I’ve never done anything like this before.

Hello friends, I’m taking a new direction with this newsletter edition.

This article is about zooming in on the experience of a young Indigenous advocate.

We hear it all the time that Indigenous people are overrepresented in nearly every form of social need.

I had my own struggles growing up, and I saw intergenerational trauma playing out right in front of me.

My great-grandfather was in residential schools, my grandfather is very distant, my father is soft but quiet, and I’m the first generation to go to any therapy.

Many young Indigenous people know that colonization happened, but it’s difficult to know how much it has taken from our communities when we were kids.

It was only once I grew up and built friendships, fell in love, and secured my first stream of income that I fully understood how much the trauma affected my ability to do these simple human things.

My goal with this letter to myself is to give a glimpse into the mind of an Indigenous youth who wants reconciliation, but has no skills, no confidence, and little direction.

The more we understand the Indigenous youth experience, the better chance we will design youth reconciliation responses that empower the next generation.

Let’s do this. 👇

Dear 18-year-old Bailey,

I know how hard it is to believe in yourself.

I know how scary your household was, and the way you were treated was ugly. Your mother was your biggest bully, and it’s admirable how many times you tried to have her in your life.

Leaving was the best decision you ever made.

I wish I could have been there for you when you felt invisible.

When they picked on you for dancing or having long hair, when they made war cries at you, and when the Catholic teachers made ignorant comments.

When you felt like you had no one in your corner but yourself.

I understand you stay quiet because it feels like no one listens anyway.

You grew up thinking adults stared at you in grocery stores because you’re a kid, but they kept staring as a teenager, and I regret to inform you, they don’t stop staring now as a young adult.

I wish someone had broken it down for you earlier, why you and most of your peers have mental health challenges, come from troubled homes, or felt like abusing drugs at 14 was kind of normal.

Why your school teaches you Catholicism like it was never used to oppress a community of people, or why you never had a black or Indigenous teacher, even as a substitute.

Or why you felt so ashamed to ask your father about our Indigenous heritage, even though it was never a forbidden topic.

I wish I could have been there to tell you how much better it will get for you.

A year from now, you will move to Toronto, and the burdens you bear will become gifts you share.

You’re going to start a Social Service Worker program at Seneca College, and you’ll quickly realize the small-town lifestyle of Cornwall, Ontario, was not for you.

You will learn about systemic racism, every mechanism for reconciliation, and engage with peers who went through the same things you did.

You will meet international students who are proud of their cultures and are interested in learning about yours.

You will study how Western society has been built in a way that disadvantages Indigenous youth and other minorities.

It will be a bit overwhelming at first, but it will excite you that you finally have words to communicate about your experience.

You’ll stay on this path, and 10 years later, you will be designing peer-mentorship programs, leading strategy development, and training staff and youth on reconciliation.

If I could ensure you get one thing out of this message, it’s that despite your trauma, you dared to lead with your heart, and it will repay you tenfold.

The best part about your journey is that you get to support young Indigenous people just like you, learn about youth reconciliation, and take the power into their own hands.

I’m so proud of the young man that you are. You never stopped trying, and valued taking the long way around because you trusted it would pay off.

I like to think your dots are connected in reverse because so much of the skillful things you do now are because of the challenges you experienced as a child.

I’m here to tell you that all your sacrifices will pay off, and you will lead youth reconciliation initiatives at a scale you didn’t know was possible.

You will make plenty of mistakes in your journey, but your strength is that you learn from all of them.

I’m so incredibly proud of the person you are.

P.S. - You have a wife now, try not to mess that up for us in your timeline.

Best,
Bailey

My goal with this piece is to provide perspective about what young Indigenous people are going through and speak from an emotionally focused lens.

This experience is important to understand because youth reconciliation initiatives target this demographic, and we must acknowledge their realities.

I feel the key to my success is connecting with other young Indigenous people authentically; I want that for others.

My experience led me to develop messaging about the path to youth reconciliation through young leaders, or that we must provide youth with the discourse to communicate their challenges.

The Frayed Feathers’ mission is to support teams in creating trauma-informed youth reconciliation initiatives that empower the next generation.

Thank you so much for making it to the end.

This week’s Frayed Reflections:

1. Indigenous youth are passionate about youth reconciliation, but may not know what it means.

2. Our trauma can hold us back, but when we heal, it can be a source of strength to connect with others.

3. As professionals serving Indigenous youth, our goal is to give them the discourse to communicate about the challenges they are experiencing.

4. The path to youth reconciliation is through young Indigenous leaders.