In visiting the MOA this week, I learned a lot more about the residential schools then I previously knew. Growing up in Vancouver, I did study the history of residential schools in high school, however, I was very unaware of many aspects it. Visiting the Belkin last term opened my eyes a lot, to the extreme horror and devastation that these poor children had to go through on a daily basis. The abuse; physically, mentally, and sexually so horrific, its amazing that children were able to endure it for so long. The Belkin showed abuse through art which I very much enjoyed. The visual representations of the pain and sorrow the children experienced really opened my eyes to how horrific the schools were.

The MOA showed a the history of the residential school, St. Michaels. One particular wall was filled with confessions of those who attended the school as a child. Many spoke of abuse and always being hungry. However, a few particular confessions stuck out to me. A couple of the confessions on the wall spoke positively about their experience at St. Michaels. A direct opposite to the majority of the confessions, the positive ones said they were unaware of any abuse, or that they enjoyed their time at the school, being able to learn to read and write. It is very curious to see the differing memories of the school, in particular, the fact that most of the positive confessions were signed “anonymous”. The constant speak of negativity against the school makes one wonder how a positive experience could have been possible. However, in reading Angels article, I better understand how it is possible for differing memories to help those victims cope with their experiences.

I was also very curious to see the varying churches apologies toward the victims. The different styles and language used was very intriguing. It makes me curious to know what church ran what school, to better understand the abuse that was allowed. I went to Catholic school, so the idea that these horrors could have occurred under the churches knowledge is upsetting. I think it is amazing that those survivors of the residential schools, and all those effected, can be so strong today.

In reading “Diamond Grill” my eyes have been opened to a lot of the discrimination that occurred in Canada throughout the twentieth century. Ethnic groups such as the Chinese and Japanese went through some tremendous events to fight for their right to Canadian citizenship. Reading about the Fred Wah’s experience of going through the discrimination of being part Chinese led me to think about my family’s own story of discrimination.

The “troubles” began in Northern Ireland in the 1960’s. The Nationalists of Ireland, who were mainly Catholic were in conflict with the Loyalists, who were mainly protestant. The protestants of Northern Ireland wanted to remain part of the United Kingdom, where the Catholics wanted to be separated from the British ruling and intern create a united Ireland. The troubles lasted almost 30 years with the IRA, or Irish Republican Army, fighting against the British.

The majority of Northern Ireland was protestant, and therefore the catholic minority faced much discrimination. My Grandpa, a devote Catholic, was never content with sitting and watching as his people were continually mistreated and discriminated in their own country by the British. So, my Grandpa, the most prideful man I know, did what he had to do to fight for his home. My Grandpa, a member of the IRA fought the British to take back his country. The IRA were a group nationalists that used guerilla warfare to fight against the British and try to take back the land that was rightfully theirs.

My Grandpa was given the job of being the intelligence behind the missions, and intern stayed out of the actual fighting. The IRA took part in major weapons smuggling, car bombings, kidnappings, and other cringe-worthy activities. Although many frown upon what the IRA did, it was apparent to them at the time that it was the only way to be able to take back their home.

As the fighting escalated in the early 1970s, it was clear to my Grandpa that it was time to take his family out of the conflict. My Grandpa moved to Vancouver in 1972, with his wife, and four kids, following behind him a year later. My Dad, born in 1966 in Belfast, frequently tells me stories of what happened “back home” during the turmoil.

Being discriminated upon in your own country, because of you’re religion, is incredibly sad and disheartening. The “troubles” in Northern Ireland remind me a lot about the Chinese Head tax, and Japanese Internment Camps, and all lead me to question the judgements that people make about others based on race, sex, and religion.