I came into his family as a Sixties Scoop survivor. I'm thankful my dad sheltered me from harm and hatred
I miss my father who never stayed silent in times of need
This story was originally published on June 16, 2023.
This Poetry piece is by Carol Rose GoldenEagle, a Cree and Dene artist who lives in Regina Beach, Sask. She was appointed Saskatchewan's Poet Laureate in 2021.
I am a child of the Sixties Scoop and was placed in the family of Joe Adams from Sedley, Sask., as a foster child.
He never treated me like someone who didn't belong. I was his daughter.
He was the one who led by example, teaching me a great work ethic and instilling determination to overcome the odds.
I miss my old dad. He died several years ago, doing what he loved best. He had a stroke while gardening.
I wrote this poem Qu'Appelle about how he was always in my corner.
Qu'Appelle
by Carol Rose GoldenEagle
Racist uncle knocks at the screen door
it is made of old wood that used to be part of a barn
torn down years ago after being damaged by wicked winds
seemingly ever present on the plains
Daddy answers
Hey what's up? Just put on a pot
come on in
the discussion with his older brother
amicable for a bit
gas prices are up
sure could use some rain already
did you know you can make soup from rhubarb?
But small talk comes to an abrupt end when racist uncle feels entitled
to foolishly venture towards the unspoken
the off-limits
the forbidden
Not still thinking about adopting that schwartze I hope?
Don't call her that
No, I'm serious you are only asking for trouble.
I am warning you drop it
Be reasonable, I know she is like a pet to you but really.
She is my daughter you arse
She's an Indian.
That doesn't matter
What the hell? There is no need for you to take her in like this. For Christ sake even her own
mother got rid of her.
I am warning you. Stop talking. Apologize for that. This is my daughter you are saying these
things about
I'm not apologizing for anything. Shit! What's wrong with you? Defending a goddamn little
Indian for Christ sakes?
Eavesdropping
this exchange lasts less than one minute
but stays with me a lifetime
and in my young life
I never saw anyone so upset they were shaking
both of them for differing reasons
Okay that is it. If you cannot say anything nice then get the hell out of my house and don't
come back until you can apologize!
With a slam of fists atop a round formica table
cold coffee splashing to mark the spot
mark the day
racist uncle wears a look of shock
defeated
and slowly turns to walk out the old wooden door
he never visits our house again
It is the first of many times I remember
Daddy stepping in
deflecting a hit
sheltering me from the harm and the hatred
I never got a chance to say
thank you
for carrying me on your shoulders
for lifting me out of those battles
the raging war where I never enlisted
but found myself living
I also thank Creator for showing me
love is colour blind
so was Daddy
ever my hero
never remaining silent
in times of need
I miss him
Rest in peace
winged warrior
Support is available for anyone affected by their experience at residential schools or by the latest reports.
A national Indian Residential School Crisis Line has been set up to provide support for survivors and those affected. People can access emotional and crisis referral services by calling the 24-hour national crisis line: 1-866-925-4419.
Mental health counselling and crisis support is also available 24 hours a day, seven days a week through the Hope for Wellness hotline at 1-855-242-3310 or by online chat at www.hopeforwellness.ca.
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