The Agenda with Steve Paikin (Audio) - How Do We Confront the History Beneath Our Feet?

Episode Date: October 1, 2026

What happens when an Indigenous burial ground is uncovered in a city? Reporter Gabrielle McMann examines who decides what happens next and the questions municipalities face. Then, we travel to Garden River First Nation to uncover the story of the men behind the "This Is Indian Land" message painted on a train bridge more than 50 years ago. And residential-school Survivor and Orange Shirt Day co-founder Phyllis Webstad reflects on her story, the meaning of the orange shirt, and the movement it inspired across Canada.Donate Today : https://tvo.me/See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

What a difference a year can make. When you support TVO, you're helping bring trusted stories, inspiring ideas, and lifelong learning to people across Ontario. And as a thank you, you can receive the 2027 TVO calendar. Filled with beautiful photography from the documentaries and programs your support helps make possible. It's a year-long reminder of the learning, beauty, and discovery your generosity supports. Donate $40 or more to claim yours today at TVO.com. Me slash calendar 2027 and make every month a little more inspiring. Every September 30th, Canada marks the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation.

But you may know it better by another name, Orange Shirt Day. And it was called that before there was a federal holiday. Because of a story Phyllis Webstead told that an event in 2013 about what happened on her first day at a residential school in British Columbia when she was just six years old. We talked to her about how an orange shirt sparked a movement and the challenges that movement faces with residential school denials. We also dig into a question, how do we reckon with history and its ongoing impact on indigenous communities? Here in Toronto, the discovery of an indigenous burial ground is raising questions about how these sites should be protected and who should decide what

happens next. And in Garden River First Nation, we look at how four words painted on a railway bridge half a century ago became a rallying cry for Indigenous pride. I'm Jay and Jaganovon. Welcome to the rundown. Back in 2024, a construction crew working on a waterline in Toronto uncovered remains from an indigenous burial ground. The discovery stopped their work, but it raised a much bigger question. When an indigenous burial site is uncovered in a city, who decides what happens next. Gabriel Blinkman, great to have you on the rundown. How are you doing? I'm good. How are you? I'm doing well. You spent just under a year at the local, an online magazine, as a journalism fellow.

And much of that time was spent writing, researching about an indigenous burial site on Withrow Avenue, that's in Toronto's East End for our viewers who are not familiar with the area. How were the ancient human remains first discovered? Yeah, it's actually really interesting. So, A local resident who lived in the area for many, many years was just on his regular route home when he noticed a construction pit in the sidewalk. So he just tried to kind of step around it and the ground gave way he fell in. Construction crews actually had to come and help him up. But before they did, he actually saw something kind of in the dirt and he pulled it out.

And he just threw it up and didn't think anything of it. And then I don't know why or how they decided to like investigate. what he'd thrown up, but it ended up being an ancient indigenous remains. Now, I understand those were not the first human remains found there. And we'll talk a little bit about the process as to what happened with this current discovery. But what happened when those earlier discoveries were made? Yeah, so across the street, there was a pretty well-documented archaeological site that was discovered. I can't quite remember one, but it was many years ago.

So the city knew that this was a very archaeologically rich area. And so they kind of put a sign up, and now there's a school there. So what they did find was taken from the site, and then they kind of put a memorial up there. But yeah, it was well known that this area was very rich historically, archaeologically, and so it's actually pretty interesting that construction crews dug before they actually did an assessment of the area, which is usually required when you know something has a lot of ancient artifacts that have been found in the area. So yeah. Here we are 2026. What does that site look like right now and with Row? Yeah. So the last that I checked in was earlier this year when I was doing my story,

and it was still, like, it looked the same as it did a few years ago. So to the outside, looking in, there's not been a lot of movement on the site, but to the people that are working on the site and the First Nations that are involved. They've spent years coming to an agreement about how the investigation is going to go, what it's going to look like. And so I think just last year, last summer, they started moving forward with the investigation, and so they're still working on that. Okay.

I should correct myself, 2024 is when that site sort of was discovered there. Let's take a, this is an interesting part. I really want to know the historical relationship between archaeology and indigenous communities in Ontario. Because there is this story of an arrest that I was reading and I was like, wait, hold on. This kind of was a sort of watershed moment for those two parties. So tell me a little bit about that. Yeah.

So in 1976, in Grimsby, Ontario, Walter Kenyon and a team from the ROM were notified of some remains that were found on a property. And so they sent their team over there, as usual, you know, to do investigation. and while they were in the middle of working actually, the Union of Ontario Indians put Walter Kenyon under citizens' arrest for failure to follow the Cemetery's Act, which they basically argued that the way that he approached the investigation and without consulting the First Nations,

it was an indignity to the remains. And so I think this was a really important moment because it kind of signified that First Nations weren't going to stand by while their ancestors and while their remains were being unmasked and kind of taken without their consultation and without their involvement. And I think that's a really significant moment when it comes to archaeology. The findings were split between the ROM and then First Nations. So that's, yeah. For viewers weren't familiar with it, what should they know about it and its significance when we talk about protecting indigenous burial sites?

I think there's a few important things here. So first of all, I mean, it is an area where we can look at Toronto's history, which I think is really cool. And I think that's always important to remember is that our city and the place that we live, work and play in is built on so many layers of history. But in terms of what we should remember when we're looking at burials is so many first. First Nations, our ancestors have been taken from the place that they rest. And I think it's hard because so many of our ancestors are in museums or in boxes, in basements of museums or institutions. And that's not a place for our ancestors to be.

And so with a site like Withrow, you know, the First Nations are still figuring out what, what that looks like for the ancestors that were uncovered there. but it's a duty of care. It's respecting the people who came before us who wouldn't be here without our ancestors, and First Nations try to honor and respect that in our everyday lives. And so that goes as well for investigations. You mentioned duty of care, and so I do have to ask,

particularly with this site, I think a lot of people, when they hear about it, there is some frustration about the lack of movement, as we mentioned. And you talk a little bit about why it takes so long, and, you know, particularly with this type, from what I understand, there's a number of nations that are involved in it. Can you tell me a little bit about that? But also, is the delay necessarily a bad thing? Yeah.

So with something like this, you know, it takes a long time because first nations are independent, sovereign nations. And on Withrow, we have 11 First Nations that are involved in collaboration and conversations. and so most of them are, you know, they've worked together in the past on other sites, like they're very familiar with this, but it still takes time. And for a site like Withrow, the city is also kind of limited to Canadian winters. And so, yeah, they have, you know, been slow to move on this investigation, which I totally understand people being frustrated. It is tax dollars that are being spent.

but I think it's also showing that we don't have a system in place to, when a site like Withrop pops up, which it has in the past, and I'm sure it will in the future, like Toronto is kind of ever developing. But it just shows that we don't really have a system in place to efficiently deal with, you know, an investigation that involves collaboration and consultation with First Nations that can kind of move along quicker. Like we're still in the process of developing this. And I think Withrow is kind of a learning point for the city because it is a lot of money. It is a lot of time. And they've definitely received a lot of backlash.

Why is this story so important to you? You're mixed in way. Toronto Nessori isn't home for you. Like you moved in here and you talk about the layers of stories here. But why is this so important for you? Well, I thought it was really important because I've seen so many news stories and so many people covering this.

And like I was kind of saying, we don't have a system, but it's not a bad thing for it to take time. I think it's in a society where everything is based on fast-paced and let's get it done efficiently and quickly and cheaply. I think it's good to stop and pause and do things the right way. And so I saw a lot of coverage happening, and that was one of the reasons why I was like, okay, the story's not done here.

because people need to understand that it's taking time for a reason. And in First Nations, we say doing things in a good way, which means like kind of leading with good intentions, good heart. And that's what's happening here. And so I wanted to highlight that. But I also thought as someone who's mixed Ojibwe from the Mississaugas of the Credit First Nation, which means my First Nation holds the treaty to Toronto. I didn't have an in-depth understanding of my history,

which is, you know, I knew I wasn't the only, And I was like, if I can't make this connection and I don't have an understanding of this history, you know, imagine the thousands of Torontoians whose only interaction with this history is through a land acknowledgement. Like, they also must have a gap. So I thought it'd be a good starting point for people in Toronto to build a new understanding of our city. Very quickly, if you could tell policy makers one thing about how Ontario approaches the uncovering and protection of indigenous burials, what would it be? I think looking at the Bobby Point Heritage District. So I got to speak to municipal leaders that are kind of working on this particular plan. And it's looking at archaeologically rich area and before development happens,

before any shovels to the ground, they've already made it a plan to protect the remains, the history. And it's the first of its kind. So, yeah, just in short, looking at what they've done over at Bobby Point, I think, is a good way to move forward and how we should be thinking in the future. Gabby, I really appreciate your time. Thank you so much for your insights. Thank you for your story. Thank you. Thank you for having me.

In 1973, a message turned up painted on a train bridge in Garden River First Nation, just east of Sue St. Marie. And for 50 years, the origin was a mystery. But now the men responsible have come forward. We traveled to Garden River First Nation to hear their story. One evening, it was fall and it was getting dark. When my brother come and walk us up and says, we're going to do something, we're going to put a sign here. Where are we going to put this sign?

He said, down there. And we locked down there. Willie, how the heck we're going to get down there? He said, well, that's why I brought that rope and that board. He started wrapping his rope around the board. They were tightening it as much as he could. All we were doing, painting something on the bridge. One will sit on the board and start painting, and the rest of us will hold them.

There was Keith Busno, there was Bob Busno, there was Willie Busno, there was Scott LaSage, there was Andre Lesage, and there was Lucky LaSage, seven of us. We were the original artist. So okay you guys he says lower me down. Hand on rope, no safety, no nothing, just over the edge. Just a twine rope with a two by four between your legs. They built a Hoover dam like that. And what is the statements that we're going to do?

I mean, we didn't have nothing written down on paper or anything like that. It does us a little while to do it. A couple hours because it's not exactly easy hanging over the edge of a bridge. Starting off with this. And he wrote I-S and then they pulled me back. Pull me back up and they put the next guy down. And finished that word. Pulled everybody up, okay, now we move over.

Willie, we're still doing. What are we putting here? I'll spell it out. Indian. 1973, it was Indian. Red power. And finally, land. And we said to ourselves, don't say nothing.

We kept it a secret 47 years. Garden River First Nation in northern Ontario is an Ojibwe community with a history stretching back generations. Today, a piece of art created by a group of community members decades ago remains a visible part of that history. It was a time of discovery, and it was a time of finding out where we belonged in the world. Garden River was a great place, but at the time we didn't know it, but we were poor.

Everybody under which was port. We were young, we all got along together. Some people who had a little harder than others, we'd always get together, say, in summertime there, you want to go visit your friends? You found a swimming hole. They were all there. So we'd go and have fun,

and you'd all come around together, either we're swimming or walk the railroad tracks. As children in the late 60s and 70s, members of the group attended day schools and schools in nearby cities, where they say they experienced racism and discrimination from an early age. They took us off the First Nation and shipped us to the schools in the city.

We were in Cal Ojibor. We were in Calgary. We were just called Indian. One guy, Willie Bosnell, he was older than us. But it gave us more of the insight was happening with our culture and how we were being discriminated in certain ways. Wilford Bosno, number one guy. Wilfred's activism had a significant influence on the teenagers, connecting their own experiences to indigenous rights movements unfolding elsewhere. And the one place that really caught our attention was the 1970s occupation wounded being. In early 1973, around 200 members of the activist group American Indian movement

occupied the town of Wounded Knee in South Dakota to protest corruption, poverty, and broken treaty promises. Federal law enforcement surrounded the site leading to a 70-day standoff that included exchanges of gunfire. Two indigenous activists were killed. The conflict took place at the site of the 1890 Wounded Knee Massacre, where U.S. soldiers killed hundreds of Lakota people, including women and children. For the boys from Garden River, the American Indian movement reflected many of the issues they were confronting in their own community. The language is oppressed, our culture oppressed, our traditions oppressed,

the poverty in our communities, inadequate health care, you know, broken treaty promises. They come and tear everything down and take everybody out and take them to jail just for doing the ceremony, our ceremony. Employment, better social services, our voice being heard. We are Anishina Bay people. We are Indians. We have to do something. What can we do? And that's when my older brother had all these different ideas. We decided to make a stand. make a sand. Being that young, we didn't fully grasp everything. We didn't realize at the time,

but it really did make a statement after a while. Decades later, that act of protest and the image it created continues to appear in contemporary and indigenous art. Led by our brother Willie Buzzel, went by the movement of the Spirit, and the Spirit brought us to the bridge that evening. They repainted it black, and then somebody put the sign back up. I was just absolutely astonished when I seemed to go back up on the bridge again. Our guys in Garden River just don't want to see it disappear. They want it on there. Entering Garden River today, that legacy is still visible.

I think that it has impacted people right across Turtle Island. In fact, I think the world, we're proud of what we've done, and we are grateful that the message continues there today. It took that time of our people. our people to learn who we are and to be proud of who we are. The words painted on that bridge are a statement about land, identity, and experience. Another personal story shared decades later would grow into a movement recognized by a country. And it all started with a woman named Phyllis Webstad and an orange shirt.

It is Truth in Reconciliation Day and also Orange Shirt Day. Phyllis, you are the co-founder of Orange Shirtay and a residential school survivor. I want to say we are grateful to have you here in a rundown studio. How are you doing? Good. Thank you for having me. Your story truly starts with your grandmother. Can you tell us a little bit about her and your family's experience with residential schools?

I lived with my grandmother on the Dock Creek Reserve until I was 10. Then my aunt took me my mother's sister. But my grandmother was the first generation to attend the St. of Indian residential school outside of Williams Lake, BC. All of Granny's 10 children attended, who included my mother, and granny's eldest grandchild, and then myself. Now, we have a photo of that same residential school

that you went to school in, 1973. You were excited, first day of school, as any other kid would be. tell me what the story is with the actual orange shirt. This is essentially a gift from your grandmother. I wouldn't say it's a gift. Granny was my caregiver. Just as any parent caregiver would do for children in their care, you bring them school shopping.

You want them to look their best and feel their best. And so she brought me and my cousin to town to buy something new to wear for school. and I chose a shiny orange shirt. And when I got to the mission, my shirt was taken. And no matter what I did, they wouldn't give it back to me. And that's the story I told in 2013 when the Truth and Reconciliation Commission came to Williams Lake.

The orange shirt, deeply personal to your childhood, but has also become a universal symbol for residential school survivors. recently, Rebel News launched an orange shirt campaign with phrases like, quote, dig deeper and, quote, still no proof. And this was them challenging the narrative around unmarked graves. What went through your head when you first heard about this? Yeah, that was just like 10 days ago or so,

and I had a real hard time. I was actually sick to my stomach. I felt ill. And I was busy in Camloops at the time. and it took me a while to process what they were doing and what was happening and what my response would be. I gave one interview, but it took me a while to think about what I needed to say. And in my interview, I stuck to what I know, what the facts are, and that there are children buried in Kamloops.

I know that firsthand. My aunt has a book called Behind Closed Doors. She was the editor, given first-hand account, taken to where these children were buried and told the stories by the people who participated in the burying of these, a lot of them young adults and children. And I know it's not a lie. I know it's the truth.

And I'm so glad that my mom, and my eldest aunt aren't on social media to hear and to see what this, I don't know what you call them is doing. I don't even want to say their name to give them that. So I'm glad that my eldest aunt and my mom aren't on social media because they went through a lot. and for somebody to say that their friends who went missing and they never knew what happened to them is all a lie and their liars is I don't tell them about what's going on and for them to have the orange shirts is an all-new, low level of humanity.

They actually have no humanity. How does something like this impact? the ongoing work that you were doing? It just gives me more resolve to stand my ground, to stand up for what I know to be true. There is documented proof of children everywhere all across Canada. There were 139 residential schools in Canada. 11 have been somewhat searched

and to focus on one and say that it's all not true. There's people alive today that have brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles that did not come home. We deal with things that society has no idea we deal with on a daily basis. And it's just very hurtful and it seems like they don't care about what happened to us. And even though there's documented proof, anywhere the Truth and Reconciliation Commission has a final report. There's survivor testimony. There's in all the time that I've been doing this work, not once. Have I had anybody challenged me or a denier, come to me and say you're a liar.

And I welcome that. I welcome anybody that wants to come and debate this issue and talk about it. You had mentioned your memoir. You have a new memoir out this month. It's called We Are Still Here. a life of truth and reconciling two worlds. Why was now the moment for this? You have written other books as well,

children's books as well. Why was the moment now to write this story? Many survivors went to their graves, not being able to talk about what happened to them. And even now, I have one year at the mission, and it's hard for me. Those that have 10 or more years, it's even harder and some just can't do it.

And I think of my family and that, and those that can't tell their story to be that voice to tell my story and to be out there. And the Orange Shirt Society is in response to the T.R. ending and Murray Sinclair challenging Canadians to keep the conversation happening after the TRC wrapped up. And everything the Orange Church Society does that I do is to keep what happened to us on the radar of Canadians to make sure that people know what happened and that it doesn't happen again. What do you hope people take away from your book? When I was finishing writing the book, I thought of my grandmother, and that's why Weechna Elia A, that we are still here, because my grandmother used to say that in our many conversations, that ever since

European people came to this country, that they've been trying to get rid of us, trying to kill us, trying to erase us. And the book is to just let people know that we're still here, thus the name of and a tribute to my grandmother that we're still here. We're carrying on your legacy, and we're going to be here for many, many more years to come thousands of years. Were there difficult moments when you were writing this memoir that's still stuck in your head? Yeah, there was pockets of time that I had to just forget about the world. and just immerse myself.

And there's, as with all of my books, there's a lot of learning and looking back at where I've come and making connections of the history. And one of my favorite sayings is life can be understood backward, but must be live forward. And that's a lot of realizing the history and the impact it's had on my life and the reasons for what happened and for the,

way that I felt and my response to it today and my continued healing journey, my response to what's happened and that I can't, I give it my all when I do my presentations, I go back and I tell people what it was like, but I can't stay there. When I'm done, like today, for instance, when I get back to my room, I'll call my spirit back and I'll say, you're sorry. safe. I'm safe and secure. I love and accept myself and I'll bring my spirit back. And that's the same thing when I check out of a hotel. I stop. I clap because I can't smudge the room. I clap to bring my spirit back and say, okay, we're leaving. And so I take me with me wherever I go. Ellis, thank you so much. I really appreciate you taking the time. Thank you for having me.

Rebel News responded to our request for comment after this segment had been recorded. Ezra Lent responded in part, Orange Shirt Day started as a way to honor residential school survivors, and that purpose is a noble one. But it has also become an exercise in compelled speech. I understand that some survivors find a contrary message painful, and I don't dismiss that. But in a free country, the answer to a shirt you disagree with is not to ban it.

asking to see the evidence is not hate. Did your community honor orange shirt day or did you mark it in your own way? Let us know in the comments or send us an email to rundown at tb0.org. Until then, I will see you tomorrow. You're not imagining it. Historically, women's health has been under-researched and underfunded. Did you know it took until the 90s for ADHD and girls to be studied? And it can take decades to be diagnosed with endometriosis.

How did we get here? This season on mistreated, we're exploring that and more. And speaking to those working on solutions, I'm Nam Kiwanuka. Watch mistreated Thursdays at 8.30 p.m. on TVO, listen to the podcast, or stream us anytime.