09-30-21 Truth and Reconciliation
Today is the first official National Day for Truth and Reconciliation in Canada. Most of us were working at the GroundFloor as we are not federally regulated. It is not an official statutory holiday in BC. The space itself was shut down so I am glad my clients that showed up were able to text to be let in. There was a big part of me that didn’t want to work at all, that wanted to go to the walks, to sit in contemplation of all the wrongs those before me and those currently are forcing upon our First Nation Peoples. I needed to meet my obligations and I feel that a good part of my day was spent in contemplation. I sat in the memory of my friend in Bella Bella. She has since passed away but I learned so much from her about the atrocities of Residential School. She was a part of the ‘60s scoop and her stories of her early life, she usually tried to keep light. There came a time though when payments were being made to survivors and I knew that the amount was based on how many things happened and of what variety. Her payment was large and it was at that point that I realized how truly horrific her early life had been. She told me, now well into her 50s, that she still slept with the lights on as she and her husband were both afraid of the things that happened in the dark. I cried hearing her stories. I had no idea, I had not been taught the significance. I think along the way I related the schools to orphanages, that only good was happening. I should have been taught the truth. Now I must reconcile my upbringing with the atrocities thrust upon these families in the same era I was growing up in. There is nothing I can do, but listen. There is nothing I can do, but acknowledge. There is nothing I can do, but ensure it never happens again. I will always honour my friends by recognizing the terrible wrongs done to them, the systemic racism, the generational damage and the need to be heard, accepted and loved.
It is so odd to face my own privilege. I am Caucasian. I grew up in a very multicultural area. My Dr was a black man. I had no idea that was a rarity. My Dad’s company employees were first generation Canadians from India. I had no idea that was something special or different, we all just socialized together and I loved the delicious food and exotic clothing. My closest friends were Japanese, Chinese, Indian and European. I had no idea how blessed I was. I think I may have grown into my racism as I moved into a very white world of Theatre school, born again Christianity and ultimately, Small Town BC. I make no good excuse for forgetting my roots. I know ultimately that I love regardless of colour but I see it. It is still different from me. I will continue to celebrate that and hope I do no harm. I will continue to ensure others do no harm as well.
This is a ramble of a blog but there is just so much to unravel. After work I had something to eat and went to Shield Women where I struggled to breathe. I worry it was because I ate too late so I will be more careful next week. I bought my own gloves and signed up for a month.
My task when I got home was to strip the bathroom in anticipation of ripping out the shower tomorrow morning with Scott and finally getting on with the renovation!
It doesn’t help that I feel judged every time I open my cupboard
triumphgal 