WARNING: This story contains details of experiences at residential schools.
Ejinagosi Kistabish still remembers clinging to the side of a taxi as he watched his parents drive away from Saint-Marc-de-Figuery residential school in Amos, Que. after they showed up for a visit.
Kistabish, now 75, says he still has “to cope with that scene” — the snowfall, the November chill, his tears and seven-year-old hands gripping the moving car, begging his parents to take him with them.
“They dragged me for a while and I finally fell on the ground,” said Kistabish.
“Then I started to cry again …. The director of the school, [said ‘now] you have an example that nobody will leave this place.'”
It was the first time he had seen his parents since being plucked from home months earlier.
For 10 years, Kistabish faced abuse at the hands of the school. He was made to use a name from a baptism that had been imposed by a priest when he was three days old: Richard Kistabish. But mostly, he was just called Number 44.
“As soon as I stepped in that building, they gave me the number 44,” said Kistabish.
“After a couple days they teach us how to spell our name … I said ‘Ejinagosi,’ and then I got slapped in the back of my head.”
He was told he couldn’t use any Anishinaabe words in the building and that “from now on you have to be called Richard.”
“That’s the first time I met Richard,” said Kistabish.
Decades later, Kistabish, is trying to legally change his name from Richard to Ejinagosi and finding the process onerous and costly.
In June 2021, the federal government announced that Indigenous people could reclaim their traditional names on passports and other federal government identification for free for the next five years. The Quebec government adopted the call to action in June 2022.
But Kistabish was stuck in a technicality, having to pay because his name was not legally changed at school.
Out of principle, Kistabish — the North American representative on UNESCO’s Global Task Force for the International Decade of Indigenous Languages — says he will not pay the fee. Now, Quebec’s Indigenous affairs minister is hoping to find a solution.
Baptized Richard days after his birth
In 1948 Kistabish’s mother — then seven months pregnant — was travelling when she unexpectedly went into labour and had to stop to give birth in a hospital in La Tuque, Que.
Days later, as his parents were leaving the hospital with him, they ran into a priest who forced them to baptize the baby.
“So I’ve been baptized Richard when I was three days old.”
But he says Richard has never truly been his name.
In line with his community, the Abitibiwinni First Nation, he was named when he could walk and was given a name with a corresponding responsibility — his, as a storyteller.
It was only decades later after the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s recommendations 94 calls to action that Kistabish says he was inspired to do something about it.
“Article 17 call to action was to allow survivors who lost their name to have their own name [back],” said Kistabish, adding that it took him a few years to fill out the forms because of the trauma he relived.
Indigenous affairs minister commits to finding ‘creative solution’
He says the response was “terrible” and he would have to pay for each document to get his name changed on his driver’s licence, insurance card and passport — something that could run to hundreds of dollars in all.
Kistabish is adamant he shouldn’t have to pay: “That’s not my problem. That’s not my mistake.”
It’s a small thing that could “ease” survivors’ pain, he said.
Reacting to Kistabish’s situation in an emailed statement, Quebec Indigenous Affairs Minister Ian Lafrenière said the situation of residential school survivors is of great concern to him.
He says in Kistabish’s case, he has asked officials to “find a creative solution that will enable him to recover his name, while guaranteeing that this process will be free of charge.”
The statement also said they are also working to hold an event for all survivors of the Saint-Marc-de-Figuery residential school to discuss how survivors can legally reclaim their names.
Kistabish says that’s the first time the government has been helpful about the name change, but he’s not happy being the exception to a rule.
“I wanted to have all of these survivors, [who] lost their name to recuperate their name. That’s the intention, and that’s the spirit of the Article 17,” said Kistabish.
Kahente Horn-Miller, the associate vice-president of Indigenous teaching, learning and research at Carleton University, says lots of adults are fighting a similar battle.
Horn-Miller is from Kahnawà:ke, a Kanien’kéha:ka community south of Montreal, and says that she was among the first generation of children to be given traditional Kanien’kéha names after several generations of children were stripped of them.
Horn-Miller says her mother, Kahentinetha, who attended day school, was one of them.
“Gosh, it wasn’t until maybe early teens that I realized that she had this other name, that people had been using this name, Audrey,” said Horn-Miller.
“You have this whole other naming practice and tradition,” said Horn-Miller. “In a sense we were forced to conform to these other ways of self identification.”
Kistabish says reclaiming his language and name hasn’t been easy. He’s still haunted by the priests who once punished him for uttering his name.
“When I speak my language in front of an audience, sometimes I have this reflex of like [wanting] to defend myself,” said Kistabish. “I raised my arm [as if I’ll] get hit by someone. I still have that. I’m 75 years old.”
He says he’s patient, but hopes to soon be able to see his name reflected in his wallet.
“Can you imagine?” said Kistabish. “This is the dream.”
A national Indian Residential School Crisis Line is available to provide support for survivors and those affected. People can access emotional and crisis referral services by calling the 24-hour service at 1-866-925-4419.
Mental health counselling and crisis support are also available 24 hours a day, seven days a week through the Hope for Wellness hotline at 1-855-242-3310 or by online chat.
