Growing up Indian in a white family often meant that it was the hand of shame that often clasped my tiny brown hand.
We remember. Growing up Indian in a white family often meant that it was the hand of shame that often clasped my tiny brown hand. I was just a girl growing up in an environment of casual racism. We now know that a person’s culture protects them against this slow genocide, but that was not a part of my life. I never knew brown faces mean love, too.
There is a historical event called the Sixties Scoop, which saw thousands of Indigenous children taken from their homes and families—scooped up—and placed in foster care or adopted out to white families. I am not an official “scoopee,” but it was the fall-out from this policy that landed me into a white home.
More recently, there was a successful lawsuit against the Canadian government from the scoop survivors. We receive reparations for our cultural losses and have the opportunity to share our stories in the archives of Canadian history.
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