Juliette was born in 1957, and at the tender age of 6, she was taken to a residential school in La Tuque, a town 492 kilometres from Mistissini. Juliette was not able to speak and used a form of sign language with her friend and roommate to communicate. She loved to give hugs, she was helpful, and she also loved to do beading. In April her first year at residential school, the flu was massively spreading through the school and she along with her roommates were quarantined. Sometime during the night, a counsellor came through and opened the windows to the room the girls slept in, and Juliette’s bed was closest to the window.

 

 As the night went on Juliette’s roommate Caroline heard her laboured breathing and got up with her to get a drink. Caroline then went to get the counsellor as Juliette was very sick.  She was taken to the infirmary and then to the hospital. Juliette’s frail frame and weakness from the flu did not give her the strength to fight the pneumonia she developed, and she passed away in the hospital.

 

Once June came around and the kids were coming back from residential school, Juliette's parents went to meet her. It was only then they knew she had passed away and was buried in La Tuque. Due to their deep pain, Juliette’s parents never spoke about her to her younger siblings.  Her sister Kathleen went to the same residential school years later and never knew she had a sister who went to the same school, much less that she was buried in the far reaches of the cemetery. It was only by chance that Kathleen found out about Juliette after overhearing the two roommates speaking about her.  She started to ask questions about what had happened and what kind of person her sister was.

 

Even though her parents knew where she was buried, they could not bring themselves to go there. They passed away never having seen her grave. 

 

The school in La Tuque eventually stopped operating and the dormitory was demolished.  Today in the old school building, there is an Indigenous-run daycare that bears Juliette’s name. Juliette’s friends and family started to inquire as to the process of bringing her home.  They started looking into it around 2019 and after much red tape and COVID interrupting the process, they finally were able to have the body disinterred on September 20.  As you can imagine, the wooden coffin had rotted and was broken up, the family present was asked to take a break while the anthropologist and the coroner finished the work.  Juliette’s remains were identified because of a plastic hospital bracelet that had her name on it in the grave.

 

Today September 30, Truth and Reconciliation Day, Juliette will have her funeral service with family and friends and will be buried in her home community.  I want to thank Kathleen Rabbitskin and her family for allowing me to share their sister’s story, and to Juliette I want to say, “Welcome back home.”