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Pope Francis waves as he leads the Angelus prayer from his window, at the Vatican, on July 17.VATICAN MEDIA/Reuters

Chief Robert Joseph is a residential school survivor, Gwawaenuk elder and the winner of the Indspire Lifetime Achievement Award. His book Namwayut – We Are All One: A Pathway to Reconciliation will be released in September.

Last month, my son Farrell and I took two ferries, the first to Vancouver Island and the other from there to Quathiaski Cove on Quadra Island in our Kwakwakaʼwakw homelands. We were there to spend time with Alberta Billy, a Lig̱wiłdax̱w We Wai Kai Elder, and one of my dearest relatives. We knew that Berta’s window of time in this land was closing, and that she would soon be crossing over to greet our ancestors.

As we held her hand for the last time and gently spoke to her spirit, I thought back on this brave woman’s life.

Berta stood alone in blazing the path that we are now on, the path of reconciliation. It was she who, in 1985, first called on Canada’s religious bodies to apologize for their role in the horror that was the residential school system. She stood up for survivors, and stood up to the churches, and asked them to atone for their role in Indigenous cultural, spiritual and linguistic loss.

In many ways, she succeeded. The United Church was the first to stand up, and in 1986 they presented an apology to the Native Ministries Council. The Anglican Church followed in 1993.

It is now 2022, and the Roman Catholic Church is suggesting that Pope Francis will renew his effort to apologize on the site of our homelands after beginning that process in April of this year. And yet it is now close to 40 years after Berta asked Pope John Paul II to apologize. There is a reason that many survivors are angry. The Church has been stonewalling, and the pressure has built up.

But this apology, no matter what form it takes, gives me hope.

The reason for this is a simple one: The Pope’s apology is a confession, an admission.

As a survivor, I know that if somebody confesses that they abused me, more people will believe my lived experience. That truth becomes the truth. Confession of guilt, of remorse for one’s actions, therefore, is on the side of right. All apologies have a significance because all pathways to truth should be explored.

It is only when the truth is revealed through confession that the grieving parties, those of us who have been hurt, can heal. This is not to say that there must not also be a response beyond words to provide space or resources for healing. But there needs to be that first step forward. When the Pope apologizes, that small effort will liberate our minds, elevate our hearts even a little bit.

With respect to the Pope’s visit to our homelands, of course it is a symbolic gesture. In my selfishness, I would say he should come to British Columbia, where some of the most significant efforts for reconciliation have been made. But no matter where he travels, it is his sincerity and his efforts to meet survivors where they live that will be important.

In 2008, I was present when prime minister Stephen Harper confessed his government’s apology. Many doubted his sincerity at the time. But it was enough, for me, to hear him say those words. For the elected leader of a country to confess to all Canadians was enough: He was validating our harm and losses.

This time, the Pope will confess to the millions of Canadians who are Catholic, and to the entire world. These are important revelations. And, if we’re generous of spirit, maybe we will allow the Pope’s words to be received and felt sincerely.

By hearing this apology, we may begin to increase our faith in humanity bit by bit. The walls of resistance may recede in small ways. Indigenous peoples and all Canadians will begin to want to hear more about each other, to trust each other, to build a shared community. We won’t all heal at the same time, but we can carry this message of hope that one day we will be healed.

In confession, there is a lot more accountability than just words. What happens after that day will present a greater opportunity than the day before.

On June 13, 2022, Alberta Billy passed on to the world of spirit. For her efforts as an Indigenous leader and activist, I will listen to the Pope’s words with the reverence that I owe her and all survivors. “Our people need healing,” she told me once. “And the way I can heal myself is to make sure that every single person understands what happened to our children and families.”

For all survivors and for all Canadians, I will hear Pope Francis’s confession.

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