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.

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.

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.

For generations, the people of Frog Lake First Nation in Alberta have carried their history, language, and teachings through stories that have been spoken, sung, and shared around fires and in family homes. Today, like many other Indigenous communities, that ancient and sacred knowledge is at risk of being lost forever. As many Elders age, Frog Lake’s history is disappearing with them.

The legacy of the residential school system continues to be felt by Indigenous communities across Canada. Survivors and descendants of the St. Mary’s Residential School in Mission, British Columbia have made a commitment to immortalizing their lived experiences in the book St. Mary’s: The Legacy of an Indian Residential School.

Healing begins when we pause, reflect and take responsibility for the harms that have been done to others. For generations, the wounds of the residential school system have remained unhealed and unaddressed by those who perpetrated them. This has left Indigenous Peoples disconnected and lacking access to critical support systems needed to heal.

Indigenous cultures have been preserved and passed down for generations through oral history and traditions. Storytelling is the fibre that connects us all to one another, and for many survivors of the residential school system, healing begins with storytelling. That’s why more than 15 years ago, survivors from Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in Nation in Dawson City, Yukon, came together as K’änächá (Taking Care of Ourselves) to document their memories and experiences.

There is no single action that can erase the pain felt by residential school survivors. There is no amount of time that can heal families who had a child that never returned home. Healing is a long, multifaceted process that requires empathetic listening, relationships built on trust and respect, and collaborative efforts to create strong and resilient foundations. Many Indigenous communities have turned to their sacred traditions to facilitate the process.