The Symbolism of Orange: From Work to Awareness

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By Mary Ladd

September 29, 2024

Guest Opinion. Orange commands attention. It makes us stop, take notice, and tread carefully. Think of road cones warning of danger and construction workers' bright shirts saying, "See me. Don’t hurt me." Their vibrant hue ensures safety in hazardous environments as they do hard, sweaty work. Yet, orange transcends its role as a safety color. It is a beacon of deeper meanings, especially for Indigenous communities.

Every year on September 30th, the color orange carries profound symbolism as it becomes part of Orange Shirt Day's narrative. This day stirs sorrow and resilience within us as we confront the enduring impacts of residential schools on Indigenous peoples across North America.

The Legacy of Orange Shirt Day

The roots of Orange Shirt Day run deep into a personal story of loss. In 1973, Phyllis Webstad, a survivor of Canada’s residential school system, shared how the new orange shirt her grandmother gave her was taken away on her first day at school. This simple act marked the beginning of a broader effort to strip Indigenous children of their culture, language, and identity. The shirt’s confiscation symbolizes the systematic erasure endured by these children, and now, orange has come to represent their suffering and the tenacity of survivors

While Orange Shirt Day originated in Canada, residential schools operated across both Canada and the United States. These institutions, often run by religious organizations with government support, aimed to forcibly assimilate Indigenous children into Western culture. The United States had a network of over 400 Indian boarding schools, with some operating from the late 1800s until the mid-1900s. Schools like the infamous Carlisle Indian Industrial School in Pennsylvania sought to "kill the Indian, save the man" by severing children from their languages, families, and cultural practices. This dark history connects the Indigenous peoples of Canada and the United States in a shared narrative of trauma and cultural survival.

My We Wai Kai Heritage: Uncovering Painful Truths

As a member of the We Wai Kai First Nation, which is based on Quadra Island and in Campbell River in British Columbia, Orange Shirt Day strikes a deeply personal chord. It compels me to confront the history of my family and tribe. In unraveling my community’s past, I faced a painful legacy left by residential schools that sought to erase our language, culture, and identity. Conversations with elders and survivors from our community unearthed stories of systemic abuse, cultural suppression, and profound loss. These stories revealed how my people, like many other Indigenous communities across North America, were subjected to acts of cultural genocide.

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

The Brutalization of Girls in Residential Schools

Girls at these schools faced unimaginable brutality. Stripped of their cultural attire and forced into uniforms, they underwent a ritual of dehumanization. Their long hair, sacred in many Indigenous cultures, was ruthlessly chopped off, an act intended to strip them of their identity and self-worth.

In a particularly harrowing example, the Sacramento Native American Health Center shared in 2023 how two Washo sisters faced punishment for whispering in their Indigenous language. Nuns dragged them into the kitchen, where a fork had been heated on the stove. The sisters were forced to stick out their tongues, which were then burned—a brutal attempt to instill fear and suppress the use of their native language. This act cut them off from their cultural roots, instilling deep-seated trauma.

The abuse did not stop there. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada (TRC), established in 2008, collected heart-wrenching testimonies from survivors. The 2015 report revealed horrifying instances of sexual assault perpetrated by school staff against young girls. These girls endured invasive "health inspections" that served as covers for physical and sexual abuse. Many spoke of being beaten, starved, and forced into grueling labor. In the United States, similar abuses occurred, with schools withholding medical care until death loomed, turning preventable illnesses into fatal outcomes. These institutions inflicted a form of cultural genocide on an entire generation on both sides of the border.

Orange: A Symbol of Visibility and Solidarity

In the context of Orange Shirt Day, orange becomes a symbol of caution, urging the world to stop and pay attention. Much like the orange shirt of a construction worker that says, "See me, don't hurt me," this color calls upon society to recognize the history and ongoing struggles of Indigenous communities. For me, living thousands of miles away from my We Wai Kai homeland, wearing orange is a gesture of visibility and solidarity, a way to connect with the broader Indigenous experience across both Canada and the United States. It boldly tethers me to something bigger, 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 has become more than just a symbol; it is a powerful reminder that every child matters. Orange Shirt Day compels us to move beyond platitudes and recognition into action. It urges us to amplify the voices of survivors, to acknowledge the generational impact of these institutions, and to address the ongoing challenges faced by Indigenous peoples. In both Canada and the United States, the wounds of residential schools remain open, and healing demands collective 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. As we wear orange, we invoke the strength of those who came before us and reaffirm our commitment to ensuring such injustices are never repeated.

Reclaiming the Future

In facing the legacy of loss imposed on my tribe and other Indigenous communities, I find strength in the enduring beauty of We Wai Kai culture. The trauma from these institutions did not end with their closure; it echoes through generations, manifesting in struggles with substance abuse, mental illness, and the fracturing of family structures. Yet, we continue to endure, to rebuild, and to hold onto our identity despite attempts to erase it. Today, in a modern flair of reclamation, our community hosts Monday night Zoom language classes, open to those living off-reserve like myself and those closer to our British Columbia homeland.

Truth and Reconciliation Day is not just a day of mourning. It is a call for collective healing, one 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 U.S. and Canada, this process means reclaiming our languages, traditions, and sovereignty.

Our orange shirts are more than symbols—they are acts of defiance and hope. They represent our dedication to truth, our honor for those who 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 every attempt to silence and erase us, we are still here, standing 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 We Wai Kai First Nation member in San Francisco.