The Indian in the Child
by Sandra Sutter, Jim Peace • June-July 2014
6 years old on his first day of school, and emotions are running high
Mom and dad are left home alone, as he bids his parents goodbye
The shiny white building in a far away place holds promise and a yet unknown fear
The footsteps this young boy will take on his own, should have been taken with family near
The weather here is changing, and dark clouds are closing in
The boy can’t withstand them for long, they remind him his skin is sin
They are sinister like the weather and like a storm that brews within
They wash away childlike innocence trying to kill the Indian in him
They tried to kill the Indian, kill the Indian in the child
They thought he was a savage, untameable and wild
They could not see the Creator’s plan for him was the same for you and me
We are meant to walk together, on the good red road of (in) beauty
Kill the Indian in the child they said and to be sure those teachers tried
No language, no family, no culture, every night he cried
A forced haircut and a cruel bath, bleaching brown skin into white
Though they tried to kill the Indian, the Indian survived
Their methods were born of ignorance, along the way the road got twisted
The boy could not do a single thing right, no matter how hard he listened
The lessons that he learned were not about writing, literature or math
What will it take before graduation for him to discover a welcoming path
They tried to kill the Indian, kill the Indian in the child
They thought he was a savage, untameable and wild
They could not see the Creator’s plan for him was the same for you and me
We are meant to walk together, on the good red road of (in) beauty
Oh Canada you failed your People, where did you go wrong?
Underneath that National Anthem, You were not true, free or strong
You built a railroad to unite this nation and sent your beautiful children to jail
They were beaten, starved and tortured, and their future was derailed
You get 9 years for rape and drug deals, 9 years for a major crime
Or 9 years in residential school to kill the Indian in the child
Generations have been affected and had to remember how to pray
To rediscover a sacred culture and find forgiveness along the way
For years he spent nights searching for a love (grace) he couldn’t find
In the walls within his prison, (and in eyes) in the eyes that had gone blind
As he found the path to forgiveness, he could leave the pain behind
The grace he knew would save him was in his heart and not his mind
Once punished for sins like laughing, jailed in chicken coops by powers that were
We are walking again on the good red road, and creating a new future
We thank the Creator for giving us life and reminding us every day
That the enemy who destroyed us once is now the friend with whom we pray
The Indian in that child is the Chief of his People today
He is leading his community, showing them grace along the way
They walk towards a new future, In this country we all share
So that his 6 year old grandchild, will have no reason to be scared
They tried to kill the Indian, kill the Indian in the child
They thought he was a savage, untameable and wild
They could not see the Creator’s plan for him was the same for you and me
We are meant to walk together, on the good red road of (in) beauty
Last time
Thank you Creator, for the grace that allowed the People to survive
You can never kill the Indian, the Indian in the child
Thank you Creator, for the grace that allowed the People to survive
You can never kill the Indian, the Indian in the child