As an adult educator and someone who works within the intercultural development and IDEA spaces, I am constantly thinking about Truth and Reconciliation.  In this piece, I share my journey over the course of my life with how I came to know the truth, and how I responded to that truth. My journey will be relatable for some, but I also recognize that for many people, the truth was only revealed in recent years when the remains of 215 children were found in Kamloops at a former residential school. While the last several years have been about actionable ways to accelerate truth and reconciliation within post secondary education, the truth about Indigenous history has been on my mind since my youth.

I am a non-Indigenous person who grew up in Brantford, Ontario which is adjacent to the Six Nations of the Grand River Territory. I remember a lot of racism. Racism towards people from all backgrounds, but in particular, anti-Indigenous racism. I remember the comments that my Indigenous peers and friends were subjected to. Comments from teachers, other kids, parents. I even remember the comments from my own family members. It’s like everyone was under a spell. I didn’t understand it. I had a friend and she was Beaver clan (Onondaga). Her family welcomed me and fed me and smiled at me when I came over. Her family laughed a lot once they got to know me. They were always in the same room together and the air was light. They made a lot of jokes. They seemed like a real family to me. At my house, my family didn’t laugh very often and the air was heavy.

Each day on my walk to school, I would pass the Woodland Cultural Centre which at that time, I knew as a museum. It was not until my 20th year that I learned about what happened there. Woodland Cultural Centre is the former Mohawk Institute, an “Indian” residential school that operated from 1831 to June 27, 1970 in Brantford, Ontario. 139 years of abuse, death, and cultural genocide in an attempt to “take the Indian out of the child” as stated by John A. MacDonald. 139 years of terror for Indigenous parents and children.

The Mohawk Institute c. 1932

When I learned about what happened there, my first thought (after wanting to be sick) was “why am I just hearing of this now?” When we learned about the Indigenous peoples of Canada in our history classes in the 1980’s and 90’s, there was no mention of residential schools. There was no mention of genocide. I thought about my friend and her family. They never spoke of this. Was it true? Did they go there? Did people they loved die? How could they laugh so much if this was their history? Did they even know about it.

I pursued my education in the field of Child and Youth Work and landed a job at a school board. The school where I spent most of my time was around the corner from the former residential school. When I reflect on the college curriculum, I remember we had one module on “diversity.” There was no mention of Indigenous kids or historical trauma. Nonetheless, I ended up working with many Indigenous youth at this particular school. At the time, while I had empathy and awareness of the history of their ancestors and the fact that this may have impacted them, I did not fully understand the depth and breadth of this and my mind, like many other non-Indigenous people, centered on this idea that “it was in the past and it’s time to move on.” This belief system was not effective as it hindered my work with Indigenous kids and families. I also did not have a deep understanding of the cultural nuances and practices that exist among the many nations and clans of the Six Nations of the Grand River Territory and there was a tendency to lump all Indigenous people together into one culture. A few years into my Child and Youth Worker career, I started supervising college students on internship at my schools. While on lunch in the staff room on a sunny Monday, one of my students made a derogatory remark about an Indigenous student. This was a turning point for me. I knew that as an educator, I had a critical responsibility; and I also knew that responsibility began with educating myself.

I share my story and journey, not to centre myself, but because I imagine it is a common story among many non-Indigenous people; and I believe that if I can take steps towards truth and reconciliation, that anyone can….and should. I once heard a colleague at a training state, “It’s not my fault, but it is my problem.” The issues we face today because of colonization ARE my problems.  I am an individual within a system who can and should accelerate truth and reconciliation.

My self-education was a slow and steady process, that began with a tour and lecture at the Woodland Cultural Centre (former Mohawk Institute) – that place that I walked by each day, that turned out to be a lie, and where the awareness all began for me. The tour was painful. There were scratches under tables and in the brick of kids’ names and initials and the years they spent there. There was energy there of pain, despair, and great suffering. There were stories of abuse, torture, and neglect. I started organizing annual field trips there with my students in order to make sure they were aware of the truth of what happened. I began attending cultural events that were offered there including art installations, socials, and talks with survivors. I branched out to attending events on the Six Nations of the Grand River Territory. I joined a group called “Nations Uniting” in Ohsweken. This group gathered monthly with the goal of bringing Indigenous and non-Indigenous people together to work towards Truth & Reconciliation. I made Indigenous friends through spending time in the community. I was invited to attend more socials and even ceremonies. My appreciation and understanding of the various Indigenous cultures residing in the Six Nations deepened. I read about the history of the treaties and what happened during colonization. I kept informed about land claims in my local area. I educated myself about missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls, men and boys. I studied the history of residential schools across Canada and about the “sixties scoop” when the “schools” began to shut down. I learned about the disproportionality of incarcerated Indigenous men.

All of this inquiry was painful and I wanted to turn away from it at times. When I had children of my own, the empathy surrounding what it would be like to have them taken away was crushing. I allowed myself to feel that pain to honour and respect those mothers that withstood that reality. I can understand how and why most people turn away from this truth. It is difficult to acknowledge; easier to ignore or deny. If I acknowledge this as a non-Indigenous person, then I must acknowledge what my ancestors were a part of – either directly or indirectly. I went through a period of tremendous guilt and shame for being white. This is where the statement, “its not my fault, but it is my problem,” helped me to separate from the guilt and begin to take action. In my work as an intercultural educator, I notice that there is a tendency for people to get bogged down with guilt and shame. This can put people into a holding pattern – not wanting to do more harm and not sure what to do. But this prevents them from taking action, and moving towards healing. We must move through it, get to the other side, and have courage to start trying.

The learning continues today as things evolve and change; I have not stopped nor will I. All of the information that I gleaned was important, however, what was even more significant was the inner work. The truth was important so that I could unlearn what I was taught, unearth and shift my biases, and find the motivation and courage to take action. I started looking at myself and taking accountability for how I was continuing to do harm. I stopped inserting myself in places where I was to listen and not speak. I learned how to do a proper and authentic land acknowledgement. I kept showing up; I keep showing up.

I learned that my friend and her family were aware of what happened and were impacted by residential schools. Her grandmother was a survivor; her language was stolen. She didn’t talk about it. In conversations with my friend, I learned that the nuance of humour in their home, the lightness in the air, the joy – that part of it was a survival strategy; a beautiful response to a horrific past. I learned that their family had problems; addictions; relationship ruptures – the same problems that exist in all families. The thing is, while these are the same problems that most families face, in many Indigenous communities they are disproportionate directly because of the harms caused by colonialism and attempted genocide, and this is why Truth and Reconciliation is so imperative.

But I also learned so much more from my friend, her family, and the other Indigenous folks in my life. I learned that family and culture are so important and that knowledge is shared freely. I learned how to do bead work, how to make corn soup, the intricacies of the sweat lodge. I learned about the plant medicines, the four directions, and the importance of thanksgiving. I learned about the interconnectedness of all things – the minerals, the plants, the four-legged, and the two-legged worlds. I learned about the spirit of the water, the sky-woman, and the eagle story. I learned that through all of what the Indigenous people encountered here, and had to endure, they are still willing to share their wisdom, knowledge, and medicine. They still honour who they are as original people and share what creation has to offer. These teachings have shaped and enriched my life, and I am so grateful for them.

Truth and Reconciliation is a solution to a problem that we are ALL responsible for correcting – and we have a long way to go. We have a responsibility to really understand what truth and reconciliation means – and what it actually means to Indigenous people.  Here is how I plan to continue on my path and I hope that some of these resonate for you to either start or continue doing:

• Listen to and amplify Indigenous voices. Believe those voices.
• Read the TRC 94 calls to action again, again, and again HERE.
• Embed Indigenous knowledge and perspectives into any curriculum I am teaching.
• Check myself – constantly. Ask myself what the impact of my actions might be, even when I have the best intentions.
• Celebrate and engage with Indigenous art and creativity.
• Read Indigenous authors.
• Attend Indigenous events and celebrations
• Whenever I go to a new place in the world, learn the truth about the history of the Indigenous people there and the current state of affairs.
• Continue to hone my land acknowledgement so that I am addressing what I know, what I don’t know, and what I am currently doing to advance Truth and Reconciliation.
• Nurture my friendships, family and work relationships with the Indigenous people in my life.
• Speak up when I witness anti-Indigenous racism.
• Teach my children the truth.
• Learn more about the nations and cultures that I have not had exposure to and the uniqueness of their experience.
• Acknowledge and celebrate the National Day of Truth and Reconciliation on September 30th. For more information click HERE
• Take courses. Here is one that I highly recommend offered for free through the University of Alberta HERE
• Teach others through my work, through writing, through talking, through modelling.

Systems are made up of individuals. I am one of them; you are one of them. We can make a difference and we are all a work in progress. During our short time here on earth, we just need to turn towards it and we just need to start trying.