Sep. 7, 2016
Reflections from Indian Residential School Survivors
By: Hillary (Hilly) Johnson & John Jones
Trigger Warning: This article contains content that may trigger unpleasant feelings or thoughts for survivors and intergenerational survivors of the residential school system. This article is intended to acknowledge that this season can be a hard time of year for those who have been affected by residential school.
First Nations and Aboriginal peoples who may require emotional support can contact the 24-hour KUU-US Crisis Line at 1-800-588-8717.
With September comes a change in season. As the leaves are beginning to turn colour, so marks the end of the long bombardment of back-to-school ads. These ads tend to feature happy children, bright eyed and excited to return to school, and even happier parents, joyfully seeing them off on yellow school buses.
For Canada's Indian residential school survivors, back-to-school season can be a time of emotional triggers. To acknowledge this hard time for some, two Elders shared with FNHA their recollections of what "back to school" meant for them and our country's history.
The yellow school bus—Reflections from Hilly Johnson, who attended St. Josephs Residential School in Williams Lake
Hillary (Hilly) Johnson is Esketemc from Alkali Lake, BC and spent eight years at the St. Josephs Residential School in Williams Lake. He recounts his first day of school:
The first time I went to residential school, I was pretty young—I remember a yellow bus came onto the reserve and most of the kids were curious, wondering what's going on. Then, all of a sudden, father said we had to get on the bus. Excited little kids, we just, you know, probably ran on and wondering where we're going.
So we were just all happy to get on and just jump on the bus and, next thing you know, we were a two-hour ride to St. Joseph's Mission. I still remember when we got there we were curious what was going on. Lining up and getting sent to the third floor where our dorms where we were going to be staying were.
And then we're talking to these strange people, you know, to us they were strange because they were talking to us in English and we were all used to our own language. And we didn't really understand what they were saying. It wasn't only me. There was a lot of other people had this similar story, that—every time we—there was people around here even see a bus coming, excuse me, come on the reserve around September, that triggers a lot of memories for quite a few of them that, hey, here comes a bus coming to pick us up.
Remembering loss in September—John Jones shares his experience
John Jones is Coast Salish from Snaw-Naw-As (Nanoose First Nations). For years, John attended residential school in Port Alberni. His first memories of back-to-school time are of being separated from his brothers and sisters.
The first time I experienced loss it was in September. My older brothers and sister went to residential school and me and my younger sister were left at home and I used to cry for them because they wouldn't be with us. And I wanted to be with them, and I used to tell my mum that I wanted to be with them.
When I was in grade two, that's when I got sent to the residential school in Port Alberni because my mum allowed it to happen. After being there, I wasn't sure what was happening, and what things were going to take place. And I soon realized that it was a cold building-- its staff were cruel.
And there were landmarks I used to take when we were driving to Port Alberni from Nanoose. And every landmark I would pass I would feel myself getting colder and thinking I didn't want to be there. But as a child it seemed like I had no choice but to go.
Toward healing—Hold your loved ones, survivors and intergenerational survivors close and don't let them isolate themselves
Both Hilly and John have done a lot of healing work and have tremendous hope for healthy future generations. Hilly actively talks about his experience in the schools, and John has assisted hundreds of survivors and intergenerational survivors through his work in trauma, alcohol and drug treatment. Nevertheless, this time of year can transport these men back in time to when they had little power.
John acknowledges that he still carries the same defence mechanisms today as he did when he was a child, and he is working to make it better for his kids and grandkids:
Every September, my defence mechanisms kick in, and I start to push people away—because I used to feel betrayed by, first of all my mum for bringing me to a place that would hurt me, and betrayal to the staff of the residential school because they were trusted with my care and upbringing, and they abused me.
To cope with this defence mechanism, he has found that talking to his children has helped:
I told my children how I might display anger and push them away, and I told them that that's my trauma coming out, and I need help in dealing with it.
John and his children also have a system in place to address regression. He counsels his kids that the best way for them to help is to keep him firmly rooted in the here and now:
When you see me trying to push you away, remind me that I'm here in the future. That I'm your father, and I'm safe now. "You're not a child anymore. You're home, and you have a wife and children." I ask them to say things like that when they see my old defence mechanisms coming up.
Hilly notes that it is his grandchildren who are hungry for information about his experience and he welcomes their questions. Speaking in schools has given Hilly a platform to share his story and to educate future generations about residential schools.
So I'm really glad that they are asking questions, and that's the only place I can really give them advice is when they ask me to go to high schools and speak in front of all the other kids. And it goes widely instead of just to one individual, and I'm glad that other kids are really learning about it.
Three things families and friends of residential school survivors can do this time of year:1) Manage your feelings. By addressing your own anxiety first, you're in a much stronger position to respond to others. Don't be afraid to reach out for help!
2) When a residential school survivor opens up, look, listen and link:
• Look for isolating behaviours and make extra efforts to include survivors in family and community gatherings. In August and early September, check in or visit parents, grandparents, aunties and uncles.
• Listen and simply acknowledge their pain and listen to what is going on with them. Remember, it's okay to admit that you don't know what to say.
• Link to what resources are available, such as the KUU-US Crisis Line at 1-800-588-871.
3) Celebrate the end of residential schools. Have a back-to-school feast and celebrate our kids going back to school. |
Support is available for anyone having a hard time this time of the year
24-Hour Residential School Crisis Line
Please call 1-866-925-4419 if you require emotional support.
24-hour KUU-US Crisis Line
First Nations and Aboriginal peoples who may require emotional support can contact the KUU-US Crisis Line at 1-800-588-8717
BC Indian Residential School Survivor Society
Indian Residential School Survivor Society provides emotional support and can be contacted at 1-800-721-0066.
View our list of
BC Indian Residential School Support Programs
