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SOMBA K'E/YELLOWKNIFE - Residential schools took children away from their families, then they took something away from those children. Some of those who attended the schools gathered at Tree of Peace April 28 to share their stories and try to begin to understand what that something was.

Ray Jones shares his story - and a very emotional moment - with everyone else in the room, at Tree of Peace last Tuesday. - Tim Edwards/NNSL photos

"There was always something missing," said Terry Brown, one of the four main speakers. "That was the problem, I couldn't quite figure out what that missing piece was. I've went through a few years of therapy to kind of put myself back together, because when there is something missing - it's almost like you have to learn to live again."

Terry Brown is originally from Telegraph Creek, B.C. She now lives in Yellowknife and works for the Dene Nation.

"I guess I'm supposed to talk about the residential school experience which is something I don't talk about very often," said Brown.

She said even her kids didn't know she went to residential school until they went to a conference in Edmonton and she spoke about her experience.

"I spoke there and they asked me, 'Mom, you went to a residential school?' and I said yeah. 'Why didn't you ever tell us?' I said 'I don't know.' I really don't know. I just never talked about it," Brown said.

Brown was taken away to school at the age of 10 with her brother, who was two years older, after her parents split up. She had been living with her mother at the time.

"The Indian agent came and said 'I'm taking the kids because a woman's not capable of raising children by herself.'''

She then set out on a long journey along the Alaska highway.

"Being away from family was the most difficult thing for me - being very lonely and crying all the time. I was always crying in the school yard. That was difficult."

She said after living a life without confrontation on the land, she suddenly had to learn to stick up for herself. She was picked on by the students who had been there longer, and started getting into fights with bullies.

After that year, she went back home and was able to stay with her mother again, but she said the effect of that year away from home at residential school never really left her.

"I always thought 'what is wrong with me? Why don't I fit in? Why aren't I a happy person?" Brown said. "And a lot of that I can trace back to my first year when I went away and I think it was because - it's almost like they break your spirit in some way. I don't think we're totally broken spirits or else we couldn't survive, but I think the damage is deep enough that a child could just will themselves to die or eventually take their own life which is what many of the students did.

"Where I went to school, there was an age group of young fellows - there were about 12 or 15 of them who committed suicide."

The event was organized by Yellowknife Victim Services. Noeline Villebrun and Ernie Lennie had their own incredible stories to tell, and when the microphone was passed around the audience, others who had been to residential schools also shared their stories.

"One has to keep in mind that everybody is at a different level, a different stage of their journey," said Marie Speakman, who was helping out with the event.

Paul Andrew, a Northern journalist and musician, also reflected on his experience.

"I remember one of the older persons saying 'you know, the truth and reconciliation commission hasn't started yet, maybe we should start talking about it by ourselves. Let's not wait for them.'" said Andrew. "That's one of the reasons I am out here."

He said he always wondered what it was like for his parents.

"I always wondered what it was like for them to have three kids, running around and being mischievous and all that, and then all of a sudden, nothing.

"Like many aboriginal people across the country, I loved my dad. I would put him up against anybody, anywhere, at anytime. He was the best."

But with every one of the seven years he spent at residential school, Andrew said he and his father grew further apart.

"This man I loved more than everyone else in the world, maybe with the exception of my mom - and I couldn't talk to him anymore," he said. "I couldn't understand a damn thing."

So Andrew tried to learn Slavey again, but it was difficult.

"You know what hurting people do? You probably know what hurting people do. They lash out at you - and they laughed at me because I couldn't say Slavey words right. They laughed at me because I couldn't do the things that the Dene were doing.

"They said 'you are a mola' (white person) and I would scream at the top of my lungs, all alone - I am not mola, I am Dene - I just can't speak my language right now."

Andrew tried his best to learn his language again, but he was unable to learn it quick enough to regain the bond he lost with his father before he died.

"You know the wonderful thing about elders is that they love you without conditions, and they reached out to me."

They asked him what his parents would want for him, Andrew recalled.

"And it brought me back to those early years, those first eight years of my life when I was living out in the bush. Back to those wonderful, wonderful times."

"Yes, we were short of food sometimes. Yes, there were times when not everybody agreed, but the freedom, the unconditional love of the people out on the land, that I remember."

The elders helped him remember what his parents taught him, Andrew said.

"The talks that I always remember were that, 'we want you to be a good human being.' They always made it very clear that there's three ways to be a good human being - take care of the elders, take care of the orphans, and be good to the young people. And that's what turned me around - and that's what made a difference in my life."