My painting is a memorial to the children whose voices and bodies were silenced and discarded without any regard for their humanity by our very own Canadian government and churches. It is also a tribute to the Indigenous youth and families who carry this intergenerational trauma and are still struggling to survive in a country that tried to snuff out their language, culture and very way of life.
The young Indigenous girl in the centre of my painting is based on a photograph taken by Derek Mortensen from an article in Maclean’s in 2014 (https://www.macleans.ca/news/canada/why-fixing-first-nations-education-remains-so-far-out-of-reach/). I was immediately drawn to her fixed gaze and the innocence and intensity of her stare. I didn’t use a child that attended the original Kamloops residential school because it was difficult to find clear, individual close-up pictures of students (or any at all) and I wanted to contrast a contemporary image of an Indigenous child to represent the connection between the residential school system and the influence it had on generations that followed. While Mortensen was gracious enough to allow me to use his photograph of the young girl, I wasn’t able to find out her name or backstory from 2014 (she would be in her teens now). I feel like she represents hope for a brighter future despite the harsh reality of life that exists for many Indigenous communities.
I encircled the little girl’s image with children’s shoes to represent the recent find of Indigenous children’s graves at Kamloops. Many Indigenous and non-Indigenous Canadians have commemorated the loss of the original 215 children by leaving pairs of children’s shoes at various sites to honour and remember the souls who tragically died there.
I pointed the shoes inwards to draw the eye to the girl’s face, because even though the shoes represent evidence of a genocide, she symbolizes the light of the future. Her penetrating gaze challenges the viewer to contemplate the treatment of Indigenous people and the anti-Indigenous racism that is embedded in the fabric of Canada.
I painted cracked dirt underneath the shoes and the girl’s image because it reflects the cracks in the Canadian facade as we are often seen as a country accepting of other cultures and diversity. The orange flowers coming through the cracks offer hope and resilience and are a reminder of the 94 calls to action set out by the Truth and Reconcilation Committee established in 2015 to honour, acknowledge, and take action against past and present acts of genocide against Indigenous people.
I painted a Canadian flag dissolving into tears on the girl’s shirt as a reminder of how the Canadian government and Catholic churches running some of these schools betrayed the Indigenous people and almost destroyed their culture and communities. The red of the Canadian flag drips into the cracks of the earth and contaminates the water with its dark past. The clear puddles of water at the bottom of the composition are symbolic of life and renewal. Even though the trauma continues to be reignited among First Nations, Metis, and Inuit people as the tally of unmarked graves continues to grow, the truth can no longer be obscured. It is as clear as day.
My intention with this artwork is to remind viewers that “every child matters” and that reconciliation between the Canadian government and the Indigenous people can’t begin unless we acknowledge the truth and impact of Canada’s colonial past on the present day plight of these communities. These legacies continue to threaten Indigenous people and it is only by taking action on individual, community and systemic levels, that we can begin to heal this open wound.