I am a proud Canadian. I am so happy to live in this country we call Canada, but I also can't deny its shadow sides.
When I was small, my best friend was a wonderful girl of Indigenous origin who had been taken from her parents at the age of three in what we now call the Sixties Scoop, which is something of a misnomer for events that took place from the 50s right through to the late 90s (and even the present day) in some cases.
My friend and I didn't know about cultural genocide as we played together, running loose all over our small town in Saskatchewan. I had no idea that my happy childhood was her main source of happiness at that time, a respite from life with a white foster family where different kinds of abuse deeply affected her and her sister.
For most of my life, Canada Day has meant celebrations of our country's goodness, beauty, and grandeur, some of which I was blessed to see on family summer vacations in the mountains or on the coasts of British Columbia. I was always proud of our country's peacekeeping track record, its welcome of immigrants and refugees, including those from the Underground Railroad for black settlers from the US, and other sources of struggle overseas, its resultant multiculturalism, and its efforts to stand up for justice in world conflicts.
Of course, as time has passed, social media has brought a wider awareness of the many places where Canada has fallen short of its professed high ideals, and as I have matured, it has become impossible to wear rose-coloured glasses when it comes to my country. Since reconnecting with my childhood friend a few years ago thanks to Facebook, when I put on my red and white Canada Day t-shirt (sporting our anthem's lyrics), I hesitate for a moment and think of all those people for whom the concept of Canada as our home and native land causes deep hurt.
This year, in the light of events since the end of May, I am thinking especially of people of colour who have experienced racism at the hands of white settlers and their descendants, people just like me who have forgotten that this land wasn't ours to begin with.
The good thing is that Canada is generally a wonderful place, full of many opportunities and freedoms for those who manage to come and live here. My family of origin, descended from Russian-German farmers, has lived in Treaty 6 territory for well over 100 years, and we have reaped many benefits over time.
The terrible thing is that most of the people we unwittingly displaced have not fared nearly so well.
So even as I celebrate Canadians' good fortune in living in this wonderful land called Canada, I am thinking of those who have experienced its darknesses in the forms of systemic racism that can lead to family breakdown, deprivation, poverty, addictions, and abuse. To that end, I'm reading From the Ashes: My Story of Being Metis, Homeless, and Finding My Way, the story of Jesse Thistle, a man who, with his two brothers, was also a victim of the Sixties Scoop.
From the Ashes is one of this year's Canada Reads book, and more than an eye-opener. Gritty and honest, told in heartbreaking poetry and prose, it has made me cry on more than one occasion. As I read, I can't help but put myself in the place of Jesse, asking myself how I would have reacted in the situations he found himself in, realizing the huge struggles that arose from systemic racism and the loss of his parental relationships. His story has made me more determined than ever to work for reconciliation and justice for Indigenous people and for all who are treated unfairly by the descendants of white settlers.
I can't recommend this book enough. If you have been wondering about your place in recent anti-racism events since the death of George Floyd in Minnesota, it's worth making an effort toward self-education and a deeper understanding of the Canadians who have been treated even worse over the centuries than our black community members, who are relative newcomers. It's worth rethinking our place in Canada, period, remembering that we are all equal in God's eyes, and thus, should be in Canadian society, too. There is so much healing required. And it starts with us refusing to allow systemic racism to continue unchallenged.
On this rather sodden, dark, and rainy Canada Day in Edmonton, I will finish Jesse Thistle's book, and encourage all my readers to read it, too. In addition, I pledge to continue volunteering in capacities that connect me to my Indigenous brothers and sisters and other people of colour, to look for more such opportunities for friendship and connection, and to find places and ways to stand against the racism that we white people have allowed to continue for too long.
It is only through rebuilding our country's self-understanding through relationships, reconciliation, and justice efforts that we can truly be proud Canadians -- together.
Simple Moodlings \'sim-pѳl 'mϋd-ѳl-ings\ n: 1. modest meanderings of the mind about living simply and with less ecological impact; 2. "long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling and puttering" (Brenda Ueland) of the written kind; 3. spiritual odds and ends inspired by life, scripture, and the thoughts of others
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2 comments:
beautiful post....
I didn't have a Noreen, (so fantastic you have been able to reconnect), but as a child of the '60s I'm sure there must have been some children in my life who were in those situations.
Jessie Thistles book changed my LIFE -- truly
I first heard him speak at LitFest, immediately read his book, and then saw the world thru different lenses.
I recommend it to everyone I talk books with, everyone I work with, everyone....---easily one of the most difficult, gut punching, sad, happy, sad again accounts I have ever read.
thanks again for this post, may turn some others onto this important book
so grateful that I am able to have my world shook, even at this old age sis!
supersu
Thanks, Su! I was sorry to miss the evening with Jesse Thistle... so glad you got to attend. Your comments about the book and Jesse inspired me to pick it up from the library just before the pandemic hit...
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