Canada – never be daunted in public

Unsettling Experience: encountering the IRS through “Speaking to Memory”

In Unsettling the Settler Within Paulette Regan writes, “Reconnecting reason and emotion – head and heart – is integral to an unsettling pedagogy” (12). For me, walking into the “Speaking to Memory: Images and Voices from St. Michael’s Residential School” exhibit was an unsettling experience. It was unsettling emotionally. It was also a reminder of the importance of including multiple narratives, particularly those that highlight the resilience and agency of Indigenous people, in order to unsettle the colonial legacy and narrative of Canada.

As a history student, I have encountered the stories of the IRS system multiple times. However, the way that the exhibit was set up in the Museum of Anthropology forced me to confront the testimonies of survivors in a new way. Walking through the Great Hall past the totem polls, carvings and other pieces of Indigenous visual culture raised many thoughts and emotions that reminded me of the ways in which IRS sought to destroy the culture of Indigenous groups in Canada. The 1920 quote from Deputy Minister of Indian Affairs Duncan Campbell Scott of the objective of the IRS “to continue until there is not a single Indian in Canada that has not been absorbed into the body politic” was particularly jarring in how it was presented. For me, it was emotional because of having walked through the Great Hall. The vastness of the physical representations of Indigenous culture was in stark contrast with the sparse IRS exhibit. This contrast was continued by the way the quote was displayed on a canvas. The image of the desolate interior of a room at St. Michael’s looking out onto the beauty of nature outside the window highlighted the way in which IRS isolated Indigenous children from their families, culture, and a land that was their home. This image spoke to me about the destruction of identity for individuals and for a society. However, I do question if the exhibit’s presence on a university campus should also raise questions in regards to privilege and accessibility. Who is the exhibit intended for? Will it mostly be seen by academics, university students, and children brought in on field trips? If so, what role does this exhibit play in the process of Truth and Reconciliation? Does it even need to play a role or is it important just that it exists?

I believe this exhibit is important in the ways that it seeks to reframe the testimonies of IRS survivors. The way the exhibit was laid out with Beverly Brown’s images on one side of the room and the quotes from survivor’s testimonies on the other side highlighted the resilience of IRS survivors. For me, this layout significantly worked to return humanity and agency to the children of St. Michael’s. It explored their self-made communities. Many of the images reminded me of photographs that I have seen of my own family, depicting every day life. It reminded me of both individuals and communities. The plaque at the beginning of the photo section stated, “This photo collection is not meant to extol the virtues of St. Mike’s or justify the wrongdoing that have been publically documented. Rather, it pays tribute to the resilience, spirit and strength of these students.” I think it succeeds in doing this and that is important work in ensuring that the testimonies of survivors are not insensitively consumed by audiences hungry for tragedy. Additionally, as a student studying life narratives, I think it’s important to note that this exhibit reveals the ways in which images and language can work together and against each other to share life narratives in a moving way.

The exhibit raised many more questions in regards to truth and reconciliation and the importance of remembrance on a national level. How can we “unsettle the settler,” like Regan suggests is needed? If the opportunity to visit this exhibit is limited and privileged, where can Canadians encounter not only the tragedy and horror in the testimonies of IRS survivors, but also their resilience and strength? Further, what role do the apologies play? Does the framing of apologies by the Christian churches in Canada contribute to or disrupt the act of colonization? By framing the apologies in Christian language are the churches continuing to impose their beliefs on Indigenous cultures, even if their intentions are not to do so? In the government’s apology, the second last in the exhibition, Harper states that “there is no place in Canada for the attitudes that inspired the Indian Residential Schools system to ever prevail again.” I find myself echoing another thought from Regan. She questions: “What would it mean in concrete terms for the settler majority to shoulder the collective burden of the history and legacy of the residential school system” (2). I don’t have an answer. I see the importance of exhibits like “Speaking to Memory”, but I also believe that the audience for this exhibit and those like it must be increased if Canadians are actually to shoulder that burden.

Using the Past: Life Narratives, History, and Identity

In class we discussed how Fred Wah’s bio-text Diamond Grill can be read as creating a counter historical narrative. We examined how he used the historical documents from the Chinese Head Tax and infused it with references to significant historical dates, the work and lives of Chinese immigrants in Canada, and racial slurs in order to interrogate the ways in which a nation’s history is constructed and understood. Wah reveals how history and identity are deeply entwined. This raised the question in me of how other life narratives have challenged the dominant historical narrative and national identity of Canada.

I would argue that history and life narratives work both against each other and with each other to create identities. Dominant historical narratives, particular in regards to nation building, can exclude particular groups or individuals from the national narrative. However, the telling of life narratives from those on the margins can work to subvert the dominant historical narrative. Coming from Winnipeg, the historical figure of Louis Riel and the controversy that has surrounded his role and the role of the Métis people in the formation of Canada exemplifies the ways in which a life narrative, told in a variety of forms and by a variety of authors, can move a marginalized figure, culture, and counter history towards the centre. I examined the commemoration of Louis Riel and identity for a history class last year and I find that study relates to issues surround life narratives. To explain what I mean, I have to go into a little history of how the story of the life and death of Riel has been told. Having officially been executed as a traitor, Louis Riel’s identity within the dominant Canadian historical narrative was initially as a dishonourable rebel, mad with religion. This understanding pushed Métis contributions to Canadian society to margins as well. However, English language works on Louis Riel in the 1950s and 60s began to describe Louis Riel as a hero and called into question how race and culture played a role in how his story had been told. Historically this was also the time in which Canada began to officially adopt a bicultural identity and multiculturalism entered into the political discussion. As his story was retold, his perceived identity within national history began to change. In 1971, after a campaign, an abstract statue of Riel was unveiled on the Manitoba Legislative grounds. Statues, like documentaries, photographs, and tattoos can all be used to tell a life narrative. Statues in particular commemorate a life or an event. They speak to how we use the story of a particular moment to define and identify ourselves as communities. This statue depicted Riel as a nude, tortured, and tormented figure. A cylindrical shell enclosed the statue with an inscription of a quote from Riel that read, “I know that by the grace of God, I am the founder of Manitoba.” The statue’s artist, Etienne Gaboury, stated that he wanted to put “Riel in a cage to bring out the anxiety and to express the conflict of Riel.” However, the Manitoba Métis Federation was outraged. They found the narrative of Riel that the statue created through its image and inscription to be an insult to a national founding father. Over the next twenty-five years controversy abounded. The statue was eventually replaced with a new depiction that told a story of Riel as the Founder of Manitoba and therefore a founding father of Canada. Consequently, Riel’s story and identity required the inclusion of the Métis as active participants in the creation of Canada. It moved a western Canadian and minority story towards the centre. Métis leader Ferdinand Guibouche declared, “He has been a symbol of hope, symbol of anger, symbol of our determination, symbol of our strength.” He became an icon, both for the Métis people and beyond.

In 2003, Toronto cartoonist Chester Brown published the graphic novel Louis Riel: A Comic-Strip Biography. Brown identified his own anti-government perspectives in the story of Riel. In the article, “Corporeal Politics and the Body Politic: the re-presentation of Louis Riel in Canadian identity” Brian S. Osborne calls Riel the “most useable person in the Canadian past.” Brown seems to be confirming this in his work. According to the inside cover of the book, it was featured on “best of the year list” and that Time magazine wrote, “Louis Riel coalesces many of the themes Brown had explored in his earlier works: the relative “truth” of nonfiction, the relationship between madness and religious experience the dubious intentions of authority.” If Time‘s review is accurate, then is Brown really telling Riel’s story or is he telling his own?

Looking at the historical figure of Louis Riel and how his biography has been constructed in history books, biographies, physical representations and commemorations, newsreels, and film shows how life narratives can play a role politically and socially and how this role can change over time. It can point us to how the “truth” of a story or how true accounts of history are dubious at best. Power plays a role in the construction of history. In thinking about the themes, political motives, and social contexts that can exist within and around life narratives, questions of ethics, and truth are also raised. Who has the right to tell the life story of another individual? How does the political motivations of the author affect the way a life narrative is told? Is this problematic if the story being told is of a historical figure whom particular groups have strong ties to? How do physical images influence the stories being told? As we continue to study life narratives, I wonder if we will continue to find the subject and action of telling our stories to be more and more complicated. This blog is already longer than I intended and I feel like I only began to scratch the surface.