Octrober 27, 2022
Today is a venting day, triggered by a conversation with friends. I expressed my view that when the residential school system for indigenous people started in Canada in the late 19th century; it was the accepted philosophy to assimilate indigenous people into the Canadian way of life. And the residential school system was going to do that.
Adolphus Ryerson, a respected educator, and head of the school system in Ontario in the late 19th century, designed the residential school system. Who was going to challenge him? And the U.S. and Australia were doing the same; trying to assimilate their natives via residential schooling.
Current opinion holds that the Canadian government was cruel in “kidnapping” children from their homes against the wishes of their parents and relocating them into “residential schools” to teach them Canada’s official languages and provide them with education to enter Canadian society. Some people believe now it was cultural genocide.
My friends argued we were cruel to the natives and that we owe them huge reparations for the injustice that we did to them. The “we” included me sitting at the table. That was the trigger point. I said I have never done a thing against Canadian natives, including first nations, the Inuit, and Metis, and I, personally, owe them nothing.
I have never worked in a residential school as a teacher or staff. I have never lived up north where many reserves are. I have never had commercial or other transactions with any of these schools. I have never known anyone who worked at these schools.
I arrived in Canada when I was sixteen years old with absolutely no knowledge of the indigenous people here. My knowledge of them, that I had, came from reading the German author, Karl May’s books popular in Europe, in which he wrote detailed adventure stories of the young chief, Winnetou, and his white friend, “Old Shatterhand”. Although May had never visited North America, he had done meticulous research on the Apache’s life and wrote vivid stories of their wars against the “pale-faced” whites taking over their land.
My impressions of North American natives were formed by May’s glowing descriptions of the courage and leadership of Winnetou. (May sold over 200,000,000 books, translated into thirty languages, and is the most prolific German author).
I was in my thirties when I met indigenous people for the first time. I discovered the poor and often drunk natives on the streets of Saskatoon, Regina, and Winnipeg. That discovery did not jive at all with my impressions of the proud natives I gleaned from May’s books.
Then I worked for the federal Indian Affairs Department, where I visited reserves and met and worked with indigenous people.
I learned why the situation of indigenous people is dire: many live in remote locations with harsh climates in small bands of not more than a few hundred people; they do not speak Canada’s official languages and there are few employment opportunities. But the incentive to leave the reserves is low since they find comfort in living in their communities, speaking their language, living together with their families, and following their traditional lifestyle.
andrasthehun.ca 