We sat in the bleachers of a Côte-des-Neiges baseball field with Eagle Eye. There, illuminated by the stadium lights, she tells us about her recent return to this neighbourhood she considers her home.
“Even though, actually, I was born in the Yukon.”
We then ask her why she chose Montreal as her adopted land, but we quickly understand that there was neither choice nor welcome in this equation.
“I was stolen from my parents when I was 5 years old. I was forced onto three planes. The first, from my village in the Yukon to Yellowknife. Then from Yellowknife to Toronto. And from Toronto to Montreal.”
Eagle Eye is one of too many victims of what history now calls the Sixties Scoop: a Canadian political effort that kidnapped thousands of Indigenous children with the aim of redistributing them to white families across the country. And while we speak of it in the past tense, know that this past is not so distant. These horrors took place under the eyes of residents in all provinces until 1977.
“They’ve only just started trying to make amends by sending us money. To silence us more than anything else.”
She takes a short pause, as if trying to find the best way to express her thoughts, but ultimately settles on the essential.
“Fuck your money.”
Yet, despite this brief outburst of very understandable bitterness, Eagle Eye is smiling, sharp-witted, and grateful to still sometimes encounter people with their hearts in the right place. Because as strong as she is, she admits that mutual aid is needed to get through the tougher moments. Especially as a woman, Indigenous, without all the necessary bureaucratic documents to access safety.
“If I were white and francophone, I’d be the priority, but when I ask for help, no matter the situation, I’m told it’s my own fault I’m in this position. Look at what happened to Joyce. And so many others.”
She turns and looks at the mobile clinic behind us.
“At least there are places like this. These clinics should be everywhere.”
We couldn’t agree more.