Open to Change
Reading is an act of vulnerability. We don’t know how stories might change us. We don’t know what might happen.
Reading is an act of vulnerability. We don’t know how stories might change us. We don’t know what might happen.
Eight denominations signed a joint statement in March expressing their commitment “to implement the principles, norms, and standards of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples as the framework for reconciliation.”
Until we feel enough shame to make us feel vulnerable, I’m not sure we can move ahead. But moving ahead is where we need to aim.
The sound of the drums and the songs rang out as 10,000 people turned the corner to Ottawa City Hall. This Walk for Reconciliation marked the beginning of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s closing events.
As I sat there watching people coming in to register, I began to feel myself being pulled into my past. I felt like I was back at the residential school being dropped off as a young child. A strange place. Strange people. Strange language. I started shaking.
Just as soldiers who went to fight did not hear of the Holocaust until after they returned, so we who were raised in Canada were never taught the story of residential schools.
Nothing prepared me for the experience of sitting through the testimony of survivors of residential schools. I winced and I wept. It moved our church’s 1994 apology from my head to my heart.
I began each day of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission event by visiting the sacred fire. I’d sit on a dew-covered bleacher, fingers wrapped tightly […]