I was sent to residential school at the age of six years old. Out of my brothers, which were 4 other brothers and two sisters, I was the only one that did not spend very long in residential school. Under a year I was adopted by another family, named Eddie and Maria Alexander from Alexandria First Nations. They had a lot of courage and a lot of trust and a lot of patience and respect in how to look after a child, compared to how many communities are suffering. They knew how to look after me, to love me, to care for me and to be there for me — support me. They were unlike my parents, because my parents were alcoholics, that would yell and holler. But these two didn’t — they took it to heart every time I hit them. They took it to heart every time I cried. They took it to heart every time I tried to run away from them. But they kept on bringing me back. Because where we just picked you up from, Residential school, is a deadly sickness, a deadly disease. And if you go, you’ll never come out alive, you’ll never come out of it ….