The heart wrenching journey of a young Stephen Kakfwi, a Dene Elder and former Premier of the Northwest Territories, is the subject of Stoneface.

Around two dozen community members were honoured to meet and listen to Kakfwi at the Picton branch of the Prince Edward County Public Library Tuesday tell about his experiences at residential schools and the impact trauma has had on his life.

Library Board Member and Sophiasburgh Councillor Bill Roberts, a good friend of Kakfwi, heard about the author’s plan to go town to town across Canada telling others his story and promoting his book and insisted the elder start his journey in the traditional lands of the Anishinaabe, Huron-Wendat and Haudenosaunee people

“I said I was going to do 100 libraries and bookstores before Christmas…That’s a bit outrageous, but I like being outrageous,” Kakfwi quipped.

Stoneface: A Defiant Dene tells of Kakfwi born in a bush camp on the edge of the Arctic Circle in 1950 to a family torn apart by tuberculosis, alcohol and the traumas endured by generations in residential schools.

In an Amazon synopsis, the author is lauded for combining a remarkable memory for detail with a compelling raconteur’s skill in taking the reader through the incredible story of his life and one of the most transformative times in Canadian history.

“In his candid description of the loneliness of leadership and his embrace of Dene spirituality, Kakfwi’s Stoneface transforms politics into philosophy and an intensely personal guide to reconciliation.”

“We can’t get over it, you can’t forget it, and the remedy is in telling the story. But also telling the story so that somehow you lift Canadians up in the process,” explains Kakfwi. “These terrible, awful things happened to us, and my story is here, right here.”

The title Stoneface comes from a persona Kakfwi developed in a residential school. As a coping mechanism to the horrors faced every day, Kakfwi would leave the moment mentally.

“Stoneface is about being totally detached. You can talk to me, and I’ll be a thousand miles away,” said Kakfwi. 

The elder explained it was something he learned from many other residential school survivors- a way to become expressionless and stone-faced Kakfwi’s work is for the thousands of residential school survivors who lost the ability to love, love themselves and feel joy.

Initially, the book was penned for  his children and his grandchildren. At the time, he planned on printing just a few copies so that when he passed away, they would have his story and the story of his family.

Christian religion lording over indigenous people is key part of Kakfwi early story lines and the author explained  the presence of the church in these remote communities were seen stronger than the federal government.

“To try to tell your parents or your grandparents that a nun spanked you or beat you or punished you. They would only think it was because you were a bad kid,” said Kakfwi. “You guard yourself, you develop a shield and your emotions kind of flatten out. So if there is joy to be had, you start to lose the ability to jump around and be exuberant and celebrate.”

In the past, when asked about the worst thing that ever happened to him, Kakfwi would often downplay incidents. He would say that he was a bad kid. He was always fighting, so he got spanked a lot. 

“I got spanked with a skipping rope,” stated Kakfwi. “I think that was the worst one.”

When Kakfwi had this conversation with his wife, he suddenly realized what he was doing. He was blaming himself. 

“I couldn’t call it a whipping, but that’s what the nun was doing. She took a skipping rope, and she whipped my hand. When I wouldn’t break down and cry, she got enraged, and she started whipping me on my head, my arms and my back. Just flew into a rage, and she wouldn’t stop,” explained Kakfwi. “And my wife said that’s not spanking. That’s a whipping. Why don’t you say it? So from there, I couldn’t stuff it back.” 

Kakfwi decided he was ready to speak with a counselor, cry his eyes out for five days and get on with his life. 

He was angry when an elder told him the healing process would take longer than that. 

“I said, well, tell me,” explained Kakfwi as his voice raised with emotion. “You’re a counsel; you’re an elder.”

The elder explained to Kakfwi there is a good side. The good side is that each time you tell your story, it’s going to get more manageable, and you’re going to feel better. He said, however, even when you tell your story 30 years from now, you will still feel it. It might take you the rest of your life.  

Kakfwi remembers the first time he disclosed the more horrific things that happened to him. 

“I describe it as feeling like someone finally reached into my throat right down to the pit of my stomach and grabbed all this poison and pulled it up,” explained Kakfwi. “Once it starts to come, you can’t stop it. The first time I had this disclosure, it was coming out of my nose, my mouth, my ears and my eyes. It’s like my body just said we want to get rid of this stuff, this poison, this puss that I’ve been holding.”

“I didn’t realize how twisted and damaged and traumatized I was. The first few counselling sessions, as painful as it was, were just the beginning,” stated Kakfwi. 

Once he could talk about all the beatings, whippings and trauma, it came time for the subject of forgiveness. But Kakfwi could find none in his heart. 

“They don’t deserve to be forgiven,” said Kakfwi.

Kakfwi shared a story that somebody once shared with him. He explains a guide took a very traumatized doctor fishing. The doctor had seen some horrible things and was so traumatized he needed a break from his practice. The doctor’s guide asked him to go for a walk and the guide carried a small box along the trail. 

The doctor asked why they were walking. The guide explained they had to get the doctor ready. The guide asked the doctor to put all this trauma in the box, explaining he would soon feel lighter. 

As they walked back to the boat, the doctor asked, are we going to come back for that box?

“It kind of works like that. The book is about me getting ready, too,” stated Kakfwi.

“I’ve had a very successful career,” explains Kakfwi. “I’ve had a good life. I have children and grandchildren, but I’m still wounded and it’s going to be with me until I leave this world.”

Kakfwi believes that he has to manage, share and let people know they can survive trauma. They can also forgive, even if forgiving is the hard part. 

“If you wanna know what it was like for indigenous people to cope with Canada through the 60’s and 70’s and then come out looking relatively okay and happy, read my book.”

Stoneface is available at the Prince Edward County Library or for order through Books & Company.