Residential School Denialism

Rose pursuant to notice of June 18, 2026:

That she will call the attention of the Senate to residential school denialism in Canada and its impacts on survivors and reconciliation.

She said: Honourable senators, it’s with great humility that I open an inquiry into residential school denialism.

I would advise the Indigenous people watching that I will be speaking in detail about the harms caused by residential schools. I would also like to acknowledge that Senator McCallum and Senator Karetak-Lindell attended residential schools, and Senator Brian Francis attended day school.

In 2015, House of Anansi Press published my graphic novel. I wanted to communicate with Canadians what I had learned in over 25 years working in the social justice healing space and my doctoral research. The novel is a work of creative non-fiction about a Cree family living in the inner city of Edmonton and their transformation from lives informed by trauma through the incredibly painful healing process and toward a more hopeful future.

The book got a fair amount of media attention and generated a lot of conversation. At one meeting, a woman pushed a copy of my book back at me and asked, “When do we talk about personal responsibility?” She had not read the book, but she had made a few interesting and false assumptions about my research findings.

In many ways, her question informs my understanding of residential school denialism. Without ever reading the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, or TRC, report, without having heard from Survivors and without understanding the breadth of the evidence given by victims of abuse, some Canadians have arrived at the conclusion that residential schools were not all that bad.

Denialism is not refuting that residential schools happened; it is rejecting or misrepresenting basic facts to downplay the harms perpetrated. It is often rooted in the belief that everything European is superior and that Indigenous philosophy, science, spirituality, culture and genetics are inferior. It’s the belief that residential schools lifted Indigenous people from savagery and heathenism into civility and Christianity and that “killing the Indian in the child” was a difficult but necessary government policy.

However, the evidence from decades of legal, social, psychological and economic research by scholars in Canada, New Zealand, Australia and around the colonized globe tells a very different story. Combined with Canada’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s final report, which includes the testimony of thousands of Survivors, the truth should be undeniable.

But what is the truth? For 176 years, First Nations, Métis and Inuit children were forced to attend residential schools with policies based on the Euro-Christian beliefs that Indigenous Peoples were primitive, godless and heathen, childlike and unable to care for themselves. Therefore, the government assumed that Indigenous children would fail to succeed if they remained under the influence of their families. So, residential school policy included three dimensions: First, separate children from family, language, culture and spirituality; second, socialize them into European values and lifestyle; and, third, assimilate them through enfranchisement.

Colleagues, residential schools were severely underfunded, mismanaged and poorly monitored. Unqualified staff instructed children who often did not speak English. There were no useful standards or oversight of the curriculum, residential care or health care. Calling these places schools is a gross misrepresentation. However, this is the wording used in the class action settlements and the TRC report, so we are stuck with it.

Students were told that they were heathens and that their families’ spiritual practices and beliefs were evil. Many were beaten for speaking their first language. Children spent most of their day performing physical labour and reciting prayers. Residential schools were opened with the belief that, through the physical labour of children and underpaid church staff, the schools would not be a burden to the Canadian government. The absence of funding diminished safety and well-being in the buildings, and it limited the quality and quantity of food available for students. Consequently, children were malnourished, which weakened their immune systems.

Underfunding also caused overcrowding because the churches needed as much tuition as possible. As a result, diseases like tuberculosis ran rampant, and many students died at the schools, suffering from insufficient medical care.

The late senator Murray Sinclair, who headed the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, told the Toronto Star in 2015 that:

. . . the federal government stopped recording the deaths around 1920, after the chief medical officer at Indian Affairs suggested children were dying at an alarming rate.

“He was fired. . . . The government stopped recording deaths of children in residential schools, we think, probably because the rates were so high.”

Anyone who saw the memorial cloth yesterday knows that there are thousands of children whose names were verified who never returned home.

Senators, it is well documented that there were high rates of abuse perpetrated by staff at these institutions. The Independent Assessment Process was established to resolve claims out of court for physical and sexual abuse suffered by former students. The process required significant painful evidence to be presented at the hearing. Roughly 38,000 applications were received, over 20,000 hearings were held, and over $2.2 billion has been paid out in compensation.

A straight line can be drawn connecting generations of residential school Survivors to generations that have been raised in government care. Survivors of these systems grew up without a nurturing adult who could be trusted. They emerged as adults with no experience of a loving family to draw on. Many Survivors passed on this inability to form trusting relationships to their children.

Indigenous communities, colleagues, were once deeply interconnected social safety nets, mobilized to ensure the protection, education and social development of children who grew into contributing adults.

These schools introduced pervasive intergenerational cycles of family violence in some families. Most children left these institutions poorly educated, with rudimentary skills and feeling isolated from their families and communities, hopeless, helpless and powerless. They, their families and their communities suffered as a result.

Colleagues, this is historical trauma. It refers specifically to the intergenerational impact of Canadian laws and policies on Indigenous Peoples. Although there has been a tremendous amount of healing across what we know as Turtle Island, including the reclamation of language, ceremony and self-determination, we still have a lot of work to do.

Residential school denialism has existed as long as the policy has existed. In the beginning, denialism was created by the government. Very few non-Indigenous Canadians knew what was happening at residential schools, even those who lived close by. It was a secret kept by the government, and Survivors learned that they should not talk about the spiritual, physical and sexual abuse that occurred within those walls.

For many Indigenous individuals, families and communities, the loss of self-determination, ceremony, language, family structure and culture has been devastating. This loss is compounded by the fact that, for decades, Canadians believed the myth that cultural genocide was an act of charity for the betterment of Indigenous Peoples.

And so the natural reaction of grief to this overwhelming loss was denied to Indigenous people. They suffered disenfranchised grief that caused the intensification of anger, guilt, sadness and helplessness, which was passed on to future generations.

In 1996, however, brave Survivors began to reveal the dark truth of their experiences, and denialism took a turn. Canadians who grew up with the sanitized national self-image of Canada combined with negative stereotypes of First Nations people could not believe that churches could be responsible for such abuses. They experience cognitive dissonance, the psychological discomfort that exists between their beliefs and the truth. And, of course, at the same time that Canadians began confronting the reality of these harms, there were people who saw that there was money, notoriety and even university tenure to be gained by exploiting this discomfort and encouraging Canadians to lean into the denial.

However, in 2015, colleagues, you may remember that there was a period of grace. When the TRC’s work was first published, there was a fragile but powerful space where real, transformative dialogue was unfolding. Media began reporting on the testimonies collected by the TRC. We began embedding truthful accounts of Indigenous histories of Canada by Indigenous Canadians into our school curriculums. Canadians began considering how we could reconcile a difficult past into a hopeful future.

Then, the media began reporting that there were potentially unmarked graves outside of the Kamloops Indian Residential School. At that moment, you might even recall how in this chamber it felt like our entire nation held its breath. For many Canadians, it was the first time they heard this information. However, I remind colleagues that we have known that children were buried at these institutions for decades. In 1974 in Saskatchewan, 74 unmarked graves were identified and excavated at the former Battleford Industrial School. In 1992, graves were discovered during construction work at the site of the former Muscowequan Residential School.

In 1996, erosion caused by flooding exposed caskets and human remains associated with the former St. Joseph’s Industrial School by High River, Alberta. Those remains were subsequently recovered and reinterred. And in 2015, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission issued its Calls to Action 71 to 76, for an established national framework for burial records, cemetery identification, family notification and site protection.

After 2021, many nations began processes to not only identify graves, but to figure out whose children were buried there and decide whether disturbing those remains was in the families’ and communities’ best interests. This is still ongoing. Personally, I will note that I have worked very closely with an Elder who was made to dig a grave outside his residential school for a classmate. However, when the 215 potential unmarked graves were given significant media attention — and the government appropriately moved quickly to work with First Nations to figure out how best to move forward — others saw an opportunity. Alt-right groups moved quickly to cast doubt and spread misinformation. Their goals were to foment division and recruit. Online grifters also identified the immense opportunity to make money.

Colleagues, I ask you to personalize this for just one moment. Even if you sent your children away to boarding school willingly, if your child died of tuberculosis, other diseases caused by malnutrition, an accident or abuse, would you consider it appropriate that the church bury your child at the school, rather than returning their body home?

Would your family not need to perform burial rites for your child? It was also well documented that some families were never told if their child was missing or dead, how they died and where their bodies were buried. I know of no family that would not need to grieve. Obviously, harms were caused to families and communities. To deny the harm is to deny their humanity.

As a country, we are beginning to consider real courses of action to address the issue of denialism. Many Indigenous communities and organizations have said that residential school denialism should be criminalized to address harmful denialist conduct and protect Survivors.

Some legal scholars and civil libertarian organizations oppose criminalization. They argue that education, public engagement and evidence-based discussion are preferable responses. They caution that criminalization may inappropriately target some Survivors and create difficulties in distinguishing denialism from legitimate inquiry.

Education is obviously an important tool here. Truth is the sunlight that disinfects the scourge of lies. I am one of the many Indigenous people who have provided training and lectures and produced videos to help Canadians better understand colonization, historic trauma and healing. I have nothing but time and compassion for Canadians who are grappling with a history they were never taught in school.

However, in the age of online misinformation and monetization, Canadians are being deliberately misled for personal and organizational gain. Disingenuous people are causing pain for clicks and clout. It sometimes feels like fighting a losing battle.

However, we as legislators have a responsibility to find meaningful consequences for retraumatizing Survivors, families and communities that have already suffered so much.

The government must consult First Nations, Métis and Inuit Peoples to determine the appropriate sanctions. That law must reflect their dialogue. Parliamentarians cannot stay silent in the face of untruths. Thus, I offer this inquiry to promote meaningful dialogue and truth-sharing.

Finally, some Canadians might be listening and thinking Canada needs to focus on big things — that we have to stop worrying about feelings and focus on our sovereignty and economy. I would counter that building a resilient economy where all Canadians can flourish begins with respectful dialogue between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people.

We cannot focus on building at speeds never seen before without the meaningful participation of Indigenous Peoples. Section 35 of our Constitution and our treaties require it, and an appropriately oriented moral compass demands it. Residential school denialism eats away at that relationship. It erodes any trust we have built over the decades. We cannot allow scam artists, grifters and hate-mongers to shape Canada’s narrative, limit our infinite potential and threaten our capacity to remain the true north strong and free. Our sovereignty and survival depend on it. Let me quickly return to the story I opened with. Indeed, we all have personal responsibility. Survivors and their families have a personal responsibility to their healing journeys. No one can heal us; we can only heal ourselves.

Non-Indigenous Canadians have the responsibility to learn the truth about history and walk beside us in that journey with kindness, empathy and respect. And we all have the responsibility to build a society we are proud of. Hiy hiy.