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Chapter 8: River, Give Me My Son Back
Themes
Key
LitCharts assigns a color and icon to each theme in Seven Fallen Feathers, which you can use to track the themes throughout the work.
Colonialism, Cultural Genocide, and Racism
Generational Trauma and Circular Suffering
Indigenous Youth, Education Reform, and Support Networks
Tradition, Prophecy, Spirituality, and Hope
Summary
Analysis
In March of 2011, the Court of Appeal judgement in Reggie Bushie’s case came out: the Court was concerned with the representation in the coroner jury rolls in Thunder Bay. An inquiry as to how the Thunder Bay jury rolls were formed was going to begin—but this meant that the legal “wrangling” to follow would delay movement on the inquest for many years. While the case was stalled, the NAN lost another student, Jordan Wabasse, in May of 2011. He was the seventh student to die and the fifth whose body was recovered in one of Thunder Bay’s rivers. The Government of Canada was failing to take any meaningful action to stop Indigenous students from dying.
This passage illustrates the very different approaches to justice in white Canadian bureaucracy and Indigenous communities. The Indigenous families of the seven fallen feathers simply wanted justice and understanding so that their community’s children could be better protected in the future. But the labyrinthine bureaucracy of the Canadian government felt no urgency or genuine desire for understanding and change—and in the meantime, yet another student was allowed to slip through the cracks and lose their life.
Themes
Shannen Koostachin would never live to see a new school built in her community—on June 1, 2010, she died from injuries sustained in a car accident after leaving her reserve to attend high school somewhere else. Northern First Nations families must choose between sending their children away to a place where their safety can’t be assured and keeping them at home, where there aren’t enough resources to ensure that they’re getting good educations and opportunities for the future. Essentially, Indigenous families must still surrender their students to the education system, decades after the closure of the residential schools. The NNEC doesn’t have proper funding or infrastructure—and so putting children in their care, Talaga argues, is just “another form of colonial control and racism.”
Even though Shannen’s death was accidental, she was yet another student who became a victim of the system in place for Indigenous education. She was forced to make a choice between the inadequate educational resources on her reservation or taking the risk of moving away to attend school—and like so many other Indigenous students, she died far away from home. This passage represents the crux of Talaga’s book-length argument about the state of Indigenous education initiatives: they don’t protect Indigenous students who are leaving home for the first time and entering new environments. And until they do, or until Indigenous people are granted the resources they need so that their children don’t have to move away to get a good education, there will be devastating casualties.
Themes
In 2013, Statistics Canada named Thunder Bay the “hate crime capital of Canada,” with more reported hate crimes than any other city in the entire country. The executive officer of Thunder Bay Police tried to downplay the statistics—but Talaga recounts a number of incidents in which members of the police force themselves engaged in racist behavior.
Even though Thunder Bay was officially recognized as a place where hate crimes were particularly rampant and violent, the police did not reconsider the possibility of foul play in the deaths of five of the “seven fallen feathers.” The report made clear that racism continued to be a significant problem in Thunder Bay, yet the government and police did nothing to stop the violence and protect Indigenous people.
Themes
In May of 2012, Julian Falconer wrote to the coroner on behalf of the NAN, reminding them that there were now seven dead students who needed to be included in the inquest. Six of the students went to DFC, and five drowned; Falconer cited unmistakable “patterns to the deaths” that needed to be investigated. Alvin Fiddler and Julian believed that First Nations kids were being targeted and murdered. Too many kids were dying in the same way, and the Thunder Bay Police were writing them all off as accidents immediately, pinning the blame on the kids for having alcohol in their systems.
Even though Falconer and several members of the Indigenous communities from which the seven fallen feathers came believed that there was overwhelming circumstantial evidence of foul play, they struggled to get any Canadian government or state institutions to admit to the patterns to the death. Instead of admitting the possibility of racist violence unfolding on a large scale in one of Canada’s cities, the authorities were continuing to push racist tropes about alcoholism in order to distract from what seemed to be the truth.
Themes
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Falconer and retired Supreme Court Justice Frank Iacobucci, working together to review the jury system, visited all of the communities where the seven deceased kids had been raised. The more Iacobucci learned, the more he wanted to dig up about “the truth of what [was] going on.” The parents whose children had died had few answers from the police or other authorities about their children’s deaths—and those who hadn’t yet sent their children away to school were faced with an impossible decision.
This passage shows how the things that happened in Thunder Bay didn’t just affect the devastated families of the seven fallen feathers—they affected these larger communities as a whole. Indigenous parents now knew that Thunder Bay wasn’t a safe place for their children—and yet they also knew that their kids would never be able to secure a truly quality education at home on their reserves. By examining the profound struggle this impossible situation creates for parents, Talaga hammers home how essential it is that more government funding and resources be allotted to these communities, so that parents don’t have to make such devastating choices (choices that echo the cruelty of the colonial residential school system).
Themes
At last, the chief coroner granted NAN the inquest into the deaths of all seven students. While the families waited for the details of the inquest to be announced, Iacobucci released his report. It determined that there was “systemic racism” all throughout the court, justice, and policing systems of the North. All the Indigenous people wanted, Iacobucci reported, was the truth—and if they didn’t get it, the mistrust between Canada and its First Nations would worsen. Any hope of reconciliation, Iacobucci warned, could soon be lost. He proposed 17 recommendations for how to fix the courts, prisons, and jury process through the creation of new committees and government positions that would oversee Indigenous issues.
Even though the government of Canada wasn’t particularly concerned with investigating the seven fallen feathers’ deaths or securing justice for the Indigenous communities across Ontario, Iacobucci’s report in many ways forced them to recognize and answer for the ongoing miscarriages of justice against Canada’s First Nations communities. Iacobucci’s report indicates widespread “systemic racism”—an obvious holdover from centuries of colonial practice. Iacobucci’s work on behalf of the First Nations communities is noble, but it is also worth noting that the creation of such a report required the participation of a powerful white Canadian.
Themes
The inquest began on October 5, 2015, in the Thunder Bay Courthouse. Dr. David Eden, the coroner originally assigned to preside over the Reggie Bushie inquest, oversaw the proceedings. He rejected Alvin Fiddler’s proposal to expand the scope of the inquest to include racism and the actions of the Thunder Bay Police. Eleven parties were granted standing at the inquest; it was expected to last eight months and include testimony from almost 200 witnesses.
Even as the inquest began, Canadian officials continued to deny Indigenous communities the chance to stand up and speak out against institutional racism at all levels of the justice and government systems.
Themes
Alvin asked Elder Sam Achneepineskum to attend the inquest in order to offer spiritual guidance to the families of the seven students. Sam was a survivor of the residential schools himself—and he was sexually abused while in the system. He is also a cousin of Chanie Wenjack, and he remembers attending school with Chanie and fantasizing together with their classmates about where they’d go if they ran away.
This passage hammers home the circular nature of generational trauma and suffering. The residential schools may have been closed—but the survivors of the system (and the relatives of those who did not survive its ravages) continue to carry the burdens of the past with them. At the same time, Sam Achneepineskum highlights the ways that the elder generations still can offer protection and support to the younger generation, and help to build a connection to the community’s spiritual past..
Themes
Sam arrived early on the first day of the inquest and found that the courtroom was insultingly small, considering all the parents and family members who were sure to arrive. He began moving furniture into the room to make sure there was enough seating for everyone. But Sam and the families couldn’t help but feel that the “scheduling gaffe” that had resulted in the tiny room was representative of how thoughtlessly the authorities had handled these seven delicate cases.
Sam’s response to the government’s clear disregard for Indigenous people’s ability to access the inquest—or sit comfortably during it—isn’t one that’s rooted in anger or bitterness or hopelessness. Instead, Sam focused on righting a wrong and delivering to his community the care they deserved. This is indicative of how Indigenous culture is rooted in a focus on justice and balance rather than retribution.
Themes
Two weeks after the inquest began, the body of a middle-aged Indigenous man was pulled from the McIntyre River on October 19, 2015. Less than 24 hours after the body was discovered, police declared the man’s death “non-criminal” and said there’d be no further investigation. Hours later, someone used his debit card. The police remained unconcerned and continued to state that the death was an accidental drowning. This death revealed beyond any shadow of a doubt that there was a clear pattern—after Indigenous bodies were found, Thunder Bay Police immediately declared the deaths unsuspicious. The police seem, to Talaga, profoundly uninterested in investigating these cases.
Even as the inquest began, more and more Indigenous people continued to die suspiciously in Thunder Bay’s rivers. The students weren’t the only ones being literally swallowed up and erased by a brutal, racist place and system that did not care about them. At this point, Talaga suggests, it seems likely that the deaths of the seven fallen feathers weren’t just accidents—they were instances of racist, colonialist violence, and the Canadian state had no interest in stopping such cruelty or standing up for Indigenous people.
Themes
As the inquest unfolded, Falconer pressed Thunder Bay staff sergeant Allan Shorrock to answer for these “knee-jerk” calls the force was making regarding Indigenous deaths. Shorrock couldn’t come up with any excuse, nor could he explain why it took more than six days for police to launch an investigation into Jethro Anderson’s disappearance. As Falconer continued to question Shorrock, Shorrock admitted that declaring “no foul play” in cases like Jethro’s without even investigating the deaths created “tunnel vision” in the police force—and that this was an ongoing pattern.
Even though Falconer forced individuals who worked for the Canadian state to admit that there was a problem with how Thunder Bay Police officers were investigating Indigenous deaths, the staff sergeant still wouldn’t speak to the deeper meaning behind the police’s lack of interest in solving cases involving Indigenous deaths.
Themes
In his closing statements on May 26, 2016, Falconer alleged that police were purposefully claiming these deaths were accidents because the investigations were bungled from the start due to apathy and racism. By immediately claiming “no foul play” in spite of cuts and abrasions being found on several of the dead students’ bodies, the police could ignore the pattern that was unfolding before their eyes. “You can’t…make it an accident by calling it an accident,” Falconer stated. He claimed that no one made enough space for these kids in life—and now, no one was making enough space for them in death, either. They died of neglect, and they continued to be neglected afterward.
In his closing statements Falconer sought to call out the police and the coroner’s office’s neglect and malfeasance. He called attention to the connection between racism and lack of support for Indigenous youth, putting the Thunder Bay Police, the coroner’s office, and the Canadian government on the spot for their unchecked prejudice and apathy toward Indigenous people.
Themes
On June 28, 2016, the inquest ended. The jury made 145 recommendations that took over two hours to read aloud—but still, the families of the seven students had no answers. Four of the seven deaths were still ruled as undetermined. To date, Talaga writes, few of those many recommendations have been carried out. Many Indigenous children are still without schools, running water, and working sewers—and when they come to cities like Thunder Bay, they still contend with racist speech and violence. Falconer contended that “an evil out there” was throwing kids into the river, targeting vulnerable, intoxicated teens who were already victims of the systems that had failed them, but little has been done to address that evil.
Even though the inquest promised to result in meaningful change for Indigenous communities, Talaga asserts that because of the larger Canadian government’s refusal to reckon with the racism that underlies modern negligence toward Indigenous people just as it motivated the more overt violence and coercion in earlier times , there still hasn’t been any real change in the wake of the inquest. Racism, Talaga contends, is nothing short of “evil”—and the evils of the past must be called out and acknowledged if Indigenous people are to secure justice in the future.
Themes
