From residential school to one of Manitoba's 1st Indigenous nurses

One day, four-year-old Ann Thomas Callahanwas told to get ready. She put on adress, and was proud to wear it. Her father packed a lunch and together they travelled to the File Hills IndianResidential School near Balcarres, Sask., by horse and wagon.

She was excited about the prospect of being able to see her sister, who was already at the school, buton the ride through the bush, she noticed that her father was unusually quiet.

When they got to the school, her fatherheld her hand and walked her up to the veranda as other children were arriving at the school. When they reached the steps, he handed her off to her cousin and asked her to keep Ann calm.

As he walked away from her, that's when it sunk in her father was leaving her there.

He whipped the horses to speed up as Callahan chased after the wagon down the gravel road. She managed to catch up to him and that's when he stopped.

"He picked me up and said, 'I can't take you with me, my girl.'"

Callahan asked her father why she couldn't go back home.

"He said, 'We'll go to jail. We can't keep you children at home. You've got to stay here.'"

It was the first time she saw her father cry.

Callahan went on to spend14 years in residential schools. She opted to pursue more education and became one of the firstFirst Nations nurses in Manitoba.

Watch Ann Thomas Callahan recount how she made it to nursing school

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The residential school survivor was one of Manitoba's first Indigenous nurses

Life with her family

Before residential school, life was simple for her family in Peepeekisis First Nation. Her parents were successful farmers.

Her motherand father,Nora Keewatin and John Thomas,had previousmarriagesbut their spouses had died. Her parents were encouraged by an Indian agent to remarry, so they could continue farming.

Indian agents were non-Indigenous administrators who held a considerable amount of decision making powers over First Nations reserves and people.

In her own words, she wasn't supposed to be born. Hermother was 50 years old when she gave birth to her in 1935, and Callahanlikes to joke that they thought she was a tumour.

She was the youngest child from both families and described her mother as the leader of her family.

"Mom was the matriarch, she was the boss.Dad stayed on the sidelines. Mom was more strict with us, because she had more time with us."

She remembers the community as "rich and loving" and her parents as kind.

She remembers her parents taking her to pick saskatoon berries when she was four. She remembers them speaking the Cree language to each other and placing her down near a saskatoon bush, allowing her to fill her stomach. As she was eating, she heard them look at each other and say "Isn't she beautiful?"

"I thought to myself, that was so wonderful. I knew I was loved," said Callahan.

Not long after that, the Indian agent informed Thomas that he would have to send the baby of his family to residential school, so that he could continue farming.

At the residential school

To cope with the pain of being left at the school, Callahan told herself that other children were feeling the sameloneliness.

"As little kids, young ones, we would cry in our pillows at night, we were so lonesome," she said.

At the start of one school year in August, she heard the whimpers of a young boy crying at night.He cried every night until one night in October, andshe recalls his body being taken out of the residential school the next morning. She thinks he was ill but doesn't recall him receiving any medical treatment.

The boy's name was "Little Ronny." She found out later on that there were no records kept of Little Ronny's death.

She remembers finding comfort at night by sneaking into her sister's bed, only to be found by the dormitory's supervisors and punished with a strap to the backside for leaving her own bed.

"We were punished for trivial things. You step out of line and you were cuffed on your ears."

The food provided was scarce, the clothing scarce.She remembers staring out the windows during school hours andfeeling depressed.

"I always promised myself at the residential school I'd lie on the playground and look at the fluffy clouds and say 'Someday I'm going to own my own house," she said.

She spent 10 years at File Hills.The school was torn down in 1946 ("What a happy day! We were so happy"), and Callahanwent back home to Peepeekisis First Nation where she attended day school for one year.

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The teacher who inspired her

That one year of day school was life-changing, she said.It was there that she met a new teacherwho had just graduated from university.

Miss Eggensweillertaught them good grooming, biology and possessed an "expansive ideology." Callahanremembers her day school experience as being the complete opposite of residential school.

"It's like she really cared for us," she said.

When the report cards from day school came out, sheshowed them to her father.

"Are these your grades?" her fatherasked her.

He was surprised that shewas doing so well in school and asked her what she wanted to do. Shesaid that she wanted to keep on going to school, which meant that she would have to leave the province.

"There was no high school for us Indian kids in Saskatchewan," Callahansaid.

Her fatherencouraged her to talk to her sister-in-law, who was a war bride from Scotland, about nursing.

After talking with her, Callahan was convinced. She wanted to pursue nursing, but that meant attendinghigh school at the Birtle Indian Residential School in Manitoba.

Her father died when she was in Grade 10, but he hadinstilled confidence in his daughter that she would finish her education.

Facing racism in nursing training

In 1954 she graduated high school atBirtle. Immediately after graduation, she went into the nursing program atWinnipeg General Hospital.

For Callahan, going from residential schoolto a nursing programwas a scary experience.The quality of the education that she was getting at residential schoolwasn't up to par with her non-Indigenous classmates and she had to work twice as hard to catch up academically. She worked hard to conquer her science classes, but patients told hershe was gifted witha warm bedside manner.

During summer break from the nursing program, she went to work as a nurse's aide at a tuberculosis sanatorium in Fort Qu'appelle, Sask.

It was there that she got her first taste of discrimination in a professional environment.She remembers the kitchen stafftrying to bully her.

They would say things like "Dirty Indian, go back to your teepee," she said.

She didn't report it to her supervisors because she "didn't want to make trouble."

Throughout her nursing career, she was challenged with racism, but described it as being subtle.

Dream fulfilled

Callahan graduated from the nursing program in 1958 and began her career at Winnipeg General Hospital, working in the gynecology ward, and becamehead nurse.

"If I saw Aboriginal people, I would sidle up to them, because I knew they were scared.I would sit beside them and let them talk because many of them didn't speak English."

She was instrumental in getting Indigenous interpreters at the hospital, and advocated for Indigenous patients.

In 1973she left the hospital for aposition with a healthorganizationserving mostly Indigenous people in downtown Winnipeg.

She volunteered on many different projects outside of nursing, and went on to become a nursing instructor at Red River College in 1983, retiring in 1996.

After her retirement, she attended university and earned a bachelor'sand a master's degree.

Her efforts have been recognized and awarded by both the Indigenous and non-Indigenous community.

In 2007, the Winnipeg Health Sciences Centre named a building after her to honour her commitment to the health care sector in Manitoba.

But out of all her accomplishments, the one that she is most proud of wasthe ability to earn her own money, enabling her to fulfil the dream she had in the playground at residential school.

Callahan bought her own house in Winnipeg in 1973, and still lives there today. She said that's something that herparents would be proud of.

This story is part of our projectBeyond 94: Truth and Reconciliation in Canada that launches March 19.Read more stories in the series and look for further coverage this week.