Having just come through a day of Remembrance, I am thinking about remembering, specifically remembering those who accept(ed) the challenge to build a stronger and equitable society, to honour and speak for those who cannot do so for themselves. There are giants who walk among us who do their work with little notice from us, who step softly and whose voice, though certain, does not shout but instead urges and reminds and explains. We have lost one such giant; we have lost Murray Sinclair. It was my hope he would live forever so that we would learn from his example, heed his wisdom, and eventually find ourselves on firm and fair ground. I have no doubt his past work has paved the way for others to follow, to continue his work. But oh, how we need his gentle and soothing voice, his sharp and fair mind, his clear view of right and his deep understanding of history.
I am reading Mr. Sinclair’s recent book, “Who We Are”. I read it slowly as he shares the story of his beginning and how he came to do the work he has done. It can’t have been easy to get his thoughts down as his health failed. He persevered, as he so often has, his resilience and strength carrying him through the heartbreaking truth he was witness to as Chair of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (2009-2015). His resume is thick, but I wonder what he would most want to be remembered for.
I listen to his voice on the audiobook, the hardcover open on my lap so I can both hear and see his words. I am certain he would want to be remembered for many things, but he would want us to remember his older brother Richard who guided and protected him and was murdered in 1966.
Perhaps Sinclair’s greatest strength was being curious. He was never afraid to ask the big questions, questions that got him in difficulty with those who had power over him. It was his curiosity that made him hungry for knowledge, to understand the past and how it shaped his life and the life of his family and friends. Einstein told us: “I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious,” believing one couldn’t learn or solve problems without being curious. Mr. Sinclair upholds that theory.
In 1968 at the age of seventeen, Mr. Sinclair travelled to England with the International Air Cadet Exchange program and was billeted with a Welsh family. The father, David Easthope, was passionate about his Welsh roots, explaining to the young Sinclair that the English did not conquer Wales; colonial invasions by England happened repeatedly but they never conquered the Welsh, never took their sense of identity, of who they were as proud Welsh people. Easthope asked Sinclair many questions about his roots, about his traditional language and customs. Sinclair was embarrassed that he had no response, that he had no understanding of history and realized he had been taught to believe that Indigenous people no longer existed. He returned home with Easthope’s words in his mind – “find out about your ancestors, where they came from, what they stood for and what they stand for.” Murray Sinclair did just that.
Why, Sinclair wanted to know – why did he and why did Canada not know the customs of his people; why did Canada have all the land while his people had small plots called reserves; why could he not speak the language of his grandparents; why did his grandmother believe that by not teaching him about his ancestral roots she was saving his life; why and how in 1913 could his people be forced from traditional territories, from prime agricultural land along the Red River and be forced to march two hundred miles north to flood-prone swampy land to live forever; why and how was his grandfather able to resist that forcible movement and remain on his farm despite the use of armed forces; why was this removal not taught in school; why did his young mother die in an institution at age twenty-five from TB that killed thousands of his people while his non-Indigenous classmates had no such similar history; why was his serious grandmother obligated to grow up in a convent and not in her mother’s house and not bear the trait of laughter his aunts possessed; why did all his relatives, those forced into residential schools, not talk about their experiences.
These questions ignited a thirst and hunger in Sinclair to learn more about what it means to be Indigenous; awakened a fire to learn, to be proud, to find answers to his many questions, to find out what could be done about the injustice his people experience(d) or would they always live in conflict.
It was Mr. Sinclair who taught us that “to know the truth, we must begin by telling it”. He brought to our attention the 2007 United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples as a framework for reconciliation. Those countries who had most actively engaged in cultural genocide were the most resistant to this Declaration and as such, Canada was one of the last countries to adopt the UN’s Declaration in 2021.
I can’t fit everything that Murray Sinclair brought to light for us in the space of this column. He has been teacher, counsellor, friend, trailblazer for everyone who had opportunity to read his words, hear him speak, heed his example. We were better for having him. The loss of his guidance is immeasurable. Let us remember him. wendistewart@live.ca
