Tyndale Chapel Podcast

GEORGE SWEETMAN
This morning it gives me great pleasure to welcome to Tyndale University, Shari Russell. Shari was born into the Yellow Quill First Nation and she and two of her siblings were removed from their home, on the reserve, during the "60s Scoop". Shari reni, reunited with her family in 2002 and became actively involved in Indigenous ministries in 2004. She is the Salvation Army's territorial Indigenous ministries consultant, and has served as the chair of the board of Indigenous pathways. She is currently on the faculty of NAIITS, an Indigenous learning community, and we're so glad Shari that you're here with us today. Please come.

SHARI RUSSELL
I'm gonna ask, actually, if you guys can stand up and maybe come a little closer. For those of you that might know anything about residential schools, just the building itself, the structure, can be a bit of a obstacle for some to overcome. And as I came into Tyndale, it's a beautiful chapel, but it's a, it's a big space. And so I'd like it to be a little more intimate time, as we gather together. So I appreciate you venturing and coming forward. I know, it's scary in these front rows. Actually, early on, I think in one of my classes, I learned that if you sit in the first one or two rows, the speaker usually speaks right over you. And so they don't notice you. I'm going to try to avoid that today. And I'll look at some friendly faces in the front row as well.

To begin, I'd like to say “speaking in an Indigenous language”. As I speak my language, as I'm relearning my language, it's important for me to speak and my elders have taught me that when we speak our language, it not only connects us to the land, but to our ancestors. And they're cheering us on, as Hebrews 11 says, they're cheering us on. And they have fought a good fight through the generations. And as I think of them, I also think of the elders that have spoken into my life. And so I want to be thankful for them and their inputs. And as I share this morning, I've made a bunch of notes, I may or may not look at them at all, which is okay. Today, I want to do a little bit more of what our elders call "heart speak". And "head speak" is usually rehearsed and written down. Sometimes it can be at arm's length. But this morning, I'd like to speak heart speak, which is often not rehearsed. It's kind of "in the moment" as we engage with one another. So I'm going to leave a little time, I hope, for some questions and answers in this, but as I introduce myself, I'm gonna say it in English. And as I say it in English, it's actually going to be backwards to what I said, which is just a learning point, because often our worldviews have come in conflict with each other. And even in our language, it's interesting to see how sometimes things are backwards. So in English, we would say my name is, or in our tradition, we would say, I am called, I am called Shari, in English. My traditional name, or I'm called, by my elders, and my family, “speaking in an Indigenous language”, which means raspberry woman. I was raspberry girl when I was younger, but now I've grown up a little bit, I just haven't grown higher, taller. But raspberry woman, which connects me to the land, even in my name, and it connects me to the season in which I was born. It also connects me to, I'm, I'm raspberry girl, or raspberry woman. There's also a counterpart, so there, if there was a, a male that was born in that same season as well, he would have been connected as well, to raspberry man, or boy. And so I have a counterpart, even in community, to remind me that not only am I connected to land, and to those that have gone on before me, but I'm also connected in relationship to my brother, who's not really my brother, but he's my brother because we're connected in name. I am, my mother was from Kiniston. And normally, we would follow our mother's line and be registered there. But because of the Indian Act, which is very patriarchal and self imposed, and I could go on and on about the Indian Act, I was registered at my dad's reserve, which is Yellow Quill. And I've chosen to stay there for numerous reasons. One being when I teach, I get to say that the Indian Act still impacts us today.

And so, I'm registered at yellow Quill, and my boys are registered at yellow Quill, as well. And we are Anishinaabe, which is what we refer in our language as to, to people to the two legged, Anishinaabe. And if you notice, in the land acknowledgement, the Anishinaabe are here as well. And sometimes people struggle with this concept, but our people had land here and all the way to, believe it or not, Saskatchewan, which is where we are now. And so when we think of traditional lands, we would have all these lands, and different communities, that would be in different areas of the region, but our languages and our relationship spans a great territory. And so I'm originally, I was born in Saskatchewan, which is part of treaty four. And if you look at our history, our chiefs actually signed treaty one, which is in Winnipeg. And so how did our chiefs get from treaty one territory, to treaty four. Long story short, there was a little bit of a squirmish, a little bit of resistance going on in the Winnipeg area after treaty one. Treaty one was not being respected or honoured, and things were not going well. And so our chiefs actually moved our people north to Saskatchewan and made a treaty to live among the Cree. And so we have Anishinaabe, or what the French refer to us as Saulteaux. And so we are in Saskatchewan as well. And so just to give a little bit of that context, there's a quote, and this is a quote that has impacted me through years. And I just want to share today it says, "It would be so much easier just to fold our hands, and not to make this fight. To say I, one person, can do nothing. I grow afraid only when I see people thinking and acting like this. We all know the story of the man who sat beside the trail, too long. And then it grew over. And he could never find his way again. We can never forget what has happened. But we cannot go back. Nor can we just sit beside the trail." And that was by Chief Poundmaker, who lived probably when the residential school system had started, and began to see some of those impacts. When I was asked to come and share about National Day of Truth and Reconciliation, that quote came to my mind, probably because all too often I've heard comments made, "It's in the past. Why can't we can't change the past? Why can't we as indigenous people," it's often said, "why can't they just get over it?" And "Are we always supposed to feel guilty about this?" So when the TRC, now does everybody know what I mean when I say TRC? Good we’re all… because I've said it before and people don't know. It's the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. So TRC. So when the TRC started in 2008, they held seven national events. And this was an opportunity for all Canadians to come and to hear firsthand stories from survivors, to listen to the truth, to learn what happened in the schools. To begin to hear what it might take to embark on reconciliation. Now I'm going to ask a question I, I might be surprised. But how many of you attended a TRC national event? Not one. That was an opportunity.

Now, our elders are so gracious. I love our elders, because they saw not all Canadians are coming. And so they didn't get discouraged. They didn't get defeated. But they continued that fight, to say, Okay, we need to do more, we need more education, we need more opportunities. And so they keep calling us back to that. And they say, you know, this is another opportunity for us to learn. Sadly, most Canadians thought that the TRC events were not for them. They thought it was just for indigenous people. And it was time for us to heal. And although it was important, in that journey for survivors, to tell their stories, that's an important part of the healing journey. It actually was much more expansive than that. But that attitude, that perspective, kind of reflects, sometimes, what people think reconciliation is about. Sometimes when they hear the word reconciliation, it's for Indigenous people. And I will say reconciliation, there's usually two parties in this. Right? So reconciliation isn't about Indigenous people reconciling with the past, or what has happened to, to us. But reconciliation, if I use that word, and I'm actually, as I'm getting to understand it a lot more, I'm a little more hesitant to use that word. But because our elders used it, for this day, I will use it. But when it comes to reconciliation, it's all of us. When treaties were made, when newcomers came to the Can, to Canada, we didn't, we made treaties with you. And the treaties are a sign of "We're going to live together and share this land." How are we going to do it in a respectful way? How are we going to do it in a good way that honours both? How are we going to do it in a way, where I look out for your best interests, and you look out for my best interests. And so when we think of treaties, that's kind of what they're about, from an Indigenous perspective. It's not about land acquisition. But it's about relationship. And so our elders keep calling us back to those treaties, saying, you know, we made a treaty with you, and we want to honour those treaties. We want to learn what it looks like to live together on this land in a respectful way, in a way that honours one another, in a way that brings life and health, vitality, wholeness, to all people. And so that's what I think of when I think of this day coming up.

Just a little bit about me, you mentioned that I'm part of the 60s Scoop. How many have heard of the 60s Scoop? Oh, good, good, more than the first question. So 60s Scoop happened, kind of the tail end of as some of the residential schools were beginning to close. Now I'm the youngest of 10 children in my mother's, in my family. And my mother only spoke Saulteaux, or Nakawe, as we would say. And as the youngest of 10 children, there were three of us, kind of young ones, still at home. And she thought, you know, we're kind of safe, because we were too young to be taken to school. But she wasn't quite prepared for the child welfare system. And so literally, we were scooped up one day when she went grocery shopping. My older siblings, and I said there were 10 of us, six older siblings, went to Indian residential schools. And I had the privilege of meeting them, and being able to sit and to listen and to hear their stories. And moments I will treasure deeply, now they've, they've gone on, they've journeyed on to the other side, but very significant moments for me to be able to hear their story, but also our family's story.

And my one brother, so if you notice, that's only nine of us. There's six, that went to residential school, three that we're taken, you guys keeping track, there's one brother, that got hid in the bush. He was in between us. And when they started to hear, when families and our community started to hear what was going on at the residential school, they didn't want him to be part of that. He was taken to residential school, and he was one of those guys that kept running away, and so my family hid him in the bush with my grandfather so he wouldn't be taken. Now I share that because people often think residential schools happened way far away. I'm actually not that old. And my sisters weren't that old. They died quite young, compared to other people their age. I would say some of the impacts of what happened at Indian residential schools. And my sisters would talk about all kinds of things, the abuse that went on, the separation from family and from siblings, the separation and the dividing of people so that they were divided into those that have, and the have nots, and how they were treated differently. As a result, I had one sister that was seen as very compliant, and so she was part of the haves. She got a few special privileges. My other sister was not quite as compliant, although much more compliant than I am. And she was part of the have nots, and the experience she went through was absolutely horrific, in many ways, and, and even later in life, she wanted to go back and do school, but as soon as she had to do anything in English, she, it just immobilized her. And so she couldn't do anything. In that, cause she was beaten for speaking her language. She still spoke her language as, a as an adult when I met her. But she was a beautiful seamstress. And so I have pictures of me in my regalia. She made my regalia. So I actually have a purse over here that she's done beading on. So very talented, talented lady, and made the best out of the experience. And they, I, you know, when she was talking about residential school, she said, "You know, one, one good thing came out of it." She goes, "I learned how to walk in two worlds. I learned how to walk in two worlds." I never asked her what all that meant, other than to, to watch her engage with non Indigenous peoples. And she did so with grace, and with humility. And I just kind of stood in awe of her, after everything that she had experienced, to still be able to hand, put out a hand of grace and compassion.

So when it comes to National Reconciliation Day, it is a time, and thank you, George for saying this. It is a time for us to reflect. And then as a nation to lament. We're not very comfortable with laments. Most of us want to figure out what to do and how to fix it. I will say that's probably been the cause of our problems since the very beginning. We want to fix somebody, or change them. There's a beautiful quote, and I'm gonna read it to you. It's probably one of my favourites, and it wasn't written for this context, but I think it speaks very appropriately to this context of National Day for Truth and Reconciliation.

It says, "To forget our sins may be an even greater sin than to commit them. Why? Because what is forgotten cannot be healed, and that which cannot be healed easily becomes the cause of greater evil. We want to forget the pains of our past, our personal, communal, and national traumas, and live as if they did not really happen. But by not remembering them, we allow forgotten memories to become independent forces that can exert a crippling effect on our functioning as human beings. When this happens, we become strangers to ourselves, because we cut down our own history to a pleasant, comfortable size and try to make it conform to our own daydreams. Forgetting the past is like turning our most intimate teacher against us. By refusing to face our painful memories, we miss the opportunity to change our hearts and grow mature in repentance." That was by Henri Nouwen in The Living Reminder, and I think Henri would have been a good friend of Indigenous peoples. But it's a call to us to not forget, to remember, to wrestle through, to lament the national traumas that have occurred on this land, that we call Canada, that is home to Indigenous peoples, and home to you as we've extended that treaty relationship.