Mr. Chair, I said this earlier today and I will say it again. We often find ourselves in this place speaking, sometimes yelling, crying, kicking and screaming. Today, we are here, yet again, to speak about the condition of genocide in Canada, a condition that is pervasive, mysterious at times and one that continues to kill Canadians right across this country.
It harms indigenous nations. It silences them at times of need and, worse, it leaves those who are most vulnerable behind. The kinds of things that we see when we speak of the genocide that we are experiencing in Canada are directly related to things that every single Canadian can relate to: their love of a child, their mom or a grandparent.
Imagining the worst outcomes for them, even for just a moment, can be heartbreaking. Imagine, all those years ago, in 1867, a declaration in this place to usurp the authority, title and lands of indigenous people right across the country, and then being met by hostile wars as this country travelled west, forcing through its railroad.
In the words of Sir John A. MacDonald, he was going to bind this country together with two bands of steel. He forgot to mention that he was going to bring a bunch of guns too.
Along that railroad was the destruction of the bison. It carried with it settlement, residential schools, homophobia and misogyny.
What we have found brought to our lands in the west, in Treaty 6 territory, was a remarkable challenge. We have seen starvation. We have seen disease and we were forced into a position in which, ultimately, Canada would attempt to have us cede the land.
To me, just being a native kid from northern Alberta, how do I find myself in this truth? How do indigenous people across this country find themselves in this truth?
They find themselves in this truth when they are faced with policing that discriminates against them. They are faced with that reality when they are picked up on the street and told they are too poor, so they are going to go to jail. They face that truth when simply trying to feed their families and are told that they are unfit parents and lose access to their children.
This is not a genocide of 100 years ago. This is a genocide of today. That is why it pains me to stand in this place yet again. Where is everyone?
These are words that I will speak time and time and time again, even if Canadians and their MPs, in particular the ones from the Liberal and Conservative benches, will not listen. I will still keep speaking this truth.
It may be politically inconvenient at times but this is the truth we must speak. One thing that is greater than our own partisan games is truth, whether that truth is spoken today or 100 years from now. Our ancestors knew that truth.
They knew that truth, which is why they came together. They came together to speak that truth, to share their reality and to reopen wounds manifested in the truth and reconciliation commission, to which our elders, who were once children, had to recount the memories of being tortured, of seeing little kids try to run away and freezing to death, of seeing their mothers taken advantage of and beaten in the streets.
This is not the Canada Canadians expect. There have always been two great sins in our country. One great sin are the things that we have done to first nations, Métis and Inuit: incarceration, reserves, the shooting of dog teams, the taking away of languages from children.
The other great sin in this country is that it failed to tell Canadians the truth. Members in this place stood up so honourably, claiming the betterment of our people, right under the noses of so many good-willed Canadians who would believe those lies. They would believe that they were doing something good.
We have an opportunity in our country. Poundmaker, a great chief, who was a rebel chief from my place in Alberta and Saskatchewan said that there are but two paths afforded to us, one that looks back and one that looks forward.
Indigenous people are in a place now where we must see how far we have come and know that, although we are bruised, although we bleed and although there are those who may call us weak, we are the exact opposite. We are strong because we have elders to remind us of those stories. We are strong because we have children who remind us of how blessed we are.
To share a quick note of love in this place, I have found serious challenges in being a member of Parliament in here. However, what keeps me going so many times are the words and advice of my elders and of people who are here today. The member for Winnipeg Centre, when I had my first anxiety attack in this place, present with such terrible rhetoric from both the government and the official opposition, said to me that I have a right to joy. What a profound statement that is, and it is a statement that indigenous people far too often never get to hear. It is a statement that, although innocent in its nature, is rooted in a kind of fear and reality that is so present among indigenous people today that they even forget to speak of it.
I want to take an opportunity now to speak about how indigenous people have led the way. Although we are here to talk about Indigenous Services Canada and the lack of support that we see in its programs and services, I want to highlight the strength of indigenous people, who are doing the good work and surviving even without it.
I grew up in a small community in the northeast of Alberta called the Fishing Lake Métis Settlement. It is an indigenous Métis reserve for Métis people in Alberta. It is the only community like it. We are adjoined to federal reserves. The one I am adjoined to is the Frog Lake First Nation. There, I grew up very poor, not knowing whether there was ever going to be anything in the fridge. I grew up not knowing exactly where I would be getting the next opportunity to see my family. I grew up not knowing when I would have the opportunity to see the uncles who are on such a difficult survival trail on their own, or whether I would see the women in my life ever again. However, what I did find in that place, growing up in these communities, was something we do not speak about enough in this place. Given the fact that we have so much poverty, we never mention that we have so much love. We have love in these communities. There were people in my community who had nothing, but who gave me a piece of bannock when my family had none. They were there when my dad was killed on a work site, and they were all there to offer what little they had. That is the kind of love and the kind of community that indigenous people have today.
We are not weak; we are the exact opposite. We are loving, we are kind and we are brave. Even though this place would seek to continue to destroy us, I know that the indigenous people who show up for their community members, who still have nothing, will continue to do so. I have full faith that they will continue to show up for one another.
This is not a speech for the Liberals. It is not a speech for the Conservatives. It is a speech to my fellow Canadians and to my relatives, saying that we are strong and that, although there may be issues we fight today, our ancestors always knew we would be there tomorrow. My commitment to them today, is that they will continue to be there tomorrow.
I want to highlight some of the successes of indigenous people and their strength, bravery and courage. Indigenous people, just last week at the Assembly of First Nations, did something remarkable: They joined the chorus of Canadians, people right across this country, in demanding a permanent ceasefire in Gaza. They are demanding the release of Israeli prisoners, hostages, and also the release of Palestinian prisoners. They are demanding that there be a humanitarian corridor, and they are invoking indigenous solidarity. Although these may seem like only words, they are truly historic, and indigenous nations have not just been cast to the history books; they are still here. We are still here, and we will continue to stand for indigenous people here and right across the globe, now and forever.