Long-term funding, church records, and the work of building back what was taken
On the grounds of Williams Lake First Nation, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau came to listen — to elders, to survivors, to the weight of 93 potential burial sites discovered near the former St. Joseph's Mission Residential School. His visit was part of a reckoning Canada has long deferred: the full accounting of what happened to Indigenous children who entered residential schools and never returned home. Chief Willie Sellars made plain that listening, however sincere, must give way to sustained action — federal funding, church records, and the material conditions that make recovery possible.
- Ground-penetrating radar has identified 93 potential burial sites at the former St. Joseph's Mission, deepening a national crisis that began with 200+ graves discovered in Kamloops the year before.
- Chief Willie Sellars pressed the Prime Minister directly: without long-term federal funding and full Roman Catholic Church records, many of the children buried near the school will remain forever nameless.
- Trudeau and Crown-Indigenous Relations Minister Marc Miller moved through the community offering sweetgrass and listening to survivors one by one — a gesture of presence that the community acknowledged, but did not mistake for resolution.
- The Truth and Reconciliation Commission documented at least 4,100 child deaths across Canada's residential school system, a number that frames this moment not as history concluded but as accounting still underway.
- Sellars broadened the demand beyond ceremony — reconciliation, he argued, must include housing, economic development, and structural investment, not only apologies and listening sessions.
The sound of children drumming greeted Prime Minister Justin Trudeau as he arrived at Williams Lake First Nation in British Columbia — a ceremonial welcome that opened into one of the hardest conversations in Canadian public life. He had come in the wake of a discovery: ground-penetrating radar had identified 93 potential burial sites around the former St. Joseph's Mission Residential School, which had operated for nine decades before closing in 1981. The find followed an even more jarring one the previous year, when more than 200 apparent graves were located at a former school in Kamloops.
Chief Willie Sellars was direct about what his community required. Long-term federal funding — not a single gesture — was essential for the ongoing work of searching for remains and identifying children who never came home. Equally urgent was pressure on the Roman Catholic Church, which had operated St. Joseph's, to release its complete records. Without those documents, many of the buried children would remain nameless.
Trudeau and Crown-Indigenous Relations Minister Marc Miller spent the day meeting elders and survivors, offering sweetgrass and listening. The Prime Minister described the visit as an act of learning — an attempt to understand what reconciliation might genuinely require. But the distance between listening and acting remained the central tension of the day.
The institution at the heart of the investigation had been established in 1891 as an industrial school, where Indigenous children were compelled to labor and stripped of their cultures for ninety years with little oversight. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission later documented at least 4,100 child deaths across Canada's residential school system — a figure that speaks not only to historical tragedy but to an accounting still far from complete.
Sellars also raised housing and economic development, insisting that reconciliation must reshape material conditions, not merely acknowledge past wrongs. As Trudeau departed, the investigation continued, the church faced mounting pressure, and communities across Canada prepared for similar discoveries — each one a reminder that this work will be neither swift nor simple.
The sound of drums filled the air as Prime Minister Justin Trudeau stepped onto the grounds of Williams Lake First Nation in British Columbia. Children had gathered to welcome him, their drumming a ceremonial greeting that set the tone for what would become a difficult conversation about loss, accountability, and the long work of reconciliation.
Trudeau had come to Williams Lake in the wake of a discovery that had shaken the community. Ground-penetrating radar had identified 93 potential burial sites around the former St. Joseph's Mission Residential School, a facility that had operated for nine decades before closing in 1981. The discovery followed an even larger one the year before, when researchers in Kamloops had located what appeared to be more than 200 graves at another former residential school. These findings had forced Canada to confront, once again, the scale of what had been lost.
The Prime Minister's message was straightforward: Canada grieves alongside Williams Lake. But words, as Chief Willie Sellars would make clear, were only the beginning. Sellars had been explicit about what his community actually needed. Long-term federal funding was essential—not a one-time gesture, but sustained commitment as the First Nation and others continued the painstaking work of searching for remains and identifying children who had never made it home. The federal government also needed to pressure the Roman Catholic Church, which had operated St. Joseph's, to release its complete records. Without those documents, many of the children buried around the school would remain nameless.
Trudeau and Crown-Indigenous Relations Minister Marc Miller spent their time in Williams Lake meeting with elders and survivors one by one, offering braids of sweetgrass and listening to their accounts. The Prime Minister framed his visit as an exercise in listening and learning—an attempt to understand what reconciliation might actually look like, not just for this community but for the country as a whole. Yet the gap between listening and acting remained vast.
The history that hung over these conversations was brutal and specific. St. Joseph's had been established in 1891 as an industrial school, a place where Indigenous children were forced to labor—splitting timber, working farms—as part of a system designed to assimilate them away from their own cultures. For ninety years, the institution had operated with little oversight and less accountability. When it finally closed in 1981, many families still did not know what had happened to their children.
The broader context made the moment even heavier. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which had spent years documenting the experiences of survivors and their families, had concluded that at least 4,100 children had died of neglect in Canada's residential schools. That number represented not just a historical tragedy but an ongoing one—families still searching, communities still grieving, the full accounting still incomplete.
Sellars had also raised the question of economic development and housing, framing reconciliation not as a purely historical or spiritual matter but as something that required tangible investment in the present. His community needed support to build, to grow, to recover from generations of disruption and loss. The federal government's role, he suggested, extended beyond apologies and listening sessions to concrete commitments that would reshape the material conditions of Indigenous life.
As Trudeau left Williams Lake, the investigation into St. Joseph's would continue. Families would keep searching. The Roman Catholic Church would face ongoing pressure to release records it had long kept private. And across Canada, other communities would be preparing for similar discoveries, similar conversations, similar demands for accountability and change. The work of reconciliation, it was becoming clear, would be neither quick nor simple.
Notable Quotes
Chief Willie Sellars called for long-term federal funding, complete records from the federal government and the Roman Catholic Church, and support for economic development and housing as part of reconciliation efforts.— Chief Willie Sellars, Williams Lake First Nation
Trudeau said his visit demonstrated that 'all of Canada grieves' with the community and that he came to listen and learn about 'what the path forward looks like, not just for this community, but for this country, in partnership, in respect, in reconciliation.'— Prime Minister Justin Trudeau
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did the Prime Minister need to visit in person? Couldn't this have been handled through officials?
Because the discovery of 93 potential graves isn't an administrative matter—it's a wound reopened. When families learn their children might be buried in unmarked ground, they need to see that the country's leadership understands the weight of that.
What does Chief Sellars actually want from Ottawa that he doesn't already have?
Money, first of all—sustained funding, not a one-time commitment. But also the church's records. Without knowing who these children were, you can't return them to their families. The federal government has leverage over the church that the First Nation doesn't.
The Prime Minister talked about listening and learning. Does that language frustrate people there?
It depends. Some see it as a necessary first step. Others have been listening to apologies for decades while conditions in their communities haven't changed. Listening without resources can feel like another form of delay.
Why is housing mentioned alongside the burial sites?
Because reconciliation isn't just about the past. These communities are dealing with present-day poverty, inadequate housing, limited economic opportunity. You can't ask people to heal from historical trauma while they're struggling to meet basic needs.
What happens next in the investigation?
The ground-penetrating radar work continues. Families wait for identification. The church is pressured to release records. And other communities prepare for similar discoveries, because St. Joseph's and Kamloops won't be the last.