Ottawa, Friday, November 2, 2007

I would like to begin this history forum by sharing an important part of my own personal history.

A huge void has entered my mother’s life and erased her memory. Alzheimer’s disease has thrown her into a relentless downward spiral.

But what troubled me about the irreversible erosion of her memory, was when dazzlingly clear memories would come to her, without warning.

My mother could all of a sudden remember facts, images, and places she had been; she could sing songs from her childhood and not forget a single word, but she had great difficulty remembering words she had just spoken.

So, little by little, she went back to places from her childhood, not knowing that she would never return from the past. Her present became nothing but the past. And then that past also disappeared forever behind a veil of silence and a blank stare.

And it is just that: without memory, we are empty. In spirit and in our hearts. We cannot think or grow or live without it.

In 2004, in Abuses of Memory, Todorov wrote: “Life has lost its battle against death, but memory wins the battle against nothingness.”

My mother, lost in the abyss of Alzheimer’s, has shown me how important it is to put down roots in a memory in order to survive.

A memory that is not like history—carved in stone or written in books—but is in perpetual motion, perpetual evolution.

I believe our memory is actually the sum of a multitude of memories, that it is made up of fragments, overlaps, ruptures and a variety of experiences.

What kinds of choices are we making to create this memory that we all share and why?

What are we hiding in our silences and lapses?

What do we remember from the past?

That is where institutions and specialists like you, people responsible for transcribing and transmitting history, come in.

When the Europeans arrived here, they considered the Americas a new world.

And in one fell swoop, we were able to wipe clean the slate of a very real world, a world that was the cradle of ancient civilizations.

For a very long time, those who had been living here for thousands of years, as well as their descendants, were seen only under the partial, and mostly biased, light of history.

It has taken a great deal of memory and historiography work—work that is by no means finished—and for us to finally listen to the voices of Aboriginals themselves, to recover entire chapters in the history of the Americas, chapters that had disappeared from memory, were rewritten, had their meaning twisted or were simply pushed aside without a second thought.

Like all people of African descent in the Americas, I am the result of an attempt to erase history; my ancestors, who were brought here as slaves, were dispossessed of themselves, of their memories, their languages, even their names.

I like to think that we are writing Canada’s history together and that each chapter—whether relating the story of First Nations, Métis, or Inuit people, the story of immigrants, the story of French Canada or English Canada—each chapter is really about all of us.

Each chapter enriches us and brings a unique vision of the world to our country.

Next year will mark the 400^th anniversary of the founding of Quebec City and, at the same time, 400 years of a Francophone presence in the Americas. And I hope that every Canadian will proudly celebrate this important chapter in history, in our history.

I wonder how many Canadians are unaware of how much the French language and culture are a part of who we are—all of us—a part of our roots, our culture, our Canadian identity?

To look into the face of history is to recognize its ups and downs, to acknowledge the periods of rebellious unrest interspersed with the periods of peaceful harmony. It is to take its full measure, to see where it has been and where it is headed.

In order to explain our modern reality, we must measure today’s facts against history, a history that is concerned with the truth.

I see in this willingness to bring the past into the present the possibility of expanding our points of view, of changing mentalities and of constantly and forever improving the fate of humanity.

History allows us to look at the world through eyes that have thousands of years of experience.

It is through history that we continue to question the world and life.

It is this ability to understand where we come from and where we are going, to explain, to think—everything that allows us to be amazed by how far we have come—that enables us to determine with increasing strength and clarity what we want to build and achieve together and how we want to live together.

As I said this morning at the ceremony for the Governor General's Award for Excellence in Teaching Canadian History, I worry about how little importance our society places on history and all the misunderstandings that occur when we fail to refer to the past.

I worry about us creating a society without history, one that lives only in the moment and no longer relies on memories of the past to cast new light on the obscurities of the present or plan for the future.

All too often, history and the very act of thinking are scorned, and limits are placed on understanding.

We live in a time in which forums for thought and reflection are being sacrificed in the name of haste, entertainment and “close enough.”

Making room for history in our education systems, our public spaces and our discussion groups is a means of ensuring that Canadians are free, responsible and enlightened.

In order for Canadians to be truly informed, it is essential that they look past the straight line of the present and learn to think and see things in a broader perspective.

The best way to develop critical thinking is to consider and question the concerns, responsibilities and choices of our ancestors, and compare them with our own.

This critical thinking allows us to see beyond the ideas presented to us, beyond limited ideologies. It allows us to explore and innovate.

History reminds us that the societies that favoured reflective thought are the ones that enriched our human heritage the most.

Coming into the world is marking one’s place in history. And it is having the power and duty to sometimes change its course. For the greater good. For the future and for the world.

We must never forget that the history of the world is made up of our individual histories, which time has put into perspective.

History exists beyond the time of our own lives and forms the memory of the places we live.

That memory is what is left of us and what you, as historians and teachers, perpetuate by adding it to humanity’s long history.

Thank you for undertaking this very important work, which helps us find deep roots in the past, roots that have grown like rhizomes, reaching out over great distances and nourishing our lives and the lives of generations to come.

Once again, congratulations to the recipients of the Governor General's Award for Excellence in Teaching Canadian History and the Pierre Berton Award.

May your discussions be open and hold a promise for the future.

I look forward to learning your histories.