From the Shores of the Ottawa River

“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” — Albert Camus

In this chapter, I write about my sister Rose, the strongest person I know. She is dynamic, fearless, and deeply committed to protecting both people and the land. Her life has been marked by struggles. No one should ever have to endure these struggles. Yet, she carries herself with courage, compassion, and a fire that refuses to be extinguished.

I remember once driving her to Parliament Hill in Ottawa. She wanted to protest what was happening to the land. She was concerned about the people living downstream from Fort McMurray. She was the lone protester, undeterred by being just one voice among many. She walked straight up to the RCMP officers. She asked if it was okay for her to protest on the Hill. They asked how many people were with her. “Just me,” she replied without hesitation. They smiled and said, “Yes, and anyone else who wants to join you is welcome.” That was Rose. She stood her ground and was fearless. She was willing to carry the weight of justice on her own shoulders if necessary.

Rose has always cared deeply for the underdog, for those who had no voice. She has endured unimaginable hardship, yet she has always kept her heart open. She cares for people fiercely, and I know she cares for me.

When she was sent to Indian residential school, her defiance and strong spirit made her a target. She refused to be broken. Her attitude led to her being transferred to the Alberta Hospital, a mental institution. Not because she was mentally ill, but because they thought it was the only way to crush her spirit. There, she was subjected to electric shock therapy, one of the cruelest tools used to break children. But they failed.

Our older brother Freddy went directly to the Alberta Hospital and secured her release. Still, the trauma she endured could have destroyed her. Instead, she survived. She came through those horrors determined to live fully, to claim her dignity, and to build a meaningful life.

Rose went on to graduate from university and became a teacher in northern communities. She carried her strength into classrooms, giving young Indigenous children hope, encouragement, and a reflection of their own resilience. She taught not only lessons in reading and writing, but also lessons in survival, healing, and cultural pride.

She has carried heavy burdens, but she has also carried light. She is a matriarch in every sense. Her life a testimony to what survival means: not just to endure, but to transform pain into power.

Rose is a survivor with an indomitable spirit. She reminds me, and all who know her, that survival is not about merely staying alive. It is about refusing to let the forces of destruction define who we are. She stood against systems meant to silence her, and she emerged as a voice, a teacher, and a warrior.

Her story is not just her own. It is the story of our people: resilient, unbroken, and still here.