The builder: Agnes Giesbrecht's legacy in Mission endures

How a Mission woman spent her adult life helping Indigenous students get the education she was denied

📷 Agnes Giesbrecht/Facebook

This story first appeared in the Aug. 2 edition of the Fraser Valley Current newsletter. Subscribe for free to get Fraser Valley news in your email every weekday morning.

I say that if something needs to be done, I will do it.

Mary Agnes Giesbrecht was not usually a big talker.

She didn’t make big speeches. She didn’t talk much about her past or her time in residential school. She was soft-spoken.

Agnes was, more than anything, a do-er: a woman whose personal history, love for family, and desire to be involved in her community led to the creation of some of Mission’s most important community institutions for Indigenous people. A woman who, when she died in December, left behind a legacy found in buildings, organizations, and children.

Far from home

📷 Agnes Giesbrecht/Facebook

Agnes spent her adult life advocating for Indigenous students to receive an education she was denied.

Mary Agnes Giesbrecht grew up north of Harrison Lake, in an Indigenous foster home in Port Douglas. For her first five years, she spoke only St̓át̓imcets, the language of the people living amongst the towering mountains where coastal rainforests blend into rocky scrubland.

But Indigenous kids frequently weren’t allowed to stay in their communities in the ’50s. So Agnes ended up in Mission, where she attended St. Mary’s Indian Residential School. Another foster family accepted her, but then moved across the globe. Agnes, a ward of the nation, was left behind.

So she made her own way. She left school. She spied a handsome fellow crossing Main Street in Mission and said she would marry him. She did. Agnes and Clarence would have five kids, divorce, then marry each other again years later.

Agnes first spotted her future husband Clarence crossing the street in Mission. 📷 Agnes Giesbrecht/Facebook

Agnes didn’t talk much about her time in residential school with her daughters. Often, when she wasn’t feeling great, she would head down to the Fraser River and watch the water pass. For her daughter, Lori, that would be a cue to call her mom on the phone later.

Mostly, Agnes chose to be busy and involved. That meant church functions, leading youth groups, and involvement at the Mission Friendship Centre—which she helped start in the first place.

As Agnes’s children entered a school system that had previously failed her, she stressed the importance of education—and started to take a role in making sure the system would reciprocate.

“She pushed all of us kids to get educated,” her daughter Lori said. “Because she didn't complete her education, she wanted to make sure all the Indigenous students graduated high school because she knew how important it was.”

When Kerry, her youngest daughter, began attending Hatzic Elementary, Agnes joined the parental advisory committee.

“I think that she did feel cheated out of that education, whether it be in school or culturally,” Kerry said.

The legacy of the residential school system—combined with ongoing racism, the impacts of poverty, and geographical challenges—meant Indigenous students frequently lagged behind their colleagues and dropped out at higher rates. By the 1980s, officials were finally realizing that one-size-fits-all schools were failing Indigenous communities and their students.

The Mission School District, recognizing her passion for the subject, invited Agnes and two others (Robert Charlie and Virginia Joe) to discuss how the local schools might better assist Indigenous students—kids like her own children, and like she had once been.

That meeting would lead to the creation of Mission’s Indigenous education department, which was given the name Siwal Si’wes, meaning “our forefathers’ teachings.” Siwal Si’wes, as with similar programs and departments in other school systems, sought to find ways to help students overcome whatever obstacles might be in their way.

Kerry said her mother was particularly conscious of the barriers that caused students to drop out of school. There are opportunities for culturally appropriate schooling in nearby communities but Agnes wanted students to be able to get that help in Mission.

“She wanted the kids to stay in the school district that they were in,” she said, “because if you didn’t, you hop on a bus and sometimes you’re leaving super early in the morning to, like, Seabird [Island]…. They might tailor education more towards you as a student, but she saw a lot of people would drop out because you have to get up so early to hop on the bus. It’s easier just not to.

“So that gave her the fire and passion to make sure that the liaisons within the school district would help those students out.”

Agnes’s role in the program did not end with that meeting in the 1980s. It was only the beginning. Thirty-five years later, Agnes continued to sit on the advisory council for the program, sharing her input and providing a founder’s gentle guiding hand to educators who had been brought up in a different world. Today, Siwal Si’wes is still going and has played a key role in the education—and lives—of thousands of students.

As a child, Agnes had been thrust into a school system that stood, in many ways, opposed to the existence of Indigenous culture and beliefs. As a parent, she had sought to help create a better system for her children. And as an elder, she looked to push things forward, so her own grandchildren could find schools to be as welcoming as those of all the other kids in class.

“She stood for equity,” said Vivian Searwar, Siwal Si’wes’s district principal. “Long before the word equity was brought into the educational realm, that’s what she stood for. She stood for removing barriers for Indigenous learners and, above all, seeing them as successful learners in schools at whatever age they were at.”

Searwar said Agnes’s personal history and love for her family were at the core of her advocacy.

“She had her own experiences in Indian Residential Schools and saw a very different experience for her grandchildren,” Searwar said. “Her advocacy for her grandchildren was how she made change in Siwal Si’wes, because she brought that experience. She had her experience, then she saw her own kids’ experience and then her grandchildren’s experience and was able to go “OK, we’re not there yet, we need to do something else too.’”

Mission sits in the territory of several local First Nations, and close to many other sizable Stó:lō communities. But the existence of St. Mary’s Indian Residential School also brought to the town Indigenous people like Agnes from many other rural communities across the province. Many stayed, leaving the community with a large and diverse Indigenous community.

In 1973, Agnes was involved in the formation of Mission Friendship Centre, a key institution devoted to supporting those people. In the 1980s, she helped start Siwal Si’wes with other key figures. But her legacy was defined not just by those moments of creation, but by the decades that followed. (Agnes was supported throughout, her daughter said, by her husband Clarence, who was the “rock” of the family.) Even last year, as Agnes battled illness and continued her work with Siwal Si’wes, she was also still sitting on the Friendship Centre’s board and the the board of the Ucwalmicw All Nations Services Society, an organization (led by her daughter Lori) that has been focused on connecting Indigenous kids in the Fraser valley with much-needed school supplies. Agnes was a founding board member of UANSS, an organization created after a previous non-profit was closed in 2015.

Two decades ago, Agnes was honoured and profiled on the Mission Community Archives’ paths and pathfinders’ program, which recognizes and describes the legacy of the city’s extraordinary women. After Agnes died in December, at the age of 76, her Celebration of Life was packed with people who had worked alongside her in various community organizations.

“I know that my mom was involved with a lot of different communities and different projects,” Kerry said, “I didn’t realize just how much of an impact she was making until you see everybody at the celebration. It was pretty awesome to see.”

More honours have followed.

Siwal Si’wes has moved to create a scholarship in her name. And in February, Mission announced that Agnes would be recognized with an award for her efforts to promote Indigenous heritage in the city. Agnes was hailed for her work with Indigenous genealogy, her history with the Mission Friendship Centre’s society, and with Siwal Si’wes.

Mission’s politicians listened as a staff member described her impact.

“Her legacy within the Indigenous community will live on for generations.”

I am Agnes

A decade ago, before she was district principal, Vivian Searwar was a Grade 4 teacher working on a literacy project with her students. She recruited a group of Elders on a project called “Keep The Embers Burning.” Small groups of students were paired with Elders, who would talk about their lives and answer questions. At the end, the students created a poem that represented the Elder’s life.

Agnes Giesbrecht, whose traditional name was Tixten, was not prone to talking about herself much. But on that day 10 years ago, four young students in Mission gathered around her to learn about her life. As they listened, she talked. Then they went and wrote a poem to try to capture the essence of Mary Agnes Giesbrecht, from childhood to her senior years.

I am Agnes.
I wonder if the children are playing “rag ball”.
I hear the chopping of the wood.
I see the salmon being carried home to be canned.
I am from Samaqhuam.
I pretend that I am climbing up a tree.
I feel quiet inside when watching silent movies.
I touch the rope as I try not to slip on the icy path.
I worry about falling off the old man’s bike.
I taste the sweetly picked berries.
I am now 67 years old.
I understand that it is important to recognize youth for their accomplishments.
I say that if something needs to be done, I will do it.
I dream that I am winning the race.
I try to be a good grandmother.
I hope to give presents and cake to my grandchildren.
I am Tixten.

- composed by Grade 4 students of Ecole Christine Morrison Elementary School, 2013

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