Why wear an orange shirt on September 30th
CONTENT NOTE — this article contains material that may be disturbing to some individuals.
Author bio: Jackie Bellerose is Metis from East Prairie Metis Settlement and is the Indigenous Student Engagement & Recruitment Specialist for UAlberta Faculty of Arts. U of A Alum, ’09 BA Native Studies.
Every year since 2013, on September 30th, there is a sea of Orange — in the form of T-shirts (Orange Shirt Day).
What is this and why do we do it?
Orange Shirt Day has a humble but sad beginning. The “orange shirt” in Orange Shirt Day refers to the new shirt that Phyllis Webstad, a Northern Secwépemc (Shuswap) woman from the Stswecem’c Xgat’tem First Nation (Canoe Creek Indian Band), was given by her grandmother for her first day of school at St. Joseph’s Mission Residential School in British Columbia.
When Phyllis got to school, the nuns at the school took away her clothes, including her new shirt. It was never returned. To Phyllis, the color orange has always reminded her of her experiences at residential school and it reminded her how her feelings didn’t matter, how no one cared and how she felt like she was worth nothing. She remembers, “All of us little children were crying and no one cared.’’ (https://www.orangeshirtday.org/phyllis-story.html)
A very brief history of Canada’s dark past
Residential schools were Canadian Federal Government sanctioned schools run mostly by churches between 1831 and 1996. In plain language, the Federal government ordered all First Nations, Metis and Inuit children attend Residential School in order to assimilate them into Canadian society.
The children were taken by force more often than not.
Children as young as 5 were taken from their families and communities to live in these boarding schools for 10 months of the year for at least 10 years. Some didn’t even have the opportunity to return home for the summer and had to stay at the schools year round. As many as 6000 children died at the schools or died trying to escape — yes, escape. If parents didn’t voluntarily surrender their children they were arrested and faced jail time.
Experiences at Residential Schools were primarily negative. There are rare stories about children having positive experiences but they remain few and far between. The children were not allowed to speak their first language and in most cases, were punished for doing so. The children were stripped of their traditional clothes and their hair was cut. Siblings were segregated and not allowed to speak to each other. The children were taught that Christianity was the only acceptable spiritual belief and that their own traditional Indigenous spiritual beliefs were heathenous, savage, and even went so far as to call the children devil-worshippers. The worst part, and one most difficult to talk about, is that a significant number of children suffered from physical and sexual abuse at the hands of the priests and nuns.
Of course this had detrimental effects.
The children grew up and returned home no longer knowing who they truly were. They were broken. They were taught that everything about themselves was wrong or inferior and needed to be changed so when they went home they looked at their families differently — with contempt or pity. They felt isolated in Residential School and when they went home they were estranged from their family. The feelings of isolation and loss of language, culture, identity and belonging often led to substance abuse — to numb the pain, to forget.
Residential School had long-term detrimental effects on the entire family unit. Children were being raised without love and affection while attending school. This led to parenting issues when raising their own children. They didn’t know how to hug their children and tell them they loved them because they didn’t experience it. This led to what we now call Intergenerational Impacts or Intergenerational Trauma.
Intergenerational Impacts affect us still as Indigenous people today. Most, if not all, of the Indigenous students, staff, and professors at the U of A have a parent, grandparent or great-grandparent who attended Residential School. We have this historical trauma in common.
As a Metis person, Orange Shirt Day is a day to honor Nôhkom (my grandmother) and Nicâpân (my great grandmother) who both did 10 hard years at “the Mission” (another name for the Residential School they attended).
As settlers, you wearing an Orange Shirt lets us know that you hear us, that you see us, and that you are an ally. It is a way to show us that you are committed to Reconciliation.
So on September 30th, wear your orange shirt to show your support.
Hay-hay (Thank you).
Consider purchasing your Orange Shirt from the University of Alberta Bookstore.
Unique to the U of A, First Peoples’ House has created an orange shirt with our Artist-in-Residence Jerry Whitehead. Proceeds from the sales will go back to honour our intergenerational survivors of Indian Residential schools at the U of A and will go directly into cultural programming.
https://bookstore.ualberta.ca/p-40418-orange-shirt-day-t-shirt.aspx
For more info on Residential Schools:
https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/residential-schools
For more info on Reconciliation:
https://reconciliationcanada.ca/
If you have been triggered by this article and you need to speak with someone please phone:
- ACCESS 24/7 at 780–424–2424, ext 2
- the Kids Help Phone at 1–800–668–6868, or
- the 24 Hour Distress Line at 780–482–4357
- 24-hour crisis line: 1–866–925–4419
Or reach out to the First Peoples’ House Wellness Worker — make an appointment with fph@ualberta.ca
Additional Resources:
https://www.canada.ca/en/public-health/services/publications/healthy-living/coping-emotional-reactions.html
Here are some suggestions for self-care:
be kind to yourself, take walks and exercise, get out on the land, smudge, pray, sing, sew, drum, dance, spend time with family and friends, laugh, cry, talk, meditate, sleep, get plenty of rest, seek spiritual or religious support, eat healthy foods, ask for help, seek counselling.
