The Anglican Church of Canada History Update

ABC Publishing has just released a new book: "SEEDS SCATTERED AND SOWN: Studies in the History of Canadian Anglicanism", edited by Norman Knowles. This book is following on the "last general history of the Church in Canada" by Philip Carrington in 1963, and so covers the years in which I have been active as an adult in The Anglican Church of Canada (ACC).

Of particular interest to me is Chapter 9 - "'I Suggest that You Pursue Conversion': Aboriginal Peoples and the Anglican Church of Canada after the Second World War", by Christopher G. Trott. The quote comes from Dave Courchene, President of the Manitoba Indian Brotherhood, speaking to the 24th General Synod (the ACC triennial general meeting), August 20, 1969.

Trott, an assistant professor in Native Studies at St. John's College, University of Manitoba, has worked with Inuit on Baffin Island since 1979, focusing on the history of Anglican missions in the region. "The history of the relationship between the church and First Nations has been seen through the lens of the residential schools", he writes, adding that this "close connection between the history of these schools and missions to and with Aboriginal peoples has obscured other problems and successes." Referencing the works of J.R Miller and J. Milloy with their intensive research on the relationship between the residential schools, the churches, and the federal government, Trott says with understatement: "Anglican involvement in residential schools is a painful story".

And he offers an unvarnished account of the relationship between ACC missionaries, the Church nationally, and the Federal government which I have read in other books and documents. When the author reaches the point at which the lawsuits have been launched, with one western diocese already in bankruptcy, and the General Synod drawing ever closer to the same financial position, I began to take special note, since I have copious notes in my files concerning that time.

The churches were trying to negotiate some sort of financial settlement with the Feds, but frustrations mounted as different church entities faced different numbers of lawsuits, and had differing ways of trying to meet their responsibilities. So the ACC decided to go out on its own to negotiate an arrangement with the government that would "meet the church's obligations in financial terms while at the same time allowing it to continue its ministry, and to expand the healing and reconciliation ministry with Aboriginal peoples".

In November 2002, the ACC and the Feds reached an agreement "that limited the church's responsibility to $25 million, ended Anglican Church involvement in the litigation, and established an alternative dispute resolution (ADR) process for dealing with claims of sexual and physical abuse", Trott writes.

There was strong reaction to the agreement from the Anglican Council of Indigenous Peoples (ACIP), since it had not been consulted in the negotiation process, and Trott suggests there may have been some reason for that, "but it certainly did appear", he continues, " that the old colonial models of the non-Aboriginal church deciding paternalistically on behalf of Aboriginal peoples were still in place, and that nothing had been learned since 1969 in the struggles for Aboriginal recognition in the church."

I remember so well that there were some of us Anglican church people who stood with ACIP, horrified that our Church should take such a cavalier attitude to such a devastating history. We supported ACIP's concern that the ADR process "would restrict the rights of those who might choose to litigate through the courts", and also would "abrogate (survivors' rights) to sue the government and the church on the basis of loss of language and culture."

I also remember my feelings when we realized what had happened between the Church and the ACIP - that the rights of Aboriginal peoples seemed to have been cast aside in order to keep the institution financially viable.

Trott writes: "Perhaps it took a financial crisis of this magnitude finally to focus the attention of the church on the needs of Aboriginal peoples."

I think truer words were never written, and I am pleased and relieved to see this acknowledgement of our failure to live up, at that particular moment, to what I think we as Church are called to do - to stand in solidarity beside our wounded brothers and sisters.

But I also agree that those were very anxious days for the Church, and we know that we are not perfect. In Trott's words,

"To what extent has the Anglican church thrown off the mantle of colonialism in its relationship to Aboriginal peoples? The Residential Schools Settlement Agreement would suggest that when push comes to shove, the church continues its age-old paternalistic role. In the modern period, Aboriginal peoples are positioned to respond quickly and make their voices heard in the councils of the church. There is hope here. ... As Canadian Anglicans struggle to assert the unique identity of their church in relationship to the worldwide Anglican communion, it will be only as we recognize the prophetic vitality of Aboriginal Anglicans that we will have something distinctive to say."

I am most grateful to Professor Trott for this contribution to "SEEDS SCATTERED AND SOWN: Studies in the History of Canadian Anglicanism".

From Peterborough International Film Festival, Januaray 24, 2009

CLUB NATIVE was one of many excellent films shown at "ReFRAME, the Peterborough International Film Festival" last Saturday. Filmmaker Tracy Deer tells the story of her people at the Kahnawake Reserve where the "very firm but unspoken rules" of the community not to marry a white person, and not to have a child with a white person profoundly affect the lives of Tracy, her family and friends. The stories of the young women is shown with honesty and sensitivity, helping us to understand some of the difficult decisions facing Aboriginal young people.

I was also reminded of about 30 years ago, when I attended one of the "Living History" conferences presented by Dean Jacobs, then director of NIN.DA.WAAB.JIG Heritage Centre at Walpole Island, now Bkejwanong First Nation. At one workshop led by an Elder whose family name was Thomas, I believe, but I'm not sure of his first name (he was then in his nineties, and very highly respected among his people, I know). The Elder spoke of how parents and grandparents should be sure their children and grandchildren marry "Indians" (the word used then). An Aboriginal grandmother responded tearfully. "I love my grandchildren," she said. "I wouldn't want to have to give them up." I'm sure the Elder heard the same pain in her voice and words that I heard, but he was quietly but firmly adamant - we (the Aboriginal people) should make sure that our children marry within our race, because, even then, I'm sure he could see what was happening, and how his people, the Anishnabe Council of the Three Fires, were in danger of disappearing eventually, and he didn't want that to happen.

I could understand, with pain in my heart for both the Elder and the grandmother, where each of them was coming from, and I could understand the good reasons for inter-marriage not to happen, but I also thought of how we cannot always legislate affairs of the heart. Young people of different races do meet and fall in love, and that love between two people can indeed be strong enough to raise children who can be a great blessing - to families, to the community, and to the nations of the world.

One of the young women in Tracy Deer's film is Waneek Horn-Miller, daughter of Kahentinetha Horn, current reporter (former editor) of Mohawk Nation News whose writings strongly support the sovereigny of the Mohawk Nation (as do I, but not at the expense of throwing out all the other governments in Canada - I would seek equality, and as long as that's denied the Mohawk Nation, we do face a justice issue, I agree).

The film points up most poignantly Waneek's dilemma as she falls in love with a white man, who also loves her. At one point, Waneek says that before she is Mohawk, "I am a human being" - and I think that is the crux of what we all, ultimately, have to come to terms with. What does it mean to see ourselves as human beings, before we identify ourselves according to our nation, our heritage, our skin colour, race, faith position? It is perhaps only as each of us recognizes that in our shared humanity, we are all equal, that we can find the kind of sharing in which each of us helps the other to become the best person I am/you are meant to be.

CLUB NATIVE speaks of the definition of what it means to be a Native person. It is a superb film, and could help many of us to reach a better understanding of what it means to be "different".

I was able to speak with Tracy after the showing and said I noticed there was no mention of residential schools. She rolled her eyes (politely and beautifully!) and said that adds a whole other layer of complexity to the story, so she left that out of this film, but is working on another which will explore that dimension of Aboriginal life.

I am eagerly looking forward to that film, for there is an even greater need for Canadians to hear that story, for that is the point at which we - the non-Indigenous people of this part of Turtle Island - must understand the part we played in trying to shape the "definition of a Native person". This is the story we must hear and comprehend if there is ever to be a new, healthy, harmonious relationship between the Original Peoples, and those of us who have been coming to join them over the past 500 or so years.

Jean Koning.

A Visit with Friends - and the Slavin Site

Peterborough ON - Last evening I was invited to a social at the Gathering Place (Enweying) in the Native Peoples House of Learning, Gzowski College, Trent University, to meet with a group of ten young people and their four adult leaders from N'Amerind Friendship Centre in London, Ontario. They were visiting historic Aboriginal sites in the area and listening to area Ojibwe teachers. There were close to 50 people present, and it was a pleasure to be with the visitors, and our Thursday evening Ojibwe teacher, Liz Osawamick, and some members of the class including Raven, and Josh, one of the drummers.

Some of the London young people attend the Sweetgrass School in London, and some of them come from Saskatchewan, Manitoba, Temagami, and northern Ontario. I met Rachel Hearns, niece of Sam and Patricia Hearns, of London; and Eldon French, who knows the dear people of Chippewa of the Thames First Nation with whom I worked for so many years: Elder Mary Sturgeon, who taught me Ojibwe; Marcie French; Maxine Hendrick; Leona Hendrick; and their families; briinging back for me so many memories of so many years of my life in London, Thedford, and Oldcaste (near Windsor).

Another of the adults in the group was Robin Miller, and her mother, Elizabeth Jacks, and I worked together with Mary Rose Bearfoot Jones and so many others 30 years ago with WCISNIC (Windsor Committee in Support of Native Indian Concerns) during the time of the E.C.Row Expressway burial site issue. After two years, we did not find a burial site, but the effort to lobby the Ontario government on that issue resulted in a change to the Cemeteries Act during the Bill Davis Conservative government era so that when bones are discovered, it is now mandatory for the excavating to halt, and the nearest First Nations Chief and Council must be consulted, before work can continue.

In that regard, imagine my horror to read recently in the Peterborough Examiner, copied from the Orillia Packet & Times, that the city of Orillia is built on an ancient Aboriginal burial site, replete with photos of skulls and leg bones piled up along a fence. Gloria Taylor, curator of the Orillia Museum of Art and History, told Sun Media reporter Colin McKim "the old photograph of 20 aboriginal skulls lined up on a board fence is a grim reminder of a less enlightened time. It was a freak show. It hurts your heart to think that people's remains were treated with such disrespect. How would you feel if that was your grandmother's grave and you saw her head sitting on a board?" The nearby Rama First Nation has been notified, and is currently considering how to proceed with this issue, known to archaeologists as the "Slavin site".

Of special interest to me is the fact that local residents in and around that Slavin site have known of this situation for generations but no one seems to have understood its significance to Aboriginal people. To me, it explains why we have so much educational work to do to help Canadian citizens understand the facts concerning our relationship with the First Peoples.

It tells me that we must begin to build new bridges of respect for the treaties we signed with sovereign nations.

And it convinces me that with Prime Minister Harper's apology for the residential schools and the injustices faced by thousands of children who spent time in them, or who never returned, our responsibility for saying "sorry" has only just begun.

To read the Orillia Packet & Times story, see
scan0001- Orillia Burial Site - p. 1
scan0002 - Orillia Burial Site p. 2
scan0003 - Orillia Burial Site - P. 3
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What does reconciliation mean to you?

"What does reconciliation mean to you?"

Chief Ovide Mercredi, of the Misipawistick Cree Nation, was addressing the Conference on Reconciliation Processes, held last June at Queen's University by its School of Policy Studies and the First Nations Technical Institute (FNTI).

"We've been together for over 500 years and we are just now beginning to talk about reconciliation. When do we stop talking about it and start doing it?" he asked.

Chief Mercredi was challenging his audience to think about the relationship between the First Peoples of Turtle Island, and the rest of us, from the time of first contact when explorers found these shores and entered into trade with sovereign nations who had survived in this territory for thousands of years, who formed alliances and lived side by side in reasonable harmony, through the creation of the colonial governments of Upper and Lower Canada, to the eventual establishment of a country called Canada.

As we became more numerous, we took over more land, forcing the First Peoples to live in territories called reserves, and with their lives managed by legislation called the Indian Act.

The Canadian government treated them as wards of the Crown, and took their children into residential schools where they were subjected to the ultimate in assimilation: removed as young children from their families, forbidden to speak their language or tell their stories, and subject to hunger, physical and sexual abuse, farm labour and household chores, poor food, inadequate clothing and exposure to communicable diseases.

In the mid-1990's, the government set up a Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (RCAP) which produced over 400 recommendations, most of which still have to be considered, and implemented.

In this new century, there has been an Indian Residential Schools Settlement Agreement (IRRSSA) signed among the church entities who ran the schools, the federal government who funded them, the Assembly of First Nations (AFN), and representatives of residential school survivors across the country. A part of that settlement was the creation of a Truth & Reconciliation Commission, which was to begin work this year but ran into problems and fell apart. It now awaits reorganization, with the hope that the work can be resumed soon - before more and more survivors depart this earth without having had the chance to share their stories. And those stories may come also from the people who worked in the schools, and from survivors who remember good times which helped them to live responsibly as adults.

All of this has happened throughout the past 500 years. Reconciliation was possible at any point along the way, but it is only now that we are hearing that word, and in fact, we have been legislated into achieving that.

Some have mentioned the possibility of simply forgetting about all that has gone before, and just beginning to live in the present moment. That may work for some people in their personal lives, but it may not be possible in our corporate life in Canada.

Rather, I think we are being called to go back and do it over. In one of the videos on residential schools produced by Anglican Video, the late Rev. Ernest Willie tells us:

"If I was talking to Jesus today, I would have to say: "Sir, you have to come back and do it over. They didn't get it.'"

And I think that applies to us. We have to do it over - go back to the beginning and try to build right relationships from the time of first contact.

What would have happened if explorers, and then settlers, had come to the shores of Turtle Island, and had begun by listening to the people they found here?

If, instead of presuming that the only message to be listened to was the one they brought, they had realized that the people they met would also have a message to share?

If, as we began to sign treaties, we had listened to the terms of the treaties as the First Peoples understood them?

If, when we realized that Indigenous children needed education, and in fact Chief Shingwauk and other leaders had asked the government to help them educate their children, we had listened to understand exactly what kind of education they wanted their children to have?

If, after all the time, energy and money that went into producing the RCAP report, we had begun to act on its recommendations?

Would we now be in a place of at least working towards reconciliation?

Well, of course, I know we can't go back and re-live 500 years. But we can begin to listen to the stories the First Peoples tell of those years, to begin to comprehend how they saw their part in that relationship. We can begin to try to listen with understanding and compassion.

This is the way I think the Truth & Reconciliation Commission should be guiding us - but of course guidance won't come until they have figured some of that out for themselves.

Meanwhile, there are small groups across the country who are beginning to sit down together to test out this idea of holding truth and reconciliation gatherings within our own commuinities. Groups of Indigenous and non-Indigenous people who are trying to listen to one another - doing the kind of listening that was missed five centuries ago. But that is not easy. It's amazing how many of us need to be listened to - who want to be the first to talk.

So who is to go first? Who, in the circle, will undertake to listen, while someone else begins to speak?

I suggest the one who has been waiting for 500 years to have the chance to speak - and to be listened to - that is the one who should go first. In most circles, that will be the Indigenous person.

After 500 years, it is their turn.


Do we have the time, the courage, the energy, simply to be present and to listen to Aboriginal brothers and sisters?


The future of our relationship within Canada rests on our answer to that question.

A Return Visit to Stoney Point

Last Monday, October 20, 2008, I had a chance to visit Aazhoodena - Aazhoodenaang Enjibaajig - "The People Who Live Over There". My cousin by marriage, Carrie, who lives in Grand Bend, kindly offered to drive me.





It had been five years since I had last been able to visit with Carolyn "Cully" George Bressette, and her brother, Pierre George, so I didn't know what sort of reception I would receive. So many memories came flooding back as we approached the gate. The man on duty said Cully was still living in her house, so he let us in, and there we were - at her door. She invited us in, and I was delighted to be able to have a visit with Cully and her daughter and eight-month old grandson who were visiting also.



Cully showed us all her quilts, and crafts, which were lovely. Carrie got a dreamcatcher for her daughter, Bianca, to take with her to Denmark when she leaves in the new year to study at the University of Copenhagen. I know the Danish folk will be very much interested in Anishnabek crafts. The western European nations have support groups who follow the Anishnabek struggle for justice here in the "new world".





Cully talked about how she would like to have a small store where she could sell her crafts, and I think that would make a lot of sense, but the conditions under which the Stoney Pointers live in their homeland are still, in some ways, quite primitive.





When I first visited Marcia George Simon and her mother, Melva George, (about 15 years ago now), Marcie asked me to try to do something about getting phones hooked up. She was concerned not only about her own mother but also Clifford George and other Elders who were living there. How do you get emergency help for the elderly if there is no phone service?





I talked to the local phone service provider (at that time there was no Bell service) but he said nothing could be done because the Department of Defence (DND) would not release information about where the phone lines were buried on the camp property, so they wouldn't try to lay lines and risk damaging the DND lines. That is why, when Dudley was shot that fateful night, Marcie and her Mom drove to the closest public telephone booth at Northville to try to phone. When she tried to tell the OPP that her people were being shot at, she was told, "contact the OPP" and Marcie replied: "They are the ones doing the shooting." All this while not knowing if her two sons had been shot, and facing the indignity of both her and her mother, afflicted with arthritis, being told to raise their arms and being frisked by the OPP who caught up with them at the phone booth. All of which has been well-documented at the Ipperwash Inquiry, and can be found in the Report released May 31, 2007. http://www.attorneygeneral.jus.gov.on.ca/inquiries/ipperwash/index.html



So, to this day, more than 12 years later, there are no landline phones available at Aashoodena, except one in the guard house - or cellphones, which are expensive to maintain on a limited income.

To return to our visit, Cully's home is comfortable but it needs repairs which are not available under the current situation. One family at Aazhoodena has the ear of the Kettle & Stoney Point First Nation administration which, under INAC legislation, is responsible for caring for the residents there, so folk like Cully are at the mercy of that family's decisions. If they don't like you, you get no help at all.

There is a new chief in the Kettle & Stony Point Band Office. It is hoped that Chief Liz Cloud may bring a different leadership style to her role.

Meanwhile, Cully enjoys her work, and her children and grandchildren are close enough to visit which always brings joy. The people and organizations who supported the Aazhoodenaang Enjibaajig at the time of Dudley's death seem to have disappeared since the Ipperwash Inquiry Report was released last year. That Report was a tremendous help in pointing out the need for new working relationships with police and other public service organizations, but it seems not much has been done to re-establish justice in effective stewardship of the Aazhoodena homeland.

That was the struggle which engaged Pierre George, Dudley's brother who, with Cully, drove the dying man to the Strathroy hospital, only to be seized by the OPP and jailed until the next day,when they learned that their efforts were in vain, and Dudley had died as the result of an OPP sniper's bullets.

Pierre wasn't home, so I will look forward to visiting with him nex time I can travel to Aazhoodena.

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University at 81

September 4, 2004

I wrote this four years ago - I don't think it was ever published. In the end, I spent that year auditing the Ojibwe language class, thanks to the kindness of Professor Edna Manitowabi. It was a wonderful experience for me, and since then I have continued to study the language and to make friends within the urban Aboriginal community in Peterborough, for which I give thanks.

But this is what I was thinking on the day I went to "sign up".

Will I look different?

Today my grandson, Paul, gave me a one-day pre-orientation tour of Trent University, Peterborough where I am admitted as a first-year, part-time student in the Introduction to Ojibway course.

Next week I will be able to join first-year students as they enter orientation week. As Paul and I walked across the campus and through the halls of Otonobee College, I realized I was seeing young people, mostly teenagers newly out of high school. I didn't see anyone in my age group (unlike travelling in tourist areas in September, attending seniors' recreation programs, or worshipping in my parish church where my head blends inconspicuously into the sea of grey).

Over coffee later, I asked my grandson, 19 years old, and returning to Trent for his second year in history: "Will I look different? Will I be seen as being different from everyone else on campus?" He thought for a moment. "Well, Granny, you usually wear clothes not much different from other students, so that helps." I expect he was referring to my billboard T-shirts, which make a number of statements, mostly about Aboriginal justice issues. "So you won't stand out in what you wear."

But will the students see me as an old person in their midst?

Paul thought again. "We are used to seeing 'mature students' - those about 30 years of age - and sometimes a few in my parents' age group". That's about 50 - his mother is my daughter. Maybe I qualify more as a "mature and well-ripened" student?

Only time will tell, of course, but I have suddenly become conscious of the fact that I will be within a large community of people where I, at 81 years of age, will be somewhat different from my peers. Even professors aren't usually in my age group. So another question - how will they receive me?

On that score, I am somewhat reassured, since my years of being accepted among Aboriginal people just for who I am, not what they want me to be, have helped me to believe that I can embark on this new challenge in my life. Moreover, I know that at least within the Ojibway language class, I will simply be accepted as an elder who is still learning - my Anishnabe brothers and sisters will understand that.

So I look forward to the next few months with enthusiasm, not only for what I will learn in a classroom, but also for the new insights I will receive as I pursue my dream.

In that, I am no different from the teenagers who will be passing me on the stairs and in the halls, but also, if I'm lucky, helping me to open heavy doors and to find may way in the labyrinth of academia.

Today is July 5, 2008 - and yes, I was accepted by the students with no questions asked. And it was great fun to meet young Aboriginal people from across the country, with several from Manitoulin Island where I had known their families - mostely grandparents - 40 years ago. There was a sense of coming home, or a circle somehow being completed.

Life is indeed a marvellous journey, and I have been so very fortunate. Gchi miigwech, Gizhe Manidoo.

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TRC is ready to go -

The Truth & Reconciliation Commission (TRC) is ready to go June 1, with Justice Harry LaForme as Head Commissioner, supported by Commissioners Jane Brewin Morley and Claudette Dumont-Smith. I don't know either woman, but if they are not high profile people, that may work to the Commission's advantage. They have impressive backgrounds in law and nursing.

What do we hope to accomplish by holding hearings presided over by these commissioners? http://www.irsr-rqpi.gc.ca/FAQ-eng.asp#TRC-3
56.Q.
What does the TRC hope to achieve?
56.A.
The TRC will contribute to truth, healing and reconciliation. It will be forward looking and results orientated in terms of rebuilding and renewing Aboriginal relationships and the relationship between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Canadians.

Once it is established, the Commission will research and examine the conditions that gave rise to the Indian Residential School legacy. It will be an opportunity for people to tell their stories about a significant part of Canadian history that is still unknown to most Canadians.

We are hopeful that when the average Canadian hears the stories of former students that there will be a different understanding between Aboriginals and non-Aboriginals. This in turn will bring about a broader understanding that will create a different relationship.

57.Q.
What will the TRC do?
57.A.
Over the course of its five year mandate, the TRC will prepare a comprehensive historical record on the policies and operations of the schools, as well as what happened to the First Nations, Métis and Inuit children who attended them, and also what former employees recall from their experiences.

The TRC will complete a report that will include recommendations to the Government of Canada concerning the Indian Residential School system and its legacy. It will be accessible to the Canadian public.

A research centre will be established by the end of the TRC mandate that will be a permanent resource for all Canadians.

The Commission will host seven national events in different regions across Canada to promote awareness and public education about the Indian Residential School system and its impacts.
The TRC will support community events designed by individual communities to meet their unique needs.

The TRC will support a Commemoration Initiative that will provide funding for activities that honour and pay tribute in a permanent and lasting manner to former Indian Residential School students.

Those are national expectations. I am working locally with a small group of people, including Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal, churched and non-churched, men and women, who will attempt to raise awareness among the people in our community (Peterborough ON) of the work of the TRC. We will begin that effort by holding a gathering to which we will invite two or three persons who we hope will be willing to join us in this endeavour. In particular, we will be reaching out to the Anglican, Presbyterian, United Church and Roman Catholic church people in this area. If you would be interested in being one of those people, please contact me.

What we do further may be influenced by what we see happening as the TRC undertakes its work across the country, or by the way in which we relate to one another as time goes on.

The work of the TRC is expected to last for five years, with an interim report to be produced after two years. I believe we shall find this work challenging, and painful, as we re-write Canada's history to reflect our true story - a story of much arrogance and oppression, which resulted in our inability to listen to Canada's Original Peoples with respect and dignity. Nevertheless, there is no other way to be able to bridge the divide which continues to widen between us as we continue to refuse to listen effectively.

May the result be the beginning of a new relationship between the First Peoples and the rest of us - the settler/immigrants who came here from elsewhere - based on equality, dignity and respect.