14 Collecting the Evidence: Restoration and Archaeology at the Mohawk Institute

Sarah Clarke, Paul Racher, and Tara Froman

While sources such as written documents and interviews with former students of the Mohawk Institute have a great deal to tell us about life at the school, objects also have much to reveal. Drawing on materials recovered from the Mohawk Institute building during interior restoration, and artifacts unearthed during concurrent archaeological assessments performed on the grounds, this chapter explores the lived experience of children at the Mohawk Institute through objects.

The current building on the site of the Mohawk Institute—or “Mush Hole” as it was known locally—was constructed in 1903 after the previous 1858 structure was destroyed by fire. It is one of only two remaining Indian Residential Schools still standing in all of Ontario and serves as a “site of conscience” for that dark chapter of Canadian history.¹

In 2017, water damage to the building’s structure meant that extensive renovations were required if it was to continue to stand. The construction requirements of those renovations meant that considerable work had to be undertaken both within the Mush Hole and on its grounds. The possibility that the latter could impact either human or archaeological remains became a serious concern; particularly because the grounds had never been explored archaeologically. As it is situated within the limits of the Six Nations of the Grand River Reserve, the project is not covered by provincial planning legislation; were such work to take place off-reserve, this would have triggered an archaeological assessment in advance of construction.

Unfortunately, this latter point was not noted until the renovation process was well underway. In the absence of any available funding, and in the interests of just “getting the thing done,” the necessary archaeological work was supported by volunteers from Archaeological Research Associates, the Ontario Archaeological Society, other firms and organizations, and Indigenous community members. The volunteer project has been a collaborative effort, from fieldwork to artifact processing, with participation from both Six Nations of the Grand River community members and Mississaugas of the Credit First Nation community members. The Mohawk Institute archaeological site has been registered with the Ministry of Heritage, Sport, Tourism and Culture Industries (archaeological site registration number AgHb-608).

Part 1: The Archaeology

Archaeological assessment services were provided to the project, sometimes with very little notice, as construction crews worked to repair damage to the school that was more extensive than had previously been supposed. As the crews worked, it became clear that the building, despite having stood for over a century, had not been particularly well-constructed. The front porch was structurally unsound, and the foundation needed significant repairs. Archaeological investigations were required in both locations, as well as in the apple orchard at the front of the building, an area that has been proposed for the construction of the Mohawk Village Memorial Park, a survivor-led commemoration project. Established in the mid-2010s by survivors of the Mohawk Institute, the Mohawk Village Memorial Park Board of Directors has been raising funds for the construction of a memorial park to honour the children who attended the school on approximately two hectares (five acres) on the grounds of the former Mohawk Institute. Construction for the park began in 2019.

In an unexpected twist, and to the delight of volunteers, the artifacts identified over three seasons of archaeology at the property span the pre-colonial Indigenous occupation of the area, through to the property’s association with the residential school, and right up to the present day. To date, more than 35,000 artifacts have been collected during the archaeological assessments conducted at the Mohawk Institute property. Preliminary analysis suggests that as much as 25 percent of the archaeological assemblage dates to the period of Indigenous occupation prior to the arrival of settlers in the eighteenth century. The remainder of the artifacts appear to be associated with the use of the property as a residential school through the late twentieth century.

Artifacts recovered during the archaeological assessments at the Mohawk Institute property referred to herein will be housed at the offices of Archaeological Research Associates until they can be transferred to the Woodland Cultural Centre. As the project is both large and ongoing, comprehensive analyses have yet to be undertaken. Even a preliminary look at some of the objects recovered, however, can offer insights into the history of the Mush Hole and its grounds.

Archaeology Before the Mush Hole

The Mohawk Institute is situated in an area that was clearly favoured by Indigenous groups in the era prior to European influence, as evidenced by a large number of archaeological sites close by. The property is located in an area with fertile floodplains. With its location close to the Grand River, providing easy access to water, the site was an attractive place to settle. Archaeological evidence of Indigenous presence at the Mohawk Institute property extends across 9,500 years, stretching from the Archaic period, which dates from 9,500 to 2,900 years ago, to the Woodland period, which dates from 2,900 to 550 years ago.

During the test-pitting assessment of the property, various stone tools and by-products of stone tool production were recovered. Concentrations of these stone tool by-products or chipping “detritus” is typically interpreted as an indication of the presence of early Indigenous peoples’ temporary camps or tool production sites (see figure 14.1, image A). Formal tools recovered from the site, particularly projectile points, are stylistically dateable and, as such, provide an indication as to when particular archaeological deposits/occupations occurred. Indigenous-made pottery that dates to the Woodland period was also found at various stages of the archaeological assessment (see figure 14.1, image B). Although fragmentary in nature, this pottery provides evidence of more permanent village settlement prior to the arrival of Europeans.

These early finds were followed by archaeological remains that date to the time of the return of the Haudenosaunee to the area following the American Revolutionary War and the Haldimand Grant for lands along the Grand River corridor in the early 1780s. During the investigations at the girls’ (west) side of the building, part of a trade silver earring was found in a mixed soil context that also included more recent objects relating to the use of the property as a residential school (see figure 14.1, image C). Trade silver was initially used during the fur trade between the French and Indigenous trappers. Silver continued to be in use as a trade item until the early 1800s. In Canada, it was produced from coin silver by silversmiths in Quebec City, Montreal, London, and several American cities. Beginning in the mid-nineteenth century, trade silver was popular as a medium for Indigenous craftspeople, which continued into the twentieth century.² The presence of these artifacts in the archaeological record further illustrates the continuous Indigenous and Haudenosaunee settlement on the lands of the Mohawk Institute.

Artifacts of Assimilation

Evidence of the assimilation of students attending the Mohawk Institute is prevalent in the archaeological record at the school. Artifacts related to farming such as garden implements and school-related materials, including slate pencils and tablets, are ubiquitous.

After Robert Ashton was appointed principal and superintendent of the Institute in the early 1870s, he introduced disciplinary measures modelled after the military system that would eventually see male students drilled as the Mohawk Institute Cadet Corps (see Evan Habkirk’s chapter in this volume). This tradition continued under the tenure of Ashton’s son, A. Nelles Ashton, from 1911 to 1914, during which the program was recognized by the federal government’s cadet program.³ During the archaeological assessment in the former apple orchard, after the trees were cut down in preparation for the Mohawk Village Memorial Park installation, a military button was recovered that dates to the period that A. Nelles Ashton was principal. The button is made of brass with an embossed beaver and crown at the centre, with “CANADA” embossed above the crown and “CADET” embossed below the beaver on the obverse or button face (see figure 14.1, image D). The reverse of the button has a metal loop and fastener with illegible text. While the button may have adorned a piece of formal clothing, it doubtless was worn by a student attending the Institute.

During the initial stages of the restoration project, it was periodically necessary for construction to occur below the ground surface around the building. Although most work below ground was to take place within soils that had been disturbed by previous construction activities on the property, Archaeological Research Associates monitored and photo-documented the construction work to ensure any located archaeological materials were recovered. During the excavation of the foundation, down to the footings for the installation of flood protection and the installation of a new sewer line, enamelled tinware pitchers, plates, and cups provide tangible evidence of objects that would have been used within the walls of the residential school (see figure 14.2, images E and F).

The fact that they were found within the material (soil and debris) that was used to backfill the foundation of the laundry room addition can help infer the date of the deposit based on the circa 1922 construction date of the addition. Of particular interest are the number of cups found within the girls’ (south) side of the property that were recovered during the sewer installation, as they appeared to have been scattered near the extant tree line that formed a boundary within the girls’ outdoor play area. These objects also provide a tangible connection to the school. It is more than probable that students residing at the school used the enamelled dishes during meals. These pieces of inexpensive, utilitarian, and durable tableware may have been in use at the Institute for many years.

Assimilation through education, as noted earlier, is evidenced through the recovery of school-related materials such as slate tablets and pencils. During the archaeological assessment in the former apple orchard, a piece of slate tablet was recovered with the name “Leah” inscribed on it (see figure 14.2, image G). Prior to paper and graphite pencils, slate tablets and slate pencils were used. The transition to graphite pencils occurred in the early twentieth century, partially due to hygiene concerns relating to the method of cleaning the tablets between use, often with saliva. It is unclear how long slate pencils and tablets remained in use at the Institute, though a graphite pencil found during the interior restoration of the building labelled “Government of Canada—1917” suggests that they were being used at the Institute in the early 1900s (see figure 14.3, image H). The “Leah” tablet fragment likely predates the circa 1900 installation of the apple orchard on the property.

Part 2: The Building Restoration

Artifacts of Resistance

Objects indicating student agency and resistance at the Mohawk Institute have been infrequently found during the archaeological assessments undertaken on the property. The fact is that there are likely many expressions of resistance to be found in the archaeological record, but further research is necessary to tease out these objects of agency.

In 1903, the 1858 brick residential school building was destroyed by a fire that was later determined to have been set by students attending the school. During the 2017 archaeological assessment, under the front porch, evidence of the previous building fire was identified below the ground. Yellow bricks from the previous building were used to backfill the foundation of the new building, many of which exhibit evidence of burning. It is possible that other evidence of burned features in the ground can be traced back to acts of student resistance.

Also discovered during the assessment at the front porch were names written in pencil on the wooden window casing located below the porch. Like the names found at the rear of the building inscribed in brick, these names were written as an act of agency and resistance, as students faced limited opportunities for self-expression. The names written on the window casing under the porch were hidden from plain sight by the porch. In addition to being an act of agency and resistance, the names found around and inside the Institute building have provided a tangible connection to students who attended the school.

With the onset of internal restoration in 2016, construction and trade specialists regularly discovered objects hidden, lost, or forgotten within the walls of the dormitory building that were original to the residential school and the students. From the expected (pencils, buttons) to the unexpected (baby clothes, farm ledger), these objects exemplify the students’ daily lives, their struggles, their acts of resistance, and, ultimately, their pride of self (see figure 14.3, images H and I).⁴

Objects of Identity

While the Canadian Indian Residential School system was developed to create a disconnect between children and their Indigenous identity, objects found within the walls of the former Mohawk Institute dormitory building show that the child residents of the Institute were still very connected to their homes, families, and cultures. These objects tell a story of homesickness, the missing of relatives, and traditional lives interrupted.

A plethora of holiday cards and everyday letters from home were found during the restoration process. Female relatives of the students were very attentive to sending wishes and love from home. “Wesley” regularly received letters and cards “From Mom.”⁵ The cache of correspondence between Wesley and his mother was obviously of great value to this student as he took the time to hide it away within the walls, where he could revisit the letters and cards while keeping them safe from discovery by school staff or other students. “Mom” did not date her cards and letters, but, based upon a letter to “Dear Cousin” from Wesley found among these objects, the bundle dates to 1947.⁶

An envelope sent to “Fredrick [redacted for privacy], Mohawk Inst., Brantford, Ont.,” on 20 December 1950 contained a card.⁷ This card conveyed Christmas greetings to “Freddie [redacted for privacy]” from “Aunty Velma” and “Uncle Joshua.”⁸

Of particular interest is a letter written 30 March 1949 to “Dear Mother” from a son who was a student at the school.⁹ In the missive, the son thanks his mother for sending money to him at the Institute. He then adds that she should throw out “the stinky hides” he presumably left at home. Is this letter evidence that the student had successfully completed a hunt but had not had time to finish tanning the hides before leaving for the Mohawk Institute the previous fall? The use of English as the language of correspondence is also interesting and may have been the result of the reviewing of letters by school staff before they were sent. It is likely in 1949 that “Mother” was able to read and write, at least somewhat, in English. The personal details of the letter, the thank you for sending money and throwing out “the stinky hides,” also makes it likely that this letter, instead of being a school assignment, was a genuine letter home. Sadly, the fact that this letter was found within the walls means that it was never posted to “Mother.”

A packet of pencil sketches spread over eight pages also provides evidence of a continued attachment to the unknown artist’s Indigenous identity.¹⁰ Mixed in with sketches of animals, race cars, pugilists, soldiers, and people smoking are well-drawn depictions of Indigenous people (albeit with cowboys as well) (see figure 14.3, image J). The young artist also showed a fondness for the Lone Ranger and Tonto. Perhaps this is more an indication of what was trending in popular culture at the time than an homage to the student’s own Indigenous identity, but certainly the artist would have been aware he was Indigenous and felt a sense of commonality with these pop-culture drawings. The irony of a school built to destroy Indigenous identity having to combat a popular culture that was beginning to depict Indigenous people in minor heroic roles (Tonto) cannot be overlooked.

Objects of Assimilation

With the Mohawk Institute’s clear objective of assimilating Indigenous children into broader Canadian society, it is not surprising that many of the items found in the restoration provide evidence of the regimented indoctrination process employed at the school. Carpentry tools, sewing and farm equipment, numbered clothing, gun cartridges and bullets, institutional forms, and the copious number of toothbrushes and hair combs all indicate institutional living with an emphasis on manual trades over classroom learning (see figure 14.3, image K). Of the 754 objects found within the school’s walls, only 73 (or less than 10 per cent) were related to academic schooling (worksheets, notebooks, a textbook, and a workbook). In comparison, 259 (approximately 34 per cent) items were work related (tools, equipment, and fragments of each). If objects such as uniform remnants, cafeteria ware, school admission forms and correspondence, and items needed for daily life at the Institute are added to this total, the overwhelming majority of found objects were related to the assimilation goals of the Mohawk Institute.¹¹

The first assault to their Indigenous identity experienced by newly arriving students was the loss of their names. In the place of their personal identity each student was issued an identifying number.¹² This number not only replaced their personal names but also marked all their possessions—clothing, toothbrush, towel, shoes, etc. Found within the walls of the Mohawk Institute, a pair of boy’s underpants with the handwritten label “12” provides evidence of this dehumanizing practice.¹³

New arrivals also experienced further trauma with the cutting of their hair. Ostensibly for the purpose of eliminating lice, these haircuts were a further attack on the child’s humanity and identity. Masses of cut hair were found within the walls of the Mohawk Institute. Faded from time, these piles of hair were not accessioned to the collections of the Woodland Cultural Centre due to the sacred and sensitive role hair plays within Haudenosaunee culture.

Another dehumanizing practice levied on the students by the administrators of the Mohawk Institute was the literal imprisonment of children. Found on the corridor-side wall of the girls’ dormitory was a mechanical clock.¹⁴ This mechanical clock required a key to be inserted at set times by a school official who would be conducting the rounds, acting as a watchman (see figure 14.4, image L). If the key was not inserted at the set time, or the door to which it corresponded was forced open, an alarm bell would sound to indicate that something was amiss at a particular location. The mechanical clock found outside the girls’ dormitory still had its key attached by chain to the mechanism. This alarm system suggests that school administrators were actively locking students in at night and making systematic rounds to ensure they were kept inside until released.

Maintaining a sufficient number of students to perform work tasks was necessary for the Mohawk Institute to function. A farm ledger found in the crevice between the school’s outer wall and its balcony attachment covers the years 1899 through 1903.¹⁵ Page after page, year after year, the ledger documents crop and farm animal accounts, including a range of details from growing/raising costs to selling prices (see figure 14.4, image M). Additionally, a detailed chart of labour put in by the students was also maintained on a monthly basis. Each student was listed; his/her age was recorded; and the hours of work he/she put into the school farm was logged. There was no accounting for received wages as the labour of the students was categorized either as teaching or apprenticeship and not seen as true work. The hours of free labour provided by the students (girls laboured away in the cafeteria, cleaning the school, picking garden crops, or over sewing machines, while boys maintained the livestock and fields in addition to groundskeeping and carpentry) kept the school operating both practically and financially.

Objects of Resistance

The messages of love seen in objects of identity are a stark contrast to the dehumanizing objects of assimilation. It is not surprising that many of the students at the Mohawk Institute resisted all efforts to remove their identities and enslave them in a system of forced labour, with no payment and little bodily upkeep. Beyond the expected acts of youth rebellion, smoking and associated paraphernalia was overly represented in the hidden finds; more subtle signs of resistance to the school, its cultural annihilation policies, detrimental physical neglect, and all-encompassing attempts at assimilation, are evident in the objects found within the Mohawk Institute residence (see figure 14.4, images N and O).

The Mush Hole was not in the practice of feeding the children within its walls much of any nutritional or substantive value. Subsisting on a diet mainly comprised of oatmeal (mush), overworked and hungry students were forced to pilfer food from the staff pantry. In caches throughout the walls, tin cans, mangled in the attempt to open them for their caloric payload without the proper equipment to do so, are accompanied by torn wrappers, empty containers, and lidless jars, all once having stored an assortment of food ranging from sugarless pudding powder to an entire jellied chicken (see figure 14.5, image P).¹⁶ Oddly, for an institution with an apple orchard maintained and harvested by the students, numerous cans and peeled labels were discovered that show the school was purchasing large tins of apple sauce rather than using the fruit on hand (see figure 14.5, image Q).

The quantity of food packaging, secreted away so well it took decades and a demolition to bring them to light, is evidence that the students were actively supplementing their institutional meals with whatever they could take from the school and the staff. Money received from home likely went to purchasing the sugary treats that were stashed in order to protect them from others or from confiscation. Paper evidence of candy, chocolate, and ice cream were found on all levels of the residential school building. The students clearly resisted the physical neglect they were forced to labour under while attending the Mohawk Institute.

A stash of school assignments, discovered in a walled-in fireplace chimney, show overt signs of resistance to the authority of the Mohawk Institute.¹⁷ Written on the lined pages of notebook paper, the assignments are neatly signed spelling lists on one side and mathematical equations on the other (see figure 14.5, image R). All the sheets bear the date “Tuesday, January 2, 1951”; all have been torn in half. Stuffed into an unused nook of the school, it is obvious that the assignments were once a stack of papers waiting to be marked. This suggests some student took the stack of ungraded assignments, ripped the stack across the middle, and deposited them in the chimney. The tear was so clean and exact it was possible nearly seventy years later to match the halves of all the individual pages to their mates. It cannot be known what led to this act—whether anger, mischief, rebellion, boredom, or some other emotion was the cause—but the boldness required to do such a thing under the threat of extreme and disproportionate corporal punishment if caught exemplifies a spirit of resistance.

The most enduring physical evidence of resistance to the residential school’s assimilation tactics cover the entirety of the residence, its inner and outer walls. Buried under layers of plaster, paint, and wallpaper, or openly etched into the red brick of the outer facade, generations of students and survivors of the Mohawk Institute left their names for all to see (see figure 14.5, image S).¹⁸ Proudly and boldly signing their given names, “Amy,” “Pauline,” “Robert,” “Minnie,” “Vera,” “Elmer,” and many more courageous students made a stance.¹⁹ Rejecting their status as faceless numbers, these students proclaimed their resistance and reclaimed their humanity. These names bravely left for posterity are not mere graffiti, covertly left to mar and disfigure; they represent the inherent warrior spirit of these Indigenous children. Just as their ancestors once learned the skills and tools of survival as children on the very same plot of land, the students of the Mohawk Institute fought for survival with the skills and tools they had at hand. Armed with pencils and nails—not the projectile points of their ancestors, as discussed earlier—these Indigenous children proclaimed that they mattered; that their spirits would not be broken; and that their identity as Indigenous people was not a sin but a strength.

Reflections

It is an axiom in archaeology that objects have the ability to tell a story, and indeed, a story that complements and adds richness to oral and written narratives. Archaeologist Gary Warrick has drawn parallels between this aspect of archaeology and the collection of physical evidence at crime scenes. Archaeological evidence may support oral testimony or contradict it. Events, activities, and meanings may or may not be discernible in the archaeological record. Objects may be misinterpreted, but they do not and cannot “lie.”

The crime scene parallel in this case feels all too true as the testimony of survivors makes it clear that the Mush Hole was a place of human misery that extended from immorality through to outright illegality. The official records of the Mohawk Institute (“plentiful food,” “contented children,” etc.) were produced by the same people who were responsible for the criminal abuses perpetrated at the school. Establishing a counter-narrative to the official record is no easy feat. A place of horror and terror is apt to contain many of the same prosaic material objects as a happy one. Students at the Mush Hole had the same material needs as any other children, and those needs had to be served, however poorly. Nuance in this case is everything, however, and the fact that these children were not properly cared for is clearly attested to by the oral narratives/testimonies of the survivors. In the disconnect between the written/historical records of the school and the survivors’ oral narratives/testimonies, the material-archaeological record clearly supports the latter.

The Indian Residential School system was an example of colonial history at its worst. In 1883, Canada’s first prime minister, Sir John A. Macdonald, explained the system to the Canadian Parliament in the following terms:

When the school is on the reserve the child lives with its parents, who are savages; he is surrounded by savages, and though he may learn to read and write his habits, and training and mode of thought are Indian. He is simply a savage who can read and write. It has been strongly pressed on myself, as the head of the Department, that Indian children should be withdrawn as much as possible from the parental influence, and the only way to do that would be to put them in central training industrial schools where they will acquire the habits and modes of thought of white men.²⁰

The Mush Hole was a place where Macdonald’s goals for Indigenous peoples were translated into action. Children there were worked like slaves, physically and sexually abused, underfed, alienated from their languages and cultures, and isolated from their families and communities. As a “site of conscience” or counter-monument, the building and grounds serve as a place of memory for one of the darkest chapters in Canadian history.

On 21 July 2021, amid news from Tk’emlúps te Secwépemc First Nation in Kamloops, British Columbia, regarding the identification of potential student burials at the former Kamloops Indian Residential School, Six Nations of the Grand River Elected Council Chief Mark Hill held a press conference at the steps of the Mohawk Institute, surrounded by survivors of the school, at which he announced that a search of the school grounds should take place as part of a criminal investigation.²¹ A Survivors’ Secretariat was established in 2021 by a group of survivors to oversee the search for student burials on the Mohawk Institute property being undertaken by the Police Task Force comprised of Six Nations Police, Brantford Police, Ontario Provincial Police, cultural monitors, and Indigenous Human Rights Monitor Dr. Beverly Jacobs.²² Since the announcement by Chief Hill in the summer of 2021 and the creation of the Survivors’ Secretariat and Police Task Force, a ground-penetrating radar assessment has been initiated at the Mohawk Institute. At this time, the assessment has not been completed, and the results to date are unknown.

Canadians seem to be masters at navigating the complex logical contortions necessary to think of their society as “nice” or “polite” while simultaneously ignoring the abysmal ways in which the settler society has treated, and continues to treat, the Indigenous peoples who live within their country’s borders. With little apparent irony, Canadians think of themselves as having usually landed on the right side of history: as a destination for the Underground Railroad; as a champion of women’s suffrage; as a bulwark against Nazism; as a vigorous campaigner against apartheid; and more recently as a global proponent of LGBTQ2S+ rights. Despite these laudable (but, frankly, debatable) achievements, Canada has yet to fully reckon with its history as a colonial nation—one founded on the dispossession of Indigenous peoples from their traditional lands, a denial of the privileges and services extended to settler Canadians, and an attempt to erase Indigenous identity from the Canadian social fabric. Until such time as a reckoning with these sins can transpire, any thoughts of reconciliation between the settler society and Indigenous communities will remain elusive.

Notes

1. 1 See Office of the Independent Special Interlocutor, Sites of Truth, Sites of Conscience: Unmarked Burials and Mass Graves of Missing and Disappeared Indigenous Children in Canada (Office of the Independent Special Interlocutor for Missing Children and Unmarked Graves and Burial Sites Associated with Indian Residential Schools, 2024), https://osi-bis.ca/historical-report/.

2. 2 Sandra Gibb, “Trade Silver,” Canadian Encyclopedia, last modified 27 August 2020, https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/indian-trade-silver.

3. 3 E. Habkirk, personal communication with the authors, 4 June 2021.

4. 4 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, Woodland Cultural Centre, 2017.8; 2018.1; 2019.5.

5. 5 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2017.8.67; 2017.8.68.

6. 6 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2017.8.82.

7. 7 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2018.1.98.

8. 8 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2018.1.97ab.

9. 9 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2017.8.88.

10. 10 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2017.8.149–56.

11. 11 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2017.8; 2018.1; 2019.5.

12. 12 It is not clear when exactly students began to be referred to by number.

13. 13 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2017.8.2.

14. 14 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2018.1.46.

15. 15 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2017.8.224.

16. 16 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2017.8; 2018.1; 2019. See also Elizabeth Graham, The Mush Hole: Life at Two Indian Residential Schools (Heffle Publishing, 1997), 353–423.

17. 17 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2018.1.139ab–200.

18. 18 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2017.8; 2018.1; 2019.5.

19. 19 Collection of Six Nations Elected Council, 2017.8.324; 2017.8.372; 2017.8.373; 2017.8.72.

20. 20 Canada, House of Commons Debates, 5th Parl., 1st Sess., Vol. 2 (9 May 1883), 1107.

21. 21 Bobby Hristova, “Search of Former Mohawk Institute Grounds Should Be a Criminal Investigation, Survivors Say,” CBC News, 21 July 2021, https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/hamilton/ground-search-mohawk-institute-1.6110935.

22. 22 See the Survivors’ Secretariat website at https://www.survivorssecretariat.ca/.