My 27-year-old son called me 3 weeks ago. He sadly confessed that he attempted to take his life. He shared with me, “I never felt so alone standing on that bridge.”
My eldest daughter, at age 12, “Mom, what if I just never wake up again? Would that be ok?”
My youngest daughter, at age 12, “I’m tired. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to live anymore.”
One could assume that if all my children at some point in their lives wanted to harm themselves, that I must be a horrific mother. At many points of my journey into motherhood, I might have agreed.
It took nearly 40 years of my motherhood to fully understand Gabor Mate’s teaching, “There is nothing wrong with me, something happened to me.” Something happened to me, to my parents and to their parents. And not only in my family line, but the millions of Indigenous families all over North America.
Many of you understand this as ‘intergenerational trauma’. Wikipedia defines “intergenerational or transgenerational trauma as the psychological and physiological effects that the trauma experienced by people has on subsequent generations in that group. The primary mode of transmission is the shared family environment of the infant causing psychological, behavioral and social changes in the individual.” For me, it has meant learning to stay silent, you can’t trust, to protect yourself at all costs, you’re unlovable, you are not worthy, you deserve to be hurt, and you are never going to be enough. It means that I have a lifetime of healing to do
I grew up with shame, silence and anger for the abuse that I experienced and witnessed in my early years and adolescence – sexual abuse, emotional and mental abuse, neglect, and abandonment. As a child and over the years, I witnessed rape, assault, and domestic violence. I carried this inherent belief that there was something wrong with me and with my family. I had no idea what my parents and grandparents suffered in residential school. I had no idea that because of what they experienced they were incapable of being healthy loving parents or creating safe loving healthy homes.
When I heard my parents’ stories of their residential school experiences, it made sense why my father was a raging violent alcoholic. It made sense why my mother left us with my grandparents in search of herself after their divorce. It made sense why we never knew our father until he was dying. It made sense why my mother could go weeks without talking to me or telling me she loved me. It made sense when I disclosed my abuse to my mother, she never told anyone.
But what didn’t make sense was why I couldn’t show love to my children the way they deserved to be loved. I vowed to make sure they didn’t go through what I went through. I went to treatment as a young mother for alcohol addiction, I went to parenting classes and attended support groups, I educated myself so that I could provide them with a home and give them opportunities and experiences I didn’t have. What I didn’t know was that until I healed the pain I endured, my children would be susceptible and vulnerable to the very same harms I experienced. And they were. “We cannot heal, what we do not acknowledge.”
In the memoir “What My Bones Know,” author Stephanie Foo confronts a punishing personal history of abuse and, after being diagnosed with complex PTSD, explores how trauma can be inherited through generations.
“We are all products of our history,” she said in an email interview with the Washington Post. “I don’t really think it’s surprising that we carry our fears, traumas, tics and insecurities and pass them on to their children to some degree, whether it’s a depression-era recipe for potato salad or a deep-seated fear of abandonment.”
“In addition to learned behaviors from parents’ trauma responses, there is also a genetic element to inherited trauma. The study of epigenetics is focused on how a person’s environment and behaviors impact which genetics end up expressing themselves, known as “gene expression.” These gene expressions can be passed between generations, which is known as epigenetic inheritance. If a person’s DNA reacts to stressful situations by activating their fight-or-flight response, they end up passing on that reactive propensity to their children.” (Chaudieu, Ancelin and Saffery, 2016.) Quality of maternal caregiving not only impacts children’s development but can also result in heritable changes in gene expression.
My children are not alone in the impacts of intergenerational or transgenerational trauma. According to Statistics Canada:
“First Nation youth aged 19 to 30 are less likely to graduate from high school or pursue a postsecondary education than non-Indigenous youth.
Suicide is one of the leading causes of Indigenous youth death in Canada. For Indigenous communities, high rates of suicide are linked to a variety of factors including the consequences of colonialism, discrimination, community disruption and the loss of culture and language.
Indigenous young people aged 15 to 24 are more likely to experience mental illness and/or substance use disorders than any other age group.”
As Indigenous people, we are subjugated to the colonized beliefs that we are responsible for the state of our current lives. “This generation of kids didn’t even go to residential school, so what’s their excuse?” “All this is in the past.” “This happened so long ago.” “Indigenous people need to get over it.” And so on and so on.
When the history of our people from contact and its impact, through colonization, to the Indian Act, residential schools, the Scoop of the 60’s, is not acknowledged, collectively we as a people will not be able to heal. Our future generations of Indigenous youth will continue to carry the teachings of silence and shame . . . the cycle of intergenerational trauma will continue. Truths, such as mine and many others need to be heard. As a society, equitable and just measures need to be taken to empower Indigenous people to restore their inherent rights to their traditional lands and their ways of being and knowing.
The cycle can be broken. We can change outcomes. If you were to meet my children, you would never know what they have been through, the cost of colonization and how it has impacted them emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually. With the grace of the Creator and the sheer will of one mother, they have managed to avoid becoming a statistic. My children have in fact, changed the trajectory of their future generations, by graduating, being employed, going to post-secondary, leading assemblies, advocating for their peers, and exceling in sports, but more importantly, they have heard the whispers of their ancestors, have lit the fire of their blood memory, have gone to the water and earth for healing, have visited the spirit world in their dreams, have danced and felt the heartbeat of many in the drums, have claimed their spirit.
As I heal, my children are healing.