legacy.txt

The legacy
==========

	I want Canadians to understand that [the legacy of the residential 
	schools] does not just affect the lives of the person who actually 
	attended the school, but family members, such as spouses and children, 
	are also very deeply affected about this sad legacy in history.

	— Johanne Coutu-Autut, spouse of former Turquetil Hall resident^1

Residential schools are a tragic part of Canada’s history. But they cannot 
simply be consigned to history. The legacy from the schools and the political 
and legal policies and mechanisms surrounding their history continue to this 
day. This is reflected in the significant educational, income, health, and 
social disparities between Aboriginal people and other Canadians. It is 
reflected in the intense racism some people harbour against Aboriginal people 
and in the systemic and other forms of discrimination Aboriginal people 
regularly experience in this country. It is reflected too in the critically 
endangered status of most Aboriginal languages.

Current conditions such as the disproportionate apprehension of Aboriginal 
children by child-welfare agencies and the disproportionate imprisonment and 
victimization of Aboriginal people can be explained in part as a result or 
legacy of the way that Aboriginal children were treated in residential schools 
and were denied an environment of positive parenting, worthy community leaders, 
and a positive sense of identity and self-worth. The schools could be brutal 
places, as Joseph Martin Larocque, a former student at the Beauval residential 
school in Saskatchewan, told the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada.

	[Residential school] was a very harsh environment. They, they treated us 
	like criminals.… You, you had to, it’s like a prison. But we were small 
	kids, and we didn’t understand. We didn’t understand harsh discipline. 
	We, we understood love from our, our parents. But the harsh discipline 
	was hard to take, and that happened to everybody, not only me.^2

The impacts of the legacy of residential schools have not ended with those who 
attended the schools. They affected the Survivors’ partners, their children, 
their grandchildren, their extended families, and their communities. Children 
who were abused in the schools sometimes went on to abuse others. Many students 
who spoke to the Commission said they developed addictions as a means of coping. 
Students who were treated and punished like prisoners in the schools often 
graduated to real prisons. For many, the path from residential school to prison 
was a short one. Mervin Mirasty was a student at the Beauval residential school.

	I ran away from school. I’d go out, I’d walk around town, and steal 
	whatever I could steal.… I started stealing cars. I got caught at 
	fifteen. I ended up in jail. From that point of fifteen years old ’til … 
	to the year 2000, I got sentenced to twenty-five years all together, 
	twenty-five years all together. And I don’t know what I was fighting, 
	what I was trying to do. I didn’t care who I stole from. I drank. I 
	started drinking when I was about seventeen, eighteen. I drank, I stole, 
	I hardly worked. I used the system, the welfare system, and plus I 
	stole, and I drank.^3

Children exposed to strict and regimented discipline in the schools sometimes 
found it difficult to become loving parents. Genine Paul-Dimitracopoulos’s 
mother was placed in the Shubenacadie residential school in Nova Scotia at a 
very early age. Paul-Dimitracopoulos told the Commission that knowing this, and 
what the school was like, helped her understand “how we grew up because my mom 
never really showed us love when we were kids coming up. She, when I was hurt or 
cried, she was never there to console you or to hug you. If I hurt myself she 
would never give me a hug and tell me it would be okay. I didn’t understand 
why.”^4 Alma Scott of Winnipeg told the Commission that as “a direct result of 
those residential schools because I was a dysfunctional mother.… I spent over 
twenty years of my life stuck in a bottle in an addiction where I didn’t want to 
feel any emotions so I numbed out with drugs and with alcohol…. That’s how I 
raised my children, that’s what my children saw, and that’s what I saw.”^5

The Commission is convinced that genuine reconciliation will not be possible 
until the complex legacy of the schools is understood, acknowledged, and 
addressed. Parliament and the Supreme Court have recognized that the legacy of 
residential schools should be considered when sentencing Aboriginal offenders. 
Although these have been important measures, they have not been sufficient to 
address the grossly disproportionate imprisonment of Aboriginal people, which 
continues to grow, in part because of a lack of adequate funding and support for 
culturally appropriate alternatives to imprisonment.

More First Nations child-welfare agencies have been established, but the 
disproportionate apprehension of Aboriginal children also continues to grow. In 
part, this has happened because of a lack of adequate funding for culturally 
appropriate supports that would allow children to remain safely with their 
families, or to allow children to be placed in foster or adoptive environments 
that are culturally appropriate and capable of giving children a sense of 
identity, self-respect, and self-worth.

Many of the individual and collective harms have not yet been redressed, even 
after the negotiated out-of-court settlement of the residential school 
litigation in 2006, and Canada’s apology in 2008. In fact, some of the damages 
done by residential schools to Aboriginal families, languages, education, and 
health may be perpetuated and even worsened as a result of current governmental 
policies. New policies can easily be based on a lack of understanding of 
Aboriginal people, similar to that which motivated the schools. For example, 
current child-welfare and health policies that fail to take into account the 
importance of community in raising children can result in inappropriate decision 
making. We must learn from the failure of the schools in order to ensure that 
the mistakes of the past are not repeated in the future.

Despite the challenges and failings in responding to the legacy of residential 
schools, and a concern that the federal government may have lost a sense of 
urgency on these issues since the 2006 Indian Residential Schools Settlement 
Agreement and Canada’s apology in 2008, the Commission is nonetheless cautiously 
optimistic that promising pathways to constructive reforms do exist. These could 
include new strategies based on respect for Aboriginal self-determination and 
for Canada’s obligations under Treaties, and Canada’s endorsement of the new 
United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.

In its February 2012 Interim Report, the Commission observed that the United 
Nations Declaration provides a valuable framework for working towards ongoing 
reconciliation between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Canadians. We continue to 
encourage all governments, and all the legal parties to the Settlement 
Agreement, to use it as such a framework.^6

The Government of Canada initially refused to adopt the Declaration. When it 
finally did endorse the Declaration, it did not fully embrace its principles, 
saying that “it is a non-legally binding document that does not reflect 
customary international law nor change Canadian laws.”^7 The Commission is 
convinced that a refusal to respect the rights and remedies in the Declaration 
will serve to further aggravate the legacy of residential schools, and will 
constitute a barrier to progress towards reconciliation.

Child welfare
-------------

Residential schools, as acknowledged by the prime minister’s own admission in 
his 2008 official apology from Canada, were an attack on Aboriginal children and 
families. They were based on racist attitudes that considered Aboriginal 
families as being frequently unfit to care for their children. By removing 
children from their communities and by subjecting them to strict discipline, 
religious indoctrination, and a regimented life more akin to life in a prison 
than a family, residential schools often harmed the subsequent ability of the 
students to be caring parents. In many ways, the schools were more a 
child-welfare system than an educational one. A survey in 1953 suggested that of 
10,112 students then in residential schools, 4,313 were either orphans or from 
what were described as “broken homes.”^8 From the 1940s onwards, residential 
schools increasingly served as orphanages and child-welfare facilities. By 1960, 
the federal government estimated that 50% of the children in residential schools 
were there for child-welfare reasons.^9

The residential school experience was followed by the “Sixties Scoop”—the 
widescale national apprehension of Aboriginal children by child-welfare 
agencies. Childwelfare authorities removed thousands of Aboriginal children from 
their families and communities and placed them in non-Aboriginal homes without 
taking steps to preserve their culture and identity. Children were placed in 
homes across Canada, in the United States, and even overseas. This practice 
actually extended well beyond the 1960s, until at least the mid- to late 
1980s.^10

Today, the effects of the residential school experience and the Sixties Scoop 
have adversely affected parenting skills and the success of many Aboriginal 
families. These factors, combined with prejudicial attitudes toward Aboriginal 
parenting skills and a tendency to see Aboriginal poverty as a symptom of 
neglect, rather than as a consequence of failed government policies, have 
resulted in grossly disproportionate rates of child apprehension among 
Aboriginal people. A 2011 Statistics Canada study found that 14,225 or 3.6% of 
all First Nations children aged fourteen and under were in foster care, compared 
with 15,345 or 0.3% of non-Aboriginal children.^11 As Old Crow Chief Norma Kassi 
said at the Northern National Event in Inuvik, “The doors are closed at the 
residential schools but the foster homes are still existing and our children are 
still being taken away.”^12 The Commission agrees: Canada’s child-welfare system 
has simply continued the assimilation that the residential school system 
started.

Canada’s child-welfare crisis has not gone unnoticed in the international 
community. In 2012, the United Nations Committee on the Rights of the Child 
expressed to Canada its concern about the frequent removal of children in Canada 
from families as a “first resort” in cases of neglect, financial hardship, or 
disability. In its report, the committee singled out the frequency with which 
Aboriginal children are placed outside their communities.^13 Noting that Canada 
had failed to act on its own auditor general’s findings of inequitable 
child-welfare funding, the committee concluded that “urgent measures” were 
needed to address the discriminatory overrepresentation of Aboriginal children 
in out-of-home care.^14

	Disturbing data
	---------------

The First Nations Component of the Canadian Incidence Study of Reported Child 
Abuse and Neglect, designed by the Public Health Agency of Canada and its 
provincial, academic, and agency partners, confirmed that Aboriginal children in 
the geographic areas studied are also significantly overrepresented as subjects 
of child maltreatment investigations. For every 1,000 First Nations children, 
there were 140.6 child maltreatment-related investigations, as compared with 
33.5 investigations for non-Aboriginal children.^15 The rate of investigations 
involving First Nations children was 4.2 times the rate of non-Aboriginal 
investigations.^16 The study also found that in the population under review, 
those allegations were more likely to be substantiated in the cases of First 
Nations children. This was true for all categories of maltreatment, but the 
difference was most extreme for investigations of neglect.^17 Investigations of 
First Nations families for neglect were substantiated at a rate eight times 
greater than for the non-Aboriginal population.^18

An analysis of the Canadian Incidence Study confirmed that poverty and social 
stressors are major factors in child-welfare investigations involving Aboriginal 
families. Aboriginal parents were more likely to experience a host of serious 
risk factors, including domestic violence, alcohol abuse, lack of social 
supports, drug or solvent abuse, and a history of living in foster care or group 
homes.^19 The direct connection between Aboriginal poverty and high 
child-welfare apprehensions has been known for half a century. Yet, Aboriginal 
children are still taken away from their parents because their parents are poor.

Researchers suggest that clear standards are needed to guide apprehensions, and 
that the provision of family supports and prevention services might be a better 
response to concerns than removal of the child.^20 There must be a commitment to 
reducing the number of Aboriginal children in care and developing supports to 
keep families together. Child-welfare workers must bring to their work an 
understanding of Aboriginal culture as well as an understanding of the lasting 
harms caused by residential schools.

	Call to Action

	1) We call upon the federal, provincial, territorial, and Aboriginal 
	governments to commit to reducing the number of Aboriginal children in 
	care by: i.  Monitoring and assessing neglect investigations. ii.  
	Providing adequate resources to enable Aboriginal communities and 
	child-welfare organizations to keep Aboriginal families together where 
	it is safe to do so, and to keep children in culturally appropriate 
	environments, regardless of where they reside. iii. Ensuring that social 
	workers and others who conduct child-welfare investigations are properly 
	educated and trained about the history and impacts of residential 
	schools. iv. Ensuring that social workers and others who conduct 
	child-welfare investigations are properly educated and trained about the 
	potential for Aboriginal communities and families to provide more 
	appropriate solutions to family healing. v. Requiring that all 
	child-welfare decision makers consider the impact of the residential 
	school experience on children and their caregivers. Better research and 
	data are also required in order to monitor and develop strategies to 
	reduce the overrepresentation of Aboriginal children in care.
	
	Call to Action

	2) We call upon the federal government, in collaboration with the 
	provinces and territories, to prepare and publish annual reports on the 
	number of Aboriginal children (First Nations, Inuit, and Métis) who are 
	in care, compared with non-Aboriginal children, as well as the reasons 
	for apprehension, the total spending on preventive and care services by 
	child-welfare agencies, and the effectiveness of various interventions.

	Death and abuse of children in care
	-----------------------------------

The child-welfare system apprehends too many Aboriginal children while, at the 
same time, failing to protect them. The Commission heard many stories of 
mistreatment in foster homes. One woman told us that her foster parents 
physically and sexually abused her. Her Aboriginal identity was constantly 
disparaged. She said, “[My foster parents were] adamant about Aboriginal culture 
being less than human, living as dirty bush people, eating rats. It made me not 
want to be one of those people. And for years, I didn’t know how to be proud of 
who I was because I didn’t know who I was.”^21

Linda Clarke was placed in a foster home with three other children.

	In that foster home there was a pedophile, and I don’t [know] what was 
	happening to anybody else, but I became his target. The mother used to 
	always send me to do errands with him. And so every time, he would make 
	me do things to him and then he would give me candy. Also, in that home 
	there was no hugging of us foster kids or anything like that. And I 
	carried a great guilt for many, many years, because sometimes I didn’t 
	want to resist it, I just…. But I knew it was very bad.^22

Sometimes, child-welfare placements end in tragedy. Where there are 
province-specific statistics available, the findings suggest that in some parts 
of the country, Aboriginal children who come into contact with child-welfare 
authorities are significantly more likely to die.

Research in Alberta indicated that 78% of children who have died in foster care 
between 1999 and mid-2013 were Aboriginal.^23 Since Aboriginal children, a 
minority of the overall population, represent 59% of children in care in 
Alberta, the rate of Aboriginal child deaths in care is even more 
disproportionate than the apprehension rate. Of the seventy-four recorded deaths 
of Aboriginal children in care, thirteen were due to accidents, twelve children 
committed suicide, and ten children were the victims of homicide.^24 Forty-five 
of these Aboriginal children died while in the care of a provincial 
child-welfare agency, and twenty-nine died in the care of an on-reserve First 
Nations child and family service agency.

	Delivery of child-welfare services
	----------------------------------

There are over 300 child-welfare agencies in Canada operating under provincial 
and territorial jurisdiction. In addition, Canada provides funding to over 100 
agencies delivering child and family services to First Nations families under 
the framework of provincial legislation.^25 In 2010–11, there were 9,241 First 
Nations children outside the parental home and in the care of these First 
Nations child and family service agencies, representing 5.5% of on-reserve 
children.^26 A few larger Canadian cities (such as Toronto and Vancouver) also 
have Aboriginal child and family service agencies.^27 In Manitoba, there is also 
an agency serving Métis families. There are, however, no Aboriginally controlled 
agencies in the three northern territories; child-welfare services to Aboriginal 
families there are provided through the same government agencies that serve all 
children. In two out of the three territories, Aboriginal people make up a 
majority of the members in their legislatures and cabinets.

Although the federal government acknowledges its responsibility for 
child-welfare services to First Nations families, Métis communities are not well 
served. The Commission believes that adequately funded, Métis-specific, child 
and family services must be made available to Métis children and families. The 
Government of Canada should not let unresolved jurisdictional disputes stand in 
the way of the acceptance of such responsibilities. Similarly, the Commission 
believes the Government of Canada should ensure the development of adequately 
resourced Inuit child-welfare services in the North and in urban centres such as 
Ottawa and Montreal that have a significant Inuit population.

	Lack of adequate funding
	------------------------

Proof of the effectiveness of First Nations child and family service agencies is 
still preliminary, but anecdotal evidence and case studies suggest that First 
Nation agencies are more effective than non-Aboriginal agencies in providing 
service to First Nation clients.^28 But, it is troubling that the ability of 
First Nations child and family services agencies to develop culturally 
appropriate services has been constrained by limited funding. Of twelve First 
Nations agencies surveyed in 2005, 83.4% reported that they did not receive 
adequate funds to ensure culturally appropriate services.^29 It is clear that 
the way in which Canada has funded Aboriginal child welfare has hampered First 
Nations agencies in providing effective services. This shortfall continues to 
inflict pain on Aboriginal families and communities, and contributes to the 
continuing overrepresentation of Aboriginal children in foster care.

	Jurisdictional disputes
	-----------------------

Jurisdictional responsibility for child welfare is intensely contested. 
Historically, the federal government and provincial and territorial governments 
have tried to shift responsibility for Aboriginal child services from one level 
of government to another. The federal position is that responsibility for child 
and family services lies solely within the jurisdiction of the provinces and 
territories. Canada contends that the federal government is responsible for 
funding only on-reserve services. In contrast, the provinces maintain that the 
federal government has constitutional responsibility for ‘Indians,’ and argue 
that Ottawa has off-loaded that responsibility to the provinces to provide 
services to an increasingly urban, non-reserve population.^30

The result is that there are often disputes over which level of government or 
department is responsible for paying costs. The repercussions of these disputes 
can be serious, with Aboriginal children paying the highest price—in particular, 
children with complex developmental, mental health, and physical health 
issues.^31

In 2007, the House of Commons unanimously supported the adoption of “Jordan’s 
Principle,” named in honour of a Manitoba infant born with complex medical needs 
who spent all of his short life in hospital, caught up in a federal–provincial 
jurisdictional dispute over responsibility for funding his care.^32 According to 
Jordan’s Principle, the government department that is first contacted for a 
service available only off-reserve must pay for it and later pursue 
reimbursement for the expenses.^33 But Jordan’s Principle was not passed into 
law; rather, it is a statement of principle by the Canadian parliament.^34 Many 
inter-governmental cases of disputed responsibility continue.

	Call to Action:

	3) We call upon all levels of government to fully implement Jordan’s 
	Principle.

	Improving outcomes for children
	-------------------------------

Although there is now considerable Aboriginal control of child-welfare services, 
Aboriginal agencies still struggle for adequate funding. There is a need for 
more funding and research into preventive services that can support Aboriginal 
families. At the same time, many of the conditions that result in 
disproportionate Aboriginal involvement in the child-welfare system are related 
to more intractable legacies of residential schools, including poverty, 
addictions, and domestic and sexual violence. We believe that in order to 
redress the legacy of residential schools and to move towards more respectful 
and healthy relationships, the Government of Canada, in meaningful consultation 
with First Nations, Inuit, and Métis communities, must recognize and address the 
broader context of the child-welfare crisis. This includes matters of child 
poverty, housing, water, sanitation, food security, family violence, addictions, 
and educational inequities. Effective child-welfare reform will require both 
measureable targets and timelines for reducing the numbers and proportion of 
Aboriginal children in care, greater consistency in the system’s regulatory 
framework, and the acknowledgement of the central role of Aboriginal agencies.

Canada has rejected First Nations’ demands to operate services in accordance 
with traditional laws and traditional justice systems. By contrast, in the 
United States, tribal courts have played an important role in the child-welfare 
system since 1978. These courts have exclusive jurisdiction over custody 
proceedings involving Native American children living on a reservation. They may 
also play a role in Native American child-custody cases where the child lives 
outside a reservation.^35 While not perfect, the American system has led to 
greater tribal authority over the placement of Indigenous children, as well as 
the expansion of family preservation programs. Indigenous children are still 
removed from their homes in disproportionately high numbers, but the rate of 
overrepresentation has decreased. The rate of placement with non-Indigenous 
caregivers has also decreased.^36

	Call to Action

	4) We call upon the federal government to enact Aboriginal child-welfare 
	legislation that establishes national standards for Aboriginal child 
	apprehension and custody cases and includes principles that: i. Affirm 
	the right of Aboriginal governments to establish and maintain their own 
	child-welfare agencies. ii. Require all child-welfare agencies and 
	courts to take the residential school legacy into account in their 
	decision making. iii. Establish, as an important priority, a requirement 
	that placements of Aboriginal children into temporary and permanent care 
	be culturally appropriate.

There is also a human dimension to improving outcomes for Aboriginal children. 
The intergenerational impact of the residential school experience has left some 
families without strong role models for parenting. An investment in culturally 
appropriate programs in Aboriginal communities has the potential to improve 
parenting skills and enable more children to grow up safely in their own 
families and communities.

	Call to Action

	5) We call upon the federal, provincial, territorial, and Aboriginal 
	governments to develop culturally appropriate parenting programs for 
	Aboriginal families.
	
Education
---------

The residential school system failed as an education system. It was based on 
racist assumptions about the intellectual and cultural inferiority of Aboriginal 
people—the belief that Aboriginal children were incapable of attaining anything 
more than a rudimentary elementary-level or vocational education. Consequently, 
for most of the system’s history, the majority of students never progressed 
beyond elementary school. The government and church officials who operated the 
residential schools ignored the positive emphasis that the Treaties and many 
Aboriginal families placed on education. Instead, they created dangerous and 
frightening institutions that provided little learning.

In their mission to ‘civilize’ and Christianize, the school staff relied on 
corporal punishment to discipline their students. That punishment often crossed 
the line into physical abuse. Although it is employed much less frequently now, 
corporal punishment is still legally permissible in schools and elsewhere under 
Canadian law. Section 43 of the Criminal Code says: “Every schoolteacher, parent 
or person standing in the place of a parent is justified in using force by way 
of correction toward a pupil or child, as the case may be, who is under his 
care, if the force does not exceed what is reasonable under the circumstances.” 
The Commission believes that corporal punishment is a relic of a discredited 
past and has no place in Canadian schools or homes.

	Call to Action

	6) We call upon the Government of Canada to repeal Section 43 of the 
	Criminal Code of Canada.

The objectives of the schools were to strip away Aboriginal children’s 
identities and assimilate them into Western Christian society. Doris Young, who 
attended the Elkhorn residential school in Manitoba, described the experience as 
a systematic attack on her identity as a Cree person.
	
	Those schools were a war on Aboriginal children, and they took away our 
	identity. First of all, they gave us numbers, we had no names, we were 
	numbers, and they cut our hair. They took away our clothes, and gave us 
	clothes … we all looked alike. Our hair was all the same, cut us into 
	bangs, and straight short, straight hair up to our ears.... They took 
	away our moccasins, and gave us shoes. I was just a baby. I didn’t 
	actually wear shoes, we wore moccasins. And so our identity was 
	immediately taken away when we entered those schools.^37

In addition to the emotional and psychological damage they inflicted, one of the 
most far-reaching and devastating legacies of residential schools has been their 
impact on the educational and economic success of Aboriginal people. The lack of 
role models and mentors, insufficient funds for the schools, inadequate 
teachers, and unsuitable curricula generally taught in a foreign language—and 
sometimes by teachers who were also not proficient in the language of 
instruction—have all contributed to dismal success rates for Aboriginal 
education. These conditions were compounded for many students by the challenges 
of trying to learn in environments rendered traumatic by homesickness, hunger, 
fear, abuse, and institutionalized helplessness. The Commission has heard many 
examples of students who attended residential school for eight or more years, 
but left with nothing more than Grade Three achievement, and sometimes without 
even the ability to read. According to Indian Affairs annual reports, in the 
1950s, only half of each year’s enrolment got to Grade Six.^38

Poor educational achievement has led to the chronic unemployment or 
under-employment, poverty, poor housing, substance abuse, family violence, and 
ill health that many former students of the schools have suffered as adults. 
Although educational success rates are slowly improving, Aboriginal Canadians 
still have dramatically lower educational and economic achievements than other 
Canadians.

Education is a fundamental human and Aboriginal right, guaranteed in Treaties, 
in international law, and in the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. In 
particular, the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples 
contains a powerful statement on the right to education under community control. 
The Declaration states, “Indigenous peoples have the right to establish and 
control their educational systems and institutions providing education in their 
own languages, in a manner appropriate to their cultural methods of teaching and 
learning.”^39 The Commission believes that fulfilling the promise of the 
Declaration will be key to overcoming the legacy of the residential schools.

	Education and the income gap
	----------------------------

It is not surprising that, faced with terrible conditions and mostly ineffective 
teaching, many students left school as soon as they could. A 2010 study of 
Aboriginal parents and children living off reserves found that the high school 
completion rate is lower for former residential school students (28%) than for 
those who did not attend (36%).^40 Only 7% of the parents who attended 
residential school have obtained a university degree, compared with 10% for 
those Aboriginal parents who had never attended these institutions.^41

Although secondary school graduation rates for all Aboriginal people have 
improved since the closure of the schools, considerable gaps remain when 
compared with the rates for the non-Aboriginal population. For example, 
according to the 2006 census, 34% of Aboriginal adults had not graduated from 
high school, compared with only 15% of their non-Aboriginal counterparts.^42 In 
the 2011 census, these numbers improved slightly, with 29% of Aboriginal people 
not graduating from high school, compared with 12% in the non-Aboriginal 
population.^43

It is significant that the lowest levels of educational success are in those 
communities with the highest percentages of descendants of residential school 
Survivors: First Nations people living on reserves, and Inuit. Both groups have 
a high school completion rate of 41% or less.^44

The statistics for First Nations people living off reserves and for Métis are 
somewhat better. More than 60% of First Nations people living off reserves and 
65% to 75% of Métis people have graduated from high school (although these 
results are still below the national average).^45

Lower educational attainment for the children of Survivors has severely limited 
their employment and earning potential, just as it did for their parents. 
Aboriginal people have lower median after-tax income, are more likely to 
experience unemployment, and are more likely to collect employment insurance and 
social assistance benefits.^46 This situation is true for all Aboriginal groups, 
with some variations. In 2009, the Métis unemployment rate for persons aged 
twenty-five to fifty-four was 9.4%, while the non-Aboriginal rate was 7.0%.^47 
In 2006, the Inuit unemployment rate was 19%.^48 The true rates of unemployment 
for people living on reserves are difficult to ascertain because of limited data 
collection.^49

Aboriginal people also have incomes well below their non-Aboriginal 
counterparts. The median income for Aboriginal people in 2006 was 30% lower than 
the median income for non-Aboriginal workers ($18,962 versus $27,097, 
respectively).^50 The gap narrows when Aboriginal people obtain a university 
degree, which they do at a far lower rate.^51 Not surprisingly, the child 
poverty rate for Aboriginal children is also very high—40%, compared with 17% 
for all children in Canada.^52 The income gap is pervasive: non-Aboriginal 
Canadians earn more than Aboriginal workers no matter whether they work on 
reserves, off reserves, or in urban, rural, or remote locations.^53

The proportion of Aboriginal adults below the poverty line, regardless of age 
and gender, is much higher than that of non-Aboriginal adults, with differences 
ranging from 7.8% for adult men aged sixty-five or older, to 22.5% for adult 
women aged sixty-five or older.^54 The depth of poverty is also much greater, 
with Aboriginal people having an average income that falls further below the 
poverty line on average than that of non-Aboriginal adults, and their poverty is 
more likely to have persisted for a significant period of time.^55

	Call to Action

	7) We call upon the federal government to develop with Aboriginal groups 
	a joint strategy to eliminate educational and employment gaps between 
	Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Canadians.
	
	Funding inequities
	------------------

Present-day Aboriginal education in Canada is made up of a mix of models. The 
federal government funds schools on reserves, with the actual operation of those 
schools often delegated to the local First Nation. Aboriginal children who do 
not live on reserves are educated through the provincial or territorial school 
systems. In addition, there are a few education systems completely run and 
managed by First Nations through self-government and other types of 
intergovernmental agreements.

There are approximately 72,000 students attending 518 First Nation schools.^56 
Despite those numbers, many children must still leave their homes and families 
behind if they wish to obtain a higher education, even at the high school level.

Since 1973, the Government of Canada has claimed that it is committed to 
devolving control of education to First Nations people.^57 However, the 
interpretation of “Indian control” offered by the Government of Canada bears 
little resemblance to the vision of First Nations. The government’s version of 
the term has entailed the devolution of federal education programs to First 
Nations, without the benefit of adequate funding or statutory authority.^58 
Indeed, when devolution began, it was designed to occur without any additional 
expense. This meant that former Indian Affairs-operated schools, which were 
already substandard compared with provincial norms, were handed over to the 
First Nation bands to run, but without giving the bands the means to operate 
them effectively. As a result, the curriculum for the majority of First Nation 
schools is virtually identical to that found in the provincial and territorial 
schools.^59 This approach is not significantly different from the approach 
during the residential school era, when Indigenous communities had no say in the 
content and language of their children’s schooling.

The funding formula for First Nations schools was last updated in 1996, and does 
not take into account the range of basic and contemporary education components 
needed to deliver a good-quality education in the twenty-first century, such as 
information and communication technologies, sports and recreation, language 
proficiency, and library services.^60 Worse still, since 1996, funding growth 
for First Nations education has been capped at 2%, an amount that has been 
insufficient to keep pace with either inflation or the rapid increases in the 
Aboriginal student population.^61 Meanwhile, between 1996 and 2006, funding to 
provincial and territorial school systems increased annually by 3.8%, almost 
double the increase for reserve schools.^62 The underfunding of reserve schools 
likely violates Treaty promises about education, and makes it very difficult to 
overcome the educational and consequent income gaps.

In many cases, the fees that First Nations are charged when they send their 
children to provincial schools are higher than the amount of funding they 
receive from Canada per student.^63

	Calls to Action

	8) We call upon the federal government to eliminate the discrepancy in 
	federal education funding for First Nations children being educated on 
	reserves and those First Nations children being educated off reserves.
	
	9) We call upon the federal government to prepare and publish annual 
	reports comparing funding for the education of First Nations children on 
	and off reserves, as well as educational and income attainments of 
	Aboriginal peoples in Canada compared with non-Aboriginal people.

	Education reform
	----------------

Since 2011, three major reports on First Nations education have concluded that 
the status quo is unacceptable and that there is a need for a complete 
restructuring based on principles of self-government, a culturally relevant 
curriculum, and stable funding. All three reports agree that Aboriginal peoples 
themselves must lead and control the process of change.^64

In October 2013, the government released the text of the proposed First Nations 
Education Act. The bill itself provided no guarantee of increased or stable 
funding of First Nations schools, leaving such matters to be resolved through 
regulations, with no assurance of equity in the distribution of resources to 
educate First Nations children in First Nations schools or in provincial 
schools. In February 2014, the Government of Canada and the Assembly of First 
Nations announced an agreement on a new basis for First Nations education reform 
and legislation. The agreement called for over $2 billion in new funding to 
reserve schools, and replaced the 2% cap on annual increases with a 4.5% annual 
increase and $1.25 billion from 2016–17 to 2018–19. However, after opposition 
from Aboriginal leaders, the proposed legislation was put on hold, pending 
agreement on the principles for a new Act.

Based on all that it has heard from thousands of former students and family 
members throughout the country, the Commission is convinced that such an Act 
must recognize the importance of education in strengthening the cultural 
identity of Aboriginal people and providing a better basis for success. Albert 
Marshall, a former student of the Shubenacadie residential school in Nova 
Scotia, made this point forcefully to the Commission.

	The current education system has been designed to completely eradicate 
	who I am and to kill that Indian Mi’kmaq spirit that’s in me. But I do 
	know I need knowledge and I need education. But the kind of education I 
	need has to be reflective of who I am as a Mi’kmaq. And that knowledge 
	that I get, that I will receive, I have a responsibility with that 
	knowledge to pass it down so others will benefit from it.... The kind of 
	legacy that I want to leave my children in the future generations is one 
	of which they will be able to excel, they will be able to compete 
	without having to worry about is the education system going to further 
	eradicate their selves.^65

	Call to Action

	10) We call upon the federal government to draft new Aboriginal 
	education legislation with the full participation and informed consent 
	of Aboriginal peoples. The new legislation would include a commitment to 
	sufficient funding and would incorporate the following principles: i.  
	Providing sufficient funding to close identified educational achievement 
	gaps within one generation. ii.  Improving education attainment levels 
	and success rates. iii.  Developing culturally appropriate curricula. 
	iv.  Protecting the right to Aboriginal languages, including the 
	teaching of Aboriginal languages as credit courses. v. Enabling parental 
	and community responsibility, control, and accountability, similar to 
	what parents enjoy in public school systems. vi. Enabling parents to 
	fully participate in the education of their children. vii. Respecting 
	and honouring Treaty relationships.
	
	Métis and Inuit education
	-------------------------

Provincial and territorial schools are the only option for Métis students, other 
Aboriginal children without recognized status, and those First Nation and Inuit 
children who do not live on reserves or who do live on reserves but attend 
provincial schools. Their educational outcomes are not significantly better than 
those who attend First Nation schools on reserves or in their home 
communities.^66 Jurisdictional disputes between the federal and provincial 
governments over responsibility for Métis education continue to be a major 
obstacle to ensuring that Métis people have control over the education of their 
young people. The Métis remain without recognized jurisdiction and authority 
even though they have equal protection under Section 35 of the Constitution.^67 
The result is that Métis children generally are educated in public or Catholic 
school systems in which school boards are not specifically held accountable for 
the education needs of Métis children.^68 The Commission believes all levels of 
government should consult with Métis parents, communities, and national 
organizations to provide Métis-specific educational programming.

Inuit students face one of the largest gaps in terms of educational attainment. 
A disproportionately high number of northern parents are residential school 
Survivors or intergenerational Survivors. Inuit are among Canada’s youngest 
citizens, with a median age of twenty-two. In response to the intense needs of 
its young population, Inuit peoples have been leading the way to dramatic 
change. Inuit education is on the cusp of significant transformation, with some 
of the most promising models for self-governing education coming out of northern 
communities. But these changes have not been without obstacles. Some regions 
have a greater capacity to develop the necessary resources than others. A 
shortage of bilingual educators is one of the greatest barriers to expanding 
bilingual education in Inuit schools. There is also a lack of teaching and 
reading materials in Inuit languages.^69

Another major problem is the lack of supports both within and outside the 
education system that are necessary to ensure student success. Inuit educators 
have long recognized that it is important to begin working with children as 
early as possible, but the North lacks good-quality daycare and preschool 
spaces.^70

	Post-secondary education
	------------------------

To help close the income and employment gap, Aboriginal people need increased 
access to post-secondary education. Only 8.7% of First Nations people, 5.1% of 
Inuit, and 11.7% of Métis have a university degree, according to the 2011 
census.^71 The federal auditor general has commented: “In 2004, we noted that at 
existing rates, it would take 28 years for First Nations communities to reach 
the national average. More recent trends suggest that the time needed may be 
still longer.”^72 The barriers to post-secondary education have had profound 
effects. Geraldine Bob attended residential school at Kamloops, British 
Columbia. She told the Commission at a Community Hearing in Fort Simpson, 
Northwest Territories, that poor education and negative experiences at 
residential school delayed her attendance at university and her entry into the 
workforce as a teacher. She suggested that

	the residential school system owes me those lost years. You know, I lost 
	my retirement; I have to keep working, I don’t have a good retirement 
	fund because it was so late when I went to school. And I’ve proven that 
	I can go to university and be successful as a teacher. So … that little 
	tiny bit of Common Experience Payment doesn’t compensate for all that 
	loss.^73

Almost no one with some university or college education who spoke to the 
Commission had been able to obtain that education directly after high school. 
Most, like Geraldine Bob, had lost years to the time it took them to heal enough 
to even consider the possibility of upgrading their schooling.

If access to post-secondary education is to be improved, increasing the rates of 
secondary school completion is an important step. But even for those who qualify 
for a university program, there are significant obstacles. Federal funding for 
post-secondary education suffers from the same 2% funding cap that has been 
imposed on elementary and secondary schools since 1996. The First Nations 
Education Council estimates that there is a backlog of over 10,000 First Nations 
students waiting for post-secondary funding, with an additional $234 million 
required to erase that backlog and meet current demands.^74 The financial 
barriers and other difficulties that Aboriginal people face in attending 
post-secondary institutions deprive the Canadian workforce of the social 
workers, teachers, health-care workers, tradespeople, legal professionals, and 
others who can help address the legacy of residential schools.

	Call to Action

	11) We call upon the federal government to provide adequate funding to 
	end the backlog of First Nations students seeking a post-secondary 
	education.

	Early childhood education programs
	----------------------------------

Aboriginal families continue to suffer from a general lack of early childhood 
education programs. The Assembly of First Nations reported that, according to 
2011 data, 78% of children up to the age of five have no access to licensed 
daycare, let alone to intensive early childhood programs.^75 Such programs are 
vital to support the development of young children and, by extension, address 
some of the deficit in parenting skills that is the legacy of residential 
schools.

	Call to Action

	12) We call upon the federal, provincial, territorial, and Aboriginal 
	governments to develop culturally appropriate early childhood education 
	programs for Aboriginal families.

To close the education and income gaps, there needs to be stable and adequate 
funding of Aboriginal education that takes into account the challenges of the 
legacy of residential schools as well as other challenges faced by Aboriginal 
people. In addition to fair and adequate funding, there is also a need to 
maximize Aboriginal control over Aboriginal education, and to facilitate 
instruction in Aboriginal cultures and languages. These educational measures 
will offer a realistic prospect of reconciliation on the basis of equality and 
respect.

Language and culture
--------------------

In a study of the impact of residential schools, the Assembly of First Nations 
noted in 1994 that

	language is necessary to define and maintain a world view. For this 
	reason, some First Nation elders to this day will say that knowing or 
	learning the native language is basic to any deep understanding of a 
	First Nation way of life, to being a First Nation person. For them, a 
	First Nation world is quite simply not possible without its own 
	language. For them, the impact of residential school silencing their 
	language is equivalent to a residential school silencing their world.^76

The Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples similarly noted the connection 
between Aboriginal languages and what it called a “distinctive world view, 
rooted in the stories of ancestors and the environment.” The Royal Commission 
added that Aboriginal languages are a “tangible emblem of group identity” that 
can provide “the individual a sense of security and continuity with the past ... 
maintenance of the language and group identity has both a social-emotional and a 
spiritual purpose.”^77

Residential schools were a systematic, government-sponsored attempt to destroy 
Aboriginal cultures and languages and to assimilate Aboriginal peoples so that 
they no longer existed as distinct peoples. English and, to a far lesser degree, 
French were the only languages permitted to be used in most schools. Students 
were punished— often severely—for speaking their own languages. Michael Sillett, 
a former student at the North West River residential school in Newfoundland and 
Labrador, told the Commission, “Children at the dorm were not allowed to speak 
their mother tongue. I remember several times when other children were slapped 
or had their mouths washed out for speaking their mother tongue; whether it was 
Inuktitut or Innu-aimun. Residents were admonished for just being Native.”^78 As 
late as the 1970s, students at schools in northwestern Ontario were not allowed 
to speak their language if they were in the presence of a staff member who could 
not understand that language.^79 Conrad Burns, whose father attended the Prince 
Albert school, named this policy for what it was: “It was a cultural genocide. 
People were beaten for their language, people were beaten because ... they 
followed their own ways.”^80

Rights to culture and language, and the need for remedies for their loss, have 
long been recognized in international law.^81 They are specifically acknowledged 
in the United Nations Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, which has 
recognized the critical state of Aboriginal languages. Article 8:1 of the 
Declaration recognizes that “Indigenous peoples and individuals have the right 
not to be subjected to forced assimilation or destruction of their culture.” 
Article 8:2 provides that “states shall provide effective mechanisms for 
prevention of and redress for any form of forced assimilation or integration.”

The Declaration also includes specific recognition of the right to revitalize 
and transmit Aboriginal languages in Article 13:1, which recognizes that 
“Indigenous peoples have the right to revitalize, use, develop and transmit to 
future generations their histories, languages, oral traditions, philosophies, 
writing systems and literatures, and to designate and retain their own names for 
communities, places and persons.” Article 14 provides for educational language 
rights of the type that Canadians already know and experience, with respect to 
anglophone and francophone minorities. Article 14:1 provides similarly that 
“Indigenous peoples have the right to establish and control their educational 
systems and institutions providing education in their own languages, in a manner 
appropriate to their cultural methods of teaching and learning,” and Article 
14:3 provides: “States shall, in conjunction with indigenous peoples, take 
effective measures, in order for indigenous individuals, particularly children, 
including those living outside their communities, to have access, when possible, 
to an education in their own culture and provided in their own language.” 
Article 16 provides that Indigenous peoples “have the right to establish their 
own media in their own languages and to have access to all forms of 
non-indigenous media without discrimination,” and that states “shall take 
effective measures to ensure that State-owned media duly reflect indigenous 
cultural diversity.”^82

The attempt to assimilate students by denying them access to, and respect for, 
their Aboriginal language and culture often meant that the students became 
estranged from their families and communities. Agnes Mills, a former student at 
All Saints residential school in Saskatchewan, told the Commission her story.

	And one of the things that residential school did for me, I really 
	regret, is that it made me ashamed of who I was.... And I wanted to be 
	white so bad, and the worst thing I ever did was I was ashamed of my 
	mother, that honourable woman, because she couldn’t speak English. She 
	never went to school, and they told us that, we used to go home to her 
	on Saturdays, and they told us that we couldn’t talk Gwich’in to her 
	and, and she couldn’t, like couldn’t communicate. And my sister was the 
	one that had the nerve to tell her, “We can’t talk Loucheux to you, they 
	told us not to.”^83

Mary Courchene, formerly a student at the residential schools at Fort Alexander 
in Manitoba and Lebret in Saskatchewan, had a similar interaction with her 
family.

	And I looked at my dad, I looked at my mom, I looked at my dad again. 
	You know what? I hated them. I just absolutely hated my own parents. Not 
	because I thought they abandoned me; I hated their brown faces. I hated 
	them because they were Indians.... So I, I looked at my dad and I 
	challenged him and I said, “From now on we speak only English in this 
	house,” I said to my dad. And you know when we, when, in a traditional 
	home where I was raised, the first thing that we all were always taught 
	was to respect your Elders and never to, you know, to challenge them. 
	And here I was, eleven years old, and I challenged … my dad looked at me 
	and I, and I thought he was going to cry. In fact his eyes filled up 
	with tears. He turned to my mom and he says, … “Then I guess we’ll never 
	speak to this little girl again. I don’t know her.”^84

Some Survivors refused to teach their own children their Aboriginal languages 
and cultures because of the negative stigma that had come to be associated with 
them during their school years. This has contributed significantly to the 
fragile state of Aboriginal languages in Canada today.

Many of the almost ninety surviving Aboriginal languages in Canada are under 
serious threat of extinction. In the 2011 census, 14.5% of the Aboriginal 
population reported that their first language learned was an Aboriginal 
language.^85 In the previous 2006 census, 18% of those who identified as 
Aboriginal had reported an Aboriginal language as their first language learned, 
and a decade earlier, in the 1996 census, the figure was 26%. This indicates 
nearly a 50% drop in the fifteen years since the last residential schools 
closed. There are, however, variations among Aboriginal peoples: 63.7% of Inuit 
speak their Indigenous language, compared with 22.4% of First Nations people and 
only 2.5% of Métis people.^86

Some languages are close to extinction because they have only a few remaining 
speakers of the great-grandparent generation. The United Nations Educational, 
Scientific and Cultural Organization (unesco) lists 36% of Canada’s Aboriginal 
languages as being critically endangered, in the sense that they are used only 
by great-grandparent generations; 18% are severely endangered, in the sense that 
they are used by the great-grandparent and grandparent generations; and 16% are 
definitely endangered, in the sense that they are used by the parental and the 
two previous generations. The remaining languages are all vulnerable.^87 If the 
preservation of Aboriginal languages does not become a priority both for 
governments and for Aboriginal communities, then what the residential schools 
failed to accomplish will come about through a process of systematic neglect.

	Language rights
	---------------

In interpreting Aboriginal and Treaty rights under Section 35(1) of the 
Constitution Act, 1982, the Supreme Court of Canada has stressed the relation of 
those rights to the preservation of distinct Aboriginal cultures.^88 The 
Commission concurs. The preservation of Aboriginal languages is essential and 
must be recognized as a right.

	Call to Action

	13) We call upon the federal government to acknowledge that Aboriginal 
	rights include Aboriginal language rights.

	Government programs
	-------------------

At a time when government funding is most needed to protect Aboriginal languages 
and culture, Canada has not upheld commitments it previously made to fund such 
programs. In 2002, the federal government promised $160 million for the creation 
of a centre for Aboriginal languages and culture and a national language 
strategy.^89 But, in 2006, the government retreated from that commitment, 
pledging instead to spend $5 million per year in “permanent funding” for the 
Aboriginal Languages Initiative (ALI), which had been started in 1998.^90 The 
ALI is a program of government-administered heritage subsidies. It is not based 
on the notion of respectful nation-to-nation relations between Canada and 
Aboriginal peoples. Neither does it provide Aboriginal people with the 
opportunity to make decisions for themselves about how to allocate scarce 
resources and how to administer programs. Many who appeared before the Truth and 
Reconciliation Commission of Canada were skeptical about the government’s 
commitment to preserve Aboriginal languages. As Michael Sillett told us, “I 
cannot see the federal government putting out the money that’s necessary for 
full restitution, you know.... I can’t bring back my language; I lost that. I 
lost my culture, you know.”^91

Other than ALI, the only significant programs for language preservation are the 
Canada-Territorial Language Accords ($4.1 million annual budget), which support 
territorial government-directed Aboriginal language services, supports, and 
community projects in Nunavut and the Northwest Territories. In Yukon, language 
revitalization and preservation projects are supported through transfer 
agreements with ten of the eleven self-governing Yukon First Nations.^92

The combined total annual federal budget for these Aboriginal languages programs 
is $9.1 million. By way of comparison, the Official Languages Program for 
English and French is projected to receive funding as follows:

	- 2012–13: $353.3 million 
	- 2013–14: $348.2 million 
	- 2014–15: $348.2 million.^93

The resources committed to Aboriginal language programs are far fewer than what 
is committed to French in areas where French speakers are in the minority. For 
example, the federal government provides support to the small minority of 
francophones in Nunavut in the amount of approximately $4,000 per individual 
annually. In contrast, funding to support Inuit-language initiatives is 
estimated at $44 per Inuk per year.^94

The Commission believes that a multi-pronged approach to Aboriginal language 
preservation—if implemented, honourably resourced, and sustained— might prevent 
further increase in the litigation of Aboriginal language rights, and the 
increased international criticism of Canada’s policy towards Aboriginal-language 
rights. This approach will require full, good-faith consultation, which 
recognizes that although Aboriginal communities have the necessary knowledge, 
particularly among their Elders, to preserve their own languages, additional 
support is needed. The outcome of the consultation should be legislation and 
policies that affirm the importance of Canada’s Indigenous languages, and 
allocate adequate funding to ensure their preservation.

	Calls to Action

	14) We call upon the federal government to enact an Aboriginal Languages 
	Act that incorporates the following principles: 
		i. Aboriginal languages are a fundamental and valued element of 
	Canadian culture and society, and there is an urgency to preserve them.
		ii. Aboriginal language rights are reinforced by the Treaties.
		iii.  The federal government has a responsibility to provide 
	sufficient funds for Aboriginal-language revitalization and 
	preservation.
		iv.  The preservation, revitalization, and strengthening of 
	Aboriginal languages and cultures are best managed by Aboriginal people 
	and communities.
		v.  Funding for Aboriginal language initiatives must reflect the 
	diversity of Aboriginal languages.
	
	15) We call upon the federal government to appoint, in consultation with 
	Aboriginal groups, an Aboriginal Languages Commissioner. The 
	commissioner should help promote Aboriginal languages and report on the 
	adequacy of federal funding of Aboriginal-languages initiatives.

In addition to promoting the use of Aboriginal languages, an Aboriginal 
Languages Commissioner would also educate non-Aboriginal Canadians about the 
richness and value of Aboriginal languages and how strengthening those languages 
can enhance Canada’s international reputation.

Aboriginal people recognize how important it is for their children to speak and 
understand an Aboriginal language. Sabrina Williams, an intergenerational 
Survivor from British Columbia, expressed that need.

	I didn’t realize until taking this language class how much we have 
	lost—all the things that are attached to language: it’s family 
	connections, it’s oral history, it’s traditions, it’s ways of being, 
	it’s ways of knowing, it’s medicine, it’s song, it’s dance, it’s memory. 
	It’s everything, including the land.… And unless we inspire our kids to 
	love our culture, to love our language ... our languages are continually 
	going to be eroded over time. So, that is daunting. Yeah. So, to me 
	that’s part of what reconciliation looks like.^95

Language instruction may require innovative approaches, including the use of 
Elders and others as teachers and the use of immersion programs. Education 
institutions must be flexible and responsive in their attempts to encourage the 
teaching of Aboriginal languages. They should be prepared to draw on the 
available resources within Aboriginal communities to facilitate the teaching and 
transmission of Aboriginal languages. More formal training opportunities are 
also required.

	Call to Action

	16) We call upon post-secondary institutions to create university and 
	college degree and diploma programs in Aboriginal languages.

	Reclaiming names
	----------------

As a result of the residential school experience, many Aboriginal people lost 
their language and lost touch with their culture. Many also suffered a loss of a 
different sort. It was common for residential school officials to give students 
new names. At the Aklavik Anglican school in the Northwest Territories, a young 
Inuit girl named Masak became “Alice”—she would not hear her old name until she 
returned home.^96 At the Qu’Appelle school in Saskatchewan, Ochankugahe (Path 
Maker) became Daniel Kennedy, named for the biblical Daniel, and Adélard 
Standing Buffalo was named for Adélard Langevin, the Archbishop of St. 
Boniface.^97 Survivors and their families who have sought to reclaim the names 
that were taken from them in residential schools have found the process to be 
both expensive and time consuming. We believe that measures should be put in 
place to reduce the burden placed on those who seek to reclaim this significant 
portion of their heritage.

	Call to Action

	17) We call upon all levels of government to enable residential school 
	Survivors and their families to reclaim names changed by the residential 
	school system by waiving administrative costs for a period of five years 
	for the name-change process and the revision of official identity 
	documents, such as birth certificates, passports, driver’s licenses, 
	health cards, status cards, and social insurance numbers.
	
Health
======

Residential schools endangered the health and well-being of the children who 
attended them. Many students succumbed to infectious disease, particularly 
tuberculosis. Sexual and physical abuse, as well as separation from families and 
communities, caused lasting trauma for many others. The effects of this trauma 
were often passed on to the children of the residential school Survivors and 
sometimes to their grandchildren. Residential schools also posed a threat to the 
mental health of students through the pervasive assumptions and assertions they 
made about the inferiority of Aboriginal peoples, cultures, and languages. This 
disregard for Aboriginal health and well-being was consistent with the 
long-established patterns of colonialism: the introduction of new diseases, the 
disruption of traditional food sources, and the concentration of people on 
unproductive land and the housing of them in cramped, unsanitary dwellings.

The schools undermined Aboriginal health by failing to feed and clothe the 
children properly and housing them in poorly constructed and dangerous 
buildings. The schools did not properly screen out sick and infectious children, 
and often lacked adequate treatment facilities. As Ruby Firth, a former student 
at Stringer Hall in the Northwest Territories, told the Commission, those 
conditions had a lasting effect.

	I’ve got chronic bronchitis today. Every winter I get pneumonia like two 
	or three times and I’m on two puffers ’cause when I was in Stringer Hall 
	residential school they used to put us in these little skinny red coats 
	that weren’t even warm enough for winter. And we used to have to walk 
	across the street to go to school.… Both my lungs are 50% scarred from 
	having pneumonia seven times in [residential school]. That’s always 
	going to be there, it’s never going to go away.^98

There were also lasting psychological and emotional impacts. Sonia Wuttunee-Byrd 
described the damage that residential school caused her.

	I lost my braids, my beautiful hair was cut, and I felt like my identity 
	was so confused, I didn’t know who I was. What is even worse is that 
	they started to sexually take advantage of me and abuse me, not one, not 
	two, but many, many people for a very long time, until I was sixteen. I 
	started to really deteriorate. I became very sick and anorexic, and 
	really started to go downhill. At one point I only weighed sixty-six 
	pounds, and that was it, I had no desire to live. The doctor said, “You 
	have a month to live, go home.” He said to my family, “Take her home, 
	she is going to die.”… I would say to Mom and Dad, and they never 
	understood why I was crying. The school always said, “Sonia is a 
	fantastic student, she is doing so well,” but inside it was torment. I 
	held everything in and didn’t tell anybody for twenty years.^99

Katherine Copenace, a former student at the St. Mary’s residential school in 
Ontario, told the Commission about her struggles.

	The residential school students suffered physical, sexual, spiritual, 
	and most of all emotional abuse and my dad used to say to me, “Emotional 
	abuse is more damaging than physical abuse. Your physical hurts heal.” 
	That’s what he used to say. When I got older, I had thoughts of suicide, 
	inflicting pain on myself which I did. I used to slash my arms, pierce 
	my arms, my body and I destroyed myself with alcohol which the 
	government introduced of course.^100

The children in residential schools were powerless to take healing measures. 
They were denied access to traditional foods and to families, traditional 
healers, and communities who could have helped them, according to Aboriginal 
ways, to deal with the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual elements of 
ill health. Because of the isolated location of many of the schools, students 
were also often denied access to ‘Western’ doctors and nurses. This double 
denial of health care, based in government policy, continues to this day, due to 
the relative isolation of many Aboriginal communities, many of which have no 
road access, and limited access to local health resources.

Health care is a right enshrined in international and constitutional law as well 
as in Treaties. The United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous 
Peoples recognizes that Indigenous peoples have the right to physical and mental 
integrity, as well as the right to equal enjoyment of the highest attainable 
standard of physical and mental health. In taking measures to achieve these 
goals, states are obligated to pay particular attention to the rights and 
special needs of Elders, women, youth, children, and persons with 
disabilities.^101 Indigenous peoples have the right to be actively involved in 
developing, determining, and administering health programs that affect them.^102 
Indigenous peoples also have the right to traditional medicines and to maintain 
their traditional health practices.^103

The Numbered Treaties also established additional legal obligations concerning 
Aboriginal health and wellness.^104 The right to medical care was recognized in 
Treaties 6, 7, 8, 10, and 11.^105 Treaty 6 explicitly included provision of a 
“medicine chest” and relief from “pestilence.”^106 However, the right to health 
is not limited to these Treaties. The Treaty negotiations included many 
references to the protection of, and non-interference with, traditional ways of 
life.^107

	Call to Action

	18) We call upon the federal, provincial, territorial, and Aboriginal 
	governments to acknowledge that the current state of Aboriginal health 
	in Canada is a direct result of previous Canadian government policies, 
	including residential schools, and to recognize and implement the 
	health-care rights of Aboriginal people as identified in international 
	law and constitutional law, and under the Treaties.

	The health gap
	--------------

There are troubling gaps in health outcomes between Aboriginal and 
non-Aboriginal Canadians. For example:

	- The infant mortality rates for First Nations and Inuit children range 
	from 1.7 to over 4 times the non-Aboriginal rate.^108 
	
	- From 2004 to 2008, the “age-specific mortality rate” at ages one to 
	nineteen in the Inuit homelands was 188.0 deaths per 100,000 
	person-years at risk, compared with only 35.3 deaths per 100,000 in the 
	rest of Canada.^109
	
	- First Nations people aged forty-five and older have nearly twice the 
	rate of diabetes as the non-Aboriginal population.^110
	
	- First Nations people were six times more likely than the general 
	population to suffer alcohol-related deaths, and more than three times 
	more likely to suffer drug-induced deaths.^111

The overall suicide rate among First Nation communities is about twice that of 
the total Canadian population. For Inuit, the rate is still higher: six to 
eleven times the rate for the general population. Aboriginal youth between the 
ages of ten and twenty-nine who are living on reserves are five to six times 
more likely to die by suicide than non-Aboriginal youth.^112

	Measuring progress
	------------------

Obtaining precise information on the state of health of Aboriginal people in 
Canada is difficult. The most complete information about comparative health 
outcomes is out of date, much of it coming from the 1990s. Unlike in other 
countries, the Canadian government has not provided a comprehensive list of 
well-being indicators comparing Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal populations. The 
lack of accessible data on comparable health indicators means that these issues 
receive less public, media, and political attention. In Australia, the 
government has set a timeline for closing the gap in health outcomes between 
Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal citizens. The Australian prime minister reports 
annually on the progress being made to close the gaps in targets related to life 
expectancy and mortality rates for Indigenous children.^113 Canada must do 
likewise.

	Call to Action

	19) We call upon the federal government, in consultation with Aboriginal 
	peoples, to establish measurable goals to identify and close the gaps in 
	health outcomes between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal communities, and 
	to publish annual progress reports and assess long-term trends. Such 
	efforts would focus on indicators such as: infant mortality, maternal 
	health, suicide, mental health, addictions, life expectancy, birth 
	rates, infant and child health issues, chronic diseases, illness and 
	injury incidence, and the availability of appropriate health services.

In 2003, the First Ministers’ Accord on Health Care Renewal recognized the 
obvious: that Aboriginal peoples face serious health challenges. The accord 
committed to making the reduction of the gap in health status between Aboriginal 
and non-Aboriginal peoples a national priority. More than a decade later, that 
gap remains. In fact, the federal government has moved backwards on issues of 
Aboriginal health since the signing of the Indian Residential Schools Settlement 
Agreement and Canada’s apology to Survivors. It has terminated funding to a 
number of Aboriginal health organizations, including the Aboriginal Healing 
Foundation and the National Aboriginal Health Organization. These organizations 
were committed to models of research and treatment in which Aboriginal 
communities have ownership, control, access, and possession. Their loss 
significantly limits the development of accurate information about health issues 
and solutions under Aboriginal control. Health Canada has also cut funding for a 
number of Aboriginal primary health programs, including programs that address 
diabetes, fetal alcohol spectrum disorder, youth suicide, infectious diseases, 
and maternal and child health.^114 These cuts have had a serious impact on 
Aboriginal communities.

Trudy King, a former student at Grandin College residential school, is from Fort 
Resolution in the Northwest Territories.

	When I lost my son here in 2003, I needed counselling for me and my 
	children. I couldn’t get help here anywhere. There was the health and 
	social services coordinator here that I begged and begged to help us, 
	and she said, “There’s no monies. We don’t have monies to get 
	counselling for you and your kids.” I couldn’t go anywhere. Nobody would 
	help us, and, and I didn’t, and it was in 2003. There has to be help out 
	there for people that want, are crying for help. I couldn’t get it. My 
	kids couldn’t get it.^115

A former student at Guy Hill residential school in Manitoba, M. R. E. Linklater, 
also emphasized the need for more community-based services when she spoke with 
the Commission.

	More programs should be put on for our children and our grandchildren 
	and our great-grandchildren ’cause they need to understand why their 
	parents are the way they are. Why so many of our people are so into 
	alcohol and drug addiction, and for myself, I know why, it’s to survive 
	or not to go back there. Our children need more education, support, more 
	programs, not to cut the programs that they have in place.^116

Health reforms often involve Aboriginal people in complex jurisdictional 
disputes and tripartite negotiations with both the federal and provincial or 
territorial governments. Such jurisdictional disputes have particularly affected 
Métis, non-status, and urban Aboriginal people, as the federal government 
insists that providing services to these groups is a provincial and territorial 
responsibility.

	Call to Action

	20) In order to address the jurisdictional disputes concerning 
	Aboriginal people who do not reside on reserves, we call upon the 
	federal government to recognize, respect, and address the distinct 
	health needs of the Métis, Inuit, and off-reserve Aboriginal peoples.

	Aboriginal healing practices
	----------------------------

Aboriginal health practices and beliefs, like Aboriginal peoples themselves, are 
diverse. However, an holistic approach to health is common to many Aboriginal 
cultures and has also been increasingly validated by ‘Western’ medicine. A 
belief shared among many Inuit, Métis, and First Nation people is that a sacred 
connection exists among people, the Earth, and everything above it, upon it, and 
within it. For purposes of healing, this means activities such as “on-the-land” 
or “bush” healing camps where participants can experience the healing power of 
the natural world. Traditional practices can also include sweat lodges, cedar 
baths, smudging, the lighting of the Qulliq (a stone lamp used by the Inuit for 
ceremonial purposes), and other spiritual ceremonies.^117 Best practices for 
Aboriginal wellness involve a range of services from mainstream health care to 
traditional practices and medicines, all under community leadership and control. 
Such an integrated approach has the power to improve the lives of all community 
members.

	Calls to Action

	21) We call upon the federal government to provide sustainable funding 
	for existing and new Aboriginal healing centres to address the physical, 
	mental, emotional, and spiritual harms caused by residential schools, 
	and to ensure that the funding of healing centres in Nunavut and the 
	Northwest Territories is a priority. 22) We call upon those who can 
	effect change within the Canadian health-care system to recognize the 
	value of Aboriginal healing practices and use them in the treatment of 
	Aboriginal patients in collaboration with Aboriginal healers and Elders 
	where requested by Aboriginal patients.

Overcoming the health legacy of the residential schools will require a long-term 
investment in Aboriginal communities, so that communities can revive their 
capacity to heal themselves. One key investment will be the training of more 
Aboriginal health and social service professionals. The work that Health 
Canada’s community cultural and traditional knowledge healing team members did 
in support of this Commission and other Settlement Agreement processes is but 
one example of the invaluable service these professionals can provide.

	Call to Action

	23) We call upon all levels of government to: i. Increase the number of 
	Aboriginal professionals working in the healthcare field. ii. Ensure the 
	retention of Aboriginal health-care providers in Aboriginal communities. 
	iii. Provide cultural competency training for all health-care 
	professionals.

Closing the gap in health outcomes will come about only as part of a 
comprehensive strategy of change. To be more effective in improving health 
outcomes, non-Aboriginal medical practitioners must develop a better 
understanding of the health issues facing Canada’s Aboriginal peoples and of the 
legacy of residential schools.

	Call to Action

	24) We call upon medical and nursing schools in Canada to require all 
	students to take a course dealing with Aboriginal health issues, 
	including the history and legacy of residential schools, the United 
	Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, Treaties and 
	Aboriginal rights, and Indigenous teachings and practices. This will 
	require skills-based training in intercultural competency, conflict 
	resolution, human rights, and anti-racism.

Justice
-------

Residential schools inflicted profound injustices on Aboriginal people. 
Aboriginal parents were forced, often under pressure from the police, to give up 
their children to the schools. Children were taken far from their communities to 
live in frightening custodial institutions, which felt like prisons. The 
children who attended residential schools were often treated as if they were 
offenders and were often victimized.

This pattern of disproportionate imprisonment and victimization of Aboriginal 
people continues to this day. The continued failure of the justice system denies 
Aboriginal people the safety and opportunities that most Canadians take for 
granted. Redress to the racist and colonial views that inspired the schools, and 
effective and long-term solutions to the crime problems that plague too many 
Aboriginal communities, call for increased use of Aboriginal justice, based on 
Aboriginal laws and healing practices.

To understand the full legacy of the harms of the schools, it is important to 
examine how the Canadian legal system responded to residential school abuse. 
Relatively few prosecutions for abuse resulted from police investigations. In 
some cases, the federal government actually compromised these investigations—and 
the independence of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP)—to defend its own 
position in civil cases brought against it by residential school Survivors.

	RCMP independence compromised
	-----------------------------

In late 1994, the RCMP established the E Division Task Force to investigate 
allegations of abuse in British Columbia residential schools. There is evidence, 
however, that RCMP investigations into abuse were adversely influenced by the 
federal government’s strategic interests in defending itself in the many civil 
lawsuits commenced by former students. For example, the government demanded that 
the RCMP hand over its investigation files related to abuse at the Kuper Island 
school. Despite some initial objections, the RCMP eventually did turn over the 
files.^118 This was done without due regard for the privacy rights of the 
complainants in the case, and, in effect, gave the government an advantage in 
defending itself. When the police force requested the return of these files, the 
government declined, and then further refused to disclose the information it had 
received to the Survivors who had brought the civil lawsuits.^119

Affidavits filed by RCMP officers suggest that the federal government’s interest 
in defending itself in civil litigation interfered with police investigations 
into crimes committed at the residential schools. Although a judge eventually 
ordered that Survivors should have the same access to RCMP criminal 
investigation material regarding offences at the Kuper Island school as the 
government, the whole affair meant Survivors could reasonably conclude that the 
RCMP was acting as an agent of the federal government, rather than as an 
impartial enforcer of the law.^120

	Call to Action

	25) We call upon the federal government to establish a written policy 
	that reaffirms the independence of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police to 
	investigate crimes in which the government has its own interest as a 
	potential or real party in civil litigation.

	Unnecessary insistence on corroboration
	---------------------------------------

The RCMP E Division Task Force final report notes that “a very common situation 
that kept occurring over and over again” was that Crown counsel refused to 
prosecute without corroboration in the form of physical evidence.^121 This 
approach was based on an unwillingness to take the complainant’s own evidence as 
sufficient to justify a prosecution. It betrays an unwillingness to take the 
evidence of Aboriginal people as being worthy of belief. At best, the refusal to 
prosecute without corroboration was based on a belief that the denial of any 
accused person who occupied a position of authority at the schools would be 
sufficient to create a reasonable doubt about guilt.

Since 1982, the requirement for corroboration was specifically dropped for 
sexual offences, and it was never required for non-sexual offences.^122 The 
Commission is concerned that a continued insistence on corroboration has 
resulted in discriminatory treatment of Aboriginal victims.

	Few criminal prosecutions
	-------------------------

The Commission has been able to identify fewer than fifty convictions stemming 
from allegations of abuse at residential schools. This figure is insignificant 
compared with the nearly 38,000 claims of sexual and serious physical abuse that 
were submitted as part of the Independent Assessment Process (IAP), set up under 
the Settlement Agreement.^123

Although there were not many prosecutions for sexual abuse, there were even 
fewer charges of physical abuse brought against former school staff. The RCMP’s 
own report suggests that the E Division Task Force viewed physical assaults 
against Aboriginal children as being less serious than sexual abuse. The RCMP 
attributed complaints by former students about assaults as evidence of a 
“culture clash between the rigid, ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ Christian 
attitude, and the more permissive Native tradition of child-rearing.”^124 This 
preconception undoubtedly affected the number of prosecutions that occurred for 
physical abuse at the schools.

	Civil litigation
	----------------

Having generally failed to find justice through police investigations and 
criminal prosecutions, residential school Survivors increasingly turned to the 
civil justice system in the 1990s, bringing lawsuits against abusers as well as 
the federal government and the churches that operated the schools. The Canadian 
legal system, however, was prepared to consider only some of the harms that the 
Survivors suffered—generally, those harms caused by sexual and sometimes 
physical abuse. It refused to consider on the merits the Survivors’ claims 
relating to loss of language, culture, family attachment, and violation of 
Treaty rights to education. The Canadian legal system refused to consider the 
claims that Survivors brought on behalf of their parents and their children. It 
also refused to provide remedies for the collective harms that residential 
schools caused to Aboriginal nations and communities.

Residential school litigation has been extremely complex, expensive, and 
lengthy. It has been especially difficult for the Survivors, many of whom were 
revictimized through explicit questioning and adversarial treatment by the 
Government of Canada, the churches, and even their own lawyers.

	Limitation periods
	------------------

Within the Canadian justice system, complainants in civil proceedings have a 
limited period of time in which to file suit. If they wait too long after the 
harm they have suffered, they may not be allowed to pursue their claim because 
of a provincial statute of limitation. Although statutes of limitation can 
protect defendants in civil lawsuits, they can also have the effect of denying 
plaintiffs the opportunity to have the truth of their allegation determined in 
court. This is most dramatically true for child victims, who have neither the 
means nor the knowledge to pursue claims of harm until much later, when the time 
period for a claim may very well have run out.

A statute of limitation defence has to be raised by the defendant. In its 2000 
report on responding to child abuse in institutions, the Law Commission of 
Canada recommended that the federal government should not rely solely on statute 
of limitation defences.^125 Nevertheless, the Government of Canada and the 
churches have frequently and successfully raised these defences in residential 
school litigation. The Commission believes that the federal government’s 
successful use of statute of limitation defences has meant that Canadian courts 
and Canadians in general have considered only a small part of the harms of 
residential schools, mostly those caused by sexual abuse. Some provinces have 
amended their limitation statutes to enable civil prosecutions for a wider range 
of offences. We urge others to follow suit.

	Call to Action

	26) We call upon the federal, provincial, and territorial governments to 
	review and amend their respective statutes of limitations to ensure that 
	they conform with the principle that governments and other entities 
	cannot rely on limitation defences to defend legal actions of historical 
	abuse brought by Aboriginal people.
	
	Educating lawyers
	-----------------

The criminal prosecution of abusers in residential schools and the subsequent 
civil lawsuits were a difficult experience for Survivors. The courtroom 
experience was made worse by the fact that many lawyers did not have adequate 
cultural, historical, or psychological knowledge to deal with the painful 
memories that the Survivors were forced to reveal. The lack of sensitivity that 
lawyers often demonstrated in dealing with residential school Survivors 
resulted, in some cases, in the Survivors’ not receiving appropriate legal 
service. These experiences prove the need for lawyers to develop a greater 
understanding of Aboriginal history and culture as well as the multi-faceted 
legacy of residential schools.

	Calls to Action

	27) We call upon the Federation of Law Societies of Canada to ensure 
	that lawyers receive appropriate cultural competency training, which 
	includes the history and legacy of residential schools, the United 
	Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, Treaties and 
	Aboriginal rights, Indigenous law, and Aboriginal–Crown relations. This 
	will require skills-based training in intercultural competency, conflict 
	resolution, human rights, and anti-racism. 28) We call upon law schools 
	in Canada to require all law students to take a course in Aboriginal 
	people and the law, which includes the history and legacy of residential 
	schools, the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous 
	Peoples, Treaties and Aboriginal rights, Indigenous law, and 
	Aboriginal–Crown relations. This will require skills-based training in 
	intercultural competency, conflict resolution, human rights, and 
	anti-racism.

	Aftermath of the Settlement Agreement
	-------------------------------------

During the 1990s, the number of civil lawsuits against Canada and the churches 
that ran the schools steadily increased. Many of these claims were combined into 
class actions that were certified by provincial courts. In May 2005, the 
Government of Canada appointed former Supreme Court Justice Frank Iacobucci as 
its chief negotiator to help reach a settlement agreement among the many parties 
involved in litigation: representatives from Aboriginal communities, church 
groups, the federal government, and Survivors represented by various law firms. 
The parties reached an agreement in principle in November 2005. The details of 
the Indian Residential Schools Settlement Agreement were finalized and approved 
by the federal cabinet on May 10, 2006.  The thousands of legal claims made 
against the federal government and the churches were concluded and settled under 
the terms of the Settlement Agreement.^126

Because the Settlement Agreement would involve the termination of a number of 
class-action proceedings that the courts had already authorized, it was 
necessary for courts in most provinces and territories to consider whether the 
Settlement Agreement was a fair resolution of the claims and, in particular, 
whether it adequately protected the interests of all the class members.

The Settlement Agreement included a Common Experience Payment (CEP) for everyone 
who attended one of the residential schools listed in the Agreement. In addition 
to the CEP, an Independent Assessment Process (IAP) was established to pay 
compensation to those who suffered sexual or serious physical assaults, such as 
severe beating, whipping, and second-degree burning, at the schools. The process 
also included compensation for assaults by other students if they were the 
result of a lack of reasonable supervision.

The IAP was designed to be an easier process for complainants than litigation. 
Hearings are held in private with cultural supports for the claimants and health 
supports provided by Health Canada. In contrast to the protracted nature of much 
civil litigation, hearings are supposed to be held within nine months, with 
decisions due shortly after the hearings.

In their statements to the Commission, some Survivors have expressed concerns 
about the IAP abuse hearing process because it did not allow them to face their 
abusers directly. Bernard Catcheway, a former student at Pine Creek residential 
school in Manitoba, told the Commission,

	You know and [my abuser’s] still alive. I think she’s eighty-nine years 
	old according to when I went to my hearing three years ago. I wanted her 
	so badly to come to that hearing, you know, but because of her age and 
	because of her, I guess, incompetency, you know, she chose not to be 
	there. I would have loved for her to, to meet her at that time, to 
	basically say I, you know, to say whatever it was that made her do 
	things to us, I was going to say, “I forgive you.” But I never got a 
	chance to say that.^127

Other claimants, such as Amelia Galligos-Thomas, a former student at Sechelt 
residential school in British Columbia, criticized the IAP’s delay in hearing 
and settling claims.

	I’ve been waiting five years now for my appeal, and it hasn’t happened 
	yet. And it’s almost time for them to stop giving the money out to us. 
	And they opened up all our wounds, for what? To turn us all down? And 
	some people are dying…. My sister’s doing drugs, like, ’cause she’s 
	tired of waiting. She’s living on the streets. So, so, why did they do 
	this to us, again? They hurt us again. They shouldn’t go back on their 
	word to us. They already hurt us. Stop hurting us.^128

	Exclusions from the Settlement
	------------------------------

Not all Survivors of residential school abuse were included in the Settlement 
Agreement. For example, day school students, many Métis students, and pupils 
from schools in Newfoundland and Labrador have been excluded, as have students 
who attended government-funded schools that were not identified as residential 
schools. These exclusions have led to new civil lawsuits against the government. 
The Commission urges all parties to seek expedited means of resolving this 
litigation.

	Call to Action

	29) We call upon the parties and, in particular, the federal government, 
	to work collaboratively with plaintiffs not included in the Indian 
	Residential Schools Settlement Agreement to have disputed legal issues 
	determined expeditiously on an agreed set of facts.

	Overrepresentation of Aboriginal people in prison
	-------------------------------------------------

The dramatic overrepresentation of Aboriginal people in Canada’s prison system 
continues to expand. In 1995–96, Aboriginal people made up 16% of all those 
sentenced to custody. By 2011–12, that number had grown to 28% of all admissions 
to sentenced custody, even though Aboriginal people make up only 4% of the 
Canadian adult population.^129 The situation of women is even more 
disproportionate: in 2011– 12, 43% of admissions of women to sentenced custody 
were Aboriginal.^130

The causes of the over-incarceration of Aboriginal people are complex. The 
convictions of Aboriginal offenders frequently result from an interplay of 
factors, including the intergenerational legacy of residential schools. 
Aboriginal overrepresentation in prison reflects a systemic bias in the Canadian 
justice system. Once Aboriginal persons are arrested, prosecuted, and convicted, 
they are more likely to be sentenced to prison than non-Aboriginal people. In 
2011–12, Aboriginal people made up 21% of those who received probation or 
conditional sentences (under which a defendant is found guilty but allowed to 
remain in the community).^131

Parliament has recently passed legislation to prescribe mandatory minimum 
sentences of imprisonment for certain offences. Judges are required to impose 
these mandatory minimums. Additional restrictions have also been placed on 
community sanctions. These decisions have further contributed to the 
over-incarceration of Aboriginal people in prison. It is assumed that locking up 
offenders makes communities safer, but there is no evidence to demonstrate that 
this is indeed the case. There are concerns that Aboriginal people are not 
receiving culturally appropriate rehabilitative programs in federal prisons, and 
they are even less likely to have access to such programs in provincial 
correctional institutions for those people serving sentences of less than two 
years.

Violence and criminal offending are not inherent in Aboriginal people. They 
result from very specific experiences that Aboriginal people have endured, 
including the intergenerational legacy of residential schools. It should not be 
surprising that those who experienced and witnessed very serious violence 
against Aboriginal children in the schools frequently became accustomed to 
violence in later life. One intergenerational Survivor recalled that her mother

	never talked about it very much or never expressed it. And she was very 
	quiet, and she had issues with alcohol, and I saw that, and that was 
	basically the only time that she was really aggressive I guess is during 
	those times when she drank…. And my father was also very aggressive. It 
	was a very violent home actually. My brothers used to fight each other, 
	and my brothers would fight my dad, and my mom and my dad would fight, 
	and a lot of violence in the home, actually to the point where my 
	brother, my oldest brother, killed my, one of our other brothers in the 
	home ... when I was nine, and I saw the whole thing.^132

The Commission heard numerous accounts of the hardships experienced by former 
residential school students who became involved with the justice system. For 
many, there were painful parallels between their time in school and their time 
in jail. For Daniel Andre, the road from Grollier Hall in Inuvik in the 
Northwest Territories led, inevitably, to jail.

	I knew that I needed help to get rid of what happened to me in 
	residential school. Like, everywhere I went, everything I did, all the 
	jobs I had, all the towns I lived in, all the people I met, always 
	brought me back to, to being in residential school, and being 
	humiliated, and beaten, and ridiculed, and told I was a piece of 
	garbage, I was not good enough, I was, like, a dog.... So, one of the 
	scariest things for me being in jail is being humiliated in front of 
	everybody, being made, laughed at, and which they do often ’cause 
	they’re just, like, that’s just the way they are. And a lot of them are, 
	like, survival of the fittest. And, like, if you show weakness, they’ll, 
	they’ll just pick on you even more and … I had to, to survive. I had to 
	be strong enough to survive. I had to, I had to build up a system where 
	I became a jerk. I became a bad person. I became an asshole. But I 
	survived, and learnt all those things to survive.^133

It should not be surprising that those who were sexually abused in the schools 
as children sometimes perpetuated sexual violence later in their lives. It 
should not be surprising that those who were taken from their parents and 
exposed to harsh and regimented discipline in the schools and disparagement of 
their culture and families often became poor and sometimes violent parents later 
in their lives. It should not be surprising that those who were exposed to poor 
education and to spiritual and cultural abuse in the schools later turned to 
alcohol and drugs as a means to cope and try to forget. The consequences for 
many students and their families were tragic.

Grace Campbell is an intergenerational Survivor.

	When I was drinking a lot of things happened to me … I had to do things 
	and a lot of times I just about got killed and then, I thought it was 
	easy. Easy drinking, easy to get the way I was living and I didn’t like 
	it. I was selling my body and I didn’t like it. At the time I didn’t 
	know it but when I look back, some of those creeps I hung with, men and 
	guns and everything, like you know. I was losing my drinking buddies 
	though; they were being murdered and dying.^134

Action is required now to overcome the legacy of residential schools that has 
played a major role in the over-incarceration of Aboriginal people.

	Call to Action

	30) We call upon federal, provincial, and territorial governments to 
	commit to eliminating the overrepresentation of Aboriginal people in 
	custody over the next decade, and to issue detailed annual reports that 
	monitor and evaluate progress in doing so.

	Community programs
	------------------

In 1996, Parliament legislated principles that would allow offenders who might 
otherwise be imprisoned to serve their sentences in the community. A centrepiece 
of these reforms was Section 718.2(e) of the Criminal Code, which instructs 
judges that “all available sanctions other than imprisonment that are reasonable 
in the circumstances should be considered for all offenders, with particular 
attention to the circumstances of aboriginal offenders.”^135

In 1999, in R. v. Gladue, the Supreme Court stated that Section 718.2(e) of the 
Criminal Code was enacted in response to alarming evidence that Aboriginal 
peoples were incarcerated disproportionately to non-Aboriginal people in 
Canada.^136 The court stressed that this section is a remedial provision, 
enacted specifically to oblige the judiciary to make special efforts to find 
reasonable alternatives to imprisonment for Aboriginal offenders and to take 
into account the background and systemic factors that bring Aboriginal people 
into contact with the justice system.^137

In some jurisdictions, the Gladue decision has resulted in the production of 
more extensive pre-sentence, or “Gladue,” reports that detail the background and 
contextual circumstances of Aboriginal offenders. These reports help inform 
judges’ sentencing decisions and are meant to encourage alternative options to 
incarceration. However, bringing these reports to court has not been without 
difficulty and controversy. Some jurisdictions provide few resources for the 
intensive, specialized, and culturally sensitive work that is necessary to 
produce an adequate Gladue report, despite the clear mandate given by the 
Supreme Court.^138

In 2012, the Supreme Court revisited and reaffirmed Gladue. In R. v. Ipeelee, 
the Supreme Court pointed out that some judges had erred in their application of 
Gladue by concluding that it did not apply to serious offences or that it 
required an offender to demonstrate a causal connection between the commission 
of the crime and the legacy of residential schools or other background or 
contextual factors that help explain why an Aboriginal offender is before the 
courts.^139

Even if excellent Gladue reports were prepared from coast to coast, they would 
still fail to make a difference in the amount of Aboriginal overrepresentation 
in the prison system without the addition of realistic alternatives to 
imprisonment, including adequate resources for intensive community programs that 
can respond to the conditions that caused Aboriginal offending.

	Call to Action:

	31) We call upon the federal, provincial, and territorial governments to 
	provide sufficient and stable funding to implement and evaluate 
	community sanctions that will provide realistic alternatives to 
	imprisonment for Aboriginal offenders and respond to the underlying 
	causes of offending.

A failure to provide sufficient and stable resources for the community and 
treatment programs that are necessary to implement Gladue and Ipeelee helps 
explain why those decisions have not slowed increasing Aboriginal 
overrepresentation in prison. In addition to these significant challenges, there 
are now new barriers to implementing effective and just alternative sentences 
for Aboriginal offenders.

	Mandatory minimum sentences
	---------------------------

One of the most dramatic examples of the trend towards mandatory minimum 
sentence is the Safe Streets and Communities Act (Bill C-10), which came into 
force in 2012. The Act specifies minimum sentences that judges must impose for 
certain crimes. As a result of the new legislation, certain offences are no 
longer eligible for a conditional sentence.^140

Bill C-10 and other similar Criminal Code amendments have undermined the 1996 
reforms that required judges to consider all reasonable alternatives to 
imprisonment, with particular attention to the circumstances of Aboriginal 
offenders. The Commission believes that the recent introduction of mandatory 
minimum sentences and restrictions on conditional sentences will increase 
Aboriginal overrepresentation in prison. Such developments are preventing judges 
from implementing community sanctions even when they are consistent with the 
safety of the community and even when they have a much greater potential than 
imprisonment to respond to the intergenerational legacy of residential schools 
that often results in offences by Aboriginal persons.^141

	Call to Action

	32) We call upon the federal government to amend the Criminal Code to 
	allow trial judges, upon giving reasons, to depart from mandatory 
	minimum sentences and restrictions on the use of conditional sentences.

	Offenders with FASD
	-------------------

There is another link between the substance abuse that has plagued many 
residential school Survivors and the over-incarceration of Aboriginal people. 
Fetal alcohol spectrum disorder (FASD) is a permanent brain injury caused when a 
woman’s consumption of alcohol during pregnancy affects her fetus. The 
disabilities associated with FASD include memory impairments, problems with 
judgment and abstract reasoning, and poor adaptive functioning.^142 It is a 
debilitating cognitive impairment, which children must live with for the rest of 
their lives, through no fault of their own. A study done for the Aboriginal 
Healing Foundation drew links among the intergenerational trauma of residential 
schools, alcohol addictions, and FASD.^143 The study concluded that the 
“residential school system contributed to the central risk factor involved, 
substance abuse, but also to factors shown to be linked to alcohol abuse, such 
as child and adult physical, emotional and sexual abuse, mental health problems 
and family dysfunction.”^144

About 1% of Canadian children are born with some form of disability related to 
prenatal alcohol consumption, but estimates from Canada and the United States 
suggest that 15% to 20% of prisoners have FASD.^145 A recent Canadian study 
found that offenders with FASD had much higher rates of criminal involvement 
than those without FASD, including more juvenile and adult convictions.^146 The 
Commission believes there is a need to take urgent measures both to prevent FASD 
and to better manage its harmful consequences. There is a clear need in 
Aboriginal communities for more programming that addresses the problems of 
addiction and FASD.

	Call to Action

	33) We call upon the federal, provincial, and territorial governments to 
	recognize as a high priority the need to address and prevent Fetal 
	Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD), and to develop, in collaboration with 
	Aboriginal people, FASD preventive programs that can be delivered in a 
	culturally appropriate manner.

It is challenging for courts to deal with offenders with FASD, because obtaining 
an official diagnosis entails a long and costly process of multidisciplinary 
referrals. Even if trial judges have been educated about the symptoms of FASD, 
they are generally unable to take notice of FASD without evidence of a 
diagnosis.^147 Clearly, better diagnostic tools are needed, accompanied by 
sufficient resources for intensive community programs as realistic alternatives 
to jail and as support for people living with FASD to avoid repeated conflicts 
with the law.

The recent enactment of mandatory minimum sentences for some offences further 
complicates the situation of offenders with FASD because it denies judges the 
flexibility to consider individual circumstances in their sentencing. There is a 
danger that prison will be used unnecessarily as another expensive crisis 
intervention for Aboriginal offenders with FASD, even though culturally 
appropriate supports in the community could often be a more appropriate 
approach.^148 As well as amending mandatory minimum sentencing laws, the federal 
government can do much more to tailor correctional and parole resources to 
facilitate the reintegration of offenders with FASD into their communities.

	Call to Action

	34) We call upon the governments of Canada, the provinces, and 
	territories to undertake reforms to the criminal justice system to 
	better address the needs of offenders with Fetal Alcohol Spectrum 
	Disorder (FASD), including: i.  Providing increased community resources 
	and powers for courts to ensure that FASD is properly diagnosed, and 
	that appropriate community supports are in place for those with FASD. 
	ii.  Enacting statutory exemptions from mandatory minimum sentences of 
	imprisonment for offenders affected by FASD. iii.  Providing community, 
	correctional, and parole resources to maximize the ability of people 
	with FASD to live in the community. iv.  Adopting appropriate evaluation 
	mechanisms to measure the effectiveness of such programs and ensure 
	community safety.

	Cultural services in prisons and jails
	--------------------------------------

Studies based on interviews with Aboriginal inmates have confirmed that 
Aboriginal culture and spirituality can contribute to the healing of the 
inmates, to increased self-esteem, and to positive changes in lifestyle that 
make release and reintegration a real possibility.^149 Research suggests that 
recidivism rates for Aboriginal offenders who had participated in spiritual 
activities (such as sweat lodge ceremonies) were lower than for those who had 
not.^150

However, Aboriginal people receive few services in provincial correctional 
facilities that are designed for those serving sentences of two years less a day 
or are awaiting trial. Only a few provinces, such as British Columbia, have 
Aboriginal justice strategies that include cultural awareness training for 
officials and contracting with Aboriginal communities to provide spiritual 
leadership, counselling, and cultural programming for prisoners.^151

The need for cultural programs in jail was expressed by a former residential 
school student who was an inmate at a correctional facility in Yellowknife. The 
Survivor told the Commission, “It would be nice if our own people would come in 
here and teach us about life ... you know, how to live. This is not the way of 
life for us. It’s not the way for us people. But if they would teach a program 
like that, that will catch somebody for sure.”^152

There are some federal programs that appear to be working, but Aboriginal 
inmates do not have access to these programs in all parts of the country. For 
example, although Aboriginal healing lodges within correctional facilities have 
great potential to assist Aboriginal inmates, there are only four such lodges 
run by Correctional Services Canada and four run by Aboriginal communities under 
Section 81 of the Corrections and Conditional Release Act.^153 Lack of funding 
and difficulties in recruiting and training staff are obstacles to successful 
expansion of the healing lodge resources. In addition, prisoners must be 
classified as “minimum security” to be eligible, and 90% of Aboriginal inmates 
are assigned “medium” or “maximum” security classifications.

	Calls to Action

	35) We call upon the federal government to eliminate barriers to the 
	creation of additional Aboriginal healing lodges within the federal 
	correctional system. 36) We call upon the federal, provincial, and 
	territorial governments to work with Aboriginal communities to provide 
	culturally relevant services to inmates on issues such as substance 
	abuse, family and domestic violence, and overcoming the experience of 
	having been sexually abused.
	
	Parole and community supports
	-----------------------------

Aboriginal offenders face many challenges in obtaining parole from prison and 
beginning their transition back into the community. For many Aboriginal inmates 
seeking parole, their criminal history is a major factor held against them. 
Although some research has concluded that criminal history is a reliable risk 
predictor for both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal inmates, systemic 
discrimination related to poverty and the legacy of residential schools 
undoubtedly disadvantages Aboriginal offenders.^154 Just as some courts have the 
benefit of background and contextual information contained in pre-sentencing 
reports, parole hearings need a full understanding of an offender’s 
circumstances when making their decisions.

When the National Parole Board grants parole, correctional programming 
continues. The early stages of parole are often spent in a residential 
correctional facility: a halfway house. Although it is not a prison, a halfway 
house requires the offender to reside there and not be absent except under 
specific exceptions (for example, supervised absences or employment). It is 
intended as a transitional phase in an offender’s parole, neither full 
incarceration nor full freedom in the community, with the goal of gradual 
reintegration into the community. Unfortunately, there are too few halfway 
houses that provide programming specifically for Aboriginal offenders.

	Call to Action

	37) We call upon the federal government to provide more supports for 
	Aboriginal programming in halfway houses and parole services.

	Overrepresentation of youth
	---------------------------

The youth justice system, perhaps even more than the adult criminal justice 
system, is failing Aboriginal families. Aboriginal girls make up 49% of the 
youth admitted to custody, and Aboriginal boys are 36% of those admitted to 
custody.^155 The current law regarding young people accused of crimes is the 
Youth Criminal Justice Act, which was introduced in 2002. One of the key 
objectives of the Act is to reserve jail for the most violent or habitual 
offenders. Even in such cases, one of the express goals of the youth criminal 
justice system is to address the circumstances underlying a young person’s 
offending behaviour in order to rehabilitate and reintegrate them.^156 The Act 
has the flexibility to allow Aboriginal communities to have some measure of 
control over the youth process and to ensure Aboriginal perspectives are 
considered in individual cases.

By many objective measures, the Youth Criminal Justice Act has been a success. 
Since it came into effect, there has been a steady decline in youth crime, youth 
court caseloads, and youth supervised on community sentences and in custody.^157 
But one thing the Act has not succeeded in doing is reducing the 
overrepresentation of Aboriginal youth in the criminal justice system.^158 The 
great vulnerability and disadvantage experienced by so many Aboriginal youth 
undoubtedly contribute to their overrepresentation, a factor that is intimately 
tied to the legacy of the residential schools. Many of today’s Aboriginal 
children and youth live with the legacy of residential schools every day, as 
they struggle to deal with high rates of addictions, fetal alcohol disorder, 
mental health issues, family violence, incarceration of parents, and the 
intrusion of child-welfare authorities. All these factors place them at greater 
risk of involvement with crime.

The growing overrepresentation of Aboriginal youth in custody mirrors and is 
likely related to the even more dramatic overrepresentation of Aboriginal 
children in the care of child-welfare agencies. Research in British Columbia 
found that 35.5% of youth in care are also involved in the youth justice system, 
as compared with only 4.4% of youth who are not in care.^159 The Commission 
believes that there are ways to reduce the growing overrepresentation of 
Aboriginal youth, but that they will be found primarily outside the justice 
system. There is an urgent need to support Aboriginal families and alleviate the 
poverty experienced by many Aboriginal communities. The federal government 
should take the lead by committing the resources necessary to eliminating the 
overrepresentation of Aboriginal children and youth in care and custody. Part of 
that commitment should include collecting and publishing better data to measure 
progress.

	Call to Action

	38) We call upon the federal, provincial, territorial, and Aboriginal 
	governments to commit to eliminating the overrepresentation of 
	Aboriginal youth in custody over the next decade.
	
	Victimization of Aboriginal people
	----------------------------------

An astonishing number of Aboriginal children were victims of crime in 
residential schools. By the end of 2014, the Independent Assessment Process had 
resolved 30,939 sexual or serious physical abuse claims, awarding $2.69 billion 
in compensation.^160 Although not every case would have involved a criminal act, 
the vast majority did, easily allowing anyone to conclude that the Indian 
Residential Schools Settlement Agreement involved the largest single recognition 
of criminal victimization in Canadian history. This victimization of children 
has carried profound and long-lasting effects. Ruby Firth, a former student at 
Stringer Hall, told the Commission,

	All through my, residential school … I was a victim. They put me in that 
	frame of mind where I was a victim. I was four years old being a victim. 
	Five years old, couldn’t stop it. Six years old, couldn’t stop it. Seven 
	years old, couldn’t stop it. So at some point my brain is going to say, 
	“This is never going to stop!” So that’s what I was doing in my adult 
	life too because it didn’t stop in my childhood, I was doing that in my 
	adult, “This is never going to stop.”^161

The justice system continues to fail Aboriginal victims of crime. There are few 
services available for Aboriginal victims of crime. Victim compensation schemes 
are often lacking and often fail to recognize the distinct needs of Aboriginal 
victims of crime.

The statistics are startling. Aboriginal people are 58% more likely to be 
victimized by crime.^162 Aboriginal women report being victimized by violent 
crime at a rate almost three times higher than non-Aboriginal women—13% of 
Aboriginal women reported being victimized by violent crime in 2009.^163 In the 
same year, one in ten Aboriginal people reported being a victim of a non-spousal 
violent crime, more than double the rate reported by non-Aboriginal people.

It is difficult to obtain accurate information about the rate of victimization 
in Aboriginal communities. According to some studies, less than one-third of 
victims of crime report their victimization to police, and police forces across 
the country do not have a consistent method for recording the Aboriginal 
identity of victims.^164 Statistics Canada does not provide the kinds of 
supports necessary to permit some Aboriginal victims to comfortably disclose 
their experience to researchers. The most recent Statistics Canada data on 
homicide and family violence fail to report how many victims were Aboriginal, 
although older data suggest the homicide victimization rate of Aboriginal people 
between 1997 and 2000 was seven times that of non-Aboriginal people.^165

	Call to Action

	39) We call upon the federal government to develop a national plan to 
	collect and publish data on the criminal victimization of Aboriginal 
	people, including data related to homicide and family violence 
	victimization.

This data should be used to guide the development and funding of culturally 
appropriate services for Aboriginal victims of crime and to help make 
measureable reductions in the overrepresentation of Aboriginal people among 
crime victims.

	Call to Action

	40) We call upon all levels of government, in collaboration with 
	Aboriginal people, to create adequately funded and accessible 
	Aboriginal-specific victim programs and services with appropriate 
	evaluation mechanisms.

	Violence against Aboriginal women and girls
	-------------------------------------------

The overrepresentation of Aboriginal women and girls among crime victims is 
particularly disturbing. Aboriginal women and girls are more likely than other 
women to experience risk factors for violence. They are disproportionately 
young, poor, unemployed, and likely to have been involved with the child-welfare 
system and to live in a community marked by social disorder.^166

Velma Jackson, who attended the Blue Quills residential school in Alberta, told 
the Commission her story.

	A lot of other girls my age were [in Blue Quills], but I only know of 
	one that survived, all the rest are dead today. Some died on the street. 
	Some died prostituting. Others into alcoholism got run over by vehicles. 
	But their children are still alive today.... I can’t to this day wear a 
	dress because of all the things that happened in the school. It was like 
	a sanctuary for pedophiles I would call it, that’s probably why I 
	blocked out so much of my life is because of that.^167

The most disturbing aspect of this victimization is the extraordinary number of 
Aboriginal women who have been murdered or are reported as missing. A report by 
the , released in 2014, found that between 1980 and 2012, 1,017 Aboriginal women 
and girls were killed and 164 were missing. Two hundred and twenty-five of these 
cases remain unsolved.^168

More research is needed, but the available information suggests a devastating 
link between the large numbers of missing and murdered Aboriginal women and the 
many harmful background factors in their lives. These include: 
overrepresentation of Aboriginal children in child-welfare care; domestic and 
sexual violence; racism, poverty, and poor educational and health opportunities 
in Aboriginal communities; discriminatory practices against women related to 
band membership and Indian status; and inadequate supports for Aboriginal people 
in cities. This complex interplay of factors—many of which are part of the 
legacy of residential schools—needs to be examined, as does the lack of success 
of police forces in solving these crimes against Aboriginal women.

	Call to Action

	41) We call upon the federal government, in consultation with Aboriginal 
	organizations, to appoint a public inquiry into the causes of, and 
	remedies for, the disproportionate victimization of Aboriginal women and 
	girls. The inquiry’s mandate would include: i.  Investigation into 
	missing and murdered Aboriginal women and girls. ii.  Links to the 
	intergenerational legacy of residential schools.

	Strategies for change
	---------------------

Multi-pronged strategies are necessary to respond to the harmful legacy of 
residential schools, as demonstrated in part by the overrepresentation of 
Aboriginal people among prisoners and crime victims. Compiling better data on 
Aboriginal overrepresentation in the justice system is a starting point. 
Collection of this data must be coupled with developing measurable goals for 
reducing this overrepresentation and providing the resources necessary to reach 
those goals. The approach must be an holistic and culturally appropriate one 
that addresses the need for improvements in health, education, and economic 
development in Aboriginal communities.

Any strategy aimed at reducing Aboriginal offending and victimization must also 
include recognition of the rights of Aboriginal communities to develop their own 
justice systems as part of a larger commitment to Aboriginal self-determination 
and self-government. These rights are grounded in international and 
constitutional law as well as in the Treaties. Aboriginal forms of justice may 
be as diverse as Canada’s Aboriginal peoples themselves. It is a central 
conclusion of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada that recognition 
of the Aboriginal right to self-determination, more appropriate funding 
allocations for services from governments, and methodical tracking of progress 
are the preconditions for redressing the disastrous legacy of residential 
schools and aiding the long process of reconciliation within Canada.

	Call to Action

	42) We call upon the federal, provincial, and territorial governments to 
	commit to the recognition and implementation of Aboriginal justice 
	systems in a manner consistent with the Treaty and Aboriginal rights of 
	Aboriginal peoples, the Constitution Act, 1982, and the United Nations 
	Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, endorsed by Canada in 
	November 2012.

The Commission is convinced that genuine reconciliation will not be possible 
until the broad legacy of the schools is both understood and addressed. 
Governments in Canada spend billions of dollars each year in responding to the 
symptoms of the intergenerational trauma of residential schools. Much of this 
money is spent on crisis interventions related to child welfare, family 
violence, ill health, and crime. Despite genuine reform efforts, the dramatic 
overrepresentation of Aboriginal children in foster care, and among the sick, 
the injured, and the imprisoned, continues to grow. Only a real commitment to 
reconciliation will reverse the trend and lay the foundation for a truly just 
and equitable nation.