Why I Challenge the St. Regis Tribe and the MCA

By Doug George-Kanentiio

On May 28 the New York Times reported the possible location of the graves of 215 Native children at the former Kamloops Residential School in British Columbia. The investigation into the fate of those victims of the former Catholic institution was compelled not by the Canadian federal government or the province but by those who had survived the harsh, at times fatal, treatment by those who were entrusted with the care of the boys and girls, most of whom were forcibly removed from their respective homes.

As a survivor of the Mohawk Institute, the “mush hole”, one of the most notorious of schools, I can attest to the abuse, the violence, the near starvation experiences by my brothers, our friends and the rest of the inmates. I use that term with affirmation given that the conditions under which we lived were no different than those of reforms schools and minimum security prisons. We were subjected to all of the most extreme controls brought to bear upon Canadian convicts and even given numbers in place of our names. Mine was number 73 and was signed on every garment I was issued. I am surprised it was not tattooed on our left arms, as was the case for the human beings taken to the concentration camps scattered throughout Europe before and during WWII.

On the grounds of the place of our confinement may be similar burial places; we had been told of unmarked graves located in a marsh to the east of the main school building. Yet despite the fact that the Institute was located on the territory of the Six Nations-Ohsweken territory, and within the city of Brantford, Ontario no forensic investigation has been done.

Ours is a story of horror and no different than that of Kamloops, yet none of the former inmates have been interviewed by any police agency or federal official. Perhaps now that the oral recollections are uncovering this massive crime our words will be taken seriously.

When people ask me about my time at the Institute, I become angry. I question whether those who ask truly want to know the truth, particularly when I cite our Native governments for their complicity in what took place behind those brick walls.

In October of 2016 my brother (also a survivor) and I stumbled upon a session sponsored by the Ontario Public Services Employees Union held in Cornwall, Ontario to give our Mohawk people the opportunity to address the national “Truth and Reconciliation” initiative funded by the Canadian federal government. The Union, to its credit, wanted to learn about the effects of the residential schools on our Akwesasne community.

What caused me to become upset was that of all the people at that conference not one was an actual survivor. Yes, there were heartfelt words about the secondary effects of the schools on the children of the students, but no one thought to ask us to attend. Perhaps our stories were too raw, to vivid, to colored with fury but it was indicative of a system in which hundreds of millions of dollars have been spent to “heal” - but not one person at the Native band, the provincial or federal levels - extended the simple courtesy to ask us, the actual victims how to effect “healing” or what we thought would be true justice.

Not one.

Adding to my anger was this: that we have been, by design, denied the right to confront our abusers. Certainly, most have died but I feel too much time has been wasted in these bureaucracy heavy programs and that this opportunity may well be lost forever. I wanted to ask the abusers, those government and church employees what they were thinking when they raped boys and girls while ignoring their pleas for mercy.

I also wanted a response from another party to our humiliations -the Native band and tribal officials (I will not call them leaders) who rejected their sacred duty to protect the Mohawk children sent to those places of punishment. From the Carlisle Indian School in Pennsylvania to Thomas Indian School to the Spanish Institute in northern Ontario those officials stood mute when the children were taken, never asked these victims what was taking place to their own flesh and blood and refused to investigate when they suspected the worst.

Our Mohawk councils were compliant. They did not stop the police from hunting down the children marked for transportation and actually worked with the local church officials to sanction their kidnapping. Not once, in the controversial history of these colonial entities did they try and stop this.

There was an octagon window on the top floor of the Mohawk Institute, the location of the middle dorm for boys 10-13 years of age. We would sit at the window, looking down the long driveway leading to the Institute and praying for someone to come to our rescue. As the light faded and the darkness grew, we become more desperate as we knew the rapists were coming up the stairs to take another victim.

I also learned from a 60’s Scoop attorney that in a 20-year period from1966 to 1986, an estimated 100 Akwesasronon boys and girls were taken from their homes each year and placed into the foster care and residential school system with no records as to what happened to them. Where are they and why has neither council done anything to locate them so they may return to their families?

This is why I challenge the Saint Regis Tribe and the Mohawk Council of Akwesasne. With all of their millions of dollars they have rejected any plan to meet with us to record our stories. They both have well-funded history offices but none of those well paid employees have been directed to meet with us to preserve this vital part of our experiences as Natives, as Mohawks. There is no effort to collect records or, most vital to us, extend a formal apology with appropriate compensation for their active part in this whole residential school controversy.

I also offered to the Mohawk Council of Akwesasne’s education division to help coordinate presentations to the local schools in which we can, with sensitivity to the age of the students, tell them what happened to us and why. I said we should not obscure the truth nor should we silence the survivors by deliberately ignoring their stories (as is being done now) but ensure our voices have validity; such would be our legacy. My proposal was brushed aside as it seems easier to wear an orange tee shirt than listen to the truth.

I hope my resentment, and that of the current four dozen Akwesasronon survivors, may be truly healed when we are given that formal apology, at least before more of us pass on.

I refuse to give any credence to any entity, Tribe or MCA, which lacks the moral courage to acknowledge its complicity in one of the worst times in the history of the Mohawk people.