First Nations Voice

PAGE 18 • MAY 2014 Facilityrentals (meetings, socials, weddings & more) ASDowns.com 204-885-3330 3975 Portage Ave Winnipeg, MB A A S S D D Live Racing May - September Casino-style VLT lounge Fabulous dining Weekly poker games with cash prizes Open year round D D o the owns! D D o the owns! A A S S D D The sentiments of Mother's day are often surrounded with love and joy. The role of a mother in most cultures is that of the supporting and loving teacher, nurturing the children's sense of who they are. A child's most precious moments often involve the loving comforts that their mother would show them on a daily basis. To love a child is to love the most precious gift given to us by the Creator. This gift was held in highest regard in the Aboriginal community. The whole community would take an active role in raising the children. It was important and many people had much to offer the children. Could a mother's maternal gift be stolen? I present to you this scenario. What would you say if I told you that someone from the government was going to come to your house today, take your 4 year old child from your arms and tell you they are sending them away to school? They don't tell you where your precious little one is going. In my eyes, this could be considered abduction. Can you picture your four year old child living in a school where there is no one there to love or care for them? This is the start of the trauma that these children lived with for years to come. My mother was a residential school survivor. I am her first born daughter. I grew up in Misipawistik Cree Nation with my two older brothers. On the outside my family looked like the average everyday family. On the inside it was a different story. My mother was in residential school from the time she was four until she was 14. My father was in a local Catholic school. He grew tired of getting the strap for speaking in Cree. As a result he left before completing grade 5. When my mother returned to our community she and my father were married when they were teenagers. I know that my parents loved us. They taught us how to work hard. They always made sure we had everything we needed as children. The one thing we didn't receive was the open displays of affection and the verbal display of the love they felt for us. They never told us they loved us or hugged us. This was NOT their fault. I went back home last week to visit. When I left to come back to Winnipeg I gave my mom a big hug. I love my mother and I know she loves me. I understand why she didn't tell us she loved us nor would cuddle or hug us. She had missed the teachings that her mother would have shown her when she was taken to residential school. Parenting and raising children is a learned skill. As a first generation IRS child and single mother I am faced with many challenges. The healing, strange as it sounds, starts with our grandchildren. When I see my parents hugging my daughter, sharing laughs together, I see the love and affection in our family. My hope is that more families in our Aboriginal community will be able to relate to my story, as our people are on our healing journey to overcome this part of history. I am raising my daughter with daily hugs and words of affection. It's never too late to show your children that you love them, no matter how old they are. The past can't be changed. The present is a gift that gives us the choices that will determine our journey. My mother and I talked about our family story and we both agreed that sharing it with you will help our people to see the future is going to be brighter. The eighth fire has started to glow. Let us take her embers and embrace our new destiny. Patrol Sergeant Edith Turner, Winnipeg Police Service MOTHER'S DAY FOR INDIAN RESIDENTIAL SCHOOL SURVIVORS Patrol Sergeant Edith Turner

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