By Flora Lassalle
Interview with Alice Jerome
Alice Jerome is Algonquin. She spent eight years at the Saint-Marc-de-Figuery Indian Residential School (in Abitibi), an episode that deeply impacted her life. While many try to forget, Alice speaks out, sublimating her suffering through art and mutual support.
“Residential school was a defining moment in my life. After experiencing it, I had to choose whether it should be destructive or productive. I chose the second option, even though it involved difficult moments.”
For eight years, Alice spent ten months a year at an Indian Residential School, from September to June. « By the time August rolled around, I was already thinking about it with horror. »
During this period, she didn’t go home or see her parents: « A separation always hurts. When you’re young, you don’t really understand it, but for my parents, it was very difficult. There were three of us children, and the residential schools destroyed my family even though we had no problems. »
In the residential schools, the religious leaders had only one motto: « kill the Indian in every child. » Everything was done to denigrate their culture and traditions. Alice remembers: « Nothing was explained to us; we had to do things, or we would be punished. Everything was done by force; we always lived in fear of punishment. Our hair was regularly cut; everyone had the same hairstyle. Even then, the religious leaders showed no kindness. It was as if they were deliberately hurting us. »
« Everyday things, like brushing our teeth, I never enjoyed doing because the religious leaders were always checking to see if we had done it properly. We were never sure of ourselves. And nothing was within our reach because we weren’t trusted. Everything we needed was locked away in cupboards we couldn’t access. »
Pain: A Driving Force for Change
Alice pauses for a moment: « I wonder if I had a hairbrush… no, I don’t think I did. A little girl who doesn’t even have her own hairbrush… That’s how much privacy we lacked! »
In these schools, children were not allowed to form attachments. « I was separated from my brother and sister; the religious authorities made sure we had no ties to anyone. They separated families, boys from girls, and children of different ages. They did everything they could to break emotional and family ties. They succeeded. I no longer have any contact with my brother. »
Alice’s parents lived about twenty kilometers from the boarding school in the town of Amos, but they never came to visit them. Alice understands this because, according to her, the religious leaders were very hypocritical. Welcoming when the parents were there, they listened to every conversation and became violent again the second the family walked through the door to leave.
Day after day, these boarding schools taught children to denigrate their identity. Their culture was denigrated by imposing the most pompous aspects of Western culture on them. They prayed on their knees every day, but love, art, and spirituality were prohibited. The children weren’t even allowed to draw.
« Creativity is extinguished because it allows us to find solutions. They wanted us to be helpless, sad, and dependent. If I have so many resources today, it’s because I’m resilient. »
Yet, Alice carries a deep well of trauma within her. As she herself says: « I don’t feel safe, I’m still afraid, and I protect myself a lot, even to this day. I often wonder, ‘What will people think of me?’ I’m afraid to move forward, afraid of how others perceive my differences. »
The class photos from these residential schools all bear witness to this: « No child ever smiles. »
« In my circle, few people are able to talk about residential schools. I don’t know why. Maybe they’re not ready to face the pain… it’s like going into surgery. »
Taking a Step Back
After residential school, her parents insisted that she finish high school in Amos. At 18, Alice left home. « I wanted to get away from everything that was going on. My parents drank a lot and there was too much violence. » She went to join her sister, who worked in a factory in the United States. « I left, but I never forgot my culture. Despite the resources used in residential schools, the Native identity is invincible, because it is an inherent part of who we are. » To kill it is to kill the body it inhabits.
« When I came back from the United States in 1980, I returned to my community. I worked as a drug addiction counselor. Life’s ups and downs pushed me to get involved in various assistance and support programs. I wanted to advocate for the most disadvantaged. »
This is how Alice began a long career in social intervention. She has served as community health director at a Native Friendship Centre, director of social services, health director, and director at the Wanaki Center, a center specializing in drug and alcohol problems, among other things.
« I have been Grand Chief since July 2012, and as such, I participate in the Algonquin Nation Tribal Council. Before that, I served a four-year term as chief. In 2007, I took a sabbatical. It is thanks to my professional experience that I have been able to be so involved in my community. »
Algonquin Values
Helping others allows Alice to move forward and reconcile Algonquins with their culture. Indeed, residential schools didn’t kill the little Indigenous person inside: they resurrected it. « When I speak Algonquin, I don’t need to think, because it comes from the heart. »
Teaching French still allows her to free herself from her pain and share it with as many people as possible: « To stay sane, I write poems in which I describe my broken heart, the kidnapping. I also make teepee lampshades out of tissue paper and paint. All of this is non-profit. I do it for myself. I also participate in a lot of exchanges, because it encourages me to see that I’m not the only one who is thriving. Sharing helps me a lot. »
Liberation through art, through mutual aid, is what comforts Alice. She draws positive lessons from the horrors she experienced. Her testimony shows that the values of Algonquin culture have helped her greatly.
“Each nation contributes to society. We must accept them all. Even in residential school, I was always convinced that I had something unique. I always shared, I always helped others. And, above all, I still don’t understand destruction. If you respect nature, you respect yourself. I believe in human strength, in the power of unity. We come together because we need each other. Afterwards, it’s up to a people to decide whether they use this strength to build or to destroy. First Nations people chose to build themselves up because this idea is very close to their values. For example, someone’s education is always done by a group. Setting an example is something everyone must do. A mistake is harmful to you, but also to those who see you as a role model.”
A word to the wise…
Alice continually expresses the importance of speech and memory. That’s why when I asked her for an interview, she readily accepted. But her enthusiasm exploded when I suggested, through Reflet de Société, that she share her opinion about the Canadian government: « If I had a message for the government, it would be this: Why do you want to keep First Nations poor? The government likes to maintain apartheid and never uses the right words to describe its actions against us. It ignores us by using the Indian Act, it uses subsidies to blackmail and threaten us. It tries to make us docile Indians. »
« To the Canadian who still doesn’t know us, nor our history, I would advise them to learn about their neighbors. When you go sightseeing, you learn about the people who inhabit the territory you are visiting. Why not do it at home? » Because of the media, many Canadians generalize and only see us as problem alcoholics. It’s absurd! »
« I want justice to be done. I want justice that’s specific to us, because today, the balance is unbalanced. I dream of equality every day. I have a voice, I’m going to use it because we’re home. I was taken from my family, and no one cared about me. The system ensures that Indigenous people are ignored. Yet, we have a lot to say because we are the first on this earth. The country’s resources belong to us. The government and private companies plunder these resources and destroy nature. They are blinded by money. How can you be happy to be rich when your neighbor is poor? They think without thinking; their thoughts are futile. Nature needs to reproduce, and an Indigenous person thinks a lot based on that. You don’t need to go to school to realize that! »
- Photos of Native Residential Schools: Library and Archives Canada.
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