Boarding school memoirs of Patrick DesJarlait, compiled by Robert DesJarlait St. Mary's Church and Mission SchoolMy first school was St. Mary’s Mission Boarding School in the town of Redby. All the Ojibwe schoolchildren had to live at the school, even though our homes were half a mile away. On some weekends, we had home privileges. But during the week, we lived in dormitories and ate all our meals at St. Mary’s. Many families needed the school’s help to feed their children. Since jobs were hard to find and some people were very poor. At school, the children could eat fruits, eggs, and milk – foods that they seldom had at home. St. Mary’s also provided uniforms for children to wear. Our lives at St. Mary’s were dominated by Catholic traditions. In the mornings, we went to mass before breakfast. My teachers were nuns and priests, and they taught us about the church, as well as about the usual academic subjects. I remember that strict regulations regarding customs and language were placed on us. We were not allowed to speak to one another in Ojibwe. Growing up, we spoke only Ojibwe in our home. At school, my siblings and I would sneak into a closet and we talked in Ojibwe. Fortunately, we were never caught. (They used to wash their mouths out with soap and water if they talked Ojibwe.) My given Ojibwe name was Naagaabo (Standing in the Woods) because I was always in the woods and observing the things around me. At St. Mary’s, I was given my non-Ojibwe first name. The sisters named their charges after the saints. My brothers and I all got Irish names. Traditional Ojibwe games, dancing, and crafts were forbidden. By imposing these restrictions, the school hoped to encourage us to accept the white man’s way of life. Girls at St. Mary's Mission School Boys at St. Mary's Mission School While we were at the school, we missed our families and our homes. Sometimes my mother would let me know when she was coming to the village during the week, and I would plan to sneak out and meet her on the road. We all looked forward to the church holidays that were celebrated at St. Mary’s. Christmas was especially exciting. We usually spent a few days at home. We enjoyed our vacation, and we never looked forward to going back to the school routine. At abut the time of our move to the town of Red Lake, I was transferred from St. Mary’s to the Red Lake Boarding School. Life at the Red Lake school was similar to life in the mission school. We slept in dormitories and ate all our meals at school. Every Sunday, we marched a mile and a half to the mission for church services, even though temperatures in the winter would sometimes fall to -25° F or colder. And we were forbidden to use Ojibwe customs and language. I continued my artwork. At St. Mary’s, some of the nuns had encouraged my drawing and had given me religious subjects to sketch. But I remember having my ears pulled by the priests because I was sketching during study time. Red Lake Government Boarding School At Red Lake Boarding School, I was allowed to plan decorations for school affairs. Although my teachers at Red Lake Boarding School allowed me to sketch during study time, I don’t remember getting much encouragement from them. In those days, art was not considered a practical career for a reservation Indian. I thought that I would always live at Red Lake and that I would eventually earn my living in the lumber mill or at the fisheries. It didn’t occur to me that there was any other way of life open to me. This changed when I transferred to the Pipestone Boarding School in Pipestone. My experience at Pipestone Boarding School was an important turning point for me. During those years, I realized for the first time that there was something more than reservation life. At Pipestone we had new opportunities to meet white people and to learn about their way of life. We made extra money by doing yard work, painting, and other part time jobs for white families in town. In addition to meeting white families, I got acquainted with my Indian classmates, who came from all over the United States. Those experiences had an influence on my attitudes and plans for the future. Although the teachers at school did not encourage us to use our native languages and customs, they did accept my drawings and paintings of Ojibwe life. They encouraged my artistic abilities and took a greater interest in me than my previous teachers had taken. I was pleased also because the teachers at Pipestone were constantly giving me art projects to do. All these things added to my enjoyment of school and gave me a feeling of acceptance and confidence that had an important influence on my future career. Pipestone Boarding School Postscript: These memoirs aren’t intended to gloss over the colonized oppression wrought by boarding schools. Children were physically, mentally, emotionally, and sexually abused. Some children died at the hands of their captors. Certainly experiences differed. Although my father understood the anger many Indians had against the boarding school system, he appreciated the fact that it provided him with physical necessities and a sense of structure which he might not have received at home. Interestingly, another well-known Ojibwe artist, George Morrison, who attended the Hayward Indian Boarding School in Wisconsin, expressed similar thoughts about boarding school providing a sense of structure that allowed him to develop his artistic yearnings. In boarding school, my father lost his language as a first language. He lost his name. He was separated from his parents. He was seven years old when his mother passed away. She was a full-blood, medicine woman, and first language speaker. Her loss led to a deterioration of family life. Boarding school gave him a semblance of structure and allowed him to develop artistic skills. But the price to pay was cultural trauma – a historical trauma that was passed on to his children. We grew up without traditions and language. My trauma included alcoholism and drug abuse. But we didn’t grow up completely without knowing our heritage. His art provided the roots of identity. The transmission of cultural traditions through his visual imagery provided a way of remembering – who we were and where we came from. It was a light that shone on a path dimmed by colonialism, oppression, and institutionalized racism. To understand the historical trauma effectuated by boarding schools, one must go back to where it began. One part of the trauma is the loss of land through imposed treaties; another part is boarding schools. Boarding schools, in particular, are much more personal because our parents, or grandparents, were subjected to the devastating loss of culture. Hence, one must understand the roots of their trauma, overcome it, and work to prevent passing intergenerational trauma to succeeding generations. In this way, we reintegrate cultural well-being to ourselves, to our families, to our children, and to our communities. This is how we decolonize ourselves. Naagaabo, the artist as young man.
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AuthorEndaso-Giizhik Archives
June 2021
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