National Day of Truth and Reconciliation in 2026
My heart is always heavy on September 30th, National Day of Truth and Reconciliation. I feel grief about the horrors of colonial systems and real-life impacts that trickle down to this very day. I miss Elder Billy, someone who was so special to me, and who I always spent today with. He would have a busy schedule today, wanting to visit multiple events and people, and he was so well-known and appreciated wherever he went. The day feels much harder without him because with him I felt connected to him, to community, and witnessed true solidarity. This still exists, of course, but it’s lonelier without him boosting my spirit.
What is clear to me is that each year, the depth of feeling in my heart around what has been lost to colonial violence only grows. I’m currently reading The Berry Pickers written by Amanda Peters, a Mi'kmaw writer from Falmouth, Nova Scotia, and while the story is filled with incredible love and hope, it is absolutely heart-wrenching. The story follows a Mi’kmaw family and the horrors they experience as migrant workers from Maine. This is fiction, but her story captures the reality of countless families, over countless generations, facing injustice on the most incomprehensible scale.
As the leader of Restorative Approach, I continue to take my role as a settler seriously, and I contemplate how we can expand our orientation to justice. I know that restorative work is inherently focused on the relational lens, so deeply rooted in Indigenous world views and practices, but I ask myself how we can share this practice, this medicine, more broadly. I ask myself how we can give deeper appreciation and acknowledgement to the roots of this work. I wonder how we can share our resources more, and work more closely with Indigenous collaborators. I’m forever contemplating the connection between queerness and reconciliation and wonder how we can strengthen this message in our educational work. We’re 5 years in, and we still have so much work to do, and so much to learn. It’s a humbling process.
Today, I give profound thanks to my relations with Mi’kmaw folks who teach me things, tell me things, let me in. I give thanks to all of the Indigenous and First Nations People who continue to share their stories and push for change, despite the continued culture and climate of racism and hate. It’s a miracle we have these voices, despite it all. I thank the storytellers, the language protectors, the water collectors, the tricksters, the artists, the scholars, and all the Indigenous voices who are with us today. Wela’lin.