Words Are Not Enough

I couldn't sleep last night. I tossed and turned. I don't feel guilty for being the descendent of white immigrants (my family arrived after the settlers took over the land) but I'm tired of being shocked and horrified and frustrated by what we put the Indigenous peoples through, and continue to put them through. Hundreds of years and through generations of abuse and suffering, denigration and dehumanization. I don't get it - how anyone could treat other human beings, let alone children, the way we've treated the Indigenous people. And to call them savages? Their spirituality is beautiful and enviable. Those of us who feel spirit in nature can absolutely relate to Native spirituality.

It's hard to be a member of a church, to be a Christian, and know these atrocities were committed by members of the Catholic, Anglican, United and Presbyterian churches. Here's what radio personality Charles Adler of Vancouver said, "The church's mission was to 'take the Indian' out of the children. It seems they took the Christ out of Christian." 

Do you know the federal government is involved in litigation against the survivors of the residential schools? Likely to deny them all the compensation they deserve. Generations of government-and-church sanctioned trauma and you want to nickel-and-dime them? 

I don't write about this -- I tend to listen and learn, and I don't want to say the wrong thing, I keep my privileged white mouth shut; I also don't know what to DO that will make a difference. I mean, the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women issue -- that's horrific too. But governments and government agencies ignore the truth, ignore the details, and refuse to change. That's the problem. The System simply won't budge. 

And it kept me awake last night. Where is the fairness? Where is the kindness and mercy and justice? 

I don't write about this but on Saturday, the following poem shouted to be written so I did what I do now: I opened a blank document, placed my fingers on the keyboard, and let it flow out of me. When I posted it to my Facebook page, fresh and rough, I encouraged those with more understanding of the issue to correct or suggest changes, but no one did. It was shared 27 times. 

UNDOCUMENTED CHILDREN

(after the discovery of the remains of children

buried in a forgotten grave

at the former residential school in Kamloops, BC)

An Indigenous woman challenged,   

“Imagine finding the bodies of 215 children

buried in the yard at your local elementary school”

and the collective white mind replied, 

“But that wouldn’t happen.”

Exactly. 

We cannot imagine 

We don’t know what it’s like

We are afraid of the truth 

So we deny

we ignore

we mute 

we refuse to let the grief and rage

of those who tell their stories

of abuse and terror and suffering

that are beyond our imaginations

infiltrate our minds

and bleed into our hearts

just as their life bled from them 

In a burial register

the name, age, gender, cause of death, 

dates of death and burial

and the location of burial

are written

on a single line

Those Indigenous children

forcibly – legally – 

removed

from their families

from their homes

from their land and their culture

turned over to the collective white mind

whose job it was to transform them

by any means

into … what, exactly? 

Exactly. 

Even though their spirits resisted

they died or they survived

and they reconciled themselves

to living 

inside the collective white mind

where they were not

worth the ink 

for writing a line in a book

as a record of their existence

where they are not

worth the effort 

of signing on lines  

in recognition of their persistence 

the truth

is not written in ink

but in blood

and dirt

~ by Sara Jewell

 May 29, 2021