Omicron builds at the intersection of education, research and technological innovation, aiming to deliver broad-based, high-impact education opportunities for over 500,000 Indigenous youth over the next decade. It’s the beginning of a new partnership of collegiate institutions and community-based organizations with the goal of closing the gap between Indigenous and non-Indigenous students.
This collaboration aims to strengthen connections and build bridges between different parts of the campus. And I think if we can, we can change something. How we teach and train for post-secondary and career opportunities is critically important, especially in parts of Canada where Indigenous peoples are generally marginalized. And I think if we can improve these relationships, many things will change.
Vancouver has, in part, shaped me as a journalist and public figure.
I was raised in northern British Columbia and my people call it the Mountain Empire. It was a place that was inextricably linked to the forests and mountains that surrounded us. I went from an idyllic childhood to adolescence at the peak of the Wild West. I was a dancer in vaudeville acts and, at the age of 20, I spent two years in the Roman Colosseum in Rome.
What I learned — as much as any newspaper report I’ve ever seen — is that the burden of Canadian history lies not with the former colonial rulers but with the descendants of the First Nations people.
Last summer, I came back to Vancouver as a reporter and anchor for the Global News. What I learned — as much as any newspaper report I’ve ever seen — is that the burden of Canadian history lies not with the former colonial rulers but with the descendants of the First Nations people.
I don’t like that. I don’t like colonialism. I don’t like our country’s past. We all must be accountable for our actions, including mine.
I spent part of my childhood in four different residential schools. Some of the things I saw were appalling. I learned so much about myself through those schools. I learned so much about my people from those schools. I worked so hard. I spent so much time there.
The problems our ancestors are facing today were buried by the words of those teachers who told us, “There is no way out of this.” I can’t let the mistakes of the past stand in the way of my continuing to learn and grow.
People say that change is difficult, that it’s like purging the past. They don’t understand the truth. For me, the truth is that many of the horrors of residential schools took place in communities where people lived and worked alongside members of other cultures. This is an egregious example of racism.
I think there are subtle messages that Indigenous people can find while participating in this project. One of those is when someone tells me, “You’re the first member of your family to go to university.” The answer is that this was expected of my ancestors. I don’t see it as an achievement in and of itself. I see it as a truth — an acknowledgement that we share our history and we face similar challenges today.
I hope that through this process, we can redefine things — perhaps for the better. I don’t believe that change will happen through lectures or textbooks or face-to-face meetings, but in all the things that are left unsaid or that are left unseen. I believe that great progress happens through the unspoken or under the surface. This is one part of a process that’s happening in college classrooms across Canada.