Lettre Ouverte : L'existence Autochtone Ne Pliera Pas Devant le Déni

In early September, the city streets, metro, and buses swell with commuters as all academic institutes prepare for the start of a new school year. McGill University campus comes alive with student chatter, welcoming events, and excitement.

As an Assistant Professor at McGill, I kick off the new academic year with an Introduction to Indigenous Studies class of about 150 students. Most of these students lived here all their life, while many are coming from out-of-province, if not travelling internationally. Some are Indigenous students from First Nations, Inuit, and Métis communities.

McGill’s student body reflects a wide range of socioeconomic and cultural backgrounds. Students from various disciplines end up in my classroom together. What the students have in common in my class is that the majority know very little about Indigenous Peoples, histories, and cultures. My job is to teach them as much as possible over a three-month period, with the hope that the connections they make will be meaningful and memorable. As a member of the Wolf Clan of the Kanien’kehá:ka Nation at Kahnawà:ke, I share a lot of my own stories and experiences as an Indigenous woman, oral historian, and scholar.

Every September brings a wave of international media coverage about Indigenous Peoples. Unfortunately for those that know very little about us, it may reduce our collective experiences down to a single trauma narrative. September 30 is the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, and the Canadian public is encouraged to reflect on the dark legacy of Residential Schools.

As an Onkwehón:we (Indigenous) person and teacher, I recognize that the public has so little education and access to accurate information about this history, let alone the willingness to learn about Indigenous realities. This certainly is not due to a lack of engagement on the part of Indigenous Peoples, especially considering that “Orange Shirt Day” exists because of the courage of survivors to tell their truth.

If September 30 happens to be the only day that most Canadians encounter Indigenous stories, I want to encourage Montrealers to dig deeper and confront their own assumptions and misconceptions about us—particularly given that former Quebec Premier Francois Legault chose not to recognize it as a provincial statutory holiday in Quebec, citing “productivity” as the rationale.

I start every one of my classes with a Thanksgiving and by sharing some good news about Indigenous People. Sometimes I must search for a while to find a positive media story to share. By challenging specific narratives, we can change the future, and I do not approach my classes from shame-based or fear-based lenses. I am open, honest, and vulnerable with my students. In the summer, I taught a land-based Indigenous food sovereignty course and welcomed students into my home and garden. For many, it was their first time visiting Kahnawà:ke, and I wanted their experience to be positive and enjoyable.

The challenge is to encourage people to learn about the history of settler colonialism in Canada before making judgements. While some are indifferent or close-minded, my job as a professor is to introduce content and facilitate learning, but as young adults, the students decide how much they will engage and absorb what I offer.

As I tell my students, the gift of education is critical thinking. The same applies here: you do not have to agree with me; think for yourselves. Some parts of this history are uncomfortable and there is no way to put a positive spin on it, so we will be uncomfortable together. After only one year of teaching full-time, I already crossed paths with hundreds of students, most of whom are young Montrealers that will be our future doctors, nurses, teachers, parents, politicians, and workers. It is truly an honour to teach our youth.