Gwich’in Teachings: Strength Against Residential School Denialism

In the early 1920s, Gwich’in families in Fort McPherson, Northwest Territories, faced a heartbreaking moment as Anglican missionaries prepared to transport Indigenous children, some as young as two, to the St. Peter’s Indian Residential School, located nearly 2,000 kilometres away. This traumatic event was marked by the courageous stand of Chief Julius Salu, who declared that no more children should be sent away. His defiance embodied the Gwich’in principle of guut’àii, meaning “acting with one mind,” which emphasizes collective strength and governance. Today, as denialism regarding the impact of residential schools grows in Canada, the lessons of guut’àii are increasingly relevant.

Understanding the Strength of the North

The concept of strength, as articulated in the book By Strength, We Are Still Here: Indigenous Peoples and Indian Residential Schooling in Inuvik, Northwest Territories, goes beyond individual resilience. It encompasses kinship, collective responsibility, and ancestral knowledge. Despite the horrific conditions endured by children in residential schools, strength was also about maintaining connections with family and culture amid isolation.

In the North, where distances between communities were vast, students from various nations, including Dinjii Zhuh, Inuvialuit, and Inuit, came together. This shared experience fostered solidarity that would later fuel political movements in the 1970s. Notable Survivor memoirs, such as those by Stephen Kakfwi and Nick Sibbeston, highlight these alliances and their role in shaping pan-northern activism.

Confronting the Reality of Genocide

It is crucial to recognize that residential schools were not mere mistakes; they were institutions designed to dismantle Indigenous families and cultures. The United Nations defines genocide in part as the “forcibly transferring children of the group to another group,” a description that fits the Canadian residential school system. The testimony of Survivors collected by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) serves as both evidence of the pain inflicted and the strength demonstrated by Indigenous Peoples.

“To speak of strength is to hold both truths — genocide and survival — together.”

Despite the overwhelming evidence, denialism concerning residential schools has become more pronounced in public discourse. Historians Sean Carleton and Benjamin Kucher have noted that narratives downplaying the severity of these institutions undermine Indigenous voices and weaken commitments to truth and reconciliation.

Denialists propagate claims that the conditions in residential schools were exaggerated or that Survivors are being dishonest. Such narratives not only distort history but also affect contemporary responses to the ongoing search for missing children, where calls for “proof” can pressure communities to act hastily in unsafe conditions.

Surveys indicate a significant knowledge gap among Canadians regarding the legacy of residential schools. A 2024 Ipsos poll found that while 75 percent of Canadians believe governments should acknowledge this history more, awareness diminishes when specific questions arise. This gap creates fertile ground for denialist rhetoric, despite the TRC’s 94 Calls to Action aimed at addressing these issues.

Fortunately, there are numerous resources available for those seeking to educate themselves and take action. Initiatives such as the TRC’s ongoing work and the Calls for Justice from the National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls provide pathways for meaningful engagement. Additionally, resources like 150 Acts of Reconciliation and the extensive online materials at the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation are valuable for understanding these critical issues.

Moving Forward with Collective Strength

Confronting denialism through the lens of guut’àii means recognizing the voices of Survivors and supporting families in their journeys to seek truth. It entails connecting stories of suffering with narratives of resilience and transformation. Indigenous strength should be seen not just as survival but as a call for structural change. Children who endured the harsh realities of residential schools often went on to lead fulfilling lives and successful careers, illustrating that their achievements arose from Indigenous strength, not in spite of it.

Chief Salu’s legacy serves as a powerful reminder that the history of residential schools encompasses both trauma and resilience. By aligning with Survivors, advocating for Indigenous-led truth-telling, and rejecting denialism, Canadians can contribute to a future rooted in honesty, justice, and mutual respect.

Ultimately, strength is not solely about survival; it embodies how Indigenous Peoples have transformed oppression into collective action and continues to guide them in confronting denialism today. As Cristal Gail Fraser, a researcher supported by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, emphasizes, the path forward lies in embracing this collective ethic of guut’àii.