As part of the conversation surrounding intergenerational trauma and reconciliation,

seven female leaders from different parts of Waterloo Region’s Indigenous community share their personal healing journeys, and their insights into what moving forward looks like.

Lila Marie Bruyere was six years old the day her mother took her to St. Margaret’s Residential School in Fort Francis.

By the time she was old enough to leave at age fourteen, she had built a wall inside of her, with no tools to tear it down. It echoed the same confusion, isolation and rage that her brothers had developed in residential school and passed on to her as a child, locking her up in dark cellar basements, while her parents (who never discussed their own experiences at Residential School) were in town feeding their own addictions.

Lila turned to alcohol to numb her pain. “Those were angry years. I didn’t know what to do with all of that rage. I knew I had to do something to help myself.”

In October 1988, her life turned around. A man tried to take advantage of her at a bar, and for the first time she fought back. “I let go of all of my rage and ran like crazy. After reaching home at 4 a.m., I was suicidal and couldn’t think of anyone to support me except my oldest son, so I woke him up. He screamed when he saw the condition I was in. I had bite marks all over my arms and neck, and a sore body from fighting him off,” she says. “I decided to report the man to customs, and it turned out the guy was wanted in Alabama for attempted murder. At that moment, I promised myself that I would never drink again. I always ask myself why it took a crisis like this to get serious and ask for help.”

At the age of 42, Lila began her new journey in life. She took up walking 5 km from the reserve to town, sometimes twice a day. “One morning the sun came up over Rainy Lake, the water looked like glass, and I finally saw the beauty I had not seen before. All this time, I had been walking in a cloud. I started to see things differently, and was ready to work on myself.”

Her journey began with a 28-day program at a treatment centre in Toronto, working with a counselor to understand the root of her anxieties. When Lila was not at residential school, she fell into the hands of her siblings. “I realized that I was terrified of abandonment and being alone. I couldn’t handle the idea, so I accepted anything.

“At six years old, you need your mother. My mom was gone a lot, and the separation was devastating. I would sleep holding onto one of her dresses at night.”

With the help of elders, therapists and counselors, both Indigenous and nonIndigenous, Lila has come to understand the intergenerational impacts of residential school, and how this influenced her self worth.

“I had a lot of tough people work with me, because I am a stubborn individual. I had an elder tell me that if I didn’t let go of the anger, it was going to make me sick,” she says. “I could have stayed angry and negative, I could have blamed everybody else, but I chose not to. I took a nightmare and turned it into positives. This is why I am able to heal.”

Today, Lila holds an Honours Bachelor in Social Work from Carleton University and a Masters in Social Work from Wilfrid Laurier. She and her second son Shawn Johnston received their degrees together, and were the first Indigenous mother and son to graduate from Laurier.

They have developed a workshop that discusses intergenerational trauma. “Speaking is healing. It’s a gift that Shawn and I received from Creator. When I speak publicly about my experience, I’m not only speaking for my own healing, but for other survivors who cannot speak.”

‘I spent too many years being angry. Too much time in darkness. Now, people tell me I’m always smiling. I want to share the positives, and be the light for people rather than someone who brings darkness to them. Now, I want to share.’