Sisters of the 60s Scoop reunited

Nakuset, the director of Native Women’s Shelter of Montreal (NWSM), is well known for her work to support women’s rights, fight racism and raise awareness of First Nations culture for authorities and children in care. Much of the motivation for that work stems from the loss she endured after police in Thompson, Manitoba, took her and her two sisters to separate foster homes in a wave of government abductions of First Nations children now known as the 60s Scoop.

They would know nothing of each other for the rest of their childhood, until Nakuset reunited with her eldest sister, Sonya Murray, while in her 20s.

But there was another child unaccounted for – Rose Mary, known as “Snow White” in the family because of her resemblance to her German father. After her parents split up, the father won custody of her and took the northern Cree girl to Austria, only to leave her there and disappear.

Sonya and Nakuset spent years fruitlessly trying to find her. Until late June of this year, that is, when Sonya received a Facebook message from Rose Mary, who now lives in Horn, Austria.

She lives on a farm with her husband, daughter and 500 pigs and has a thick German accent, Nakuset says. The sisters finally talked with Rose in the first week of July, and Rose plans to visit next summer. Nakuset and Sonya are working on plans to travel to Austria.

The story of their reunion took place over a number of decades and began before they were even separated. Nakuset’s birth name, Margaret Murray, came from an early stepfather; John Murray was a wealthy mining surveyor near Flin Flon, Manitoba, who was fond of the girls.

“John Murray took care of us and took us under his wing,” Nakuset said. “He had custody of us for a while, but we went back into foster care when he died. He made sure that we got part of his estate.”

Nakuset was adopted by a Montreal Jewish family who hid her Native ancestry, telling her she was born in Israel. They told her that Native people were the dregs of society, that they were drug addicts and prostitutes. Today, she does not use her adoptive family’s name and did not want it used in this story.

“I don’t want to be affiliated with them in any way,” she said.

When she turned 21, she became eligible for the money John Murray had placed in trust for her.

“I left home at 18,” Nakuset said. “[Her adoptive parents] told me when I was 21 that they thought I was doing really well on my own, not asking them for anything, and they were going to give me some money, I just needed to sign over the estate.”

Her adoptive father claimed that John Murray was simply one of his coworkers and that the name on the document was an error – he claimed the money was from him.

“But my extended Jewish family thought this was ridiculous. They told me to get all the records, not just the one I was signing. I had be a detective and look up all the files – and that’s where I found Sonya, and all my other siblings. That’s how I met my biological family.”

Sonya, being older, had seen the trust records and had been sending letters to Nakuset through the trust company. Unfortunately, Nakuset’s adoptive parents intercepted and destroyed the letters before Nakuset could learn her sister was attempting to get in touch with her.

“I had no idea Sonya remembered me, because I didn’t remember her so much,” she said. “I didn’t have my Indian status and I didn’t know who my mother or my father was. I didn’t know anything. These records showed something. The trust company still had the original addresses of my half-siblings, so I wrote to every single one of them and explained who I was, who my mother was, and that I was looking for my Indian status and hoping someone could help me.

“One of my brothers said, ‘Oh my god, I used to change your diapers! I totally remember who you are.’ That’s how I got my Indian status and that’s how I got in touch with Sonya.”

The worst of it, Nakuset underlined, is that they had an older half-brother who had been looking after them. Responsible and caring, he could have raised the children, she said. But he was Native, and government policy was to place Native youth in non-Indigenous families.

Sonya and Nakuset recently wrote a story about their childhoods and their separation for the magazine Working It Out Together, which will be serialized in seven parts over the coming month. Nakuset doesn’t know how she’s going to feel when all the details of her difficult upbringing are finally made public. They were gearing up for it when they finally heard from their lost sister.

“So our story is coming out, and Rose gets in touch with us after all this time,” Nakuset marvelled.

But the suddenness of it all is also a bit of cause for shock. Talking about it is important. She’s brought her story to the media precisely because so few people know about the 60s Scoop and the damage it caused.

“What Sonya writes, it just makes you want to hug your children closer. I can’t imagine what she went through. No child should ever feel the way she felt. That’s why it’s so important that we have these stories out. The 60s Scoop is 20,000 children… They say 85% of the adoptions failed, which means 85% are struggling with addiction and drugs and homelessness. They don’t know where they belong. I should be one of those. I don’t know why I’m not.”

The response to their story has been uniformly positive, Nakuset said. She hopes it helps other abductees find their original family members.

“I know so many Jewish Indians! There are so many in Montreal all adopted through the Scoop. But I think people are kind of shy and they don’t think anyone wants to hear. I told my sisters: our message is getting out there and people want to know. Non-Indigenous people are learning and Native people are recognizing their stories.”