Laws of Matriarch

Content Warning: My memories are few, and those that linger are often weighed down by heaviness. The forest was my sanctuary in those lonely times. After the cannery and fishing seasons wrapped up, Cassiar felt deserted. Families would gather their belongings and head to Prince Rupert or return to the reserves. I would find solace among the trees, sometimes for hours on end. Occasionally, I’d glance back at our house, hoping to see someone return. There were moments of luck when I’d spot a familiar face, either a neighbor or a family member. But too often, my parents would stumble back home, intoxicated and embroiled in arguments. My father's rage would erupt, and my mother would bear the brunt of his violence. I remember one instance when my mom returned sober, perhaps delayed from work. We visited a neighbor’s house, where she had a beer. My heart sank when I heard footsteps signaling my dad's arrival. Mom instructed me to tell him we were next door. I entered to fin...

WARNING: Potentially Disturbing Content As a Gitxsan woman, I carry the weight of my childhood trauma, and I know I’m not alone in this. Although I’ve faced many challenges, I’ve also found moments of peace and happiness that have helped me survive. I lived with my biological parents until I was 10 years old, which is not the norm for Indigenous children, then or now. By the time I was 5, most kids around me were being taken away to Indian Residential Schools (IRS). I was the first in my family for generations to stay home.  Think about that for a moment. A child should never have to feel the pain of being torn away from their parents. While sometimes separation is unavoidable, and that’s tragic, it’s not the same as what Indigenous people have endured. The genocide of our people in Canada and the USA is a deep, painful reality that can’t be compared to a simple separation. It breaks my heart for the children who are affected. I carry the scars of this trauma with me. I have PTSD a...

Okay, I’ve had my grandson in my custody under Section 54.3 for 9 months now, and he’s currently 2 years and 9 months old. For those 9 months, he has been without medical coverage because the ministry has neglected to prioritize getting everything in place for his medical coverage before he was released from VACFSS custody. I spoke with Sasha about this issue and submitted the court order to Indian Affairs two months ago, but I still haven’t heard back. Once Angel is registered for Indian Status, I can order his status card, and once I receive that card, he will finally be covered under MSP. Since getting the signed court order two months ago, my grandson has been covered under my work plan with Blue Cross. However, I know that most Aboriginal people don’t have employment, which means many Indigenous children go without medical coverage for far too long. Below is the latest string of emails regarding the progress of Angel’s Indian Status registration: --- Hi, Maybe you can speak with ...

The Presumption of Risk: A Gitxsan Grandmother’s Perspective As a Gitxsan grandmother, I want to address a troubling issue that continues to affect our families and our children—the presumption of risk that comes with being an Indigenous person in Canada. This presumption is rooted in systemic racism, creating barriers that keep our children from being with their families. My grandson is now 23 months old, and I've been navigating the CFCSA process with VACFSS since he was born. Recently, I spoke with Acting Deputy Director Cindy G. about the ongoing issues we face, particularly regarding medical coverage and the removal of our children. It’s heartbreaking to see how the system operates. When I received guardianship under Section 54.01 in June 2017, my grandson’s medical and dental coverage was cut off on the same day. This practice profoundly affects many Aboriginal families. We are left to question why the government prioritizes the removal of our children instead of supporting u...

Last night, I received a call from my daughter around 10 PM, sharing the news that she had a baby. At first, I felt a wave of sadness wash over me at the thought of another child entering this cruel and racist world. I also wondered if this was real or if my daughter was in a bad place with drugs. I rushed to see her at Grace Women’s Hospital. She told me she had a baby girl, but I was taken aback because I didn’t even know she was pregnant; usually, she keeps me informed. When I arrived at the hospital, everything seemed normal, and they let me see my daughter without any issues—no security stopping me, just a straightforward visit. This was unusual, as I usually have to go through security in the maternity ward. My granddaughter was born premature, and I ask you to please keep her in your prayers. I don’t even know her name yet, or if she will survive. It should be a happy occasion, but I can’t help but feel sadness and worry for her. I pray that God’s grace will cover her and that ...

I am writing to share my experience of having my grandson in the care of MCFD. I hope my story provides some insight and helps you understand the process better. As you may know, my grandson has been apprehended by the ministry and is currently in temporary foster care. This is a reality that many Aboriginal children face, and it’s a painful experience for families like mine. I currently have my older grandson living with me under MCFD coverage, labeled as "child in home of a relative." I am subject to random home checks and Criminal Record Checks every few years, the last one being about seven months ago. Despite this arrangement, every child must go through the same "Out of Care Options Assessment." Unfortunately, this assessment can take a long time—anywhere from six months to two years—depending on the availability of the social worker. Right now, the social worker assigned to me has 71 files to manage. I met with my new social worker, Betty C., on November 19,...