FULL CIRCLE FULL CIRCLE the aboriginal healing WAYNE foundation & the K SPEAR unfinished work of hope, healing & reconciliation AHF WAYNE K SPEAR i full circle FULL CIRCLE the aboriginal healing foundation & the unfinished work of hope, healing & reconciliation WAYNE K SPEAR AHF 2014 © 2014 Aboriginal Healing Foundation Published by Aboriginal Healing Foundation Aboriginal Healing Foundation 275 Slater Street, Suite 900, Ottawa, ON, K1P 5H9 Phone: (613) 237-4441 / Fax: (613) 237-4442 Website: www.ahf.ca Art Direction and Design Alex Hass & Glen Lowry Design & Production Glen Lowry for the Aboriginal Healing Foundation Printed by Metropolitan Printing, Vancouver BC ISBN 978-1-77215-003-2 English book ISBN 978-1-77215-004-9 Electronic book Unauthorized use of the name “Aboriginal Healing Foundation” and of the Foundation’s logo is prohibited. Non-commercial reproduction of this docu- ment is, however, encouraged. This project was funded by the Aboriginal Healing Foundation but the views expressed in this report are the personal views of the author(s). contents vi acknowledgments xi a preface by Phil Fontaine 1 introduction 7 chapter one the creation of the aboriginal healing foundation 69 chapter two the healing begins 123 chapter three long-term visions & short-term politics 173 chapter four Canada closes the chapter 239 chapter five an approaching storm by Kateri Akiwenzie-Damm 281 chapter six coming full circle 287 notes 303 appendices 319 index acknowledgments “Writing a book,” said George Orwell, “is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout with some painful illness.” In the writing of this book, the usual drudgery was offset by the pleasure of interviewing a good many interesting, thoughtful and extraordinary people. I am grateful to them for their generous offering of their time and attention. It is no exaggeration to say that without the wealth of material they provided, this book would not have been possible. The twelve years I spent at the Aboriginal Healing Foundation were among my most challenging and rewarding. I am grateful to Georges Erasmus, with whom I enjoyed an especially productive collaboration. Whether they know it or not, everyone who ever worked at the Aboriginal Healing Foundation was the beneficiary of his calm, competent and principled leadership. The ahf Board of Directors were, to an individual, among the most professional and inspirational people with whom I’ve had the good fortune of working. Here I must mention my friend viii Garnet Angeconeb, a residential school survivor who exemplifies resilience, and a giant among men. The large-hearted Maggie Hodgson was characteristically generous: as anyone who knows her will attest, she is the rare and invaluable person who’ll tell you what you need to hear, in direct terms, no matter the inconvenience. Mike DeGagné was my boss but also, at the end of my days at the Foundation, a friend. I valued his generous leadership and his keen sense of humour. He expected the best of his staff and made every effort to support and further them in their professional endeavours, not only while at the Aboriginal Healing Foundation but in their years beyond. This book would not have been written without Mike’s support. I wish I could name every colleague from whose acquaintance I’ve benefitted, but that would be a book in itself. I miss my colleague Gail Valaskakis, and the thought that she’ll never read this book sores me. Linda Côté, our Corporate Secretary, was the very model of professional competence, and she kept the ahf running smoothly. It’s astonishing to me how many talented folks flowed through the Foundation, proving that aboriginal people can indeed run effective and efficient organizations. Or even, as in the case of the ahf, create them. The careful and trained eye of Flora Kallies caught more errors in this book of mine than I’d like to admit. A good reader is every writer’s secret weapon, but I’ll make no secret of the fact that this is a better book on account of her diligence. Somewhere around 2010, I asked Kateri Akiwenzie-Damm to research and write what became Chapter 5 (An Approaching Storm). In 2013, she contributed an additional section, on the Legacy of Hope Foundation. Kateri, a well-known and respected author, worked ix closely with me and with the ahf board on these sections. I edited her contributions for the purpose of tonal and stylistic consistency. I still regard them however as her work, and I hope my changes were sensitive enough that she still regards them this way too. I was hired in 1999 by my first boss at the ahf, Kanatiio Gabriel. A man of great principle and compassion, Kanatiio created the Communications department which I would lead after 2006. To him I am much indebted, for his example of personal integrity and for my lucky inheritance of a shop he had put on solid ground. I’m mindful of the fact that my parents have supported my writing from the very beginning, and that this support is the foundation of my accomplishments. So much in one’s life is a matter of mere fortune, and I’ve been lucky to have had loving parents who provided me every advantage necessary to a good and happy life. I had no interest in applying for the Communications Officer posting when my partner brought to my attention the Globe and Mail advertisement in the Summer of 1999. I did it merely to appease her. I’d worked for years in aboriginal organizations, and the last thing I wanted was more of the nepotism and dysfunction that I had come to regard as inevitable. The Aboriginal Healing Foundation changed my thinking, and it changed my life. I thank my partner Nicole for setting in motion one of the most amazing rides of my life. – wks a preface * by Phil Fontaine I was the Manitoba Vice-Chief at the Assembly of First Nations in 1990 when I first spoke publicly about the physical and sexual abuses I experienced in the Fort Alexander Indian Residential School, in Manitoba. This was, needless to say, an incredibly sensitive and private matter, not something that one talks about easily. I’d been preparing myself for months to talk about the residential schools, which I did at a gathering of Assembly of First Nations Chiefs in Whitehorse. I told my audience on that day it was time for a conversation about residential schools to begin, and that until we had this discussion our people would be unable to deal effectively with the many issues facing our communities, from poverty and addiction to treaties and self-government. The phrase “residential school syndrome” had been around as early as the 1980s, yet the residential school was still a taboo subject in the early 90s. My hope was that by coming forward with my story, I would make it easier for others to do the same, and that by breaking through the walls of fear and shame which imprisoned us we could all begin a healing process. Also important was to record for posterity the collective experiences of our people, so that there would be understanding not only of what had happened but of its effects on former students, their families and communities. This remained an important goal * Assembly of First Nations National Chief, 1997–2000 and 2003–2009 xii preface when it came time to establish the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada. Before I spoke in public, I had conversations with church officials to determine if there was any willingness on their part to begin a disclosure process. These discussions convinced me that the time to deal with this terrible history had arrived. What I did not anticipate, however, was that this matter would so quickly become so public. It’s true I had spoken openly to the Chiefs, but I hadn’t expected the journalists in attendance to turn this into national headline news. As strange as it may seem today, I was taken completely by surprise. It would be fifteen years from this first public disclosure in Whitehorse to the Prime Minister’s very public apology on the floor of the House of Commons in Ottawa. In many respects, the Indian Residential School System dominated my work during this entire time. As early as 1990, those of us committed to addressing the residential school abuses were clear about what had to happen: we called for a public inquiry, stressing that a healing process had to be an integral part of this work. Furthermore, we didn’t want our memories to disappear and urged that the testimonies of survivors should become part of Canada’s historical record. I feel now, as I did then, that all Canadians should know this history and have some understanding of what it means to indigenous people. The Indian Residential Schools Settlement Agreement is an accomplishment of survivors. It simply wouldn’t have happened without their courage and unyielding commitment. Survivors came forward by the hundreds with their stories, determined to make certain that the truth about the residential schools was known and that the injustices they suffered as children were xiii by phil fontaine addressed. I am very honoured to have been able to serve them as National Chief, from roughly the time that the Aboriginal Healing Foundation was first established in 1998 to the time of the Prime Minister’s apology in 2008. The ahf was very important, and its work was essential to addressing the legacy of the century- long residential school system. It was furthermore an honour to have been involved in the creation of the Common Experience Payment and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada.