There are two large photographic prints displayed near the exit/entrance of the Multiversity Gallery. They are encased within a glass case. Dionne Paul’s “Her First Day of School (2013)” is displayed at the top, with “His First Day of School (2013)” displayed below. Both pieces feature a colour photograph of a child, a girl and a boy respectively in uniform. In the middle of the photographs are different photographs placed on top of the colour photographs. They are black and white photographs that are the torsos and thighs of other children, placed on top of the colour photographs aligned with the respective body parts of the children in the colour photograph.
It is one of the few photography pieces in the space. It is surrounded by glass cases full of various indigenous artifacts. I think the artist meets Robert Houle’s definition of an “artist-warrior”. Dionne Paul is an Emily Carr University graduate, having been trained in a Western formal art school. Her pieces comment on the atrocities of residential schools and how they only occurred one generation ago. Paul makes use of photography to execute this piece, which is a fairly contemporary Western medium in contrast with the surrounding artifacts. This juxtaposition brings to mind Western technology’s impact on indigenous lives. Photography being a Western invention, Paul appropriates the medium to manifest the realities of residential schools. Photography as a medium historically has qualities of realness and a documentary-like nature that can’t be achieved by other mediums. By appropriating this quality, Paul provides a sense of immediacy to the impact and presence of residential schools. This part of indigenous history permeates all indigenous lives. Non-indigenous people and Canada needs to reckon with this part of history and they must be made aware that it still continues to affect the indigenous peoples now. The choice of medium also contests the idea of authentic indigenous art.
The work presumes that the viewer has knowledge of residential schools and the collective trauma that surrounds the institutions. Having grown up in Malaysia, I was not aware of this information until I was educated in an international high school that taught the Ontario syllabus. In some ways, colonial schooling has also impacted my life. Malaysia’s colonial schools were run by the British, who also ran the residential schools. Because of that history, English remains a lingua franca in Malaysia. My mother was educated in a convent school, a product of colonialism. My parents understood that English was far more important than other languages. So I grew up speaking English at the expense of the other languages of my culture. I’ve lost a significant part of my culture because I only understood English. My experience wasn’t as brutal as the residential schools, but it still was a product of colonialism.