Up Ghost River: A Chief's Journey Through the Turbulent Waters of Native History

by Edmund Metatawabin, Alexandra Shimo

A powerful, raw yet eloquent memoir from a residential school survivor and former First Nations Chief, Up Ghost River is a necessary step toward our collective healing.
 
In the 1950s, 7-year-old Edmund Metatawabin was separated from his family and placed in one of Canada’s worst residential schools. St. Anne’s, in north­ern Ontario, is an institution now notorious for the range of punishments that staff and teachers inflicted on students. Even as Metatawabin built the trappings of a successful life—wife, kids, career—he was tormented by horrific memories. Fuelled by alcohol, the trauma from his past caught up with him, and his family and work lives imploded.
 
In seeking healing, Metatawabin travelled to southern Alberta. There he learned from elders, par­ticipated in native cultural training workshops that emphasize the holistic approach to personhood at the heart of Cree culture, and finally faced his alcoholism and PTSD. Metatawabin has since worked tirelessly to expose the wrongdoings of St. Anne’s, culminating in a recent court case demanding that the school records be released to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
 
Now Metatawabin’s mission is to help the next generation of residential school survivors. His story is part of the indigenous resurgence that is happening across Canada and after years of oppression, he and others are healing themselves by rediscovering their culture and sharing their knowledge.
 
Coming full circle, Metatawabin’s haunting and brave narrative offers profound lessons on the impor­tance of bearing witness, and the ability to become whole once again.

Genres: Nonfiction, Indigenous, History, Memoir, Canada, Biography, Race

352 pages, Hardcover

First published August 26, 2014

Reviews

[Allison · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's so shameful. I'm so sorry to all my native neighbours. I wish I could just fix everything. All of it.

This book ends with a "What you can do" section, but that falls short, at least for me. Sadly, there are no direct or clear answers to any of this mess, as much as I or anyone wishes there were. We're talking about decades of horrors -- how to fix that now?? I wish we all knew.

This book is a strong chronicle, and I'm thankful to Edmund Metatawabin for having written it. It can't have been easy. But it's a required document for Canada's bookshelf, and should be placed front and centre. We need to own up to the reality that faces our native population, and make lifting up their lives a national priority. I felt this before, and I feel it even more now that I've read this book.

[Natasha Penney · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Kill the Indian, save the child." Those haunting words resonate through this terribly difficult memoir by Edmund Metatawabin detailing his abuse at St. Anne's Residential School, and his subsequent traumas and healing efforts so he could move past the school's legacy of cultural genocide, abuse, and loss of self-identity. Repeated rape at the hands of an older man who had become a friend and mentor compounded his issues. It's a heart-breaking read, and my emotions ran a wide gamut as the story unfolded from absolute horror at the treatment children received while in the care of "Christian" educators; to anger at the Indian Act for completely disenfranchising First Nations, and making them act as beggars on land they owned long before there was a Crown; incredible sadness at the harrowing nature of Metatawabin's recovery and what it cost him; to pride when he righted his life, and started his mission to ensure victims of abuse at residential schools are heard, and the younger generation is familiar with the Seven Sacred Teachings so they can follow the Creee's Red Road more easily. This book also made me feel something few Canadian books ever have - I'm ashamed of my government. I'm ashamed if the entrenchment of a system that treats First Nations individuals as less than, and subjects them to government oversight for even the most basic of decisions. I'm ashamed I didn't realize the Indian Act has still not been abolished - or perhaps more realistically, even revamped to allow First Nations to make the most of their natural resources, resourcefulness and traditional way of life that would allow them to fare better without the "cultural schizophrenia" they now experience when they leave their reserves seeking freedom, betterment and opportunities most Canadians take for granted.

It's a difficult read, but it's a necessary read. I believe Metatawbin did an incredible service to Canadians who were unaware of the continuation of systemic racism legalized by the Indian Act. He found a way to turn a horrific set of circumstances into a call to action. I believe that's what this book is - a call to action for white Canadians to educate themselves and require better of successive governments who clearly took the easy way out in dealing with First Nations. It may also be time to end the moral superiority card Canadians are so fond of playing as we watch race relations disintegrate south of the border and escalating tensions elsewhere. We have no room to judge while we're still standing idly by (no pun intended) cloaking more than a century of outright racism in legislation. Ignorance is no excuse. Thank you, Edmund Metatawabin for your courage, your voice and your truth. I hear you and I will never look at First Nations issues the same way again.

[Krista · Rating 5 out of 5]

We were all created by Gitchi Manitou. That means we are all related to each other. We were all made of the same stuff. We are all part of the same family. Humans. The Four-Leggeds, or the animals, and the trees, the Standing-Ones. Everything you see around you is part of your family, the people, plants, the trees, and even the rocks. We need all these things to live, and they need us. We are all related. We are all part of the cycle of life. What you see around you must be treated with respect. So that means that we honour the animals when we go out hunting. We thank them for the life that they give us. For giving us their flesh so that we can live. And it means that you are good to your brother when you are looking after him. You do not hit him. You are not rude to him. You treat him like you want to be treated yourself. That's what it is to follow the Red Road.

Edmund Metatawabin, former Chief of the Fort Albany First Nation, has written a memoir which, with the recent release of the findings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, couldn't be more timely. In the 1950s, Metatawabin was sent to the St. Anne's Residential School (now considered the worst of the worst of these abusive institutions), where he was routinely starved, whipped, sexually abused and humiliated, electrocuted with a homemade electric chair, forced to eat his own vomit – all perpetrated by sadistic Catholic nuns, priests and brothers.

Not only does Metatawabin share these early horrors, but he paints a sorry picture of everyday life on his northern reserve: with people in debt to the Hudson's Bay Company (and trappers captive to the ever-changing prices they can get for furs); a dozen people living in a two room house (and a seven year wait for government housing); residents not allowed to fell a tree or build themselves a solid home on “their own land” without government approval; and the Catholic Church having undue influence.

I used to joke with my friends about reserve life when I was at Trenton University. Clayton, Simone and me hanging around at the Commoner bar, laughing about the crowded little houses and the lengthy welfare line. We had ridiculed the Indian Agents and the Indian Act. We japed the so-called Treaty Days, a government-enforced celebration, where the RCMP officers used to come to town to remind us that they'd ripped us off – sorry, to remind us of a historic agreement that no sooner was signed than ignored, like the rest of the broken promises. Each year, my parents lined up with the others, along the hallways of St. Anne's, to get their Treaty Day money. Four dollars per person, as stipulated by the treaties. Same as it ever was. Given to us in the places where we were whipped.

Although Metatawabin was able to find love, get married, and pursue higher education, he suffered PTSD from his years at St. Anne's and fell into a self-destructive cycle of alcohol abuse and remorse. He was eventually saved by a Native-run Healing Circle approach to rehab, and as corny as it may sound, I was in tears as Metatawabin made his breakthrough:

The heat was so intense that I could not breathe. It pulled me into a sadness that had been there for as long as I could remember. Tears mixed with the steam that drenched my face. I cried until I was nothing but dry heat. I lay down on the floor, where it was cooler, and my chest sank into the damp earth. George began to sing, and one by one, the others joined in. Their voices resonated deep within my flesh. I listened as my skin danced with their melodies. Until their last notes had faded into the heat. Then I tried to get up, but I felt a heavy weight, like a dog, on my chest. The weight began to fill my chest, pulling me into a darkness deeper than night. I let go and began to fall. The thick black air pulled me downwards, into the ground. I felt the soil beneath my fingers. I was on the floor, weak and part of the dirt. I was the Great Mother Earth. I was Gitchi Manitou and his Creation.

Finally freed from alcoholism, Metatawabin returned to Fort Albany, was elected Chief, and has spent the last years using traditional Cree knowledge to heal the up-and-coming generations, has been a Native activist – successfully leading a lawsuit against his abusers (although true justice would have seen more people punished, and more severely) and compelling government agents to allow his band to gain some economic autonomy – while writing and lecturing on his experiences. In every way, this man is a hero.

Usually when I read a book like this, I'm left wringing my hands, wondering, “As awful as it is, what can I do about this?” And most compellingly, Metatawabin has a list of suggestions: Abolish the Indian Act, support Native sovereignty, advocate for political change (better representation in Parliament), help youth in education, target youth suicide, and support Native artists. What Metatawabin is asking for isn't more money or some fantasy return to precontact Native life, and what he is asking for is totally reasonable, and I would hope, doable; a walk together along the Red Road.

As a book, Up Ghost River isn't terribly well-written – as the excerpts might suggest – despite Metatawabin using an award-winning journalist as a cowriter, but the material it contains is too important for me to give it any less than five stars. This is a book that every Canadian should read – not because we settlers need to be made to feel guilty about the actions of our ancestors, but because those actions have consequences that we can address today.

[Megan · Rating 5 out of 5]

How do you review a memoir like this? Simple. If you live in Canada you need to read this book. To know where we are going we must learn where we have been. We as Canadians must step up and fight for Indigenous rights. This has gone on for far too long.

[Sandra · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow, I love a book that keeps me up all night reading - if it engages me that much it must deserve a five star rating. Edmund Metatawabin's memoir is oftentimes hard to read - I am overwhelmed at the capacity some human beings have for cruelty to others when I read books like this. Metatawabin's recollections of his childhood at St. Anne's, a residential school in northern Ontario, are horrific. His accounts of being haunted by his past into his adult life and his recollections of the pain he himself caused to others, especially his own family, are brutally honest, as are his descriptions of the path he took toward healing. Not only is this a well-written and engaging memoir, but it is also an educational tool for understanding the atrocities of native history in Canada. At the end of the book, Metatawabin provides a list of recommended readings and a list of ways to work towards achieving reconciliation with Native Peoples in Canada 1) Abolish the archaic Indian Act 2) Support native sovereignty 3) Advocate for political change 4)Help youth in education (referencing Paul Martin's Aboriginal Education Initiative 5) Target youth suicide and 6) Support Native artists.

[Louise · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book every Canadian should read; it will make you angry, very angry, and sad but ultimately it leaves you with hope.

[❀ Susan · Rating 4 out of 5]

https://ayearofbooksblog.com/2017/01/...

Up Ghost river is a harrowing, yet hopeful, memoir of a strong man haunted by the shadows of the notorious St. Anne’s Residential School. Edmund Metatawabin was enrolled in this school in the early 1950s at the age of seven. St. Anne’s is now known as one of the worst residential schools and Metatawabin shared his experience as a student which led to post traumatic stress disorder and alcoholism as he attempted to deal with the abuse he suffered. This memoir has been the January monthly read for the Canadian Content group (on Goodreads) and is one of the books highlighted on the CBC’s 100 True Stories that Make You Proud to Be Canadian list.

The first part of the memoir details the dreadful experience at the school – being fondled during a “medical exam” on admission, having his hair shaved, clothes taken away and being forced to line up according to size. Each child was assigned a number instead of using his or her name. When asking for additional food, the small boy was whipped. Ed would have reprieves over the holidays and during the summer but went back year after year, never sharing with his family the horrors of the residential school.

It was hard to read the passages about being punished in an electric chair and being forced to eat porridge covered in his own vomit, days later. It is difficult to believe that any humans could treat children this way let alone members of the church who were meant to share the values of the religion they represented. The novel focused on the abuse – both physical and sexual – at the hands of the adults but avoided the abuse at the hands of older boys who themselves had been exposed to abuse.

While at residential school, Metatawabin describes being groomed by a local Hudson Bay Store man who treated him kindly. He offered him a job in Montreal, taking him with him, offering a place to stay while he shameless and repeatedly raped him. Metatawabin was ashamed and never shared this with his family until years later when his alcoholic self-abuse led him to treatment. He began to learn indigenous traditions which helped him to heal and take a new path.

Although the abuse is horrible to read, the book also offers hope and shows the resilience and strength of Edmund Metatawabin. He married and had his own children and went back to school. He is a successful businessman, an author, an educator, was the chief in Fort Albany First Nation and as an activist has fought to have St. Anne’s records released to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

Although this is a painful story. It is important to understand the dreadful history of residential schools and see that Metatawabin is a survivor. He ends the book with a chapter on Getting Involved including suggestions like supporting indigenous art, targeting youth suicide and supporting education along with the abolishment of the Indian Act. It is certainly an important book to share and is a great book suggestion for book clubs.

[DeB · Rating 3 out of 5]

The history of the actions of previous religious institutions and governments with an entrenched colonial superior attitude are appalling to discover in this memoir and reflection on the Residential School system which so damaged indigenous peoples of Canada. I felt so saddened that I had no knowledge of these insults to them. Immigrants to Canada from any country other than Britain dealt with racism and were seen as dumb labour for the ruling class. As Canadians we must remember to treat one another with dignity and learn from such injuring behaviour.

[Emmkay · Rating 5 out of 5]

Accessibly and movingly written memoir that describes Metatawabin's experiences growing up in the northern Ontario community of Fort Albany, undergoing terrible abuse in the residential school there, the subsequent effects on his life, and his efforts to heal both himself and his community. Should be a must-read for Canadians.

[Penny (Literary Hoarders)]

It's going to leave a mark but an important read.

[LibraryCin · Rating 4 out of 5]

8-year old Indigenous boy, Edmund, was forced to go to a residential school in Northern Ontario in the 1950s and ‘60s. He didn’t want to go but his mother insisted. His mother was very Catholic and trusted that they would take good care of him. Of course, while at St. Anne’s school, the nuns and priests were abusive to him and others. I was going to mention some of the abuses, but I’ve decided not to; a couple of things were not things I’d heard previously. And for Ed, it got worse after he left for high school in a bigger city.

He did marry and have children, and get a university degree, but he also became an alcoholic. In this memoir, Ed details all of this and more.

As mentioned in my summary, despite having read quite a bit about residential schools, there were still a couple of surprising things (not good surprising). Of course, when he finished school, he had issues (the alcoholism), but it was good to see how he got himself better and is doing good to help others, as well. I thought this was really good.

[Kirsten Jensen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have read novels and memoirs that have made in tear up to full out bawling like a baby, but Edmund Metatawabin memoir, Up Ghost River, is the first piece of literature that when reading I was overwhelmed by so much emotion that I had to put the book down to calm myself before moving on. While reading my hands shook with anger, I became sick to my stomach and my heart broke for these victims.
These emotions did not overcome me because the book was ‘bad’ – they overcame me because of the harsh truths that Metatawabin revealed about his ruthless eight years he spent at St. Anne’s Residential School, and how the after math impacted his life over the following years.
Metatawabin begins his memoir with the death of his baby sister, Rita, in Ontario about 300km from Fort Albany in 1954. Already the clashes of beliefs begin when his mother demands that the family travels to Ghost River so Rita can have a proper Christian burial instead of a Cree burial. When they finally arrive and lay their baby girl down in the earth, Metatawabin’s father, Abraham, asks the priests helper if he may lay down some pemmican in her coffin so she’d have substance during her long journey into the Spirit World. Abraham is given the answer “absolutely not”!
It was not long after the Ed’s (Metatawabin nickname) mother signed him up for St. Anne’s residential school. He was only seven years old. From the moment he stepped into that building was Ed’s life forever changed and his childhood innocence stripped away. The children that attended St. Anne’s Residential Schools were to become victims of severe physical and mental abuse. Children would be slapped and beaten for most smallest infractions or for no reason at all. While the staff at St. Anne’s filled their stomachs with delicious nutritious food, the children were left hungry and malnourished. Desperate for more food, some of the children endure hidden sexual harassment and rape by the priests just to receive a chunk of bread. If a child deserved ‘extreme’ punishment (like Metatawabin did for running away) they would be strapped to the schools electrical chair and electrocuted in front of their peers and the school staff.
Along with these atrocities, hundreds of aboriginal women who were deemed as “unsuitable” for procreation were sterilized without their consent.
Metatawabin goes on to tell of his life after St. Anne’s and how the whole experience he went through had a huge impact on his future and his relationships. He began drinking and had to leave his wife and three children to attend rehab and find some type healing. Fighting the symptoms of alcohol withdrawal was all together was another battle Metatawabin had to fight – mood swings, sweats, nausea, depression, fatigue and sometimes hallucination.
Over the next couple of years, along with the battle to stay sober, Metatawabin worked as the Native Student Counselor within the Native Studies Department at Trent University. Later he moved to Alberta and found employment as the Native Affairs Advisor at the University of Alberta on aboriginal matters. He was in Edmonton for only five years.
Metatawabin was working towards his MA in environmental studies at York University when his community asked him to come home to run for chief. He and his wife Joan and their daughter and two sons moved back to Peetabeck and he served as chief for eight years and was apart of the first Native Community in Ontario to gain control over its own affairs.
How can ripping young aboriginal children away from their families and heritage only to throw them into a world of neglect and abuse be “justifiable”? How can one even comprehend all that has been revealed in this memoir? Yet, Metatawabins book raises more questions - questions that I sadly believe we will never have a true answer for.
I would like to thank Edmund Metatawabin for sharing his journey with us. His memoir slapped me in the face about residential school reality, and his journey after about spiritual healing is a lesson I believe everyone can take home with them.

[Andrew · Rating 4 out of 5]

A typical First Nations memoir. And not a pejorative typical.

Typical in that Edmund Metatawabin suffered every possible indignity associated with the abuse of First Nations in this country. Residential school. Abuse, physical and sexual. Alcoholism. Family breakdown. But eventually, some measure of healing. So his life is typical in that it speaks for thousands of others First Nations people. Which makes his ordeal even more appalling. Because his isn't an isolated case, but one which questions us: what type of society permits this, in any age? Not just the Church. Not just the businesses. Not just the 1950s. But the whole body politic.

Metatawabin's writing is powerful in its brevity. No need for sequences of graphic adjectives here. Just a bare account. And like Thomas King's The Inconvenient Indian it avoids a voice of victimhood that we use to dismiss similar accounts. The rigour of his writing does slip a bit in the last third, leaving a fragmentary, and occasionally rushed, recollection of some major turning points in his life.

But, still, a haunting book.

Follow me on Twitter: @Dr_A_Taubman

[Wanda · Rating 5 out of 5]

I hold sincere and deep respect for Edmund Metatawabin, for his courage and strength in writing his memoir. His advocacy for all Indigenous Canadians has and will continue to facilitate positive change. The author's healing journey should be shared as an agent of hope, there is still great work to be done towards Truth and Reconciliation in our country.

[Celine · Rating 5 out of 5]

I work in healthcare and have had the privilege of living in one of the communities mentioned in the book, interacting with patients from Fort Albany and elsewhere in the region. This memoir is a beautiful reflection of the spirit of the Moose Cree First Nation: resilient, loving, always laughing and cracking jokes. My experience living in a mostly Indigenous community as a non-Indigenous immigrant has taught invaluable life and career lessons, and it is through this lived experience that I am able to connect so viscerally with this book and its stories.

The way the Government of Canada treated (and I would argue continues to treat) Indigenous people is cultural genocide and persisting systemic discrimination. It's ugly, it's horrible, it's disgusting, and Metatawabin was painted visceral images exactly in line with how bad it is. His resilience and ability to survive, heal, and bounce back from trauma takes tremendous courage and strength, a common trait to many of the residential school survivors, and those who unfortunately did not survive.

Trauma has a way of resurfacing no matter what we do, and as Metatawabin showed, it can manifest in substance abuse, abuse of other vulnerable people, and generations of suffering. As a healthcare practitioner, I view life experiences and personal narratives from a healthcare lens: how did this experience come to affect the way a person perceives their own health and the way that it is delivered? By learning from Indigenous populations, both from firsthand experience and stories like this book, I am discovering more and more how and why the burden of healthcare disparities is so great in Indigenous communities. I am sure that this is also true for other discrepancies such as education, nutrition, access to clean water, justice, and violence - everything is connected, as is one of the lessons Metatawabin teaches us.

I understand that I will never understand what it is like to be part of an Indigenous community, one of many generations that have experienced and still continue to experience trauma and systemic discrimination at the hands of settlers. I understand that anyone who has little experience with these populations also cannot fully grasp what it's like (my past-self included). This book and all other Indigenous literature and art weave a rich tapestry of Indigenous history that I would argue is essential for all settlers to at least begin to learn about.

Recognition and reconciliation must come from all levels (population, community, family, and personal) in order for healing to begin, but before we can act, we need to learn. We need to listen to Metatawabin and other Indigenous authors, support Indigenous initiatives in policy, education, arts, healthcare, and justice. I would call this book a "must-read" because of the beautiful lessons about Indigenous spirituality and strength and retelling of the country's dark, hidden history. I call this book a "must-read" because the more you learn, the closer you get to understanding, the more effective your actions can be. It is my civic duty, and my responsibility as a fellow human being, to advocate for those who are being unfairly treated. Ni chi shannock. All my relations.

[Wendy Jackson · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was interested in reading this book because the author comes from the same region of Ontario where I spent a good chunk of my childhood. I went to school with Metatawabin kids - surely from the same family. I am so glad I have read this book, though I wish I would have had sought out these types of resources (assuming they were available) 35+ years ago.

Some observations:
-The book is very well-written: Metatawabin is clearly a skilled storyteller. This is an autobiography that reads like a novel.
-The detail about the residential schools and the punitive nature of Canadian law on "Indian" matters was shocking. I thought it was bad - Metatawabin's experience clearly indicates it was even worse.
-Every Canadian should have to read this novel, or one like it. It perfectly explains why outcomes for First Nations in Canada are so much worse than the rest of the population (i.e. like Maori and Pacific Islanders in NZ and Aboriginals in Australia). How can we not agitate for justice when we have this information? Which leads us to...
-There are positive things that people can do, and Metatawabin gives a helpful list at the end of the book.

I recommend this book for everyone.

[CanadianReader · Rating 4 out of 5]

Up Ghost River is less "a chief's journey through the turbulent waters of native history" (as the subtitle suggests) than it is a record of his confrontation with the ghosts of his past. Born in Fort Albany in Northern Ontario, Metatawabin was sent, as a young child, to Saint Anne's, often described as the worst of the residential schools for Aboriginal children. Among the abuses Metatawabin (and others) endured and documents here were sexual abuse, being forced to consume his own vomit, and being made to sit in an electrified chair after he and another boy tried to run away. Along with Catholic Church officials, a Hudson's Bay Company employee is identified as a perpetrator. A good deal of the book looks at the impact this treatment had on Metatawabin. He is painfully honest about his downward spiral into alcoholism, its impact on his marriage and family, and his struggle to pull himself out of addiction with the aid of Aboriginal spiritual practices. The work concludes with reflection on the "Idle No More" movement, in which young Aboriginal Canadians have sought to take back their power. This is a hopeful, informative, and valuable work, which I highly recommend.

[Care]

This book has been on my tbr since it was published in 2014 and I picked it up as part of my anti-racist reading this year as well as a part of my "long unread tbr" project I've done in 2021.

A powerful memoir that focuses both on pain and in the healing process. Edmund goes through unspeakable violence in his life and shares his raw wounds with his readers. His own personal journey, warts and all. He doesn't shirk responsibility for his bad decisions but his upbringing and history of abuse certainly explain the trauma behind his reasoning.

From his youngest memories to his present struggles for justice for his community. Every memoir from a residential school survivor is a voice for many and we must continue to listen. This book also comes with an extensive afterward including action plans and information to continue researching and unlearning. A true treasure and resource. A great place for beginners to start and still full of unique experiences and knowledge for those who have read extensively in this area. Grateful for Edmund's words and his presence in this movement.

content warnings: residential school (white supremacy, torture, electrocution, child molestation, rape, murder, medical experimentation, food scarcity, beatings, religious indoctrination), rape, alcoholism, infidelity, betrayal.

[Shelby · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was so powerful, that I wrote to the author, Edmund Metatawabin, to thank him for sharing his personal experiences in Canada's residential school system.
Seriously - read. this. book!!

[Avi Paulson · Rating 5 out of 5]

excellent and deeply depressing

[Jeremy · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is one of those "important" books, where you read about how awful things are for Native people. In that respect, this is a 5 star book. I couldn't believe how badly these children were treated at residential schools. They were numbered, humiliated, molested, and tortured by a bunch of nuns and priests.

That's why it's so disappointing that the writing lets the story down. You would think, if Mr. Matawabin was going to hire a professional writer to help him, he would have hired someone with a feel for narrative. This guy writes like a journalist in the worst possible way. You don't notice it so much when you are reading the searing account of the author's school years, but once the excitement dies down and you're into his later life, the lifeless, choppy prose becomes apparent.

Hopefully readers will be able to get beyond the rough presentation of the author's account, and learn the painful but valuable lessons within the text.

[Lindsay Elliott · Rating 3 out of 5]

Told from the perspective and voice of Edmund Metatawabin, this book tells the story of Edmund's past being put through the residential school system. Being heavily dialogue based, the personal emotions and reflections of the author are clearly displayed, along with a significant amount of blame being placed on the system. It is an informative read, written at an approachable level, that gives a clear, personal connection and explanation to Native history and the consequences of residential schools. I received the book for free through Goodreads First Reads.

[Julie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an important book. It addresses a very difficult part of Canadian history, the abuses of the Residential Schools, through the point of view of a survivor. Edmund Metatawabin attended St. Anne's Residential School, witnessing and experiencing emotional, physical, and sexual abuse for many years. This memoir explores his recovery process, through alcoholism and trauma, and shows how long reaching the horrors are. It's a difficult story to read, because it's true, and is only one of thousands like it, but it also shows the successes and work that Ed Metatawabin has done to empower the Cree in Ontario. He has found his way through the trauma, and is empowering others to do the same.

[Colleen · Rating 5 out of 5]

To say that this is an important read feels almost trite. But it is. I had to put this book down at several points. As a mother, I was overwhelmed by the abuse that these children had to endure, abuse that was sanctioned by both the church and our government. This should be required reading for all Canadians.

[Nicole · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you're looking to learn more about residential schools, and their lasting impact on the students and families of those who attended, this memoir is a great read. It also opened my eyes to some of the rules reserves have to follow that I wasn't previously aware of.

This book can be a tough read at some points, as the author is very point blank about what happened, and doesn't sugarcoat.

[Scott Harris · Rating 4 out of 5]

A powerful recount of an exceptionally challenging youth. I've not read many recounts that illustrate the brutal events that were experienced. I have great respect for Edmund Metatawabin. I believe it takes great courage to put his words to paper.

A powerful read.

[Sheela Lal · Rating 4 out of 5]

This memoir doesn't glaze over the abuses and their impact on the author, his family, and community. It is important to read and apply this to policies that directly impact native communities.

[Chris Thomas · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is not an easy book to read. However, it is an important book. This memoir chronicles the author's time in Residential school and the affect it had on his life. Highly recommend.

[Krista · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great book. A real eye opener. Heartbreaking.

[Jennifer Williams · Rating 5 out of 5]

Truly heartbreaking story. It was definitely an eye opener to what went on and what is still going on. When I was reading the story I wanted more about what actually happened at the residential schools because not much was said at first. Closer to the end I appreciated the more indept story although really hard to read I think the stories have to be told. I also appreciated that at the end of the book they give out suggestions on where do we go from here. How do we help? It explains in details where some of energy can go over the outrage of what has happened to so many.