History of Residential Schools in British Columbia

British Columbia’s experience with residential schools spans more than a century of profound impact on Indigenous peoples. From their beginnings as church-run “mission” schools in the colonial era to their expansion under federal policy, these institutions were tools of forced assimilation that operated in BC from the 1860s until the 1980s. Generations of First Nations (and some Métis and Inuit) children in BC were removed from their families and communities and placed into residential schools, where the goal was to erase Indigenous cultures and languages and replace them with Euro-Canadian norms. This narrative traces the history of the residential school system in British Columbia – from its early establishment and growth, through its peak and eventual decline, to recent efforts to acknowledge the truth and heal. It is a story of a government-sanctioned attempt at cultural destruction, the resilience of Indigenous communities, and a continuing journey toward truth and reconciliation.

Early Church-Run Schools in Colonial BC (1860s–1870s)

The roots of residential schooling in British Columbia lie in the colonial period, before BC was part of Canada. Christian missionaries, particularly Roman Catholic orders, established the first boarding schools for Indigenous children in the region. In 1863, Catholic missionaries opened St. Mary’s Mission School in Mission (on the Fraser River east of Vancouver) – the first residential school in what is now BC. At this time, British Columbia was still a British colony, and churches took the lead in creating schools aimed at converting and “civilizing” Indigenous youth. These early schools were relatively small and church-funded, but they set the pattern for what was to come. Indigenous children as young as five were separated from their parents and taught religion, basic trades, and European customs, often with the belief that this would assimilate them into settler society. The colonial government provided little oversight or funding; it was largely a church-driven initiative rooted in a paternalistic mindset that European Christian ways were superior. By the late 1860s and 1870s, a few similar church-run boarding schools and mission day schools existed in BC (for example, on Vancouver Island and in the Interior), but they were limited in scope due to the churches’ financial constraints and the geography of the rugged province.

When British Columbia joined Confederation in 1871, the stage was set for a larger partnership between church and state in Indigenous education. Under the terms of Confederation, the federal government took responsibility for “Indians and lands reserved for Indians,” which included education. This meant that after 1871, federal Indian policy – including the emerging residential school system being developed in other parts of Canada – would extend to BC. In these early years, Indigenous communities in BC had varied responses to mission schools. Some leaders initially supported education for their children, hoping they would learn settler skills to navigate the new world; others were wary or opposed, recognizing the threat to their culture. Still, through the 1870s, church-operated schools continued in BC in a modest way, planting the seeds of what would become an expansive, and much more coercive, system in the decades ahead. The idea that would define the system – that Indigenous children must be separated from their families and immersed in Euro-Canadian culture to “save” them from their own traditions – was already present in these early institutions.

Federal Assimilation Policy and School Expansion (1880s–1920s)

In the 1880s, the residential school system became formal government policy across Canada, and British Columbia soon saw a rapid expansion of these schools under federal direction. Prime Minister John A. Macdonald’s government was influenced by U.S. models of “industrial schools” for Indigenous children. In 1879, officials commissioned a report by Nicholas Flood Davin, which recommended Canada establish a network of boarding schools to aggressively assimilate Indigenous children into Euro-Canadian society. As a result, by the early 1880s the federal government began funding and partnering with churches (Catholic, Anglican, Methodist/Presbyterian, and later United Church) to run residential schools nationwide. BC, with its large Indigenous population and many missionary outposts, became a focus for this policy. The Indian Act – the overarching law governing Indigenous peoples – was amended in the 1880s to facilitate the creation of these schools and to compel Indigenous children to attend them. In 1884, amendments to the Indian Act even outlawed important Indigenous cultural practices (like the potlatch in BC), reflecting a broader agenda of cultural suppression that went hand-in-hand with the schools.

By the late 19th and early 20th century, a network of residential schools spread across British Columbia. Some of the early church-run schools, such as St. Mary’s in Mission, now received government support and continued to operate, while new schools were established in different regions of the province. For instance, the Kamloops Indian Residential School opened in 1890 in the Interior; run by the Catholic Church, it would become one of the largest and most infamous residential schools in Canada. On Vancouver Island, schools like Kuper Island Residential School (opened in 1890 on a small island off the coast) and Alberni Residential School (opened in 1891) took in children from coastal and island First Nations. In northern BC, schools such as Lejac (Fraser Lake) and Lower Post (near the Yukon border) were established to reach remote communities. By the early 1900s, virtually every Indigenous child in BC was within the reach of the residential school system – if not nearby, then by being transported far from home. Children from Haida Gwaii, for example, might be sent to schools on Vancouver Island or the mainland, hundreds of kilometers away from their families.

The government’s official rationale was that these were “education” institutions to prepare Indigenous youth for life in Canadian society. In reality, academic learning was scant. The schools in BC, as elsewhere, put heavy emphasis on industrial and manual training: boys were taught farming, carpentry, or shoe-making; girls were taught cooking, sewing, and domestic work. Much of each day was spent working – tending fields, raising livestock, doing laundry – to make the schools self-sustaining. Classrooms were often under-resourced, and many children did not progress beyond an elementary-level education. More central to the curriculum was the deliberate eradication of Indigenous identity. School authorities – typically priests, nuns, and other church staff – enforced strict rules against speaking Indigenous languages or practicing any traditional customs. In BC, a province with tremendous Indigenous linguistic diversity (Salishan, Wakashan, Tsimshianic, Athabaskan languages and more), this rule had a devastating effect: children caught speaking their mother tongue could expect severe punishments. Cultural and spiritual practices were denounced as “heathen” and banned. The overriding goal, as one government official infamously stated, was “to kill the Indian in the child” – to strip away the children’s Indigenous culture and assimilate them into a Euro-Christian identity.

Assimilation, Suffering, and Resistance (1920s–1940s)

By the 1920s, the residential school system in British Columbia was at its height in terms of reach and coercive power. In 1920, the federal government made school attendance compulsory for Indigenous children between the ages of 7 and 15 (amending the Indian Act to this effect). For parents in BC, it became effectively illegal to keep their children out of residential school; failing to surrender children to government agents or missionaries could result in fines or even jail. This led to even more children being taken from their communities, often by force. Indigenous families in BC’s villages and reserves would see government Indian Agents or police come and insist the children of school age be sent to the designated residential school. Some parents hid their children or tried to evade agents, but many felt they had no choice. The 1920s and 1930s saw the highest enrollment in BC’s residential schools. Institutions like Kamloops, Kuper Island, St. George’s (Lytton), St. Michael’s (Alert Bay), and others were filled with children from all over the province. Siblings were frequently separated, either sent to different schools or kept in strict segregation by gender at the same institution – a traumatic experience that broke family bonds. The resultant sense of isolation was profound: children could go years with only minimal contact with their parents, and even brothers and sisters might only wave to each other across a dining hall, if at all.

Life in the residential schools of BC during this era was characterized by a regime of harsh discipline, cultural suppression, and, all too often, outright abuse. Former students have recounted the daily reality of hunger and fear. Food was typically insufficient and of poor quality – malnutrition was common. This was tragically ironic given that many schools had gardens and farms tended by the children; however, the best produce and meat might be sold or given to staff, while students ate thin porridge and stale bread. At some schools in BC (as elsewhere in Canada), administrators and even government researchers conducted unethical nutritional experiments on malnourished children. A notorious example occurred at the Alberni Residential School in the 1940s, where, without consent, some children were denied essential nutrients or given experimental vitamin supplements to study the effects of diet on health. Such callous treatment added to the physical hardships. Disease was another ever-present threat. Overcrowding and poor sanitation, combined with weakened immune systems, made illnesses like tuberculosis and influenza run rampant. Many children fell gravely ill; tuberculosis in particular claimed the lives of a great number of Indigenous children in the schools. The death rates were shockingly high – in the early decades, some schools in Western Canada (including BC) saw up to a quarter or even half of the children not survive to return home. Most were buried in simple graves near the schools, often without great care or records, leading to the “unmarked graves” that would be rediscovered many decades later.

Beyond neglect, many students endured physical and sexual abuse at the hands of those charged with their care. Accounts from nearly every BC residential school describe routine beatings, whippings, and other cruel punishments for minor infractions. Speaking one’s Native language, for instance, could result in having one’s mouth washed out with lye soap, or worse. Some survivors from BC schools have described a particularly horrific punishment: needles or pins pushed into the tongue of a child caught speaking an Indigenous language. Such brutality was intended to instill fear and obedience. Sadly, physical abuse often crossed into sexual abuse. Priests, ministers, and lay staff – predominantly male, but sometimes female staff as well – took advantage of the vulnerable children. In some schools, sexual predation was rampant and persisted for years. Decades later, in court cases, judges would describe certain BC institutions as having been essentially “institutionalized pedophilia,” acknowledging the scale of the crimes. Students had little recourse to escape abuse. Running away was extremely dangerous: BC’s schools were frequently in remote areas, and children who attempted escape faced long journeys through forests or across water. Some did flee – there are stories of children drowning while trying to swim away from Kuper Island school, or freezing to death attempting to walk hundreds of miles from inland schools. Those who were caught running away were severely punished, and so were other children collectively, which discouraged attempts. Still, resistance and resilience took many forms. Children found small ways to rebel or to keep their cultures alive – by whispering their language out of earshot of supervisors, or by holding onto memories of home. Parents and communities, on their side, continued to protest and petition for better treatment or the return of their children, though they had little power against federal laws at the time.

Decline and Last Days of the Schools (1950s–1980s)

After World War II, the residential school system in British Columbia (and Canada broadly) began a long process of decline. Several factors contributed to this shift. Internationally and domestically, attitudes were slowly changing: the world had become more aware of human rights after the war, and Canada was increasingly criticized for its treatment of Indigenous peoples. Within Indigenous communities, leaders were becoming more vocal in demanding rights and control over education. Moreover, the federal government started to acknowledge (at least internally) that residential schools were not achieving their stated goal of assimilating Indigenous people into mainstream society – instead, they were leaving Indigenous youth uneducated, traumatized, and alienated. In 1948, the compulsory attendance law was dropped from the Indian Act, meaning it was no longer legally required for every Indigenous child to attend a residential school. In practice, however, many Indigenous families in BC continued to feel coerced or had no other schooling option for their children, especially in remote areas where no alternative schools existed. Still, the end of mandatory enforcement marked the beginning of a policy shift.

During the 1950s and 1960s, the federal government gradually moved toward integrating Indigenous children into public schools or establishing day schools closer to home. In British Columbia, this meant that fewer new admissions were being sent to far-away residential boarding schools, especially if a provincial public school was accessible nearby. Some residential schools began to operate more as hostels or student residences for children who lived too far from any town, while attending classes at day schools off-site. This period also coincided with the era now known as the “Sixties Scoop,” where thousands of Indigenous children in Canada (including BC) were taken from their families through the child welfare system and placed in foster care or adoption with non-Indigenous families. While separate from the residential school system, the Sixties Scoop reflected a continuation of the belief that Indigenous children were better raised away from their communities – a tragically similar pattern of cultural disruption. It further diminished the use of residential schools as a direct tool of assimilation, as child welfare became another mechanism.

By the late 1960s, a significant turning point came when the churches’ direct involvement in running the schools began to wane. In 1969, the Department of Indian Affairs ended its formal partnership with the churches and took over direct administration of most of the remaining residential schools. This was partly due to mounting criticism of the schools’ poor conditions and partly due to changes in government policy (the same era as Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau’s ill-fated “White Paper” on Indigenous policy, which proposed abolishing Indian status – an idea fiercely opposed by Indigenous leaders). In British Columbia, through the 1970s, one by one the residential schools were shut down or transformed. Some were turned over to bands or tribal councils to run as local schools or community facilities. Others were simply closed due to declining enrollment and the recognition of their failures. Indigenous communities in BC were increasingly asserting the need for control of their own education. In 1973, a new federal policy allowed band councils to start taking control of on-reserve schooling. That same year, the landmark Calder case in BC (which recognized Aboriginal title in Canadian law) signaled a new era of Indigenous empowerment that would also influence social programs like education.

Through the 1970s and early 1980s, the last handful of residential schools in British Columbia closed their doors. Notably, St. Michael’s Residential School in Alert Bay, which had operated since 1929, closed in 1975. The Kamloops Indian Residential School, once the largest in the province, closed in 1977. Christie Residential School (also known as Kakawis) on Meares Island near Tofino, which served Nuu-chah-nulth children, shut down in 1983. And in 1984, St. Mary’s Mission School in Mission – the first school that had opened back in 1863 – became the last residential school in BC to cease operations. This closure symbolically bookended the era of residential schools in the province, after 121 years. (For context, the last federally-run residential school in all of Canada closed in 1996 in Saskatchewan, illustrating how the system persisted in some regions longer than in BC.) By the mid-1980s, no Indigenous children in British Columbia were being forced into the old residential boarding school model. However, the damage was done: thousands of Indigenous people in BC were now adults who had grown up in the schools, many of them bearing deep psychological, physical, and cultural wounds from their experiences. Communities were grappling with the intergenerational trauma that manifested in numerous ways – family breakdown, loss of parenting knowledge, substance abuse, mental health struggles, and a deep sense of pain and disenfranchisement. The 1980s also saw the beginning of former students speaking out more widely about what they had endured. As the schools closed and the strictures of silence lifted, survivors felt safer to share their stories, and Canadian society began to learn the truth of what had happened behind those institution walls.

Truth and Reconciliation: Confronting the Legacy (1990s–2010s)

With the residential schools closed, the 1990s marked a new chapter focused on reckoning with this dark history. In British Columbia, as elsewhere, survivors of residential schools started to seek justice and acknowledgment. One of the first major lawsuits by residential school survivors was filed in BC in 1989, signaling a wave of legal actions to come. Survivors sued the federal government and the churches for the abuses they suffered – sexual assaults, beatings, and the trauma of forced family separation. These lawsuits were initially fought by the institutions, but as their numbers grew into the thousands, it became clear that a comprehensive resolution was needed. The mounting lawsuits, alongside growing media attention to survivors’ testimonies (such as Phil Fontaine’s public disclosure in 1990 of the abuse he suffered, which resonated nationwide), pushed churches and the Canadian government to finally admit wrongdoing. One by one, the churches that had run residential schools issued formal apologies: the United Church of Canada in 1986, the Anglican Church in 1993, and various Catholic entities in the 1990s (though the Catholic Church as a whole did not issue a collective apology at that time). In 1998, the Canadian government offered a “Statement of Reconciliation,” acknowledging the harms of residential schools and creating the Aboriginal Healing Foundation to support community healing projects.

A major turning point came in the early 2000s through negotiation of the Indian Residential Schools Settlement Agreement (IRSSA). Finalized in 2006, this was a class-action settlement – the largest in Canadian history – encompassing tens of thousands of survivors, including many from BC. The IRSSA provided financial compensation to survivors, funding for healing services, and crucially, it established the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC). The TRC, which began its work in 2008, was tasked with uncovering and documenting the truth of the residential school system, commemorating survivors, and promoting reconciliation. Over the next several years, the TRC gathered testimony from survivors across Canada. In British Columbia, large public hearings and events were held – for instance, a national event in Vancouver in 2013 drew thousands of survivors and members of the public to witness statements and ceremonies. Survivors from BC’s many different schools recounted their stories, often publicly for the first time. The TRC provided a platform for Indigenous communities to share their pain and seek recognition, and for the broader public to learn this history.

In 2008, as this process was beginning, the Canadian Prime Minister, Stephen Harper, delivered an official apology in Parliament on behalf of the Government of Canada to Indigenous peoples for the residential school system. This apology – which explicitly mentioned the goal of assimilation and the abuses that occurred – was broadcast across the country and viewed by many survivors in BC who had waited a lifetime for such acknowledgment. It was an emotional moment, though for some it was only a first step. The work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission culminated in 2015 with a comprehensive report and 94 Calls to Action. The TRC’s final report unflinchingly termed the residential school system a policy of “cultural genocide.” It detailed the systematic attempt to destroy Indigenous languages, cultures, and families, and it documented over 6,000 confirmed deaths of children at the schools (while noting that the true number is likely much higher, due to poor record-keeping and unmarked graves). Several of the TRC’s Calls to Action focused on education, memorialization, and the need to locate and identify the children who died at residential schools. In British Columbia, the TRC’s findings led to greater public awareness, incorporation of this history into school curricula, and many acts of commemoration. One grassroots initiative that began in BC – Orange Shirt Day – became a national movement during this time. Orange Shirt Day started in Williams Lake in 2013, inspired by the story of Phyllis Webstad, a BC survivor whose new orange shirt (a gift from her grandmother) was taken from her on her first day at a residential school in the 1970s. Wearing orange each September 30th became a way to honor the children who went to residential schools and affirm that “Every Child Matters.” This, along with the TRC’s work, helped non-Indigenous Canadians begin to understand the legacy and ongoing impact of residential schools, setting the stage for further action.

Unmarked Graves and the Road Ahead (2020s)

Even after the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, the legacy of residential schools in British Columbia continues to evolve, with new revelations and efforts toward healing in recent years. A haunting aspect of this history is the matter of unmarked graves at former school sites – something long known within Indigenous communities but only recently brought to wider light. For generations, survivors and Indigenous families spoke of children who went to school and never returned, of classmates who died or disappeared and were buried on school grounds without ceremony. The TRC had identified over a hundred cemeteries or burial sites, but resources and technology were needed to investigate further. In the spring of 2021, this painful truth captured national and international attention. In May 2021, the Tk’emlúps te Secwépemc First Nation announced that a ground-penetrating radar survey at the site of the former Kamloops Indian Residential School (in Kamloops, BC) had located what appeared to be 215 unmarked graves. The news confirmed what elders and survivors had long asserted – that many children had died at the school (often of illness or neglect, sometimes under tragic circumstances) and were buried without proper markers, their deaths often not even communicated to families.

The discovery in Kamloops was a watershed moment. It triggered an outpouring of grief and reflection across Canada, and especially in British Columbia where many communities have similar sites. In the weeks and months that followed, numerous other First Nations in BC undertook searches at their local former residential school sites. Grim findings emerged from several locations: for example, the Penelakut Tribe (formerly Kuper Island) reported over 160 unmarked graves near the Kuper Island school site; the St. Eugene’s Mission site (Cranbrook, BC) revealed evidence of approximately 182 unmarked graves; and at the former St. Joseph’s Mission near Williams Lake (Cariboo region), investigators found over 90 potential graves in early 2022. The Kamloops discovery in particular resonated strongly – Kamloops had been one of the largest residential schools in Canada, operating from 1890 to 1978, and its legacy looms large in the province’s collective memory.

These revelations have further galvanized efforts at reconciliation and healing. The federal and BC provincial governments have committed funding to assist First Nations in the difficult work of searching for and commemorating the children who died. Communities are leading the process, deciding how to honor their lost children according to their own cultural protocols. In BC, memorials and healing gatherings have taken place at former school sites. The orange shirt has become an even more potent symbol – in 2021, the Canadian government declared September 30 (Orange Shirt Day) to be the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, a new statutory day of reflection, responding to one of the TRC’s Calls to Action. British Columbia, home to many survivors and intergenerational survivors, has been actively observing this day with ceremonies, educational events, and moments of silence to remember the children. Public awareness in BC about residential schools is perhaps higher now than ever before, as conversations about colonialism, Indigenous rights, and reconciliation have entered the mainstream. This has also led to renewed scrutiny of historical figures and institutions: for example, there have been calls to revoke honors given to architects of the system and to rename buildings or streets that bear their names.

While a great deal of pain has resurfaced with the finding of unmarked graves, Indigenous communities in British Columbia continue to demonstrate resilience and hope. Many survivors have spent the past decades working to heal and to educate others about what happened. Indigenous languages that the schools tried to obliterate are being revitalized in BC through immersion programs and culture camps. Acts of resurgence – from totem pole carvings raised in honor of survivors, to cultural gatherings on the grounds of former schools – show that the cultures and spirits that the residential school system attempted to extinguish have endured. There is also a greater willingness among non-Indigenous Canadians to listen and to acknowledge the truth of these histories. Reconciliation is understood not as a one-time event but as an ongoing process. In recent years, the Pope (as head of the Catholic Church, which ran many BC schools) came to Canada and offered an apology to Indigenous peoples for the church’s role – a moment that many BC Indigenous leaders witnessed, though opinions vary on its impact. The provincial government in BC has committed to align its policies with the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP), a framework that includes addressing historical injustices like residential schools.

The story of residential schools in British Columbia is thus continuing to unfold. It is a story that began with colonial domination and an attempt at cultural genocide, led to unspeakable suffering for thousands of children and their families, and is now in a phase where the truth is widely recognized and efforts at healing are being made. The legacy is a heavy one: almost every Indigenous family in BC has been touched by the residential school system, through a parent, grandparent, or other relative who attended, often with lasting trauma. Yet, the strength of those survivors and their descendants is evident in the resurgence of Indigenous pride and identity across the province. By learning and acknowledging this history – in schools, in public ceremonies, and in our collective consciousness – British Columbians take steps toward ensuring that such injustices are never repeated. The history of residential schools in BC, once buried and ignored, is now taught and spoken of openly, which is a crucial part of the healing journey. As communities honor the memories of the children who never came home and celebrate the resilience of those who did, they remind us that reconciliation is not just about looking back at what happened, but also about committing to a better, more just future together.

Kamloops Indian Residential School, circa 1930. Source: Archives Deschâtelets via Wikimedia Commons.

New classroom building at Kamloops, circa 1950 — Kamloops school classroom building, circa 1950. Source: Library and Archives Canada via Wikimedia Commons.

Kuper Island Indian Residential School, 1941 — Kuper Island (Penelakut) Indian Residential School, 1941. Source: Library and Archives Canada via Wikimedia Commons.

St. Michael’s Indian Residential School, Alert Bay — St. Michael’s Indian Residential School (’Namgis House), Alert Bay. Source: Flickr (CC BY 2.0) via Wikimedia Commons.

St. Eugene’s Mission building near Cranbrook — Former St. Eugene’s Mission school building (now a resort), near Cranbrook. Source: Christopher Eugene Lee, public domain via Wikimedia Commons.

Ground‑penetrating radar cart mapping graves in a historic cemetery — Ground‑penetrating radar used to map graves in a historic cemetery. Source: Vadams, CC BY‑SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.