Carrying the spirit and intent of Murray Sinclair's vision forward in Treaty 7 territory

Yahoo

27-01-2025

For nearly three decades, I have immersed myself in archival work to uncover the histories of my People, the Kainai (Blood Tribe) in Treaty 7 territory, in Alberta. What began in childhood as a search for photographs of my ancestors has evolved into a lifelong pursuit of understanding through records and Tribal narratives.
Unlike my peers who had photo albums of their ancestors, I had none. Cameras were rare in Indigenous communities during the 1800s and early 1900s, leaving few family photographs. Instead, I turned to online archives, hoping to find even a single image. This archival work became a means of reconnecting with my ancestors.
During my graduate studies at the University of Alberta, this passion for archival research deepened.
As a research assistant for the Aboriginal Healing through Language and Culture project, I was part of a project that partnered with Roman Catholic Oblate missionaries to view historical records of Indigenous Peoples in the North West, which included my People.
However, ongoing litigation related to the Residential School Settlement class-action suit limited my access. While I was granted permission to view specific materials, many documents remained restricted, and photocopying was often prohibited. This experience highlighted the persistent barriers Indigenous researchers face when reclaiming their histories and underscored the importance of equitable access to archival records.
Growing up, conversations about residential schools were notably absent in my community. My family and fellow Tribal members rarely spoke of their experiences, and my public education glossed over their existence, perpetuating a widely held belief across Canada that residential schools were benevolent and necessary for Indigenous Peoples' 'advancement.'
As the child of a residential school Survivor, I grew up with a profound sense of something unspoken yet deeply impactful in our collective history. Silence reflected the profound harm inflicted by the Canadian government and religious organizations operating these schools, leaving scars not just on individuals but across generations. Despite Survivors' efforts to share their truths, the dominant Canadian narrative continued to portray residential schools as positive contributions to the nation's development.
The Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was pivotal in challenging this false narrative. By documenting Survivor testimonies and exposing the systemic abuses within these institutions, the TRC dismantled the myth of their benevolence. This was more than a historical reckoning; it was a vital step toward acknowledging the truth of Canada's colonial history and its lasting impact on Indigenous Peoples.
Fifteen years ago this June, on the day the 94 Calls to Action were released, Murray Sinclair, former chair of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, stated: 'The Survivors need to know before they leave this Earth that people understand what happened and what the schools did to them.'
Sinclair's words, coupled with one call in particular, ignited within me a deep commitment to create a program of work that would reclaim and document my Blood People's history — stories that had long been excluded from Canada's historical consciousness in favour of a whitewashed, generalized narrative. This commitment responded to Call to Action No. 78 which called upon Canada to commit funding to assist communities to research and produce histories of their own residential school experience and their involvement in truth, healing and reconciliation.
The work I have been engaged in focuses on using archival records and partnering with Blood Tribe Elders, who are residential school Survivors, to together reinterpret these records. Together, we sought to tell our history through our own lens, using our voices to articulate the policies and experiences of the Stolen Children Era — the era covering over a century and a half where the Canadian government used multiple colonial models of schooling to assimilate Indigenous children.
While conducting research in recent years leading up to an exhibit focusing on experiences of the Stolen Children Era, I noticed some improvements in access to archival materials, but significant barriers remain.
Processes for accessing restricted documents vary widely, with some archives lacking clear pathways. Policies around documentation also differ — some allow photography under strict guidelines, while others prohibit duplication, limiting researchers to handwritten notes. These challenges, and others, underscore the ongoing need for systemic efforts to ensure Indigenous communities can reclaim their histories and preserve cultural narratives.
Through my archival work, the intentions behind Canada's residential school system became clear. The education system for Indigenous children sought to create passive, obedient individuals stripped of agency and identity as Indigenous Peoples.
Yet, within these oppressive records, I have found powerful stories of courage, resistance and resilience.
These acts, combined with the wisdom of Elders, reflect the enduring strength of our People. Among the greatest examples of collective resistance and resilience is the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
I deeply admire the Survivors who broke the silence, initiating the class-action lawsuit that led to the TRC. Their bravery, along with the work of TRC leaders, resulted in powerful reports and the transformative Calls to Action. They remind us of the importance of reclaiming our power and affirm that we, as the Indigenous Peoples of this land, are deserving of dignity and justice.
Among those I hold in high regard is the late Sinclair, whose leadership during the TRC was defined by clarity, strength and commitment. He spoke candidly about Canada's colonial policies and charted a clear path forward.
In 1988, he became the first Indigenous judge in Manitoba. And he held those responsible for the operations of the schools accountable. His firm approach to justice and reconciliation inspires me, as an intergenerational Survivor, to confront challenges rooted in colonization with strength and resolve.
As we move forward, let us band together with a shared commitment to treat all people with the dignity and respect they deserve as human beings.
Reconciliation is not a solitary journey but a collective effort — a promise to do better and honour the truths of our shared history.
Together, we must right the wrongs of the past, confronting injustice with courage and compassion. Let us carry the spirit and intent of Sinclair's vision forward, ensuring that the path of reconciliation becomes not just a goal, but a way of living that defines us as a nation.
This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organisation bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Tiffany Dionne Prete, University of Lethbridge
Read more:
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Canada and churches have moral obligations for the reparations of missing and disappeared Indigenous children: Final Report
National Day for Truth & Reconciliation: Universities and schools must acknowledge how colonial education has reproduced anti-Indigenous racism
Tiffany Dionne Prete does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.