Photo: Galit Rodan
Photo: Galit Rodan
The residential school system established for Canada’s Indigenous population in the nineteenth century is one of the darkest, most troubling chapters in our nation’s history. While some people regard the schools established under that system as centres of education, they were, in reality, centres of cultural indoctrination. The most alarming aspect of the system was that its target and its victims were the most vulnerable of society: little children. Removed from their families and home communities, seven generations of Aboriginal children were denied their identity through a systematic and concerted effort to extinguish their culture, language, and spirit. The schools were part of a larger effort by Canadian authorities to force Indigenous peoples to assimilate by the outlawing of sacred ceremonies and important traditions. It is clear that residential schools were a key component of a Canadian government policy of cultural genocide.
That any Indigenous person survived the culturally crushing experience of the schools is a testament to their resilience, and to the determination of those members of their families and communities who struggled to maintain and pass on to them what remained of their diminishing languages and traditions. As each generation passed through the doorways of the schools, the ability to pass on those languages and traditions was systematically undermined. The schools and Canada’s overall treatment of its Indigenous peoples have seriously affected Indigenous pride and self-respect, and have caused individuals and communities to lose their capacity to cope with the daily tasks of living. The evidence of that is seen in the serious social conditions that Canada’s Indigenous people face.
Many children did not survive. Thousands of children died in the schools. Thousands more were injured and traumatized. All were deprived of a measure of dignity and pride. We, as a country, lost the opportunity to create the nation we could have been.
The legacy can be seen in the myths, misunderstandings, and lack of empathy many Canadians openly display about Indigenous people, their history, and their place in society. Canadians have been educated to believe in the inferiority of Indigenous peoples and in the superiority of European nations. This history and its aftermath, therefore, should not be seen as an Aboriginal problem; it’s a Canadian one.
Ultimately, the schools became the focus of numerous lawsuits. Thousands of Survivors sued for their losses and mistreatment. The legal actions were joined into a massive class action, resulting in the largest legal settlement in Canadian history. The Settlement Agreement called for the creation of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Despite many challenges, the Commission and the groups supporting us worked tirelessly to uncover and face the difficult truths of Canada’s residential school system and its tragic legacy still felt today by Survivors, those close to them, and in communities from coast to coast to coast.
Starting in 2008, we collected millions of documents, visited more than 300 communities, and heard testimony from thousands of witnesses. We heard of the effects of over 100 years of mistreatment of more than 150,000 First Nations, Inuit, and Métis children placed in these schools.
The Survivors showed great courage, conviction, and trust in sharing their stories, which, collected here, are now a part of a permanent historical record, never to be forgotten or ignored.
The next chapter in this story, which begins with this report, is reconciliation. Reconciliation will not be easy and it will take time, but to make it happen, we must believe it should happen. Without a deliberate and thoughtful will for reconciliation, and the sustained action that manifests that will in meaningful, measurable change, we will not achieve the task the Survivors have given all the people in Canada: to repair the damage done to the relationship that was promised as far back as the Royal Proclamation of 1763.
Reconciliation also is not an Aboriginal problem. It is about creating a relationship of mutual respect as was promised in the Royal Proclamation of 1763 and in the assurances given at, and reflected in, the many Treaties signed between the Crown and Canada’s Aboriginal people, most since Confederation. All people in Canada, including newcomers, have a role in this relationship-building process. While we may not all share a past connected to the residential schools, we share a future. We must all call for an ongoing process of reconciliation, regardless of political affiliation, cultural background, or personal history.
We must all accept the challenge of enacting effective solutions to the disproportionate cycles of violence, abuse, and poverty experienced by Aboriginal people. We must strive to become a society that champions human rights, truth, and tolerance by confronting, not avoiding, the history recounted in the following pages.
To achieve this, we must bear witness to the past and join in a vision for the future. Our Calls to Action, therefore, should not be viewed as a national penance, but as a second chance at establishing a relationship of equals. This final report marks not the close but the beginning of a journey towards a more just, fairer, and more courageous country. We all have the opportunity to show leadership, courage, and conviction in helping to heal the wounds of the past.
What we do now and in the years ahead matters not only for us today, but also for the generations to come and the spirit of those who are no longer with us. The words of truth and expressions of apology are vitally important, but there is still much work to do on the journey ahead.
During the course of our work as a Commission, we encountered thousands of Canadians who saw the wrongs of the past as an opportunity to do good for the future. Dozens of Honorary Witnesses joined us in listening to the stories of the Survivors and committed themselves to continue to bear witness into the future. The members of our Survivors Committee stood by our side as we went about this work, advising and supporting us as we listened. Cultural and health supports strove tirelessly to ensure we all worked in a safe and positive environment. We owe them a huge debt of gratitude.
My colleagues, Commissioner Chief Wilton Littlechild and Commissioner Dr. Marie Wilson, and I have have approached this work as a sacred trust. Our families have supported us in every step of this very difficult journey. Our children and grandchildren have been our driving force and our daily reminder of the importance of what we do. I dedicate my work on this Commission to my wife Animikiquay, my children Miskodagaginquay, Niigonwedom, Beendigaygeezhigoquay, Kizhay Wahdizi Quay, and Gazhegwenabeek, and my grandchildren Nimijiien Niibense, Misko Banaishe, and Miigizens.
Because of our families, we, as Commissioners, are committed to making this a better country. For the sake of yours, I hope you will join us.
