Reflections on National Day of Truth and Reconciliation

Today is National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. It is a day of mourning the victims of the genocide committed against all the Indigenous nations in so-called Canada, through the residential school system. It is a day of reflection. I am reflecting on how settlers, like myself, can prevent the ongoing genocide of Indigenous peoples which continues to this day. I consider the pathways that genocide is taking right now, through things like removing Indigenous children from their homes and being placed in foster care, like increased police violence (like the 7 Indigenous people murdered in one week by RCMP and police across so-called Canada), like destroying their land and water with colonial mega-projects like pipelines that contribute to climate disruption and environmental degradation, like Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, Girls and 2-Spirit. And I am grieving.

At the same time, we are watching the brutal genocide in Palestine, and horrific attacks on Lebanon. To be clear, Israel is engaging in the same tactics as the Canadian government did as the colonial state was founded. Israel just has more intense weapons and is able to kill more people faster. And we are watching it live. But it is using the same tools -- implements of death and cultural destruction, stealing children and poisoning the waters, spreading disease as they did with small pox here in so-called Canada.

Settler colonialism, no matter where or when or how it takes place, will always necessitate violence. Settler colonialism is genocidal, and always will be.

On this day, I think about my relationship to this genocide -- here and in Palestine and the DRC and beyond. I think about how capitalism in the West drives settler colonialism. How the capitalist machine will always demand more and more dead bodies, and how it really doesn't care what that number is, especially if the bodies aren't rich and white. I think about how I belong to many of the groups (white, settler) that gain privilege from this horrific violence and how I do not consent to genocide for anyone’s gain.

I think about how I had the extreme joy and privilege to grow up on 100 acres of land in Algonquin territory, and developed a deep and nurturing relationship with the land, when so many Algonquin people were separated from their connection with their land and culture. I think about how that property is surrounded by "Crown land" but is actually Indigenous territory, and how my family benefits from it, but no Indigenous folks do.

I think about how we treat the land as brutally as we treat Indigenous peoples, poisoning the waters, disrupting the climate to the point of constant crisis.

I don't know if there is any way to make amends for the immense violence that settler colonialism has caused. I don’t see a way to atone for that level of violence and harm. The only option is to stop it from happening, wherever, whenever and however it is happening. The only option is to stop making it an option by building a world where genocide isn't a necessity, as it is under colonial capitalism.

And in order to do that, we have to reckon with the current reality. We have to fully accept and understand the extent and impact of genocide here on Turtle Island, how it continues to this day, and the complicity that all settlers have in the ongoing genocides.

And it's not enjoyable. It is deeply uncomfortable and it means coming to terms with the inherent violence of the system that, for many, provides a life of comfort and privilege.

However, without the reckoning, without seeing the intense wound that genocides on Turtle Island and beyond have caused, we cannot heal and we cannot prevent it from happening again.

Our grief, on this day, and all days, from looking and accepting the deep gashes in the soul of humanity can be the salve to the wound. And the healing that comes through this grief can also be the foundation that we build a new world from.

Because we need to be like phoenixes, rising from the ashes of the violence of colonialism and creating a beautiful world of connection and healing. We need to find ways to live together that don't necessitate destroying other peoples and cultures for the purposes of profit and expansion.

On days like today, when I am deep in the grief of genocide, it is hard to see the new world. It is hard to believe we can rebuild something from such devastation. But tomorrow, the sun will rise again. Some of our grief, some of our mourning, will have left our bodies, ready to transform into healing, ready to transform into action, ready to transform into a new world.

This National Day of Truth and Reconciliation, may we feel our grief and allow it to transform our world into something beautiful, something that capitalism cannot touch.

So may it be.

Amelia