WARNING: This column contains disturbing details. Dear Mom, I have some strange news to share with you. The Pope is in Canada this month. He visits some indigenous communities in Canada. I’m not sure how I feel about his visit. I think of the words you shared about your time at home school, at St. John’s Indian School. Mary’s in Kenora, Ont. School run by Catholics. How the nun cut your long black hair. It was part of you and your identity. You said “They made me look like a boy”. I saw the tears in your eyes. The memory is still so fresh in your mind even after all these years. Your story, short as it was, still makes me angry. Trying to erase your Indigenous identity. To try to Christianize you. Your words and my own personal school background do not make me look forward to the Pope’s visit. People say don’t get stuck in the past. Let it go. Mom, how can I let go of the past when it shaped my life? Residential schools were a part of my past and your life. Vivian Ketchum, left, and her mother both attended residential schools. In this photo taken in the 1990s, Ketchum was blaring music while her mother covered her ears with tissues. (Submitted by Vivian Ketchum) One of my earliest memories was kissing the rosary you held in your hand. Later in life you become a Christian. You had your Bible and your faith. You shared your religion with your children. I struggled to accept your faith when I had so much anger at the church. Any church. I hated what happened to me at residential school. Physical and emotional abuse. The unwanted touch that made me feel horrible. Even now I am not strong enough to put this experience into words. I wanted what I had missed as a child. I wanted my mom too. The mom I missed so much at homeschool. Years later I became a Christian too. I didn’t participate in the tent meetings you took me to, with people singing loudly, to show me your new church life. But I saw the change in you after you got sober and how your faith helped you. No more scary situations like loud house parties. So I accepted your faith and made it my own. Vivian Ketchum uses both her Bible and a bowl of scribbles when she prays. (Vivian Ketchum) I wanted to keep my place in our Anishinaabe ways. To discover that part of me that was stolen from me in residential school. So I’m smudging. I also pray with my hands. No rosaries. Mine is not of that type of faith. Ribbon skirts, not church dresses. Today, my Bible rests next to my bowl of smudges and indigenous medicines. It is part of my healing journey. Mom, I walk in two worlds with my faith. I’m trying to find my way in these seemingly irreconcilable worlds. I don’t want to get a haircut and lose my identity for my Christianity — if I could use that as a metaphor to express the path I created for myself. Mom, the Pope’s visit brings back old memories for school survivors. Firing them. Awakening those buried wounds. It also creates a gap between those of Christian faith and indigenous spirituality. To forgive or not to forgive. To heal and move on. Reconciliation. To kiss those rosaries. Your words have colored my perspective on the Pope’s visit. Will the words of “I’m sorry” remove that anger? Will the Pope’s words help me forgive the Catholic Church for what happened to you? I still carry that anger inside me. Even with the Bible and my scribbled lifestyle. Pope Francis is pictured with chiefs of the four First Nations of Maskwacis, Alta., before apologizing July 25 for the Roman Catholic Church’s involvement in residential schools. (Nathan Denette/The Canadian Press) People are in a right frenzy with this visit. The Pope is coming to our house, but it won’t be a tea and bannock visit. I remember how you made fresh bannock and tea when friends came over and surprised us. It won’t be that kind of visit. I told you that some of the First Nation communities will be paved even so that the Pope has a smooth ride in the community. I can almost see your eyes rolling in my mind. A lighter side of the story for this Pope’s visit. Mom, when I read this letter to you, it is so full of personal conflicts that exist within me. Faith. Forgiveness. To heal or not to heal. Then I think about your story about your hair cut. The image of a nun with a pair of scissors. The tears in your eyes. These are my last thoughts that come to mind when I think about the Pope’s visit. It’s not enough. It’s not enough. — Danis (daughter) Support is available for anyone affected by their residential school experience or recent reports. A national crisis line for residential schools in India has been set up to provide support to ex-students and those affected. People can access emotional and crisis referral services by calling the 24-hour national crisis line: 1-866-925-4419. Mental health counseling and crisis support is also available 24 hours a day, seven days a week through the Hope for Wellness hotline at 1-855-242-3310 or online chat at www.hopeforwellness.ca. Do you have a compelling personal story that can bring understanding or help others? We want to hear from you. Here is more information on how to submit to us.
