Honoring the 215 children

I wrote this post a few weeks ago, before the passing of our sweet Belle, and just hadn't published it on my blog yet. Belle was so present and so loving every time that I had been sad or crying over the past 15+ months... she would just come and sit on my shoulder, sometimes nuzzle into my neck, and often drink up the tears that were running down my face. It was the sweetest act of love from a bird.

She was there, sitting on my shoulder, while I was crying over the discovery of the mass grave. She had been so quiet and so still that I hadn't even realized that she was there until afterwards. I only realized after she was gone how much loving Belle had affected other areas of my life and taught me so much about loving others. I think that Belle would still want me to honor the memory of those children by publishing this post. 💞

*****

The discovery in May of a mass, unmarked and forgotten grave at the former site of the Kamloops Residential School in BC that contained the remains of 215 Indigenous children shook the nation, and so it should have. 215 innocent children who were taken forcefully from their parents and who never returned home. 215 sets of parents who never knew what had happened to their children.

Since I heard the horrific news, I have been really struggling to process it. The residential school system was not a means to educate the Indigenous, it was a government- and church-sanctioned effort to essentially "beat the Indian out of the child". It was cultural genocide. We cannot even say that it is part of Canada's history because, here we are, 25 years after the closing of the last residential school in Saskatchewan, still dealing with the traumatic effect of those "schools".

As I have been reading articles on the discovery of the mass grave and on the residential school system, the reality that the last residential school closed in my generation finally hit me. I graduated from high school in 1994. The last residential school closed in 1996. That means that the oldest of those who had been in that particular school would now be about my age and that the youngest would now be in their late 20's or early 30's, probably about the age of my youngest brother who was born in 1991. I don't even know how to process that realization... the residential schools were and are a dark, troubling and disturbing part of my generation, not just those of my parents or grandparents or great grandparents.

A couple of years ago, through work, I took a series of online training courses on Indigenous Awareness and Indigenous Cultural Safety. Through those courses, I finally learned about the history of the Indigenous people in Canada, including the residential school system, and their current lived realities... important parts of the Canadian story that I had never been taught by our education system. The courses also opened my eyes to the stereotypes, biases and prejudices that I had applied to Indigenous people my entire life out of a complete lack of knowledge and understanding. If I'm honest, it was shocking and disturbing to complete those courses, but I needed to be shocked and disturbed so that the blinders could be taken off of my eyes and so that I could finally see clearly.

As a non-Indigenous person whose ancestors are from Europe, i.e., the ones who took the land from the Indigenous and tried to assimilate them, what do I do now? I have been considering a lot how I can now honor and remember the 215 children whose lives were stolen from them, as well as all those who survived the residential schools but are still dealing with the traumatic impact of their experiences, and be an active participant in the reconciliation that we have been called to walk through together as a nation.

In the fall of 2020, through the College in Ontario that I am attending online through Distance Education, I had the opportunity to participate virtually in Orange Shirt Day as well as a beading workshop. Over the past five months, I have had the opportunity to participate in a number of virtual group discussions with Indigenous authors and other people from the College, both staff and students. Through one of my courses, I was able to get to know and participate in a group project with a classmate who is First Nations. Some of the people I've met have become my friends and we've kept in touch. One of these individuals told me afterwards that she had cried and held her two children so tightly after she had heard the news about the discovery of the grave.

Reading about the discovery of the mass grave shook me to the very core of my being. I have probably felt a very minuscule amount of the pain that was felt by the Indigenous community and yet it has been overwhelming. I responded in ways that I could think of at the time, and yet it seemed so inadequate. I changed my profile photo to include the Every Child Matters logo. I wore an orange shirt on May 31 (and most of the week, actually). I started reading the copy of the book "In My Own Moccasins: A Memoir of Resilience" by Helen Knott that I received a few months ago.

On June 3, the College held a virtual sharing circle for staff and students to collectively grieve and to process their emotions. I participated in the sharing circle and, because it was a safe place to be real, felt compelled to share my thoughts with the group. I surprised myself with the tears that I cried and the emotions, thoughts and feelings that I finally let out. I am now slowly learning how to process what I am feeling and to begin to express the depths of it.

One of the articles that I read recently talked about learning whose land you live on, so I looked it up. We live in Montreal (Tiohti:áke) on the traditional territory of the Kanien’kehá:ka (Mohawk) people. Montreal was also a diplomatic meeting place with other Iroquoians and Algonquians including Algonquin-Anishinaabe, Atikamekw, and Huron-Wendat. (Segal Centre for Performing Arts) But simply knowing on whose land I live is not enough... I know that I need to actually do something about it.

On the website of the Canadian Museum for Human Rights, I found this list of actions that non-Indigenous people can take to participate in reconciliation, either as individuals or as organizations. The list is under "Reflection and resources", following the listing of the Indigenous films. Other than doing what I have already done and writing this blog post, I have found two concrete and constructive actions that I can take in the near future as an individual. 

First, the Canadian Museum for Human Rights' website references the website of Circles for Reconciliation, which is an organization that has a mission to "establish trusting, meaningful relationships between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples as part of the 94 Calls to Action from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission". The organization aims to fulfill its mission by facilitating discussion circles, which are small gatherings of an equal number of Indigenous and non-Indigenous people, that are free of charge and open to anyone who is interested in participating. I've signed up to participate in the next virtual or in-person discussion circle that is available.

Second, on the land acknowledgement page of the Segal Centre's website, I saw a link for Native Montreal, which is an organization with the mission "to contribute to the holistic health, cultural strength and success of Indigenous families, individuals, and community living in the greater Montreal area". There are opportunities for non-Indigenous people to volunteer with the organization, so I signed up for the next information session. I don't know how or when it will take place because of the pandemic, but hopefully it will be soon.

I am studying to work in Human Resources (HR) and, even before the shocking discovery of the mass grave, I had become deeply interested in the human rights aspects of HR, including equity, diversity and inclusion, and in increasing the representation of minority groups, including Indigenous people, in the workplace. I don't know what that will look like in the years to come, but I do know that it is time for me to actively participate in reconciliation.

When words are not enough

My heart grieves and aches for our black and our Indigenous communities and families. I am horrified and angry. I am heartbroken. I am speechless yet have so much that my head and heart are trying to find the words to say.

George Floyd, a 46-year old black man who was asphyxiated to death by a police officer who was kneeling on his neck and ignoring his pleas that he couldn't breathe (Minneapolis, Minnesota, May 25). Chantel Moore, a 26-year old Indigenous woman who was shot and killed at her home by a police officer responding to a request to perform a wellness check (Edmundston, New Brunswick, June 4). Rayshard Brooks, a 27-year old black man who was shot and killed by a police officer responding to a report of a man sleeping in his car in the drive-thru lane of a Wendy's restaurant (Atlanta, Georgia, June 12).

I was in shock when I learned of their senseless deaths, and I still am. Within 18 days of each other, three more families were left without a husband/wife, father/mother, brother/sister, son/daughter, nephew/niece... and a lot of questions, searing pain, demands for justice, and an ever-increasing need for systemic change.

I was in increasing degrees of shock in the days following George Floyd's death as I read account after account of the horrific treatment that black people are subjected to on a daily basis in the United States. I asked myself if this happens in Canada, and then read someone else’s story confirming that it does.

I was also in increasing degrees of shock many times over the past year as I took numerous online courses and learned about the horrific and ongoing effects of colonization and racial discrimination on the Indigenous communities in Canada.

It is probably incredibly naive and a blatant example of textbook white privilege for me to admit that I didn't really know much about the past and current realities of either community, but it is also honest. It is heart wrenching to learn about these lived realities and inequities. As a white woman with a white family married to a white man with a white family, I don't live those realities and I know that I will never truly understand what it is like to walk in their shoes. What being open to learning has done is to open up my eyes to both my naivety and the truth, as well as my responsibilities as a white person in the face of racism.

Systemic racial discrimination is a perverse poison that sadly runs through the veins of our societies, poisoning the minds of some and subjecting others to certain injustice and even death. It happens in the US and in Canada and has for centuries, often as government-sanctioned policies.

As I have been struggling to deal with and process what is happening right now, I have been thinking back on and have gone back to my notes from one particularly powerful online course that I took in recent months on cultural safety. The course examined the Pathway to Harm model, from worldviews to stereotyping to prejudice to discrimination; explicit and implicit racial bias; human rights and the various levels of discrimination (overt or hidden, intentional or unintentional, clear or ambiguous, individual or systemic); the core elements and expressions of racism; and the positive actions that we can all take on a daily basis within our spheres of influence to fight against racism.

I don't want to give definitions and examples for all of those terms in this post (that would end up being a course in itself), but I would highly recommend taking a course on recognizing and addressing racism if you haven't already done so. That said, I do want to give the definitions provided in the course materials for some key terms that are foundational:

Stereotyping happens when we view an individual based on generalizations we make about their group.

Prejudice is holding a judgmental attitude and negative feelings toward a person, based solely on membership in the group.

Discrimination is treating someone differently because of their membership in the group.

Explicit bias refers to conscious thoughts and beliefs about people or groups, whereas Implicit bias refers to the automatic and unconscious thoughts and feelings that occur outside of an individual's awareness.

The hardest parts of that course were the journal entries and the group discussions, because they went beyond simply learning about the racial discrimination experienced in the past and present by other people. Those aspects of the course required a critical personal reflection, a cold hard look in the mirror, on my own stereotypes, prejudices and biases, as well as on the acts of discrimination that I may have witnessed and/or participated in. The final part of the course was to develop my own personal action plan to understand, recognize, and address racism.

The historical and present-day content of that particular course focused on Indigenous people, but the concepts about recognizing and addressing racism can and should also be applied to black people.

"Understanding racism sheds new light on how we see the conditions of ________ people in Canada. Becoming culturally competent requires awareness of the role of race in shaping your perceptions and beliefs of others, and how you behave. It entails understanding how racism is present in everyday life, including government institutions."

It is also important to note that race does matter in our societies. We cannot simply ignore race, or say that race is inconsequential or that racial differences are only superficial. That is simply racial or color blindness, but not does mean that we do not have any stereotypes, prejudices or biases. "Ignoring race can hamper your ability to recognize racially-based power inequities and privileges in our society. Enhancing your ability to create culturally safe relationships with ________ people requires knowledge about the impact of race, and a critical assessment of your ideas about race and racism."

"As a social phenomenon, racism may feel out of your control. However, behavior is within your control and a place where you can begin to take action."

"Addressing racial discrimination requires changing norms that tolerate and accept harmful behavior towards ________ people. ... [I]ndividuals can influence norms by challenging unacceptable behavior and practices."

"Active intervention requires 'seeing' racism and bias in action and having the intention to respond. When and how you take action depends on the situation. However, it is essential to interrupt the negative treatment of ________ people, even when you are unsure about how to do it. Not speaking out or taking action makes you complicit in the behavior."

Taking action - that is something that we can all do, and what we as white people need to do, for both our black and our Indigenous communities. It will look different for everyone but will always require a commitment to equity and social justice, to addressing racial discrimination, to taking positive action, and to collaboration.

We need to ask ourselves hard questions about who we are, what our biases are, what parts of history we do not understand, and what gaps there are in our understanding of the present. We need to be aware of and to address the stereotypes, prejudices and biases of ourselves and others (because we can all have them), to analyze and understand the power dynamics in our circles (whether personal or organizational), and to speak out against the injustices and inequities that we see around us.

A very recent personal example related to a stereotype of black people mirrored in an almost shocking way my experience while taking the course on Indigenous cultural safety, as I began to see my own personal stereotypes, prejudices and biases towards Indigenous people that I had never before identified. It is hard to write this, but I have come to believe that personal honesty, transparency and openness is crucial when it comes to addressing racism, because it all has to start within our own hearts.

Let me preface this by saying that I know a lot of black people and have quite a few friends who are black. What I realized once again, as I did with Indigenous people, is that my stereotypes, prejudices and biases come into play when I don't know someone personally, but it shouldn't matter whether or not I know someone personally. That is simply justifying the stereotype and the prejudice and saying that they apply until proven otherwise, and that leads to racial discrimination.

One morning two weeks ago, I was on my way to meet Hal for an appointment. Since I had misplaced my driver's license the week before and don't currently have a bus pass due to the pandemic, I decided to walk. The route I found myself walking goes through a predominantly black neighborhood that is widely known to be a bit rough at times. As I was walking along, I saw a small group of black people up ahead on the sidewalk. My first reaction was to look across the street and at the traffic going both ways to see if I could cross the street... not because of the pandemic and the recommendation to maintain 2 meters of distance from other people, but because they were black.

I immediately caught myself, in shock that the thought had gone through my head, and wondered how many other times I had let that same thought go unchecked. I looked again at the group of black people. It was a small group of young adults in their 20s who were standing on the corner and talking. Would the same thought have gone through my head if it was a small group of white young people? No, probably not.

Even just now when I re-read the first paragraph of the story, I examined my description of the neighborhood as "being known to be rough". I decided to leave it there to make a point. Is it known to be rough because it's a poorer area of the city or because it's predominantly black? It is true that it is a poorer area of the city where a lot of black people live, but it is also true that it is a poorer part of the city where a lot of white people live. So, what actually makes it a rough area of town?

Stereotype → Prejudice → Discrimination.

I didn't cross over to the other side of the street. I kept walking and I smiled at the group of young people. They moved over to give me 2 meters of space on the sidewalk. After I passed by them though, I had to ask myself: did they give me 2 meters of space because of the pandemic recommendations or because I was an unknown white woman walking through their neighborhood and they were fearful of me?

It was a humbling and sad experience for me to see what I saw in my own heart that day. The past has been horrific for black people and for Indigenous people in North America. It’s time for action that changes the future.

I am white, so I will never really understand what it means to face racial discrimination and to not be able to do the things that a white person with white privilege can do without even a second thought as to the possible outcome. That said, the fact that I am white means that I have an important role to play in speaking out against racism towards black people and Indigenous people, as well as other people of color. It is my responsibility to examine and check myself when it comes to my perceptions and attitudes about people from other races. It is also my responsibility to ask questions, to listen, to learn, and to do my part in speaking out against racism.

Systemic racism will not disappear overnight, but every action has an effect. Earlier this year, I developed my personal action plan for helping to create equity and justice for Indigenous people in my circle and community. I now need to develop an action plan to do the same for black people in my sphere of influence and community.

I read an article last week in the May/June issue of Chatelaine magazine on the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG) National Inquiry in Canada. The article was written and published before the tragic death of Chantel Moore and discusses the murder of a 15-year old Indigenous girl, Tina Fontaine, as well as the MMIWG inquiry and the lived experiences of the author of the article, also an Indigenous woman. There are many parts of that article that pierced my heart as I was reading it, but this one in particular stood out, because it speaks of the action that is necessary once we have heard the truth about the racism that is taking place all around us:

"I don't want to pretend that words are enough when we need actions, now. I don't want you, dear reader, to read this, think it's sad, then move on with your life as though it's out of your hands. It isn't."