Is there a better way to make amends to residential school survivors?

ANNE CRAWFORD
Special to Nunatsiaq News

Many of us recently listened to stories from the hearings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission from Igloolik and in Iqaluit, and felt the deep reverberation in the community.

It all seems to have ended before it began, too fast, too little and not enough time to address an abiding injury.

As I listen, it occurs to me that the process, the compensation, the community services offered, and even the forgiveness extracted, are all under the ultimate control of Canada — who is, in this case, the offender and aggressor.

How curious that we accept this. How curious that Canada expects indigenous communities to accept this.

True, the individuals impacted had some representation. There were lawyers representing past students and their families.

But, when you think it through, this representation was framed and defined by lawyers and the legal system — people trained and indoctrinated in the courts, and licensed in and by the offender. And this is the same set of institutions that inflicted the original pain, which passed and enforced the laws that compelled Inuit families to stand by as their children were removed, reprogrammed and regurgitated.

Canadian judges — bless them, but who selects them and trains them? whose thinking are they indoctrinated in? — approved the settlements.

The Canadian Cabinet and Parliament, both institutions with an extremely mediocre track record for protecting the rights of aboriginal peoples, took on the task of defining the scope and extent of the reparations.

Aboriginal organizations were consulted at various points to approve or applaud, but they were never given control over the terms of settlement, nor any real ability to determine the breadth or adequacy of the response. Most certainly that discussion was never held at the community level, nor with the depth and breadth of feeling coming this week from Igloolik.

Canada has been unchallenged in defining what is “adequate.” Government has set the limits on when the counseling and support are enough, when the funds will run out for the commission, when the deadline will be for filing claims, and even determining when the whole dialogue will end.

We are told that the Aboriginal Healing Fund has now “run out” despite obvious and continuing need for healing. Was there ever any provision for language revitalization? How have we addressed cultural renewal or the structuring of an education system that truly serves indigenous communities?

Imagine this: if we let offenders decide where and how they should serve their prison sentences, and when they should end, that would indeed be a unique system, and pretty much parallel to what is happening here.

Instead of complaining about how much this has cost, can we ask “has Canada done everything within its power to repair the damage? Has Canada understood the power it abused and put measures in place to prevent similar events occurring? Have we even asked what should be done to effectively repair the losses imposed in the best possible way?” Maybe not.

Maybe we should sit down and ask ourselves “Why is Canada allowed to say, ‘we are sorry, but we have already decided what we can offer. If we do any more, it will exceed our budgets’?”

Is this fair when the societies offended against have been robbed to the bone and have paid in pain for decades? Would it be fair to ask Canada to give until it hurt just a tiny bit? Could that be done constructively? Could the repairs be implemented over 60 or 70 years, just as the damages were inflicted? What would a true reconciliation process look like? And what would an adequate, prospective, and targeted restitution include?

What if Canada identified all the expenditures it avoided when it transferred its responsibilities for aboriginal education, at charity rates, to church institutions, and then measured what it had spent for children of that same era in southern school systems. What if Canada re-invested the difference with interest appropriate to the years? Would that be fairness?

The true answer lies with those communities who carry the injury, not with those who inflicted it. Start to think this through in your mind.

In all justice, and given the confession from Canada of essentially a planned cultural extinguishment, what is the proper reparation?

Perhaps it is to ensure that there is a truly competent education system in place in the communities? To not stop until there is equal and effective aboriginal access to higher education? To provide full and sustained support to language revitalization? To commit to the resources to heal and address the addictions that continue to plague the generations?

Or maybe everyone will prefer the current plan: give everyone cash payouts, shut off the healing support when the funding has been accessed, and then go back to complaining about the drag that aboriginal communities exert on the economy.

I propose that the following idea be rolled over in the minds of those who care: that a genuine and respectful attempt be made to consider the question of what Inuktitut justice would see as adequate and appropriate.

Most people seem to agree that the apology given was genuine and full, but what has followed has been a return to the path of begrudging handouts and complaining. From an Inuktitut logic, is it possible, with neither more nor less self-interest than the Parliament of Canada exercised, for a patient and deliberative group of wise people to:

• examine the adequacy of the repentance and apology;

• examine the adequacy of the compensation offered in the face of the damage done;

• examine the risk of re-offence and if necessary, prescribe the appropriate restitution.

Let it be a public dialogue, an adjudication and conciliation discussion, conducted in the Inuktitut language and with a process and timing which is sensible to an Inuit understanding of the world.

Canada can be represented in the process by Inuit trained in Inuktitut approaches to justice — there are likely as many or more of these people than there were trained Inuit lawyers involved when Canada was consulting on its process.

(And perhaps, to make matters equal, we should pay these people a huge amount of money, just as the Canadian system permitted the Canadian lawyers to be paid).

Having formed this idea, consider if this discussion could be made a reality. Consider whether holding that dialogue might lead to a better conclusion of this national tragedy than the lingering pain and the hasty remediation that has been given to all of us by fund limits and guidelines we now face.

Are there Inuit organizations or governments out there who would be prepared to sponsor such a discussion? And what would it mean if we failed to even ask these questions?