Editor’s note: The following story contains strong language from former students of the Christie Indian Residential School and references that may be upsetting to some readers.
Shattered glass.
Wailing cries soothed by traditional drums.
Wood cracked as the digger excavator tore into the roof of the old Christie Indian Residential School, releasing decades of bridled sorrow and anger.
“They gave me a sledgehammer. I went to town,” laughed Hesquiaht First Nation’s Cecil Sabbas, 74, who went to the Christie Indian Residential School for eight years.
“As I was hitting it I said, and pardon my language, ‘Take that you mother fucker!’ Every hit I did. Take that. When I finally finished and demolished it, I said, ‘Fuck you!’ I totally obliterated it,” he said.
Sabbas was one of dozens of Indian Residential School survivors to attend an Oct. 9 healing event on Meares Island. The site is in Ahousaht traditional territory, where the old Christie Indian Residential School was operated by the Roman Catholic Church from 1900 to 1971.
The main building at Old Christie, which housed the children’s sleeping quarters, classrooms, kitchen and chapel, burnt down in the mid 1980s. On Oct. 9, the Ahousaht Residential School Research team along with Ahousaht Haw'ił (hereditary chiefs) hosted a demolition event of the Old Christie gymnasium.
Sabbas said he knew it would be a hard day, but he wanted to attend because it would bring him some closure.
“For this place,” he said. “I have another place.”
After Grade 8, he was sent to St. Mary’s Residential School in Mission. B.C.; demolition of that former institution is under consideration, according to Sabbas.
“I remember them telling me how useless we would become, that we were just a burden on society. You’re never gonna amount to anything. And that was my driving force. I’m gonna show you mother fuckers. I’m going to amount to something. Today I own my own water taxi business, Full Moon Water Taxi. I showed them,” Sabbas shared.
He says his eyes often start to water when he sees his grandchildren dancing and singing traditional songs because he was never allowed to practice his language or traditions as a child.
“I got slapped. I got beat up. My grandson knows more about the language than I do. I always remind my children that they are so fortunate,” said Sabbas.
Hesquiaht Chief and leadership wrapped him and other Hesquiaht survivors in blankets during the healing day. The blanket gesture symbolizes wrapping of the inner child, so the place no longer has a hold on them; they are coming home.
“Whatever the Ahousaht First Nation decides to do with this piece of property will be infinitely better than what was here,” said Sabbas.
Janet Webster, 83, who comes from the Hesquiaht and Ahousaht First Nations, was wrapped in two blankets – one from Ahousaht leadership and another from Hesquiaht.
Webster attended Old Christie Residential School for nine years.
“I threw a stone at the door,” said Webster. “It didn’t’ really do anything for me. I’m okay now. Before I used to be so angry. One day, I just said to myself, ‘You know it’s no use being so angry’.”
“I used to be so angry because I wasn’t allowed to be close to my brothers or my parents,” she shared. “I forgave people that mistreated me years ago and I quit being angry. I think that’s when I started healing myself. Otherwise, I was always so angry. I think that was good for my health.”
Elder Michael Hunt survived St. Michael’s Residential School in Alert Bay.
“I was a young boy when they grabbed me. They separated a lot of family members,” he said beside the fire that burned throughout the length of heavy day.
“I’m happy to see no nuns or priests are here today because it’s a trigger. They sexually abused us. They raped us. It’s a reaction when we see them,” he said. “It took me a lot of years to get rid of that. I was an alcoholic for years. That’s how I got rid of my hurt.”
Hunt says he’s been sober for 24 years now. He joined the healing event on Meares Island to keep the fire going and to stand with anyone who needs support.
“Fire is our light. It’s what our ancestors have always given us. That fire is a life; it’s a living thing. In our smoke houses, in our big houses, we always have a fire going,” he said.
“Some people don’t want to leave the fire. They sit here. It’s a safe place to be. I’ve had people come here and talk to me. I understand what they’re going through because I went through the same thing,” added Hunt.
Ahousaht member and former Christie student Greg Louie spoke about resilience.
“Some of us had very difficult lives. It wasn’t easy when we left here. They may have taken away our clothes and cut our hair, but they didn’t take away our soul. They didn’t take away our łim̓aqsti (spirit). We are still here, and we will be here forever,” said Louie.
