Walpole Island Monument

A Monumental Story:
Expressing our Pain
By Beverly Williams
Walpole Island First Nation
Shingwauk Residential School Student
1950 – 1953

“Maam’pee day’aaw’ meh, Kay’ah’beh (We Are Still Here).”  The Walpole Island First Nation Residential School Group hosted a community information conference, February 4-6, 2000 and this was the beginning of our healing journey.  During the conference a series of talking circles were available for survivors and workshop participants to openly share their experience.  There was a feeling of goodness and well being, and belonging which consumed the conference. On the last day of the workshop, an honouring ceremony was conducted for both the living and the deceased of residential school survivors.   We greeted and hugged people that never had a welcome home from residential school.

After the conference the question was brought forth to several of the survivors to whether or not they would like to continue sharing their stories.   There was a favourable response and we began co-organizing informal gatherings with the assistance of other interested survivors in our group. The attendance to theses meetings often reached 20 – 25 residential school survivors.   There was no need for formality within our group as we initiated practical talking circles which developed trusting relationships as we shared stories with one another.  We held feasts and invited neighbouring First Nations to share in the story telling.  We gained strength to overcome the fear of revisiting the traumatic past by supporting one another at the reunions.

A very resourceful member, of the Children of Shingwauk Alumni Association proposed a great idea, which was to put the names of survivors living and deceased on a brick and build a monument.  This proved to be a good idea for the students that attended Shingwauk Residential School in Sault Ste Marie, Ontario-however it came to mind that we should do something for our own community.  We had students attend various residential schools such as the Mohawk school, Mount Elgin, Spanish, Mount Pleasant, Shingwauk and Carlyle.

We needed a structure that would commemorate and honour the history of all those who survived-all those that did not and those students who did not return home.  Our monument represents the loss of our childhood and reminds us of our obligations to our children for maintaining our native language and culture, that so many of us were denied.  This also reminds us to never forget this legacy. The monument would provide education to the public regarding the history of residential schools and address the legacy of physical, sexual, emotional and spiritual abuse.

Collectively we began to hold meetings and sharing information about the constructing of a permanent wall structure.  Through various fund raising activities and by making application for grants to the Aboriginal Healing Foundation and Walpole Island First Nation, we were able to construct the Residential School Memorial Monument in 2002.  The funding project was on a time restraint and had to be researched by our Walpole Island Residential School Survivors’ Group.  We worked hard to meet our deadline and to complete the task at hand.

The Walpole Island Residential School Memorial Monument is a beautiful structure made from black granite with grey lettering.  It is 17.5 feet in width, 8 feet in height and 16 inches thick.  There are four wings with names of approximately 400 Walpole Island First Nation residential school survivors etched on the front and back of each, with room to add more.  There are four granite benches between each wing.  It does not matter what school you attended your name can be etched on the monument.

The centre piece of the monument portrays a piece of artwork sketched by a local artist.  The picture sends a message of dominance of an Indian agent leading a child away from home.  The child is seen clinging to the shirts of her mother and this part of history will always be remembered.  It will in fact remind survivors, their children, great-grand children and future generations that we indeed had suffered, but still survived and can say, “Maam’pee day’aaw’ meh, Kay’ah’beh (We Are Still Here).”