3 — Wednesday, October 6, 2021 // The Statement
How a summer of church burnings ignited a new
understanding of my religious identity
BY MARY ROLFES
STATEMENT CORRESPONDENT
A few years ago, as part of a summer profes-
sional development experience, I was asked for
the first time to complete a Social Identity Wheel.
LSA’s Inclusive Teaching website describes the
Social Identity Wheel as “an activity that encour-
ages students to identify social identities and
reflect on the various ways those identities become
visible or more keenly felt at different times, and
how those identities impact the ways others per-
ceive or treat them.” The version that LSA uses,
and the one I completed, asks participants to iden-
tify themselves across 11 social identities (such as
race, gender and socioeconomic status), and then
to “categorize those identities based on which
matter most in their self-perception and which
matter most in others’
perception of them.”
Describing myself in
terms of the 11 param-
eters was fairly straight-
forward, as was picking
out the identities I “think
about most often.” When
I arrived at the second
categorization question,
identities I “think about
least often,” only one of
the 11 options jumped out
as belonging here: “Reli-
gious or Spiritual Affili-
ation.” While I thought
about some of my social
identities more than oth-
ers, spirituality fell far
behind the rest — upon
reflection, I realized I
rarely thought about my
religious affiliation at all. In fact, the only times I
consciously pondered this specific identity were
the instances in which I was specifically asked
to identify it, whether it be on an online survey, a
demographic form or a Social Identity Wheel. In
these cases, I answered “agnostic” or, more often,
“non-religious” and moved on to the next ques-
tion. Religion simply did not feel like a part of my
life — at least, not anymore — and nothing about
my lack of a label seemed complicated until this
summer.
***
In late May of this year, a mass grave containing
the remains of 215 Indigenous children was found
on the former grounds of the Kamloops Indian
Residential School in British Columbia, Canada.
The school was part of an extensive residential
school system sponsored by the Canadian gov-
ernment and administered by churches. Under
the guise of providing an education to Indigenous
children, Canada’s residential school system sys-
tematically stole Indigenous children from their
families to remove them from their culture, strip
them of their heritage and force them to assimilate
to the white culture of Euro-Canadian colonizers.
This effort is described as a “cultural genocide”
by Canada’s Truth and Reconciliation Commis-
sion. The still-unknown number of Indigenous
children that died in residential schools, and the
disrespect with which their deaths were treated,
demonstrates that the Canadian government’s
effort to destroy Indigenous culture would be car-
ried out no matter the cost, including the destruc-
tion of Indigenous lives.
At the schools, children were forbidden from
speaking their own languages or acknowledg-
ing their heritage. They were given Anglo names
and many were baptized against their families’
wishes. Their hair was cut short and they were
dressed in Western-style uniforms. Many didn’t
receive an education, either — the curriculum was
focused on prayer, along with manual and domes-
tic labor.
Along with the inherent cruelty of forcibly
separating children from their family and culture,
conditions at the residential schools were hor-
rific. The “schools” were places of severe physi-
cal, psychological and sexual abuse. Tuberculosis
was rampant, and Indigenous children in these
schools died of the disease at a much higher rate
than children in the general Canadian population.
Conditions that contribute to the development
and spread of tuberculosis, such as “malnutri-
tion, overcrowding and poor ventilation” were
common in the schools. As early as 1907, the chief
medical officer of Canada’s Department of Indian
Affairs noted this problem and urged the federal
government to improve conditions and to have
tuberculosis nurses on staff. He was not only
ignored but also prevented from conducting fur-
ther research and sharing his findings. Two pres-
ent-day tuberculosis experts, looking back, believe
the devastating impact of the disease in residential
schools was not an accident, but rather the “result
of deliberate neglect and mistreatment.”
Kamloops was affiliated with the Catholic
Church until 1969 when the federal government
took over operations, using it as a residence for a
day school until its closing in 1978. It was only one
of 139 facilities identified within the residential
school system, which an estimated 150,000 Indig-
enous children were forced to attend. And yet the
tragedy of the residential schools is not reserved to
the distant past — the last residential school closed
in 1996, only 25 years ago.
The discovery of the mass grave at Kamloops
spurred calls for further investigation, and since
late May, more than 1,000 unmarked graves of
Indigenous children have been found in British
Columbia and Saskatchewan. Many of the former
sites at which these tragedies are being uncovered
were affiliated with the Catholic Church.
To be clear, the Catholic Church was not the
only religious organization affiliated with these
schools — the Anglican, Methodist and Presbyte-
rian churches also oversaw the operation of schools
within the system. But the
Catholic Church was the
one whose schools were
associated with recent
findings
of
unmarked
graves, and therefore was
the focus of scrutiny this
summer. In the wake of
this discovery, 68 Catho-
lic churches across Can-
ada were subsequently
vandalized or burned in
“suspicious” fires, some
of
which
completely
destroyed the churches.
While no suspects or
official
motives
have
been identified, the burn-
ings seemed to be an act
of protest. Additionally,
statues of Queen Victoria
(the leader of the British
Empire from 1837 to 1901, during which the Cana-
dian Confederation was founded) and Queen Eliz-
abeth II (Canada’s current head of state, a reminder
of their colonialist past) were toppled as part of pro-
tests on Canada Day.
The vandalism was met with criticism from
some, including from Prime Minister Justin
Trudeau — who happens to be Catholic. He
claimed that while he understood the anger, these
acts were “actually depriving people who are in
need of grieving and healing and mourning from
places where they can grieve and reflect and look
for support.” Brian Pallister, then the premier of
Manitoba, also “strongly condemn(ed) acts of
violence and vandalism,” calling it a “major set-
back” and urging Canadians to “come together”
to advance “real reconciliation.”
The response among Indigenous leaders in
Canada was more ambivalent. Arlen Dumas,
grand chief of the Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs,
expressed shock at the vandalism and said he
“personally wouldn’t have participated.” But he
also shared that the discovery of the unmarked
graves had been “very triggering” and the events
were a symbol of hurt, frustration and anger.
Greg Gabriel, chief of the Penticton Indian Band,
said his community had “mixed feelings” about
the burning of Sacred Heart Church on their
land; while the memory of the Roman Catholic
Church’s subjugation was painful, the church
had also become an integral part of their com-
munity. Chief Clarence Louie of the Osoyoos
Indian Band expressed similar ambivalence about
Sacred Heart Church, saying that while he doesn’t
believe in the Catholic church, “some of (his) peo-
ple do.” Other Indigenous leaders said the church
burnings were “not in solidarity” with Indigenous
peoples, worsening the strife of those in mourn-
ing and furthering the divide between Indigenous
and non-Indigenous people.
While vandalism may not have been the most
productive response, the burnings demonstrate
the visceral anger and hurt that the Catholic
Church created through its role in the residential
schools. These feelings are only exacerbated by
the Church’s response to its past wrongdoings.
The Church, along with the federal government,
has resisted sharing the records that would,
among other things, help identify the remains
within the uncovered graves. Pope Francis has yet
to explicitly apologize for the Catholic Church’s
part in this cultural genocide. The Canadian Con-
ference of Catholic Bishops did recently issue an
official apology for their role in the residential
school system, after years of refusal to do so.
But this isn’t nearly enough.
When the Church resists taking full account-
ability or working cooperatively with reconcili-
ation efforts, property destruction directed at a
destructive organization may feel like the only
outlet. It should be mentioned that, though there
were concerns that church burnings could add to
already significant wildfire risk, there is no evi-
dence that anyone was killed or severely injured
by the burnings, only that property was damaged.
Yet some responses to the burnings seemed more
concerned with the hypothetical lives that could
have been lost than the Indigenous lives that were.
To be clear, Indigenous voices should have
been prioritized in the responses to these tragic
discoveries. While the vandalism may have gen-
erated mixed feelings for Indigenous communi-
ties, the condemnation of the church burnings on
behalf of Indigenous leaders was clear, and their
calls to end the violence and the further damage it
was inflicting upon their communities should’ve
been heeded immediately. But the destructive
protests demonstrated that the discoveries of
unmarked graves created anger, and perhaps felt
personal, even to non-Indigenous people.
I am not Indigenous, nor even Canadian. But
the events of this summer created an anger that
felt personal for me as well. Of course, it reminded
me that boarding schools analogous to Canada’s
residential schools were operated in the United
States — including three in Michigan and 16 in
my home state of Minnesota — with the objective,
summarized by Captain Richard H. Pratt, to “kill
the Indian ... save the man.” But the events of this
summer also made salient an aspect of my identity
I hadn’t thought about in years.
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