On Sugarcane’s fateful beginnings
When my co-director, Emily Kassie, asked me to collaborate, I told her I would take a couple of weeks to think about it. My family had a very traumatic connection to the Indian Residential Schools. I didn’t know the specifics, but I knew there was a story there, and I didn’t know if I was ready to touch that. In that time, she emailed the chief of [Williams Lake] First Nation, Willy Sellars, [who] called back and said, “The Creator has always had good timing.” When she told me she’d found a First Nation that [wanted to document their] search at St. Joseph’s Mission near Williams Lake, B.C., I was floored. Because, out of the 139 Indian Residential Schools in Canada, that was the school my family was sent to and where my father was born. It was like this story found them and then found us. And that made it something, ultimately, I couldn’t turn away from.
On the film’s personal nature
For the first year of filming, we didn’t record anything about my story or my family’s story. The agreement at the beginning was that Emily and I would be co-directors, not that I was going to be a participant. But as the story unfolded, it increasingly felt that the only right way to do this, given the other participants in this documentary were gifting us with their own traumatic stories, their own bravery in confronting this history of cultural genocide… The only right way — especially when you happen to be the son of the only known survivor of the incinerator at St. Joseph’s Mission — was to go there with my family’s story to reciprocate the bravery of people who did not have directing roles in this film. I will always be grateful for how I chose to live this moment of reckoning for my people and my family.