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Orange Shirt Day a way to heal, reconcile

In the fall of 1973, six-year-old Phyllis Webstad's grandmother took her to the local general store and bought her a brand new orange shirt for her first day of school. She was so proud of this beautiful new garment and she beamed as she wore it.

In the fall of 1973, six-year-old Phyllis Webstad's grandmother took her to the local general store and bought her a brand new orange shirt for her first day of school. She was so proud of this beautiful new garment and she beamed as she wore it.

When Phyllis arrived at St. Joseph Mission residential school near Williams Lake, however, the shirt was taken away from her and she had to wear the school uniform.

One would think that it would be explained to young Phyllis that she could keep her shirt and wear it for special occasions, but this was not the case. The beautiful, precious shirt that her grandmother gave to her was never returned.

In fact, Phyllis saw other children at the school wearing it. She knew that it was hers, and she said so, but no one listened. One can only imagine the confusion and sadness that this child experienced, feelings that went unresolved for many years.

It is said that our greatest sufferings can bring about our greatest triumphs.

Forty years later, Phyllis Webstad spearheaded the Orange Shirt Day movement to raise awareness and promote healing for crimes committed against aboriginal children between 1831 and 1996 in the residential school system.

Today people across the country wear orange shirts on Sept. 30 in honour of Phyllis and all of the children who endured this experience.

Historical documents make clear the intent of the residential school system was "to kill the Indian in the child."

All that these people held dear was taken away. For generations, children were forced to leave the warmth of their families and attend cold, overcrowded institutions where abuse was rampant.

Children and their parents often did not see each other for years. Villages were void of laughter and parents and grandparents had no one to teach. Children, far away at the schools, had no one to wipe away their tears.

In these institutions, children were forbidden to speak their languages or to learn their traditions.

They were taught to do manual labour deemed worthy by the dominant culture instead of the work that they had done for centuries, work that allowed them to thrive in the harsh Canadian environment, skills that they had ironically taught to the first European settlers, allowing them to avoid dying of hunger, cold and scurvy.

It is significant to note that the 1948 United Nations Genocide Convention included in its definition of the crime, "forcibly transferring children of the group to another group."

Is it any wonder therefore, that Canada expressed reservation and did not ratify the document until 1952? Indeed, it was not until 2008 that the Canadian government officially apologized to the victims of these schools, and it was not until 2015 that the government-appointed Truth and Reconciliation Commission officially referred to the residential school system as "cultural genocide."

The impact of the residential school system has been devastating.

It has resulted in the virtual loss of languages and traditions. It has ravaged a once thriving and healthy family system. It has contributed to severe health issues among our aboriginal populations.

There are numerous other social indicators that demonstrate that healing is required, from higher rates of incarceration to higher rates of violence against aboriginal women.

When we acknowledge where our problems come from, we can begin to do something about them. Today we are seeing a resurgence of aboriginal culture, and there is reason to believe that things are getting better.

As more and more of us participate in Orange Shirt Day, we not only bestow honour on the victims of Canada's residential school system, we actually become a part of our nation's very necessary journey of healing and reconciliation.