Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts

Tuesday, 30 September 2025

Confronting Denial: The Truth About Residential Schools

When Frances Widdowson, a former professor at Mount Royal University, recently spoke at the University of Manitoba and the University of Winnipeg, she brought with her a familiar message: doubt. She questioned the graves of Indigenous children found across the sites of residential schools in Canada, reviving a narrative of denial that has become louder in some circles.

Widdowson, dismissed from her former post for controversial views on Indigenous issues, has written extensively about what she calls the “Aboriginal industry.” She frames the story of Indigenous suffering as inflated, the voices of survivors as suspect. To some, she represents academic freedom. To others, she is a voice determined to minimize truth.


Truth from Lived Experience

Last week, my own commanding officer at my military unit the Fort Garry Horse, where I serve as an officer, chaplain and Indigenous Knowledge Keeper, organized an evening of reflection for the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. I spoke that night about my family’s experience.

My father and grandmother both attended residential schools in Saskatchewan. Their lives were profoundly shaped by those institutions. The harm was not abstract; it was lived, felt, carried into the next generations. It made me homeless a young child, my mother called it “camping.”

As a Member of Parliament in 2015, I was present when the Truth and Reconciliation Commission released its final report. We learned then what many already knew: at least 4,000 children died in residential schools. Their names were recorded, their deaths documented. Many were buried in unmarked graves on school grounds. The federal government knew these children were dying at far higher rates than other Canadian children. Officials tracked this information. And then, for decades, they hid it.

Facing the Facts

Those who say “show me the bodies” ignore the record. We already have thousands of names. We already know that children died, were buried and were never returned home. Behind every number was a child with a mother, a father, siblings, and extended family. These children were loved. They were wanted. They were taken.

It is easier, perhaps, for some to deny than to confront the complicity of government and churches in crimes that stretch across generations. Some cling to the belief that their faith institutions could not possibly have sanctioned such harm. But denial does not erase truth. And refusing to face it dishonours not only the children but also the survivors who have carried their stories forward.

Beyond the Past

We tell ourselves these tragedies belong to “old Canada,” that such things could never happen again. Yet today, Indigenous children across Canada are still taken into the care of the state at rates far, far higher than other children. Child welfare has become the new residential school system, the removing of children from their families, culture and communities under the guise of protection.

This is not only a Canadian story. Around the world, Indigenous children remain targets of state power. In Greenland, in Tibet, among Uyghur communities in China, governments continue to erase cultures by severing children from their roots.

The Role of Debate

Should Widdowson be banned from speaking? I believe not. Silencing her will not silence denial. Instead, we must debate her and others like her, confronting them with facts, with lived truth, with the voices of survivors and families who still mourn.

When denialists speak, it is not only history they distort but the humanity of the children who never came home. Confronting that denial is not just about setting the record straight, it is about ensuring those children are not erased a second time.

A Call to Remember

On September 25, as I spoke about my family, I thought of those 4,000 children whose lives were cut short. They cannot speak for themselves. We, the living, must speak for them. We owe them truth.

The history of residential schools is not up for debate. What remains in question is whether we have the courage to carry that truth forward and ensure no more Indigenous children are lost to systems that continue to refuse to see their worth.


https://ici.radio-canada.ca/espaces-autochtones/2195920/pensionnats-autochtones-deni-verite-negation 

 

Affronter le déni : la vérité sur les pensionnats autochtone

Quand Frances Widdowson, ancienne professeure à l’Université Mount Royal, est venue récemment à l’Université du Manitoba et à l’Université de Winnipeg, elle a apporté avec elle un message familier : le doute. Elle a remis en question les tombes d’enfants autochtones retrouvées sur les sites des pensionnats au Canada et a ravivé un récit de déni qui prend de plus en plus de place dans certains milieux.

 

Widdowson, congédiée de son ancien poste pour ses positions controversées sur les questions autochtones, a beaucoup écrit sur ce qu’elle appelle « l’industrie autochtone ». Elle présente l’histoire de la souffrance des peuples autochtones comme exagérée et considère les voix des survivants comme suspectes. Pour certains, elle incarne la liberté académique. Pour d’autres, elle est une voix déterminée à minimiser la vérité.

 


Une vérité vécue

 

La semaine dernière, mon commandant de l’unité militaire Fort Garry Horse, où je sers comme officier, aumônier et gardien du savoir autochtone, a organisé une soirée de réflexion pour la Journée nationale de la vérité et de la réconciliation. Ce soir-là, j’ai parlé de l’expérience de ma famille.

 

Mon père et ma grand-mère ont tous deux fréquenté les pensionnats en Saskatchewan. Leurs vies ont été profondément marquées par ces institutions. Le mal n’était pas abstrait, il était vécu, ressenti et transmis aux générations suivantes. Cela m’a laissé sans-abri lorsque j’étais enfant et ma mère appelait cela « faire du camping ».

 

Comme député en 2015, j’étais présent lors de la publication du rapport final de la Commission de vérité et réconciliation. Nous avons appris alors ce que beaucoup savaient déjà, qu’au moins 4 000 enfants étaient morts dans les pensionnats. Leurs noms ont été consignés et leurs décès documentés. Beaucoup ont été enterrés dans des tombes anonymes sur les terrains des écoles. Le gouvernement fédéral savait que ces enfants mouraient à des taux bien plus élevés que les autres enfants canadiens. Les fonctionnaires ont suivi cette information et ensuite, pendant des décennies, ils l’ont cachée.

 

Faire face aux faits

 

Ceux qui disent « montrez-moi les corps » ignorent les archives. Nous avons déjà des milliers de noms. Nous savons déjà que des enfants sont morts, qu’ils ont été enterrés et qu’ils ne sont jamais rentrés chez eux. Derrière chaque chiffre se trouvait un enfant avec une mère et un père et des frères et sœurs et une famille élargie. Ces enfants étaient aimés. Ils étaient désirés. Ils ont été arrachés.

 

Il est plus facile pour certains de nier que de confronter la complicité du gouvernement et des Églises dans des crimes qui s’étendent sur des générations. Certains s’accrochent à la croyance que leurs institutions religieuses n’auraient jamais pu permettre un tel mal. Mais le déni n’efface pas la vérité. Et refuser de l’affronter déshonore non seulement les enfants mais aussi les survivants qui ont porté leurs récits jusqu’à nous.

 

Au-delà du passé

 

Nous nous disons que ces tragédies appartiennent au « vieux Canada » et qu’une telle chose ne pourrait plus jamais se reproduire. Pourtant aujourd’hui, des enfants autochtones partout au Canada sont encore placés sous la tutelle de l’État à des taux bien, bien plus élevés que les autres enfants. La protection de l’enfance est devenue le nouveau système de pensionnats, en retirant les enfants de leurs familles et de leur culture et de leurs communautés sous prétexte de protection.

 

Ce n’est pas seulement une histoire canadienne. Partout dans le monde, les enfants autochtones demeurent la cible des pouvoirs étatiques. Au Groenland et au Tibet et parmi les communautés ouïghoures en Chine, les gouvernements continuent d’effacer des cultures en arrachant les enfants à leurs racines.

 

Le rôle du débat

 

Faut-il interdire à Widdowson de parler? Je ne le crois pas. La réduire au silence ne réduira pas le déni au silence. Nous devons plutôt la confronter, elle et d’autres comme elle, avec des faits et des vérités vécues et avec les voix des survivants et des familles qui pleurent encore.

 

Quand les négationnistes parlent, ce n’est pas seulement l’histoire qu’ils déforment mais l’humanité des enfants qui ne sont jamais revenus chez eux. Affronter ce déni ne consiste pas seulement à rétablir les faits, cela consiste à veiller à ce que ces enfants ne soient pas effacés une seconde fois.

 

Un appel au souvenir

 

Le 25 septembre, lorsque j’ai parlé de ma famille, j’ai pensé à ces 4 000 enfants dont la vie a été écourtée. Ils ne peuvent pas parler pour eux-mêmes. Nous, les vivants, devons parler pour eux. Nous leur devons la vérité.


L’histoire des pensionnats autochtones n’est pas un sujet de débat. La vraie question est de savoir si nous aurons le courage de porter cette vérité en avant et de veiller à ce qu’aucun autre enfant autochtone ne soit perdu à des systèmes qui continuent de refuser de reconnaître leur valeur. 

 

Rien à voir ici, continuez vos affaires
Les jeunes se blessaient elles-mêmes
Nous avons essayé de les sauver
C’est leur faute, toujours leur faute
Si seulement ils faisaient ce qu’on leur dit 


https://ici.radio-canada.ca/espaces-autochtones/2195920/pensionnats-autochtones-deni-verite-negation

Wednesday, 17 September 2025

What falling birth rates mean for Indigenous peoples in Canada

Elon Musk warns of “population collapse.” Taking the very long view, he is not wrong: if humanity stopped having children, one day there would be none of us left. But on the timelines most of us live in, the lives of this generation and the next, the question is less apocalyptic and more intimate: what kind of future are we preparing for our children, and will our peoples still recognize ourselves in it?


For Indigenous peoples in Canada, the story of population has never been abstract. We were once spoken of in the past tense. Yet in spite of everything, we are still here, and not by accident. Families, aunties, kokums and moshums, communities and ceremonies protected life. As Jody Wilson-Raybould once told me in Parliament, after hearing how many children I had: “You are blessed.” For years, I had heard the opposite, that children are a burden, a career problem, “too many.” But anyone who has ever been on the powwow trail with toddlers knows the truth: children can be difficult, hilarious, generous, exhausting, and they are the reason we keep going.

In our teachings, the Eastern direction is where the sun rises and where the children come from, the first light of a new day. Children are not an afterthought to policy; they are the policy. We begin our prayers with them because they are the future.

The numbers: Canada is at a record low

Canada’s total fertility rate, the average number of children per woman, hit 1.33 in 2022, the lowest on record (replacement is about 2.1). In 2023 it fell again. At the same time, nearly all of Canada’s population growth came from international migration: 97.6% in 2023, with natural increase contributing just 2.4%. Ottawa plans to admit 485,000 new permanent residents in 2024 and half a million in both 2025 and 2026.

These facts sit uneasily together: fewer babies, more newcomers. It is a recipe for rapid demographic change, especially in cities where most Indigenous people now live.

Indigenous fertility: convergence with the rest of Canada

A recent peer-reviewed analysis shows Indigenous fertility has fallen below replacement and is converging with non-Indigenous levels. The Indigenous fertility rate hovered around replacement in 2001–2011, slipped to 1.82 in 2016 and 1.54 in 2021. Within that average, Inuit remain above replacement (about 2.6 in 2021), Status First Nations fell to 1.8, while Métis and non-status First Nations stayed well below replacement (around 1.2).

The gap with non-Indigenous Canadians has narrowed to almost nothing. The direction is unmistakable: Indigenous birth rates are falling.

Will we disappear?

Some fear that low fertility plus high immigration means Indigenous peoples will fade into a footnote. I do not accept that. Existence is not arithmetic; it is governance, land, language, culture and law. Our survival never depended only on birth rates. If it had, the last century might have ended us. We are still here because we insisted on being ourselves, raising children in the circle of kinship, ceremony and responsibility.

Still, low fertility has consequences. We should plan for them, our way, on our terms.

A word about blessings

There is a reason Elders smile when a baby crawls into the circle. Children are the living argument for hope. They are not “monsters.” They are teachers of patience, humility and love. They turn strangers into aunties. They remind leaders why budgets exist. They dance us forward.

Too often, when Indigenous families welcome children, the reaction from outside is cynical: “another mouth to feed,” or worse, “another government file to open.” Instead of suspicion, let us celebrate Indigenous families. Let us help them, not take their children away. Let us remember that every child is a blessing, and every family that raises them in love and culture is a success story.

For generations, governments sought to control our children in order to control our future. Residential schools, the Sixties Scoop, child welfare policies—all were designed to break our nations by breaking our families. But our children are still here, and they remain our future. Protecting and raising them in our ways is how we shape who we are and who we will become.

Canada’s fertility is at record lows. Immigration is at record highs. Indigenous birth rates, except among Inuit, now sit below replacement. Those are the facts. The question is not whether we can “out-breed” change. It is whether we will out-love and out-govern it, making this country and our communities places where raising a child is once again understood as a blessing.

When we pray in the morning, we face East to greet the sun and to honour the children. The day is new. So is the future. And we are still here.

https://www.demographic-research.org/articles/volume/53/6/


1960s–1970s: TFRs for First Nations women were very high, often above 6 children per woman in the 1960s. 

By the 1970s, fertility had already begun to decline significantly (part of the global fertility transition), but remained well above the Canadian average. 

For example, Ram (2004) estimated Aboriginal fertility around 6.8 in 1966–1971, declining to 4.0 by 1976–1981

1980s–1990s: Continued decline, but still relatively high compared to non-Indigenous women. 

By 1996–2001, First Nations women’s TFR was around 2.9, compared with 1.5–1.6 for non-Indigenous women

2000s–2010s: 

2001: Status Indian TFR = 2.45 

2006: 2.39 

2011: 2.55 

2016: 2.11 

2021: 1.82 (below replacement)

Que signifient les taux de natalité en baisse pour les peuples autochtones au Canada

Elon Musk met en garde contre « l’effondrement démographique ». À très long terme, il n’a pas tort : si l’humanité cessait d’avoir des enfants, il n’y aurait plus personne un jour. Mais sur les horizons qui nous concernent, ceux de cette génération et de la suivante, la question est moins apocalyptique qu’intime : quel avenir préparons-nous à nos enfants et nos peuples s’y reconnaîtront-ils encore ?


Pour les peuples autochtones du Canada, la question démographique n’a jamais été abstraite. On nous a déjà parlés au passé. Pourtant, malgré tout, nous sommes encore là, et ce n’est pas un hasard. Les familles, les tantes, les kokums et les moshums, les communautés et les cérémonies ont protégé la vie. Comme me l’a dit un jour Jody Wilson-Raybould au Parlement, après avoir appris combien j’avais d’enfants : « Tu es béni. » Pendant des années, j’ai entendu le contraire : que les enfants sont un fardeau, un obstacle à une carrière, « trop nombreux ». Mais quiconque a déjà parcouru le pow-wow avec des tout-petits connaît la vérité : les enfants peuvent être exigeants, drôles, généreux, épuisants, et ils sont la raison pour laquelle nous continuons.


Dans nos enseignements, l’Est est la direction où le soleil se lève et d’où viennent les enfants, la première lumière d’un nouveau jour. Les enfants ne sont pas un détail secondaire des politiques ; ils en sont le cœur. Nous commençons nos prières avec eux, parce qu’ils sont l’avenir.



Les chiffres : un record de faiblesse au Canada

 

Le taux de natalité total du Canada, c’est-à-dire le nombre moyen d’enfants par femme, a atteint 1,33 en 2022, le niveau le plus bas jamais enregistré (le seuil de remplacement étant d’environ 2,1). En 2023, il a encore diminué. En même temps, presque toute la croissance démographique provenait de l’immigration internationale : 97,6 % en 2023, contre seulement 2,4 % pour l’accroissement naturel. Ottawa prévoit d’admettre 485 000 nouveaux résidents permanents en 2024 et un demi-million en 2025 et 2026.

 

Ces faits se côtoient difficilement : moins de bébés, plus de nouveaux arrivants. C’est une recette pour un changement démographique rapide, surtout dans les villes où vit désormais la majorité des Autochtones.

 

La natalité autochtone : une convergence avec le reste du Canada

 

Une analyse récente montre que la natalité autochtone est passée sous le seuil de remplacement et converge avec celle des non-Autochtones. Le taux de natalité autochtone s’est maintenu près du remplacement entre 2001 et 2011, mais il est tombé à 1,82 en 2016 et 1,54 en 2021. Dans cet ensemble, les Inuits demeurent au-dessus du remplacement (environ 2,6 en 2021), les Premières Nations inscrites sont tombées à 1,8, tandis que les Métis et les Premières Nations non inscrites sont restés nettement en dessous (environ 1,2).

 

L’écart avec les Canadiens non autochtones s’est presque effacé. La direction est claire : les taux de natalité autochtones baissent.

 

Allons-nous disparaître ?

 

Certains craignent que la faible natalité combinée à une immigration élevée ne relègue les peuples autochtones à une note de bas de page. Je n’y crois pas. L’existence n’est pas une affaire d’arithmétique ; c’est une affaire de gouvernance, de terres, de langues, de culture et de lois. Notre survie n’a jamais dépendu uniquement des naissances. Si cela avait été le cas, le siècle dernier aurait pu nous faire disparaître. Nous sommes encore là parce que nous avons insisté pour être nous-mêmes, en élevant nos enfants dans le cercle de la parenté, de la cérémonie et de la responsabilité.

 

Cependant, la baisse de la fécondité a des conséquences. Nous devons les anticiper, à notre façon et selon nos termes.

 

Il y a une raison pour laquelle les Aînés sourient lorsqu’un bébé rampe dans le cercle. Les enfants sont l’argument vivant en faveur de l’espoir. Ils ne sont pas des « petits monstres ». Ce sont des enseignants de patience, d’humilité et d’amour. Ils transforment des étrangers en tantes. Ils rappellent aux dirigeants pourquoi les budgets existent. Ils nous font avancer en dansant.

Trop souvent, quand une famille autochtone accueille un enfant, la réaction extérieure est cynique : « une autre bouche à nourrir », ou pire, « un autre dossier pour un organisme gouvernemental. » Au lieu de suspicion, célébrons les familles autochtones. Aidons-les, ne leur enlevons pas leurs enfants. Souvenons-nous que chaque enfant est une bénédiction, et que chaque famille qui l’élève dans l’amour et la culture est une réussite.

 

Pendant des générations, les gouvernements ont voulu contrôler nos enfants afin de contrôler notre avenir. Les pensionnats, la rafle des années 1960, les politiques de protection de l’enfance, tout cela visait à briser nos nations en brisant nos familles. Mais nos enfants sont encore là, et ils demeurent notre avenir. Les protéger et les élever selon nos façons est la manière de façonner qui nous sommes et qui nous serons.

 

Quand nous prions le matin, nous faisons face à l’Est pour saluer le soleil et honorer les enfants. Le jour est nouveau. L’avenir aussi. Et nous sommes toujours là.


https://www.demographic-research.org/articles/volume/53/6/ 

 

Enfants, petits « monstres » ou trésors éclatants,
Sans eux, qui porterait nos chants ?
Sans leurs rires, serions-nous encore ici ?
Peuples autochtones, l’avenir vit en eux, infini.


Taux de fécondité total (TFT) historique pour les Premières Nations / Indiens inscrits

Années 1960–1970 :
Les TFT des femmes des Premières Nations étaient très élevés, souvent au-dessus de 6 enfants par femme dans les années 1960.

Dès les années 1970, la fécondité avait déjà commencé à baisser de façon significative (faisant partie de la transition démographique mondiale), mais elle demeurait bien supérieure à la moyenne canadienne.

Par exemple, Ram (2004) estimait la fécondité autochtone à environ 6,8 en 1966–1971, chutant à 4,0 entre 1976–1981.

Années 1980–1990 :
Le déclin s’est poursuivi, mais les taux demeuraient relativement élevés comparativement aux femmes non autochtones.

Entre 1996–2001, le TFT des femmes des Premières Nations se situait autour de 2,9, comparativement à 1,5–1,6 pour les femmes non autochtones.

Années 2000–2010 :

  • 2001 : TFT des Indiens inscrits = 2,45
  • 2006 : 2,39
  • 2011 : 2,55
  • 2016 : 2,11
  • 2021 : 1,82 (en dessous du seuil de remplacement)

 

Wednesday, 5 March 2025

 Open Letter to Prime Minister Justin Trudeau

(with copies to Grand Chief Cindy Woodhouse and all concerned parties)

Dear Prime Minister Trudeau,

I write to you in these final days of being Prime Minister, with a new Liberal leader soon to be chosen on March 9th and a general election likely to follow. It has been a remarkable nine years, but time is running short, and there is an urgent matter that must be fully resolved now, rather than left to the uncertainties of a new government. That matter is the long-overdue resolution of the First Nations child welfare dispute—a cause that has persisted under your leadership, with First Nations communities and, above all, their children still awaiting justice.



Much progress has been made, yet despite a potentially historic $47.8-billion proposal to overhaul on-reserve child welfare services, the process remains tangled in legal and political challenges. The Assembly of First Nations (AFN) Chiefs rejected the initial proposal and established the National Children’s Chiefs Commission (NCCC), chaired by Chief Pauline Frost of Vuntut Gwitchin First Nation, to reset negotiations. Canada, however, refuses to meet with the NCCC. Minister of Indigenous Services Patty Hajdu has stated there is “confusion” around the roles of the AFN and the NCCC. Meanwhile, the AFN insists it has clearly communicated that the NCCC should lead negotiations. This standoff directly harms children, families, and communities.

As Elders have often counseled me, kisēwātisiwinihk—speaking and acting from the heart—must guide our decisions. When I served as an MP under your leadership, I received a call from your office during the 2019 election, asking me not to speak publicly about the lawsuit involving First Nations children. I was assured it would be resolved as soon as the election ended. Yet another five years have passed, prolonging injustice. I pray I was not wrong. 

Meanwhile, the Canadian Human Rights Tribunal (CHRT) continues to uphold its 2016 finding that Canada’s child welfare system is discriminatory. Some chiefs, like Derek Nepinak of Minegoziibe Anishinabe, want an “opt-in” clause; others support the new NCCC. Even AFN National Chief Cindy Woodhouse Nepinak faces criticism from regional chiefs who question her closeness to your government.

Amid these political and legal disputes, we risk losing sight of who matters most: the children. They face the damaging consequences of an underfunded, inequitable system—conditions reminiscent of the tragedies once perpetuated by residential schools. Rather than cooperation, letters and legal motions circulate among your ministers, the AFN, the NCCC, and the First Nations Child and Family Caring Society. When the only real mandate should be the well-being of First Nations children, we see endless conflict.


With a leadership transition looming, and a possible new government on the horizon, we cannot assume a Conservative administration would uphold this settlement. If we wait, these children will remain entangled in legal battles instead of receiving the support they deserve—another tragic echo of past injustices. After nine years of litigation, the time to finish this work is now. I know you are busy with President Trump and trade disputes, but the AFN’s office is within walking distance—close enough for face-to-face conversation. The chiefs did not reject your proposal out of personal dislike; they carry decades of distrust toward government. They need a legally words written on your official paper as witness that First Nations peoples have full responsibility for their children.

A lasting solution demands compassion and humility from all sides. While details are important, Elders remind us not to be paralyzed by the quest to be “100% right.” Instead, we should honor kisēwātisiwinihk—acting from humanity and justice. It is time to address systemic inequities.

We may not, at this moment, eliminate the Indian Act or guarantee clean water for every First Nation. Yet we can take a decisive step by concluding this settlement now—before your term ends. Let it stand as a testament to reconciliation in action. If your chapter of leadership is closing, end it with clarity and respect, ensuring First Nations children receive the fairness they deserve. When historians reflect on your final days, let them see you standing up and saying every child matters.

Sincerely,
Robert-Falcon Ouellette
Former Member of Parliament

cc:

  • Grand Chief Cindy Woodhouse (National Chief, Assembly of First Nations)
  • Chief Pauline Frost (Chair, National Children’s Chiefs Commission)
  • Cindy Blackstock (First Nations Child and Family Caring Society)
  • All Concerned Parties

 

Friday, 14 March 2014

Residential Schools, Courts, Structual Violence, Today's Federal Government & an Electric Chair to Shock

MP Charlie Angus has penned a blog on the Residential Schools about the abuse suffered at St-Annes Residential School in Ontario and a current court case. Apparently the federal government through its lawyers has withheld key documents from the court and survivors that they are legally bound to disclose. While normally I would not deal with an issue like this I feel that this is so important in demonstrating the structural violence that Indigenous peoples are exposed to within the legal system, governments, justice system (police). While some might feel that this is a form of retroactive complaining, when the cause of justice is involved the Canadian Human Rights Act, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights should serve as guiding principals for all people involved in the administration of justice. I fail to understand how lawyers could, day after day stand in court, lie and present false information unless they understand that this is their environment (habitus) and their fields of influences are stronger and more powerful than the plaintiffs and there are zero to no consequences for their deeds except possible promotion and the fees they are paid with a holiday at a beach resort.

It should be remembered that when the Ontario Provincial Police investigated in the 1990s they found children were beaten, raped, sexually assaulted and even tortured in a home made electric chair for the entertainment of the staff. The police gathered thousands of pages of witness testimony that resulted in numerous criminal convictions. Is the current Truth and Reconciliation Commission really bring about reconciliation when the federal government does not seem part of the process, not even a disinterested by-standard.

Let the words of the court convince you.Justice Perrell's January 14, 2014 ruling was damning: "Canada's failure to produce the OPP documents about St. Anne's has compromised the IAP and denied the Claimants access to justice." The Ontario Court ruled that the Conservative government had clear legal duties to "search for, collect and provide a report about the persons named in the Application Form as having abused the Claimant... as well as any allegations of physical or sexual abuse committed by such persons, where such allegations were made while the person was an employee or student." (Ruling paragraph 134).

Charlie Angus writes "Justice Department lawyers shrugged when it came to explaining why they had presented a false evidence narrative stating "It must have been human error." This seems like a pretty weak explanation for such a major breach in legal duty. I wrote twice to Minister Justice Mackay on this subversion of legal duty. He waited over six months to respond with a letter full of vague platitudes. However, he did admit they were legally obligated to prepare an accurate narrative."

http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/charlie-angus/residential-schools_b_4920746.html?utm_hp_ref=email_share

Wednesday, 11 December 2013

Perceptions of Aboriginal Students (Radio documentary)

Summary: Albee, Kamila, and Kurt look the perceptions of aboriginal students through research, interviews, and our own opinions.  Included is an interview with Verna Kirkness, Manfred Hildebrandt, and Questions and Answers with Albee and Kurt.  This 25 minutes radio show incorporates some trendy Aboriginal electric music fused with intriguing theory’s behind the perceptions of Aboriginal students.

Producers Involved: Albee Eisbrenner, Kamila Cecelon, Kurt Hildebrandt


Songs Used:
A Tribe Called Red – Electric pow wow drum
A Tribe Called Red – Look at this
A Tribe Called Red – Electric Instrumental 
To Learn More (Radio Documentary)

https://archive.org/details/RadioDocGroup4Mixdown
https://archive.org/download/RadioDocGroup4Mixdown/radio%20doc%20group%204%20mixdown.mp3

Friday, 15 November 2013

Canadian Indian Residential Schools as “Cultural Genocide” (Radio Documentary)




This is a 30 minute independent radio documentary Canadian Indian Residential Schools as “Cultural Genocide.” We will look at how cultural genocide is defined and how various experts in the field would justify using the term genocide to describe the terrible tragedy that is a part of Canadian history. 

Article 2 of the Genocide Convention states that "genocide means any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such:
(a) Killing members of the group;
(b) Causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group;
(c) Deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part;
(d) Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group;
(e) Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.

From these criteria, we see that the Indian Residential School system could easily be classified as a type of cultural genocide. We also explore the intergenerational effects of the Canadian Residential Schools. It is clear that being removed from your family and placed in these institutions could have a negative impact on your life and on the lives of your children. In addition, we provide the views of some everyday people on the issues surrounding Canadian Indian Residential Schools.  Finally, we offer some suggestions for moving forward from here, such as the promotion of aboriginal culture and awareness of past events.

Sources:

Songs:
Red Revolution by Robert Ouellete as sung by Ila Barker
The Road Before Us by Peter Kater
Inuit Stand Up by Susan Aglukark
Voices of the Wind by Alice Gomez
Pocahontas - World Championship Song 96 by Clayton Chief as performed by Melsin Stone

Produced by: Nicole Buhler, Keirston Smith, Cara Fehr, Sara Pirch

To Learn More (Radio Documentary) 
https://archive.org/details/RadiodocMixdownGroup2 
https://archive.org/download/RadiodocMixdownGroup2/radiodoc_mixdown%20group%202.mp3