Reconciliation and the recovery from trauma is an ongoing process without clear end points or timelines.
Many adults today are still living the pain of the past in the present, such as Moses Totalik, who has struggled with addiction, mental health, and moving through the foster and group home systems under guardianship the vast majority of his life.
“I didn’t know I was in a system until I was at least 20,” says Totalik, who was recently successful in his application to leave yet another group home and live independently in Ontario.
He said he was brought into the foster care system at two years old when he was taken from his mother, who died last year of cirrhosis of the liver after being a lifelong addict.
Totalik still has family he sees once a year in Nunavut.
“The connection is still there, it’s just weaker,” he said.
Completely disconnected from his family and heritage at a young age, where he was once fluent in Inuktitut, Totalik mentions one group home in Alberta where he was compelled to speak only in English.
“I lost my language ... I can’t speak Inuktitut [anymore]. I don’t sound Inuk," he said. "At almost 30, it hurts me to not understand what my Elders are saying to me. Now I have to get a translator to speak for me. I spoke fluently. I had full conversations with my grandparents when I was young."
Becoming emotional, Totalik said there's one thing that really hurts.
"My grandfather told me he doesn’t recognize me when I speak,” he said.
The meaning behind that, added Totalik, is that his grandfather is speaking metaphorically and literally.
“It sounds like a judgement," he said. "That’s what I think because he meant it, and I think it brought him memories because he went to residential school. I hope he does understand [why].”
Totalik said his grandfather never shared his experiences with him.
“He’s very good at hiding his emotions,” he said.
The parallels between what his grandfather in Gjoa Haven endured and what Totalik has gone through two generations later are stark.
“It’s just like residential school,” said Totalik of the current foster care system. “They take people away. It has the same results. So I was relocated from Gjoa Haven to Ottawa [for foster care], that’s like what, 1,200 kilometres? 1,500?. I can’t imagine what happened when their kids were taken.”
For Totalik, the effects of his youth still haunt him to this day.
“I don’t know the culture anymore," he said. "I’m so used to city life that it’s like culture shock again over and over when I visit Nunavut. The problem is I don’t want to go back anymore, I don’t see any resolution to this unless they end my guardianship.”
Totalik is under court-mandated guardianship after his addiction problems led to him pleading guilty in a drunk-driving incident where he pulled over on the shoulder inebriated and then waved down help. Although he has moved on from the group homes after years of self-advocacy efforts, he is still legally a ward of the Nunavut government.
Totalik considers himself to be a “stolen child”, and calls the foster and guardianship system, for which he is now petitioning for his release "Residential School 2.0."
“They just control all aspects of my life. My finances, what I do healthcare-wise, they took my tongue away,” he said. “They took my voice away. I’m trying to reclaim my heritage. I try to talk to my grandparents regularly in my language. I’m not the best at it, but I try.”
Totalik is also also currently undergoing therapy after being diagnosed with PTSD.
Because of what he said he went through during his childhood, there's a disconnection from his heritage that has fractured his understanding of reconciliation history and efforts to overcome generational trauma, a question that Totalik has no answer for.
“I don’t celebrate Canada Day,” he said. “It’s the trauma after reading what happened. The images.”
If there's something that governments can improve on, especially when it comes to foster care, Totalik suggests more listening to those affected.
“Listen to the children,” he asks of policymakers. “Listen to the people. I want them to learn about what it’s like. I guess what I’m trying to say is I want them to see my perspective. Continue fighting for what you love, and you’ll get there.”
