Submitted by Victoria Elaine McIntosh

I just got a letter today from the lawyer who is handling my case, I knew what it's about. I open the letter and it brings a lot of mixed emotions, knowing that this piece of paper holds the dates of my stolen childhood and the people named that were there. When I read the date of entry 1963 and date of departure 1971, I just looked and lookin at these numbers. It dawned on me that my first assigned number was 63 and I was only 4??

This is the same age as my granddaughter. When I look at her I cannot imagine her ever being in a place like that, and me not knowing how she is being treated or not knowing when will be the next time I see her. Would she recognize me? I was 8 when my Mother came to visit and a nun was standing there and listening to every word being said. It didn't matter anyways, I didn't recognize her. We were told before we event went to the visiting parlor never to say what was going on in there. There was always a priest or nun listening or chaperoning. If things got too out of hand that a parent would hug their child, the parent was not asked to leave, but told to leave. Numbers were used, not our own names.

It is ironic to me that most of us school survivors remember our first day in these schools and what was asked of us. Are you Christian or pagan? How can you answer that as a child? I wondered through adulthood, what is a Christian? What is a pagan? And being called cachon or savage was an everyday thing for us. I know now I am neither. I am a human being with feelings, feelings that I learned to tune out very quickly when I entered this place.

I was like a robot for years, no feelings, don't dare show them without getting into trouble. And speaking your own language was forbidden. Another thing I learned very quickly. You were punished severely. A strapping, no food, locked in a room usually the attic if you did it again. No one liked the attic in that place, I spent many a time up there. Sometimes you were given cod liver oil or castor oil til you got sick from throwing up or diarrhea. From this types of punishments as an adult, my body reacts to certain things. The body remembers as well as the mind. When I got punished in this matter I preferred the bolw of porridge with worms in it that was served in the mornings. A good morning was not finding worms in your bowl, or getting your chores done on time before you head off to school in the morning.

I was abused in every way in that school. My anger shows when I am made to feel inferior to someone else. It took a long time to get it into my head that I have a right to stick up for myself. What angers me that most is when its's directed to my children. I will not tolerate. This is just the beginning for me and I am on my way to healing. I will be 47 years old soon and I've been through a lot. I had no childhood and no one knows I cry when I'm alone, that I grieve and pain for it. And I've done plenty of it in the last couple of years.

I have no hatred towards anyone, only pity for these people who infliced that pain. In the name of religion? Who knows? In the name of God? No. There is no fear in God, God is love. And this is where I'm at in life, learning about who God is. I want to know who God is, not what I was taught. Even after what out people have been through we manage to keep our sense of humor. This is the best time for me to be around my people because we know and we have a special connection, our spirituality, our culture, our language, we are slowly connecting. For religion is those trying to stay out of hell, Spirituality are for those who have been through it.

Thank you and Megwetch. My English name is Victoria Elaine McIntosh, My Ojibway name is Papiianok.