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Listening and Learning | Members of Yorkville’s ISAC Share Their Reflections on Truth and Reconciliation

September 30 marks the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation – a day to honour First Nations, Inuit and Métis children who never returned home from residential schools, the Survivors who did, and the families and communities who carry that history forward.

This is a day for reflection, but more than that, it’s a day for listening. At Yorkville University, we’re committed to learning from the Indigenous voices in our community, and to carrying that learning with us well beyond this one day.

To that end, we invited members of our Indigenous Students Advisory Council (ISAC) to share a little about themselves and their reflections on truth and reconciliation, and what this day means to them. We’re grateful to them for the generosity and honesty in their answers.

Here’s what they had to say:

Tina Adams

Master of Arts in Counselling Psychology (MACP)

For me, the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation represents acknowledgment, specifically, acknowledging the individual stories of Indigenous children and youth who suffered in residential schools. My grandmother was a survivor, and I did not find out until I was an adult as it was never spoken about.

After eighteen years as an educator in both public and private school settings, I have witnessed a meaningful shift in how school communities engage with the learning this day calls for. One example is Orange Shirt Day, which is officially recognized on September 30th but is now often recognized on a different weekday by schools and organizations that are closed for the national holiday, so that staff and students do not miss out on participation.

Tina Adams

Many people may not know where Orange Shirt Day began, and I feel compelled to share both the story and my personal connection to it. On September 8th, 2018, at the Mosaic bookstore in Kelowna, BC, I had the honour of meeting Phyllis Webstad, author of Phyllis’ Orange Shirt. I purchased five copies, one for my mom, my sister, two principals I deeply respect, and one for myself. Phyllis generously signed each book and briefly shared how the orange shirt her grandmother gave her was taken away when she arrived at a residential school. Meeting her in person and hearing her story moved me in a way I had never experienced. Moments like that remind me why stories matter, and why the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation holds such significance for me. 

As a graduate student at Yorkville University, I have observed meaningful efforts to engage and support Indigenous learners. Yorkville’s commitment is evident through the Indigenous Students Advisory Council, which amplifies the voices and experiences of Indigenous students within the academic community. 

The university also invites Indigenous leaders from across regions to share their knowledge through cultural programming, offered in both online and in‑person formats to ensure accessibility and inclusion. Perhaps most notably, Yorkville honours Indigenous learners during the graduation ceremony in ways that are individualized and culturally meaningful, recognizing each graduate’s accomplishments with intention and respect.

Collectively, these initiatives reflect Yorkville’s commitment to Reconciliation in action and is a great model for other universities to follow.

Natasha Grant

Master of Arts in Counselling Psychology (MACP)

As an Anishinaabe student, the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation is a day to honour and remember the Indigenous children who suffered and died within the residential school system, as well as the survivors, families, and communities who continue to live with impact of colonization, culture loss, and pain today. Orange Shirt Day has come to symbolize the truth of what happened and the importance of ensuring those children are never forgotten.

At the same time, I see this day as a call to accountability. The work of reconciliation is not finished. I often reflect on the fact that Canada initially opposed the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP), which the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada later identified as the framework for reconciliation. Reconciliation requires more than remembering the past. It requires action in the present and a commitment to building a different future.

I wish more people understood that this day is not simply about learning a piece of Canadian history. It is about recognizing that the legacy of residential schools continues to affect Indigenous families and communities today.

I also wish more people knew about the 94 Calls to Action from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada. Many Canadians know they exist, but few could name one or explain how they apply to their own lives. Reconciliation is not only a responsibility for governments. The Calls to Action challenge educators, healthcare professionals, journalists, businesses, universities, and ordinary citizens to take part in this work. My hope is that people move beyond awareness and begin asking themselves what role they can play in meaningful change.

My message would be this: let September 30 be the beginning of your engagement, not the end of it.

Wear an orange shirt. Attend an event. Learn the history. But don’t stop there. Read the 94 Calls to Action. Learn about treaties. Learn about the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) and the principle of Free, Prior and Informed Consent. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada identified UNDRIP as the framework for reconciliation, yet many of its principles continue to be debated and tested in practice today.

As discussions continue around pipelines, resource extraction, and environmental stewardship, I often reflect on whether Indigenous communities are truly being included as full partners in decisions that affect their lands and futures. To me, reconciliation means respecting Indigenous rights not only in our words, but in our actions. It means being accountable for the decisions being made today, not just acknowledging the harms of the past. Ask yourself what reconciliation looks like in your profession, your community, and your daily life?

Reconciliation cannot be accomplished in a single day each year. It is a practice. Imagine if every Canadian committed to one Call to Action and took one concrete step toward it. The impact would be transformative.

The children we honour on September 30 deserve more than remembrance alone. They deserve a country willing to act on the truth.

Alice Maracle

Master of Business Administration (MBA)

For me, the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation is about acknowledging the past honestly so that healing and meaningful change can happen. We owe Survivors the respect of listening to them, learning from their experiences, and recognizing that their truths are part of Canada’s history.

I also think about my own family. My parents always encouraged my sisters and me to pursue education because they saw it as a form of empowerment and opportunity. That has stayed with me throughout my own academic journey. I completed my bachelor’s degree and am now pursuing my MBA, and I will be the first person in my family to earn a master’s degree. For me, that achievement is personal, but it also reflects what education can represent when Indigenous students are supported in pursuing it on their own terms.

Universities have an important responsibility as educational institutions. They should create space and time for Survivors to share their truths, acknowledge the intergenerational harm caused by residential schools, and ensure those histories are understood.

They also have a responsibility to look at how Indigenous students experience post-secondary education today. Reconciliation should include creating environments where Indigenous students feel supported, respected, and safe while pursuing their education. That means listening to Indigenous students and communities, reflecting that learning in institutional practices, and continuing to improve the supports and spaces available to Indigenous learners.

What gives me hope is seeing more Indigenous people pursuing education and entering spaces where decisions are made. Education can be a powerful form of empowerment when Indigenous students are able to pursue it in environments that recognize their identities, experiences, and communities.

I also find hope in the willingness to have more honest conversations about the past. Reconciliation cannot happen without truth. When Survivors are given the respect of being heard, and when institutions and individuals are willing to listen and learn from those truths, it creates the possibility for meaningful change for future generations.

Keisha Price-Pierro

Bachelor of Business Administration

As a Mi’kmaw woman from Wagmatcook First Nation, the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation is more than a day of remembrance. It is a day to honour the strength of our ancestors, acknowledge the pain that our communities have carried for generations, and recognize the responsibility we all share in creating a different future.

Growing up both on and off reserve, I experienced the beauty of my culture, but I also experienced the distance that can exist between Indigenous people and their own language and traditions. Like many Indigenous people, I grew up without the opportunity to become fluent in my ancestral language. Today, as I continue my journey of learning Mi’kmaq, I am beginning to understand that reclaiming our language is about so much more than learning words. It is about reclaiming our identity, our connection to our ancestors, and the parts of ourselves that generations before us were denied the opportunity to freely express.

As a mother of two, this day carries an even deeper meaning. I want my children to grow up knowing who they are, where they come from, and that their culture is something to celebrate, never something to hide. I want them to hear our language spoken in our home and understand that being Mi’kmaw is a source of strength and belonging.

For me, reconciliation is not simply about remembering what happened in the past. It is about ensuring that the pain of previous generations does not define the possibilities of future generations. It is about honouring those who came before us by creating a world where our children can grow up proud of everything they are.

Reconciliation cannot be something we acknowledge for one day and forget for the remaining 364 days of the year. It must be reflected in our everyday actions, the conversations we are willing to have, and the opportunities we create for Indigenous voices to be heard.

I believe reconciliation begins with a willingness to listen, even when the truth is uncomfortable. It means taking the initiative to learn about the history of residential schools, the lasting effects of intergenerational trauma, and the challenges Indigenous communities continue to face. But it also means recognizing that our people are so much more than the hardships we have endured. We are resilient, knowledgeable, innovative, and deeply connected to our cultures, languages, and communities.

One of the most meaningful ways I practise reconciliation in my own life is through language revitalization. Every time I learn a new Mi’kmaq word, practise speaking with my mentor, or introduce a phrase to my children, I am contributing to something much greater than myself. I am helping ensure that our language continues to live through future generations.

I encourage people to move beyond simply acknowledging Indigenous culture and begin actively supporting it. Attend Indigenous-led events, learn about the Nations whose traditional territories you live and work on, support Indigenous businesses, and create space for Indigenous perspectives in education and the workplace.

Most importantly, recognize that reconciliation is not solely the responsibility of Indigenous peoples. We cannot be expected to carry the weight of healing while also educating everyone around us.

True reconciliation requires shared responsibility, meaningful relationships, and a commitment to turning good intentions into lasting change.

What gives me hope is seeing our people reclaim the very things that previous generations were denied.

I see hope in our Elders who continue to share their knowledge, in the young people who are reconnecting with their identities, and in the parents who are determined to raise their children with a stronger connection to their culture than they themselves had growing up.

My own journey of learning Mi’kmaq has shown me that it is never too late to reconnect with who you are. There was a time when speaking our language felt intimidating because I worried about making mistakes or mispronouncing words. Today, I understand that every attempt to speak our language is an act of courage, connection, and cultural preservation.

One of the most beautiful parts of this journey has been sharing what I learn with my children. When I introduce a new Mi’kmaq word into our everyday conversations and hear them repeat it, I am reminded that language revitalization does not always begin with grand gestures. Sometimes, it begins with a mother teaching her children a single word at the kitchen table.

Those small moments give me hope because they represent something powerful: a future where our children do not have to search for the pieces of their identity that previous generations were forced to leave behind.

I also find hope in seeing more Indigenous people pursue education, leadership, and careers where they can influence the decisions that affect our communities. As a Mi’kmaw woman pursuing my own education and professional goals, I want our younger generations to recognize that their voices belong in every room where decisions are made.

Reconciliation gives me hope when it moves beyond words and creates opportunities for Indigenous people to thrive without having to leave their identities behind.

I believe the future of reconciliation lives in our children, our languages, our communities, and the courage of those who continue to create change, even when that change begins with something small.

If I could leave readers with one message, it would be this: Reconciliation is not about changing the past. It is about taking responsibility for the future we are creating together.

Our ancestors endured unimaginable hardships, yet their strength continues to live within us. Every time we speak our languages, share our teachings, celebrate our identities, and create opportunities for the next generation, we honour the sacrifices of those who came before us.

To my fellow Indigenous people who are reconnecting with their cultures, I want you to know that you are not too late. You do not need to speak your language fluently to begin learning. You do not need to know every teaching to begin reconnecting. Your journey is valid, and every small step you take matters.

To non-Indigenous readers, I encourage you to remember that reconciliation does not end when you take off your orange shirt. Carry what you have learned into your homes, classrooms, workplaces, and communities. Listen to Indigenous voices, challenge discrimination when you encounter it, and recognize that meaningful change requires more than good intentions.

And to the younger generations, especially our Indigenous children, I hope you grow up in a world where you never feel that you must choose between your culture and your dreams.

I want my children to know that their language is beautiful, their identity is powerful, and their voices have the ability to create change.

Our ancestors fought for our right to exist as who we are. Our responsibility is to ensure that our children never have to fight for that same right again.

Reconciliation begins with truth, grows through understanding, and becomes meaningful through action. Let us make sure that the future we leave behind reflects the lessons we have promised never to forget.

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