THE INTERVIEWER: We’re ready to start. Can you say and spell your name for us please.
ALFRED SOLONAS: Alfred Solonas; A-l-f-r-e-d S-o-l-o-n-a-s.
Q. And where are you from?
A. Originally I’m from McLeod Lake?
Q. McLeod Lake. Where’s that?
A. It’s ninety miles north of Prince George.
Q. So it’s still in BC then. And where do you live now?
A. In Fort Fraser. I met my wife there in 1980 and I stayed there with her. We’ve been married for the last twenty-five years.
Q. That’s nice, a 25th wedding anniversary this year.
A. It will be twenty-six in May.
Q. What school did you attend?
A. Lejac Indian Residential School. That’s in Fraser Lake.
Q. What years were you there?
A. From ’58 to ’61.
Q. What grade did that school go up to?
A. Grade 8.
Q. Where did you go after that? Did you continue on?
A. McLeod Lake.
Q. McLeod Lake. Was that a Residential School as well?
A. No, it was a public school.
Q. A day school?
A. A day school.
Q. Okay. How old were you when you started at Lejac?
A. I was 9.
Q. Did you go to school before then?
A. No, I didn’t.
Q. Do you remember what life was like before you went to Residential School?
A. Oh, my dad was working on the five bridges, Johnson Hart. They used to call that Mile 23. I think it was twenty-three miles from Summit Lake. He was working in the sawmill there. On weekends he used to go trapping.
Q. Would you go with him?
A. Sometimes, yes. That was interesting.
Q. How were you able to avoid Residential School? You started at 9, so a lot of kids started at 5 years old. Were you sort of hidden away from where they could find you?
A. Well, we went to McLeod Lake, and the one time we went to the store and my mom said “You’re going to go on a bus ride.” She didn’t tell me where I was going. She just said that I was going to school. And I said, “What’s a school?” I didn’t speak English at all. I spoke Sikanni all the time.
Q. Sikanni. How do you spell that? There’s probably not a way to spell it, or just how it sounds?
A. I’m trying to think.
Q. That’s okay. Don’t worry.
A. Sikani.
Q. S-i-k-a-n-i. Okay. Good.
So do you remember your first day at school?
A. Yeah. There were quite a few of us. They separated us right away from the girls. And none of us spoke English. We didn’t know what they were talking about, but we spoke to each other, keep communicating with each other and we do what I thought was right. I told them to do whatever I do.
So as the days go by they start hitting us because we couldn’t speak English. That was the worst part. But we stuck together. We tried to stick together as much as we can.
Q. How many were there in your group?
A. Oh, there were quite a few of us, about seventeen or eighteen, I think. Anyways, I told them in Sikanni the best way we could do it is try to learn English right away. So we practiced it while we’re out on the playground, because in school we keep getting hit because we don’t understand them and we couldn’t speak it.
That was the hardest part. We were beginning to hate the school because of it.
Q. Can you describe a typical day for us?
A. What do you mean?
Q. What time you would wake up in the morning and just everything that happened during the day.
A. About 6 in the morning. We had to be back in the dorm by 7 and lights out at 9.
Q. Was the dorm like?
A. Well, there was about twenty-four or twenty-five to each dorm, maybe more.
Q. What about the food? What was it like?
A. I didn’t like mush, or porridge, whatever you call it. I remember that Brother Currans (sp?), he used to put cornflakes in the porridge and he expected us to eat it. I don’t know why they hired him to be a supervisor in an Indian Residential School. He hated Indians so much. Any person that don’t like Indians they shouldn’t be in a public place. That’s what I think. Even nowadays.
Q. Do you remember specific things that he did that made you feel he hated?
A. Well, for one thing, if we didn’t do what we’re told and we don’t understand him or we did it wrong, it seemed like I’m the only one that’s always out of line. But I stayed there for 4 years.
I seen him a couple of times about a year or two years ago, I seen him, and I was so angry at him I just about —
But I didn’t feel like going back to jail so I didn’t do anything to him. I didn’t even say anything to him.
Q. You didn’t talk to him?
A. I just gave him a dirty look and walked away. What’s the use? I’m trying to forget the past.
Q. Do you think he recognized you?
A. Oh, he recognized me.
Q. What’s he doing now? Where was he when you saw him?
A. Well, I was selling tickets in the (something) Centre, selling cars. I was selling tickets. I leaned close to him. I was going to punch him and his face turned red. He knew what I was going to do, I guess, but I did that just to scare him. I wasn’t going to punch him.
Another time was downtown where the street people go for the soup line. I went up there just to see some friends, to have a game of crib with them. I go to talk with them. I like that. And he came up.
I just froze. I just stood there. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even look at him. I just walked away.
Q. What was he doing there?
A. Somebody said he was working there, but there were so many people from all around this local area —
Q. Was he a Priest?
A. No, he was a Brother at Lejac. I don’t why he was working there, but everybody couldn’t work with him. Some people, I don’t know, if they turn religious, I guess they forgave him and stuff. But most of the people, 90% of the people doesn’t want to have anything to do with him.
Q. When you were a child, did he ever humiliate you and call you down and make you feel bad?
A. No. He mostly hit me with the strap it seemed like. It seemed like he was constantly on my back, just always after me, leaving everybody else. I seemed to be the only one that he singled out. But for 4 years —
Finally I just couldn’t take it. I just told my mother I don’t want to go back. I mean, it seemed everything I did I was doing wrong. I tried to do things right but it seemed like I’m always doing things wrong. Even out in the playground I asked some other kids, “What am I doing wrong?” Most of them they just said that you’re not doing anything wrong. It’s him that’s in the wrong. So I don’t know.
Q. So how would you describe your experience at Residential School?
A. To me it was awful. The only teacher that was really nice was Mrs. Brown and Sister Maria Ethel (sp?). It seemed like they were the only teachers —
Mrs. Brown was like a mother to me, a foster mother or something, I think you call it. She was nice to everyone. Same with Sister Maria Ethel.
Pat Lawley (sp?) was another one. When I was in Grade 4, when he’s teaching it’s just like walking on egg shells, so he’s another guy —
He’s the reason I quit in ’61.
Q. Are you able to talk about any of the things he did to you?
A. Who, Brother Currans or —
Q. Either of them.
A. Well, yeah. I was talking to my lawyer about that. The only part I didn’t like was I lost most of my language. I speak it some. You can’t forget a language, I don’t think. But there’s some parts I can’t say any more because I haven’t spoken it for quite some time now.
Q. Are there any other things you would like to share about your experience at Residential School?
A. Not really. It seemed like it was a sad way to learn English and lose your language. The hard part was you got strapped for it because you can’t learn the language because you don’t understand. Before I went to Lejac I was on a trap line and everybody spoke Sikanni and everything you did, twenty-four hours a day you spoke Sikanni, and then you go there and all of a sudden you gotta change your language. It’s really difficult. You had to learn it in 4 months.
You can’t do anything. You can’t fight back. You can’t do anything. You had no rights at all. They just stripped off your —
Q. What about the religion they were forcing upon you. How did you feel about that?
A. Well, they woke you up at 6 o’clock and you gotta be in church by 6:30. You stayed there until the Mass was over and then you go down and have breakfast. Some of the other kids, they had to teach them Catechism just to —
I don’t know how I avoided that, but they didn’t put me in that one.
Q. They didn’t put you in Catechism?
A. No.
Q. Only some kids went to Catechism?
A. Yeah. I don’t know how is that. I don’t remember why.
Q. What about going home for the summer. What was that like, the summer holidays?
A. Some of us couldn’t sleep before we go home. We went home for Christmas and Easter, but some of the other kids go in there in September and they don’t go home until June. I was kind of sad for them because it’s really hard not seeing your parents, you know.
I think some never got to go home.
Q. Did you have brothers and sisters there?
A. Yeah, I had some brothers and sisters there.
Q. When you would go home, was it hard to speak your language again?
A. Oh, to me it wasn’t. I spoke my language. But 95% of the Reserve didn’t quite understand what we’re talking about but we spoke English and the parents spoke Sikanni. They turned around and slapped some of their kids because they don’t understand Sikanni any more. That’s kind of a reverse for me. So it was a really confusing world.
Q. Before we move on and talk about how life has been since Residential School, are there any final things you want to say?
A. No. I want this over with and I don’t want to talk about it.
Q. Okay. How has life been since Residential School?
A. Oh, I’ve had my own companies. Because of Lejac I don’t think I can work with other people. I’ve always managed to start something. I started a garbage company myself. That turned out pretty good.
Now I’m thinking of putting in a little tire shop. The Band is going to help me, anyways.
Q. That’s good.
A. That should run into well past retirement. It’s something to keep me going.
Q. Do you have children?
A. I have only one. He’s graduating this year. He’s seventeen.
Q. Have you ever been able to talk to him about your experiences at Residential School?
A. No, I never. I never tell him anything about it. I don’t think I want to tell him about it.
Q. What about your wife?
A. Oh, she knows about it.
Q. Did she go as well?
A. She knows about Lejac but she didn’t attend there. She’s twelve years younger than I am. I quit when she was born, in ’61.
Q. So how about healing for you now? How are things? Did you start to see any counselors or get any help through Conferences or anything?
A. In Notley, Fort Fraser, I went to see a counselor for about 2 years. That helped quite a bit. I mean, he kept me busy, just things in general and just try to forget about the past and move ahead.
Q. And what about now? Do you seek any help now or do you do anything?
A. No. We have 3 foster kids so they’re keeping us busy; from 2 to eleven. There’s one 2 year old, a 6 year old and an eleven. They’re keeping us busy. It’s like having your own family. It’s all right. I don’t mind it.
But my boy is seventeen and in our own way we’re trying to teach him this is life. We help out other people with kids. The kids’ parents are having a problem with drugs, so we try to help out. We’re having those kids for 6 months. We have a couple more months left before we give the kids back. We’re going to miss them.
Q. Are they from the same family?
A. My sister’s niece. So, yeah, I would say it’s family. I don’t mind. It keeps you busy, especially the 2 year old. He keeps you running around!
Q. They keep you in shape, 2 year olds.
A. Yeah.
Q. Well, thank you for coming today.
Is there any final word you would like to say before we wrap up?
A. No. I just want to get it over with. I’m trying to forget Lejac altogether.
Q. Okay.
A. I might as well. My son said he wants to become a computer technician. He’s going to keep on going to school, even though he graduates this year. So I’m proud of him. I never went past Grade 11. That’s the farthest I went. I should try to finish, though.
But it’s too late.
Q. No. After the kids are gone you’ll have something else to do!
A. Oh yeah, that’s true too, isn’t it.
Q. Thank you very much for coming and sharing today.
A. Thank you.
Q. That’s it, you’re done. You got it over with. How do you feel?
A. Good.
— End of Interview