Even though I wrote a book about having difficult conversations with kids I still sometimes find myself wanting to avoid topics that seem impossible to break down into pieces a tiny human could understand. Sometimes I’m concerned I’ll get it wrong, and therefore it’s less risky to avoid it all together. The topic of Truth and Reconciliation is one of those conversations. I’m scared of it. I’m afraid to get it wrong.
But yesterday my 5-year-old and I spent a few hours together painting a second-hand bedframe a light mauve color for her new bedroom. Just the two of us outside in the sunshine, both working on sections of the princess style frame, with no distractions, and guess what my sweet little human wanted to talk about? Phyllis and her orange shirt. I’m sure you’re familiar with Phyllis Webstad’s story, but if not, you can read about it here:
https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/sept-30-important-days-phyllis-webstad-1.7327366
My daughter’s Kindergarten teacher must have done a wonderful job last week teaching her about Orange Shirt Day because she understood all the key concepts. She knew that Phyllis told her story so that we could learn from what happened. She understood that they took away her special orange shirt when she was sent away to school and that we wear orange shirts now to remember that it happened and to make sure it never happened again. In the moment, paintbrush in hand, it would have been tempting to make sounds like, humm, and oh yah, and to leave it at that, but it occurred to me that the most respectful and honoring thing I could do would be to try.
So, I tried.
I explained that many, many years ago the first people that lived here were Indigenous people. Then other people came here on boats and wanted to live here too. I explained that the people who came on the boats took the land away from the people who were here first and that they didn’t treat the people, like Phyllis and her parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents, very kindly. I also explained that now lots of people live in Canada all together from all over the world, but that in the beginning the land, food, and language belonged to the Coast Salish people. I used the names of the Coast Salish Nations where we live and where she goes to school: The Stz’uminus and Quw’utsun People.
I explained that her dad’s ancestors were some of the first people who were here first and her Mom’s (my) ancestors were some of the people who came over on the boats. We talked about her red sash, the French language, and how the Metis Nation was a group of people who were helping to take care of her. I repeated a few times that she was a member of the Metis Nation and she parroted it back to me, stumbling over all the m’s and n’s the first few times.
I am a member of the Metis Nation, I prompted her.
I am a member of the Metis Nation, she repeated.
I chose to move a few important pieces of the conversation to the margin of my mind knowing they would be included in future conversations. Things like the role of the Catholic church and similar religious groups (she attends a Catholic school) and the ever-so-awkward fact that we live in a home we bought on land owned by our Town whom we pay taxes to. A fact that is only amplified by her Dad’s professional industry: real estate. We can’t say we live on stolen land out of one side of our mouths and also say we make a living selling houses out of the other side of our mouths without being prepared to talk about this blaring incongruency with our children. But alas, that is not part of our conversation, yet.
With those extra-tricky notes to the side, and with our painting task coming to completion, the conversation started to naturally wrap itself up.
Did I feel confident having this conversation? No. I’m still learning what truth and reconciliation means and will likely never feel confident speaking on the topic. Do I know how to explain the concept of reconciliation to a 5-year-old? Not really. Do I know what reconciliation looks like in this conversation and how to give examples of that in an age-appropriate way? Heck no.
But I do know what truth feels like. And I know that even when the truth isn’t perfect, it’s the best I can offer my children.
So, on this day of Truth and Reconciliation my hope is that we try to have these conversations with our kids, even when they are hard and imperfect.
Even if we are a settler on this land and our children are Metis and they go to Catholic school, and we fell in love with a realtor. Even if it all feels messy.
Even if (when) we get it wrong.
It’s a starting place.
Like most things, I find once you’re started it’s easier to keep going, and keeping this conversation going with my children is the best way I can honor Phyllis’ story, and all the similar stories that we honor when we wear our orange shirts.