The archbishop spoke to the deans about developments in the self-determining Indigenous Church. He explained that healing comes “when we start to walk together in respect, dignity, and understanding, but we need to know each other…. Listening, learning and opening of heart and mind are so important.”

When he visited the parish of St. Margaret’s, Vanier, he preached at both Sunday morning services. His homily for the English congregation was very personal and offered an opportunity for parishioners to get to know more about him. 

He focused on how much God’s love and power working in frail humans in the church and individual lives can do.  “It’s wide enough to reach out and embrace all of our doubts, our denials, and even our rejection,” he said.

He spoke about his own experience of trying to avoid and run away from God’s call earlier in his life. “God is patient, and … God is love because God is willing to send out even the likes of me into the God service. A man who needed to experience much, to do much wrong and to be enabled to speak and preach about it again in a true-life perspective or view. I’ve never, ever claimed to be the wisest or the best at anything and still God called and uses me to proclaim a message of love.” 

Along the way, he said he has learned “to see that it’s not about me, but about what God could do through us, the broken, in the ministry of the church.”

The archbishop said parishioners have ministries and callings that are “equally and maybe even more important…You go out back into your home communities. You … are the ones who talk to others, leaning over the fence and when you say those words, ‘Hey Jim, how are you doing? Oh, really? Okay, well, we’ll think about that, we’ll pray about that. Well, hey, why don’t you come to church with me?’ You see how this works? A minister can’t do that. You can.”

The Inuit congregation of St. Margaret’s welcomed Archbishop Harper with a Inuit song and drumming. The Rev. Canon Aigah Attagusiak translated the archbishop’s words into Inuktitut.

Drummer Ruben Komangapik, translated some of the words in the song into English: “I walk through this world, on this land, I step on a piece of rock, and I turn to you. You’re stomping your feet. I walk through this land. I step on this rock. I turn to you, and you’re understanding. I walk through this land, I step on this rock, now you’re following.”

The archbishop said he was incredibly honoured by the song, and he in turn, played a recording of a song from his own Plains Cree culture. 

“My people are the tall ones with long hair,” he said. “But one thing unites us as people of the land. We love to laugh. We love to smile and sing. And we understand what community is all about….We are one in the Creator’s love…We are blessed to know the land intimately, so much so we can be called people of the land.”

Then, he spoke of shared pain. “Our shared history with the church has been a complicated and broken relationship. For my people of the plains, we have been known as the people with the hair, and when they put our people into the schools, the residential schools, they cut our hair to remind us we are not connected to the land anymore. The symbols we use, whether it be a drum, or the songs we have as a people, the dances, the ceremonies, and even our own traditional food, [we] were told it was wrong.”

And the archbishop spoke of new hope: “But the church, much the same as the song, dear brother, learns that it walks on a new land in a new way, where I stepped on a rock, and I look back, and now you follow. Now they have a chance to open their hearts, their minds, and their eyes and to see the songs, the ceremonies we offer back, which builds the church as it should be, where we sing together and we celebrate together in our languages, in our way of song.”

He shared a story of how much this change in the church and the new self-determining Indigenous church means to him. “When I was in school to study to be a priest, one of my best friends was going to be ordained as a priest. I went to his service, and for the first time I smelled the prayers of the land. I saw a feather of prayer being held up, and I heard a drum song of honour being sung. I cried … because I did not think I would ever live long enough to see that in a church. I cried because I rejoiced, because the church was open enough to listen, to see, and to feel and know our people….

“All of us together. Know there are no limits now. The door has opened in the church to all of us. I see amazing preachers. I hear amazing songs in our languages. And I hear beautiful, beautiful hearts in what we offer together by lifting it up in prayer.” 

— with files from Jane Waterston

Related story: Archbishop Chris Harper meets with All My Relations Circle

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Kichi Zībī means great river and is the Algonquin name for what would later be called the Ottawa River.

Mīkan is an Algonquin word meaning road or path, and it is the name many Algonquin groups called for and that Dumont said would be appropriate when he spoke to the crowd at the march on the parkway last year.

“Changing the name of the parkway was the right thing to do,” Dumont told Crosstalk. “To me, the parkway is as a trail running parallel to the Kichi Zibi. No other name is more suitable. Long live the Kichi Zibi Mikan!”

The name of the road was changed from the Ottawa River Parkway to the Sir John. A. Macdonald Parkway in 2012. Macdonald was the first prime minister of Canada and his government was largely responsible for creating the system of residential schools for Indigenous children.

Dumont is Algonquin advisor to Bishop Shane Parker of the Anglican Diocese of Ottawa, who also spoke at last year’s march, and commented this year that “Our march together helped to produce the right result.”

— LA Williams

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University of Ottawa Chancellor Claudette Commanda put out a call for participants in the Indigenous Memory Mural walk on Saturday’s NTR ceremony on Parliament Hill. It was an emotional experience to say the least, seeing First Nations people look for names they knew, often in tears. The atmosphere in the moment was one of great respect and reflection. As we left the stage, we were able to look back at the remaining mural and realize how incredibly long it was! We were honoured to be able to help carry the weight (physical, emotional and spiritual) of the mural.

We are both settlers, though arriving here at very different times in history. Our public school education told us nothing of the Indigenous cultures that had been injured as a result of the forming of the nation of Canada. We learned that from friends and volunteer organizations. By then, we both had a number of learned prejudices to overcome.

My parents emigrated from Europe when I was four after the Second World War. Our education in Quebec did not address any of the First Nations issues we have today, rather the culture promoted racism between English, French, Protestants, Catholics and “Indians.” Subsequently my university days never introduced us to any of this. We learned of that “great” Canadian poet, Duncan Campbell Scott but never heard about his desire to get rid of the Indian problem [as the Deputy Superintendent General of Indian Affairs in the 1920s].

I am thankful that my children were able roam about St. Thomas Anglican Church in their childhood: accepted, loved and encouraged. Our grandchildren do the same in the Parish of the Valley. As we walked this mural with all the names on it up the stage on Truth and Reconciliation Day in Ottawa, we could only wonder what life would have been like had we been taken from our homes, stripped of our identity, forced to learn a new language or never come home again. We are humbled by the thought and acknowledge that our placement in life is a gift given to us, not something we earn. We hope to be sensitive caretakers of what has been freely given to us.

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Speaking on behalf of the Mississippi Mills All My Relations Group, John Coderre told the more than 200 people gathered that the circle of seven stones and animal carvings represents “the work of a creative team that included both Indigenous and non-Indigenous people working together— true model of what truth and reconciliation can be,” he said. “The installation is a reminder that although Mississippi Mills is only 200 years old, the Algonquin have used this land and that waterway for thousands of years. The Seven Gifts is not only a great work of art, but it provides a sacred space in our community and a continuing opportunity for everyone to learn and seek healing with one another and with the land.”

Seven large stones donated by the Tatlock Quarry are arranged in a circle in Almonte’s Riverfront Park. Artist Deborah Arnold was commissioned to carve the stones and provide a place on each for a spirit animal carving. Algonquin artist Nish Nabie was commissioned to carve seven spirit animals. The eagle represents love; the beaver, wisdom; the turtle, truth; the buffalo, respect; the wolf, humility; the raven, honesty; and the bear, bravery. His carvings were then cast in wax by Darlene McLeod and then into bronze by Almonte sculptor Dale Dunning.

Together, the stones and animals, “celebrate the Seven Teachings brought to a child from the Seven Grandfathers of the Algonquin Anishinaabeg,” a sign at the circle explains, encouraging visitors to “Come, with hearts open and full of child-like wonder” and contemplate the meaning of each gift.

Anglicans were key supporters of the project. The Anglican Diocese of Ottawa provided a grant of $10,000 through its All My Relations Circle, and the Anglican Foundation of Canada provided another grant of $15,000.

Sue Evans, co-chair of the Mississippi Mills All My Relations group, offered a land acknowledgment that also acknowledged injustices in local history as Mississippi Mills marks its bicentennial year. “For the past several hundred years, we, as a society, have been oblivious to the harm our people have caused to both your people and to this land. Two hundred years ago, not long after the War of 1812, with your people’s help, we were able to prevent the takeover of this land by the Americans. Then we moved into this territory, forgetful of your tremendous contribution, and took it over to make it our own. We pushed you either onto a reserve, or if you chose not to go, deeper into the woods to try to survive however you could,” she said. “We know from the graves we’ve discovered on a hill in Pakenham that many of you died from diseases we had brought with us from our homeland. We confess that we have destroyed the original trust that once existed between us. We seek then to do what we can to grow in our understanding of these truths, to revise the history we tell ourselves, and to renew friendships with you if you are willing.”

Nish Nabie sang an Algonquin song at the ceremony, and he spoke about his mother’s suffering as a survivor of residential school and losing him as an infant in the Sixties Scoop when many Indigenous children were taken away from their families. Nabie spent 20 years as a First Nations police officer and only began carving after he was injured on the job and had to stop working as an officer. He thanked the Mississippi Mills All My Relations Group for recognizing him as an artist.

He thanked his wife Lona for her encouragement as he worked on the carvings. “I had to give it everything I have, all my soul, my spirit, in those carvings, so that when you go and look at that, you would know that my carvings come from love. I’m very honoured that they’ll be here,” he said. “It’s so important that we all understand what those those animals, those totems are all about. Reconciliation. Reconciliation stands for so much for us as human beings.”

Nabie remarked on his surprise that during the process of creating the installation, he became friends with the Rev. Jonathon Kouri. Priests had always been a reminder of his mother’s suffering in a residential school, and Kouri is the Incumbent at St. Paul’s Anglican Church in Almonte. He is also a member of the Mississippi Mills All My Relations Group and shared this reflection with those gathered:

“In 1993,… Archbishop Michael Peers, who was the leader of the entire National Church of Canada, offered a public apology for the church’s role in the residential school system….When the apology was given, there was a recognition that the apology was just a beginning. It was something that needed to be lived into because anyone can get up and offer words, but those words need to be backed up with concrete actions. For 30 years now, the Anglican Church … has been living into that apology in various ways. Archbishop Peers passed away this past summer, but the work that he inaugurated through that apology carries on. It carries on here in Almonte.”

Kouri added, “This is but one step on the wider journey of healing and reconciliation…. The Seven Gifts’ opening doesn’t mean we can be complacent and sit down and forget about this, because the injustices that Indigenous people have faced are ongoing…. It’s incumbent upon all of us to stand together with our Indigenous brothers and sisters and to work for a better future for all people.”

He also read a letter from Bishop Shane Parker:

“The land you stand upon is ancient, and the first voices to speak on this land were those of Algonquin Anishinaabe people. An important part of reconciliation is to hear and respect the wisdom that creator gave to those who first spoke on this land. A wisdom that continued to flow through generations of Algonquin Anishinaabe, despite egregious attempts by non-Indigenous people to erase them. The Seven Gifts provides a place to lift up the ancient wisdom Creator gave to the first human beings who lived on this land. And it is a place to strive for right relationships between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people, so that we can celebrate our common humanity as creatures made in the image of our Creator. We are made from love, and we are made to love. I offer warm congratulations to your community for bringing this sacred place into being.”

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The opening of walk represented the culmination of many people’s efforts, including from the parish of St. Mary Magdalene, which donated land where the trail crosses the church grounds. The Rev. Canon Kevin Flynn welcomed all those gathered.

Chief Gilbert Whiteduck of Kitigan Zibi invited everyone to walk the trail reflecting on what they, as individuals, can do to make a difference, to contribute the journey of reconciliation.

Whiteduck said he reflected on the importance of the Gatineau River as he drove to Chelsea from Kitigan Zibi that morning. This region, where the three rivers —Gatineau, Rideau and Ottawa— meet has been home to the Algonquin people for millennia. Whiteduck, who is the first Indigenous president of the Gatineau Valley Historical Society, referred to artifacts recently found near Lac Philippe that have been dated at 10,000 years old.

The crowd then followed Whiteduck for a walk on the trail, which offers views of the Gatineau hills as it winds its way through a recently developed residential neighbourhood of Chelsea.

Many members of the diocesan All My Relations Circle mingled with other Anglicans, Unitarians and Chelsea residents who also came out for the event.

Marian McGrath, one of the key organizers and a member of St. Mary Magdalene parish, expressed her gratitude for a Healing and Reconciliation Fund grant, which allowed them to pay drummer Rene Racine. “He was terrific,” she said.

Whiteduck thanked those who walked. “When I see all of you taking your time on this Saturday to come out…my heart is overflowing…. You give me hope,” he said. “The Reverend rightly mentioned, [that we] cannot speak about reconciliation until you know the truth, the truth of this territory on which you live. As I was walking by, Rene and I were looking at those beautiful houses, and we were saying, “How come in our communities many of our families are living in houses that are falling apart? How come many don’t have potable water or good water? How come? What’s going on here? That gap is so large. Does anybody care? You care. You’re here for that.”

He compared work toward reconciliation to putting grains of sand on a path. “That pathway is a pathway of hope and change and reconciliation… We can’t go there with a truck. We have to bring our own grain of sand…. It’s not going to happen in our lifetime, but… I believe within two generations, we’re going to be a lot closer to it.”

All My Relations Circle member and St Thomas the Apostle parishioner Kathryn Fournier (Cree) reflected on his words. “Chief Whiteduck talked about how important it is for people, ordinary people, and not just politicians, to create change, even in small ways, in our own lives,” she said. “That is what will lead to right relations.”

Derwyn Sangster, also from St Thomas the Apostle, said, “I saw Chief Whiteduck’s point that we should be grateful to the land as an important fundamental belief – I think an Indigenous one — that is often overlooked by our society. The land, the Chief noted, provides everything we need to exist.”

Clockwise from top left: Walkers gather on the grounds of St. Mary Magdalene after exploring the trail; Marian McGrath and Chief Gilbert Whiteduck; AMR members McGrath, Marni Crossley, Debbie Grisdale and Gwynneth Evans with the sign for the trail; and Margaret Lemaire, Indigenous advisor to the bishop.

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She explains that the Métis associations have had to make these distinctions as a part of their efforts to have their rights and land recognized, as First Nations have done. “Ontario only recognizes Métis who are from settlement areas, the same for Alberta,” she explains. “The previous Métis Association of Labrador has changed their name to the Federation of Southern Inuit, so I have to reclassify.” But the official terms don’t change the identity of Lawrence and many others of mixed ancestry. The first person of mixed heritage was probably born nine months after the arrival of Europeans, she said in an Interview with Crosstalk this summer. “It’s just that the period of contact is so large. It’s over 450 years, whereas in BC it’s only 150 years, so it’s a lot easier out west to define.”

Lawrence’s father was born in Scotland, “which is a strange place for me to be claiming Indigenous ancestry from,” she acknowledges, “but my grandfather and my great-grandfather were born in Labrador.” Her grandfather worked for the Hudson’s Bay Company. In those times, men often married or had relationships with Indigenous women, sometimes known as “country wives,” while still maintaining marriages and families in England… “But in typical Hudson Bay fashion, they only record the names of men who lived in the community. They keep no records for women and children,” Lawrence said. “So, it’s really tricky for me to try to do family trees from Labrador, but that’s where my Indigenous ancestry comes from.” She added that she has found records online of Swaffields (her maiden name} in Fogo Island in 1783, so that would be an earlier ancestor,” she explained.

In her role as an advisor to the bishop, Lawrence said she is most comfortable representing the needs of urban Indigenous people…. “Because I spent quite a long period of my life working on nothing but Indigenous policy and policy-related concerns, I’m very familiar with what are the needs of Indigenous people. And even though I’m no longer in those roles, I read the papers in detail on what’s happening and look up the articles.”

Now retired, Lawrence has had a rich and diverse career, which began as a teacher. “I went to Macdonald College for my teacher’s certificate, and taught in Noranda, Que. and Shefferville in Northern Quebec for a few years…. Half my class were Cree children brought down from James Bay and the other half were town children,” she said. Lawrence did not attend or teach in any residential schools.

She completed her bachelor’s degree at McGill University and then moved to to Calgary, where she did her master’s degree in sociology with a thesis on criminal rehabilitation. and then moved to Edmonton and worked for government and hospitals. When her parents had health problems, she moved back to Ottawa and became a director of educational services at the Civic Hospital.

Lawrence completed her MBA at the University of Ottawa in 1997 and went on to work as a senior health advisor with the Congress of Aboriginal Peoples (for Donnacona Inc.); as an Indigenous liaison co-ordinator with the Ontario government; director at the Nova Scotia Community College’s School of Health and Human Services; and executive director of the Indigenous Nurses Association of Canada. She also served as a chaplain for the Carlington Community Chaplaincy. In addition to these roles, she was also a caregiver for her husband who has since passed away as well as her son Darryl Socha, who passed away in 2016.

Because her father was in the military, Lawrence grew up with frequent moves to different parts of Canada. Her father was “a great believer in propinquity,” she said, so they attended whatever church was closest to them. “At the time of confirmation, the nearest church was an Anglican church, so I became an Anglican and have loved it ever since.”

She has been a member of the diocesan All My Relations Circle AMR) since it was created and has served as its co-chair for the past two years. Over the years, she said she has seen Anglicans’ understanding of Indigenous issues grow. “I’ve done a lot of presentations in different churches because I’ve been with AMR and it’s always responded to well,” she said, adding that in recent years more people self-identify as Indigenous.

“When the Doctrine of Discovery was declared null by the current Pope, I announced that in church and everybody applauded it. And I thought to myself, ‘I bet five or 10 years earlier, they wouldn’t even have known what that was about, so I detect big differences.”

Lawrence said she sees tremendous change in broader Canadian society as well. “There’s a lot of pride in being Indigenous now and a lot of concern, [with people] saying, ‘Now we have identified the issues, let’s start working together to resolve them, which is very important.”

Looking ahead to what Anglicans in the diocese can do to further reconciliation work, Lawrence suggested “doing a deeper dive into the issues and really identifying more of what they can do to work in partnership, either with an Indigenous community, or on continuing and deepening the understanding of the impact on Indigenous people, not just in Canada, but the whole effects of colonization throughout the world.”

Lawrence will be facilitating two sessions of PWRDF’s Mapping the Ground We Stand On” exercises with Karen Luyendyk at Julian of Norwich on Sept. 23. Please see our calendar on page 16 for details.

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Thanking the many volunteers and donors who made the gathering possible, organizer Jenny  Šâwanohk Sutherland described the group’s original vision. 

“When we initially thought of this ceremony, we wanted it to be equivalent to Remembrance Day and the honouring of veterans. We’re here to honour and remember all of these children who we lost to the war against Indigenous people in the land.  And so we wanted to do our version of a moment of silence, but we are decolonializing it, and we’re using our drums and the sacred heartbeat that we share with each other and with our beautiful mother earth.”

Throughout the gathering, care and respect were shown to survivors of residential schools. The day included presentations of 40 eagle feathers.  

Algonquin Elder Claudette Commanda of Kitigan Zibi Anishinabeg First Nation welcomed everyone:

“Today is a day to honour, to remember all those children, our relatives who did not make it home, who continue to lie in those unmarked graves,” she said. “But it is also a day that we show them love. …

“It is a day to honour survivors. It’s a day to remember. It’s a day to reflect,” she said. “It is a day for you Canadians to listen, to learn, to understand, to have it in your heart and in your spirit to feel the beauty of Indigenous people, the strength and resilience of survivors, but to learn history…so take that truth, reflect on it and know that reconciliation is not only about Sept. 30, reconciliation is about learning about the impacts of colonization, the trauma of residential schools, day schools, child welfare system, murdered and missing Indigenous women, the loss of land and natural resources. 

“It also a time to remember that the First Peoples of this land … have been here since time immemorial, and we will continue to be here. And we have shared it with you, and we will continue to share. So, reflect on the truths, learn from the past, walk together in peace, understanding and healing, walk together on this journey called reconciliation. And the challenge I give each and every one of you is that every day is Sept. 30.”

Condoled Bear Clan Mother Louise McDonald Hearne of the Mohawk Nation Council. said,“It’s a painful day but we can take our pain and turn it into power for the future because I was thinking, ‘What will this look like in 10 years?” she said, adding that she was glad to see so many non-Indigenous people who were open to learning.

Struck by the power of their messages, the Rev. Canon Gary van der Meer, who was attending with some parishioners from St. John the Evangelist in Ottawa, told Crosstalk “the future of Canada is Indigenous women orators.”

Autumn Pelletier, who came to national and international attention as a young Indigenous girl speaking out about the need to protect water and ensure that Indigenous people have access to clean water, was the featured speaker. 

“The impact of the residential school system will forever be in our memory. The impact of Indigeous oppression will forever be in our memory. The impact of systemic racism of our people will also forever be in our memory….For many years, I have been considered to be the water protector or the water warrior, all starting at 8 years old, seeing post it notes in a washroom saying “Boil water advisory, do not use the water.” I couldn’t believe even at a young age that children knew that to be normal. … It shouldn’t be normal…”

Now that Pelletier is 18 and attending college in Ottawa, the issue of missing and murdered Indigenous women has become all too real and close for her. “Just two weeks ago, a young Inuk girl from my college in Ottawa was murdered…for no reason. I fear any time I walk anywhere. The feeling is so unnerving,” she said. “The message surrounding missing and murdered Indigenous women is too often not national news. Systemic racism is left to be talked about on Facebook. This cannot continue as we continue to step forward and work towards real reconciliation…I never planned to spend my life doing this, but I am committed, and I want our people to have access to clean water. I would love collaboration and more actions taken toward these inequalities.“

The Indigenous Arts Collective of Canada collaborated with the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation, which hosted a second event at LeBreton Flats in the afternoon. 

One of the elements of that ceremony was the unfurling of a 50-metre long banner listing the names of thousands of children whose deaths at residential schools across the country were recorded. There are still more to be found. 

And survivor Dennis Saddleman read his poem ‘Monster’ about his experience in a residential school. 

Šâwanohk Sutherland told Crosstalk that she was grateful that there could be a Sacred Fire at LeBreton Flats this year. Earlier in the day, survivors were given gift bags with tissues in them. Šâwanohk Sutherland said this should be an emotional day. She encouraged the survivors to take tissues that had dried their tears to the Sacred Fire. “ I think that is a very sacred way to honour the emotion and the needed release of this grief that we have been carrying for so long….”

Kimberly Johnson-Breen was at Parliament Hill with the Rev. Canon Gary van der Meer and other parishioners from St. John the Evangelist, Ottawa. She is of Cherokee heritage and moved to Ottawa from the U.S. Since joining the parish of St. John the Evangelist, she has begun offering a smudge before most services and sometimes drums.

Johnson-Breen said she was deeply moved seeing the red banner with the children’s names.

“It really brought home the genocide,” she said. She also heard Indigenous poet and residential school survivor Dennis Saddleman read his poem ‘Monster.’ “I had read that poem before, but it was so impactful hearing it from the author and seeing that there was forgiveness from Indigenous people too. …You can’t separate truth from reconciliation. There can be no reconciliation without coming to the truth of what happened.

Johnson-Breen said she was deeply moved by the afternoon’s ceremony and appreciated volunteers bringing a smudge to her.  “I was grateful to have someone there who recognized and understood that it was painful so that I could smudge. It was emotional for me, but it also had an element of hope.”

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