While strolling on the sun-drenched granite walkway near the Peace Tower, I noticed two geometric shapes in the distance. As I got closer, the circular form was filled with teddy bears and other c toys, whereas the rectangle was filled with many pairs of worn-out shoes of various sizes and colours. My gaze was drawn to a pair of white patent shoes on a girl.
Two hundred and fifteen pairs of worn-out shoes.
Each pair represented an Indigenous child buried in an unmarked grave. Two hundred and fifteen pairs of shoes beckoned me closer, and as I did, I heard their whis-pering: “Walk in these shoes, and you will experience the impenetrable darkness we were subjected to.”
The silent beat of the metaphorical drums reverberated within me as the whis-pering continued: “Since time immemorial our ancestors freely walked on our land, yet in a blink of an eye we were buried in Terra Nullius.” This latest tragic discovery saddens me. I am disappointed by the lack of concrete actions by governments and church leaders. I lament most Canadians’ historical ignorance and indifference. An apology, possibly wrapped in monetary foil, will temporarily alleviate communal pain but will be forgotten.
Two hundred and fifteen pairs of worn-out shoes.
We must all work together to restore the Indigenous children and their kin’s duality of soul and dignity. This duality can be found in colonialist ethnological graveyards, beginning with the Pope’s Museum. This museum houses a treasure trove of Indigenous artifacts from around the world, making it a worthy representation of Indigenous Cultures. The ‘New World’ artifacts from the pre-Columbian to post-colonial eras are especially significant. Many years ago, during one of those innocuous visits to the Pope’s Museum, I became aware of this enormous collection.
Through a series of actions, I was able to obtain verbal approval from the Ethnological Department for a touring exhibit of 88 selected artifacts from the Pope’s Museum by 2014. The pieces would range from Nunavut to Tierra del Fuego’s indigenous art.
Soon after, I was informed by the Museum’s then-Director that the project was not feasible due to logistical and less obvious financial reasons. This U-turn prompted me to seek the support of the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops and Pope Francis. “… the project, as interesting and instructive as it may be, cannot be undertaken or supported by the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops given the nature of the Conference itself, its scope, function, and mandate“, the former responded. Instead, the Pope’s response was: “Although it is praiseworthy for each country to deepen its appreciation of its past in order to better understand its own historical and cultural heritage, I regret that it is not possible for the Vatican Museums to collaborate on the proposal”.
We must act in unison and petition the Pope to acknowledge the socio-cultural aggression inflicted on Indigenous people. With the growing awareness of the erasure of Indigenous ways of life, the act of opening the chest without embarrassment is timely. The artifacts in the Pope’s Museum provide a bridge that span the ‘river of tears’. On one side, there is the past, with its centuries-old lore, and on the other, there is the future, with its healing journey of cultural reckoning.
Indigenous artifacts coexist mostly unnoticed with European high art, such as Michelangelo’s Pieta. That evocative sculpture of Mary’s anguish over her child’s death recalls the anguish of the mothers of the two hundred and fifteen indigenous children. “I’m beginning to understand what it’s like for a mother to lose her child,” a bystander said.
These historical works of art will spark a critical dialogue, potentially leading to cultural restitution. Completely opening the treasure chest and proclaiming ‘Urbi et Orbi’ by he of the white cassock will be an illuminating gesture to the Indigenous Peoples of the World, particularly to the two hundred and fifteen missing children, that they have not been ignored.
The sun had already set on the girl’s white patent shoes. Its wearer was nowhere to be found, so I looked up and imagined her riding the billowing white clouds of the sky world towards the many other missing children.
The agony continues…
