Gwich’in Teachings Illuminate Path Forward for Truth and Reconciliation

In the early 1920s, the Gwich’in community experienced profound grief as families gathered along the Peel River near Fort McPherson in the Northwest Territories. Anglican missionaries were forcibly taking children, some as young as two, to the St. Peter’s Indian Residential School in Hay River, located nearly 2,000 kilometres away. This harrowing event has been remembered by Gwich’in Elder Mary Effie Snowshoe, who describes it as a “sad story” passed down from her parents. In a moment that would resonate through time, Chief Julius Salu declared, “No more. Nobody is to send their children away again.” His courageous stand marked not just an act of defiance, but an embodiment of guut’àii, a Gwich’in principle meaning “acting with one mind,” which emphasizes collective strength and protection.

As denialism regarding residential schools gains traction in Canada, the teachings of guut’àii provide important lessons on resisting such narratives. The same resilience that characterized the Gwich’in response to residential schools can guide contemporary efforts to confront misinformation and uphold the truth.

Strength in Northern Contexts

In her book, By Strength, We Are Still Here: Indigenous Peoples and Indian Residential Schooling in Inuvik, Northwest Territories, the author explores how strength is essential to understanding the experiences of Indigenous peoples in the North. This strength is rooted in kinship, collective responsibility, and ancestral knowledge, rather than individual resilience. The harsh realities of residential schooling should not be overlooked; children endured severe conditions in institutions designed to undermine their cultural identity.

The context of the North adds depth to this understanding. Many children traveled vast distances to attend residential schools like Grollier and Stringer Halls. For them, strength meant maintaining connections through letters, protecting siblings, and preserving their language amid isolation. Furthermore, students from diverse backgrounds, including Dinjii Zhuh, Inuvialuit, Métis, Inuit, and others, formed alliances that fostered solidarity and laid the groundwork for pan-Indigenous political movements in the 1970s.

Confronting Denialism

The residential school system was not a series of well-intentioned mistakes; it was a calculated attempt to dismantle Indigenous families and societies. The United Nations defines genocide as the “forcibly transferring children of the group to another group,” which accurately describes the residential school experience. Testimonies collected by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) reveal both the harm inflicted and the strength of survivors.

Yet, despite overwhelming evidence of the past, residential school denialism is increasingly prevalent in public discourse. Historian Sean Carleton and anthropology graduate student Benjamin Kucher have noted the rise of narratives that downplay the severity of these schools, claiming that conditions were not as dire as reported or that the number of missing children is exaggerated. Such denial undermines Indigenous testimonies and weakens commitments to truth and reconciliation.

The teachings of guut’àii offer a framework for resisting these false narratives. They reframe survivors as active advocates rather than passive victims. Chief Salu’s declaration serves as a powerful example of collective resistance against oppression. Solidarity within these institutions of genocide does not absolve them; instead, it highlights the strength and agency of Indigenous peoples during a time of immense adversity.

Denialism has significant implications for ongoing efforts to locate missing children. The demand for “proof” through exhumations disregards the wealth of existing evidence and may pressure communities into unsafe actions. A 2024 Ipsos poll found that 75 percent of Canadians believe governments should do more to address the legacy of residential schools. Yet, a 2023 survey by Innovative Research revealed that while 73 percent of Canadians claim familiarity with the topic, their knowledge diminishes significantly when faced with specific questions.

Moving Forward with Collective Responsibility

To confront denialism effectively, Canadians must embrace the principles of guut’àii. This means centering the voices of survivors, providing families with the necessary resources, and recognizing that stories of suffering must be intertwined with narratives of strength. Indigenous strength encompasses not just survival but also the potential for structural transformation.

Children who endured residential schools often went on to lead fulfilling lives and achieve success by conventional standards. This resilience is attributed to Indigenous forms of strength, such as guut’àii, which emphasizes collective responsibility. This ethic is further explored in an upcoming book by the author, titled Talk Treaty to Me: Understanding the Basics of Treaties and Land in Canada, co-authored with anthropologist Sara Komarnisky. This work aims to help Canadians understand the treaties that continue to govern their shared existence.

In reflecting on Chief Salu’s promise to advocate for his community, we are reminded that the history of residential schools is not solely one of harm but also of resilience and collective governance. By standing alongside survivors, supporting Indigenous-led initiatives, and rejecting denialism, Canada can forge a future rooted in honesty, justice, and mutual respect. Strength, as demonstrated by Indigenous peoples, is not merely about survival; it is about transforming oppression into collective action and ensuring a just future for generations to come.