Second time around: notes on Ottawa’s National Day of Reconciliation

OTTAWA—The second annual National Day of Truth and Reconciliation events on Parliament Hill and at LeBreton Flats on Sept. 30 were pretty powerful. All you had to hear was part of Dennis Saddleman's recitation of his Monster poem, about one person's residential school trials and survival. Murray Sinclair, former chair of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), made a compassionate plea to get more residential school records released, more work done on burial sites, to obtain closure settlements and adopt more of the TRC recommendations. Sinclair said Reconciliation Day should be like Remembrance Day: to be observed and for all Canadians to take part. Even the prime minister was there this time, and not in a bathing suit on a beach in Tofino, B.C., where he was last year. I noted, however, there were very few federal employees whom Trudeau gave a paid day-off in attendance. One National Defence employee who was there told me that even on Remembrance Day her fellow employees were largely not in attendance. Most dramatic was the TRC's very long red banner with the names of thousands of children who disappeared and died (though not a complete list). It was brought on stage and televised with much ceremony. Earlier in the official program on Parliament Hill, drummers performed, and at one point, a young child repeated "Sing for the Children." Still earlier in the day and not part of the official program, Ottawa's poet laureate Albert Dumont led hundreds on a walk to advocate for changing the name of the Sir John A. Macdonald Parkway to Kichi Zibi (which translates as 'great river'). Speaking after the march, Dumont expressed satisfaction with the turnout, but wanted the roadway name change to happen quickly. Even entrepreneurs—with permits to boot—got in on the act at LeBreton Flats. Though strangely most were non-Indigenous, two young Indigenous entrepreneurs were there handing out their Lanark County 473 millilitres cans of bottled spring water they called FN (First Nations) Water. The cans came with a message to support clean drinking water for First Nations. On that subject of water, after I arrived early at LeBreton Flats before the hundreds of marchers came from Parliament Hill, I went towards the portable washrooms. There, I met an Indigenous woman trying to use the hand-washing station. But there was no water at that or any water station. Her comment to me was what they do to the Indigenous people: no water even to wash their hands. Being ever-diligent, I approached one of the event organizers, who, before the marchers arrived, got water for those wash basins and who later thanked me. A mini public health crisis was avoided, though hardly comparable to the many boil-water orders still in place on First Nations reserves. One other tidbit I observed: just outside the official railed-off VIP section: standing fewer than 20 feet from the prime minister, the Governor General, and other invited guests was a lone, silent sullen protester with a Trudeau autocracy sign, who looked like a known Freedom Convoy supporter. Whether Ottawa's police or other security forces present spotted him, I'm unsure. That was a moment of insecurity that most attendees probably never noticed or did not think much about. Certainly though, the main talk and discussions were about intergenerational sufferings brought on by residential schools and other injustices that had occurred, and that needed to be remedied. While Governor General Mary Simon's message was one of hope (the PM did not address those present), there was throughout the day's events more than a hint of bitterness, a constant state of grieving in the air, and some protesting. As more than one speaker said, the very least non-Indigenous people could do on this day and all other days was to listen. Ken Rubin is a long-time Hill commentator reachable via kenrubin.ca The Hill Times