Being Presbyterian

“How are we going to preserve the stories residential school survivors are now telling us?”

Such an important question. It came up during a lively discussion in Halifax with members of the AMS and Presbytery of Halifax Lunenburg. It seems so critical we do this or else people will quickly lose sight of why there is a need to reconcile.

In that same discussion, others talked enthusiastically about how much they enjoyed reading the works of Joseph Boyden.  Boyden is a young, critically acclaimed Canadian author.

Several people in the group had read one or both of Boyden’s Three Day Road and Through Black Spruce.  Boyden won the prestigious Giller Prize, in 2008, for the latter work.

Three Day Road draws inspiration from the life of Francis Pegahmagabow, an Ojibwa from the Wasauksing First Nation (Parry Island), Ontario. Corporal Pegahmagabow was awarded the Military Medal plus two bars for bravery in Belgium and France during the First World War, becoming the most highly decorated Canadian Native soldier in that conflict.

Joseph Boyden spent time on the James Bay coast based in Moosonee.  So it is not surprising that he chose this area as a setting for Three Day Road whose protagonists are Cree.

Though they are works of fiction, Boyden’s novels resonate with much that is true about the experiences of Native people in Canada, both historically, and, in Through Black Spruce, more contemporary times.

The group felt they had learned a lot reading these works of fiction.  And it reminded me that good fiction can play a tremendously important role in helping pass along truth:  the truth about how groups of people feel, how they are treated, the challenges they face at varying times in history.

Good fiction, by engaging our imaginations, helping us see visually and feel emotionally, can bring memory to life, like no other form of communication.  And thus, as our group in Halifax observed, it can be a great learning tool:  helping us understand people who have lived through experiences which may be quite foreign to our own experiences.

How are we going to preserve the stories of residential schools and their impact on relations between people in Canada?  One of the answers certainly is through good fiction that does justice to historical truth.

Lori Ransom is the Healing & Reconciliation Animator at The Presbyterian Church in Canada.

Some months ago I made a presentation to a Men’s Breakfast group in Markham, Ontario.  Not for the first time, questions arose about the viability of the “Indian reserve” system—“reserves” being that land set aside in Canadian law—land still owned by the federal Crown—which is still home to well over 600 First Nation communities.  This time, the question was quite specific, “Do you think there will still be reserves in Canada in 2030”?

Phew—that’s pretty easy to answer.  Yes.  Reserves will still exist in 2030.  It’s only 22 years into the future, was my first point.  And, it must be remembered that many First Nation communities are thriving, vibrant places—places we’d all be pleased to live in, work, and raise families.

What worries Canadians—both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people—are those reserves where economic self-sufficiency seems an impossible dream:  where deep-seated poverty and heart-breaking social problems exist, due primarily to geographic remoteness (lack of access to services, goods, and opportunities to work, be educated, and grow).  All those I talk to, want to see all First Nation people having the same kind of opportunities and support that are available to the majority of Canadians.  So wouldn’t it make sense to do away with the “reserve system” at least in these remote places?

The reserves, which First Nation people do not even legally own, are all the land Canada has left the First Peoples, the descendants of nations that spent time living in huge territories, migrating with the seasons.  They did not live in isolated, small, geographically isolated communities.  But this time has passed.  Now there are reserves.  There is no “homeland” to which First Nation peoples may return.  And many of the more remote reserves are located in parts of the country which at least have the merit of allowing First Nation people to continue traditional activities, such as hunting and trapping, in nearby lands “off reserve.” So what has been left to us, First Nation people, is not easy to give up, and certainly won’t be given up for nothing.

This opens a discussion of self-government.  How will First Nation people live in the future?  It is theirs to determine.  The government has a policy of negotiating self-government arrangements—a painfully slow process from everyone’s perspective.  I cannot predict what will happen with these negotiations, but with self-governing communities now in existence in British Columbia, and parts of the Far North, including Nunavut, I see the landscape of Canada slowly changing.  The reserve system is changing, and even disappearing in places.

From a historical perspective, it’s helpful to remember that indigenous peoples have lived in what is now Canada for 20,000 years.  Reserves have existed for about 150 years of that time period.  It is exciting to build a new country, to support First Nation, Inuit and Metis peoples in imagining and building their future communities, which, I confidently predict will eventually no longer be called “reserves.”

Lori Ransom is the Healing & Reconciliation Animator at The Presbyterian Church in Canada.