Surviving a ‘prison for children’: New documentary on Mohawk Institute a story of healing
The long driveway leading to the main entrance of the Mush Hole was a gateway to hell."
What went on there was pure evil," narrated survivor Bud Whiteye in a documentary about the horrors he faced at that residential school. .
The Mohawk Institute Residential School was a prison for children," added survivor Jimmie Edgar in the documentary about survivors of the Brantford-area institute.
Soft twinkle lights illuminated a small Theatre Aquarius auditorium Sunday afternoon, as about 100 people gathered around small, round tables draped in red cloth, for an intimate" screening of The Nature of Healing." In the moving, three-part documentary, survivors of the Mohawk Institute share the abuse they suffered and their journeys to come to terms with it.
The documentary, first screened in Beverly Hills in March, is set to hit screens across the province in the coming weeks.
It's not an easy thing to do, but I think it's something that's really necessary," survivor Roberta Hill said of the documentary. When you see that on the film then you realize, here's real people. This is what happened to them in their childhood."
At least 15,000 children attended the former Mohawk Institute, one of the country's oldest and longest-running residential schools. Survivors say they experienced emotional, physical and sexual abuse at the hands of staff, and were stripped of culture, language and identity.
The Indian Residential School system has since been recognized in Canada as genocide.
There is a place I know far, far away, where we get mush and milk three times a day," narrated Edgar, now a poet. O Canada, do you think we should be proud?"
First-time director Faith Howe said she knew the minute she heard Edgar's poem, Grandmother's Voice," that it should narrate the documentary, threading together survivors' stories of healing and pain.
Whiteye described on screen being raped many times while at the Mohawk Institute.
The first time, the boiler operator he thought had become his friend invited him into the dark, steamy room to see the machine that heated the building.
I got to trust the guy," he said.
Survivors described getting strapped - sometimes until his abuser sweat, remembers survivor John Elliott - eating gruel, which ultimately gave the institute its ominous nickname of Mush Hole, and being forced to work. Siblings were separated, boys on one side of the building, girls on the other.
Roberta Hill said her mother thought she and her siblings were dead. Residential schools stole not only from the kids who attended them, but from parents, grandparents and communities.
There's a big impact," she said. It's not just us."
Silence was a way to survive. Survivors went on to have careers as nurses, painters and teachers, and to raise families. Many didn't talk about their time at the Mohawk Institute.
Roberta Hill said she didn't tell her sisters she was sexually abused until they were in their 50s.
That's not something you talk at the kitchen table," she said.
But things started change. A historic class-action lawsuit got more survivors talking.
You realize you're not alone," she said.
But the healing journey is neither swift nor linear, and is ongoing.
I'm not afraid of the memories anymore. I've managed to get through them ... that's what you need to do," said Blanche Hill-Easton, who was at the Mohawk Institute from 1943 to 1946. I always say, our people need to thrive, not just survive. And that is my motto."
Director Howe initially set out to tell the story of Hill-Easton, who returned to school in her 80s to complete a Mohawk language degree. From there, she was introduced to survivors from Six Nations to Sarnia to Sault Ste. Marie. They told her about their plans to build a memorial park, and the story evolved from there.
The story led the way," she said. While I'm listed as director, this story directed me."
A place of gatheringThe creation of the Mohawk Village Memorial Park, a five-acre expanse dedicated to all the children that attended the institute in its 140-year history, is part of the healing journey.
Nature is healing," said survivor Dawn Hill.
She said they hope it will be a place of gathering we didn't have before" with an area for ceremonies, language and education.
This is now going to be everything they tried to take away," she said.
Proceeds from Saturday's viewing - $2,000 - were given to survivors to support the project.
A pavillon was built in 2019 and a circle garden in 2020. When completed, the park is expected to having walking paths, a pond, play structures for kids and a fire pit that they hope to use in the future for events.
There's still lots of things to be done," Dawn said. We'd like to see it done before we all kick the bucket."
Kate McCullough is an education reporter at The Spectator. kmccullough@thespec.com