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Showing posts with label Tauni Sheldon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tauni Sheldon. Show all posts

Thursday, July 25, 2024

Indigenous women recognized for children’s welfare work

 www.wellingtonadvertiser.com /indigenous-women-recognized-for-childrens-welfare-work/


Robin George 7/24/2024 

And they took away more than just culture, Stewart said – “They disposed of everything. Family. Teachings. Land. Inheritance.”


GUELPH – Family and Children’s Services of Guelph and Wellington County (FCSGW) has recognized three Indigenous women for their work in child welfare advocacy.

Tauni Sheldon, Donna Dubie and Wendy Stewart were presented with FCSGW’s Award of Merit on June 20. 

“The invaluable contributions of these Indigenous leaders and unwavering dedication to their communities serves as an inspiration to us all,” FCSGW officials state.  

“This is the first time in local history Indigenous providers have been recognized for our child welfare advocacy,” Stewart said.

Sheldon, Dubie and Stewart advocate for Indigenous children involved with child welfare societies across Ontario. They are not agents of family and children’s services but independent providers who offer culturally appropriate support to Indigenous families.

Inuit advocacy

Sheldon lives in Ospringe and is Inuk from Nunavut and Northern Quebec, a Sixties Scoop survivor, and a cultural advisor with Kamatsiarniq. 

Sixties Scoop refers to the removal of tens of thousands of Indigenous children from their families into the Canadian child welfare system. 

Kamatsiarniq translates to “a place where Inuit are welcome” and is a child welfare program at Tunjasuvvingat Inuit, a non-profit service provider. 

Sheldon oversees Inuit culture with families, supports Inuit families through navigating the child welfare system and guides children’s aid societies regarding Inuit culture and Inuit rights. 

“Its important for Inuit to have that advocacy and support,” Sheldon said, “especially as none of us are on our traditional lands” in southern Ontario. 

Tauni said Inuit are often swept under a pan-Indigenous approach, or assumed to be First Nations, instead of recognized as a distinct Indigenous group. 

When Inuit are sent to Ontario from northern Canada through the child welfare system, she said it’s important the children “remain connected to who they are as Inuit.” 

Sheldon said she “has that fire to try and be that voice for people who don’t have their voice or don’t know what to do,” because she knows how it feels to be a voiceless child.

Her family and her adoptive family are “still trying to understand the Sixties Scoop.”

“For my birth mother, it was very traumatic,” she said. Sheldon’s birth mother had arranged for a traditional Inuit adoption, but instead Sheldon was “scooped” and taken away to Ontario. 

“I was a baby when I was apprehended” and at that time, there weren’t Indigenous people in the system who could advocate for her, Sheldon said.

After decades apart, Sheldon reconnected with her mother and said they now have a loving relationship. On Sheldon’s 50th birthday, she spent the day with her mother – the first birthday with her mother since the day she was born. 

“We cried and held each other,” Sheldon said, adding she hears many stories similar to her own through her work.

First Nations

Dubie is an intergenerational residential school survivor who is Haudenesounee Turtle Clan from the territory of the Grand River. 

She’s the founder and executive director of Healing of the Seven Generations (HSG), a nonprofit organization in Kitchener that supports Indigenous people in Waterloo, Wellington, Guelph and surrounding areas suffering the impacts of the residential school system. 

Stewart, who lived in Erin from 1968 until 2019, is Bay of Quinte Mohawk Turtle Clan and the founder of Tall Tree Indigenous Peace Building Circles, a non-profit that supports Indigenous families and children through healing circles. 

The circles go beyond conflict resolution, Stewart said, and work to “wrap around a family” and rally to figure out what they need. 

Her work centres around safety, helping the family “address what they don’t do so well,” and emphasizing their strengths. 

She builds relationships and trust with the families  and helps them become aware “of their identity that was stolen from them.” 

“If they are First Nations, I can say ‘here are your teachings – this is who you are. These values are pretty important. This is what was taken from you.’

“If they are Ojibwe, I can say ‘you are an Anishinaabekwe; an Ojibwe woman. I want you to keep repeating that.’”  

Then she starts connecting them with “helpers,” many of whom work at HSG.

The helpers’ support includes food security, housing, health care, education, court support and ceremonies. 

“It takes a village,” Stewart said, “and we are building that village.” 

There is nothing like HSG in Wellington County or Guelph, so many Indigenous locals go to Kitchener to receive this support, Stewart explained. 

Funding

And though HSG supports hundreds of people from Clifford to Kitchener, funding is limited, Dubie noted. 

“Funding for Indigenous community organizations is always on the sparse side – an Indigenous organization will only be funded two thirds of what a mainstream organization is,” she said. 

“We ride on grants for the most part,” Stewart said, “but grants are not sustainable.” 

“It’s like the Canadian government wants us to fail,” Stewart said.

“We need resources,” Dubie said, “we need them to walk beside us, because we can’t do it all alone. But we aren’t asking them to control us as they walk beside us – walk beside us in friendship and understanding.”

She compared keeping the organization afloat on such a tight budget to “surviving above the drowning line of a flood.” 

But despite the low funds, “We are going to do everything we can to better help those children,” Dubie said. 

With more resources, they would like to create a place like HSG in Wellington County or Guelph, Dubie and Stewart said. 

‘Canada did this’

Supports such as those offered at HSG are essential to combatting systemic issues such as the over-representation of Indigenous people in foster care, shelters, prisons and hospitals, “yet do we get the help to better our people? Absolutely not,” Dubie said. 

“We basically top the chart at everything,” Stewart said: suicide, domestic violence, child welfare system, criminal system, poverty.

Dubie said it’s important to recognize these issues are results of the residential school system and the Sixties Scoop: “Canada did this to our people.

“The Canadian government didn’t want any more Indian ‘problem,’” Stewart said, so that’s why they wanted to take the Indian out of the child.”

And they took away more than just culture, Stewart said – “They disposed of everything. Family. Teachings. Land. Inheritance.”

Dubie said many Indigenous families struggling “don’t even know themselves why they are dysfunctional,” but their parents, grandparents and great grandparents were abused in residential schools and were told they could never speak about it, so turned to drugs, alcohol, gambling and other addictions to try to escape the pain. 

“Canada is saying between 150,000 and 200,000 people were in residential schools,” Dubie said. “They have families, those families have families,” and the trauma is passed on from one generation to the next.

Indigenous children were  shamed for their culture and told it was “evil devil worship,” which made them “afraid to be who they really are” and speak their traditional languages even after leaving school, Dubie said. 

The children also experienced a wide range of physical and sexual abuse.

“They come out as young teens and young adults who don’t know how to be parents because of all those things that they were taught. Those things they were taught became parenting skills,” she said. 

‘Knows the history’

“In order to service a family, you’ve got to have someone that understands that culture and knows the history,” Stewart said. 

“All their lives they have been told they are a piece of shit,” she said. “We are saying, ‘guess what? You are not a piece of shit, and you do matter. (The Creator doesn’t) make mistakes, and Creator made you. So come on, let’s pull up your socks, let’s go.” 

Dubie said organizations such as HSG, Tall Tree and Kamatsiarniq help families “get back in touch with their culture and understand who they are.”

Stewart said some children first learn they are Indigenous after connecting with an advocate through the child welfare system. 

“We bring them back to the teachings. Help them build their self esteem. Help them build that spirit in them. Help them live a good life,” Stewart said. “We teach them how they can pray,” and about Indigenous stories and world views.

With ceremonies and traditional medicines, the advocates help families “move away from the drugs and alcohol and abuses. Because that’s not who we are as a people,” Dubie said. 

“We are not ‘heathens,’ not ‘dirty Indians,’ we have heart and spirit,” she said. “We are people. We just want to survive – and have an awesome day.”

“Our community has a lot of kindness,” Sheldon added. “That’s our teachings.” But she said kindness can be a hard thing to achieve, “because we weren’t raised with kindness,” and faced lifelong systemic abuse, racism and criticism. 

“You were beaten up as a kid when you went to mainstream school,” she said, and many Indigenous mothers had child welfare show up in the hospital as soon as they gave birth, “and you didn’t even do anything wrong. 

“So to walk with kindness – it takes a lot.” 

Breaking the cycle

Stewart said it’s significant for her when she sees children she worked with grow up to flourish as healthy and happy adults, “knowing that cycle is broken, and they are going to be okay.” 

Some of the children grow up to be child welfare advocates themselves, she said. 

Dubie said receiving the Merit Award was meaningful as it shows how far they have come along “a very long road.

“The award really recognized our endurance and our dedication to the community. Not just our contributions to child welfare, but the tough journey that we had and our resilience,” she said 

Sheldon said it was an honour, particularly to share it with Stewart and Dubie, though it “felt kinda strange, as it’s not really the Inuit way to be awarded or recognized.”

Sheldon said she, Stewart and Dubie often “go beyond what we are asked to do … because we know the need is out there,” and they appreciate being recognized for that. 

And she said FCSGW “has really taken a few extra steps, compared to other children’s aid societies, to work in Indigenous well-being.”

“We are incredibly grateful for the opportunity to collaborate and partner with Wendy, Donna and Tauni; working together to disrupt and change the legacy of child welfare with Indigenous communities,” FCSGW officials state.

Sheldon said she has hope for the future because “we are in a day now of truth and reconciliation.

“We can’t erase the past,” Sheldon said, “but it left a legacy that is impacting Indigenous people.”  

And now that the truth is out in the open, “We can work together as all people,” towards a better future. 


Robin George Reporter

 

Indigenous women recognized for children’s welfare work

 www.wellingtonadvertiser.com /indigenous-women-recognized-for-childrens-welfare-work/

Robin George 7/24/2024 

And they took away more than just culture, Stewart said – “They disposed of everything. Family. Teachings. Land. Inheritance.”


GUELPH – Family and Children’s Services of Guelph and Wellington County (FCSGW) has recognized three Indigenous women for their work in child welfare advocacy.

Tauni Sheldon, Donna Dubie and Wendy Stewart were presented with FCSGW’s Award of Merit on June 20. 

“The invaluable contributions of these Indigenous leaders and unwavering dedication to their communities serves as an inspiration to us all,” FCSGW officials state.  

“This is the first time in local history Indigenous providers have been recognized for our child welfare advocacy,” Stewart said.

Sheldon, Dubie and Stewart advocate for Indigenous children involved with child welfare societies across Ontario. They are not agents of family and children’s services but independent providers who offer culturally appropriate support to Indigenous families.

Inuit advocacy

Sheldon lives in Ospringe and is Inuk from Nunavut and Northern Quebec, a Sixties Scoop survivor, and a cultural advisor with Kamatsiarniq. 

Sixties Scoop refers to the removal of tens of thousands of Indigenous children from their families into the Canadian child welfare system. 

Kamatsiarniq translates to “a place where Inuit are welcome” and is a child welfare program at Tunjasuvvingat Inuit, a non-profit service provider. 

Sheldon oversees Inuit culture with families, supports Inuit families through navigating the child welfare system and guides children’s aid societies regarding Inuit culture and Inuit rights. 

“Its important for Inuit to have that advocacy and support,” Sheldon said, “especially as none of us are on our traditional lands” in southern Ontario. 

Tauni said Inuit are often swept under a pan-Indigenous approach, or assumed to be First Nations, instead of recognized as a distinct Indigenous group. 

When Inuit are sent to Ontario from northern Canada through the child welfare system, she said it’s important the children “remain connected to who they are as Inuit.” 

Sheldon said she “has that fire to try and be that voice for people who don’t have their voice or don’t know what to do,” because she knows how it feels to be a voiceless child.

Her family and her adoptive family are “still trying to understand the Sixties Scoop.”

“For my birth mother, it was very traumatic,” she said. Sheldon’s birth mother had arranged for a traditional Inuit adoption, but instead Sheldon was “scooped” and taken away to Ontario. 

“I was a baby when I was apprehended” and at that time, there weren’t Indigenous people in the system who could advocate for her, Sheldon said.

After decades apart, Sheldon reconnected with her mother and said they now have a loving relationship. On Sheldon’s 50th birthday, she spent the day with her mother – the first birthday with her mother since the day she was born. 

“We cried and held each other,” Sheldon said, adding she hears many stories similar to her own through her work.

First Nations

Dubie is an intergenerational residential school survivor who is Haudenesounee Turtle Clan from the territory of the Grand River. 

She’s the founder and executive director of Healing of the Seven Generations (HSG), a nonprofit organization in Kitchener that supports Indigenous people in Waterloo, Wellington, Guelph and surrounding areas suffering the impacts of the residential school system. 

Stewart, who lived in Erin from 1968 until 2019, is Bay of Quinte Mohawk Turtle Clan and the founder of Tall Tree Indigenous Peace Building Circles, a non-profit that supports Indigenous families and children through healing circles. 

The circles go beyond conflict resolution, Stewart said, and work to “wrap around a family” and rally to figure out what they need. 

Her work centres around safety, helping the family “address what they don’t do so well,” and emphasizing their strengths. 

She builds relationships and trust with the families  and helps them become aware “of their identity that was stolen from them.” 

“If they are First Nations, I can say ‘here are your teachings – this is who you are. These values are pretty important. This is what was taken from you.’

“If they are Ojibwe, I can say ‘you are an Anishinaabekwe; an Ojibwe woman. I want you to keep repeating that.’”  

Then she starts connecting them with “helpers,” many of whom work at HSG.

The helpers’ support includes food security, housing, health care, education, court support and ceremonies. 

“It takes a village,” Stewart said, “and we are building that village.” 

There is nothing like HSG in Wellington County or Guelph, so many Indigenous locals go to Kitchener to receive this support, Stewart explained. 

Funding

And though HSG supports hundreds of people from Clifford to Kitchener, funding is limited, Dubie noted. 

“Funding for Indigenous community organizations is always on the sparse side – an Indigenous organization will only be funded two thirds of what a mainstream organization is,” she said. 

“We ride on grants for the most part,” Stewart said, “but grants are not sustainable.” 

“It’s like the Canadian government wants us to fail,” Stewart said.

“We need resources,” Dubie said, “we need them to walk beside us, because we can’t do it all alone. But we aren’t asking them to control us as they walk beside us – walk beside us in friendship and understanding.”

She compared keeping the organization afloat on such a tight budget to “surviving above the drowning line of a flood.” 

But despite the low funds, “We are going to do everything we can to better help those children,” Dubie said. 

With more resources, they would like to create a place like HSG in Wellington County or Guelph, Dubie and Stewart said. 

‘Canada did this’

Supports such as those offered at HSG are essential to combatting systemic issues such as the over-representation of Indigenous people in foster care, shelters, prisons and hospitals, “yet do we get the help to better our people? Absolutely not,” Dubie said. 

“We basically top the chart at everything,” Stewart said: suicide, domestic violence, child welfare system, criminal system, poverty.

Dubie said it’s important to recognize these issues are results of the residential school system and the Sixties Scoop: “Canada did this to our people.

“The Canadian government didn’t want any more Indian ‘problem,’” Stewart said, so that’s why they wanted to take the Indian out of the child.”

And they took away more than just culture, Stewart said – “They disposed of everything. Family. Teachings. Land. Inheritance.”

Dubie said many Indigenous families struggling “don’t even know themselves why they are dysfunctional,” but their parents, grandparents and great grandparents were abused in residential schools and were told they could never speak about it, so turned to drugs, alcohol, gambling and other addictions to try to escape the pain. 

“Canada is saying between 150,000 and 200,000 people were in residential schools,” Dubie said. “They have families, those families have families,” and the trauma is passed on from one generation to the next.

Indigenous children were  shamed for their culture and told it was “evil devil worship,” which made them “afraid to be who they really are” and speak their traditional languages even after leaving school, Dubie said. 

The children also experienced a wide range of physical and sexual abuse.

“They come out as young teens and young adults who don’t know how to be parents because of all those things that they were taught. Those things they were taught became parenting skills,” she said. 

‘Knows the history’

“In order to service a family, you’ve got to have someone that understands that culture and knows the history,” Stewart said. 

“All their lives they have been told they are a piece of shit,” she said. “We are saying, ‘guess what? You are not a piece of shit, and you do matter. (The Creator doesn’t) make mistakes, and Creator made you. So come on, let’s pull up your socks, let’s go.” 

Dubie said organizations such as HSG, Tall Tree and Kamatsiarniq help families “get back in touch with their culture and understand who they are.”

Stewart said some children first learn they are Indigenous after connecting with an advocate through the child welfare system. 

“We bring them back to the teachings. Help them build their self esteem. Help them build that spirit in them. Help them live a good life,” Stewart said. “We teach them how they can pray,” and about Indigenous stories and world views.

With ceremonies and traditional medicines, the advocates help families “move away from the drugs and alcohol and abuses. Because that’s not who we are as a people,” Dubie said. 

“We are not ‘heathens,’ not ‘dirty Indians,’ we have heart and spirit,” she said. “We are people. We just want to survive – and have an awesome day.”

“Our community has a lot of kindness,” Sheldon added. “That’s our teachings.” But she said kindness can be a hard thing to achieve, “because we weren’t raised with kindness,” and faced lifelong systemic abuse, racism and criticism. 

“You were beaten up as a kid when you went to mainstream school,” she said, and many Indigenous mothers had child welfare show up in the hospital as soon as they gave birth, “and you didn’t even do anything wrong. 

“So to walk with kindness – it takes a lot.” 

Breaking the cycle

Stewart said it’s significant for her when she sees children she worked with grow up to flourish as healthy and happy adults, “knowing that cycle is broken, and they are going to be okay.” 

Some of the children grow up to be child welfare advocates themselves, she said. 

Dubie said receiving the Merit Award was meaningful as it shows how far they have come along “a very long road.

“The award really recognized our endurance and our dedication to the community. Not just our contributions to child welfare, but the tough journey that we had and our resilience,” she said 

Sheldon said it was an honour, particularly to share it with Stewart and Dubie, though it “felt kinda strange, as it’s not really the Inuit way to be awarded or recognized.”

Sheldon said she, Stewart and Dubie often “go beyond what we are asked to do … because we know the need is out there,” and they appreciate being recognized for that. 

And she said FCSGW “has really taken a few extra steps, compared to other children’s aid societies, to work in Indigenous well-being.”

“We are incredibly grateful for the opportunity to collaborate and partner with Wendy, Donna and Tauni; working together to disrupt and change the legacy of child welfare with Indigenous communities,” FCSGW officials state.

Sheldon said she has hope for the future because “we are in a day now of truth and reconciliation.

“We can’t erase the past,” Sheldon said, “but it left a legacy that is impacting Indigenous people.”  

And now that the truth is out in the open, “We can work together as all people,” towards a better future. 


Robin George Reporter

 

Sunday, January 8, 2023

60s Scoop survivor reconnects with birth mom, discovers her culture, decades after separation

It took many years for the pair to develop a mother-daughter relationship

A small child smiles, dressed in a hat and coat outside in the snow.
Tauni Sheldon, pictured when she was about three years old. Sheldon has worked to reconnect and rebuild the relationship with her birth mom after she was taken away as part of the Sixties Scoop three hours after birth. (Submitted by Pam Sheldon)

WARNING: This story contains distressing details

Tauni Sheldon remembers the first time she saw her biological mom.

Sheldon was 23 years old. 

It was 1993 and she was in the Winnipeg airport, having just flown in with her adoptive parents, Jim and Pam Sheldon. 

Her birth mom was waiting at the bottom of the escalator. 

"She had flowers and she looked up at me … and she just said, 'Wow, you're very tall,'" said Sheldon with a chuckle, adding that her mother is legally blind, but can see shapes and features.

Sheldon says she towered over her mother's petite frame as the two cried and tried to process what was happening. 

"I was afraid and I was happy and excited, but I was also scared and angry, and I think it was a whole mix of 'Holy cow, like, this is real now,' and I think it was the same for her," said Sheldon.

CBC is not identifying Sheldon's birth mother after being unable to speak with her directly.

In 1970, Sheldon's birth mom was flown from Inukjuak, Que., to Thunder Bay, Ont., to give birth. 

Sheldon was taken from her just hours after birth, and for more than two decades, her mom had no idea where she was.

Sheldon was adopted by a white family in southern Ontario. She was part of the Sixties Scoop — a period when Indigenous children were forcibly removed from their birth families, those families often having no idea where their children had gone. 

As one of the estimated 20,000 survivors across Canada, Sheldon has since worked to build a relationship with her biological mother and move past the anger and trauma that tainted their relationship for decades.

Advertised for adoption in Toronto newspaper 

In 1970, Sheldon's photo was posted in a column in a Toronto newspaper, the Toronto Telegram.

The advertisement included a description — and used an offensive and outdated term to describe Inuit, highlighting the racist attitudes surrounding the Sixties Scoop.

Sheldon compares it to a car ad. 

Composite image: black and white baby photo on the left, yellowed newspaper clipping on right.
Tauni Sheldon is pictured here as a baby and to the right is the newspaper clipping from the Toronto Telegram that advertised her for interested parents as an 'Eskimo Baby.' (Submitted by Tauni Sheldon)

"Little Miss Eskimo can't crawl yet but she moves around anyway, pulling with her arms and pushing with her sturdy legs. She's big for her age and has lovely almond-shaped eyes and round cheeks," read the column.

Ten months later, Sheldon was adopted.

Although she describes her adoptive family as "very loving," Sheldon says she grew up feeling as though she didn't truly belong in the southern Ontario town of Milton where they lived.


'I didn't want to be who I was'

Two children sit in a playroom.
Tauni Sheldon pictured with her baby brother, Duff Sheldon. Tauni says he tried to defend her against some of the bullies as a child. (Submitted by Pam Sheldon)

Sheldon was nine when she first saw the column offering her up for adoption. She remembers thinking she "didn't want to be Eskimo."

"I experienced a lot of racism.… I didn't want to be who I was," said Sheldon. She would get beaten up by bullies, her little brother trying to protect her.

"I know my [adoptive] parents love me and they always have and we're very close but just not having any visual identification with other family or Inuit community, I just didn't know what to do with any of that and I was angry."

That was no secret to Pam Sheldon, Tauni's adoptive mother.

"I knew she was extremely unhappy," she said. 

"She was kind of introspective. She wasn't a bubbly [or] overly talkative person. I used to say, 'Still waters run deep.' And so a lot of the things that happened to her … she didn't share with me."

As Tauni got older, she did share some of the racism she experienced. One story from high school stuck out for her adoptive mother. 

"One time in the schoolyard, a bunch of the boys held her down and painted her legs with Wite-Out … yelling at her that she had to be white. Holy mackerel, I was just mortified," said Pam. 

A woman smiles as she holds a baby.
Pam Sheldon and Tauni Sheldon. Pam says it was only years afterward that she started hearing about some of the challenges Tauni faced in her childhood and adulthood. (Submitted by Pam Sheldon)

Adoption challenges 

The struggles Sixties Scoop survivors face as adoptees into white families are unique, says Raven Sinclair, a research consultant and retired professor of social work at the University of Regina who is Cree, Assiniboine, Saulteaux and Métis. 

"[Historically] the mythology of adoption was done for the purpose of inheritance," said Sinclair, who was adopted by a white family when she was four.

"When children are adopted it's as if [they are] born to that family and so that works just fine if the children are the same ethnicity as the parents.… It doesn't work so well when it's children of colour." 

Sinclair recalls being bullied for being a "brown kid in a white world," and struggling to connect with her biological family — hoping for a "loving and nurturing sort of fantasy" that didn't develop right away. 

'I didn't know where to start with her'

After Sheldon's reunion with her mom, she says the mother-daughter bond was harder to build than she could have imagined. 

"I was just terrified to even ask questions. I didn't know where to start with her," said Sheldon.

"We wanted instant mother-daughter [relationship], but it didn't happen."

Although the pair stayed in touch, there was a symbolic wall between them, says Sheldon. A big part of that had to do with how her mother began to relive having Sheldon taken away. 

"At that time, there was a lot of anger and a lot of rage.… We left it alone for a lot of years," said Sheldon. 

She initially felt that she didn't deserve to learn traditional culture or language because she didn't grow up in Nunavik. 

"I feel like I [still] don't deserve these things unfortunately," she said. "So as an adult, I'm trying to put that aside and remind myself I am who I am."

A woman stands next to a young man, who is wearing traditional Inuit clothing.
Tauni Sheldon and her son, Aalpi Inuluk. She says he claimed his Inuit name after his biological grandfather, Inuluk Tukkiapik. (Submitted by Tauni Sheldon)

Opening 'our eyes to each other'

Things changed for the better between the pair in 2003, at Sheldon's wedding. 

She recalls her mom making a moving toast. 

"She stood up and told the story of how I was taken away from her.… That just opened our eyes to each other a little more," said Sheldon. "Finally, there was a time where it changed. We could start talking about it."

In the following years, they became closer as Sheldon welcomed her son, Aalpi, her birth mother's only grandchild. 

Things also started to change following her birth mom's cancer diagnosis in April 2021. 

Sheldon became her medical escort, travelling with her from her home in Ospringe, Ont., to Montreal for treatment. 

During those trips, there was time for her mother to reflect on her life and her family.

A mother holds a baby on her shoulders.
Tauni Sheldon, pictured with her son, Aalpi Inuluk. In 2007 she had her birth mom travel to Ontario to meet him, her only grandchild. (Submitted by Pam Sheldon)

"She talked about my father a little bit more to me … and I know my parents did love one another because that's always been a mystery to me," said Sheldon, adding that her father was also legally blind and met her mom at a Canadian National Institute for the Blind home in Toronto. Sheldon reconnected with her birth father as an adult, before he died in 2007. 

One of Sheldon's most precious memories is her 50th birthday in 2019. It was the first she spent with her birth mother.

Her mom sang "Happy Birthday" in Inuktitut as they both sobbed.

"And she said, 'I'm so happy that we're celebrating your birthday together,'" recalled Sheldon. "'This is the first time since you were taken from me.'"

Support is available for anyone affected by their experience as part of the Sixties Scoop or residential schools.

A national Indian Residential School Crisis Line has been set up to provide support for former students 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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