back from home with some money, so they’d by some
gum from the canteen and share it with the other kids, with their friends. They had chips in the
canteen, too – we were allowed to have chips. Sometimes they would make us make our own.
They had a potato slicer to slice them really thin. Then they’d deep fry them and put salt on
them. Then we were allowed to eat them. The ones that you buy are dry – these were deep fried
and wet.
I never ran away from there, but my sister did. She got a real good spanking with a big black
strap, about ten times, with her pants down. Sometimes they’d run away two at a time. You
should see that big black strap. The sisters or the father would give the strap. I never got it, but I
could feel it when they got it. You were watching and they were hollering and crying. You’d
feel sad for them because you were looking at them getting it. That was the worst thing of all,
seeing them get whooped with that, seeing it leave marks on their bum.
The boys got that too, but they were in a separate place. They had their own sisters that looked
after them, and we had ours. The boys were more likely sexually abused by the nuns than we
were. One night I was sleeping, and I woke up to go to the bathroom – you used these little
containers, because you didn’t go outside in the middle of the night. I just finished going to the
bathroom, and I was going back to my bed when I heard a rustling noise from downstairs – where
the sisters’ rooms were. All of a sudden I heard a baby cry twice, then after that I heard nothing.
To this day, I still wonder what happened to that baby. It must have been one of the nuns,
because none of the girls were ever pregnant, so it must have been one of the nuns. The baby
cried twice – the cry of being born – and then nothing.
When I turned sixteen I was still in school. I tried to behave from the time I went in till the time I
was sixteen, because I didn’t want the nuns to spank me or anything. But when I turned sixteen I
thought, “This is my last year here, I’m not coming back.” I went to school one morning, and the
sister told me to put the stepladder behind the door. She was standing right in front of the door,
so I couldn’t move it. All of a sudden she just slapped me right across my face. I grabbed her
and hung her on the coat rack, then just walked into the classroom. You should have seen the
kids, they were just clapping and hollering, and she was just kicking away in there. Finally
somebody put her down, and when she came in she sent me into the hall. I went into the hall and
the sister who was looking after us was sitting there and asked me what happened. She said that
it was not my fault, and to stay there with her. She said that when Sister Superior got home that
we’d go see her. The sister who I had hung on the coat rack was there before me. Sister superior
and three other sisters were sitting on each side of her. Sister superior asked me what was going
on, and I asked her if she just wanted the sister’s version, or if she wanted to hear mine too. “If
it’s only her you want to hear, I might as well just walk out of here and not bother saying
anything, then you can punish me all you want. But, there are always two sides to everything.”
She said that she would hear my side of the story, so I told her. I said that there were lots of kids
that were listening to her (the sister), because we were all lining up to go into the classroom when
she told me to put that stepladder behind the door. “If you don’t believe me,” I said, “go ask the
girls that were behind me.” Sister superior said that wasn’t necessary, just tell her what
happened. I told her that the sister asked me to put the stepladder behind the door when she was
standing right in front of it. So I was waiting for her to move so I could put the stepladder away,
when all of a sudden she just slapped my face. I asked her if she would like it somebody slapped
her face if she was standing there with a stepladder in her hand. She said no. Well I didn’t like it
either, so I grabbed her and I just hung her on the coat rack, then I just walked into the classroom.
The nuns started giggling! Sister superior said, “Go Margaret, there’s no need to punish you –
she’s getting punished.” I never got to hear what the sister’s punishment was, because I was sent
out of there.
Later that day, I was washing dinner dishes downstairs. One sister came in. She said to go in the
steam bath. Someone told me there was another sister in there waiting for me. One sister
grabbed me by my hair, but then I grabbed the both of them and just twirled them around. I
slapped one… They couldn’t hold me down, so they got two more to come and help them.
That’s when they slapped my face and gave me a bloody nose. I guess they tried to get even with
me, but they didn’t. I told sister superior what happened, and they were all shipped out that year.
The food they gave us wasn’t worth feeding to children – it wasn’t good enough to feed the dogs
or the pigs. They fed us all kinds of stupid recipes that you’d never heard of – that I’d never seen
RECOLLECTIONS 73
before. Put together, it was a well balanced meal, but it wasn’t worth eating. It didn’t look good
enough to eat. They mixed scraps together, something like that. .Two years before, my uncle was
the chief. We were having dinner when he came in there. The sisters told him to go eat, that they
would feed him what the father was eating. He said no, that he would eat with the children. They
gave him what we were having. He looked at it and said, “You mean this is the slop that you are
feeding these children? The government is paying lots of money per child each month, and this is
the slop you’re feeding these kids? Here, you eat it!” After that, they really tried to cook good
food. They fed us potatoes, fish and roast. They didn’t want the chief to come back in there and
eat the slop that they were giving us. Before that, they fed us scraps from their food. They’d
leave it in the pantry for days then they’d re-cook that and feed it to us. They’d just mix
everything together. They’d put vegetables together in one big pot and mix it all together. We
didn’t know what it was. We weren’t allowed to eat moose meat because it wasn’t government
inspected. We had fish on Fridays. The only time we had a good decent meal was on Christmas,
with the turkey and stuffing and everything, and dessert. All that was good, but it was only once
a year.
There are some people who just dislike others for no reason. Even if a little girl tries to be nice,
they dislike her so bad that they are just constantly after her. “Do this, do that” – it’s ridiculous
the way those sisters treated those girls. Especially if there was a loner who didn’t have a sister
or a brother, or someone that was slow in learning – they’d bang her on the head – it was just
ridiculous. You can’t blame a person for being a slow learner. They have to learn gradually, you
can’t expect them to be so smart in just one second. But the nuns expected everything to happen
right away. There are some people who you can tell are slow learners, so you try to be nice to
them, you try and help them. But they (the nuns) didn’t. If you tried to help them, you were told
to let them do it on their own. They were mentally abused. And the way they swore at us in
French. When you keep on hearing those same French words, you gradually learn that they are
dirty words.
There were lots of guys who were sexually abused by the nuns. I haven’t heard any of the girls
complain about being sexually abused by the Father or anything. Some of them probably did, but
you just never heard it. When I was there I never heard of anybody say they were sexually
abused. I can’t really say that I saw it, because I thought I saw it in a dream. To me it was a
dream. I was sick that day, and I could have been delirious. I thought I saw four boys come out
of one of the sister’s rooms. I can’t say for sure – I could have been delirious and just dreaming.
To this day I can’t tell if it was a dream or if it was real, I just can’t tell. I heard lots of kids say
that they were sexually abused at earlier ages, but in my day I didn’t see nothing like that.
We used to have fun too. Sometimes I would work in the bakery with two other girls and we’d
have a good time. We would go to the lake in the winter, when the boys were playing hockey.
There were teams that would come from Valleyview and High Prairie to play against the boys on
the lake. All the girls were allowed to go down there and cheer them on. We had on our winter
jackets, our moccasins and our winter socks, and still we were half frozen by the time we came
back. We would be there for about two or three hours watching them play. It was a sight to see.
We were allowed to go skating, too. We were skating with the boys’ skates. We weren’t allowed
to go swimming in the lake at summertime, though. The only time we were allowed to swim was
at the picnic at the farm, where there was a little stream, and they used to leave us with our
bathing suits when we were there. That was the only place we were allowed to swim. We were
never allowed to go in the lake. The boys and the girls were allowed to swim together at the
farm. We could play anything we wanted to at the farm when we were picnicking. The boys and
girls used to slide down the bales of hay, play ball, anything we wanted to play. We all got
together – there was no thinking that we were boys and girls. We were just happy. There was no
dirty stuff in those days. We were just being boys and girls.
We were allowed to cook whatever we wanted to eat. Some of us were selected to cook for the
other kids, so if we poisoned them, it was our fault and not the nuns’.
The boys were allowed to play guitar in the mission. They’d have concerts, where you’d play
whatever you knew how to play. If somebody would sing a song, they’d play the song for that
person. Lots of boys used to play guitar.
RECOLLECTIONS 75
Lawrence Badger - A star was born
They used to call your name, and you’d have to go up and sing. There was no being shy about it.
We used to watch movies on this great big screen. You paid 25 cents to get in, just to go see a
movie. My mom used to give us a dollar, and we’d pay for the movie and pop and popcorn. A
dollar used to last us all evening at the movies. The movies were usually Randolph Scott movies,
or The Man with the Iron Mask, or Bionic Woman. They were nice movies, not like now. Now
in the movies, it’s all sex. It was really nice to watch those movies.
SHARING CIRCLES 77
SHARING CIRCLES
The preferred format for telling stories was the sharing circle. This entails having everyone sit in
an unbroken circle and traditionally the person holding a traditional object such as a stone,
feather or other such object has the floor and can speak to whatever is on their mind. The other
group members listen respectfully until the speaker is finished and passes the object on to the next
person. In our sharing circles because of our desire to share our stories with others, the speaker
held a small tape recorder so that the stories could be transcribed. This is one of the circles in
which people reminisced about their history as a community with the Mission school.
This group reflects upon the pain of being called savages and having their parents described as
drunks who were worthless. It touches upon the parents trying to hide their traditional spiritual
practices when the children came to visit in the summer, for fear of being reported to the
authorities and being punished. Once again the theme of constant work, with the boys working
on the farm and the girls completing domestic work such as sewing and cooking. It was clear
that their future roles would be limited to that of domestics or farm workers, as few people in
authority saw them as capable of anything else. A tremendous lack of understanding is
experienced with such problems as bedwetting, where humiliation and extreme measures such as
dunking in cold water were applied. Medical care even for serious injuries was not available,
resulting in death for some and permanent handicaps for others. All in all, the experiences bring
for a feeling of worthlessness and lack of respect by their caregivers. When asked about the
positive elements of their experiences, the most that this group could muster was that it made
them stronger, so that they might survive the vagaries of the life that awaited them. The
conversation also touches up the loss of attachment being parent and child, as institutional life
interrupted normal parenting activities, to the point where one participant relates her desire to
rid herself of two of her children so she might be freed up to pursue her own desires. A feeling of
powerlessness is evident as the participants describe the infamous clapper that ruled their lives
and the control exercised by the Indian Agents and the School over them and their parents.
Amazingly, in spite of, or perhaps because of , these painful experiences, the participants can still
call forth a powerful sense of humor that helps the lessen the tension and pain t eat these
memories evoke.
You moved around a lot. Parents followed the work. So the kids who had to be in school were in
Joussard at that time but you are saying now that the Sturgeon Lake School was still here but it
was a day school only.
In my time the baby class was the first school and the second class was Grade 3, 4 and 5 and the
third one was 6, 7 and 8. Upstairs the boys used to sleep up there on one side. And later when
we finished our Grade 8 at 14 we learnt how to be homemakers and we used to have sewing
machines up there where we’d make all the kids clothes. I remember one time Florence, Lena’s
mom, was told to cut out undershirts, flannelette undershirts, and she wasn’t paying attention.
She was just cutting and cutting and cutting and when she took them apart they were all cut in
half. They were supposed to be whole.
So when the girls were doing homemaker, learning that kind of stuff, what were the boys doing?
They were learning how to work outside in the garden because they raised their own garden and
chickens and everything. So they were learning farming.
You were saying earlier, when you were saying about the alcohol, how that started affecting
things. It sounds as if it was almost around the 60s, early 60s. Because that’s when they had
what they call the sixties scoop and children got taken into child welfare.
I think it was around that time. I think I had moved over there already. Because I remember two
stayed with me. Then Dave used to stay with me, just two of them and the rest were over there. I
was over there already. That was the time I wanted my children to be taken away so I could have
more time to myself.
So before lunch we were talking about Sturgeon Lake residential school being a place for kids in
need. Something was going on in their families so then Joussard took over that role and some of
the kids were put there because they were having some stuff going on, or their folks were moving
around a lot for work or whatever which is also part of this history because I remember in the old
times too some of the people would be gone all the time trapping or whatever.
In that time you had to send your kids to school. It was not if you need to send them or send them
while you are moving. They had to be there. Kids had to be there at the mission in September
otherwise you got in trouble, even if the family stayed around all the year.
I remember my dad used to work for farmers all over and we used to move our horses and we
missed two months and an agent came looking for us all over. And she found my mum and dad
where they were and they brought us to live at school.
Indian agents have a lot of power. Just like child welfare workers, in some ways, or social
workers in a different way. What they were called doesn’t describe what they really were. It’s
just somebody who gives or feeds you. They give you your rations and social workers give you
SHARING CIRCLES 79
rations but they are going to take your kids so they are going to look for them. So it’s like they
are Indian agents.
I think after a while families got used to not having their children and they didn’t take full
responsibility and the bonding wasn’t really there so that took a lot of responsibility from parents
and they were used to not having their children. But that’s why they’re suffering because there’s
no bonding.
Being at residential school ... parents of residential schools didn’t have the parenting skills that
they had like raising their own families at home.
You watch your mum and dad what they are doing and then you do it but if you are never there....
And that’s where they lost respect for their parents.
I’m not affectionate, eh. I’m not. Well I love my kids and everything, but I’m not affectionate to
go and hug or whatever. Like I’m not, because we’re missing . . .
We weren’t allowed to do that [hug] in the mission or even hold hands; even with your best friend
you couldn’t do that. It was a sin.
You can’t even say it because it wasn’t said to you. Love was a forbidden word and it’s such a
beautiful word today but it was not said to us.
The one we were supposed to love was God but it seems like it’s the wrong word.
The only times we were with the boys or anything like that was in school and even in school we
were separated. The girls would sit in front and the boys would sit in the back. We were always
separated. It seems like there was no bonding. You were alone in the convent and when I started
school we went home only 3 times, for a day at Christmas and New Year’s I think and just for the
summer.
That’s what happens like when you don’t understand. It’s like you mix the languages, the Cree,
the English and the French and you make one word out of all three. So they didn’t really teach us
anything. They took away our language. They were French and they tried to teach us in English.
We make our own words now.
So even if your parents were living nearby, you weren’t allowed to see them until Christmas?
They stayed 10 months.
There was no contact at all, hardly. In the winter months it was hard for them.
Two days out of the 10 months you went home to visit your parents.
That’s worse than prison.
It was worse than prison.

We had certain times to talk, certain times to go to the bathroom. There was somebody up there
we would get a spanking or whatever. Wet their beds. Can’t go to the bathroom at nights.
The discipline was very, very strong. Very harsh.
I remember there used to be somebody that comes around checking the beds and if you were
sleeping they came and checked under your bed. If you pissed the bed and if you did you had to
get up and you washed the sheets and then you go and stand in line....
... Until the morning, yes.
And what I didn’t like was you had to line up to go to the bathroom. There were pails there,
about six, and you would line up and all the people are lined up and you have to go right in there.
There were six pails on the floor and the lights were on. There was no privacy and then another
thing too. You had to be clean. You had to show your bloomers. You had no paper in the toilet.
That just reminded me, I experienced that. That’s degrading a human being actually.
Your bloomers, every night, and we had no toilet paper.
Margaret, who’s going to be clean if there is no toilet paper?
Catalogues.
You always got a square, two squares.
But us, we didn’t have any. We had catalogues.
There were no newspapers. They’re a little softer but we didn’t have any.
No catalogues, well we had grass or leaves.
And yet we had to go show our panties.
Not panties, bloomers.
You know something? You could make an album of it for the kids to see what they went through.
Write a book or do something because it’s important.
They don’t realize how hard we had it and they think we are just neglecting them. We just don’t
know how to show our affection to them. We don’t know how and that’s hard.
Are the children learning to be affectionate?
Oh, yes. Now it is but then another party steps in and now you can’t discipline or correct your
children. When you do [try] you get another form of abuse now. They call it abuse. And it isn’t
abuse when you are trying to discipline your children and some of the children they take
SHARING CIRCLES 81
advantage of it. They turn it around to their own advantage and then they admit not knowing that
it is discipline.
Like at one time it was okay to physically punish children and now the law says it’s wrong.
Not to over do it but . . .
Like when I was growing up I was told by my parents not to hit them with your fists you had to....
And never hit them above their legs.
If you did something wrong, your parents told you to go get a switch and switched you.
Sometimes by the time you got your switch and brought it back, everything was forgotten or
forgiven. You didn’t get switched but you learned something from that.
Our Sisters had a ruler.
On our knuckles.
They would clap their hands and we had to jump up.
So what was that?
It was called the clapper.
If we were talking or anything...
It was a signal.
It was made of wood.
One little thing like laughing and that was a signal you had to get up. You had to get down ... if
you’re playing and they clap at you, you had to stop talking right now.
If you were playing outside in the yard and you heard that clapper you had to come rushing in.
Like a little bell.
It’s like being in the army.
They used to use that on our knuckles. Some of the good ones here, but us bad ones over there.
So it was a signal thing?
Yes and a weapon.
There was no talk?
That was our communication with the nuns. And then another thing, if you didn’t listen to that
clapper and you kept on talking, you had to go stand in the middle and the kids were right around
[you]. You had the notice and you had to stand there until you asked for pardon. If you didn’t
quit then you had to go stand there. Or if you were fighting or arguing you had to go stand right
in the middle.
How long did you have to stand there?

Until everyone had asked for a pardon.
So how did you do that?
Until you were tired of being stared at or standing there. Some were stubborn and they would
stand there for weeks. They [would] only go to school or for dinner and then they would return to
stand there.
If you didn’t ask for pardon, you didn’t go to the movies, didn’t go to play, just standing there
until you did.
So what if you were not guilty in your own mind? For example, you didn’t hear the clapper or
something and you weren’t guilty so you’d stand there and stand there but if you said pardon me
then you were admitting to what you were accused of even if you weren’t, right?
[Even] when it’s not your fault that something happens or it was an accident, you still had to go
and ask for pardon.
There was no mixing. You had a number from the tallest, then you went down that way, all the
way down and you had your place. You had to go sit there. Like the number 1 had to go sit over
there and they just go on like that. It didn’t go by ages, it was size. You had a number. When
they gave out your clothes, they just called out the number and you had to know your number so
you could pick up your stuff.
Did you have the same number all the time, or each year?
No. [It was] different every year. Because it was [determined] by size and not by age.
Even with the beds, you used to have three rows, eh? Bigger ones over there, small ones here,
and middle size over here. You had to sleep sometimes with your hands like this [outside the
blankets]? Do you remember that?
SHARING CIRCLES 83
You had to sleep with your hands like this and we all had to turn one side. We couldn’t face each
other so we had to turn all to the one side with our hands this way.
If you put your hands like this between your knees here. They used to consider that dirty.
If they didn’t see your hands?
They would check, yes.
We had it easy, eh?
So everything was controlled. You couldn’t sleep anyway you wanted, what ever position you
wanted. You couldn’t go to the bathroom when you body needed to go. They assigned you times
to go. You had to get up when they assigned you, what you spoke, they controlled.
They controlled our religion. They kind of more or less forced the Catholic religion on us and
they didn’t have to. We believed in our religion and it was different for our culture and
[according to them] it was bad. The nuns taught us what was good and what was evil. The
dances and feasts were evil. We were worshipping a different God. There’s only one God but
they invented another one, I guess, for us.
And even when we used to go home for the summer the older folks like my dad, they used to do
that in the Indian way. They used to send us to bed. So we don’t know anything because they’re
scared they’re going to hell. So that’s why I don’t know anything. Because if I told on them,
well sometimes as a kid without meaning to, and the cops could come over here so they didn’t tell
us anything.
Well even later on like people used to play cards. They used to be even scared of playing cards,
eh? As soon as the cops came around, everybody would run.
We lived in such fear. When I’m listening to this, I now realize how everything was so fearful.
We couldn’t chew gum, yet they sold it. They used to put it on the hair or here [pointing to nose],
and you ended up with sores after a while.
Why did they put it there?
Punishment! Because you were not supposed to chew gum.
I remember Martha’s sister ------ used to wet her bed. The Sisters used to put a cardboard behind
her back. I don’t remember what she used to write, “Wet Bed Dorothy” or something like that.
She used to have to wear that for a long time. Not only her but others of us [who] wet our beds
all the time.
They never checked what was wrong, or what the problem was. It could have been kidney
problems or dysfunction or whatever. They didn’t check these things out. They punished you for
wetting the bed. Getting up early in the morning and standing there.
So when this was going on, this is the girls, were the boys checked by the nuns too or did men
check the boys?
No, nuns checked the boys.
So that kind of doesn’t make sense. They are trying to separate the boys from the girls.
It would be interesting to see how the boys were treated compared to what the girls were.
Well some of them had it rough too I guess.
I’ve heard some of those stories from older men, [about] how they were treated. One example
was like when they were yanked out of bed in the middle of the night and dipped into ice cold
water and forced to stand in the corner bare naked in front of everybody for a day. It was just
horrible. This older fellow was telling me that it happened to him. I think he was at the Joussard
mission and he said he ran into one of the nuns who used to teach in there. She was in the old
folk’s home in High Prairie. This was years later. He was already in his 50s by then and this nun
saw him come into the old folk’s home and she said, oh, my son and she was trying to be all
sweet and nice and thought he would be happy to see her. He said he looked at her and he just
SHARING CIRCLES 85
froze and she came up to him and he said he slapped her face. He couldn’t help himself; he had
[kept] all that hatred and anger in him for so many years [that] he just couldn’t control it. It’s just
awful the things that [could] cause a person to do that to a nun.
I know where I used to live down east, there was a lot of orphanages and they were run by the
priests and we used to play hockey and sports with them and you’d see quite a few of the boys
going around with wet underwear tied around their necks like a necklace. They used to do that to
the boys who wet the bed.
Sure we could have said no when they disciplined us that way, but we thought it to be normal and
that everybody had to go through that. If we refused to do anything then we were punished in
more severe ways. Sure, you could wash your blankets and whatever you had to wash but it
doesn’t stop then. So we had to give in. We more or less had to or it would go on. It was worse.
What would happen to a child that had something wrong with it, but wet the bed?
At first they used to wash and they would stand up in there but if it didn’t stop they had to wear
this thing, like she said [earlier] but they never checked for medical reasons. It wasn’t their fault
but still they had to suffer because of that.
It’s like you had to give up your will to survive, I guess.
Yes. And another thing too when we used to get sick and everybody used to get sick, do you
know what they gave us for our medicine? Crème de menthe. Like a cough syrup.
Some of them gave brandy though too.
Cod liver oil.
You probably had it in capsules, they had it in liquid.
We had a bath once a week. And yes, you had to go. Everybody took turns.
Was it from youngest to oldest?
I think so, yes.
I grew up with that too, I was the oldest of six girls so I had the dirty water.
They used to have their favorites to pick on too. They picked on the same ones. I don’t know
why they done that but...
I think most of the nuns would be in jail still if they had that for abuse. They would all still be in
jail.
They used to pick on me because my name was ------. The priests and the nuns didn’t like it.
They liked me; they actually didn’t really pick on me either.
How much religion was practiced? Was that a daily thing with prayers?
From 5 o’clock in the morning to 8 o’clock at night! We used to go to bed at 8 o’clock.
You used to get up first thing in the morning and get on your knees, then you’d go to breakfast
and you had to say a prayer then. After breakfast, you’d go to school, then you’d pray there for a
while, then you had Catechism, every time before you leave, after dinner, it’s the same thing.
Dinner time. After dinner, after school in the evenings you would say your rosary.
And benediction . . .
Yet they never taught us what the bible really was about.
No bible.
No, you never saw a bible, only theirs what they carried, but they never passed the bible around.
So how could you love somebody? They were telling us you have to love God, not knowing who
God really was. Can you really trust in God? And then they declared themselves as serving God.
God’s people and we weren’t. We were....
So they were telling us that they were God’s people and the way they were treating us, how much
could you love God then?
Remember Sister ________? She was a native nun. And she had asthma. So these two sisters,
who they had their bedroom in our dorm, eh? And they put her over here because she had
asthma. They used to get mad at her because she was a native and she used to cough. I used to
feel sorry for her. I hope they suffered before they died. If they’re dead. They probably died.
I know she used to think herself so good looking!
How did she come across that way?
Well the way she ran the staff, it wasn’t just physical abuse, it was verbal abuse. She used to
have names for everybody. I remember giraffe and butching or whatever they called it. All kinds
of names for girls, different kinds of names, they never even really used our names.
Because the way she acted. You know,’ I’m good looking!” And she used to iron, what you call
those? Garments? She used to iron hers real high. The others used to lay flat and hers also so....
and always smelled good.
But Sister ______ was not that good looking. But I really got her one day. You couldn’t read
comics at the time. Well, we did but just Flicks the Cat and all those, no westerns. But the boys
used to read these western comics. They could. So Ronnie, he used to lend me some on the sly.
So he loaned me one and I got caught. So Sister Lawrence took that comic away and she put it in
SHARING CIRCLES 87
her bedroom. During the night I snuck in her bedroom and I forget which one, maybe Felix the
Cat, I went and traded it because I was scared of Ronnie.
You know that procession we used to have? Was it before Easter? On Good Friday, yes.
They say Jesus was crucified when he died, on Good Friday, the priest used to prostrate himself
in front of the altar, like he was dead.
And then one time he really fell asleep, he was snoring away there. We didn’t know what to
think, the first time we saw it.
So what happened then, when he fell asleep?
1960 anniversary of priests
I don’t know. Somebody woke him up I guess.

They should have had the clapper there!
So they were like those Spanish dancers . . .
Something like that.

Castanets?
Yes, but they were rectangle.
Did they have a leather hinge on them or something?
No, wood. They were hollow inside and at the end they would clap.
What about the priests all this time? All the Sisters were like this, what about the priests? What
were they doing?
Nothing!
They just hung out while the Sisters did all the work?
Some of them were bad. They were administrators for Indian Affairs.
How many priests?
Two, and then we had Brothers.
The Brothers used to work the farm land.
Brothers Dugas, Mathis and Deshaies

They were the ones who trained the boys then?
SHARING CIRCLES 89
What about that other fellow that used to come here, I remember? Do you remember him? The
hired guy.
There were lots of them.
What did they do in the gardens? Provide the food for all the kids for the winter?
Yes. The kids used to plant all the spuds.
Who used to take care of it during the summer, when you went away?
The Brothers I guess.
They were there year round.
We had to dig them and separate them too.
The root cellar is still there, but I guess it must be filled in.
There were men there, with the priests, the brothers, and the hired man. The females, there was
the nuns and they had hired women.
But that was in later years.
They didn’t have any when I was there.
The girls did the laundry, the ironing, and their clothes.
Oh, the Sisters clothes?
Yes, and the priests’ clothes, all the ones that worked there.
I remember that Father had a house there.
We used to have to go clean that house and the church after school.
Once a month we used to change assignments. The kitchen, the bakery, and the church.
When I was about 11 or 12 years old and working in the bakery I was by myself with a baker and
I was cutting ... before school, this happened before school. When you got up you go to church
and then we would go in for breakfast, then you had to do your chores before school. And you
couldn’t play, you had to work. So anyway when I went in and started cutting my bread and
Annie was doing the dairy. She had to prepare the milk and separate the cream from the milk.
The milk didn’t come in right away so she said I’ll help you and we’ll get yours done and you
come and help me or I’ll be late for school. She was getting worried that she would get in trouble
if she didn’t get the milk done and it had to be prepared at that time so it would be ready for
dinner. Anyway where the bread came out, it flipped over so the bread got stuck and I said hold
this for a minute and I’ll straighten this out and I did straighten it out but a big blade came down
and it cut my fingers off like this [showing fingers]. When you lost your fingers, did they take
you to hospital?
Yes, they did. The thing is when you needed them, they were never there. But anyway when I
cut my fingers Annie just froze. “Go, she said!” So I grabbed my hands and I was looking for the
nun, and you have to go to a certain one, you can’t just go to (just) any one. Just the one that was
responsible for us. So I ran up to the second floor and she wasn’t there. So I went up to the third
floor and there was nobody there so I ran back down and here she was in the basement just two or
three doors down. She was in the dining room and finally I said I cut my fingers. I didn’t even
want to open my hand. She said, “Well, let me see.” and I said, “Well, I cut them off.” So she
finally took me to the pharmacy and from there they tried to fix it and then they rushed me to
High Prairie. But I blacked out because I lost too much blood. There was never any sorry you
know, or any compensation or even them saying well we shouldn’t have put you in there.
Wow, 11 years old. I can’t imagine.
And it affected me for a long time. Cause nobody ever really told you. I thought I would never
get married because “who’s going to put a ring on this finger?” Then I found out it was the
wrong finger. But when you were a kid, you have these thoughts. “I’ll never be able to use a
typewriter; I’ll never be able to play an instrument. There are lots of things like that that
happened. That’s just my story.”
These things, they gave us chores like that. The boys ... it’s not just physical abuse or mental
abuse. They were people who’d lose their fingers. I got burnt one time and now my legs are kind
of, I don’t know [showing burnt legs]. There are lots of things that happened to kids in school.
And do you remember, you had a leg you couldn’t walk on and you missed a lot of school.
Yes, they kept me upstairs in my bed for about 2 or 3 weeks. I banged it on the cement going to
the school. The boys had a wood building and it had cement all around and I had to walk by there
to school, and I slipped, and they kept me there for 2 or 3 weeks and my knee was just... Her leg
was green, all kinds of colors.
SHARING CIRCLES 91
Lena Standing Ribbon at a Community Dance

Or what happened to the really, really sick kids? Did they not allow them to go to a hospital?
Well there’s quite a few of them that died in there too.
We weren’t really always sick or anything.
No, not in my time.
It’s just the ones that had T.B. but they sent them away to Edmonton.
There was no hospitals close by at that time, so they had no choice. The sick kids were kept in
the infirmary and that’s where I was for a long, long time because I was very, very sick.
They took her to High Prairie hospital and she must have got infection because they sent her to
Edmonton but it was too late. Her parents didn’t even have time to see her because they were out
in the bush. By the time they got here she was gone to High Prairie.
She was forced into a tub of hot water. She knew the water was too hot, yet they forced her in
there and she burned by sitting in the water.
How old was she? Maybe 7 or 8.
How did people deal with that? I don’t really remember.
And even our tonsils, lots of us ... I had mine taken out. I don’t know why.
Was there a general belief at that time that tonsils were not necessary?
I remember when I was a kid my cousin just went into the doctor’s office and he did it in his
office, just took his tonsils out, then went home right away.
And glasses too.
Yes, that’s true. A lot of us didn’t need glasses. I’m sure I didn’t.
That happened in the North West Territories too. They used to come in and put these eye drops
in their eyes to dilate the pupils or whatever and a lot of kids ended up having to have glasses
after that because Indian Affairs was paying for it.
Every Indian had glasses.
It’s like braces. When I had braces every other Indian kid I ever saw had braces. But then you
see that pattern over and over. You see it with doctors and pharmacies where they are prescribing
all the drugs.
People in their 30s and more are wearing braces.
In those days did they have very many people trying to commit suicide, like today when these
kids get under pressure that’s the first thing they go for?
I don’t think there was anybody who really wanted to commit suicide because you were afraid of
going to hell. You constantly had somebody watching over you and you saw everybody going
through the same thing so you knew you weren’t the only one. And then maybe after when you
disciplined you, you didn’t feel so guilty because you paid up and you went to confession.
I think what we will do now is go and find some good things so we don’t go away feeling like ...
there’s some positives I think and so we’ll do that and then we’ll just have a little closing circle.
You know this is good in a way because it lets you know what happened. You can go out and
buy all the books you want on native history but like one native lady told me that was written by a
white man. But like this is true, what we are hearing now. And it’s not a story from somebody
who wants to sell books.
For me, I really feel a lot of things were taken away from me but I can joke about it now and I
don’t dwell on it. I let my wounds heal. All that what happened made us stronger yet.
We need to stress that to the people for them to hear the good side of it because you learned a lot
in it and get stronger. There’s always a good side. To heal up the wound and not dwell on it,
picking on it and picking on it till it drives you nuts, you have to let the wound heal.
So your point, we need to get on with it and let our wounds heal.
SHARING CIRCLES 93
When you reopen a wound, it never heals, so just let it heal and look at the positive side of it.
There are a lot of things that we learned. We were taught cleaning so that we know how to clean
the house. They are not there to raise the kids and they don’t have the love that we should have,
we can clean, we can cook, we can make gardens and all those things. We can endure all kinds of
abuse and we can endure verbal abuse or criticism and you can stand those things and there is a
positive side and that’s what we have to look at.
Just like loneliness, when you’re lonely, you work at home and in the evenings go some place and
talk to people and expect them to help you.
I don’t know how this community is going to do it or what they are going to do about it. But part
of it is this kind of stuff, we should be doing and it’s a positive. We can talk about the negatives
what happened but on the other hand we can also look at the good things, just to keep a good
balance. Because there was some positives, like we learned to be stronger, more resilient, and we
learned certain skills there.
Mine? Discipline and what else?
You mean self-discipline? Yes.
You would discipline yourself, but I don’t know if you would call being run down and being
humiliated is self discipline. But there are things that stick with you and you are afraid. Fear
comes from the low self esteem. You are afraid to face people. I know I have that problem. I
was so shy but I still went to work because supporting my family was more important. I had to
go on, but a lot of times I couldn’t face people because you’d hear that just about every day,
someone being run down and hearing things like the nuns used to say daily, such as being a
sinner, a savage, dirty. There was a lot of stuff that went on. Peeing in front of everybody there,
that was degrading. It was. So we have that in us that we have to bounce back and I finally got
rid of my shyness but there are a lot of people that haven’t gone about that. When people are
drinking there is something that is bothering them that makes them drink. It could be right from
the convent because you were always ... you couldn’t really talk, like you couldn’t be outspoken.
If you were out of line with words, you were disciplined. You couldn’t even talk your own
language. Maybe some people haven’t had any counseling or don’t even care because they think
they are below dirt. Sometimes [when] you feel these things you think there is no hope for you.
But there is, that’s what they need, counseling. So there are lots of different kinds of healing, our
talking about convent and mission but you have to give the people a positive [message] for today,
healing for today. That’s how I see it. That’s just my opinion.
You know I go through this guilt because the Sisters would call me a savage. Your parents are
nothing but drunks and all this, so we ran away from there.
So they found us and they brought us back and gave us a long talk. And to top it off I wrote a
letter to my parents telling them all of this. They read my letter, they opened it and they said, you
can’t send this out because it’s more damaging when it’s written.
Well that’s what they did to me when I went to school in McLennan; they opened our letters and
read them. They read them all before you even got them? Yes, that was in McLennan where I
took my grade 9 and 10.
But still, the positives. Nina what were the positives for you?
The entire positive is that I am taking care of myself. I am going to counseling for low esteem
and guilt feelings. Even when I went to this Nechi training this past week, I felt that I was a big
dummy of all those people that had degrees and everything. When I see my children I still feel
guilty.
It is just like you feel ashamed to talk; everybody’s around you and you have to say what ever
you want to say and some of them just cry before they tell their stories. I didn’t go over there for
nothing, I was lonely and I didn’t have a place to go. I was drinking so I asked somebody and I
went to see them in Edmonton. I felt ashamed at first. I didn’t even want to talk, it’s like
everybody was laughing at me. I’ve been a drunk, spending all my money on booze and
everything like that, but after I talked it was different. I felt different. It’s like telling my stories.
I went there for six weeks. The first two weeks I would come home Friday just to find these
people drunk in my house. My Uncle Adam passed away.
You learnt lots of surviving skills [in the mission school.
Yes, sly ones too, to be sneaky.
We used to steal vegetables, put them in our bloomers.
They used to bring me bannock and I used to have beans and spuds and I mixed them up and
make a sandwich.
So positives from that experience of residential school or child welfare, whatever. Something to
go away feeling up. One word Nina.
I’m still learning how to survive.
SHARING CIRCLES 95
Self survival.
Flo?
Strength I guess. I can endure practically anything.
Colleen?
We didn’t have that experience.
From what you see and observe.
For me it is freedom, I wasn’t part of that experience and I’m thankful.
So you’re thankful for learning from your grandmother’s experience.
Seth (a visiting foster parent), how about you?
Well what I’ve learnt a lot is that you can buy just about any book you want but it will never
educate you the way these ladies have educated us today.
Is there one word for you that would tell these ladies what you have learned?
Well how strong they are.
And one positive from residential school.
I don’t know. Strength!
LOVE SOUP 97
LOVE SOUP
Florence Chowace
I feel the need to teach the young people today, they don’t understand the love that we have for
them and I think that they need to know that we love them, our children because they have been
affected by us not knowing how to show our love for them and today’s society to show our love
is buying them something and that’s not really what they need. They need the hugs and to hear
that we love them because we don’t know how. As soon as you try to hug somebody well you
feel bad, because it was not shown to us by our parents because they were not there and it makes
children think that they are not loved but they are but it’s us that don’t know how to show it. We
need to put that love back. I help my daughter Florence at the restaurant about 3, 4 days ago and
one of my nieces asked me what kind of soup it was and I said love soup. I made it with love.
And you should have seen the people that we had in there and need that soup, I need that love but
people are crying for it and little things like that makes a person happy. We were just amazed
with the people that wanted the love. You’d think that they didn’t but they do. We didn’t think
they were up there, they have a job and all that and the love that they want. The young of today
should know that they are loved. We’ll do anything for our children so they have to hear that,
from the elders, from their parents, and I think that’s one thing we should do first of all. The
parents are suffering too because they were raised without the love that they should have had and
that’s what took us away and that’s a negative and sometimes it hurts me because that’s the thing
that every human being needs and they don’t know how. I think sometimes we feel that if we tell
them that they might say well, what are you talking about? You never showed it. You are afraid
of that. You feel that still in here and that’s one thing that the convent took away from us. They
were never parents and they never gave birth to a kid.
A NEW VISION TAKES SHAPE 99
A NEW VISION TAKES SHAPE
The second stage of this journey undertook further consultation with the people of Sturgeon Lake.
The intent of this stage was to create a clearer and more community based vision of the kind of
healthy community that was desired by the Sturgeon Lake Cree Nation. The core of this vision
was rooted in the stories of the people in this community, related to their contact with oppressive
systems such as the Residential Schools and Child Welfare historically and currently. Therefore,
one of the necessary activities was to hear and to collect these stories. We were convinced that
by following this oral tradition, consistent with Aboriginal culture, community members could
begin to heal as the silence regarding the impact of residential school experiences on the Sturgeon
Lake community began to break. This helped to highlight the intergenerational effects that
interfered with the physical, emotional, mental and spiritual life of community members. We
hoped that it would create a spirit of reconciliation between community members that would
replace the legacy of physical, sexual, emotional and spiritual abuse left by the residential school
experience.
We came to more fully recognize the extent to which this experience had profoundly impaired the
political, ecological, and economic conditions of the community. The sharing by community
members of their residential school experiences generated painful memories of shame and
oppression, but it also generated positive memories of experiences that have contributed to a
spirit of strength and resilience. A core group of participants who met for 18 months came to
realize that that they had the capacity to help others and were prepared to do so.
Like Gandhi, the participants believed that they could release the chains that keep them prisoners
of their memories by first fully facing them and then by letting go of the past. We were
convinced that we could only recover from the trauma of the past by changing the conditions
under which we lived today. We came to the realization that while our problems are undeniably
real; many of them were created by our perceptions of the world. If we could change our
thoughts, we might be able to achieve a different reality, and that we could be the change that we
wish to see (Mahatma Gandhi).
This journey began with a desire to ensure the survival of community members who did not feel
secure as a result of their negative experiences with oppressive structures. By recounting their
stories, community members had an opportunity to reflect upon their earlier childhood
experiences as adults who now have a greater awareness and greater power, and who can deal
with these realities in a more purposeful way.
The community was seen to possess an innate wisdom that could be tapped by creating an
atmosphere of trust in which each member could be helped to feel valued for the special gifts that
they have been given. A core group of our members were trained as community counselors who
could share their experience of healing with others who had lived similar experiences.
By building upon these unique gifts, the community began to tap the deep wellsprings of its own
resources and strengths. Thus began the development of a collective community consciousness
of what needed to happen for the total community to heal. We encouraged the full acceptance of
each member for who they were and tried to promote a feeling of belonging and safety for all of
the participants in the forums and meetings that took place.
This phase of our journey aimed for empowerment through the sharing of our stories in a
supportive, safe environment that engendered the collective power and support of community
members. The intent was to develop a community based “wellness vision” through the sharing of
personal stories recounting past experiences and their subsequent impact on individuals and their
community. We envisioned a sharing process that would help counteract the effects of residential
school experiences and improve the spiritual, emotional, physical and psychological health of the
community.
A community needs analysis was conducted to achieve a higher level of understanding of the
issues that were of import to community members. We continued to gather community stories
from survivors of Residential Schools and their descendants. This was seen as an ongoing task
that would form the basis for all of the work that will take place in the course of this project. The
learning that occurred was intended in part to serve as a basis for the development of a course for
helping professionals that would increase their understanding of the residential school experience
and its impact on Aboriginal families and communities. Finally, a community counselor training
program was developed to train six members of the core group in the skills required to support
survivors of the residential schools from their community.
As the community members shared their experiences in the residential schools and their stories
were transcribed and shared with others, a greater awareness of the impact of the abuses
experienced in the residential schools upon individuals, families and the community as a whole
was created. This information was made available to community leaders who have
acknowledged that healing from these experiences should be a community priority.
Our journey was intended to help create a clear vision of the kind of community desired by the
Sturgeon Lake Cree Nation. We believed that the core of this vision was rooted in the stories of
the people in this community regarding their contact with oppressive systems such as the
Residential Schools and Child Welfare historically and currently. Therefore, one of the necessary
activities was to hear and to collect these stories. We believe that this formed a solid foundation
for the next phase of our journey. The following summarizes some key learning.
They see the results today in:
• The pain of abandonment
• The loss of culture and language
• Lack of parenting
• Lack of love experienced as children
• Inward pain
• Sickness of mind
• Imbalance of mind and spirit
• Emotional, physical, and sexual abuse
• Family breakdown
• Difficulty in creating and maintaining relationships
In addition, the following issues arose that need to be addressed:
• Some feel that the residential school issues are nothing but “old bones” that should be left
alone. They did not feel that talking about such things will help, and they fear that they
will simply resurrect painful memories.
• There are walls of mistrust and dishonesty between people.
• There is a sense of hopelessness among many.
• The residential school experience has stripped many of the knowledge of who they are.
• There is a fear of the police.
• There has been a loss of traditional sense of sharing.
• There is a sense of undue entitlement on the part of some people.
Traditional healing methods and the wisdom of the elders informed the process that was
undertaken. This helped to ensure that the wisdom and experience of those who have come
before us would guide us. It was hoped that the common sense of those who have suffered from
these painful experiences and who had since transcended this pain would give them with the
strength to be of service to those who have not yet reached this stage in their lives. Some
participants have found a safe place where they feel they belong and where they feel free to tell
their stories. They have come to realize that they have important gifts to share and are more
willing to assume responsibility for their own lives. Survivors build upon the inner strengths that
they discover in the healing process that has begun, in part, with a series of helping networks that
foster clear and helpful communication between community members. Self-help and
empowerment have become the community's primary goals.
We are seeking new ways to create a younger generation that is well prepared for life in both
worlds. As the seventh generation – the one capable of change, it is time to recognize and
support their leadership and empower them to create the change that is necessary if we are to
survive as a healthy people. We can do this by finding better ways to treat them as gifts of the
creator, and by supporting the family, the school and the community in nurturing, protecting and
guiding them. An example of how this is beginning to occur will be included in a description of
community theatre wherein youth from the community wrote, produced and presented a play on
community issues from their perspective to community members.
We hope to break the intergenerational cycle initiated by the residential schools by learning
healthier ways of relating to each other – in and between families, between peers and with our
community. One successful way has been by the creation of cultural camps in the bush for youth
and elders, where community members can connect with each other in a natural and relaxed
setting. A great deal of community support exists for the notion of bringing youth and the elders
together to reinforce a stronger connection to Aboriginal tradition and culture before this
generation of elders disappears. It is felt by many that the “baby elders,” who are heavily
involved in this initiative, will play an important role in this process. This generation is now
taking on the necessity to “parent their parents,” and carry a dual role with them and their
children.
It was felt that the best setting for this to occur is in year round cultural camps in the bush, where
youth would be outside of their usual environment and more receptive to some of the important
messages that need to be imparted to them. The camps could promote a greater understanding of
their history, the learning of the Cree language, traditional crafts, gathering and using healing
herbs, and traditional fishing, hunting and trapping skills.
Because some elders were considered to be afraid of change and lacked trust, it was suggested
that the youth could help to rebuild this sense of trust with the elders. More specifically, youth
related to a particular elder could be enlisted to approach that person to ask for their help and
contribution to this work. The following possibilities have also been raised in the course of our
meeting with community:
• Involve the community more greatly in determining the school curriculum. The
school curriculum could be expanded to help youth recognize family and
community behaviours that have resulted from the residential school experience.
The school curriculum could include traditional healing knowledge, as well as
the culture and history of the community to help inform and educate community
members about their rich tradition and to counter the negative effects of historical
oppression.
• Work with local nurses/doctors and an elder to teach youth the power of nature’s
hidden gifts (local herbs).
• Find ways for youth to learn more about the history of the community and to
gather the ancestral knowledge located in the collective memory of the elders.
• To continue the collection and documentation of stories to build a stronger sense
of community identity and cohesiveness.
• To finalize the documentation of the community healing journey in the form of a
book and film. This book is the final product of that intent and a film
documenting the Journey toward Empowerment has been well received.
• An appreciative inquiry approach to community development that seeks to build
upon community strengths and assets rather than working from a deficiency
perspective has prevailed. Community residents have identified the following
strengths as a starting point in their inventory of community assets.
Artistic Ability
• Music
• Singing
• Dancing
• Acting
Many community members are well educated.
• There are many smart people, whether or not they are
formally educated.
• The bounty of nature surrounding us could enable us to
be self-sufficient in the event of a natural catastrophe.
The community is known to welcome strangers and is open to
assistance from others.
• Talking circles should be instituted and hugging should be encouraged as a way of
communicating affection.
• Workshops should be held to educate professionals regarding the impact of the
residential school experience.
• Public education regarding the residential school syndrome should take place.
• We need to find new ways of healing from the legacy of pain.
• Provide forums wherein the elders can share within a climate of safety.
• Build trust among ourselves
- Identify the issues
- Deal with them
- Build healthier relationships
• Create greater visibility of the issue by such means as:
- Bring out the residential school pictures
- Find ways to describe and celebrate local history
- Bring forth the messages of the survivors
• Find new ways to come together and build community
- Community picnics
- Support the formation of women’s groups
- Explore new ways to have everyone contribute so the same people do not
always have to carry the load when they volunteer for the community
• Create a sense of appreciation for what people contribute to their community
• Create a loving community where we can learn to love nature, the animals and each
other
• Create hope
• Learn to own our behaviours
Community participants have identified the following outcomes that could result from
this project. These will guide the overall direction of this project and ultimately serve as
a set of indicators of success.
• Understanding
• Acceptance
• Feeling of self-worth
• Capacity to accept compliments
• Learning to own our behaviour
• Learning to love nature, animals
• To see hope flow into our lives
• Finding ways to come together as community
• Respect
• Self-esteem
• A sense of belonging
The following specific outcomes were achieved to a considerable extent:
• Existing self-help groups for survivors were supported and maintained, and
additional support systems and helping networks established.
• Community members developed an increased capacity to generate creative solutions
to community and family problems and to the long-range issues that require attention,
as community problem-solving skills improved.
• Sharing circles invited representatives of the residential school systems, child welfare
systems and other systems that have been experienced as oppressive, to participate in
a process of reconciliation.
• Traditional cultural approaches explored and implemented.
• The self-esteem and feeling of potency of community members was enhanced.
• New training programs and workshops have been developed and implemented for
local people interested in the healing process, with an increased emphasis on the
rediscovery of traditional approaches.
• Survivors of the residential school system are participating in the delivery of a new
course for health and social services professionals that has been created to assist them
in working more effectively at a community healing level.
The development of peer support circles will provide an ongoing source of support to community
members that are expected to last long beyond the funded portion of this initiative.
An appreciative inquiry model of community practice has focused on community strengths, and
helping to create a legacy of positive approaches to the community. The development of an
attitude that views the community from the perspective of the “glass half-full rather than half-
empty” on the part of community members to view themselves as assets to the community who
can take their destiny into their own hands is the overarching stance of the community as it
continues its journey.
FIRST NATIONS’ I.R.S. 107
FIRST NATIONS' I.R.S. – Ron Soto
Lying, sleeping and entertained with visions of fancy, you are totally unprepared for what is to
occur in the next instant. A fire-truck goes by just outside of your window; bells clanging, horns
a blowing. Habitually, your first reaction is to rollout of bed, lazily made the sign of the cross
and murmur the soft repeating phrase, "Let us bless Him." you fully awaken and then realize
you're no longer housed in Residential School but back home in your room. Climbing back into
your warm bed, supine, I begin to wonder what my life in Residential School was really like.
How did it compare with certain other individuals’ experiences? How did those others cope with
the Residential School’s strict rules, guidelines, and life style?
Following are three related interviews, statements, and circumstance, pertaining to experiences
endured, and suffered, in what was known then as the mission life. This is one mission in life that
will never end for the memories linger on and on and on and on.
Its 6:30 a.m. the penguin coloured habit worn by Sister Michael nears Lena's bed. The sister
shakes Lena hard and whispers harshly, "Get up lazy bones; it is time to get up!” Lena realizes
she has left her blouse hanging at the head of her bed signalling that she plans to attend the early
morning mass. After dressing she must traverse the l00 yards from the girls’ residence to the
church, clement weather or not. This morning, the cold wind off of Sturgeon Lake snakes in and
around her bloomer clad thighs, arresting what little warmth she had been harbouring for this
trek.
After church services Lena trudges back to the girls’ refectory for her morning repast. Before
masticating on her seemingly daily ration of lumpy, tepid porridge, she must first imbibe in her
daily dose of cod liver oil. Lena asks herself again for the 1000th time, "If this stuff is so good
for me, why must it taste so bad?"
Repast over; Lena then endeavours to complete her daily chore. All of the girls have each their
own individual chores to do daily. These tasks could entail any chore; peeling potatoes,
sweeping, dusting, to emptying chamber pots.
Lena's favourite chore was that of decorating the sisters' chapel. Not only did she enjoy
exercising and exhibiting her decorative skills but it was also the chance for her to enjoy her daily
nip of the forbidden fruit; mass wine. She chuckles today when she ponders the amount she must
have pilfered throughout her years of nipping.
Lena hated the task of serving the priests in the main dining room. Crisp bacon, fried fresh farm
eggs, steaming hot coffee, sweet jams - oh, the aromas. She hated having to carry this food from
the dumbwaiter to the main table. She knew that when she finished this chore she'd be going
down to the girls refectory and sitting down to her lumpy porridge, powdered milk and the
proverbial yucky-tasting cod liver oil!!
Today, many years later, Lena still often wonders "Didn't someone actually care? Lena had had
suffered a serious knee injury, in a fall of her own making. After the injury, Lena said, "I was left
upstairs, alone in the girl's dormitory. It was a lonesome, hurting time. Lena’s knee had swollen
to mammoth proportions and had also turned a sickly blue colour. After three weeks of suffering
alone, she was finally brought to High Prairie for medical attention and treatment. She ended up
having to stay in the High Prairie hospital for a month. Today, Lena suffers severe arthritic
symptoms from that injury and since has had subsequent surgery. Her quandary is "why wasn't
the proper medical attention administered or addressed sooner?"
But, to Lena, her biggest and most tragic loss in her years of Residential School Tutelage, were
her parenting skills. She never had the gentle guiding hands of her parents or grand parents in her
upbringing, only the strict disciplinary regime of the Residential School format. As Lena was
growing up in this system, she was yelled at, punished for each trivial infraction. So when Lena
became a parent, she thought that since this was the way I was raised in Residential School, this is
the way I shall raise my children. Wrong! Lena and many of today's First Nation former
Residential School participants suffer from this bad parental syndrome.
Jenny was a rambunctious type of girl prone to antics and actions of the comical sort. Her
favourite prank was making faces at the boys when the sister (nun) wasn't aware of her actions.
Jenny fingers gingerly the tip of her nose as she relates of one incident when she was caught
chewing gum. Her punishment was to adhere the wad of gum to the end of her nose. This was
not the full extent of the punishment, Jenny also had to keep the gum affixed to the tip of her nose
for the duration of time that nun saw fit. Jenny said, "On that certain incident I had the gum stuck
on the tip of my nose for so long that a sore had begun to fester under that wad of gum." Today,
Jenny takes great satisfaction in the pleasure of chewing gum whereever and whenever she wants!
Jenny also remembers the morning pilgrimage through the wind, rain, and snow to church most
mornings for the 7:00 a.m. mass. Jenny didn't let the weather bother her - it was the drill of
marching, two by two, like little soldier girls she hated. Jenny used to think we're little ladies -
we don't have to march - not like those ugly boys have to.
Jenny remembers having the wool pulled over her eyes and it sure weren't her bloomers! She,
being rambunctious, was promised a reward if she'd behaved for one whole week, so she
behaved. When Friday finally arrived, Jenny was just about at wit's end in her anticipation of her
reward. The sister (nun) told Jenny, "Hold out your hand." Jenny complied. She looked into her
hand and to her utter disappointment; she had been given one peanut! Jenny was devastated; she
had been on her best behaviour for one whole week, all for one measly peanut!
Neither Jenny, nor any of the girls were allowed to have any contact with the boys, but Jenny said
they still managed to have long distance courtships. The most common place for flirting and
courting was done of all places in church. If a boy was interested in a certain girl, he called out to
her making a seeking, questioning throat clearing a-a-hem. If the girl was interested in the
questing boy, she'd be the one answering his beckon with her own sultry, sexy-sounding a-hem.
The sexier the answer the more the girl was supposed to care for the caller. This was the (a-hem)
method of declaring mutual interest in each other.
Jenny thinks to this day that all of the nuns must have all been graduates of "ear pulling school,"
because it seemed the nuns were so adept at this frequent type of punishment. Sometimes the ear
pulling was so severe there were instances of the partial tearing of the earlobe, at the base where
it joins the head.
One incident of cruelty stands out in Jenny's mind. It seems one of the girls had the misfortune of
wetting her bed. The girl's punishment - to stand, wrapped in her soiled sheets for the majority of
the day in front of the rest of the girls. What a humiliating and degrading experience the girl must
have undergone.
Jenny's biggest loss in the time she spent in Residential School was time itself. Time she could
have spent growing up attended and doted upon by her parents and grandparents. Never being
able to bring home school projects she had made, never having the time to show mom and dad the
‘A’ she got in Arithmetic. Time spent instead marching in two lines, marching two by two.
I personally have spent 10 years in the Residential School System. The first six years were spent
at the Sturgeon Lake Residential School. My final four years were spent at the Joussard
Residential School. It was there I spent my last year of schooling in 1964.
I look back fondly at the years in the Sturgeon Lake school for one good reason; Father Roué.
Father Roué is the epitome of the name, father. He was the father to all of his Residential School
children. In my opinion, if it hadn't been for Father Roué, we might have suffered worse or
maybe even to the extent of some of the horrific experiences told about other Residential
Schools3.
3 Although I talked to people who attended a Residential Institution, where they were
abused, they refused to be quoted in an interview. Some said it was better to let sleeping
dogs lie. Others could not speak to me because they were in the process of filing a legal
suit.
Father Roué
My personal quandary concerning the actions of the administrators of the menial and corporate
punishments in Residential School System still leaves me in a dilemma: who is really
responsible?
What was the government's true participation behind the Residential School program? The
federal government has always wanted to "whiten" the lifestyle and heritage of the First Nations
People. Here in the Residential School system, was the ideal situation and convenient means of
which to alienate the native peoples from their Elders, tongue, and customs. Did the government
institute with the religious orders (Anglican, Roman Catholic, United Church, etc.) these strict
guidelines in return for monies to be received for the running of these institutions (schools)? Did
the government ask them to wear down and destroy the First Nations native values through this
strict regime of discipline?
Somewhere in this system, these sometime inhuman atrocities must have been reported to the
authorities at one time or another. Yet no record can be found, the public was kept in the dark.
How come, only now, people are beginning to see the true light?
Were the churches pawns in the government process of the "whitening" of the First Nations
Peoples? Still, why did the Church have to use such drastic, hurting, lasting mental and physical
scars inflicted yesterday that will continue to have drastic and adverse effects on the First Nation
Peoples and their children for many moons to come?
Now today we of the First Nations understand why every spring most people fear the I.R.S.
(Internal Revenue Service). This I.R.S. taxes each of us on everything you have and own, and if
you don't pay your taxes, they take everything away.
We, the First Nations People also had an I.R.S. which has tried to take away everything we knew
and stood for. Our I.R.S. is the Indian Residential School. They tried to take away everything we
held sacred and dear, -- our heritage, our tongue, our beliefs, and our way of life, but we
survived!
Today, no bell rings its strident tone to awaken me - I sleep contented for I have paid my dues to
the I.R.S.
FLO’S STORY 113
FLO’S STORY
Florence Chowace
My name is Flo Chowace. My dad was Xavier [Muskiwenau]. That’s how he was registered
when he first registered. My mom was Isabelle [Galiette]. I don’t really know her history that
much, but I know that her dad was from the Alexis Reserve, and she never went to school. My
dad went to school for 4 years, so he was one of the first ones who entered residential schools
when they were opened. I don’t quite know their history at all, except what I know is that my
parents, before I went to school at 7 years old, they taught me how to liberate, I guess, to have
respect for my people, for everybody that is older than me. I learned that from when I started to
understand stuff, they started teaching me this before I went to school. To have respect and to
share – that’s in our culture – to share everything. In our culture I think that was why we ended
up losing most of our land, because that was the belief of our old people of long ago, that they
learned to share. They never took anything for themselves, but they shared our land, and now
we’ve got hardly any. We over shared.
I guess that’s why my parents started teaching me to share and not to be stingy and all that stuff,
and to have respect, and to obey elders. To obey what you’re told or what you’re asked to do,
never to just stand around, but to help people, and to help anybody at all. That was one of my
teachings from my parents and I understood that right from before I went to school.
When I first went to school, when they told my mom and dad that it was time for me to go to
school, I kind of knew what school was because my other brothers and my sisters before me had
all gone to school and I knew that they don’t come home. I didn’t really know my older brothers
and my sisters because I didn’t grow up with them from the beginning, because they were in the
school. When they were 16 or 17, then they lived their own lives. They’d go get married or go
away or whatever they did. One of my brothers was a soldier. He went to the war, and I didn’t
really get to know him. I never really did, then after he got married and had his own family, so I
don’t even really know my brothers and my sisters, the older ones. The younger ones I do – I
believe I’m closer to my younger siblings because I grew up with them a little bit more than I did
with my older ones. That’s one of the things about the residential schools is that the closeness of
the family and the bonding is taken away.
When I went to school, what my mom and my dad had taught me, I took in. And then when I
started school I didn’t know a word of English. I didn’t know what to expect, because my mom
never went to school, and she never knew what it was really like in there. So I wasn’t really
prepared from my mom. My dad had an idea, but he never really liked the idea of anybody going
to school. So when I went to school they were talking English, the first thing we did when I got
in there was that we were supposed to take a bath. They changed our outfits – they gave us
clothes to wear, they cut our hair. They put stuff on our hair, so that we didn’t give them all this
stuff. They assumed that every person had bugs and had sores or whatever. They all thought the
same. Even if you didn’t have bugs, they still put it on you. Half the time I was just following
everybody, because I didn’t understand. When they told us to “line up,” I didn’t understand what
“line up” was. “Sit down” – I didn’t understand that because my mom didn’t know how to talk
English. So the first thing I did was, to feel like a dummy. I thought I didn’t know anything. I
thought I was stupid, because I didn’t understand. In a way I think I started blaming my parents,
because they didn’t prepare me. When I first started going, by learning to respect others, when
they started treating you…not even asking to cut your hair and all that, and more or less stripping
you off. Just right away, they just change you right away. They give you other sets of clothes;
they wash you down as if you were dirty. When you don’t understand, you wonder “what the
heck is this.” To me, maybe there, at that time, I kind of blamed my parents – where are they –
how am I supposed to survive this, how am I going to go on. “I don’t understand,” I thought “I’ll
never learn anything.” They told me I was supposed to go in there and learn, but I didn’t realize
how bad it was. Anyway, I tried, and I tried hard to understand the words that they said. Even
when you talked to other kids they had to talk English, but sometimes they used to throw some
Cree in there. And if they got caught, they got scolded and punished, so they used to sneak in
FLO’S STORY 115
words, and kind of tell you in Cree. And that’s how I finally survived through it, I guess. Even
when we just started school, I was terrified because I knew that this was school and I didn’t know
nothing about it…I’m just standing there, being scared, not knowing the language. Going to
school was something that I wouldn’t want anybody to go through.
To begin with, some of our teachers were French – they had an accent – and they didn’t even
really talk good English. Coming from an Indian background, dealing with all these things – the
accents and all – sometimes I wonder how the heck we ever survived. It was hard. The first
years you were there, you were like a total dummy, stupid. And then a lot of times we were being
called stupid, I’m sure, because we didn’t understand.
There were others in there that were younger than me who, because their mothers and dads had
gone to school, knew how to talk English. That made me feel more stupid. How could they
understand English when I couldn’t? I became very shy and very stupid. On top of being called
“dark,” “dumb Indian,” “stupid,” “can’t you learn this, can’t you understand that?” my self -
esteem was down right from the beginning. I think that’s why I became a very shy person. I
couldn’t look at people. I couldn’t talk to people, especially white people. I could talk to my
own people in my language – I didn’t completely lose my language. I couldn’t talk to those who
were looking after us before and after school, because they were French, right from Montreal.
They couldn’t talk good English, so we didn’t really learn anything. They should have taught us
properly, and explained to us, and be kind to us, and then we would have succeeded in our
education. They didn’t push us to study. They were there to change us, not to teach us. They
should have educated us properly, and then today we would be more educated, so we could be
bilingual. We had the chance to learn French, and we should have had teachers to teach us
English properly, but they didn’t. They didn’t want to teach us French or anything. We could
have been really educated in there – we had the time! We had all the time in the world to learn
different languages, but they didn’t want that.
The things that hurt me most were the things that they stripped us of that – our identity. You
started hating yourself – they stripped you of your one set of clothes. If you had long hair, they
cut it off. They start stripping you right from day one, as soon as you go through the door. And
then they strip your language, they strip your beliefs. You’re taught to respect, but how can you
respect somebody when they are calling you down, when they’re calling you “dummy” or
“stupid,” and what ever else the call you in French. If I knew French, I could tell you all the
names we were called under the sun, because I know they called us down in their own language,
so that we wouldn’t understand. It seems like they were always mad, always angry. If I didn’t
get them mad, somebody else would, and it just went on. There was no love in them. That was
something else that they stripped us of is love – from our family – and there was none in there.
There was no affection there whatsoever. You’d get hurt, scratched or a gash on your head or
whatever, and there was no comfort from anybody, not from the ones that were in charge of you.
And anyway, the ones who were there, they couldn’t really express their feelings – they weren’t
allowed to really touch anybody – like it was a sin or dirty or something. There was no closeness
at all, even if you were cut and bleeding, and you’re crying as a little girl. There was nobody
there to comfort you at all. Then you start thinking “what kind of a world is this, what kind of
life is this?” You couldn’t understand them, even if they were talking nice, I didn’t understand
because there was nobody there to really explain. All the little ones were kept to one side – we
weren’t allowed with the bigger girls – we were separated, so we were all in the same boat, really.
That’s what I really don’t understand – it was so cold in there, everywhere you went. Even when
you went to bed, there was nobody there to tell you a story, nobody there…You just had to go to
bed. It was terrible. There were times when you got so lonely.
After I had been there for 2 or 3 weeks, I started blaming my parents, I think. What were they
telling me, to respect somebody who is calling me down, who is calling me “stupid” and “dumb,”
who is talking a different language. People were getting scolded and made to kneel down. I
didn’t know what kneeling down was, I had never knelt down before I went to school. They used
to make us pray all day – in the morning, before school, before breakfast, after breakfast – every
time you were going to eat, which is not a bad thing, it’s a good thing…but not by force. They
were forcing us – maybe if I knew what I was saying, maybe I would have had more respect for
their religion. But I didn’t. I’d be standing there and they were praying. I didn’t know what the
heck to say. We’d learn from others, but they were just reciting the thing. You didn’t know the
meaning whatsoever. They should have taught us. It was supposed to be a Catholic school. I
think they took away our spirituality. When you don’t have spirituality, when it’s stripped from
you…They would say of our ancestors “How could they have spirituality? How could they have
known God? They were pagans, with nobody here to teach them.” Then they tried to push their
religion on us. They didn’t explain – they said to go to church, to kneel down and to pray. You
prayed, not from your heart, you just prayed along with the other people. It was in Latin. How
FLO’S STORY 117
could you understand what you were saying? If you didn’t understand what you were saying
yourself, then how could God understand what was coming from your heart? Nothing was ever
explained. The only thing that was explained to you was that if you talked your language, you
were going to get punished – you’d end up standing in the middle for hours. That was the only
thing explained to you. Or if you got caught chewing gum, they put the gum on your nose for
hours, or maybe days. That was explained to you. If you talked back, you got punished – that
was explained to you. If you don’t listen, you’re going to get punished – that was explained. But
other things that should have been explained were not. There should have been somebody there
to teach you how to talk, to help you along. They never did that.
You had to follow everybody, from when you got up in the morning. If everybody was walking
downstairs, you couldn’t be walking upstairs. They would push you, make you turn around and
walk the way everybody else was walking. You had to walk that way everywhere, two by two,
like in the army. But I think they were better off in the army than where we were. At least in the
army they get to get around seeing the world. We were prisoners in our own land, our own
community.
They never explained anything good. They never explained why we had to give up our language.
They never said that we had to give up our language for a while, to learn English. We were just
forced not to talk it at all, and forced to talk English. That was one thing that was strict. They
tried, and some succeeded, in stripping us of our language. They stripped us of the start of life –
that’s where learning really starts is in the beginning of life. Some of our parents, the ones that
hadn’t gone to school – like my mother – were able to teach us. My mother wasn’t poisoned with
all this stuff. My Dad went to school. He was always quiet. He was a good provider – we never
went hungry – but I still blamed them in the first years, for sending me to residential school. I
can see now that my Mom didn’t know, because she never went to school. How she got away
with not going to school was because she was in Fox Creek, out in the sticks, so my Grandmother
didn’t want her to go to school, so she got away with not going to school. I consider it very lucky
for me. I see her as a successful woman – she used to make all the moccasins for the school. She
did all these things – she could survive out in the bush – she knew how.
When you’re a little girl, you get confused. You start school thinking that you’re stupid and
dumb and everything else. Everything that I learned in the first seven years of my life, before I
went to school – I dropped that. Why should I have respect for these people when they treat me
this way – cut my hair, strip everything off me, don’t let me talk my language, strip the love that I
had for my parents. I grew up kind of confused. Confusion came into my life at an early age. I
didn’t understand my spirituality. When you don’t have spirituality, you don’t have love, you
don’t have passion, you don’t have respect. There are a lot of things that you don’t have when
you don’t have spirituality. My Mom believed in the Creator, she taught us to try and be as good
as possible and to obey and be respectful, because somebody is always watching over you – I
believed that. To this day, I know there is somebody watching over me, or else I would have
never survived. When they stripped that – they don’t believe they stripped that, but they did. The
only way you could be right was to go to confession, and they forced that on you. Even if you
didn’t do anything wrong. After growing up there for two or three years, you had to start going to
confession and communion and all that. You had to go to confession and tell all the wrong
doings that you did – that they explained. Anything that you did wrong, you had to go and tell
the priest, you had to get forgiveness. Sometimes you didn’t even do anything wrong – you were
watched all the time – so that’s when I became a liar. You were forced to go in to the church and
make up your sins. You didn’t know what to tell them, so you’d make up sins. They also said
that bad thoughts were a sin – everything, anything. Even eating meat on a Friday was a sin. I
am studying the Bible now, and they were so wrong, so wrong. If they had explained the Bible to
us, but nothing was ever taught to us properly about God. If they would have taught us about
God the proper way, we would be better people, but they confused us more. Stripped of the
bonding with your parents, stripped of the love that you should have, the caring and the
spirituality, your self-esteem. You have nothing left by then. No hope. The only thing you were
hopeful of was when you would turn 16, so you could get the hell out of there. That’s the only
thing you look forward to be to turn 16 so you could get out. You didn’t look forward to an
education, or to other things in life, because you were never taught what you could be. They only
thing you were taught was how to plant potatoes and how to dig them out. And that wasn’t even
teaching you – that was making you earn your own potatoes. They didn’t even teach how to
properly plant a garden - that was never taught in there. They had the chance to teach us
properly. We could have been gardeners, we could have been florists or farmers – but they never
showed us anything like that. They only thing we knew was that they were stripping all those
thing away from us, and they made us very bitter. When you’re stripped of all those things, you
start losing respect for the one who is looking after you, the one who is supposed to be working
FLO’S STORY 119
for God. They gave up their lives to serve God, they sacrificed their lives for the Indian people,
they gave up all that and they did it for God. That’s serving God – to strip a child right from the
beginning, stripping them of everything. It didn’t take the whole Catholic Church. It took one
teacher, maybe two every year – the nuns who looked after us, and then the superior and the
priest. It didn’t take a whole army to change us, but they were very strict. They could have been
nice, but they weren’t. Some were nice. When you see others talking back or doing something
wrong, when you see them being punished, you feel sorry for them, but you can’t do or say
anything. I remember seeing one girl being beaten. She was against the wall, and the nun was
just beating her. There were maybe three of us there, and she had her head turned against the
wall, and she was kicking her, kneeing her in the back – just beating her. The girl was yelling
“Don’t!” Finally somebody must have run down to tell her sister, and her sister ran up and yelled
for the nun to stop, that she was reporting her. And then she (the nun) finally let her go. They
(the girls) were under a different program, social services or child welfare, so the nun let them go.
She (the girl being beaten) didn’t cry – she was so mad, I guess – and she must have been used to
it, too. She was beating her for so long – look how long it took for that girl to go downstairs, two
flights I think, then all the was down into the kitchen (where her sister was), then to come all the
way back again. But all that time, and even before I got there, she was beating her up. Only
when the other girl got there and said that she was reporting her, then she (the nun) finally quit.
You couldn’t do anything, because you got the same thing if you tried to stop them. The only
way this girl got the nun to stop was by saying that she was going to report her, and then finally
she just let her go. Some of them got beaten for such little things that happened – sometimes you
can’t help it, you never plan it – but things happen in there, and you’d get punished for an
accident. You’d get punished even if you wet yourself. Sometimes you couldn’t help it, they’d
only let you go at certain times… Sometimes you’d have more water, or have bladder problems.
Even when you were sick or had problems, you couldn’t explain that to them. Only when
everybody gets sick, like when everybody had the mumps and was falling down, then they knew
you were sick and sent us all to bed.
That’s another thing – if you were sick, there was nobody there for you. You were by yourself in
your dormitory. You had to be almost dead to not go to school, and there was no one there to
comfort you. Even when you’d lose someone who was close to you, you couldn’t even go to the
funeral, and there was nobody there to talk to you about it.
I think they did a lot of damage from day one, and those are the things that are affecting us today.
We don’t know how to express our feelings toward our children, our parents, our relatives, our
own people. The love that we should have had for each other was stripped. Our parents that had
gone to school before us, they didn’t know how to raise us right. Like I said, I was lucky that my
mother never went to school. But there are some parents who were maybe even worse off than
we were when they went to school. Things were a little better for us – we had washing machines,
electricity and water. The first ones who went to school there probably didn’t even have running
water. What they went through, I think, would have been even worse. I don’t know for sure,
because my dad never talked about it. He said “All I had in my mind was running away.” Finally
he did, because he only went to school for 4 years, he only went up to grade four. When I asked
him how it (school) was, he said “I didn’t like it.” He didn’t know how to talk English when he
went in there…He ran away and was brought back, but he finally succeeded in running away, and
he went in the bush. He stayed out there until he was 16, and then he came out. That’s all he
said, though, was that he took off from there. He never said why he took off - that’s all he said.
He used to read his Bible. I don’t know whether he was really trying to find out about
things…He used to go to church – we used to go to church in the summer time when we went
home – and my dad used to go with us. You could see that he loved us, but he had problems
expressing himself, giving us hugs and all this. Before we went to school, yes. But when we
came out for the summer – smarter, I guess – we were starting to learn broken English, and we
would say “This is how we do things in the convent”…and he would say “This is not how we do
things here.”
We thought our way was the right was, you know, it was supposed to be a better way. At the
convent they would say that this is how it is, their way was forced on us. Nothing was explained
– why we had to speak this language, believe in this religion – nothing was explained. You’d just
become a body, more or less, with no moral values. Everything is stripped, you’re filled with
hatred, and you feel prejudice. They degraded us in there by calling us names, that we were
savages, we were dirty, we were lazy, that our parents couldn’t look after us properly. How could
our parents know how to take care of people? “That’s why we’re here, that’s why we had to give
up our lives outside this place, to serve God,” that’s what they said…Then you’d feel bad, that
they (the nuns) were doing all this for you. But it still wasn’t enough. The way they degraded us,
it was terrible. We had to be woken up with a clapper – not woken up with “come on, it’s time to
FLO’S STORY 121
get up” – it was a clapper. We had to jump up right now, get on our knees right now. We had no
control over ourselves. Then, after you got dressed, you all had to go and wash up, all at the same
time. Brush your teeth, comb your hair, and clean up. Then you all had to line up to go to the
washroom, in front of everybody – no privacy whatsoever – everybody watching. That was so
degrading. When I think of it now, how could they have been so cruel? There was no respect for
anybody from them. Not even for you to go to the bathroom – they had to watch that. They’d
give you only so much toilet paper. It was so bad, so degrading. You still had to respect them;
you still had to obey them, even after doing that every morning, every time we went to the
bathroom. I used to prefer going to the outhouses – at least you had a little privacy there. It was
from 16 year olds right down to the little girls – it was so bad. Sometimes it just makes me
wonder, how could anybody be that way? Why did they do that? Who ordered that, I don’t
know? Why did they do that? There was no reason at all to enter into our privacy, to watch over
us even to go to the bathroom. How could they even imagine doing that? It degrades a person,
your self-esteem, to live a life like that. Every morning, every evening, you had to sit there in
front of people to go to the bathroom. There wasn’t even a curtain there, and it was a pot that we
had to go in, not toilets. They would have been better off to send us outside, even if it was 8 or 9
o’clock at night, even if it was cold. Why was there no privacy? You couldn’t even be yourself.
You couldn’t even sit there and enjoy when you had to go. It was terrible. That was French
white people who did that to us. Who ordered that? Did the government order it, or did they do
it themselves, so that they would have full control over us?
I think that why a lot of times we can’t do anything on our own, because everything was told, you
were even told when to go to the bathroom. How can you grow up to do anything on your own?
You wait for somebody to give you a little shove all the time. The way we were degraded was so
terrible. When you sit and think of it, it just boils in you – it makes you angry. How could they
be that way? How could they treat human beings that way? They treated those chickens and
cows better than they did us. Even when a dog was running around, everybody would try to pet it
– a dog even got better treatment than us. I bet we wouldn’t have been allowed to kick it – if we
did, then they would have just gone and pet it…How can anybody even start to think to treat a
human being that way? When they were entrusted with us, by our parents, to treat us right. But
they didn’t. They just mistreated us. They fed us, we had a clean bed – we cleaned our own beds
– we washed our own clothes, the same clothes all the time. The only time we changed our
clothes was to go to church on Sundays – we’d put on a hat. We grew our own potatoes…Come
to think of it, we really did it all ourselves. We had to mend our clothes if they were torn, we
cleaned our own bathrooms, and we cleaned everything. They didn’t actually look after us – we
looked after ourselves. They made us look after our own selves, by calling us down. As far as
people looking after us, and caring for us – I don’t think so. We could have been so much better
off if we didn’t go to school. We would have had respect for each other, loved each other, cared
for each other, and been there for each other. But they stripped that. We could have been better
people if they would not have interfered. We might not have talked English, but today I don’t
think we would be fighting. We wouldn’t be angry, the way that we are angry at the White race.
We might have respect today for them. But the way they treated us in there, I think we all
became racist. I don’t know whether we are or not right now, but when you really start checking
yourself out and thinking things back, it makes you angry. When it gets you angry, then
sometimes you get racist. If somebody says something, we get angry, we start rebelling within
ourselves. I think sometimes we don’t even blame them, we blame ourselves because we took all
this, we learned to take shit. We learned to take all those things that degraded us, all the things
that were stripped from us – we just let them have it. So sometimes we get mad at ourselves –
how come I couldn’t stand up for myself? – You start thinking of yourself as being a coward. So
there are all kinds of things that this created – it turned out bad. I don’t think it was a good idea
to ever enter the Indian in the convent. Sure they learned, but they didn’t really teach us the way
they should have. If they had taught us, we would have been bilingual; we could have had three
languages. We could have spoken fluent French and English, if they would have taught us
properly. If they would have allowed us the self-esteem that we started with, instead of putting us
down – humbling ourselves to the ground – I think we would have succeeded. I think we could
have pushed on for more education if they would have encouraged us to be professionals, to be
teachers, doctors, nurses. But they didn’t. If they would have taught us from the beginning, even
to be carpenters – now we’re taking carpentry here…but they should have done that when we
were going to school, right from the beginning. They could have taught us how to dress up, what
was out there in fashion. But we had these old clothes that were probably 50 years old already,
by the time we got them – they were just yarn on top of yarn, patches on top of patches. There
was no fashion. To curl our hair was only done towards the end. But they never taught us how to
dress up, how to be fashionable. There was no teaching. And encouragement? There was no
FLO’S STORY 123
encouragement of any kind for anything. Maybe the odd one would tell you “this is good.”
There were a lot of talented people there. A lot of them knew how to sew, but did they encourage
them to be a seamstress? We had the time in there – lots of people could have had different
careers. And to be parents, there was no teaching for how to raise your children – they should
have taught us how to care for and treat a baby. But there was nothing whatsoever about what a
baby was, how you should treat a baby or bond with a baby. There was nothing from them – they
were not parents themselves. They couldn’t say they knew how, because they didn’t have
children themselves. This went on for ten years. Ten of our most important growing years. We
were taught to be dishonest, there was no respect, and it was all those things, instead of teaching
us the proper way, encouraging us. We were never taught to be good citizens – just to do this and
do that, and all for their own benefit, not for ourselves. The everyday things, like getting in line –
that’s what they taught us. If you were a little bit out of line, they’d come and turn you – you had
to be right in line. You had no control over yourself. I sometimes think that’s why we don’t
strive enough – we were always waiting to be pushed around and told what to do. You couldn’t
do anything on your own. If you were to go ahead and do it, you got into trouble. You had to do
things on time all the time.
I didn’t know how to show my affection to my kids. I felt kind of like the nuns after a while.
When I first started having my children, especially my two oldest ones, I was terrible. I was
trying to follow the nuns. My house was spic and span – everything had to be clean and straight.
If my kids didn’t comb their hair - I remember one time I cut their hair, because they didn’t comb
their hair. I was very strict with them, until my dad talked to me. I didn’t really show emotion, I
couldn’t hug them. I did love them, but I couldn’t say it – I still have a hard time to say “I love
you” to anybody, because I never heard it. I just thought they didn’t need it (to be told I love
you), because it was never said to us. Even our parents didn’t say it, because they didn’t know
us. After you have lived in a convent for ten years, you’ve lost a lot of bonding from your parents
and other relatives – they didn’t know you. We were raised without love. I still have a hard time
saying “I love you.” Sure, I say it, but…Sometimes I’m kind of strict with them, but growing up
I was very strict with them. I’m not now, but before I was very strict with them, until I started
realizing that it was not doing them any good. I think it hurt them a lot. I could never express
myself. Even when they went to school, I think it affected them. Growing up with no self-
esteem and no encouragement, I didn’t really encourage them all that much. I was not involved
in their school and all that. I didn’t want to push them to go on, because that’s what I went
through – I was pushed, I was forced. So that affected my children – I didn’t push them, I didn’t
encourage them all that much. In my 20s and my teen years, I was starting to re-learn the world.
It’s a hard transition in your teen years. You start getting involved with other people, you start
having a family. You don’t really know how to act with other people when you come out of
there. It affected me, and it affected my children after that. I love my kids – they know I love
them – but as they grow older, it’s harder to express my real true feelings. I love my kids, but I
didn’t show them enough. I don’t know how to show it. I don’t know how to explain myself,
how I feel towards them, because I was never taught that. When they were young I showed them,
because I had that. But as they grew older, it was a different stage in life. It was hard to talk to
them about the facts of life, because you were never taught that – it was a dirty thing. Sometimes
it’s hard to know, when a person is being affectionate to you, you hang on to that, because you
think they are really caring, and the next thing you know, they’re not the right one, but then
you’re more involved. Some people probably know that they can get away with that, with a
young person, and then you get into the wrong relationship, just because you think “Oh,
somebody cares.” Then you end up in the wrong relationship, and it’s not planned, because we
were never taught to plan our lives. We were never taught to plan our education, encouraged to
go on. Sure some of us in the later years did, but we really never had any graduates, because we
were not pushed to go on further. Maybe you would have made a good doctor, or a good nurse.
There was nothing like that, ever, that was encouraged. Even to say “you’d make a good farmer”
or “you’d make a good mother” – but nothing like that was ever said.
ANOTHER SHARING CIRCLE 125
ANOTHER SHARING CIRCLE
I was two years old when I went into residential school. My mother died and my father couldn’t
take care of me. None of my relatives wanted a baby that little to take care of, so I was sent to
residential school with my sisters. I basically grew up there; I stayed until I was 16. I would go
home once in a while. When my sisters got married, I would stay home for the summer, or I
would stay with other relations. That’s the only time I learned about the Indian way of life,
because I was raised by nuns and priests. They wouldn’t let us speak Cree, but I learned anyway,
on the playground, I guess. I went to school, and then I got out and got married. There was a
little group, about the same age, who kind of all grew up together.
First thing in the morning, you had to jump out of bed and kneel on the cold floor to pray. It
seems like we prayed a lot. We prayed, and then we got up and washed our faces, then we went
downstairs and went to church and prayed some more, then went back and had breakfast. We
prayed before breakfast, we prayed after breakfast. We prayed before school – we prayed all day!
I remember when I first started school, they were teaching the Cree language then – I don’t know
why they stopped. They had it for about a year, but they didn’t continue, I don’t know why. At
first they taught us the alphabet, and you had to know your numbers. You had to talk English –
you were not supposed to talk Cree. But first you had to learn English, because we could not talk
it. And they always called you dumb and stupid – stupid savages.
Once, I was cleaning upstairs, and the nun told me to go downstairs and get Lysol. I thought she
asked for Lisa, my sister. So I went downstairs, got Lisa, who was terrified, and brought her back
upstairs to the nun. I said “Here’s Lisa,” and the nun said “Not Lisa! LYSOL! I said LYSOL!” I
got a big slap on the head for that. [Laughter]
One of the nuns, Sister Emma Margaret, she used to teach us arithmetic. Most of the kids were
stupid, really stupid, they couldn’t understand it. I think she made up her mind then that she
wasn’t going to teach it, because we weren’t going to learn. So she would make everybody take
out some paper - the boys were really good at drawing. She would get the girls to do beading and
everything like that. We would do that all day long – I don’t think we did any schoolwork
sometimes. We would spend all our time doing beading and stuff, so most of us were really
stupid – lots of us didn’t even belong in grade nine, but they would put you up anyway. The
school inspector would come sometimes, and then she (the sister) would teach us something
really fast, a bit of division or something. We were scared when he came, because he would look
at what we were doing, he would ask us questions. It was like that. I don’t know how they ever
put us into grade nine – maybe grade five [would have been more appropriate]. I couldn’t do
arithmetic – she never explained. When you got to the page you were supposed to be on, instead
of making you understand, she would go on to the next part. So many of us got lost way back
then, and we never caught up. She would give us books to read, and we would just sit there until
it was time to go. I was good at reading – I used to read all the time – I think most of us could
read. But she would scare us when the inspector was coming, saying that he was coming to see
what we were doing. But he was actually there to see if they were teaching the right thing. But
she put it on us that we had to be good and all that. That’s why she would jump ahead all the
time, it didn’t matter if we didn’t understand, and she would go on. You can see where our
education went – we learned nothing.
[Speaker 1] I think they didn’t have the patience, and they should have!
[Speaker 2] I think they had a schedule to follow, and if they didn’t do it, they would just hurry
along. Because they had to finish a grade in one year, and if they were too slow, they would
never finish.
[Speaker 3] I don’t think they held anyone back, they just passed everybody. I was behind, and I
didn’t even know it! First thing I knew, I was in grade 9! [Laughter]
We didn’t know anything, because the teachers weren’t doing their job, those nuns. Maybe they
weren’t qualified. They never explained anything. Even today, I’m very bad at what they now
call math, what used to be arithmetic. I always think that I would like to take a class in math, just
to understand it, you know? At my age now, I would like to do that. I would like to take some
kind of a course in math.
In the dormitory, there were three rows of beds.
There were 45-50 girls, and two nuns would sleep in the corner, with the curtain drawn around
their beds, one at one end and one at the other end. It was like a jail. You’d go to sleep, and then
they’d be walking around. You had to lay one way – you had to lay on your right side. You
couldn’t lie on your back or on your other side; you all had to face one way. I guess that was so
we didn’t talk to each other or something. I couldn’t lie that way because it was on my good ear,
and I wanted to hear everything that was going on. So I’d look for where she (the nun) was and
turn around, then when she came by I’d turn back. The nun was always there at night – she’d just
watch us. I don’t know what she expected us to do. One time we snuck out, and we got caught
sneaking back in. The nuns woke up the priest to give us the strap. He brought out a big wide
strap and gave us five each. When they asked us where we were, we said that we went out for a
walk – we were really out dancing all night!
It was just like a jail, a penitentiary. That’s what it was like, when they took us from our parents
and put us in there, like we did something wrong. Everybody was crying, little kids crying
because they didn’t want to stay there. They’d get so lonesome. It was a sad day, when you had
to go back to the mission.
The nuns cooked the meals, and we were assigned to the kitchen for a week at a time. We had a
different job every week – bakery, laundry, the church. It was nice in the kitchen, when Sister
Suzette wasn’t there. She’d yell, and she had that rough voice. She was always mad, and for
some reason she was always picking on me. She’d talk so mean – even if you didn’t do anything,
she’d talk really mean to you. I think these nuns; they took a vow of poverty and of chastity. I
think it made them hard. They were so mean to little kids, when they should have just loved
them, but they didn’t. I remember when my mother died, they didn’t comfort me.
I guess everybody had a different outlook on being in the convent. We didn’t learn cooking or
anything like that in there. They didn’t teach you anything like that. When I got married, I didn’t
know how to cook. I cooked – burned - my husband’s porridge for a month straight, because I
thought that’s what everybody ate for breakfast. When he asked me if I could make something
else, I was so upset that he didn’t like my porridge…He asked me for pancakes, so I had to learn
how to make pancakes. It was awful...We had porridge for breakfast every day of our lives, and
bread with lard on it. For a special treat we would have black molasses, mixed with bacon
grease. That was good. Everyday we would have soup for dinner, and then for supper a kind of
stew. We would cut up potatoes, and cook that with the leftovers from the priests and the nuns.
They used to eat like kings. Many a time when I was in the kitchen, I used to go and steal from
the pantry while they were eating. I stuffed myself with dried apples, dried prunes, dried dates
and everything else. They had everything in that pantry. Can you imagine how much money
they got from the government for everybody in there? I guess they were able to buy this and that
for themselves. When the time came for our family allowance, they got that too. Our mothers
and fathers didn’t get it – even in the summer.
Sometimes when the families had a lot of meat, they would bring some in for the children. They
would bring fish, eggs. We barely ever had desserts. We used to have cake once in a while –
once in a blue moon – or Jell-O or rice pudding. They used to make some kind of bannock, or
biscuits of some kind. That was good. At lunchtime, we would get raw vegetables – carrots,
turnips and cabbage. You never really went hungry when you were in the convent, if you ate it.
But some of us, if we didn’t like it, wouldn’t eat it. The bread was homemade all the time – I
don’t think they bought it.
It was the punishment that was really bad. They punished for everything: when you were lined
up, you couldn’t talk. In church, you couldn’t sleep – I used to fall asleep all the time in church.
The service would go on and on…If I wasn’t waving at my boyfriend, I was falling asleep.
Church used to be in Latin, and we didn’t understand Latin. We were made to go to church, even
if you were sick, you were still made to go sometimes. Some people would faint in church, and
they would just take them out – it would add a bit of excitement, anyway.
By going into the convent, I missed knowing my mother. I missed learning how to talk Cree – I
never really learned how to talk Cree. I was raised there, and they made us shut up every time we
tried to talk Cree. I would have loved to have spent more time with the grandfathers and
grandmothers. We never went to visit them after our mother died - we never saw them after that.
They had visiting in the convent every Sunday, and whatever parents wanted to come and visit
with their kids could. I’d always look out and see if somebody was going to come and visit me.
My father would come sometimes, but he would never ask for us. He would always ask for his
other kids. One time he asked for us, and he brought us apples. He had a little knife, and he
would peel our apples for us. And then he quit asking for us…I guess he didn’t want to keep
bringing us apples.
There were other kids in there – they used to call them Mr. Hill’s kids. Mr. Hill was a child
welfare worker. He had orphans that he would take under his wing, and look after them. He
would send them to different missions. I think he’d pay for them. He looked after them. For
Christmas, they’d all get presents – really good presents. He was good to them – they got skates
and all kinds of stuff.
I didn’t know my birthday until I was 12 years old. Everybody was having birthdays, but I
wasn’t paying attention. Then I thought that I must have a birthday too, because every year they
said that I was older. I asked Father Roue, and he said that yes, I have a birthday. He looked it
up and said that it was January 22. I was really happy that I had a birthday! I never got a
birthday present until I was 15, and my sister bought me a camera. I still have it. That’s when I
started taking pictures all over.
It’s good talking about your childhood. We started out like little orphans. Maybe that’s why
we’re so close now.
We used to have charges, everybody had to have somebody to look after, somebody younger than
you. I remember Lena was my charge once. She was bigger than me – she was tall. Instead of
me telling her what to do, she used to boss me around [laughter]. I didn’t want her for a charge.
You had to look after them, make sure their hair was combed and all that, that they brushed their
teeth and were dressed properly. When you went out, you had to make sure they were in line.
You had to teach them English, but you weren’t allowed to talk Cree, so I don’t know how that
worked. Everybody had a number, so they had to learn their numbers. You were called by your
number, your towel and clothes were identified that way. They would call out your number when
it was your turn for a bath or whatever. Your number was on your comb, your brushes, and your
toothbrush – even on your cutlery. If you got caught with somebody else’s number, there would
be a really big mix up, and then you’d really be in trouble. Some of them would do that, if they
lost something, they would steal somebody else’s and put their number on it. Then the other
person would get in trouble, even if they were telling the truth.
There was a lot of good that came out of there, too. Knitting and sewing – they used to teach us
stuff like that. I used to just love listening to one nun sing – I thought she sounded just like an
angel. I don’t know how angels sound, but I thought she sounded just like an angel!
They used to take our tonsils out for no reason. Everybody had to have their tonsils out. Every
year they would take four or five children’s tonsils – I could hardly wait my turn, because you got
to go to High Prairie. You stayed there for three or four days. Your teeth, too. I never had a
toothache, but all my teeth are filled on the top. The dentist probably knew how to make money
from the government, because they would get paid for each person. I remember getting glasses
when I was seven. Maybe because I didn’t know how to read or write, since I didn’t know how
to talk English, so they started thinking that I was blind. The other kids used to make fun of me
all the time.
The nuns and the priests were put there to help us. They really thought they were helping the
Indian children. The government ordered them to come on to the reserves and take the Indian
children. I don’t think they knew the kind of damage they were doing to the Indian people. It’s
not really their fault; it’s the government’s fault. I don’t know what they had in mind to do with
the Indian people, when I think about it. They wanted to make us more like White people, more
civilized – like we were savages or what? But it wasn’t right. That’s why Indian people don’t
know how to do all kinds of things, like parenting and things like that. I don’t remember anybody
ever hugging me.
I learned from the mission, many things. I took that with me. I taught myself how to cook and
learned from my mother-in-law – she was helpful in ways – she taught me how to wash, and rinse
and hang things. That’s how I learned.
Most of all, I missed my childhood years, no doubt about it. Being with our mother and father,
being together as a family. We had no family life together. We didn’t really know our relatives,
not until much later. But we’re together now.
THE IMPACT OF THE RESIDENTIAL SCHOOL EXPERIENCE ON FAMILIES 133
THE IMPACT OF THE RESIDENTIAL SCHOOL EXPERIENCE ON FAMILIES
This chapter describes the impact of residential schools on families as gleaned from the literature
on this topic and based on the stories of the people who lived in these institutions as children.
While the themes are generic and apply to many communities, the quotations that illustrate them
are almost entirely taken from conversations in Sturgeon Lake. According to R.F. Davey,
Director of Education Services for Indian Affairs, (Davey C1.3376A) it seemed clear that
“neither the Government nor the Churches appeared to have any real understanding of the needs
of children, let alone the needs of children who come from a seriously disadvantaged group. The
method of financing these institutions by per capita grants was an iniquitous system which made
no provision for the establishment and maintenance of standards, even in such basic elements as
staffing, food or clothing.”
Residential Schools and Aboriginal Parenting
It became clear from the stories of community members that their experiences in the residential
schools had a negative influence on the capacity of Aboriginal people to parent their children.
This seems perfectly understandable when one considers that between the late 1800s to the early
1970s, Aboriginal children from age 3 to 16 were removed from their homes, many forcibly, and
placed in residential schools, where they stayed from September until June each year. During this
annual ten-month period they were isolated from their parents and from the rest of Canadian
society. Breaking up Aboriginal families by putting young children in residential schools was
encouraged from an early date by government legislators and enforced by representatives of the
church and by federal government Indian agents. According to Hayter Reed, a senior Department
of Indian Affairs official, the total separation and isolation of Aboriginal children from their
families was important to effectively ‘socialize’ the children. The greater the separation of the
children from their families and communities, and the more isolated they are, the more success
could be anticipated (Milloy, 1999). This practice removed the responsibility for child rearing
that had traditionally been carried by the full extended family and the community from the
Aboriginal culture and entrusted it to a government whose stated policy was the assimilation of
Aboriginal people into the dominant society, a policy that could only be implemented by
completely removing the children from the influence of their parents and communities.
Aboriginal children were therefore not only educated separately from the dominant society, they
were also educated away from their own culture. In this setting, isolated culturally and
geographically, the task of systematically transmitting the dominant society’s values, skills,
culture, religion, and language was ensured. To ensure English language acquisition, speaking an
Aboriginal language was forbidden and punished by corporal punishment. All aspects of the
Aboriginal child’s life were regulated and monitored from morning to night by their caretakers to
ensure compliance to this rule. In the words of a former resident:
First thing in the morning, you had to jump out of bed and kneel on the cold floor
to pray. It seems like we prayed a lot. We prayed, and then we got up and
washed our faces. Then we went downstairs and went to church and prayed
some more then went back and had breakfast. We prayed before breakfast we
prayed after breakfast. We prayed before school--we prayed all day!
Aboriginal people are all affected in some way whether they attended these schools or not. Even
those Aboriginal people who never attended residential schools have relatives or friends who still
feel the effects. Many of those who attended residential schools have found it extremely painful
and avoid speaking of this emotionally burdensome and damaging experience, while those who
did not attend are indirectly affected because they cannot understand why an educational
experience should leave such bitter emotional scars. The practice of separating children from
their parents and their way of life has had an impact on almost all Aboriginal families. The
structure, cohesion and quality of family life suffered. Parenting skills diminished as succeeding
generations became more and more institutionalized and experienced little nurturing. Low self-
esteem and self-concept problems arose as children were taught that their culture was inferior and
uncivilized, even ‘savage’ (Martens et al, 1988). Taking small children from their parents, and
keeping them away from their influence caused parents and children to become strangers to each
other (Unger, 1977).
This was especially damaging for Aboriginal communities that were structured around the unique
inter-relationships that exist among family, extended family, clan, band, and tribe (Lucas, 1989).
In addressing this unique family pattern Lewis (1970) described the kinship structure, embodying
a network of valued relationships, as one of the important keystones of the culture. The actual
structure of the society included large extended families, and children, who were highly valued,
occupied a central place within it as maternal and paternal grandfathers, uncles, aunts, and
cousins all actively participated in child-rearing (Fischler, 1985; Cross, 1986).
It is important to understand the traditional context in which Aboriginal children had been raised
prior to considering the extent to which established standards were followed. The sharing of
child rearing by several persons was a traditional custom honoured and practiced by all North
American Indian tribes. During periods of hunting and gathering, most nomadic tribes naturally
assumed this standard of protecting children. Children were continually under the watchful eyes
of tribal elders, siblings, cousins, aunts, or grandparents. As a result of this nurturing and security
Aboriginal children were strongly tied to family, clan, and tribe and the extended family
supported families because responsibilities were divided among many members of the
community, and no single person was overburdened with the care of a child. Traditionally,
Aboriginal communities were structured around the unique inter-relationships that exist among
family, extended family, clan, band, and tribe (Lewis, 1970). Of this family pattern, the kinship
structure was the most important foundations of the culture. The actual structure of the society
included large extended families in which children central (Fischler, 1985.) The traditional
Aboriginal family "included maternal and paternal grandfathers, uncles, aunts, and cousins who
all actively participated in child-rearing (Cross, 1986, p. 284)."
Parenting skills and child-rearing patterns are terms that are reflected differently in each culture.
the removal of Aboriginal children from parents to be raised in residential schools deprived those
children of a cultural legacy. They missed the tightly knit community of extended family and
relatives who shared the task of child rearing by providing nurturing and security.
It is also important to note that by the 1940’s the Aboriginal communities had been weakened by
several generations who had been through the residential school experience, graduating from
schools which had subjected them to severe regimentation and often physical, sexual and
emotional abuse that left them with an overall fear of authority. The legacy to this generation was
an impaired ability to transmit a sense of culture and identity and a vulnerability to the loss of
culture, language and Aboriginal spirituality. They suffered from broken relationships between,
not only the generations but with each other as a result of the violence and atmosphere in which
they had been raised which ended up creating tremendous mistrust. In addition, the ability to
parent had been seriously diminished as the generations failed to develop parenting models upon
which they could base their ability to raise their children. In addition, this generation often failed
to develop methods of discipline that were consistent with their culture, leading some to replicate
the rigid and often violent methods of discipline that had been imposed upon them with their own
children.
Haig-Brown (1988) emphasized the lack of positive role models because children learn parenting
skills by the way they are parented, and for many Aboriginal children who spent ten years or
more at residential schools, one must conclude that these children had limited experience as
family members. Atteneave (1930, p.30) recollects that "Neither they nor their own parents had
ever known life in a family from the age they first entered school. The parents had no memories
and no patterns to follow in rearing children except for the regimentation of mass sleeping and
impersonal schedules.” This lack of positive role modeling, brought on by the education process
at residential schools, has taken its toll in the Aboriginal family in Canada today. When the
family structure is weakened or destroyed the culture and society cannot help but be affected.
The Joint Parliamentary Committee on the Indian Act, convened from 1946 to 1948, (Crown
documents C1.3376A; C1.1618; C1.3159A and C1.2029) was instrumental in redefining federal
policy with regard to residential schools for Aboriginal children. In its submission to the
Committee the Indian Association of Alberta (IAA) noted that the treaties provided for the
establishment of schools on reserves and, among its many recommendations, advocated that the
residential school system be curtailed in favor of day schools (GOV DOC CA1, YC3-14 20th.
Parl. Sess. 1947, No 1-20, pp. 571 ff)). The IAA emphasized that “No child can develop as he
should, without the care and affection of family life … [and the] restrictions, discipline, exclusive
use of English, etc., in the Residential Schools are now recognized as having a harmful effect on
immature minds and bodies. The IAA noted that there may be some situations where residential
schools are needed to meet local needs but they should continue in operation only if requested by
the Indians themselves, and in these cases they should be properly funded, equipped, and staffed
(p. 579).
In the words of one grandmother: “I'm granny. Long ago, as far as I know, our people had their
way of raising their families. Like we had the grandparents, we had the aunts and uncles and then
we had the parents themselves. Our grandparents were there to teach us. They were our teachers,
if we wanted to know something we approached our grandparents and they taught us what they
knew and our aunts and uncles were the people that told us when we did something wrong.
When we did something wrong it wasn't our parents that scolded us or told us what we did was
wrong. It was up to the aunts and uncles. They were the ones that disciplined their nephews and
nieces and I still see that sometimes today. Sometimes one of my sons when his nephews do
wrong, he tells them they did wrong. He doesn't wait for the parents to tell them, he tells them.
That's the way it was long ago and the parents were there just to love their kids. You gave love to
your kids and your kids loved you in return. The children didn't have to be taken out of homes
and when they were orphaned or the parents were sick, the rest of the family was there to just take
them in and look after them. There was no such thing as who is going to take care of this child,
somebody just said you can come home and live with me. I'll raise you and take care of you and
that was it.”
Children were continually under the watchful eyes of tribal elders, siblings, cousins, aunts, or
grandparents. As a result of this nurturing and security the Aboriginal "child's self-concept is
strongly tied to his family, clan, and tribe…and bonds formed early within this
structure."(Blanchard & Barsh, 1980, p. 350) Furthermore, the extended "family structure
provided support for families to live in a wholesome, non-threatening way" (Lucas, 1989, p. 9)
because "child-rearing responsibilities were divided among many members of the community,
and no single individual was overburdened with the care, discipline, or feeding of a child."
(Cross, 1986:284) Thus, the removal of Aboriginal children deprived them of a tightly knit
community of extended family and relatives who shared the task of child rearing by providing
nurturing and security. This practice of separating children from parents and the parenting role
model is singularly responsible for many of the problems related to child care now found among
Aboriginal parents" (McKenzie & Hudson, 1985). We know that children learn parenting skills
by the way they are parented, and Aboriginal children who spent many years in residential
schools had limited experience as family members (Haig-Brown, 1988). Atteneave (1977: 30)
recollects that "Neither they nor their own parents had ever known life in a family from the age
they first entered school. The parents had no memories and no patterns to follow in rearing
children except for the regimentation of mass sleeping and impersonal schedules.” This lack of
positive role modeling has taken its toll in the Aboriginal family in Canada today. According to
one mother:
Being at residential school…parents of residential schools didn't have the
parenting skills that they had like raising their own families at home.
In addition, communities found their children changed in terms of values. Instead of fully
acquiring the values, skills, language, culture, and religion of the dominant society, children
became confused and this created conflicts between parents and children. Over time some
graduates of residential schools began to display the effects of their education and demonstrated a
lack of confidence and awareness in child rearing as they assumed their role as parents (Ing,
1990). By the 1960s, a generation of Aboriginal parents who were not given the choice of raising
their children began to show signs of "abrogating their responsibility as parents” (Caldwell, 1979,
p. 21). The research indicated that a pattern of expectation had developed among some Indian
parents that the residential school system provided a carefree way of living without children
(Metcalf, 1975; Caldwell, 1979). One community member recalled it this way:
It’s what we lost, but it's what let us in the zoo when they gave us the drink. We
didn't wish to look after our kids, we would rather go and drink in the bars and
buy our own liquor and everything. That's when we really lost it because we
didn't know how to control it (the drinking). Even I wanted to send my kids to a
group home . . . I wanted mine to go so I could have time to drink but they
wouldn't take them because I don't know, maybe I was a good parent?
I think after a while families got used to not having their children and they didn't
take full responsibility as the bonding wasn't really there. They were used to not
having their children. But that's why they're suffering because there was no
bonding.
It has also become clear that some Aboriginal children were subjected to starvation, incarceration,
physical and sexual abuse in the course of their long separation from family (BraveHeart, 1999).
In a 1992 study, negative boarding school experiences were recounted by a majority of
respondents and include physical abuse (58.1%), being punished for speaking Lakota (37.9%),
and sexual abuse by boarding school staff (22.6%) (BraveHeart-Jordan, 1995). In the words of
one person:
I’ve heard some of those stories from older men. How they were treated. And
one example was like when they went to bed or something, they were yanked out
of bed in the middle of the night and dipped into ice cold water and forced to
stand in the corner bare naked in front of everybody like for a day and it was just
horrible. This older fellow was telling me that it happened to him. I think he
was at an Alberta mission and he said he ran into one of the nuns who used to
teach in there. She was in the old folk’s home in Northern Alberta. This was
years and years later. He was already in his 50s by then and this nun saw him
come into the old folks home and she said, oh, my son and she was trying to be
all sweet and nice and thought he would be happy to see her and he said he
looked at her and he just froze and she came up to him and he said he slapped her
face. He couldn’t help himself. He had all that hate and anger in him for so
many years he just couldn’t control it. It’s just awful things to cause a person to
do that to a nun. When he was a little boy in the convent he was raped every
night. As a result of that how would you expect that man to even be a good
father – he’d have so much hate.
This generation of young Aboriginal people is the first generation that did not attend residential
schools; but because their parents and grandparents attended, they are deeply affected by the
wounds and bitter memories of early childhood experiences. The breaking up of Aboriginal
families has severely undermined the role of the extended family and kinship networks, causing
that structure to break down, or in most cases, to be destroyed (Ing, 1990). Descendants of
boarding school attendees also report a history of neglect and abuse in their own childhoods,
along with feelings of inadequacy as parents and confusion about how to raise children in a
healthy way. This historical trauma has not only resulted in the impairment of culturally
normative parenting styles, but in a high risk for developing alcohol and drug abuse problems
associated with ineffective and injurious parenting (Brave Heart, 1999). The residential schools
also introduced new and dysfunctional behaviors, such as the use of severe punishment in child
rearing. Before the residential school era, the use of physical discipline was uncommon in most
tribes, but parents who had been spanked and hit while attending residential school responded
similarly to their own children (Horejsi et al, 1992).
The nuns were so mean to little kids, when they should have just loved them, but
they didn't. I remember when my mother died, they didn't comfort me.
It was the punishment that was really bad. They punished for everything: when
you were lined up, you couldn't talk . . . We were made to go to church, even if
you were sick, you were still made to go sometimes. Some people would faint in
church, and they would just take them out--it would add a bit of excitement,
anyway.
This contrasted greatly with the general loving attitude toward all children that prevailed in
Aboriginal communities prior to the residential schools, not just for one’s own children, but also
for all the children of the tribe. Orphans or adopted children were not mistreated or set apart by
the family, but were gratefully taken in and cherished. Aboriginal people were known to accept
and respect all individuals, irrespective of age or sex, not only for their abilities but also with
considerable tolerance for their weaknesses (Bull, 1991). Many mothers in our talking circles
spoke of their inability in demonstrating affection for their children.
If you go and hug someone, you can just feel the tenseness, we hardly ever had
that, and that began from the residential school, I think, because we never loved
on another that way.
They (our children) don't realize how hard we had it and they think we are just
neglecting them. We just don't know how to show our affection to them. We
don't know how and that's hard.
Many Aboriginal people who left the residential school system feared to speak their language and
so failed to teach the language and traditional ways to their children. Haig-Brown (1988:286)
states, "As adults many consciously did not teach their children an Aboriginal language so that
they might avoid the punishments incurred through its use at school." One of the tragedies of this
to help ease the hardship of parenting. In former times, an intricate network of relatives could be
depended on to help in child rearing. There has been a breakdown in traditional and cultural
belief systems and child-rearing values. In the words of one community member:
As an Aboriginal nation and Canadians we should be proud who we are and
teach our children to know who they are and I think once they know that who
they are . . . they will make progress and they will be proud of themselves and
there wouldn’t be so much low self-esteem. Before the white man came we
survived. We need to teach our children to be proud of who they are and to
identify themselves as Aboriginal people so they can be proud people.
Dakota Elder Eva McKay of Sioux Valley states, "It's true that the residential school life has
altered the traditional way of our people and was the beginning of the breaking up of traditional
family life. We came out confused…and the hurt that we did not bring out but hid within us
became a reality later in life (Assembly of First Nations, 1989).
Children’s Needs for Security and a Sense of Belonging
There is common agreement that children have a basic need for security, stability, a sense of
belonging and to count for something in the lives of others. In lieu of the sense of security that
children need to develop fully as human beings, the accounts of residential school survivors
resonate with negative experiences. This is not to say that some former residents do report
positive experiences. Why some children have better experiences than others is a subject of
interest that calls for further exploration. What is clear is that many have been subjected to
traumatic experiences that continue to affect them and Aboriginal communities to this day.
Discipline and Punishment
There have been many accounts of severe punishment by staff. It is significant that the few
directives issued from Ottawa to residential schools reiterated the importance of not resorting to
physical punishment, leading one to conclude that it must have been an issue of overriding
concern. The documentation reviewed is replete with requests to school principals to deal with
staff who have been accused of overly harsh and severe punishments, and the resistance of the
administration to deal with the concerns.
Pervasive Fear
Many accounts of residential schools speak to the pervasive fear that children lived with for most
of their childhood. The practice of cruel and unanticipated punishment left children in a constant
state of fear and anxiety, as even if they were not personally punished, they never knew when
they might be next.
We lived in such fear. Fear of punishment. It was the punishment that was really
bad. They punished for everything.
Corporal Punishment Associated with the Aboriginal Language
This form of discipline was devastating to the pupils. However, many Aboriginal parents with
this experience as children resorted to using this form of punitive discipline with their offspring.
This is understandable because the use of this punitive discipline was one of the parenting models
provided by the staff at residential schools. Many Aboriginal people who left the residential
school system feared to speak their language and so failed to teach the language and traditional
ways to their children. Of this fear to speak the language Haig-Brown (1988) wrote that "as
adults many consciously did not teach their children an Aboriginal language so that they might
avoid the punishments incurred through its use at school" (p.110). One of the tragedies of this
to help ease the hardship of parenting. In former times an intricate network of relatives could be
depended on to help in child rearing. There has been a breakdown to traditional and cultural
belief systems and child-rearing values. Dakota Elder Eva McKay of Sioux Valley states "It's
true that the residential school life has altered the traditional way of our people and was the
beginning of the breaking up of traditional family life. We came out confused…and the hurt that
we did not bring out but hid within us became a reality later in life (AFN, 1989, p. 59).
Effects on Family and Community Life
To live with others in a family setting or in a small group and to develop mutual attachments and
a sense of responsibility for others is a critical part of preparation for adult life. The failure to
provide an environment that somewhat resembled a family setting where students could
experience the development of mutual attachments and a sense of responsibility for others has led
to repercussions that continue in a cycle of lateral violence, high suicide rates, addictions,
poverty, failed relationships, and an inability to parent effectively.
MacDonald (1985:252) has suggested that "the causes of the widespread breakdown in Indian
family life are complex." Aboriginal people are all affected in some way whether they attended
these schools or not. Even those aboriginal people who never attended residential schools have
relatives or friends who still feel the effects. Those who attended residential schools find it
extremely painful and avoid introspection of this highly emotionally burdensome and damaging
experience; and those who did not attend are indirectly affected because they cannot understand
why an educational experience should leave such bitter emotional scars. An indication of the
“success” of the residential schools is that many children graduated with little notion of who they
were as Aboriginal people. In the words of one survivor:
Look at all these kids that have been taken away from the reserve. They don’t
even know where they come from. They don’t know who their relations are or
anything. There are a lot of them that come back and say this. They don’t know
anybody.
Many would agree that separating children from their parents and their way of life has had a
dramatic impact on most Aboriginal families. Family life suffered as parenting skills diminished
and succeeding generations became more and more institutionalized as they received insufficient
nurturing. The result for many Aboriginal people was low self-esteem and a diminished self of
self as they were taught to believe that their culture was inferior and uncivilized (Martens et al,
1988).
Intergenerational Trauma
Ing (1990) states that many parents were bitter, and passing their bitterness on to their children.
While a generation may not have attended a residential school, because their parents and
grandparents did, they are deeply affected by the wounds and bitter memories of their early
childhood experiences. Generations of breaking up Aboriginal families have severely
undermined the role of the extended family and kinship networks, causing that structure to break
down, or in most cases, cease to be. Clinical and research experience among the Lakota reveal
that Indian parents who were themselves raised in boarding school settings feel inadequate and
overwhelmed in their parental role. Further, descendants of boarding school attendees also report
a history of neglect and abuse in their own childhoods along with feelings of inadequacy as
parents and confusion about how to raise children in a healthy way. This historical trauma has
resulted in the impairment of culturally normative parenting styles and high risk for developing
alcohol and drug abuse problems associated with ineffective and injurious parenting (Brave
Heart-Jordan, 1995).
Loss of affection
Before residential schools, in Aboriginal families, a general loving attitude toward all children
prevailed, not just for one’s own children, but love for all the children of the tribe. An orphan or
an adopted child was not in any way mistreated or set apart by the family, but was gratefully
taken in and cherished. Aboriginal people have been noted to accord unquestioned acceptance of,
and respect for, all individuals, irrespective of age or sex, not only for their abilities but also with
considerable tolerance as well for their weaknesses (Bull, 1991). In the words of a former
resident:
It’s very interesting and we survived before, we didn’t have the dollar. We had
love. We had respect for our elders and love from our children because we
showed them love. They didn’t just send them away to school. They learned lots
at home instead of being sent some place else to learn from somebody else and I
think that’s why our kids don’t in a way respect us because we just sent them
away somewhere else to learn all them other things besides love and respect.
Among the damaging effects of residential schools, these are the most difficult to quantify and to
validate, but as a result of being allowed to participate in many talking circles with Aboriginal
people, and the opportunity to review a veritable treasure trove of historical documents it is clear
that this “legacy” of the residential school experience that will require more work on the part of
Aboriginal communities at a fundamental human level. Encouragingly, many communities are
working hard on this journey and making gains that can set the stage for the next phase of their
lives. One of their desires is to inform others of their experiences, especially helping
professionals who have become such an integral part of their life experience and who often hold
such power over them. The next chapter describes on such experience with a course co-taught by
this community and the author.
THE RESIDENTIAL SCHOOL COURSE – A JOINT EFFORT 145
THE RESIDENTIAL SCHOOL COURSE – A JOINT EFFORT
Our First Class

Lena StandingRibbon Jerry Goodswimmer Flo Chowace
One of our commitments in this collaboration was the development of a course on residential
schools for helping professionals between the University of Calgary and the Sturgeon Lake
community. The section describes how the course that was developed finally unfolded and
provides comments about the learning that took place from the students’ perspective.
Survivors of the residential schools from the Sturgeon Lake community who were involved in the
journey were invited to share their experience with the residential school system, and their
perception of its impact on themselves, their families and their community at the onset of this
otherwise web based course. In a spirit of reciprocity, students were given an opportunity to
present and share their learning with each other and with the participants of the first class at the
end of the course. This provided a final opportunity for a dialogue that generated
recommendations for the future based upon the collective wisdom of the participants. The
following six Sturgeon Lake community members shared their experience and wisdom for two
days with students. We are also grateful to many other individuals who gave of their time to this
course that include David Nabew, Peter Kiyawasew, Joe and Elsie Moses.
The following are selected postings on an electronic discussion board derived from students on
this course. It is clear that the contribution of our friends from Sturgeon Lake had a powerful
emotional impact on students’ appreciation for the meaning of this experience.
Today's class was very powerful. The speakers from Sturgeon Lake were extremely effective at
displaying the hardships endured in residential schools. The guest speakers were very courageous
to tell their stories about what occurred in the residential schools. It is very sad to know that
people were treated so poorly. Many of the speakers talked about how everything changed when
they went to residential schools. From the sounds of it this is definitely true. I just find it so
amazing that all of the speakers were able to share their experiences with our class after all that
went on in residential schools. I commend everyone for having the strength and courage to share
their stories. I know that I was touched especially to feel the courage that was portrayed by all of
the speakers.
I was so exhausted after class yesterday I came home and slept for several hours. I feel so
humbled at the courage of those wonderful elders who shared their heartbreaking stories with us
and I thank them from my heart. I try to feel what those children suffered, to empathize with
their experience of losing the comfort of family, of being punished for speaking their language of
suffering the abuse. I can only weep for them, listen empathetically, and weep with them. But
that is not enough! David asks that we find additional ways to support the healing process and
that is my goal.
It is evident that this community has been doing a lot of work for the last several years, and
through this project, they continue their healing journeys. The ultimate goal is to create a healthy
community that is balanced in all aspects - mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual.
Thank you for sharing your family’s story. I've always been impressed with the native attitude
about child rearing. A child is a special gift for the whole family and there is no parental attitude
about power and control. Children are recognized to be individuals, not possessions of the
parents, from the time they are born. The children who were scooped up and taken to the mission
schools must have been in shock at the very different attitudes of their new caregivers, no
touching, no love and harsh punishment for what had been normal "daily living" actions.
Everything that nurtured them (i.e. smiles, laughter, familiar foods, and an unregimented daily
routine) was gone replaced by a cold, frightening environment. I’m sure most of them would
have gone into a deep depression and I marvel that so many found the strength to survive. It
would have been better if the acculturation process had been reversed. The world of the
mooniyaw would have benefited from the native childcare methods.
THE RESIDENTIAL SCHOOL COURSE – A JOINT EFFORT 147
I would like to thank everyone who spoke to the religion aspect, as your thoughts have helped me
broaden my understanding and perspective. The part about the picture that hangs on the Blue
Quills wall really struck me. I can't even imagine seeing something like that let alone being a
child and seeing it and being taught to change who you are or you will go to hell.
Perhaps Shakespeare said it best, "The evil that we do lives after us; the good is oft interred with
their bones” (Mark Anthony's words from Julius Caesar). While there may have been some good
people involved in the residential schools their memory will cast a fading shadow in comparison
to those who caused such harm to so many. I'm constantly reminded of the Jewish Holocaust
experience and I'm old enough to remember the liberation of those who survived the death camps,
the Nuremberg Trials, the capture, trial and execution of Adolph Eichmann. (All of which set off
the same kinds of emotions as this discussion board.) I know that one of the important healing
techniques for many of the survivors was to be able to talk about the atrocities committed against
them and have the world recognize those individuals for the evil people they were (even though
some were already dead). Maybe it's time for recognition - of both the good and the bad
individuals who operated the residential schools. It bothers me that the finger is pointed primarily
at the institutions (i.e. the schools, churches, and government) when (if I'm getting the right
message) the wrongs were committed by individuals on individuals. And if there were good
people in positions of power how could they stand by when this abuse was taking place? I'm
trying to understand the alternative point of view but, so far, I haven't read much that justifies the
events as related by the survivors.
Wow, these stories and the ones in the readings are so sad! As a mother I could not imagine how
they felt, especially for the generation of parents who had been forced to live in the residential
schools themselves. I too had a similar frightening experience at age 5 to stay in the hospital
without parents and I had nightmares for a long time afterwards - so I am filled with compassion
for those kids who were tortured, abused, and were so lonely all the time. I hope to help
survivors of this horrible system.
I strongly agree with you that the healing process of the Aboriginal people should be a shared
responsibility. An apology from institutions that enforced residential school would be a part of
that responsibility and would significantly contribute to the healing process. I also share your
skepticism that an apology won’t happen soon. I am not a pessimist. I just think that the value
system of people who created the residential schools does not allow them to see what they have
done. That does not make them less responsible for their actions; rather it tells us what should be
included in the global changes of our society. We have to redefine how we value our
relationships, health, environment, and whether our priorities are materialistic or spiritual or a
balance of these two. So I think that people who made and supported the system of residential
schools and who exercise their power in contemporary society are the same kind of people. They
are raised in their families to see the world as made of ‘dominant vs. submissive’ relationships.
I hope that First Nations people will learn to trust and work alongside us non-Native Social
workers - there is more power in numbers and alliances, plus we can learn a lot from each other.
Many people are interested in Native healing and the four principles: dialogue, consensus,
decision, and action.
While it is difficult to select representative comments from numerous and thoughtful postings that
have been made, it seems clear that it is possible to create community between social work
students and members of a community that has survived the oppressive structures of the
residential schools and the Indian Act. A profound change has taken place in many of our
students as they gained a greater understanding of what these Aboriginal people had undergone
and the impact of this experience on their lives today. The simplicity, dignity and humility that
formed the context for their expression made for a profoundly moving experience. This has
become an annual event, as members of the Sturgeon Lake community join social work students
to share their experiences, while the students share their learning with the community to assist
them with new ideas in return.
As the community engaged in further sharing, it seemed clear that much of the focus was on the
negative aspects of their lives. At one stage the question was posed. What is good about this
community? This created the stage for a more ample and creative discourse, one that opted to
recognize the strengths and capacity of the people, and their ability to create a new vision for the
future.
WHAT IS GOOD ABOUT STURGEON LAKE? 149
WHAT IS GOOD ABOUT STURGEON LAKE?
Destiny and Friend
Lena: I guess it’s like the good versus the bad and the bad versus the good in a sort of a way. I
think we look at the bad side more then the good side; cause like me for instance when I go
somewhere like Hobbema for cultural camp, the first thing I’ll ask is what happened and they’ll
tell you the bad thing that happened on the reserve but nothing on the good, but that’s what most
people ask is what bad happened while I was away and they never look at the good side of things.
What good happened on the weekend on the reserve, it’s always negative. So that’s some of the
concerns I have.
When somebody dies people get together to help each other. That is one good thing about this
community they come together to support the family. That is what I noticed about this reserve.
Everybody joins in to help. That is one of the good things about the community. And some
people are good at organizing things. They will start from scratch and they will do a good job.
They just up and do it. People have good qualities in that too.
And right now I’m looking for a good hunter, I want to make some dry meat, I even had some
people make me a meat rack at Vicky’s last week and now I need meat to make it. I want to store
up for the winter and I know there is lot of good hunters out there, but I don’t know if they want
to be asked.
David: Those are some of the things I was talking about, we have people that are talented at
moose hunting; we have people that can teach us how to cure this stuff but those are people that
we never utilize or we don’t appreciate their talents. We are so used to complaining, and our
[personal] concerns become the most important. How are we going to change things so we can
start to appreciate some of the capacity we have on the reserve? Maybe we can start doing a
different type of growing and I think that has to come in hand in hand with our Journey toward
Empowerment. We are trying to empower people to take responsibility for themselves and to
become more responsible. It has to be a realistic approach, but these are important ingredients in
what we are doing.
Lena: One of the positive things I have seen on this reserve for the past couple of years is that
more people are sober, because they have role models on the reserve. There were not many way
before but now there are. That’s what we need for our younger people, to see the older ones, and
not only the older ones, sober. I have noticed that when they see sober people they say “there is a
sober person, I better stay sober.” With my grandchildren when I’m around they don’t drink, so I
try and be with them all the time. I think I did one good thing this weekend. Everyone was
having a party after a tournament and I had no booze to buy so I couldn’t give a drinking party.
These people wanted to go somewhere so I brought them home, no booze no nothing, and they
sat around on the floor and on the chairs in my dining room and living room, and I just put a bag
of dry meat there and that was our party. The next day they called it our dry meat party. So I feel
proud of myself doing that. I didn’t have lots of dry meat but I just put it there and they went
home about 1:30 and that was that, so I felt good about myself. I don’t have lots, but I was
willing and the next day some people come here to ask for dry meat. They were trying to come
and buy some but I don’t sell.
Alvina: I wasn’t originally raised here, but I lived near here before. There were many things I
admired about Sturgeon Lake. Where I was raised we had to pay for everything that we wanted.
You had to pay for transportation; to buy clothing, for your power, your rent, damage deposit and
here there are a lot of good things that you don’t have to pay for. You don’t have to live side by
side with people and you can choose where you want to live so you have privacy. The school
here is nearby, which is good because you don’t have to buy a bus pass to get there like in towns.
Now we have Head Start and daycare programs. There’s just about all the resources that you
need: social Services, a band hall, a Health Center, a nurse, a dentist, these are all good things I
see in Sturgeon Lake that I would have wanted when I was growing up. Where I had to go to
Grande Prairie to make an appointment, now I just make one at the Health Center; the dentist
comes two or three times a month; the nurse is here all the time and medical transportation is
always on call. If you have a medical appointment a bus will transport you. If you need an
appointment, they will make it for you at the Health Center. Everything is so convenient. There
are many recreational facilities such the community hall, the skating rink, and ball diamonds.
That’s what I like about the community, we have everything here. We have counselors that make
referrals to treatment center for addictions. There are [social] workers here; which is another
resource. We also have a therapist; if you can’t make it to a psychologist or other therapist, one is
available here. If there was enough funding, we would be able to put up more workshops to
educate the community. That’s where I have mostly educated myself from being a real negative
person, and ignorant. The workshops and going back to school are some of the things I had to do
to retrain myself.
I see a lot of people who are not afraid to do what they want to do. It’s their choice now whereas
before they were afraid to do things for themselves. They would say things like “I don’t want to
do it” or “I’m scared, you talk for me” but now I see a lot of people going forward to do things
for themselves; they are not afraid to say how they feel or what they think. I see people being
honest and trusting in themselves. Before I used to be afraid to hear a “no” but today I think it’s
only a “no” and now I’m able to take it. I see a lot of our members say “what’s a no?” It’s not
going to hurt me.
The youth are even trying; when they come to see me and I try and encourage them when they
say things like “well I can’t do this” and I say to them “yes you can,” but what you have to do is
to try. So there are a few youths that are still trying and I see a lot of positive stuff there too. So
education and attending workshops like we have here today, taking part and sharing are some of
the things I see here.
Dorthy: I’m happy where I’m living although they call it skid row. But it’s nice and quiet and I
like the meetings I go to on Mondays. I open up more where before I couldn’t even talk, but now
I’m not scared to talk. I have seen a lot of young people who were ready to go into grade 12 and
they quit. My grandson went to grade 12 and he didn’t quit but he was the only boy this year. I
don’t know what’s happening to the young people they should just stick to school. Maybe they
want to work or just grow up sooner, so that’s what I keep telling my grandson and granddaughter
to just keep going to school. It’s a good school that’s what I think.
I went to Onion Lake a little while ago and you should have seen the young people dance; just the
young people, even the little kids were playing drums. That’s what they should teach. The way
they were dancing and the way the boys were playing the drums was good. People here should
teach the young people to play drums and all the dances including round dances. They love
sports they are so eager to go to ball games and swimming, but they have no transportation. They
always hang around in bunches. The teen center closes all the time they have nowhere to go.
They always hang around at the ball diamond; from where I live I see them all the time.
Somebody should be helping young people with traditional things like dance, like Tracy does
right now. That’s all.
Felix: I was born and raised just a little distance from here. I grew up here. I have been a
councilor here a number of years. . . . The people in front of me talking about alcohol and
partying all the time. Now you see not that much going on. I used to party myself. I never went
to any formal workshops or anything like that, just one day I decided it wasn’t doing me any good
so my wife and I said we will quit drinking. We never promised anybody anything. We just
decided it wasn’t doing us any good. We didn’t take any programming or anything like that but
we just managed to be able to quit. The strength we draw from our kids. There are a lot of things
I appreciate; there was talk about round dances, it is a sober event it happens here on the reserve.
We take part in those things and take part in the Pow-wows. We should be teaching these values
about the drums and different things and I’m one to say yes we should do that, because after
awhile it gets addictive and you can take in events across the country if you really want to.
There are things that are being done now that we have committees. We have established
committees that handle different things. I sit on the Family Services committee and there was
another lady that was talking about having campouts, making dry meat, picking berries, and
drying fish and that was supposed to begin today. We postponed it for two weeks and that will
put us right into the moose rutting season, so that elders such as the gentleman sitting over here
can take part in the things he loved to do when he was a young man like calling moose. I saw
him do that and he was one of the better callers.
We were going to try and teach the young kids those things and have the ladies make the dry
meat and dry the fish for themselves and even go as far as making the hides, but we couldn’t find
a lady to do that even though we were going to pay her to do it. When I was a young lad I used to
see my mother do those things. It is a labor intensive job and it requires a lot of care. I guess it
could still be done because there are ladies here that want to start arts and crafts. I encourage
some of traditional values [even if] I know we can’t go back in time and survive the way they
used to along time ago. The trap line is different and the fur just is not there and the prices are
not there either; but then we still have to survive. This individual here that was talking before me
knows a lot about the drum and has talked to me about the drum. At one point when he was a
young man that there was no such a thing as a radio. The old timers would entertain themselves
by picking up the drum and just singing; to me that is a lost art, and they would have fun and tell
stories and different things. I have sat and listened to some old timers that passed on. They told
me different things and it was a good way of life where there was always humor no matter what.
To me humor is a big part of healing because when I’m hurt have a lot of pain and when
somebody cracks a joke, for that instant or maybe for a minute I will have forgotten my pain.
Anyway that is all I have to share maybe that is too much.
Alvina: So using myself as an example, about twenty years ago I always thought this community
would never change, people would never change, and things would never change. But the reason
I was feeling like that because I was not changing the way I was thinking and everything was
negative. I was using drugs and I was an alcoholic, but what happened was because of what I did
to myself through my alcoholism that created bad friendships and relationships. I had created a
lot of pain for myself and there were some good people but because I wasn’t feeling good about
myself I was seeing only what I wanted to see in front of my face and not anything further than
that. At that time I thought all people drank, but not everybody was drinking at that time. There
were a lot of people that had families and didn’t drink, but to me it looked like there was nothing
good.
I always thought that nothing would change until I started sobering up and realizing that my life
wasn’t going anywhere. When I would lose a job then I would end up hurting myself again but it
was always somebody else’s doing. It was only when I realized that I’m doing this to myself and
nobody else, and I would have to pull myself out of that gutter and nobody else is going to do it.
I was relying on other people to do it for me, but there were also other people letting me know
‘Alvina you’re a good worker and you work all the time? Why are you doing this to yourself’? “I
thought you guys were being mean and I didn’t want to hear that. I looked at it in a negative way,
but it was a positive and it was from a person that had confidence in me where I didn’t have that.
They saw me as a good person when I didn’t see myself that way. I always thought I was stupid
and dumb, but that is not what people were telling me. I hung on to my old negative person and I
just felt that was how I was and part of my upbringing from my family, not realizing that one of
my parents grew up in residential school and she passed on the only parenting skill she knew.
When I came to Sturgeon and I went home with a black eye, cuts and bruises it was Sturgeon
Lake, not Alvina mouthing off. When I took responsibility for being mouthy and lipping people
off when I was drinking [I realized] that I was going to get hit. While I had always said that
Sturgeon is never going to change, it did change because I changed my way of thinking, my way
of behaving towards people. I don’t think anybody wanted to sit beside me the way I was acting
up. I was too good for everybody . . . everybody [else] had a fault, but there was nothing wrong
with me and that was how I was with everything and everybody.
When I became sober I had to start letting go of a lot of stuff . . . but it took a long time and I had
to start with myself. If I didn’t want people treating me this way, then why did I treat people the
same way? I would talk to myself a lot because I started treating my little girl that way and I
remembered that I didn’t like that when I was young, I’m sure she didn’t like me never asking
how she felt or what she wanted. It was always what I wanted . . . and I didn’t respect nobody’s
feelings. When we did come back there were a lot of people that never drank all their lives but
their families did. At the time when my husband was working as a counselor we had to go
through a lot of struggles and I thought that nobody was ever going to sober up as there were too
many people drinking. But we kept doing things like sober dances, taking people out to different
communities, and powwows. One time we visited Alkali Lake [a dry reserve in British
Columbia] and that helped me to develop a relationship with some of our community people for
whom I had so much anger and to begin to feel more comfortable with them.
I said if I didn’t take care of myself first I would have make a stink. But until I started sharing
my pain even if it meant crying, [it was] good because at least I was going to know it hurt cause
I’m now talking about it. I really like where I am today whereas twenty years ago I wouldn’t
want to be here because I was still using. Everything looked ugly because my life was ugly. It
was not other people, it was me.
But now you can go through the rez and the yards are clean compared to years back, people are
looking after their yards and their homes and I have seen a change in that. I see kids today
walking around clean while twenty years back there were some families that didn’t have parents
at all [because] they were using or drunk and that is when the [child welfare] system came in.
I’m pretty sure some were sharing the parenting like [happened] in my childhood if the parents
were separated. It was our grandparents or aunts. I think that is what I would like to see happen
again instead of the child welfare system. If somebody is drinking or leaving their children, why
call child welfare [when] you can call the aunt or somebody that has one or two children or has
no children. That is my dream.
Many people spoke of a brighter future with a sense of optimism in spite of all the difficulties they
had experienced. Beyond reflecting on what on what they had overcome, community members
wished to see happen to improve their lives. What they hoped for was fundamentally simple and
human. The first speaker touches on an important and potentially negative force in their lives,
that of the child welfare system. Others, as shall be seen, express a longing for a life they had
known earlier as a fundamental part of their future.
VISIONING THE FUTURE 161
VISIONING THE FUTURE
Virginia: My dream is to get my house, get my kids and I’m doing it, but what hurts the most is
that I’m doing it on my own and I have no one to turn to at times, and it hurts. They talk about
keeping the circle and keeping the community together but that is not true. They don’t know
what we mothers go through when we lose our children and have to say goodbye, but now my
kids are coming back. It took me six years to find my children and I didn’t have to find them,
they came and found me. I have a fourteen year old and she sees me once a month and now my
other girls are coming to see me. I like that because it has been a long time. I got a phone call
from child welfare yesterday and they told me “your girls really want to see you” and I told them
“well I’m getting a new house, and I even showed them the house and I tell my girls, this is not
my house this is your house” but you know I really hurt, I’m a hurting unit as I walk around this
reserve. I look around and think am I going to fight here. There are so many jealous people and
that is why I can’t wait to get out of here, I want to move to my house and I can’t wait to get out
of the town site. I’m happy because now my girls get to know who mommy is and get to know
me and I lost that with my kids. If something happens to you and then a good result comes about,
I like that because I have been struggling for months. I’m the type of person that will never give
up on my family and my children are coming back. I’m a hurting unit but people don’t know that
I wear a mask and people don’t come up to me and say “Hi, how is it going?” I’m a type of
person that gets very depressed very easy and people don’t know that I am feeling this way, I
even wrote a poem about death inside. I talk about the death inside of me that hurts me that
people don’t know about.
Clifford: Less alcohol. There are some areas where we don’t even don’t want to visit an old
couple like my auntie and my uncle. We don’t want to walk down that area because there is a lot
of alcohol, so we don’t even go visit. It has been months. I think there should a center for the
elders such as one in Edmonton called Operation Friendship. A lot of old people go there to play
cards and talk to each other. A lot of times my uncle sits outside all day by himself just waiting
for somebody to come by and talk to him. I wonder sometimes what he’s thinking because he
just sits there until the sun goes down, but when he sees a lot of people drinking around there he
goes inside [the house]. He practically has to hide, but if he had a place like that for old people to
be with each other, talk to and play cards . . .
Alvina: What I would like to see is people not being afraid of people. There is fear; they are
scared to talk to people. The trust is not there, and people are scared to even share their pain. I
can remember when people would come to the road and say ‘hi, what’s your name, where are you
from, come in, have coffee, rest up’ even [if you were] just walking a little ways. I would like to
see that happen again, just feeling free with no fear of anything. Just saying how you feel or
“Hey, I need to talk to somebody’ and you could just take some time to sit down and have some
coffee. “Let’s talk about it. I’m willing to listen to you . . . just feeling that whatever you do
there is somebody out there and none of this competition where somebody always trying outdo
you or trying to be better than you. That happens . . . when somebody wants to knock your
program ...or your singing, what ever talent you have; they knock you down instead of giving you
encouragement. I would not be afraid to walk into their home instead of having somebody
looking at you really mean and leaving you wonder if you were in the right place. [I would like
the] good feeling that there is no tension. [I would like to see] less alcohol and drugs, and for
children to feel safe. I want to trust everyone without wondering if my child is going to be okay.
[I would like to see us] actually sitting down with the children and passing on our teachings like
used to happen with my grandparents when they gave us some needle and a thread and a button to
sew and told us things about parenting that we would have to do when we were older. I was only
six or seven years old and I did not want to get married because I [would] have to sew, but [they
were] teaching me and preparing me to be an adult, so those skills were useful as I was growing
up. That is what I would like to see again. I want to see a child come to me and ask a question
and take time to talk instead of saying “Get out of here! I don’t have time for you.”
I want to walk on ground like a soft sponge instead of bumping into ruts and tripping. I am
always alert and watching. My eyes are constantly watching for warning signs. That is how I
feel sometimes even as a counselor, because when you knock [at a door] you don’t know who is
going to slam the door in your face or yell at you.
I would like to see the elders not have to shut themselves out and for people to take the time to
listen to their stories. The elders used to tell me about things like the way the trees are moving or
even the animals to predict the weather, and I would like to see us acknowledge what they have to
say and respect it instead of questioning if they are okay or whether their mind is drifting away.
That is what I would like to see happen in the decades ahead, so with that thank you.
Vyola: What I want is our culture and language back. We would have our elders, the youth,
children and families be together to do all kinds of things. I guess I’m thinking about just getting
back to the way I was raised by my grandparents. This is hard for me to talk about, because they
are not here anymore. What I want to see for myself, is my grand kids being there with me like I
was with my grandparents, because they were really into the culture. My grandmother taught me
a lot of things like berry picking, and making dry meat and stuff like that, and that is what I would
like to see for myself and other families. I want to see the closeness back the way it was. Just to
be a teacher for the young children in the way it was done, in the old ways and with a lot of the
respect. Nowadays the children don’t know what respect is. [This is not true of] all children, but
one of the main things is learning to respect themselves, respect people, respect the community
and actually all mother earth. I’d see the children having fun together and the people laughing,
sharing and having get-togethers; the people now are not as close as they were before. That is
one of the things I have in my family; closeness, but some people don’t have that with their
children or grand children. That is what I would like to see; happiness with the children laughing
and the little children speaking Cree and just being happy like it used to be long time ago
Clifford: I probably see [my grandfather] talking with other elders about the good old days of
how it used to be when they were young. I don’t think they had that much alcohol a long time
ago. I’m sure he would like to talk about the old days when he used to go hunting and trapping,
because he still talks about it now. When we were staying with him he used to talk for a good
three hours straight, telling us stories of when he used to go trapping and stuff like that.
Alvina: It was good to just sit with your grandma or grandpa and say “oh look at that bird.”
Some days they would say “Oh it is going to rain.” And we would ask how they knew?” It was
just by a certain little bird singing at an odd time. They call it a little rain bird in Cree. If a dog
or horse acts in a certain way by gallivanting and playing [they can predict] what the weather is
going to be. I used to sit there and listen to my grandparents, and while for me it was just an
animal playing or looking at the trees at 6:00 in the morning. We didn’t have to listen to the radio
to find out what the weather or the [next] season was going to be like. My father just looking at
whether the stars are far or near can pretty well forecast a hot or cold winter. Those are some of
things that I would like to see happen instead of that newscast that is lying again. I would tell
little children not to be afraid to go sit with an elder. That is what I would like to see.
Leroy: People forgiving each other, being helping each other, respecting each, getting along
with long lost cousins and speaking to each other, getting close to each other. I have been gone
for since 1972 and came back in 1989 so I sort of have an idea [about] getting back in touch with
each other in the community, healing in the community, opening up to each other, talking, and
sharing in order to heal. Hopefully more healing would have gone on over the next 20 years.
There would be less drinking, less addictions, more of our culture and more people trying to learn
speak our language again. We would be getting back to our customs, our belief systems and
maybe our spirituality too. [There would be] sharing, a lot of sharing. I know when I was a kid
there used to be a lot of that and I don’t see that today. Hopefully in the future I can see that again
as we help each other.
Dorthy: I moved back to Sturgeon Lake and I am very happy to be living here. There is a lot of
stuff that the young people can do and the work will be starting pretty soon on the pipelines; so
there won’t be many people being idle and drinking. There are good people here and a good
school. I see a lot of neighborhood children going to this school. They seem to be happy going
to this school, and when they come home they are happy and they play around. They are good
kids and when I go home I have to put out the candy. A lot of kids come by but they all look the
same to me, so I think they come twice. It is really nice living in Sturgeon Lake. It is a nice
place, nice and clean. If you are ever in Canada, come and visit Sturgeon Lake. There are really
good people here. Come visit, maybe even get a pen pal and write to us. Maybe the nine year
olds could get a pen pal. A lot of us are widows. We could exchange letters or maybe do crafts.
That will be good. They must do all kinds of crafts over there. We could make something and
get a pen pal and send something to the people and show it to the women’s circle. I’ll be happy
to hear from somebody from over there.
Paul: My name is Paul from Sturgeon Lake. I’m just taking one day at a time, getting through
Monday to Friday and I’m having fun in Sturgeon Lake. I would like to see more tourists come
to Sturgeon Lake. I would like them to enjoy the lake. The way things are going the lake is
shrinking and the moose hunting is changing, so be prepared for a change. Focus on alcohol;
when not to drink and when you can drink. Focus on the youth giving them more [attention];
taking them to the leisure center and swimming keep them busy. You can talk to them while they
are getting exercise and recreation. They are getting into hockey right now, but then on a Sunday
there is nothing to do. It would be a good thing to go the pool to get your frustrations out. I
would also like to see the culture come back from the elders. They could present the pipe
ceremony and how to do it. We could have guest speakers come to talk to the youth to tell them
what they went through. That is all for now.
A major theme for many community members was the notion of a return to culture and
community. This was expressed by some as being fulfilled by a cultural centre that where the
community could come together to re-learn their culture and invite others to learn about their
way of life. David Nabew sums up much of this thinking.
David: I guess we can all live in harmony. I went to a couple of culture camps this year and the
things that I saw at the culture camp were good. It was almost as if the people acted different
than we see them in everyday life. In the culture camp they were just laughing and having a good
time. I don’t know if I was the only guy who saw it, but that is something I would like to see.
We have our own culture camp at Goose Lake and we have some other really good places where
we can make a great big camp. It could be similar to Vy’s dream where people get together and
have a big learning multiplex if you will. But my dream is a little simpler. All you need is tents
or teepees and go live there and you can learn from each other. There was a lot of good learning
in those culture camps and that is what I would like to see. I would like to see our chief and
council more involved in our community and more involved in the caring of our people. They
like to tell us they are working for us but sometimes this is questionable. When I come back
twenty years from now I expect to see a school where they are going to be teaching about our
traditional beliefs, culture, spiritual, and values. When I come back twenty years from today I
want to see our community that’s unified; that can be together, that can discuss things together,
that can work together as opposed to fighting against each other. If we could take our negative
energy and turn it into positive energy the things we can accomplish are phenomenal. We can
accomplish a lot of things but we have to believe in ourselves. I would like to see people
believing in themselves, taking responsibility for themselves and saying yes I caused this, yes I
want to change this, this is my fault nobody else’s fault. But often we are so busy blaming
everybody else we forget to look at ourselves and say “yes it is us.” A lot of people don’t realize
we have choices in this world. We choose how we live. If we choose drugs and alcohol then of
course negativity is going to come with it and we are not going to have the lives that we want.
But if we choose a more positive lifestyle and take responsibility for ourselves and if we want to
make things happen, then things can change. There are many things that I would like to see
happen for Sturgeon Lake but I know in my life time I know I might never see it happen, but that
does not matter. I think that as long as we strive for something it is bound to get better. Twenty
years from today we are going to be able to say that some changes have happened and that we
were a part of those changes. We wanted to change our lives so our lives changed but if we
continue to do the things that are not good for us then we are going to be in the same rut twenty
years from now. Hilda will be right the place will have gotten worse instead of better twenty
years from now, but my dream is that our children will be ours and we don’t have to send them
anywhere else. We’ll be able to take care of them like long time ago when the grandparents, the
old people used to take care of and teach the young ones. That is how we became respectful,
because the old people talked to us. Now that is something I would love to see is elders we can
depend on. We won’t have to fight with our elders. We won’t have dysfunctional elders. We
will have elders that will actually help us. That is something that I would like to see happen. It is
hard for me to sit and listen to an elder knowing that elder is going to turn around and do the
opposite from what he was talking about. We have to learn to live and walk our talk. Today
when you go visit somebody it is starting to happen now where they invite you to have some tea
or coffee and something to eat. But a few years back even that was gone. People could not visit
you because you thought that son of a bitch just came to see what my house looks like or see what
I have or who is here. They don’t care. We became suspicious people. We become scared
people. We looked through the cracks of our windows to see who was coming instead of being
wide open and proud. These are some of the things I would like to see happen
There are so many other things like water and our fishing that is being destroyed and we are just
sitting here and we are not caring that our weather is changing. The seasons are changing and I
wonder if I am I going to have a black Christmas or a white one because it has changed so much.
We’ve caused all those changes but those are the things we don’t wish to look at. Our
spirituality, I would like to see sweats happen without people criticizing the sweats. I would like
to see people being doctored by our own people. We don’t even think about these things and I
know I am just a guilty as everyone else. I look after my pocket book so I can spend my money
on my addiction but we don’t care that much and those are things that we need to start doing. We
need to look at each other as people. We are all people whether we are white, black, purple or
what ever color we are. We are people, we all have feelings, and we all have thoughts. We need
to remember this. We need to start on relying on our people and promoting our own people. We
have a lot of smart people in Sturgeon Lake and yet we go and purchase traditional beliefs from
the States or from anywhere else but here. But those people don’t know what happens in
Sturgeon Lake and they don’t know what we need. We need to start thinking Sturgeon Lake. We
need to start believing in our people and building our people up instead of pulling them down.
Those are the things I would like to see twenty years from now and you guys are the ones that are
going to tell me exactly how I’m going to get those things thank you.
Lena: Well it sort of brings me back to teaching the children singing and dancing.
That’s one of the things that we try and they are the easiest ones to teach, but the thing is they
stop at the school; they don’t bring it home. You can express yourself more speaking Cree. It’s
more meaningful and sometimes it is more fun; funny; not to make fun of somebody but the way
you say it you make somebody happy. And like Felix said that here are people around here who
can tan hides so perhaps we can bring the women together to help each other out. I know all the
steps of how to make a hide, but I don’t want to be there alone. I need somebody to help me and
to get together with someone else and make one whole hide.
Felix: I guess that’s what we needed, someone who knows the older women and the younger
generation. Put them together and we have the working knowledge of what to do. It’s great to be
here. The camp it is going to happen. We are going to contact the school as we are trying to put
the culture aspect in this thing, and send the kids for the afternoon to the campground and
possibly make hides. We need the whole community to support one another but we need to have
somebody in place, because most people will stand around and say “yes” but they don’t want to
go ahead and do it.
Vyola: One of the things I would like to see is a big healing center where everybody can go
anytime and just be there to regain our culture and language. We would have our elders and
families to be in together and do all kinds of things I’m thinking about. It is just getting back to
the way I was raised by my grandparents. It is hard to talk about because they are not here
anymore but what I want to see is my grand kids being there with me like I was with my
grandparents. They were really into the culture and my grandmother actually taught me a lot of
things. We used to go berry picking, and make dried meat and stuff like that. That is what I
would like to see for myself and for other families. I want to see the closeness back the way it
was. Just to be a teacher for the young children the way it was done in the old ways and with a
lot of the respect. Today many children don’t know what respect is. That is one of the main
things that we learn to respect ourselves, respect people, respect the community, and actually all
mother earth. That is it.
YOUTH PERSPECTIVES 171
YOUTH PERSPECTIVES
Cast – The Third Generation
The Sturgeon Lake Youth came together to discuss how they viewed their community and what
they believed needed to change. The following is an excerpt of a conversation with these youth
that led to the production of a play and a film entitled “The Third Generation” that provided
them with an opportunity to express their views. A copy of the DVD is attached to this book, as
it tells their story more vividly than words can convey.
That’s a really strong theme of what you were talking about, the connection to community. A lot
of you touched on different ways when you connect to the community, whether it’s with other
youth, whether it’s with sports or whether it is different things. What is it that’s important to you
about the community? What do you look for from the community?
• Togetherness, support, love.
• Trust. Loyalty.
• Respect.
• Communication.
Is there anything that you need from the community to improve that or to enhance it?
• More workshops.
• More outdoor activities or activities where we come together and have good times.
Trust between each other, trust with adults in the community?
• Some are more understanding because people go through different things. Sometimes it’s the
same thing but if it’s different…people just take it the wrong way.
What kinds of issues do you see around you?
• Anger. Jealousy. Greed. All that stuff.
• A lot of jealousy. Dishonesty.
• A lot of violence. People may tend to get violent with their spouses and even their friends –
the people they love.
• A lot of people closing up, not sharing their feelings. Around here they don’t want to share;
they just close it off.
What do you think would be the best way to pull everything together so that the rest of the
community would be able to see what is happening?
• To have a community meeting? For the community to have a meeting about the issues.
• Yes.
How could you go about getting the message across, if you really wanted to find a way that
people would hear this?
• We could make a movie and sell it at our schools and stores.

• …because they would be watching it at home with their families, and they would get a better
concept of it.
We are bringing a professional filmmaker for that session, so we intend to film the play.
We could actually have something we could make DVD’s or VHS’s out of and share it with
people.
• See how they set up the movie The Res – they had the whole thing planned out and how they
acted it out. Seeing the movie, some of the stories…watching it gets me mad because they
are manipulating us in that movie…it’s a good show, but the issues are strong. North of
60…that’s another good one.
• . . . From that show, one of the lead actors, she is part of this drama program, and I could see
about bringing her up here to be a part of it. Maybe she could do some actor
training…maybe she would want to come down if she is free. I don’t know if I can get her
out here, but she would probably want to come if you guys want her help.
That would be cool. If you were to come back in 20 years to Sturgeon Lake and you saw the
community exactly the way you thought it should be, as a place to raise your children, your
grandchildren…you have been away for a long time, and everything has changed and is
exactly the way you think it should be. Tell me what you see.
• Nice green grass, no littering anywhere, no garbage on the ground. The parks would be all
fixed.
• Everybody would stop and say hello, ask if you need a ride.
• You would catch all the crack dealers and everything…
• A lot of counseling, a lot of trust building and a lot of everything that we could do to work on
each other in helping out. Going on this side of the community and helping out, going on that
side of the community and helping out – all work together to make the community a better
place for ourselves.
• Everybody helping out, cleaning up…if you see garbage on the ground, pick it up and keep
on walking.
• Better schools. We should get money for the schools…
Who do you think can make these things happen?
• Us.
• The people around us.

• The next generation.
If you were Chief and Council, what kinds of changes would you like to see?
• Better playgrounds, safer playgrounds.
• Asking them to take control of the weeds and letting the grass grow nice and green and tall…
• More traditional activities. Maybe like having a summer school for Native kids who want to
learn the language.
• Open a youth centre…
• Perhaps to have all the Elders who know how to speak and do all this stuff, just to pass it
down in one big camp.
Do you think it would work?
• If you ask the Elders politely, get some of this and some of that…just for helping out the
group or whatever.
• We could even have a course, like a Native course where we could actually earn something in
the end . . . where you could get a prize or something like that, a reward. Whoever is the best
could get a bike or something.
Are you proud to be a Native?
• All the time.
• I’m proud.
• I wish I could be more Native…I don’t have the language, the traditions…you know how
people have their certain things in their houses to protect from evil spirits . . . .
• Do you know what would be good about that is if the government actually supported it.
Because of what they did with the residential schools and everything, what they took away
from us they could at least give it back.
• Yeah. At least give some of it back to our generation, since they took it away from us.
• It’s not even our fault; we were just born at the wrong time.
• To have some Elders that actually speak Cree fluently, to have them come to help us out and
we can learn our traditions.
• I went to _____, and they speak Cree…I thought that was right on. I didn’t think they spoke
straight Cree…. They still do their old traditions.
Every year do you think a lot of people would go?

• There is a school in Calgary called the Indian cultural survival school, and it was open for
about 20 years. The government paid for it. The teachings were all about history and the
legacy of residential school abuse. Elders were on the staff and all the teachers were Native.
It was one of the most successful schools in the city for many, many years. The government
has done it in the past, so I don’t see why they wouldn’t do it in the future too.
I will just finish with a little story. A long time ago, there was a person who was walking by
the river, and somebody was coming down this river that was flowing really quickly, and
they were drowning. So she jumped in there, pulled this person out of the river, did mouth
to mouth and saved this person’s life. The village came around, and they were really proud
of her, saying that she was a hero for saving this person. A week or two later, she was
walking by the river again, and there was somebody else drowning. So she jumps in and
saves that person – pulls him out, saves his life. People are just applauding her. Over time,
she kept walking by the river, and every time she would walk there, people were drowning –
the river was rough and turbulent and deep, full of rocks and pitfalls. She was so busy
saving people from drowning, that finally they had to hire somebody to work with her –
they had to give her a job and ask her to do this for a living. So they hired her, then they
hired an assistant to work with her since so many people were drowning. After a while they
got so busy that they had to hire a supervisor to make sure that they were doing this life
saving business properly. Then they had to write policy manuals about how to save a
drowning person -–you take off your shoes, you jump in the river this way, you grab the
person this way – spelling everything out…finally they had this big business going on about
how many people were drowning, how many people were getting paid to save them.
Finally, this first person who saved someone from drowning started walking back
upstream. They asked her where she was going, saying that she couldn’t leave since there
was so much work to do, saving all these people. She said “No, I think I’m going to go back
upstream and see who is throwing these people in the river in the first place.”
• Who was it?
Monsters. Poverty, alcoholism, violence, people feeling lost, people losing their sense of who
they are, people losing their sense of self-esteem, people being isolated from each other and
not feeling the strength of their community, the support. All these things were the monsters
that were throwing the people in the river. Part of this is to go back up river and ask what
is making things in the community that we don’t want to see, and how do we go back and
make sure that people feel safe, feel loved, and don’t feel threatened. And how people who
feel pain in their souls don’t have to turn to alcohol or drugs to make themselves feel better,
so that they can turn to each other. Those are the monsters throwing people in the river.
Some people think that what has developed as an industry is really just something that deals
with all the casualties – it’s saving people from drowning, but it’s not giving them a better
life so that they don’t have to fall in the river. That is my philosophy, and that’s after 40
years in this business. I think you guys did a fantastic job. The kids sat on the stage and
presented to them what they found, and it was one of the most powerful things that I have
seen. It came straight from the heart. The youth told the story the way it was, the way they
saw it, and that was what gave it power. It wasn’t somebody doing a study. It was coming
from them. People need to hear it from youth if we are to change.
STORIES OF HOPE 179
STORIES OF HOPE
Participants in the Creating Hope for the Future gathering shared what had given them hope for
the future. The following are excerpts of these conversations. It will be noted that perhaps
unsurprisingly, they are related to relationships with people who touched their lives in ways that
demonstrated respect and belief in their capacity as people. Some were brief and others
permanent and ongoing. All were memorable.
A red-headed balding Irishman

. . . Where I got my first sense of hope, first sense of belonging somewhere was through a teacher
when I was about 12 years old. [He was] a total stranger, a red-headed, balding little Irishman. I
felt a connection with him when I first started school early in the fall and it was later on in the
school season. I used to write a lot of poetry and that was my escape in dealing with my pain. I
wasn’t paying attention in class and I was just zoned out of the classroom. I was writing some
poetry and he hollered out my name and right away I hid my paper and my pencil. He dug it out
and he read what I had written. For the first time I could connect with somebody ‘cause when he
read it, I could see the tears coming out of his eyes and he kept telling, he said “don’t give up, life
will get better, your poetry will get better” and so I still remember that guy, just seems like
yesterday.
An old man
I had never have experienced my culture and it’s something our forefathers had done for
thousands of years. This elder chose me as I was standing there beside the fire. I didn’t know
what was supposed to be done. Everybody had their own little groups from the pow wow trail or
from the sweats that they’d done before so I stood alone and didn’t know what was expected of
me. This elder came and talked to me. Apparently we stood there for an hour and a half, it just
seemed as though I stood there for fifteen minutes. He started talking to me about the creator and
about the grandfathers and the grandmothers, relatives that had passed on. Explained to me about
there is no such thing as hell. That is something that the priests had instilled in our mind. He
explained to me the four principles of life, the four directions. He said “who’s Jesus?” I could
not answer him because I learned all about Jesus through the residential school. Then he said
“Jesus was never here, the man in the black robe…he said this in Cree…he brought him over in a
big ship”. He said your grandfather and your grandmother never knew who Jesus was. And that
day, that word stuck in my mind and ever since then, I have followed the traditional way of life.
My mother and the Creator

The biggest inspiration in my life, changing my life around is my mother. I say “is my mother”
because I truly believe that my mother is still with me in spirit. She passed on in 1980 and there
were a few things my mother told me that I laughed at during that time. My mother told me three
things. That I was going to quit drinking and I laughed at her and I said “me quit drinking?
Never! I just laughed it off. The second thing she told me was you’re going to find yourself a
woman that’s going to look after you and I said “who in the hell wants a drunk?” You see I
wasn’t listening and I just laughed it off. The last thing she told me was “you’re going to get a
good job” and again I said “who in the hell wants to hire a drunk?” In1983, I was lonely in the
drunk tank and the turning point of my life [took place] in the drunk tank. I didn’t know why I
was bloody and the officer wouldn’t tell me why I was in there and when I asked to get out, he
said “no, I’m not letting you go”. That’s when I knelt down, I cried for the first time. I cried and
I prayed to the creator and I said “I’m not bargaining with you this time, this time I’m serious.”
He must have been listening to me because that was the last time I was in a drunk tank and that I
drank . . . I was going to treatment. To make a long story short, I did quit drinking, I’m still sober
today and I did go back to school and I got a good job. And then I got married, I got all these
three things now. …My mom had left me a house, everything inside and one day I was at home
there and it dawned on me that what my mom had said three years prior. My dreams and what
my mom said, they all came true and here I thought I wasn’t listening to my mother
A beautiful native man (an angel?)
I was depressed and drunk so I crawled underneath the bench and fell asleep, passed out. This
man picked me out from there, slapping me in the face, and he’s was just shaking me and I
opened up my eyes and there was this beautiful native looking man. Oh he was so gorgeous and
he had lions in his piercing green eyes. He said “what are you doing, what are you doing to
yourself? Look at you! It’s 7:00 in the morning. Do you want to be picked up and thrown in the
tank?” And then he was gone. I’d gone to treatment before and I tried to stay sober. That was an
angel you know, that came to me that time. . .
A black lady in Edmonton
I have a buddy in Edmonton. She’s a black woman, the greatest woman you ever seen. I was
feeling down one day and I was saying “geez, there’s so much prejudice and racism in the world
you know and I have a hard time with that” and she says “you know Bert, if you look for
STORIES OF HOPE 181
prejudice and racism, you’re going to find it so you look somewhere else, you look for other
things”. Just a kindly lady you know, just a couple of sentences and I’ve been good for three
months so you find inspiration everywhere and you find it in this circle today.
A social worker
I had some trouble in my own life and ended up in some counseling and this counselor, as it
turned out, happened to be a social worker. I remember describing to her a bit about how I was
feeling and I saw her start to tear up and that profoundly impacted me because I felt like she
really understood and that, from that point on, I decided I needed to be a social worker too. And
then I started to hang out with kids, teenagers. I’ve always been very interested in teenagers, I
think ‘cause I found being a teenager very difficult and so I’ll never forget one of the first kids I
had a chance to hang out with and this was a young lady who was spending a lot of time in the
downtown area and was on the brink of prostitution and she was living in this residential program
and I was staff, very eager and very naïve and I remember asking her you know, “ why do you do
this, why do you go run away, why do you go downtown and hang out down there and get
yourself into all kinds of trouble?” and she said “because the people down there are my friends
and they understand me.” I said “really”. She said “yeah, they watch my back for me” and that
was so profound for me that she was so connected with people who, in lots of ways, unhealthy for
her, that I stopped and really had to think about that, what she might have experienced in her life
that the safest people for her were people who were selling her drugs, who were buying her body,
who were, in some ways, hurting her and what that taught me was that I had to listen and really
try to understand what it’s like for the other person.
My dad
I guess the most inspiring person in my life was my dad but I didn’t realize that until I had to do
his eulogy and part of what I had to write were what he taught me. I guess one of the things he
told me, at age sixteen I got pregnant eh and when my son was born and he was white, his dad is
white and when he was born, I thought “oh my god, my mom and dad will probably hate me” and
I brought him home, well he actually sent my mom to come and tell me, ‘cause I was going to
give him up for adoption and he sent my mom to come and see me at the hospital and he told her
to tell me that I better not give up my own flesh and blood, to bring him home and that everything
was going to be okay. So I brought my little white guy home, he was bald and just pale and
brought him home and here my dad, I got out of the cab ‘cause we didn’t have a vehicle, got out
of the cab, here my dad walks out of the house, he just goes like this…and he was crying, he took
my son, he was crying ‘cause that was his first grandchild that was white, of course, but anyways
what he told me was, he said, “now that you have a child, you go back to school, you finish your
schooling and be somebody.”
God
I took up believing and trusting in God because I couldn’t trust anything else. And He was
always there and He never left me. My creator was there all the time and that’s my inspiration.
I’ve learned to forgive and to start trusting little children, people, adults, I try to help them in
every way I can today.
My children and my caseload
I think my very first inspiration came following his birth when they handed me my child and said
“now you got to nurse him” and I’m looking down at this kid whose like all gooey and I’m
thinking “aw yuck” but then you realize and I realized at that time that life isn’t only about me
anymore. I had to take a lot of thought about how now I have to be responsible for this little
helpless child who has nobody else in the world but me to protect him and make sure he gets
everything he needs in life and make sure he’s loved and you know, he gets everything he
deserves. So that was my first little bit of inspiration. Now I’ve got two more that followed so
I’ve got three of my own who show me every day and give me strength everyday to keep going
and to keep strong and keep working for my family and for my people and then now I work with
kids on my own case load who also give me strength because I see their resiliency in everything
they’ve gone through and I know I’ve done some of my job when you’ve got the world’s baddest
kid on your caseload, so you think and they don’t want to talk to you and they don’t want to reach
out to you and you’re just the most evil person ‘cause you’re the social worker but you know
you’ve done something when they start calling you and saying “how are you doing?” or just
calling to let you know that they’re okay. So that’s my inspiration in knowing that I can make a
difference in the lives of, not only my kids but also the other kids out there who may feel
abandoned or may feel alone and need somebody out there to help them out.
My family
We’re talking about inspiration and hope which has been the theme for the last several hours
today. I mean, I’ve been blessed by having a very supportive family. My mother, my father, four
siblings and I say by being supportive, a lot of times they were the ones that pushed me. Being
STORIES OF HOPE 183
the youngest in the family, I was constantly being compared to three older brothers that were
faster and smarter and better then I was. I was always convinced them they were wrong and I
was the faster, smarter and better one but that love that we had in our family is very much where I
get my inspiration.
Lucky to have many people in my life
Just thinking a lot, I’ve had loss in life and crisis and people leave my life suddenly that were
very close to me and I still think of myself as a very lucky guy. I grew up with lots of love and
hugs and that’s not something to be taken for granted when I hear the stories that I’ve heard
today. I had my tailspins but somehow I was taught by those people that have come in and out of
my life to find joy right now. The life you want is not some other place down the road, it’s right
here and share laughter, talk, visit and enjoy each other and what really brought it home for me is
my son’s got diagnosed with autism and so there’s the realization that he will not be a person on
his own maybe, that he will be forever vulnerable and the big thing we realized when we heard it,
we went to a drive through on the way back from the hospital and we thought “well what do we
do?”, the one thing that was said was as long as if he could talk to us, if he could tell us he
realized he knew joy, he knew what it was like to feel happy and to feel love then everything else
is icing on the cake, so that’s my inspiration. I thank those people in my life who taught that to
me.
My grandmother
My grandmother always told me to respect myself, respect people, no matter who they are, what
they look like, how they dress. Give them a coffee, don’t start talking and asking questions,
making fun of them, mocking them; those were her teachings and that’s what I’ve always tried to
hang on to, even when I was drinking. If somebody somehow hurt my feelings and I’d get angry
and try do things in revenge my grandmother used to tell me . . . you’re not the one that’s
hurting, just forgive that person. You don’t know what that person is like, maybe they’re hurting
too or maybe that person had lost someone, just be nice.” And it was so hard for me to be nice
when somebody saying something bad about me or that just beat me up
My mother
For the first four years of my life I had my mother and she loved me and so that is always an
inspiration. That I had my mother for these really formative years and then with some of the
other things that I went through you know, being called a dirty little Indian and that I was stupid
and all that other stuff, it really affected my self-esteem and who I saw myself as and…but it also
helped to strengthen me and toughen me so that as I was growing up into an adult, I still didn’t
believe a lot in myself but I figured I’ve got to be strong and I’ve got to be tough if I’m going to
make it and I’m going to make it. So and then at one point in my life, I’d been in an abusive
relationship and I was in Manitoba and my sister helped me to get back to Alberta and she said
“well come and go to university” and I was like, I’m thinking “I can’t go to university ‘cause I’m
not smart enough to go to university” and I really questioned if I’d be able to and she kept you
know, saying “no, you can do it, you come and register” so I did go to university and was
surprised that I could do that and that even just walking through things and realizing that what
people said wasn’t always true and that I could overcome things and then the experience I had
and I don’t see myself as religious, I see myself as having a personal relationship with Jesus
Christ and to know that the forgiveness, you know that he died for me and the forgiveness that
he’s given me for all that I’ve done wrong in my life because although I had a number of things
happen to me that were very difficult, the way I was dealing with that with drinking and drugs
and all the other things that I did was part of my own responsibility because I chose to walk that
way and I got forgiveness for all those things and so I asked for help to forgive those people that
had hurt me because there were a lot of times where I knew I didn’t have that in me to do the
forgiving and so I said “I choose to forgive, I may not fully feel like I can do it but I know if I
make that choice too and I ask for help to do that, that I’ve made that step and that’s what has
helped me walk through the healing is that being able to forgive and to know that there is good in
life and that I can walk in a good journey and even though there is still struggles and stuff, I have
joy and I have…you know I feel good about who I am now and that I can be an example for my
children. I’ve got five children and you know, their also an inspiration and it’s just…as I
continue to work through and to heal, it makes me feel good to be able to do what I can to help
other people.
Animals
Guess when I was real little, I think for me the…I shouldn’t say real little maybe ten/twelve years
old, it was animals that I was on, was always put on farms and being able to go out and interact
with the livestock is kind of what saved me because you could trust them to a certain degree not
to talk back to you, allow you to talk even, just to be there and I think to me it’s what creator put
in my path was those animals to help me and so I think that was kind of the first thing for me.
STORIES OF HOPE 185
A great foster family

In one foster home I happened to be in which was right at the very tail end of my career under the
guidance of being a ward of the court was a Mennonite family and it happened to be the best
home that I was ever in because they were not hypocrites. They, what they said they did, they
gave unconditional love. They had all kinds of rules, it was a little bit late for me, by then I was
fifteen/sixteen years old and pretty ingrained in my ways but no matter what I did, they were
constant and it took me, I think I was like thirty-five or maybe even forty before I could even go
back to them and thank them for what they’d given to me back then and it took me a long time for
that. The next biggest inspiration you know, it’s kind of sad but I was in a marriage for seventeen
years and I got a divorce and my children chose me, to stay with me after the divorce and that
was so powerful for…’cause I could really accept that someone really loved me and then I took a
healing course at…out in my community and when I was done it, you had to give something back
to the community, you had to do something and so I chose to teach Sunday school to the little
children right and they in turn taught me with their unconditional love and trust and it was a big
thing for me and I guess one of my bigger things to is my sister ‘cause she’s great and she doesn’t
even know. I guess I’m still learning to be thankful for what I went through because it makes me
and makes us who we are.
These days we’re born again Christians and we have lost friends because of that and people, they
laugh and scoff and so what, this has been our way of dealing with things in order to get the hope
here, in order to be able to forgive, in order to acquire all these kind of characteristics that we
believe will help us not to hang on to all of the bitterness and anger and to try and teach our
children that they don’t have to do those things as well, so I have to just say simply that, it will
always be my way of life. I’ll always be a believer and sometimes you know, like that gives
us…kind of causes conflict and stuff like that but if, the question is what gives you the best, the
inspiration, right today and probably until the day I die, that’s what it will be.
My grandfather
Just sitting here going back through all the different things going through my life, I think I have
four. Is it okay if I name them all? Okay, the first one will be my grandfather, he taught me a lot
through childhood. A lot of things, you respect the values, everything. Even when I was
pregnant, he made, he bought he went and bought the cloth, flannelette and said you have to use
this for the diapers. He took me to Ernie’s and got how many feet of flannelette and he showed
me how to fold the diaper, how to make a diaper. My mom wasn’t there for me, she was at that
time, living in Edmonton so he taught me how to breastfeed and to make sure I breastfed. When
a baby’s nose was plugged make sure you squish the milk, put it in baby’s nose and put him up
on his or her stomach and the stuffiness will unclog. A lot of that was stuff that my mom should
have taught me but she wasn’t there, it was my grandfather. So he’s my inspiration because he
taught me motherhood and the second one would be my husband. I met him at fifteen years old
so he raised me up, we grew up together so I thank God for putting him in my life and he’s still in
my life after 24 years. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t know maybe I’d have been six feet under or in
jail ‘cause I was the drinker, I was the one that would party, party and then he’s not a drinker, he
just used to say “Well I’m a follower and I have to do what she does” like he used to follow me
and so I thank God for having him there. He’s the one who controlled my life throughout all of
my life. The third one would be a woman I met two years ago at an Aboriginal Cancer Retreat in
Edmonton. I met this lady at a circle like this of Aboriginal woman survivors of cancer or
patients go through cancer. It’s a yearly thing that Aboriginal woman attend. There was one
woman where, oh my god, after listening to her story battling breast cancer for six years then I
thought that if she can do it, I can do it. Then somehow we just connected. After the circle, we
started talking, we hugged each other and we all exchanged phone numbers and addresses and for
this last two and a half years, I kept in touch with her, I went to visit her then she lost the battle
this year but she was my inspiration. She was the one who pulled me through; she was my
strength, my rock. If I was depressed I’d phone her up and she’d cheer me up you know. I went
to visit her in her last days at the hospital and I went to the funeral but it was her that really
inspired me, encouraged me to go on, to fight this battle like she fought it for eight years so that’s
the third one that inspired me. The main one is God himself. If I wouldn’t have turned through
prayer to God in 1991 to ask him for help in dealing with what I was going through raising all my
brothers and sisters and being mad at my mother and stuff like that. I just seek God. I don’t
know how to explain it. I know He helped me through and through this cancer too. If it wasn’t
through seeking God to help me, comfort me, give me peace, heal me, I wouldn’t be here, I
would have given up. I would have maybe started drinking, I would have committed suicide,
anything might have happened but He was there for me and He’s still here for me. God Bless you
all.
My father
STORIES OF HOPE 187
You know, with my dad, I didn’t really have a daughter and father relationship like you know
‘because I was raised in the mission. I never had the hugs from my dad and he never carried me
on his lap or anything but when I was younger, when started having children, he used to always
be there and I never seen a man cry in my life before, I seen my dad cry when I lost my firstborn.
He just cried, he went behind that house and he just cried and I thought, “I never thought men
cried” and he said that this was his first grandchild and I lost him. You know, he was a man, you
know to see him cry but I never thought men cried and then there’s my grandchildren, I like the
saying “we should have had the grandchildren first.” They’re my inspiration especially this five
year old, six now. He’s something else in my book, you know, he inspires me and he asks me
questions. I talk to him in Cree. You know, I taught Cree at Headstart for three years but I took
time off for a year. He’s been getting trophies from the school here for Cree and that’s an
inspiration and I think I’m the inspiration to him. I’m an inspiration to those little children that
I’m teaching Cree ‘cause they lost it because we didn’t teach them when they were younger.
Even our own children, we didn’t teach, we lost it along the way. You know, they went to
Valleyview School and now they’re….now we’re teaching our children to learn Cree when it
should have been there all along. But anyway, those are my people that inspired me through life
and I try and follow what they said. Even my dad said “when you go to bed, clean the kitchen
before you go to bed. You never know what person will come through the door in the morning.”
He’d leave us sleeping and he’d be cleaning up the kitchen before anybody came and visit. I
always remember those little things about my people that have inspired me in my life. I don’t
know where I’d be today if I didn’t have my grandchildren, those are my biggest ones. Thank
you.
My dad
For me, I guess my biggest inspiration is my dad. He always said “get an education, don’t rely on
your treaty rights” and I did that but I guess there’s other people have inspired me. A lot of them
are elders, quite a few of them are gone but I still have elders here. It’s not just to do with
education, it’s how to be a good provider, how to clean your house, all those teachings and I get a
lot of inspiration and I think we have a lot of great elders and it’s kind of sad because up to about
my generation is the last Cree speaking. The ones younger now when…we sit with the elders and
we’re talking will ask “what did you guys say? What did you guys say?” So you kind of have to
translate and you lose the translation so it’s kind of sad. I hope we get our language back but I
think we do take our elders for granted sometimes and they are a great inspiration. Thank you.
TOWARDS HEALING AND RECONCILIATION 189
TOWARDS HEALING AND RECONCILIATION
The devastating individual and cultural impact of residential schools on Aboriginal people is well
documented. The abuse and neglect suffered not only affected these children’s future, but also
the lives of their descendants, whose families have been characterized by further abuse and
neglect. As the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (1994) concluded, “these effects have
carried over to several generations and may well be the basis for the dysfunction we see in
individuals, families, and entire Native communities” (p.83).
The trauma that Aboriginal people experienced through their history of genocide that has been
passed on from generation to generation, continues to impact lives and perpetuate many of the
problems manifested in Aboriginal communities (Milloy, 1999; Wesley-Esquimaux &
Smolewski, 2004). According to the Aboriginal Healing Foundation (1999):
When trauma is ignored and there is no support for dealing with it, the trauma
will be passed from one generation to the next. What we learn to see as "normal"
when we are children, we pass on to our own children. Children who learn
that...sexual abuse is normal, and who have never dealt with the feelings that
come from this, may inflict physical and sexual abuse on their own children.
This is the legacy of physical and sexual abuse in residential schools (p.A5).
Residential schools and child welfare placements have also impeded the transference of positive
parenting skills from one generation to the next, which has led to troubled family relationships
and difficulties raising children (Milloy, 1999; York, 1990). Milloy adds that “In residential
schools, [children] learned that adults often exert power and control through abuse. The lessons
learned in childhood are often repeated in adulthood with the result that many survivors of the
residential school system often inflict abuse on their own children,” (p. 299) resulting in inter-
generational cycles of abuse.
Other well-documented impacts linked to this history include suicide, post-traumatic stress
disorder, alcohol and drug abuse, gambling, somatic disorders, domestic violence, crime, and
child abuse (Bennett & Blackstock, 2002; Berry & Brink, 2004; Stout & Kipling, 2003; Wesley-
Esquimaux & Smolewski, 2004).
Aboriginal communities continue to deal with many of these and other problems today. Indeed,
the number of children in care is only one of a range of issues facing Aboriginal children,
families, and communities today. For example, in Canada Aboriginal youth are more likely to
live in single parent homes, drop out of school, be homeless, abuse alcohol and drugs (including
solvents), commit suicide, and live in poverty than non-Aboriginal youth (Indian and Northern
Affairs Canada, 2004; Richard, 2004; Statistics Canada, 2004b; Trocme, Knoke, & Blackstock,
2004). Similarly, Aboriginal people in general are disproportionately impacted by a range of
social economic and health issues such as poverty, unemployment, crime, violence, alcohol and
drug abuse, HIV/AIDS, diabetes, sexually transmitted infections, tuberculosis, and suicide
(Health Canada, 2000; Lee, 2000). Suicide for example, is the leading cause of death for youth
and adults up to 44 years old, and urban Aboriginals are more than twice as likely to live in
poverty as non-Aboriginal people (Health Canada, 2000; Lee, 2000). Indian and Northern Affairs
Canada further reported that 16% of homes on reserves were in need of major repairs, and 5%
were unsafe or uninhabitable (Health Canada, 2000). Likewise, a study by the Department of
Indian and Northern Affairs (1996, as cited in Bennett & Blackstock, 2002), concluded that
Aboriginal people living on reserves would rank 80th in the world if measured by the United
Nations Human Development Index. By contrast, as a country, Canada ranks first in the world.
It is clear that most Aboriginal communities have placed much of their hope for changing the
situation described thus far in a return to traditional values. As a speaker at the Royal
Commission on Aboriginal Peoples said (1994. p.48),
Those communities who have had the most success in dealing with the
psychological legacy of colonialism are those that have found a way to operate
within their cultural context and drawing on…the spiritual and other strengths
that are present in their culture.
In recent years, Aboriginal people have resolved to overcome the pain and loss that were the
legacy of colonization through healing, reconciliation, and self-determination (Aboriginal
Healing Foundation, 1999; Berry & Brink, 2004). A major part of healing and reconciliation is
the building on of the strengths and resilience of Aboriginal people and the reclaiming of
Aboriginal culture, identity, and pride (Aboriginal Healing Foundation, 1999; Berry & Brink,
2004). Indeed, Aboriginal people are mobilizing to recover from the trauma and oppression of
residential schools and genocide, revitalizing their language, customs, spirituality, traditions,
values, and beliefs (York, 1990). York (1990) concludes that today, “evidence of a cultural
TOWARDS HEALING AND RECONCILIATION 191
revival can be seen across Canada… is just one step toward regaining what has been lost” (p.
264).
From a broader perspective, the healing of Aboriginal people may be facilitated through cultural
approaches based on an Aboriginal worldview. The colonization of Aboriginal people introduced
an Anglo-European ideology based on values of individualism, power, control, and efficiency
(Cajete, 2000). These are radically different from Aboriginal world views and philosophy, which
are based on an “organic, holistic concept of the world; spiritual and harmonious relationships to
the land and all life forms; communalism; personal duties and responsibilities to the band/tribe;
social and economic justice, equality, and sharing; [and] universal and consensual participation in
decision making” (Boldt, 1993, p. 183). An Aboriginal world view can also be conceptualized as
an eco-philosophy which values the interconnectedness of people to the universe and to each
other, emphasizing co-operation, creativity, connectedness, balance, ritual, and ceremony (Cajete,
2000). Cajete (2000) concludes that Aboriginal philosophy or science is “in every sense an
expression of the evolutionary interrelationship of Native people with nature” (p. 58).
Boldt (1993) further emphasizes that in order for Aboriginal people to thrive; Aboriginal culture
must be adapted and developed to be relevant, practical, and successful for the modern world.
This adaptation “speaks to the need to bridge the past and present in such a way as to allow
Indians to be part of the twentieth century without betraying the fundamental philosophies and
principles of the ancient covenants” (p. 183). Such a bridge demands ongoing planning,
collaboration, and cooperation between elders and youth, as elders transmit the philosophies and
principles of the culture, and youth help to make these relevant to today’s economic, political, and
social environment (Boldt, 1993). However, in order for Aboriginal people to develop their
culture in ways that allow them to thrive in a contemporary world whilst identifying with their
own heritage, they must first break from the culture of dependence created during years of
colonization (Boldt, 1993). Breaking this cycle of dependency represents a significant challenge
for Aboriginal communities in Canada today.
IMPLICATIONS FOR THE FUTURE 193
IMPLICATIONS FOR THE FUTURE
The short and long-term impacts of residential schools on Aboriginal children, communities, and
culture are well documented. In addition to the trauma of being removed from their families and
communities, children suffered numerous abuses in residential schools, including physical,
sexual, psychological and emotional abuse (e.g. verbal abuse, forbidding Aboriginal languages or
spiritual practices), as well as unsuitable living conditions (e.g. inadequate nutrition) (Royal
Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, as cited in Chrisjohn et al., 1994). Among the most
detrimental effects of residential schools reported in the literature are a sense of alienation, loss of
identity and self-esteem, lack of parenting skills, family breakdown, intergenerational trauma and
violence, and loss of language, culture, spirituality and pride (Horejsi & Craig, 1992; Ing, 1991;
Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, 1994; Spicer, 1998; Stout & Kipling, 2003; Wesley-
Esquimaux & Smolewski, 2004). The Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (1994)
concluded that “these effects have carried over to several generations and may well be the basis
for the dysfunction we see in individuals, families and entire Native communities” (p.83).
Indeed, the trauma Aboriginal people experienced through their history of genocide, including
residential schools, has been passed on from generation to generation and continues to impact the
lives and perpetuate many of the problems manifested in Aboriginal communities (Milloy, 1999;
Wesley-Esquimaux & Smolewski, 2004). Residential schools have also impeded the transference
of parenting skills from one generation to the next, which has led to troubled family relationships
and difficulties raising children (Milloy, 1999; York, 1990). Milloy adds that “In residential
schools, [children] learned that adults often exert power and control through abuse. The lessons
learned in childhood are often repeated in adulthood with the result that many survivors of the
residential school system often inflict abuse on their own children,” and so on in subsequent
generations (p. 299). Other well-documented impacts linked to residential schools include
suicide, post-traumatic stress disorder, alcohol and drug abuse, gambling, somatic disorders,
domestic violence, crime and child abuse (e.g. Bennett & Blackstock, 2002; Berry & Brink, 2004;
Horejsi & Craig, 1992; Stout & Kipling, 2003; Wesley-Esquimaux & Smolewski, 2004).
Aboriginal people and communities continue to deal with many of these and other problems
today. Indeed, the number of children in care is only one of a range of issues facing Aboriginal
children, families, and communities today. For example, Aboriginal youth are more likely to live
in single parent homes, drop out of school, be homeless, abuse alcohol and drugs (including
solvents), commit suicide and live in poverty than non-Aboriginal youth in Canada (Indian and
Northern Affairs Canada, 2004; Richard, 2004; Statistics Canada, 2004b; Trocme, Knoke, &
Blackstock, 2004). Similarly, Aboriginal people in general are disproportionately impacted by a
range of social economic and health issues such as poverty, unemployment, crime, violence,
alcohol and drug abuse, HIV/AIDS, diabetes, sexually transmitted infections, tuberculosis and
suicide (Health Canada, 2000; Lee, 2000; Moore, 2003). For example, suicide is the leading
cause of death for youth and adults up to 44 years old and urban Aboriginals are more than twice
as likely to live in poverty as non-Aboriginal people (Health Canada, 2000; Lee, 2000). Indian
and Northern Affairs Canada further reported that 16% of homes on reserves were in need of
major repairs, and 5% were unsafe or inhabitable (Health Canada, 2000). Similarly, a study by
the Department of Indian and Northern Affairs (1996, as cited in Bennett & Blackstock, 2002),
concluded that Aboriginal people living on reserves would rank 80th in the world if measured by
the United Nations Human Development Index. As a country, Canada ranks first in the world.
Cultural Crisis
“The massive forces of forced assimilation, loss of traditional means of subsistence, and isolation
have reduced Indian cultures into patchworks of remnants and voids. The result is a cultural crisis
manifested by a breakdown of social order in Indian communities.” (Boldt, 1993, p. 176)
Beyond individual impacts, the continued experience of genocide, “the systematic destruction of
cultural patterns, beliefs, and social and normative systems and structures…has had a devastating
impact on Indian culture” and has resulted in a cultural crisis (Boldt, 1993, p. 169). York (1990)
adds that government policies and societal attitudes of colonization and genocide, including the
child welfare experience, have left Aboriginal people “dispossessed of their culture, their
language, their children… their power of self-determination” and their land (p. 269). For
instance, currently, it is estimated that fifty of fifty-three of Canada’s Aboriginal language are in
danger of extinction, and that only one quarter of Aboriginal people know enough of an
Aboriginal language to carry on a conversation (Statistics Canada, 2004b; York, 1990). In short,
the crisis of Aboriginal culture is evidenced the loss of identity and sense of self, loss of
connections to community and family, loss of a sense of belonging, loss of language and culture,
and loss of tradition and a sense of history.
The cultural crisis in Aboriginal communities is also evidenced by the development of a culture
of dependence as well as cultural degeneration or loss of culture (Boldt, 1993). For example,
Canada’s policy of isolating Aboriginal people on reserves has denied them the opportunity to
“adapt and develop their traditional cultures as effective designs for living and surviving in the
changing world around them.” (Boldt, 1993, p. 171). These policies were essentially racist in
nature, as they were based on notions that Aboriginal people were primitive and lazy, thus
justifying the destruction of their tribal ways and practices (Bastien, 2004). Government policies
led to a loss of economic self-sufficiency and transition from independence to dependence on
government assistance, both as individuals and communities. The result of these changes has
been a new culture of dependence and the transmission of that culture (Boldt, 1993).
Bastien (2004) adds that the eradication of Aboriginal culture has resulted in “unprecedented
conditions of dependency by virtue of the destruction of kinship alliances and the emergence of
isolated, individualistic…and dissociated [selves]” (p. 27, 29). Other factors that have
contributed to the culture of dependence include Aboriginal people’s experience with colonial
oppression, ethnocentrism, residential schools, injustice and imprisonment (Boldt, 1993). Boldt
(1993) concludes that today, the culture of dependence is more central to Aboriginal identity than
traditional culture.
This form of genocide means that traditional social systems, patterns, and practices have
disappeared or become progressively irrelevant as a direct or indirect result of government
interference. Thus, many traditional values and ways have stopped being part of Aboriginal
culture in a meaningful sense and have undermined Aboriginal people’s capacity to thrive (Boldt,
1993). Boldt (1993) concludes that the current cultural crisis in Aboriginal communities is “so
grave that Indians will not survive as Indians unless they initiate immediate and intensive
measures to revitalize their traditional cultural philosophies, principles, social and normative
systems, and languages” (p. 167).
Chrisjohn, Young & Maraun (1994, p. 110) state, “a major requirement for undoing what has
been done is full recognition of what has been done.” Thus, recognizing and acknowledging the
colonization and genocide of Aboriginal people is a critical foundation for reconciliation and
healing. The creation of a new vision is not without its challenges. On the one hand, there is a
strong and continuing desire among many Aboriginal people and their allies to build upon
traditional Aboriginal strengths and values such as courage, respect for each other and for nature,
the oral tradition and the wisdom of the elders, a deep connection with each other and mother
earth, a consistent application of spirituality to all of life. Cultural camps and some models of
practice provide concrete examples of the power of these concepts to improve daily life.
On the other hand, the loss of culture and tradition that has resulted from colonisation continues
to affect the lives of Aboriginal people, and “Western” people are often unaware of the
oppressive impact of their assumptions, beliefs and attitudes toward Aboriginal people. While
policy has changed to counter these experiences, historian Lise Noel (2000) reminds us that
systemic colonization is grounded in intolerance. This intolerance comes from unconscious
assumptions that underlie “normal institutional rules and collective reactions.” In systemic
colonization, Noel suggests these rules and reactions are imbedded in the consciousness of all and
so engrained in our lives that the oppressed cannot point to any single form of oppression, -and
the oppressor becomes invisible. As a consequence, the responsibility for colonization and
assimilation is assigned to the oppressed – and, when that process does not meet institutional
rules and expectations, it is identified as further evidence of the inability of the oppressed to
determine their own directions. Nowhere is this process more evident than in health, education,
and services to children – and it still continues.
There are signs of hope all around us: aboriginal communities are engaged in a healing process
and in a return to tradition that will undoubtedly result in greater numbers of people, who can
successfully function in both societies; many youth want to contribute to their community and to
help other youth; clients and front line social workers are beginning to be heard. These
experiences tell me that a shift is taking place in our communities - that we are beginning to find
a path with a heart.
The creation of a new vision is not without its challenges. On the one hand, there is a strong and
continuing desire among many Aboriginal people and their allies to build upon traditional
Aboriginal strengths and values such as courage, respect for each other and for nature, the oral
tradition and the wisdom of the elders, a deep connection with each other and mother earth, a
consistent application of spirituality to all of life. Cultural camps and some models of practice
provide concrete examples of the power of these concepts to improve daily life.
On the other hand, the loss of culture and tradition that has resulted from colonisation continues
to affect the lives of Aboriginal people, and “Western” people are often unaware of the
oppressive impact of their assumptions, beliefs and attitudes toward Aboriginal people. While
policy has changed to counter these experiences, historian Lise Noel (2000) reminds us that
systemic colonization is grounded in intolerance. This intolerance comes from unconscious
assumptions that underlie “normal institutional rules and collective reactions.” In systemic
colonization, Noel suggests these rules and reactions are imbedded in the consciousness of all and
so engrained in our lives that the oppressed cannot point to any single form of oppression, -and
the oppressor becomes invisible. As a consequence, the responsibility for colonization and
assimilation is assigned to the oppressed – and, when that process does not meet institutional
rules and expectations, it is identified as further evidence of the inability of the oppressed to
determine their own directions. Nowhere is this process more evident than in health, education,
and services to children – and it still continues.
The community is clear about the essential values and philosophy that must guide the
development of programs and services. There is fundamental agreement on importance of shared
parenting and community responsibility for children, of language as a source of renewed culture,
knowledge of history and tradition as an essential element of identity, the importance of kinship
and connection to each other and a respectful approach to the planet.
The problem is that there is an enormous chasm between the vision of Aboriginal communities
and the realities of funding and policy restrictions. Little Bear (2000) speaks to the collision of
jagged worldviews and helps us to understand the hazards of understanding each other when our
western worldview is more linear than holistic, hierarchical and specialised rather than
generalised, more materialistic and self-interested than sharing, less concerned about relationships
and kindness than competitiveness, more aggressive than respectful, more focussed on external
sources of control and authority than on the development of internal controls. Our work thus far
has, however, carried us further along in our journey as we dialogue with communities, planners,
practitioners, leaders and elders in our search for understanding, but we have much to learn.
Community meetings have revealed that there is a clear understanding of the current and past
issues and their impact on community and family life, and that to address these issues will call
forth the strength of the people based on the continuity of their culture, kinship systems and tribal
responsibilities. It is essential to institute a structure that supports kinship relational roles and
responsibilities, as the continuity of kinship is the key to well-being and survival, and the basis of
their identity. The challenge is to continue the collaboration and take steps to implement their
recommendations. This must include working with Elders and in the construction of knowledge
systems, conceptual frameworks and pedagogy for social work practice and developing new
program models based on community guidance that will be in harmony with the culture and
traditions of the people. A true collaboration could include an evaluation of existing models that
offer promise for broader application and where needed establish demonstration projects to test
out and validate new thinking. There is an urgent need to develop First Nation social worker who
can assume leadership roles in community development and organizational change and for
training and education programs for human services workers working with First Nation
communities.
The Sturgeon Lake community hosted a gathering entitled Creating Hope for the Future, which
invited three generations served by white caregivers: residential schools during the 40s and 50s,
foster care in the 60s and 70s and more recent “graduates.” The community also used community
theatre to help address relevant issues. Through this process, youth scripted, produced, and acted
in a play that outlined some of their observations in their community. The community was then
invited to respond and revise the play to reflect their wishes for the future. The play proved to be
a very powerful tool which was positively received and helped to bring people together to discuss
what is happening in their own community and start building together their hopes and dreams for
the future. This type of community theatre or theatre of the oppressed approach has been
successfully used to engage community members (including youth), provide a voice, bring people
together, raise awareness, stimulate discussion, inform policy makers, empower communities,
cultivate leadership, promote social action and ultimately, support and nurture the development of
healthy communities (Boehm & Boehm, 2003; Houston, Magill, McCollum, & Spratt, 2001).
A common theme was narrative of their experience of marginalization and disrespect as a people
in residential schools and child welfare systems underscored by racist attitudes continue to shape
practice. A second major theme was a powerful and dignified call for acknowledgement as
aboriginal people and a redress by a claim for self-determination in the care and protection of the
Tribe’s children. This is at the core of the relationships between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal
people who are involved in child welfare programs.
It is clear that many aspects of today’s helping systems that serve aboriginal people as governed
federal and provincial authorities fail to meet these fundamental requirements. It is also clear that
aboriginal people know what they need to counter these influences. What is less clear is how to
develop of models of practice and teaching that can fulfill Aboriginal aspirations.
Experience of Aboriginal People

Few would deny that the past 500 years have left many aboriginal people in the state of
confusion, despair, loneness, isolation and with increasing dependence on various substances to
alleviate the painful and traumatic legacy of these years. It has been said that;” In the beginning,
the black coats came to save our souls; then the Red Coats came to establish law and order
according to a foreign government, now the white coats provide medications to dull our pain and
the still the suffering of our spirit.”
Many expressed a profound sense of loss and disconnection from their people and culture because
of their separation from family and community, all the while not really belonging to the societal
institutions charged with their formative years. There is a pervasive sense of not truly belonging
anywhere creating a state of perpetual anomie that can only be countered by a profound
reconnection with who they are as aboriginal people. This is confirmed by the elders who have
been observing this for many generations and who call for a return to traditional values.
Broken relationships with families and communities of origin are a recurring theme described by
community participants who have been removed from their families to be raised in white
institutions and foster care settings. From a cultural perspective, this experience is tantamount to
familial suicide in a tradition that not only relies on “all our relations” and the ancestors for
guidance and support in this lifetime and family to make ones way through life. It was made
clear that the alternative care systems developed by government failed the children and betrayed
the communities, leaving the people at sea in their personal relationships, and struggling to find
ways of sustaining themselves emotionally.
Many spoke of their ongoing struggle to establish marital and other forms of intimate connection
to others. The legacy created by separation, abuse, mistreatment and rejection left many people
emotionally maimed and fearful of sustainable and healthy relationships.
It is clear that many aboriginal children had their way of life, their spirituality, traditions, and
their perception of parents and grandparents denigrated in residential schools and in white foster
care, leaving them with a diminished ability to contemplate a hopeful future. Many feel that they
have become westernized, or in the words of some “I may look Indian, but I am really White.”
Leroy Littlebear (2001) refers to this as a form of “jagged colonialism” that leaves people without
a way of considering their future and solving problems and upon which they can draw to live
their lives. Every new situation calls for the development of an entirely new approach to problem
solving and decision-making. This leaves many are paralyzed by the possibility making such
decisions and trapped in lives that are without meaning.
There are many signs of hopefulness as well as people return to learn their traditional aboriginal
language and reconnect with elders to capture the stories and their traditions that can guide their
lives and reestablish culturally appropriate ways of behaving to fill the gaps that have been
created. Spirituality was a major source of hope and was expressed in every community
gathering. The losses experienced have been traumatic and have been transmitted from one
generation to the other. But many have sought meaning and consolation in Christian or
Traditional form of spirituality. Community members described their traditional beliefs as
pervading all aspects of life including oneself, relationships with family, other people, plants,
animals, and ultimately the entire cosmos. Many are seeking to return to such traditional beliefs
and have left the Christianity that was imposed on their parents, but others cling to Christian
beliefs while others are confused and ambivalent about both. This can create community
conflicts as the struggle for survival extends to the spiritual level, with some fearing immortal
damnation for themselves and their loved ones.
For those communities that attempting to develop new programs and services based on their
traditional values and beliefs the challenge is immense. While there is a desire for models of
practice that meet community aspirations within an Aboriginal worldview, Federal and Provincial
government constraints limit this possibility. The Federal government provides minimal funding
for programs that support and sustain family life and fully fund programs that promote the
breakdown of families and outplacement of children. Provincial authorities who still fail to
understand and fully support First Nations aspirations for autonomy and self-determination in
looking after their children and themselves without elaborate provincial standards and structures
that have little to do with aboriginal values. This reality can be exacerbated by the jagged
colonialism referred to earlier, leaving staff, and politicians at sea, as they try to reconcile their
own limited understanding of Aboriginal traditions and try to absorb the lessons of the Elders
who are aging.
People spoke at great length about the need for an importance of healing from the legacy of
oppression and grief to which they have been subjected. The Aboriginal Healing Foundation has
made a good beginning, but it has been limited by fiscal resources and the time allowed to heal
from hundreds of years of oppression. It is well known that a people cannot recover from such
trauma in a period of several years. We still have much to learn about the healing experience
required by aboriginal people; yet this is a fundamental requirement without which many
aboriginal people will able to go no further and which the intergenerational transmission of
trauma will continue unabated. There is fundamental need to recommit to this healing
experience, and the most casual reader will observe that many of the recommendations contained
in this report have more to do with recovery from this trauma that with models of child welfare.
The healing is a fundamental sine qua non without which the people cannot advance. The
Aboriginal Healing Foundation has made a beginning step in this direction, one that could benefit
from appropriate partnerships with university researchers and mainstream service providers who
are sensitive to the Aboriginal reality of today.
It is also clear that Aboriginal agencies have to operate with even more inadequate financial
resources than non-Aboriginal agencies. The current funding formula not only restricts such
agencies from offering preventive programs, it provides limited flexibility to offer innovative
programs that are consistent with traditional values and approaches. This could be a priority area
for collaboration, with academics and policy makers exercising a concerted effort to convince
federal funding sources of the potential efficacy of such approaches over the long term. It also
seems clear that many Aboriginal agencies are operating in a policy vacuum because they have
not had the time to develop policies, standards and protocols that are responsive to their unique
situations. It seems to me that a collaborative effort in concert with each other would have a
greater chance of success than isolated efforts to promote change. In this process, special
attention will have to be given to the provision of sufficient resources to Aboriginal agencies to
address the complex and serious problems that confront them on a daily basis.
I suggest that we could begin by acknowledging that there is no one best way to solve the
problems that face us, but rather many divergent ways that deserve the joint attention of
communities, service providers and academics. The difficulty involved with change cannot be
under-estimated, but each of us can point to examples that illustrate the possibility of achieving
partnerships. They call upon us to step out of expected and typical institutional relationships to
find a common ground of caring, respect, flexibility, and an orientation toward action from a
research and an educational perspective. The community, policy makers and the university can
work together to incorporate knowledge from “mainstream” theory, practice, and research
pertaining to children’s services with the traditional wisdom of First Nations communities. It is a
path of mutual respect, of dropping the barriers that keep us apart as we struggle with our own
perception of reality. It is a path that calls on each of us to reflect upon each other’s view of
reality, as we find ways to work together to solve problems that would be unmanageable on our
own.
APPENDIX “A”
Aboriginal Child Welfare – How we got here and where we might go
Issues What What were the What can we do Implications for

happened? impacts?’ about it now? Child Welfare
Lack of “Our parents "This practice of • Parenting is a • Long term
parental had to send us separating children community integration of
choice to the from parents and the commitment → role models and
residential parenting role model a child is not mentors would
school. We is singularly raised by one → be a positive
were treated responsible for many Stop thinking because it
very badly of the problems that there is a teaches
right from the related to child care quick fix to a everyday skills
beginning. now found among long term like connection,
We were not Aboriginal parents" situation. trust, human
given a choice McKenzie & • Then I would relationship,
to keep our Hudson, p.130). teach Parenting culture, etc.
kids. They Haig-Brown (1988) Program and • Remove stigma
had to be emphasized the lack every other self- from parenting
there.” of positive role help program. classes by
models because But not named making them
"Children learn “parenting’. It is available to all
parenting skills by too judgmental parents and
the way they are and makes a basing them on
parented" (and for parent look like Aboriginal
many Aboriginal they do not ways
children who spent know anything • To discuss the
ten years or more at about parenting. positive or
residential schools, It is very accepted
one must conclude demeaning. A practices within
that these children program by any Aboriginal
"had limited other name is families may
experience as family more inviting. It enlighten CW
members" (p. 111). has to be fun and and re-kindle
not so scary. My traditional
clients would values that
hate to go to existed before
parenting skills colonization
because it could • Learn and honor
make them feel the traditional
like they were parental role.
not a good We must seek
mother guidance from
• Redefine elders about
Aboriginal parental what the parental
skills. Both CW role used to be
and Aboriginal and talk to the
people need to community about
understand the healing and
differences/similar-

ity of parental reclaiming
skills parenthood
• Mainstream • Involve parents
values in decisions
concerning with children –
parenting within don’t be
Aboriginal secretive
family’s conflict behind their
with collective backs
community and • Let the
spiritual beings community be
of these people the one to
• Provide approach the
programs parents
conducted by
older Aboriginal
people that did
not have the
influences of the
schools
• Encourage other
positive role
models within
all communities
Isolation from Not only were Parenting skills • Provide • Allow the
family and Aboriginal diminished as opportunities for community to
community children succeeding people to heal, to gather and
educated generations became tell their stories, to exchange
separately more institutionalized learn to trust, to information,
from the and experienced little find out who they ideas and their
dominant nurturing. Low self- are as an individual struggles
society, they esteem and self- • Create around
were also concept problems opportunities to parenting. As a
educated away arose as children were build bridges community
from their own taught that their own between ourselves support one
culture. The culture was inferior and our culture and another with all
practice of and uncivilized, even other societies our family
separating ‘savage’” (Martens et • Our people are not systems.
children “from al, 1988). Taking devalued - they are • Reconnect
their parents small children from valued as people with
and their way their parent … caused individuals and as community -
of life had a “parents and children a people. There is a provide
drastic impact to become strangers to place for them mediation
on almost all each other.”(Unger, within this world where
Aboriginal 1977: p.16) and they can necessary
families. The contribute • Create
structure, opportunities to

cohesion and • Find traditions and learn that we
quality of customs and are not what the
family life activities that will oppressors
suffered. draw families and said/say we are
communities • Re-introduce
together. While people to their
this can be done in families.
a traditional Families need
context, allowing to be informed
families to partake and supported
in new traditions in the loss of
together, it would their children
also be beneficial have
as the time spent experienced
together is what • Invite children
counts. who are now
• Education is also parents to
an important factor become part of
– re-learning the the Elder’s
old parenting ways Circle to help
of the Aboriginal educate them
i.e. no corporal with parenting
punishment in skills.
disciplining their • Explain to
children. children/parents
that what they
experienced
and lost was not
their fault. Use
Elders as
mentors
Experience of When he was a Children who were • Being a survivor of • Teaching /
Abuse little boy in the physically and sexually physical and sexual educating those
convent he was abused while away abuse, all I wanted who were abused
raped every from home frequently was to be heard, themselves as
night. As a brought the effects of really heard and young children
result of that that abuse back to their validated. I that abuse is
how would you families. Some abused wanted someone to wrong and that
expect that man children have become listen to my story. there are other
to even be a abusers themselves, It is about sharing ways of handling
good father – directing their of stories that starts a particular
he’d have so behaviours at parents, the healing. My situation
much hate? siblings, partners and journey began by • Culture plays
even their own being heard (not an important
children. Family just a statistic) and component for
members may suffer feeling real and not Aboriginal
without even being a number. Picking people that

aware of the abuser's the strengths, teach the men
own previous abuse in qualities and and women role
residential institutions. positive aspects, I through culture
later looked at one or respect for
step at a time. self and others,
• People need to talk gaining back
about these self-esteem.
experiences No longer do I
without being feel like I am a
judgmental. victim, but a
Professionals who survivor
understand why through
sexual abuse has sharing,
occurred need to knowledge,
work with people respect, humor,
who have been tears and
sexually abused laughter,
and who have spirituality and
outlived this Creator.
behavior • Have the
• That individual victims of the
needs to feel a sense sexual abuse
of emotional talk about their
empowerment that experiences
he/she lost as a child with counselors
– need to come to or Elders.
that understanding • There needs to
of how this has be a ceremony
impacted his/her life for all who
• This needs to be have
done without experienced
creating unusual this
racism and that • Start healing
people’s fears have groups that
created oppression allow for group
within people when healing. Share
residential schools stories to
were created embrace that
• Counseling they were the
• Teach people to victims and
not act in this way they were
rather than spread wronged. It was
it not their fault.
• Allow people to
speak of their
experiences in a
kind /

supportive
environment.
Form a support
group so that
people can lean
they are not
alone.
Regimenta- Accounts of Most children learn • Take away the • Allow
tion of Life life in the parenting skills hierarchy that everyone, not
residential without a great deal of feeds the just Aboriginal
schools spoke conscious effort, oppression. children to have
to the total primarily by the way Change The Indian control to a
regimentation they were parented. Act to allow equal certain degree
that took However, institutional rights for all First on what he or
place, leaving and Aboriginal child- Nations – give us she sees as evil
children in a rearing practices had individual vs. good
quasi robotic little in common. As ownership of lands • Stop creating
state and Agnes Grant (1996) and homes policies that
reluctant to wrote, “Many parents • Give us more divide
make normal who had been raised individual rights – Aboriginal
decisions. in the institutions did don’t hand the people –
not have the parenting money down from encourage unity
So everything skills to raise their the top – raise our and fair
was controlled. families, nor did they Treaty payments treatment -
What you have the life skills to from $5.00 year to give us the
spoke, they live their own lives $5,000.00 per year freedom to live
controlled. successful” (p.78). to reflect the value wherever we
They The students in of an acre of land want and still
controlled our residential school, today – stop giving have our culture
religion. The whose parents unhealthy and language
nuns taught us sometimes could not leadership crumbs • Give us equal
what was good see them for months by which they rights and equal
and what was and even years at a govern their people opportunity to
evil. The stretch, had limited – allow us equal run our own
dances and experience to draw rights wherever we programs such
feasts were upon (Haig-Brown, live as Child
evil. We were 1998, p.103). • Ensure that we Welfare
worshipping a have equal rights • Let us develop
different God. and access to the our own
There’s only Human Rights policies that
one God but Commission reflect the
they invented among other views of the
another one, I programs that are majority rather
guess, for us. supposed to protect than a select
our rights few chiefs who
Make our language abuse their
and culture a part power

of every
curriculum
available to all
students
Intergener- We have Clinical and research • Anger, fear and • Allowing those
ational parents who experience among the cycle of abuse can who have
Trauma are bitter, and Lakota reveal that be broken experienced/sur
are passing Indian parents who • Abuse is not an vived the
their own were themselves accepted way to residential
bitterness on to raised in boarding relate to one schools to
their children. school settings feel another express their
This vicious inadequate and • Understanding pain but only
cycle has to overwhelmed in their what love is and when
stop. (AFN, parental role. Further, how to love the appropriate and
1989). This descendants of self first only in certain
generation of boarding school • Educate ourselves professional
young attendees also report a situations, i.e.
Aboriginal history of neglect and counseling,
people is the abuse in their own social work
first generation childhoods along with sessions, group
that did not feelings of inadequacy talks
attend as parents and • Take
residential confusion about how workshops on
schools; but to raise children in a self-esteem and
because their healthy way. This self-confidence
parents and historical trauma has • Write down
grandparents resulted in the everything you
attended, they impairment of can remember
are deeply culturally normative about
affected by the parenting styles and residential
wounds and high risk for schools and
bitter developing alcohol then let go by
memories of and drug abuse having a
early problems associated burning
childhood with ineffective and ceremony
experiences. injurious parenting
Three (Brave Heart, 1995).
generations of
breaking up
Aboriginal
families have
severely
undermined
the role of the
extended
family and
kinship

networks,
causing that
structure to
break down, or
in most cases,
to be destroyed
(Ing, 1991
Loss of Before By the 1960s, a • Educate families For the children:
affection residential generation of on how to • Providing some
schools, in Aboriginal parents reconnect with one way for the
Aboriginal who were not given another and how to children to
families, a the choice of raising love one another connect with a
general loving their children began to again mentor or
attitude toward show signs of • Learn to significant
all children "abrogating their communicate your person(s) that
prevailed, not responsibility as feelings to your can show them
just for one’s parents." , , , a pattern loved ones love and
own children, of expectation had • Knowledge of acceptance
but love for all developed among history is one of consistently
the children of "some Indian parents the keys to begin to throughout their
the tribe. An that the residential get grounded with development to
orphan or an school system self. People that adulthood (
adopted child provided a…carefree have lost their someone who
was not in any way" of living without roots are lost. believes in
way mistreated children (Caldwell, “I History needs to be them)
or set apart by think after a while taught by their own For the parents:
the family, but families got used to people. The ‘lost’ • Providing
was gratefully not having their need to see that the opportunity for
taken in and children and they Aboriginal people them to address
cherished. didn't take full were once a proud their pain of not
Aboriginal responsibility . . . the nation and can being loved or
people have bonding wasn't really become a proud shown love and
been noted to there . . . and they nation again. listen to what
accord were used to not Provide HOPE and they need to
unquestioned having their children. HELP THEM TO heal from this.
acceptance of, But that's why they're BELIEVE IN Then to provide
and respect suffering because ONE-SELF. education about
for, all there's no bonding”. • Accept the thing child
individuals, we can’t change development
irrespective of “If you go and hug • Sharing of and how it
age or sex, not someone, you can just experiences of applies to their
only for their feel the tenseness, we what needs to be paradigm and
abilities but hardly ever had that, changed how they can
also with and that began from • Safe affection, begin to express
considerable the residential school, open discussion on love to one
tolerance as I think, because we feelings, emotions, another. To
well for their never loved on inadequacies provide support

weaknesses. another that way.” • Realize the to the families
(Bull, 1991). “They (our children) positive on their journey
don't realize how hard to learning to
“We were we had it and they love one
taken away think we are just another by
from our neglecting them. We patiently
mothers, and just don't know how to allowing it to
the bonding show our affection to unfold
was taken them.” naturally.
away from our • Reconnecting
parents. We estranged
were taken families
away, that’s
why we don’t
hug.
The nuns were

so mean to
little kids,
when they
should have
just loved
them, but they
didn't. . . .
when my
mother died,
they didn't
comfort me”.
Education • I feel it is • Have more • Need more • More
important for agencies built for Aboriginal Aboriginal
people inner-city youth to facilitators working classes offered,
working in reconnect with in ‘education’, more
the human • Encourage family child welfare and Aboriginal
service enhancement court systems – language
agencies models and create people need to be courses offered
with child protection taught to listen to at younger ages
Aboriginal within the home, be honest for what • Have potlucks
people to not outside the they are even if encouraged at
have home they’ve just schools→
knowledge • Bring culture and crawled out of a parent/teacher
about the traditions back to ditch interviews
Treaties, The all people • I taught Traditional • Liaison in
Indian Act, • Acknowledge that Parenting Skills to school work
colonization, it took many years Aboriginal adult with school
oppression to do the damage students which counselors →
and to be and that it will take they found very have cultural
supportive of many more to interesting. Not days at school

traditional ‘undo’ this damage only did they • More sharing of
healing and that each small become stories, have
methods steps is a positive knowledgeable but sharing circles,
• We are not progression took home many sweats, more
owners of • Use empowerment skills to work with cultural camps,
our children; theory and get their children. I etc.
we are the more people on the believe that we • More support
teachers, role bandwagon to require more workers that go
models for successful educated to people’s
our entire life independence Aboriginal homes for a
- not only Facilitators or couple of hours
until our Liaison Workers to help parents
children • Teach and pass on send their
leave home. the stories to children to
We need to workers in the school, etc.
have more child welfare • Rename Child
Aboriginal system, education Welfare as
people in top and court systems. ‘Family Social
level It should be made Services’
management. mandatory for all because healing
public service has to be not
• We can re- workers. only an
introduce • Aboriginal peopled individual level,
Aboriginal need to be in but also on the
traditions control of their family level
into all own healing • Bring the
Canadian • Cannot be a time resources to the
schools. We limit, or dollar people a much
can offer amount place upon as possible. We
sufficient it live in the
mental health • Outsiders – support wealthiest
workers to and encourage province in the
work with country, yet
these these still exists
children lack of
(MHW – resources
Aboriginal
preferred.
Listen to
their stories
so that feel
validated
• Aboriginal
communities
need to start
opening up
more

amongst
themselves,
i.e. elder and
youth
gatherings
• Activities
that bring the
community
together
Encourage the
resurgence of
‘old’
traditions
and native
language
REFERENCES 213
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Ed.). Ottawa: Aboriginal Healing Foundation.
Assembly of First Nations (1989). Report of the National Inquiry into First Nations Child Care:
Ottawa.
Atteneave, C. (1977). The Wasted Strengths of Indian Families in The Destruction of American
Indian Families. In Unger, S. (Ed.) New York: Association on American Indian Affairs.
Bennett, M., & Blackstock, C. (2002). A literature review and annotated bibliography focusing on
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cepb.ca/DocsEng/RevisedLitReview.pdf
Berry, S., & Brink, J. (2004). Aboriginal cultures in Alberta: Five hundred generations.
Edmonton, Alberta: The Provincial Museum of Alberta.
Brave Heart-Jordan, M. (1995) The Return to the Sacred Path: Healing from Historical Trauma
and Historical Unresolved Grief Among the Lakota. Unpublished doctoral dissertation,
Smith College School of Social Work.
Blanchard E. & Barsh, R. (1980). What is Best for Tribal Children? A Response to Fischler.
Social Work. 25.
Boldt, M. (1993). Surviving as Indians: The challenge of self-government. Toronto, ON:

University of Toronto Press.
Bull, L. (1991). Indian Residential Schooling: The Aboriginal Perspective. Canadian Journal of
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Caldwell, G. (1979). A Research Study of the Child Care Program at Nine Residential Schools in
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Cajete, T. P. J. (2000). Native science: Natural laws of interdependence. Santa Fe, NM: Clear
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Cross, T. (1986). Drawing on Cultural Tradition in Indian Child Welfare Practice. Social
Casework. 67. P.284.
Crown documents C1.3376A; C1.1618; C1.3159A and C1.2029. 1 GOV DOC CA1, YC3-14 20th.
Parl. Sess. 1947, No 1-20, pp. 571 ff.
Fischler, R. (1985). Child Abuse and Neglect in American Indian Communities. Child Abuse and
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Horejsi, C., Heavy Runner, B. & Pablo, J. (1992). Reactions by Aboriginal American Parents to
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Unpublished Master of Education Thesis, University of British Columbia.
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Lewis, C. (1970). Indian Families of the North West Coast: The Impact of Change. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press.
Lucas, P. (1989). Healing Residential Wounds,” Kahtou 7 (15).9.
MacDonald (1985) The Child Welfare Programme of the Spallumcheen Indian Band in
British Columbia. The Challenge of Child Welfare, ed. K. L. Levitt and B. Wharf.
Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press
McKenzie. B. & Hudson, P. (1985). Aboriginal Children, Child Welfare, and the Colonization of
Aboriginal Children in The Challenge of Child Welfare. Ed. K.L. Levitt & B. Wharf.
Vancouver: University of Calgary Press.
Metcalf, A. (1975). From Schoolgirl to Mother: The Effects of Education on Navajo Women,
Social Problems. 23
Milloy, J. (1999). A National Crime: The Canadian Government and the Residential School
System-1879 to 1986. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press.
Martens, T, Daily, B. & Hodgson, M. (1988). The Spirit Weeps. Edmonton: Nechi Press.
RCAP. Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples. (1994). Available from http://www.ainc-

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Richard, K. (2004). A commentary against Aboriginal to non-Aboriginal adoption. First Peoples
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REFERENCES 215
Statistics Canada. (2004b). Aboriginal peoples of Canada. Retrieved October 23, 2005, from
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Stout, M. D., & Kipling, G. (2003). Aboriginal people, resilience and the residential school
legacy. Retrieved July 19, 2005, from http://www.ahf.ca/newsite/english/pdf/resilience.pdf
Trocme, N., Knoke,
D., & Blackstock, C. (2004). Pathways to overrepresentation of Aboriginal children in the child
welfare system in Canada. Retrieved July 19, 2005, from http://www.cecw-
cepb.ca/DocsEng/PathwaysAug2004TrocmeBlackstock.pdf
Unger, S. (1977). The Destruction of American Indian Families. New York: Association on
American Indian Affairs.
Wesley-Esquimaux, C. C., & Smolewski, M. (2004). Historic trauma and Aboriginal healing.
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York, G. (1990). The dispossessed: Life and death in Native Canada. London: Vintage U.K.
Assembly of First Nations (1989). Report of the National Inquiry into First Nations Child Care:
Ottawa.
Atteneave, C. (1977). The Wasted Strengths of Indian Families in The Destruction of American
Indian Families. In Unger, S. (Ed.) New York: Association on American Indian Affairs.
Blanchard E. & Barsh, R. (1980). What is Best for Tribal Children? A Response to Fischler.
Social Work. 25.
Brave Heart, M. (1999). Oyate Ptayela: Rebuilding the Lakota Nation Through Addressing
Historical Trauma Among Lakota Parents. Journal of Human Behavior in the Social
Environment 2 (1/2).
Brave Heart-Jordan, M. (1995) The Return to the Sacred Path: Healing from Historical Trauma
and Historical Unresolved Grief Among the Lakota. Unpublished doctoral dissertation,
Smith College School of Social Work.
Bull, L. (1991). Indian Residential Schooling: The Aboriginal Perspective. Canadian Journal of
Aboriginal Education 18.
Caldwell, G. (1979). A Research Study of the Child Care Program at Nine Residential Schools in
Saskatchewan (Ottawa: Report prepared for the Department of Indian Affairs
by the Canadian Welfare Council of Canada.
Canada West Foundation (2001). State of the West: Western Canadian Demographic and
Economic Trends. Calgary
Castenada, C. (1974). The Teachings of Don Juan. New York: Quality Paperback Club.
Cross, T. (1986). Drawing on Cultural Tradition in Indian Child Welfare Practice. Social
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Fischler, R. (1985). Child Abuse and Neglect in American Indian Communities. Child Abuse and
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Haig-Brown, C. (1998). Warrior Mothers. Journal of Just and Caring Education 4 (1)
Haig-Brown, C. (1988). Resistance and Renewal. Vancouver: Tillacum Library.
Hull, G. (1982). Child Welfare Services to Aboriginal Americans. Social Casework 63.
Hull, G. (1982). Child Welfare Services to Aboriginal Americans. Social Casework 63.
Ing, R. (1990). The Effects of Residential Schools on Aboriginal Child-Rearing Patterns.

Unpublished Master of Education Thesis, University of British Columbia.
Johnson, P. (1983). Native Children and the Child Welfare System. Toronto: Canadian Council
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Lucas, P. (1989). Healing Residential Wounds,” Kahtou 7 (15)
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Martens, T, Daily, B. & Hodgson, M. (1988). The Spirit Weeps. Edmonton: Nechi Press.
McKenzie. B. & Hudson, P. (1985). Aboriginal Children, Child Welfare, and the Colonization of
Aboriginal Children in The Challenge of Child Welfare. Ed. K.L. Levitt & B. Wharf.
Vancouver: University of Calgary Press.
REFERENCES 217
Metcalf, A. (1975). From Schoolgirl to Mother: The Effects of Education on Navajo Women,
Social Problems. 23
Milloy, J. (1999). A National Crime: The Canadian Government and the Residential School
System-1879 to 1986. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press.
Morgan, G. (1986). Images of the Organisation. Newbury Park: Sage Publications.
Rappaport, Julian (1981). In Praise of Paradox: A Social Policy of Empowerment Over

Prevention. American Journal of Community Psychology. 9(1).
Saul, J.R. (1995) Voltaire’s Bastards: The dictatorship of reason in the west. Toronto: Viking.
Taylor, F.W. (1922). Principles of Scientific Management. New York: Harper and Row.
Tobias, J. (1983) Protection, Civilization, Assimilation: An Outline History of Canada’s Indian

Policy in As Long as the Sun Shines and the Water Flows: A Reader in Canadian
Aboriginal Studies, I. A. L. Getty & A. S. Lussier (Eds.). Vancouver: University of
Vancouver Press.
Unger, S. (1977). The Destruction of American Indian Families. New York: Association on
American Indian Affairs.
Weber, M. (1947). The Theory of Social and Economic Organisation. London: Oxford University
Press.
FOOTNOTES 219
FOOTNOTES
i
Welfare in Alberta: The Report of a Study undertaken by the Imperial Order, Daughter of the Empire, Alberta
Provincial Chapter, 1947.
ii
Royal Commission, p.64.
iii
Royal Commission Report, p. 18.
iv
Royal Commission Report, Section 21, p. 71.
v
Standards for Children’s Organizations Providing Foster Family Care. (1941) Child Welfare League of
America.
vi
Copy of Evidence Given By Miss Phyllis Burns before the Royal Commission. (Undated document).
vii
viii
Department of Citizenship and Immigration, correspondence from the Supervisor of Social Workers to W.,
dated February 25, 19959; Indian commissioner for B.C. 208/29-16 (SW) (Ref. 901/29-16, 1957-1972, Vol. 1
H) about Indian residential schools; and the Reference Manual for Social Welfare, RG 10, Vol. 8463, NAC, File
1/23-21, pt. 1, Reel C-13809, July 1953. These materials confirm a presence of social workers in Indian Affairs
in the 1950s.
ix
See above, 901/29-16, 1957-1972, vol. 1 H, page 1.
x
Lafrance, J. (2004). The Sturgeon Lake Community Experience: A Journey toward Empowerment. Pimatziwin:
A Journal of Aboriginal and Indigenous Community Health.
xi
Caldwell, 1979, p.21
xii
C3.3569.
xiii
Ibid. 36.
xiv
Standards of Foster Care for Children in Institutions (1936) Child Welfare League of America, Inc. Russell
Sage Foundation Building. 130 East Twenty-Second Street, New York.
xv
The reader is reminded that, in addition to the evidence that emerged through provincial and federal reviews in
the 1940s, the use of industrial schools in particular, and institutions generally, had been challenged in the early
1900s, and industrial schools for boys in Ontario had closed in the 1930s, amidst concerns about their detrimental
impacts.
xvi
C1.2039. The distinction between education and welfare considerations is clearly drawn in this undated
document that examines, among other things the criteria for education and child welfare admissions, and the ratio
of both in the schools.
xvii
C1.3159A.
xviii
C1.3159A. Note that the criticism levelled against the actions of the Catholic priests in this instance can also
be construed as a criticism of the education provided by the federal government prior to full implementation of
its integration policy.
xix
C1.3159A.
xx
C1.3159A.
xxi
C1.972.
xxii
C1.1299.
xxiii
Standards of Foster Care for Children in Institutions (1936).Child Welfare League of America Inc. Russell
Sage Foundation Building, 130 East Twenty Second Street, New York.
xxiv
Gil, David G (1974) Institutions for Children from Children and Decent People. Alvin Schorr (Ed.). Basic
Books Inc.
xxv
Ibid., 5f.
xxvi
Ibid., 6.
xxvii
Ibid., 12f.
xxviii
Ibid., 16
xxix
Ibid., 16.
xxx
Ibid., 13.
xxxi
Ibid., 13.
xxxii
Ibid., 15.
xxxiii
Ibid., 23ff.
xxxiv
Ibid., 44ff.
xxxv
Fishler, R. (1985) Child Abuse and Neglect in American Indian Communities. Child Abuse and Neglect9(1).
Blanchard & Barsh, 1980, p. 350.

xxxvi
(Lucas, 1989:p.9
xxxvii
Lewis (1970, p.16
xxxviii
Fishler,R. (1985) Child Abuse and Neglect in American Indian Communities. Child Abuse and Neglect9(1).
xxix
Cross, 1986, p 284. p. 111
xl
Haig-Brown, C. (1988) Resistance and Renewal. Vancouver. Tillacum Library.
xli
Atteneave , C. (1977) The Wasted Strengths of Indian Families in the Destruction of American Indian
Families. In Unger, S., (Ed ) New York: Association on American Indian Affairs. p30
xlii
Reference to Committee; also reference to Crown documents C1.3376A; C1.1618; C1.3159A and C1.2029.
xliii
GOV DOC CA1, YC3-14 20th. Parl. Sess. 1947, No 1-20, pp. 571 ff.
xliv
Ibid., 579.
xlv
C1.1856.
xlvi
C1.3186. Regarding the low levels of education, it was reported that “over half the staff had less than high
school graduation”, see C1.2085.
xlvii
C1.3186.
xlviii
C1.3186.
xlix
C1.1856.
l
Ibid., 579.
li
Ibid., 5f.
lii
Lafrance, J. ( 2004). The Sturgeon Lake Community Experience: A Journey toward Empowerment.
Pimatziwin: A Journal of Aboriginal and Indigenous Community Health.
liii
Ibid., 212.
liv
C1.641.
lv
Ibid
lvi
C1.5
lvii
C1.972
lviii
A contributor to this document, B. Reichwein stated that “I myself found employment in Alberta’s child
welfare work in 1959, first in an orphanage and later as a departmental social worker. There were many
aboriginal children in care in the early 1960s, but more Metis than Indian children.
lix
W.D. McFarland in a panel discussion on “Present trends in Institutional Care” at the Catholic Welfare
Association 1962 Annual Conference, 4.
lx
Welfare in Alberta: The Report of a Study undertaken by the Imperial Order, Daughter of the Empire, Alberta
Provincial Chapter, 1947. p.35
lxi
lxii
lxiii
Brave Heart-Jordan, M. (1995) The Return to the Sacred Path: Healing from Historical Trauma and
Historical Unresolved Grief Among the Lakota. Unpublished Doctoral Dissertation, Smith College School of
Social Work.
lxiv
Pimatziwin: A Journal of Aboriginal and Indigenous Community Health
lxv
Ibid.
lxvi
AFN, 1989, p. 59
lxvii
MacDonald (1985)
lxviii
Martens et al, (1988) The Spirit Weeps. Edmonton, Nechi Press.
lxix
AFN, 1989
lxx
Brave Heart-Jordan, M. (1995) The Return to the Sacred Path: Healing from Historical Trauma and Historical
Unresolved Grief Among the Lakota. Unpublished Doctoral Dissertation, Smith College School of Social Work.
lxxi
Bull, L. (1991) Indian Residential Schooling: The Aboriginal Perspective. Canadian Journal of Aboriginal
Education. 18.
lxii
C1.2039. The distinction between education and welfare considerations is clearly drawn in this undated
document that examines, among other things the criteria for education and child welfare admissions, and the ratio
of both in the schools
About the Author
Jean Lafrance has been involved in child welfare work for over 44 years, beginning as front
line social work in northern Alberta in 1964 and serving in various leadership roles in
northern, central and southern Alberta as well as in Edmonton and Calgary. He has also
worked in staff development, policy and program development and strategic planning as an
Assistant Deputy Minister, capping his 33 years in government as Alberta’s Provincial
Children’s Advocate. He earned an MSW at Carleton University in 1970 and a Ph.D in
Social Work from the University of Southern California in 1993. He joined the Faculty of
Social Work with the University of Calgary in 1997 where he is now an Associate Professor
with a keen interest in work with Aboriginal communities. Jean married Marie-Anna Vallée
in 1964 and lives in Edmonton where he is blessed with three daughters, Denise, Line, and
Kristine; three sons-in-law, Chris, Darren and Andrew; and seven grandchildren, David,
Candace, Jennifer, Brody, Cassius, Isabelle and Jordan.
In our journey with Aboriginal People, some of the early Europeans recognized the traditional
qualities of Aboriginal people. These are cited verbatim in the language of the day as a group
of church leaders debated the direction that should be taken in the education of Aboriginal
children. (RG 10, volume 6730, file 169-62, pt. 2)
• The quality of loyalty to family and friends which is capable of expansion into loyalty
to a wider circle.
• The deep love of children from which can be developed the strong desire to help the
children of the race to be well-born.
• The generosity and hospitality which are outstanding characteristics of the Indian races
which may be developed as some of the finer elements of social living.
• The traditional quality of courage and admiration of brave leadership and which can be
used to spur the young Indian on in the face of discouragement and the hard grind of
monotonous routine.
• The engrafted dignity and serenity of the leaders of the race and which should be
preserved as a help in restoring to the hectic world in which we live, the poise and calm
of which we have been robbed by our numerous mechanical inventions (p. 3).
Regrettably, such insights did little to challenge prevailing assumptions and beliefs that held
the Aboriginal people to be in need of civilizing and Christianizing. One cannot help
but wonder how differently the lives of Canadian people might have evolved if such
beliefs had prevailed in the education and care of Aboriginal children. My regret is that
much of this has been forgotten and my hope is that we will remember it in the future as
we continue to journey together - a journey of empowerment.
Jean Lafrance
ISBN 978-0-9783147-0-5

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THE STURGEON LAKE JOURNEY TOWARD EMPOWERMENT

THE PEOPLE OF STURGEON LAKE

Jean Lafrance Ph.D

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The People of Sturgeon Lake

HISTORICAL BACKGROUND ………………………………………………………… 5

PREVAILING STANDARDS AND RESIDENTIAL SCHOOLS ………………………. 17

SHARING CIRCLES …………………………………………………………………….. 77

LOVE SOUP ……………………………………………………………………………... 97

A NEW VISION TAKES SHAPE ……………………………………………………….. 99

FIRST NATIONS’ I.R.S. …………………………………………………………………. 107

FLO’S STORY ……………………………………………………………………………. 113

ANOTHER SHARING CIRCLE ………………………………………………………… 125

THE IMPACT OF RESIDENTIAL SCHOOLS ON FAMILIES ……………………...…. 133

THE RESIDENTIAL SCHOOL COURSE – A JOINT EFFORT ……………………….. 145

WHAT IS GOOD ABOUT STURGEON LAKE? ……………………………………….. 149

VISIONING THE FUTURE …………………………………………………………….. 161

YOUTH PERSPECTIVES ………………………………………………………………... 171

STORIES OF HOPE ……………………………………………………………………… 179

TOWARDS HEALING AND RECONCILIATION …………………………………….. 189

IMPLICATIONS FOR THE FUTURE …………………………………………………... 193

REFERENCES …………………………………………………………………………….. 213

FOOTNOTES ……………………………………………………………………………… 219

Director – Sturgeon Lake Journey toward Empowerment

“There’s a lot going on here”

The Sturgeon Lake Journey Team

Leroy Hamelin – Hilda Goodswimmer – Alvina Nabew – David Nabew

Low self-esteem; dysfunctional families and interpersonal relationships;

Intergenerational or multi-generational trauma happens when the effects

Afro-Caribbean psychiatrist Frantz Fanon (Cited in Henderson, 2000), has defined

PREVAILING STANDARDS AND RESIDENTIAL SCHOOLS

PLACING THEM INTO ALTERNATIVE CARE WERE BASED.

SCHOOLS CONFORMED OR DID NOT CONFORM TO THE STANDARD PRACTICES AND

PROCEDURES OF THE TIME

1.7.2 COMPLIANCE ISSUES

Discipline and Punishment

At the age of seven, they took us from our homes

We could not forget the past

THE STURGEON LAKE COMMUNITY AND THE CHILD WELFARE SYSTEM

Mac Papastesis and Cyprien Moses in front of the barn

Lawrence Badger - A star was born

It was worse than prison.

How long did you have to stand there?

1960 anniversary of priests

I don’t know. Somebody woke him up I guess.

Something like that.

Brothers Dugas, Mathis and Deshaies

Lena Standing Ribbon at a Community Dance

A NEW VISION TAKES SHAPE

FIRST NATIONS' I.R.S. – Ron Soto

ANOTHER SHARING CIRCLE

THE IMPACT OF THE RESIDENTIAL SCHOOL EXPERIENCE ON FAMILIES

THE RESIDENTIAL SCHOOL COURSE – A JOINT EFFORT

Our First Class

WHAT IS GOOD ABOUT STURGEON LAKE?

Destiny and Friend

VISIONING THE FUTURE

Cast – The Third Generation

• We could make a movie and sell it at our schools and stores.

• The people around us.

Every year do you think a lot of people would go?

A red-headed balding Irishman