Those who don't learn from history

The first thing that struck me when I read about the horrifying discovery of the bodies of 215 Indigenous children at the site of a former residential school in Kamloops, BC was how much the building looked like those on the campus where I teach in west-end Toronto:

The Kamloops "school" above - really, a prison and genocidal torture chamber elaborately disguised as a school - operated from 1890 until 1978. 

The Humber buildings, known as "cottages" (again, how quaint), were originally part of the Lakeshore Psychiatric Hospital, which opened as the Mimico Insane Asylum in - wait for it - 1894: 

It's probably not a coincidence that these two sites of such medieval horror bore such a strong resemblance to each other. One could argue that architecture and design are products of their time, which would be a reasonable position. It would also be irrelevant.

The faceless brick facades hid from sight the very worst our country was capable of doing to people. 

I'm a product of, and strong, vocal advocate for, Ontario's public education system. And yet, I never learned about residential schools at all until my kids came home to tell us about them. I mean, I kind of knew in the back of my mind that these places existed. None of my teachers ever mentioned them, to the best of my recollection, and certainty not in any kind of detail.

The last residential school in Canada closed in 1996, the year my elder daughter was born. What happened in these places from hell is a blight on our country, and puts the lie to our kinder, gentler self-image.

Now we face the performative spectacle of non-Indigenous municipalities lowering their flags to half-mast to honour the victims. I won't even characterize that as a good start, because it's not enough. According to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, over the span of a century and a half, some 150,000 Indigenous children were ripped from their families, stripped of their heritage, culture and language, and routinely physically and sexually assaulted. That means the discovery in Kamloops is likely not the last time we'll hear a story like this.

A 2003 study from the Canadian Incidence Study of Reported Child Abuse and Neglect found Indigenous children were vastly overrepresented in both the child welfare system and among those who had suffered abuse in the system. Another study the same year found that there were three times as many Indigenous children in care as there had ever been in the residential school system. These numbers are comparable to those for the percentage of the US Black population that's imprisoned.

What happened in these places can't be forgiven, nor should it be. We, all of us collectively, own this history. It's incumbent upon all of us to recognize it for what it is - not just a dark stain on our deluded self-image as the world's peacekeeping middle child; it's a reflection of just how ugly and violent we can really be. We can comfort ourselves that we don't do it with guns, the way our American cousins do. The victims are just as dead.

You'll notice that I'm not blaming the church or the government or anyone else for this flaw in our souls. Fault-finding is neither helpful nor productive. As much as we may refuse to admit it, our institutions are not apart from us; they reflect who we are and what we value - and don't value.

How do we deal with it, then? How do we begin to come to terms with this wretched, blood-soaked part of us?

Education is part of the answer, and I would suggest it's a big part. Like other institutions, our educational system reflects what we consider important. From early childhood to post-secondary, it should teach these lessons in compassionate, age-appropriate ways. Teach it in history, geography, language classes, civics classes, world religions, wherever it fits. I teach in a public policy program; I am planning to make the topic of residential schools the focus of my course next fall.

If we infuse our educational system with this knowledge, it will spread over time. That means it may take a generation or two before values change. Perhaps that's too slow for some. Here's the thing: the problem of residential schools didn't happen overnight. It developed over 150 years. We can take the time to do this right.

Update: According to this Facebook post, the Indian Residential School Survivors' Emergency Crisis line is now operating 24-7. It can be reached at 1-800-721-0066 or 1-866-925-4419.