The relationship between Indigenous Peoples and the Catholic Church is one fraught with historic pain and injustice. Hundreds of years of systemic oppression and cultural erasure from colonial institutions have taken its toll, and today, it remains one of the more difficult bridges to rebuild in the spirit of reconciliation.
Navigating mainstream health and social service systems can be an experience marked by trauma and fear for many Indigenous Peoples. The systemic impacts of colonization continue to shape how this group inherently mistrust programs that have historically been biased against them.
Spiritual well-being for Indigenous Peoples is deeply rooted in the land and community connections. Yet, healthcare spaces often lack dedicated areas to support cultural and spiritual practices such as smudging and access to traditional foods and medicines.
The path to physical and mental wellness for Indigenous Peoples is one that has long been fractured. This is especially true for Niitsitapi community members in and around Lethbridge, Alberta living without shelter or struggling with addictions.
Indigenous Peoples experience kidney disease at rates up to four times higher than the general population of Canada. And yet, they are often left behind by medical systems that traditionally lack supports grounded in Indigenous ways of knowing. The physical demands of treatment are only part of their journey, where emotional, spiritual, and social support is needed to ensure holistic health and healing.
Healthcare institutions deal with people at their most vulnerable. This is especially true of palliative and end-of-life care facilities responsible for safely guiding individuals onto their next spiritual journey while providing support for families preparing for the loss of a loved one.
For Indigenous Peoples seeking critical end-of-life care, accessing healing practices that reflect Indigenous traditions, knowledge and culture is not only a necessity, but a moral right.
The oldest residential school in Canada opened its doors in 1831, and for the next 139 years saw countless Indigenous children walk through its doors. Many of those children would never leave. Today, their communities and families continue to search for answers to what happened within the walls of the Mohawk Institute Indian Residential School.
Since 1972, the Woodland Cultural Centre has remained a beacon of Indigenous resilience and creativity, standing proud and resilient against systemic cultural erasure. Despite living within the walls of the former Mohawk Institute Residential School, it has become one of Canada’s most significant Indigenous-led cultural institutions.
Trust between Indigenous Peoples and the Catholic Church is strained. Historic injustices have left a legacy of mistrust and a fear of the intentions of religious institutions. Many living today have been personally victimized by the clergy.
