Thoughts on Being a Canadian on Stolen Land
By: Adam Caldwell
Tags: Canada, Indigenous, Residential School, Settler Colonialism, Reconciliation

Thoughts on Being a Canadian on Stolen Land

Edited July 3, 2021

Flags Flying at Squamish Municipal Hall on June 30, 2021

This Canada Day, it seems, will be like none other. As I write this, a non-native sitting in front of Town Hall on Traditional Unceded Sḵwx̱wú7mesh territory, the Canadian flag, fluttering full-mast is reflected on my screen. It gives me cause to reflect on how this town commits to partnership and reconciliation as the Indigenous First Nation for which is named are mourning.

The news of the past few weeks has caught many Canadians unaware and left wondering what to do. Calls to cancel Canada Day have been growing and have created considerable debate, with some otherwise well-intentioned people feeling like they’re being guilted or shamed. But that is a misunderstanding of the intent, a misunderstanding of history, and of the current situation. As a non-Indigenous settler, being unaware is becoming an increasingly untenable position. Perhaps this Canada Day is a good day to learn why.

Before Kamloops, it is estimated that two-thirds of Canadians did not know the story of residential schools in Canada. While I can empathize, I am going to challenge the ignorance plea. This was not exactly a secret. Stephen Harper gave a formal apology for residential schools in the House of Commons. It was front-page news for days and fodder for political punditry for weeks. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission, subsequent to the apology ran for nearly 7 years, heard firsthand stories that were front-page news on dozens of occasions. The findings of the TRC and subsequent recommendations have been studied, discussed, and to some degree implemented in the years since. So, I would challenge you to ask yourself — if you did not know, WHY NOT?

But as I said, I am not entirely unsympathetic. Canadians apparently don’t know their own history, especially the bad stuff. Why would we? We’ve been raised to feel great about who and where we are, and not worry about the details. I had the same education in Canadian History as most folks my age, recounting how the “helpful” natives wanted the newcomers to flourish and agreed to give us the land. Stereotypes of substance abuse, poverty, and crime were not part of the “official” narrative but were taught “unofficially” in my predominantly white, middle-class schools. They were handed down to us in the news and around the dinner table. These stories were told to us to assure we would dismiss the real voices of Indigenous peoples.

Personally, as a kid, I fancied the Natives depicted from Cooper’s “Last of the Mohicans” or The Lone Ranger. They were portrayed as noble, powerful, stoic, mystical, and just a little sad. The last of a dying race, ever the sidekick, ceding their power to the heroic white man. The trope of the “disappearing native” was designed to assuage Christian white guilt and legitimize the theft of land and is probably what led to my teenage dabbling in New-Age pseudo-Indigeneity, blithely imposing myself into Indigenous spaces.

A feeling that I was not respecting their culture led me to ask questions, and ultimately meet and get to know Indigenous peoples. I listened to them speak, I read books they recommended. I heard profoundly painful first-person stories of colonialism and residential school. At times I felt what it was like to be the only non-Native person in the room. These moments gave me perspective, which I owe to the trust, openness, and generosity of elders and other community members who were willing to share their experiences with the non-Indigenous settlers who happen to be present. As a non-Native person, I learned that I have no right to Indigenous culture. I began to understand that literally everything had been ripped from them, and their culture was key to their resilience, and the seat of their power. That is why the Canadian Government has been trying to destroy Indigenous culture since before Confederation. As a non-native, I had to respect that space and let them occupy it without fear of intrusion.

You see, I have come to understand that non-Indigenous settler presence within Indigenous culture, especially when permission is not requested, is much like being stalked by your abuser. We have been taught that when someone has been abused, we should believe them and not trivialize their trauma. Yet we do not believe them, and we continue to stalk them. We stalk them by appropriating and subverting their culture while silencing their stories and making them invisible. By putting them in the “Native” box, instead of seeing them as people who have a distinct culture and history — a history that profoundly intersects with our own.

The stories have been out there for decades. The first whistleblower about the horrors of the residential schools was Dr. Peter Bryce, who published his findings in The Evening Citizen on Nov. 15, 1907. So why don’t we believe the stories? Maybe we fear we will be implicated, singled out as the abuser, or at least complicit in the abuse. Maybe it simply offends our sense of civic pride. Maybe today we are shocked and surprised because until now Canadians have made a choice to not listen.

Some researchers have placed the value of natural resources that have been extracted from Canada since Confederation at over $600 Trillion (Derrickson, afterward). It begs the question — if we had traded in good faith, where would Indigenous Nations be today? Instead, we starved, murdered, displaced, and attempted to forcibly assimilate the “helpful” natives who wanted the newcomers to flourish. Canada has covered this treachery up with demeaning stereotypes, revisionist history, and contemporary government policy that aims to drive them to relinquish the few traditional lands and rights they retain, or keep Indigenous peoples fragmented and dependent on the Federal government. Sure, it may not have been abuse by your hand, but failure to understand and acknowledge these stories leaves us complicit in the abuse.

Now, since Kamloops, since Marieval, since St Eugene’s Mission, and many others, we are now learning the stories are real, in a visceral, undeniable way.

The Kamloops Indian Residential School, circa 1930. Source: Kamloops This Week, October 7, 2020

This Canada Day I will be thinking of my Indigenous friends and colleagues in at least 6 provinces and territories who have been grieving these past weeks. Their pain is real. It did not just happen — it has always been there. It is time Canadians accept that the history and narratives we have been taught are simply not accurate. The ugly tropes are simply false, meant to obfuscate the stories of the people who experienced them. The evils of the past and the policy of the present may not have been carried out by your hands, but we have a social and moral responsibility to Truth and Reconciliation.

This Canada Day, as Non-Native Settlers, let’s acknowledge their grief. Empathize. Hear, and believe their stories. Re-learn your history. Optimally, demand the government act for meaningful change. A roadmap exists, there are 94 recommendations in the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and we need to start the hard work. Informed teaching of history. Taking steps to true Nation-to-Nation recognition and facilitating self-determination. Proper investigations into historical wrongdoings, including missing and murdered Indigenous women and children and men*. Restitution for stolen wealth and displacements. Repatriation of Traditional lands.

This Canada Day let’s join Indigenous peoples in a day of mourning & collective reflection. Let’s See and Believe Indigenous peoples. Acknowledge their trauma. Then, insist the government start doing the work. And if some of us cannot do that, at the very least, let’s not obstruct. This is the path to a Canada we can once again celebrate.