The Truth and Reconciliation Commissions Missing Voices

By James Balkwill Was the Truth and Reconciliation Commission what it appeared to be? My short answer is no. Reading this—“The Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada’s mandate was to inform Canadians about the history and impacts of the Indian Residential School system, document the truths of survivors and affected communities, and guide reconciliation efforts for a better future”—would lead people to believe that the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s information-gathering and statement-taking process allowed any and all who attended an Indian Residential School to speak about their experiences, whether those experiences were negative or positive. That would have been necessary to ensure a balanced intake process; otherwise, the final report would be inaccurate. The problem is that when people with positive stories about their time at Indian Residential Schools came forward, they were redirected and/or turned away. Why? As an Indigenous person, if you or your family members had attended an Indian Residential School, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s highly publicized intake process—which ran for six years and included more than 400 outreach events and local and national “statement-gathering” sessions—was presented as an opportunity for anyone to share their experiences. Those with stories of abuse, or who knew someone who had been abused while attending an Indian Residential School, were invited to tell their stories in what was presented as a safe, unquestioning environment and were eligible for financial compensation. At the time the Truth and Reconciliation Commission conducted its intake process, more than 80,000 Indigenous people who had attended an Indian Residential School were still alive. In the end, only 6,750 individuals came forward to report abuse. That leaves more than 73,250 Indigenous individuals who apparently had no stories of abuse, but who may have had neutral or even positive experiences. When the math is done, this represents an 8.38 percent complaint rate—a figure that, given that corporal punishment was legally permitted in Canadian schools at the time, is comparable to rates that could be expected in other educational institutions of that era. At minimum, this suggests that the Truth and Reconciliation Commission failed to meet its own mandate, rendering its final report incomplete and inaccurate. Despite the language of inclusivity in the commission’s mandate, many former students were never given the opportunity to provide testimony simply because they were not abused. As a result, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s report contains a clear reporting bias and lacks balance. From both an academic and evidentiary standpoint, it is therefore unreliable. It is clear that despite the wholesome language surrounding its mandate, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission operated with a hidden agenda—namely, to construct a report designed to achieve a predetermined outcome, one that could later be used to influence court proceedings for monetary and political gain.