Showing solidarity isn’t a holiday, it’s a full-time job

Advertisement

Advertise with us

Six-year-old Phyllis Webstad proudly wore her brand new orange shirt to her first day at St. Joseph Mission Residential School in 1973.

Read this article for free:


or

Already have an account? Log in here »

To continue reading, please subscribe:

Subscribe and receive a limited-edition Free Press branded hat or tote.

Digital Subscription

One year of digital access for only $205*

  • Enjoy unlimited reading on winnipegfreepress.com
  • Read the E-Edition, our digital replica newspaper
  • Access News Break, our award-winning app
  • Play interactive puzzles

*First annual payment billed as $205.00 + GST for one year. This annual subscription will automatically renew at $233.00 + GST every 52 weeks (10% off the regular annual price of $259.35). Offer available to new and qualified returning subscribers only. Cancel any time.

To continue reading, please subscribe:

Add Free Press access to your Brandon Sun subscription for only an additional

$1 for the first 4 weeks*

  • Enjoy unlimited reading on winnipegfreepress.com
  • Read the E-Edition, our digital replica newspaper
  • Access News Break, our award-winning app
  • Play interactive puzzles
Start now

*Your next Brandon Sun subscription payment will increase by $1.00 and you will be charged $17.95 plus GST for four weeks. After four weeks, your payment will increase to $24.95 plus GST every four weeks.

Opinion

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 27/09/2021 (1812 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Six-year-old Phyllis Webstad proudly wore her brand new orange shirt to her first day at St. Joseph Mission Residential School in 1973.

The shirt, bright and shiny with a lace-up front, was a gift from her grandmother, who never had a lot of money. Phyllis picked out the shirt herself, and she was so excited to wear it.

But when she got to school, her clothes were stripped from her and never returned. She never wore her orange shirt again. “The colour orange has always reminded me of that and how my feelings didn’t matter,” Webstad later wrote, “how no one cared and how I felt like I was worth nothing.”

Author and residential school survivor Phyllis Webstad is the founder of Orange Shirt Day, which has been recognized every Sept. 30 since 2013. (Darryl Dyck / The Canadian Press files)
Author and residential school survivor Phyllis Webstad is the founder of Orange Shirt Day, which has been recognized every Sept. 30 since 2013. (Darryl Dyck / The Canadian Press files)

Today, Webstad is a residential school survivor, author and the founder of Orange Shirt Day, which has been recognized every Sept. 30 since 2013. The orange shirt is now a symbol of all that was stolen from generations of Indigenous children — their languages, their cultures, their identities, their senses of self-worth — in Canada’s system of forced assimilation.

Orange Shirt Day now shares the day with the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, which became a federal statuatory holiday this year following the spring’s harrowing discoveries of hundreds of unmarked graves at former residential schools across the country. The choice of date was intentional; according to a Government of Canada press release, it “builds on the grassroots momentum of Orange Shirt Day, which is already known as a day to remember the legacy of residential schools and move forward with reconciliation.”

Indeed, the momentum of Orange Shirt Day can be seen in the unprecedented demand for orange shirts — not just this September but for this past Canada Day as well. Orange shirts that declare every child matters still hang in people’s windows. And at many schools around the city, you can still see orange ribbons woven through chain-link fences.

Purchasing and wearing an orange shirt — and not a fake from Amazon, either — is a great way to show solidarity for residential school survivors and their families. But Orange Shirt Day cannot begin and end with that act alone. The thing about momentum is, it can slow. If we want to keep these issues of the frontburner and prevent them from fading from view, we will have to make them a priority. Every day is a day for truth and reconciliation.

For non-Indigenous people, this will require doing the hard work. It will involve interrogating your own biases and thinking about the ways in which you benefit from colonial structures. It will mean reading the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s 94 calls to action; as justice Murray Sinclair said when the calls were rolled out back in 2015, “Reconciliation is not an Aboriginal problem — it is a Canadian problem. It involves all of us.”

Non-Indigenous folks: look at the traditional media you consume with curiosity. Whose voices do we hear from most? Why is it that missing white girls tend to get more media coverage than missing brown girls? Why do we often only see stories of Indigenous trauma and struggle and not Indigenous joy and success? That goes for social media, too: who are you following? Whose voices and ideas do you engage with? Whose perspectives do you seek out?

Do you know what intergenerational trauma is? Do you have as much tenderness for the kids who came home, including those now struggling with homelessness and addiction, as you do for the ones who never did?

Are you having conversations with your kids about the residential school system? There are age-appropriate resources for little ones, including Webstad’s book Phyllis’s Orange Shirt and David Robertson’s When We Were Alone.

Are you willing to listen to the truth?

“Every child matters” isn’t just a slogan. Reconciliation requires participation and commitment. Wear orange on Sept. 30. Continue to honour your commitment every day after that.

jen.zoratti@freepress.mb.ca

Twitter: @JenZoratti

Jen Zoratti

Jen Zoratti
Columnist

Jen Zoratti is a columnist and feature writer working in the Arts & Life department, as well as the author of the weekly newsletter NEXT. A National Newspaper Award finalist for arts and entertainment writing, Jen is a graduate of the Creative Communications program at RRC Polytech and was a music writer before joining the Free Press in 2013. Read more about Jen.

Every piece of reporting Jen produces is reviewed by an editing team before it is posted online or published in print – part of the Free Press‘s tradition, since 1872, of producing reliable independent journalism. Read more about Free Press’s history and mandate, and learn how our newsroom operates.

 

Our newsroom depends on a growing audience of readers to power our journalism. If you are not a paid reader, please consider becoming a subscriber.

Our newsroom depends on its audience of readers to power our journalism. Thank you for your support.

Report Error Submit a Tip

More Stories

Showing solidarity isn’t a holiday, it’s a full-time job

Jen Zoratti 4 minute read Preview

Showing solidarity isn’t a holiday, it’s a full-time job

Jen Zoratti 4 minute read Monday, Sep. 27, 2021

Six-year-old Phyllis Webstad proudly wore her brand new orange shirt to her first day at St. Joseph Mission Residential School in 1973.

The shirt, bright and shiny with a lace-up front, was a gift from her grandmother, who never had a lot of money. Phyllis picked out the shirt herself, and she was so excited to wear it.

But when she got to school, her clothes were stripped from her and never returned. She never wore her orange shirt again. “The colour orange has always reminded me of that and how my feelings didn’t matter,” Webstad later wrote, “how no one cared and how I felt like I was worth nothing.”

Today, Webstad is a residential school survivor, author and the founder of Orange Shirt Day, which has been recognized every Sept. 30 since 2013. The orange shirt is now a symbol of all that was stolen from generations of Indigenous children — their languages, their cultures, their identities, their senses of self-worth — in Canada’s system of forced assimilation.

Read
Monday, Sep. 27, 2021

Canadians loving Carney’s decision to stand tall against floundering U.S. bully

Tom Brodbeck 5 minute read Preview

Canadians loving Carney’s decision to stand tall against floundering U.S. bully

Tom Brodbeck 5 minute read Friday, Sep. 11, 2026

It’s hard to imagine a more dramatic political contrast than the one unfolding on opposite sides of the Canada-U.S. border.

Mark Carney is fighting a trade war with Donald Trump, taking the occasional verbal punch from the American president and imposing retaliatory tariffs on U.S. products.

And the prime minister is being rewarded for it politically.

Trump, meanwhile, is fighting pretty much everyone he can find — including some of America’s closest allies — and his own voters are increasingly giving him the political equivalent of a raised middle finger. That’s quite a tale of two leaders.

Read
Friday, Sep. 11, 2026

Puzzles Palace

1 minute read Monday, Jul. 27, 2026

To solve our puzzles, please subscribe with this special offer: |

Citizen reports help highlight connectivity issues across southwest Manitoba

Nicole Buffie 5 minute read Preview

Citizen reports help highlight connectivity issues across southwest Manitoba

Nicole Buffie 5 minute read Updated: Yesterday at 10:43 AM CDT

A southwestern Manitoba man has created a map to document cell service blackout spots in an effort to push for better access in rural areas.

Mark Custance compiled more than 300 citizen reports over the last few months to document where service in southwest Manitoba is strong, spotty or doesn’t exist at all.

“I’ve heard people complain and say, ‘cell service sucks’ or ‘this is not working.’ But what does the data actually say?” Custance said from his office in Melita, where he has installed a cell-service booster to maintain connectivity with the rest of the world.

Analyzing where service is good and poor, he cross-references it with the location of cellphone towers across the region.

Read
Updated: Yesterday at 10:43 AM CDT

Goodness alive, well in N.L.-set musical

Jen Zoratti 4 minute read Preview

Goodness alive, well in N.L.-set musical

Jen Zoratti 4 minute read Yesterday at 2:01 AM CDT

I first saw Come From Away — the true-story musical about the incredible efforts of the residents of Gander, N.L. on Sept. 11, 2001, who welcomed nearly 7,000 travellers diverted to their remote town after the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon — in 2022, when Broadway Across Canada brought it to the Centennial Concert Hall.

I went in cold, but with blunted expectations; it seemed, on premise alone, like it could tilt too far into shmaltzy sentimentality, that it would be too earnest in its goodness.

So, when I wept until my face was as wet and salty as though it had been slapped by the waves of the North Atlantic, I was pleasantly surprised. I loved it. It’s emotional, yes. It’s sentimental, yes. But you can’t help but feel both buoyed — and, dare I say, patriotic — by the end of it.

Written by Canadians Irene Sankoff and David Hein, Come From Away seemed an unlikely hit when it opened on Broadway in 2017. But there was, by then, an appetite for it.

Read
Yesterday at 2:01 AM CDT

Retired sportscaster Scott Oake determined as fundraising for women's addictions treatment facility enters home stretch

Melissa Martin 4 minute read Preview

Retired sportscaster Scott Oake determined as fundraising for women's addictions treatment facility enters home stretch

Melissa Martin 4 minute read Thursday, Sep. 10, 2026

For now, the patch of land just east of the Victoria Hospital doesn’t look like much: just a field of rocks, mounded dirt, and concrete piles driven into the earth. Yet when Scott Oake looks over the site, he can already imagine how it will look in just over a year’s time, when the new Anne Oake Family Recovery Centre is expected to open.

It’s easier to picture this time around. In 2020, when the recently-retired CBC sportscaster and his late wife, Anne, were building their first labour of intermingled grief and love, the Bruce Oake Recovery Centre for men, it was hard for him to wrap his mind around how a raw construction site could transform into a welcoming addictions treatment facility.

When that centre opened in 2021, Oake found it looked “almost identical” to the architect’s renderings. So it’s easy to hope the Anne Oake Centre will be the same. It will be the first facility of its kind, its founders believe, not only in Canada but in North America: a place where 50 to 70 women can pursue sobriety while staying with their children.

“At Bruce Oake there’s a culture of love, and most of all a culture of hope,” Oake said, speaking at the site Thursday after a media conference to announce the final push of the centre’s fundraising campaign. “I can feel it every time I walk into that building. And I know it will be the same here.”

Read
Thursday, Sep. 10, 2026