The Symbolism of Orange: From Work to Consciousness

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From Mary Ladd

September 29, 2024

Guest opinion. Orange attracts attention. It makes us stop, pay attention and proceed with caution. Think of traffic cones warning of danger and the colorful T-shirts worn by construction workers that say “See me. Don’t hurt me.” Their bright color ensures safety in dangerous environments when hard, sweaty work is carried out. But orange goes beyond its role as a safety color. It is a beacon of deeper meaning, particularly for Indigenous communities.

Every year on September 30th, the color orange carries deep symbolism as it becomes part of the narrative of Orange Shirt Day. This day awakens sadness and resilience within us as we grapple with the ongoing impact of residential schools on Indigenous peoples across North America.

The legacy of Orange Shirt Day

The roots of Orange Shirt Day lie deep in a personal story of loss. In 1973, Phyllis Webstad, a survivor of Canada's residential school system, recounted how the new orange shirt her grandmother had given her was taken away on her first day of school. This simple act marked the beginning of a broader effort to strip Indigenous children of their culture, language and identity. The confiscation of the shirt symbolizes the systematic extermination these children endured, and now orange represents their suffering and the tenacity of the survivors

While Orange Shirt Day originated in Canada, residential schools existed in both Canada and the United States. These institutions, often run by religious organizations with state support, aimed to forcibly assimilate indigenous children into Western culture. The United States had a network of over 400 Indian boarding schools, some of which operated from the late 19th century to the mid-20th century. Schools like the infamous Carlisle Indian Industrial School in Pennsylvania attempted to “kill the Indian, save the man” by separating children from their languages, families, and cultural practices. This dark story connects the Indigenous peoples of Canada and the United States in a shared narrative of trauma and cultural survival.

My We Wai Kai Legacy: Uncovering Painful Truths

As a member of the We Wai Kai First Nation, located on Quadra Island and Campbell River in British Columbia, Orange Shirt Day touches on a deeply personal note. It forces me to confront the history of my family and my tribe. As I uncovered my community's past, I confronted a painful legacy left by residential schools that sought to erase our language, culture, and identity. Conversations with elders and survivors in our community revealed stories of systemic abuse, cultural oppression, and deep loss. These stories revealed how my people, like many other indigenous communities across North America, were victims of cultural genocide.

The testimonies I heard spoke of children being punished for speaking our native language and the banishment of traditional practices. One elder's story still haunts me: young in our tribe were subjected to systematic experiments that left many unable to have children. This intentional, targeted trauma was not an isolated incident; It was part of a calculated attempt to destroy the future of our community. These actions cast a long shadow over my people and shape us in ways that we continue to grapple with today.

The brutalization of girls in residential schools

Girls at these schools were subjected to unimaginable brutality. They were stripped of their cultural clothing, forced into uniforms and subjected to a ritual of dehumanization. Her long hair, sacred in many indigenous cultures, was ruthlessly cut off, an act aimed at stripping her of her identity and self-esteem.

In a particularly harrowing example, the Sacramento Native American Health Center reported in 2023 how two Washo sisters were punished for whispering in their indigenous language. Nuns dragged her into the kitchen, where a fork had been heating on the stove. The sisters were forced to stick out their tongues, which were then burned – a brutal attempt to incite fear and suppress the use of their native language. This act cut them off from their cultural roots and caused deep trauma.

The abuse didn't stop there. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada (TRC), founded in 2008, collected heartbreaking testimonies from survivors. The 2015 report revealed shocking cases of sexual assault by school staff against young girls. These girls endured invasive “health exams” that served as a cover for physical and sexual abuse. Many spoke of being beaten, starved and forced to do hard labor. Similar abuses occurred in the United States, where schools denied medical care until death was imminent, turning preventable illnesses into fatal outcomes. These institutions have inflicted a form of cultural genocide on an entire generation on both sides of the border.

Orange: A symbol of visibility and solidarity

As part of Orange Shirt Day, orange becomes a symbol of caution and calls on the world to stop and pay attention. Much like a construction worker's orange shirt that says, “See me, don't hurt me,” this color calls on society to recognize the history and ongoing struggles of Indigenous communities. For me, living thousands of miles from my home of We Wai Kai, wearing orange is a gesture of visibility and solidarity, a way to connect with the broader Indigenous experience in Canada and the United States. It boldly connects me to something greater while declaring, “We see your pain and we honor the resilience it took to endure such suffering.”

Orange as a call to action

In 2024, wearing orange is more than just a symbol; It's a powerful reminder that every child matters. Orange Shirt Day challenges us to move beyond platitudes and recognition and into action. It urges us to amplify the voices of survivors, recognize the intergenerational impact of these institutions, and address the ongoing challenges facing Indigenous peoples. In both Canada and the United States, the wounds of residential schools remain open, and healing will require a concerted effort.

For my We Wai Kai community, Orange Shirt Day provides an opportunity to share our stories, preserve our language, and reclaim the cultural practices that were forcibly taken from us. It is a day to honor the resilience of our ancestors and fight for the future of our children. When we wear orange, we evoke the strength of those who came before us and reaffirm our commitment to ensuring that such injustices are never repeated.

Reclaim the future

Given the losses my tribe and other indigenous communities have suffered, I find strength in the enduring beauty of We Wai Kai culture. The trauma of these institutions did not end with their closure; It resonates across generations and manifests itself in struggles with substance abuse, mental illness, and the breakdown of family structures. Yet we continue to endure, rebuild, and preserve our identities despite attempts to erase them. Today, with a modern flair of reclamation, our community hosts Monday evening Zoom language classes, open to those who, like me, live off-reserve and those who live closer to our homeland of British Columbia.

The Day of Truth and Reconciliation is not just a day of mourning. It is a call for collective healing that acknowledges the deep wounds left by colonial policies and actively works to restore what was lost. For the We Wai Kai and other indigenous communities in the United States and Canada, this process means reclaiming our languages, traditions and sovereignty.

Our orange shirts are more than just symbols – they are acts of defiance and hope. They represent our commitment to the truth, our honor for those who have suffered, and our commitment to the ongoing work of reconciliation. As I reflect on my own experiences and the stories of my tribe, I am reminded that despite attempts to silence and erase us, we are still here, remaining strong, and reclaiming our future.

Mary Ladd's editorial work appears in Mother Jones, Alta, UC Berkeley's Greater Good Science Center, and many health and writing anthologies. She collaborated with Anthony Bourdain and recently edited The Long COVID Reader. Mary is a proud member of the We Wai Kai First Nation in San Francisco.