TIMMINS - Mary Jane Metatawabin used to mend the worn blankets provided to residential school students. She's now one of thousands of survivors being blanketed with support.
Metatawabin is the 7,000th person to receive a Quilt for Survivor blanket. It was presented to her on March 15.
“We used to sew up our blankets because they had holes in them. Nothing in our lives was ever new. Everything was from other students that had been at the school before us. So I feel very grateful and filled with honour,” she said.
“The way the colours intertwine, it gives you a lot of hope, a lot of reason to remain on earth for the future. This is for all survivors. That was my initial thought.”
The Timmins-based not-for-profit makes and ships out quilts to survivors of the residential school system and other trauma.
Vanessa Génier, the founder and CEO of Quilts for Survivors, said it was “a big deal” to present the quilt to Metatawabin.
“Just to let them know that they're loved, and to be able to give them an actual hug is indescribable,” she said.
“And her son, Terry, was there, and he smudged her quilt. So I brought over the smudge bowl, because we smudge all our quilts, just to cleanse them and ensure they're going off in a good way.”
Metatawabin, now 65 and living in Timmins, attended St. Anne’s Indian Residential School in Fort Albany First Nation — one of Canada’s most notorious residential schools. She was five years old when she entered the school in Ontario’s Far North in 1964. She remained there for seven years.
The memories of that time remain painful.
“My older sister, who was four years older than I was, tried to warn me. She said, ‘Tell them you don't want to go there,’” she said.
“My earliest recall was that I was a happy child before I entered that school, and then when I came out, I was less than a child. I had no skills. I had no vision, no dream for a future.”
Metatawabin described her days at St. Anne’s as filled with hardship.
“I always had to be there on time and dress in a good way so they would accept me at the door,” she said.
“Just to have a good day, just to have a real day never was when you went to school, going to that building, and that's what hurt your little body, your little mind, your little soul, your little spirit, because you were never accepted just for who you are.”
Metatawabin carried the trauma into her teenage years.
When she went to high school in Ottawa, she encountered more racism.
“What I learned when I went to the city is English is torture. Everything they say to you is full of meanness. And you tried to survive going to high school. You tried your best. But I couldn't. I was already in a square box then went to another one,” she said.
“It was just so much for me. I couldn't handle it. I couldn't do it. The kids, they call me a little Indian … I said to myself, I gotta run away, so I ran again. You know, you keep running till you find what makes you feel healthy, what makes you feel warm.”
Determined to continue her education, Metatawabin completed her high school diploma through Seneca College and was later accepted into York University's business administration program.
The impact of her time at residential school and the struggles that followed affected her deeply.
“I couldn't even raise my first child. I had to give up my first child in order for him to survive. I gave my child to my parents,” she said.
“I didn't take him back until he was five. Those are five years I lost with him. And those five years that I lost with him were the five years that I had with my parents before going to residential school,” she said.
Because of the vivid memories, Metatawabin said it was hard to ask for support.
“I never realized that I wasn't the only one walking this road of gravity where everything is just pulling at you and pulling away.”
“I learned just to identify that there's other people out here. It's sort of like I woke up one day. To me that was called suppression, not depression. You suppress everything inside of you for so long, in your mind, your body, your soul. And that's what I lived with for so many years.”
Metatawabin’s children have brought her joy and strength.
Her son, Terry, is Fort Albany’s deputy chief, and her daughter is a professional lacrosse player.
“They've been on a quest of their own, and that makes me happy seeing that,” she said.
Since the beginning of 2025, Quilts for Survivors has shipped nearly 600 quilts.
“I think when we reach these milestones, it's a time to thank all those people that have helped make a block or send in thread or purchase a shipping box,” Génier said.
“That’s what we're honouring when we hit these big milestones, it's all of the work, all of the collaboration and all of those amazing volunteers.”
The trauma of St. Anne’s is still being uncovered. On Nov. 18, 2024, the search for unmarked graves at the former residential school began, a process expected to take at least three years.
SEE: Search for unmarked graves starts at St. Anne's
For Metatawabin, this work is vital.
“The elders and our senior members even said to me, 'Hey, little one, you got time to chat?' So you sit down, they tell you their story. And then when they would tell you stories, and they would pinpoint little areas of what happened, I guess you became the messenger without realizing it,” she said.
“That’s your future — to be able to identify or the probability of something evil happening in that area. So when you get older, it means you could relay to the aspect of the present, the past, and the future. All of a sudden, it makes sense. You need to be a part of it. You need to be a part of this uncovering so that people will finally have closure.”