The Library – Wednesday
The fire has burned down to glowing embers, but the conversation is heating up.
“I think people like Trudeau tried,” Roman says, leaning back against a stack of books. “But the world was too divided. It was all about who had the loudest voice, not the smartest ideas.”
Ivy Mae sighs, staring at an old, yellowed photograph she found tucked inside a book. “It’s sad. Because if they’d worked together, maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Roman shifts uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, a lot of people didn’t even get the chance to have a voice.” He pokes at the embers with a stick. “My ancestors—Haida—they had their voices stolen. My mom was taken in the Sixties Scoop. By the time I was born, she didn’t even know who she was anymore.” His voice hardens. “So I never really got the chance to learn, either.”
Silence settles over the group. They all know what it’s like to lose something—whether it’s a home, a history, or a future.
Ivy Mae runs a finger along the photograph’s edge. “My great-uncle fought in the First World War. He thought if he served, maybe he’d finally belong. But when he came back, he lost his Indian Status. He was Songhees, Sooke, Kalapuya, Iroquois, French… and it didn’t matter. They stripped it from him anyway.”
Jas frowns. “Wait, so he fought for the country, but the country just took away his rights?”
“Yeah.” Ivy Mae swallows hard. “That’s how it was. They called it ‘enfranchisement,’ like it was some kind of honor. But really, it was just a way to erase us.”
Roman exhales sharply. “That’s nothing new. They were always erasing people.”
Jas nods. “I was reading about California, how during the Gold Rush, they put bounties on Indigenous people. Straight-up genocide. Some ran north, across the 49th parallel. But even Canada wasn’t exactly safe.”
“They called it the Medicine Line,” Ivy Mae adds, staring into the fire. “Because U.S. soldiers couldn’t cross it. But that didn’t stop the settlers. Didn’t stop the Indian agents. The whole system was built to wipe us out, one way or another.”
Roman clenches his jaw. “And people like to pretend Canada was any better than the States. Like Trudeau or anyone else was going to fix it overnight. The system was built broken.”
Ivy Mae nods. “Exactly. And back then, people kept saying, ‘Never again.’ But they let it happen over and over. The Japanese internment, residential schools, the Sixties Scoop, the missing and murdered Indigenous women… The same patterns, just new excuses.”
Jas leans forward. “So if the system was broken, what would you have done? If you were there?”
Roman stares at the fire for a long moment. “I don’t know.” His voice is quiet. “I just know I wouldn’t have wanted to be silent.”
Ivy Mae looks at the old photograph one more time before tucking it into her pocket.
"Maybe that’s the real fight," she says. "Making sure the truth doesn’t disappear."
The fire crackles softly. The world outside is silent. But in the library, voices that were once stolen are finally being heard.