Innu forced into cold houses without insulation and foundations spiralled into addictions, inquiry told
Mary Pia Benuen says government workers didn't understand how warm and safe Innu tents were
The Innu lived a healthy life in large tents before they were forced into houses on the Sheshatshiu Innu reserve, starting spirals into addictions and abuse, according to an expert witness at the Inquiry Respecting the Treatment, Experiences and Outcomes of Innu in the Child Protection System.
Mary Pia Benuen, sworn in as an expert in Innu health by inquiry commissioners on Monday morning, was the first Innu nurse in Labrador and now is the Sheshatshiu Innu First Nation's primary health director.
For generations, she testified, Innu families lived in large animal hide then canvas tents at different sites throughout their homeland in Labrador.
In the 1960s, families were forced by the Newfoundland government and church officials to settle onto the reserve at Sheshatshiu so their children could attend the local schools, Benuen said, and families were threatened with the forcible removal of their children if they didn't abide.
She said the Innu were promised great homes, education for their children to grow up to be professionals, and a brighter future. She and her siblings were excited for their first house, but then winter came and the house was cold with only one wood stove for heat.
"Eventually, in the end, we had to sleep in the kitchen where there was a stove because the rooms were all frosted on the walls," she said.
Taken from the homes they knew and placed into the cold, sparse homes, many parents started to drink as alcohol flowed freely in Sheshatshiu, Benuen said. One of the driving factors of addiction was that the Innu had no autonomy over their families, she said.
"There was a lot of child abuse," Benuen said. "My dad was mad all the time.… He [would] just get mad at something and take it out on us."
A government report from 1971, written by Lloyd Hirtle and I.F. McCaw, laid out the conditions in detail. The report said the houses were built recently but had "no foundations, no insulation, no water, no sewage disposal facilities. Furnishings are sparse."
"Water is provided by two taps in the community, but the water is foul tasting, full of iron," said the report, which noted most Innu carried their water from half a mile away. There were a number of infected insect bites, and tuberculosis was a major medical problem, said the report.
Benuen said the homes of teachers in Sheshatshiu and white people in North West River had running water, indoor plumbing and heating appliances on the walls.
Innu children had two days a week at the school when they could go in and shower, she said. Parents couldn't wash their children or properly clean their homes, leading to insect bites becoming infected and the rapid spread of lice and tuberculosis in the community, Benuen said.
The Innu advocated for change and pushed for improvements, but six years later, a second government report showed no progress on the issues.
The 1977 report said the soil in the area would be "satisfactory for installation of septic tanks" and the lake, just under a kilometres away, could be used to provide a good water system, but "nothing has been done to improve the situation at all."
"In fact this community is in much worse condition than when I visited in 1971," the report said. The community got running water and sewage in the early 1980s.
Difference in forced community versus on the land
The life of the Innu was completely different on their traditional land in the country — called "nutshimit" in the Innu language — and living in tents, Benuen said. Families would go out to hunt and fish for months at a time, away from access to alcohol and able to practise and pass on their traditional ways, she said.
"That was a sacred place for the Innu. People looked after the land," Benuen said.
The Innu had autonomy when they were off the reserve, Benuen said.
"My parents were really, really healthy out there and they worked really hard for our survival," said Benuen. "They were very loving towards us."
Benuen was 14 years old when her family was threatened by government and church officials to not take the kids to nutshimit anymore or their welfare would be cut off and children shuffled into care.
"Once you're in the community, it means there is some control either by the Catholic denomination or the child welfare or some kind of a government," Benuen said. "It seems as though nutshimit is a free country."
Benuen's parents abandoned the cold house for their traditional tent in the late 1970s, she said.
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