-   The legacy
    -   Child welfare
        -   Disturbing data
        -   Death and abuse of children in care
        -   Delivery of child-welfare services
        -   Lack of adequate funding
        -   Jurisdictional disputes
        -   Improving outcomes for children
    -   Education
        -   Education and the income gap
        -   Funding inequities
        -   Education reform
        -   Métis and Inuit education
        -   Post-secondary education
        -   Early childhood education programs
    -   Language and culture
        -   Language rights
        -   Government programs
        -   Reclaiming names
    -   Health
        -   The health gap
        -   Measuring progress
        -   Aboriginal healing practices
    -   Justice
        -   RCMP independence compromised
        -   Unnecessary insistence on corroboration
        -   Few criminal prosecutions
        -   Civil litigation
        -   Limitation periods
        -   Educating lawyers
        -   Aftermath of the Settlement Agreement
        -   Exclusions from the Settlement
        -   Overrepresentation of Aboriginal people in prison
        -   Community programs
        -   Mandatory minimum sentences
        -   Offenders with FASD
        -   Cultural services in prisons and jails
        -   Parole and community supports
        -   Overrepresentation of youth
        -   Victimization of Aboriginal people
        -   Violence against Aboriginal women and girls
        -   Strategies for change
    -   Endnotes

The legacy

  I want Canadians to understand that [the legacy of the residential schools]
  does not just affect the lives of the person who actually attended the school,
  but family members, such as spouses and children, are also very deeply
  affected about this sad legacy in history.

  — Johanne Coutu-Autut, spouse of former Turquetil Hall resident[1]

Residential schools are a tragic part of Canada’s history. But they cannot
simply be consigned to history. The legacy from the schools and the political
and legal policies and mechanisms surrounding their history continue to this
day. This is reflected in the significant educational, income, health, and
social disparities between Aboriginal people and other Canadians. It is
reflected in the intense racism some people harbour against Aboriginal people
and in the systemic and other forms of discrimination Aboriginal people
regularly experience in this country. It is reflected too in the critically
endangered status of most Aboriginal languages.

Current conditions such as the disproportionate apprehension of Aboriginal
children by child-welfare agencies and the disproportionate imprisonment and
victimization of Aboriginal people can be explained in part as a result or
legacy of the way that Aboriginal children were treated in residential schools
and were denied an environment of positive parenting, worthy community leaders,
and a positive sense of identity and self-worth. The schools could be brutal
places, as Joseph Martin Larocque, a former student at the Beauval residential
school in Saskatchewan, told the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada.

  [Residential school] was a very harsh environment. They, they treated us like
  criminals.… You, you had to, it’s like a prison. But we were small kids, and
  we didn’t understand. We didn’t understand harsh discipline. We, we understood
  love from our, our parents. But the harsh discipline was hard to take, and
  that happened to everybody, not only me.[2]

The impacts of the legacy of residential schools have not ended with those who
attended the schools. They affected the Survivors’ partners, their children,
their grandchildren, their extended families, and their communities. Children
who were abused in the schools sometimes went on to abuse others. Many students
who spoke to the Commission said they developed addictions as a means of coping.
Students who were treated and punished like prisoners in the schools often
graduated to real prisons. For many, the path from residential school to prison
was a short one. Mervin Mirasty was a student at the Beauval residential school.

  I ran away from school. I’d go out, I’d walk around town, and steal whatever I
  could steal.… I started stealing cars. I got caught at fifteen. I ended up in
  jail. From that point of fifteen years old ’til … to the year 2000, I got
  sentenced to twenty-five years all together, twenty-five years all together.
  And I don’t know what I was fighting, what I was trying to do. I didn’t care
  who I stole from. I drank. I started drinking when I was about seventeen,
  eighteen. I drank, I stole, I hardly worked. I used the system, the welfare
  system, and plus I stole, and I drank.[3]

Children exposed to strict and regimented discipline in the schools sometimes
found it difficult to become loving parents. Genine Paul-Dimitracopoulos’s
mother was placed in the Shubenacadie residential school in Nova Scotia at a
very early age. Paul-Dimitracopoulos told the Commission that knowing this, and
what the school was like, helped her understand “how we grew up because my mom
never really showed us love when we were kids coming up. She, when I was hurt or
cried, she was never there to console you or to hug you. If I hurt myself she
would never give me a hug and tell me it would be okay. I didn’t understand
why.”[4] Alma Scott of Winnipeg told the Commission that as “a direct result of
those residential schools because I was a dysfunctional mother.… I spent over
twenty years of my life stuck in a bottle in an addiction where I didn’t want to
feel any emotions so I numbed out with drugs and with alcohol…. That’s how I
raised my children, that’s what my children saw, and that’s what I saw.”[5]

The Commission is convinced that genuine reconciliation will not be possible
until the complex legacy of the schools is understood, acknowledged, and
addressed. Parliament and the Supreme Court have recognized that the legacy of
residential schools should be considered when sentencing Aboriginal offenders.
Although these have been important measures, they have not been sufficient to
address the grossly disproportionate imprisonment of Aboriginal people, which
continues to grow, in part because of a lack of adequate funding and support for
culturally appropriate alternatives to imprisonment.

More First Nations child-welfare agencies have been established, but the
disproportionate apprehension of Aboriginal children also continues to grow. In
part, this has happened because of a lack of adequate funding for culturally
appropriate supports that would allow children to remain safely with their
families, or to allow children to be placed in foster or adoptive environments
that are culturally appropriate and capable of giving children a sense of
identity, self-respect, and self-worth.

Many of the individual and collective harms have not yet been redressed, even
after the negotiated out-of-court settlement of the residential school
litigation in 2006, and Canada’s apology in 2008. In fact, some of the damages
done by residential schools to Aboriginal families, languages, education, and
health may be perpetuated and even worsened as a result of current governmental
policies. New policies can easily be based on a lack of understanding of
Aboriginal people, similar to that which motivated the schools. For example,
current child-welfare and health policies that fail to take into account the
importance of community in raising children can result in inappropriate decision
making. We must learn from the failure of the schools in order to ensure that
the mistakes of the past are not repeated in the future.

Despite the challenges and failings in responding to the legacy of residential
schools, and a concern that the federal government may have lost a sense of
urgency on these issues since the 2006 Indian Residential Schools Settlement
Agreement and Canada’s apology in 2008, the Commission is nonetheless cautiously
optimistic that promising pathways to constructive reforms do exist. These could
include new strategies based on respect for Aboriginal self-determination and
for Canada’s obligations under Treaties, and Canada’s endorsement of the new
United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.

In its February 2012 Interim Report, the Commission observed that the United
Nations Declaration provides a valuable framework for working towards ongoing
reconciliation between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Canadians. We continue to
encourage all governments, and all the legal parties to the Settlement
Agreement, to use it as such a framework.[6]

The Government of Canada initially refused to adopt the Declaration. When it
finally did endorse the Declaration, it did not fully embrace its principles,
saying that “it is a non-legally binding document that does not reflect
customary international law nor change Canadian laws.”[7] The Commission is
convinced that a refusal to respect the rights and remedies in the Declaration
will serve to further aggravate the legacy of residential schools, and will
constitute a barrier to progress towards reconciliation.

Child welfare

Residential schools, as acknowledged by the prime minister’s own admission in
his 2008 official apology from Canada, were an attack on Aboriginal children and
families. They were based on racist attitudes that considered Aboriginal
families as being frequently unfit to care for their children. By removing
children from their communities and by subjecting them to strict discipline,
religious indoctrination, and a regimented life more akin to life in a prison
than a family, residential schools often harmed the subsequent ability of the
students to be caring parents. In many ways, the schools were more a
child-welfare system than an educational one. A survey in 1953 suggested that of
10,112 students then in residential schools, 4,313 were either orphans or from
what were described as “broken homes.”[8] From the 1940s onwards, residential
schools increasingly served as orphanages and child-welfare facilities. By 1960,
the federal government estimated that 50% of the children in residential schools
were there for child-welfare reasons.[9]

The residential school experience was followed by the “Sixties Scoop”—the
widescale national apprehension of Aboriginal children by child-welfare
agencies. Childwelfare authorities removed thousands of Aboriginal children from
their families and communities and placed them in non-Aboriginal homes without
taking steps to preserve their culture and identity. Children were placed in
homes across Canada, in the United States, and even overseas. This practice
actually extended well beyond the 1960s, until at least the mid- to late
1980s.[10]

Today, the effects of the residential school experience and the Sixties Scoop
have adversely affected parenting skills and the success of many Aboriginal
families. These factors, combined with prejudicial attitudes toward Aboriginal
parenting skills and a tendency to see Aboriginal poverty as a symptom of
neglect, rather than as a consequence of failed government policies, have
resulted in grossly disproportionate rates of child apprehension among
Aboriginal people. A 2011 Statistics Canada study found that 14,225 or 3.6% of
all First Nations children aged fourteen and under were in foster care, compared
with 15,345 or 0.3% of non-Aboriginal children.[11] As Old Crow Chief Norma
Kassi said at the Northern National Event in Inuvik, “The doors are closed at
the residential schools but the foster homes are still existing and our children
are still being taken away.”[12] The Commission agrees: Canada’s child-welfare
system has simply continued the assimilation that the residential school system
started.

Canada’s child-welfare crisis has not gone unnoticed in the international
community. In 2012, the United Nations Committee on the Rights of the Child
expressed to Canada its concern about the frequent removal of children in Canada
from families as a “first resort” in cases of neglect, financial hardship, or
disability. In its report, the committee singled out the frequency with which
Aboriginal children are placed outside their communities.[13] Noting that Canada
had failed to act on its own auditor general’s findings of inequitable
child-welfare funding, the committee concluded that “urgent measures” were
needed to address the discriminatory overrepresentation of Aboriginal children
in out-of-home care.[14]

Disturbing data

The First Nations Component of the Canadian Incidence Study of Reported Child
Abuse and Neglect, designed by the Public Health Agency of Canada and its
provincial, academic, and agency partners, confirmed that Aboriginal children in
the geographic areas studied are also significantly overrepresented as subjects
of child maltreatment investigations. For every 1,000 First Nations children,
there were 140.6 child maltreatment-related investigations, as compared with
33.5 investigations for non-Aboriginal children.[15] The rate of investigations
involving First Nations children was 4.2 times the rate of non-Aboriginal
investigations.[16] The study also found that in the population under review,
those allegations were more likely to be substantiated in the cases of First
Nations children. This was true for all categories of maltreatment, but the
difference was most extreme for investigations of neglect.[17] Investigations of
First Nations families for neglect were substantiated at a rate eight times
greater than for the non-Aboriginal population.[18]

An analysis of the Canadian Incidence Study confirmed that poverty and social
stressors are major factors in child-welfare investigations involving Aboriginal
families. Aboriginal parents were more likely to experience a host of serious
risk factors, including domestic violence, alcohol abuse, lack of social
supports, drug or solvent abuse, and a history of living in foster care or group
homes.[19] The direct connection between Aboriginal poverty and high
child-welfare apprehensions has been known for half a century. Yet, Aboriginal
children are still taken away from their parents because their parents are poor.

Researchers suggest that clear standards are needed to guide apprehensions, and
that the provision of family supports and prevention services might be a better
response to concerns than removal of the child.[20] There must be a commitment
to reducing the number of Aboriginal children in care and developing supports to
keep families together. Child-welfare workers must bring to their work an
understanding of Aboriginal culture as well as an understanding of the lasting
harms caused by residential schools.

Call to Action

1)  We call upon the federal, provincial, territorial, and Aboriginal
    governments to commit to reducing the number of Aboriginal children in care
    by:

i.  Monitoring and assessing neglect investigations.

ii. Providing adequate resources to enable Aboriginal communities and
    child-welfare organizations to keep Aboriginal families together where it is
    safe to do so, and to keep children in culturally appropriate environments,
    regardless of where they reside.

iii. Ensuring that social workers and others who conduct child-welfare
     investigations are properly educated and trained about the history and
     impacts of residential schools.

iv. Ensuring that social workers and others who conduct child-welfare
    investigations are properly educated and trained about the potential for
    Aboriginal communities and families to provide more appropriate solutions to
    family healing.

v.  Requiring that all child-welfare decision makers consider the impact of the
    residential school experience on children and their caregivers.

Better research and data are also required in order to monitor and develop
strategies to reduce the overrepresentation of Aboriginal children in care.

Call to Action

2)  We call upon the federal government, in collaboration with the provinces and
    territories, to prepare and publish annual reports on the number of
    Aboriginal children (First Nations, Inuit, and Métis) who are in care,
    compared with non-Aboriginal children, as well as the reasons for
    apprehension, the total spending on preventive and care services by
    child-welfare agencies, and the effectiveness of various interventions.

Death and abuse of children in care

The child-welfare system apprehends too many Aboriginal children while, at the
same time, failing to protect them. The Commission heard many stories of
mistreatment in foster homes. One woman told us that her foster parents
physically and sexually abused her. Her Aboriginal identity was constantly
disparaged. She said, “[My foster parents were] adamant about Aboriginal culture
being less than human, living as dirty bush people, eating rats. It made me not
want to be one of those people. And for years, I didn’t know how to be proud of
who I was because I didn’t know who I was.”[21]

Linda Clarke was placed in a foster home with three other children.

  In that foster home there was a pedophile, and I don’t [know] what was
  happening to anybody else, but I became his target. The mother used to always
  send me to do errands with him. And so every time, he would make me do things
  to him and then he would give me candy. Also, in that home there was no
  hugging of us foster kids or anything like that. And I carried a great guilt
  for many, many years, because sometimes I didn’t want to resist it, I just….
  But I knew it was very bad.[22]

Sometimes, child-welfare placements end in tragedy. Where there are
province-specific statistics available, the findings suggest that in some parts
of the country, Aboriginal children who come into contact with child-welfare
authorities are significantly more likely to die.

Research in Alberta indicated that 78% of children who have died in foster care
between 1999 and mid-2013 were Aboriginal.[23] Since Aboriginal children, a
minority of the overall population, represent 59% of children in care in
Alberta, the rate of Aboriginal child deaths in care is even more
disproportionate than the apprehension rate. Of the seventy-four recorded deaths
of Aboriginal children in care, thirteen were due to accidents, twelve children
committed suicide, and ten children were the victims of homicide.[24] Forty-five
of these Aboriginal children died while in the care of a provincial
child-welfare agency, and twenty-nine died in the care of an on-reserve First
Nations child and family service agency.

Delivery of child-welfare services

There are over 300 child-welfare agencies in Canada operating under provincial
and territorial jurisdiction. In addition, Canada provides funding to over 100
agencies delivering child and family services to First Nations families under
the framework of provincial legislation.[25] In 2010–11, there were 9,241 First
Nations children outside the parental home and in the care of these First
Nations child and family service agencies, representing 5.5% of on-reserve
children.[26] A few larger Canadian cities (such as Toronto and Vancouver) also
have Aboriginal child and family service agencies.[27] In Manitoba, there is
also an agency serving Métis families. There are, however, no Aboriginally
controlled agencies in the three northern territories; child-welfare services to
Aboriginal families there are provided through the same government agencies that
serve all children. In two out of the three territories, Aboriginal people make
up a majority of the members in their legislatures and cabinets.

Although the federal government acknowledges its responsibility for
child-welfare services to First Nations families, Métis communities are not well
served. The Commission believes that adequately funded, Métis-specific, child
and family services must be made available to Métis children and families. The
Government of Canada should not let unresolved jurisdictional disputes stand in
the way of the acceptance of such responsibilities. Similarly, the Commission
believes the Government of Canada should ensure the development of adequately
resourced Inuit child-welfare services in the North and in urban centres such as
Ottawa and Montreal that have a significant Inuit population.

Lack of adequate funding

Proof of the effectiveness of First Nations child and family service agencies is
still preliminary, but anecdotal evidence and case studies suggest that First
Nation agencies are more effective than non-Aboriginal agencies in providing
service to First Nation clients.[28] But, it is troubling that the ability of
First Nations child and family services agencies to develop culturally
appropriate services has been constrained by limited funding. Of twelve First
Nations agencies surveyed in 2005, 83.4% reported that they did not receive
adequate funds to ensure culturally appropriate services.[29] It is clear that
the way in which Canada has funded Aboriginal child welfare has hampered First
Nations agencies in providing effective services. This shortfall continues to
inflict pain on Aboriginal families and communities, and contributes to the
continuing overrepresentation of Aboriginal children in foster care.

Jurisdictional disputes

Jurisdictional responsibility for child welfare is intensely contested.
Historically, the federal government and provincial and territorial governments
have tried to shift responsibility for Aboriginal child services from one level
of government to another. The federal position is that responsibility for child
and family services lies solely within the jurisdiction of the provinces and
territories. Canada contends that the federal government is responsible for
funding only on-reserve services. In contrast, the provinces maintain that the
federal government has constitutional responsibility for ‘Indians,’ and argue
that Ottawa has off-loaded that responsibility to the provinces to provide
services to an increasingly urban, non-reserve population.[30]

The result is that there are often disputes over which level of government or
department is responsible for paying costs. The repercussions of these disputes
can be serious, with Aboriginal children paying the highest price—in particular,
children with complex developmental, mental health, and physical health
issues.[31]

In 2007, the House of Commons unanimously supported the adoption of “Jordan’s
Principle,” named in honour of a Manitoba infant born with complex medical needs
who spent all of his short life in hospital, caught up in a federal–provincial
jurisdictional dispute over responsibility for funding his care.[32] According
to Jordan’s Principle, the government department that is first contacted for a
service available only off-reserve must pay for it and later pursue
reimbursement for the expenses.[33] But Jordan’s Principle was not passed into
law; rather, it is a statement of principle by the Canadian parliament.[34] Many
inter-governmental cases of disputed responsibility continue.

Call to Action:

3)  We call upon all levels of government to fully implement Jordan’s Principle.

Improving outcomes for children

Although there is now considerable Aboriginal control of child-welfare services,
Aboriginal agencies still struggle for adequate funding. There is a need for
more funding and research into preventive services that can support Aboriginal
families. At the same time, many of the conditions that result in
disproportionate Aboriginal involvement in the child-welfare system are related
to more intractable legacies of residential schools, including poverty,
addictions, and domestic and sexual violence. We believe that in order to
redress the legacy of residential schools and to move towards more respectful
and healthy relationships, the Government of Canada, in meaningful consultation
with First Nations, Inuit, and Métis communities, must recognize and address the
broader context of the child-welfare crisis. This includes matters of child
poverty, housing, water, sanitation, food security, family violence, addictions,
and educational inequities. Effective child-welfare reform will require both
measureable targets and timelines for reducing the numbers and proportion of
Aboriginal children in care, greater consistency in the system’s regulatory
framework, and the acknowledgement of the central role of Aboriginal agencies.

Canada has rejected First Nations’ demands to operate services in accordance
with traditional laws and traditional justice systems. By contrast, in the
United States, tribal courts have played an important role in the child-welfare
system since 1978. These courts have exclusive jurisdiction over custody
proceedings involving Native American children living on a reservation. They may
also play a role in Native American child-custody cases where the child lives
outside a reservation.[35] While not perfect, the American system has led to
greater tribal authority over the placement of Indigenous children, as well as
the expansion of family preservation programs. Indigenous children are still
removed from their homes in disproportionately high numbers, but the rate of
overrepresentation has decreased. The rate of placement with non-Indigenous
caregivers has also decreased.[36]

Call to Action

4)  We call upon the federal government to enact Aboriginal child-welfare
    legislation that establishes national standards for Aboriginal child
    apprehension and custody cases and includes principles that:

i.  Affirm the right of Aboriginal governments to establish and maintain their
    own child-welfare agencies.

ii. Require all child-welfare agencies and courts to take the residential school
    legacy into account in their decision making.

iii. Establish, as an important priority, a requirement that placements of
     Aboriginal children into temporary and permanent care be culturally
     appropriate.

There is also a human dimension to improving outcomes for Aboriginal children.
The intergenerational impact of the residential school experience has left some
families without strong role models for parenting. An investment in culturally
appropriate programs in Aboriginal communities has the potential to improve
parenting skills and enable more children to grow up safely in their own
families and communities.

Call to Action

5)  We call upon the federal, provincial, territorial, and Aboriginal
    governments to develop culturally appropriate parenting programs for
    Aboriginal families.

Education

The residential school system failed as an education system. It was based on
racist assumptions about the intellectual and cultural inferiority of Aboriginal
people—the belief that Aboriginal children were incapable of attaining anything
more than a rudimentary elementary-level or vocational education. Consequently,
for most of the system’s history, the majority of students never progressed
beyond elementary school. The government and church officials who operated the
residential schools ignored the positive emphasis that the Treaties and many
Aboriginal families placed on education. Instead, they created dangerous and
frightening institutions that provided little learning.

In their mission to ‘civilize’ and Christianize, the school staff relied on
corporal punishment to discipline their students. That punishment often crossed
the line into physical abuse. Although it is employed much less frequently now,
corporal punishment is still legally permissible in schools and elsewhere under
Canadian law. Section 43 of the Criminal Code says: “Every schoolteacher, parent
or person standing in the place of a parent is justified in using force by way
of correction toward a pupil or child, as the case may be, who is under his
care, if the force does not exceed what is reasonable under the circumstances.”
The Commission believes that corporal punishment is a relic of a discredited
past and has no place in Canadian schools or homes.

Call to Action

6)  We call upon the Government of Canada to repeal Section 43 of the Criminal
    Code of Canada.

The objectives of the schools were to strip away Aboriginal children’s
identities and assimilate them into Western Christian society. Doris Young, who
attended the Elkhorn residential school in Manitoba, described the experience as
a systematic attack on her identity as a Cree person.

  Those schools were a war on Aboriginal children, and they took away our
  identity. First of all, they gave us numbers, we had no names, we were
  numbers, and they cut our hair. They took away our clothes, and gave us
  clothes … we all looked alike. Our hair was all the same, cut us into bangs,
  and straight short, straight hair up to our ears…. They took away our
  moccasins, and gave us shoes. I was just a baby. I didn’t actually wear shoes,
  we wore moccasins. And so our identity was immediately taken away when we
  entered those schools.[37]

In addition to the emotional and psychological damage they inflicted, one of the
most far-reaching and devastating legacies of residential schools has been their
impact on the educational and economic success of Aboriginal people. The lack of
role models and mentors, insufficient funds for the schools, inadequate
teachers, and unsuitable curricula generally taught in a foreign language—and
sometimes by teachers who were also not proficient in the language of
instruction—have all contributed to dismal success rates for Aboriginal
education. These conditions were compounded for many students by the challenges
of trying to learn in environments rendered traumatic by homesickness, hunger,
fear, abuse, and institutionalized helplessness. The Commission has heard many
examples of students who attended residential school for eight or more years,
but left with nothing more than Grade Three achievement, and sometimes without
even the ability to read. According to Indian Affairs annual reports, in the
1950s, only half of each year’s enrolment got to Grade Six.[38]

Poor educational achievement has led to the chronic unemployment or
under-employment, poverty, poor housing, substance abuse, family violence, and
ill health that many former students of the schools have suffered as adults.
Although educational success rates are slowly improving, Aboriginal Canadians
still have dramatically lower educational and economic achievements than other
Canadians.

Education is a fundamental human and Aboriginal right, guaranteed in Treaties,
in international law, and in the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. In
particular, the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples
contains a powerful statement on the right to education under community control.
The Declaration states, “Indigenous peoples have the right to establish and
control their educational systems and institutions providing education in their
own languages, in a manner appropriate to their cultural methods of teaching and
learning.”[39] The Commission believes that fulfilling the promise of the
Declaration will be key to overcoming the legacy of the residential schools.

Education and the income gap

It is not surprising that, faced with terrible conditions and mostly ineffective
teaching, many students left school as soon as they could. A 2010 study of
Aboriginal parents and children living off reserves found that the high school
completion rate is lower for former residential school students (28%) than for
those who did not attend (36%).[40] Only 7% of the parents who attended
residential school have obtained a university degree, compared with 10% for
those Aboriginal parents who had never attended these institutions.[41]

Although secondary school graduation rates for all Aboriginal people have
improved since the closure of the schools, considerable gaps remain when
compared with the rates for the non-Aboriginal population. For example,
according to the 2006 census, 34% of Aboriginal adults had not graduated from
high school, compared with only 15% of their non-Aboriginal counterparts.[42] In
the 2011 census, these numbers improved slightly, with 29% of Aboriginal people
not graduating from high school, compared with 12% in the non-Aboriginal
population.[43]

It is significant that the lowest levels of educational success are in those
communities with the highest percentages of descendants of residential school
Survivors: First Nations people living on reserves, and Inuit. Both groups have
a high school completion rate of 41% or less.[44]

The statistics for First Nations people living off reserves and for Métis are
somewhat better. More than 60% of First Nations people living off reserves and
65% to 75% of Métis people have graduated from high school (although these
results are still below the national average).[45]

Lower educational attainment for the children of Survivors has severely limited
their employment and earning potential, just as it did for their parents.
Aboriginal people have lower median after-tax income, are more likely to
experience unemployment, and are more likely to collect employment insurance and
social assistance benefits.[46] This situation is true for all Aboriginal
groups, with some variations. In 2009, the Métis unemployment rate for persons
aged twenty-five to fifty-four was 9.4%, while the non-Aboriginal rate was
7.0%.[47] In 2006, the Inuit unemployment rate was 19%.[48] The true rates of
unemployment for people living on reserves are difficult to ascertain because of
limited data collection.[49]

Aboriginal people also have incomes well below their non-Aboriginal
counterparts. The median income for Aboriginal people in 2006 was 30% lower than
the median income for non-Aboriginal workers ($18,962 versus $27,097,
respectively).[50] The gap narrows when Aboriginal people obtain a university
degree, which they do at a far lower rate.[51] Not surprisingly, the child
poverty rate for Aboriginal children is also very high—40%, compared with 17%
for all children in Canada.[52] The income gap is pervasive: non-Aboriginal
Canadians earn more than Aboriginal workers no matter whether they work on
reserves, off reserves, or in urban, rural, or remote locations.[53]

The proportion of Aboriginal adults below the poverty line, regardless of age
and gender, is much higher than that of non-Aboriginal adults, with differences
ranging from 7.8% for adult men aged sixty-five or older, to 22.5% for adult
women aged sixty-five or older.[54] The depth of poverty is also much greater,
with Aboriginal people having an average income that falls further below the
poverty line on average than that of non-Aboriginal adults, and their poverty is
more likely to have persisted for a significant period of time.[55]

Call to Action

7)  We call upon the federal government to develop with Aboriginal groups a
    joint strategy to eliminate educational and employment gaps between
    Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Canadians.

Funding inequities

Present-day Aboriginal education in Canada is made up of a mix of models. The
federal government funds schools on reserves, with the actual operation of those
schools often delegated to the local First Nation. Aboriginal children who do
not live on reserves are educated through the provincial or territorial school
systems. In addition, there are a few education systems completely run and
managed by First Nations through self-government and other types of
intergovernmental agreements.

There are approximately 72,000 students attending 518 First Nation schools.[56]
Despite those numbers, many children must still leave their homes and families
behind if they wish to obtain a higher education, even at the high school level.

Since 1973, the Government of Canada has claimed that it is committed to
devolving control of education to First Nations people.[57] However, the
interpretation of “Indian control” offered by the Government of Canada bears
little resemblance to the vision of First Nations. The government’s version of
the term has entailed the devolution of federal education programs to First
Nations, without the benefit of adequate funding or statutory authority.[58]
Indeed, when devolution began, it was designed to occur without any additional
expense. This meant that former Indian Affairs-operated schools, which were
already substandard compared with provincial norms, were handed over to the
First Nation bands to run, but without giving the bands the means to operate
them effectively. As a result, the curriculum for the majority of First Nation
schools is virtually identical to that found in the provincial and territorial
schools.[59] This approach is not significantly different from the approach
during the residential school era, when Indigenous communities had no say in the
content and language of their children’s schooling.

The funding formula for First Nations schools was last updated in 1996, and does
not take into account the range of basic and contemporary education components
needed to deliver a good-quality education in the twenty-first century, such as
information and communication technologies, sports and recreation, language
proficiency, and library services.[60] Worse still, since 1996, funding growth
for First Nations education has been capped at 2%, an amount that has been
insufficient to keep pace with either inflation or the rapid increases in the
Aboriginal student population.[61] Meanwhile, between 1996 and 2006, funding to
provincial and territorial school systems increased annually by 3.8%, almost
double the increase for reserve schools.[62] The underfunding of reserve schools
likely violates Treaty promises about education, and makes it very difficult to
overcome the educational and consequent income gaps.

In many cases, the fees that First Nations are charged when they send their
children to provincial schools are higher than the amount of funding they
receive from Canada per student.[63]

Calls to Action

8)  We call upon the federal government to eliminate the discrepancy in federal
    education funding for First Nations children being educated on reserves and
    those First Nations children being educated off reserves.

9)  We call upon the federal government to prepare and publish annual reports
    comparing funding for the education of First Nations children on and off
    reserves, as well as educational and income attainments of Aboriginal
    peoples in Canada compared with non-Aboriginal people.

Education reform

Since 2011, three major reports on First Nations education have concluded that
the status quo is unacceptable and that there is a need for a complete
restructuring based on principles of self-government, a culturally relevant
curriculum, and stable funding. All three reports agree that Aboriginal peoples
themselves must lead and control the process of change.[64]

In October 2013, the government released the text of the proposed First Nations
Education Act. The bill itself provided no guarantee of increased or stable
funding of First Nations schools, leaving such matters to be resolved through
regulations, with no assurance of equity in the distribution of resources to
educate First Nations children in First Nations schools or in provincial
schools. In February 2014, the Government of Canada and the Assembly of First
Nations announced an agreement on a new basis for First Nations education reform
and legislation. The agreement called for over $2 billion in new funding to
reserve schools, and replaced the 2% cap on annual increases with a 4.5% annual
increase and $1.25 billion from 2016–17 to 2018–19. However, after opposition
from Aboriginal leaders, the proposed legislation was put on hold, pending
agreement on the principles for a new Act.

Based on all that it has heard from thousands of former students and family
members throughout the country, the Commission is convinced that such an Act
must recognize the importance of education in strengthening the cultural
identity of Aboriginal people and providing a better basis for success. Albert
Marshall, a former student of the Shubenacadie residential school in Nova
Scotia, made this point forcefully to the Commission.

  The current education system has been designed to completely eradicate who I
  am and to kill that Indian Mi’kmaq spirit that’s in me. But I do know I need
  knowledge and I need education. But the kind of education I need has to be
  reflective of who I am as a Mi’kmaq. And that knowledge that I get, that I
  will receive, I have a responsibility with that knowledge to pass it down so
  others will benefit from it…. The kind of legacy that I want to leave my
  children in the future generations is one of which they will be able to excel,
  they will be able to compete without having to worry about is the education
  system going to further eradicate their selves.[65]

Call to Action

10) We call upon the federal government to draft new Aboriginal education
    legislation with the full participation and informed consent of Aboriginal
    peoples. The new legislation would include a commitment to sufficient
    funding and would incorporate the following principles:

i.  Providing sufficient funding to close identified educational achievement
    gaps within one generation.

ii. Improving education attainment levels and success rates.

iii. Developing culturally appropriate curricula.

iv. Protecting the right to Aboriginal languages, including the teaching of
    Aboriginal languages as credit courses.

v.  Enabling parental and community responsibility, control, and accountability,
    similar to what parents enjoy in public school systems.

vi. Enabling parents to fully participate in the education of their children.

vii. Respecting and honouring Treaty relationships.

Métis and Inuit education

Provincial and territorial schools are the only option for Métis students, other
Aboriginal children without recognized status, and those First Nation and Inuit
children who do not live on reserves or who do live on reserves but attend
provincial schools. Their educational outcomes are not significantly better than
those who attend First Nation schools on reserves or in their home
communities.[66] Jurisdictional disputes between the federal and provincial
governments over responsibility for Métis education continue to be a major
obstacle to ensuring that Métis people have control over the education of their
young people. The Métis remain without recognized jurisdiction and authority
even though they have equal protection under Section 35 of the Constitution.[67]
The result is that Métis children generally are educated in public or Catholic
school systems in which school boards are not specifically held accountable for
the education needs of Métis children.[68] The Commission believes all levels of
government should consult with Métis parents, communities, and national
organizations to provide Métis-specific educational programming.

Inuit students face one of the largest gaps in terms of educational attainment.
A disproportionately high number of northern parents are residential school
Survivors or intergenerational Survivors. Inuit are among Canada’s youngest
citizens, with a median age of twenty-two. In response to the intense needs of
its young population, Inuit peoples have been leading the way to dramatic
change. Inuit education is on the cusp of significant transformation, with some
of the most promising models for self-governing education coming out of northern
communities. But these changes have not been without obstacles. Some regions
have a greater capacity to develop the necessary resources than others. A
shortage of bilingual educators is one of the greatest barriers to expanding
bilingual education in Inuit schools. There is also a lack of teaching and
reading materials in Inuit languages.[69]

Another major problem is the lack of supports both within and outside the
education system that are necessary to ensure student success. Inuit educators
have long recognized that it is important to begin working with children as
early as possible, but the North lacks good-quality daycare and preschool
spaces.[70]

Post-secondary education

To help close the income and employment gap, Aboriginal people need increased
access to post-secondary education. Only 8.7% of First Nations people, 5.1% of
Inuit, and 11.7% of Métis have a university degree, according to the 2011
census.[71] The federal auditor general has commented: “In 2004, we noted that
at existing rates, it would take 28 years for First Nations communities to reach
the national average. More recent trends suggest that the time needed may be
still longer.”[72] The barriers to post-secondary education have had profound
effects. Geraldine Bob attended residential school at Kamloops, British
Columbia. She told the Commission at a Community Hearing in Fort Simpson,
Northwest Territories, that poor education and negative experiences at
residential school delayed her attendance at university and her entry into the
workforce as a teacher. She suggested that

  the residential school system owes me those lost years. You know, I lost my
  retirement; I have to keep working, I don’t have a good retirement fund
  because it was so late when I went to school. And I’ve proven that I can go to
  university and be successful as a teacher. So … that little tiny bit of Common
  Experience Payment doesn’t compensate for all that loss.[73]

Almost no one with some university or college education who spoke to the
Commission had been able to obtain that education directly after high school.
Most, like Geraldine Bob, had lost years to the time it took them to heal enough
to even consider the possibility of upgrading their schooling.

If access to post-secondary education is to be improved, increasing the rates of
secondary school completion is an important step. But even for those who qualify
for a university program, there are significant obstacles. Federal funding for
post-secondary education suffers from the same 2% funding cap that has been
imposed on elementary and secondary schools since 1996. The First Nations
Education Council estimates that there is a backlog of over 10,000 First Nations
students waiting for post-secondary funding, with an additional $234 million
required to erase that backlog and meet current demands.[74] The financial
barriers and other difficulties that Aboriginal people face in attending
post-secondary institutions deprive the Canadian workforce of the social
workers, teachers, health-care workers, tradespeople, legal professionals, and
others who can help address the legacy of residential schools.

Call to Action

11) We call upon the federal government to provide adequate funding to end the
    backlog of First Nations students seeking a post-secondary education.

Early childhood education programs

Aboriginal families continue to suffer from a general lack of early childhood
education programs. The Assembly of First Nations reported that, according to
2011 data, 78% of children up to the age of five have no access to licensed
daycare, let alone to intensive early childhood programs.[75] Such programs are
vital to support the development of young children and, by extension, address
some of the deficit in parenting skills that is the legacy of residential
schools.

Call to Action

12) We call upon the federal, provincial, territorial, and Aboriginal
    governments to develop culturally appropriate early childhood education
    programs for Aboriginal families.

To close the education and income gaps, there needs to be stable and adequate
funding of Aboriginal education that takes into account the challenges of the
legacy of residential schools as well as other challenges faced by Aboriginal
people. In addition to fair and adequate funding, there is also a need to
maximize Aboriginal control over Aboriginal education, and to facilitate
instruction in Aboriginal cultures and languages. These educational measures
will offer a realistic prospect of reconciliation on the basis of equality and
respect.

Language and culture

In a study of the impact of residential schools, the Assembly of First Nations
noted in 1994 that

  language is necessary to define and maintain a world view. For this reason,
  some First Nation elders to this day will say that knowing or learning the
  native language is basic to any deep understanding of a First Nation way of
  life, to being a First Nation person. For them, a First Nation world is quite
  simply not possible without its own language. For them, the impact of
  residential school silencing their language is equivalent to a residential
  school silencing their world.[76]

The Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples similarly noted the connection
between Aboriginal languages and what it called a “distinctive world view,
rooted in the stories of ancestors and the environment.” The Royal Commission
added that Aboriginal languages are a “tangible emblem of group identity” that
can provide “the individual a sense of security and continuity with the past …
maintenance of the language and group identity has both a social-emotional and a
spiritual purpose.”[77]

Residential schools were a systematic, government-sponsored attempt to destroy
Aboriginal cultures and languages and to assimilate Aboriginal peoples so that
they no longer existed as distinct peoples. English and, to a far lesser degree,
French were the only languages permitted to be used in most schools. Students
were punished— often severely—for speaking their own languages. Michael Sillett,
a former student at the North West River residential school in Newfoundland and
Labrador, told the Commission, “Children at the dorm were not allowed to speak
their mother tongue. I remember several times when other children were slapped
or had their mouths washed out for speaking their mother tongue; whether it was
Inuktitut or Innu-aimun. Residents were admonished for just being Native.”[78]
As late as the 1970s, students at schools in northwestern Ontario were not
allowed to speak their language if they were in the presence of a staff member
who could not understand that language.[79] Conrad Burns, whose father attended
the Prince Albert school, named this policy for what it was: “It was a cultural
genocide. People were beaten for their language, people were beaten because …
they followed their own ways.”[80]

Rights to culture and language, and the need for remedies for their loss, have
long been recognized in international law.[81] They are specifically
acknowledged in the United Nations Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous
Peoples, which has recognized the critical state of Aboriginal languages.
Article 8:1 of the Declaration recognizes that “Indigenous peoples and
individuals have the right not to be subjected to forced assimilation or
destruction of their culture.” Article 8:2 provides that “states shall provide
effective mechanisms for prevention of and redress for any form of forced
assimilation or integration.”

The Declaration also includes specific recognition of the right to revitalize
and transmit Aboriginal languages in Article 13:1, which recognizes that
“Indigenous peoples have the right to revitalize, use, develop and transmit to
future generations their histories, languages, oral traditions, philosophies,
writing systems and literatures, and to designate and retain their own names for
communities, places and persons.” Article 14 provides for educational language
rights of the type that Canadians already know and experience, with respect to
anglophone and francophone minorities. Article 14:1 provides similarly that
“Indigenous peoples have the right to establish and control their educational
systems and institutions providing education in their own languages, in a manner
appropriate to their cultural methods of teaching and learning,” and Article
14:3 provides: “States shall, in conjunction with indigenous peoples, take
effective measures, in order for indigenous individuals, particularly children,
including those living outside their communities, to have access, when possible,
to an education in their own culture and provided in their own language.”
Article 16 provides that Indigenous peoples “have the right to establish their
own media in their own languages and to have access to all forms of
non-indigenous media without discrimination,” and that states “shall take
effective measures to ensure that Stateowned media duly reflect indigenous
cultural diversity.”[82]

The attempt to assimilate students by denying them access to, and respect for,
their Aboriginal language and culture often meant that the students became
estranged from their families and communities. Agnes Mills, a former student at
All Saints residential school in Saskatchewan, told the Commission her story.

  And one of the things that residential school did for me, I really regret, is
  that it made me ashamed of who I was…. And I wanted to be white so bad, and
  the worst thing I ever did was I was ashamed of my mother, that honourable
  woman, because she couldn’t speak English. She never went to school, and they
  told us that, we used to go home to her on Saturdays, and they told us that we
  couldn’t talk Gwich’in to her and, and she couldn’t, like couldn’t
  communicate. And my sister was the one that had the nerve to tell her, “We
  can’t talk Loucheux to you, they told us not to.”[83]

Mary Courchene, formerly a student at the residential schools at Fort Alexander
in Manitoba and Lebret in Saskatchewan, had a similar interaction with her
family.

  And I looked at my dad, I looked at my mom, I looked at my dad again. You know
  what? I hated them. I just absolutely hated my own parents. Not because I
  thought they abandoned me; I hated their brown faces. I hated them because
  they were Indians…. So I, I looked at my dad and I challenged him and I said,
  “From now on we speak only English in this house,” I said to my dad. And you
  know when we, when, in a traditional home where I was raised, the first thing
  that we all were always taught was to respect your Elders and never to, you
  know, to challenge them. And here I was, eleven years old, and I challenged …
  my dad looked at me and I, and I thought he was going to cry. In fact his eyes
  filled up with tears. He turned to my mom and he says, … “Then I guess we’ll
  never speak to this little girl again. I don’t know her.”[84]

Some Survivors refused to teach their own children their Aboriginal languages
and cultures because of the negative stigma that had come to be associated with
them during their school years. This has contributed significantly to the
fragile state of Aboriginal languages in Canada today.

Many of the almost ninety surviving Aboriginal languages in Canada are under
serious threat of extinction. In the 2011 census, 14.5% of the Aboriginal
population reported that their first language learned was an Aboriginal
language.[85] In the previous 2006 census, 18% of those who identified as
Aboriginal had reported an Aboriginal language as their first language learned,
and a decade earlier, in the 1996 census, the figure was 26%. This indicates
nearly a 50% drop in the fifteen years since the last residential schools
closed. There are, however, variations among Aboriginal peoples: 63.7% of Inuit
speak their Indigenous language, compared with 22.4% of First Nations people and
only 2.5% of Métis people.[86]

Some languages are close to extinction because they have only a few remaining
speakers of the great-grandparent generation. The United Nations Educational,
Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) lists 36% of Canada’s Aboriginal
languages as being critically endangered, in the sense that they are used only
by great-grandparent generations; 18% are severely endangered, in the sense that
they are used by the great-grandparent and grandparent generations; and 16% are
definitely endangered, in the sense that they are used by the parental and the
two previous generations. The remaining languages are all vulnerable.[87] If the
preservation of Aboriginal languages does not become a priority both for
governments and for Aboriginal communities, then what the residential schools
failed to accomplish will come about through a process of systematic neglect.

Language rights

In interpreting Aboriginal and Treaty rights under Section 35(1) of the
Constitution Act, 1982, the Supreme Court of Canada has stressed the relation of
those rights to the preservation of distinct Aboriginal cultures.[88] The
Commission concurs. The preservation of Aboriginal languages is essential and
must be recognized as a right.

Call to Action

13) We call upon the federal government to acknowledge that Aboriginal rights
    include Aboriginal language rights.

Government programs

At a time when government funding is most needed to protect Aboriginal languages
and culture, Canada has not upheld commitments it previously made to fund such
programs. In 2002, the federal government promised $160 million for the creation
of a centre for Aboriginal languages and culture and a national language
strategy.[89] But, in 2006, the government retreated from that commitment,
pledging instead to spend $5 million per year in “permanent funding” for the
Aboriginal Languages Initiative (ALI), which had been started in 1998.[90] The
ALI is a program of government-administered heritage subsidies. It is not based
on the notion of respectful nation-to-nation relations between Canada and
Aboriginal peoples. Neither does it provide Aboriginal people with the
opportunity to make decisions for themselves about how to allocate scarce
resources and how to administer programs. Many who appeared before the Truth and
Reconciliation Commission of Canada were skeptical about the government’s
commitment to preserve Aboriginal languages. As Michael Sillett told us, “I
cannot see the federal government putting out the money that’s necessary for
full restitution, you know…. I can’t bring back my language; I lost that. I lost
my culture, you know.”[91]

Other than ALI, the only significant programs for language preservation are the
Canada-Territorial Language Accords ($4.1 million annual budget), which support
territorial government-directed Aboriginal language services, supports, and
community projects in Nunavut and the Northwest Territories. In Yukon, language
revitalization and preservation projects are supported through transfer
agreements with ten of the eleven self-governing Yukon First Nations.[92]

The combined total annual federal budget for these Aboriginal languages programs
is $9.1 million. By way of comparison, the Official Languages Program for
English and French is projected to receive funding as follows:

-   2012–13: $353.3 million

-   2013–14: $348.2 million

-   2014–15: $348.2 million[93]

The resources committed to Aboriginal language programs are far fewer than what
is committed to French in areas where French speakers are in the minority. For
example, the federal government provides support to the small minority of
francophones in Nunavut in the amount of approximately $4,000 per individual
annually. In contrast, funding to support Inuit-language initiatives is
estimated at $44 per Inuk per year.[94]

The Commission believes that a multi-pronged approach to Aboriginal language
preservation—if implemented, honourably resourced, and sustained— might prevent
further increase in the litigation of Aboriginal language rights, and the
increased international criticism of Canada’s policy towards Aboriginal-language
rights. This approach will require full, good-faith consultation, which
recognizes that although Aboriginal communities have the necessary knowledge,
particularly among their Elders, to preserve their own languages, additional
support is needed. The outcome of the consultation should be legislation and
policies that affirm the importance of Canada’s Indigenous languages, and
allocate adequate funding to ensure their preservation.

Calls to Action

14) We call upon the federal government to enact an Aboriginal Languages Act
    that incorporates the following principles:

i.  Aboriginal languages are a fundamental and valued element of Canadian
    culture and society, and there is an urgency to preserve them.

ii. Aboriginal language rights are reinforced by the Treaties.

iii. The federal government has a responsibility to provide sufficient funds for
     Aboriginal-language revitalization and preservation.

iv. The preservation, revitalization, and strengthening of Aboriginal languages
    and cultures are best managed by Aboriginal people and communities.

v.  Funding for Aboriginal language initiatives must reflect the diversity of
    Aboriginal languages.

15) We call upon the federal government to appoint, in consultation with
    Aboriginal groups, an Aboriginal Languages Commissioner. The commissioner
    should help promote Aboriginal languages and report on the adequacy of
    federal funding of Aboriginal-languages initiatives.

In addition to promoting the use of Aboriginal languages, an Aboriginal
Languages Commissioner would also educate non-Aboriginal Canadians about the
richness and value of Aboriginal languages and how strengthening those languages
can enhance Canada’s international reputation.

Aboriginal people recognize how important it is for their children to speak and
understand an Aboriginal language. Sabrina Williams, an intergenerational
Survivor from British Columbia, expressed that need.

  I didn’t realize until taking this language class how much we have lost—all
  the things that are attached to language: it’s family connections, it’s oral
  history, it’s traditions, it’s ways of being, it’s ways of knowing, it’s
  medicine, it’s song, it’s dance, it’s memory. It’s everything, including the
  land.… And unless we inspire our kids to love our culture, to love our
  language … our languages are continually going to be eroded over time. So,
  that is daunting. Yeah. So, to me that’s part of what reconciliation looks
  like.[95]

Language instruction may require innovative approaches, including the use of
Elders and others as teachers and the use of immersion programs. Education
institutions must be flexible and responsive in their attempts to encourage the
teaching of Aboriginal languages. They should be prepared to draw on the
available resources within Aboriginal communities to facilitate the teaching and
transmission of Aboriginal languages. More formal training opportunities are
also required.

Call to Action

16) We call upon post-secondary institutions to create university and college
    degree and diploma programs in Aboriginal languages.

Reclaiming names

As a result of the residential school experience, many Aboriginal people lost
their language and lost touch with their culture. Many also suffered a loss of a
different sort. It was common for residential school officials to give students
new names. At the Aklavik Anglican school in the Northwest Territories, a young
Inuit girl named Masak became “Alice”—she would not hear her old name until she
returned home.[96] At the Qu’Appelle school in Saskatchewan, Ochankugahe (Path
Maker) became Daniel Kennedy, named for the biblical Daniel, and Adélard
Standing Buffalo was named for Adélard Langevin, the Archbishop of
St. Boniface.[97] Survivors and their families who have sought to reclaim the
names that were taken from them in residential schools have found the process to
be both expensive and time consuming. We believe that measures should be put in
place to reduce the burden placed on those who seek to reclaim this significant
portion of their heritage.

Call to Action

17) We call upon all levels of government to enable residential school Survivors
    and their families to reclaim names changed by the residential school system
    by waiving administrative costs for a period of five years for the
    name-change process and the revision of official identity documents, such as
    birth certificates, passports, driver’s licenses, health cards, status
    cards, and social insurance numbers.

Health

Residential schools endangered the health and well-being of the children who
attended them. Many students succumbed to infectious disease, particularly
tuberculosis. Sexual and physical abuse, as well as separation from families and
communities, caused lasting trauma for many others. The effects of this trauma
were often passed on to the children of the residential school Survivors and
sometimes to their grandchildren. Residential schools also posed a threat to the
mental health of students through the pervasive assumptions and assertions they
made about the inferiority of Aboriginal peoples, cultures, and languages. This
disregard for Aboriginal health and well-being was consistent with the
long-established patterns of colonialism: the introduction of new diseases, the
disruption of traditional food sources, and the concentration of people on
unproductive land and the housing of them in cramped, unsanitary dwellings.

The schools undermined Aboriginal health by failing to feed and clothe the
children properly and housing them in poorly constructed and dangerous
buildings. The schools did not properly screen out sick and infectious children,
and often lacked adequate treatment facilities. As Ruby Firth, a former student
at Stringer Hall in the Northwest Territories, told the Commission, those
conditions had a lasting effect.

  I’ve got chronic bronchitis today. Every winter I get pneumonia like two or
  three times and I’m on two puffers ’cause when I was in Stringer Hall
  residential school they used to put us in these little skinny red coats that
  weren’t even warm enough for winter. And we used to have to walk across the
  street to go to school.… Both my lungs are 50% scarred from having pneumonia
  seven times in [residential school]. That’s always going to be there, it’s
  never going to go away.[98]

There were also lasting psychological and emotional impacts. Sonia WuttuneeByrd
described the damage that residential school caused her.

  I lost my braids, my beautiful hair was cut, and I felt like my identity was
  so confused, I didn’t know who I was. What is even worse is that they started
  to sexually take advantage of me and abuse me, not one, not two, but many,
  many people for a very long time, until I was sixteen. I started to really
  deteriorate. I became very sick and anorexic, and really started to go
  downhill. At one point I only weighed sixty-six pounds, and that was it, I had
  no desire to live. The doctor said, “You have a month to live, go home.” He
  said to my family, “Take her home, she is going to die.”… I would say to Mom
  and Dad, and they never understood why I was crying. The school always said,
  “Sonia is a fantastic student, she is doing so well,” but inside it was
  torment. I held everything in and didn’t tell anybody for twenty years.[99]

Katherine Copenace, a former student at the St. Mary’s residential school in
Ontario, told the Commission about her struggles.

  The residential school students suffered physical, sexual, spiritual, and most
  of all emotional abuse and my dad used to say to me, “Emotional abuse is more
  damaging than physical abuse. Your physical hurts heal.” That’s what he used
  to say. When I got older, I had thoughts of suicide, inflicting pain on myself
  which I did. I used to slash my arms, pierce my arms, my body and I destroyed
  myself with alcohol which the government introduced of course.[100]

The children in residential schools were powerless to take healing measures.
They were denied access to traditional foods and to families, traditional
healers, and communities who could have helped them, according to Aboriginal
ways, to deal with the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual elements of
ill health. Because of the isolated location of many of the schools, students
were also often denied access to ‘Western’ doctors and nurses. This double
denial of health care, based in government policy, continues to this day, due to
the relative isolation of many Aboriginal communities, many of which have no
road access, and limited access to local health resources.

Health care is a right enshrined in international and constitutional law as well
as in Treaties. The United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous
Peoples recognizes that Indigenous peoples have the right to physical and mental
integrity, as well as the right to equal enjoyment of the highest attainable
standard of physical and mental health. In taking measures to achieve these
goals, states are obligated to pay particular attention to the rights and
special needs of Elders, women, youth, children, and persons with
disabilities.[101] Indigenous peoples have the right to be actively involved in
developing, determining, and administering health programs that affect
them.[102] Indigenous peoples also have the right to traditional medicines and
to maintain their traditional health practices.[103] The Numbered Treaties also
established additional legal obligations concerning Aboriginal health and
wellness.[104] The right to medical care was recognized in Treaties 6, 7, 8, 10,
and 11.[105] Treaty 6 explicitly included provision of a “medicine chest” and
relief from “pestilence.”[106] However, the right to health is not limited to
these Treaties. The Treaty negotiations included many references to the
protection of, and non-interference with, traditional ways of life.[107]

Call to Action

18) We call upon the federal, provincial, territorial, and Aboriginal
    governments to acknowledge that the current state of Aboriginal health in
    Canada is a direct result of previous Canadian government policies,
    including residential schools, and to recognize and implement the
    health-care rights of Aboriginal people as identified in international law
    and constitutional law, and under the Treaties.

The health gap

There are troubling gaps in health outcomes between Aboriginal and
non-Aboriginal Canadians. For example:

-   The infant mortality rates for First Nations and Inuit children range from
    1.7 to over 4 times the non-Aboriginal rate.[108]

-   From 2004 to 2008, the “age-specific mortality rate” at ages one to nineteen
    in the Inuit homelands was 188.[^0] deaths per 100,000 person-years at risk,
    compared with only 35.3 deaths per 100,000 in the rest of Canada.[109]

-   First Nations people aged forty-five and older have nearly twice the rate of
    diabetes as the non-Aboriginal population.[110]

-   First Nations people were six times more likely than the general population
    to suffer alcohol-related deaths, and more than three times more likely to
    suffer drug-induced deaths.[111]

The overall suicide rate among First Nation communities is about twice that of
the total Canadian population. For Inuit, the rate is still higher: six to
eleven times the rate for the general population. Aboriginal youth between the
ages of ten and twenty-nine who are living on reserves are five to six times
more likely to die by suicide than non-Aboriginal youth.[112]

Measuring progress

Obtaining precise information on the state of health of Aboriginal people in
Canada is difficult. The most complete information about comparative health
outcomes is out of date, much of it coming from the 1990s. Unlike in other
countries, the Canadian government has not provided a comprehensive list of
well-being indicators comparing Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal populations. The
lack of accessible data on comparable health indicators means that these issues
receive less public, media, and political attention. In Australia, the
government has set a timeline for closing the gap in health outcomes between
Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal citizens. The Australian prime minister reports
annually on the progress being made to close the gaps in targets related to life
expectancy and mortality rates for Indigenous children.[113] Canada must do
likewise.

Call to Action

19) We call upon the federal government, in consultation with Aboriginal
    peoples, to establish measurable goals to identify and close the gaps in
    health outcomes between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal communities, and to
    publish annual progress reports and assess long-term trends. Such efforts
    would focus on indicators such as: infant mortality, maternal health,
    suicide, mental health, addictions, life expectancy, birth rates, infant and
    child health issues, chronic diseases, illness and injury incidence, and the
    availability of appropriate health services.

In 2003, the First Ministers’ Accord on Health Care Renewal recognized the
obvious: that Aboriginal peoples face serious health challenges. The accord
committed to making the reduction of the gap in health status between Aboriginal
and non-Aboriginal peoples a national priority. More than a decade later, that
gap remains. In fact, the federal government has moved backwards on issues of
Aboriginal health since the signing of the Indian Residential Schools Settlement
Agreement and Canada’s apology to Survivors. It has terminated funding to a
number of Aboriginal health organizations, including the Aboriginal Healing
Foundation and the National Aboriginal Health Organization. These organizations
were committed to models of research and treatment in which Aboriginal
communities have ownership, control, access, and possession. Their loss
significantly limits the development of accurate information about health issues
and solutions under Aboriginal control. Health Canada has also cut funding for a
number of Aboriginal primary health programs, including programs that address
diabetes, fetal alcohol spectrum disorder, youth suicide, infectious diseases,
and maternal and child health.[114] These cuts have had a serious impact on
Aboriginal communities.

Trudy King, a former student at Grandin College residential school, is from Fort
Resolution in the Northwest Territories.

  When I lost my son here in 2003, I needed counselling for me and my children.
  I couldn’t get help here anywhere. There was the health and social services
  coordinator here that I begged and begged to help us, and she said, “There’s
  no monies. We don’t have monies to get counselling for you and your kids.” I
  couldn’t go anywhere. Nobody would help us, and, and I didn’t, and it was in
  2003. There has to be help out there for people that want, are crying for
  help. I couldn’t get it. My kids couldn’t get it.[115]

A former student at Guy Hill residential school in Manitoba, M. R. E. Linklater,
also emphasized the need for more community-based services when she spoke with
the Commission.

  More programs should be put on for our children and our grandchildren and our
  great-grandchildren ’cause they need to understand why their parents are the
  way they are. Why so many of our people are so into alcohol and drug
  addiction, and for myself, I know why, it’s to survive or not to go back
  there. Our children need more education, support, more programs, not to cut
  the programs that they have in place.[116]

Health reforms often involve Aboriginal people in complex jurisdictional
disputes and tripartite negotiations with both the federal and provincial or
territorial governments. Such jurisdictional disputes have particularly affected
Métis, non-status, and urban Aboriginal people, as the federal government
insists that providing services to these groups is a provincial and territorial
responsibility.

Call to Action

20) In order to address the jurisdictional disputes concerning Aboriginal people
    who do not reside on reserves, we call upon the federal government to
    recognize, respect, and address the distinct health needs of the Métis,
    Inuit, and off-reserve Aboriginal peoples.

Aboriginal healing practices

Aboriginal health practices and beliefs, like Aboriginal peoples themselves, are
diverse. However, an holistic approach to health is common to many Aboriginal
cultures and has also been increasingly validated by ‘Western’ medicine. A
belief shared among many Inuit, Métis, and First Nation people is that a sacred
connection exists among people, the Earth, and everything above it, upon it, and
within it. For purposes of healing, this means activities such as “on-the-land”
or “bush” healing camps where participants can experience the healing power of
the natural world. Traditional practices can also include sweat lodges, cedar
baths, smudging, the lighting of the Qulliq (a stone lamp used by the Inuit for
ceremonial purposes), and other spiritual ceremonies.[117] Best practices for
Aboriginal wellness involve a range of services from mainstream health care to
traditional practices and medicines, all under community leadership and control.
Such an integrated approach has the power to improve the lives of all community
members.

Calls to Action

21) We call upon the federal government to provide sustainable funding for
    existing and new Aboriginal healing centres to address the physical, mental,
    emotional, and spiritual harms caused by residential schools, and to ensure
    that the funding of healing centres in Nunavut and the Northwest Territories
    is a priority.

22) We call upon those who can effect change within the Canadian health-care
    system to recognize the value of Aboriginal healing practices and use them
    in the treatment of Aboriginal patients in collaboration with Aboriginal
    healers and Elders where requested by Aboriginal patients.

Overcoming the health legacy of the residential schools will require a long-term
investment in Aboriginal communities, so that communities can revive their
capacity to heal themselves. One key investment will be the training of more
Aboriginal health and social service professionals. The work that Health
Canada’s community cultural and traditional knowledge healing team members did
in support of this Commission and other Settlement Agreement processes is but
one example of the invaluable service these professionals can provide.

Call to Action

23) We call upon all levels of government to:

i.  Increase the number of Aboriginal professionals working in the healthcare
    field.

ii. Ensure the retention of Aboriginal health-care providers in Aboriginal
    communities.

iii. Provide cultural competency training for all health-care professionals.

Closing the gap in health outcomes will come about only as part of a
comprehensive strategy of change. To be more effective in improving health
outcomes, non-Aboriginal medical practitioners must develop a better
understanding of the health issues facing Canada’s Aboriginal peoples and of the
legacy of residential schools.

Call to Action

24) We call upon medical and nursing schools in Canada to require all students
    to take a course dealing with Aboriginal health issues, including the
    history and legacy of residential schools, the United Nations Declaration on
    the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, Treaties and Aboriginal rights, and
    Indigenous teachings and practices. This will require skills-based training
    in intercultural competency, conflict resolution, human rights, and
    anti-racism.

Justice

Residential schools inflicted profound injustices on Aboriginal people.
Aboriginal parents were forced, often under pressure from the police, to give up
their children to the schools. Children were taken far from their communities to
live in frightening custodial institutions, which felt like prisons. The
children who attended residential schools were often treated as if they were
offenders and were often victimized.

This pattern of disproportionate imprisonment and victimization of Aboriginal
people continues to this day. The continued failure of the justice system denies
Aboriginal people the safety and opportunities that most Canadians take for
granted. Redress to the racist and colonial views that inspired the schools, and
effective and long-term solutions to the crime problems that plague too many
Aboriginal communities, call for increased use of Aboriginal justice, based on
Aboriginal laws and healing practices.

To understand the full legacy of the harms of the schools, it is important to
examine how the Canadian legal system responded to residential school abuse.
Relatively few

prosecutions for abuse resulted from police investigations. In some cases, the
federal government actually compromised these investigations—and the
independence of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP)—to defend its own
position in civil cases brought against it by residential school Survivors.

RCMP independence compromised

In late 1994, the RCMP established the E Division Task Force to investigate
allegations of abuse in British Columbia residential schools. There is evidence,
however, that RCMP investigations into abuse were adversely influenced by the
federal government’s strategic interests in defending itself in the many civil
lawsuits commenced by former students. For example, the government demanded that
the RCMP hand over its investigation files related to abuse at the Kuper Island
school. Despite some initial objections, the RCMP eventually did turn over the
files.[118] This was done without due regard for the privacy rights of the
complainants in the case, and, in effect, gave the government an advantage in
defending itself. When the police force requested the return of these files, the
government declined, and then further refused to disclose the information it had
received to the Survivors who had brought the civil lawsuits.[119]

Affidavits filed by RCMP officers suggest that the federal government’s interest
in defending itself in civil litigation interfered with police investigations
into crimes committed at the residential schools. Although a judge eventually
ordered that Survivors should have the same access to RCMP criminal
investigation material regarding offences at the Kuper Island school as the
government, the whole affair meant Survivors could reasonably conclude that the
RCMP was acting as an agent of the federal government, rather than as an
impartial enforcer of the law.[120]

Call to Action

25) We call upon the federal government to establish a written policy that
    reaffirms the independence of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police to
    investigate crimes in which the government has its own interest as a
    potential or real party in civil litigation.

Unnecessary insistence on corroboration

The RCMP E Division Task Force final report notes that “a very common situation
that kept occurring over and over again” was that Crown counsel refused to
prosecute without corroboration in the form of physical evidence.[121] This
approach was based on an unwillingness to take the complainant’s own evidence as
sufficient to justify a prosecution. It betrays an unwillingness to take the
evidence of Aboriginal people as being worthy of belief. At best, the refusal to
prosecute without corroboration was based on a belief that the denial of any
accused person who occupied a position of authority at the schools would be
sufficient to create a reasonable doubt about guilt.

Since 1982, the requirement for corroboration was specifically dropped for
sexual offences, and it was never required for non-sexual offences.[122] The
Commission is concerned that a continued insistence on corroboration has
resulted in discriminatory treatment of Aboriginal victims.

Few criminal prosecutions

The Commission has been able to identify fewer than fifty convictions stemming
from allegations of abuse at residential schools. This figure is insignificant
compared with the nearly 38,000 claims of sexual and serious physical abuse that
were submitted as part of the Independent Assessment Process (IAP), set up under
the Settlement Agreement.[123]

Although there were not many prosecutions for sexual abuse, there were even
fewer charges of physical abuse brought against former school staff. The RCMP’s
own report suggests that the E Division Task Force viewed physical assaults
against Aboriginal children as being less serious than sexual abuse. The RCMP
attributed complaints by former students about assaults as evidence of a
“culture clash between the rigid, ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ Christian
attitude, and the more permissive Native tradition of child-rearing.”[124] This
preconception undoubtedly affected the number of prosecutions that occurred for
physical abuse at the schools.

Civil litigation

Having generally failed to find justice through police investigations and
criminal prosecutions, residential school Survivors increasingly turned to the
civil justice system in the 1990s, bringing lawsuits against abusers as well as
the federal government and the churches that operated the schools. The Canadian
legal system, however, was prepared to consider only some of the harms that the
Survivors suffered—generally, those harms caused by sexual and sometimes
physical abuse. It refused to consider on the merits the Survivors’ claims
relating to loss of language, culture, family attachment, and violation of
Treaty rights to education. The Canadian legal system refused to consider the
claims that Survivors brought on behalf of their parents and their children. It
also refused to provide remedies for the collective harms that residential
schools caused to Aboriginal nations and communities.

Residential school litigation has been extremely complex, expensive, and
lengthy. It has been especially difficult for the Survivors, many of whom were
revictimized through explicit questioning and adversarial treatment by the
Government of Canada, the churches, and even their own lawyers.

Limitation periods

Within the Canadian justice system, complainants in civil proceedings have a
limited period of time in which to file suit. If they wait too long after the
harm they have suffered, they may not be allowed to pursue their claim because
of a provincial statute of limitation. Although statutes of limitation can
protect defendants in civil lawsuits, they can also have the effect of denying
plaintiffs the opportunity to have the truth of their allegation determined in
court. This is most dramatically true for child victims, who have neither the
means nor the knowledge to pursue claims of harm until much later, when the time
period for a claim may very well have run out.

A statute of limitation defence has to be raised by the defendant. In its 2000
report on responding to child abuse in institutions, the Law Commission of
Canada recommended that the federal government should not rely solely on statute
of limitation defences.[125] Nevertheless, the Government of Canada and the
churches have frequently and successfully raised these defences in residential
school litigation. The Commission believes that the federal government’s
successful use of statute of limitation defences has meant that Canadian courts
and Canadians in general have considered only a small part of the harms of
residential schools, mostly those caused by sexual abuse. Some provinces have
amended their limitation statutes to enable civil prosecutions for a wider range
of offences. We urge others to follow suit.

Call to Action

26) We call upon the federal, provincial, and territorial governments to review
    and amend their respective statutes of limitations to ensure that they
    conform with the principle that governments and other entities cannot rely
    on limitation defences to defend legal actions of historical abuse brought
    by Aboriginal people.

Educating lawyers

The criminal prosecution of abusers in residential schools and the subsequent
civil lawsuits were a difficult experience for Survivors. The courtroom
experience was made worse by the fact that many lawyers did not have adequate
cultural, historical, or psychological knowledge to deal with the painful
memories that the Survivors were forced to reveal. The lack of sensitivity that
lawyers often demonstrated in dealing with residential school Survivors
resulted, in some cases, in the Survivors’ not receiving appropriate legal
service. These experiences prove the need for lawyers to develop a greater
understanding of Aboriginal history and culture as well as the multi-faceted
legacy of residential schools.

Calls to Action

27) We call upon the Federation of Law Societies of Canada to ensure that
    lawyers receive appropriate cultural competency training, which includes the
    history and legacy of residential schools, the United Nations Declaration on
    the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, Treaties and Aboriginal rights, Indigenous
    law, and Aboriginal–Crown relations. This will require skills-based training
    in intercultural competency, conflict resolution, human rights, and
    anti-racism.

28) We call upon law schools in Canada to require all law students to take a
    course in Aboriginal people and the law, which includes the history and
    legacy of residential schools, the United Nations Declaration on the Rights
    of Indigenous Peoples, Treaties and Aboriginal rights, Indigenous law, and
    Aboriginal–Crown relations. This will require skills-based training in
    intercultural competency, conflict resolution, human rights, and
    anti-racism.

Aftermath of the Settlement Agreement

During the 1990s, the number of civil lawsuits against Canada and the churches
that ran the schools steadily increased. Many of these claims were combined into
class actions that were certified by provincial courts. In May 2005, the
Government of Canada appointed former Supreme Court Justice Frank Iacobucci as
its chief negotiator to help reach a settlement agreement among the many parties
involved in litigation: representatives from Aboriginal communities, church
groups, the federal government, and Survivors represented by various law firms.
The parties reached an agreement in principle in November 2005. The details of
the Indian Residential Schools Settlement Agreement were finalized and approved
by the federal cabinet on May 10, 2006. The thousands of legal claims made
against the federal government and the churches were concluded and settled under
the terms of the Settlement Agreement.[126]

Because the Settlement Agreement would involve the termination of a number of
class-action proceedings that the courts had already authorized, it was
necessary for courts in most provinces and territories to consider whether the
Settlement Agreement was a fair resolution of the claims and, in particular,
whether it adequately protected the interests of all the class members.

The Settlement Agreement included a Common Experience Payment (CEP) for everyone
who attended one of the residential schools listed in the Agreement. In addition
to the CEP, an Independent Assessment Process (IAP) was established to pay
compensation to those who suffered sexual or serious physical assaults, such as
severe beating, whipping, and second-degree burning, at the schools. The process
also included compensation for assaults by other students if they were the
result of a lack of reasonable supervision.

The IAP was designed to be an easier process for complainants than litigation.
Hearings are held in private with cultural supports for the claimants and health
supports provided by Health Canada. In contrast to the protracted nature of much
civil litigation, hearings are supposed to be held within nine months, with
decisions due shortly after the hearings.

In their statements to the Commission, some Survivors have expressed concerns
about the IAP abuse hearing process because it did not allow them to face their
abusers directly. Bernard Catcheway, a former student at Pine Creek residential
school in Manitoba, told the Commission,

  You know and [my abuser’s] still alive. I think she’s eighty-nine years old
  according to when I went to my hearing three years ago. I wanted her so badly
  to come to that hearing, you know, but because of her age and because of her,
  I guess, incompetency, you know, she chose not to be there. I would have loved
  for her to, to meet her at that time, to basically say I, you know, to say
  whatever it was that made her do things to us, I was going to say, “I forgive
  you.” But I never got a chance to say that.[127]

Other claimants, such as Amelia Galligos-Thomas, a former student at Sechelt
residential school in British Columbia, criticized the IAP’s delay in hearing
and settling claims.

  I’ve been waiting five years now for my appeal, and it hasn’t happened yet.
  And it’s almost time for them to stop giving the money out to us. And they
  opened up all our wounds, for what? To turn us all down? And some people are
  dying…. My sister’s doing drugs, like, ’cause she’s tired of waiting. She’s
  living on the streets. So, so, why did they do this to us, again? They hurt us
  again. They shouldn’t go back on their word to us. They already hurt us. Stop
  hurting us.[128]

Exclusions from the Settlement

Not all Survivors of residential school abuse were included in the Settlement
Agreement. For example, day school students, many Métis students, and pupils
from schools in Newfoundland and Labrador have been excluded, as have students
who attended government-funded schools that were not identified as residential
schools. These exclusions have led to new civil lawsuits against the government.
The Commission urges all parties to seek expedited means of resolving this
litigation.

Call to Action

29) We call upon the parties and, in particular, the federal government, to work
    collaboratively with plaintiffs not included in the Indian Residential
    Schools Settlement Agreement to have disputed legal issues determined
    expeditiously on an agreed set of facts.

Overrepresentation of Aboriginal people in prison

The dramatic overrepresentation of Aboriginal people in Canada’s prison system
continues to expand. In 1995–96, Aboriginal people made up 16% of all those
sentenced to custody. By 2011–12, that number had grown to 28% of all admissions
to sentenced custody, even though Aboriginal people make up only 4% of the
Canadian adult population.[129] The situation of women is even more
disproportionate: in 2011– 12, 43% of admissions of women to sentenced custody
were Aboriginal.[130]

The causes of the over-incarceration of Aboriginal people are complex. The
convictions of Aboriginal offenders frequently result from an interplay of
factors, including the intergenerational legacy of residential schools.
Aboriginal overrepresentation in prison reflects a systemic bias in the Canadian
justice system. Once Aboriginal persons are arrested, prosecuted, and convicted,
they are more likely to be sentenced to prison than non-Aboriginal people. In
2011–12, Aboriginal people made up 21% of those who received probation or
conditional sentences (under which a defendant is found guilty but allowed to
remain in the community).[131]

Parliament has recently passed legislation to prescribe mandatory minimum
sentences of imprisonment for certain offences. Judges are required to impose
these mandatory minimums. Additional restrictions have also been placed on
community sanctions. These decisions have further contributed to the
over-incarceration of Aboriginal people in prison. It is assumed that locking up
offenders makes communities safer, but there is no evidence to demonstrate that
this is indeed the case. There are concerns that Aboriginal people are not
receiving culturally appropriate rehabilitative programs in federal prisons, and
they are even less likely to have access to such programs in provincial
correctional institutions for those people serving sentences of less than two
years.

Violence and criminal offending are not inherent in Aboriginal people. They
result from very specific experiences that Aboriginal people have endured,
including the intergenerational legacy of residential schools. It should not be
surprising that those who experienced and witnessed very serious violence
against Aboriginal children in the schools frequently became accustomed to
violence in later life. One intergenerational Survivor recalled that her mother

  never talked about it very much or never expressed it. And she was very quiet,
  and she had issues with alcohol, and I saw that, and that was basically the
  only time that she was really aggressive I guess is during those times when
  she drank…. And my father was also very aggressive. It was a very violent home
  actually. My brothers used to fight each other, and my brothers would fight my
  dad, and my mom and my dad would fight, and a lot of violence in the home,
  actually to the point where my brother, my oldest brother, killed my, one of
  our other brothers in the home … when I was nine, and I saw the whole
  thing.[132]

The Commission heard numerous accounts of the hardships experienced by former
residential school students who became involved with the justice system. For
many, there were painful parallels between their time in school and their time
in jail. For Daniel Andre, the road from Grollier Hall in Inuvik in the
Northwest Territories led, inevitably, to jail.

  I knew that I needed help to get rid of what happened to me in residential
  school. Like, everywhere I went, everything I did, all the jobs I had, all the
  towns I lived in, all the people I met, always brought me back to, to being in
  residential school, and being humiliated, and beaten, and ridiculed, and told
  I was a piece of garbage, I was not good enough, I was, like, a dog…. So, one
  of the scariest things for me being in jail is being humiliated in front of
  everybody, being made, laughed at, and which they do often ’cause they’re
  just, like, that’s just the way they are. And a lot of them are, like,
  survival of the fittest. And, like, if you show weakness, they’ll, they’ll
  just pick on you even more and … I had to, to survive. I had to be strong
  enough to survive. I had to, I had to build up a system where I became a jerk.
  I became a bad person. I became an asshole. But I survived, and learnt all
  those things to survive.[133]

It should not be surprising that those who were sexually abused in the schools
as children sometimes perpetuated sexual violence later in their lives. It
should not be surprising that those who were taken from their parents and
exposed to harsh and regimented discipline in the schools and disparagement of
their culture and families often became poor and sometimes violent parents later
in their lives. It should not be surprising that those who were exposed to poor
education and to spiritual and cultural abuse in the schools later turned to
alcohol and drugs as a means to cope and try to forget. The consequences for
many students and their families were tragic. Grace Campbell is an
intergenerational Survivor.

  When I was drinking a lot of things happened to me … I had to do things and a
  lot of times I just about got killed and then, I thought it was easy. Easy
  drinking, easy to get the way I was living and I didn’t like it. I was selling
  my body and I didn’t like it. At the time I didn’t know it but when I look
  back, some of those creeps I hung with, men and guns and everything, like you
  know. I was losing my drinking buddies though; they were being murdered and
  dying.[134]

Action is required now to overcome the legacy of residential schools that has
played a major role in the over-incarceration of Aboriginal people.

Call to Action

30) We call upon federal, provincial, and territorial governments to commit to
    eliminating the overrepresentation of Aboriginal people in custody over the
    next decade, and to issue detailed annual reports that monitor and evaluate
    progress in doing so.

Community programs

In 1996, Parliament legislated principles that would allow offenders who might
otherwise be imprisoned to serve their sentences in the community. A centrepiece
of these reforms was Section 718.2(e) of the Criminal Code, which instructs
judges that “all available sanctions other than imprisonment that are reasonable
in the circumstances should be considered for all offenders, with particular
attention to the circumstances of aboriginal offenders.”[135]

In 1999, in R. v. Gladue, the Supreme Court stated that Section 718.[136](e) of
the Criminal Code was enacted in response to alarming evidence that Aboriginal
peoples were incarcerated disproportionately to non-Aboriginal people in
Canada.[137] The court stressed that this section is a remedial provision,
enacted specifically to oblige the judiciary to make special efforts to find
reasonable alternatives to imprisonment for Aboriginal offenders and to take
into account the background and systemic factors that bring Aboriginal people
into contact with the justice system.[138]

In some jurisdictions, the Gladue decision has resulted in the production of
more extensive pre-sentence, or “Gladue,” reports that detail the background and
contextual circumstances of Aboriginal offenders. These reports help inform
judges’ sentencing decisions and are meant to encourage alternative options to
incarceration. However,

bringing these reports to court has not been without difficulty and controversy.
Some jurisdictions provide few resources for the intensive, specialized, and
culturally sensitive work that is necessary to produce an adequate Gladue
report, despite the clear mandate given by the Supreme Court.[139]

In 2012, the Supreme Court revisited and reaffirmed Gladue. In R. v. Ipeelee,
the Supreme Court pointed out that some judges had erred in their application of
Gladue by concluding that it did not apply to serious offences or that it
required an offender to demonstrate a causal connection between the commission
of the crime and the legacy of residential schools or other background or
contextual factors that help explain why an Aboriginal offender is before the
courts.[140]

Even if excellent Gladue reports were prepared from coast to coast, they would
still fail to make a difference in the amount of Aboriginal overrepresentation
in the prison system without the addition of realistic alternatives to
imprisonment, including adequate resources for intensive community programs that
can respond to the conditions that caused Aboriginal offending.

Call to Action:

31) We call upon the federal, provincial, and territorial governments to provide
    sufficient and stable funding to implement and evaluate community sanctions
    that will provide realistic alternatives to imprisonment for Aboriginal
    offenders and respond to the underlying causes of offending.

A failure to provide sufficient and stable resources for the community and
treatment programs that are necessary to implement Gladue and Ipeelee helps
explain why those decisions have not slowed increasing Aboriginal
overrepresentation in prison. In addition to these significant challenges, there
are now new barriers to implementing effective and just alternative sentences
for Aboriginal offenders.

Mandatory minimum sentences

One of the most dramatic examples of the trend towards mandatory minimum
sentence is the Safe Streets and Communities Act (Bill C-10), which came into
force in 2012. The Act specifies minimum sentences that judges must impose for
certain crimes. As a result of the new legislation, certain offences are no
longer eligible for a conditional sentence.[141]

Bill C-10 and other similar Criminal Code amendments have undermined the 1996
reforms that required judges to consider all reasonable alternatives to
imprisonment, with particular attention to the circumstances of Aboriginal
offenders. The

Commission believes that the recent introduction of mandatory minimum sentences
and restrictions on conditional sentences will increase Aboriginal
overrepresentation in prison. Such developments are preventing judges from
implementing community sanctions even when they are consistent with the safety
of the community and even when they have a much greater potential than
imprisonment to respond to the intergenerational legacy of residential schools
that often results in offences by Aboriginal persons.[142]

Call to Action

32) We call upon the federal government to amend the Criminal Code to allow
    trial judges, upon giving reasons, to depart from mandatory minimum
    sentences and restrictions on the use of conditional sentences.

Offenders with FASD

There is another link between the substance abuse that has plagued many
residential school Survivors and the over-incarceration of Aboriginal people.
Fetal alcohol spectrum disorder (FASD) is a permanent brain injury caused when a
woman’s consumption of alcohol during pregnancy affects her fetus. The
disabilities associated with FASD include memory impairments, problems with
judgment and abstract reasoning, and poor adaptive functioning.[143] It is a
debilitating cognitive impairment, which children must live with for the rest of
their lives, through no fault of their own. A study done for the Aboriginal
Healing Foundation drew links among the intergenerational trauma of residential
schools, alcohol addictions, and FASD.[144] The study concluded that the
“residential school system contributed to the central risk factor involved,
substance abuse, but also to factors shown to be linked to alcohol abuse, such
as child and adult physical, emotional and sexual abuse, mental health problems
and family dysfunction.”[145]

About 1% of Canadian children are born with some form of disability related to
prenatal alcohol consumption, but estimates from Canada and the United States
suggest that 15% to 20% of prisoners have FASD.[146] A recent Canadian study
found that offenders with FASD had much higher rates of criminal involvement
than those without FASD, including more juvenile and adult convictions.[147] The
Commission believes there is a need to take urgent measures both to prevent FASD
and to better manage its harmful consequences. There is a clear need in
Aboriginal communities for more programming that addresses the problems of
addiction and FASD.

Call to Action

33) We call upon the federal, provincial, and territorial governments to
    recognize as a high priority the need to address and prevent Fetal Alcohol
    Spectrum Disorder (FASD), and to develop, in collaboration with Aboriginal
    people, FASD preventive programs that can be delivered in a culturally
    appropriate manner.

It is challenging for courts to deal with offenders with FASD, because obtaining
an official diagnosis entails a long and costly process of multidisciplinary
referrals. Even if trial judges have been educated about the symptoms of FASD,
they are generally unable to take notice of FASD without evidence of a
diagnosis.[148] Clearly, better diagnostic tools are needed, accompanied by
sufficient resources for intensive community programs as realistic alternatives
to jail and as support for people living with FASD to avoid repeated conflicts
with the law.

The recent enactment of mandatory minimum sentences for some offences further
complicates the situation of offenders with FASD because it denies judges the
flexibility to consider individual circumstances in their sentencing. There is a
danger that prison will be used unnecessarily as another expensive crisis
intervention for Aboriginal offenders with FASD, even though culturally
appropriate supports in the community could often be a more appropriate
approach.[149] As well as amending mandatory minimum sentencing laws, the
federal government can do much more to tailor correctional and parole resources
to facilitate the reintegration of offenders with FASD into their communities.

Call to Action

34) We call upon the governments of Canada, the provinces, and territories to
    undertake reforms to the criminal justice system to better address the needs
    of offenders with Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD), including:

i.  Providing increased community resources and powers for courts to ensure that
    FASD is properly diagnosed, and that appropriate community supports are in
    place for those with FASD.

ii. Enacting statutory exemptions from mandatory minimum sentences of
    imprisonment for offenders affected by FASD.

iii. Providing community, correctional, and parole resources to maximize the
     ability of people with FASD to live in the community.

iv. Adopting appropriate evaluation mechanisms to measure the effectiveness of
    such programs and ensure community safety.

Cultural services in prisons and jails

Studies based on interviews with Aboriginal inmates have confirmed that
Aboriginal culture and spirituality can contribute to the healing of the
inmates, to increased self-esteem, and to positive changes in lifestyle that
make release and reintegration a real possibility.[150] Research suggests that
recidivism rates for Aboriginal offenders who had participated in spiritual
activities (such as sweat lodge ceremonies) were lower than for those who had
not.[151]

However, Aboriginal people receive few services in provincial correctional
facilities that are designed for those serving sentences of two years less a day
or are awaiting trial. Only a few provinces, such as British Columbia, have
Aboriginal justice strategies that include cultural awareness training for
officials and contracting with Aboriginal communities to provide spiritual
leadership, counselling, and cultural programming for prisoners.[152]

The need for cultural programs in jail was expressed by a former residential
school student who was an inmate at a correctional facility in Yellowknife. The
Survivor told the Commission, “It would be nice if our own people would come in
here and teach us about life … you know, how to live. This is not the way of
life for us. It’s not the way for us people. But if they would teach a program
like that, that will catch somebody for sure.”[153]

There are some federal programs that appear to be working, but Aboriginal
inmates do not have access to these programs in all parts of the country. For
example, although Aboriginal healing lodges within correctional facilities have
great potential to assist Aboriginal inmates, there are only four such lodges
run by Correctional Services Canada and four run by Aboriginal communities under
Section 81 of the Corrections and Conditional Release Act.[154] Lack of funding
and difficulties in recruiting and training staff are obstacles to successful
expansion of the healing lodge resources. In addition, prisoners must be
classified as “minimum security” to be eligible, and 90% of Aboriginal inmates
are assigned “medium” or “maximum” security classifications.

Calls to Action

35) We call upon the federal government to eliminate barriers to the creation of
    additional Aboriginal healing lodges within the federal correctional system.

36) We call upon the federal, provincial, and territorial governments to work
    with Aboriginal communities to provide culturally relevant services to
    inmates on issues such as substance abuse, family and domestic violence, and
    overcoming the experience of having been sexually abused.

Parole and community supports

Aboriginal offenders face many challenges in obtaining parole from prison and
beginning their transition back into the community. For many Aboriginal inmates
seeking parole, their criminal history is a major factor held against them.
Although some research has concluded that criminal history is a reliable risk
predictor for both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal inmates, systemic
discrimination related to poverty and the legacy of residential schools
undoubtedly disadvantages Aboriginal offenders.[155] Just as some courts have
the benefit of background and contextual information contained in pre-sentencing
reports, parole hearings need a full understanding of an offender’s
circumstances when making their decisions.

When the National Parole Board grants parole, correctional programming
continues. The early stages of parole are often spent in a residential
correctional facility: a halfway house. Although it is not a prison, a halfway
house requires the offender to reside there and not be absent except under
specific exceptions (for example, supervised absences or employment). It is
intended as a transitional phase in an offender’s parole, neither full
incarceration nor full freedom in the community, with the goal of gradual
reintegration into the community. Unfortunately, there are too few halfway
houses that provide programming specifically for Aboriginal offenders.

Call to Action

37) We call upon the federal government to provide more supports for Aboriginal
    programming in halfway houses and parole services.

Overrepresentation of youth

The youth justice system, perhaps even more than the adult criminal justice
system, is failing Aboriginal families. Aboriginal girls make up 49% of the
youth admitted to custody, and Aboriginal boys are 36% of those admitted to
custody.[156] The current law regarding young people accused of crimes is the
Youth Criminal Justice Act, which was introduced in 2002. One of the key
objectives of the Act is to reserve jail for the most violent or habitual
offenders. Even in such cases, one of the express goals of the youth criminal
justice system is to address the circumstances underlying a young person’s
offending behaviour in order to rehabilitate and reintegrate them.[157] The Act
has the flexibility to allow Aboriginal communities to have some measure of
control over the youth process and to ensure Aboriginal perspectives are
considered in individual cases.

By many objective measures, the Youth Criminal Justice Act has been a success.
Since it came into effect, there has been a steady decline in youth crime, youth
court caseloads, and youth supervised on community sentences and in
custody.[158] But one thing the Act has not succeeded in doing is reducing the
overrepresentation of Aboriginal youth in the criminal justice system.[159] The
great vulnerability and disadvantage experienced by so many Aboriginal youth
undoubtedly contribute to their overrepresentation, a factor that is intimately
tied to the legacy of the residential schools. Many of today’s Aboriginal
children and youth live with the legacy of residential schools every day, as
they struggle to deal with high rates of addictions, fetal alcohol disorder,
mental health issues, family violence, incarceration of parents, and the
intrusion of child-welfare authorities. All these factors place them at greater
risk of involvement with crime.

The growing overrepresentation of Aboriginal youth in custody mirrors and is
likely related to the even more dramatic overrepresentation of Aboriginal
children in the care of child-welfare agencies. Research in British Columbia
found that 35.5% of youth in care are also involved in the youth justice system,
as compared with only 4.4% of youth who are not in care.[160] The Commission
believes that there are ways to reduce the growing overrepresentation of
Aboriginal youth, but that they will be found primarily outside the justice
system. There is an urgent need to support Aboriginal families and alleviate the
poverty experienced by many Aboriginal communities. The federal government
should take the lead by committing the resources necessary to eliminating the
overrepresentation of Aboriginal children and youth in care and custody. Part of
that commitment should include collecting and publishing better data to measure
progress.

Call to Action

38) We call upon the federal, provincial, territorial, and Aboriginal
    governments to commit to eliminating the overrepresentation of Aboriginal
    youth in custody over the next decade.

Victimization of Aboriginal people

An astonishing number of Aboriginal children were victims of crime in
residential schools. By the end of 2014, the Independent Assessment Process had
resolved 30,939 sexual or serious physical abuse claims, awarding $2.69 billion
in compensation.[161] Although not every case would have involved a criminal
act, the vast majority did, easily allowing anyone to conclude that the Indian
Residential Schools Settlement Agreement involved the largest single recognition
of criminal victimization in Canadian history. This victimization of children
has carried profound and long-lasting effects. Ruby Firth, a former student at
Stringer Hall, told the Commission,

  All through my, residential school … I was a victim. They put me in that frame
  of mind where I was a victim. I was four years old being a victim. Five years
  old, couldn’t stop it. Six years old, couldn’t stop it. Seven years old,
  couldn’t stop it. So at some point my brain is going to say, “This is never
  going to stop!” So that’s what I was doing in my adult life too because it
  didn’t stop in my childhood, I was doing that in my adult, “This is never
  going to stop.”[162]

The justice system continues to fail Aboriginal victims of crime. There are few
services available for Aboriginal victims of crime. Victim compensation schemes
are often lacking and often fail to recognize the distinct needs of Aboriginal
victims of crime.

The statistics are startling. Aboriginal people are 58% more likely to be
victimized by crime.[163] Aboriginal women report being victimized by violent
crime at a rate almost three times higher than non-Aboriginal women—13% of
Aboriginal women reported being victimized by violent crime in 2009.[164] In the
same year, one in ten Aboriginal people reported being a victim of a non-spousal
violent crime, more than double the rate reported by non-Aboriginal people.

It is difficult to obtain accurate information about the rate of victimization
in Aboriginal communities. According to some studies, less than one-third of
victims of crime report their victimization to police, and police forces across
the country do not have a consistent method for recording the Aboriginal
identity of victims.[165] Statistics Canada does not provide the kinds of
supports necessary to permit some Aboriginal victims to comfortably disclose
their experience to researchers. The most recent Statistics Canada data on
homicide and family violence fail to report how many victims were Aboriginal,
although older data suggest the homicide victimization rate of Aboriginal people
between 1997 and 2000 was seven times that of non-Aboriginal people.[166]

Call to Action

39) We call upon the federal government to develop a national plan to collect
    and publish data on the criminal victimization of Aboriginal people,
    including data related to homicide and family violence victimization.

This data should be used to guide the development and funding of culturally
appropriate services for Aboriginal victims of crime and to help make
measureable reductions in the overrepresentation of Aboriginal people among
crime victims.

Call to Action

40) We call upon all levels of government, in collaboration with Aboriginal
    people, to create adequately funded and accessible Aboriginal-specific
    victim programs and services with appropriate evaluation mechanisms.

Violence against Aboriginal women and girls

The overrepresentation of Aboriginal women and girls among crime victims is
particularly disturbing. Aboriginal women and girls are more likely than other
women to experience risk factors for violence. They are disproportionately
young, poor, unemployed, and likely to have been involved with the child-welfare
system and to live in a community marked by social disorder.[167]

Velma Jackson, who attended the Blue Quills residential school in Alberta, told
the Commission her story.

  A lot of other girls my age were [in Blue Quills], but I only know of one that
  survived, all the rest are dead today. Some died on the street. Some died
  prostituting. Others into alcoholism got run over by vehicles. But their
  children are still alive today…. I can’t to this day wear a dress because of
  all the things that happened in the school. It was like a sanctuary for
  pedophiles I would call it, that’s probably why I blocked out so much of my
  life is because of that.[168]

The most disturbing aspect of this victimization is the extraordinary number of
Aboriginal women who have been murdered or are reported as missing. A report by
the RCMP, released in 2014, found that between 1980 and 2012, 1,017 Aboriginal
women and girls were killed and 164 were missing. Two hundred and twenty-five of
these cases remain unsolved.[169]

More research is needed, but the available information suggests a devastating
link between the large numbers of missing and murdered Aboriginal women and the
many harmful background factors in their lives. These include:
overrepresentation of Aboriginal children in child-welfare care; domestic and
sexual violence; racism, poverty, and poor educational and health opportunities
in Aboriginal communities; discriminatory practices against women related to
band membership and Indian status; and inadequate supports for Aboriginal people
in cities. This complex interplay of factors—many of which are part of the
legacy of residential schools—needs to be examined, as does the lack of success
of police forces in solving these crimes against Aboriginal women.

Call to Action

41) We call upon the federal government, in consultation with Aboriginal
    organizations, to appoint a public inquiry into the causes of, and remedies
    for, the disproportionate victimization of Aboriginal women and girls. The
    inquiry’s mandate would include:

i.  Investigation into missing and murdered Aboriginal women and girls.

ii. Links to the intergenerational legacy of residential schools.

Strategies for change

Multi-pronged strategies are necessary to respond to the harmful legacy of
residential schools, as demonstrated in part by the overrepresentation of
Aboriginal people among prisoners and crime victims. Compiling better data on
Aboriginal overrepresentation in the justice system is a starting point.
Collection of this data must be coupled with developing measurable goals for
reducing this overrepresentation and providing the resources necessary to reach
those goals. The approach must be an holistic and culturally appropriate one
that addresses the need for improvements in health, education, and economic
development in Aboriginal communities.

Any strategy aimed at reducing Aboriginal offending and victimization must also
include recognition of the rights of Aboriginal communities to develop their own
justice systems as part of a larger commitment to Aboriginal self-determination
and self-government. These rights are grounded in international and
constitutional law as well as in the Treaties. Aboriginal forms of justice may
be as diverse as Canada’s Aboriginal peoples themselves. It is a central
conclusion of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada that recognition
of the Aboriginal right to self-determination, more appropriate funding
allocations for services from governments, and methodical tracking of progress
are the preconditions for redressing the disastrous legacy of residential
schools and aiding the long process of reconciliation within Canada.

Call to Action

42) We call upon the federal, provincial, and territorial governments to commit
    to the recognition and implementation of Aboriginal justice systems in a
    manner consistent with the Treaty and Aboriginal rights of Aboriginal
    peoples, the Constitution Act, 1982, and the United Nations Declaration on
    the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, endorsed by Canada in November 2012.

The Commission is convinced that genuine reconciliation will not be possible
until the broad legacy of the schools is both understood and addressed.
Governments in Canada spend billions of dollars each year in responding to the
symptoms of the intergenerational trauma of residential schools. Much of this
money is spent on crisis interventions related to child welfare, family
violence, ill health, and crime. Despite genuine reform efforts, the dramatic
overrepresentation of Aboriginal children in foster care, and among the sick,
the injured, and the imprisoned, continues to grow. Only a real commitment to
reconciliation will reverse the trend and lay the foundation for a truly just
and equitable nation.

Endnotes

[1] TRC, AVS, Johanne Coutu-Autut, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Rankin Inlet, Nunavut, 21 March 2011, Statement Number:
2011- 0160.

[2] TRC, AVS, Joseph Martin Larocque, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, 21 June 2012, Statement Number:
2011-4386.

[3] TRC, AVS, Mervin Mirasty, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, 21 June 2012, Statement Number:
2011-4391.

[4] TRC, AVS, Genine Paul-Dimitracopoulos, Statement to the Truth and
Reconciliation Commission of Canada, Halifax, Nova Scotia, 27 October 2011,
Statement Number: 2011-2862.

[5] TRC, AVS, Alma Scott, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation of Canada,
Winnipeg, Manitoba, 17 June 2010, Statement Number: 02-MB-16JU10-016.

[6] Canada, Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada, Interim Report,
Recommendation 15, 29.

[7] Canada, Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development Canada, Canada’s
Statement of Support,
http://www.aadnc-aandc.gc.ca/eng/1309374239861/1309374546142.

[8] TRC, NRA, INAC – Resolution Sector – IRS Historical Files Collection –
Ottawa, file 6-21-1, volume 2 (Ctrl #27-6), H. M. Jones to Deputy Minister, 13
December 1956. [NCA-001989-0001]

[9] For a discussion that places both child welfare and residential schools in
the context of the ongoing colonization of Aboriginal people, see: McKenzie and
Hudson, “Native Children.”

[10] Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, as cited in Sinha and Kozlowski,
“Structure of Aboriginal Child Welfare,” 4.

[11] Canada, Statistics Canada, Aboriginal People in Canada, 19.

[12] TRC, AVS, Norma Kassi, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission
of Canada, Inuvik, Northwest Territories, 29 June 2011, Statement Number:
NNE203.

[13] United Nations, Convention on the Rights of the Child, Concluding
observations, 12–13.

[14] United Nations, Convention on the Rights of the Child, Concluding
observations, 7.

[15] Vandna et al., Kiskisik Awasisak, x–xi.

[16] Vandna et al., Kiskisik Awasisak, xi. The authors concluded that there was
not enough data on Métis and Inuit children, and excluded them from the study.
Vandna et al., Kiskisik Awasisak, ix.

[17] Vandna et al., Kiskisik Awasisak, 83–87.

[18] Vandna et al., Kiskisik Awasisak, xviii.

[19] Vandna et al., Kiskisik Awasisak, xii.

[20] Ruiz-Casares et al., “Supervisory Neglect,” 478.

[21] TRC, AVS, [Name redacted], Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Winnipeg, Manitoba, 19 June 2010, Statement Number:
02-MB-19JU10-048.

[22] TRC, AVS, Linda Clarke, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, St. Albert, Alberta, 12 June 2011, Statement Number:
2011-0013.

[23] Information about ethnicity was available for 94 of the 145 children who
have died in foster care since 1999. Of that number, 74 were Aboriginal. “Deaths
of Alberta Aboriginal Children in Care No ‘Fluke of Statistics,’” Edmonton
Journal, 8 January 2014,
http://www.edmontonjournal.com/life/Deaths+Alberta+aboriginal+children+care+fluke+statistics/9212384/story.html
(accessed 18 February 2014).

[24] Sinha and Kozlowski, “Structure of Aboriginal Child Welfare,” 3; “Deaths of
Alberta Aboriginal Children in Care No ‘Fluke of Statistics,’” Edmonton Journal,
8 January 2014,
http://www.edmontonjournal.com/life/Deaths+Alberta+aboriginal+children+care+fluke+statistics/9212384/story.html
(accessed 18 February 2014).

[25] Sinha and Kozlowski, “Structure of Aboriginal Child Welfare,” 4.

[26] Canada, Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development Canada, Program
Expenditures/Statistics, First Nations Child and Family Services Program
Statistics, First Nations children ordinarily resident on reserve in care,
https://www.aadnc-aandc.gc.ca/eng/1382549135936/1382549233428 (accessed 1 May
2015).

[27] National Collaborating Centre for Aboriginal Health, Child and Youth
Health, 3.

[28] Wien et al., “Keeping First Nations Children at Home,” 13.

[29] Blackstock et al., Wen: de: We Are Coming, 38.

[30] Blackstock et al., Wen: de: We Are Coming, 89–90.

[31] Cradock, “Extraordinary Costs,” 179.

[32] Canada, Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development Canada, “Jordan’s
Principle,” http://www.aadnc-aandc.gc.ca/eng/1334329827982/1334329861879
(accessed 3 January 2014).

[33] Pictou Landing Band Council v. Canada (Attorney General), 2013 FC 342
(CanLII), para. 82.

[34] Pictou Landing Band Council v. Canada (Attorney General), 2013 FC 342
(CanLII), para. 82.

[35] Fletcher, “Origins of the Indian Child Welfare Act,” 1, 4.

[36] Atwood, “Voice of the Indian Child,” 128.

[37] TRC, AVS, Doris Young, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission
of Canada, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, 22 June 2012, Statement Number: 2011-3517.

[38] Canada, Annual Report of the Department of Indian Affairs, 1942, 154;
Canada, Annual Report of the Department of Indian Affairs, 1943, 168; Canada,
Annual Report of the Department of Indian Affairs, 1944, 177; Canada, Annual
Report of the Department of Indian Affairs, 1945, 190; Canada, Annual Report of
the Department of Indian Affairs, 1946, 231; Canada, Annual Report of the
Department of Indian Affairs, 1947, 236; Canada, Annual Report of the Department
of Indian Affairs, 1948, 234; Canada, Annual Report of the Department of Indian
Affairs, 1949, 215; Canada, Annual Report of the Department of Indian Affairs,
1950, 86–87; Canada, Annual Report of the Department of Indian Affairs, 1951,
34–35; Canada, Annual Report of the Department of Indian Affairs, 1952, 74–75;
Canada, Annual Report of the Department of Indian Affairs, 1953, 82–83; Canada,
Annual Report of the Department of Indian Affairs, 1954, 88–89; Canada, Annual
Report of the Department of Indian Affairs, 1955, 78–79; Canada, Annual Report
of the Department of Indian Affairs, 1956, 76–77; Canada, Annual Report of the
Department of Indian Affairs, 1956–57, 88–89; Canada, Annual Report of the
Department of Indian Affairs, 1958, 91; Canada, Annual Report of the Department
of Indian Affairs, 1959, 94; Canada, Annual Report of the Department of Indian
Affairs, 1960, 94; Canada, Annual Report of the Department of Indian Affairs,
1961, 102; Canada, Annual Report of the Department of Indian Affairs, 1962, 73;
Canada, Annual Report of the Department of Indian Affairs, 1963, 62.

[39] United Nations, Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, Article
14:1, http://www.un.org/esa/socdev/unpfii/documents/DRIPS_en.pdf.

[40] Bougie and Senecal, “Registered Indian Children’s School Success,” 21.

[41] Bougie and Senecal, “Registered Indian Children’s School Success,” 21.

[42] Canada, Statistics Canada, Educational Portrait of Canada, Census Year
2006, 6, 19.

[43] Canada, Statistics Canada Fact Sheet, 2011 National Household Survey
Aboriginal Demographics,
https://www.aadnc-aandc.gc.ca/eng/1376329205785/1376329233875.

[44] National Committee on Inuit Education, First Canadians, Canadians First,
https://www.itk.ca/sites/default/files/National-Strategy-on-Inuit-Education-2011_0.pdf,
7; Penny, “Formal Educational Attainment,” 33; Canada, Statistics Canada,
Educational attainment of Aboriginal peoples,
http://www12.statcan.gc.ca/nhs-enm/2011/as-sa/99-012-x/99-012-x2011003_3-eng.pdf.

[45] Richards et al., Understanding the Aboriginal/Non-Aboriginal Gap, 1; Wilk
et al., “Métis Educational Attainment,” 51–52.

[46] Canadian Human Rights Commission, “Report on Equality Rights,” 3, 12, 32.

[47] Canada, Statistics Canada, Aboriginal People Living Off-reserve, 15.

[48] Canada, Statistics Canada, “Census Inuit Table: 89-636-x,”
http://www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/89-636x/89-636-x2008001-eng.htm.

[49] Joe Friesen, “Ottawa Failing to Include First Nations in Key Employment
Data,” Globe and Mail, 23 January 2015,
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/politics/unemployment-stats-missing-inareas-where-job-training-is-a-priority/article22598523
(accessed 1 May 2015).

[50] Wilson and Macdonald, Income Gap, 8.

[51] Wilson and Macdonald, Income Gap, 4.

[52] Macdonald and Wilson, Poverty or Prosperity, 6.

[53] Wilson and Macdonald, Income Gap, 14.

[54] Canadian Human Rights Commission, Report on Equality Rights of Aboriginal
People, 17. The poverty line is measured by the 2009 SLID Low-Income Measure
(LIM).

[55] Canadian Human Rights Commission, Report on Equality Rights of Aboriginal
People, 18–19.

[56] Canada, Standing Senate Committee on Aboriginal Peoples, Reforming First
Nations Education, 9.

[57] Canada, Department of Indian and Northern Affairs, “Indian Education Paper:
Phase 1,” 1982, as cited in Paquette and Fallon, First Nations Education Policy,
80.

[58] Canada, Standing Senate Committee on Aboriginal Peoples, Reforming First
Nations Education, 56.

[59] McCue, First Nations 2nd and 3rd Level Education Services, 52,
http://www.afn.ca/uploads/files/education/9._2006_april_harvey_mccue_first_nations_2nd_&_3rd_level_services_paper.pdf.

[60] Canada, Standing Senate Committee on Aboriginal Peoples, Reforming First
Nations Education, 11; First Nations Education Council, Funding Formula for
First Nation Schools,
http://www.cepnfnec.com/PDF/etudes_documents/fiche_complete_eng.pdf.

[61] Canada, Standing Senate Committee on Aboriginal Peoples, Reforming First
Nations Education, 11, 31.

[62] First Nations Education Council, Funding Formula for First Nation Schools,
1, http://www.cepnfnec.com/PDF/etudes_documents/fiche_complete_eng.pdf.

[63] Canada, Standing Senate Committee on Aboriginal Peoples, Reforming First
Nations Education, 35.

[64] Canada, Standing Senate Committee on Aboriginal Peoples, Reforming First
Nations Education; Assembly of First Nations, National Panel on First Nation
Elementary and Secondary Education for Students on Reserve, Nurturing the
Learning Spirit, http://www.afn.ca/uploads/files/education2/national-panel.pdf;
First Nations Education Council et al., Report on Priority Actions,
http://www.cepnfnec.com/PDF/accueil/Report%20on%20Priority%20Actions%20in%20View%20of%20Improving%20First%20Nations%20Education%20-%20November%202011_eng_website%20version_.pdf.

[65] TRC, AVS, Albert Marshall, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Winnipeg, Manitoba, 17 June 2010, Statement Number:
02-MB-17JU10-050.

[66] Assembly of First Nations, National Panel on First Nation Elementary and
Secondary Education for Students on Reserve, Nurturing the Learning Spirit, 14,
http://www.afn.ca/uploads/files/education2/national-panel.pdf.

[67] Hodgson-Smith, State of Métis Nation Learning, 4, 26,
http://www.ccl-cca.ca/pdfs/AbLKC/StateOfMetisNationLearning.pdf.

[68] Hodgson-Smith, State of Métis Nation Learning, 4, 17, 82,
<http://www.ccl-cca.ca/pdfs/AbLKC/ StateOfMetisNationLearning.pdf>.

[69] National Committee on Inuit Education, First Canadians, Canadians First,
7–9, 76–79.

[70] National Committee on Inuit Education, First Canadians, Canadians First,
80.

[71] Canada, Statistics Canada, The Educational Attainment of Aboriginal People,
Table 2,
https://www12.statcan.gc.ca/nhs-enm/2011/as-sa/99-012-x/99-012-x2011003_3-eng.cfm.

[72] Canada, Auditor General of Canada, Status Report, 13,
http://www.oag-bvg.gc.ca/internet/docs/parl_oag_201106_04_e.pdf.

[73] TRC, AVS, Geraldine Bob, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Fort Simpson, Northwest Territories, 23 November 2011,
Statement Number: 2011-2685.

[74] Assembly of First Nations, “Financial Support for First Nation Students in
College and University: The Cost of Implementing the Recommendations of the
Standing Committee of the House of Commons on Aboriginal Affairs and Northern
Development,” as cited in First Nations Education Council, Paper on First
Nations Education Funding, 35.

[75] Assembly of First Nations, Chiefs Assembly on Education, Early Childhood
Education, http://www.afn.ca/uploads/files/events/fact_sheet-ccoe-5.pdf.

[76] Assembly of First Nations, Breaking the Silence, 25–26.

[77] Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, Gathering Strength, 3:612–613.

[78] TRC, AVS, Michael Sillett, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Halifax, Nova Scotia, 27 October 2011, Statement Number:
2011-2870.

[79] TRC, NRA, INAC – Resolution Sector – IRS Historical Files Collection –
Ottawa, file 81/25-1 (Ctrl #240-13), R. Morris to Chiefs, Petahbun [Pehtabun]
Area, 9 February 1979, 2–3. [NCA-001721]

[80] TRC, AVS, Conrad Burns, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Regina, Saskatchewan, 17 January 2012, Statement Number:
SP036.

[81] United Nations, International Covenant, Article 27.

[82] United Nations, Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, articles
8, 13, 14, and 16.

[83] TRC, AVS, Agnes Mills, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission
of Canada, Inuvik, Northwest Territories, 29 June 2011, Statement Number: SC090.

[84] TRC, AVS, Mary Courchene, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Pine Creek First Nation, Manitoba, 28 November 2011,
Statement Number: 2011-2515.

[85] Canada, Statistics Canada, Aboriginal Peoples and Language,
http://www12.statcan.gc.ca/nhsenm/2011/as-sa/99-011-x/99-011-x2011003_1-eng.cfm.

[86] Canada, Statistics Canada, Aboriginal Peoples and Language,
http://www12.statcan.gc.ca/nhsenm/2011/as-sa/99-011-x/99-011-x2011003_1-eng.cfm;
Canada, Statistics Canada, Population reporting an Aboriginal identity,
http://www.statcan.gc.ca/tables-tableaux/sum-som/l01/cst01/demo38a-eng.htm;
Canada, Statistics Canada, Aboriginal Languages in Canada,
http://www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/11-008-x/2007001/9628-eng.htm.

[87] Moseley and Nicolas, Atlas of the World’s Languages, 117.

[88] R. v. Van der Peet, 1996 CanLII 216 (SCC).

[89] Assembly of First Nations, Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples at 10
Years, 18.

[90] Canada, House of Commons Debates (2 November 2006), 1010.

[91] TRC, AVS, Michael Sillett, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Halifax, Nova Scotia, 27 October 2011, Statement Number:
2011-2870.

[92] Email from Glenn Morrisson, Policy Manager of the Aboriginal Affairs
Directorate in the Citizenship Participation Branch, to the Truth and
Reconciliation Commission (July 9, 2012).

[93] Canada, Department of Canadian Heritage, 2012–2013 Report on Plans and
Priorities, 26.

[94] Canada, Standing Senate Committee on Legal and Constitutional Affairs,
Language Rights in Canada’s North, 19–20.

[95] TRC, AVS, Sabrina Williams, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Victoria, British Columbia, 13 April 2012, Statement
Number: 2011-3982.

[96] French, My Name Is Masak, 19.

[97] Gresko, “Everyday Life at Qu’Appelle Industrial School,” 80.

[98] TRC, AVS, Ruby Firth, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission
of Canada, Inuvik, Northwest Territories, 22 July 2011, Statement Number:
2011-0326.

[99] TRC, AVS, Sonia Wuttunee-Byrd, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Winnipeg, Manitoba, 16 June 2010, Statement Number: SC093.

[100] TRC, AVS, Katherine Copenace, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Winnipeg, Manitoba, 16 June 2010, Statement Number:
02-MB-16JU10-129.

[101] United Nations, Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, articles
7, 21, 22, 24.

[102] United Nations, Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, Article
23.

[103] United Nations, Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, articles
24, 31.

[104] National Collaborating Centre for Aboriginal Health, Looking for
Aboriginal Health, 43–50.

[105] Canada, Report of an Interdepartmental Working Group to the Committee of
Deputy Ministers on Justice and Legal Affairs, Fiduciary Relationship of the
Crown with Aboriginal Peoples: Implementation and Management Issues – A Guide
for Managers (Ottawa, 1995), 13, as cited in Boyer, No. 1 Aboriginal Health, 5,
20–21.

[106] Boyer, No. 1 Aboriginal Health, 19–21, 23.

[107] Boyer, No. 1 Aboriginal Health, 19.

[108] Smylie, “Review of Aboriginal Infant Mortality Rates, 147.

[109] Canada, Statistics Canada, Mortality rates among children and teenagers,
http://www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/82-003-x/2012003/article/11695-eng.htm.

[110] Canada, Statistics Canada, Select health indicators of First Nations
people, http://www.statcan.gc.ca/daily-quotidien/130129/dq130129b-eng.htm.

[111] First Nations Centre, First Nations Regional Longitudinal Health Survey,
114.

[112] Kirmayer et al., Suicide Among Aboriginal People, xv, 22.

[113] Australia, Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet, Closing the Gap,
http://www.dpmc.gov.au/pmc-indigenous-affairs/publication/closing-gap-prime-ministers-report-2015.

[114] Canadian Medical Association, “Aboriginal Health Programming under Siege,”
E740.

[115] TRC, AVS, Trudy King, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission
of Canada, Fort Resolution, Northwest Territories, 28 April 2011, Statement
Number: 2011-0381.

[116] TRC, AVS, M. R. E. Linklater, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Winnipeg, Manitoba, 18 June 2010, Statement Number:
02-MB-18JU10-055.

[117] Chansonneuve, Addictive Behaviours, 42–46.

[118] TRC, ASAGR, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, M. W. Pacholuk, Final Report of
the Native Indian Residential School Task Force, Project E-NIRS, Royal Canadian
Mounted Police, no date, 20, 21, 28, 45. [RCMP-564517]

[119] TRC, ASGAR, Stephen N. S. Thatcher, Affidavit in Supreme Court of BC, no
date, 25–35. [RCMP564327]

[120] TRC, ASAGR, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, M. W. Pacholuk, Final Report of
the Native Indian Residential School Task Force, Project E-NIRS, Royal Canadian
Mounted Police, no date, 27, 32, 45. [RCMP-564517]

[121] TRC, ASAGR, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, M. W. Pacholuk, Final Report of
the Native Indian Residential School Task Force, Project E-NIRS, Royal Canadian
Mounted Police, no date, 40. [RCMP-564517]

[122] Criminal Code, 1985, chapter C-46, section 274.

[123] Canada, Indian Residential Schools Adjudication Secretariat, Adjudication
Secretariat Statistics, from September 19, 2007, January 31, 2015,
http://iap-pei.ca/information/stats-eng.php (accessed 20 February 2015).

[124] TRC, ASAGR, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, M. W. Pacholuk, Final Report of
the Native Indian Residential School Task Force, Project E-NIRS, Royal Canadian
Mounted Police, no date, 45. [RCMP-564517]

[125] Canada, Law Commission of Canada, Restoring Dignity, 151, 178.

[126] Indian Residential Schools Settlement Agreement,
http://www.residentialschoolsettlement.ca/IRS%20Settlement%20Agreement-%20ENGLISH.pdf.

[127] TRC, AVS, Bernard Catcheway, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Skownan First Nation, Manitoba, 12 October 2011, Statement
Number: 2011-2510.

[128] TRC, AVS, Amelia Galligos-Thomas, Statement to the Truth and
Reconciliation Commission of Canada, Victoria, British Columbia, 14 April 2012,
Statement Number: 2011-3975.

[129] Canada, Statistics Canada, Adult Correctional Services in Canada
1995–1996, http://www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/85-002-x/85-002-x1997004-eng.pdf;
Canada, Statistics Canada, Adult Correctional Services in Canada 2011–2012,
http://www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/85-002-x/2014001/article/11918-eng.htm#a5.

[130] Canada, Statistics Canada, Adult Correctional Services in Canada,
2011–2012,
http://www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/85-002-x/2014001/article/11918-eng.htm#a5.

[131] Canada, Statistics Canada, Adult Correctional Services in Canada,
2011–2012,
http://www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/85-002-x/2014001/article/11918-eng.htm#a5.

[132] TRC, AVS, [Name redacted], Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Long Plain First Nation, Manitoba, 27 July 2010, Statement
Number: 01-MB-26JY10-011.

[133] TRC, AVS, Daniel Andre, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Whitehorse, Yukon, 23 May 2011, Statement Number:
2011-0202.

[134] TRC, AVS, Grace Campbell, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Winnipeg, Manitoba, 16 June 2010, Statement Number:
02-MB-16JU10-136.

[135] Criminal Code, 1985, chapter C-46, section 718.2(e).

[136] TRC, AVS, Joseph Martin Larocque, Statement to the Truth and
Reconciliation Commission of Canada, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, 21 June 2012,
Statement Number: 2011-4386.

[137] R. v. Gladue, 1999 CanLII 679 (SCC), para. 58–65.

[138] R. v. Gladue, 1999 CanLII 679 (SCC), para. 64.

[139] For a description of the process of preparing Gladue reports, see:
Istvanffy, Gladue Primer.

[140] R. v. Ipeelee, 2012 SCC 13 (CanLII), para. 81, 84.

[141] Safe Streets and Communities Act, 2012, chapter 1.

[142] There have been some recent cases in which courts have made decisions
counter to the mandatory minimum provisions. See, for example: R. v. Smickle,
2012, ONSC 602 (CanLII).

[143] Canada, Public Safety Canada, Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder, 5,
http://www.publicsafety.gc.ca/cnt/rsrcs/pblctns/ftl-lchl-spctrm/ftl-lchl-spctrm-eng.pdf.

[144] Tait, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.

[145] Tait, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, xviii.

[146] Ospina and Dennett, Systematic Review, iii.

[147] Canada, Correctional Service of Canada, Fetal Alcohol Spectrum
Disorder(FASD), iv, http://www.publicsafety.gc.ca/lbrr/archives/cn21451-eng.pdf.

[148] R. v. Harris, 2002 BCCA 152 (CanLII), para. 18–20.

[149] Mitten, “Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders,”
http://www.justicereformcomm.sk.ca/volume2/12section9.pdf.

[150] For a study that involved interviews with inmates in a minimum security
institution designed specifically for Aboriginal inmates, see: Braun,
Colonization, Destruction, and Renewal. See also: Waldram, The Way of the Pipe,
129–150; Crutcher and Trevethan, Examination of Healing Lodges, 52.

[151] Nielson, “Canadian Aboriginal Healing Lodges.”

[152] British Columbia, Ministry of Justice, Corrections Branch, Aboriginal
Programs and Relationships, Inclusivity,
http://www.pssg.gov.bc.ca/corrections/docs/AboriginalStratPlan.pdf.

[153] TRC, AVS, Chris Gargan, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, 30 October 2012,
Statement Number: 2011-0430.

[154] Corrections and Conditional Release Act, SC 1992, chapter 20,
http://canlii.ca/t/52db0.

[155] Bonta et al., “Risk Prediction,” 127.

[156] Canada, Statistics Canada, Youth Correctional Services in Canada
2011–2012,
http://www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/85-002-x/2014001/article/11917-eng.htm#a5; Canada,
Department of Justice, Youth Justice Research, “A One-Day Snapshot,” 3. These
figures do not include Saskatchewan, which has a high rate of Aboriginal youth
incarceration.

[157] Youth Criminal Justice Act, SC 2002, chapter 1, section 38(1).

[158] Canada, Statistics Canada, “Youth Court Statistics 2011/2012,”
http://www.statcan.gc.ca/daily-quotidien/130613/dq130613d-eng.pdf; Canada,
Statistics Canada, Youth Correctional Statistics in Canada, 2010/2011; Canadian
Bar Association, Submission on Bill C-10, 8,
http://www.cba.org/cba/submissions/PDF/11-45-eng.pdf. Not all provinces and
territories have seen a decrease in youth in correctional services. In fact,
since 2005–06, rates have increased in Manitoba, Yukon, and Alberta. Canada,
Statistics Canada, Youth Correctional Statistics in Canada, 2010/2011, 5.

[159] Canada, Statistics Canada, Youth Correctional Statistics in Canada,
2010/2011, 7.

[160] British Columbia, Office of the Provincial Health Officer, “Health, Crime
and Doing Time,” http://www.health.gov.bc.ca/pho/pdf/health-crime-2013.pdf.

[161] Canada, Indian Residential Schools Adjudication Secretariat, Adjudication
Secretariat Statistics, from September 19, 2007, January 31, 2015,
http://iap-pei.ca/information/stats-eng.php (accessed 20 February 2015).

[162] TRC, AVS, Ruby Firth, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission
of Canada, Inuvik, Northwest Territories, 22 July 2011, Statement Number:
2011-0326.

[163] Canada, Statistics Canada, Violent Victimization of Aboriginal People,
http://wgc.ca/pub/85002-x/2011001/article/11415-eng.pdf.

[164] Canada, Statistics Canada, Violent Victimization of Aboriginal Women,
http://www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/85-002-x/2011001/article/11439-eng.pdf.

[165] Canada, Statistics Canada, Violent Victimization of Aboriginal People, 15,
http://wgc.ca/pub/85002-x/2011001/article/11415-eng.pdf; Canada, Statistics
Canada, Measuring Violence Against Women, 67; Native Women’s Association of
Canada, Voices of Our Sisters in Spirit, 6,
http://www.nwac.ca/sites/default/files/download/admin/NWAC_VoicesofOurSistersInSpiritII_March2009FINAL.pdf.

[166] Canada, Statistics Canada, Victimization and Offending,
http://www.statcan.gc.ca/pub/85-002x/85-002-x2006003-eng.pdf.

[167] Canada, Statistics Canada, Measuring Violence Against Women, 9, 19; Native
Women’s Association of Canada, Voices of Our Sisters in Spirit, 94–95,
http://www.nwac.ca/sites/default/files/download/admin/NWAC_VoicesofOurSistersInSpiritII_March2009FINAL.pdf.

[168] TRC, AVS, Velma Jackson, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission of Canada, St. Paul, Alberta, 6 January 2011, Statement Number:
01-AB-06JA11-003.

[169] Royal Canadian Mounted Police, Missing and Murdered Aboriginal Women, 3,
http://www.rcmp-grc.gc.ca/pubs/mmaw-faapd-eng.pdf.