Her kohkom was called Mary Greyeyes. But at the Native residential school where she was forcibly taken at the age of 6, she didn’t even have a name. She was just a number. Number 25.
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Each school year, the screaming child who had become a number was stripped of everything she was. They took her away from her family, stripped her naked, threw her in kerosene under the pretext of eliminating her lice. She was forbidden to speak her language, the only one she knew. And it was on for ten months of abuse and neglect which many children did not survive.
For a long time, Mary Greyeyes remained silent on this subject. Until the day when the report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples was unveiled, recalls his granddaughter Manon Tremblay, senior director of Aboriginal departments at Concordia University.
She sees the scene again. In the living room of his kohkom, the TV was on. On the news, there was talk of the staggering proportion of Aboriginal victims of sexual assault, unveiled by the commission.
For the first time in her life, at the age of 83, her grandmother, a survivor of the residential school system, dared to open a drawer that she kept tightly closed. No, she had not been assaulted, she dropped. “But that’s just because I was too ugly and the priests weren’t interested in me…”
Had she witnessed abuse? asked her granddaughter. “Yes, constantly. My own brothers and sisters were victims. »
On September 30, Orange Shirt Day for Aboriginal people, named National Day of Truth and Reconciliation by the federal government, Manon Tremblay is thinking of her late grandmother, her family and all Aboriginal people. who survived (or not) the ordeal of residential schools. She thinks of the aftermath of more than 150 years of racist assimilation policies.
At one time, the mortality rate at St. Michael’s residential school in Duck Lake, Saskatchewan, where his grandmother was sent, was 50%. Children there were almost guaranteed to catch tuberculosis. “The nuns and priests who ran these schools didn’t necessarily send the children for treatment. »
PHOTO PROVIDED BY MANON TREMBLAY
Mary Greyeyes, pictured number 25, was forcibly taken to St. Michael’s Indian Residential School in Duck Lake, Saskatchewan when she was 6 years old.
Robert, Mary Greyeyes’ little brother, was no exception. Although she managed to alert his parents on the sly in the hope that he could be treated in time, it was too late. He died on the way home. He was only 8 years old.
Other parents were not informed of the death of their child until they came to pick him up from boarding school in June. What number ? Ah! Sorry… There are no more children at this number. He died a few months ago. It is unclear where he was buried. Somewhere around the school. Without a cross, without a tombstone, without anything…
For Manon Tremblay and all those for whom this tragedy is associated with names, faces and painful silences, the discovery of the bodies of children buried on the site of former residential schools last year came as no surprise. . But for the others, there was an awakening of conscience. “Even though we’ve been talking about residential schools for quite a long time, our experiences, I think they were still abstract stories. But when you start finding bodies, it becomes very real to people. It shocked the country. »
Manon Tremblay, who grew up in Montreal, learned the Cree language late in life. “My grandmother and everyone who went to residential school was taught that our languages were the languages of the devil. Those of an inferior people, of inferior brains. It took away their cultural and linguistic pride. To protect future generations, they did not pass on their language. »
Her grandparents always said they couldn’t remember. But as a teenager, after hearing his grandparents speak their language with their loved ones on their 50e wedding anniversary, young Manon saw that it was wrong. She asked to learn it. His grandparents did what they could. Then, at the age of 20, she went to live in immersion for two years in her community, in Saskatchewan. She also took courses at the university to properly reclaim her language. “And it was through this experience that my grandparents began to open up a little more about their culture and their experience. »
And now what? Instead of an investigation into residential schools, Manon Tremblay would rather see action taken. “I would like to see resources released to help those who suffer from intergenerational trauma. To improve the social services offered to Aboriginal people. To ensure that there are good awareness programs, especially in the health and social services sector. »
PHOTO ALAIN ROBERGE, LA PRESSE ARCHIVES
A hundred pairs of children’s shoes were left in front of the Kahnawake church forecourt last year in tribute to the bodies of children found buried anonymously on the grounds of several residential schools for Aboriginals in the 20th century.e century.
For now, it’s not very strong, she said, referring to the mandatory training on indigenous realities, put in place by the Legault government on the death of Joyce Echaquan. A formation denounced as “colonialist”, “harmful” and “dated” 1.
Situations like what was experienced by Joyce are not about to be resolved.
Manon Tremblay
With a Prime Minister who refuses to admit the very existence of systemic racism, he is still far from the road to truth and reconciliation, she notes. But you will have to find it.
“We must not let the past dictate our future. But you should never forget. You have to be very aware of where you come from and move forward. »