Yes, I believe so, because the VAC agent who answered the phone when I reached out for help didn't really have a grasp of the policies and procedures available for a situation like that. We were swept under the carpet. Of course, the eventuality was his death.
I needed help myself. This is where I didn't have a good experience. I needed aftercare, counselling and bereavement support. I was put in touch—I can't remember what program it was—with a peer. However, it was not a peer. A civilian woman called me, not a veteran and not even a currently serving member of the forces. To me, that is not a peer. On top of that—and I apologize—she was not indigenous. When you're in a situation like that, you don't want to have to start, at the point of contact, explaining what happened to you along the way. She had no clue about military service. She had no clue about being an indigenous person.
The point I'm trying to make is that the Assembly of First Nations and Aboriginal Veterans Autochtones have advocated for a peer support service that could be indigenous veterans helping indigenous veterans. This was brought out in Saskatchewan. It is called the Burns Way. You may have heard the horrible story of the James Smith Cree massacre, where veteran Earl Burns was killed. There was a program called the Burns Way made in his honour. It's an online application that puts you directly in touch with an indigenous veteran in 24 hours.
I didn't even care if it was a male veteran who phoned me, as long as it was an indigenous veteran.