As the eagle flies, it’s only about 100 kilometres from Kelowna to Kamloops, British Columbia. But, after the May 27 discovery of the remains of 215 children in an unmarked burial site near the former Kamloops Indian Residential School, it might as well be a million.
As much as I miss him, I’m glad my old friend Andy Scott is not around to learn about this tragedy. As one of the architects of The Kelowna Accord, and the minister of Indian Affairs and Northern Development who helped guide the landmark agreement through 18 months of consultation, he would be heartbroken.
Announced in November 2005, when Paul Martin was prime minister, the Kelowna Accord was designed to “close the gap” between Indigenous and non-Indigenous standards of living in Canada. The accord was based on discussions between the federal government, provincial and territorial governments, and five national Indigenous organizations.
The forward-thinking plan included a $5 billion commitment over five years. Over the next ten years, it would have significantly improved health, education, housing and infrastructure, economic opportunities, accountability, and relationships between Indigenous communities and the federal government.
It was not to be, however. When Stephen Harper’s Conservative government came to power in 2006, the landmark agreement withered and died. Another tragedy in the long and shameful history of the way Canada’s Indigenous People have been treated and continue to be treated by the federal and provincial governments.
Residential schools operated in Canada for more than 160 years, with upwards of 150,000 children passing through their doors. An article published by the Canadian Catholic Historical Association (CCHA, Historical Studies, 61 (1995), 13-40) records that as far back as 1807–60 years before Confederation–an Anglican school in Sussex Vale, New Brunswick was “to provide twenty boarding places in the school and maintain an equal number of day spaces for children who were to be indentured locally.” The school’s residential program restricted children’s contact with their families and even included infants.
First Nations, Métis and Inuit children were removed, often against their will, from their families and communities and put into schools. They were forced to abandon their traditions, cultural practices and languages as a part of a broader plan of “aggressive assimilation” and colonization of Indigenous Peoples and territories in Canada. The last residential school closed in Saskatchewan in 1996.
The more I read about the tragedy in Kamloops, the more I think about Andy and the heartbreak he would be experiencing over this news had he not passed away in 2013. I recall him telling me numerous times how difficult he found it emotionally listening to the stories of abuse he heard as an honourary witness for the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Anyone reading these words who knew Andy well knows how deeply those stories would have affected him.
Among my favourite stories that show the kind of man Andy Scott was, involve the time when, as a UNB student, he held a part-time job driving a school bus for young people with disabilities. He told me once over a glass of wine in Ottawa’s Byward Market that sometimes after the last student left the bus, he would be almost overwhelmed with emotion as he watched them make their way to school in his rear-view mirror.
In July 2012, shortly after Andy was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, the people of Metepenagiag Mi’kmaq First Nation, near Miramichi, presented him with a bear claw necklace. The claw – a long, dark-brown nail about as long as an index finger – symbolizes strength, something Andy felt he needed as he underwent cancer treatment. The gesture symbolizes how respected Andy was by Indigenous People throughout Canada.
“He was one of the most compassionate human beings that I’ve ever known,” former New Brunswick premier Frank McKenna told the Canadian Press in 2013. “He loved everybody, political adversaries included. He reached out to everybody. He listened to everybody.
“I think the plight of aboriginals really struck a chord with him,” McKenna added. “He was probably, and will continue to be, the most admired ever minister of a federal government involved with the aboriginal community.”
Thinking about Andy now, I see him wearing that bear claw necklace, which gave him strength. The question is not what he would do if he were still with us but rather what he is doing. I like to believe he’s parked his school bus in front of that evil place in Kamloops and, along with the families and loved ones of those beautiful Indigenous children buried so coldly in the ground, is doing all he can to get them safely home.
I think this article is very insightful as to the compassion for others that motivated Andy Scott and the tragedy of promises made to the indigenous people that still wait to be fulfilled. Andy was also my friend and I actually hired him as one of our Venture Van drivers operated by CRCD (now Easter Seals NB) in the days before the Department of Education provided transportation for students with disabilities. Andy became a national champion for persons with disabilities and changed the debate from charitable supports to one of Full Citizenship for All. We recognize his contributions each year during Disability Awareness Week with the Honourable Andy Scott Award which will be announced again shortly. Thank you for drawing attention to him during these difficult times. Perhaps his memory will help lead to concrete action.
Kudos to Lane for coming up with this essay. Couldn’t be any more timely and his focus on Andy Scott is completely on point. I remember talking to Andy after that election where Stephen Harper took over. I remember his biggest concern is that all the progress that had been made and all the promise the Kelona Accord represented would not survive. His fears were realized when Harper killed it. It had been on track and would have been transformational. Of all the initiatives that don’t survive a change in government, I can’t think of one that would have made more of a positive difference for so many people.