‘Still Here’: Grace and Christina on Truth, Healing and Reconciliation

The National Day for Truth and Reconciliation means many things to many people. For some, it brings back memories of harm and loss. For others, it offers a sense of being seen and heard. The truth is that feelings around this day are as varied as the histories and families it touches. 

In conversation with Grace Tait and Christina Campbell, members of our Indigenous Initiatives and Engagement team, we hear both the weight of truth and the persistence of hope. Both are intergenerational survivors, and their words remind us that reconciliation is not about a single day. It is about daily commitments, systemic change and cultural revitalization. 

The weight of history 

Grace shared that in her family, experiences of residential schools ripple across generations. 

“One family member went through the system but still carried joy. Another was taken at a very young age, and had to go through painful stories again and again during compensation hearings. We’re always asked to share our traumas,” she said. 

The impacts are lasting. “Your body remembers these things. Four out of five of my relatives use walkers. My father was violent as a result of what he endured. Survivors and their children carry it in different ways. And yet, there are still not enough supports. We wait, we are profiled, we re-experience violence and we carry this exhaustion.” 

Christina echoed that truth. “Grace and I are the first generation in our families not to attend residential school. Our fathers went. Our grandparents went. That’s not ancient history.” 

For both, the message is clear: Reconciliation is not about the distant past. It is about the ongoing structures and inequities of today. 

Systems that fail, communities that adapt 

Grace pointed to systemic gaps that make daily survival harder. “We need more counselling, more treatment beds, more culturally safe spaces.” 

She also reflected on the system’s current failures, particularly the way children continue to be separated from their families and placed in care. “Every month, hundreds of kids go missing from placements. Who is keeping track? What happened to them? Are they alive? We cannot pretend this is in the past when children are disappearing right now.” 

The crisis of missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls, Two-Spirit and gender-diverse people weighs heavily too.  

“Why weren’t we angry when a child was found dead after fleeing care?” Grace asked. “We need to talk about these things, even if they are hard. We need to start with ourselves, our friends and our colleagues.” 

Yet in the midst of these systemic failings, Indigenous communities find ways to support one another. The Downtown Eastside, where both Grace and Christina walk closely with community, holds pain but also resilience.  

“It’s a struggling neighbourhood, but people support people. There is so much talent, so many stories and traditions,” Grace said. “Places like YWCA Crabtree Corner matter. Indigenous-friendly services matter.” 

Culture as healing 

Both women emphasized that culture is not only heritage but medicine, a source of strength and healing. Learning what has been passed down is important, even if the teachings are not always explained. 

“Our communities are reclaiming back what was lost,” Christina said. 

“Sometimes there is shame in not knowing, but I remind myself that after 150 years of what government and churches did to our people, it’s amazing we still carry so much language, art and knowledge.” 

Grace agreed: “Culture and therapy together saved my life. Meeting cultural healers has been a huge benefit. Taking positive steps is scary, but healing is possible.” 

Even small practices hold power. Christina beamed as she showed an orange-shirt pin she beaded. “Organizations like ours should be speaking about this year-round. Not only about the horrors of residential schools, but also about how they continue to shape our lives today. It is not our fault. It is systemic problem.” 

A call to reflection and action 

On September 30, both women approach the day with intention. Christina spends time with her father. “We are gentler with him. We think about our ancestors. We appreciate one another and our resilience.” 

For others, she believes it should be a day of reflection. “Think about your own biases. Think about how you benefit from systems built on the oppression of Indigenous Peoples.” 

Grace added: “What I look forward to most is celebrating that we are still here. Our youth are the fastest growing population. My band has doubled in size in the last 15 years.” 

Both resist the dismissal they often hear. Grace continued, “People say ‘get over it.’ But memory matters. We don’t tell Americans to get over 9/11. We don’t tell Holocaust survivors it never happened. Remembering is important. Survivors want to keep memory alive, to support each other through it.” 

They also challenge others to move beyond sympathy to action. “Attend an event. Read something. Watch a documentary. There are many ways to learn,” Christina urged. “Larry Grant’s new book, Reconciling, offers one perspective: a Musqueam man’s story of resilience.” 

Within and beyond the YWCA 

Both Grace and Christina see opportunity inside the organization. They want to see the YWCA model accountability. “We can’t do this alone. It can’t be two of us holding it. The whole organization needs to step up, and it’s heartening to see the leaders in our organization like Erin, our CEO, doing so,” Grace said.   

They also see possibility in storytelling and celebration. Events that honour survivors and intergenerational survivors and celebrate Indigenous strength, culture and resurgence, like the YWCA’s annual Rhythms of Resilience, matter. These are important not only for survivors and their families, but for community members too. “People deserve spaces to celebrate culture, to share their talents and stories,” Grace said. 

Reflections

Grace and Christina’s truths are not easy to hear, but they are necessary. They remind us that reconciliation is not about one day. It is about choices made every day, in health systems, child welfare, organizations and communities. 

For all the heaviness, there is also joy and humour. The conversation wound down with laughter about T-shirt slogans. It was a reminder that survival itself is brilliance. That carrying language, art, ceremony and knowledge forward in the face of genocide is brilliance. 

As Grace put it: “We need to keep pushing. Not every year, but every month, we grow stronger and braver. We have uniqueness that we should embrace. And we are still here.”