Beausoleil First Nation
This story begins with a young child taken from they family. Forced to go to a place called the Mush Hole. There the Child is taught how to blend in with society. How to be a European. To do so, the Child was striped of their language, the customs, and traditions of their tribe and in exchange for Mush. The mush was horrendous, little to no taste. It left the body starving for nutrients where there was none; slowly over time it kills the body.
The Child engraves their name into the brick of the building. The building is covered in signatures; to show they were there. The signatures are the pain that plagued the children. A cry for help. The Mush hole taught the Child nothing. They only felt suffering and abuse. The Child felt no love from this institute. Only the damage it has caused. When the Child returned home, they were not the same. The Child felt ashamed of their identity being taken away.
This story can be from any of the children that were forced to attend Residential Schools; but this is my Grandfather’s story. When he was young, he was sent to Mohawk Institute Residential School in Brantford, Ontario known as the Mush Hole. Receiving nothing but mush.