I Was Traumatized
We had to eat oatmeal every day. I was beaten by a horse belt. I was sexually, emotionally, and mentally abused. I was so depressed and missed my family. As a teenager, I often battled with depression and suicidal thoughts. My mom and I lived on my great-grandparent's farm on the Six Nations Reserve in Ontario, Canada. They took us to church on the wagon driven by two horses. It was fun, except on days when it was freezing cold. When I was 5 years old, my mom married my stepdad, but I stayed with my great grandparents to help them on the farm. My grandparents loved me but didn't have much time for me as they worked hard and were getting old. Around the age of 8, I accepted Jesus into my heart at a tent meeting.
When I was about 10 years old, my grandparents passed away. I went to live with my mom and stepdad. Not long after moving back home, my younger sister and I were removed by a police officer and worker from the Children’s Aid Society (CAS). We were taken to the Mohawk Residential School for native children, located in Brantford, Ontario, Canada. Someone had reported to Children’s Aid that we were living in a house with no bedrooms, which was true, but they would have been built on to the house in the spring. When we arrived at the institute, we were made to take a bath, our hair was cut short, and we were given uniforms to wear and strict rules to follow. We slept in a dorm shared by other native girls. Throughout the week, we went to school in a building next door to our living quarters. We had to eat oatmeal every day, so people nicknamed it “The Mush Hole.” On Sundays, we got to eat cornflakes and had to go to Mohawk Chapel, which was located just down the street. They separated my sister and I.
I didn't get to see her very often, only during meal time, in the play
room, and playing outside after school. I was beaten with a horse belt by the House Mother for sitting on the emergency stairs. I was sitting there to be alone to cry because the House Mother told me that my baby sister had died and my parents were coming the next day to take my sister and I to her funeral. I was sexually, emotionally, and mentally abused in the Mohawk Institute. I was depressed and missed my family so much that I failed grade 5. My Mom went to anyone in our Native Community who would listen to help her fight to get us out of the school. After a year and half, our parents were allowed to take us out of there. I was so happy the day we left the Residential School. However, as a teenager I often battled with depression and suicidal thoughts. I also rebelled against all authority, which resulted in me getting a lot of beatings for talking back.
Around age 13 or 14, my family moved to Fort Erie, where I started high school. By grade 10, I quit. I was still so traumatized from the Residential School, not realizing that God still loved me and had a great plan for my life. I would spend summer holidays with my great aunt and great uncle in Buffalo. My great aunt would take me to church, send me to camp, and make my clothes. I saw God’s love through her. She would tell me how much God loved me, that she was praying for me, and that God wanted to heal me if I would allow Him. I started to see how my life would end up living on assistance without an education, so I asked my Mom if I could join Job Corps to an all- girls Center in the U.S. When I was 17 years old, I went to Job Corps in Mckinney, Texas for one and a half years, getting my high school diploma and Office Clerk Certificate. I moved back home to Canada to settle down, get married, and have children. After 14 years of mental, emotional, and physical abuse, the marriage ended. Five years into the abuse, I had surrendered my life totally to the Lord. I was able to come out stronger from it with God’s grace, His healing, and my friends.
It has been a life long journey of hope, healing and even setbacks, but I see how faithful, forgiving, and merciful Creator God has been toward me, no matter how many mistakes I’ve made. Through His great Love and forgiveness toward me, I was able to forgive the people at the residential school and others who abused me. By the amazing grace of almighty God, I was able to work in the same room where I slept at the
institute. Even though the memories still exist, the hurt and pain are not in my heart anymore.
I pray for my Native people and anyone else to find healing, hope, and forgiveness through God’s great love and grace for them. It is so good to be free! Thank you, Jesus!