About This Story
Recent events prompted me to write this poem in memory of the children — thousands of them — who were interred in undocumented and unmarked graves between the 1860s and 1990s. This happened not in developing countries, but in Canada and the United States.
Young indigenous children were ripped from their families and forced to relinquish their culture in residential schools run by governments and churches. Many of the students were sexually abused, starved, and otherwise mistreated. According to National Geographic, the U.S. Bureau of Indian Education still operates four off-reservation boarding schools.
During recent months, ground-penetrating radar detected more than 1,000 bodies, and experts say the continuing search could result in a count that surpasses 25,000.
That’s 25,000 young lives.
Lost.
Forever.
Society must do better than this.
—
The Feather
A raven’s feather glides and dances
in the whispering wind.
It soars; it bows before
watchers in darkening clouds –
watchers with bony faces
and melancholy eyes –
marionettes in school uniforms,
their arms straining toward families
they will never again embrace.
The angry clouds blacken,
and they shed the tears
of those nameless children
who were discarded and interred
in dead earth.
The feather of the Wise One
wrests itself from the wind,
and drifts to my feet,
drenched with the tears of the children.
And I weep.
Image © Andy Everson
In accordance with copyright conditions of Mr. Everson, I made a donation to the Orange Shirt Society.
The Writer’s Lexicon series
and additional resources on my Facebook page.
Copyright information for this image, as provided by Andy Everson:
Artist credit should be given for the design.
The image can be shared openly on social media, including using it as one’s profile pic.
I am amenable to groups and individuals using the design in a not-for-profit manner that helps increase awareness on the issue. This can include making t-shirts, patches and pins for school groups and work teams or using the design on signage to show support for Every Child Matters.
What I do ask, however, is that when the design is used, a donation should be given to a non-profit Indigenous society such as: the Orange Shirt Society, The Indian Residential School Survivors Society or Copper Legacy Indigenous Empowerment Society. When businesses are having shirts printed for staff, I think it is reasonable to request that $25-30 PER shirt be given to such charities. Use of the design must go beyond simply raising awareness and should include a component of “giving back”, as well.
ANY and ALL for-profit use of this design is NOT authorized.
I do not wish for this Every Child Matters design to be used and applied to items outside of the above approved items.
G̱ilakas’la! Andy Everson
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What a sad and beautiful poem. It brings sorrow to my heart. Thanks for sharing
Thanks, Svetlana. This is an incomprehensible tragedy. Humans killing humans. There’s no excuse for this behavior.
I’m ashamed to be Canadian. I was one of the lucky one. But the unlucky were practically on my doorstep. It is indeed despicable what was done and is still going on in much of the world. It’s hard to believe in human nature at times like this, but I think we must. Is it in our innate behaviour to be decent? Let’s teach our grandchildren so we have hope for our future.
Thanks, Joylene. Nobody can measure the anguish felt by families and friends. I hope our innate nature is decent, but some days I wonder.
Thank you for sharing.
Thanks for reading it, Joan.
Stay safe!
Beautifully expressed Kathy, for such a heinous action. When they found the first school, you knew, as we know, there will be more. Horrendous! 🙁 <3
Thanks, Debby.
It’s tragic to realize that humans are capable of such cruelty.
I love your poem.
I have no words, only tears.
Thanks, Lenny.
That’s a lovely poem in loving memory of victims of the brutal and basterdly act of kidnapping. It’s sad it’s becoming a global phenomena. All hands must be on deck!
Thanks, Clement.
Agreed about the brutality of the entire process. We must keep this issue in the public eye.
Lovely poem – poignant and sad. I’m glad this horribly shameful action is out in the open now. Like other Canadians, I was perhaps a bit smug about our country. No longer. I cannot fathom how those in charge at the time promoted and condoned these actions, then kept silent so no one would know.
And I cannot think about what these children and their parents endured without crying.
Thanks, Cat. I lived in towns with a large First Nations community, and I never knew that their kids were being taken from them. I’m ashamed to admit I’m a Canadian.
I loved this poem!
Thanks, Roxie. It was difficult to write, but the story needs to be told and retold.
Thank you for sharing. The thought that this happened is simply horrific.
Thanks, Richard.
I don’t know if you have kids, but the thought of this happening to one of mine is unbearable. Imagine the ongoing mental anguish of those who loved — and still love — these children.
I’m Canadian, and right now I’m ashamed of my country. To approve of such conduct is bad enough, but only recognize that it is morally and legally wrong now is simply disgusting.
I so agree, Tom. This happened for more than a century, and the non-indigenous public was kept in the dark. The darkness of humanity is beyond understanding.
You do not weep alone, my friend. I will never understand man’s inhumanity to man, especially when it’s visited upon children.
Thanks, Felicia.
If these were blond-haired, blue-eyed children, I think we’d see more coverage. The behavior that caused these deaths is beyond disgusting.
And I do too.
Beautiful. Touching.
Thanks, Linda.
The media needs to provide more coverage. Nobody ever told me about this when I was growing up. Michelle Good‘s Five Little Indians gives some perspective. It’s sad and moving but doesn’t provide graphic details.
Having had three sons of my own, now grown. I could weep at the though of such a tragedy. So many heads should roll…Where was the milk of human kindness?! Sincerely.
Thanks, Joy.
Yesterday after I uploaded the poem, another 160 bodies were detected. Today I have no words — just profound sadness.
This is beautiful. It made me shed a tear. Such a powerful poem. Later, when I get back from town, I will reblog it.
Thanks, Vivienne. These children deserve to have their remains treated with dignity and returned to their families.