"The Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada (TRC) was created through a legal settlement between Residential Schools Survivors, the Assembly of First Nations, Inuit representatives and the parties responsible for creation and operation of the schools: the federal government and the church bodies.
The TRC’s mandate was to inform all Canadians about what happened in residential schools. The TRC documented the truth of Survivors, their families, communities and anyone personally affected by the residential school experience. This included First Nations, Inuit and Métis former residential school students, their families, communities, the churches, former school employees, government officials and other Canadians."
Marie Wilson, Murry Sinclair, and Wilton Littlechild were the Commissionaires for the TRC. Each of these individuals have had stellar careers and impressive resumes. They went on a journey for over six years, taking them all over Canada. The end result was an impressive documentation of the journey.
The Commissionaires unveiled the results of their work at a Gathering, June 2015 in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. The TRC Gathering was well attended with Indians from all over Canada. The Commissionaires hosted many events prior to the releasing of their Report. Lot of fun was had by All. Dancing, Walks, Seminars, Singing, a Play (by no disgraced Joseph Boyden pretend Indian) and Pipe Ceremonies.
Commissionaire Marie Wilson was in attendance of a seminar, held at the Museum Of Canadian History It was in a relatively medium sized room. Perhaps a hundred or more people in attendance. The room was filled with plastic chairs and people seated in those chairs. The room was a buzz with excitement. There were people from everywhere; White people, Indians, People of Color, Me, my friend Earl and my brother Don. I don't know who was the speaker at this seminar.
Earl is a residential school survivor, we attended the same Boarding school as he did, the Fort Alexander Indian Boarding School. We were fortunate to go the Ottawa event, due to my brother's efforts. It was a big deal. So I made sure to attend everything going on at the TRC Gathering. I went to the Pipe Ceremony, the Play, and other meeting events. We ran into the Honorable Judge Murry Sinclair and other Big Name Indians at the various events. It was an incredible fun glorious momentous time.
At the speaking seminar in which Commissionaire Marie Wilson was at, we were there. We went in before Ms Wilson had arrived. So we were at the back of the room, standing against the wall. The Commissionaire Marie Wilson had walked past us, as we stood by the wall behind the row of chairs. Commissionaire Wilson has written a book on her experiences during the TRC journey of six years. The people she has met, the Ceremonies she took part in, the travels she took and the stories she heard. Evidently she is a proficient note taker and has a full shelf of her note books from the TRC journey. Commissionaire Marie Wilson was on a radio talk show called Unreserved. It was here I heard her talking of the TRC journey and the resulting book she published: North of Nowhere. Commissionaire Mare Wilson will not me as a-whole-in-the-ground. But I bet she will remember our paths crossing. You see, when I was standing by the wall at the full room of anxious, excited, happy people, I decided I shouldn't have to stand. I mean, I'm one of the Indians here. This event would not be happening if not for Indians like us, who went to school with those Nuns, those Priests, under those circumstances. So being the Indian I am, I reached over to pull a chair so I could sit in it. I pulled it back just enough for me to use it. At the precise time, Commissionaire Marie Wilson had gotten to the chair space and plunked herself down onto said chair. Problem; the chair was no longer there. A scream incurred (or is it occurred, I think it is incurred because it was her fault and not mine, if it was my fault it would occurred) throughout the crowded room of (now) surprised, shocked guests. I yelled out in panic, "it's my fault." My brother and my friend Earl (who I can only describe as a Savage, like in Savage Indian from the Rez) both scrambled out the door. I stood there for a moment, but felt like an eternity, and slowly slithered out the door. Before I left I glanced over to see a colleague of my nephew (both are University Professors) looking sternly at me. Outside of the room I was met with Laughter and scoldings.
I wonder if esteemed Commissionaire Marie Wilson, and now published author, has recalled this encounter in her book.
