I did not like the Church when I was first asked to join the Healing and Reconciliation Committee in the late 1990s.
At the time I was working at Winnipeg Inner City Missions with executive director Rev. Margaret Mullin. Working in various roles as youth worker, board member, etc., I had learned to trust Rev. Margaret like I rarely trust anybody else. Trust in people doesn’t come easy for me. So when she asked me to join the Healing and Reconciliation Committee, I agreed based on the trust that I had in her.
The committee was an initiative of the Presbyterian Church to build better relationships between the church and aboriginal people. It was going to do this by participating in sharing circles across Canada.
Joining the committee couldn’t have come at a worse time for me. I was just starting the legal process for my residential school claim against the church. I was seeing a counsellor to help with the emotional challenges. My emotions regarding the church were very raw and coming to the surface. I viewed the church in a negative light during the early stages.
This is where faith stepped in and created a change in me—new eyes and a new heart to see my church neighbours in a new light. The sharing circles were very difficult for everybody that was participating or sharing. I can’t share what was said in the circles as the stories are considered sacred. After the sharing circles were completed, the committee did a wrap-up and debriefing. It was a way of connecting with each other after such an emotional process. One member of the committee broke down in tears and he shared how he was deeply affected by hearing what was said in the circles. He couldn’t go any further and asked to leave the committee.
I was affected by this member’s emotions and tears. He was broken by the shared stories of the residential school survivors. It never occurred to me that a church member could be hurt emotionally by our stories. I was no longer thinking of my own pain, but my church neighbour’s pain. It was never my intention to cause someone pain, but to teach others about our history. I saw my church neighbours through different eyes and a new heart that day; now I could honestly call them my friends, my brothers and sisters.
The legal hearing for my residential school claim arrived and I asked one of my church neighbours to sit in as the church witness. I hold Rev. Ian Morrison in high regard and was honoured that he agreed to my request. This was a difficult part of my claim. I had a Miss Beasley doll to hold in my arms as a grounding tool. As a child, my parents bought me the same type of doll and it held positive memories. I held the doll in my arms as the lawyers brought up my painful stories.
It was a grueling session; reliving my experience in residential school. After nearly 45 minutes, a lawyer asked if I had any anger issues. I looked him straight in the eye and said, “No, I don’t. If I did, I would have hit you a long time ago.” There was dead silence in the room for a minute, then the lawyer turned around and said he had no more questions for me.
These moments have been part of my faith walk. Trust in the right people can create positive change. There may be tears shed in the healing process, but healthy tears can be a teaching moment if we let them be so.
