The novel Indian Horse by Richard Wagamese changed how I see Indigenous peoples’ history in Canada. Before reading it, I knew about residential schools from class but did not understand the personal pain they caused. The book uses Saul Indian Horse’s story to show cultural traditions, community values, and the long-term effects of injustices like forced removal of children. My perception shifted because the author makes these events feel real through specific characters and scenes. This essay explores how three key parts of the story—the family’s time at Gods Lake, Saul’s experiences at St. Jerome’s Indian Residential School, and the role of hockey—helped me understand resilience and identity better.
The Power of Family and Tradition at Gods Lake
One part that stood out was when Saul’s family travels to Gods Lake to heal. This showed me the strength of Indigenous community values before outside forces broke them apart. Saul’s grandmother Naomi teaches the old ways, like making rice ties and dancing the manoomin. She explains, “Rice is sacred. When Creator sent the Anishinabeg, the Ojibway, east from the Big Water to find their homeland, we were instructed to stop when we came to the place where food grew on the water” (Wagamese, 2012, p. 48). This quote helped me see how traditions connected people to the land and gave them purpose. Before the novel, I thought of Indigenous life as mostly past stories, but this scene showed it as living and meaningful.
Benjamin’s return and illness also changed my view. He arrives sick from school with tuberculosis, coughing blood into the rice during the harvest. The family tries old ceremonies, but tension rises when Saul’s mother wants a priest’s burial instead. Naomi says, “One who loves does not brandish fear or require it” (Wagamese, 2012, p. 55). This highlighted how Christianity was forced on families and created divides. It made me realise historical injustices were not just about schools but also about splitting apart traditions right inside the community. The novel challenged my idea that families simply accepted change; instead, they fought to hold on to their identity.
The Destruction of Residential Schools
The chapters about St. Jerome’s were the hardest to read but the most eye-opening. Saul describes being stripped of his culture: his hair cut, his name almost changed, and children beaten for speaking Ojibway. One boy dies after having his mouth washed with lye soap. Saul writes, “St. Jerome’s took all the light from my world” (Wagamese, 2012, p. 78). This quote hit me because it showed how the schools aimed to erase who children were, not just educate them. I had not understood how this created lasting shame and isolation.
Specific abuses, like the nighttime visits by priests and nuns, revealed the full damage. Saul later realises these moments stole his innocence and made the game of hockey a hiding place. The author portrays Indigenous life here as surviving extreme cruelty while still remembering better times. This section deepened my awareness of resilience: even when everything was taken, characters like Saul kept going. It also challenged any idea I had that schools were only strict; they were places of trauma that affected whole generations.
Hockey as a Way to Heal and Reclaim Identity
Hockey gives Saul a way back to joy and self-worth after the school. Father Leboutilier introduces the game, and Saul practices alone at night, imagining himself scoring. He says, “When I hit the ice I left all of that behind me” (Wagamese, 2012, p. 125). This showed how the sport became his escape and later his strength. At Manitouwadge with the Moose team, he finds belonging again. Playing with other Indigenous boys lets him feel part of something positive instead of just pain.
The story of the great-grandfather and the first horse also ties into this theme. The elder Shabogeesick brings a horse as a sign of change and teaches, “We must learn to ride each one of these horses of change” (Wagamese, 2012, p. 12). Hockey acts like that horse for Saul—a new skill he masters despite barriers. The novel made me see identity not as something fixed but as something that can be rebuilt through community and talent. It nuanced my understanding of healing: it is slow and imperfect, yet possible.
In conclusion, Indian Horse reshaped my view by giving concrete examples of how residential schools damaged families and traditions while showing the quiet power of resilience. The Gods Lake scenes taught cultural pride, the school chapters exposed injustices, and hockey illustrated personal recovery. Wagamese uses real-feeling quotes and events to make these points hit hard. Overall, the novel left me with more respect for Indigenous strength and a clearer picture of why healing and identity still matter today.
