System failed adoptive parents involved in Sixties Scoop, says adoptee
'Kids are kids,' Gord Petruic said of his childhood and being Indigenous in a white village
Gord Petruic, an adoptee of the Sixties Scoop, says the system failed both him and his adoptive parents — even as he says he had a good life growing up in Avonlea, Sask.
It's a sentiment not often heard by a child of the Sixties Scoop, the more than 20-year-long period which saw Indigenous children taken from their families and adopted out to non-Indigenous families.
These children suffered the loss of their cultural identity and language, sometimes permanently.
Petruic, however, credits his adoption with instilling in him a strong sense of work ethic. Petruic grew up a farm boy, a son to two curlers who were active in the community. He had a job delivering the town's newspaper.
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Petruic said he doesn't like the term "scoop" when referring to children who were adopted out; he understands why it is used, but can't help but think of his adoptive parents.
"They just wanted a child, you know, and they took me in," he said. "I always think the system kind of failed them, in a way, too."
The federal government failed to provide adequate resources, Petruic said, to help keep him connected with his Indigenous identity.
Avonlea was also only about 350 kilometres southwest of the band he belonged to, Key First Nation.
"My mother surely tried," he said. "She tried her whole life to take me around. … But at the same time, there's only so much a mother can do for her child. I think the system, in lots of way, failed her and failed me in immersing us in that."
Petruic said while he wouldn't trade his years in Avonlea, the journey to reconnect with his Indigenous identity is ongoing.
'Kids are kids'
"Avonlea was very accepting of me in a lot of ways," he said.
But there were incidents growing up, too, that made Petruic realize there were parts of him he couldn't quite place.
"I always wondered where my stubbornness, resilience and my ability to just have open arms to everybody — and you see that with your family over there [on reserve]," he said, crediting his Indigenous heritage. "It's kind of funny how it all mixes in to make you one person."
He adds that his brown skin was always noticed by kids who knew he was an Indian and made sure he knew it, too.
"Kids are kids," Petruic said, noting there were other kids never blinked an eye at him.
His family, Petruic said, always made him feel welcome.
"I always have a lot of pride in that family for being that way, accepting us and making us feel like part of the family."
He had four siblings, two brothers and two sisters, "all some sort of Indigenous." One brother has since passed away due to suicide. "That's part of the journey, I guess," he said.
Both sides of the fence
Avonlea wasn't without racism, but Petruic said it was different when he left.
He was no longer just Gord Petruic from Avonlea.
"You're a native guy and they don't know you and they treat you differently," he said. "It made for an interesting journey and a lot of combativeness inside myself, fighting over … who am I?"
That challenge is something Petruic still deals with. The internal battle, not the racism, is the hardest part for him.
"They are two worlds that don't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things so you get it on both sides of the fence."
Petruic said he is at peace with the life he lives now and his journey to reconnect with his Indigenous identity.
"I see myself as a person that grew up the way he grew up, who was lucky enough to find his way back, because there's lots [of adoptees] that don't."
With files from Saskatchewan Weekend