In this comprehensive exploration, we delve into the powerful narratives shared by survivors of Michigan’s Indian boarding schools, as brought to light by Sharon M. Brunner, a dedicated member of the Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians and an experienced educator and advocate. Sharon’s work, particularly her book Michigan Indian Boarding School Survivors Speak Out, offers invaluable insights into one of the darker chapters of Native American history—examining the lived experiences of those who endured these institutions and the lasting impact on their identities and communities.
This article synthesizes Sharon’s research, interviews, and reflections to provide a nuanced understanding of the boarding school system in Michigan, highlighting the complex interplay of cultural erasure, trauma, resilience, and the ongoing journey toward healing.
Understanding the Context: What Were Indian Boarding Schools?
The Indian boarding school system was established with the intent to assimilate Native American children into Euro-American culture by forcibly removing them from their families and communities. These schools aimed to “kill the Indian, save the man”—a phrase that encapsulates the brutal objective of eradicating indigenous identities and languages.
Sharon Brunner’s investigation began from a personal place: her mother attended the Holy Childhood Boarding School, but rarely spoke of the experience. This silence sparked a profound question—what exactly were these schools, what happened within their walls, and how did they affect the children who were sent there?
Her master’s thesis, completed in 2001, became the foundation for her book. Over sixteen months, Sharon traveled across Michigan—from Hessel to Sugar Island to Sault Ste. Marie—interviewing survivors and gathering stories that reveal the harsh realities behind the boarding school system.
The Duality of Boarding Schools: Federal vs. Missionary Experiences
One of the most striking findings from Sharon’s research is the contrast between experiences at federal boarding schools and missionary-run institutions like the Holy Childhood Boarding School.
Federal Boarding Schools
Federal schools, which closed as early as 1933, were often seen by some attendees as places of refuge from poverty and instability at home. For example, Jeff, one of the survivors Sharon interviewed, expressed relief at having three meals a day and a warm place to stay, in contrast to the cold and impoverished conditions he experienced growing up.
These schools also provided vocational training—skills like barbering that some survivors used to earn money later in life. Fred, another federal school attendee, fondly remembered marching drills that were so precise they resembled military training, leading others to mistake him for a West Point cadet.
Missionary Boarding Schools: The Holy Childhood Boarding School Experience
In stark contrast, the Holy Childhood Boarding School experience was marked by resentment and trauma. Every survivor interviewed from this institution expressed a deep dislike for being sent there. The school enforced strict religious indoctrination, harsh discipline, and cultural suppression.
Many survivors developed a fear of the dark, a psychological scar from being locked in basements or hearing cries in the night. The environment was one of fear, confusion, and physical punishment, often at the hands of nuns who some described as sadistic. Children were forbidden from speaking their native language, punished severely if they did, and subjected to humiliations such as wearing bed sheets on their heads for bedwetting or cleaning floors with kerosene-soaked rags.
“I would much rather have been at home with mom and dad fighting, drinking, and domestic violence than to go through being institutionalized in a place where they tell you that you’re evil… Fear of the devil. What they made me afraid of was the dark.” – Tim, Holy Childhood Boarding School survivor
The food was often described as rotten or infested with bugs, and the children were frequently underfed despite the hard labor they were required to perform. The combination of physical hardship, emotional neglect, and religious confusion created a lasting impact on their sense of identity and belonging.
Harsh Discipline and Cultural Suppression
Discipline in these schools was often brutal and degrading. Jennifer, who attended the Holy Childhood Boarding School at the age of six, recalled being beaten with a rubber hose for bedwetting. Children suffered physical abuse and were subjected to humiliating punishments designed to break their spirits.
Language was a critical battleground. The schools forbade speaking indigenous languages, punishing those who did. This suppression extended beyond words—children learned to communicate through subtle gestures, such as tapping an eraser quietly on a desk to offer silent support to one another.
“They could speak volumes with their eyes because they couldn’t communicate. So, if somebody was sent to bed without dinner, they would look at someone and say, ‘Make sure she gets something.’” – Yolanda, Holy Childhood Boarding School survivor
These restrictions not only severed children from their cultural roots but also fostered confusion and identity crises. Survivors grappled with the question, “Who am I?” as they were taught they were evil or unworthy in their own heritage while being forced to adopt foreign beliefs and behaviors.
The Long-Term Impact: Trauma, Identity, and Generational Effects
The trauma inflicted by the boarding school experience did not end when the children left the institutions. Many survivors returned home estranged from their families and communities, unable to speak their native languages or participate fully in cultural practices.
This disconnection often led to feelings of alienation and confusion. Some survivors described feeling like strangers in their own families, which contributed to difficulties in parenting and relationships later in life. The absence of nurturing family experiences in childhood created cycles of trauma that have been passed down through generations.
Adrienne Christian, a student at Keweenaw Bay Ojibwa Community College, eloquently summarized the psychological toll:
“If you are a child of that age and you are taken away from your mommy and daddy, you don’t experience the love of a family. Therefore, when you grow up, you don’t know how to be a mommy and daddy yourself. And that gets passed on from generation to generation.”
Alcoholism, drug use, and other social challenges in Native communities can often be traced back to the wounds inflicted by these boarding schools. The disruption of cultural transmission and family bonds left many without a solid foundation upon which to build their lives.
Resilience and Resistance: Stories of Strength
Despite the overwhelming hardships, many survivors demonstrated remarkable resilience. Some, like Youland, refused to let the schools break their spirit, hiding their tears and pain from their captors and finding strength in quiet defiance.
Others formed strong alliances with fellow students, creating bonds that helped them endure the harsh environment. These connections were vital sources of support, often communicated through subtle gestures and shared experiences.
Several survivors later reclaimed their heritage, learning their indigenous languages and reconnecting with cultural traditions. One survivor shared how he taught himself a new Ojibwe word every day as part of his journey back to his roots.
“Who am I now? I have a family at home. I’ve listened to legends. I’ve spoken the language. I’ve gone to sweat lodges. What are they trying to teach me? I’m going to return back to being a Native American and speaking the language.” – Boarding school survivor
The Role of Religion and the Question of Accountability
Religion played a central role in the boarding school system, particularly in missionary-run schools like Holy Childhood. Daily religious services, strict adherence to Christian doctrine, and the portrayal of indigenous beliefs as evil were common.
This religious framework often justified the harsh treatment and cultural suppression inflicted on the children. Yet, as Adrienne Christian pointed out, there is a disturbing contradiction in how those who took vows to do God’s work inflicted such cruelty on children entrusted to their care.
While not all nuns and priests were abusive, the impact of those who were has left deep scars. The question of accountability remains complex and unresolved, with no formal public apology issued in the United States comparable to some of the reconciliatory efforts in Canada.
Community and Healing: Sharing Stories and Lifting Shame
One of the most important aspects of Sharon Brunner’s work is giving voice to survivors, allowing them to share their stories openly and honestly. Many survivors expressed gratitude at being heard and acknowledged, often talking for hours about their experiences.
Sharing these stories helps lift the shame and silence that has surrounded the boarding school legacy. As one participant noted, the book and discussions like these help to “lift shame” and move toward wisdom and healing.
Understanding the history and trauma of these schools is essential not only for Native communities but for all who seek to grasp the full scope of American history. The omission of Native American experiences and perspectives from mainstream education has contributed to a lack of awareness and empathy.
Moving Forward: Education, Reconciliation, and Cultural Revival
Efforts to educate younger generations about the boarding school experience are crucial. Sharon’s book is already being used in academic settings to foster understanding and dialogue.
Reconciliation efforts, such as those undertaken in Canada, offer potential models for how the United States might address this painful history. Recognizing the harm done, issuing formal apologies, and providing reparations are steps toward healing.
Cultural revival is also a vital part of this process. Survivors and their descendants are reclaiming languages, traditions, and identities that the boarding school system sought to erase. This reclamation is a powerful act of resistance and renewal.
Conclusion: Remembering, Acknowledging, and Honoring Survivors
The stories of Michigan Indian boarding school survivors, as documented by Sharon M. Brunner, provide a profound window into a chapter of history often left in the shadows. Through their voices, we learn about resilience amid oppression, the complexity of cultural survival, and the enduring impact of trauma.
It is imperative that we continue to listen, learn, and advocate for recognition and healing. By understanding the past, we can better support Native communities in reclaiming their heritage and building stronger futures.
For those interested in learning more, Sharon’s book Michigan Indian Boarding School Survivors Speak Out is a vital resource, offering firsthand accounts and thoughtful analysis that illuminate this challenging history with honesty and compassion.
To support ongoing education and awareness, consider exploring resources from the Upper Peninsula Publishers and Authors Association (UPPAA) and participating in events that highlight Native American voices and stories.
