I had no idea what I was in for when I took my seat at the Raven’s Cry Theatre last Saturday to see the film We Were Children. I knew it was a documentary about the things that happened to First Nations children in the residential school system, but I wasn’t prepared for the disgusting reality of it all.
I had heard stories from Elders in the past about having their tongues pierced with needles if they were caught speaking their language and about the sexual abuses endured, but I never really let myself see all of that in my mind. It was too uncomfortable, and I just couldn’t go there.
On Feb. 15, I had no choice.
There on a gigantic screen were children, just like my babies, being ripped from the homes and the people they knew, forced into a system and a language they didn’t understand, and then, when they needed love and support the most, those in charge raped and sodomized them, beat them, locked them up, tortured them and generally treated them worse than animals, all in the name of God.
I wanted to leave the theatre multiple times. I almost threw up twice. I cried a lot.
Before the film began, audience members were told there were some people on hand to help with difficult feelings that might arise from the show, and while I knew they were there to help those residential school survivors who were hurting, I felt like I needed some counselling myself.
The realization just drove the point home, if I ever had any doubt, that residential school atrocities must have left deep and unforgettable emotional scars on the people who endured them.
Another supremely uncomfortable realization was the fact those who inflicted pain did so in the name of God.
This might be a good time to mention I’m a Christian.
I know that people have been doing evil in God’s name for centuries, but it doesn’t make it any easier to take.
I hope that First Nations people can understand that God wasn’t part of the hell they endured in residential schools. Evil people disguised as people of God did it, and God will judge them.
I must admit that after the movie I secretly hoped God made those people suffer greatly before they died and that they are now hurting in hell for eternity. I know, very Christian of me, right?
On a more positive note, I’m glad Canada admitted their horrific residential school policy (forcing children into school by threat of jail time for their parents) was wrong and that survivors needed compensation and an apology.
What was missing from that 2008 apology and settlement was recognition of wrongs done to students who attended residential school during the daytime alone, which is the case of local First Nations people.
The schools are gone now, but the people are still hurting and they need to know Canada sees it and that we care.
When I got home from the movie that night, I struggled with unwanted images coming to me over and over again. I was depressed, angry and confused, and after I put my kids to bed that night, guess what I wanted? I wanted to have a couple beers and forget about it all. Now I get it.
