14-06-2025
- General
- Winnipeg Free Press
Hope and healing
'How do you begin to forgive the unforgivable?'
This is the enduring question of Cree, Salish and Métis writer and poet Chyana Marie Sage in her memoir Soft As Bones, and a question that plagues many in Prairie cities across Canada. Through the weaponization of residential schools, the child welfare system, the Sixties Scoop and unfulfilled treaties, Canada has inflicted harm on Indigenous Peoples for centuries that snakes through generations.
In Soft as Bones, Sage speaks of her deep pain caused by Canada and inflicted on her family. Growing up in Edmonton in public housing, she recounts the horrors of having to turn her father in for sexually abusing her older sister for years. This resulted in the cutting off of family ties, skirting from house to house and school to school, and ultimately bearing the brunt of generations of trauma through alcohol and drug abuse and a constant desire to fill a void with dangerous behaviour.
Ana Noelle photo
For Chyana Marie Sage, the power of the matriarch was and is critical, as her sense of trust, particularly for men, had been eaten away.
Part tome of Indigenous teachings, part scrapbook of poems and certainly a deep dive into the emptiness that many youth feel, Soft as Bones also provides pathways for healing the self and a people. Despite the revulsion for her father, Frank, who did unthinkable things, Sage gains an understanding, through her healing, that violence and sickness can be traced back through the reach of memory.
As Sage posits, 'I think of the way the schools and the scoops took all my relatives away, and scattered them, and not just physically but mentally, spiritually, and emotionally too.' She speaks openly and honestly about her life and her path to healing, and eloquently and magically weaves in traditional teachings of the drum, water and the animals to not only shed light on her metamorphosis, but on the transformation of her family and her people.
A constant thread in the healing is the power of women, the matriarchy — when Sage felt safest, it was with Indigenous women. When she felt healing, it was with Indigenous women. At the centre of her core was her mother, who endured violence, and her sisters. And there were always elders present to teach, guide and love.
This is what good teachers do. They guide with love. For Chyana Marie Sage, the power of the matriarch was and is critical, as her sense of trust, particularly for men, had been eaten away. 'My trust was eviscerated on such a fundamental, intrinsic level during my most formative years, and that has affected most of my relationships ever since. I have struggled to trust anyone who got close to me,' she writes.
What is most captivating for this reviewer is the role school played in Sage's life. As she jumped from school to school, she and her sisters were forced to navigate new peers, protect themselves and endure the systemic racism inherent in our colonial systems.
At age 15, Sage is expelled from high school for possession of weed. She describes having to appear in front of the school board: 'So I was expelled from the only place that was giving me any sense of routine. Across the table sat Ms. Long, the vice-principal who loathed me, staring at me with a smug smile on her pinched face.' Children understand very quickly when they are not loved, and too often schools send powerful signals that kids are not wanted.
Weekly
A weekly look at what's happening in Winnipeg's arts and entertainment scene.
On the other hand, a former principal, Mr. Skoreyko, had her back. When she returned to the school that expelled her from Grade 12, where Skoreyko was principal, there were no questions asked. He showed her kindness throughout her teens, and this made the difference for her. When children are pulled closer and not pushed out of the community, they begin to trust and thrive. 'Mr. Skoreyko was someone I could actually count on,' Sage writes. All young people need multiple Mr. Skoreykos — particularly those who are most vulnerable.
Soft as Bones
Despite the odds, Sage sought her undergraduate degree at the University of Alberta before heading to Columbia University to further develop her writing at grad school. As she explains, and bears witness to, 'Writing is catharsis and it is the most powerful tool I have to use on my healing journey.'
The writing of Soft as Bones, and the interviews she performs with her family, are stepping stones along this journey. There is no arrival point, just the notion of getting better. As Sage writes: 'There is no such thing as healed — there is only movement along the spectrum of unawareness to awareness.'
Soft as Bones is essential reading for all who work in systems on this land, in this territory. It is a call to action and sheds an enormous spotlight on the voids created by historic violence and racism, and the formidable elixir that is land, language, culture and community.
Matt Henderson is superintendent of the Winnipeg School Division.