By Aline Bouwman, Marketing and Communications

Content warning: This blog story contains information related to residential schools. If you are a survivor and need emotional or crisis support, contact the 24-Hour National Residential School Crisis Line at 1 866 925 4419.

“The history of residential schools is not just about the past – it’s about the present. The intergenerational impacts are still being felt today and the responsibility to respond belongs to all of us.”

– Carling Beninger

When History instructor Carling Beninger tells her students the last residential school in Canada didn’t close until 1996, they often react with shock. 

How could it take so long? And why did it? 

Although Canada officially announced in 1951 that Indigenous children would be integrated into public schools, the last residential school did not fully close until decades later.  

Carling, who specializes in Indigenous education and activism, researches why it took so long for the residential school system to be completely shut down – and why understanding the delays is crucial to truth and reconciliation today. 

The Canadian government first committed to desegregating Indigenous education in 1951 and started to place children into provincial schools, a process called school integration.

“But the federal government really dragged its heels,” Carling says. “They cited a lack of infrastructure and human resources to integrate children into the public school system.”

The result was devastating. The slow progress on school integration led to the creation of the hostel and home boarding programs, which forced thousands more Indigenous children into systems where they were subjected to the same harms of cultural genocide and abuse as their family members before them. 

“The process of integration still served to separate children from their families,” she says. “In these institutional settings, the same assimilation and abuse children suffered at residential schools continued to be perpetuated.”

The long road to closure 

Carling, a settler historian with French, British, Irish and German ancestry, says it was the pressure from Indigenous activists that finally led the government to shut the residential school system down. The federal government was persuaded because the residential school system was expensive to operate, and a segregated educational system did not fit into a world more focused on human rights and equality post-WWII.  

“But it took protests from Indigenous leaders, parents and communities, who demanded this change,” she emphasizes. 

She points to the 1972 policy paper “Indian Control of Indian Education” as a landmark moment. Adopted by the National Indian Brotherhood (now known as the Assembly of First Nations), it asserts the right of Indigenous peoples to control their children’s education and challenged the federal government to recognize self-determination in schooling. 

Carling’s current research focuses on protests against school integration staged by the Kainai Nation (Treaty 7). Through petitions and community organization, they fought to have their children remain on reserve to receive education to keep their families together.  

“The Kainai Nation was active in demanding rights and justice, even when the government ignored or resisted those demands,” Carling explains.  

Due to the activism, a high school was opened on the reserve, and in 1971 and a kindergarten was added. In 1986 Mi;kai’sto – Red Crow College opened as the fourth Indigenous college in Canada on the reserve.

Read more: This Applied Psychology alum looks at ways to combat anti-Indigenous racism 

The role of education 

For Carling, the lesson is clear: truth and reconciliation, in that order.  

“Truth means hearing from survivors, acknowledging the full scope of these systems and centering Indigenous perspectives,” she says. “That’s the work we all have to keep doing.” 

She believes education plays a pivotal role in ensuring this work continues. “When students leave my classes with a deeper understanding, they carry that knowledge into their families, workplaces and communities. That’s how broader social change starts.” 

Carling’s teaching methodology is rooted in fostering reconciliation through historical research and educating others on Indigenous history. Required reading for her courses draws heavily on survivor testimonies, newspaper articles, class action cases and government archives. Her students also hear directly from Elders who survived the residential school system and experienced school integration. 

Oral histories and community narratives, she stresses, are not secondary evidence. They are essential voices in understanding the past. 

“We need to include Indigenous storytelling practices in our course curriculums. It is part of reconciliation to honour those ways of knowing.”  

Creating this awareness allows students to bear witness to those stories and testimonies, Carling says.  

“Students respond to this kind of learning with a lot of emotion. They’re angry, and they want to know why it took so long for the residential school system to be shut down.” 

That anger, she says, can be constructive. “It drives them to understand the deeper structures that allowed these schools to persist.” 

Classroom discussions often lead to broader questions about reconciliation. Carling notes that many students are eager to know what concrete actions they can take.  

“Education is one of those steps. Learning the truth is a form of action in itself, and it helps create accountability,” she says. She also highlights the importance of engaging with local Indigenous communities and supporting Indigenous-led initiatives. 

Ultimately, her research and teaching return to one central point: Reconciliation is not a destination but an ongoing process.  

“The history of residential schools is not just about the past – it’s about the present. The intergenerational impacts are still being felt today and the responsibility to respond belongs to all of us,” Carling says.  

Learn more about the History program at Douglas College: douglascollege.ca/program/aahist